#the salt and pepper beard… i’m done

[t4toro]

why are we not talking about zq on the sxsw red carpet, can we talk about him pretty please please please

[rqnarok]

thinking about being old man!logan’s little housewife...

headcanons - cws/tags: sexual content, mdni! old man!logan. dom/sub undertones. age gap. both characters are of the age of consent. unprotected p in v. 18+ only.

logan’s all worn out. there is no justification made on depicting how done he is with the world. he lives his days in an accustomed routine - dread crawling on his scarred skin - digging the soil for his own grave. 

when he meets you, however, the horror, the panic, and the terror begin to fade away from his blurry orbs—replaced by the sight of your sugary sweet smile. you kept him calm by easing down his drinking and self-destruction. and he just can’t deny you, not when his dick gets so fucking hard when you’re around.

you can’t help it either. the need to fix someone seems very familiar in your generation—so sentimental and at the same time, pragmatic. never accepting ‘no’ for an answer, including when he tries to back you down by saying “ya’ don’t want me, kid. i’m an old dog.” as if sunlight to a plant, it only motivates you. leaving him flushed red and burrows knitted after you whispered filthy remarks to his ear. 

up to the point where he finally tears down his prejudices towards marriage and puts a shiny ring on your finger. 

he turns a blind eye to anyone glancing at him weirdly at how much older he looks compared to you, his salt-and-pepper beard not helping either. when charles notices the changes in him—how he seems to smile more and how hickeys sprawled up on his neck—he just can’t help but make snarky comments about it. logan’s too old for you (or so charles told him), and logan finds himself balking at that. 

“if she doesn’t want it, she would’ve left already.”

he’s right. if you didn’t want it, you would’ve left him. oh, but you stayed. and not only did you stay, but you also took care of him. letting you eat out the palm of his hands. 

greeting logan when he comes back from his blue-collar work, cooking and baking his favorite foods, ironing his work clothes and spraying the fabric with a lovely scent, kissing his bloodied knuckles, putting the prettiest outfit for him as a show, warming his cock when he sits lazily on the couch, nuzzling his thighs while you wait for him to get harden again, and letting him have you anywhere and anytime he wants.

logan keeps a polaroid of you while he’s away. a reminder to himself that he has a home now. he’d keep it in his wallet or his jacket pocket or hanging it on the car’s rear-view mirror. how empty was he to be so full of you now?

he never thought he would live a life like this—like how it is supposed to be. without you knowing, logan added one or two hours into his shift so that he could earn more extra pennies. the money he’ll use to pamper you, to make you feel comfortable and content. let you buy anything you want—all things on your shopping list are checked out by the end of the week.

and y’know, he’s an old man who’s not as strong as he used to be. so you pay for all this hard work by burying your face in logan’s neck as you ride him on the sofa. his head tilts slightly to catch your red-kissed lips with his - logan breathes something about how good you’re making him feel, “such a good little wife f’r your old man.”

he loves to tease you—telling you that you’re making him feel younger than ever when he’s with you, “gettin’ tired already, baby? need me t’do it for ya’?” his murmurs get to you as his large palms cup your ass, getting a handful of the plush skin before guiding you up and down his girth. 

logan knows how tired you can be, especially when you start whining desperately like this, so he gives one or two light smacks for encouragement, “there ya’ go, kiddo. fuck. don’t stop now. doin’ so well, baby. so good.” 

how you always ask for kisses from him ignites that taboo, perverted part of him he did not even know existed. anything that reminds him of how needy you are for him — feels so fucking wrong. but again, it gets his dick so fucking hard, too. he cannot help but to give in. 

“bet no one has ever fucked this pretty pussy like i have, huh? need a real man to do it.”

he’s so fucking smug of himself since he had you. knowing those boys your age wishes that you choose them instead. but he’ll know that would never happen because when he says something like “look acha, drooling over an old man like me. gonna let me fill ya’ up, hm?” your walls manage to grip his girth tighter - squeezing him in so deliciously logan wonders what kind of a heroism act he did to deserve you. 

makes you do a little ‘fashion show’ for him in the living room, parading yourself wearing all kinds of clothes that he bought. logan spreads his muscular thighs wide as he reads the newspaper—and the sight of him wearing his glasses that rest at the tip of his nose is holy to you, waiting to be worshipped. 

you’d come out with a white lingerie that barely covers anything, “do you like it, lo?” whilst you giggle and twirl in front of him, you almost miss how he adjusted his seating position to palm himself through his trousers. telling you, “c’mere here, baby. lemme take good look at’cha, gimme some sugar.” 

by ‘taking a look’ he means hiking up the sheer cloth to inspect your glistening mound, “hm. such a perfect pussy you got here, sweet’art.” probing his thick finger on the wet slick, humming at the dirty squelching sound. the look that he has makes your legs tremble  - his untrimmed greying beard - his vague-looking face scars. 

oh, coming home to you is the best part of his day. always. he’d see you heating the soup you made earlier and loses his fucking mind. turning off the stove in quick movements before hauling you up in his arms. 

skin meets skin slapping fills the room and praises come out of his mouth so naturally, “f-fuck. gon’ stuff ya’ up, darlin'." you’re vulnerable and bare, you can’t even think when he’s got you like this. 

logan would intertwine his fingers with yours. placing them side by side to see the wedding rings. a legitimate reminder that you’re his and he’s yours—forever. 

“good little wife. my good little wife.” 

[absurdthirst]

Contracted Fling {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.8k

Warnings: Secret affair, rough sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), semi-public sex, mentions of loss, miscommunication, fight, Joel being sexily violent, make up sex, morning after

Comments: Hired to renovate your parents house, Joel finds you irresistible. Engaging in an affair that turns complicated and scratches beneath both of your pasts.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

It’s not a bad gig. Not all things considered. The house isn’t in terrible shape, it just needs updating and homeowners aren’t the type to squabble if Joel uncovers some problem that will take more time and money to fix, they just want it to be done right. A true rarity in construction. 

Then there’s you. He’s old enough to know better and you’re young enough to have moved back into your parent’s house one week after demolition had started. You are a bonafide distraction and trouble all wrapped up in a pretty little package. Right now, he’s moving the little box of your bathroom shit into the hallway to continue to tear the tile out. Trying not to look down into it and see what you use when the smell of your shampoo drives him crazy.

When you moved back in with your parents, you felt like a failure. Your ex boyfriend had cheated on you and you were living in his place. You refused to stay in his apartment a moment longer so you packed your things and left. Moving back home, you plan to save enough money to get your own place but for now, you’re happy to be home. 

Especially when you’re greeted with the sight of Joel laboring around the house. He’s older, beard salt and pepper with streaks of gray through his hair. He’s unbelievably hot in a DILF kind of way, and you want him. It’s been a while since you had sex. Your ex hadn’t touched you and you wondered why until you found him balls deep in the colleague he said was ‘just a good friend.’ 

Joel is working on removing the tile in your bathroom, his brother downstairs is working on the tile in the kitchen, and you walk past the bathroom, eager to catch a sight of him. The way his plaid shirt stretches over his shoulders makes your mouth drool. 

“How’s it going?” You ask him when he pauses his demolition, leaning against the doorframe in the short shorts you’ve taken to wearing around the house since he arrived.

Joel glances at your legs and then straightens, groaning slightly and reaching for his handkerchief to wipe the sweat off his face. “Should be done with the demo by tomorrow.” He tells you. “You can still use the bathroom tonight though.” 

You cross your arms, biting your lip as you watch him roll his shoulders. “Cool. You and your brother seem to know what you’re doing. My parents made a good choice picking your company. You need some water? I’m heading downstairs to grab a coffee before I get back to work.” You’ve been working from your childhood bedroom, able to work remotely.

“Sure.” He won’t turn down water, especially enjoying the view when you turn around to walk to the stairs. “Thanks.” He calls after you, frowning slightly as he swears your ass shakes just a bit and his cock twitches. “She’s not interested in you.” He grunts to himself, listening to you bound down the stairs and call out a ‘hello’ to Tommy when you go into the kitchen. 

You come back about five minutes later with your coffee cup and you hand him a bottle of water, your fingers brushing his as he takes it from you. You stand there, watching as he opens the bottle and tilts his head back to down half the bottle, his Adam’s apple moving. Your mouth falls open slightly and you swallow down the drool. God, he’s so hot and he doesn’t even know it. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything else.” You try to say as innocently as possible and you turn to walk out of the bathroom with your cup of coffee. You’ll keep pushing him, see if he breaks, and if he doesn’t, you know he doesn’t want you.

“Thanks.” He lifts the bottle and watches as you walk away again, hissing slightly under his breath. You have been prancing around the house in short shorts and tank tops with your tits on display, giving him a good fucking view of the body you have. It makes him want to bend you over the bathroom sink and fuck you, but it’s your house, you can wear what you want. He’s just a guest here. 

**** 

It’s been two weeks since Joel and Tommy started working on your parent’s house and you have been frustrated by Joel’s presence. Every night, when the house is quiet, you rub your clit and imagine Joel taking you hard over the under construction kitchen counter. Today, his brother Tommy, is sick and it’s only Joel who is working on the kitchen floor. You work in your room until you decide to seek out a snack, making your way downstairs to the makeshift pantry. “Hey Joel. You want a snack?” You ask and you bend over to see what’s in the box your mom left in the corner.

Joel groans and grits his teeth together. “Yeah.” He grunts. “Whatcha got?” He knows what he wants to snack on. It’s right in front of him, bent over and all he has to do is just pull your shorts down and pull his cock out of his jeans. “Anything good?” 

You rifle through the snacks and hold up a couple of options over your head. “Chips or cookies?” You offer and he says “chips.” You take the cookies and stand up, tossing the packet over to him. You lean against the dining table and watch him shove a chip into his mouth. “So…how’s the work coming along? Must be hard without your brother here to help today.”

Joel snorts, rolling his eyes playfully and shrugs. “Better, don’t have to listen to him whine about dealing with his pregnant wife.” He jokes. “Cravings and cramps and aches and pains.” He shoves his hand back into the bag. “Told him just to fuck her good when she’s complaining, but that might be why he’s expecting a kid.” 

You wince slightly at the mention of his sister in-law being pregnant. A sensitive subject for you but Joel doesn’t know that. You chuckle after a second, fiddling with the bag in your hand. “Being a woman isn’t easy. Being pregnant, well that’s the hardest thing. Not that I- I don’t have kids. From what I’ve heard.” You explain, “you guys are doing a great job. My parents are already happy with your work. You’re good with your hands.” You compliment saucily, licking your lips of cookie crumbs after taking a bite.

Joel lifts a brow at your comment and stares at you for a moment. “I am good with my hands.” He agrees, staring at you in challenge, waiting to see what else will come out of that mouth of yours. Trying not to think about what he would like to put in that mouth. How you would react to that. 

“What else are you good with?” You ask, biting your lip as you wait for his reply. He leans against the counter, crossing his arms and the chip packet is still in his hand.

“Lots of things.” Joel brags, smirking at you slightly. “What are you interested in?” He asks, setting the bag down on the counter and crossing one leg over the other at the ankles as he waits for you to answer. 

You set the bag of cookies down on the kitchen table and brush off your hands, taking a step towards him. “Lots of things.” You hum, walking towards him, “not sure if you’re interested in using them on me but I sure have imagined it enough times.”

It’s an invitation, one that he hadn’t expected but he damn sure appreciated. He doesn’t move, just arching a brow at you as he licks his lips. “Take off your shirt.” He orders.

Your parents aren’t home. It’s only you and Joel. You can’t deny him when he looks at you with those dark brown eyes, his gaze burning into you. You reach down to grip the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head to expose your lace bra. You know he wants you to take that off too and you want to make the first move so you reach behind you to unclasp it, letting it drop down your arms to fall onto the floor he’s been working on.

He grunts, his cock twitching and hardening in his jeans. Finally uncrossing his ankles and standing straight as he steps closer to you. “You have pretty tits.” He compliments, palms itching to touch them. “Now I want to see your ass.” 

How can you deny him? You reach down to unbutton your shorts, knowing he’s in total control. He could leave you high and dry and humiliated but the look in his eyes tells you he’s going to give you exactly what you want. You push your shorts down along with your panties and turn around as you kick them away. Looking over your shoulder at him, you smirk. “Like what you see, old man?”

You have a fucking gorgeous ass. He wants to slap it and he huffs as he pins you against the counter, newly installed by him. “Unbutton my pants and find out.” He orders.

Your stomach twists with anticipation and arousal and you reach down to unbutton his jeans, snaking your hand in to wrap your fingers around his cock. “Fucking hell.” You gasp in shock. He’s huge. Thick and throbbing in your hand. “Is that - I don’t know if that’s gonna fit, Miller.”

Joel chuckles quietly and smirks at you. “Don’t think it will, little girl?” You’re a grown ass woman, but your fingers tighten around his cock when he calls you that so he assumes you like it. “I think it will. I think you’ll take every inch and scream my name.”

You pull him out of his jeans and squeeze him, starting to slowly pump him as his hands cup your tits. “Big words. Big words I’m not sure you can fulfill.” You taunt him, licking your lips as you clench around nothing.

He huffs and reaches for your waist, pulling you up to shove you onto the counter and spread your thighs. “That right?” He grunts, squeezing your thigh before he slides his fingers to your core and finds you dripping wet. “I think it’ll be nice and slick.”

“Fuck.” You whimper when his fingers find your clit. “You wanna find out?” You ask breathlessly, grinding back against his hard cock. “Joel. I need- I want you to fuck me.”

The next moment, Joel’s too busy lining up and pushing inside your hot, tight cunt to even think about birth control. Groaning as he pushes deep, he doesn’t stop until he's bottomed out inside you and one hand slaps down on the new granite countertop.

Your gasp echoes in the kitchen, your eyes sliding shut as he stretches you out. “Holy shit.” You whisper, “oh my God. You’re - I think you’re in my guts.” You admit, unable to believe how he feels inside of you.

Joel growls, loving how tight you are squeezing him. “That’s the point, little girl.” He reminds you cockily. “To let you feel it.” He pulls back and then slams back into you.

Your head drops back, your mouth open in a silent moan as the delicious friction slams you into the counter. “I feel it. I - fuck - I feel it.” You pant, eyes opening as you turn your head to look at him, loving the way his dark eyes seem almost black with his desire for you.

He start to fuck you, quick hard thrusts that have you gasping his name while your hips bang against the counter. Reaching up to cup your tits and squeeze harshly before pinching your nipples.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” You hiss as he fucks you hard and fast. You cover his hands with yours as much as you can, making him squeeze your tits even harder. “Joel. Feels - better than I imagined.” You confess in a squeal when he kicks your ankle to spread you wider so he can push impossibly deeper.

“Gonna- fuck, gonna make you scream.” He huffs, nearly out of breath from how hard he’s fucking you but his hips don’t stutter and he doesn’t slow down. “Want to hear you scream.” He bites down on your ear and lets go of one of your tits to rub your clit.

Your hands slap down on the counter and when his calloused fingers find your clit. “Oh my - fuck!” You squeal, thighs starting to shake as he pounds into you, rubbing your bundle of nerves. You haven’t been fucked like this in - never. You’ve never been fucked like this. “Yes. Yes. Yes! I’m gonna - oh shit. You’re gonna make me cum.” You confess in a wheeze as he rasps in your ear, “that’s it, little girl. Want you to soak my cock.” You shudder and your palms slide on the counter, slick with sweat as he works your body higher. “I’m gonna - Joel!” You shriek as you cum, clamping down on his cock.

Joel growls again and the slap of his hips against your ass becomes even more frantic, fucking you through the high of your orgasm and chasing his own. Groaning filthily into your ear at how tight you grip him, making his hips stutter as you ride out the pleasure. “Gonna give me another?” He hisses in your ear, still rubbing your clit. “Gonna soak me again and scream. I know it, I can feel it.”

Most men would’ve already been pushing deep and spilling inside of you but Joel is still going. Your jaw is dropped and senseless moans of obedience fill the kitchen as you wordlessly promise him you’ll cum again. His hips press against your ass, no doubt leaving bruises from the brutal way your hips are hitting the quartz counter. His fingers rub your clit and he slaps it after a few seconds. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he continues to ruin you. “Gonna - yes. Again.” You gasp out, walls starting to flutter around his cock.

His back is killing him and his knees feel like they are turning to rubber, but he doesn’t stop. Addicted to the way your body splits open for his cock and your walls hug him close. “That’s it. Cum for me, you naughty little girl.” He groans. “Tightest little pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

His raspy words send you over the edge. “Oh fuck. Joel!” You sob his name out, loud enough for the neighbors to hear as he fucks you by the kitchen window. You clamp down on his cock, soaking him and your knees give out but he presses you against the counter while he frantically fucks into you. “Cum inside of me. It’s safe.” You promise breathlessly, slumping down to rest your upper body on the cool counter as he continues to ram into you.

Joel grunts, his body curling around you and he holds onto the counter as he pounds into you. Feeling his own orgasm getting closer with every thrust while you clench around him. “Fuck, fuck.” He growls into your ear. “Gonna fill you up.”

“Yes yes yes. Do it. Oh God. Fuck me. Fill me up.” You beg, wanting to hear him when he climaxes. You turn your head to look at him, his jaw clenched as he rocks into you. “Cum for me, baby.” You plead and that’s his undoing. He grunts as he cums, his cock twitching while he paints your walls with his hot seed.

Joel closes his eyes, his forehead pressed to the nap of your neck as he rocks his hips shallowly. Making sure every drop of his cum spurts inside of you until he is done. “Fuck.” He hisses, enjoying the wave of pure bliss that floods his body and he pants to catch his breath. “You good?” He asks after a moment.

You nod, trying to catch your own breath. “So good.” You confess, looking back at him when he lifts his head from your neck. “Didn’t expect that to happen today but I’m glad it did.” You giggle and caress his forearms as he clings to you.

He pulls out of you slowly, not wanting to hurt you. Rocking back and reluctantly letting you go so he can tuck himself back into his jeans. “Feel a lot lighter now.” He snorts, snagging a paper towel to wipe you up.

“Maybe you can focus on the floor instead of watching me walk around in these tiny shorts I had to dig out of my case to tempt you with.” You giggle, reaching for your panties after he tosses the paper towel. “Took you long enough to make a move, Miller.”

Joel snorts, “maybe, spent enough time thinking about bending you over the bathroom tub.” 

You chuckle, grabbing your bra after pulling your tank top back on. “Mmm, now that sounds like a good time. You promise to do that?” You tease him, “but seriously, I want more sex if you want that. Nothing serious. Some fun and you’re - you’re the hottest man I’ve seen in a long time. I don’t want strings after what happened with my ex. I want to have fun. You up for that or is this a one time thing?” You gesture between you, wanting him to make a choice on if this happens again.

Joel contemplates your offer and shrugs. “Sounds like I would be a fucking idiot to turn down sex.” He folds his arms over his chest. “Especially with a woman as gorgeous as you are.” He’s not the best at paying compliments, but he likes the way you smile when he says that. You are gorgeous and you want him to fuck you, the least he can do is make you feel good.

You step closer to him, leaning in to kiss his jaw, “I gotta get back to work but I’ll see you later. This is gonna be fun.” You squeal as you step back and stride off to the stairs, making your way up to your room. Joel huffs, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head. You’re going to be trouble.

****

You bite your lip as Joel works on tiling your parent’s bathroom today. His shirt is off, leaving him in a tank top, a chain hanging from his neck, and you keep walking past to get a glimpse of him. “Stop starin’.” He orders and you lean against the door frame. 

“Can’t help it when you’re teasing me all day with those arms of yours.” Your cross your arms, letting your eyes trail down his body as he stands to turn and face you. His brother is downstairs working on the half bath and you know he can’t hear you flirting with his older brother.

“You gonna let me fuck you on my lunch break?” Joel asks, smirking as he looks up from the mortar line he is laying. “Tommy’s running some errands so I’m gonna just stay here and eat my sandwich like a good boy.” He chuckles when your thighs press together on instinct.

You smirk, “yeah? You gonna have your cake and eat it too? You know Tommy won’t be gone for too long and I can’t be quiet so you gotta be quick to make me scream your name and cum before you finish your lunch.” You step into the bathroom and lean on the vanity, pushing your tits together so they meet his gaze when he looks up at you again. “You think you’re up for the challenge, old man?”

“I could make you cum on my tongue now, little girl.” He growls, eyes dropping to your tits. “Then just fill that little pussy with my cum while he’s gone.” Joel smirks at you with glee, “but I don’t know if you can be that quiet.”

You inhale sharply, “I could try. You could keep me quiet. Use your fingers or - or my panties.” You test him, wondering if he’s bold enough to do this while his brother is downstairs. “I can be good.”

Joel chuckles quietly and drops his trowel into the bucket and groans slightly as he climbs to his feet. “Hand me your panties then get up on the counter.” He orders, grabbing his rag to wipe his face. “And spread your legs.”

You giggle, glad you are wearing a dress today while pushing your panties down, handing them to him, and you shift to sit on the vanity he installed the other day, spreading your legs. He’s so hot, his muscles moving while he wears that tank top and his jeans tight around his thighs. He shifts to stand between your legs and you tilt your head to kiss his chin.

Joel pushes your dress up even more, pleased that you are so eager to give him what he wants. He tilts his head down to press his lips to yours briefly, not really kissing you a lot but you haven’t chased kisses either so he wonders if you dont really like it. Balling up your panties, he smirks as he holds them to your lips. “Open up, little girl. You can’t make too many noises while I eat your pussy.”

You eagerly open your mouth for him, wiggling on the cool surface as you impatiently wait for his next move after he pushes the lace into your mouth. It’s dry and you swallow around them, cheeks full of the material and your eyes meet his as his hands trail along your inner thighs, a whine of need is muffled by your underwear.

“So impatient.” He chides, pinching the inside of your thigh slightly and then soothing it with a small rub. “Now-“ he grunts as he kneels back down. “You need to be quiet.”

You watch him, eyes dark with lust as he leans in, his hot breath washing over your wet pussy. You’re always so turned on around him. You’ve never experienced this kind of attraction to someone before. You’re like a magnet to him. You whimper around the material when his tongue slides through your folds. 

Joel doesn’t hesitate to lavish attention on your cunt, spreading your thighs apart with his hands you seem so obsessed with. Groaning at the first and second whimpers that you give him. You haven’t asked him for this, but he wants to, wants to have you cum for him. Loves making you cum and your thighs shake around his ears.

Your head tilts back to hit the wall where he hasn't installed the mirror yet. Your eyes closing as you arch your back so he can access more of you. You moan around the panties, his thumbs spreading your lips to suck on your clit.

