#six x sarah

[ll-but-its-random]

My propaganda for the first group of LL ship brackets:

@adamussutekh

Round 1:

Okay Jarah is actually kind of underrated these days.

Like, yes, it might've just started with 'ooh, she's pretty' and yes, Pittacus may have used Sarah as character development, BUT EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN???

Book 3-6 John and Sarah ACTUALLY had a good dynamic! Not always the best, but they were improving and learning together. Specially when John started to rely on her as someone more capable.

The talks on the phone where they're comforting each other are my favorite. (But really it was Sarah doing something crazy while John is crying in a tent, nice swap of places).

The whole thing is at least a 7/10.

Nix? Might just be me, but they feel like the gay/lesbian duo who have very similar personalities and fight like siblings. Wouldn't ship them, but they vibe.

----

Round 2:

I actually have nothing much to say here.

Jix have a very undefined relationship that I can't seem to label. Pals? Sibling-ish? Friends with occasional benefits? Sam? What are or can they be exactly?

Joveen maybe interacted 6 times (hehe) and most of these were passive conversations, but I'm a firm Eight-potential believer. I think they could've actually kicked off given that Pittacus didn't FUCKING KILL EIGHT.

They'd be like. "Yeah, I think I'm Pittacus Lore." "No way, I think I'm Pittacus Lore too!" yay!

I'm going john/eight (=1/2??)

----

Round 3:

Unlike the round two ships, these are ones I actually have so many interpretations for, I can't put all of them down.

Six/Sarah is hot.

Six/Marina is more cute.

I will argue though, that Marina is really sad rn and needs her bff/gf/emotional support lesbian. Sarah doesn't, she's dead.

But on any other occasion YOU CAN'T MAKE ME CHOSE

SIX HAS TWO HANDS FOR A REASON

----

Round 4:

PO6 trio actually have a good dynamic if it wasn't for the 'love triangle' shit the authors shoved in there. Like, they made it more like a love angle centered around Six. But let's be real, she and John are arguing over having Sam.

John/Nine/Sam is just stupid/more stupid/less stupid and you know what? I like it. Don't try to put a label on them, give me some interactions and I will generate an entire world centered around these 3 dumbasses together.

----

Round 5:

These trios are just two different versions of each other.

quiet x flirty x smt else

However, i do like my polys a perfect triangle. And while I stand for Isabella/Duanphen and Isabella/Caleb separately, Caleb/Duanphen just doesn't go. The most I can see between them was Caleb acknowledging Duan is at least normal.

Also, they were roommates (Tay/Isabel/Ran).

Need I say more?

----

Round 6:

Hear me out, Kopano and Taylor are the kind of cute ship with so many sides and corners and sweetness that your teeth rot. I'm here for it. Love the babies.

They also happen to be alive and we all need a break from crying over the dead.

[thealtofvalleyxdoodles]

"Tell her her dress is pretty."

You were just an average babysitter. Nothing too grand-sure you loved kids, sure the parents paid nicely-but fucking hell, Joe Graves.

And Sarah-the cutest little thing ever! She's so sweet, little chatter box, sure, but it's cute, you think, hearing her rant about how cool her daddy is, and how he's got some of the coolest friends. When this happened, you just sat there, letting her talk-but one day, it happened in your front yard. So you played with her and her dolls-kinda. She forgot they were there and started waving her armsand hands around as she told a story that Joe told her, one about where had to swim in a big river. "Really, Sarah? Did you daddy say all of that?" "Yeah huh! Yea huh! He's so cool!" Sarah said, jumping up and down on her feet now. You giggled before saying, "Careful hunny. Dont wantcha falling now do we?" And Sarah shook her head. "Nuh uh. That would hurt...hey-Miss Y/n? Why don't you have a husband?"

you ch0oked on your spit. "Uhm-where'd you learn that word hunny?" "Daddy! He was talking his friends about you-" "And I told you not to eavesdrop anymore, Sarah." the gruff voice made the both of you jump. "Joe! Hi! Goodness, I didn't see you!" "I walked," he said simply. "I don't live far anyway. Besides, it's good for my health." You nodded your head, "True." Joe smiled at you, and you smiled back. Sarah huffed before saying, "Daddy! I was talking to Miss Y/n! And you said it's rude to inter-inner...I don't know!" Sarah pouted, crossing her arms over her chest in that cute little way only toddlers could. You laughed and said, "Sarah, calm down sweetie. I'm listening."

But Joe quirked a brow up. "You've never pouted like that before..." he grumbled to himself, watching Sarah go on her little taggant to you. He listening somewhat, but then looked at his wrist watch, "Sarah, sweetie. It's almost time for mom to pick you up." And Sarah pouted-again. "I don't wanna go to mom's! I wanna stay with Miss Y/n!" "Sarah...I'm being called in-you have to go to Lena's." "I'm not going!" Joe sighed and picked up his daughter. She started to fake cry. "Sarah! Enough! What the hell is wrong with you today?"

He felt bad for saying that to her, he knew it was probably a side affect of aging, but jeez...this was bad. You got up off the little picnic blanket and said, "I'm not going to tell you how to parent, Mister Graves...I'm just going to say, maybe it's because she sees how stressed and annoyed Lena makes you-maybe she's reluctant to go with her mother because of this." Huh. Good point-Sarah's was always a Daddy's girl. "Yeah-Yeah maybe..." but his daughter was (trying to and failing) glaring at him. "Sarah. Sweetie. We'll have a talk at home, okay?" Jeez-he already had to pull out the dad talk? ...Maybe Lena was right-Maybe he spent too much time at work and not enough at home.

