#mr. salt and mrs. pepper were right there!

[saturdaynightlivedork]

Yeah, about that…

[eyesxxyou]

sweet revenge

・・・l. howlett x fem!reader

rating. m

word count. 1.3k

synopsis. after catching your boyfriend cheating, you and his father, Logan, go on a road trip to confront him, though, you don't make it far

warnings. p-in-v, tummy bulging, cheating (but as payback), DILF Logan, car sex, van sex, sex with boyfriend's father, cunilingus, kinda rushed :((

If someone told you you’d be trapped in a car with your neglectful boyfriend’s father for an entire weekend as you drive to meet him in Mexico a week ago, you would have stared at them blankly then told them that didn't sound so out of the ordinary for a life like yours.

It wasn't your idea, it was Logan's, your boyfriend's father. He insisted that you two would have to drive across the US together to confront your disgusting, cheating, asshole boyfriend who flew to Mexico to spend time with his mistress. He was almost as disgusted as you were, apologizing to you with explanations of how “he hadn't raised his boy like this”. How funny life is.

Logan, you always thought, was a good man. He had always been kind to you since you’ve known him, sometimes to the point where you thought he was flirting with you. Not that you minded, he was quite handsome, even for being in his 50s. With his salt and pepper beard and slight wrinkles that made him look mature and wise. You never minded his slight touches on your arm or your lower back but you never pursued the idea beyond a lingering thought.

“I’m slightly surprised you’re not crying.” Logan said about an hour into your ride together. You had been entirely silent, letting the radio play while you gazed longingly out of the window, your feet up on the dashboard. You rolled your head to the side to look at him. “I’m more angry than sad.” Or were you? You searched within the cavity of your chest for emotion and found nothing. You were so apathetic to the whole thing. Maybe it simply hasn't hit you yet, that your boyfriend of 3 years has been cheating on you for 2 of them with some girl he decided to vacation with in Mexico.

Logan stroked his fingers through his beard. “He’s a fucking idiot. His mother was a cheater too, I say he got it from her.” Your boyfriend was raised primarily by his mother after they had gotten divorced he had told you. He wasn't actually all that close with Logan. You had sussed out that it was because he didn't give special treatment between him and his sister, Laura. They were treated the same in every way by Logan while his mother always seemed to favor him.

“Thank you, Mr. Howlett for offering to bring me down here…really. It’s too kind of you.” You couldn't have possibly scrounge up enough money to haphazardly buy a plane ticket down to Cancun last minute. You would have had to wait for him to come back from his “business trip” to confront him. Logan thought it a better idea to do it as soon as possible.

He shrugged, a single hand on the wheel as his eyes flicked lightly from the road to you. “It’s nothing. He doesn't deserve a pretty girl like you.” Logan shook his head lightly. “Back in my day, I would have been all over a girl like you. Hell, I’d be all over you now if I’d met you at the right time.”

There's something deadly serious in his voice that suggests he was far from joking. All your delusional thoughts that maybe, just maybe, he was flirting with you turned out to not be delusions at all. He’s been dropping hints and you’d been turning a blind eye to them so willingly.

You’ve never been with a man his age. Something about it seemed so taboo. He was old enough to be your father. Yet the distinct feel of forbiddenness, both because of his age and because he was your boyfriend's father, excited you.

“Who says you can't be all over me now?” You’re being more bold than you’d have liked. You crossed your ankles on the dash. It would be the perfect revenge. When he goes low, you go lower—you go to Hell.

You let your hand wander to his thigh, your eyes lingering on him as he keeps glancing between you and the road. Logan chuckled lowly at you, your forward attempts at coming onto him were rather cute. “Oh baby, you don't know what you’re tryna get yourself into.” He’s trying to warn you but you like the edge to his tone.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and sit up in your seat to lean over and whisper into his ear. “Let me find out.” Maybe older men do it better, maybe they value things a little more. You were in the mood to find out.

You could see his jaw tighten as he slowed the car off the side of the road, gravel crunching under the tires. His fingers curled around the wheel, taut, knuckles white. “Why don't you get in the back?”

If someone told you you’d be in the back of a van, on you way to confront your cheating, sleazebag boyfriend, fucking his dad. That…that you’d bat an eye at.

It was a fast-paced endeavor. Logan had you in a mating press, pushed up against the back seats. Your pants and underwear at your knees, his pants just below his ass. He’s pounding you out in the back of a van, with thrust so hard and deep that it makes your eyes go cross. You beg, “please, please, puh-please!” like that will save you from the brutalization of your poor cunt.

Logan grunts above you, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises as he spreads them wide and keeps you still. “You wanted this, princess. Don’t back out now.” His strokes leave you winded, clawing at the cracked leather seat of his van, squealing like you have no damn sense in the world. “I can’t,” you gasp.

“Yes you can, doll. You can take it.” Fuck– he was using his father voice. Stern, authoritative, the kind of voice you can’t say no to. You could have come right then and there from his voice alone, cooing at your pretty pussy like a cat. He pressed his hips sharply into yours and watched your back arch away from the seats and your eyes prick with tears. “Logan!”

“You act like you’ve never been fucked before. Does my son not do a good job?”

You shook your head feverishly. “Never– ” you swallowed, “–like this.” Never made you cum for that matter. If you knew fucking your boyfriend's father would have been like this, you would have done this a whole lot sooner.

You could feel him in your stomach. You pressed your hand to your belly and felt the bulge of his cock under your skin. You whimpered at the feeling, tracing where his cock head poked through. You could feel him pressing against your tender womb.

You let Logan cum in you. It was easy to with a face like his. You let him sink himself deep inside, a guttural groan rattling out from his throat, satisfied as he emptied his balls inside you. You could help but giggle as he came in you. The thought of possibly having his baby didn't bother you as much as you thought it would. Logan was a good man, well, as good as one can be while fucking his son’s girlfriend.

Logan didn't want to leave you unsatisfied though you were more than used to it. He grabbed your hips and pulled you up, back arching as he dipped down and kissed your cum-soaked pussy. His tongue found your clit with ease, licking tenderly at the bud between your legs, eyes peering over your pelvis, looking down at you.

Your legs trembled over his shoulder, toes pointing with each rough lick against your puffy pussy. “‘s too much, too much.” His lips were latched to your lips, suckling.

Cumming on his tongue was an easy job. He made it so simple yet so powerful. You quivered under every lick, your body rolling with the waves of your orgasm. It was sweet, savory, like tender peaches on a warm, summer evening.

Who knew revenge could taste so sweet?

[psychedelic-ink]

'𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐰.

pairing: contractor!joel miller x f!reader

genre: no outbreak au, modern au, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 3k

summary: joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend's kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you're the opposite. when he learns how you've been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.

warnings: hints of reader being in a toxic relationship, age gap, daddy kink, piv, dirty talk , revenge sex and filming it, infidelity (reader cheating on her bf), praise kink

a/n: This was completely spontaneous, normally I was going to finish one of the haunted hoedown entries but I saw a ✨ s p i c y ✨ video and instantly got up to write this because that video was something else I tell you. Sucks that they don't credit those things on twitter so I can find more of the guy he was also older hence the age gap fgbgfbf

thank you to @johnwatsn for beta'ing this (and sorry for all the typos lmaodfbfg) and thank you to @pedrorascal for the stunning gif 💜

“I’m not paying extra if you do overtime, old man. You said a week and you’ll finish in a week. I don’t care if your knees hurt or you have a heart attack in the middle of hammering a nail—you finish my girlfriend’s kitchen in time. Got it?”  

Joel had a lot of unpleasant customers. John was just one of many but his comment had stuck with him. And it wasn’t the rude comments or the tone that basically told Joel that John thought of him as dog shit; no, it was none of that. It was the old man that had bugged him. The hissed comment of his age slithering under his skin and agitating his body. 

Joel knew that it only bothered him because it was true. He was an old man. His daughter in her last year of college, doing her absolute best and growing while he was getting old. His skin creasing at the eyes every time he laughed and his hair more salt than pepper. 

The thoughts continuing to swirl in his head, with a sigh, he knocks on the door of John’s girlfriend, expecting a woman as equally as unpleasant and demanding. 

You’re far from what he expected. Your smile is bright, your eyes kind and lips looking soft and shiny. Joel has trouble gathering himself when you extend a hand, not a care in the world. His eyes drop to where your sweetheart neckline pushes your breasts together, slightly spilling over the fabric. His mouth goes dry, cock twitching under the denim. 

Guess some parts of him didn’t get the memo that he was an old man now. 

“Joel, right?” you ask, voice unsure and timid. Your eyes gradually take in the height of him, moving to explore the broadness of his shoulders and stopping at his eyes. “John mentioned you.” 

Joel’s stomach suddenly turns sour, it’s enough for him to snap out of the sudden lustful gaze he found himself in. He grabs your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “That’s right. Joel Miller at your service, ma’am.” 

He might be imagining it, but he swears your breath hitches just a little when he takes your hand. 

“How chivalrous,” you smile and move to the side. “Come on in, Mr. Miller.” 

“Joel is just fine,” he grunts, reminded of the old-age comment. How young were you, he wonders. Late twenties, early thirties? He has no idea. He’s also not sure if he wants to know. 

You close the door behind him and nod, “Alright then Joel,” you step in front of him, walking towards what he assumes is the kitchen. Joel dutifully follows. “I’m sure John told you about what needs to be done, so hopefully you don’t have any questions.” 

He raises an eyebrow at that, confusion swirling in his expression. You don’t turn to look at him, entering the kitchen, you continue, “I had something else in mind originally but he told me to trust him so... I guess that’s what I’m doing now.” 

“That don’t sound right,” Joel mumbles. He gives the area a once over, he sees a lot of pink, clean, and polished furniture. The windows are large, allowing the sun to bathe everything within. He vaguely remembers John mentioning a dark, minimalist look but he wasn’t really listening at the time. “Isn’t this your kitchen?” 

Your shoulders raise at his question and you finally turn to face him, kind eyes now tainted with a hint of sadness, “It’s going to be our kitchen soon. He probably thinks it’s too girly.” 

“That’s no reason to leave you out of the design process,” Joel answers, taking a step closer. You smile helplessly with a shrug, your eyes dropping to his lips before averting them. His pulse races, something wicked forming in his head. He stops an inch away from you, a mere breeze would’ve been enough for your bodies to touch but he keeps still and so do you. You’re flustered, he can tell. “You wanna tell me what you had in mind?” 

Your eyes briefly go wide, something like shame crossing your face but the expression is quickly replaced by understanding, “Oh the design,” you murmur, voice barely a whisper. “I honestly would’ve loved some more counter room since I love to bake.” 

“Well, you’re in luck darlin’ because I don’t remember much of the details your boyfriend gave me,” he smiles when your brows furrow with confusion. “Meanin’ you have to lead me with the design.” 

He swears your smile is the brightest damn thing he’s seen in a long while. 

It’s the last day of the constructions in your kitchen but you’re not thinking of the new kitchen counter or the new cupboard, all you’re thinking of is Joel’s proposition, and how you were soaked with just the mere thought of it. 

You and Joel had grown close during the time he fixed up your kitchen. Surprisingly, you actually went with the design you initially wanted and not the one John had in mind. You knew it would lead to a fight and some part of you was glad—John was meant to be perfect but it was only on paper. He was a dream boat when in public and amongst friends, but alone? Not a chance. He belittled you, hated almost all your hobbies and always made unnecessary comments on what you looked like. 

Despite yourself, you had blabbed all of that to Joel. He made you feel safe, and the fact that he was very pleasant to look at helped. He didn’t say much but you could tell that he was livid, which secretly made you pleased. It was good to see that how John treated you wasn’t actually the norm. 

You loved watching him work. The way sweat would slide all the way down to his neck and how his muscles would tense, straining the fabric of his shirt. 

He told you about how John had treated him, confessed he thought you would be the same. Your insides had boiled with anger. You apologized profusely and he just shook it off, saying it wasn’t your fault. 

Then the kiss had happened. 

It had happened on a particularly bad day. You were upset, filled with negative emotions to the brim and all you wanted was unconditional comfort. You kissed him, he didn’t stop you until your hand reached for his belt. 

“I wanna show that asshole how amazin’ you are,” he had said. “Will you let me?” 

At the time you hadn’t known what he meant by that. 

But now you do. 

“Look into the camera, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mouth pressed against your ear. You shudder, your bare body feeling good against his, like you were made for him. Your pussy throbs and drools all over his cock that slides agonizingly slow between your folds. You try to do as he says but it’s just too hard when your eyes are constantly on the brink of rolling back into your skull. He drags his lips down your neck as his large hands knead your breasts, your nipples achingly hard. “Don’t make me say it again, honey. Don’t make me be mean when you’re such a good girl.” 

“Oh, fuck—” your body shudders, lashes fluttering as you stare right into the camera with a lost expression. You see yourself, Joel right behind you. You don’t know how but he looks even taller while his body splays over yours, bending you over. He presses his palm over your forehead, forcing the arch of your back. Your inner thighs are soaked, his cock moving between your legs. You see the flash of the glistening head every time he rocks himself forward. 

He looks into the camera and your entire body clenches with want, “Look at that,” he hums, laving your neck in open-mouthed wet kisses. “Your girlfriend already going stupid with my cock. Not so bad for an old man huh?” 

Joel’s lips stretch menacingly, eyes shining  with amusement. Letting go of your forehead, he pushes both your tits closer to the camera, thumbs moving over the pebbled flesh. You moan loudly and your legs quiver. 

“Sweet thing over here tells me you don’t let her ride you—I thought you were a dumbass before but now I think you’re a downright moron. Fuckin’ hell, who wouldn’t want such an eager thing jumpin’ up and down his cock.” 

You whimper, eyes going teary. Your heart races wildly in your chest. “J—Joel, please. . .” 

“Hear  that, John,” he growls, the tremble of each word reverberating into your skin. “She’s beggin’ for my cock. Ain’t that right, darlin’?” 

You nod but it’s not enough for him, not enough for Joel. “Don’t be shy now, tell him. He ever got you this wet?” 

“N-No,” you breathe out and maniacally shake your head. “N-Never.” 

“Poor thing,” he clicks his tongue. “Poor poor thing. Don’t worry, daddy’s got you now. Doesn’t he?” 

“Yes,” you slur, pushing back your hips. “Fuck me, fuck me—Fuck me, daddy, please.” 

“Say it again,” his teeth sink into your skin. “One more and I’ll fuck you.” 

“Daddy,” you moan, eyes rolling back. “Daddy, need you, need your cock. Fuck me, please.” 

He hums in satisfaction, “Well, since you asked so darn nicely,” Joel kisses your temple and his lips move over your skin as he speaks to the camera, “Looks like she’s my girl now, my good girl.” 

When he buries himself into you, inch by inch, your jaw goes slack and your nipples go tight. You forget about the camera, about John who’ll see this. You only think of him. He stretches you to your very limit, his cock thick and hard. It takes you everything not to move your hips. You want Joel to tell you what to do. You want him to fuck you so good that your mind will go blank as you start bouncing on his cock. His one hand grips your waist firmly as the other remains underneath your breast, the sensitive flesh spilling over his hand while holding you. 

“How does it feel?” he murmurs into your ear, his cruel teasing from earlier gone. 

“Good,” you whimper, squeezing him tight. “So fucking good, the biggest I’ve ever had.” 

“Fuck, darlin’,” he kisses the skin behind your ear. “Such a filthy mouth on such an innocent lookin’ girl. You were wasted on that jackass.” 

He knocks the air from your lungs before you can answer. The drag of his cock like lightning searing your skin. He fucks you hard, almost angrily, but you know it’s not directed at you. Never at you. The smack of his balls against your ass fills the bedroom, and you’re positive the phone is recording every wet, filthy sound. It doesn’t take much for Joel to reduce you into a withering mess, every word forgotten, his hips relentless as he fucks deeper and deeper into you. 

Then suddenly you’re tilting back, his arm an anchor around your stomach as you find yourself between his thighs sitting on his lap. Your eyes move to the screen, you look perfect between his legs, the muscles tensing and flexing as he grinds his hips. Your skin pleasantly burns. 

“Come on, sweetheart, show him what he’s been missin’ out on.” 

Joel leans back, palm planted firmly on your mattress with pretty pink flowers that John hates. 

Your body takes control, your brain swimming in a fog of lust and pleasure. You grip his thick thighs, bracing yourself, you begin to move up and down his cock. He fills you beautifully. His gaze is fixed on the tiny camera, staring directly into it as you try your best to please him. Arousal coils tight in your stomach. Your breasts sway with your every move, your body coating him in shiny slick. 

“A throne for a princess,” he groans, eyes moving from the camera to your reflection on the screen. Fire burns down your spine. His gaze and presence alone choking the air from your lungs. You twist yourself to get a better look at him, catching his gaze momentarily, you moan wantonly at the sight. Him only sitting, relaxed while you’re breaking down sends jolts of electricity up and down your spine. You sit wholly, grinding down while keeping his cock buried deep inside, searching for that devastating spot inside you. 

The world around you becomes a bright white when you do. 

Your ears start ringing, and you begin to shake, legs clamp together as you shudder around the length of him. A choked sound between laughter and bewilderment tears from your throat. Your body moves of its own accord now, helplessly bouncing on his cock, the bulbous head grazing against a certain spot that just makes you want more and more and more—

“Yes yes yes yes,” you chant. Joel’s head disappears from view everytime you move up. You hear his moans, they become louder and louder, his southern drawl becoming prominent the more fucked out he gets. 

His sounds only spur you on, making you ride him harder, sweat beading at your tailbone. Your pussy swallows him hungrily, every inch of him without protest. While you’re absolutely lost on his cock, you notice him tilting his head so he’s in view again. You hold your breath. His mouth parts, the tip of his tongue touching the corner of his lips, he gives the camera a taunting look. Joel’s expression turns into a half smile and he wraps his arms around you. One going over right above your breasts and the other around your stomach. His hand cups the side of your neck. He drags his mouth down and up your cheek. 

“Come on, pretty girl,” he rasps, kissing you. You look to the camera, hips slowing but not stopping. “Yes, pretty girl, just like that,” another kiss. “Look at that pretty girl getting fucked.” 

Joel squeezes your breast as  his arm comes down, both of them now tight around your stomach. You feel him pulsing deep inside you. His voice is thick with arousal. “Look how beautiful you are on my dick. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?” 

You nod and grind against him, loving how deep he feels. He kisses your neck, tongue tracing shapes into your skin as both his hands come up to your tits and squeezes them, the plump flesh spilling from between his knuckles. His lips move down your shoulder and back up your neck, following the same path over and over again, decorating it with slow kisses. 

Joel gives the camera one last look before disappearing behind you,  fingers sprawled over your stomach and down between your legs. You feel the rough hairs between your shoulder blades first, then the softness of his lips follows through. Your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back, his mouth is so goddamn soft, the skin tingling and burning at the same time. 

His hips snap up, and with the sudden movement, a fresh wave of wetness coats his cock. You lean forward, face closer to the camera, while he lays back, watching hungirly at the way your ass moves. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he groans, smacking both your asscheeks simultaneously. 

Then before you know it he’s moving, pressing you fully over the table in front of you, the phone shaking as he begins to hammer into you. You can’t even see what you look like anymore, your head dropping, you cry out his name. If it wasn’t for his hands on your hips, you would’ve collapsed to the ground. 

“That’s it, come on my cock,” he nips at your shoulders. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet—can you hear that? Can you hear how fuckin’ soaked your girlfriend is on an old man’s cock?” 

It takes you a second to realize he’s not talking to you, but the camera. You flutter around him, squeezing him tight enough that he moans, hips slowing. “Daddy,” you gasp. And with that, you finally let go, cunt gushing around him, coating him with slick. Joel peppers your back with soft, quick kisses, whispering praise between every kiss. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, bet you never came that hard before. Good girl—my good fuckin’ girl, wettin’ my cock so well.” 

You tighten and gush around him a second time, you swear by how hard you’re clenching your insides most likely have taken the shape of him. 

“Where do you want me?” he whispers into your skin. Words coming muffled and hoarse, dripping slow like molasses. You push back against him, looking into the camera with a small smile. 

“Inside me, daddy, please.” 

“Oh shit—” he picks up the pace, the thrust of his hips sloppy and needy. “Shit shit shit—so fuckin’ perfect, so good for allowin’ this old man to wreck her good—So good for tellin’ me to fill her up—fuck—” 

You’re blindsided by how honest he suddenly is, the rasp of his voice going straight between your legs. His hips stutter and Joel comes with a loud, thick moan, spilling into you. You moan right alongside him. He continues to rock into you with shallow thrusts, laying kisses on every patch of skin his lips can reach. 

While you’re lost in complete bliss, he reaches around you and grabs the phone, stopping the recording before collapsing back to the bed, pulling you along with him. 

“You feel so good,” he says, cock softening inside. You feel his come trickling down from between your thighs and shiver. 

“You feel good too,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and covering his lips with your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.” 

“Guess this old man still has some tricks up his sleeve,” he chuckles weakly and you press another kiss, this time on his cheek. “We don’t have to by the way.” 

“Don’t have to what?” 

“Send the video.” 

You stare at the phone for a second, brows furrowed as you think. Then with a quick shrug, you turn back to him. “Nah, let him see it. I could’ve forgiven how he treated me but not you.” 

He clicks his tongue with disapproval, “You shouldn’t forgive him for how he treated you either, darlin’. You deserve better.” 

“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to prove it me then,” you smile and with a sudden impulse, boop his nose. He laughs, nipping the pad of your finger. 

“I guess I will.”  

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : FALLING FOR THE SPOTLIGHT (PT.1) : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hugh Jackman x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff!!!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: RPF

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You interview for a personal assistant position with Hugh Jackman over Zoom. Despite initial nerves, Hugh’s charm and playful teasing create a connection, making the conversation feel both professional and surprisingly personal. By the end, you sense a special chemistry and eagerly await his decision.

Next Part

YOU SAT AT THE SMALL DINING TABLE IN YOUR APARTMENT, tapping your fingers against the edge of your laptop as the screen glowed faintly. Across the room, Zoë, your best friend and roommate, was lounging on the couch, casually flipping through her phone. She glanced up at you, smirking as she noticed your nervous energy.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, her voice teasing but affectionate.

You shot her a nervous smile. "Barely. I mean, it's Hugh Jackman... Hugh freaking Jackman. What am I supposed to do with that?"

Zoë laughed, sitting up and tossing her phone aside. "Oh, you’re going to do great. You’ve got this. You just graduated with a degree in media, you know your stuff. And besides, he’s going to love you."

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, staring at the blank screen, your mind still whirling. "You didn’t have a massive celebrity crush on him for, like, half your life."

Zoë grinned knowingly. "True, but that’s exactly why you'll nail it. You’ve been preparing for this moment without even realizing it."

You gave her a mock glare, but deep down, you appreciated her confidence in you. It was a dream scenario—working as Hugh Jackman’s personal assistant. When you saw the job posting online, you didn’t even hesitate to apply, though you never imagined you’d get an interview, let alone one scheduled so quickly. And now, here you were, waiting for a Zoom call with the man himself. The idea of seeing Hugh in real-time, talking to him, hearing his voice directed at you, was enough to send your heart racing.

The laptop chimed suddenly, breaking your thoughts. The screen lit up with an incoming Zoom call.

Zoë jumped up, wide-eyed. "That’s him, isn’t it?"

You nodded, trying to steady your breathing. "It’s happening. Oh God, it’s happening."

She scurried over to stand behind you, giving your shoulders a quick squeeze. "Good luck! You’ve got this."

You took a deep breath, clicked to accept the call, and the screen shifted to show none other than Hugh Jackman. His face appeared, smiling warmly into the camera as he adjusted the angle. He looked even more handsome than you’d imagined—salt-and-pepper hair, sharp features, and that trademark grin that could melt a million hearts. The casual blue T-shirt he wore only added to his approachable charm.

“G'day!” His voice was warm, rich, and effortlessly charming. “Can you hear me okay?”

You smiled nervously and nodded. “Yes! I can hear you perfectly. Hi, Mr. Jackman. I mean, Hugh. Sorry. Hi.”

Hugh laughed softly, and the sound of it eased some of your nerves. “No worries at all. And please, just call me Hugh. ‘Mr. Jackman’ makes me feel old.”

You giggled despite yourself, the tension in your shoulders loosening slightly. “Okay, Hugh it is.”

His eyes twinkled with amusement. “So, how are you today? I know interviews can be a bit nerve-wracking.”

"Just a little," you admitted with a sheepish smile. "But I’m excited, too. It's a really amazing opportunity, and I’m just happy to be here."

"That’s the spirit," Hugh replied, leaning forward slightly. "Listen, I’m not one for formal interviews. I’d rather just have a chat, get to know you, and see how we vibe. I hope that’s alright?"

“That sounds perfect,” you said, your heart pounding a little less now. The casual nature of the conversation was starting to help you feel more at ease.

“So,” Hugh began, tilting his head, “you just finished university, right? Tell me a bit about that. What did you study?”

“Yeah, I graduated not too long ago,” you replied, feeling more confident. “I studied media, so I’ve done a bit of everything—social media management, content creation, production... I’ve always loved the idea of working behind the scenes. I guess I’m just looking for a job where I can put all that to use.”

Hugh nodded thoughtfully. "Media, huh? That’s perfect. I need someone who knows their way around that stuff. I’m hopeless with social media." He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "If it weren’t for my team, I’d probably still be figuring out how to send tweets."

You laughed, feeling the connection start to form. “Well, you’ve got a pretty solid Instagram game going on. But I can definitely help with anything tech-related.”

"Ah, well, that’s good to hear," Hugh said, leaning back in his chair. "And what about your interests outside of media? Any hobbies or passions I should know about?"

“Well,” you began, hesitating for a second. “I love movies—obviously. And I’m really into fitness, too, though I’m not quite at your level.”

Hugh raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Fitness, eh? Are you trying to take my job? Next thing I know, you’ll be Wolverine."

You blushed, laughing nervously. "I don’t think I could pull off the claws."

"Ah, you never know!" Hugh said, winking. "But seriously, fitness is a great passion to have. Keeps you grounded. Maybe we could train together sometime—I’m always looking for a new gym buddy."

Your heart skipped a beat at the casual offer, the idea of working out with Hugh Jackman suddenly flooding your mind. Was he joking, or…?

"That sounds fun," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "But you might have to go easy on me."

"No promises," Hugh teased, his smile never faltering. Then he leaned in slightly, his tone a little more serious. “But really, you seem like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I like that. You’re young, but from what I’ve seen on your resume, you’re definitely not lacking in experience. How do you feel about working in such a high-pressure environment?”

You thought about it for a moment. "Honestly, I think I’d thrive in it. I’m used to juggling a lot at once, and I’ve always worked well under pressure. I guess I’m just ready for a challenge."

Hugh nodded approvingly. "Good answer. I like someone who’s not afraid of a little chaos." He paused, then added with a mischievous glint in his eye, “And you seem awfully young to be my assistant. You sure you’re not still in high school?”

You blushed furiously and laughed, shaking your head. “Definitely not. I promise, I’m a fully certified adult.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to trust you on that,” Hugh replied, his tone playful. "You might just surprise me."

For a brief second, there was a comfortable silence. You could feel the warmth radiating from Hugh, and you found yourself smiling more freely now, your initial nerves melting away. The conversation felt easy, almost natural, like you’d known him for longer than just a few minutes.

Hugh broke the silence with a chuckle. "You know, I have to say, I think you’re going to fit in really well here."

You blinked, caught off guard. "You think so?"

"I do," Hugh said, his expression softening. "I’ve interviewed a lot of people, but you... there’s something about you. You’ve got a good energy. I like that."

You felt your cheeks heat up again, but this time, it was less about nerves and more about the undeniable connection you felt growing between the two of you. Hugh Jackman, your long-time celebrity crush, was complimenting you—on more than just your qualifications.

"I... wow, thank you," you said, a little flustered but genuinely touched. "That means a lot coming from you."

Hugh smiled, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed air. “Well, I’ll make sure to let you know in a few days, but between you and me, I think you’ve got a pretty good shot at this.”

You grinned, trying to hold back the excitement bubbling up inside you. "I’ll be waiting by my phone."

“I’m sure you will,” Hugh replied, his voice laced with warmth. He glanced at the clock on his screen and sighed. "I’ve got another meeting to run to, but it was really great chatting with you. I’ll be in touch soon, okay?"

“Sounds good,” you said, your heart still racing. “Thanks again, Hugh. I really appreciate it.”

Hugh gave you one last smile, his eyes twinkling. “No worries at all. Have a great day, and I’ll talk to you soon.”

The screen faded to black as the call ended, and you sat there for a moment, staring at your laptop. Your heart was pounding, your cheeks still flushed with the warmth of the conversation. You couldn’t help but smile, replaying every word in your head.

Zoë appeared behind you, her eyes wide with excitement. "So...?"

You turned to her, grinning. "I think it went really well."

Zoë's eyes lit up with excitement, and she grabbed your shoulders, shaking you slightly. "Oh my God! Spill! What did he say? How was he? Was he as charming as he seems?"

You laughed, pushing her hands away gently. "He was even better. Like, ridiculously charming. He made a joke about me being too young to be his assistant and then—" You paused, recalling the moment he’d complimented your energy, your stomach fluttering. "—and he said he thinks I’d fit in well."

Zoë gasped dramatically, bouncing in place. "That’s basically a ‘you got the job’ in celebrity-speak! Oh my God, this is huge!" She practically danced across the room, grabbing her phone and immediately typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” you asked, still in a daze.

“Texting the girls! I have to tell them you just interviewed with Hugh Jackman, and it sounds like you nailed it.”

You chuckled, though a part of you was still processing the entire experience. Had that really just happened? Talking to Hugh had felt so natural—like you’d known him longer than the fifteen minutes the interview lasted. He was warm and playful, but also professional when it counted, and you couldn’t help but replay the way he’d teased you about your age. Was that flirting, or was it just his way of putting people at ease?

Zoë interrupted your thoughts, practically vibrating with excitement. “Okay, but tell me—how did you not, like, melt into a puddle of goo? I mean, he was on your screen, in real-time, flirting with you.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “I don’t know! I was nervous at first, but he’s so easy to talk to. It didn’t feel like an interview at all—it felt more like… I don’t know, like we were just chatting.”

Zoë waggled her eyebrows at you. “Uh-huh, chatting with Hugh Jackman, no big deal.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter, smirking. “And what’s this about working out together? Are you going to become his gym buddy now?”

You blushed, laughing as you recalled his casual invitation to train together. “I’m pretty sure he was joking. But who knows? If I get the job, maybe I’ll just casually bump into him at the gym.”

Zoë raised an eyebrow. “Girl, if you get this job, you’re about to be around him 24/7. You better prepare for that heart of yours. Crush or not, you’re gonna be spending some serious time with him.”

The thought sent a flutter of excitement through you. It was true—if you got the job, you’d be Hugh’s personal assistant, meaning you’d be with him constantly, organizing his schedule, helping with events, traveling with him... And you’d be doing all of that with a man you’d secretly crushed on for years. The idea of it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“I know,” you said softly, biting your lip. “It’s kind of crazy to think about. But I also can’t let myself get too ahead of things. It’s still just an interview for now.”

Zoë rolled her eyes, waving a hand dismissively. “Please, that man was smitten. You’re going to get it, I can feel it.”

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed on the table. Your heart leaped as you saw an unknown number pop up on the screen.

You stared at it for a second before Zoë nudged you. “Don’t just stare at it! Answer it! What if it’s him?”

You fumbled with the phone, quickly hitting the button to accept the call. “Hello?”

A familiar deep voice on the other end made your heart race again. “Hey, it’s Hugh.”