Your thighs press his head and you roll your hips down, making Joel groan into your folds. You aren’t screaming yet, your moans are muffled by your panties and it’s thrilling. The door into the bathroom is still opened and your parents could come or Tommy could walk in at any moment. His eyes flicker up to watch your face as he sucks.

You couldn’t care less if someone sees you right now. His tongue is magic against your clit. Harsh but perfect as he sucks and licks. His fingers slide along your thighs, pushing your thighs back out to give him room to make you fall apart on his tongue.

He doesn’t rush you, keeping the rhythm of his tongue steady and he flicks his tongue against your hole before sucking on your clit again. Groaning quietly as he devours you.

You pant around the pace, your chest heaving as he works you higher. His tongue flicking and lapping then he sucks on your clit and your thighs start to shake around his head. His name is muffled as you moan it as you get closer and closer. When he pushes his tongue deep, curling it and his nose presses against your clit, you fall apart. Your cry is silenced but he knows you’ve fallen over the edge by the way your thighs squeeze his head.

He can feel the rapid pulse of your heart pumping blood through your veins and he loves it. Keeping his tongue curled up inside you, his curved nose pressed against your clit as he feels your arousal flood his tongue. Your thighs squeeze his head and he huffs slightly when your fingers grip his hair, not letting you push him away just yet.

You whine around your panties when it becomes too much, his tongue languidly swiping over your clit but you're too sensitive. Your hands finally succeed in pushing his head away and he smirks up at you, cocky because he made you fall apart under his tongue.

“Joel!��� Joel can move fast when he needs to, lurching to his feed and out the door while you are still sprawled on the counter. Tommy pauses at the door to the master bedroom. 

“Yeah?” He grumbles slightly. “Damn near thought you cut a finger off. What’re you yellin’ for?” Tommy snorts at the grumpy attitude of his older brother and shakes his head. 

“I’m headed out, you sure you don’t wanna grab a burger?” He offers, making Joel shake his head. 

“Nah, packed a lunch.” He smirks. “Even have dessert, ate that already though.” 

You scramble off of the vanity, shoving your dress down and spitting out your panties to shove them in your bra. Your face is burning from nearly getting caught but your pussy is throbbing from arousal at the fact that his brother nearly caught you. Tommy stares at his brother, eyebrows raised at his shiny chin, but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to when his older brother stares at him as if to say 'don't you dare.'

Tommy holds up his hands and smirks slightly. “Alright..uh, you should finish up the tile in there today?” He asks, nodding to the bathroom. 

“Yeah.” Joel nods and shoots daggers at his brother, wanting him to leave. “Have a good lunch.” He tells him pointedly. 

Tommy shakes his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips. He isn't dumb. He's seen the way you and Joel look at each other and he doesn't care so long as your parents don't get pissed and blame the company for Joel fucking their daughter while doing the renovations. He's happy that Joel is finally getting some. It's been a couple of years since Tess died and he deserves some happiness after so long. Tommy leaves, purposefully slamming the door shut and you come out of the bathroom, "oh God. He knows, doesn't he?" You ask Joel, slightly mortified.

“Tommy’s not stupid.” Joel answers. “He won’t say anything.” He wonders if you would want to stop now, ashamed that someone other than you and him might know. He grins at you and glances down at the slight bulge under your shirt. “Still not wearing any panties?” He asks lecherously. “Do you want me to fuck you in the bathroom or bend you over mommy and daddy’s bed?” He’s half joking, but he would do it if you wanted. 

You smirk, loving that he isn't put off by his brother knowing. "Oh God. I want - the bed. Want you inside of me. Want you to fill me up." You confess, knowing how wrong this is but your pussy is dripping as you stare at him, chest heaving.

“Lay down at the end of the bed.” Joel orders, reaching down to unbuckle his belt to unbutton his jeans. “Gonna put your legs up on my shoulders and fill your pussy with my cum right there on your parents bed like we’re fucking rebellious teenagers.” The fact that Joel’s not too much younger than your parents doesn’t matter, you make him feel younger.

You obey immediately, laying down on the bed and you shove your dress up to your waist. You watch him unbuckle his belt, his cock hard and aching as he pulls it out. You never get over the size of his length. “Fuck me, daddy.” You tease, spreading your legs for him.

“Fuck, do you want me to stay hard?” He huffs, pumping his cock in his hand and rolling his eyes at you. You giggle, not remorseful in the least and he shuffles forward. “I’m going to make you scream now that we are alone.” He warns with a smirk.

You moan when he slides his cock through your folds. “Please.” You whimper, your stomach clenching as you look up at him. “Want you to make me scream.” You demand, your hands caressing his forearms. He notches his cock at your entrance and grabs your wrists, lifting them over your head to press them into the mattress as he pushes into you.

“So goddamn tight.” He hisses. “Best little pussy I’ve ever fucked.” 

You love his compliments. He’s not a man of many words but fuck, he’s so sexy. Your feet are behind his head as he lifts your calves onto his shoulders, practically folding you in two as you take his cock. “Oh my God. I think you’re in my throat this time.” You pant, closing your eyes.

“Good.” He huffs, rocking his hips forward sharply as he moves your legs up from his waist to his shoulders. Leaning forward, he braces his hands on the bed, flashing a smirk before he starts to destroy your pussy.

You moan when he starts to move, pushing deep and hard. “Yes yes yes!” You squeal, your head tilting back and you close your eyes. 

“Look at me.” He demands, “fucking - keep your eyes open.” Your eyes flutter open and you look at him above you, his jaw clenched as he rocks into you. He stares down at you, his jaw clenched as he fucks you hard enough to shake the bed, the headboard starting to bang against the wall. “Fuck, dirty little slut.” He grunts. “So desperate for my cock you’re letting me fuck you on your parents bed.”

“Yes. Your - your slut. Oh God. Your cock. Only your cock drives me to do this.” You cry out, “so good. You - you fill me up so well.” You moan as he grinds deep into you. “Joel. So - so fucking good.” You cry as he fucks you hard and fast.

He can feel how close you are, bending down even more so he can press his lips to yours and the short hair above his cock grinds against your clit. “Cum.” He demands breathlessly. “Want you to cum.”

You practically wail, your eyes closing as you fall apart. “Oh my - Joel! Joel! Joel!” You squeal as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him with your cum.

Joel groans, eyes rolling back as you pack down around him. Having to really thrust his hips to move as he tries to work you through. “Fuck!” He yells, grabbing your thighs and straightening up as he continues to drill into you.

You watch him, your body pushed up the bed. “Come on. Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel it. Wanna feel you spill inside of me. Come on.” You egg him on, clenching around him as he drills into you until he stutters, his cock throbbing as he fills you up. “That’s it. Oh shit. Never gets old. Love watching you cum.”

Joel grunts and groans as he finally stops cumming. Panting and his work rough hands caress your legs. “Fucking love cumming in you.” He watches as he pulls out, spreading your thighs to watch his cum start to push out of your cunt. “That is a pretty sight.”

You giggle as he watches your pussy for a moment until he lets your legs down from his shoulders. “You wanna have your lunch?” You ask, knowing he’s gotta be hungry after that and he does need a lunch break. He nods and you gingerly shift off of the bed, “I’ll tidy up. Go eat.” You demand, rubbing his shoulder.

Joel tucks himself away and goes downstairs to where his lunch box is sitting in the kitchen. He really had packed a lunch because of Tommy and he opens it quickly. He knows that Tommy won’t say a word, but he will give him shit for taking too long on the lunch break.

****

You bite your lip as you watch Joel work, his shoulders moving with each motion of the brush while he paints the wall. He senses your presence and turns to look at you. Tommy is on a coffee run and your parents are out. "Hey trouble." He smirks at you and you step closer to him. 

"Hey handsome." You don't mess around, knowing you don't have a lot of time so you squeeze him through his pants.

“What are you doing?” He hisses, glancing around the room as if someone could walk in at any second. You laugh, making him glare at you and you squeeze him again. 

“I want to suck your cock.” You tell him, making him hiss again, this time his hardening cock jump against your palm. You smirk as he twitches under your touch. “No one is here. Just us.” You reassure him, your fingers sliding up to unbuckle his belt. Your nimble fingers unbutton his jeans and you reach in to pull out his half hard cock. “Wanna taste you.” You murmur as you shift to kneel down in front of him, paint splattered on his pants.

“Fuck.” Joel groans, looking down to find you watching him under your lashes while your tongue slides along the growing length of his cock. He’s never had someone blow him in their parents kitchen, and he’s not going to turn you down when you are so eager for it.

You kiss along his length as you feel him harden against your lips. His hands gripping the kitchen counter as he watches you. You moan when you wrap your lips around the head, loving the spurt of pre-cum hitting your tongue. Salty and all Joel. You can’t seem to get enough of him.

It’s fucking incredible, your mouth is hot and wet, tongue eagerly sliding against his shaft. You fucking take him deeper and the first groan bubbles out of his throat. Making you smirk, stretching your lips around him.

He hisses your name and you brace your hands on his thighs. The denim is rough under your palms and you keep your eyes on him. Your moan vibrates up his cock as you take him even deeper, your pussy throbbing at the groan that escapes his lips.

His hips push forward sharply, during his cock even deeper into your mouth. Making you gag as he grabs the back of your head and takes over. Holding you still while he thrusts into your mouth, loving how your hands grab at his hips and your throat contracts around him.

You let him use your mouth, the groans escaping his mouth combined with the grunts make you slide your hand into your shorts to rub your clit. Letting him hold your head and your eyes water as you allow him to use you.

“So fucking good.” He groans. “Don’t know what’s better, your pussy or your mouth.” He catches sight of your hand in your shorts and moans. “That’s right, play with your pussy while I fuck your throat, little girl.”

You moan around him again, choking a second later when he pushes deeper, the curls at the base of his cock brushing your nose, and you rub your clit a little faster. His hands still grip your head, using you and rocking his hips a little faster.

Even as often as Joel is getting sex, he’s still working himself close to cumming quickly. Your mouth is perfect, the pressure around his length too much for him to be able to stand for too long. “Gonna cum down your throat.” He promises. “Fill- fuck- you up.” His hips stutter and his stomach lurches. “Fuck- gonna-“ he chokes out a groan as his cock pushed deep down your throat and starts to throb.

Joel grunts as you swallow around him one more time, spent now the last spurts have been swallowed. His hand softens on your cheek and he stops rocking his hips, eyes looking at your own watery ones.

You let his softening cock drop from your mouth as he caresses your cheek and you offer him a soft smile, enjoying how relaxed he looks right now. “Fuck baby. So- you look so good.” You murmur, throat a little sore, “not stressed.”

He chuckles softly, smirking at you slightly. “Hard to be stressed when I just came.” He rubs his thumb over your lips. “How are you, little girl? You need to cum? Want me to rub your little clit?”

You nod, shifting to stand on shaky legs. He helps you up after tucking his cock away and spins you to press your against the counter where he was standing. “Joel.” You whimper when his hands squeeze your tits. “I want to cum.”

His hand slides down from your shoulder to your tit, squeezing it and then gliding down to your stomach. Hitting your shorts and diving under the elastic waistband, and groaning when he finds you’re not wearing any underwear. “Fuck baby.” He groans. “You’re always ready to take me. Ain’t ya?”

You nod, mouth falling open as his fingers find your clit. He’s been the best part of returning home. Working from your childhood bedroom has allowed you to run riot with Joel over your parents’ house and it’s been amazing.

“Thaaaat’s it.” He coos, smirking smugly at the way your body jerks and pulls taunt as he rubs. Knowing that he’s touching you exactly like you need to be touched. “Such a good girl for me. Doing so good. I know you want to cum.”

“Need to - God. Need to cum.” You pant, head tilting back as his calloused fingertips rub your clit expertly. He knows your body inside out by now. “Joel, baby. Shit. Know just what I need.”

He knows that you are just praising him because he’s giving you pleasure. He hums and presses his lips to the bottom of your ear. “You’re doing so good for me.”

You moan, “need - fingers inside of me.” You plead and he nods, shifting his hand further into your shorts so he can push two thick digits inside of your dripping pussy. “Yesss.” You cry, gripping his shirt as he pushes you into the counter.

He doesn’t stop, curling and pumping his fingers deep inside your cunt. Pressing you close and pushing his thigh between your legs to keep them splayed open. “Come on baby, soak my fingers.”

You pant, fingers curling in his shirt as he pushes you higher and higher. “Oh God. I -fuck Joel. Joel baby. I’m gonna - shit. Shit. Shit.” You cry out, clamping down on his digits as he sends you over the edge. His thumb pressed against your clit and you slump against him while your thighs shake against his knee.

Joel watched you closely, enjoying the way your entire body reacts to your pleasure and he hums softly. “That’s it. You just melt against me.”

You inhale deeply, leaning in to breathe him in. Your lips press against his neck, “so good.” You murmur as he withdraws his hand from your shorts just as the front door opens. Joel steps away from you immediately and your parents walk in. “Hey Joel. How’s it going?” Your dad asks and you exhale shakily, stepping over to the fridge Joel installed the day before.

“It’s going good.” Joel acknowledges, sliding his hands into his pockets and leaning back like he just hadn’t had his fingers buried in the other man’s daughter. “We should be finished up right on schedule. Just finishing the tile and trim and she’ll be done.” He glances around and the completely redone kitchen.

You are disappointed that Joel will be done sooner rather than later. You’ve had weeks of sex and you’re not sure what you’re going to do when he’s done. Luckily, he still has the bathrooms to finish along with the laundry room and the flooring in the bedrooms. “He’s done a good job so far.” You comment and your mom smiles, agreeing. “We are having a BBQ tomorrow with the neighbors. Weather is perfect and we wondered if you and Tommy wanna join us?” Your dad asks the older Miller brother.

“I- uh, yeah, sure.” Joel doesn’t often socialize with his clients, but he also doesn’t normally bang their daughters either. He bites his lip and shrugs. “What can I bring? I don’t know if I would trust something I cooked, but I can bring cups, beer, whatever you need.”

Your dad nods, “beer would be awesome. Just bring you and Tommy can bring Maria. Want to thank you guys for doing such an amazing job so far.” He says and reaches out to slap Joel on his upper arm. Your lover nods, his dark eyes glancing at you and you offer him a soft smile, wanting to let him know you want him to come to the cookout.

****

You see Joel across the lawn, sipping a beer and talking to Tommy and his wife, Maria. The entire street is here for the cookout and you sip your vodka seltzer while Darlene from two doors down talks to you about her lawyer son who would be ‘just perfect for you.’ “He sounds perfect for Sally’s daughter.” You point to the other woman who is talking to your mom and you make your way across the lawn to the Miller family. “Hey guys. Everyone is amazed by the kitchen and half bath. My parents have given your number out to nearly everyone here so you should be busy for the rest of the year.” You grin, shifting in your short sundress.

“Good.” Tommy looks very pleased by the prospect and rubs Maria’s back. “This is my wife, Maria.” He boasts. “And soon to be the next Miller.” 

Joel’s lips press together but he relaxes his jaw so it’s not obvious he’s uncomfortable. “That’s good.” He nods, holding up a case of beer in each hand. He has splurged on the good stuff since he didn’t think your dad drank PBR. “Where do you want these?”

You greet Maria, “I’ve heard a lot about you. All good things.” You promise, offering her a smile and she says “I’ve heard a lot about you too.” Her eyes look at Joel and he avoids his sister in law. “You can put them on the bar.” You tell Joel, escorting him over to the table full of buckets of ice and various drinks.

“Thanks.” He puts the beers down on the bar and turns towards you. “So…what now?” He asks. “I talk to all his friends about remodeling their bathrooms?” He chuckles quietly.

“That or…we could find somewhere private and you could show me how you manage to get your grout lines so straight?” You smirk, biting your lip and you glance around to make sure no one is watching you. “Unless you’d prefer I leave you with the neighborhood watch mom group over there?” You flick your eyes over to the gaggle of middle aged women who are not so discreetly eying Joel.

“Fuck no.” Joel snorts, looking over at the group of women and then shooting you an annoyed look. He doesn’t want to be fending off those vultures all night. “Where do you want to go?” He asks, wiping his hands on his jeans and feeling a little out of place even though he had showered and even trimmed up his facial hair for tonight. His jeans aren’t ripped or paint stained and his flannel shirt is practically new.

You trail your eyes along his figure, stomach twisting at how good he looks tonight. He smells good too. “I have a treehouse. Used to go in it when I was a kid. You want to join me in there? I might want to upgrade the flooring.” You tease, grabbing your drink and spinning around, you glance over your shoulder at him as you make your way through the yard to the treehouse.

Joel grabs a beer, ignoring the women who are staring after him and follows you outside. There’s enough people here that most of them are talking and not paying any attention when you disappear around the back of a tree and Joel reaches the base just in time to catch a glimpse of your bare ass as you climb. “Fuckin’ too old for this shit.” He grunts quietly, shoving his beer into his pocket and climbing up after you.

You giggle as he climbs up, “come on Miller. Where’s your sense of adventure?” You ask him as you step up onto the treehouse your grandfather built years ago. He was like Joel. Handy and an excellent craftsman. Your dad didn’t inherit the gift. “Gone when I turned 50.” He groans as he steps into the treehouse. It’s not creaking when he shifts his weight and he hums, impressed with the structure. You sit down on the beanbag, holding your drink up. “You look good for your age.” You hum, taking a sip.

He rolls his eyes and huffs as he sits down, knees creaking slightly. “For my age, huh?” He pulls the beer out of his pocket and opens the can. “To aging gracefully.” He toasts, holding the can up and then taking a sip of the cold brew.

You smile, watching him in your childhood treehouse is a bizarre experience but you love it. “You do look really good tonight.” You compliment him, “I like the clean look a lot. I do think I like the dirty look more, though. Rugged, sexy, capable.” You flirt, “and you can still get it up.” You tease, “most of the time.” You joke about the time he was about to fuck you and your parents’ old fashioned house phone voice sounded out their voicemail. Your dad telling you to take the chicken out of the freezer. He went soft as soon as he heard your dad.

“Can’t believe you still hold that against me.” He snorts. “Been thirty fuckin’ years since I’ve been worried about somebody’s daddy walkin’ in.” He grunts, staring at the way your thighs spread teasingly. His cock twitches in his jeans and like every time he’s around you, he starts to harden. “So did you bring me up here to fuck?” He asks. “Or just get away from everyone?”

“Both.” You tilt your head, “I don’t - I have to confess, I’ve never been so sexually attracted to anyone. I want you. All the time. Like I even touch myself thinking about you at night.” You know you’re giving him all the cards but you mean what you say. “So…we can talk since I saved you from the neighborhood ladies flirting with you and the husbands asking for your advice on their latest DIY project…or we can fuck and you gotta keep me quiet since they could definitely hear us up here.”

“How wet are you?” Joel asks, eyeing the exposed skin as your thighs spread again. You’ve talked between flirting and fucking, but the idea of you walking around the party dripping his cum is one he really likes.

You bite your lip and lift your dress higher, spreading your legs to expose your wet folds to his dark gaze. “Soaking wet for you. Ever since you walked into the party.” You confess, sliding your hand down to rub your clit.

“Spread your lips apart.” Joel orders quietly. “Rub slower.” He twitches in his jeans and reaches down to palm himself as he watches you touch yourself. You’ve not really had time for more than frantically rushed fucking, so now he can watch you. See what you like to do to yourself when you’re thinking about him.

You set your drink down and reach down with your other hand, spreading your lips to show him your puffy clit. Your eyes on him as you slowly rub the bundle of nerves and he squeezes his cock through his jeans. You like the way he’s ordering you.

“That’s good, just like that.” He grunts. “Slide your fingers through your slick and then rub your clit again. Gotta make sure you’re nice and wet. But you’re always so fucking wet.” He unbuttons his jeans and reveals that he’s not wearing any underwear, pulling out his cock and then spitting in his hand to wrap around it and pump slowly.

You whimper, mouth almost watering when you see this thick cock in his hand. You follow his order, sliding your fingers down to gather up your slick and you bring it back to your clit, rubbing it a little faster. “Always wet around you. Just looking at you gets me wet. Especially - shit - especially when you strip your shirt off or wear your tank top.”

“Like that, huh?” He grunts and rocks his hips up, working himself into his fist. “You enjoy being fucked. That pretty pussy needs to be fucked as often as possible.”

You whine slightly as he pumps his cock a little faster. “Joel. Please. Let me - let me sit on your cock. Wanna feel you inside of me. Want you to cum inside of me.” You beg pathetically, pulling your hand away from your clit.

“What are you waiting for?” He demands, still pumping himself. “You want to ride, you have to come to me.” You’ve never ridden him before but he wants to see your tits bounce in his face. “Pull out your other tit and come sit on my cock.”

You pull down the straps of your dress, exposing your tits and you shift out of the bean bag, straddling his thighs and he holds his cock up so you can sink down on him. “Fuckkk.” You whimper, eyes fluttering closed as he stretches you out.

“Shhhh shhhh.” He covers your mouth with his hand, the other behind your neck to hold you firm while he bottoms out in your aching pussy. “Silent.” He whispers, knowing that no one at the party can hear, but you will get loud if he doesn’t warn you. Breathing against his fingers, he groans quietly when your pussy flutters. “You like that, huh?” He grunts. “Holding your mouth closed while you ride my cock? Is that how to keep you quiet?”

Your hands grip his wrist, eyes wide as you nod. You want him to keep you quiet. His cock twitches inside of you and you whimper against his palm. “Shhhh.” He coos, “ride me.” He demands softly and you nod, lifting your thighs to pull up off of his cock nearly all the way. You sink back down onto him.

He watches you, feeling the shuddered breaths against his palm, warming it. Thinking that you are fucking gorgeous and too good for him as you grind back down into his lap. Wanting him as deep as possible while you lean back to find the perfect angle for his cock inside you. “Good girl.” He praises, voice low. “Make yourself cum.”

You love his voice. Deep and gruff. His orders have you fluttering around his cock already. Knowing that anyone at the party could figure out that you are together, up here, having sex. Your nails dig into his forearm slightly and you rock a little faster, your thighs aching but you don’t care. You want to cum and you want him to follow you.

Joel’s hips stay down, letting you have complete control of the ride, although he pulls you up straighter by your head. Just enough for him to duck down and wrap his lips around one of your nipples. Biting it before sucking it onto his mouth and lavishing attention on it.

You cry into his palm, muffled as he bites down on your nipple and you tangle your fingers in his hair as you ride him a little faster. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you find the right angle for the head of his cock to rub against your g-spot.

Joel grunts, sucking and biting on your breast while you gallop on his cock. Loving how your moans are muffled by his hand and his cock twitches. He loves how you demand pleasure and are willing to take it for yourself.

You moan into his palm, so close to your orgasm. He switches to your other nipple and it sends you over the edge. You clamp down on his cock, soaking him and your cry threatens to bubble past his palm but he presses his hand harder against your mouth to smother your cry. His groan is soft against your breast as you grip him and you shake above him.