"Say bye to Miss L/n." "Bye, Miss Y/n..." Sarah said sadly, waving to you even more so. You jutted your lower lip out before saying, "Well-here's the bag of toys she brought, Joe. Have a nice day!" Joe nodded and he took the bag, "Yeah-you too..."

but as he walked away, "Tell her her dress is pretty, Sarah," Joe said, smiling, "YOUR DRESS IT PRETTY MISS Y/NNNN!!!"

~~~~~ 𝕋 𝔸 𝔾 𝕊 ~~~~~

@spicy-seaweed @seconds-over-first @thebunnednun @staytrueblue @writing-with-moss and my backup blog: @valscodblog bc i can c:

[greenleaf777]

Elriel halloween 🎃 👻

Decided to draw Azriel and Elain as one of my favorite book ships Kanej aka Kaz Brekker and Inej Gafa

This was so much fun to design. Especially love azriels “kaz brekker” hair

[amoratearte]

just the six fanarts challenge I did of non asoiaf characters to have some fun

[monarchteen]

oh, save me, duel pov romantasy

[thelilylav]

I’m not saying a lot but I AM saying that John and Sam should’ve been allowed to kiss at least once

[tllgrrl]

The post-Flag Smashers cookout scene that closes The Falcon and The Winter Soldier was edited down from this:

* * * * * *

That newly-released for the BluRay Special Features cut shows what the writers intended for Bucky’s post-Winter Soldier life.

For me, this little scene beautifully precedes one of my all-time favourite fics that begins Sarah & Bucky’s relationship and starts a whole series called The SarahBucky Songbook & B-Sides:

In celebration of SarahBucky Canon Day (screw all that, it’s SarahBucky Canon Week) here’s the first “song” in the Songbook:

Don’t Get Around Much Anymore by @btwxsixesandsevens

#ICYMI

In my mind, the party on the dock continued at Sarah’s home.

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

Six-Sentence Sunday (or nearly)

Feel like I haven't been posting as much about writing nearly as much; writers block and a very busy schedule keeping me from finishing any of my million WIPs. But here, have a snippet from a fic inspired by "eurydice" by Sarah Ruhl. It just might break my block!

Remind him to forget me. He'll figure out how that works– he always figures out the impossible.

It's better for him and good for you.

I hope if I met you, I'd like you. But I don't really get a say in anything in his life anymore.

[hunterwritesstuff]

I guess this is happening

Welcome to my writing blog on my second tumblr account, I write stuff sometimes upon request!

I AM AN ADULT, LIKE, 20+ YEARS OLD

Rules: 

* BE AS SPECIFIC AS PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE. I’M AUTISTIC AND CAN’T READ YA MIND. THANK YOU :)

* I have the right to decline any request I feel uncomfortable with.

* Please don’t rush me! I take my time when writing because I want it to be good!

* Don’t request something I’ve mentioned makes me uncomfy. Thanks.

* I will do Spicy NSFW stuff, it may just take a while lmao

* I may do slightly suggestive, but still not much.

* Specify if platonic, familial, or romantic.

* I will not do OC x Canon unless it’s my OCs because I don’t know other people’s ocs very well, sorry :(

* Specify pronouns for your request! It’s imperative so that I can give you what you want me to write! :D

* Nothing problematic please!

* Specify if fic or headcanons please!

* Be gentle about my writing please! I hold it near and dear to my heart!

* Use tone-tags please! I can’t read people well!

* I WILL ONLY WRITE SMUT SOMETIMES HOLY SHIT OH MY FUCKING GOD GUYS PLS

* Please do not ask me about my friend’s ocs/stories, I won’t say anything because I don’t want to spoil anything/I don’t know much. Before you ask, yes! I like her OCs! I like her! I like her stories! This is just for my own mental health due to my own limits as a person/creator and still fighting with getting over my own insecurities as a creator. I have no ill will with her, this is just due to my own limits. Thanks.

What I will write: Gore fics 

 MY Ocs(I have brainrot but these may take longer bc I’m not used to being asked to infodump about them without freezing up/fear of rejection or negative reactions-)

Character Headcanons(just my HCs for the character!) 

x readers 

 OC x canon(this will only be for my OCs sorry, I don’t know yours well enough to write them effectively) 

 Fluff 

OC x Reader 

 Angst 

Hurt/comfort 

AUs(examples: Coffee shop, Soulmate,crossover Etc) 

 Yanderes 

 heavy topics(IF U ASK ME TO ROMANTICIZE THESE I WILL COME FOR YOUR KNEECAPS) 

Platonic(this includes platonic yandere's) 

What I WON’T write:

Full-On Smut(I don’t feel confident enough with writing smut to do this, sorry!)

romanticizing sensitive topics

transphobia/homophobia

racism

suicide fics(I.E, characters finding you committed, I’m not comfy with that.)

abuse fics(Obviously.)

just anything problematic.

Also, I shouldn’t have to say this but 

I WILL NOT WRITE CHEATING.

Fandoms I write for:

Welcome home(Puppets)(Not ATM, on hiatus from this)

Mandela Catalogue(my Guardian Alternates AU hue hue hue)(Mostly platonic though-)

Payday 2 (Not ATM, on hiatus from this)

Darkwing Duck(Not ATM, on hiatus from this)

Mario

DSAF(sometimes)

Pokepasta characters(Platonic for younger ones, obvs, but hey! I see you, simps! I see you and want to feed you! <3)(Be specific which one btw, I’m still getting into pokepasta stuff so patience is appreciated lol)(Only the humans/trainers though-) Replacing this with Hypno’s Lullaby lol(Keeping the platonic for younger ones though)(Not ATM, on hiatus from this)

Hazbin Hotel(Nothing romantic with Val because I don’t feel comfortable writing that, and like. Nothing romantic or sexual with Alastor because he’s aroace.)

Cookie Run(both Ovenbreak AND Kingdom)(Not ATM, on hiatus from this)

Bendy And the Ink Machine/Bendy and the Dark Revival

Phighting

[ode777]

I’ve cracked the code, Outer Banks is just Six of Crows if the crows were all dumb

[zoyaofthegardvn]

Updates and Communications...

Hi guys! I know I've been pretty dead on here recently, and I apologize for that, so I figured I'd post a little update!

I'm in the thick of finals season. I've got about 3 weeks left, so I'm sad to say I really won't be writing at all for the next few weeks as I focus solely on school. But trust that this summer, I fully intend to return my attentions to your guys' requests! I really do miss it! So, yes, I am still here, I am still writing, and I am still committed to working through requests :)