You almost dropped the phone. Hugh is calling me? Already? You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “Hi! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”

Hugh laughed lightly, the sound sending another flutter through your stomach. “Yeah, I know. But I’ve been thinking about our chat, and I wanted to catch you before the weekend. I’d love for you to come in on Monday for an in-person meeting. I want to show you the ropes and see how you feel about everything in person.”

You blinked, trying to process what he’d just said. “You mean… like a second interview?”

“Sort of,” Hugh said, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. “But mostly, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with the role before we make it official.”

You tried to suppress the squeal threatening to escape your throat. “That sounds amazing! I’d love to.”

“Great,” Hugh said, his tone warm. “I’ll have my assistant email you the details—where to meet, what time, all that jazz. We’ll keep it casual, don’t worry.”

Your heart was beating so fast you were surprised Hugh couldn’t hear it through the phone. “Thank you so much, Hugh. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem at all,” he replied smoothly. “Looking forward to seeing you again.”

The call ended, and you stood there for a moment, phone in hand, staring at the screen in disbelief.

Zoë practically pounced on you. “What? What did he say?!”

You turned to her, eyes wide with excitement. “He wants me to come in on Monday. For a follow-up meeting, but it sounded more like... like he’s already offering me the job.”

Zoë screamed, grabbing you and spinning you in a circle. “I knew it! I told you! You’re going to be Hugh Jackman’s assistant!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as she danced around the room, but deep down, you felt a wave of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation. This was it—the start of something big. You were one step closer to working for Hugh Jackman, to being a part of his world.

And maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that this job could lead to something even more than you’d ever imagined.

🏷️: @oatmilkriver @khxna @hughverine @junnniiieee07 @stark-ironman @Marcswife21 @boomveronika @kellyxo1 @shiawaseorii @shybluebirdninja @mutilatedcupid @corvusmorte @iluvfanficsstuff @stickyunknownsubstance @miha080 @acescutejeans-1247 @ladydimitrescutlou @iwannadie07 @whimsiwitchy @bitchydragonparadisee

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I am so hyped for this small series!!! Hugh needs more content on here. I absolutely love reading all of your thoughts on the chapters, so feel free to leave a comment!! And at last, Enjoy!!

I’m also thinking of writing some oneshots taking place in the same AU after i finish the series. You can read them as standalones or see it as extra content for this project!!

[thinkinonsense]

COLORS₊˚⊹☆

old man!logan howlett x young fem!reader

cw: angst!! nsfw content but no smut

a/n: this has been in my drafts for sooo long

masterlist

you knew better than to be alone with logan. it's wasn't his fault that you couldn't control yourself around him but you couldn't resist his salt and pepper look.

"can i get a beer, honey?" his deep rugged voice asks over the bar counter.

"yeah, one second." you meekly reply.

the two of you met through his son, jack. for months, you knew jack had a crush on you but you always had eyes for his father, logan. when you first saw logan visiting his son on the college campus, you thought that maybe it wouldn't hurt to go on a date with the nice boy.

"here you go." you nod, sliding him the glass bottle. his fingers entrap yours around the bottle, stopping all of your movements.

"thanks, pretty girl." he tries to smile at you. your knees feel weak. logan can smell your arousal leaking in your underwear and down your thighs.

"no problem, mr. howlett."

blush coated your face as he releases your hand around the bottle. logan lets you get back to work, watching your every movement.

"ya' know, jack has been asking about you." logan says after a few sips.

the older man saw right through you. he knew why you suddenly became interested in his son. logan was a bad man who formed bad habits; one of those habits was entertaining your fantasies.

almost every night after work, logan came into the bar you worked at. a bar that was forty-five minutes from his cabin home. he loathed the city however, he liked how the lights twinkled in your eyes whenever you joined him for a smoke outside.

"i've been busy." you shrug. not really feeling bad for canceling plans with jack again.

"hm.." logan huffs, watching you pour liquor into a glass for another customer. "noticed you've taken up more night shifts."

"college is expensive."

"jack mentioned that your folks help pay your tuition." he had you right where he wanted you. "you aren't ditchin' him for some other college boy, are ya', honey?"

air trapped in your lungs at his question. you were torn on if you should look up at him or not. besides the beer in his hand, logan was also drinking in your appearance. always in these tight low-cut tops with tiny skirts and cute sneakers.

"too busy for boys." you reply, taking a sip of your diet coke to the right of logan.

it's been two months of dancing around your attraction to each other. logan loved his son but he knew the poor boy didn't have a chance with a girl like you. you needed someone to tame you, protect and provide for you. jack wasn't mature enough to see that.

"what time do you get off?" logan asks, finishing off his glass.

"thirty minutes."

you bite back the smile forming on your lips. he could hear your heart beat increase causing him to chuckle and shake his head.

"you know the routine, doll face." he puts down some cash and leaves you a nice tip. "meet me in the limo in thirty. no panties either."

"yes, mr. howlett."

was it wrong? maybe, but nothing felt better than logan's hands all over you.

[billthedrake]

CAMP DADDY

"You got this, Carter," I heard from behind me. It was Dave, the guy at the camp I'd bonded with the most.

I wasn't sure I had it. Over the last week we'd done a lot of challenging stuff... long hikes, swimming races, rock climbing, you name it. But the spelunking was freaking me out a little, between the darkness and the tight spaces. I didn't realize I had claustrophobia, but I guess I did. I was hyperventilating.

"Come on, relax, bro," my buddy said. "One inch at a time. I'm right behind ya, man."

I pushed through. And once I cleared into a bigger part of the cave, I saw more headlamps ahead. I unclenched my held breath.

***

I'd been a real fuck up of a teenager. That's why I was here at this Outward Bound camp. Strike one was shoplifting and getting caught for it. Strike two was yelling at my dad and calling him a piece of shit, on his birthday no less. Strike three was the ketamine use. The next weekend Dad was shipping me off to this godforsaken place in the woods upstate. He wasn't going to pay for baseball, college, or my car if I didn't go. So I did.

The first couple of days I gave a bunch of lip to the counselors. I couldn't stand their fake-cheery demeanor or their 12-step BS. "Stay strong," we had to say at the end of each "huddle" meeting. Like it was fucking church.

But I was smart, smart enough how to play this. I knew I should just lay low, go along with it enough. It was just three weeks.

It helped that I bonded with Dave the first day. He was another baseball jock and cynical too. We made fun of the Sunday School teacher vibe of the lead counselor Mr. Connell. Only at Outward bound we were supposed to call the counselors by first name.

Dave had been there a week. "At least all the physical stuff is good exercise," he said. "I'm actually getting in really great shape for next season."

It was true. There was a gym, too, in the common room of the main cabin basement. Kind of a basic barbells and benches kind of gym but a lot of us jocks would work out together, until I got annoyed by them too. Other than Dave, they all bought into the 12 step crap.

I started talking to Pete, a punk guy with a shaved head and a permanent snarl on his face. He was cool. He wasn't just cynical, he'd talk back to the counselors. But one day he was just gone. No Pete.

***

Maybe unconsciously I was trying to get Pete's fate. Get out of this fucking place. I thought three weeks would go fast, but a week and a half had drained me. I mouthed off to Mr. Connell. Sorry, to "Mike." He smiled in that fakey way and tried to be zen about it. But I was getting to him. After dinner I sulked on my own. I'd started to realize Dave was in on it. Playing normal to get my confidence and win me over to the Program.

I was wallowing in self-pity sure, because I knew I was crushed out on Dave. I'd hidden the gay thing pretty well my last few years, but now I didn't have booze or pot or drugs to push my feelings down. Maybe that's why I was acting out, I don't know. My body was just a mess of hormones and my brain a bunch of conflicted thoughts.

***

I woke up in a room that was identical to the two-bed cabin I'd been sleeping in with another guy Zach. Only it wasn't the same room and there was no Zach. On the other full bed a man sat reading a book, kind of a big beefy-but trim older man, dressed in joggers and a zip-up athletic top that clung to his thick muscle. I thought it was a sex dream, but the second I realized it was real I jolted awake, sitting up straight in my small bed.

"Wait, who are you?" I blurted out. This man wasn't one of the counselors. He was older, with salt-and-pepper hair trimmed short. Probably in his early 50s.

Patiently the man set down his book. He didn't have that fakey-nice look but was on the sterner side of normal. "You can call me Daddy," he said. He had a smooth tenor voice.

This was weirder than a dream. "What the fuck?!" I yelled. "I'm not fucking calling you Daddy. Where's Zach? Where are the other guys?"

He shrugged. "You didn't like the other guys," Daddy explained. "We had to change plans."

I was freaking out now. More than in that dark cave. I jolted up and ran to the door. This cabin wasn't in a big compound but was attached to a single small room with a window overlooking the mountains. I looked back on the bed. The man was surprisingly calm, like he expected my reaction, or worse. That was one thing that made me try to check my emotion, to use my head. I knew how these fuckers worked.

"This is kidnapping," I said. I was realizing I must have been drugged to be moved entirely to this new place.

Daddy shook his head. "Fraid not. And we suggested to your father that we extend your stay here to two months. He agreed it's needed. We'll add more if takes all summer.

I broke down. Tears welled up in my eyes. I wasn't going to let this asshole see me cry, and yet I already was. Defeated, I sat on the bed facing away from him.

"It's OK," he said, with terse reassurance. "It's tough here. I'll make breakfast for when you're ready."

***

I gave him the silent treatment. Unlike the Outward Bound counselors he didn't try to make me talk. Maybe he was giving me the silent treatment too, maybe he realized a one-way conversation was useless.

I got dressed and while Daddy was showering up, I stepped out of the small cabin. There was a trail, and it had to lead somewhere. I took one look back into the cabin, then took off.

Fortunately the trail split a few times so if Daddy followed me he'd have a hard time catching up. I don't know why I hadn't thought of escaping before.

I got lost. Real fucking lost. The deeper into the woods I got, the less sense I had of where to go. The day went on. I got hungry. I kept walking. I expected to hear a highway or cars or people or some sign of civilization. Nothing.

I was freaking out. I stopped and sat on a tree trunk. Crying. There was no Dave urging me on. No "stay strong" mantra. No other guys. It was just me, fucking up again. My stomach rumbled, and I felt thirsty. It was getting dusk. I couldn't believe I'd have to sleep out here, but my big fear was wondering if I'd ever get back.

I heard rustling on the trail. Then saw a flashlight and the dark imposing figure of a 6'4" man coming my way. It was Daddy.

"Here," he said, offering me a sandwich and water. "Have this, then we'll head back."

I was too grateful and relieved to mouth off. But on our walk back I had a realization. "You knew I was here," I said.

"Yes," Daddy replied. They probably had a tracking chip in my clothes somehow.

"And you made me wait here alone."

"Yes," he admitted. "You had to learn the hard way, Carter." There was an undercurrent of empathy to his voice.

***

It took me a couple of days, but I opened up. And once I started talking, you couldn't shut me up, it felt like. I talked about my problems, and Daddy listened. It was like a therapy session and a buddy conversation, from breakfast till night.

Daddy was the first man I told I was gay. We were sitting on the Adirondack chairs outside, enjoying the view of the mountains and the sunset and I just went there. I confessed my problems dating girls and the times I got erection problems during sex.

"I told them I was drunk, but I wasn't," I said.

"I'd have done the same," Daddy said in his mellow voice.

That caught me off guard. I tried to read him, but he was still an enigma to me. A flash of me wondered if he was into men. The dude was jacked for his age, and I got a flash of excitement imagining him having sex.

Daddy was counselor, captor, friend, and father figure rolled into one. "What's your deal, man?" I asked. Not hostile like before, but probing. "Here I am spilling my guts out and I don't even know your name."

He smiled but just kept his even manner. "You don't need to know name, just Da..."

"I know," I interrupted. "You're 'Daddy.'"

Something about my exasperated tone made him smile. And maybe relent. "I did Outward Bound when I was your age. I acted out, got into trouble," he explained. "The Program set me straight."

"Was the program as unconventional when you did it?" I gestured around to the isolated cabin where I was more or less hostage.

That got a grin. "More so."

I was curious. "Did you have a Daddy?"

He nodded. "I did." He took a sip from the can of soda. "Later he taught me how to be a Daddy."

I still didn't get whatever psychoanalytic babble the Program was tapping into, but Daddy's words did make me think.

"You know what makes me, mad?" I asked.

"What?"

"This shit's probably working."

That got a chuckle. "You'll be glad when it's over Carter."

It was dark now and it felt darker out here in the middle of nowhere. "You ready for bed, kiddo?"

It was the first time Daddy used that nickname. But I replied I was.

We'd talked so much we were pretty quiet now as we went inside and got ready for bed. Normally Daddy slept in a T-shirt and shorts but that evening he peeled off his shirt. In the lamplight I could admire the powerful chest muscle and ripped abs. Best of all that DILF body was covered in a trimmed coat of salt-and-pepper fur. Before Daddy I didn't realize I was into older men. Now, I had to check my gaze.

"It's ok to look, buddy," the man said. His voice was as soft and encouraging as I'd ever heard it.

"What?" I replied in a checked grunt.

He tossed the shirt aside and turned to face me directly. He was a masculine god, even more alluring for his quiet nature. "It's OK to look," he repeated. "That's what Daddies are for."

The words were fucked up but they gave me a boner, instantly. I couldn't help it.

Daddy saw and was unfazed, peeling down his joggers to show off his soft genitals. That cock was meaty and matched the low-hanging full nuts in their shaved-smooth sac. It wasn't the first cock I'd seen of course, but it was the first live one I'd seen in a sort of sexual situation.

He walked over and pulled down the bed sheets. Daddy's backside was just as magnificent as his front. Strong back and a meaty round ass, the kind I didn't know 50-something men had. But Daddy had one.

My body was shaking, nervously, but the man was acting normal, getting into bed and pulling up the sheet to his abdomen. He gave one more look over.

"If you want to join me Carter, that's your move."

I didn't know if this was some Outward Bound trap or mindgame. A part of me didn't care, I was so horny. It's as if my brain couldn't stop my body from slipping out of my bed and crossing over. The one thing that gave me courage was seeing Daddy scoot his bed to the side to give me room to get in as he lifted the sheet a little. I could see a flash of his erection, even, thick and meaty like him.

"Stay strong, kiddo," he said softly and I nodded, getting into the bed to join him, my body shaking.

"There," he grinned as I finally settled into a lying position next to him. I could feel the heat of his body even if I was afraid to touch him still.

"You're first time with a man?" Daddy asked.

"Yes, Daddy." It was the first time I called him that. It made him smile, which made me glad.

His fingers touched my flank. I was still wearing my shorts but was shirtless and the skin contact felt incredible. This wasn't faking it with a girl.

"You're a very handsome young man, Carter," Daddy said in that soft tenor voice of his. "I'm honored to be your Daddy."

With that the mean leaned in and placed his lips against mine. It was my first kiss with a man, and nothing prepared me for it. A tingle went up my body and my prick surged even harder in my shorts. Particularly when Daddy's tongue pressed forward between my lips and into my mouth.

I was following his lead. Daddy was my coach at that moment. Coach in life and Coach in sex. I couldn't have dreamed of a better one. It was intense and sexual and passionate, but we also took our time.

As we got into it, I got the courage to feel him. His hairy, muscular, warm body. I reached down and touched his cock, hard and alive in my grip. My first dick, and one I'd never forget.

The way I moaned made Daddy pull back from the kiss.

"You like that, buddy?" he grinned.

"Yes, sir," I hissed.

"You like dick," he said with assured ease. "Don't let anyone make you think you're a lesser man because of it."

"No, Daddy," I replied, gripping his boner one last time before relinquishing it. I had to feel up the rest of him, too. More.

He slipped my shorts down, at least from one side till I decided to help him out. My dick was sap-wet and as rigid as I had ever remembered it being.

"You're not the only one," he said. "Not the only young man into dick. Your buddy Dave..." he started.

That jolted me in surprise. "For real?"

Daddy nodded. His hand now circled around my crotch before his fingers grazed my boner. "For real."

I don't know if it was jealousy or something else I was feeling. "You do stuff with him?" I asked.

The man shook his head. "No. He has a different Daddy," he explained, pausing before deciding his could share the information. "Connell."

Well, fuck me, I thought. The last thing I would expect.

Now Daddy's lips were on my neck, kissing me as his hand alternated between massaging my smoother body and stroking my cock. "You up for the full ride tonight, Carter?" he asked.

If he'd asked me that even an hour before, I would have chickened out. But the body contact and the sexual intimacy made me want it all.

"Yeah, Daddy, I do," I answered. "Stay strong, right?"

That got a laugh. He leaned up. I'd never seen him look so hot, so handsome. "Yeah, kiddo... that's right. Stay strong." He leaned in for another kiss, softer this time. It felt right. Righter than right.

Then he started working his way down, kissing my chest and abs, feeling me up some, telling me he was going to take his time.

I got my dick sucked for the first time. I got my balls licked. Then Daddy urged me to pull back my legs and proceeded to give me my first rim job.

I decided then and there that two months here wasn't going to be enough. I hoped my Dad would keep me here the whole damn summer.

"Oh fuck!" I hissed. It was stimulating and naughty and tickling at the same time. I loved getting eaten out. I didn't have anyone to compare it to, but Daddy was a pro. Eager, intense yet also working in some finesse to keep it intersting.

I slowly relaxed my hole. My whole body was relaxed, in fact, lying back into the bed, looking up at the ceiling as I kept my legs pulled back for Daddy.

The first finger entry caught me by surprise. I looked down to see Daddy's brown eyes fixed on me, as he worked his finger in and out.

"Stay strong, buddy," he urged softly.

"Fuck yeah, Daddy," I replied. Trying to be his good soldier. Daddy was gonna make me a man that night, and I wanted to be all man for him.

He finally pulled back and reached over. I didn't even notice the little jar there before, but Daddy unscrewed the lid and dug in. There was some liquidy grease that coated his fingers.

And now my asshole. Damn, it made his two fingers feel incredible going in. And out. And in again.

"Yeah, you're hungry, kiddo."

I grunted. Those fingers were feeling intense in a great way, but short circuiting my thought. I flashed to think of Dave, imagining Mike Connell doing this to him.

A third finger now breached my relaxed ring. It gave a few gentle prods then pulled out.

"You're ready."

The man scooted in place, his hard dick standing straight up from his hairy crotch that was still darker brown than his chest hair. I had felt but not gotten a real good look at his cock, but Daddy was real thick and maybe 6.5 inches in length. The guy was horned up, too, judging by how rigid his meat was. He slathered some of that grease on his boner and pushed it down to line himself up.

"The entry might be tough," he warned. "Or not."

"You better not say, 'Stay strong,'" I joked.

That got a laugh out of the man. "You're all man, Carter," he said.

And like that his cock was breaching my hole.

"Unnfg!" I let out, before I caught myself. The sting surprised me. It didn't hurt too bad, but the unfamiliarity of it freaked me out some.

Daddy's hands rand along my abs, gently, coaxing me silently to relax. I tried, until I was successful. More dick slid into me. The man was patient, but I could tell he was really turned on.

I was getting my cherry taken away, and I was thrilled, particularly when Daddy's cock bored deeper. Weirdly, the deeper the man went the better it felt. Daddy felt bigger than 6.5 inches. Maybe I'd underestimated his size, maybe it was just the psychological effect of having him buried inside me.

"Fuck yeah, kiddo," Daddy growled. "Take it."

I looked up at him. The man was a stud who knew what he was doing. "You done this before?" I asked. "Taken a guy's virginity?"

The question caught him off guard. It was almost like he didn't want to answer me. But he looked down with those soulful brown eyes and replied, "I have, Carter. Many times." He pulled his hips back and thrust in. THAT felt fricking amazing and I held onto his meaty arms. Then again. "But I care about each and every one," he added. His thrusts got faster, as Daddy intuited I was receptive. "I care about you, kiddo."

Daddy was taking me there. Physically and psychologically, he was showing me how amazing getting fucked could be. The man wasn't rough, but he pumped faster and harder. He was teaching me I loved it that way. I held on and looked up at him and felt my prick quiver.

"Fuck me, Daddy!" I hissed.

"Yeah, kiddo. Daddy's got ya." His body seemed in control but his breath was ragged and heavy. The man was turned on like hell.

That thick cock seemed a blur inside me now, its way in my tunnel greased up and the heavy hard rod punching some spot inside me.

I dind't realize I was so close to cumming until Daddy's greased fist wrapped around my bone. Not even needing to stroke it, just touching me made me fire off. I saw white, and my body felt hot and tense, then it all got released with a series of cum shots firing out of my young jock body.

I tried to keep my vision, to look up at Daddy in gratitude. To watch his own O face take over form the calm, collected surety of his experience. That got tossed out the window when Daddy came. He was as lost in pleasure as me. That made me happy.

We crashed together. Holding onto one another's hot sweaty bodies, them our lips meeting to kiss again.

"Oh buddy," he hissed finally. Like I was the one who'd done him a favor. Maybe I had.

We didn't talk after, we didn't need to. Instead, Daddy held me in a spoon position and we drifted off to sleep. At least for a few hours before we had sex again.

***

The next week, Daddy had me pack my backpack, and he led me back to main compound. I would have been sad our alone time was over, but I knew it wasn't going to be our last. Daddy didn't have to tell me. I just knew he'd be in my life from now on and me in his.

Punk dude Pete was back. His hair had grown out and was in a military buzz and his snarl was gone. Dave though was the one who welcomed me first with a bro hug. The other guys followed suit.

I wondered how many of them had a Daddy.

***

I was part of the Program now. Welcoming the newcomers. Bonding with the cynical ones. I'd been where they were and knew what they were going through. I'd been a fuck up, too.

Two months went by quickly. My Dad was there to pick me up. He had an apprehensive look on his face. Connell told me that Dad had been updated on my progress, but after what my father had been through maybe he was nervous I'd not been truly changed.

I had my mobile phone back, and I'd already looked at the last messages multiple times. "Stay strong, kiddo - Daddy." Then "You better stay in touch. Love ya, Carter."

I took one last look and tucked my phone into my pocket before running over to give my Dad a big hug.

"Damn, Sport."

Dad hadn't called me Sport in ages.

"Thank you, Dad," I said. There would be more to say later. But the look on his face was a huge reward. His fingers grazed behind my ear as he held my head steady and looked into my eyes. Like he was reunited with a son he'd lost for real.

"OK if we break up the journey home?" he asked, snapping out of his spell and grabbing my bag from me. "It's a long drive."

"Of course," I said.

We got settled into the front seat and Dad started the car. We made some small talk, and Dad caught me up on life back home. Though I didn't miss much, other than maybe Dad re-treating the wood on the back deck.

We were winding down the mountain and re-entering civilization. At least if these small, one-traffic-light towns counted as civilization.

Dad shifted from the small talk. "So... you survived OK, Son?"

I nodded. "More than survived, Dad. Thrived." I had bought into the whole Program now.

He seemed pleased. "I, um... heard from an old Army buddy of mine," he said. Something in his tone seemed laden with meaning. "He said he got to know you real well."

I blushed. I knew damn well my father was talking about Daddy.

"Yes, sir. We got real tight."

Dad had a good idea of what I meant. He gave a gentle nod and glanced over at me. "I'm glad to hear."

I was chubbing up in my jeans now thinking about Daddy. "OK if I go visit him sometime, Dad?" I asked.

Dad's voice got quiet. "That can probably be arranged."

I thought maybe I freaked my dad out. But we were quiet for a lot of that drive. It had been around 3PM when I'd checked out of the Compound, and it was getting dinner time.

I loved diner food and after two months of Outward Bound meals, I was ready for a real restaurant meal. I scarfed down my food, which amused Dad. "Looks like they haven't been feeding you, Sport," he said.

"They definitely don't believe in creature comforts," I said. I pulled out my phone. "This might have been the hardest thing to live without." I mostly was checking to see if Daddy sent me another message.

Dad laughed. Then he got serious. "So... no hard feelings, Carter?"

I sighed. "God, Dad. After what I did to you? What I put your through? I don't know how to make it up to you."

"You don't have to make anything up to me, Son. Just stay on the straight and narrow. At least till you find yourself."

I took that in. "I'm finding myself, Dad. For real."

"That's all a father can ask," he said.

Dad was normally not great at expressing emotion, and already he was itching to get the check and pay for the meal.

We drove a little bit more. Dad had me find an available hotel that wasn't too expensive. I don't think I realized until we checked in how long of a day it had been. Emotionally as much as anything.

I decided not to check my phone again. Daddy and I would find a groove to correspond and to meet again. I trusted him.

After I brushed my teeth, Dad was in one of the beds, watching TV on low volume. He wasn't build quite as strong as Daddy but his upper body was solid, and he had the same soft furry chest. As I stripped down to my briefs, Dad's eyes watched me furtively. Probing me with soft expectation.

I took the initiative this time. Just feeling Dad's eyes on my half-naked body was all the signal I needed. Pausing at my own bed, I turned back to him. "Ok if I join you instead?" I asked.

Dad was too scared to reply. But he nodded and slid over.

Only when I got into bed with him did I realize that Dad's bod was more solid than I initially thought. His clothes always hid the hard tone of his muscle and he had some love handles that stopped shy of a beer belly.

Our kiss was soft and taboo as fuck. Dad's hands clung to my body, like eagle talons. I pushed my tongue into my father's mouth and felt him plunge his back. Dad didn't kiss like Daddy did. It was hard and needy.

Just as impetuously he and I stripped down our underwear. Our dicks were a lot alike. Longer, regular thickness, with a gentle curve to the right, heaving leaking. Like twins. Dad looked down at mine, like I did at his.

"You're all grown up, Carter."

"Yeah, Dad." I reached down and touched his cock. My dad's cock. He wasn't Daddy, he wasn't my first man, but the forbidden aspect made it off the charts. "I gotta learn to be your son again, though."

Dad gulped. His eyes grew misty wet. "You never stopped, sport. Not even this last year."

We kissed. Dad was responding to my soft approach, like I'd responded to Daddy's. My hand ran along his strong chest and his softer middle as we made out. I felt every bit of guilt for how I'd treated Dad and it was coming out in the only way I knew. Like Dad, I wasn't good at expressing emotion.

But I was good at this.

I broke off the kiss with a playful smile. Dad seemed to be trying to read what I was thinking. I let him wonder a minute longer.

I scooted down, kind of kneeling on the bed, till I was face to face with the dick that made me. I touched it again, feeling its poker hot heat and its steel rigidity. I could smell his masculine scent.

"Sport..." he urged, as if telling me something.

His next words caught in his throat as I took his dick into my mouth. I paused a second. Daddy had instructed me in this, but my father's cock felt particularly dry until I summoned up some extra saliva. Then I went down on him, slowly, teasingly.

I was going to make things up to Dad in the way I knew how.

He placed his hand on my head, softly cradling it as I lovingly blew him to completion.

***

The next morning when Dad was in the shower I sent a text.

"Daddy, you didn't tell me you knew my father."

He was up and the reply was quick. "You had to find out for yourself." Then, "I hope you can be a junior counselor next summer."

I thought of what next year would mean. Being off at college, enjoying some independence. Making new friends.

But I knew that meant nothing. "You know I will," I wrote.

"Stay strong," Daddy replied.

"Stay strong," I wrote back, then set down my phone.

[tightjeansjavi]

♡ And They Were Roommates ♡

chapter 1 : The Guard Dog

Pairing | Joel Miller x Logan Howlett x f!reader

A/N: this chapter got away from me so fast, but I’m really pleased with how it turned out! After seeing Deadpool & Wolverine for the first time a couple weeks ago, I immediately re-entered my marvel phase and rewatched both Deadpool movies and all of the x-men/wolverine movies (yes, it’s an obsession) the Wolverine was always one of my favorite marvel characters outside of Deadpool and Iron Man. I’m so happy that myself and others are taking the leap to write for him and other characters 🥹 I hope you all enjoy this mini series! I’m super excited for it 💗 comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you @sinsofsummers for betaing and letting me yap at u! And thank u @syd-djarin for also letting me yap 🥰

word count: 8.8k

Summary: after saving the world with Wade, Logan finds himself in a new, strange world. Human life is scarce, (as far as he can see). There’s weird looking mushroom-headed fucks, and he doesn’t have a clue what year it is, either. After traveling aimlessly for months, the Wolverine runs into you, and your guard dog of a boyfriend, Joel Miller.

Warnings: mature themes, smut, implied age gap, brief mention of a gunshot wound, touch of angst, language, derogatory comments about mutants (by Joel) alcohol consumption, brief mention of ouid, pining, hints of a throuple/love triangle, voyeurism (sorta) this Logan is the ‘worst’ variant, but you can picture him however you’d like!, reader has no physical descriptions (I imagine her to be short, but she is a blank slate) +18, minors dni!

series masterlist

If someone had told you before the outbreak that in 20ish years, (math is not my strong suit, sorry) you would be living the life of “luxury” with not only one guard dog as a boyfriend, but two who also were boyfriends, you would have laughed in that person's face and told them that they were in fact insane—but now? Now you wouldn’t even question it. Your life in Jackson before meeting Joel Miller and Logan Howlett was the closest thing to normalcy that you had experienced since the outbreak. You had a home again, a job, and a purpose. But like all things, you were craving more; something new and exciting. Instead of you finding it, Joel Miller found you—or was it the other way around?

He was old fashioned in every sense. Insisting on properly pursuing you after you caught his eye at the corner of the bartop of the tipsy bison. Your care-free spirit and intoxicating aroma had his mind reeling at the thoughts of what he could be doing to you if it was just the two of you in the Bison, all alone with no distractions or disturbances.

He hadn’t thought about women, or sex, or settling down with someone in over 20 years. But here you were, throwing back another shot of whiskey and subconsciously unnerving him further without having any idea as to what it was that you were doing to him.

You were, however, aware that he was watching you, carefully between his harsh swigs from the glass that was perfectly perched in one of his meaty palms.

Mr. New and Exciting is right there. What are you waiting for? Your mind pointed out the obvious as if there was a flashing arrow right above the man’s head of thick, salt and peppered streaked curls that you were dying to run your fingers through.

You downed the remaining contents of your glass for that extra boost of liquid courage and made your move before he could even properly execute his own plan to approach you.

He stiffened, jaw ticking when he felt the bare heat from your arm brush against his own, sending sparks shooting down his forearm all the way down to where his large hand was tightly gripping the glass.

“I’m here to break the ice between us, stranger. Y’know, considering you’ve been staring at me for the past…hour.”

“Excuse me?” He scoffed, bringing the rim of his glass up to his lips for a moment. “Think you oughta get your eyes checked out first before ya start makin’ accusations.” He grumbled, low and deep. His eyes flickered in your direction, brows furrowed together across his forehead in a harsh line.

“Think my eyes are working just fine, thank you very much.”

He tore his harsh gaze away from your face and focused his attention on the mounted moose head on the wall instead. “Buzz off, darlin’. I ain’t lookin’ for conversation.” He snarled and went to slide off the worn down seat, but he was frozen in his spot when your hand wrapped around his bulging bicep, and he felt like a leashed, obedient dog.

“You think I’m here to talk?” You laughed and he immediately felt a hot flush rise from his neck and creep up his face at your brash confidence.

“Ain’t that what most women want nowadays?” He countered your boldness with a gravelly chuckle that sent warmth immediately spreading across your entire body at the scratchy, deep, sound that emitted from his throat.

“Lucky for you, I’m not like most women. Now, how about instead of eye fucking me from across the bar, why don’t we skip the small talk and you take me home instead?” You said with a coy smile and a suggestive tilt of your chin. You loosened your grip around his bicep only to then drag your fingers down the expanse of his arm, watching the muscles there subtly flex from your featherlight touch.