Your hands slide down from his hair to his shoulders, caressing his upper back as he paints your walls with his cum. His hand drops from your mouth as he grips your waist and you rest your head on top of his. “So good, baby. So fucking good.” You gasp, “can’t get enough of you.”

Joel chuckles quietly as you both ride out your orgasms, panting softly. “I can tell.” He teases quietly, running his hand down your spine. “Good baby?”

You nod against his head, “so good. Fuck, Joel. Wish you could stay inside of me alllll the time.” You tease, running your fingers through his salt and pepper locks. “I am gonna be dripping your cum at this party.”

“I know.” He smirks at you and waggles his brows. “I’ve thought about that before you ever even climbed in my lap.” He pats your hip lightly, leaning back and sighing, relaxed and loose now. He picks up his beer and takes a swallow, his cock softening inside you.

You watch him, your gaze softening until you clear your throat and shift off of his lap. You grab your own drink after you pull your dress into place, sitting down in the bean bag. Joel is quiet as he sips his beer and you shift in the bean bag. “I’m gonna head down, clean up. Come down whenever you’re ready. It’s better that we are seen separately.” You murmur, groaning as you stand up and his cum starts to drip down your thigh. You wink at him as you climb down the ladder and make your way into the house to clean up. When you come out of the bathroom, you are grabbing a snack in the kitchen when your mom approaches you. “Sweetheart, we - your dad and I wanted to talk to you. We noticed you and Joel go up to your treehouse and we - we’ve seen the way you look at him. You’re an adult and after what that asshole did to you, you deserve to have some fun but honey…Joel is complicated.” You open your mouth to respond but she shakes her head, “you don’t know his past. You’ve been away from home for a long time and we - your dad knew Joel from his coworkers. Joel lost his daughter. She was thirteen. He lost her and his wife - she left him when his daughter was two. He’s got a lot of baggage and I’m worried that he will hurt you because he doesn’t want to - he’s not the dating kind.” She explains and your jaw clenches. 

“Mom, I don’t want to date him. We are having fun. Please…I know I have kept this for you. Been doing this under your roof and I’m sorry for that but I’m not sorry about Joel. He’s fun and I- I deserve to have some fun. I’m not marrying the guy.” You scoff, crossing your arms. She nods and grabs her wine glass, neither of you aware that Tommy was lingering in the hallway.

Tommy finds Joel nursing a beer and listening to one of your father’s neighbors talk about the bathroom that he wanted to remodel. Obviously wanting a quote, sight unseen. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Tommy asks Joel, nodding in apology to the potential customer. Once he gets him alone, Tommy shuffles nervously. “So I heard something…..” 

Joel clenches his jaw as Tommy relays the conversation that he had heard between you and your mother. “Right.” He spits after a moment, glancing over at you and then back at his brother. “Think I’m going to call it a night.” He decides.

You frown when you don’t see Joel anymore and you ask Tommy where he went. The younger Miller brother is a little cold towards you and tells you his brother went home, decided to call it a night. You nod and thank him and Maria for coming when he tells you they are leaving. You’re confused Joel didn’t say goodbye but you suppose that’s his MO. 

****

The next day, Joel is back working in the house and you glance around to see where Tommy is before you waltz over to him, a smile on your face. “Hey handsome. Working in my bedroom today?” You ask, “I need some help moving the bed.”

Joel looks up at you for a brief moment and then back down at his tools. “Tommy and I will move it. I’d prefer it if you weren’t in the room.” He tells you. “Liability.” He doesn’t look back up and doesn’t say another word while you are standing there waiting for him to take you up on your obvious overture.

Your smile falls, his gaze turning back to his tools and you deflate. “Oh, uh, okay. Sure. I can take my work to the living room.” You step back, wondering if he’s had a bad morning. You leave the hallway without another word and grab your laptop, heading downstairs to work. Later that afternoon, Tommy is out getting their lunch and you walk into your bedroom to find Joel working on ripping up the old carpet. “You need a drink?” You hold out the bottle of water, “figured you could use a break while you wait for Tommy to get back.” You bend over so he can look down your shirt at your tits.

“I’m good.” He doesn’t look up, not wanting to see your tits or your legs on display. “Have a bottle over there.” He doesn’t even stop working and just nods his head towards his tool bag. “Be finished by tomorrow.” His words are short and clipped.

There’s definitely something wrong. You frown and huff, standing up straight and you don’t leave right away. You uncap the bottle and tilt your head back, chugging half the water. With a dramatic sigh of satisfaction, you spin on your heel and leave the room.

Joel continues working but he sighs, hating that he had ever thought that you would want him. He was stupid, he had started to care about you. Way too much, it was better to just keep things professional between you. He was the contractor, nothing more.

****

A couple of days pass by and you ignore Joel and Tommy’s presence in the house, deciding to work at some coffee shops instead, but today is a gorgeous day. The sun is shining, you don’t need to work, so you decide to sit in the sun and have a drink. You walk into the kitchen where Joel is sitting, looking over his materials, and you open the fridge to grab a drink while dressed in the smallest bikini you own. Just because he’s ignoring you doesn’t mean he won’t notice you. Maybe he’s in a bad mood. You’d forgive him if he touched you again.

The muscles in Joel’s jaws have been getting a workout. Clenching every time you walk into a room half naked and primping around. He knows what you are doing and it’s starting to piss him off. He's ached for days, having to go home and jerk off after work every night like he’s a teenager again. “Need to put some fucking clothes on.” He grumbles under his breath.

You turn your head to look at him, “did you say something?” He shakes his head and you hum, taking your drink outside to the sun loungers your parents had bought for the summer. You sigh as you lay down in view on the kitchen window. Taking off your top to sunbathe.

It takes him about fifteen minutes to notice you. Hissing in anger when he sees your tits on display. He grabs one of his work rags and stalks outside angrily. “Cover yourself up.” He growls, tossing the rag over your chest. “My fucking brother doesn’t want to see your tits and his wife certainly doesn’t want him to.”

You glare at him from behind your sunglasses. “Your brother isn’t here, asshole.” You toss the rag back at him. “It’s my day off. I wanted to relax and you are interrupting that.” You hiss at him, “and it’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.”

“Fuck this.” He growls. “I’m done for the day.” He’s pissed off and needs to get away from you.

You huff, grabbing the rag back. “You don’t need to leave. I’ll go inside. If you leave, you’ll need more time to finish your work and I don’t want you staying longer than necessary. You might as well stay and I’ll go inside. Give you a break from my tits.” You growl, shifting to stand up from the lounger.

“I’m just the help, right?” He scoffs. “Someone to use and have fun with?” Hearing what you had said hurt because Tommy had said you had seemed appalled that your mother figured it out. “So I think it’s best that I keep things professional. So there’s no confusion. Not like you’d want people to know you were getting fucked by the carpenter.” He shakes his head. “I’ll have Tommy finish up this job.”

“I- I didn’t - you heard my conversation with my mom? I was - I was trying to save your ass. It’s not exactly professional to sleep with your client's daughter. I- it was fun. Until you decided to be an asshole. I figured you wanted to keep it casual and I want to know more about you but we don’t exactly have time to sit down and tell our life story.”

“Tommy heard you.” He corrects, wondering if you’re just trying to cover your ass or if you were trying to protect him. He waits for a moment, biting his lip. “If you want to know about me, I’ll be at Bill & Frank’s tonight.” He tells you, planning on going to the dive bar that Frank has tried to make a little more classy. “Up to you.”

You nod, knowing it’s best to not push him anymore right now. You grab your bikini top and head inside, deciding to leave him be and meet him later. You head back inside and you don’t look back, figuring that he’d want to be left alone. 

****

You brush your dress down, looking up at the crooked sign for Bill and Frank’s and you inhale deeply. Reaching for the door, you head inside and it’s a weird mix of old fashioned saloon and an afternoon tea shop. Lace doilies on the tables with small lamps and worn coasters. The artwork on the wall says “eighty year old woman” while the floor is sticky.

“Well that doesn’t walk in here often.” Bill grunts, looking at the door with an almost annoyed glare, which was normal for the cantankerous bar owner. “Trouble if I’ve ever seen.” 

Joel looks over his shoulder to see you and snorts. “Surprised you noticed.” He huffs at the other man, smirking slightly when the bearded man shifts his glare to him. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Frank.” He’s sort of friends with Bill and Frank, the proprietors of the little bar. Or it’s better to say, Tess was really good friends with Frank, so Bill and Joel had tolerated each other. After Tess had died, Joel had found himself still coming back.

You spot Joel at the bar and make your way over. He turns to look at you, “hey.” He grunts and you offer him a soft smile as he pulls the bar stool out next to him for you to sit down. He slides the shot he had sitting in front of him over to you and you don’t hesitate to tilt your head back as you down it. Bill snorts, wiping down the counter, “what can I get you?” He asks and you order a beer. “I didn’t know if you’d be here. You didn’t give me a time.”

“Sorry.” He grunts, lifting his beer to his lips and takes a sip. “Figured you’d come and I’d be here.” Bill chuckles as he wipes down the bar with a rag, smirking slightly at the sight of Joel and another woman. “You on a date, Miller?” He cackles.

“Joel is working on my parents’ house.” You explain and Bill snorts, “this is the hussy that’s got you running around in circles?” He asks and your eyebrows raise. Joel shakes his head, “go get her drink and get Frank out here if you can’t be nice.” He orders and you huff, “been talking me up, huh?” Joel shrugs and you sigh, “I suppose I deserve that. I haven’t exactly treated you fairly. It wasn’t just fun for me. I wanted more.” You admit softly, looking down at the counter.

Joel snorts as Bill walks away and cuts you a look before he takes another sip of his beer. “I’m old, little girl.” He reminds you. “You’re a hell of a lot younger, wanting things I can’t give you. Like kids and shit.”

You tap your fingers on the counter, closing your eyes for a second. “We never had a discussion about birth control other than me telling you it was taken care of. The truth is…my ex cheated on me.” You take a deep breath, “he cheated on me because I found out I’m infertile. We tried for a year. Figured we would do the tests when we discovered that I can’t - I have PCOS and it was bad. They did some tests and scans and I had to have my ovaries removed then he - he cheated on me. She’s pregnant. That’s why I moved home. I was in his house and I was sure he was going to propose since he seemed to accept that we wouldn’t have biological kids but he - he cheated and I moved home. So to answer your question, I can’t have kids.”

“What a fucker.” He growls, angry on your behalf. “That’s a shit thing to do.” He will never understand someone’s need to cheat. Those people are complete scumbags in his eyes and he’s done a lot of shit he’s regretted. “I’m sorry, you deserve better than that douche bag. It doesn’t matter if you can’t give him kids.”

You nod, “it did to him. I’m glad I found out what he’s really like. Better to happen like that instead of when we have had adopted two kids and I’m stuck with him.” You confess just as another man comes over to set your beer down along with another for Joel. The man, you assume he is Frank, says your name. “Right? The pretty girl you’ve been telling us about. She’s as beautiful as you described, Joel.” Frank says and you fluster, looking at Joel who is busy studying the grain of wood on the counter. “There’s a condom machine in the bathroom.” Frank winks as he walks off to serve another patron.

“Jesus Christ.” Joel hisses under his breath, squirming slightly in his seat in embarrassment. “Gonna stop fucking coming here.” He gripes even as he picks up his new beer.

You giggle softly, “he heard all the details, huh?” You tease and you nudge him gently. “It’s fine. I didn’t know you cared so much, Miller.” You take a sip of your beer and glance around the bar, feeling someone’s eyes on you. A man, younger than Joel but shorter, is staring at you and you offer him a nod before you turn back to the counter.

Joel glances around and doesn’t really think anything of the people in the bar. Plenty of people are flirting and having a good time. Frank is down the bar waiting on another couple and he wonders if you want to get some food.

Frank sets another round of drinks down in front of you after he serves the couple down the bar. “On the house. It’s been a while since I saw Joel smile. Especially not since Tess died.” He says and you frown, turning to look at Joel.

He owes you an explanation. “Tess was my- we were-“ he fumbles for the proper way to describe his relationship with Tess. The ache was still there, deep inside him just like when he lost Sarah. “She was mine.” He finally settled on just that. “She died. Two years ago.”

You can see the pain in his eyes, losing someone else that he loved. Your dad told you more about Joel losing his daughter, Sarah, to a gunman in a gas station robbery that went wrong. Your heart aches for him. You reach for his hand, “I’m so sorry, Joel.” You murmur, knowing that there’s nothing else you could say.

Sorries always make Joel uncomfortable. It can’t change the past or bring back Sarah, or Tess. “Thanks.” He mumbles and drains the rest of his first beer. “I need to piss.” He tells you as he stands. “Be right back.”

You nod, watching him go. You take a sip of your beer and sense a presence beside you as soon as Joel disappears. “Hey baby. You done babysitting the old man? Wanna have some real fun?” He asks and you scoff, “he’s not old.” 

The guy leans against the counter next to you. “Bet he needs viagra to get it up.” He scoffs and you snort, “that ‘old man’ can make my legs shake and make me moan his name more than anyone I’ve ever met.” You say and he says, “until you met me.” He smirks, leaning in and you jerk back. 

“Please fuck off.” You order, hating how he won’t take the hint. “Come on baby, don’t be mean. Gimme a chance to make you cum.” He coos, reaching for your wrist. 

“Get the fuck off of me.” You hiss, trying to jerk your wrist out of his grip but he doesn’t let go.

Joel comes out of the bathroom, walking into the bar and the first thing he sees is you trying to pull your arm out of some asshole’s grip. The fucker not letting you go and Joel’s jaw clenches and his fists bunch together. “Oh shit.” Frank hisses, knowing what that look means. “Joel! Joel! Don’t do it! Joel!” Joel doesn’t even hear him as he crosses the bar in less than ten seconds and is dragging the asshole off of you. Whirling him around and punching him down to the ground before climbing on top of him and whaling away in an angry haze.

Your eyes widen and a shocked gasp escapes your lips as Joel continues to punch the asshole. “Joel. Joel. Stop!” You demand, knowing he’s going to kill the guy if you let him continue. You reach for his shoulder as he pulls his fist back again but he shrugs you off, his vision going red. Bill rushes around the bar, grabbing Joel’s waist to pull him off of the guy before he punches his face in. “Come on, man.” Bill grunts, dragging Joel off just enough for Frank to get in front of him. “Go. You gotta go.” Frank tells you when he hears someone calling 911. “Take Joel. Go.” Frank urges, knowing Joel can’t afford another arrest. “Motherfucker.” Joel growls, trying to get out of Bill’s grip. 

“Stop it,” Bill growls, spinning him to drag him out of the bar. You nod, grabbing your purse and Bill escorts Joel to his truck. “Drive him home.” He orders, shoving Joel into his truck, his fists bloody and skin broken. Your hands shake, taking the key from Bill that he pulled out of Joel’s pocket. You get into the driver’s seat, adjusting the seat, and you barely manage to start the engine. “You- you gotta tell me where you live.”

Joel doesn’t answer you right away, staring down and his hand and flexing it to make sure nothings too broken. Just a few hairline fractures from what he can tell with the adrenaline still running through his system. “Joel!” You snap, making him look up at you, his eyes dark and focused, causing you to nearly shrink back from him. “Where do you live?” You repeat and he knows he’s in no condition to drive. He murmurs his address and then looks back down at his hand, sirens wailing in the distance.

You drive a little faster when you see the flashing lights on the horizon, wanting Joel to get home safe and sound. Your heart is still pounding but you manage to figure out his street and pull onto it, squinting to see the numbers in the dark. Finally, you pull onto his drive and put the truck in park, killing the engine. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” You murmur, getting out of his truck and rounding it to open the door for him.

Joel follows your instructions, getting out of the truck and following behind you as you climb the steps to the front door of his house. The old craftsman cottage has been a project for him, one that he needed after Tess, but now it is done and it is a beauty.

You unlock his door with the key on his truck key ring and you admire the workmanship that went into the home. Signs of Joel’s hard work are everywhere. You shut the door behind him when he walks in. “Do you have a first aid kit?” You ask and he nods, “laundry room.” He jerks his chin towards the door across the hall and you nod, “go sit” you order before you go find the kit.

He should tell you to go, but he just sits down at the dining room table and sighs. His hand hurts, but he’s fucking still amped up. His leg bouncing slightly as his pulse just jumps around.

You come into the dining room to sit down, opening the kit. Your stomach twists as you look at Joel, the dark look from earlier still not receding from his eyes. You’re silent as you work on cleaning the blood to assess the damage to his knuckles.

He wants you. The way his cock is twitching and throbbing as you work on him, it should scare him. Scare you. Your thumb brushes over his knuckle and he grabs your hand, making you look at him. “You should go.” He growls.

Your eyes meet his and you realize he doesn’t want you to go. You stare at him for a few moments, trying to figure him out until you say “no.” You won’t go. Not when he needs you and you need him. Sometime between the messing around and having sex, it became serious.

“I’m not going to be gentle.” He warns, wanting to be honest. “I can’t be. Not now, not when my fucking-“ he cuts himself off. “Last chance.”

You take a moment to wrap his knuckles. “I don’t want gentle.” You tell him, your eyes meeting his after you finish wrapping his knuckles with the bandage. “I want you. No matter what. I want you.” You promise, your gaze firm, showing him that you’re not running away.

Joel shoots out of his chair and grabs your shoulders, kissing you roughly, his lips bruising. He wants to destroy you, completely break you apart in a completely different way from how he would have handled that bastard. Wanting to banish the thought of him touching you from his mind and replace it with you.

You gasp into his mouth, his hands lifting you up onto the table and you grip his shirt, wanting to keep him close. Your legs wrapping around his waist and his cock is hard in his pants, pushing into your core. His tongue slides into your mouth and your hands slide up to tangle in his hair, tugging as you react to his rough touch.

Joel growls, biting your bottom lip and it’s like he’s lost all reason on control. He wants nothing more to break you down. His hands are rough and demanding, nearly ripping your dress off your body.

You reach out, fumbling to unbutton his shirt. Every time you’ve had sex, he’s been dressed. Tonight, you want to see all of him. You grow impatient and rip his shirt, buttons flying as you shove it down his shoulders to access his skin. Your hands explore his chest when the shirt hits the floor and you lean in, biting down on his peck.

He grunts, cock twitching and he squeezes your hands before he rips your panties off of you. Willing to sacrifice them to his needs.

“Oh my God!” You squeal at the ripping of your underwear. “Joel!” You gasp, moaning a second later when his fingers push inside of your dripping wet cunt. You slide your hands down to his belt, unbuckling it and you rip it out of the loops, working fast to unbutton his jeans and pull his hard cock out.

Joel pushes your hands away but you press your thighs together when he tries to step between them. “Strip.” You demand and he growls, needing to be inside you.

Joel kicks his boots off, his jeans hitting the floor and he shoves them across the floor. Naked in front of you for the first time, you lean back to admire his form. His arms are strong, freckled from being in the sun, and he has a slight belly but it’s so sexy. He’s not overly hairy and your hand lets go of his cock so you can caress his skin. “So gorgeous.” You murmur, lost in your own thoughts as you admire him.

Joel huffs, shaking his head. “I’m old, you’re gorgeous.” It’s the small bit of tenderness he can manage right now, but when he grabs you, his hands are harsh. “You’re not letting that fucker touch you.” He hisses, pushing your thighs apart. “He couldn’t fuck you like I do.” He grabs your leg and pulls it up on his hip, lining up and slamming his cock into your warm and giving cunt in one thrust.

“Joel!” You squeal as he stretches you out. You’re wet enough to take him but it pinches slightly. You don’t care. You grip his arms, lifting your thigh higher so he can push deeper inside of you. “Fuck baby.” You pant, tilting your head back as he starts to fuck you.

The table rocks, shaking and scrapping over the floor as he fucks you. Brutally slamming into you before quickly pulling back out to do it again. Savage and feral, his mouth bites and sucks at your tilted throat, needing to possess and mark you as his.

He’s possessing you with every thrust, bite, mark, and kiss. You’re surrounded by him. His woodsy smell from the lumber he works with in your nose and you moan, fumbling to cross your ankles behind his back to get him even closer.

He might break the fucking table, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is the way you take him. Your pussy giving way to the harsh thrusts of his cock and squeezing tight around him. He growls and groans, making noises that sound inhuman as he fucks you.

“Joel. Oh my God.” You cry out, your hands scrambling to grip him, needing an anchor as he fucks you hard and fast. It’s harder than anything you’ve ever experienced. Feral and dominating but your cunt is absolutely gushing around him, your stomach clenched with arousal as he rocks into you. “Shit. You’re gonna make me cum.” You pant, reaching down to rub your clit, knowing he’s focused on thrusting into you.

He knows he should ease up, that you deserve tenderness but he doesn’t have it in him right now. The rage, the fury, all being taken out on your pussy. “Cum.” He grunts, the sound nearly demonic from how raspy he sounds. “Cum.”

How can you deny him when he asks you like that? He pounds into you two more times and you’re sent over the edge. Clamping down on him, your scream echoes in his house and your hand falls away from your clit to slam onto the table to keep yourself upright.

Joel hisses your name, so fucking close to cumming himself. It’s so sexy how easily you cum for him. Hips stuttering, he only manages another few thrusts before he is cumming, painting your walls with his cum as he moans your name again, softly this time.

You slump against him when he cums, his cock twitching inside of you, and you moan softly when he rests his head on top of yours. “Joel.” You murmur, throat closing slightly with emotions that you can’t give voice to.

Panting, he closes his eyes, his hands slowly relaxing and he sighs. “Are you- did I hurt you?” He asks softly. He hadn’t wanted to actually hurt you, despite being rough.

You shake your head, “no. No you didn’t, baby.” You promise, leaning in to kiss his chin and he sighs, turning his head to press his lips to yours. It’s surprisingly tender after how rough he fucked you. You cup his cheeks, caressing the gray stubble there to show him how much you care for him without actually telling him.

“Do you want to stay?” He nuzzles his nose against yours, realizing you must have left your car at the bar. He hasn’t even pulled out of you, but he doesn’t really want to. Suddenly tired and ready for bed after the evening.

“Yes.” You nod, knowing it’s too late to head home. He pulls out of you, slow enough to not hurt you, and you shift off of his table that has scraped along the floor. “Can I borrow a shirt?” You ask, watching him bend down to grab his jeans, pulling them on.

“Yeah, come on baby.” He uses his shirt to wipe up his cum and grabs you a bottle of water out of the fridge. “I’ll get you a shirt you can sleep in. Or you can sleep naked beside me.” He jokes, smirking at your wobbly footing when you stand up.