I will also say that I have gone through and relinked all my masterlists to my general masterlist, which is pinned on my profile. I don't know if you all saw my previous post about Tumblr disabling links, but my masterlists were indeed impacted. Those should be working now! I don't see any of my fics/drabbles etc that are affected, but if you ever attempt to read ANYTHING I have linked and it doesn't work, or takes you out of the mobile app, do shoot me a message so that I can fix that link. Even though I'm focused on school, I am on here every day checking messages and such!

That's all friends! Hope everyone is doing well, and I hope any other students out there are managing finals season as best as they can! We're so close to summer! <3

[ll-but-its-random]

LL incorrect quotes (pt. ???)

Except I'm going through a shipping brainrot.

(Some NSFW)

John: We should get you to a doctor for a check up immediately. What if it happens again, and there isn’t anyone around to help you? What if it’s congenital? Oh my God! Was it me? Did I hurt you? Sarah: …You realize any other person that made their partner pass out on bed would simply feel really proud of themselves, right?

---

Eight: Crushes are so weird. Whenever I'm around mine, I start acting stupid. Marina: You always act stupid. Marina: Marina: Wait... --- Einar: You gotta apologize. Five: FINE! But I must warn you that this might make me a better, nicer person and that is NOT who you fell in love with. --- Six: Good night to the love of my life, Sam, and fuck the rest of y'all. --- Sarah: Hey John! Gotta a date for tonight? John: No... Sarah: Now you do. Hold my hand. --- One: I'm gonna take a shower. Wanna help me out ;) Adam: ...Have you never taken a shower before? --- Einar: You look good in that hoodie. Five: You know where else I'd look good? Einar, without hesitation: My bed. Five: Dominating the worl- wait what? --- (Set up on a blind date) Adam: Consider it background checking, but do you have any death certificate? Date: Um... no, not yet. Adam: Good, I'm not fucking a ghost again. --- Waiter: What would you like? Eight: Bring a milkshake with two straws. Marina: *blushes* Eight: *puts both straws in his mouth* Watch how fast I can drink this!! --- Six: I have the urge to do something stupid. Sam: I'm stupid, do me.

+ any of the non-loric characters here pulling the "Do you have a surname" card, because they know damn well they don't.

[fanfic-writing-addic]

I sit across from six as I do my thing on the computer trying to find number four. “So what is the plan?” I ask,

“We find him, and get him the hell out of there.” She responds, her response is always the same “I’m going to get a refill want one?”

“Yes please.” She takes our cups up tot eh counter. Coffee one of my favorite human drinks. I stop typing. Paradise paradise Ohio is where he’s at. Is he and his ceapean insane! That’s one of the places that my people kept watch. We’re screwed. Six comes back.

“What did you fine?” I can hear the concern in her voice.

“We need to go to paradise Ohio right now.” I say, slamming the computer. She doesn’t ask. Just hands me my coffee. We leave. We get in the old beat up car we stole at a junkyard a few weeks ago. She starts driving. I then decide to fill in. “We have another problem. Paradise is on of the hand full of place my people have put watch over.”

“Fuck!” She yells, she then begins speeding taking all the back roads as I navigate her. Her knuckles right from gripping the stirring wheel so tight. We go directly to a school. My people are already there.

“Looks like we are going to have to fight our way in.”

“Yeah, looks like it.” We get out of the car. She takes my hand turning us invisible. We take out a few mogs along the way and steal their blasters. Not like they need them anymore anyway. We follow the line of mogs to a door. Six turns us visible and we start shooting. She busts down the door. I hold them off. “Alex, get your ass in here!” She shouts, so I do. She slams the door behind me. There are four other people in the room. A girl with blond hair. A boy with shaggy blond hair. A boy with dark brown hair. And a boy with blond hair.

“Which one of you is four?” I ask, one of the boys with blond hair raises his hand. I roll my eyes. “If you were one of my people they would have killed you at birth.” It’s a wonder they didn’t kill Adam at birth. Now I have no clue where he is. They captured us and split us up. I helped six escape. I still have no clue where my brother is.

“Your on of them.” The boy with shaggy hair points out.

“Yeah, don’t worry i don’t plan to kill you.”

“Listen I can only turn myself and four of you invisible…” I interrupt her.

“Take them. I can handle myself.”

“Are you sure?”

“I grew up with them. I know how they think and act. I’ll be fine. I’ll go first.” Before she can stop me I’m already out the door. I remove my glasses and bear my teeth. They reqonize me as a commander due to my tattoos. Even though they known I turned they still respect me. That’s the flaw in their DNA. I shoot all of them dead to ash. I then run down the corridor and into a rom that I see it open. There are the others.

“You’re mogadorien?” The old man asks, my guess is that he’s the cépean.

“Yeah, don’t worry I don’t plan on killing you. Just finding my idiot brother. But to be fair I helped him so I guess that makes both of us idiots in the my people eyes.”

“What did you do?” Four asks,

“We tried to save two and three. We failed both times. We got separated. It’s a long story.” More blaster fire. By some miracle we get out alive. But we’re on the run. Nothing new I guess.

[melis-ash]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Black Sails, 18th Century CE RPF Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Eleanor Guthrie/Woodes Rogers, Eleanor Guthrie/Max (mentioned), Eleanor Guthrie & Richard Guthrie, Sarah Whetstone Rogers/Woodes Rogers, Eleanor Guthrie/Charles Vane (mentioned) Characters: Woodes Rogers, Eleanor Guthrie, Samuel Buck, William Dampier, Thomas Dover, Stephen Courthney, Joseph Guthrie (mentioned), Thomas Rogers (mentioned), Sarah Whetstone Rogers Additional Tags: WTF Kombat 2023, Don't copy to another site, Drama, Romance, Historical Inaccuracy, Nightmares, Canon-Typical Violence (mentioned), Dead People, Flashbacks, Blood and Gore Summary:

Дурное дело видеть смысл в чьей-то смерти, но раз уж так случилось, думает Вудс, нельзя допустить, чтобы все было зазря.

[mysterylilycheeta]

The greatest of all ship dynamics <3

[punkshort]

Just This Once

Pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: After yet another argument with your dad, his buddy across the street is there to help make you feel better.

Warnings: no outbreak, language, smut (18+ MDNI), age gap, hurt/comfort, reader's mom is dead, reader has hair (length unspecified), size kink, unprotected piv sex, dirty talk

WC: 5.8K

"Your mama didn't leave all that money in her will for you to piss it away on some bullshit degree!"

Your father's hurtful words ring loudly in your ears on a loop when you storm outside, screen door slamming shut behind you.

"Asshole," you hiss under your breath repeatedly. You clench your fists tightly at your sides, blunt nails digging into your palms and leaving angry little marks in your skin. Gravel crunches under your sneakers, each heavy footstep slicing through the peaceful quiet of night as you head towards the road, where your car is parked. Unfurling one hand, you reach into your purse for your car keys only to drop them in your haste. Metal skitters across asphalt and you curse again before bending to pick them up.

"The hell you doin' makin' all that racket?"

You snap your head up and peer into the darkness across the street. You recognize the voice but don't see the man - Joel Miller.

Joel has lived in the house across the street ever since your family moved to this side of town when you were a teenager. He mostly keeps to himself but throughout the years, he and your father grew pretty close. Whenever one of them needed help moving furniture or working on their trucks, they were there for each other. He was there mowing his lawn when you were taking pictures for your first formal dance. You'd see him and his daughter, Sarah, at every birthday party throughout the years. He sat next to your dad on your front porch wearing matching scowls the night your high school boyfriend brought you home from your very first date. And he was there on the day of your mother's funeral, wearing a black suit and slicked back, wavy hair with his hands clasped dutifully at his waist, looking stoic and forlorn.

"J- uh - Mr. Miller?"

You hear ice rattling in a glass and your eyes focus on his front porch, barely making out his broad shadow as he sips his whiskey.

"You havin' a tough night?" he asks. You huff and scoop up your keys before standing.

"Just another joyous dinner with my dad."

You note his silence and you cringe. What were you thinking? Of course he's not going to want to hear you speak badly about your father. So you clear your throat and try again.

"I'm just kidding-"

"You want a drink?"

Your eyes began to adjust to the darkness. He's sitting in one of his two adirondack chairs with a bottle of whiskey on the table in between. He picks the bottle up by the neck, swirling it around so you could see it. Your nose wrinkles at the thought of drinking whiskey but you find your feet moving in the direction of his house anyway. As you climb the stairs to his porch, he catches your eye and cocks an eyebrow.

"You're old enough to drink now, right?"

You roll your eyes and collapse into the chair next to him.

"Been old enough for a few years now," you mumble.

He doesn't have a spare glass outside so he tips back what's left of his drink before pouring some more and sliding it across the table for you.

"That's right. You gotta be... what? Twenty-three now?"

You shake your head and wince when the liquid passes your lips, leaving a trail of fire all the way down your throat.

"Almost twenty-six."

"Shit," he mutters to himself. He sighs and relaxes back into his chair, eyes drifting across the street to your father's house, then you do the same. The longer you sit in silence, the more your shoulders loosen up. That is, until Joel speaks.

"What had you all worked up?"

You roll your eyes and reach for the glass again, then decide against it. One sip is enough.

"Same fight we always have," you grumble. You stare at the windows, curtains pulled tight but not tight enough to hide the flicker of blue light from the television in the living room. Based on the time, you guess your dad is watching sports highlights. Or the news.

"'N what's that?" he asks.

"College," you say simply. Joel twists his head to look at you.

"College?" he repeats. "Thought you dropped out."

"I did," you tell him a little harsher than you intend. "But only because I didn't want to go to school for economics. Or nursing. Or biology. Those are degrees he deems worthy of the money my mom left me, but I don't want to do any of that."

"What do you wanna do, then?" he asks gently. You turn to meet his dark gaze and you're struck by how thoughtful and attentive he looks.

"Well," you begin, taking a deep breath, "I really love photography. So I want to go for my fine arts degree, but my dad thinks it's a waste."

You brace yourself for the reaction you're used to getting: a snort of disbelief, a cruel laugh, a shake of a head. But to your surprise, Joel smiles.

"I think that suits you."

You give him an incredulous look before jokingly pointing at the bottle. "How much have you had to drink?"

He laughs now, a deep sound that rumbles from his broad chest and makes the wrinkles next to his eyes and mouth deepen when his smile widens.

"Just had the one," he answers before leaning forward a bit in his chair. "I say it suits you 'cause for as long as I can remember, I saw you with a camera in your hand, takin' pictures of just 'bout anythin' you found worthwhile."

"You remember that?" you ask softly. Joel heard the awe in your voice and he tries to act nonchalant, giving you a casual shrug and a nervous scratch of his greying beard before replying.

"Yeah. Sure I do. Had Sarah beggin' me for a fancy camera two Christmases in a row," he says. You catch the way his eyes soften at the thought of his daughter and it makes you smile.

You sigh after a minute of silence. "Why can't my dad see it?"

Joel shrugs again. "It's different when it's your own kid," he explains. "You want somethin' steady. Somethin' practical, so you don't gotta worry 'bout 'em."

You hum under your breath and let your eyes drift back across the street, where the television was now turned off and your father's bedroom window glowed yellow. He must be getting ready for bed.