He weighed out his options, glancing around the crowded bar, leaning in close to crowd your personal space entirely. His eyes flickered down towards your lips, and then his heedy gaze met your own almost in a challenge.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice, darlin.’” He rasped, reaching for your hand.

And only when you found yourself with your back pressed against Joel Miller’s front door, and his lips attacking your own, did he finally tell you his name between bruising kisses and wandering hands.

And well, the rest is history.

~~

Your arrangement with Joel worked flawlessly for an entire year, and while you both were content without having any labels, being known as Joel Miller’s girl never failed to make your heart melt, and he fucking turned into a goddamn puddle on the floor anytime he got to hear refer to him as your boyfriend.

Life truly could not have gotten better for either of you, but it certainly could get worse in Joel’s case of repeated misfortune. That misfortune being Logan Howlett, the last standing mutant to exist in this universe and now the bane of Joel’s existence.

“What in the fuck are those things comin’ out of your hands?!” A very angry, cold, and bewildered Joel Miller barked over the metallic click of the Wolverine's claws being unsheathed between his knuckles.

“Ya got two workin’ eyes, don’t ya, pal? The fuck do they look like to you?!” The stranger growled, advancing towards the other man.

“Joel?!” Another man’s voice was heard in the distance, followed by thundering hooves and a sharp whinny.

“I got this handled, Tommy!” The other man snapped when Tommy rode up beside him, immediately hopping down from the saddle with his rifle at the ready at the immediate threat in front of them.

Logan was able to quickly piece together with limited information that these two men were brothers, just based on their similar looks and mannerisms.

“Listen, boys, if I was you, I’d lower them guns and pretend that ya never crossed paths with me.”

“Are those fuckin’ knives coming out of his fists?!” Tommy Miller whispered to his brother who nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah, he’s some mutant freak. Somethin’ FEDRA musta cooked up.” Joel responded in an equally hushed whisper.

Logan swiftly turned his head to the side, an audible cracking sound in his neck could be heard through the chilling evening air. “You’re really gonna regret callin’ me that, bub.” He snarled, barring his teeth like a rabid dog and advanced forward with full intent to slash his claws through the other man’s chest.

Joel’s reflexes were surprisingly fast even in his age, and when Logan advanced forward, he pulled the trigger on his own rifle, the shot ringing through and startling a flock of birds in a nearby tree, sending them flying upwards towards the sky in a haphazardly direction, squawking loudly.

The bullet hit Logan square in the chest, but the Wolverine barely even staggered backwards from the force of the bullet, and he let out an animalistic, nothing-short-of-pissed-off growl while the two men a short distance away had equal looks of horror on their faces when Logan’s body began to push the embedded bullet out from his chest and heal the once open wound.

The single bullet landed in the snow beneath Logan’s boots just as a high pitched whistle could be detected in the distance.

“What the actual fuck…his body can regenerate itself?!” Tommy whispered to his brother in disbelief.

Joel ignored him and raised his rifle towards the Wolverine again, thumb hovering over the trigger when you appeared on your horse through the snowy cluster of evergreens.

“JOEL! HOLD YOUR FIRE!” You demanded and swung your leg over the saddle, landing on the ground without fault and quickly inserted yourself between the Miller Brother’s and the seething Wolverine with your hands lifted in the air above your head.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?!” Joel diverted his attention to you and your untimely arrival. “Get behind me! We don’t know who or what the fuck this guy is, and he’s clearly dangerous!”

“Listen to your girl, bub. Lower your fuckin’ gun and jus’ let me pass, and we can forget this whole thing fuckin’ happened!” Logan yelled over your shoulder, nostrils flaring and muscles flexing with unbridled rage.

“Will you both just shut the fuck up?!” You snarled in frustration and glared over your shoulder at your unpredictable boyfriend. Let’s all just lower our weapons and take some deep, calming, breaths.”

“Un-fuckin’ believable.” The Wolverine scoffed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at your assertiveness.

Joel and Tommy both slowly and very reluctantly lowered their rifles towards the ground, but the Wolverine’s extended metal claws did not retract at your demand.

“That includes you too, knives.”

Logan couldn’t help but smirk at your choice of nickname given the current circumstances. Man, you had some bigger balls than your boyfriend, that was for damn sure.

“Say it to me a little more gently, sweetheart. Your boyfriend over there got me all riled up, and I jus’ really wanna slash him to bits right now.” He cooed, smirk only then expanding into a wide, toothy grin at both your reaction, and Joel’s.

“Hey! Don’t you fuckin’ talk to her, you—”

“Alright, boys!” You hissed and turned your back so it was fully facing Joel. “Now, this ain’t some contest to see who has the bigger cock, alright? Looks like y’all got off on the wrong foot…clearly.” You stated the obvious.

“Yeah, and I was just passin’ through the area when your boyfriend and I unfortunately crossed paths.” He said gruffly, hackles raised in irritation.

“You’ll have to excuse my boyfriend, he can be trigger happy at times, but within reason. So, let’s start this whole thing over, alright?”

“Think we should just send this freak on his way—”

“JOEL!” You and Tommy whispered loudly in unison.

“Maybe you oughta put a muzzle on that one. Seems like he can’t keep his fucking mouth shut.” Logan snickered.

“Yeah, don’t worry about him, alright? He’ll get muzzled later. So, uh—where exactly are you headed…?” You questioned him warily, realizing that you still didn’t know this mysterious man’s name.

As if he was capable of reading your mind, he could tell by your facial expressions and body language alone that you were wondering what his name was.

“It’s Logan.” He answered your hypothetical question softly, far softer than he had spoken to Joel. “Logan Howlett. That’s my name. And to answer your question, I’m not headed anywhere in particular. Like I said, jus’ was passin’ through the area. Not lookin’ for trouble.” He lowered his fists to his sides, claws finally retracting into his knuckles, the skin healing over instantly.

“Logan.” You repeated his name just as softly. “I understand that you were just passing through, but unfortunately, we can’t just let people pass through without stopping them and questioning them.”

“Yeah, well, don’t think your boyfriend had any intention of just questioning me, sweetheart. S’a good thing that you arrived jus’ in time, cause the way that I see it…” he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and cockily tilted his head to the side, “you wouldn’t have a boyfriend anymore, and woulda been bringing what’s left of him back home in pieces.”

Joel’s muscles went rigid and his eyes darkened, appearing like two black holes instead of the comforting warm brown tone that you were accustomed to. He shook off Tommy’s hand immediately when he went to grab his shoulder to drag him away from the intense brewing situation.

You let out a sigh, rubbing your temples with your gloved fingers. Fucking men and their big dicks and even bigger egos. Un-fucking-believable.

“That is quite enough!” You snapped through the frigid air. “Tommy, please be a doll and escort your brother back to town. I can handle this on my own.”

“Like hell—”

“She’s got this handled, Joel. She’s more than capable. If she ain’t back within the next hour, we’ll come back.” Tommy reassured him with a gentle, yet firm squeeze to his shoulder.

“Fine.” Joel muttered under his breath, pulling his shoulder free again and took a few steps towards you. “See you at home, baby.” He whispered only for your ears to hear and pulled you in for a swift kiss on the lips.

Logan couldn’t help but let out a low wolf whistle at the sight. Fair play. He mused to himself.

“Yeah, see you at home.” You mumbled against his lips, kissing him back and gently shoving him away towards the direction of Tommy and their awaiting horses.

“That’s some guard dog of a boyfriend that you got yourself there, darlin’,” Logan said in amusement, unsheathing his middle claw in Joel’s direction with a condescending and dripping in arrogance grin.

“You have no idea.” You said with a light laugh, turning on your heel to face him again. “So, you’re just passing through the area, right?”

His middle claw retracted slowly with a clink, and he crossed his broad arms against his chest with a tight nod of his head. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Are you infected?”

“The fuck—infected? I don’t got a goddamn clue what you’re talkin’ about, sweetheart.”

“Y’know, the cordyceps infection? The outbreak happened like…twenty somethin’ years ago, but there’s still infected roaming about.”

“Huh.” He chuckled softly, balancing his weight from one foot to the other. “That would explain the lack of humans that I’ve run into lately. This earth seems pretty damn scarce.”

“This…earth? I don’t think I quite pick up what you’re putting down, Logan.”

He pushed out a deep sigh and slowly dragged a hand over his face. “Don’t even get me started.”

“Alright, and your claws…have you always had them?”

He steeled his expression, lips curving downwards into a subtle frown, and his body language alone was an indication that you crossed an invisible boundary.

“Since I was a kid, yes.” He flexed his hands and stared at them as if they weren’t attached to his body. “Used to be less…metal.”

“And what about the fact that your body can regenerate itself and heal? Is that…part of your mutation?” You gestured to the bullet laying in the snow by his boots, still stained with his blood, and yet there was no sign of a wound in his chest any longer.

“Yeah. I still…feel physical pain like everyone else, but it only lasts for a second at most. Well, depending on the severity of the wound, and how many I sustained.”

A hidden flush rose up his cheeks and he coughed into his shoulder to hide his bashfulness from your prying eyes. He gave you a disgruntled look, nodding in an attempt to be polite, but it came out gruffer than he intended. “The hell is FEDRA?”

It was your turn to feel flustered beneath his stare, and stoic demeanor. You almost didn’t notice the way you spewed out the facts, familiar to you like the back of your own hand.

He inclined his head, but looked back up and narrowed his eyes. “And these…infected? They used to say that about us—I mean, me. What’s the difference?”

You tried not to look so shocked at his confessions of ignorance, and somehow managed to blurt out an explanation.

“Oh, those mushroom head lookin’ freaks? Yeah, I’ve run into them a few times here and there, but they all run away from me.” He shrugged. “What in god's green earth is a rat king?”

Your eyes widened drastically. You had never heard of such a thing. “You’re telling me that the infected run away from you? There’s no way—I mean, that’s a first. The rat king is…never mind. Let’s just hope you don’t meet one.”

“Might have somethin’ to do with the Adamantium is my guess. Gotta say, they’re pretty nasty lookin’.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You snorted under your breath. “Look, Joel is probably gonna kill me, but given the current circumstances…do you want to come back to town with me? You’re a long way from wherever you came from, and well, you look like you could use some rest and a proper meal.” You knew with full intent that offering Logan to come back to Jackson with you was risky for a multitude of reasons, and the biggest reason was knowing that Joel was gonna throw a fucking fit.

“I don’t think your boyfriend would really like that idea, sweetheart.” He said with a sigh, picturing what the next few months would be like in total isolation, with no reprieve or end.

“He’ll give me an earful about it, but morally, I can’t just leave you out here alone. So, are you capable of riding a horse?” You gestured with your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of your horse impatiently pawing at the snow.

“I suppose a bit of hospitality doesn’t sound all that bad. Y’all got liquor? Could use me a stiff drink about now. And yeah, I know a thing or two about riding.”

Oh.

“We got more than just liquor, Logan.” You leaned in with a small grin, “we got a bar, bacon, and endless whiskey that has since been perfected by Joel’s brother, Tommy. He’s the more reasonable one out of the pair.”

“Shit. Are ya serious? Bacon and whiskey?” His mouth was already watering at the phantom taste of liquor on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a damn good drink.

“Deadly serious.”

“Well then, lead the way.” He nodded in your horse's direction.

You made the choice to stay in the front of the saddle while Logan situated himself on the back and instinctively wrapped his arms around you. “Sorry.” He whispered when he felt your body tense up in his loose grip. “Old habits.”

“S’alright. I just wasn’t expecting it is all.” You tighten your grip around the leather reins, squeezing your calves against the horse's side followed by a gentle click of your tongue to urge the horse into a trot.

The ride back to Jackson was a comfortably quiet one, and it was obvious that Logan wasn’t much of a small talker, and you were more than okay with that.

The only sound between you and him was the occasional squeak of the saddle, a soft snort from your horse, and the thundering hooves across the almost frozen landscape. You slowed to a lope, reaching behind you blindly into the saddlebag and grabbed a white flag, raising it in the air above your head.

The large, looming gates that protected Jackson from outside forces were suddenly pulled open, revealing the hidden community inside and Logan was completely awestruck.

You looked over your shoulder to see his reaction, and you couldn’t help the smile that slowly crossed over your lips at the sight of this brutish, and conflicted man, almost with tears in his eyes because he was seeing what remained of civilization and humanity at the core.

~~

To say that Joel was pissed when you showed up with that fucking mutant freak outside his front door was an understatement. Joel was livid—furious—charged up with rage the second he locked eyes with Logan.

“You have got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. You brought him home?!” Joel hissed between his teeth, almost trembling from how riled up he was.

Man, imagine if this fucker was unfortunate enough to meet Wade fucking Wilson. Logan thought to himself, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath at the mental image of Joel meeting Deadpool for the first time. What a sight that would be.

“Joel, I know you’re angry, and rightfully so, but he’s not infected, and it felt morally wrong for me to just leave him out there on his own.”

“Oh, so I guess we just fuckin’ take in strays now? Is that it? Y’know, you’re supposed to run these things by me first before you just do something irrationally stupid like this!” He hissed.

“Ellie was a stray, and you took her in. I see no difference in this, Joel.” You attempted to reason with him.

“Who’s Ellie?” Logan chimed in, leaned against the entryway with his arms crossed over his chest like he owned the damn place.

“None of your goddamn business, bud.” Joel snapped back quickly, his words cold and biting, but they had no effect on the Wolverine.

“Ellie is his kid. Well, his adopted daughter. Actually, wolvie, she’d lose her goddamn mind if she got to meet a real superhero like you.”

“Not a chance in hell. This—thing isn’t staying here, and he sure as fuck ain’t meetin’ my kid.”

“Ah, so we’ve gone from mutant freak to thing? I’ll take that as an improvement.” Logan snickered under his breath. “I ain't a hero. Far from it actually, so she would unfortunately be met with disappointment.”

“Okay, well, unfortunately, you aren’t the only one who calls the shots around here, Joel. Now, I promised Logan that I would get him a proper meal and a stiff drink. So, either suck it the fuck up and come with us, or stay here and pout like a little kid.”

Damn.

“I hate when you act like you got the bigger set of balls in the relationship, baby.” Joel grumbled under his breath and was already reaching for his discarded coat that was hanging along the well-loved couch.

“Actually, I do have the bigger set of balls, hun. You just need a little gentle reminder now and then.” You shot him a playful wink and pivoted on your heel just as Logan quickly moved out of the way so you could pass through the doorway.

Joel gave the other man a cold stare as he passed him, one that was returned with an acknowledging nod and a small grin before the door swung shut behind the three of you.

Logan had five straight glasses of whiskey in under 20 minutes, leaving you, Joel, and Tommy equally impressed and a tad concerned considering a normal man would surely be on his ass by now after consuming that much liquor in one sitting, but Logan didn’t even appear to be tipsy at all.

“Wanted to apologize to you fellas for how things went down earlier.” Logan announced over the loud chatter and leaned in over the bartop where Tommy was drying off a glass and Joel was swirling the amber contents of his own glass, lost in thought.

“No hard feelings, man.” Tommy was the first to speak up. “I’m sure she told ya why we acted that way in the first place, yeah? We get all kinds of folks crossin’ our paths on patrol, and as long as they ain’t infected, or appearing to be an immediate threat, we let ‘em in.”

“Well, apparently those who appear to be an immediate threat surpass the rules and get let in anyway.” Joel added, tone dripping in sarcasm over the rim of his glass against his lips.

Logan stiffened, jaw clenching and unclenching and he could feel the concealed claws beneath the skin on his knuckles just begging to be unleashed, but he held them at bay.

“I get it, bub. You’re viewing me as a threat, ain’t that right? I show up in your town as a stranger, an outcast with your girl, and you got your hackles raised like a goddamn guardog. Well, I can assure you that I’m not a threat. Learned the hard way a long time ago to not impose on another man’s relationship.”

“As if I’m gonna trust your word?” Joel scoffed, rolling his shoulders forward before he directly looked over at the other man. “I ain’t gonna win a fight with her on this one, but if I even catch a whiff of you tryin’ somethin’ on her, I’ll kick you out so goddamn fast.”

“Noted. Although, I think I’ll stick around for the time being. If your ego wasn’t so inflated, you would probably realize that keepin’ me around is gonna benefit you and this community.”

“Benefit me how exactly? If you’re talkin’ weapons, we don’t need your assistance there. We’re stacked with enough manpower in case there ever was an attack. No one’s got the balls to do that.”

"Like, adamantium.” Your voice floated sweetly over the two brooding men, as you slid into the empty seat between them. “Not only that, but the infected literally turn the other way when he’s crossed paths with them, and oh, let’s not forget that one of his mutation powers is that he can regenerate and heal himself which means he’s pretty much immortal.”

Joel’s face turned red hot with embarrassment with a twinge of irritation. He downed the rest of his glass and slammed it on the counter. He barked an order at his brother to top his glass off. “Bullshit.”

“Would be a shitty lie.” Logan rasped, sliding his empty glass in Tommy’s direction. “I’m older than you, bub.”

“I think I’ve had enough of fantasyland for one fuckin’ day. Adamantium this, mutation that, fucking knives coming out of your hands? Yeah, sure. Older than me? Fat fuckin’ chance, pal.” Joel scoffed, shaking his head and muttering more profanities under his breath.

“He’s like…at least a century old, Joel. If not older.”

“Who is at least a century old?” Ellie chimed in next to Joel as she leaned over the bartop. “Uncle Tommy, can you pour me a beer, pretty please?”

“Ellie.” Joel grumbled, “shouldn’t you be at home doin’ homework?”

Ah, so that’s the old man’s kid. Fitting.

“Dude, it’s the weekend, and I already finished my homework. Dina and I are goin’ to the movies later, but she’s at home freshening up.” Ellie reached over to mess up his hair, but Joel already knew what she was about to do and gently caught her wrist in his hand before she could even get close to his hair.

“The movies?” Logan's question immediately drew Ellie’s attention as Joel dropped her wrist.

“Never seen your face around here before. You new to town?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Logan shrugged. “You're Joel’s kid then?”

“The one and only.” She beamed proudly while Joel scowled. “Wait, so who is at least a century old? I know we’re not talking about you, dad. But you are getting up there. Is that another gray hair I’m detecting? Soon you’re gonna be wearing diapers—” her playful rambling was cut off by Joel’s sharp and scolding tone cutting through the air like a sharpened knife.

“ELLIE!” He half yelled, cheeks inflamed and face turning and even brighter shade of red.

“I’m only kidding! Well, half kidding! One day you will be wearing diapers, old man.”

Logan laughed, a full on, belly-ache inducing laugh where the corner of his eyes crinkled and his smile lines appeared. “Holy shit. Your kid’s a riot!”

“I’ve been telling him that forever, and he just won’t admit it!” She giggled and gently wrapped her arm around Joel’s shoulder to give him a half hug to which he begrudgingly hugged her back, trying to hide his small grin from being noticed.

“You remind me a lot of…well, an old friend of sorts.” Logan looked down.

Ellie finally found her chance to ruffle Joel’s and seized it before he could stop her. “What was the name of your friend? I’m assuming he’s dead, so rest in peace.”

“Ellie!” Joel softly scolded her, “it’s rude to assume that someone died—”

“Wade Wilson.” Logan said softly, staring down at his empty glass with a sigh.

Ellie’s eyes expanded, blown wide in shock and utter disbelief. She was a comic book nerd, and well—a nerd in general. Perhaps it was just sheer coincidence that this stranger knew a Wade Wilson. Surely, it couldn’t be the Wade Wilson that she immediately was thinking of, right?

“Holy fuck. Please don’t crush my dreams and tell me that I’m wrong, but are you talking about the Wade Wilson as in Deadpool? Dude—are you an Avenger?” Ellie leaned over the bartop in Logan’s direction, voice low in a hushed whisper.

“Kid, I’m the furthest thing from an Avenger.” He said quietly, sinking his weight back against the bartop stool. “But I did know Wade pretty well. The fucker is probably alive, somewhere. He’s like a cockroach that you can never kill.”

“Okay, but if you’re not an Avenger…then what are you?”

“I was an X-Man at one point, but they’re all dead now—because of me.”

“Oh my god, are you—you’re the Wolverine, aren’t you? What in the fuck are you doing here? Is this real life? Someone pinch me right now, because there is no way that Logan fucking Howlett is here in the flesh! Dude, can you show me your claws?!” Ellie asked excitedly and it was Joel’s job to rein her in a bit.

“Alright, kiddo. That’s enough questions, alright? Don’t wanna go and overwhelm him. He can show you his…claws another time. Last thing we want is all these people freaking out and screaming bloody murder, right?” Joel said softly to her in his usual dad tone.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. Sorry about that, Logan. I’m just like—a huge fan of you and the comics. I actually still can’t wrap my head around the fact that this is real life. Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. Hope you stick around!” She said sincerely before swiping up her glass of beer that was waiting for her and walked away to a different section of the crowded bar.

“Sorry about my kid. She is a huge fan, and definitely meant no harm by freaking out like that. I hope she wasn’t too invasive.”

“S’alright. There’s no harm done.” Logan reassured him.

Joel tapped his knuckles along the bartop, looking over at his brother first who was now at the other end of the bartop where his wife Maria was sitting. And then he looked at you and finally Logan. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot earlier today and I’m sorry about that. If you don’t got nowhere to go, you should consider staying in town. Sounds like you could be useful, like you said, and my kid would probably kill me if I kicked the Wolverine out for no good reason.”

“I don’t wanna impose, I swear. My plan was to just have a bite to eat and a few drinks and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Logan.” You finally spoke, “you should stay. There’s plenty of room for you here. We’ll have to figure out living arrangements, but in the meantime, you can sleep on our couch?”

The Wolverine’s warm hazel eyes slowly flitted over to you, a soft smile gracing his face before he glanced over at your boyfriend whose jaw was beginning to tick, again.

“Only if your guard dog is alright with that arrangement, sweetheart.”

Joel took a deep breath and released the built up tension that he felt in his shoulders. “The couch is all yours, Logan. We’ll get you out on patrol starting next week. You’ll fit right in.”

And boy, did he fit in.

~~

Logan did more than just fit in, he added a new welcoming dynamic to Jackson and he was an absolute hit with the kids both old and young. (He may or may not have smoked weed with Ellie, Dina and Jesse one night, but no one will ever know the truth)

He looked forward to being on patrol with Joel and Tommy every single day, (sometimes in the evenings). Having a purpose in his life again made him feel complete, and there was that extra perk of getting to kill people—bad guys, every now and then. Logan took numerous bullets for both Miller brothers and he felt this swelling sense of pride in his heart when Joel would go out of his way to tell him that he did a good job out there and sometimes there was even a firm, lingering pat on his shoulder followed by a, thanks for keeping the town safe, Logan. Don’t know what I’d do without ya.

Logan liked to hear those words from Joel’s mouth more than he was willing to admit. Almost as much as he liked coming home to you at the end of the very long and grueling day. Despite his promise to Joel that he wouldn’t try anything on you, he felt that there was nothing wrong with developing a harmless crush on both of his roommates, right?

Well, lucky for the Wolverine, you were beginning to fall down that rabbit hole, too. Especially when Logan would strut around the house shirtless in the mornings while you were getting ready for your day at the barn, ripped abs, resembling glossy freshly baked rolls were on full display paired with that knee-weakening smile that appeared over the rim of his steaming mug of coffee. He’d even accompany you to the barn, spending time with you and the horses till he would saddle up for patrol.

“Joel.” You whispered through the darkness in your shared bedroom.

“This better be goddamn important.” He grumbled tiredly, rolling over so he was facing you and draped his arm across your bare waist, tugging you into his chest so he could pepper your face with affectionate, sleepy kisses. “Thought you said you were too tired for round three, baby.” He drawled against your ear, playfully nipping at the lobe with his teeth.

“Baby, I promise you it’s super important.” You pressed a kiss to the sliver of exposed skin on his neck, throwing your thigh over his hip so if he wanted to, he could slip right into your silky, enticing warmth with ease.

“Mmm. Alright then. Spit it out. What’s on your mind, pretty girl.” He hummed against your skin, rolling his hips languidly into yours, a small grunt slipped past his lips when the head of his cock brushed through your slick folds and dragged upwards across your still sensitive clit.

“Y—you have to promise that you won’t get mad at me, okay?” You gasped softly, biting down on the juncture where his jaw met his neck.

“Baby, if you don’t fuckin’ spit it out right now, I’ll just have to fuck it out of ya.” He said through gritted teeth, reaching between your bodies with his freehand so he could grasp the base of his cock with ease and slowly feed himself into your warm, wet, enveloping walls with zero resistance.

“I want to fuck Logan.” You finally spit it out, waiting for your partner to scold you, but he did the complete opposite and bucked his hips against yours so he was completely bottomed out, stretching you open the same way he did a couple hours ago. “Yeah.” He gruffed out, finally finding your lips in a searing kiss, “know you do.”

Just down the stairs, lounged out on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand and tv remote in the other, Logan was trying his best to distract his brain from what he was hearing upstairs (damn his heightened sense of hearing). For the past 20 minutes he had been listening to you and Joel getting it on, and now he was dealing with a small problem—a rather large problem, actually. That problem being that the crotch section of his jeans were becoming unbearably tight, and even after he popped the button and yanked the zipper down, that wasn’t enough relief.

He let out a frustrated growl, throwing his head back against the couch and brought his freehand up to his forehead, rubbing his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. He was fighting an internal battle of whether he was going to act like a nasty dog and jerk himself off, or fight the urge all together. He fumbled with the remote, turning the tv up to full volume thinking that it would drown your sweet little noises out, and Joel’s manly grunts, but it did jack all and he finally gave in and gently palmed himself through his jeans.

That’s when he heard your voice as clear as day.

I want to fuck Logan

That’s all it took for the last shred of his resistance to fall away at the same rate that he had pulled his cock free, squeezing it firmly in his fist before he pulled his hand back, splitting a glob of saliva onto it and wrapped it back around the base of his cock.

~~

You let out a surprised squeak when Joel bucked his hips against yours, burying himself completely in your warm cunt. You scrambled to find something to grab onto, sinking your nails into his strong biceps when he withdrew his hips halfway before thrusting them forward again.

“Known for awhile that you want to fuck him, baby. Neither of you are great at hiding it either. You should see the way he drinks in your appearance the minute you walk into the goddamn room.” He mumbled against your lips, caging you in his arms when he began to pick up a steady rhythm, listening to the soft squelch of your pussy sucking him in further with each powerful thrust. “Thought about tellin’ Logan that he should just make a move, but I wanted to discuss it with you first.”

“Oh, fuck.” You moaned freely, lips falling away from the kiss briefly before finding one another again like two magnets. “So, you’re okay with it then?”

“Fuck yeah, I am. But under one condition.” He stilled his hips, reaching his freehand back down between your connected bodies so he could play with your clit at his leisure.

Your body twitched in his arms from the sudden stimulation and that familiar tingling feeling that was blooming deep in the pit of your stomach as your walls clenched tightly around him, squeezing his cock like a vice. “What’s the condition?”

“I get to watch him fuck you. If y’all wanna get acquainted and fool around beforehand, that’s fine with me, but I get to watch him fuck you.” He rasped and in one swift movement, he maneuvered you onto his lap, cock still buried deep inside of you. The kiss was broken briefly so that he could gaze up at you through hooded eyes. “And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll even wanna join in. Jus’ am curious to see how well you take another man’s cock, baby. M’sure Logan is gonna be thrilled.” He grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh with his thick fingers. “The way I see it, It’s a win-win situation for everyone involved.” He let out a sharp breath when you instinctively rolled your hips against his, foreheads pressed tightly together.

“I fucking love you so much, Joel.” You whispered against his lips, carding your fingers through his hair and tugged on the roots gently so his head was tilted back slightly. You could feel his smirk form in the sloppy kiss, and the way he tugged you closer, chests pressed together.

“I love you too, baby. Jus’ wanna see my girl happy s’all. And if fucking the goddamn Wolverine makes you happy, then so be it.”

Logan could hear every squeak from the old mattress, the wooden frame smacking the wall in sync with the heavy weight of Joel’s thrusts, and he could even hear the wet, squelch of your pussy, and skin slapping on skin. The mental images he created in his mind spurred his wrist to move faster, jerking his cock like a horny teenager that had stumbled across the adult magazine section in a grocery store for the first time.

He gnawed on his lower lip till it began to bleed and then healed over immediately after. His lashes fluttered, muscles growing taught and veins bulging the closer he got to cumming in his fist. He bit down on the back of his hand, hard enough to draw blood, and the stinging pain mixed with pleasure sent him right over the edge with stars dotting his vision before he slumped back against the couch, cock spent and growing soft.

“The fucker probably can’t wait to bury his face between your thighs, inhale your scent and eat your sweet pussy like a man starved. Bet it’s been so fuckin’ long for him, that he’ll cream his pants the second he even catches a sliver of your skin.”

“Well, bub, you got one thing right, that’s for damn sure. I can’t wait to bury my face between your girl's thighs and eat her sweet pussy like a man starved.” Logan chuckled to himself, letting out a content sigh as he glanced down at the mess of his release coating his hand, and his happy trail.

He reached over the coffee table for his almost abandoned glass of whiskey and quickly downed the rest before snatching up one of the cigars Joel had so kindly gotten for him and a box of matches. And just as he lit the end of the cigar, and kicked his feet up on the coffee table so he could get more comfortable, his ears were blessed with the high pitched sounds of you orgasming. “Fuck.” He nearly groaned, cock twitching pathetically at the pornographic sound you emitted.

~~

The sun had not even begun to rise in the sky, but there was a chill in the air, a telling sign that fall was on the horizon and the changing of seasons. The early morning light was softer now compared to the summer months, and bathed Joel’s exposed back in a warm, golden glow.

You curled your body around his, hugging him like a koala when he went to untangle his legs from your own. He let out a throaty chuckle, raspy and sticky with prior slumber when you tighten your grip around him.

He blindly reached behind, finding your bare thigh and gave it an affectionate squeeze and gentle pat with his calloused palm. “C’mon, baby.” He rasped, “gotta pee, and then I’m gonna go find Tommy’n get an early start.”

“Stay in bed.”

“S’temptin.’” he mused, rolling over with a soft grunt so he was facing you finally.

“It’s fucking freezing in here, Joel. You’re my personal heater, and I forbid you from leaving.”

“Mmm.” He nuzzled his face against your pulse point, inhaling your familiar scent with a content sigh. “Could always ask Logan to take my place…” He trails off.

“Are you trying to make me soaking wet right now?” You teased.

You could feel him grinning against your skin as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss at the juncture where your jaw met your neck. “Why? Is it working?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You said coyly, finding his hand to slowly drag it between your bare thighs, but he was acting stubborn; the gall he had.

“No can do, my little minx.” He retracted his touch from you all together, finding an opening to slip out of your warm embrace and swung his legs over the side of the bed before pushing himself up. You could hear a faint crack in his lower back the moment he stretched his arms above his head, and he cheekily pivoted his hips to the side just so you could enjoy the little show and dreamily watch the way that his heavy cock swung between his thighs.

Letting out a groan that was nothing short of frustrating, you rolled over onto your stomach, kicking your legs up behind your head languidly with your chin propped in your palms. “Can’t believe you’re gonna choose your brother over me, and my drooling pussy, Joel.” You said with a noticeable pout.

He bent down, grabbing ahold of his discarded shirt from the night before and pulled it over his head and shoulders, obstructing your view of his broad chest and soft, kissable tummy. “You and your droolin’ pussy will live, sweetheart.” He took a few steps towards the bed, leaning down to brush his lips against yours in a sweet peck.