You’re soon dressed in his shirt, sliding under his sheets that smell just like him, and you’re exhausted. The events of the day hit you hard and you curl around him when he slides in beside you, water bottle placed on your nightstand.

Joel doesn’t like sleep, he dreams too much. Of Sarah, Tess and all the mistakes he has made over the years. Haunting him and weighing him down. Tonight, wrapped around you, Joel doesn’t dream.

The next morning, you wake up and groan against the sunlight peeking in through the blinds. “Joel?” You call out softly, voice raspy. The smell of bacon and eggs hits your nose and you get out of bed, peeing before you head downstairs to the kitchen. Your eyes widen when you find Joel cooking and sitting at the counter is a teenage girl.

“Holy shit, Joel! You had a sleepover.” Ellie pipes up, making Joel turn around from the stove. “Ellie! Language!” He hisses before he catches sight of you. “Hey! Uh, good morning. I’m making breakfast.” He explains, as if it weren’t obvious. Ellie snaps her fingers and says your name. “That’s you, right? Joel’s been talking about you.”

You are trying to figure out who Ellie is. You haven’t heard a word about her from Joel. “Oh, uh, yeah. Hi Ellie.” You greet her as you come over to Joel who is cooking. “Coffee is in the pot.” He says and you nod, grabbing the mug he left on the side and you pour yourself a cup. You feel awkward in his shirt, your hair all over the place, and you can feel Ellie watching you.

“Joel, Joel, Joel.” Ellie tsks and shakes her head before leveling a mockingly serious look at him when he slides her eggs onto her plate. “Do we need to have the talk, young man?” She snickers. “Are you engaging in safe sex?” She lowers her voice to a pitch that matches the old sex Ed videos. “Jesus Christ.” He hisses. “Don’t you have school?”

You smirk, finding it refreshing that the teenager is prodding at an otherwise always cool headed Joel. “Safe sex. I’ve looked after him.” You promise her as you lean against the counter and she chuckles, “he was practically soppy when I came in this morning. I slept over at my friend Riley’s house.” She explains and you nod, a little relieved she didn’t hear you and Joel last night. “I’m leaving for school after I’ve had my breakfast.” She adds, looking over at you. “I'm his foster kid, in case this dumbass didn’t tell you.” Ellie says, guessing from your look that you didn’t know about her. “I, uh, I’m sorry. Joel hasn’t really told me much.”

“Got lunch money, kid?” He asks, reaching into his pocket and pulling out some money. “It’s pizza day right?” He asks, smirking when she nods and snatches the money out of his hand before she shoves the eggs into her mouth and pops off the stool. “Well, see ya!”

“Bye!” You call out as she rushes off and you turn to look at Joel. “Another secret you’ve been keeping.” You tease softly and he snorts, “not a secret. Just didn’t want to drag you into my bullshit.” You shake your head, “that’s not bullshit. You- she seems like a good kid and you’re looking after her. You’re a good man, Joel. One I want to know more about. One I could easily fall for…maybe have been already.” You confess, reaching out to touch his arm.

“You….” Joel frowns slightly, setting a plate in front of you. “You like the fact that I’m an asshole?” He asks it like a question, one that he never considered before.

“I love the fact that you’re an asshole. You’re not an asshole to me…most of the time. I’ve never felt so wanted. I want - I want all of you, Miller. Even the asshole.” You joke, slightly flustered at your confession.

Joel shuffles uneasily and sighs. “I’m not good with words.” He admits, looking around the kitchen that he had once shared with Tess. “I didn’t- I don’t really share emotions.” He had realized that when she had thought he hadn’t felt the same way about her. That he hadn’t loved her. He had been raw about that for a long time, although the kid didn’t deserve to blame herself for Tess getting bit. Who the fuck would have ever thought a woman would die of rabies during this day and age? He looks back at you. “I can fuck you until you scream, protect you. Cook you breakfast. But that might not be enough for you.”

You reach up to cup his cheeks, bringing his eyes to yours. “That is enough. You are enough. I’m damaged too. Let’s not put pressure on this. We aren’t first loves. We aren’t teenagers. We are grown ass adults who can communicate. I don’t want a fairytale, I’ve been hurt before by silly dreams and fake promises. I want real. You’re real. I want you.” You assure him, your eyes burning into his.

Joel watches you for a moment and then gives a small nod. Agreeing with you. After last night, he’s not giving you up. You’re his. “I don’t break promises.” Joel tells you. “Not if I can help it.”

You nod, leaning in closer to kiss him softly. “I know, baby.” You murmur and he nudges his nose against yours. “I’m here to stay, baby. Especially with the way you cook bacon.” You grin, taking a slice off of the paper towel and biting into it. “You might want to stay at your parent’s house all the time when we are finished with it.” He jokes and you snort, shifting to sit down at the counter while he plates up the food. “I don’t think so, baby. Might have to convince my parents to add an extension. Keep you working for them.” You tease and Joel snorts, “you can have my cock for free.” He promises and you wink at him, swallowing the bacon. “Now that sounds like a good deal.” You smile and Joel chuckles, knowing that this job might’ve turned into the best one of his career. Not only did he get paid, he got a bonus: you.

[chelseypprimrose]

The Boy’s a Liar / bfd!Negan x Reader / no-apocalypse AU 🧟

Warnings: daddy kink, breeding kink, boyfriendsdad!negan, oral (female receiving) use of belt, squirting, swearing, use of degrading names, general Negan ness, voyerism, unprotected sex, reader is a little evil to her boyfriend : NOT PROOFREAD YET

Summary: Reader finds out her boyfriend cheated on her via a Snapchat story, she takes sweet revenge with her boyfriend’s hot as fuck dad.

A/N: I’ve never wrote for breeding kink before so please be kind lol 🤍 I had a lot of fun with this one!

“Fucking waste of my damn time.” You cursed yourself, boys are so stupid. You couldn’t stop watching the Snapchat story of your boyfriend’s best friend, your boyfriend so obviously kissing a woman that wasn’t you. Not a care in the world, disrespecting you and the values you held in a loyal relationship. You didn’t know it this was a common occurrence that you just hadn’t noticed or a drunken one off. Not that it mattered, it was still a betrayal of your trust.

Eyes glossy with tears, you were driving towards your boyfriend’s house that he shared with his father, Negan. You didn’t even have a speech prepared, what you were going to say, if this was the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, your mind was running at a mile a minute.

Pulling into the driveway, you turned off the engine and put your car keys into your handbag, getting out and walking with purpose to the front door, your heels slamming on the concrete floor. You knocked on the door loudly, no answer. You knocked again, your hand shaking with annoyance.

The door finally opened but it wasn’t your boyfriend who stood before you, it was Negan.

“Hey doll, what you doing here so early? I was just making breakfast if you wanted any?” He offered before he took a proper look at your face, noticing the black tears of mascara that ran softly down your face.

“I don’t know what kind of fucked up morals you’ve taught your son, Negan, but I thought you were a better man. Obviously I was wrong.” You said with spite, you were letting your feelings be known to anyone who would listen. It was just unfortunate that it was the wrong person to direct your anger towards.

Technically, Negan hadn’t done anything wrong, but he was guilty by association in your current messed up state. You just needed to vent at someone, and Negan was the closest person to your boyfriend.

“Woah, doll? What’s wrong, what’s he done?” Negan moved aside so you could come in, walking towards the kitchen, the smell of fresh bacon and egg filling your nostrils. You placed your handbag on the kitchen counter, arms crossed, your hand playing with your necklace.

“He went out last night and he kissed a girl, I saw it on his friend’s Snapchat.” You managed to get out through a small sob, your eyes filling up with tears again. You couldn’t believe you were crying like this in front of his dad, you felt embarrassed.

“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry dollface, I didn’t raise the kid to do shit like that, we are loyal to our women.” Negan sighed, his hand running through his salt and pepper beard, trying to find the words to make the pain in your heart go away. His eyes watched you as you grabbed a tissue from the box placed on the dining table, using your front phone camera as a mirror to wipe your tears away.

“You know what though, it might be a blessing in disguise.” Your head whipped around to give him a look of disbelief, in what world could this be a blessing? “What the fuck do you mean, my boyfriend cheated on me? How could that even remotely be a blessing?!” Feeling your anger building up again, Negan walked around to your side of the counter, towering over you, his head coming down to whisper in your ear. “Oh please, Y/N. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me, remember that party a couple months ago, goddamn doll, you couldn’t take your eyes off my dick in them swim shorts.” He gave a small laugh, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear, his eyes watching your chest raise with each breath you took. “You need a real man to take care of you, I heard you with him. I’m experienced enough to know when a woman is faking it to spare a man’s feelings.” Your eyes met with his, how on earth could he tell. You couldn’t even deny it, while your boyfriend was good enough, he was too soft with you, complaining when you’d asked him to just choke you a little bit. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt you, he’d said, your eyes rolling in annoyance.

“How the fuck do you know that?” You asked, his cologne hitting you in the face as he got ever so closer to you. “Like I said doll, I know women. You want to be played with don’t you? You want someone who knows how to please you properly, give into it doll. I could give you all the pleasure you’d ever need.” You let out a soft moan, knowing this was wrong but your petty nature taking over, not only was this such an evil way to get back at him, you longed for Negan. He was right on the nose with how you looked at him, you’d always found him attractive, just trying to stop yourself from jumping his bones whenever the two of you were around each other.

“Fuck it, I’ve always wanted to know what your cock feels like, deep inside me.” You whispered out, your hands wrapping around Negan’s neck as he captured your lips in a kiss. His hands finding their way to your ass, squeezing the round globes hard.

He lifted you up, walking towards the stairs. “I’m going to have you begging for mercy when I’m finished with you doll.”

It was almost animalistic, months of repressed attraction coming to a conclusion. You’d never have even thought about your late night fantasies coming true, until this very moment that they had. Negan kicked the door to his bedroom open, not bothering to close it behind him. Placing you on the bed, his hands grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt to pull it over his head revealing his toned torso and arms, his tattoo that you loved so much coming into view.

Your hands started to feel up on his chest, wanting skin to skin contact with him so desperately. You tried to sit up a little to take your tank top off but Negan stopped you in your tracks, slamming your arms down above your own head. “Don’t you fucking dare doll, that’s my job.” A dark look coming across his face, he ripped the tank top off you hastily. His eyes glued to your bare chest, you hadn’t bothered to put a bra on today, in a sleepy haze just wanting to get over here to question your boyfriend. “Such beautiful breasts doll, he’s going to regret giving you up.” Negan stated as he took one of your erect nipples into his mouth, a soft bite as he did. You moaned out, watching his every move, his eyes locked to yours.

Leaning up, Negan unbuckled your belt sliding it out of your jean loops, grabbing your hands, wrapping the belt around your wrists as your hands were placed back above your head. The leather tight and digging into your skin, only turning you on more, heat rushing to your pussy. Negan took the time to unbutton your jeans, pulling them down your legs revealing your small black thong that left little to the imagination, pulling them to the side, Negan licked a strip starting from your opening to the top, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your boyfriend never took the time to ever focus on your pleasure, either because he couldn’t be bothered or he just didn’t care, you didn’t know.

You felt the extra wetness as Negan spat right on your pussy, bringing his fingers to slowly enter you. Starting at a slow, agonising pace he could feel your body relaxing as you let your body give in to the pleasure you were feeling. You wanted nothing more than to grip onto his hair, but your bound hands didn’t allow it. As he felt you relax, he quickened his pace up, moans leaving your lips loud and clear. “Such beautiful noises for me slut, and I know these are real.” You felt your core tightening as you kept building up wave after wave of pleasure, you’d never even realised you could get so close to orgasm so fast, Negan caught on to this and took his fingers out of you, dripping in your juices. He forced his fingers into your mouth, you sucking the wetness off like it was your last meal.

“You fucking dirty girl, you like the way you taste?” He asked, his fingers still in your mouth as he pulled his shorts down, revealing his boxers to you. “Yes, I love it so much. I need to fill me up Negan, ruin me please.” You managed to get out through heavy breathing and his fingers. He chuckled, manoeuvring your body so you were on all fours, facing the mirrored closet doors, next to the entrance of the bedroom. “I’m going to fuck you so dumb baby girl, you’ll forget your own name when I’m done with you. Going to get you drunk on my cock. You won’t even want another man to touch you.” You whimpered, seeing Negan pulling his large cock out of his boxer shorts, them falling to the ground. His tip was red, leaking with precum, standing erect. He looked like a Greek god, his posture so manly and authoritative. He lined up at your opening and wasted no time, starting at a hard and fast pace. “Oh my god, Negan yes! Fuck!” Your nails dug into your own hands, the leather of the belt still digging into you causing pain but you didn’t care, the feeling was too good to complain. Your toes curled with pleasure in your heels, Negan’s hands gripped on your hips like he was holding on for dear life. “Shit doll, you feel so fucking good, so tight for Daddy.” You eyes widened at the nickname, you’d always wanted to experiment with a daddy kink but he’d never allow it, said it made him feel weird. You couldn’t believe how much this man was filling your darkest fantasies, you felt like maybe your boyfriend cheating was a blessing in disguise after all. Negan’s hand came down to slap your ass, the motion leaving a good red mark on your cheek. You looked towards the large mirrors in front of you, seeing Negan’s body go through the motions, his hips bucking against your ass as he fucked you deep. “Yes daddy, I’m so tight for you, you feel so good inside me.”

Neither you or Negan heard the front door open, your boyfriend finally getting back from his night out, guilt filling him up as he remembered what had happened last night. He knew that what he did was wrong, that kissing that woman was wrong. Still tired and hungover, he at first thought his imagination was playing tricks on him when he heard moaning coming from upstairs, he didn’t think his dad was dating anyone, a look of confusion coming onto his face. He made his way up the stairs, looking through the open gaps of the banister, his features wrinkling in disgust and disbelief when he saw you, head thrown back in pleasure as you met Negan’s thrusts in a timed motion. He rushed up the whole flight of stairs until he got to the door.

“What the fuck is happening here?!” You heard the voice of your boyfriend, your eyes opening with a gasp, you thought Negan would stop, embarrassed that the two of you had been caught in such a way but he went even faster in and out of you, your hands trying to grab some of the blanket that was at the end of the bed, failing miserably due to the fact of your hands being bound together.

“Hey son, just treating your girl to a proper fuck, you were stupid as fuck to let this one go, she’s one dirty fucking girl! Maybe this will teach you not to go round sticking your dick in other women when you’ve got an absolute diamond at home. Now stand there and watch boy.” Negan laughed, your eyes meeting with your boyfriend, you couldn’t help with the moan that escaped your lips as Negan moved down to grab your chin, his head coming to the side of your ear. “Tell him doll, tell him how good daddy’s fucking you.” You smirked, looking out the corner of your eyes to look at Negan. “So fucking good daddy, filling me up, better than he ever could. Please keep fucking me like this daddy.” You whimpered, your lips meeting with Negan as he kept his eyes open, staring at his son.

Your boyfriend didn’t know what to do, he rushed out of the room, slamming the front door behind him as he was trying to gather his thoughts together.

“That was so fucking dirty doll, oh my goodness! I can feel you getting close girl, let yourself cum all over my cock. I want to finish inside you, fill your body with my baby.” You screamed out as your orgasm took over your body, black spots coming into your vision. Your pussy felt like it had a death grip on Negan’s cock, his thrusts coming to slower pace as he let you ride out your orgasm. “Pull out of me, I want to ride you daddy.” Negan didn’t need any more encouragement as he pulled out of you, lying down on his back as you dug your heels into the mattress, sat on top of him. “Be careful with those things, don’t want a hole in my mattress dollface. You look fucking good in them though, sexy as fuck.” He said, as he shoved his cock into your dripping hole. You bounced up and down, even with your orgasm taking energy out of you, you couldn’t stop, you needed Negan like a hardcore drug. His musk mixing with a light sheen of sweat over your bodies. Negan’s hands gripped your ass as he directed your body as you grind into his hips, your second orgasm building up in your core. His cock filling you up, “That’s it baby, bounce on daddy’s cock for me, I want to see my seed dripping out of you.” You quickened your pace, feeling Negan’s cock twitching in you. “That’s it daddy, fill me up with your seed, I want you to fill my pussy up daddy!” You screamed out, uncaring about neighbours being able to hear you, you were too cock-drunk to care. Negan growled, his seed spurting out in you, his hands gripped your hips like a vice, his breathing heavy. You came to your end as well, gushing all over his cock, wetting the bed below you and Negan’s stomach as you squirted for the first time ever in your life. You moaned louder than ever, falling to the side of Negan, his flaccid cock sitting on top of his torso. You both were spent, the only thing that could be heard in the room was heavy breathing. Negan got up slowly from the bed, he released you from the belt, your wrists red and sore. He grabbed a small towel from the on-suite bathroom, cleaning you up from your squirt wetness. He laid back next to you, his arm coming over you to pull you closer, a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Life is never going to be the same again after this doll. Shit, I know it’s wrong to ask but leave him, I’ll treat you better than that stupid boy.” You looked at him, a smile coming across your face. “Negan, you could ask me to do anything right now and I’d say yes, that was the best fuck of my life, Daddy.”

Negan laughed and slapped your ass as he caught you in another sensual kiss.

[kittenlittle24]

A/n:

Recently started watching House MD and instantly fell deep into the fandom. Please forgive any mistakes, might be ooc, I didn’t write anything in a very very long time! As well as this is my first time writing a Gregory House imagine! Not good at writing summaries!

Summery: Reader and House used to date, and like a little boy now that someone else has his toy he wants it back.

Masterlist

The door to her office slammed open, she didn’t bother raising her eyes, “Yes Gregory?”

Frowning, “You know I don’t appreciate being called like that.”

She smiled, lowered the file she was reading onto her desk, and placed her hands on it, “Ah. Just like you know I don’t appreciate people barging into my office like that.”

He pulled out the chair opposite of her and sat down, he put his legs on her desk and started to play with his cane.

“Nice bling.”

She sighed and lightly smacked his feet, not wanting to hurt him but signaling to take them off.

“Are congratulations in order?”

She stayed silent for another moment, he wasn’t done, she figured.

“Though I really don’t understand why you would do something so idioti-“ he didn’t disappoint.

“House. Say why you are wasting my time or get out.”

Putting his legs down, he sat up, “5-year-old girl, fever, loss of appetite, irritability, and shortness of breath.”

“Did you run an EKG?”

Hitting himself in the head with a fake gasp, “Why didn’t I think about that?”

She got up and walked around the desk to open the door for him.

“You don’t need my consult, you know what it is. I don’t know what the hell it is you want from me, but I want you to leave.” She told him before returning to her desk and resuming her paperwork.

She heard him get up and limp to the door, only looking up when she heard it close, but just to see he was still there, her door closed once again and he was leaning heavily on his cane and looked deep in thought, eyebrows scrunched together and knuckles almost white from his grip on his cane.

“So expect me to watch you walk down the aisle, wearing all white and what?”

She leaned back in her chair and quietly replied, “I’m not sure why you think you’re invited.”

His mouth opened slightly and his eyebrows raised to a shocked expression.

“My fiancé doesn’t want me to invite an ex to our wedding.”

“Who cares what he thinks?” He yelled.

Getting up and walking to stand in front of him, “I do! And frankly, I understand him. House, you want to be miserable, fine, have at it. But please, leave me out of it! I’m done with whatever this is!” She answered with her hands moving between them.

“I don’t think you can be more done with me than not even inviting me.”

“You broke up with me! Don’t you get it? How could I marry another man when you’re sitting right there? I’m marrying him and then I’m leaving the hospital.”

“Leaving me,” he added defeatedly.

She nodded and looked down. Not able to look at his blue eyes.

“Marry me instead.”

Her eyes shot up to him, shocked and so each speechless.

“You don’t want to leave the hospital, you love me, I love you, I’m an asshole and you could tell me that everyday for the rest of my miserable life. Please, be miserable with me.” He asked in a low voice, half jokingly.

Against her better judgment, as if forgetting the pain he put her through when he broke up with her because she got too close and he was too afraid of intimacy and letting anyone break his walls down, she took his scruffy cheeks in her soft palms, raised his head to lock their gazes and whispered, “I guess I am an idiot.” Before she placed her lips on his, kissing him passionately, feeling his salt and pepper beard scratch her chin in the best way possible.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Frankie isn't afraid of growing old [Frankie x gn!reader]

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Read on Ao3

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x you (I think it’s gn!reader, correct me if I’m wrong).

Warnings: Implied sex at the end, but this is just short and sweet and sfw.

Summary: You like Frankie's hair and beard and body? Idek.

Words: 788

You stop on the threshold to the bathroom, and lean on the door frame, admiring the view before you.

Frankie’s just out of the shower, towel hanging low on his narrow hips, his pudgy belly protruding over the edge of the cotton. Long, strong legs, thick thighs (now hidden by the towel), broad shoulders, arms muscular by physical labor, not lifting weights. A bit of a double chin forming, round cheeks when he smiles – which he does often. Facial hair growing out of order, silver scattered among the dark bristles. His hair echoes that salt and pepper, and newly washed, towel-dried… Good lord, those curls.

Your man is a hot piece of ass, there’s no other way of putting it.

He glances over at you, a little smile playing in the corner of his mouth as he reaches for the shaving cream.

”What?”

”You know what,” you smile back.

”I don’t.”

”Yes you do, stud. You’re so fucking sexy.”

His ears turn pink, and he hurries to lather his face with shaving cream.

”Thanks.” His voice is demure, but warm, and his long lashes are cast down as he picks up his razor, before looking up in the mirror.

”Why the shaving?” you ask, now entering the bathroom. He raises a brow at you, razor at the ready.

”Honey, I look like Hugh Jackman in X-Men.”

”You say that like it’s a bad thing…”

”It’s beginning to look unkempt.”

You grab a towel from the rack, and dab a little at his face. ”Just a little touch-up? I like your facial hair.”

”It’s getting itchy.”

”That’s because you’re not using the products I got you,” you roll your eyes and give Frankie a ”told you so” look. He smiles back, sheepishly, and puts down the razor. You take that as an invitation to wet the towel, and start to wipe the cream off his face. A lock of hair falls down his forehead, and you brush it to the side, letting your fingers run through the damp curls. Frankie releases a small sigh, as do you.

God, how you love that he’s just who he is. He’s not ashamed of his body, doesn’t sweat it that he’s going grey (you almost spit out your drink the first time you saw Benjamin with his newly colored hair – there’s a guy who refuses to grow old), and doesn’t care if you shave your body hair or not.

Frankie just isn’t afraid of growing old. He welcomes it with open arms, now that he’s out of the military, alive and spending the rest of his life with you.