"How's Sarah doing, anyway?"

"She's great," he answers. "Studyin' abroad in Spain for the semester. Miss her like fuckin' crazy, though. Place is real lonely."

When you tilt your head to look at Joel again, you're surprised to find him already gazing at you, but something about it feels different. Like the air is suddenly charged.

You open your mouth to say something but when his eyes drop to your parted lips, the words die on your tongue.

Then, as if he noticed the shift as well, he blinks and looks away, clearing his throat.

You should have taken it as your cue to go. It's late and you still have to drive back to your apartment downtown, but something keeps you planted in his chair. Something that tugs at you, a curiosity that grows somewhere in the back of your head.

Something that wishes he would look at you like that again.

"No lady in your life to keep you company?" you ask boldly.

He cracks a small smile and shakes his head. "Nah. Hard startin' over at this age."

Your chest aches a little when you see the brief look of sadness cross his face, which he quickly shakes off.

"How 'bout you?" he asks, and you feel your heart skip a beat. He locks eyes with you again. "You got a guy you're lookin' to have struck with the fear of god by me 'n your old man?"

Joel smirks at his joke and you could politely laugh and answer, but instead you keep your gaze fixed and without a flicker of humor, you murmur, "Nope. I am very unattached at the moment."

His smile falters and across the street, the light in your dad's bedroom turns off. Your tongue shoots out to quickly lick your lips and you aren't sure what burns more: the remnants of whiskey or the heat from Joel's stare.

He looks like he's debating on how to answer. Similar to yourself, he's sensing something unexpected building, something you are both trying to tread around lightly. Finally, the devil on his shoulder wins the fight.

"Find that hard to believe."

The air feels paper thin. Every inhale seems to make you feel dizzier, but you know it isn't the air - it's him.

"Oh?" you breathe.

He nods, looking more determined now. Confident. You feel your cheeks grow hot and you're grateful for the cover of night. Fortunately, his intense gaze drops to the table between you, giving you a second to gather yourself. But he really does only give you a second because he asks, "Didn't care for the whiskey?"

You shake your head. "Not much of a whiskey girl."

"You wanna come inside? I can get you somethin' else."

Come inside. Your heart beats fast and your legs shake from how hard you're pressing them together. Is he just being polite or is he asking what you think he's asking?

And if he is asking what you think he's asking... is that something you want?

Joel's a good looking guy, especially for his age, but you never thought about him like that before. But tonight, spending time one on one, you are privy to a different side of him. One that listens to you and apparently pays attention to your interests. It has you seeing him in a completely different light.

"Yeah," you whisper. Your voice sounds a little thicker than you expect and it has him smiling as he stands. He picks up the glass and the bottle, then nods towards his front door. You swallow, force yourself to your feet, and follow him inside.

It looks different than you remember, although in reality, it probably had hardly changed a bit. Same old carpet, same couch, same television... It wasn't so much the house, but the reason you were there that made it feel strange. You weren't there to visit Sarah or come scoop up your dad when he was drinking too much watching some football game with Joel. You're there for something else, and more importantly, you're there alone for the very first time.

"What can I get you?"

"Hmm?" You swivel around to face him, hoping your nerves weren't showing now that the soft glow from his kitchen lights illuminated your face.

He gives you a knowing smirk and points to his fridge. "To drink?"

"Oh," you say, "uh, just water."

Joel frowns. "You sure? I got beer, tequila, and some fruity shit in a can that Sarah left."

You're tempted to take something stronger but ultimately shake your head. He pulls a glass from his cabinet and fills it with chilled water from a pitcher in his fridge while your eyes dart around the room. You smile to yourself. The place is clean but there were certainly signs a bachelor lives there. There's a calendar on the wall that's a month behind, a dirty skillet in the sink, and coffee grounds scattered on the counter next to the canister.

"Here," he says, handing you the cold glass. You take it and bring it to your lips, watching as he pours himself a small splash of whiskey. He stares down at the brown liquid, contemplative, like he was struggling to make a decision. Then, as if he found his answer, he tosses the drink back in one go and nods before catching your eye again.

"Am I-"

Joel cuts himself off with a dry laugh. His palm swipes over his mouth nervously before trying again.

"Am I, uh, readin' things wrong? Or is there somethin' goin' on here?"

Your heart rate spikes at his forward question but you give him credit - he's putting the choice entirely on you. He's giving you an out. However, you swallow thickly and shake your head.

"No," you all but whisper. "You're not wrong."

You shakily place your glass on the counter next to you, knowing full well you are about to cross a very dangerous line, but the utter excitement swirling in your stomach and the arousal pulling between your legs has you ignoring all of the potential consequences of your decision.

Joel stares at you in shock from his place next to the sink, as if he can't quite believe his ears.

"You're shittin' me, right?"

His voice is laced with so much disbelief that it has you feeling kind of high, so you smirk and take a few steps forward, hoping you're coming off as assertive. You don't really blame him for being surprised. Hell, you even surprised yourself tonight, but something told you that you wouldn't regret your choice.

"No," you reply slowly, and this time you allow your gaze to travel down his chiseled jaw and across the broad expanse of his chest, making sure there was no mistaking your attraction for him before locking eyes again. "Unless... do you want me to go?"