“Actually, I don’t think we will. I think we’re both gonna die a truly excruciating death if you don’t be a man and take care of the mess I’m making in your sheets.” You mumbled against his lips, attempting to deepen the kiss further, but he swiftly pulled back, brows crinkled in amusement as he observed your pout of frustration, and that yearning look glossed over in your eyes before his gaze traveled down the curve of your spine and between your thighs.

He chuckled in amusement when you arch your back and spread your legs further just so he could see how swollen and puffy your pussy looked from this angle, dripping with need, desperate to be played with, to be filled.

“Put your pussy away, you preening slut.” He said teasingly, not meaning it in an overtly degrading way, and simply just a jest; all in good fun.

“Fiiine.” You sighed in defeat, dropping your weight from your elbows and plopped down, face first into his pillow dramatically.

“Poor baby.” He cooed and leaned down, pressing his lips to the side of your head. “I’ll let Logan know that you and your needy little pussy will be waiting for him.”

“Go piss already, old man.” You grumbled into the pillow.

“Goin’ straight for the jugular, huh?” He chuckled and grabbed the end of the sheet, draping it over you gently before he pivoted on his heel and padded over to the attached bathroom.

~~

Logan was still passed out on the couch when Joel crept downstairs, fully dressed now. There was the faint stench of tobacco, musk, and oh—

Joel didn’t mean to look, he truly didn’t—but it was staring him right in the fucking face, and immediately sent a hot, red flush rising up his cheeks and sweat began to pool at the nape of his neck.

Logan stirred in his heavy slumber, one arm propping up behind his head as a makeshift pillow, bicep muscles bulging even in a relaxed state. His freehand slowly drifted southwards, brushing against the protruding vein on his lower abdomen and trailed right down to the soft, dark, enticing hair on his happy trail.

“I’m fuckin’ losin’ it, I swear.” Joel muttered to himself, scraping his own hand down his face before he quickly made a departure for the kitchen.

He was careful to be quiet, as he didn’t want to disturb the other man while he prepared himself a steaming mug of coffee, one of his many guilty pleasures that he never believed he would get to indulge in again.

cue me breaking the 4th wall. I know what you’re all thinking. Gianna, are Joel and Logan going to fuck yet? No, my lovely readers, I’m going to continue to edge you just a little more 🙂‍↕️ (and by a little more I mean you have to wait till chapter three 😔 but don’t worry! The sexual tension is there, and it’s simmering, but first, some angst!

P.S. if you read this in Deadpool’s voice, I fucking love u and we’re gonna make out now.

Okay, that’s all, folks! Back to the gay pining!

The Wolverine began to mumble in his sleep, not just fragmented words, but names—names of those he once knew, those he lost. The nightmares were never-ending, a constant reminder of the past that could never be undone. Even after teaming up with Wade, and saving the world, Logan still would think about the X-Men. That’s the funny thing about trauma, it never actually goes away, you just learn how to mask it as time goes on.

“Howlett?” Joel hesitantly said from the threshold of the kitchen, footsteps padding towards the living room.

Logan shot up from the couch, with an animalistic yell emitting from his throat. His eyes were wide, sweat pooled down his bare chest and his claws unsheathed with that familiar metal swoosh. He blinked a rapidly, registering where he was before he fell back against the couch and retracted his claws as he caught his breath.

“Logan?…Y’alright in there?”

Fuck.

“Jus’ fine, Miller. Sorry for startling you.” Logan muttered, voice raspy with sleep. It dawned upon him then that last night, after he—well, got himself off, he passed out before he had a chance to tuck his cock back into his jeans.

Guy must really fuckin’ think I’m an animal.

“Are ya decent?”

So, he did see? Fuck.

“Jus’ a minute.”

Joel waited till he heard the sound of a zipper being pulled up, and the metallic clink of a belt before he made his presence known, leaning against the opening of the kitchen with two mugs of coffee now.

He observes the other man silently, watching as he slowly sits up, rubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes, taking a deep lungful of air before exhaling.

“You’re shaking.” Joel states the obvious and hesitantly approaches the couch, sitting down against the side of it.

Thanks, captain obvious.” Logan snorts under his breath, fighting the urge to grin at the other man’s obvious hesitation.

“Those things have a mind of their own, huh?” Joel refers to the metal claws that were once protruding out of Logan’s knuckles.

“Somethin’ like that.” He eyes the second mug of coffee before finally meeting Joel’s gaze. “That for me?”

“What? Oh—the coffee.” Joel feels a flush creeping on as he holds the mug of coffee towards Logan almost as a peace offering. “Yeah.”

Logan reaches for the mug, meeting Joel’s hand halfway before taking it from him. Their fingers brush, and he tries to not notice how fast Joel moves to retract his hand.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Joel’s response is unintentionally gruff sounding. He sighs, taking a sip from his own mug.

“Do you have them often?”

The Wolverine raises a brow, confusion etched over his face. “What?”

“The nightmares.” Joel clarifies, “do you have them often?”

“Every night.” Logan said just above a whisper. His eyes cast downwards towards the mug in his hands, an unreadable expression crosses his face.

“Well, we got somethin’ in common after all.”

Logan looks up in surprise, studying the other man for a moment. He wants to ask questions, but he doesn’t want to invade Joel’s privacy or pry where he’s not wanted, let alone welcomed.

“Sun ain’t even up yet, bub. Where ya off to?”

“Patrol with Tommy, once I find him. Wanna get an early start.”

Logan doesn’t even think twice before he starts to swing his legs over the side of the couch to stand up, but he’s stopped in his tracks when he feels a warm, calloused palm press down against his bare chest. The movement shocks both men, and the Wolverine falls into submission, sinking back down against the couch pillows that were already crushed under his weight.

“You’ve done well out there, Howlett. Take the day off, and keep my girl company instead.”

Don’t move your hand, bub. Keep it right there. Is what Logan really wants to say.

“Y’sure, Miller?” He tests the waters for any possible ulterior motive that Joel may have.

Much to Logan’s disappointment, Joel slowly removes his hand from his chest, bringing it down to his side, fingers flexing and then curling into a fist as if he’s in disbelief over what he just did.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Between you and me, there ain’t no hidin’ your attraction to her. And well—seems like she’s takin’ a liking to you as well.” Joel said with a light chuckle, bringing his mug back up to his lips and took a quick sip. “And seeing as you won’t grow a pair and jus’ make a move, I figured I’d give you my permission.”

“I ain’t worthy of her, Joel. That’s your girl. If I’ve overstepped—”

“Yeah?” Joel leaned in, close enough that from this angle, Logan could make out every little detail on the other man’s face. “Guess you don’t wanna hear how she’s upstairs right now, leakin’ all over my goddamn sheets like a bitch in heat, huh?”

“And you want me…to—take care of it?” He chooses his words carefully.

“I know you ain’t all that innocent, Logan. You don’t gotta hide that shit from me. You want her? She’s all yours. But, a word of advice, if I may. Let her come to you. She enjoys the chase more than she likes to be chased. Play coy with her. That one lives for a good fuckin’ game of cat and mouse.”

“And this isn’t a trap? Yeah, of course I want your girl. I’d be a goddamn fool if I didn’t.”

“It ain’t a trap. I’m appeasing to both sides, Logan. My only condition is that you can’t fuck her—not yet, at least. I want to be there to watch. Everything else, however, is on the table, so do with that as you will.” He finished off his coffee and pushed himself off the side of the couch. Before the Wolverine could even respond, he had one last thing to say before he would take his leave.

“Oh, and Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll know if you fucked her without me.”

My panties just disappeared…how did that happen? AND my rose toy just flew into my hand like Thors hammer! Weird…

~~

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[legendary-pink-dot]

Please, Mr Postman

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit

Warnings: Unprotected PiV sex, butt play, creampie, oral (f receiving), and lots of sex toys. No ages mentioned or alluded to. Reader is married. There are themes of infidelity, blackmail and stalking, but Reader is fully consenting and willing. Mailman Joel is a sleaze, consider youself duly warned.

Word Count: 4.3K (by far the longest thing I've ever written, whew)

Summary: Every morning at 9am sharp, you take your coffee to the front room and listen for his mail truck.

Notes: Poking my nose out of my hiatus hidey-hole to write this as a gift for my very very dear friend @magpiepills for the prompt "Stole your mail and uses it to sexually blackmail you mailman Joel". I love you, my sweet Bat. 💜 Giant thanks to @for-a-longlongtime for the last-minute rapid beta read. Much love to my sluts for cheerleading: @youandmeand5bucks @exquisiteserotonin @arcanefox207 @sparklefarts38 @redhotkitchen I have never written Joel before, so please be kind. Thank you and enjoy.

Please, Mr Postman - Joel Miller x f!reader

Every morning at 9am sharp, you take your coffee to the front room and listen for his mail truck. The squeak of the rusted brake pads as he parks at the end of the block is a melody, as distinctive to you now as the chimes of the classic ice cream trucks from your childhood, eliciting a Pavlovian response of salivating over the treats it held within.

Life was easy and carefree at that age. You didn't have responsibilities, grown-up worries, or this present burden of being a Stepford wife to a rich man who occasionally did some illegal activities. He was kind to you and you loved him, desired him even, but despite being a criminal he was boring. He was not the adventurous, filthy man in bed you secretly hoped for. But you knew things about his work that made it dangerous to leave, and financially he made sure you were kept comfortable enough to not want to tell. So you stayed. And here you were, marooned in a leafy suburb, stuck at home all day and fantasizing about the hot new mailman. What a cliche you've become.

The mailman's name was Joel. And he really did command attention.

Salt and pepper hair that curled around the edge of his blue cap. Dark brown eyes that showed a few flecks of amber the rare times you've seen them up close. A strong nose with a neatly trimmed mustache and gorgeous facial scruff. Large hands that could football-hold an entire package in each.

And speaking of packages: his looked prodigious. It looked obscene what he was carrying around in those standard issue United States Postal Service shorts. You dreamed about it at night -- how thick his cock must be and how you'd lick it like those sweet summer popsicle treats -- as your husband snored beside you after giving you one pitiful orgasm and then immediately coming himself and falling asleep.

You never thought anyone could be attractive in such a dumpy grey uniform, but somehow Joel found a way.

In the summer heat he always rolled up the edges of his pleated shorts, a thick pocket chain clacking along his meaty thigh. Light hair dusted his tanned legs. His black leather belt was cinched tight, further emphasizing his delicious bulge. The sleeves of his polo shirt were similarly rolled and showed off well-toned forearms from all the lifting and carrying. In short: he was a dream.

But you'd never go further than look. You loved your husband, for all his faults. You'd even placed a big order of sex toys last week in the hopes he'd be willing to spice things up in the bedroom. The tracking app says it's out for delivery, and right on cue, Joel comes walking up your driveway cradling a large cardboard box in his hands. Damn, he looks good today.

"Mornin', ma'am," he drawls politely. You think he winks at you, or maybe it's just the sun hitting his eyes. "Got a big one for you today."

You move to take it, but he shakes his head. "It's heavy. Let me put it inside for ya."

The thought of him being inside your home makes you tingle. You don't even think to consider that postal workers aren't supposed to go past a customer's front step.

You hold the door open and Joel stomps through, leaving bootprints of dirt on your "Home Sweet Home" welcome mat.

"Ma'am? Where d'ya want it?" He sounds amused, and you realize with a start that he's been standing in your entranceway for an awkward length of time. You'd been too busy ogling his legs, and more, in those rolled-up shorts. Was it your imagination, or was he not wearing underwear?

"On the coffee table, please." You lead him to the sitting room beside the entranceway. It's your happy place, your sanctuary, the spot you have your morning coffee in as you listen for the siren song of his mail truck.

Joel gently places the box on the coffee table and turns to you.

"I'll just wait here while you check that everythin's in order."

"What… what do you mean?" You feel your cheeks heat. Fortunately the box was nondescript, but it did give off a brown paper wrapping porn vibe.

"It's insured for $700. Must be some expensive stuff. 'S my job to write a report if anything's broken."

Nervous sweat starts beading down your back. "It… it's okay… I can report online if there's a problem…"

"'S no trouble. Let's just take a quick peek." Joel's already pulled his keychain ceramic boxknife out of his shorts, slitting the box open before you can say a word.

You stand there mortified and unable to speak as Joel opens the flaps, pushes aside the cushioning packets, and stares at the huge assortment of boxed sex toys.

"Well, well, darlin'. What do we have here?" His voice is a mixture of amusement and something deep and growling. Predatory.

Your face burns in embarrassment. "You… you can go now," you manage to squeak. "Please."

"Don't think so, sweetheart. Gotta check that everythin's in good working order." His boxknife shicks open the first product, a G-spot vibe from the looks of the box. Just before he can unwrap it, you find your voice. You hope you sound self-assured and assertive.

"That's enough. Please leave. My husband will be home any minute."

Joel smirks as he continues to rifle through the box. "Naw. He won't. Just did my route on Pine Street and saw him gettin' busy with that blonde divorcee in the cul-de-sac. Miz Perkins, wasn't it? Big tits."

It's a gut punch, and it makes you forget that this suddenly skeezy mailman is in your home and looking at your new collection of sex toys. An affair? He wouldn't. Not YOUR husband. Not your husband who rarely wants to do anything interesting in bed…

"Sorry, darlin." Joel pulls you out of your thoughts. "Fuck that guy. Wanna have some fun?" He pulls the vibe out of the box and waves it in front of you with a lopsided smirk.

This is too much to deal with. Your head is spinning, a mixture of emotions running through you. Including lust, incredibly enough. This mailman appears to be the take-charge dominant you wish your husband was.

"No. Like I said, you can leave now." You manage to say it firmer this time despite the gushing between your thighs. "Just go."

"Think I'll stay," he says, crossing the space between you in one step and pushing you backwards onto the sofa. "Don't want me reporting your ol' man to the authorities, now do ya?"

"Wha… what?"

He chuckles at your comically large-eyed look of shock. "Yeah, know all about it. Been readin' yer mail," he says matter-of-factly. "He's shit at covering his tracks. Who sends fake invoices through the mail? With his real address too. Amazin' he hasn't been caught yet."

"You've been reading our mail?! I should report you!" Who is this guy?

Joel looms menacingly over your prone figure. You didn't dare move. "Sure, darlin. Postal employees got a responsibility to report crime. I'll be fine," he smiles, leaning back a little, but not enough for you to escape. "But the Postmaster General don't take too kindly to mail fraud, or those aidin' and abettin'. That's a felony."

"But it's not a felony for a mailman to read people's mail?"

"Tell you what," he drawls, still in that matter-of-fact tone that should be so very wrong in this situation. He rifles through the box and pulls out a hot pink butt plug, wiggling it at you. "You're gonna let me try out some of these toys on ya, and I won't report him."

Blackmail shouldn't turn you on, shouldn't turn anyone on, but it does. You're only human, and besides, you definitely don't want to go to prison. You can't control your reaction as your upper half shrinks back into the sofa while your lower half stretches out towards Joel, the hem of your sundress hiking up like it has a mind of its own. He gives you a wolfish grin and rests a broad, heavy hand on your knee.

"Jus' what I thought, sweetheart. Seen you watchin' me out the window every mornin'. You been wantin' me to stuff your pretty little mailslot, haven't ya?"

A whimper escapes your throat. "Yes. Please," you whisper, thighs sticky between your panties and suddenly aching.

"Okay, honey. Gonna start easy with this lil' thing." He holds up a clit sucker, shaped like a penguin with a little pink bow around its neck, and switches it on to test it. It springs into life immediately. "Ah, great. Love how companies pre-charge things now-a-days."

How can he be so conversational about this? Does he blackmail all the married women in the neighbourhood? Well, maybe just the ones who have something to hide. Like you. You silently thank the heavens for sending you an attractive skeeze, at least. And Joel is so very, very attractive.

You spread your legs for him.

He ruches your sundress up your thighs and whistles appreciatively, the sound going straight to your core. "No panties? And gushin' out of that tight little snatch already? Didn't take ya for such a filthy girl."

"It's… it's hot out," you stammer, unable to think straight.

"About to get hotter," he smirks again, and damn that attitude is doing things for you. "You ready, sweetheart?"

You nod, and he keeps eye contact as he nestles your clit into the little penguin's mouth and switches it on.

Your back arches and you nearly scream out loud.

The sensation is warm, and there's no direct contact but it's like your clit is being gently suckled. You've never felt anything like it. It's only been three seconds and your hips are already squirming to chase more.

His hand presses lightly on your hip to give you something to brace against as he clicks the intensity button up a couple notches, and it's like waves upon waves of the absolute perfect pressure on your clit. The buildup in your core is so fast that you don't even realize you're coming until it's almost over. You also hadn't noticed that you'd grabbed his muscled forearm and sunk your nails into it, leaving little half-moon indentations in his tanned skin.

"That was… wow." Your gasps echo around the quiet sitting room. Joel doesn't say a word, just reverently watches your pussy pulse and gush out a few drops of slick. "Thanks." You wish it had lasted longer and were sad it was over. Oh well, a nice memory for the next time you think about Joel, or try out some of these toys with your husband.

You start to push your sundress down, assuming he'll leave now and half-grateful for it, but he grabs your shoulder and forces you back down into the pillows.

"Where you off to? I'm just gettin' started with you, darlin'."

"But…."

"But nothin'. Ain't done till I say so."

All you can do is stare at him, unsure if you should be angry, turned on, or plotting an escape.

He undoes his leather belt and slowly, threateningly, slides it out through the loops on his uniform shorts. "Don't make me use this, sweetheart. Gonna be a good girl for me now, ain't ya?" The depth and tone of his voice say he isn't joking.

You gulp, still tingly from your rapid orgasm. And ready for another one, you think as you make eye contact with Joel, feeling a bit bolder now. We're here, I let him do that much already, might as well go for it.…

The penguin gets discarded as Joel carelessly tosses it to the carpet and takes the hot pink butt plug out of the box again, running a finger along the curve of its long but slim length. "Hmmm. Pretty. This for you, or your husband?"

"Uh… me…"

"Ah, ah" he tuts. "You really are a nasty girl. You take one of these before?"

You shake your head, suddenly shy. You hadn't even wanted your husband to know about the butt plug, thinking he was so sexless that he'd be disgusted. Apparently not, if he's railing Ms Perkins with the big tits over on Pine Street.

"S'okay. Gonna slide it in real good for ya." While you shove a little sofa pillow under your hips, Joel combs through the box on the coffee table and pulls out a bottle of lube. He pops the cap and drizzles some over the plug, and you gulp again imagining it inside your ass. A faint scent of synthetic vanilla fills the air and for some reason it calms you, allowing you to relax your muscles as Joel slides the plug along your crack, rubbing and smearing the lube around your asshole.

"You like that?"

You do. You really do.

Your little moan spurs him on and he gently presses the generously lubed tip of the plug against your hole, just the teensiest bit. You look up at his face, that stupidly attractive face of a skeezy mailman who is sexually blackmailing you, and find yourself desperately wanting to feel his scruff on your inner thighs.

Apparently he's a mind reader, too. He smiles and lowers his head to your crotch, and licks your clit with his wide tongue at the same moment he presses a bit more of the plug into your ass. You nearly scream for the second time in minutes.

"That's it, honey," he breathes against your core, wiggling the tip of the plug in and out and hitting nerves you didn't even know existed back there, making your hips jump involuntarily. "Openin' up so nice for me."

A few more mind-numbing, distracting licks of your clit and the plug slides all the way in with a little pop. You're equal parts turned on and proud.

"Well, ain't that a pretty sight," Joel whistles appreciatively. He pulls up to sit back and just stares at you all spread out on the sofa with one leg hiked over the back, your sundress balled up over your stomach. He taps the pink flared base of the plug a few times like he's idly flicking away a cigarette. It wiggles inside you and you squirm and squeal. Actually squeal. You're still mad and weirded out and other things, but you're feeling too good to give up now and you're starting to not care how easily you're caving to this man.

"Lessee what other treats we got in here." He rifles through the box again. His face falls into a comical droop of sadness and he sighs loudly, holding up a little box marked 'Girth Extender Sleeve'.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm so sorry." The condescension in his voice shouldn't turn you on this much. "Yer old man got a tiny dick? Not fuckin' you proper? No wonder you been starin' at me every day, desperate for a real man."

Before you can protest -- he's not tiny, I just wanted to spice things up, well okay maybe he could use a bit of help -- he unzips his uniform shorts and pulls out his hard cock, holding it at the base so you can take a good look. "Got a special delivery for ya, baby."

Yeah, Joel definitely doesn't need any artificial enhancement.

His cock is thick. Not super long, but probably one of the thickest you've seen, outside the few porn films you watched when you were younger and more uninhibited. There's foreskin covering what looks like a large mushroom head, and a prominent pulsing vein running up one side. It all looks delicious, and you unconsciously lick your lips as he smirks at how you take it all in.

"You want it real bad, dontcha?" He fists himself a few times, his foreskin sliding on the downstroke to give you a peek at the thick head. "Yeah, you sure do. Never knew I had such a little slut livin' on my route."

Shuffling forward, he grabs your thighs and spreads them wider. The head of his cock feels impossibly heavy as he slaps it on your clit, making you gush a little with every hit.

"Joel, will you… can you lick me again for a bit?" Your squeaky voice is impossibly needy and pathetic.

"Naw," he says, flicking the base of the butt plug again and making your hips jump. The plug was so comfortable that you'd already forgotten it was in there. "Gotta finish my route. Can't talk to customers with my face smellin' of pussy, ya know. I'm representin' the United States Postal Service out there."

"Oh, does the USPS regularly fuck its customers too?"

"Sure does, darlin'. Bends 'em over and gives it to 'em hard with the price hikes every year."

He roughly pulls you up and bends you over the sofa arm, positioning you like the personal little fuckdoll you are for him.

"Got the next best thing though." He slips on a tiny purple fingertip vibe, your free gift from the toy company for such a large order. With such thick fingers, it looks like he's wearing an upside-down Ring Pop. It gives a loud rumble when he switches it on, and he laughs as he tugs his shorts down over his thighs. "Cheap ass shit. Hope the battery lasts. But it don't take you long anyway, right sweetheart?" He reaches around your hips, lifts your sundress and presses the vibe straight on your bare clit without any preamble, and your hips slam backwards into his crotch as you scream again, his cock jostling the base of the butt plug and sending shockwaves both up and down your core at the same time.

"Yeah. Thought so."

Amid the mixed sensations suddenly comes a new one: the thick head of his cock slipping into your cunt as he swirls the vibe around your clit, not letting it rest in any one spot long enough for your liking.

"… Wait! No condom?"

"Naw. You're on the pill, right?" He doesn't wait for your answer, as if he already knows.

Normally you don't enjoy this position but you're too far gone now, pushing your hips back and encouraging him deeper in, more than wet enough from all the playing to take him in.

"Greedy little slut, ain't ya?" He feeds you another inch, pauses, then another, torturously slow as you stretch around his thickness. "Tight little snatch feels so good. Miz Perkins with the big tits probably don't feel this sweet." Joel demeaning your husband like this and throwing the adultery in your face should make you mad -- at both of them -- but it only turns you on more, beads of sweat dripping down your spine as he slides all the way in to the hilt, giving you a few moments of grace to adjust to the size of him.

One strap falls down your shoulder, letting your tit pop out of your sundress and he palms it roughly, giving it an exploratory squeeze. The finger vibe is still buzzing and he swipes it across your nipple, the nubby texture chafing just before the point of pain. "Nice. You like that? Let's add somethin'."

Mentholated 'arousal balm' was another of your free gifts, and not something you'd ever thought to try. Joel twists open the little tin and dips the finger vibe in it.

"That smells strong, do we have to?" Wooziness hits you as the peppermint smell goes straight up your nostrils.

"Like I said, baby, gotta make sure everythin' works. Else I gotta do a return," chides Joel, tossing the tiny tin on the floor. You watch it roll under the baseboard heater as he grabs your hips roughly and repositions you. "Real fucking pain, returns. Lotsa paperwork."

He brings the now-mentholated finger vibe back to your clit, and two seconds later it feels like your entire pussy is on fire.

Thank goodness he didn't put any on my a--

Joel moves the base of the butt plug aside and presses the finger vibe against your asshole.

The menthol soaks into your tender membranes and it's so, so cold and hot at the same time. Your brain melts along with it.

Everything is lit up now and you squirm as he slides his hardness back into your pussy and gives a few experimental thrusts. "Tight fuckin' snatch," he mutters, your walls clenching around him in time with his finger flicking at the plug, your entire lower half burning but not in a terrible way. "But could be tighter." He suddenly pulls his cock out and you whine, loudly and needily.

"Please, Joel."

"Please what, darlin'?"

"Put… put it back in? Please."

"All in good time. Gotta give those walls an extra little stamp."

You look over your shoulder to see him drizzling lube into the girth sleeve and slipping it onto his cock. He's already so thick that it's a tight fit, the soft tube slipping off a couple times before he finally stretches it enough so it can slide all the way on, pulling it down so his large head pokes out of the top. You clench involuntarily.

"Umm. That's not gonna fit."

"Sure it will, honey," he drawls. "Didn't think you could take that pretty little pink plug, right? And look at ya now."

He's got a point.

"Gonna stuff that little slot full to the brim and turn ya into a size queen. Open wide, baby."

He's merciless as he slides back inside, at a curved angle since you're turned slightly to brace both your hands against the back of the sofa. The extender is smooth and feels just like his skin, and you're powerless to resist the incredible feeling of the extra width. He was exactly right: you felt full. With the thick pressure in your cunt pushing against the plug in your ass, you felt more stuffed than you ever had in your life, and what's more your pussy is still burning from the menthol balm. It was overwhelming but also glorious. In that second you knew it would be impossible not to think of Joel next time your husband fucked you, even if he wore this toy. Stupid sexy blackmailing mailman.

Baby animals had more stability in their legs than you do right now, your thighs spasming uncontrollably as Joel palms the vibe around your clit while holding almost half your waist in the span of his other large paw. He fucks into you hard from behind until you're so close to coming you can taste it. With the extender, his cock is hitting spots inside you that you didn't even know you had. A heavy chain pops out of the neck of his polo shirt and hits your nape with a loud clank as he slams into you from behind, the cheap poly-rayon blend of his polo shirt chafing your shoulders in a delicious burn as his chest presses close against your back and his hips smack against your ass, jostling the butt plug with every thrust.

whirrrrrr goes the finger vibe as the tiny cheap battery dies, and he slaps your clit hard with the vibe one, two, three times and you come, yelling for the nth time since he left his bootprints on your welcome mat that morning. His grunts are loud and lewd as he fucks you through it, easing up only to make his thrusts shallower so he can reach a hand between you and gently pull out the butt plug with a little 'pop'. He tosses it and the finger vibe onto your pristine off-white carpet, not even bothering to aim for the opened box on the coffee table.

"So fuckin' tight," he wheezes hoarsely, "I gotta extra big load for ya," and he presses his hips so hard against your ass that you almost fall over the sofa arm, his voice faltering as he groans and you feel hot spurts of his come coating the inside of your pussy, as deep as he can put it.

You slump forward onto the sofa and he pulls out, both of you heaving. The fiery balm has mellowed to a gentle tingle and your core is pleasantly warm. Stretched out. Fucked out.

"Welp, gotta get back to my route." It's been only a minute and his matter-of-fact conversational tone has already returned. You peer over your shoulder and watch him pull his shorts back on, rolling up the hems and slicking his belt back into the loops, tucking his polo shirt back in with practiced efficiency.

"Will I see you again?" You hate how pathetic you sound, and you must be a real sight too, half naked with a sweaty rolled-up sundress stuck to your back, your ass still up in the air like you're waiting for him to stick it right back in and rail you again immediately.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll be seein' each other again real soon," he says smoothly.

As you stand up, knees a little weak, a drop of cum drips down your thighs. "Glad I'm on the pill," you mutter to yourself as you pat down your wrinkled sundress and pause at the mess of packaging and boxes littering your sitting room.

"About that, darlin'." Joel smiles, pausing by your front door. "Miz Perkins over on Pine Street orders sugar pills and well, you know, packages get mixed up sometimes on the route. Might wanna check you got the right pills."

Joel slams the door and the mail slot squeaks rhythmically as you stand there, horrified, listening to him whistle a jaunty tune as he walks down your driveway and back to his mail route.

[cheriladycl01]

hiya could you maybe write a Fernando x Reader one shot, where something happens between the two of them they get into a fight and Fernando gives the reader the silent treatment refuses to talk to them. Goes on for a few days and finally the reader cracks and is really upset and cries in front of Nando reader thinks he doesn’t love her anymore etc.. and they make up in the end.. as much as I want it angsty I do love the fluff in the end

The Silent Treatment - Fernando x Reader

Plot: You and Fernando get into a rare fight. It’s a big one though and you say something you didn’t really mean making Fernando give you the pouty silent treatment …

You and Fernando were like salt and pepper and butter and bread. You rarely argued and always got alone, if you did argue you both had effortless communication skills meaning that whatever happened was resolved pretty quickly.

But after a not so good race weekend for Fernando that you couldn't attend because you were halfway across the world singing for a collab bran deal you were doing and a stressful weekend for you creating content for this brand deal you were exhausted when you got him straight from the plane Monday night.

"Hey" you smile tiredly at Fernando who is sat on the sofa. You're so sleepy you don't even notice his sour look.

"What is this?" he demands looking around the house and you look over to him confused at his raised voice.

"What?" you ask and he gestures to the house, you look around and you could tell it was a little disorganized and messy than it usually was but not dirty or unclean.

"Sorry honey, but we've both been extremely busy this weekend! I left only a few hours after you. You came back before me" you giggle thinking he wasn't actually mad, but the minute he stood up starting to do everything himself in an overly aggressive way had you at a stand still. Like a deer caught in headlights. He'd never acted like this before. It must have been a really bad weekend.

"Baby, why don't you sit down. We're both tired and I can just do it tomorrow while you are on the sim!" you exclaim coming closer to him to try and pull his arm away from the clothes hamper he was currently putting stuff into.

"God, why wasn't any of this done before you left?" he asks with almost a glare and you are in shock.

You and Fernando never expected anything from one another, whether it was Sex, Chores, Help... nothing was expected at all. So why was he demanding this should have been done by you before you left.

"I guess I was just busy" you explain.

"Busy more like lazy" he mutters, which was true sometimes you did have a tendency to have home days off where you didn't do any chores or shopping and would just laze about, but every needed those kind of days... right?

"Alright says Mr Crash on turn 1, maybe you should be focusing more on racing than bothering me about stupid little things and you might actually win again!" you say in the heat of the moment.

You regret it almost straight away blubbering after trying to back track what you said but it had already all come out.

"Nando, I- I didn't mean that I'm so so sorry!" you exclaim, but he just walks off going into the spare bedroom shutting and locking the door behind him.

Tears fill your eyes as what you said really settles in. You start to make dinner for the both of you with scraps from the cupboards and whatever was in-date in the fridge. It ended up just a simple pasta and home made garlic bread.

"Nando?" you knock on the door to the guest bedroom hoping he might come out for some food. When he doesn't after a few minutes you sigh going back to the kitchen. You wrap up his food with some clingfilm, leaving it out on the plate to cool down while you go round the house doing all the bits that hadn't been done while you and Fernando hadn't been here.

They were just little bits, like the clothes and drying up and putting the blankets from the sofa away in their basket, hoovering and dusting the stairs. Small little jobs that weren't taking you long.

The more you thought about it, the worse you felt. You could have just done these jobs before you left it wouldn't have been difficult and it wouldn't have taken much time. You were just very stressed over the brand deal.

You went to bed feeling incredibly guilty. You tossed and turned the whole night not being able to sleep with your husband not cuddled up in the bed with you.

You woke up the next day, going straight to the shower trying to wash away all your emotions from the previous night ready to start on a clean slate with Fernando.