”Just a little trim?” you now suggest, and Frankie agrees. You take the electric razor from its dock, check the setting, then go over your man’s mustache and patchy beard. When you’re done, you change the setting again, and touch up the edges. Finally, you take out the beard oil, and carefully massage it onto his face. All the time, Frankie’s eyes are fixed on yours, half closed like those of a cat enjoying itself in a patch of sunlight.

”There,” you finally nod, patting his cheek. ”Pretty as a pony.”

Frankie chuckles, now tearing his gaze from you, and checking himself in the mirror. He runs his palms over his cheeks, turns his face this way and that to check all the angles.

”Thanks,” he finally says, looking happy. He may not be that interested in trying to look young, but he does want to look good with what he has. ”It’s much better.”

”You’re very welcome,” you smile, equally happy with the result. Frankie draws his fingers through his hair.

”I think I’ll see if the barber has an opening tomorrow.”

”Noooo,” you protest, taking his hands away from his hair, and running your own fingers through the curls that you love so much. ”No touchy!”

”Honestly, baby, I’m beginning to think that you won’t love me anymore if I were to turn bald!”

”I wouldn’t,” you tell him cruelly. ”You wouldn’t be the same without the hair.”

”You’re breaking my heart,” he mock sobs dramatically. ”You’re only with me because I look good.”

”Well, duh.”

You lean in, smelling the beard oil and body wash on him. Tentatively, your lips brush over his.

”I’ll tell you a secret,” you whisper, your hands sneaking around his waist, pulling him in close, his big warm belly pressing up against you.

”Yeah?” He nips at your lips, hands coming to just above your ass.

”I don’t like the idea of someone else touching your hair.”

”Jealousy is a good look on you…”

”Everything looks good on me.”

”True.”

You untie the towel around his hips, and Frankie presses his grinning lips to yours.

[jobean12-blog]

Wrangled

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Cowboy/Neighbor AU)

Word Count: 2,214

Summary: There’s a new Cowboy in town and as much as your father-who is too old fashioned and a bit of an asshole- hates to admit it, he needs some help on the farm, so when Joel starts coming around you can’t help but fall for him. 

Author’s Note: The trailer for Pedro’s new film ‘Strange Way of Life’ has sparked some inspo Cowboy style! It’s my first time writing this AU so forgive me for any silly mistakes or cliche stuff. I’m really looking forward to this film! Thank you all so much for reading and much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my sweet Daisy, thank you! @firefly-graphics 🥰

Warnings: some soft fluffy moments, tension, flirting, Joel being entirely too s-e-x-y and i-mpli-ed s-e-x-y times 

Joel Miller Masterlist

The full glasses of lemonade wobble precariously on the tray as you walk toward the barn, the sweltering sun making droplets of sweat roll down your back.

“There you are,” your father says as you come around the building.

The sound of hooves stomping the dirt drowns out your response as Joel approaches on his horse. He stops just beside you, tugging gently on the reins before he swings one long leg over and slides off.

Joel immediately turns your way, his eyes discreetly sweeping down your body. He tips his hat in greeting before giving your father a short nod.

You hand Joel a glass first, his rough fingers brushing yours and causing a shiver to shoot down your spine despite the early morning heat.

“Looks like I got here just in time,” he drawls. “Thanks darlin’.”

“Sure is a hot one,” your father states as he takes his glass.

You nod in agreement but keep your eyes on Joel, watching intently as he drinks down the cool lemonade.

He takes a long sip, tipping his head back so you can see the muscles in his neck move with every swallow. A bead of sweat rolls along his temple, getting lost in the salt and pepper of his beard before it traces the curve of his jaw and slides down the column of his neck.

Your tongue darts out to trace your lips and his eyes follow the movement, a dark heat simmering behind his warm brown irises.

“I’ve got to go into town and look for some parts for these machines,” you father states, effectively breaking the tension between you and Joel. “I won’t be back ‘til lunch time.”

“Ok,” you say quietly.

“Now I want you to listen to Joel here,” your father continues. “He’s gonna continue workin’ and anything he needs you best be there to git it done.”

“Of course,” you agree with a hard swallow.

“I’m sure we’ll manage just fine,” Joel murmurs and you can feel his eyes on you.

After speaking with Joel about parts and machinery your father goes back to the house and drives away in his truck, leaving you standing alone with Joel.

“You’re lookin’ as pretty as a peach darlin’.”

You eyes fall to your feet but you whisper, “you’re welcome to look.”

Calloused fingertips press under your chin and he lifts your gaze.

“Is that so?” he asks, taking a step closer.

Your breath catches at the look in his eyes, desperate with barely contained desire.

His thumb moves to brush across your lips and your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks. You reach up with a trembling hand and wrap your fingers around his thick wrist as best you can, holding on to steady yourself.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” you breathe out.

“I’d love another glass of your delicious lemonade darlin’. Can’t seem to quench my thirst today.”

Your eyes open wide and you stare at him before releasing his wrist and practically running up the hill back to the farmhouse.

When you return with a fresh glass of lemonade, Joel is no longer standing outside the barn.

You call his name but there’s no answer so you walk into the cool shade of the barn and search for him.

Then you hear a horse snort and grunt and spot Joel at the far back stable, racking up Whiskey to the post. You approach slowly and Joel stands, giving Whiskey a pat before he takes the glass you’re holding out.

He winks and tips his hat before drinking the whole glass in one long sip. He smacks his lips and places the glass down on a bale of hay.

You gently pat Whiskey on his nose, the horse whinnying and slowly shaking his head. When you feel the weight of Joel’s gaze you cut your eyes to him.

“You’re staring,” you state.

“I like what I see,” he answers as he saunters closer.

You lower your lashes and turn your attention back to the horse but when you feel the heat of his body at your back it sends goosebumps exploding over your skin.

“What are you doin’ all day alone in that house?” he asks, his lips a whisper along the shell of your ear.  

He places a soft kiss just under your ear before sliding his nose down your neck with a deep inhale. Your skin tingles at the sensation and you crane your head to the side with a release of breath.

“Well?” he repeats, moving away so you can turn to face him.

“Nothin’ really,” you say with a shrug. “Except chores and lots of ‘em.”

He moves closer, his long fingers tugging at the red bandana around his neck as he pulls it free and wipes the back of his neck. Your eyes fall to the open buttons of his shirt, his tanned skin no longer obscured by the fabric.

“I’m sure I can keep ya’ busy with somethin’ other than chores this mornin’ darlin’.”

You tilt your head back and meet his eyes, your lips parted with your heavy breathing.

His heated gaze pins you in place as much as his body does when he closes the distance and presses you against the wall.

“So soft,” he murmurs as his hand grazes the curve of your waist.

You tentatively place your hands on his hard chest, spreading your fingers out and testing the feel of him.

They creep higher, dancing over his broad shoulders before wrapping around his neck.

You can feel how much he wants you and when his arms pull you closer, his hands gripping you tightly, he dips his head to press his lips to yours.

There’s no hesitation, no faltering, when he kisses you and there’s no doubt he’s in control. Your lips part for him and he deepens the kiss as his hands slide down to cup your ass, tugging you impossibly closer. You flex your hips against his and he makes a low, rough sound in his throat.

He pulls away abruptly and leans his forehead to yours, his warm breath caressing your skin as he tries to catch his breath.

When he carefully raises his hand to cup your cheek, you lean into his touch but then his fingers trail down the side of your neck, sliding lower until he’s toying with the buttons of your dress and you tremble with a sigh of his name.

“You’re trouble darlin’,” he croons, then his hand settles at the back your neck and he drags you in for another heated and desperate kiss.

His hands move over your body, stroking and teasing every inch of bare skin he can find. His mouth is warm and wet at your throat and then lower, tracing the outline of your collarbone before lingering at the swell of your breasts.

He lifts his head and brushes his lips to yours. “You taste even better than you look darlin’. And I would’ve sworn that was impossible.”

With his eyes on yours he slides his hand between your breasts, the motion torturously slow, until he meets the hem of your dress. He teases the fabric, dancing his fingers over your knee before drawing small circles along your inner thigh.

You press your body closer, your fingers sliding back down to his chest to grip his shirt and steady yourself.

His fingers move higher, his skin calloused and warm and scraping against your softness in perfect balance.

Your legs fall open and he smiles against your lips, keeping them just a whisper away as his fingers gently brush over your damp panties.

But at the feel of you so wet and ready he growls and nibbles your bottom lip and you don’t have a chance to suck in another breath before his mouth is on yours.  

His body is hard and uncompromising as the wall behind you and when he pulls at the fabric that rests on your hips you arch into him, tugging hard on his shirt.

He eases away from you and you nearly go with him. His hat is still on but it’s tipped precariously back and he stares as he slowly slides your panties down your legs.

The sound of an engine startles you both and before you can protest he tugs the fabric from your foot and grins before neatly folding it and sliding it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Your mouth parts in a gasp but you quickly straighten, pulling at your dress and smoothing your hands over yourself.

“Is lunch ready?” your father bellows from the barn door.

Joel steps away and you rush around him before your father sees you.

“Will be in just a few,” you answer as you pretend to be busy with the water pail.

“Ready for somethin’ to eat?” he asks Joel when he sees him.

“Sure am,” Joel replies. “Starved in fact.”

His eyes swing to you and they sparkle as the corner of his mouth lifts into a promising smirk.

You’re still plating the food when both men walk through the door and Joel removes his hat, hanging it on the rack to the side.  After washing up they sit and chat while you serve them lunch.

“Looks amazin’,” Joel raves as he takes a whiff of the steaming food.

“Girl knows how to cook a meal,” your father mutters through a mouthful.

“Aren’t you gonna join us?” Joel asks, giving you an expectant look.

“Oh I don’t usually…” you start to explain but your father interrupts.

“Now don’t be rude honey. Sit. Have somethin’ to eat,” he grumbles.

“Ok,” you say quietly and make yourself a plate.

As you approach the table Joel stands and pulls out the chair next to him, smiling and waiting for you to sit.

With wide eyes you give him a shaky smile in return with a quiet thanks.

The men continue to talk about the new parts and what else needs to be done on the farm and all the while you try to concentrate on the food in front of you but it’s almost impossible when you feel Joel’s warm hand settle on your thigh under the table.

His gently massages your leg, never missing a beat in the conversation and even doing his best to bring you into it.

“Do you like to ride?” Joel asks as he turns to face you.

You whip your head in his direction, giving him a confused look since you didn’t even know they had been talking about the horses, Joel’s touch too distracting.

“Ride?” you squeak.

“What’s going on wit you?” your father rumbles. “Didn’t you understand…?”

“It’s fine,” Joel says placatingly as he glares at your father then turns to you.

“Do you enjoy riding the horses?” he asks again softly.

“Yes. I love to. But I don’t often have much time to do it,” you say politely.

“She’s busy with her chores,” your father butts in and you clamp your mouth shut.

Joel gives your thigh a squeeze and you can see his teeth grind under the hard clench of his jaw.

Before anyone can say another word your father’s phone rings. He answers it with a gruff hello and stands from the table, walking out the front door and onto the porch.

“You know how hard it is to sit here and listen to him talk to you like that?” Joel seethes, bringing his lips close to your ear. “I have a right mind to knock him outta the chair.”

Even though his words are sweet his intent is predatory as his fingers move higher, your bare skin warm and silky.

“And don’t you worry darlin’, I’m gonna take you for the best ride of your life.”

“Joel,” you whimper.

“Mm, what’s the matter darlin’? You makin’ a mess of that chair?”  

The sound of the door makes you jump and your father pins you with a warning glare.

Joel’s hand stills but he doesn’t remove it.  

“I’ve gotta run back to town to pick something up. Should be back within the hour,” your father says to Joel.

“Make sure that pie is still warm for me when I get back,” he then says to you before stomping out the door.

Once you hear the gravel crunch under the tires of his pickup truck you fly from the chair, turning and leaning on the counter as you stare at Joel, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

He stands and walks toward you, his steps purposeful until he has you caged against the counter with his large body.

“Where are you runnin’ off to darlin’?”

“We can’t get caught,” you whisper. “He’ll kill you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Joel simpers. “I can handle it.”

You open your mouth to protest but he firmly presses a finger to your lips.

“What I can’t handle,” he starts as he drops his finger and slides it down your chest and over your stomach, “is standing here another minute and knowing you got nothin’ on under this dress.”

When his finger reaches the hem he hooks it under and slowly starts to lift the fabric.

“I have to feel you…taste you, before I lose my damn mind,” he murmurs.

@sstan-hoe @pedritosdarling @laineyreads @lorilane33 @justkinsey @beccablogsthings @blackwidownat2814​ @littleseasiren​

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Three

Fool's Fare: Chapter Three

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Triggers: Language, Excessive alcohol consumption, Talks of the supernatural. Think that's it.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Here is Chapter Three! I hope you all enjoy! I'm hoping to start working out the timeline for the DPU again so I can post an update for Outrun the Devil here soon, but I might update Meet Me at the Sea again before I do. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! You can also find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where I post my updates as well!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

The town of Port Royal was crowded with men of different ilk the likes of which you had never seen. The Hangman had docked in the early hours of the morning, and once you had finished helping Bob prepare and serve breakfast, you had dragged the young man down the gangway and onto the street, heart hammering away with excitement.

“We can’t be gone too long,” Bob said, grinning at your clear excitement. “We have to be back in time to prepare supper.”

“What’s the point of traveling if we can’t even see the sights?” you scowled, pushing your way through the heavy throng of people around you. A few men gave you dirty looks as you did, but you paid them no mind. Men were rarely able to back up their bark with enough bite, in your experience, but you pressed onward without so much as a second glance at them.

“Pete, we are seeing the sights,” Bob chuckled behind you.

You turned to fix him with a scowl. “We’re seeing, but we aren’t appreciating. How can we when we only have a few hours?”

“I think you’re overestimating how much there is for us to do around here,” he laughed. You paid him no mind as you neared the market of the old pirate hub. Men bargained with each other at several of the different stalls, and groups of women were scattered along the streets looking for paying customers to share their bed for the evening.

“Ahoy, handsome,” a pretty redhead grinned at you as she leaned over the railing of the brothel. “You look like you’ve hardly reached manhood, and I don’t suppose you have much experience under your belt. Can I interest you in some lessons?”

“I, uh,” you stammered, blinking up at her nervously. “No, thank you, miss.”

“Shame,” she smirked, eyes looking behind you. “And what about you, sailor?”

You turned to see Bob looking as red as a tomato as he glanced nervously at you. “No, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’ll be here if either of you change your mind,” she grinned, tossing her long curls back to show off her ample cleavage. “Just ask for Lucy when you come back.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” you blushed, hurrying to move forward with Bob hot on your tail. The two of you continued on a little farther until a glint of light caught your eye. You walked slowly up to the stall, several men grousing at you as you crossed right in front of their paths, but you paid them no mind. Your eyes were locked on a beautiful necklace that lay on top of a small wooden chest at one of the stalls. The golden chain held a six-pointed star, tiny diamonds encircling a burning opal. You had never seen something so beautiful before.

“I see you’ve found the soul of Polaris.”

You jumped, looking up to see an older man with a salt and pepper beard staring down at you. His accent was foreign, and if you had to guess, you’d say the man was from somewhere in Scotland.

“Is that what this is?” you asked him, looking back down at the jewel.

“Aye,” he continued, folding his arms. “They say a sea witch fell madly in love with a sailor long ago. When the two finally met face to face, the witch proclaimed her love for the man, but what she didn’t know is that the man was disgusted by her form. You see, the sea witch was also a mermaid, a siren of the sea. For while the witch was fair of face, the sailor knew what monster lay beneath the surface. So, he told her that he would only accept her love if she offered him something valuable.”

“And that was the gem?” you asked him, eyes wide. The old man chuckled with a shake of his head.

“No, lad. Wasn’t the gem,” he explained. “Was what the gem holds. There’s nothing more important to a sailor than the north star herself. Every man worth his salt knows that much. No, the gem holds an ancient magic. A magic to calm the sea and guide men to what it is they need most.”

“Which is what?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It’s different for every man.”

“Why are you selling it if it’s so valuable?” Bob chimed in, eyes narrowed at the man.

“Because it showed me that it’s time to pass it along, and I’m nothing if not a man who loves a proper sale,” he grinned. “Are ye interested?”

Before you could answer, Bob grabbed your elbow, pulling you away.

“No, we’re not,” he huffed out. You let out a cry of protest as he dragged you through the crowd. It wasn’t until the merchant faded from view that he finally slowed down, and you jerked your arm out of his hand.

“What was that about?” you griped, glaring up at him. He looked around the crowd wearily before shaking his head.

“Just didn’t like the look of him, is all.”

“Oh, that’s all?” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “What if I wanted to buy it?”

“Yeah?” Bob bit out a sharp laugh. “With what money?”

You were silent for a moment, and he nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

“You don’t have to be such an ass, you know,” you muttered, looking away dejectedly. You heard Bob sigh before he placed a hand gently on your shoulder.

“Look,” he began, “I’m sorry. I just don’t like anything having to do with magic or witches or anything of the sort.”

“Why’s that?” you asked him.

Bob didn’t answer you, instead looking somewhere off in the distance before grinning down at you.

“C’mon,” he said, once again pulling you through the crowd. “There’s something I want you to see.”

You allowed him to tug you along, the crowd thinning as the two of you moved closer to the edge of town. Finally, the cobblestone streets gave way to white sands and the stunning blue of the ocean. You felt your breath catch in your throat as you looked out onto the horizon. How you hadn’t noticed it when you departed the ship earlier, you didn’t know, but now your gaze was transfixed by it. This blue was so different from the blue you grew up seeing every day. Where your home’s waters were usually a dark, stormy blue, Port Royal’s water shined like topaz.

“I didn’t know the sea could look like this,” you breathed out.

“I knew you’d like it,” Bob smiled, turning his focus to the water before you. The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments before Bob turned to you once more. “C’mon, we best get back to the ship.”

“What’s all the commotion up there?” you asked Bob, hearing the stampede of footsteps above you on the main deck. Bob glanced up, a smile crawling onto his face.

“Sounds like they’re back aboard,” he grinned, rushing towards the door.

“Who is ‘they?’” you called after him, but he was already gone. You sighed, eyeing the ingredients for dinner before making your way after him. A crowd had gathered by the gangway, and you stopped at the edge where Bradley stood.

“What’s going on?” you asked him.

He shrugged. “Guess we’re here to pick up two other crew members from what I’ve gathered.”

You hummed, craning your neck to try and peer over the horde of men. You managed to catch a glimpse of two figures on the other side of the crowd; one man and one woman.

“Natasha!” You heard Bob cry. You saw the head of sandy hair bounce up to the woman who smiled at him. “How was it? How did it go?”

“Bob!” Natasha hollered as she pulled the young man in for a tight hug. “It’s good to see you. It was great!” She gestured to the man beside her. “You should have seen Mickey haggling with that old codfish! Thought we might get away without payin’ a cent there for a second. And then just when we had him, the codger backed out.”

She grimaced at the memory. “Couldn’t for the life of us figure out why he would back out at the last second. Just as we were headed back here though, he stopped us and offered another deal, one too good to pass up.”

“And so you took the deal.”

Everyone turned to see Jake, having just come from his quarters, at the edge of the crowd. He strutted towards the pair with a cocky smirk.

“You bet your ass we took that deal,” grinned the man, Mickey, as the captain approached. “We were leaving with it one way or another.”

“Lucky for the old man, he came to his senses,” smirked Natasha, arms crossing in front of her. Jake hummed as he stopped in front of them.

“And where is our little treasure?” he asked them. Mickey rifled through his pockets before pulling something out. The chain dropped to reveal a six-pointed star with tiny diamonds surrounding a burning opal. You gasped as Mickey handed the necklace over to Jake, who quickly pocketed it. He turned back to the rest of the crew.

“Alright, you lot. Show’s over. Get back to work! We set sail in an hour.”

The crew clambered to prepare the ship for launch, but you continued to stare at the small group on the other side of the ship.

“I’m going to freshen up in my quarters,” Natasha told the two with a smile, already making her way to where the cabins were housed. You gaped before looking over at Bradley.

“Bradley,” you hissed at him. Bradley swallowed thickly.

“She’s a woman.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s got a cabin on the ship.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s a member of the crew.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah.”

Before you could say more, Bob had come bounding up to you. “Are you ready to get back to cooking?”

You shot one last glare at Bradley, who looked everywhere but back at you. That idiot.

“Yeah,” you grumbled, turning to head back into the hull. “I’m ready.”

“Why is that woman a member of the crew?” you asked Bob as you scrubbed at the pot in your hands. “I thought woman weren’t allowed on ships?”

“On most ships, yes,” he told you as he finished dishing out portions for the crew. “But Jake doesn’t really care who is crew is made up of as long as they carry their own weight and don’t cause any problems.”

You hummed. “So anyone can just join, huh?”

“I suppose,” he mused. “Jake doesn’t let anyone join the crew unless he thinks their worthy and have something to offer. A lot of men were skeptical when Nat first joined, but she quickly made a name for herself as the Phoenix.”

“The Phoenix?” you questioned, pausing your scrubbing to look at him. He nodded with wide, excited eyes.

“Yeah! Whenever we come upon a ship to plunder, she does this thing where she’ll light the ends of her coat on fire. It smolders, giving her this terrifying look like she just rose out of the flames. That’s why, ya know…”

“The Phoenix,” you finished for him, turning back to your work. “Do you all have nicknames like that?”

“Some of us, sure,” he replied. “But our names work just fine. Now help me pass these out to the crew.”

You moved to help him and the two of you began taking the dishes out to where the crew had gathered around the massive tables.

“Cabin boy!”

You turned to see Natasha waving at you with a mug of ale.

“Come join us,” she grinned. You glanced at Bob who nodded.

“Go, I can get the rest,” he smiled. You nodded back at him and made your way over to where Natasha sat with Reuben and Mickey.

“Take a seat, cabin boy,” Natasha grinned, taking a sip of her ale. You did as she commanded, eyes darting between the three sailors as they stared at you.

“Is it true?” she asked you with a raised eyebrow.

“Is what true?”

“That your dad is Maverick Mitchell!” Mickey grinned, leaning in closer to you. A large figure slid in beside Reuben.

“What are we talking about?” Bradley asked, glancing between you and the other three.

“We were just starting to ask the cabin boy here about his father, Rooster” Reuben told him, taking a bite of his food. Bradley’s mouth set in a firm line as the three turned their attention back to you.

“What was he like?” Mickey asked you, practically bouncing in his seat. You shrugged noncommittally as you took a bite off your own plate.

“I don’t really know what you're expecting me to say.”

“Well, was he just as daring as the stories say? Did he take you out on his trips? Did you help him plunder? Did he ever find the treasure he was looking for?”

“Alright,” Natasha groaned, setting a calming hand down on his shoulder to stop him. Bob chose that moment to join the lot of you, sliding in next to her on the opposite side of the table. “Settle down, fanboy.”