Joel's eyes flicker nervously towards the front of the house and you wonder if he's thinking about you leaving or what your father would think if you stayed.

You get your answer soon enough.

"No," he says firmly. And in one long stride he closes the distance between you, wraps one arm around your middle, and tugs you forward while pressing his lips hungrily against yours.

It steals your breath at first, the surprising softness of his lips combined with the burning remains of whiskey on his tongue. It's so much better than you expected, too. He's gentle in the way he holds you and guides you backwards, yet there is no mistaking his eagerness when his tongue tangles with yours. The coarse hairs from his beard burn your chin in the most delicious way and you wonder when this is all over, if you still feel that tingle every now and then as a reminder.

Every backwards step towards his living room has the heat flaring hotter between your thighs. Your fingers claw at his shoulders, searching for stability, for something to keep you on this planet because you swear if you let go, you would just float away. You have no idea what's come over you, but you can't remember ever wanting somebody this badly before.

Your legs collide with the couch and you're both so lost in tasting one another that you stumble a bit before clumsily collapsing onto the cushion. Without breaking the kiss, you throw your leg over his lap. Your hands drift up to his thick, wavy hair and his find a home over your ass, fingers plucking uselessly at the denim shorts you had on.

The only sounds that fill the room are the ticking from the clock on the mantle, your shared heavy breaths, and the creaking from the leather couch underneath your knees. That is, until you roll your hips forward, grinding down on his lap. Joel lets out a deep groan and you swear you feel a shudder shoot through his whole body.

"Christ," he rasps, pulling away so he can catch his breath. You smile as you trail kisses down his neck, pleased with how wrecked he sounded already. His hands knead the flesh of your ass as you make your way down. Your tongue dips into the hollow at the base of his throat, licking up the dried sweat and moaning at the taste when he asks, "Are you sure 'bout this?"

He sounds conflicted, like the last thing on earth he wants to do is stop, but his moral compass got the better of him. You unlatch yourself from his neck and sit up straight, hips slowly grinding down on his lap as you gaze down at him with heavy lidded eyes.

"I'm sure," you tell him, voice firm and certain. You feel the corner of your mouth curl when his swollen lips part to release a soft noise when your clothed center rubs along his cock, stiff and straining in his jeans.

"Okay," he whispers, messy curls flopping forward when his chin drops to watch you move. "Just this once."

A thrill shoots through you, electrifying your limbs and jump starting your heart.

Your head falls to capture his lips in one more wet kiss before you push yourself off the couch to stand. Joel remains seated with his legs spread wide and he watches with his chest heaving as you unbutton your denim shorts, letting them playfully fall to the carpeted floor.

You're feeling pretty good. Your confidence is through the roof at the way Joel's jaw drops a little when you slide your panties down your legs, but it was short lived.

You lean forward to help him with the zipper on his jeans and his hips lift so he can shove the fabric down, just to his knees, apparently too eager to rid himself of them entirely. You allow him the honor of pushing down the band of his boxers and your breath gets caught in your throat when you see the size of him for the first time.

Just like that, your confidence washes away and your eyes widen. You think you can handle his length but it's his girth that gives you pause.

It's as if your composure transfers right to Joel because he clocks your reaction and he smirks with a smug look on his face. His fist wraps tightly around his cock when he says, "It's alright, you can take it. We'll go slow."

"Okay," you say softly. You straddle his lap again, knees sinking into the soft leather, as you both stare down at his leaking shaft between your bodies. Slowly, you rock your hips, letting him slide between your folds and you gasp when the tip of his cock catches on your clit with every pass.

His hands rest on your waist, gently helping you move back and forth while he watches in awe as you cover him with your slick. Your eyes flutter closed and you sink your teeth into your lower lip, breathing in deep through your nose and feeling your muscles relax. Every time he slips through your folds, the ache in your cunt grows tighter.

"Fuck, J- uh, Mr. M-"

Your hips still and you open your eyes as the realization hits you both at the same time that you have never called him by his first name before. It should have filled you with shame or at least some guilt, but instead you feel yourself dripping even more sticky arousal onto his skin. Joel feels it and chuckles.

"Think we're past formalities, darlin'."

Your eyes flash in the darkness of his living room and you give him a sly grin.

"Yeah, guess so," you breathe, hips resuming their slow pace up and down the underside of his cock. "Unless you're into that sort of thing..."

Joel growls and his hands dig into your waist, moving you a little faster on his lap.

"Way you're soakin' me, I'd say you're the one who's got a thing."

You laugh breathlessly and circle your arms around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth closer, needing to feel his lips on your skin once again.

"Maybe I do," you admit, mostly joking when you lean in to graze your lips against his ear to give it a try. "I want you to fuck me, Mr. Miller."

Joel's teeth find your shoulder and he gives you a playful nip, but other than that, he remains stoic. So, you try again.

"Think I'll be sore tomorrow, Mr. Miller?" you prod. His dick twitches between your legs and his breathing stalls, but still, he says nothing.

You briefly think you might be crossing a line, but you go for it anyway when you whisper, "When you see my dad tomorrow, are you gonna be thinking about this, Mr. Mill-"

Joel tosses his head back so he can grab your jaw, cutting you off with his thumb and forefinger digging into the soft flesh of your cheeks. His eyes look fiery and his teeth grind together as he stares daggers at you. For a second, you think you fucked up, but then he says, "You gonna run your mouth all night or are you gonna sit on my cock?"