However, what you didn't expect was Fernando to be waiting outside the ensuite for you.

"Buenos Dias!" you smile at him, but he just brushes past you, ignoring your morning greeting to him.

And that's how it went for the rest of the day. He would just leave the house without saying anything, coming back sweaty and with his trainer. He would refuse to eat the food and drinks you made for him, making you have to double up whatever you made for lunch as your dinner so the food didn't go to waste.

You tried at ever opportune moment to try and talk to him but he kept on ignoring you. It was stressing you out, all of this silent treatment. Was he really being this petty.

But once it got to day 3 you'd had enough. You were practically pulling your hair out at the fact the he had said nothing. You were doubting yourself wondering if you were really that horrible of a person and that Fernando no longer loved you.

You were laying in bed when he came home, sobbing into the pillow that still faintly smelt like him despite him not having been in the bed for the last few days.

Fernando was shocked to not see you, for the last few days you'd practically been running yourself raw trying to get himself to talk whilst cleaning then house. You'd even cancelled a few job opportunities that had come your way, feeling as though even more distance between the pair of you would be awful.

Now Fernando was the one to feel bad, he knew he was being petty by not talking to you, and he agreed with himself that he over-reacted when it came to your arrival home. But at the same time what you said to him, really really fucking hurt.

He knocked on the door and your sobs turned into small hiccups as you attempted to calm your breathing down.

"Yeah?" you ask, but it sounds a little chocked up to Fernando who feels just awful.

"Mi Amore!" he says as he pushes open the door a little. You fully sit up on the bed, red puffy eyes and tear stains down your cheeks making him sigh.

He didn't mean to make you this upset.

"I'm sorry Nando, I really didn't mean it I just was so confused why you were so angry with me and then you called me lazy which I know i can be but you've never said it as more than a joke and ..." you ramble until he comes forward pulling you into a sweet and short kiss.

"I'm the one that should be sorry, I didn't mean to call you lazy. I was just exhausted after an awful weekend and it didn't help that you were absent for it... i just felt useless" he explains and you nod.

"Please can we go back to talking things out? I don't like it when you freeze me out! It feels awful. I thought ... you didn't love me anymore and were looking into a divorce" you almost whimper at the thought of Fernando cutting ties with you in such a legal fashion. You genuinely thought that would break your heart.

"I'd never leave you mi amore! You are without a doubt the best thing in my life!" he exclaims pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head.

"I love you so so much! I'll talk to you next time okay? I promise" he sighs kissing all over your face, knowing you'd both be working overtime for the next few weeks, apologizing to one another.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #8

CH8. Boiling Point | The Menu [3.7K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

You wished the diner was busier. 

You would’ve done anything for more customers to serve. Anything. But Jim’s was quiet, only a few regulars scattered around the tables, only wanting coffees, no refills, scowling if you came too close, blocking the sunlight that fell onto their newspapers. 

Robin and Steve were by the bar, throwing a crumpled napkin between them like a baseball, talking softly about nothing important and you felt too hot as you stood polishing the cutlery, shoving napkins into dispensers with clumsy hands. You could see Eddie through the kitchen hatch, prepping the burger buns for the dinner rush that you hoped would come. His eyes were trying to find yours as he rolled out the dough but you were avoidant, moving around each empty table with your head ducked. 

Eventually, the rolling in your stomach became too much and the sight of Chrissy loitering in the kitchen was making that hot flush creep higher up your neck, across the back of your ears. You slammed a pile of menus down on the coffee bar, ignoring the way Mr Creel grumbled at you, looking at Steve and Robin as if they’d be able to fix the way you were feeling. 

“Did Eddie and Chrissy used to date?” You came right out with it, voice rushed and quiet, speaking low in hopes that your question wouldn’t carry into the kitchen. 

The radio was on, a female voice crooning from the speakers and you hated the way Chrissy was swaying to the beat, powder blue uniform skimming the tops of her thighs as she stood too near Eddie, refilling the salt and pepper shakers. 

“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want, cry if I want to, cry if I want to. You would cry too, if it happened to you…”

“Chrissy?” Robin wrinkled her nose and looked into the kitchen, too obvious. You tugged at her arm, pleading. “Don’t look.”

Steve snorted, hopping off of the bar to block lean over it instead, knocking his knuckles against yours. “Nah. I mean, I don’t think so?” He squinted at you before he shared a look with Robin and the girl shrugged, confused. “Chrissy just likes to flirt. With like, everyone. Her and Eddie were friendly, I guess?”

“Friendly,” you repeated, swallowing the word with the lump in your throat. 

“It’s not, it’s not like that,” Steve murmured softly. His eyes were searching yours, watching the way they turned glassy. “It’s not like it is with you, trust us, you don’t have to worry about that, okay?”

Robin nodded, reaching out to hold your hand. She squeezed your fingers and smiled. “Yeah, you seriously don’t have to panic. Eddie doesn’t worry about our eating habits,” she grinned when you rolled your eyes. “And can we talk about that hickey yet? ‘Cause, shit…”

You groaned, cheeks warm but your friends had succeeded in quelling the ache in your chest, if only just. You felt like the new kid again with Chrissy around, watching her sit on the stool - your stool - at Eddie’s station, laughing at a joke you couldn’t hear, pocketing tips from the truckers who came in for coffee and cake, asking her how her summer was, if she was still working seasons at the camp a few towns over. 

Chrissy was confident and bright, a bubblegum pink smile and rosy cheeks, a pretty, bouncy thing that made you feel two inches tall and every time you caught her near Eddie, your heart sank a little. She touched him a lot, a delicate hand on his arm, shoving at his shoulder when he made her laugh, brushing a crumb off the lapel of his chef whites after he whisked up a new batter. 

You stayed away from the kitchen, only taking orders that Jonathan handed you from across the hatch and you could see the way Eddie’s brows knitted together every time you turned your back on him but the jealousy was too overwhelming. The uncertainty, the self conscious ache that made your neck feel too hot and you knew you were being ridiculous. 

You did. You knew. 

But it was too soon to be marking your territory and scaring away the boy with questions like, ‘what are we? Have you kissed her? Have you kissed her like you kissed me? Are we more than friends now? Are we more than what you have with her?

“Chicago,” Jonathan’s voice interrupted your pity party. He was pouring a coffee for Mr Creel, the man’s seventh refill of the afternoon. “Chef’s asking for you.”

Your stomach flipped and you grimaced, trying to pull off the expression as a smile. You weren’t sure it worked. You held up the cloth you’d been walking around with for an hour to look preoccupied, shrugging half heartedly. “Busy,” you told the boy. 

“He said he’s made you lunch,” was all Jonathan replied. 

So you sighed and tried not to let his words tug on your heartstrings too much. You smiled and gave in, throwing the cloth onto the workstation by the kitchen door and you didn’t even bother announcing your arrival when the diner was so quiet. Eddie looked up the second you appeared, eyes wide and he was just finishing plating up a stack of pancakes, a bundle of chopped strawberries in a bowl beside them. 

“Hey,” he breathed, wiping his hands on his apron. “Hey. You okay? I’ve not seen you all shift.”

The kitchen was empty, no sign of Chrissy. The stoves were off and only one grill was still sizzling, leftover pancake batter crisping in the corners as it cooled down, a simmer in the quiet. You smiled weakly, unable to stop the wobble in your lip.

Cry baby, cry baby, cry baby. 

You coughed, clearing your throat until the lump there disappeared and you nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Sorry, it’s, uh,” you winced as you gesture back to the empty diner. Steve was sleeping in one of the booths, his head against the window. “It’s been… busy.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, a frown on his face. It was soft, concerned. “Sit, yeah? Have lunch with me?”

You took a step forward, aching to walk to the boy, to let yourself push your face to his chest and let him smooth his hands over your hair. You got to spend the night into the early morning with him, draped over his lap as you shared triangles of grilled cheese and then kisses after it but you missed the way he felt already. 

Then the fire exit door opened and Chrissy sauntered back in, cooing at the sight of the pancakes on the worktop. Eyes wide, she skipped over, ponytail bouncing like something out of a damn daydream and you didn’t know what to say when she picked up the fork Eddie had laid out for you and speared it through the stack. Her lips were sticky with gloss and maple syrup as she licked them, moaning sweetly as she looked at Eddie.  

“Oh my god, Eds,” Chrissy sounded pornographic. “I missed your cooking so much, you know that?” She turned to you, grinning. Oblivious - maybe. “Does this cutie pie cook you up some food too? I swear, I used to get three meals a day when I worked here full time. Oh my god— Eddie! Remember the triple stacked pizza—?”

You didn’t hear the rest of the story. You really didn’t care to. And as rude as it may have seemed, you walked right past Chrissy and Eddie and the pancakes that were no longer yours. You could feel the tears burning the corner of your eyes and it made your nose itch, your cheeks burn. You weren’t doing this where people could see. 

The door to the walk-in was heavy but you yanked it hard, breath catching in your throat like a hiccup and you were quick to close it behind you, the thud making the shelves inside rattle but it was suddenly quiet as it was cold. The heat of embarrassment faded, the burn crawling up the back of your spine disappeared and you sniffed, gazing up at the ceiling as if that would quell your tears. You stared at the patches of ice, focusing on the goosebumps rising across your bare arms instead. 

It was silly, you thought, to feel such a way. To let someone make you feel that way. But beside Chrissy and her perfectly curled ponytail and her pretty Mary Jane sandals, you felt small. Unimportant. Like you suddenly didn’t belong in the stupid diner with its stupid chequered tables and its broken soda machine. Chrissy hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. It was mean of you to dislike her, with nothing more than a name and her connection to Eddie to fuel your jealousy. 

Feeling petulant, you decided that was enough. You swore, mostly at yourself, and pressed the heels of your palms to your watery eyes. You felt replaced and it was an awful, ugly feeling. As much as you tried to remember what Robin and Steve had told you earlier, you couldn’t get over the way Chrissy looked at Eddie, like she really knew him, like she had some sort of claim on him. It was a very female thing to pick up on, only seeing the subtle signs through the eyes of being a girl. 

The glances, the quick up and down she gave you as you arrived that morning, weighing up the chances of you being competition. The touches on Eddie’s arm, the territorial way she barely left his station, the too sweet smile she gave you as she ate the lunch Eddie made for you. The chit chat that seemed pleasant enough, the not so hidden reminders in her stories that she knew Eddie for longer than you had, better than you did. They had inside jokes, old memories, shared stories. 

There was a knock at the door. 

An odd thing to hear, on the other side of a walk in refrigerator, but you knew there was only one person it could’ve been. So you sniffed again and swiped meanly at your eyes, leaning against the door, ignoring the chill, the way your cheeks were both hot and cold at the same time. 

“I’ll be out in a second,” you called through the steel. “I’m just… trying to find some—” your mind blanked as you looked around the space aimlessly, eyes landing on crates of vegetables. “—some asparagus.”

You made a face, annoyed with yourself for such a lame excuse and you heard a shuffle from outside before a familiar voice came through. “Sweetheart? Can I come in?” Eddie sounded muffled, mainly from the inches of steel and insulation between you but you could still pick up on the concern in his voice. 

You sighed, bottom lip wobbling and you opened the door, the brief wash of warm air hitting your cold face. The fridge didn’t lock. Eddie could’ve bathed in whenever he liked. But there was something about the way he’d asked you that had you giving in easier than you thought you would. You stepped back, arms goosepimpled and crossed over your chest as you made room for the boy inside the walk in. Back against the metal racking, your hip bumped against a pallet of butter, boxes of it stacked high. You didn’t look at Eddie not yet. 

“Why’re you crying?” Eddie asked gently, ducking down and bending slightly at the knees so he could look at your face, so he could try and coax you into meeting his gaze. It was a soft question, not anywhere near an accusation and he said it so sincerely, like he really wanted to know what was upsetting you. 

All you heard was crybabycrybabycrybaby. So you turned your chin and hid your face in your hair, letting the strands stick to your wet cheeks and you swiped at your eyes again, too harsh for Eddie’s liking. Your breath left you in a hiccup, a holding thing that made the boy’s brows pinch together. 

“Hey, hey,” Eddie reached out and curled a hand around your wrist, wide and still warmer than your own skin. “Hey, c’mon, c’mere.” The boy pulled you in closer, hands coasting over the apples of your cheeks, tutting softly as he wiped the way the tears there. 

You cringed, embarrassed at being caught in such a state but Eddie pushed his thumb into your cheek until you let him lift your face and your gaze met his. He frowned, eyes big and earnest and he made a noise that was meant to soothe. You couldn’t help but lean into his palm, eyes watering again and you moved away, stumbling over your words, not sure if you should be apologising first or asking the questions you didn’t wanna know the answer to. 

“God, I’m sorry,” you scrunched your face, mortified. “I’m— I don’t know why I’m getting myself like this, m’tired or something.” Before Eddie could respond you pulled back to stare at him, cheeks hot. “Is Chrissy like… did you and Chrissy— are you—?”

Eddie blinked at you, surprised. “I—”

You regretted it immediately, the accusatory way you asked such a personal question. It had been two months, one date, one kiss. You felt so stupid. “I have absolutely no right to ask you that,” you rushed out, eyes wide. Fuck, you felt worse than before. “I’m sorry, that’s— that's none of my business.”

“Sweetheart, you spent the majority of last night with my tongue in your mouth,” Eddie tried to joke, smiling weakly. “I think you’re allowed to ask that question.”

You looked at him, mournful, the lump still stuck in your throat and an awful feeling of unease clinging to you. You shrugged, a little hopeless. “Were you guys like.. a thing? Are you a thing?”

“No,” Eddie answered, soft and sure. “We’re not. We’ve never been— not like that. Chrissy…” Eddie swallowed and pulled at his apron, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Chrissy just likes to be the centre of attention. And well, I guess you could say, uh, I used to have a crush on her?”

Eddie noticed the way your shoulders tensed. “But that was way, way back in high school. Nothin’ happened. Ever. And— and I don’t want anything to happen now.” Eddie grinned, wry, awkward. “She just likes to make sure she’s got everyone’s attention, y’know?”

You did know. 

“You used to make her food too,” you noted sourly and you hated the way your voice came out small, delicate. Moody. “She said she was your favourite.”

“Babe,” Eddie said a little gruffly, fondly. He reached back out, hand catching yours and you let him. He played with your fingers, the ring on your middle one, his touch delicate and comforting. “I’m a cook. I make food for everyone, they just— they just gotta ask me.”

Well, didn’t you feel silly. So you bit a little, heat rising up then back of your neck again, embarrassment tingling, your voice rising. “I don’t know! It could’ve all been part of your— your moves, or something.”

“Moves?” Eddie choked out, incredulous. “Sweetheart, it took me two months to kiss you, you think I’ve got moves?”

You squirmed, embarrassed still. You shrugged, unsure what to say because in your eyes, Eddie had all the moves. You could still remember the way he kissed you, the feel of his hand on your jaw, your waist, in your hair, on your thigh. The way he kissed you between making you your grilled cheese, the bread almost burning as he got too caught up in you, in the way he pressed you back into the counter, dotting kisses over your cheeks, your nose. 

“I don’t know,” you said again and you ducked your chin, hiding.

Eddie tsked but it was a soft sound, sympathetic and he pulled at your hand, tugging you into him until you relented. Your face found his chest, nose pushed to his fresh chef whites and he smelled like his cologne, lemongrass and something sweet like leftover icing sugar. He let you hide there instead, your hands clinging to the front of his apron and you only pressed closer when his hands smoothed over your shoulders, climbing down your sides until he could hold you to him. His lips were on your hairline, a little hesitant, because all of this was so new, because you were clearly upset, because he didn’t know what this was yet, how this worked. 

“What can I do, hm?” Eddie asked you softly, voice a low murmur. The walk in didn’t seem as cold with the way his nose was pressed to your temple. “What can I do to make you feel better, tell me.”

That hopeless feeling melted away with each pass of Eddie’s hand up and down your back, fingers trailing over the curve of your spine. You mumbled something intelligible, shrugging your shoulders again and hoping that Eddie couldn’t feel the heat that radiated from you. “I dunno,” you whispered. You swallowed, throat tight. You didn't know what to ask for too much, not so soon. “I don't want to— I’m not trying to—”

“Breathe, sweetheart.” You could hear the frown in his voice. 

“Last night meant something, right?” You didn’t ask for the world. No labels, not yet. Nothing too scary. Nothing too deep. “That wasn’t just a, uh, one off or whatever?”

Eddie laughed, the sound softened by the way he buried his face in your hair and the arms he’d wrapped around you tightened, squeezing, affectionate. “I have absolutely every intention of doing that with you again…” he murmured, coaxing you out of hiding only to cup your jaw, thumb pushed to your cheek. He grinned down at you, all flirt and charm. “And again and again and again. If you’ll let me.”

It was unnerving, what those words did to you. The tilt of his lips, the pretty cadence of his voice. Eddie’s thumb coasted over the apple of your cheek and suddenly you forgot all about the other waitress who was no doubt still outside in the kitchen. “That sounds nice, yeah.” You nodded, warm all over again, all for the right reasons. 

“You gonna let me take you out too?” Eddie asked and he leaned back against the racks, the cold metal doing nothing to deter him as he spread his legs a bit, pulling you between them by the tie of your apron until you were framed by his thighs. Closer, closer. “A proper date this time, please. A movie, some dinner, a walk somewhere real nice so I can kiss you goodnight and all that stuff?”

You grinned, cheeks aching, surprising yourself with the suddenness of it because now? Right then? Nothing else mattered but Eddie. “That sounds even nicer,” you told him and your eyes crinkled with the brightness of your smile. “Please.”

“Can I kiss you now? Been wantin’ to kiss you for ages,” Eddie murmured and his eyes were on your mouth, thumb moving closer to your chin, the tip of it ghosting the curve of your bottom lip and you nodded, eager in a way that should’ve been embarrassing but you pushed yourself to your toes and clung to him a little tighter.

A soft kiss, much, much softer than the ones shared the night before but still not appropriate for the workplace. Especially not a walk-in that was cold enough to make your toes ache. Not that you cared. But Eddie didn’t seem to either, humming in appreciation when you pressed yourself against him, face tilting to the side for him to deepen the kiss a little, lips moving a little more urgently against your own. 

“Need to stop,” he breathed as he pulled away, grudgingly, giving in again to press a peck to the corner of your mouth and then another to your cheek. His palms smoothed over your jaw, up across your temples to swipe away the baby hairs there. “Gonna get carried away.”

You felt dizzy, miles and miles away from the kitchen, from that awful feeling, from Chrissy. You knew exactly what he meant. 

“Can I make you some food now?” Eddie nosed at your cheek, arms winding around your waist and you felt so adored, the affection pouring from him by the bucket full. “You’ve not eaten all day.”

“Because someone ate my pancakes,” you said sourly and you regretted it immediately. You didn’t want to be the jealous girl, the insecure girl, the petty girl. But Eddie made it very hard to want to share. “Sorry, that was rude.”

Eddie snorted and just kissed your head, a touch so casual it made your heart jump. “C’mon,” was all he said. “Get your butt out of here before you freeze.”

It was easier to shuffle out of the walk-in when Eddie was leading you, his hand holding yours, the burning embarrassment you’d once felt fading to a shameful simmer. Chrissy was still at the boy’s station, picking out pieces of strawberry from the bowl, the plate of pancakes now empty. Steve was placing a bucket of dirty coffee cups into the sink and he looked up as the two of you appeared. 

“Oh hey,” he frowned in concern at your red rimmed eyes. “I wondered where you’d gone to, you ok—?” 

“Couldn’t reach the top shelf,” Eddie interrupted, smiling as if nothing had happened. He sent Steve a look and Chrissy watched, sucking fruit juice and sugar from her fingers. Eddie grinned at you, squeezing past you and the counter, his hands on your hips as he passed. “Had to lend a helping hand, didn’t I? Short stack.” 

Your heart ached, your chest feeling too full with the kindness, the affection. So you could only nod, looking sheepish and even if Steve didn’t believe Eddie, he stole a knowing glance at Chrissy and nodded. The kitchen was filled with the kind of tension that had made you run off in the first place, but the feeling of being out of place disappeared when Steve asked Eddie:

“I’m going for a smoke, you comin’?”

Eddie shook his head and busied himself with pulling an old stool out from Argyle’s prep station. It had one wobbly leg, but you didn’t care. Not when Eddie took your hand and helped you hop onto it, the chair closer to him than the stool Chrissy was sitting on. 

“Nah, man,” Eddie said. “M’gonna make my girl some food.”

[palioom]

going for a ride

summary: you've been eyeing your dad's hot best friend joel for a while, but you never had the courage to go and approach him by yourself. one day while watching him work on his harley in his garage, you finally decide to make a move.

pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader word count: 3.5k warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n (but a lot of nicknames); biker!joel with some tattoos; reader is in her early 20s; age gap; unprotected p in v; inappropriate use of a harley; cum shots; some dirty talk

• masterlist •

She was watching him.

Again.

He could feel her eyes stare into his back as he worked on his bike in his garage, door wide open in the hopes of letting a rare breeze in.

It was way too fucking hot today, and while Sarah was out with some friends, he used the time to get his bike ready, fixing some minor things and just checking if she was good to go still.

Because the weather was also good for taking his Harley for a ride again.

And her? His best friend’s daughter? Sitting in a chair on the lawn in front of her house, a big oak tree shielding her from the harsh sun.

Pretending to read a book, mostly just sparing long glances at him.

Trying to look innocent and occupied when he looked over to her.

Thinking she was slick.

She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Couldn’t stop looking.

Joel Miller, her dad’s best friend, covered in tattoos, all over his arms, his chest, up to his neck. Dark, salt and pepper hair slicked back, some sticking to his sweaty forehead.

He was hot. Working on his stupid bike like almost every day when he had the time to.

She liked to see his muscles flex as he tightened some screws or polished the sleek, black metal.

How his biceps bulged when he moved some heavy part away, or a crate or something else that showed just how strong he was.

His veiny hands when he was over at their place or they at his, watching football or having a cookout. How thick his fingers were, wrapped around a beer bottle which seemed damn small compared to his large hands.

More than just once had she imagined what his thick fingers would feel like stretching her out, late at night when the heat made it impossible to sleep. When her own hand vanished into her panties because her thoughts kept revolving around him, moaning his name quietly while her hips bucked up.

She felt herself growing wet just watching him right now.

Not once had she gone over to him when she was alone. Too nervous, her dad always going with her.

But with him gone today, on some stupid trip with one of his other friends, she just really wanted to go over, watch him work up close.

Squirming in her seat, she snapped her book closed and stood up, setting it on the chair and just looking over to Joel.

Heart beating in her chest as she tugged down her tank top just a little lower and pulled her booty shorts up just a little higher.

Now or never.

He heard her approach before he saw her, turning around with a raised brow, squinting his eyes against the harsh sun reflecting off his driveway.

“Hello, Mr. Miller.”

She looked pretty, always did, no matter what she wore.

But he couldn’t deny that there was something about the skimpy shorts and the way her breasts threatened to spill out of her top that just made her prettier.

Hotter.

Hair done up and a nervous, little smile on her face.

“Hello, darlin’.” He greeted her, wiping some oil off of his hands with a rag. Joel was curious to find out why she had come over. This was the first time she had made the way alone. “Told you before you can call me Joel.”

She stopped not too far from him, looking a bit unsure, her eyes fixed on his hands, how the tattoos moved with them. 

How adorable.

He couldn’t tell if she was more fascinated by his hands or the images on them.

“What do you need, sweetheart? Did something happen?”

Joel knew nothing had happened, smiling as he asked. 

Of course he had noticed the way she looked at him when she thought he was busy. Or at dinner, when he was over for a beer. 

When he fixed something at their place.

Always staring with her pretty eyes, turning away whenever she thought he had almost caught her.

And he couldn’t deny that he had thought about her, even if he tried not to, for her old man’s sake.

How couldn’t he?

With the way she looked and the way she acted? He’d be stupid not to think about her.

“I just- I saw you working on your bike and just wanted to ask if I could watch?” She asked, internally slapping herself for just how stupid she sounded. Watching him work on his bike, yeah sure. “I think it’s really cool and-”

“Sure, darlin’.” He chuckled, cutting off her nervous rambling. Watched as her eyes snapped up to his, smile on her face. “Wanna get a closer look?”

She nodded, eyes sparkling. All she could think about was how good he looked, with that smile of his and how it let the corner of his eyes crinkle slightly.

Joel just laughed and beckoned her closer with a nod of his head.

There was literally nothing she knew about bikes, still taking it in with wide eyes as she stepped closer to the Harley. It looked cool, that was really all she knew.

And he looked cool when he sat on it, riding through the neighbourhood, leather jacket and helmet on.

Got her squeezing her thighs together every damn time he raced past her house, running to the window when she already heard the familiar sound of it echoing up and down the street.

Joel only watched her, a smirk still on his face as he saw her circle it, lips slightly parted.

He couldn’t resist letting his eyes roam down to her ass, just peeking out from under these little shorts, making his dick twitch in his pants.

“It’s pretty.” She said sheepishly. “Like, super cool.”

“You can touch, it won’t bite.” 

Her eyes snapped up to him, apprehensive to touch the obviously very expensive motorbike, but then reaching out to touch the cool metal, the soft leather seat.

It really was a cool bike.

“Ever ridden one before?” He asked, stuffing the rag he had wiped his fingers with earlier into the back pocket of his jeans, watching her shake her head.

The way she looked at the bike almost made him wonder if she really was here for that instead of what he thought she was here for.

“No, dad said it’s too fucking dangerous to ride one.” She chuckled, trying to imagine herself on one.

All cool, clad in protective leather with sunglasses on. But never as cool as Mr. Miller.

“You’re old enough, sweetheart, your old man can’t do shit if you want one.”

Joel laughed and she joined in, clearly relaxing now.

“Yeah, like I got the money for a fucking Harley.” She joked, finishing her round and coming to stand beside him. “Said he was gonna kick me out anyways if I get one.”

A half-joke, she knew he would never.

Joel just nodded, thinking.

“You wanna sit on it?”

She looked up at him, clearly surprised by his question.

“C’mon, do it. I don’t mind.” He added, seeing the hesitation on her face. 

She really looked adorable like this, biting her bottom lip and her fingers playing with the rings on her hands. 

Fuck, they were small.

How often had he imagined them wrapped around his hard cock while he was fucking into his own fist.

So nimble and thin compared to his. Made it difficult to really imagine it was her getting him off.

“You sure, Mr. Mill-” She quickly cut herself off, correcting herself. “I mean, Joel?”

Her calling him Mister had never failed to make his dick twitch ever since had really taken notice of her one or two years back.

It was like the switch had flipped one day and he had finally seen how fucking pretty and hot she was.

“Go ahead.”

He watched her get on, a little clumsy as she swung one leg over the machine but managed to sit down. Her ass looked so good on his bike, her hands wrapping around the handles apprehensively.

“How’s she feel?” He asked, stepping a little closer as she adjusted herself on it, looking over it.

“Feels good.” She said with a smile, looking back at him, and god, that smile could melt him more than the Texas sun. “Do I look cool?”

Joel had to laugh at that, nodding his head. “Very fucking cool. Wanna feel her?”

Her brows furrowed at his words, her eyes saying everything.

“Scoot over, darlin’.” He said, swinging his leg over the bike and coming to sit behind her, his hands replacing hers on the handles.

She went rigid, with him so close to her, gasping when he turned the bike on, revving it a few times.

His laugh was so close to her ear, his chest pressed against her back as he leaned forward a little.

“What do you think?” 

A nervous laugh escaped her, moving back just a little, having to bite back a small noise when she felt him.

Already hard against her ass, hips rutting forward subconsciously as she moved against him.

She could swear she heard him groan, the loud engine drowning out the sound of it in the small garage.

Shit, he really was hard. But she tried to play it off, like she didn’t feel anything.

“Really cool, Joel.”

Joel noticed, of course, the way she stiffened and became nervous now.

His hips ground into her ass again, mouth close to her ear now.

“Wanna go for a ride?” He asked, turning off the motor, the sudden silence almost louder than the bike had been. Deafening, suffocating. “Or are you interested in a different kind of ride, sweetheart?”

She whimpered, a small noise in the back of her throat, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder. Eyes wide, maybe a little scared.

“What do you mean, Joel?”

Now that she had been cornered, she found it hard to speak, like her tongue had been tied up and rendered useless. He wasn’t actually implying what she thought he was implying, was he?

“You know what I mean, sweetheart.” He said, voice low. One of his hands came to rest on her bare thigh, feeling the softness of her skin, her eyes moving to it. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, darlin’.”

It creeped higher, her breath hitching when he squeezed a little.

“And now you come over in those skimpy shorts with your tits spilling out of your tank top and wanna tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

“Joel-” Her voice was shaky, swallowing hard. “I’m-”

All he wanted was to kiss her neck, so inviting as his hand wandered down again, her hips squirming.

“C’mon, speak up like a big girl and tell me what you need.” The hand not on her thigh reached into his front pocket, finding the remote for the garage doors and pressing the button to shut them. 

Her heart was beating in her chest, whimpering as he pressed himself closer to her, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

“Want you, Joel.” She breathed out, whimpering when his fingers flexed, his lips attaching to her neck now. “Fuck, I need you.”

He smirked, kissing down the column of her neck, enjoying the little sounds she made. Smelling as sweet as she looked.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he said, hand wandering to the button of her shorts, fiddling with it, “you’ve been thinking ‘bout me, haven’t you?”

She nodded, watching his thick fingers open the button, then pull down the zipper. Mesmerized by the way the thick veins on the back of his hand danced as he moved his fingers.

His other hand came up to cup her breast, making her moan, the sound bouncing off the walls and making him groan. Soft and warm and full, like they were made for him to hold.

Fuck, she sounded so sweet, he wondered what she’d sound like moaning his name as he fucked her. Spread her sweet pussy open with his cock.

“Been thinking about my dick? What it’d feel like?” He asked, voice raspy as his hand vanished into her shorts, finding her without underwear which drew a chuckle from him. “Stretching you open?”

She was so wet already, hips jerking forward when his fingers found her swollen clit, brushing over it. So, so eager to be touched.

“Y-Yeah.” Her answer was quiet, breathy. Throwing her head back against his shoulder as he gently pressed into her clit. 

“Ever had someone fuck you, sweetheart?”

She shook her head, hands grabbing his forearm for purchase. Feeling the muscles move beneath his skin made her head feel light.

No.

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath. Couldn’t believe she was a fucking virgin.

It was impossible with how she looked.

“Joel, please-” She whined, needing more. His hand on her wasn’t enough, she needed him inside of her, feeling an orgasm come closer as he put more pressure behind his movements.

“Is someone needy for some cock?” He said, biting into the soft flesh at the crook of her neck. “What would your old man say if he saw you here, sweetheart?”

“Please-” It was all she could say, his fingers on her breast pinching her nipple through the thin fabric of her tank top.

“Please what, darlin’?” He asked, kissing over her shoulder, breath hot against her skin, his finger speeding up. “Talk to me, ask nicely.”

Her whines grew louder, hips bucking into his hand.

She needed him, aching for him to stretch her open.

“Please fuck me, Joel. Please!”

He chuckled, biting her earlobe and taking his hands out of her pants, laughing at the noise of protest she made.

She felt him get up behind her, looking at him confused for a moment before he already dragged her off the bike by her waist.

With his broad hands on her hips, he bent her over it, pressing himself against her ass, making her gasp as her hands felt around for something to brace herself on.

“Got no idea how long I’ve been thinking ‘bout you, sweetheart.” Joel grunted, fingers hooking into the waistband of her shorts and pulling them down hastily. “Your cute little ass peeking out of those slutty shorts, teasing me all the damn time, swingin’ your hips around me.”