“I can’t help it!” He hollered. “It’s not every day you meet the kid of one of the greatest pirates known to man.”

You stilled, seeing Bradley tense up on the other side of Reuben.

“What?” You whispered, eyes wide as you stared at Mickey who stared at you uncertainly.

“Pete Mitchell was your father,” Mickey said slowly, glancing around the table. “Right?”

“Yes, he was,” you said firmly.

“Pete Mitchell, better known as Maverick,” Reuben rattled off, “was a world renowned pirate of the highest order. His very name struck fear into the hearts of many a ship’s captain and crew. He was respected both far and wide by civilians and sailors alike.”

“Until one day he just disappeared,” Natasha added, studying you curiously. “Said his life’s mission was to find the greatest treasure the world could offer, and he plundered and stole for decades before dropping off the face of the earth.”

You felt like you were going to be sick. You didn’t know this man they were talking about. You knew the man who told you stories before bed, who showed you the proper ways to tie different knots, who always treated you kindly and had a smile at the ready for you, who never once raised his voice in anger at you or your mother. The man they were talking about was a stranger.

Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest cup to you, Natasha’s, and downed it. The ale did little to ease your comfort, and you grabbed Reuben’s next and did the same.

“Woah there, cabin boy,” Reuben called out as you reached for Mickey’s. “Slow down there.”

You didn’t want to slow down. You wanted to forget. You downed Mickey’s cup and searched for more. The men to your right had watched the scene unfold, and one of them let out a low chuckle before pushing his cup towards you.

“There ya go, cabin boy!” He laughed. “Drink up!”

You happily obliged him, downing the nearly full mug in only a couple of gulps. You stood, head already beginning to feel both light and heavy all at the same time. You had never had more than one cup of ale before, but you weren’t worried about that fact in that moment. You stumbled on your feet as you made to move towards the barrel that had been opened for that night’s dinner.

“No,” Bradley said from behind you, having gotten up when you did. “You’ve had enough.”

You whirled around to face him, nearly falling on your face in the process. “I’ll decide when I’ve had enough,” you hissed up at him, trying and failing to push past him as he gripped your arms.

“That’s enough,” he growled down at you, but you continued to push at him until he gave you a gentle shake. “I know you’re upset, but this is not how you should be handling it.”

You stared up at him, studying him. Why was he being so calm about this revelation that had just been dropped into your lap?

“You knew,” you breathed, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me.”

Bradley stiffened, hands tightening ever so slightly on your shoulders. He looked defeated as he let out a sigh. “He didn’t want you to know.”

“Bastard!” you screamed at him, your struggle renewing with a vengeance.

“What’s going on here?”

All of you stopped and turned. Javy stood at the end of the stairs, eyes scanning the room and the scene before him. He frowned when he saw the state you were in.

“Cabin boy,” he said slowly, eyes always studying you. “Go get some air.”

You took a breath before pushing at Bradley who stumbled back half a step. You staggered toward the stairs, hearing Javy address the crew. You didn’t hear what he said, too focused on making it up to the main deck.

The air had grown cool as the sun began to set, and you staggered towards the edge of the boat. You grasped onto one of the ropes, feeling your resolve start to break. The tears started to fall and you let out a shaky sob into the wind.

“Rough night, cabin boy?”

You turned, vision hazy from the ale, to see Jake standing a few feet away from you.

“What do you care?” You muttered, frowning at him. He let out a low chuckle before walking over to lean against the side of the ship next to you. The two of you stared at one another for a few moments, but said nothing.

“He was a pirate,” you whispered, almost inaudibly, the tears still flowing down your cheek. Jake nodded.

“Aye,” he said. “He was.”

“But he was a good man,” you frowned, more of a question than a statement. Jake cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Can’t a man be both?”

You shrugged, head starting to feel even heavier. “I suppose so.”

Jake let out another chuckle, leaning into you a little more. “You suppose so?” he teased.

“Yeah,” you nodded sleepily. “S’pose so.”

Jake reached up to cup your cheek as he watched you. “How much did you have to drink down there tonight, Guppy?”

“D’unno,” you muttered, subconsciously nuzzling into the palm of his hand. “More than I’ve ever ha’ before.”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment before your eyes shot open, staring at him. What did he just call you?

Jake watched you with a knowing smirk as you struggled to form a coherent thought through the alcohol induced haze.

“You catchin’ up there alright, Guppy?” he asked you, a grin breaking out over his face.

“How long have you-?”

“Since you walked up to the ship behind Rooster, sweet girl. You think I’d just forget a pretty face like yours?” he laughed as you scowled up at him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you snapped.

He shrugged. “Figured things would be much more interesting this way. Besides, you looked so cute thinkin’ you had fooled me into thinkin’ you were a boy. Wanted to see how long you’d play into it.”

“So why bother saying anything?” You grumbled. His grin dropped as he stared at you with a stern expression.

“Cause you went and did a stupid thing like gettin’ too drunk. Now I gotta worry ‘bout you ‘round some of these men.”

“You don’t trust your own men?” You asked him, eyebrow raised. He chuckled lowly, placing a large, warm hand to the small of your back.

“While I believe they aren’t stupid enough to try anything with me or your brother on board the ship, I’d sleep much better tonight havin’ not taken the chance.”

“Wait,” you said, his words catching up with you. “They know?”

Jake laughed at that. “Darlin’, everyone knew the moment you set foot on the ship. That brother of yours needs to work on his disguises.”

You scowled up at him as he helped you towards the cabins. He beamed down at you, eyes twinkling, and you could have sworn you saw a blue mist twirl in his pupils as he stared down at you.

“C’mon. You can bunk with Natasha from here on out.”

[oneforthemunny]

girl i missed you!!!!🥺🥺🥺 so happy your back! i was thinking for your spooky stories, can you do older! eddie x reader take lilah trick or treating. thank you ❤️

a roo and a boo |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: delilah's first halloween (not exactly the trick-or-treat sorry. i started it and ended here with this but still fluffy and sweet and cute!!).

part of my munny's spooky stories series!

contains: literal fluff and cuteness. dad!eddie, mom!reader, age gap relationship. you can read the full older!eddie works here for all the lore and such :)

“Look at her.” You coo, peering over the padded changing table, wrangling Delilah’s tiny arms and long limbs gently into the costume. A random find you had shipped last minute, random and adorable and everything you’d ever wanted for your babies first Halloween. 

“She’s so fuckin’ cute.” Eddie grinned, dimples creasing in the scruff of his beard, at its beginning stages of salt and peppering like the curls that framed his hairline. “How did you find one this small?” 

“I got it off Etsy, so I could put the size in. Pretty handy because everything was too small for her.” You hum, shushing the small whimper that tore from Lilah’s chest. 

Only three months old, still tiny and fresh and new, but bigger than before. Bigger than when you first brought her home, scared out of your own mind that you’d drop her, break her, hurt her. Eddie was always so calm, so good about your fears and helping you- he’d done this before. He knew what it was like to be scared shitless with a baby. 

“How’d you come up with this?” Eddie’s eyes sparkled when they met yours. “Thought you were doing the bat and I was gonna be Ozzy?” 

“She’s too little for the bat costume. The biggest they made wouldn’t fit her, so I figured next year.” You shrugged. “I thought this was cuter.” 

“A kangaroo, hm?” Eddie’s finger brushed over Lilah’s cheek, grinning at the way she turned into his touch. 

“She’s Roo, Eddie, from Winnie the Pooh.” You glare at him playfully, grabbing the blue sweater next to you with the cross stitched letters ‘ROO’ on the front. “And I have some ears and a brown sweater and I’m Kanga. Get it? Because I’m her Mama.” You babble down at the baby, voice lifting in that airy coo of a tone that had Lilah’s lips curling in a gummy smile. 

“Oh,” Eddie nods, helping you maneuver Lilah’s balled fist through the sweater. “Just a you and Lilah costume?” 

“You get to be Ozzy and a bat next year.” You countered lightly, though your stomach flipped in fear. Fuck, maybe the suprise thing was stupid. Maybe you should have included him. “I mean, I can run to Target and try to find a shirt with Winnie on it or-” 

“-I’m just kidding.” Eddie shook his head, a gentle, calming hand rubbing down your spine. “I think it’s adorable. Both of you.” You beam, looking down at your little Roo, the hoodie with tiny ears that poked up. “Besides, I’m more of a Tigger man myself.” 

You snort lightly, rolling your eyes. “You? Thought you’d be more like Rabbit.” 

“Rabbit? No, that’s you, bunny, c’mon.” Eddie grinned, pinching your thigh playfully so you squealed. 

“You better watch it, Munson.” You pointed at him, fixing Lilah’s little sweater in place. “We have to be at my parent’s house in, like, thirty minutes. And they’ll actually care if we’re late now.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie hummed, lifting Lilah carefully into his arms. Her brown eyes blinking back at him, the small furrow of her brows from being disturbed- she looked like Wayne. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, swiping a stack of diapers from under the changing table. “My mom’s already losing it because she can’t wait to see Lilah’s costume. I’m never doing this surprise shit again.” 

“It’s their first grandkid, baby. What did you expect?” Eddie followed you down the hallway towards your shared bedroom. “They’re excited. Brie and Madeline too. It’s her first Halloween.” 

“What time is Brie getting here?” You pulled the brown sweater over your head, folding the slouchy neckline into place. 

“She’s here, I think.” Eddie muttered, eyes squinting, scanning the room undoubtedly for his phone. You bit back a smile. “I told her just to go over to Madeline’s. She’s staying at her apartment anyway tonight since she’s going to Gina’s tomorrow.”

“Oh?” You quip, brows raised in surprise. “They’re talking again?” 

“Yeah,” The sigh Eddie let out was soft, but heavy enough you knew he was… bothered, to say the least. 

Brielle’s silence towards Gina came after her mother’s nasty, cruel words about your pregnancy months ago. Eddie always felt guilty that Brielle was in the middle of the mess that was his relationship with his ex, even if she was the one dragging Brielle into it, weaponizing her even now against Eddie so he’d feel insecure. 

“I don’t… I don’t want to think about that tonight.” Eddie admitted, a soft tone that sounded defeated, hurt, really. 

You nodded, looking at him through the mirror, slipping on your own DIY made Kanga ears on a velvet headband. “I’ll text my mom. Let her know we’re on our way before she shows up and breaks down our door.” You laugh lightly, hand petting over Lilah’s soft cheek, your own lips brushing over Eddie’s for a sweet kiss. 

The drive to your parent’s house was brief, it took longer for you to load up the car. Carriers, diaper bags, extra clothes, strapping in the car seat, everything- it was a chore to pack up a baby to bring, but it was worth it. The look on your mom’s face when you pulled Lilah out of the car, her coos and squeals of excitement. 

“She is adorable. Just precious, oh!” Your mom gushed, ushering her grandchild through the doors, leaving you and Eddie for the rest of the things. “Honey! Look, look at Lilah!” You heard her call, scampering into the house. 

“I think she’s excited.” You roll your eyes playfully, slinging the diaper bag over your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Eddie smirked. “Can you blame her? She is pretty cute.” 

“She is.” You nod, head leaning against his shoulder while you walked towards the house. Your felt ears hit his chin, tickling the skin there, but he didn’t move. “Is Wayne still coming?” 

“When he gets off.” Eddie nodded, his hand squeezing your waist softly. “He had to work. Likes to work at the plant on Halloween. They always bring the kids to trick-or-treat.” 

“Really? We should bring Lilah next year.” You look up at him. 

“Yeah, he’d love that. Hope he retires this year though.” Eddie rolled his eyes. He’d been trying to convince Wayne he needed to retire for years, but the older man was stubborn. “I used to take Brielle there every year, and she loved it. He did too. He would always save her the best pieces of candy.” 

The warmth in your chest spread to your cheeks, tugging at your lips, curling into a smile. You liked hearing memories like this with Eddie, not ones tainted with Gina’s venomous actions and words. Your fist balled at the thought- no, you wouldn’t say anything. Not when Brielle drove all the way from Indianapolis to be here. Not when everyone was happy. 

The cackle of the girl in question floated through your ears as the two of you climbed the pumpkin lined steps. Your parents and Madeline had insisted on carving them with Lilah, for her first Halloween, they’d said. She hadn’t done much besides being passed from person to person in her little pumpkin onesie while they carved them, but it made your family happy- it made you happy. 

“... This is so cute! Ugh, Maddy, we definitely still had our costumes from junior year. I know mine’s in my closet at my mom’s. We could have been Piglet and Winnie with her.” Brielle nodded, cradling her tiny, baby sister in her arms.

“Yeah,” Madeline looked at you, brows furrowed in annoyance. “Why didn’t you tell us? We would have matched.” 

“I didn’t know.” You huffed, rolling your eyes at your little sister, Eddie shutting the door behind you. “I wanted it to be a surprise.” 

“Well, we could have matched.” Madeline’s lips pursed, only for a moment before she was back to Delilah, cooing at her. “Hold on, Brie, let me get a picture. No, let’s go out by the pumpkins, it'll be so cute!” 

“Hi, Dad.” Brielle muttered, leaning into his hug, still cradling Lilah. 

“Oh! Take my camera, Madeline!” Your mom called frantically, spinning in a half circle looking for her camera. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Your drive ok?” Eddie pressed a kiss to her head, finger tickling down Lilah’s little cheek. 

“Yeah, it was good.” Brielle hummed, following Madeline out the front door. 

“Hi, Mom.” You said, stepping towards her. 

“Hi- oh! That’s so precious, you two match! Where did you find this, honey? It is so cute! It is- hi, Eddie, how are you?- It reminds me of when you dressed up as Tigger one year. Your Dad is looking for the photo album right now, so I can do a side by side.” Your mom rambled, jittery with the excitement of Delilah, the holiday, the side by side post she was already plotting to post on Facebook so all her friends would go ballistic. 

“I gotta see that.” Eddie grinned, hand wrapping around your waist sweetly. 

“Dad is looking through it now- it’s in the second one!” Your mom yelled into the living room, over the re-run of Hocus Pocus playing for the millionth time. “I’m going to go take some pictures with the girls, but there’s chili and hotdogs in the kitchen and- oh, Eddie, I got you Fritos for yours.” 

Eddie blushed, cheeks tingling pink in the warmth of your home. Your mom had remembered from last Halloween, remembered something about him and gotten it for him. It was small, he knew it was, but it made him feel… content? Made him feel like a part of the family. 

Your mom didn’t hear his response, scurrying out to the front porch with her phone to take her own photos. Your eye roll made Eddie grin, pulling you into his side, pressing a kiss against your hairline where your velvet headband met your hair. 

“She’s insane.” You muttered. 

“She’s excited.” Eddie hummed, rubbing a hand down your hip soothingly. 

“She’s lost her mind.” You scoff. “I don’t think she even cares about me anymore. She’s just, like, give me my baby.” 

“Hey, it could be worse. Could want nothing to do with her.” Eddie sighed. He didn’t finish the sentence, didn’t tell you that Gina’s parents had been that way. 

Your heart ached for him, leaning into his chest. “I think they’re going to be busy for a while.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “You hungry?” 

“Starving.” Eddie grinned. “Especially for your Mom’s chili. I’ve been thinking about this all week.” 

“God, don’t tell her that.” You snort, arms still around his torso when you walked into the kitchen. “Her head will explode. She’s already got an ego because she’s a Grammy.” 

“Think you’ve got one too,” Eddie teased, eyes twinkling in the yellow light of the kitchen. You frowned, his hand rubbing over the ears of your headband. “You and Lilah in your matching outfits. ‘S cute.” He beamed, love struck and gooey, the way he would schmooze over you years before. 

You fought back the blush on your cheeks, lips twisting to hide your smile. “Yours is gonna be huge next year, Ozzy.” 

“It’s already huge, sweetheart. You know that.” Eddie purred playfully, squeezing the fat of your ass to make you jump and squeal, eyes cutting around to make sure none of your family was around. “I think it’s cute. Surprised she didn’t steal you for photos.” 

“Don’t give her any ideas.” You huff, pulling a bowl out of the cabinet. “How much do you want?” You ask, reaching for the ladle. 

Eddie shook his head, batting his hands away. “I got it. Got yours too, go sit down.” He nodded towards the table. 

You hesitated, Eddie’s hip bumping yours to move out of the way. “I want mine on-” 

“-chili on the hotdog, cheese on top, and no mustard.” Eddie hummed, spreading the bun to put the chili on. His eyes flicked to yours, smug smile on his face. “Right?” 

You nodded, sinking into the chair by the kitchen table, where you always sat growing up. Eddie smirked. “Told you, I got it. I got you tonight, alright? Take it easy. You don’t have to be Mama Be- Kangaroo tonight.” 

Your eyes roll, huffing lightly when you settle into your seat. Eddie maneuvered the two plates and a bowl with far better ease than you expected. It was nice, sitting in your childhood home with your husband, with your family. 

Your mom came bustling in with the photo of you in hand, a tiny toddler in an old school Tigger costume, face painted to match. Your dad holding Lilah in his recliner, feeding her the bottle you packed, content watching whatever sports he’d managed to flip on before your mom would make him change it back to Halloween movies. Wayne came by after his shift, a handful of candy for Brielle and Madeline, giving them a wink and a, “Told you I’d save you the good stuff. Always save you the good stuff.”  

Eddie beamed, watching it all from his own corner of the kitchen. Your mom and Wayne looking over photo albums, Brielle and Madeline giggling in the corner like they used to when they were younger- when the two of you had just met. You flitting between all of them, content and relaxed, Lilah in your arms. 

Eddie knew that Lilah would be loved. That she’d grow up in a better house than he had, that even Brielle had. In the type of family home he’d always dreamed of having, and now he had it, with you- because of you. 

[ladamedusoif]

20/20 - no outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

(gif by @nicolethered)

Summary: After months of pestering from Sarah, Joel finally concedes that he might need to get his eyesight checked and makes an appointment at your optometrist practice. He really doesn’t want glasses, though.

Pairing: No Outbreak!Joel Miller x Optometrist F!Reader

Content/Warnings: MDNI; 18+; not explicit as such but implied; no outbreak AU; Joel and reader are broadly around the same age; fluff; Joel in glasses is his own warning; me making stuff up about eye exams

Word Count: 1600 (this was supposed to be a drabble)

Notes: So @lunapascal and @julesonrecord decided I needed to atone for being incredibly thirsty for the sight of a certain someone putting on a pair of glasses. And voilà, a “glasses are hot” one-shot and my first attempt at Mr Miller.

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. But they’re also fascinating little machines in their own right, and you should know: you’ve been running your own vision care clinic in Austin for almost twenty years, after qualifying as an optometrist and gaining experience for a couple of years at various chains.

Some people love finding out they’re going to get to wear glasses. Others? Not so much.

Your last customer of the day definitely falls into the latter category. 

“Mr Miller?”

He looks around him in the empty waiting area, sighs, and stands up to join you in the testing suite. He looks like he’s being sent to the rack, not going for a routine eye examination. You introduce yourself and gesture towards the seat in front of your desk.

“So, Mr Miller -”

“Joel.”

“Joel. What brings you to the clinic today? You’re a new customer, have you just moved to the area?”

Joel looks uncomfortable, shifting in the seat. You guess he’s in his early fifties or so, salt-and-pepper hair and a patchy beard. He’s broad, still evidently a strong and well-built man. His denim shirt, embroidered with a logo that reads Miller Family Contractors, fits snugly but perfectly over his frame. 

“No, not new to Austin. Been here my whole life. Just…new to the eye doctor.”

“I see.” You pull up his file on the computer system and note his age. “If you don’t mind me saying, Joel, you’ve done pretty well getting to this stage in life without needing some kind of sight correction. What’s changed?”

He exhales, and for the first time since he sat down he actually makes eye contact with you.

Holy shit. You look at irises and pupils and corneas all damn day. You admire and respect the human eye, but you didn’t think it had the same power of attraction over you. Turns out, it had just been a while since you’d seen eyes as beautiful as his.

Even in the shitty artificial light of the testing suite, you can see that Joel Miller’s eyes are a perfect dark brown: at times like black coffee, at times like fine whiskey, depending on the light. They’re warm and enticing, even without him trying. You notice, too, the laughter lines and wrinkles around those extraordinary eyes - here, despite his stern exterior and manner, is a man who smiles and laughs. Who knows happiness.

“My daughter… she made me. Said she was gettin’ sick of me holdin’ up my phone so I could see the screen, and of missin’ half the stuff in my shows because I was squintin’.”

“Ah, she sounds like a wise person. Well, Joel, let’s get going.”

You conduct the retinal exam and the glaucoma test, Joel flinching as the puffs of air hit each eye. When he almost drags himself off the stool to move over for the pupil reactions and visual acuity testing, you decide to just ask.

“Joel, is everything okay? Are you comfortable with the procedures I’m doing?”

He arranges himself in the chair, his broadness making the equipment look comically small. He flashes you another look with those big brown eyes.

“I…I don’t want glasses.”

It’s not the first time you’ve heard this. “It’s okay, Joel. If you need vision correction we can look at contacts, or even laser surgery if you think that might be an option.”

He grimaces.

“I don’t want pokin’ in my eyes, either. Or lasers pointed at them. Absolutely not.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Well, let’s hope you don’t need glasses, then, Joel Miller.”

You have to get up close to him for parts of the eye test, as normal. To your horror, you realise that every time you do so, you get a surge of desire. He smells of shaved wood, of pine soap, of peppermint, and of leather. You notice the smattering of freckles across the tan skin exposed by the snaps left open on his shirt. You can’t take your own eyes off his hands: big, broad, long, and strong. 

Your mind immediately wanders to thinking about what those hands could do to you. Where they could go that you can’t reach with your own fingers, how they’d feel against your skin, reaching for you, groping at your tits as you - 

You clear your throat and turn back to the lens unit, away from Joel, lest he see how flustered you are becoming. He’s got a daughter, you remind yourself. He’s got a wife, or a partner.

“Everythin’ okay?”

“Sure, yes, fine, Joel. Sorry, just trying a new lens combination.”

***

Of course he needs glasses. It’s not a very strong prescription, but he seems crestfallen as you talk him through it.

“Joel, I don’t want to be condescending but glasses are a minor hardship when you think of being able to see clearly again.”

For the first time, he cracks a smile. “I know, I know. I just - I dunno. I feel like I’m an old man now, with my glasses and my stiff knees and my tight back. That’s why I didn’t want them, I - vanity, I guess. Didn’t want to admit I was old.”

You smile in return, noting how kind and warm his expression was. “You’re not old, Joel. You look great.”

That was unprofessional.

He blushes. “Until I put the specs on, that is.”

You point to yourself. “I’m wearing contacts today so it’s easier for me to do my job, but in my downtime - I’m glasses all the way.”