A wide smile breaks across your face but it's restricted by his firm grip on your jaw. You shuffle onto your knees, raising your hips in the air so you could line him up at your entrance, but then he releases your chin and stops you.

"Wait," he murmurs, then two fingers slide through your pussy, collecting your arousal and making you gasp at the contact. Your eyes lock and he pops both fingers in his mouth with a groan. His eyelids droop closed for a moment as he savors your taste, the sight causing your mouth to go dry and your knees to feel weak.

"C'mere," he rasps, hand curling around the back of your neck and pulling you down. Your mouths collide and his tongue slips easily past your lips, offering you a taste of yourself while his other hand holds himself steady and nudges at your opening.

Slowly, you begin to sink down. The stretch gives you pause almost immediately and you whimper into his mouth. With one hand still cupping the back of your head, he breaks the kiss but presses your foreheads together as you both fight for air.

"'S okay, take your time," he says, but his voice is strained and his words are slurring, already feeling drunk off you.

You nod and try to take more. Another inch disappears inside you and your thighs tremble as you focus on breathing.

"You're so big," you whine when you take another inch. A shaky breath slips past his lips and his hand tightens around the back of your neck.

"Easy," he warns when you try to go too fast. You cry out softly and pause again, frustrated that you can't take him faster. Joel senses it and presses a kiss against your lips.

"Don't rush," he says, "wanna really feel you."

Just this once. You suppose since this wasn't going to happen again, you should make it count. Go slow, like he says.

"Touch me," you whisper, your nose brushing gently alongside his. Your eyes close and your fingers curl into the tense muscles of his back, then you sigh with relief when his thumb grazes your clit.

"Like that?" he asks, swirling circles over your bundle of nerves. You nod.

His touch softens you and you feel your muscles stretching and relaxing as you press further down. It's when you are nearly seated in his lap that his lips feverishly seek out yours once again, slotting together and muffling your moans when your hips grow flush with his.

"Y-you-" he stammers against your lips as you both work on adjusting to the feeling of your cunt wrapped snugly around his sizable length. He swallows and tries again. "So good, darlin'. S-so tight, fuck-" he groans, then flexes his hips, pushing himself as deep as he can possibly go. You wince and cry out, but he shushes you. "'S alright," he pants, "I got you. Just... just stay still a second, okay?"

You nod, mind a blur as he wraps his arms around your middle and buries his face in the crook of your neck. He sighs and slowly flexes his hips again, but it doesn't hurt the second time. You rest your cheek on the side of his head and close your eyes, allowing him to do whatever it is he wants to do.

His hands roam greedily around your body, thick fingers stretching to touch as much of you as possible. You feel his heart hammering in his chest and you think yours might be beating in rhythm with his, but you can't be certain because all your focus is drawn to the fullness between your legs and the soft noises emanating from the man underneath you.

"Talk to me," you whisper. His hands still and you hear him swallow.

"Say my name."

You don't process it at first, mind still slow and foggy like you were drunk, but you only had one sip of whiskey. Then, you realize what he wanted.

"Joel."

He groans, the vibrations transferring from his mouth to your chest. One of his hands slides up your thin shirt and pushes up your bra to cup your breast. "Again."

You moan his name and tip your head back, curling your spine so you push more of your chest into his palm. Two fingers pinch and roll your nipple and you gasp, then whisper his name again.

Just when you think you can't take much more and you will have to resort to begging, Joel melts into the couch and gazes up at you with the softest pair of eyes. He looks like a completely different man: his face is relaxed and he stares at you like you're the only two people on earth. Like you weren't his friend's daughter and there wasn't anything wrong with what you were doing. He looks at you like he's just a man and you're just a woman who holds the secrets of the universe in her hands.

He doesn't ask you to move, but he doesn't stop you when you slowly begin to rock your hips forward, either. The first few passes are tough. The stretch of his cock sliding in and out of you, even just a little bit, is an adjustment. But the more you move, the easier it becomes, and all the while Joel has his eyes pinned on you. He sees the way you screw your face up when the pressure is too much, then the way your brows relax and your breath evens out.

"How's it feel?" he asks when it becomes clear you are no longer in discomfort. You roll your hips steadily and link your arms around his neck.

"Good," you say truthfully, "so deep, and so full."

"Yeah?" he asks. "Anyone ever been this deep?" He punctuates his question with a snap of his hips and your mouth falls open. You find it difficult to answer when he's thrusting upwards, the power behind it already forming a dull ache somewhere deep inside you, so he asks again.

"No," you whisper.

"Yeah, that's right," he grumbles. He drops his gaze to watch you bounce on his lap, to watch the way your cunt spreads to accommodate him. Both his hands curl around the tops of your thighs as you move, squeezing your muscles like he needed to confirm you were real before sliding his palms up to rest on the crease of your hips.

You have no idea how you'll ever be satisfied with another man ever again now that you've felt what it's like to have Joel split you open and chase away every stressful, lingering thought from your brain. Just this once, just this once, just-

"More," you gasp, thighs tight and aching from supporting your weight. His fingers press into your skin and he begins to guide you, moving you up and down as he stares deep into your eyes.

"So soft," he murmurs. Your skin prickles at the wonder in his voice. "Everythin' 'bout you is so warm 'n soft. Gonna drive me fuckin' crazy, darlin'."