His hands found her ass, giving her a playful, light smack, enjoying her surprised squeal. He kneaded the warm flesh before opening her for him.

“All wet for me, darlin’?” He asked, seeing her nod and moan, thumb hovering over her slick entrance and pressing against it just slightly. “What a pretty, little pussy.”

She whined, trying to press her hips back into him, making him chuckle.

Still kneading her ass, he shook his head.

“You’re such a needy little girl, aren’t you? Whining and moaning for some cock to fill you up.”

She nodded again, biting her bottom lip.

When she heard the zipper of his pants, she stilled, looking over her shoulder to watch him open his jeans and push it down along with his underwear.

Letting his heavy, thick cock spring free.

“Fuck.” She gasped, feeling warm suddenly. Nervousness settling in her stomach, his size unsettling her a little bit. “S’not gonna fit, Joel.”

He stepped closer to her, one hand on her ass and the other wrapped around the base of his cock, teasingly swiping the head through her slick folds, gathering the wetness and grunting at the feeling.

“Gonna make it fit, don’t worry, darlin’.” Joel pressed into her carefully, his own need making him impatient. “Gonna be nice ‘n gentle.”

She hissed at the sting, feeling him slide in carefully, stretching her out. A drawn out moan left her, unable to keep her voice down with how good he felt inside of her when he finally bottomed out and stilled.

So much better than her fingers.

“What a tight little pussy, darlin’. All for me.” His hands smoothed over her back, pushing up the tank top to expose more of her skin, feeling her pulse around him.

“Feels good, Joel.” She whimpered, biting her bottom lip. He was so big inside of her, nice and thick. Stretching her open just right. “Please.”

“Please, huh?” He chuckled, hands wandering to her hips again. One day he would have to fuck her so he could see her face when she said the word. “Always so polite, your dad taught you well.”

Joel pulled back slowly, hearing her moan ripple through her, before pushing back in all the way.

Setting a steady rhythm, the wet slap of skin on skin mixing with their moans and grunts, echoing off the walls.

She felt hot, squeezing him tight and moving back into him with each thrust, her sounds so sweet he didn’t know how he had survived without them until now.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Looking so good bent over my bike, little pussy squeezin’ me tight.” He grunted, a particularly harsh thrust making her cry out and losing her balance for a moment, grappling for purchase. “But you gotta keep your noises down, don’t want anyone to hear you, hm?”

She slapped a hand over her mouth when his hips snapped into her again, as if to make her cry out on purpose.

“Don’t need the neighbours to know that Mr. Miller is fucking his friend’s daughter.”

He built her up fast, his cock feeling perfect inside of her, every snap of his hips getting her closer and closer to the edge.

His words were only spurring her on, his voice so deep and gravelly.

“C’mon, I know you’re close, sweetheart.” He grunted, losing his rhythm as he neared the edge as well. “Cum all over my cock like the good girl I know you are, ‘atta girl.”

She whined, sound muffled behind her hand, that familiar surge of her orgasm so much more intense when he pushed her over, crying out for him.

“There we go, ‘atta girl, pretty girl.”

Her legs felt wobbly as her entire body trembled, her slick coating his cock while he kept pounding into her, eyes on her ass, watching it jiggle in time with his thrusts.

Driving into her over and over, having just enough of a mind to pull out when he fell over the edge, stroking himself as white ropes of cum shot all over her ass and lower back, a deep grunt rumbling in his chest.

She whimpered, feeling so empty as he came all over her, his other hand on her hip holding her up, his noises making her shiver.

His cum felt warm on her back, a feeling she quite liked.

Her mind was hazy, hand falling from her mouth as she became limp, trying to gather her breath.

Joel swallowed hard, seeing her with his cum all over her.

What a pretty sight.

He knew then and there this wouldn’t be the only time this happened, already needing more as his thumb drew circles into her skin.

“You alright, darlin’?” He asked, reaching for the rag in his back pocket after he had pulled his pants up again and began to clean her up.

How he wished he could leave it there for longer, wished he could see her face covered in it.

Some day.

She nodded and hummed, slowly pushing herself up into a standing position, bracing herself on the Harley, legs wobbling.

“‘M fine, Joel, thank you.” She said, feeling him bend over behind her and pull up her shorts for her, helping her to close them.

He chuckled at her look when she turned around, hand on his tattooed forearm. Dazed smile and eyes glazed over, looking just a little too blissed out.

“Felt really good.”

“You good to walk home?” He asked, hand on her back, all the gentleman again now. “Or do you need a minute, sweetheart?”

Like he hadn’t just said all that filth about how tight she was. Or had his cock buried inside her to the hilt.

She nodded, walking beside him to the garage door which opened now. “Yeah, I think I’m good.”

“Good.” He said, wide, mischievous smile on his lips as the sun flooded back into the garage. Hand falling from her back now as they stood there, just looking at each other. “You know, sweetheart, if you wanna know more about bikes, just come on over.”

The look he gave her made her heart stop, but she giggled at his words.

“I’ll gladly teach you more.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

A wide grin graced her face, laughing again before she walked off, steps just a little wobbly still.

He could swear her hips swayed more than usual, ass peeking out at the bottom of her shorts again.

The barbeque at her place in two days would be very interesting.

And he really hoped she’d come over again, just so he could take her for another ride.

[ryiju-muunie]

700 Follower Special!

Baby come sit on my face~

college student!fem!reader/professor!Toji Fushiguro/professor!Kento Nanami/professor!Choso Kamo/professor!Suguru Geto Warnings: classroom sex, orgy, semi-public sex, spit roasting, double penetration, blow job, hand job, Choso and Geto lowkey start getting freaky, intense breeding, pussy eating, nipple sucking/play Word count: 2757 DESC: You decide to get extra credit the only way you know how ... being a whore

Ok maybe this is not coherent I AM SICK!! But thank you for 700!! Next up issssssssssss BDSM month!

NOTES: I've been putting this off for so long I'm already passed 700 LMAO. I don't know if this is going to be anything special but hey orgy man

How hard was it to get extra credit? Any normal student would do the simple things, you know, email their teachers professionally and ask for extra coursework. Or perhaps, buy school supplies on their professor's wish lists to boost themselves up in the classroom. For you, it was different. You were a full-time college student, although full-time was a stretch. Over time was a better word for the number of classes you took. Economics, history, math, geography, English- I could go on. But here’s the thing, as much as you tried to be a scholar student, you were falling behind. Your grades were slipping into terrible territory.  

So what else were you to do but ask for extra credit? You had seen enough porn to know how it would go. And you had also not interacted with enough humans to realize the idea was utterly insane. I mean, gathering all four of your professors [trust me it would’ve been more, but they were busy] into a desolate classroom as you stripped? It was insanity! Why the hell would these esteemed professors ever ruin their careers for some fun? Well, knowing them, you made the right choice. Your choice of winky faces and ~ made them all quirk their brows, but they weren’t stupid.  

Professor Kamo, for geography, was the first to arrive. He was a dark-dressed, tall individual. Out of all your professors, he was the absolute cutest. The way his face scrunched into a pout as he waited for answers, or how he beamed when talking about his favorite geological locations. You had to admit, you had fantasized about every teacher, but he was the one you liked the most. You imagined pulling on his hair, or even putting it up to make him such a cute little puppy. He would be a perfect sub, following you around with a subtle collar on his neck. Something to show you were his owner. Oh, you loved it.  

Then both your economics and your math teacher came in, Dr. Nanami and Mr. Fushiguro. Dr. Nanami was older, with blonde hair with salt and pepper starting to sprinkle at his roots. By far, he was the oldest and the sexist, although Mr. Fushiguro was a very close second. They were both tall and muscular from what you could tell, but your dark-haired professor had a sort of delinquent charm you found riveting. He would sit on top of his desk, talk candidly, and openly curse without caring if the students were offended. You wished he’d bend you over that same desk and whisper those stupid equations you never got in your ears.  

Finally, Professor Geto arrived. If you thought Mr. Fushiguro was a delinquent, he was nothing compared to the youngest professor. He had long hair, typically pulled back in a bun. The man insisted he only had a very limited number of tattoos, but you always saw more peak out from his sleeves or the underside of his shirt if he extended his arms. He was absolutely covered, with piercing holes in his face from jewelry you knew he had to take off every morning. His eyes too, God, they were sultry without even trying. The perfect seductive stare, every time he looked at you. It wasn’t purposeful, but you hoped it was. 

Your teachers all gathered at random desks as you were seated on top of a desk before them. Your outfit left little to the imagination, making it a bit hard for any of them to keep their eyes off you. White buttons on your blouse, pulling at your breasts and barely staying together. Your lacy black bra was peeking out, as was your thong. It was cheesy, but your only reference was shitty porn, right? Then a pencil skirt, but nothing office-appropriate. If anything, it was short and tight. It hugged the fat of your thighs perfectly, making them protrude as your legs crossed.  

Mr. Fushiguro was the first to break the silence, crossing his arms with a glare your way, “So is this the emergency?” He raised an eyebrow and motioned to your clothes [or lack thereof], “You don’t seem too … stressed out.” God that tone, the way he sized you up with his eyes. It was utterly seductive and utterly disparaging how you couldn’t run your hands over his muscles.  

“I think she might want extra credit,” Dr. Nanami concluded, taking a hold of his tie. Each day he arrived at class with a new tie, and today he chose your favorite. Just a plain black tie, but it contrasted beautifully against his pale skin tone. His fingers wrapped around the fabric and slowly he pulled it back and forth, off his neck. Oh well, he already got the memo it seemed. Your other two Professors simply watched as the two older men approached you with hunger in their eyes, stalking you like prey. You were going to be theirs tonight- all of theirs.  

Your black-haired professor was the first to take hold of you, placing his large hand on your thigh. It almost made you shiver, how he took your skin like you were nothing more than a mere object. His fingers dug into the plush fat and kneaded it slowly, just to see how you would react. You, obviously, were feeling a bit of arousal at this kind of touch. It was evident in how you bit your bottom lip, grating your teeth to the pleasure building in your lower half. It was kind of pathetic, how just a few simple touches were making your clit throb with anticipation. What didn’t help was another hand grabbing ahold of your jaw, turning your head to face him. Kento’s eyes were cold and grey, something you had grown fond of. It was hot, how he took charge and narrowed his eyes on you. Looking at you as if you were nothing more than his personal toy. Oh, and you were, you were so prepared for all of this. Pathetic.  

He leaned forward, slowly placing his loosened tie around your neck and tightening it. Just enough you could feel it, not enough to restrict your airflow. Although, you wouldn’t have minded if it made you choke- if he made you choke. The blonde pulled on the tie, making you fall forward into his grasp, where your lips finally met. You could hear a groan escape your other professor, but hell, you could’ve cared less. Fingers entangled in your hair as his mouth overtook yours in a sloppy bliss. Over and over did his tongue search your mouth and roll circles against your own. Teeth collided as you throbbed, completely soaking your underwear. You needed him, no you needed all of them.  

You pulled back from the kiss in search of Toji, locking lips with him next. He grabbed a hold of the tie and tightened it to the base of your neck, dominating your mouth in a slow kiss. It was painful, how he made you take your time instead of greedily taking him like you wanted to. Like you so badly wanted to. His large hand found a home on your hips, while more sets of hands spread apart your legs. You couldn’t tell who was pulling down your underwear as it fell to your ankles, warm fingers spreading apart your folds. Tongue against tongue and lips against lips, that’s all you could focus on as you felt lips on your neck, biting away, lips on your breasts, and a pair of hot lips against your clit. God, it was so overstimulating.  

You pulled away again to take in the scene before you, leaning back onto Professor Kamo for support as he bit at your neck. Nanami had undone your blouse … at some point and was beginning to mark your chest with his mouth, sloppily kissing the skin as if you were his last meal. Then Suguru had placed himself between your legs, face pressed against your warmth. It looked like he couldn’t breathe, but he wasn’t coming up for air. The pleasure was building; He wasn’t taking his time either. Although it was a slow build, it was intense. The kind of waves you’d only truly get from one of those rose toys. How the hell did he do that with his mouth? 

Another kiss took hold of you, this time by Choso. It was different from the rest, so sweet and soft. God, you wanted to corrupt this sweet kiss. You wanted to corrupt him most of all, make him beg to cum repeatedly until he was a panting mess. You leaned your head against his, pushing your mouth against his for more friction.  

Slowly your pussy was feeling swollen, as if it was already conceding from just this little amount of abuse. You wanted to cum, God you wanted to cum all over Professor Geto. Just coat him in your hot slick and watch as he had one of the other Professors lick him clean, before they’d get distracted and make out. That thought made you let out a noise, something you hadn’t done up until that point. They didn’t expect you to be so silent, but now it was all coming out. Your back arched to the thought of the men forgetting about you and taking each other instead, fucking until they were all a huge mess of sweat and spit. You moaned to the thought of Toji grabbing ahold of Choso’s face and tongue fucking him with all his strength, and how it would look. How it would sound too. The noises the two men would make, mixing with the sounds of the other men. And your wet pussy, how you’d touch yourself to the sight. It was making you clench at the thought.  

“Pretty girl,” Suguru cooed, pulling back from your cunt with slick trailing from his chin. One of his fingers slowly found its way inside, followed by another one, followed by a third. You gaped at the sensation, wishing you were fuller. Full of their cocks and their cum, pumping load after load into your cervix. You couldn’t speak, instead all you could do was whimper into Choso’s mouth as he grew desperate for your tongue, slowly grinding his erection into your back. It pressed against your curves and made you hungry to taste it, letting it fill your throat.  

“Fuck me,” you finally rasped, pulling away from the kiss and tapping Kento’s head a few times. Toji had been busy licking and sucking on your neck, but once he heard your words, he pushed you back against the desk. It was enough to overpower Choso’s hold on you, sending you falling back onto the hardwood.  

You weren’t sure how it happened, all of it becoming such a blur, but you found yourself straddling Dr. Nanami, with his cock ghosting your cunt, Toji, with his erection pressed against your anus, and your two other Professors standing before you, their dicks waiting to be touched by your greedy hands. You were salivating, reaching out and taking a hold of Choso’s boner before your mouth wrapped around Geto’s. He couldn’t help but grab the base of your neck, forcing you down his length. Then you felt Kento slide you down, and Toji force slicked fingers inside your hole. It was all at once, how you were being fucked and fingered, then sucking and stroking. God, it was becoming too much, how you were used and used like you were nothing more than a toy.  

Your hand stroked Kamo’s cock as your tongue lolled around Suguru’s dick. It tasted so good and felt like bliss as it kissed your throat. Each thrust of his hips sent his tip deeper and deeper until you felt yourself gag. All the while, Nanami was taking you with slow strokes. He wanted to feel you, take his time with you. Savor your plush pussy as he bottomed out. Then he wanted to fuck you, deep and hard, until you could barely take it. But the good slut you were, you’d take it. You’d take all of it like a good girl. God, it was driving him crazy.  

Toji’s fingers were circling your entrance and teasing your asshole, plunging into your hole slowly just to feel you stretch around him. It was first one digit, before the rest followed suit. You gasped around Geto’s length and pulled back, arching to the sensation of your cunt and your hole being penetrated. It was so good, touching spots you didn’t even know existed. But you were neglecting your other professor, who you saw was whimpering into your touch. Just like the pathetic sub he was, he wanted your mouth all around his member. You complied, swallowing Choso whole as your two hands began to satiate your other professors' burning desire.  

“F-fuck,” Kento stuttered, his hands planting themselves on your hips as he thrust into you. You finally tuned into the sounds around you, hearing the squelching and moaning from the men surrounding you. Toji was groaning into your ass as he finger fucked you, the blonde was losing himself in your walls, Choso was whining and gripping your hair, and Suguru was letting out breathy gasps from your hands alone. It was overstimulating. Each hole, each orifice, and each part of your body was being tended to. Who cared about the homework at this point? It had become more than that as you were used and fucked for their pleasure. You were a toy, a fuck thing. You were nothing more than someone who was being used to get all these older men off, and it was getting you closer and closer to the edge.  

You wanted to cum so bad all over Kento and Mr. Fushiguro hadn’t even gotten to fuck your tight asshole yet. You wanted to feel Choso splatter ropes of pure hot and white cum down your throat, bucking his hips and forcing you to choke as he kept going. You wanted to feel Suguru paint your face in his sperm as he thrust into your two hands, since his cock was too big for one. And especially, you wanted Professor Nanami to make you a good little mommy. You wanted him to fuck you repeatedly until you were swollen, until you were bulging with his cock and his spunk. God, the thought of your cervix being kissed by his dick was getting you off. Then you felt your asshole begin to stretch.  

Maybe that’s what sent you over the edge in an orgasm. It took over and within seconds you let out a sob. Your head pulled back from Mr. Kamo’s member as you leaned forward onto the man below you. There was intense bliss that filled your pussy and flowed into your brain, different than anything you’ve ever felt before. It was arousing, causing the yearning fire to come back moments after you had finished. Then Kento finished inside you. Your walls clenching around him was too much, sending him over the edge as the coil in his stomach broke. White and hot spurts of cum were pumped deep into your tight hole, as he fucked his orgasm right back into you.  

All the while, you hadn’t noticed the two men before you decided to get each other off instead of waiting on you. Choso pressed his lips sloppily to Suguru’s, wrapping his arms around the other as his dick rubbed against his length. It was hot to see them get each other off, holding their cocks together and bucking them up and down. His tip was swollen and leaking, brushing against Geto’s in a way you knew felt so good. You wanted to hold them together and press your fingers against their slits in a way that would drive them crazy, but feeling two men fuck into you was starting to get too much.  

Toji fucked into you like he had an agenda, and it was to get his own release. He didn’t care about your pleasure, and it was turning you on again. Kento on the other hand was trying so hard to keep his composure in favor of your pleasure. Yet, you so desperately wanted him to lose control and use you. You were their fuck toy. And you’d let them use you again, and again, and again, if it meant they could get off. You loved it. You relished in being used like a nasty whore. And they got off on that fact, too.  

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Fading Into Lilac Skies✨

Boyfriend’s Dad! Joel Miller x fem! reader

A/N: “Colors” by Halsey inspired this one-shot, and I’m absolutely in love with them. Thank you to the lovely @alltheirdamn for being my beta reader 💜 This has been permeating in my mind for a few months, and I’m so glad I finally wrote it. Reblogs and comments make my day ✨

Summary: You never meant to fall for your boyfriend’s dad, but it happened. You just couldn’t stay away from those shades of blue and grey. But your favorite thing was turning them the color your soul was. Lilac.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags: Yearning, longing, forbidden love, secret affair, secret relationship, mentions of smut, falling in love, angst, boyfriend’s dad! Joel, age gap, no use y/n, no outbreak! au

“Everything is blue. His pills, his hands, his jeans. And now I'm covered in the colors, pulled apart at the seams. And it's blue, and it's blue. Everything is grey. His hair, his smoke, his dreams. And now he’s so devoid of color, he don’t know what it means. And he’s blue, and he’s blue.”

- “Colors” by Halsey

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

There’s a point you had passed long ago, a restricted section that should’ve had bolted locks forbidding you from ever daring to enter such a dangerous territory. Those gates were torn down and ripped open the moment you met him. Your boyfriend’s dad, Joel Miller. There was just something that kept you coming back to his house, back into the lion’s den. Back into his arms. Joel Miller’s.

It all started that first time you laid eyes on him while he sat in his garage, a large brewed cup of coffee in hand, taking slow sips while he watched the sun slip into the sky, painting vivid pinks and oranges from the sunrise.

He was intense, pensive, brooding. Something about him screamed sorrow, regret, maybe mournful like he had lost something or let someone slip from his fingers. His salt-and-pepper scruff framed his shadowed face, long greying sandy hair silhouetting his hooded chocolate eyes. His green flannel clung to his large arms, broad shoulders hugging the soft fabric. His thick veins spiraled down his tanned arms like a waterfall, and his thick fingers hugged the curve of the coffee cup with every sip he took from the steamy drink. You almost wanted to become the sides of that curved coffee cup, just so you could maybe taste what it was like to be kissed by lips that looked like they were soft enough to fall into, and maybe he’d swallow you whole.

His dark eyes fell on you, slowly slipping over your form entirely as your boyfriend, Jackson, introduced you to his father, an extremely handsome man that made butterflies flit through your stomach.

“Dad, this is my girlfriend. Had to finally introduce you,” Jackson smiled enthusiastically, like he was the proudest boyfriend in the world.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” you said shyly, fingers curling against your cotton summer dress, eyes widening with the slight grunt and nod your way from him.

“Call me Joel, sweetheart.” He took your hand slowly, calloused fingers colliding with your own to leave you choking on your own shaky voice. His eyes were like wildfire, dark flecks glistening up at you, tempting you to jump into the raging flames.

His big hand lingered against yours a little too long, not even paying attention to his son who stood right next to you, until he dropped your hand and flicked his eyes back to his only son. “I trust you’re takin’ good care of her?” he asked, eyes slightly narrowing at his twenty-eight-year-old son.

“Sure am, pops.”

Joel hummed, flicking his eyes back to you as they nonchalantly slid over your body again, making your breath falter at the sight. “He gives you any trouble you come to me, understand?” he demanded with a slight gruffness to his deep voice, almost sounding like he was commanding you.

You nodded, gasping at the dominance in his tone. “Yes, sir,” you murmured.

“Attagirl,” he smiled, coffee eyes swirling in your vision. You nearly buckled your knees at the word. Attagirl. Jackson never told you that, didn’t dare call you a good girl. But Joel? He might as well have fucking just said that, he basically did say that.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it. You two stay out of trouble, alright?”

“Sure, dad. See ya later. Gonna go drive down to the lake.”

You gave him one last glance as he said your name low, nodding his head your way as he watched you walk to the hunter green jeep, waiting for Jackson to unlock the car.

Your eyes trailed back to the garage, making you gasp when you saw Joel staring directly your way, sipping on his coffee and keeping those cool, dark eyes on you. Your breath shifted and your heartbeat skipped a beat, making your legs feel like mush. And when you finally drove off the pavement, his eyes still stayed locked on yours, even as you left the street. They never once looked away.

Fuck. You never expected to have a crush on your boyfriend’s dad, but here you were. Fingers tangled in your fabric with your breathing rapid and unsteady.

Yeah, this was not going to be good.

Jackson later told you his father had gotten a bad divorce a couple years ago, had a struggling fight to keep custody of his daughter, Sarah, and had gone through a bunch of shit with his previous contracting company. He really had seen the tolls of hell lately, and now you started to get why he always seemed so sad when you’d see him working in his garage by himself or sitting out on his wooden porch drinking freshly brewed coffee and strumming along softly on his acoustic guitar. He was lonely.

There was always something missing, a fraction of a piece lost in those dark, somber eyes of his. And you felt bad for him, even sorry, like it was somehow your fault. You wished you could make it better, give him something to cling to for the sadness to settle away, maybe take a teaspoon of those grey skies and turn them to bright blue ones. But you shouldn’t think that, not with your boyfriend’s dad. What kind of girlfriend would that make you? But apparently those thoughts completely flew through your mind, getting lost to the soundless wind and muted regrets.

A couple of weeks went by and you found yourself at his house again, just so he could fix something on Jackson’s jeep. Something with the alternator. Just when you thought you were safe, Jackson ran to the car parts store, leaving you alone in Joel’s house. Somewhere where you should’ve never been left alone.

You meandered out on the back porch, finding him sitting in a wooden rocking chair and sighing, his back hunched while he watched a pack of deer graze on the tall grass. He looked somewhat content, but you could see in that far off gaze he was contemplating something very deep in that ocean of a grey mind.

“Mind if I sit?” you asked, watching him nod his head to the polished rocking chair sitting next to him. You took a seat cautiously, careful not to disturb his morning peace, but he didn’t seem so bothered by your company.

His eyes flicked to yours slowly. They were a shiny amber color today, deep brown flecks glittering against the rising sunshine. And they were so beautiful that a gasp slipped from your lips unexpectedly. Closing your gaping mouth, you briefly smiled, and his eyes seemed to crystallize over into a deeper chocolate color.

He was so beautiful.

“You doin’ alright, sweetheart?” he asked calmly, his breath warm, gently blowing against the side of your face. You smelled the coffee simmering on his tongue, and his pine scent kissed your skin, awakening something deep inside you that should’ve never bloomed in the first place.

“Oh, mhm. Great, actually. But what about you?” You tilted your head and watched the way his jaw flexed, his eyes cloudy with a tinge of gloom in those brown doe eyes of his.

He shrugged and took a slow sip of his coffee, looking far off into the open field that had deer and cattle meandering out in the lush green acreage. “Workin’, stayin’ busy. Guess you could say I’m jus’ fine. Got everything I need right here.” His eyes flicked over the open field, but you saw the faint hint of regret as his eyes darkened, and his body slid a little further down into his hand-made rocking chair.

Slowly turning your knees to him, you leaned against the solid arm of the rocking chair and caught the way his eyes slid back to yours, like he knew you were about to say something else. Taking a deep breath, you went for it. “Jackson told me about… about everything you’ve been going through these past couple of years. And I wanted to say, if you ever need a friend or just someone to talk to, then you can talk to me. I’ll be here.”

Your hand slowly reached over, timidly grazing over the top of his rough hand, until your palm cautiously settled against his broken skin, starting a warm fire in the pit of your stomach as your skin brushed against his.

His back went rigid, and the way he was looking at you all wide-eyed and soft had your heart pounding uncontrollably in your chest. An unsteady rhythm that had your throat closing up like there was no more air available in your lungs. There was only him swirling around your heart.

He flicked his gaze across your settled hand and slowly but surely, his other hand came down to rest on yours, his fingers lacing in the crevice of your fingers until they formed like impenetrable clay. And suddenly, a shade of grey cleared from his foggy eyes, and warmth spread across his tanned cheeks. He wasn’t so blue after all, at least not when you were around.

“He told you?” he asked quietly.

“He told me everything,” you answered back discreetly.

“Why?” His thick eyebrows threaded together, and the wrinkles on his forehead formed a map of lines that you strangely wanted to trace with the tip of your finger, so you could maybe reach into his mind and tear away anything that hurt him in the past.

“Because I asked him…” you answered shakily, your fingers curling nervously into your white summer dress, twisting them until you pinched skin and flinched.

“I see.” His voice came out hushed, his eyes stormy as if he looked to the past and saw heartache all over again. You could see it in the way he held himself, fingers flexing, his shoulders hunched over, his back stiff. And your heart broke just thinking of the years that tore his body to shreds.

“And jus’ what did my son say to you?” His voice was deep, but it didn’t come out unkind or aggressive. It was just quiet, almost silenced, like he didn’t want to hear those hurtful words repeated.

“Well, he told me about Sarah and your messy divorce and then your job and…”

“‘Course he did. Always runnin’ his mouth ‘bout private matters that don’t concern anyone else,” he scoffed, shaking his head like he was used to his son always sharing secrets that should’ve been kept under lock and key.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller. I didn’t mean to intrude.” You scooted your body into the back of the wooden rocking chair, making yourself smaller like you had just crossed a line. You shouldn’t have asked Jackson, but you just had to know. You weren’t sure why, but some part of you yearned to know what made this beautiful man so weathered and frayed like his cracked, calloused fingers. It wasn’t any of your business, but you wanted it to be.

“Nah. Don’t do that. Don’t apologize like any of it’s your fault, sweetheart. You didn’t do anything wrong.” His arm came down on the side of his rocking chair briefly, thick fingers digging absentmindedly into the polished wood. His eyes were long gone into the hazy field ahead of him, the wildflowers gently blowing in the breeze, the oak trees swaying like the shiny pond water that lapped against the lush grass, your heart thundering in your chest with every stolen glance to the broken man who sat right next to you.

You couldn’t help but memorize the shine of his syrupy eyes, dark chocolate irises glowing in the rays of the sun peeking out of the grey clouds. They were so beautiful yet so sad. They deserved to be sparkling. Instead, they were full of turmoil, and that made you feel so empty for some unknown reason.

“Oh, okay then,” you eventually answered after staring way too long at his worn but immaculate face, his calloused fingers still on top of yours, the tip of his thumb brushing lightly against your knuckle like maybe he was trying to commit to memory how your skin felt against his. And just the thought of that had you dripping with sweat on the back of your neck.

“And jus’ Joel,” he replied, pressing his hand deeper against yours.

“What?” you whispered out.

“Jus’ call me Joel, darlin’. That’s my name, after all.” You blinked a few times, your mind reeling at the ask. He already told you to call him Joel once, the first day you met him in the garage, but something about first name basis was dangerous, forbidden. You shouldn’t say his name, shouldn’t call him anything but Mr. Miller, but here you were about to let his name be tattooed on your tongue like it was the only word you knew how to speak.

“Alright. Joel…” you answered cautiously, letting the wing sweep through your messy strands.

After waiting a beat, you spoke again. “Well, the offer still stands. I’ll be here, if you need someone to talk to.”

A gentle smile curled against his mouth slowly and for the first time, you saw the clouds clear fully in his dewy brown eyes.“You’re a pretty fuckin’ special girl, ya know that? Jackson got lucky. Beautiful girl like you deserves the world…” His eyes flicked down to his lap momentarily, but they quickly reverted right back to yours.

“Oh, I’m not… no, I’m not that special,” you laughed, shaking your head like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever said to you. You’re nothing special.

“Don’t be modest, sweetheart. Beautiful and special. The perfect combination. Don’t you ever forget it either.” His smile was so genuine. And his eyes, those exquisite brown doe eyes that made your voice shake, were making you forget how to form a coherent thought.

Oh. Beautiful…

“That’s kind of you to say, Joel, but I really don’t think...”

He lifted a rough-edged palm and stopped you right there. “Well, s’true. Don’t take anything less than what you deserve. I mean it when I say if you ever need anything, you come straight to me, darlin’. Wouldn’t ever leave you hangin’.”

His hand slowly reached out, your body completely paralyzed with every steady movement his fingers made. His fingertips brushed against your cheek, leaving scars you’d soon regret ever touched you, but they felt like a fine paintbrush drawing an entire masterpiece with every careful stroke he drew across your skin.

Electricity zapped through the cool air, sending sparks of lightning across every square inch he touched. And his eyes were absolutely sparkling, crystal domes that reminded you of citrine and smoky quartz. And when his fingers traced a loose strand behind the shell of your ear, it was like the world completely stopped, and the only sound you could hear was his slow breaths that smelled like strong coffee and pine trees dancing in the wind.

He was magnetic, and you wanted to burn right there in that little wooden rocking chair until you were nothing but burnt embers in his gentle palms.

Tires treading over gravel broke the intense spell you were under, and Joel’s palm fell from your cheek, leaving a trail of warmth behind in their absence. Both of your eyes were wide and daunting, and you knew you were fucked.

You shouldn’t be out here sitting alone with Joel, but you didn’t really care. He had you hooked, and now you were a baited fish.

“I should probably get back to Jackson,” you said quietly, pushing your shaky body from the rocking chair. The one that Joel had made by hand.

“Yeah, afraid you should,” he murmured in a hushed tone, his dark brown eyes following after you until you turned a corner where his electric stare couldn’t hold yours anymore.

You watched him sigh, his thick fingers curling back over his ceramic coffee cup as his plush lips met the sides. And in that moment, you so desperately wanted to be the dark coffee that caked his tongue in a swirl of various flavors. You wanted to be the sugar that left his body begging for more.

Taking a deep breath, you spoke without thinking it through. A plea to continue the conversations with this dream of a man. “Joel, your ex-wife was stupid to leave you. The way she treated you? You never deserved that. You deserve much better. I just hope you don’t think you were ever the problem because it never sounded like you were.”