He scoffs. “Different for you, though, you’d look pretty no matter what.” 

“Pretty?” 

Joel looks up at you from under his lashes. “I mean…yeah, you are. Probably even prettier in your glasses, too.”

It’s your turn for the heat to rise to your cheeks, but you can’t help smiling. “Let’s just double-check the last of the personal contact details before we go look at some frames. Says here your emergency contact is Sarah Miller but there’s no description of your relationship - is she your wi-“

“Daughter. Sarah’s my adult daughter. No wife, no girlfriend.”

You try not to smile too obviously. “My emergency contact is my younger sister. Same reason.”

As you print out Joel’s new prescription, there’s a knock on the door - Meghan, your assistant who usually looks after customers when they choose their frames.

“It’s closing time… you want me to stay late?”

You shake your head. “Of course not, Meghan. I think I’ll be able to help Mr Miller choose his new frames. If that’s okay with you, Joel?”

He smiles and turns to Meghan. “I think I’m in good hands.”

***

Joel studies the selection of frames on display in the main public area of the clinic, looking completely overwhelmed. He turns to you, shrugging helplessly.

“I don’t even know where to start. What would you suggest? You’re the expert.”

You move closer to study his features, taking in the size and shape of his face, the firm set of his jaw, the strong line of his nose, the softness of his lips. 

Fuck, this is a beautiful man.

You catch your breath momentarily. “Many men who don’t want glasses choose the invisible frames, like these.” You hold up a pair of the lightweight style, placing them gingerly on Joel’s handsome face.

He studies himself in the mirror. “Not bad. Can’t even tell.”

“If I might suggest something, though?”

He nods. “You’re the expert, like I said.”

“I think your features could carry something a little stronger. More definite, more distinguished. Can I show you?”

You pick a couple of acetate frames from the rack, one in a dark caramel brown, the other in a sort of charcoal grey. You hold them out to Joel. 

He wavers, and settles on the caramel pair. You watch as he examines the frames, before gently putting them on.

That’s when you give yourself away. The sight of that man putting on those glasses is so devastatingly sexy that you let out a tiny moan. Joel turns, the frames beautifully complementing his colouring and the darkness of his eyes, and it’s all you can do not to moan again.

“You okay?”

“I’m…I’m fine. You just look…very…”

He moves closer, a little smile on his face. “You sayin’ the glasses are doin’ it for you?”

You nod. “That pair, yes. Yes, I think they might be. I’m sorry, this is horribly unprofessional of me.”

He grins. “Can you explain what it is you like about them?”

You swallow hard, turning him to see himself alongside you in a mirror. “They’re stylish. They are strong. They’re distinguished. They’re very…masculine.” You let the next words slip before you can stop yourself. “In other words, they’re very you.”

Joel turns his back to the mirror, focusing on you. “Only because you found them for me. I’d never have tried somethin’ like this.”

“You glad you did?”

“I am. And I’m glad I came in to get my old eyes checked out by the prettiest optometrist in all Texas.” 

You laugh, and he catches your hand to pull you in. Your fingers rest lightly on the broad expanse of his chest, feeling the taut denim underneath. You look at him expectantly.

“I know this is probably mighty unprofessional, but…”

You nod. “But I’ve already gone over the line, so…”

Joel leans in, frames still on, and kisses you: hot, hungry, deeply. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, returning his kiss with the same intensity. When you break away, you take his hand and lead him back towards the testing suite.

“More tests, darlin’?”

You arch an eyebrow as you pull him inside and close the door. “I suspect you’ll pass these with flying colours, Joel Miller. You don’t need 20/20 vision for what I’ve got in mind.”

[deandoesthingstome]

Hall Pass - Chapter 1

Paring: Henry Cavill x Reader (RPF)

Series Summary: You run into Henry Cavill at the start of a two-week house-sitting vacation. You had some previous plans. Some were ruined by your now ex-boyfriend. Some were made better. Guess by whom?

Series Warnings: I’ll be honest, this whole thing is just self-indulgent smutty fluff. Here’s what I offer: meeting, making out, and having sex with Henry Cavill (rpf). I’m probably NOT going to be adding chapter warnings unless I get a bug to re-write and something worms it’s way into the story that I wasn’t expecting.

A/N: I started this story shortly after the fiasco of The Witcher and Superman announcements. I thought about how great it would be to try and cheer him up a little. For the purposes of this story, he is single. No hate to anyone in his life right now, in whatever way you imagine that to be. I also understand if you do not read rpf. Feel free to scroll on by. I don’t need to hear about it.

This was going to be a looooong one-shot, but solicited feedback prompted me to break it up for you. 

Playlist: I will add to Spotify for each chapter.

Word Count: 3.1K 

"You've got to be fu..."

You barely had time to register the deep intonation of the same words you yourself were spouting when you glanced up from your phone screen just before walking smack dab into a 6'1" brick wall.

"...cking kidding me."

Your phone hit the ground with a clatter, though you knew it could sustain the impact. The best thing your as-of-this-minute ex had ever done was insist on the military grade phone case for your clumsy ass.

"I'm so sorry. Are you quite alright?"

"Oh, I absolutely should be the one apologizing," you responded, not even glancing up to check out the person from whom the sensual accent slipped as you knelt to retrieve your device. Had you done so, you would have noticed the shape blocking your way moving in the same general direction and probably wouldn't have bumped your head into his. Possibly.

"Oof! Oh dear..."

"My god, I am so clumsy! Please forgi..." you lost the rest of that apology as you raised your head and found yourself staring directly into the clearest blue eyes you'd know anywhere, the spot of brown, a dead giveaway.

"Cat got your tongue now?" A dazzling smile peeked out from behind a short, salt and pepper beard as firm hands gripped your shoulders to steady you. "May I help you up?"

It was all you could do to nod and soon you were standing once again, phone in hand, staring up at a face you would never in a million years dream might be found outside a Warhammer store in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere. You blinked a couple times, then clasped a free hand against your burning cheek.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry. I wasn't looking at all where I was going. Let me just get out of your way and let you get on with your day."

If the slight furrow in his brow didn't cause your mouth to salivate, the tiny lip pucker sure did.

"Well that's just it, isn't it? The reason I was in your way in the first place..."

"Oh, this isn't your fault..." you tried to interrupt.

"...is because this door appears to be locked and there's a hastily hand-written sign stating 'Emergency. Back tomorrow at 10.'"

You glanced to the side to confirm the statement as well as peel your eyes off the man in front of you, for fear he was seeing all the thoughts inside your head. Who were you kidding? He'd clearly already seen them, the way he returned a shy grin as he finished his explanation.

"Oh that sucks. Wonder what happened to Josh?"

"Who's Josh?” he asked, with a deadly raised eyebrow.

"The store owner. He's usually here everyday, late sometimes even. If he's not here, something is definitely out of sorts. Hope he's okay," you worried.

"Do you frequent the store often?"

"Me? Oh, no. I buy honey from Josh's wife and sometimes he keeps a few jars around the store for regulars. I was going to see if I could pick some up."

"So you're not a gamer then?" Was that a tinge of disappointment underneath the curiosity? No, why would there be?

"Um, noooo..." Dammit. You took a quick look around to see who might be with him, possibly about to wrangle him away, but there didn't seem to be anyone worried about an errant fan. "Look, I'm sorry, but aren't you...?"

"Aren't I...?" A cheekier version of his shy grin appeared and you were absolutely done for.

"Oh my god. Please, forgive me. I should get out of your hair."

"It's Henry," he offered a large hand in your direction.

"Henry Cavill," you whispered back, accepting the shake.

"That's so odd," he grinned, hand still clasped in yours as you continued to let him slowly raise and lower your arm, completely amazed it was even happening..

"Hmm? What's odd?"

"We appear to have the same name."

You laughed and offered your real name before ending the shake.

"Lovely to make your acquaintance," he smiled. "Were you that upset about missing out on the honey?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You appeared quite upset just now. It must be really good honey."

"Oh my god, it's the best," you gushed, excited to talk up your friend's business. "She makes a clover variety as well as orange blossom and both are phenomenal. Oh, but no, that's not, no, I hadn't seen the sign at all."

"Well something seemed rather upsetting."

"Oh, my, um boyf.., um," you stuttered, unclear why you were about to unload your personal shit on a Hollywood A-List celebrity.

"It's alright. I didn't mean to pry."

"Well, what are you doing all the way out here anyway? Surely, there's another location closer to the city. I mean, you were here for the convention, right?"

"Yes, well. You're not the only clumsy one. I blame these fat fingers," he waved a hand in front of your face and it was all you could do not to drool. "I ordered a special model online, thinking I could work on it during a brief hiatus, and thought I'd arranged to have it shipped to a store near my rental, but apparently I don't know the geography around here very well, and well, I guess I didn't realize there was more than one location in this area. By the time I noticed I tapped the wrong store on my phone, it was too late to change the order and I figured a drive might be nice."

"Well that's, um, that's really unfortunate. Are you staying in the city?" You checked your watch. "Oof, you're about to hit rush hour traffic. What a nightmare to have to go back in and then do the trip again tomorrow morning."

"Rush hour into the city this time of day?"

"It's rush hour in every direction back that way this time of day. Plus two lane roads most of the way. Dreadful. And you didn’t even get what you came for. Sorry!"

"Well, where are you headed this time of day?" Why was he chatting with you like an old friend? Surely, he had better things to get to.

"Oh, well, we're," nope, not 'we' anymore. "Um, I'm house sitting at another friend's farm for a few weeks. A nice little staycation while I celebrate my birthday and anniver...um, birthday."

"Oh, it's your birthday?"

"Week after next."

"Well happy early birthday."

"Thanks!" You couldn't possibly smile any wider and your cheeks were about to start hurting. Definitely not the feelings you thought you would be experiencing as you read the text messages from your boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend, you reminded yourself.

"Alright, well, I guess I should probably hit the road and get the rush hour over with."

You stared a little too long, wheels turning in your head. No. This is dumb. Don't open your mouth.

"Do you have some place you have to be tonight?" Way to go.

"Sorry?"

"Just, um. Okay, this is so awkward and I swear it's not a prank or publicity stunt or anything and I'm not a stalker..."

"Though you are beginning to worry me," he chuckled, with a conspiratorial nod of his head.

"If no one's waiting on you, you could stay the night at the farm with me. There's plenty of room. And that way you don't have to make the trip twice." The words were out of your mouth before you could even consider you might want to clear it with your friend. But who wouldn't want Henry Cavill staying under their roof?

"Oh. That's, um, that's certainly unexpected and not necessary at all."

"It's no trouble, really. I could just make a quick call..."

"Well, if you're sure..."

"One sec." You turned away to phone your friend and, leaving out the part about a text-message breakup, you secured permission to allow Henry Cavill into the house for the night. No arm twisting needed, just promises of a few photos. You were sure he'd oblige, after everything you'd seen and heard about his gentle and considerate way with paparazzi and fans.

"Okay, we're on. Only if you want, of course." Please say yes, please say yes.

"If you're sure?" That eyebrow would definitely be the death of you.

"Positive. Follow me?"

You headed back to your vehicle, loaded with packages of food and alcohol for the next two weeks. When you pulled out of your spot, you saw Henry in what must be a luxury SUV rental fall in behind you and you led him 30 minutes down the winding back country roads to Grouse Ridge Farm.

"I hope the gravel didn't do any damage," you called to him as you exited your very not luxury SUV "I tried to keep the speed low so I didn't kick back any rocks or dust your way."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Can I give you a hand with your belongings?" he nodded toward the cargo hold.

"That's so kind of you, yes. Thank you."

You each grabbed several items from the back and you noticed Henry look off toward the barn as you headed up the wide front stairs of the wraparound porch.

"Are there horses on this farm?"

"Why, yes there are. Do you...oh, of course you ride! Would you like to see them?" You set your bags down to fish the house key out of your pocket and opened the door.

"I'd love to. Shall we put these groceries away first? And are you feeding an army?" Henry's laugh was so pleasing, not derisive or mean at all. Just genuinely cheery. You led him to the kitchen where he began to hand you items from coolers to place in the fridge while you chatted.

"Not that it's a terrible trek to the store, that's actually the other reason I stopped in town on my way out, and there are a few variety stores nearby as well, but when I'm out here, I love to just ... be out here. So I try to plan for most meals with an occasional night out at a local restaurant or two."

"Surely you can't eat all this by yourself though?"

Here we go.

"No, you're right. I wasn't actually meant to be alone here for two weeks. Along with my birthday, tomorrow was supposed to be my one year anniversary with my boyfriend but he bailed." You could feel tears welling. "Like, it's been a little stressful lately, because he's been away for business for a few months and he's promised to get back to visit on weekends when he can but that hasn't worked out so well and this was going to be like a reset for us and then he texted..."

"He did not break up with you in a text message?"

You nodded slowly, embarrassed at how ridiculous the whole thing sounded, but also at the well of tears still building and threatening to break free.

"What a complete and utter twat. Pardon my French."

That particular curse never failed to make you giggle, and so with relief you let out a cautious laugh and wiped the tears away.

"He really is," you replied. You took a beat. The method of ending the relationship notwithstanding, even the few months before he was sent off to a new city to help build a brand for his company hadn't been the greatest. Petty squabbles, missed dinner dates, shifting priorities. You were so grateful you had held your ground and insisted on not moving in together right away. "You know what? Just nevermind it. I mean, if I'm not important enough to plan a few trips home over several months to continue nurturing our new-ish relationship let alone show up for an anniversary vacation, clearly he's not worth crying over."

"There you go! Absolutely right."

"Should we go meet the horses?"

"Love to." 

The bright smile on his face had you weak in the knees again but you somehow managed to lead Henry back outside to the barn, stepping inside the large doors carefully, so you didn't spook the animals.

"They don't spend all their time in here, do they?"

"Oh, no! It's just getting late and dark soon. My friends have a farm hand who comes by in the mornings and evenings to feed and water them, let them out on the property, muck the stalls, wrangle them back in. All the things I'm positively no good at. I can feed the goats," you laughed and nodded to the three animals in an enclosure with a small door leading out to a fenced in paddock.

"Well that's a relief. Do you know their names?"

"Yes! This is Telly," you walked toward a massive brown stallion with a gorgeous black mane. "And next to him is Butterscotch. Her coloring is my favorite. Over here we have Mikka and Sadie, the two Appaloosas. Sadie's pregnant. "

You watched the way Henry cooed and whispered to each horse in turn, taking the time to figure out the exact right spot to pat or rub or scratch at. Was he that meticulous in all his interactions?

“And what kind of dogs do the owners keep?” 

“How did you ...?” you trailed off as you realized he must have noticed the dog beds by the fireplace in the great-room off the kitchen, as well as the water bowls scattered throughout the house and barn. “They have two Great Pyrenees.”

“Oh, big floofers then. Excellent!” Did he just say floofers? Could this man get any more adorable? 

“Yes,” you laughed. “Um, Leo and Gabs.”

“And where are those two?”

“Oh, well my friends take them along on trips. I wish they’d leave them. I love their couch cuddles. Don’t care how many lint rollers I have to go through.”

“Ha, yes,” Henry laughed. “Lint rollers, a dog owner’s best friend.”

Oh shit.

“Henry? Is Kal with you on this trip? I mean, he’s not suffering alone in a strange hotel room right now is he?” You were close to mortified. Had you forced Henry to abandon Kal? 

“In the hotel room, yes. Alone? Decidedly not,” he chuckled. “I rang my assistant on the way out here to let her know she’d need to extend her baby-sitting for the night. Kal’s in good hands. Probably scamming for extra dinner as we speak.”

“Oh, good! Speaking of dinner, are you hungry?”

“I could eat, yes.”

“Good. I have something for that.” Henry cocked his head to the side with an eyebrow raise and you paused for a moment, shocked at how easily the double-entendre slipped out. “I just mean, well, you know, the army stores and ...”

Henry laughed and saved you from further embarrassment. “Yes, what’s on the menu tonight?”

“Okay, well I have sandwich fixings, a few soups, stuff for stew, plenty of pasta options, and oooh, I make a killer bolognese if I do say so myself,” you listed off as you headed back into the house.

“Oh, I don’t want you to go to any trouble. Sandwiches would be fine.”

“It’s literally no trouble. I prepped the sauce this week. Just need to reheat it and toast up some gnocchi. The hardest part for me would probably be opening the wine. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m terribly clumsy and all the bottles I brought are corked instead of screw tops. Jeremy bought them all before he left for work. Would you mind?”

You nodded to the stash of bottles on the counter and Henry set about picking out a pairing for the dinner. “Did he imagine you’d never want a glass without him?”

“Like you said, total twat. Oh, and I don’t mean to keep putting you to work, but it’s going to start getting cold in here now that the sun’s down. I can turn up the thermostat a bit, but how are you at building fires?”

“I’m excellent at it.” He was already turning toward the great room after pouring two glasses of red. You wondered about the title of this Hallmark Holiday movie you suddenly found yourself in.

By the time the fire was roaring, you had plates served up at the long farmhouse table. Henry sat and the two of you chatted throughout the meal, beginning with his amazement at how you were not lying about the sauce.

“Right??? I simply won’t be modest about it. It’s like the one good thing I can do.”

“Oh I highly doubt that. The skill it takes to coax this flavor? You must be able to translate that into other dishes?”

“Well, I try.” There, a return to modesty.

After dinner, Henry suggested drinks by the fire and you were happy to join him, settling into the overstuffed easy chair, lest he feel you were crowding him on the couch. But this way you could stare naturally into his mesmerizing eyes while he spoke a language you didn’t understand about a topic you could tell meant the world to him. You’d asked about the model he was to pick up tomorrow and that opened a floodgate, as if he’d been dying to chat about his hobby for ages.

“I’m sorry, I must be boring you.”

“Not at all! I mean, I don’t know anything about the game, but I love hearing people talk about their passions. It’s enlightening, getting to know what makes people tick, what makes them happy.” You tried to stifle a yawn. “That’s not a commentary!” you laughed.

“Yeah it’s definitely getting late,” Henry glanced at his watch for the first time the entire evening. Other than a quick glance at his phone at dinner to answer a text from his assistant, his attention had been entirely on you and the evening.

“Okay, well let me get you settled in a guest room.”

There were three rooms in the house with private baths, while the rest shared various full and half baths up and downstairs. You felt weird putting him in your friend’s room or the room with two twins, so the king guest room that you normally stayed in would be his for the night. Don’t think about wrapping yourself in the sheets later.

“This is you. Bathroom is through the far door and there are usually extra toiletries stocked under the sink so help yourself. Oh, gosh! Do you want me to grab a pair of pj bottoms or something for you?”

Henry pursed his lips and with a mischievous look stated, “Hmmm, not necessary.”

It took you a moment to catch his drift and your eyes widened as you turned with a squeak of surprise. “Oh! Right, okay.. Well, I’m just down the hall if you need anything. Goodnight, Henry.”

“Goodnight Henry,” he winked when you turned back confused, then waited as you entered your room laughing. 

You closed the door and took a deep breath then exhaled as you began imagining him naked in your bed. You grabbed your toiletry bag and prepared for bed trying not to think anymore about it. Sleep was going to come hard tonight.

Chapter 2

Tags: Please let me know if you want on or off or moved.

Anything: @mayloma @fvckinghenrycavill @geralts-yenn @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @aireraume @kebabgirl67 @marantha @sweetdreamsofgelato @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @dedicated-to-mr-cavill @alexakeyloveloki @feelmyroarrrr @raccoon-eyed-rebel (I put you here based on all our fun times together, but please let me know if this was too presumptuous) @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @kingliam2019

Hall Pass: (askers and likers, though if you liked the teaser post and you aren’t here, Tumblr won’t let me tag you)  @anastasia00moon (can’t tag you sorry!) @crymeariversworld @tess-lecter-blog @codykosuckmytoe @casadutti @fefa-la-printcessa @kaylamontaniz @kemillyfreitas​ @urmom3sposts​ @alicasalime​ @florxdexcerezo​ @lothbrokcore​ @straightforwardly @fuzzyugly-blog @livesinfantasyland @thereisa8ella @coldmooninthedark @12dilucswife @ms-angiealsina

[emchante]

Okay hear me out, I know we keep talking about the salt and pepper beard BUT imagine seeing it bleach a little because this man is hungry and he needs to eat. Someone entirely innocent pointing out, perhaps one of his kids, saying that daddy’s getting old because his beard is all grey and blonde but you would know and you would blush as your mind goes straight to last night, remembering the intense look in his eyes as he gazed up at you from between your legs, and your legs press together automatically, feeling the slight sting from the beard burn that’s still there 🤭

Respectfully,

~🫠

🫠 NONNIE MY BELOVED!! i want you to know i actually seen this as you sent it, and died because i was in college and didn’t know how to act normal. now i saved my asks to answer before bed, so this is the last one for tonight. ending on a GOOD one, too.

small drabble below!

now this, oh this absolutely happens. daniel is a man who focuses on your pleasure, he wants you to feel good. and with that beautifully sculpted nose bumping at your clit as his tongue laps you up? oh, he’s eating good alright.

but of course, this has its consequences. perhaps, consequences that don’t even appear to you and daniel right away. truly, you only realise when his little boy points it out as daniel helps him out with homework.

“daddy, you’re getting old!” he gasps, making daniel laugh at the unexpected comment before ruffling his curls.

“alright mate i know i’m going grey— have been for ages! surely you’ve noticed before?” he chuckles, absentmindedly scratching at his curls.

but his son shakes his head. “no daddy, your beard! he’s grey and— and.. blonde? white?” his son asks confused, trying to tell what’s really there.

daniel frowns, looking over to you as you tilt your head. he stands up, walking into the hallway as he moves to the mirror on the wall. holding his face, he turns it into the light and behold— the bleached blonde patches of facial hair are shining.

his eyes widen before he bursts into laughter, and you walk out to see what the issue is. as soon as your eyes land on it, your face goes beet red at the realisation.

“oh my god..” you murmur, moving your hands to hold his face and inspect the bleached hair closer. you take your time looking at it, pulling daniel down so he was in the light for you. when you tilt his head up to see you, you freeze as a shiver goes up your spine.

immediately, you’re reminded of the way he looked up at you last night from your spread legs, dark, desperate eyes boring into your own. you swallowed thickly with a shaky exhale escaping you as you licked your lips, as if trying to remember the taste of yourself from daniel’s fingers.

you squeeze your thighs together at the thought, and a soft whine escapes you at the light burning sensation from there and fuck— the beard burn wasn’t helping your case. your hands gently let go of daniel’s face as you cover your own, whining or embarrassment as you stand there, trying to gather yourself together.

when you open your eyes, your mouth drops to see daniel kneeling on the floor, looking right up at you with that same damn look.