You move a little faster and you wish you had the foresight to pull his shirt off earlier. You want to see him - all of him - so you drop your hands to the hem of his shirt and slide them under it, instead. His breath sharpens when your palms run over the soft swell of his stomach, fingers mapping every inch of his skin and piecing together what he must look like from touch alone. Then, your hand sweeps over his heart. You feel the rapid thump right there, right under the pads of your fingers, and his dark brown eyes find yours. They look a little wild, a little wrecked, but mostly they look at you with adoration while you continue to ride him with every ounce of strength you have.

His breath grows ragged, just like yours. You easily drop yourself down onto his lap over and over, body now fully relaxed and open and accustomed to his size. He grunts each time his cock disappears inside you and his jaw starts to tighten when he meets you, thrust for thrust.

"Look at you," he breathes, "takin' me so well. Perfect little cunt, fuck-"

Your eyelids flutter and your mouth drops open, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to your peak. You can feel the heat pooling low at the base of your spine and your breathing is reduced to sharp gasps.

His hands push and pull your body up and down - fast - and it has your fingers digging into his chest for balance underneath his shirt.

"Shit... feels so good," he moans, jaw slack and eyes glassy as he watches you whine and writhe in his lap. Sweat dots your forehead and you feel that familiar crest swelling deep inside.

"Joel-" you pant, voice cracked and hoarse. He blinks and catches the way your hips stutter. His hands slide up your back and press you forward, into his chest, and you tiredly slump against his shoulder.

"I got you," he murmurs before harshly snapping his hips. You moan his name and squeeze your eyes shut, the new angle stealing your breath and making your thighs shake. A hand presses on the base of your spine, pushing you down and holding you still while he fucks up into you. Each bruising thrust has you whimpering into his neck but you're so fucking close, you just sit there and take it until the dam breaks and you practically scream out his name, your voice echoing off the walls in the dark, otherwise silent house.

He's saying something but your ears are ringing too loudly and your blood is pumping too fast for you to make it out. His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your back and his voice is soft and calming and it's exactly what you need.

The ache between your legs forms into a burn from how hard he fucks you, chasing his own high now that he knew you were taken care of. Your lips press weak kisses against his throat. You feel the vibrations from his grunts and the salty taste of his skin when you whisper inside before he can even ask.

"Yeah? Want me to fill up this pretty little pussy?"

His voice is thick and rough. You peel your eyes open and tip your head so you can watch his face contort and his mouth fall open. He breathes sharply when his cock swells inside you and you smile at the instant relief painted across his face. His palm still flattens against your lower back, holding you in place as he pumps you full of his release. Then you feel his muscles relax and his grip around you loosens with a deep sigh.

"Christ," he murmurs after a long stretch of silence. You giggle and he grins before his hand cups your jaw and pulls you up for a kiss. It's so tender that it leaves you breathless and you hardly even notice he's sliding out of you until a sharp pang deep inside reminds you and you whine.

"You did good," he says softly, still holding you close in his lap. "Feel alright?"

"Mhm," you nod with your lower lip pulled between your teeth. He gives you a lazy smile and pushes a stray piece of hair away from your face. Your heart lurches at the sweet gesture and you smile back.

A car slowly lumbers down the street, between Joel's and your father's houses. It draws your attention outside and you frown at how dark it is.

"What time is it?"

Joel sighs and squints at the mantle clock. "Almost one."

"Shit," you mutter, then go to stand. "I should get going."

"You can stay," he says quickly. You are in the middle of picking up your clothes from his floor and you pause to meet his eye. He shrugs. "I mean, if you wanna."

Place is real lonely. His words from earlier filter through your brain and you feel guilty when you shake your head.

"I ... I can't. My car - he'll see."

"Oh," Joel whispers, then nods like it's no big deal. Like he was just being nice with his offer and it didn't matter to him either way. But you saw the disappointment in his face before he dropped his chin to fix his pants and a sharp pang splits your chest.

He stands to adjust his pants and you excuse yourself to use his bathroom. After cleaning yourself up, you rifle through your purse for a pen but come up empty. Instead, you pull out a tube of lipstick and you grin when you scrawl your number on his mirror. You shove it back in your purse and fix your hair before descending the stairs to find him in the kitchen drinking a glass of water. He holds out your glass from earlier and you shake your head.

"I'm gonna head out then," you say.

"Alright."

He walks slowly behind you, holding open the door to the quiet night air when you turn to look at him one more time. You know it's a little risky, but it's late, your dad's house is dark, and you're quick. You stretch up on your tiptoes to give Joel one last, lingering kiss, then step backwards onto his porch.

"Thanks for tonight."

He laughs quietly and leans against the doorframe. "I should be thankin' you."

You don't say anything. You grin and take a few more steps backwards before swiveling around and jogging lightly down his steps. When you make it to your car, you resist the urge to look back to see if he's still watching you from his front door.

You smile to yourself as you drive down the empty street, the dull ache between your legs and the burn on your skin from his beard both pleasant reminders of your unexpected evening.

But later that night, when your phone pings with a text from an unknown number right as you're getting ready for bed, something tells you it will be more than just this once.

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