Your hand latched onto the handle of the screen door and just as you started pulling it open, his deep voice made you lose your grip, and then the door swung shut with a bang.

“Sweetheart?” he called, craning his neck to look back at you with deep brown eyes.

“Yeah?” You slowly circled around and met those dazzling brown eyes that turned you into mush.

“You sure do know how to light up a room. Bring that pretty smile around here more often. You seem to keep the cloudy skies away.”

Your heart leapt into your throat and for the first time, you felt a heated warmth pull through your entire body, twisting around your veins until his name imprinted a mark on your heart.

Giving him one last smile, you turned and made your way back through the house, back to where you should be. With Jackson. But was that what you really wanted now? You never expected to have a crush on your boyfriend’s fifty-year-old dad, but here you were. Completely and utterly falling for something that should be so forbidden.

As the weeks went by, you found yourself at Joel’s more and more often, finding any excuse to visit or to have Jackson take you there. It started so innocent, so friendly but quickly faded into something that started to smother your insides until you bled Joel entirely.

Mornings became fresh cups of coffee on the back porch as you watched the golden sunrise and talked about life; the evenings you’d spend curled up on the floor, reading a book while he scanned over articles in the newspaper. Sometimes you’d sit on top of his workbench in the garage and watch him work on his truck.

It was the way he completely spilled his soul to you, making you feel alive, a feeling Jackson never could quite reach. Even just being in his warm presence was enough, where you could breathe in his lingering coffee scent, his cologne that smelled like pinewood and cedar trees, the aroma of sandpaper and palms caked in traces of paint that made you completely dizzy.

The small conversations started to not be enough later on; none of it was enough for you anymore. The slow touches became more frequent. Each time he’d walk past you, he’d brush against your shoulder, letting his hand trace against your strands of hair, your back, your hand. And you let it happen because it felt warm, right. And Jackson didn’t even fucking have a clue. Joel was that subtle; Jackson never saw it coming. You didn’t see it coming until that first day in his garage. You knew right then he was something special, and you just couldn’t learn to leave him alone.

Jackson was completely oblivious when the two of you would stay for dinner at Joel’s, not even noticing the lingering glances and the small brushes of knees under the kitchen table. And that’s all it took to fall.

And that first kiss. God, that first fucking kiss. The one that was so earth shattering it felt like you had the world in your hands. You were only supposed to help him with the watermelon in the kitchen, but then he pulled you into his arms, crushing you to his broad chest, and looked at you like no one else ever had before. Like he was completely and utterly in love with you.

You saw flickers of onyx and dark chocolate swirling in your vision, tempting you to jump into the flames. And when his calloused palm traced your cheek softly and he leaned in, you drowned in the flames.

His mouth molded to yours perfectly, shooting sparks of lightning through your bloodstream the way his taste fell like water against your soft lips. And you lapped it all up, committed his coffee taste to memory, even the wafts of spice that drizzled off his slicked back greying locks.

And that was the moment you sold your soul to hades because this calamitous decision would drag you down into the inferno. But you’d burn, never regretting the day his lips fell into yours.

It wasn’t even a one time thing. No. It formed into the most catastrophic, impending decision of your life, but you let it happen anyways. If Jackson was granite then Joel was gold. Impenetrable, unique, beautiful. You just couldn’t let him go.

Hot summer days turned to cool autumn evenings where you spent hours curled up against Joel’s warm chest. The sheets damp, clothes long forgotten, sweaty bodies that burned hot for each other. You forgot all your morals each time his head was between your thighs, his mouth fused to your drenched center, his tongue stroking and lapping up your breath-taking release each time he took you over the edge. And the way his cock stretched you, filling you so full of him, felt like fireworks shooting off inside you. His mouth swallowed your echoing moans with each snap of his hips, his body like a burning furnace that set you ablaze time and time again.

And that first moment he told you he loved you while you were curled up in his lap on the porch swing was magic. He was magic. And god, you loved this man with every fiber of your being.

There were no more cloudy days, no more grey shades threading his body like his tousled curls. No. He was vibrant, alive, and your red shades collided with his blue hues, mixing together to form the prettiest lilac skies you ever did see. And when he weaved his body around yours like a tight string, claiming you as his, entire hurricanes crashed and left your body to float out to sea. But Joel would keep you afloat, even through the pain of losing Jackson.

One day you’d have to tell Jackson, end it, but you had no strength to do that. Neither did Joel. So you were both doomed, damned to burn together in the pits of hell. You’d never forgive yourself for betraying Jackson, but Joel… well, you just couldn’t lose him. So you wouldn’t.

Joel found a way to thread every inch of you to him, sewn into the very essence of his soul as you swirled yourself into his shades of blue.

And then you were nothing but lilac skies.

[billthedrake]

SUGAR DADDY (PART ONE)

I was cooling down from my run, and I was paying more attention to the traffic light to cross. I almost didn't see them.

But the man saw me, a look of embarrassment sweeping his face before the familiar friendly tone won out.

"Luke?" he said.

"Mr. Keenan," I replied automatically, as if the recognition was coming out of my mouth before it hit my brain. Mr. Keenan was my buddy Rich's dad, a successful corporate lawyer or something. I know Rich had issues with his father, made even worse by his parent's divorce, but Mr. K was always beyond nice to me. And truth be told, I always found him incredibly attractive. Tall, handsome, salt and pepper coming in on the temples, kind of like a TV dad. Even now he was in a nice-cut navy suit, dress shirt and no tie.

His blue eyes were taking me in. It had been over three years since I'd last seen the man, since high school graduation, and I'm sure I looked different now. "I almost forgot you went to school here," he said. "Georgetown?" he prompted.

"Yes, sir. They haven't kicked me out yet," I smiled in my self-deprecating way.

It was then that I noticed the woman standing next to him. She couldn't have been any older than me. She was pretty, real pretty, with that sorority girl look. Straight blond hair and big tits for a girl with her trim frame. At least they showed off well in that spaghetti strap cocktail dress she had on. Her high heels didn't get her close to Mr. K's 6'3" height but they added a couple of inches.

I now had a pretty good idea why Rich's parents got divorced.

The man's date was good at hiding her annoyance at my presence but not good enough that I couldn't see that she wanted to get on to where they were going. Part of me couldn't blame her. It was fall, the evening was cool, and she was underdressed for it.

Mike Keenan realized where I was looking and that embarrassed look came back on his face. "Luke, this is Kimberly..." he turned to his girlfriend or date or whatever. "Luke's from back home," he explained. Almost with an emphasis of meaning.

Turning back to me. "We should go, buddy... but it's great running into you, Luke."

"You, too, Mr. Keenan," I said. It was only then that I was self conscious about standing on a busy Georgetown sidewalk in my sweat-drenched running clothes, the cool getting to me now that the exercise was wearing off.

He flashed his trademark smile, like he always did when I came over. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, deftly extracting a business card. "I'm in DC a few nights a week these days. Reach out and we'll catch up, OK?"

"Sure thing, Mr. K," I said, taking the card in my fingers.

Then I watched as my friend's dad and his college-aged girlfriend went walking on to their date spot.

****

"I was gonna ask if you can keep things under wraps about Kimberly," Mr. Keenan said as we waited for our burger at a nice but not overly fancy bistro that DC seemed to have a ton of. I'd met Mr. K closer to his hotel, just two nights after running into him.

"Oh yeah, sure," I said. If the man had asked me to give an alibi to the police for something I probably would have. I mean, Mike Keenan always was great to me, encouraging me in my baseball playing and even helping me out with college admissions stuff, since my folks were more blue collar. His dating life was really none of my business, but I felt like it was conversation worthy. "How long have you two been dating?"

He squirmed in his seat and sighed. "A while... not too long..." he said then gave me a long hard look. "Listen, Luke, you can keep this between us, right?"

The blue eyes and handsome jawline and perfect teeth were gonna make me crush out a little on the man, like I did back in high school. "Absolutely," I replied. Earnest as hell.

He smiled. He could read my sincerity, and I think it amused him. He leaned back and had a soft leer on his face, a side of him I'd never seen. "She's not my girlfriend," he explained. "I met her on one of those sugar daddy sites."

I may have been a dumb jock, but I figured out what he meant pretty quick. "You mean she's a hooker?" I asked. I had to laugh, and Mr. K laughed back.

"No, well, not exactly," he replied. "But there's a little of that, even if we both pretend that's not what's going on." His eyes searched out mine, and I knew he was trying to read if I was freaked out or judgmental. I wasn't, just surprised.

I tried to pass off my shock with a joke. "She expensive?" I said.

He grinned, with a I-can't-believe-you-asked-that look. But he replied anyway. "Very. But I can afford it."

Something about his tone and lecherous nature got me hard. Not chubbed, but full on erect in my jeans.

The man mistook my horniness for a different reaction. "Sorry Luke," he said. "I shouldn't have said that... only you asked."

"No, it's good," I assured him. "Just didn't expect it, is all."

"Fair," he said. He sighed again. "Seriously, Luke, not a fucking word to Rich. Or anyone. I mean it."

"I won't, Mr. K, promise," I assured him. He probably didn't want to talk about it anymore, but I was very curious. "So... how's it work exactly?"

"How's what work?"

"The sugar daddy thing."

He seemed more businesslike. Maybe he enjoyed being able to confide, or maybe he just was humoring me. "I pay for Kimberly's apartment and of course for dates," he explained. "There are gifts, too, but she doesn't make me jump through hoops like some of the others."

I was letting it sink in that this one wasn't Mr. K's first. I knew the guy was loaded, but that kind of money was wild to me.

"Damn, I should get a sugar daddy," I joked.

Without missing a beat, Mr. Keenan shrugged his shoulders and said, "You could. If that's what you wanted."

I blushed. I was still pretty closeted though Rich Keenan knew. Maybe Mike Keenan knew too.

The man seemed to enjoy catching me off guard. "A colleague of mine goes for high-class call boys, but I've been trying to convince him to go for something more legit." This was definitely a new side to Mike Keenan than I'd seen.

He paused. "Sorry, Luke. I'm not really suggesting... You know that, right?" The old Mr. K was back.

"Yeah, Mr. Keenan," I said. I wasn't totally naive, but this evening had already made me feel more green than I wanted.

He held up his empty rocks glass in a gesture for the bartender to bring another. He then turned to me. "You have any special men in your life?"

So Mr. K did know.

I shook my head. "I've hit the apps some," I said with candor. "But no one special."

He patted me on my shoulder, like he used to back when I'd come over to visit Rich. Like a buddy or a dad. "Well, you've grown into a fine young man, Luke Bowman. I'm sure that someone special will come soon... maybe when you're not expecting it."

OK, I was more than a little crushed out.

***

Something about seeing Mr. Keenan was a spark in my life that I needed. I'd spent too much of my college years scared. Scared of getting out there, of meeting men. I liked men who were older. Coach types, though that was out of bounds and not realistic. But I changed the age range on my app profile and decided I was going to be open to engaging with men who turned me on there.

It was hit or miss. I heard from some real obnoxious guys. I went on some dates with a really fucking hot doctor who was great sex but then basically ghosted me. I had a couple of hookups that were good for what they were.

I wasn't being a man-whore exactly, but I enjoyed making up for lost time a little.

Strangely Mr. K became my confidante. I don't know why I thought the man would be homophobic, hell maybe deep down he was, but we each shared a secret with the other. And once he was back in DC for business that spring, I met him every other Wednesday for burgers and beer, depending on my game schedule. I got the increasing feeling that he valued his time with me, since he and Rich didn't get along well these days. The man carried a lot of guilt for his broken marriage, but he'd be the first to admit that he'd probably do the same thing all over again.

"Buddy, college girls are the best," he leered one Spring night as we finished our meal. Mr. K let his hair down a LOT with me these days. "I know they don't do anything for ya, Luke, but Jesus, fuck..."

I laughed. I knew Mike Keenan was a grade-A horndog and probably not a good man in that way, but I enjoyed seeing his naughty side.

"You ever think about dating one for real, Mr. K?" I asked. For most of our meetings, it had been mostly my buddy's dad asking me about my life, but it was just now getting to the point where I felt like I could ask personal questions like this.

He shook his head. "It wouldn't work. Besides, I wouldn't do that to Rich." It was a strangely profound admission.

I gulped. Yeah, I could see it from my buddy's perspective, having a stepmother his age, or younger even.

"That's cool, Mr. Keenan. But you gotta live your life, too," I said.

That caught the man off guard. He looked at me then smiled. He reached over and ruffled my hair. "You really think that, dont ya?" he asked.

I nodded, embarrassed.

He grinned. "Don't worry, kiddo. I'm enjoying my middle age years. A little too much."

"With Kimberly?" I prompted. He hadn't mentioned her in a while.

"I called off that arrangement," he said bluntly. "She wanted more."

"A ring?" I laughed. I didn't get straight people, not really, but at the same time they were my entire world.

That leer returned to the man. "No. More money. I'm taking a break for now."

"How long will that last?" I teased.

"Dunno. A month. Maybe two. Till I get horny again."

"I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have to wait that long to get laid, Mr. K."

It was meant as a playful comment, at least in my head. But the second it came out I realized I'd said too much. That Mr. Keenan could read everything in my face, everything I'd kept hidden. How attracted I was to him, how crushed out I was on him, how jealous I was of Kimberly or whatever sorority chick he was banging.

The look on the man's face could now see it all.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I started getting a panic attack. I stood up from the bar stool. "I should go," I said.

A hand reached out and gripped my forearm. Mr. K's grip was surprisingly strong. "Luke. It's OK."

Somehow, his understanding made it worse. I shook my head and broke free. "Sorry," I muttered. Then made a beeline for the door.

I felt dumb and intensely vulnerable as I walked to the bus stop. I'd messed up this friendship thing I had with Mike Keenan, but maybe it was fucked up that I was hanging out with my friend's dad like this in the first place. No maybe about it: it was majorly fucked up.

I was a block away from the stop when I got a text.

"Can I convince you to come back, Luke?" the man wrote. "I get it buddy."

I knew the smart thing would be to keep walking. To send a polite no thanks reply. Or just ignore the text. Instead I typed. "Yes Mr. K." And I walked back to the restaurant.

Mike Keenan was standing outside, looking handsome as fuck in his expensive suit. He had a worried look on his face, and I knew immediately he'd dashed out after me but didn't know which way I went.

His face brightened when he saw me. "We don't have to stay here," he said. "I settled up."

"Oh," I said. "Sorry..." I started to apologize, but he stopped me.

"You were honest," he said directly, blunt but still friendly. "Besides, what man doesn't like to hear he's attractive?"

I gave a wan smile and hunched my shoulders in a shrug. "A lot of straight men, I imagine."

I couldn't tell if Mike Keenan was just humoring me. He had a look of sympathy on his face for sure as he reached out and patted my arm. "How bout this? No labels between us, Luke?"

I didn't get what he was saying exactly, but I knew it was meant to reassure me. I nodded.

"Feel like coming to my hotel?" he asked. "We can just talk."

"Yeah." I was feeling a ton of emotions coursing through me. But I wanted more Mr. K time. "Sounds nice."

That seemed to relax him and put him in a good mood as we walked the few blocks to the nice, business-class residence hotel where he was staying. I couldn't help but sneak looks over his way. He just looked incredible in his suit, not a trim cut one like younger guys sometimes wore but it still flattered his build and height. In my mind, the suit made him look like one of those DC power players and in some messed up way that turned me on.

We weren't too chatty as he led me up to his room. It was fancy to my eyes but had that empty aura that hotel rooms do, even if Mr. K's luggage and belongings were around.

I was looking around the place when the man stepped up right behind me and wrapped his arms around my midsection. I smelled his cologne and felt his kisses along my neck. I guess we were going to do more than just talk.

"Oh, God, Mr. K," I hissed. This probably a record time for how fast I could throw hard. That boner was nearly instant.

"You can call me Mike," he said.

"OK," I said dumbly.

His hands traveled up and down my T-shirt. I was primed to be turned on by this man, but he was going to put me in heat.

"You OK with this, buddy?"

"You have no idea, Mist.. Mike" I replied.

My slip up got a chuckle from him. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of my shirt and the touch of his hand against my belly felt electric. "You have an amazing body, Luke."

"You too, sir," I replied.

He kissed some more along my neck and his voice got deeper, hoarser. "Do you suck cock, Luke Bowman?"

The grunt from the man was an indication I'd said the right thing. "I don't know that I'm good for all the other stuff," he said, "but I'd REALLY love to feel your mouth on me, buddy."

I knew what he meant. The man wasn't going to reciprocate, and I'd have to be fine with that. I was. "I don't need anything in return, Mike," I said. "I want to suck you."

He had that huge horndog grin on his face when I finally turned to face him. We were matched in height but he felt like my opposite in so many ways. Older, successful in his career, straight, though I was getting the fuller meaning of his "no labels" comment.

Especially as his face inched in and his lips met mine. I was kissing Rich Keenan's dad and the forbidden nature of that just added to my thrill. I took a second to feel up his sides, under the suit coat. Mr. K didn't object, he just went deeper with the kiss. Mike Keenan was a great kisser.

"You're a very handsome young man," Mr. K finally said as he pulled back.

"God, Mike," I grunted. This was every JO fantasy I'd had coming to life.

With that naughty look on his face, he reached down and started unzipping. I didn't even look down, not yet, but I could tell from his shoulder motion that he was hauling out his cock.

"Please, buddy," he hissed.

"Here?" I asked dumbly. In my hookups before BJs had been naked and on a bed.

"Here," he growled. This was that other side of Mr. K, the kind who hired sugar babies to get his needs taken care of.

I squatted down. I was a catcher for the Hoyas baseball team, so at least I had this motion down, I thought to myself.

Mike Keenan's cock was gorgeous. Big and meaty and cut but not overly long. It jerked and pulsed as he looked down on me.

"You done this before, right?" he asked. That concerned paternal voice coming out.

I nodded. "Some," I replied. "I wish I had more practice." Then with an honesty I probably shouldn't have had, I added, "I want this to be good for you, Mike."

He chucked and moved his hand to run through my hair. It was strangely affectionate. "You'll do great, buddy."

That was all the encouragement I needed. Leaning in, I could smell the mild, natural musk of a man's crotch, which was matched by Mr. K's saltiness as I began licking him. I gripped the base of his prick to steady it for my sucking, but I maybe didn't even need to do that. Mike was rock hard.

"Yes..." he hissed as I went down on him. I was still pretty green at sucking cock, but I was probably better than Kimberly or whatever sugar baby he'd lined up in the past. Or even the former Mrs. Keenan, I thought crudely.

That knowledge had me going for it. I swallowed four inches of the man in one go, held just a second to let my throat get used to it. Then I started going up and down. It took a second for me to get my rhythm and another for me to get the suction. But I knew I did by the urgency of the man's fingers in my hair, not exactly pushing me down on his crotch but aiding and guiding me in my bobbing motion. He was probably thinking of some chick while I blew him, but I was OK with that.

Only his next words broke me of that idea. "Luke, buddy... you're getting me there," he hissed. Mr. K was very present in this blowjob. I paused a second and looked up at him, and could see he was looking down at me.

I wanted to get him off. So I looked back forward and went for it. The best I could deliver. I hoped it was enough.

The fingers grew tighter. "Gonna cum... Don't pull off," Mike growled. "Please."

At that moment I felt bad for straight men. Even if I should have felt bad that Mr. K wasn't gonna suck me. I just felt any woman was stupid not to want to swallow Mike Keenan's cum.

"UNNFH!" came the sound of his release as he flooded my mouth and throat with his salty-sweet cum. Maybe Mike was backed up, but he was a heavy shooter all right. I accepted it all, swallowing it in waves as quickly as he fed it to me. I think my sucking sensation only added to his orgasm. He finally pulled out, prick wet and still hard.

"God fucking damn, buddy, that was great," he said with a satisfied smile. Then as he caught his breath and I stood up, he added, "Can I jerk you off or anything?"

That sounded great. "You got any lube?"

He nodded and walked over to the bathroom to root around his toiletries bag. He stepped back in, his prick softer but still sticking out. With a grin, he tossed me travel container of lube. "Don't be shy," he said.

I was already undoing my shorts, which fell to the floor. Then I peeled down my underwear, letting Mike see my hardon. It was a trip for me, being mostly naked in front of him. Maybe he wasn't gonna be fully gay for me, but he was open to seeing my dick as I squirted the liquid on my stalk and start stroking.

With a grin he stepped up to me, a little to the side, placing his hand on my belly and working up beneath my shirt as he met me for a kiss.

That's all it took. I didn't come instantly but instantly I began that climb to orgasm. Mr. Keenan's kiss and touch was the extra stimulation to get me there.

I moaned into his mouth as I shot my cum, shooting out onto the hotel carpet.

He broke the kiss when I was done and patted my chest. "You needed that, buddy," he said with satisfaction.

"I did," I nodded. "Thanks."

Things felt a little awkward now. I'd crossed some major lines with this guy that evening, and now that I'd gotten off I felt majorly self conscious about it.

"You OK, Luke?" he asked as we tucked back in.

"I'm OK, Mr. Keenan."

"You can NEVER tell Rich about what just happened," he said.

"You know I'm gonna keep everything private," I said. "You can trust me."

He nodded. "Why don't you get cleaned up. Feel like a drink? I have some scotch here or you can raid the mini bar."

I nodded. "I don't know anything about scotch, but you can teach me."

He chuckled. "All right."

It felt nice to just talk. Mr. K let me open up, about men and being gay and what I really wanted from dating and sex. The man talked about his very limited experience with guys when he was a teen.

"I should have figured men would be better at giving head," he said with a playful leer. "That was incredible, Luke. For real."

"I'm glad," I said. Maybe this wasn't a healthy hookup, but it had felt incredibly satisfying for me, a dream come true.

"You're going to make some dude VERY happy," he said with a smile.

"I hope so," I said with a defensive chuckle. "I hope he makes me happy too."

Mr. Keenan got what I meant. "Yeah, you deserve that," he said a little chastised. He polished off the last of his liquor in the rocks glass. "Listen, it's been a long day."

"Yeah, I'll head off," I said, drinking the rest of my scotch and standing up.

Mr. K pulled his walled out and fished out a couple of twenties. "Here you go... you're not taking the bus back. Especially at this hour."

I tried not to take it. "It's Ok, Mike," I said.

He shook his head. "Just get a fucking Uber, Luke. I insist."

"OK," I said, capitulating. The man could be bossy, and I didn't know whether I liked that or not.

He was quieter now, as he led me to the door but he said before I stepped out. "I'm gonna sleep like a baby tonight, buddy. Thanks."

"You too, sir."

[rottenblur]

study break|J.MILLER

Summary: BFD! Joel (best friend's dad) Moving to Texas for college seemed scary at first but after befriending your now best friend staying with her on the holidays with her father seemed exciting. Best friends! Dad Joel x fem reader. 1.4k chapter one out of ????

WARNINGS: Big girthy age gap. (the reader is 20 Joel is in the late forties) Slight smut, the reader getting felt up by Joel, making out with the intent of leading to sex. Risky horny makeout sesh with the reader and Joel almost getting caught by Tommy. Chapter two is smut. Unrequited pining by Tommy. Dirtyish talk by Joel.

“fuck you are somethin’ to see, making me do shit I shouldn’t. ya arent the good girl I thought ya were”

Walking into your Best friend Sarah's house, the first thing you noticed, in the house you had never stepped into before was her Dad sprawled out on the couch beer in hand. He was on the phone with someone, it seemed important by the way his face was scrunched up, his index and thumb squeezing him on his nose he seemed frustrated. He looked oddly hot in this state, you wondered what was upsetting him. Till he heard a pair of footsteps, turning around and unscrewing his face with relief “I gotta go, Sarah is home from college”.

Dropping his phone and standing up, walking over to her, and greeting her with a tight hug. You hold your arm gazing down at your feet awkwardly, gazing occasionally over at Joel and how his huge figure engulfs his daughter. Sarah looking at you and then at Joel “Oh this is my friend I told you about!” Sarah said. Excitingly pulling you towards her so Joel can get a look at you and say hi. Sarah smiled proudly at your presence. You look up at Joel's tall figure at least a foot taller than you think to yourself, your first thought about him was how handsome he was, not just for his age in general. you would pick him over any boy your age, your eyes panning to his salt and pepper beard matching his hair, it was messy in a cute way.

Then your eyes followed down to his chest, his arm the way that his t-shirt gripped around his muscles perfectly and deliciously, your eyes pan down to his crouch for a second then away. Realizing how long you have been staring at him you clear your throat awkwardly, “Hi um thank you for letting me stay for Christmas break I appreciate it, "Mr. Miller". Not knowing his name and trying to be polite you settled for “Mr. Miller”

Joel laughed quietly at your words, “It's no problem darlin’ you're a lot more polite than some of Sarah’s old high school friends”. He looked you up and down the air in the room seemed a lot thicker than it was, your knees seemed weak after that one glance at your body. Joel pokes at Sarah with a smirk on his face, Sarah's jaw drops at the teasing comment before nudging Joel.

“Ya'll want a beer er somethin’” looking at the two of you walking into the kitchen and pulling out three beers. You look at Sarah as she grabs one and opens it, Joel holding one up to you waiting for you to grab it. Sarah rolls her eyes while opening her mouth to speak “She doesn't drink she's too good for it, apparently”. Joel's face looks shocked at the comment.

“Oh I see you're a good girl, I've been catchin’ Sarah ‘nd her little friends drinking since high school. Rare for Sarah to be friends with such an angel”. You blush at him calling you “Good girl” your thighs squeezing together, you nervously laugh. grabbing the beer anyways “One won't hurt, plus it is a special occasion right?” you say.

Joel smiles along with Sarah “Attagirl” he whispered loud enough for you to notice his deep rough Texas accent, it weakens your knees even more, adding even more blush to your face. You take a sip of your beer. Sarah stands up clearing her throat, before walking to the stairs near the kitchen “This is nice Dad, but we should get unpacked. I'm exhausted from the drive here I'm heading to bed”.

You stand up and follow her lead upstairs. “Thank you um for the beer Mr. Miller” you awkwardly say before going up the stairs, he walks to the last step so you both could hear him “see ya girls.” Watching you go upstairs, just to take a peek at your ass. Sarah shows you to your room.

“I gave you the guest room thought you might want some space, to study and stuff since you're weird like that”. Walking to her room she whispers to herself “Who studies on a break” She laughs at her own words. You open the door as you hear Joel come up the stairs, approaching behind you before putting his hand on the knob on the door next to your room, for the time being. “I'm next door if ya need anythin’ holler.”

You smile at him and nod “Thanks mr miller”. You take one step in before Joel speaks “Please its Joel no need to be so shy darlin’”.

you close the door, sitting on the bed not bothering to unpack .“Joel Joel Joel” you think to yourself while putting on your pajama shorts and a top, a nice ring to it very moanable.

Fuck. Why are you already thinking this, you get in bed and try to go to sleep. He's all you can think about for hours, it's now 2:30 am you've been laying there for three hours trying to get him off your mind, occasionally going on your phone to distract yourself.

it doesn't work. You get up and tip-toe downstairs knowing how much of a light sleeper Sarah is trying not to disturb her sleep, you walk into the dark kitchen grabbing a glass of water, and sip it while leaning on the counter.

You hear the backdoor slide open and you jump, you see Joel walk in smelling like cigarettes and whiskey. Standing across from you, looking you up and down again this time slower, getting a mental picture of your body. His voice cuts through the air “Can't sleep?” you look up at his eyes.

“Yeah summers in texas make me lose any sort of sleep schedule at all” giggling quietly, adding “I'm from up more north just came here for college”. Turning around to put your glass in the sink, you can feel his eyes staring at your ass.

“Is that why you wear that lil skimpy pj set darlin, er just tryin’ to get my attention?”. You turn around with a blush covering your cheeks, stumbling on your words “Um I don't know Mr. Miller”. He steps closer to you holding your waist now “I told ya darlin’ call me Joel.”

He says sternly before leaning into your neck and kissing it. The kiss made your knees weak and your panties wet you whimper. “Yes Joel” is all you mutter out. He kisses up your neck to your jaw then pulls back to stare at your face, then your lips.

“fuck you are somethin’ to see, making me do shit I shouldn’t, ya arent the good girl I thought ya were”.

Biting his lip like he's trying to hold himself back before plunging his lips against yours kissing you roughly, holding your jaw to open your mouth to let him in, kissing you deeper and rougher. He pulls back for air then pushes you against him tightly, connecting your lips to his again.

You can feel the hardness in his pants begging to be in you and his wet tongue all in your mouth. You wrap your arms around this thick figure, the front door opens a voice walks towards the kitchen.

“Fuck man. Worse shift ever they had me doing the most, useless shit-“. He cuts off his train of thought, as he sees two figures in the dark kitchen. Joel pulled away and leaned against the island across from you, hiding the bulge in his pants staring at him with a frustrated look in his eyes.

Tommy looks at your pushed-down pajama shirt strap, then Joel's blushed cheeks. “My my who is this little pretty thing you dragged home, I'm Tommy by the way”. He winks at you and looks you up and down "Oh? There's two of them." you think to yourself.

“.. Joel's brother”. He was handsome and shorter than Joel, younger too. Joel clears his throat and speaks. “She's just Sarah's friend from college”. Looking at Tommy with a dark look, Tommy gets the vibe to get the fuck upstairs and stop bothering you.

“She was just going upstairs right darlin’”. "Fuck" you think to yourself, walking past Tommy. He watches you go up the stairs to look at your ass…Smiling to yourself from all the attention from both brothers. “g’night Sweet thing”

Joel mutters. Walking up to his room leaving Tommy in the kitchen by himself, with a hard-on. You walk into your room and finally go to sleep…

Part two here

my masterlist

an note! this is my first posted fanfic enjoy:) there will be more chapters to come if this gets any attention. i wrote this months and just decided to post it lmao

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: references to PTSD and SA, language, soft and fluffy Joel, some mild sexual references

Chapter Eighteen

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

Tommy slid down from his horse as the other four members of his party glanced at him curiously and lowered their weapons. He stomped across the road with his eyes locked on Joel, looking him over before breaking out into a huge grin. Joel was frozen to the ground in disbelief, wondering if he had finally lost his mind until Tommy's arms wrapped around him. When he felt his brother's embrace, he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled him further into the hug, swaying back and forth and clapping his back.

You stood behind Joel and watched as the brothers reunited. Tommy's face was lit up, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears, not yet registering your presence. Joel's eyes were closed, but you could read him like a book, relief written all over his face. He was smiling into Tommy's shoulder, unable to keep his tough guy act up through his happiness, and you couldn't help but smile, yourself. It's been a long time since you saw him this elated. He had suffered a lot over the past year right along with you, and now, finally, something was going right. Your mind flickered back to your parents and what it would have been like, if you were able to reunite with them this way. It brought a sadness to your face, which you quickly wiped away when the brothers finally broke their hug.

"How in the hell did'ya make it all the way out here?" Tommy asked. Joel rubbed the back of his neck and cast a glance in your direction.

"Had some help," he said, still smiling, and Tommy finally turned his attention to you. You could see the realization slowly register as he recognized you. He gave you a half smile and shook his finger in your direction, then glanced back quickly at Joel, giving him a sly look before meeting your gaze once again, saying your name. You were surprised he even knew your name before the outbreak, let alone remembered it now.

"Hey... Mr. Miller," you said awkwardly. Tommy laughed and shook his head, heading towards you with his arms spread wide.

"I think you can call me 'Tommy', darlin'. I ain't your boss anymore." Your body tensed as you saw him about to envelop you into a hug, but fortunately Joel was two steps ahead and swooped in front of you, clasping his arms around Tommy again, cutting him off.

"I can't believe it's really you. C'mere," Joel said, trying to smooth it over. You could see Tommy's confused smile as he looked at Joel, but he let it go. He pulled back and waved the others over who were watching from the tree line with amused expressions. They slid off their horses and left them to graze as they strolled over to join you.

Tommy introduced you both to his group. Maria was the presumed leader, a beautiful woman with ebony skin and a quick wit. Also with them was a man who looked to be in his mid-50s with salt and pepper hair named Eugene, another man probably a little older named Seth, and a younger man with black hair named Jesse. Now that there was no threat, they all seemed very welcoming and pleasant. You noticed Maria caught your eye a few times, inspecting you closely, but you didn't get a bad feeling from her the way you did with Amy. You picked up a protective instinct, like she was concerned about you.

You all stood around in a circle as Tommy explained where his group lived. It was a place called Jackson not too far from where you were standing. There were about 30 people or so developing a sanctuary around a once gated community that existed there. As Tommy droned on about the advancements they were making with the place, Maria sidled up to you.

"Hey," she said, giving you a warm smile.

"Hey," you said back. "Thanks for not shooting us." She laughed, a sound that brought a genuine smile to your face, which Joel noticed when he turned his head briefly at the sound before focusing back on Tommy.

"Sorry about that. We are all bark and very little bite. The place we are building is in the middle of nowhere, and we'd like to keep it off the radar. Keep it safe," you nodded in understanding as she continued.

"We have a great group of people so far. It's really starting to feel like before. Like, life can be somewhat normal again."

"You really believe that?" you asked her before you could consider your words. "I don't mean any offense, but we've been traveling for a while. The QZs and other... places. They all think they can make it work, but there's always a catch."

Maria regarded you carefully, as if she confirmed something she already suspected.

"It's safe. It's not like those places. We are incredibly careful about who we let in. We haven't had to yet, but if need be, by democratic vote, if anyone steps out of line, they're out." The way her stare bored into you made it feel like she was trying to tell you something. Like she was trying to convey a message, and you were beginning to figure it out. Your eyes shifted back to the group of men chatting away, Joel's gaze frequently finding its way back to you to make sure you were alright. Maria took a step closer, but she didn't place a finger on you, giving you space.

"When did it happen?" she asked you quietly.

You sucked in a breath through your teeth and stared at the ground. You kicked at a weed sticking up through the dirt, trying to buy yourself some time.

"How did you know?" you asked without looking up.

"I used to be an Assistant District Attorney in Omaha," she said lowly, making sure the men didn't overhear. "I saw a lot of women like you come through my office. I prosecuted hundreds of men on sexual assault. And I've witnessed the aftermath... I guess I'm just sensitive to it now."

You nodded, blinking back tears as you stared at the ground.

"There was another community," you whispered. "They had a... system. That we were not told about when we joined." You looked up at Maria and you could see the disgust in her face. "The women were expected to..." you trailed off and she nodded, holding her hand up to cut you off.

"I can figure out the rest," she said. "No need to rehash it. When?"

"Umm," you took a shaky breath and looked up at the sky, the crisp fall air making your cheeks rosy. "Few months ago, I guess."

As if he could sense your energy, Joel turned his head to look at you, then Maria, then back at you, waiting until you met his eyes. You did, and you nodded to him, letting him know you were ok. He gave you one last look before turning his attention back to Tommy.

"Are you and him...?" Maria asked, catching Joel's looks in your direction. You nodded and finally met her gaze.

"Yeah. We all knew each other before. They were technically my bosses, although saying that now sounds so strange." You couldn't help but laugh at how much has changed in a year. "But he and I... that didn't happen til after. Well, kind of. It's a long story." She rolled her eyes and smiled.

"It always is." You smiled and bit your lip, then she asked, "Does he take care of you?"

You looked back over your shoulder at Joel while he laughed at something Tommy said. You nodded and turned back to Maria.

"Yeah," you said, "he takes care of me. He... he saved me. In more ways than one."

Maria nodded at your words, as if it was all she needed to hear.

"Join us," she said. "Both of you. We could use another contractor, and I think you'd really like it. It can be a home, if you help us."

Your thoughts drifted to Yellowstone, to the imaginary house Joel would fix up for you to live, just the two of you. Maybe on the edge of a beautiful lake, surrounded by trees and wildlife. But then you remembered Joel's face when he held his brother, and your chest ached. You would have given anything to hug your parents again. And you knew you couldn't take that away from him. You nodded.

“Yeah. Let me talk to him first,” you jutted your chin in Joel’s direction. “But… yeah. Thank you.” And you really meant it. You tried not to let your hopes get too high, but for the first time in a very long time, you were beginning to feel optimistic.

Maria took a couple steps towards the men and touched Tommy’s shoulder. He immediately swiveled in her direction, and you could see the adoration in his eyes when he looked at her. You smiled to yourself as Joel sidestepped to stand next to you.

“What’re you smilin’ for?” he murmured. You nodded your head gently in Tommy’s direction while Maria spoke softly to him, the other men carrying on a conversation amongst themselves a few feet away. He looked at his brother and then back at you, confused.

“He likes her,” you whispered, and Joel scrunched his eyebrows together.

“You think?” he said, stealing a glance back in Tommy’s direction. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I do think,” you said, gently poking him with your elbow, and he grinned.

“That the same way I look at you?” he asked you, still grinning. You blushed and nodded.

“Kind of.”

Your eyes landed back on Maria, and you exchanged glances. You placed your hand on Joel’s elbow, tearing his eyes away from his brother.

“Let’s go talk for a second,” you told him, leading him a few feet away to lean against a guardrail. He settled in next to you and looked down, the sun radiating behind him in the sky, warming your face.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” he began. “Don’t worry. I ain’t gonna ask to join them, we can stick to our plan. And maybe every so often we can go visit Tommy, it’s probably only a few days walk. That is, if you’re up for it.”

The look he gave you was so sincere that it made your throat tighten. He really was willing to leave his brother, the only family he had left, just to be with you like he promised. You swallowed thickly, your emotions getting the best of you. His eyes trailed up and down your face and noticed your eyes begin to water. He reached a hand up to cup your face and stroked his thumb along your cheek.

"You'd do that for me?" you whispered, and he nodded.

"'Course I would. What's wrong?" He was confused now, his brow furrowed.

"What if I wanted to give this place a chance?" you said, bringing your hand up to his and pulling it from your face, interlocking your fingers together. He glanced over your shoulder at Tommy and Maria, who were trying not to watch your conversation.

"I'm not - I don't know if you bein' in a situation like that again is the best idea..." he trailed off and cleared his throat, struggling to find the words. "I mean, do you really think you're ready for somethin' like that?"

You sighed and shrugged your shoulders.

"I don't know. But I don't think the answer is isolating ourselves forever because one bad thing happened," you stroked your thumb over the top of his hand and looked past his shoulder at the abandoned road that would ultimately lead to Yellowstone.

"Besides, I have a good feeling about this place. Tommy, Maria... I trust them. If we were to ever join a community, this would be it. We can help them build something, Joel." You squeezed his hand, and he shook his head, still unsure. The past few months, he was so absorbed in protecting you, making you feel safe, and giving you a place to heal that he couldn't bring himself to let his guard down, even for his own brother. But hearing you say you wanted to do this, wanted to try again in a community after you had been let down, made his walls start to crack. He hung his head, tucking his chin into his chest as he listened to you.

"I would feel safe with you and Tommy. But it's up to you. If you don't want to -"

He brought his hand up from his side to gently clasp the back of your neck, pulling you towards him to rest his forehead on yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as the soft exhale from his nose fanned over your face.

"You sure?" he asked so softly, you almost didn't hear him. You nodded and opened your eyes to find him staring at you, trying to read your face. The small wrinkles around his eyes scrunched and his eyebrows pinched together in thought.

"Yes, I'm sure. I want to do this." His eyes closed and you leaned forward to quickly press your lips on his, feeling Tommy and Maria’s gaze on your back. His eyes reopened when you pulled away. Joel grinned down at you and grasped your hand to lead you back over to the group. Joel cleared his throat to speak, but Tommy cut him off.

"C'mon, let's go show that girl of yours her new home," he said with a shit-eating grin, and you hoped they would blame the cold air for the redness on your cheeks. There was still something surreal about seeing these two men together again in such a different world.

Tommy handed the reins to his horse to Joel so the two of you could ride back together, and he joined Maria on the back of her horse. You pinched Joel's side when you saw who Tommy chose to ride with, and he smiled, shaking his head.

It turned out that Jackson was only about an hour from where they had found you on the road. You weren't sure what you were expecting. Maybe another big, abandoned building with tiny rooms, but you were never expecting an actual town. Not only a town, but a town with walls. Well, most of the wall was done. There were a few small areas that were under construction still. Maria explained that in order to keep the town safe, everyone took turns guarding the opening of the fence. She expected it to be completed soon, and gave Joel a look.

You had dropped your horses off at the stables. The three men, Jesse, Seth and Eugene offered to tend to the animals while Maria and Tommy showed you both around. There wasn't much to see yet, it looked like a regular town that was in the process of being remodeled, but you could see the vision as Maria walked and pointed at each building lining Main Street.

"That area over there used to be a gated community, so the handful of us cleared it out and set up camp. Then, we slowly expanded, and began coming up with an idea for the town," Maria paused to give a young woman a wave and a smile as she walked. "It worked out. We had somewhere safe to go while we built out the wall further to surround this part of town. We are also currently working on expanding the wall over that cluster of houses over there," she pointed to an area further back down the road that was currently barricaded, then she stopped in front of what used to be a bar.

"This is our kitchen and dining hall, come on in and take a look."

Maria led you through the doors of the Tipsy Bison and headed back to the kitchen with Tommy to find you some food. You spun around to take in all the American western decor hanging from the walls when you felt Joel's hand on the small of your back. His beard tickled the shell of your ear as he leaned into you.

"You just say the word if this ain’t what you want, you hear me?"

You spun around to face him and mockingly put your hands on your hips.

"Joel," you said flatly, "this place is incredible." A smile threatened the corners of his mouth, and he turned his head to gaze out of the window to hide it.

"Lotta work that needs to be done," he muttered. You glanced around to make sure you were still alone, then took a step forward, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your chin on his chest, gazing up at him.

"I love you," you whispered, and that finally pulled the smile across his face, leaning down to kiss you. His lips were chapped from the wind and his beard tickled your nose, but you didn't care. You slotted your lips in between his and gave the bottom one a tug when he tried to pull away. You could feel his surprise, then his hands came up to cup your face gently, pulling you back.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked you inquisitively as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. You shrugged.

"Just happy, I guess," you said. His hand froze on your face and looked down to study you, as if he were trying to decide if you were telling the truth or not. Whatever he saw made his eyes light up and his mouth came crashing down on yours, tugging your chin up higher as his lips pressed firmly against your own. For the first time in a long time, he tested the waters and licked at your lips, very quickly, assuring you it was alright not to take things further. But you opened your mouth for him immediately, and your tongues danced together in a frenzy. You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck to bring him further down, closer to you. He moaned softly into your mouth, and you felt a stirring in your lower abdomen you haven't felt in months. You continued to lick feverishly into his mouth as both his hands came up to the sides of your head, his thumbs gently pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks.

"Ahem," Tommy said from behind the bar. You went to throw yourself backwards, but Joel snagged your waist, keeping you pressed against him, your cheeks burning hot as you lightly panted for breath. Tommy smirked at Joel, absolutely loving the uncomfortable position he put his older brother in.

"Great timin', as always," Joel grumbled, but you could tell he wasn't actually mad. Maria came around the corner with two bowls of stew, unfazed by Joel's grip on your waist. She placed them on the counter and invited you both to sit. Joel released his grip and nudged you forward first so he could follow behind, trying to hide the growing erection in his jeans.

You both expressed your gratitude and began to eat, enjoying the way the stew was warming you up.

"So, here's the deal," Maria began, and you paused briefly to listen. "We don't have a house ready for you yet. It might be a couple months. The homes we have now are all spoken for, and we need to finish the wall around the others before we can assign you one," Maria shot Joel a quick glance. "Maybe you can help us build the wall, and we can get you a house faster."

"'Course I'll help," Joel said, scooping the last of the stew into his mouth. Maria smiled, happy to have another contractor’s assistance.

"In the meantime, why don't you both stay with Tommy? He's got a big house. You have the room, don't you?" Maria placed a hand on Tommy's arm and gave him a small smile, and you watched him nearly melt.

"S-sure, not a problem," he stuttered, then cleared his throat and straightened up. "So long as you two can keep your hands off each other," he teased, trying to steer the attention away from him. Your cheeks flamed hot as you looked down at your nearly empty bowl. Joel met Tommy's eyes when you weren't looking and glared, trying to silently tell him to knock it off.

Maria elbowed Tommy in the ribs before saying your name and dragging your attention back to her.

"How do you feel about helping out in the kitchen?" Your eyes widened and you felt your chest constrict. You shifted your gaze around, trying to hide your reaction, but Joel placed a hand gently on your knee.

"Do you got anythin' outside?" Joel asked her, much to your relief. You let out a small, shaky breath when she answered.

"Yeah, of course. How about the greenhouse? We just got it up and running, we could use the help planting and tending to the vegetables." You nodded enthusiastically.

"That sounds great, thank you," you said.

Tommy's house was cozy, but you could tell most of the decorating was done by whoever had the house before the outbreak. When you walked through the front door, there was a small living room to your right and the kitchen to your left. The master bedroom was off the kitchen and two bedrooms with a bathroom upstairs. Tommy led you both through the living room and pointed up the staircase.

"Make yourselves at home, I don't have hardly anythin' up there. I'll grab a fresh set of sheets from my room - you need anythin' else?" You shook your head and expressed your thanks as you headed up the stairs. Joel clapped a hand on Tommy's shoulder, nodding as he moved to follow you, but Tommy grabbed his arm, and Joel stopped.

"You gonna tell me what happened some day?" Tommy murmured so you wouldn't hear. Joel's mind immediately drifted to your assault, and he tensed, his jaw clenched.

"How in the hell did you two end up together? Was she... at your place, or somethin', that day?" Tommy clarified his original question, and Joel relaxed, letting out a puff of air.

"Nah, nothin' like that. We were at work when it happened." He glanced up the stairs, eager to follow after you.

"So, how did you end up findin' each other? I mean, were there a bunch of you from the office at first?" Tommy crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the railing. Joel shook his head and ran a hand over his beard.

"I was chasin' after her down the street. She quit, I was tryin' to make her stay. Then these soldiers rolled up to the office and started shootin', and we just took off." Tommy's eyebrows shot up.

"Shit. I picked a hell of a time for a work trip, huh?" He chuckled and shook his head, then frowned. "Why'd she quit? I thought for sure you two were hittin' it off." Joel groaned and lifted a foot to rest on the bottom stair.

"I was bein' an asshole,” he admitted, and Tommy laughed.

"Man, you always were a charmer," Tommy's eyes twinkled. "But seriously, I'm glad you're both safe, I never thought I'd see you again," he said.

"Me, too. And thanks again, for takin' us in, I mean. I think this'll be really good for her." Joel gave his brother a small smile. Tommy waved him off.

"Alright, get upstairs and go rest. We'll swap stories another day. Dinner's served at 7, we can all go over together and I'll introduce you around." Tommy turned to head back to his room. "I'll bring those sheets up in a minute," he added over his shoulder as Joel ascended the stairs.

You were sitting cross-legged with your backpack on the floor, picking out what few clothes and belongings you had, when Joel entered the room.

"Everything alright?" you asked. Joel shrugged his backpack off his shoulders and leaned it against the bed, which was bare except for the mattress.

"Yeah, he's just got some questions," he told you, flopping down on the mattress with a grunt.

"I imagine he's got a lot of those," you murmured, and stood to open the closet for some hangers. You saw a comforter in a plastic bag on the shelf, along with a few pillows. His eyes were already locked on you when you turned around to toss the items on the mattress next to him.

"I didn't tell him," he said quietly, and you stilled, knowing exactly what he was referring to.

"Well, Maria already knows, so he will find out soon enough, anyway," you said, turning back to the closet to grab the hangers. Joel sat up on the edge of the mattress.

"Oh. I didn't know," he said, scratching his beard. "You, uh... does that help? Talkin' about it with another woman?" You could tell he was being careful, trying not to ruin your mood when the day was going so well. You dropped the handful of hangers on the rug next to your shirts before responding.

"We didn't talk about it much, she could just tell, I guess. She said she used to be around a lot of people in my situation when she was a lawyer." You chewed your lip in thought. "Maybe, though. Maybe it does help, a little. I'm not sure yet."

Joel nodded as he rubbed his palms against his legs.

"Good. That's good." He swallowed roughly, looking around the bedroom, then he gestured at the walls.

"We gotta get rid of these pictures, they're awful," and you laughed, looking at what only could be described as hotel art mixed with framed pictures of people you will never know.

"Yeah? And what would Joel Miller pick out to decorate his room, if he didn't hire an interior decorator to do it for him?" you teased, and he pretended to be offended.

"Hey, now. I got good taste," he said as you took a few steps forward to stand in between his legs. You rested your hands on the tops of his shoulders and looked down at him, still sitting on the bare mattress.

"Oh, yeah?" you murmured, fiddling with the collar on his flannel.

"Mhmm," he said, bringing his hands to rest on the back of your thighs, near the backs of your knees, gauging your reaction before giving a gentle squeeze. "You bein' the perfect example of that."

You let out a huff at his corny line and rolled your eyes playfully as he smirked up at you. Neither of you heard Tommy come up the steps and pause outside the door, taking a step back so Joel wouldn't see him. He wasn't used to seeing his brother smile so much, finding it ironic that it took the world to end for Joel to finally be happy. He was about to knock on the door and hand over the sheets when Joel spoke softly.

"I love you, sweetheart," he looked up at you, his eyes bright and his gaze soft. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy. Y'know that, right?"

You nodded and leaned forward to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"I am happy," you whispered. "Stop worrying about me so much."

Tommy quietly placed the sheets on the table in the hallway and crept back downstairs, this time choosing not to intrude.

Joel hummed as he rested the side of his face against your stomach, closing his eyes.

"Always gonna worry about you," he murmured into your shirt.

You raked your fingers through his long curls, scraping your nails gently over his scalp.

"You should worry about getting a haircut," you teased, tugging on his hair so he would lift his head from your stomach.

You took a step back out from between his legs, and he begrudgingly let his hands fall from the backs of your thighs.

"Why don't you go see where those sheets are, and I'll hang up our clothes?"

Joel sighed and braced his hands on his knees before standing up with a grunt. Right before turning to head down the stairs, he noticed the sheets placed on the table, with Tommy nowhere to be found. His brows furrowed before he picked them up and walked back into the room, fluffing out the fitted sheet.

"That was fast," you said, glancing over your shoulder as you hung up your thermal long sleeve shirts in the closet.

"Yeah, Tommy left 'em in the hall. Guess I didn't hear him come up," he explained, pulling the corner tight over the mattress.

"Oh, god," you groaned, and he looked up at you from his spot on the floor next to the bed. "He probably really does think we can't keep our hands off each other."

Joel shrugged and stood to flick the top sheet over the bed, adjusting it as it fluttered down.

"He only said that to get under my skin, try to embarrass me or somethin'. Just ignore it."

You watched him from the closet as he tucked the sheet under one side of the mattress, then the other side, and finished up at the foot of the bed. Before you could even say anything, Joel stopped you.

"Get outta that pretty head of yours, it ain't that serious," he shot you a grin and bent over to unzip the bag around the comforter, shaking it out a bit before tossing it on the bed.

"I don't know. It's kind of serious," you said quietly as you began to rifle through Joel's backpack, lifting all his shirts out and draping them over your arm.

"Why? Who cares what he thinks?" Joel asked, pausing as he was shoving a pillow into a pillowcase to scrunch his eyebrows at you. You flicked your gaze up to him awkwardly before looking back into his bag, then he realized what you meant. You weren't talking about Tommy.

"Oh," he said softly. "Y'know that don't bother me, it's fine."

"I appreciate that, but it's not fine, Joel," you replied, focusing very intently on hanging up his shirts so you wouldn't have to look at him.

"Hey, c'mon, I didn't mean it like that," he abandoned the pillow and strode over to your side of the room, putting his hand on your back. "I just meant that I'm fine with it."

"I know, I'm sorry," you sighed and turned to face him. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Nothin' to apologize for," he said as he skimmed his thumb over your lower lip. "Got everythin' I want right here." You rolled your eyes at him, knowing he was just telling you what you wanted to hear, but you weren't going to push it.

"Now, I've been dyin' to sleep on a mattress, my back's killin' me. How about we take a quick nap before dinner?"

"Sure," you said as you helped him shove the last of the pillows into their cases. He collapsed on the bed with a throaty groan of relief and shut his eyes.

"I'm just going to unpack a few more things, then I'll join you," you told him, and he nodded, half asleep already. You grabbed what few toiletries you had and placed them on the counter in the bathroom, then brought your eyes up to look into the mirror. For once, your hair didn't look too frizzy, having pulled it back into a neat ponytail that morning. You noticed the bags under your eyes that you didn't remember looking that heavy before, and your lips were chapped. Definitely a different look from a year ago.

You walked back into the bedroom and slid under the covers on your side of the bed, listening to Joel's heavy breathing and watching the slow rise and fall of his broad chest. You turned your head to stare straight up at the ceiling, sleep escaping you as you replayed your last conversation with Joel over in your mind until it was time for dinner.

After eating, Tommy dragged you both around the dining room to meet the rest of the group. There were about 20 or 25 people you hadn't met yet, and by the end of the introductions, your head was swimming. You weren't sure if it was due to your arrival, or if it was like this every night, but once dinner was cleaned up, the town broke out into informal groups throughout the room, sharing drinks and laughs amongst each other. Tommy slid a glass of whiskey into Joel's hand, and he looked down at it incredulously.

"We got all the essentials here, brother," Tommy clapped Joel's shoulder as he took a sip and nodded towards you. "What'll you have, darlin'?"

"Oh! Uh, I'm fine, thanks. It's been a long day, maybe another time," you replied. Tommy smiled and picked up his own glass of whiskey, clinking his glass against Joel's before taking a sip. He was about to say something when his gaze fixed over your shoulder, and he swallowed nervously. You hid your smile, knowing when you turned around you would find Maria.

"Hey there, how's your first day been? Tommy set you up with everything you need?" Maria asked, sidling up between you and Joel.

"He has now," Joel joked, raising his glass and taking another sip. "Thank you again, ma'am. This place you got here is incredible."

Maria's eyes sparkled with pride as she glanced around the room at the groups of people laughing and smiling.

"We got a long way to go, but I have faith we will get there," she replied. She and Tommy exchanged furtive glances and looked away quickly.

"Maria, why don't we leave these boys to have some alone time, let's go get a drink," Maria smiled excitedly at your suggestion. As you were about to turn away, Joel stopped you.

"Thought you weren't drinkin' tonight?"

"I changed my mind," and you gave him a quick wink before turning and heading further down the bar, finding two empty stools. Jackson had a lot of things, but they were light on the mixers, so you each had vodka on the rocks, wincing as the liquid burned your throat.

"Oof, it's been a long time since I've had anything to drink," you admitted, setting the glass down. Maria nodded, setting hers down as well.

"I don't usually drink too often, but today's a special occasion, so why not," she gave you a warm smile that you quickly returned. You were growing very fond of Maria. You could understand what Tommy saw in her. She was bold, brave, outspoken, honest, and above all else, beautiful.

"So, you're like, the leader here, right?" you began, settling in to learn more about her.

"By default, I suppose. But as the town grows, we will need to figure out a new system. It's already getting to the point where it's difficult for just one person to manage everything. I'm thinking one day of instituting a town council, an odd number of elected people to vote in the town's best interest, oversee any projects and work assignments," she explained as you took another sip of your drink.

It was just then you realized: there were lights on. Actual, honest to goodness, electricity.

"Oh my god," you said, covering your mouth in embarrassment. "I must be exhausted. I can't believe I just noticed you have power running through the town?" She laughed and nodded.

"Yes! And sewage. And plumbing, as of two weeks ago," your mouth dropped as she continued. "There's a dam nearby that we draw the power from to run everything. A few months back - Dan over there," she pointed to a man with brownish hair and a beard who looked to be around Joel's age. "We found him half dead in the mountains. Turned out he used to be a plumber. Once he rested up, he was so eager to help us that he spent every waking minute working on the plumbing for the town so we could have running water. No more bathing in cold streams for us."

You sipped from your glass, the alcohol going down smoother now. You couldn't believe the advancements they have made in just one short year.

You noticed that Maria glanced over your shoulder and tried to hide a smile. You turned in your seat to see Tommy and Joel at the table where you left them, their eyes glued to the pair of you.

"So," you began, and Maria could already tell where you were going with a playful eyeroll. "Tommy?" She took a longer sip from her drink before answering.

"It's nothing official. We just… kissed. A couple times," your eyebrows shot up and a grin spread across your face as she shook her head and waved you off.

"I don't have time for a relationship, I have so much to do around town, I can't commit to someone right now," she explained, casting her eyes down to the glass in her hand.

"Oh, come on. You can't put off a relationship for "the town". Your happiness is just as important as everyone else's," you told her.

She shrugged as she took another sip.

"What if we helped you?" you offered. The vodka was making your brain fuzzy, and you just wanted Maria and Tommy to be happy.

"How?" she asked, mostly sarcastically, but you could tell she was intrigued by your idea.

"Well, what if Joel oversaw all the construction in Jackson. Scheduled the work assignments, prioritized the labor. And maybe Tommy could be in charge of patrols: all the organizing and scheduling." Her eyes shot up to meet yours as she considered your offer.

"That would... free up some time. But that's asking a lot, Joel just got here, and Tommy -" you cut her off.

"Joel's used to it, that's what he did for a living before all," you waved your hands around. "This. He would be happy to help. And Tommy?" You huffed and shot a glance back over your shoulder. "He would do anything for you."

You could tell Maria was embarrassed at the last part, smiling and busying herself with stirring her drink. But she nodded.

"Alright. That's not a bad idea. I'll talk to Tommy in the morning, see if he's ok with it."

"Oh, he'll be ok with it," you laughed as you took another healthy sip from your glass. "I'll tell Joel to find you in the morning and you can explain to him whatever he needs to do. I promise, he'll do it."

She nodded and thanked you, allowing a comfortable silence to come over the two of you as you glanced around the room, absorbing the atmosphere.

"Tell me if I'm out of line," Maria began hesitantly, "but... how are you doing? Do you want to talk about what happened?"

You sighed and met her gaze.

"Thanks. I don't really want to give it any more thought than I already do. I just wish..." you trailed off, but Maria gently encouraged you to continue. "I just wish it didn't affect that part of my relationship. With Joel." You could feel your cheeks flush as you took another sip from your glass for courage.

"Ah," Maria said knowingly, nodding her head. "It's not uncommon. You just need to take your time and do what's best for you on your own terms. Does he... understand that?"

"Oh, yes," you said quickly, and she nodded her head in relief. "Yes, he's... great. He never pressures me, he's even careful about how and where he touches me. I just feel guilty, you know?"

"Yes, I do. You need to listen to yourself and make that decision on your own. Don't do it tonight because you're drinking, either, you’ll regret that," she warned, and you agreed. "If he really understands and he really loves you, he will wait until you're ready."

You smiled and she held up a hand to hover over your own that was resting on the bar.

"May I?" she asked, searching your eyes. You nodded, and she rested her hand on top of yours. You didn't see it, but from across the dining hall, Joel's breath hitched in his throat, seeing Maria touch you, and waited for your reaction, but none came.

"If you ever want to talk, about this, or... anything," Maria said, looking you dead in the eye, "you come to me, is that clear?" You nodded and gave her a smile, relief flooding over you at her touch as she rubbed her thumb reassuringly over the top of your hand. You turned your hand upwards and grasped hers, and she smiled in return.

"And if you ever want to talk, about Tommy, or... anything," you joked, and she giggled. "You come to me! Understand?" She nodded and squeezed your hand affectionately.

"Deal," she said, and you released her hand and grabbed your drinks, clinking the glasses together and finishing what was left in yours.

"Do you want another?" she asked, but you shook your head.

"It's been a long day, I think I will head back to Tommy's," you said, standing up from the stool, slightly unsteady. Lightweight.

"Alright, let me walk you back," she suggested, looping your arm in hers.

"Wait, I need to tell Joel," you said, and pulled her towards the table where he and Tommy sat, talking about Tommy's experience when the outbreak hit.

"I'm gonna head back," you told him, your arm still linked with Maria's. "I'm tired."

"Alright, I'll come with you," he said, flattening his palms against the table to stand, but you held your hand out.

"Why don't you stay with Tommy and catch up? Maria can walk me home," you turned to her with a smile that she returned.

He gave you a knowing look and cleared his throat.

"You sure?" he asked, clearly uneasy about you leaving his sight. You nodded.

"One hundred percent. Stay," you told him firmly, and he sat back down in his chair. "Spend time with your brother." Tommy shot you a grateful smile, but you missed it, trying to assure Joel through your gaze. "It's okay," you added softly, and he slowly nodded.

"I won't be long," he promised, and you waved him off.

"Take as much time as you want, I'm just going to fall asleep the minute I get back." If it wasn't for Joel witnessing your interactions with Maria, he would have insisted on leaving with you.

"Alright, then," Joel said, and you tossed him a wave as Maria pulled you towards the door and down the street.

Joel stumbled into bed a few hours later, trying his best to be quiet and not wake you, but he failed. You turned over as he sunk into the mattress, pulling gently on the covers.

"Have fun?" you mumbled sleepily, and he reached out to you, pulling you up against his chest.

"Yeah, how 'bout you?" he asked, smelling the whiskey on his breath. You nodded.

"Yeah, it was nice," you tucked your head under his chin and buried your face into his bare chest. He ran his hands up and down your back, pressing you against him as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Did you talk about me?" you asked him with a smirk he couldn't see.

"Little bit," he admitted, kissing the crown of your head. "Did’ya talk about me?"

"Mhmm," you said, breathing in deeply. "I may have signed you up for a leadership job."

The rubbing on your back paused.

"What?"

You pulled back to look him in the eyes.

"Maria needs the help, Joel," you told him, "I said you could oversee the construction. Not right away, but once you get the hang of things... isn't it what you used to do back at work, anyway?"

He smirked and pulled you back against his chest.

"We been here less than a day and you're already findin' stuff for me to do," he tutted, and you smiled. "Nah, it's fine. If you're happy here, I'll do whatever it takes to keep this place runnin'." He placed another tender kiss on the crown of your head as his hands started back up again.

The alcohol in your system urged you to reach down to his waistband, but Maria's earlier words floated across your mind, and you refrained. Instead, you trailed kisses against his chest that slowly lead up to his throat. He must have been holding his breath because he exhaled heavily when your lips finally reached his Adam's Apple. You made your way to the underside of his jaw when he finally spoke.

"Easy there, sweetheart," he said, his voice strained, and he swallowed when you nipped at his jaw.

"Sorry," you whispered, pulling back. You noticed he purposely was tilting his hips further away from you under the covers. "I just miss you. So much." He groaned.

"Me too. But I need to know you're okay first." He rubbed his thumb in circles against your arm, his pupils blown wide as he gazed down at you. "There's no rush."

You wished nothing more than to give in at that moment, but you knew it would be a mistake. So instead, you tucked your head back under his chin and he pulled you close, his back falling against the mattress as you stretched your arm across his warm chest and nuzzled your face into his neck.

You fell asleep that night wrapped in each other’s arms, the peace of mind of knowing you were finally safe lulled you both into the deepest sleep you've had in months.

Extra Scene

Chapter Nineteen

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