“daniel—” “everything alright, love? you looked a little.. distracted,” daniel interrupts, voice feigning innocence but you knew by the look on his face, he was anything but.

the smirk that spread across his lips before he licked them told you all you needed to know.

🫠 NONNIE YOU DONE IT AGAIN!! gave me another BEAUTIFUL that will not leave my mind for days!! so happy i got to answer this one before sleeping <3 can’t wait to hear from you again soon, and i hope you’re well!!

[theclairvoyage]

Centrifugation: Chapter 10

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

An anonymous source discloses something that threatens to ruin your relationship with Joel.

Chapter Warnings: allusions to smut, ANGST!, anxiety, mentions of past traumatic event, adult language, kissing, fluff

WC: 4.2k

Divider by @plum98 <3

Tuesday, October 26th | 1505

Shaky hands reach up to unlock the door to your apartment, keys jingling with your movements.  Fuck.  Your hand falls to your side as you try to recollect yourself.  Eyes closed, you take a few deep breaths and straighten your spine.  Why am I nervous?  This is my goddamn apartment.

“Okay,” you say to nobody.  “It’s fine.  It’s just a door.”

Courage pools in your belly.  Taking one last deep breath, you unlock the door and push it open, eyes widening at your surroundings.  The place is spotless.  Keri stopped by your place to stock the fridge and clean up for you a couple days ago.  She must’ve either baked or sprayed some Febreze in here—it smells like cupcakes.  A smile forces its way on your face.

You set your purse on the kitchen island and gaze around.  Empty sink, full fridge and pantry, clean countertops.  Clean blankets thrown over the couch, new candles centered on the coffee table, remote on top of the TV.  There’s a small piece of paper on one of the candle lids.  You trod over to the couch and pick it up to read, grin creeping up your cheeks.

Hey, love.  I made your favorite enchiladas and stocked the fridge full of your favorite goodies.  Laundry is done and folded.  There’s some special liquid in the fridge, too—but don’t take it when you’re on your meds!! 😉 Call me if you need anything.

-Ker

Curling the note up to your chest, you walk over to the fridge and open the door.  Keri was right—she got everything you like.  Cheese, salami, fruit, wine, cookie dough, orange juice, and two giant containers of half and half.  A large, covered baking dish is calling your name.

Two enchiladas and what feels like half a pound of cookie dough later, you turn on the TV and scroll through Hulu until you find your favorite comfort show.  It starts halfway through the last episode you played.

“Picture it: Sicily, 1922…” Sophia Petrillo’s loud, Brooklyn-accented voice speaks to you.  You smile and sink into the couch, whipping your phone out to check your messages.

Joel: Have a great night, baby.  Sweet dreams.

You send him a picture of your blanket-clad body curled into the couch, along with a witty caption.  Missing your couch already.  He replies after a few beats.

Joel: Gorgeous as ever.  I’m missing more than that, though.  Gnight baby.  See you tomorrow.

You: Night, Joel. 🥰

Happy to be home and tired of binging your show, you decide it’s time to rinse off the day with some hot water and get ready for bed.  After hopping out of the shower and changing your bandages, you pick your phone up from the bathroom counter and stare at the screen.

Three messages from an unknown number stare back at you.  The area code is unfamiliar to you.  The fuck?  Your stomach flip flops like a fish on a dock as you shakily long press on one message to open it.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Better watch your man.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Sent 2 photos

Shock sucks the air out of your lungs.  You blink once, twice, three times to make sure this is what you’re really looking at.  Beads of sweat emerge from the pores on your forehead, and your hands tremble.  This is exactly how you felt after you left the hospital—panicky, lost, terrified.

The first picture is of Joel’s truck parked outside of a Motel 6, with someone in the passenger seat next to him.  It looks like a woman, but it’s too dim to make out the rest of her features.  The second picture is the same angle, but of Joel leaning near the woman’s ear, smile plastered on his face—and there’s no question that it’s him.  Salt and pepper beard, curved nose, those fucking brunette tendrils you adore so much.  He’s even wearing one of his green flannels that you’ve worn while he’s fucked you.  This photo is better lit, almost like headlights of a passing car flashed on as soon as it was snapped.  The woman’s face is—gorgeous.  She’s Latina, with beautiful caramel skin, long, shiny black hair cascading down her shoulders, bright red lips, piercing hazel eyes, and a low-cut top that shows some massive breasts stuffed in a pushup bra.

The phone slips out of your hand and lands on the bathroom tile with a thud.  Fuzziness clouds your vision, and your pulse is racing so fast there’s barely any time between heartbeats.  Confusion hazes in your mind, interrupted by a loud voice telling you to sit down before you pass out.  You plop on the toilet seat and pick up your phone.

Nausea pierces your stomach as you stare at the photos again.  Clamping your eyes shut, you lean back against the toilet and take some deep breaths, allowing reason to squeeze itself back into your head.

When were these taken?  Where?  Is this pre-Omaha Joel?  Is that girl his cousin?

His hair and beard look the same as they did yesterday—and the motel looks like a Motel 6 near the Denny’s on 84th and Center, posted up right by Interstate 80.  Though it could be somewhere else, maybe in Texas, you’re almost certain it’s Omaha.  Oak and maple trees line the back of the motel, with leaves of various shades of red, yellow, and orange—you don’t know enough about Texas to know if they have fall foliage like Nebraska does.  Maybe you don’t want to know.

Your heart feels like it stops beating altogether at the realization that this was taken very recently—maybe even today.

A tear drips down your burning cheek and lands on the screen of your phone, painting the woman’s face in rainbow pixels.  Somehow, she looks even more beautiful than before with your tears plastered on her perfect face.

Anger sears your insides and clutches your throat.  You ignored every little voice in your head that was telling you something wasn’t right, shoved it into the depths of your brain and tried to stay present, optimistic.  Joel had given you everything—took care of you, made you feel safe and loved, went out of his way to be there for you.  What was the fucking point of this shit?  He could have easily dropped you and carried on with his life.

Standing up from the toilet, you lean over the sink and splash some cold water on your face and neck, arms propped up on the bowl as you hunch over and continue to take deep breaths.

How am I gonna address this with him?  Send him the pictures with no context?  Screenshot the messages, including the number?

No, no, no—the latter would be too easy for him to explain.  You wanted him to squirm and roil like you are now.  Sure, you weren’t exactly a fucking couple, but you never expected him to do this.  Fuming, you save the pictures and pull up your messages with Joel.  You look at his contact picture in your phone—it’s one of him and you from your date at Village Pointe, when he’d watched you admire the flowers at one of the boutiques.  God, he’s fucking handsome, and he looks so happy.

Fuck that.  You send the pictures over to him and shut your phone off before stomping off to bed.

Wednesday, October 27th | 0712

Cheerful chirps of the American robins outside your window wake you.  You rub your eyes, quickly realizing that they’re sore—probably from all your sobbing the night prior. Dread fills you quickly as you recall the events from last night.

Shit. Your phone is off. Probably wasn’t the best idea, considering you’re still recovering from a traumatic event and people might worry if they can’t reach you.

Anxiety weighs your arm down as it reaches for your phone. You hold the power button and watch the screen light up with fast, shallow breaths.

15 missed calls.  10 from Joel, 2 from Sarah, and 3 from unknown numbers.  20-something messages, mostly from Joel.  Your heart skips a beat and your finger inches toward one of them to read it before stopping.

Nope.  You’re not giving up so easily.  He can squirm for a bit.  After all, he made a conscious choice to do this.  Another question burns the back of your brain, though.

Who took the pictures?

You open your messages and see that the unknown number that sent the 3 messages is the same one that texted you the pictures.  You open them, and your stomach falls to the floor as you read.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Oh, girl.  You sent him those?  Tsk tsk.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Now you’re giving him time to come up with an explanation??

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: If you can’t get rid of him after he did this, imagine what else you’ll let him get away with.

Lips tightened and jaw jutting angrily, you puff out a hot breath and feel anger bubble inside you as you type a response.

You: Who the fuck are you?  What is your problem?

They don’t miss a beat replying.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Someone you don’t want to fuck with.  Let it go now and you’ll get over it in no time.

A rough, defiant snarl rips through you as your fingers zip across the screen.

You: You’re so threatening that you have to send shit anonymously?  Grow the fuck up.

You: Fucking clown 🤡

The number doesn’t reply immediately.  You sit up in bed, hot tears starting to brew behind your eyelids.  And your head is pounding—likely from the crying, which has no doubt left you dehydrated.  You slowly stand up and wait for the stars to fade from your vision before padding into the kitchen.

As you brew a strong pot of coffee, your phone rings.  You close your eyes, inhale deeply, and flatten your palms on the countertop to ground yourself.  The cold material heats up underneath your fingertips, leaving condensation in their wake.

You pick up the phone, slowly.  It’s Joel.  The air in your chest halts.  Do you answer, or continue ignoring him?  Part of you wants so badly to hear his deep voice, hear him tell you this was all a big mistake, and the photos are AI.

But you know that’s not the case.  You accept the call and wait a beat before speaking, lips sucked into your mouth.

“Baby, you there?” His voice is frantic, and you can hear him pacing in what you guess is his kitchen.  It’s early, and he’s probably making coffee of his own.

“Why are you calling me?” Your voice is frigid, distant, setting the stone blocks of the wall you’re placing between him and you.

He sighs heavily, footsteps echoing in the background.

“Darlin’, it’s not what you think, I—,” he groans, exasperated.  You interrupt him before he can finish.

“I’m sure you can, you’ve had plenty of time to think about it,” you snarl, voice scathing.  Joel is silent for a moment, shocked at the anger in your voice.  He’s never seen or heard you like this.  He chooses his next words carefully.

“Please, let me see you and we can talk about this,” he pleads, agonized.  Part of you wants to smile, making him grovel at your feet—the other part is heartbroken, the photos plastered in your mind permanently.

“I really don’t want to talk to you after what I saw.  I-I trusted you, and you had every opportunity to cut things off with me… Jesus, Joel, we weren’t even a couple!” you spit, voice transforming from strong and firm, to shaky and choked.  Your fists are clenched so hard, your knuckles are bone white, and salty tears roll down your cheeks.

“Baby, you don’t realize h—,” he starts, but you cut him off again.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you spit through gritted teeth.

“Please, please, just lemme explain and it’ll all make sense,” he cries, almost whimpering.  Frustrated, you hold a deep breath in your ribcage and pinch the bridge of your nose as you contemplate a response.

“I’ve seen everything I need to see,” you say, surprisingly calmly.  “You made me look and feel so… so fucking stupid.  I don’t even know who sent me the fucking pictures and now they’re threatening me, I j—,” you continue, and this time Joel cuts you off.

“Threatening you?” he hisses.  Your eyes roll so hard it hurts.

“Gimme a fucking break, Joel.  You’re pissed you got caught—you don’t give a fuck about me,” you sear, irritated.  Part of you knows that you’re not being entirely truthful—you know that he does care.  But you want it to sting, and it does.  He inhales sharply.

“Now you know damn well that ain’t true, and that I lo—,” he stops himself, your stomach twisting at the realization of what he was about to say.  He clears his throat.

“I want you to be happy.  If that ain’t with me, then I have no choice but to let it be.  But if you wanna talk, I’ll be here.  I’m askin’ ya one more time to let me explain,” he chokes, the pain evident with each syllable.  He sounds like he did when he first came to the hospital after the stabbing—broken and worried.

You close your eyes for a moment and think about your life since you’ve met Joel.

Happy, exhilarating, euphoric, a whirlwind.

A new version of you—confident, glowing, sexy.  Now it all seems so abstract, utopian.

What’s the worst that could happen?  He explains, you don’t believe him, and you never see him again?  As much as you’d like to stick to that plan, you know once you’ll see him it’ll be over.

“Baby, you there?” he asks quietly, hesitantly, trying not to poke the bear.

“Yes, I’m here.  Thinking,” you reply, matching his volume.  “Fine.  We can meet up.  Tomorrow,” you offer, tone stern.  You need a day to think.

“Whenever y’want.  Just let me know and I’ll be there,” he says, voice like a warm hug.  It’s pissing you off, how easily he can melt you.  You give him a pinched mhm.  He sighs.

“D’y’need anything?  Bandages, food, anythin’?” he asks, kindness slicing your heart open.

“No.  Keri stocked my place while I was gone.  I’m good,” you reply coolly.

Shit, you don’t want to tell Keri—you can’t bear to rehash what you saw last night and break your heart all over again.

“I’m—m’sorry, baby.  You mean the world t’me,” he laments.  You pinch your eyelids shut, running a clammy hand through your hair.  He’s not making this easy.

“Do you realize how hard it is to believe that after seeing those fucking photos, Joel?  How do you think I feel whenever I think about them?” You sob, hands waving with each pained syllable that escapes your mouth.  He sniffles on the other end, but you continue.

“Seeing you close to that… that woman, who is clearly so much fucking better than me, that perfect fucking wo—,” he cuts you off.

“Nobody is better than you.  Nobody.  Get that through your head,” he says, voice angry.  You groan angrily as tears continue pricking your eyelids.

“What do you expect?  Like… I don’t understand what you thought I’d think.  Maybe you thought I’d never find out,” you mutter.

“Y’won’t believe me when I tell you what’s really goin’ on.  She’s not who y’think,” he sighs, and you can hear him hanging his head on the other line.  “I’ll tell y’everything tomorrow.”

Jaw ticking, you nod before realizing he can’t see you.  “Okay.”

“F’you need anything, y’know I’m here.  Bye, sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

Wednesday, October 27th | 1239

After the call with Joel, your crying and frustration exhausted you to the point that you fell asleep on the couch while watching TV.  The quote from the Golden Girls episode you watched struck a painful chord with you, sending you further into the abyss.

I don't want to talk about it. Oh, how could George betray me this way? Dammit, those wedding vows were sacred to me. Well, they must have been. I turned down hundreds, thousands of offers. Teachers, doctors, astronauts. I even said no to a journalist famous for his work on 60 Minutes. Now, if that's not fidelity, I don't know what is. Then I find out that the only man I ever loved cheated on me. On me! Oh, I could just die.

Blanche discovered her late husband had an affair that produced a child—but only when the adult child showed up at her doorstep.  It puts things in perspective for you.

One, you and Joel aren’t married—maybe this is a sign not to let it progress further.

But—you hated to admit to yourself that he was the only man you had ever loved.

Does the pain come with the territory, or is it an omen?

You roll off the couch, frustrated still but filled with a bolt of energy.  You needed to get out of here.  It’s not like you have work the next day, or anytime soon—somewhere far, far away was calling your name.

Fuck it.  You decided to head to Chadron early—your grandma’s house was ready for you and clearing your mind with some time at the rustic farmhouse sounded hypnagogic.  Thinking of the rolling hills, buttes, pine trees, and open skies filled you with tranquility.  Joel’s face sits in the back of your mind, beautiful brown eyes filled with love and adoration.  A wave of sadness engulfs you.

Joel would have to figure out fast if he really wanted this.

Having packed a decently sized suitcase in less than 30 minutes, you stuff it in your car and hop in the driver’s seat.  You quickly type a text to Keri asking her to check up on the place every few days before starting the car.  The gas tank was at half, and with you leaving later in the day, it was probably smart to fill up before starting the 7-hour drive.

You make a quick stop at a QT not too far from your apartment and fill up.  As you watch the numbers on the pump display tick, a sleek black truck pulls up to the pump next to yours.

Shit.

It’s Joel.

He steps out and saunters over to you.  It’s only been a day since you’ve seen him, but it feels like months.  His handsome face looks sullen, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes absent.  His frown lines have deepened, stubble grown out, some new gray hairs have erupted along his chin.

And then you see his eyes.  Despondent pools of dark chocolate, no traces of the golden flecks you’ve grown to love.  What pisses you off the most, though, is how much love pours out of them.  It’s so hard to be mad at him when you know that he loves you.

He stops at your side, and you turn away to stare at the numbers.  The nozzle clicks and the numbers freeze.  Ignoring him, you yank the nozzle out of your car and shove it back on the holder, fingers still gripping the handle.  His warm hand envelopes your forearm, rendering you motionless.  You can’t look at him.

“Sweetheart,” he says, tone of his velvet voice echoing the sullenness in his eyes.  He takes the pump from your hand and turns you toward him.

Tears pool in your eyes for the zillionth time the last 24 hours.  Your lip trembles, and you snap your eyes shut.  He cradles your face in his hands and tilts your head up to look at him.  Your eyes are still squeezed shut.

“Look at me,” he says your name gently, and the familiar scents of sandalwood and bourbon waft into your nostrils, relaxing you subconsciously.  Involuntarily, you inhale deeply and slowly open your eyes.  A single tear falls from the corner of your eye as you stare at him.

He winces at seeing you in pain—pain that he caused.  He leans in and kisses the tear on your cheek. Your gut feels like he reached in and twisted it.

“Where y’going, darlin’?” he says quietly, soothing your cheeks with his thumbs.  You can only imagine how this looks—the two of you wrapped in each other in the middle of a gas station, tears streaked down your cheeks and looking a hot mess.

“To Chadron,” you sniff.  At some point you grabbed his forearms, the familiar feeling of safety washing over you.

“So soon?  Baby,” he says, deep line etched into his forehead.  You reach up and smooth it with your thumb.  He closes his eyes, exhaling in relief at your touch.

“I needed to get away from here,” you say quietly and absentmindedly, distracted from smoothing his skin.  He grabs your hand and kisses it, featherlight, eyes locked on yours.  He opens your hand and leans his cheek into your palm.

“Let me come with you.  Please,” he pleads softly.  His eyes are melting you from the inside out.

“Not before you explain what the hell those pictures are… and who sent them,” you say, arching one eyebrow.  He sighs, long and heavy, glancing to his left as he shakes his head and rakes a calloused hand through his stubble. He huffs again before turning back to face you.

“S’my cousin, Valeria.  She left her abusive husband in Laredo and is stayin’ at that Motel 6 since that asshole cut her off.  I paid for her room f’the next few weeks while Tommy n’ I figure out somethin’.  I’m sure I was givin’ her a kiss on the cheek.  M’sorry I didn’t tell you—it was sudden, and she wanted me to keep it a secret,” he says with a loud swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing.  Your shoulders slump instantly. You feel like a fucking idiot.

“As f’who sent ‘em… no goddamn clue.  Pretty fuckin’ close to hiring a PI,” he grumbles, chest puffing out slightly. The knot that’s been tightening in your stomach the last day finally releases, relieving tension throughout your entire body. Your shoulders lift and fall as you take deep breaths, before tensing again as you realize you made a mountain out of a molehill.

Jesus.  You’re a complete asshole.  Of course, you assume the worst.  You’d be surprised if he still wanted you after this charade.

The tears flow before you can try and stop them.  You bury your face in his chest, and he wraps his solid arms around you, rubbing your back and soothing you as you sob quietly.

“Shh, baby, s’okay… I understand,” he murmurs into your hair.  “Don’t cry. You’re still my favorite girl.”

You alternate between giggling and sniffling into his shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Joel—that was psychotic behavior,” you bemoan.  You feel him shake his head.

“Don’t apologize, baby,” he coos.  “Y’didn’t answer me, though.”

“Hmm?” you say, craning your neck to look at him.

“Y’gonna let me drive you?” he asks, gazing into the somber pools of your eyes.  You roll them, small smirk stretching your cheeks.

“I ‘spose.  Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.  And ‘cause I’m a fucking asshole.”  He chuckles, pulling you into his warm embrace.  He kisses the crown of your head.

“My asshole,” he soothes.  You squeeze him tightly, a nonverbal apology flowing from your fingertips into his broad back.

“Baby,” he says, and you pull back to gaze at him.  His eyes flick between yours, a question hidden behind his pupils.  You arch one eyebrow at him.

“I love you—y’know that, right?” he says, the volume of his voice lowered, redness creeping up his neck.  He looks shy, almost childlike.

Shock doesn’t fill you; rather, warmth blooms in your chest.  You knew he did—it was just a matter of when he decided to tell you verbally.  He shows you constantly with his actions.  The corner of your mouth ticks up in a sly grin.

“Fastest you’ve ever told someone that, yeah?” you poke, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes.

“Been through more in 12 days with you ‘n anyone in a lifetime—seems like we’ve known each other a long, long time,” he says, picking some stray hairs from your face.

“Yeah, very true… I love you too.  Even though you hate the coffee I drink.”  He beams at you, shoulders shaking along with his deep chuckles.  He leans in and stops just prior to his lips brushing yours.

“Hey, I’ve tried and tried to like the sugary shit—ain’t my thing.  But you certainly are,” he croons, pressing his lips against yours before you can respond.

This kiss feels much like your first one, back at McKinney’s—passionate, fresh, experimental.  It doesn’t heat up immediately, either—you two savor each other’s lips and embraces, content in the softness and sweetness of this moment of forgiveness.  It’s almost a new beginning for both of you.  Liveliness surges through your veins, scraping the sludge of uncertainty, self-doubt, and anxiety from the walls that have built up since the stabbing.  His lips are chapped, longer stubble chafing your skin, hands holding you a bit tighter than they did when he kissed you goodbye yesterday.  He pulls back, teeth lightly pulling your lower lip with him.

“Y’know, you’re sexy when you’re mad at me,” he teases you, lusty undertones echoing in his deep voice.

“Don’t make it a habit, Miller,” you scold him, squinting your eyes at him.  He laughs again.

“Come over so I can pack, and we can hit the road, sound good?”

“Sure does.”

Taglist: @burntheedges, @syd-djarin, @anoverwhelmingdin, @danaispunk <3

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Draco Drabble

Thanks to the potions my mother handed me, I no longer feel like heaving my guts onto the kitchen floor, though food is a no-go. My headache is manageable, but now I’m sitting in front of a table with a weepy eyed Astoria who is refusing to have her hair or makeup done because she is embarrassed.

I’ve embarrassed her. How can she possible walk down that aisle when the entire world knows that the man she is to marry is actually in love with someone else.

What, exactly, did you expect to happen when you let your parents arrange a marriage, I ask her.

“I expected you to do your duty!” She shouts, throwing down her tissue and jumping to her feet. Her anger is nothing like Grangers. It’s more insidious. Grangers is all warmth and fire. Astoria is cold and her touch like a fish out of water when she reaches over and grabs my hand.

“It’s one thing to have an affair after we’ve been married but like this?”

I pull my hand back and shift to face my father, who is sitting at the head of the table, popping sausages into his mouth like he has his entire life to burn them off.

“Is that what you planned to do? Wait a couple of years? Get your fancy home, your posh little life, pop out a son and then what? Start up an affair with the first idiot who shows you some attention?”

Astoria’s lips press together, forming that thin little line, and before we can say another word, the door slams open and in steps Guy Greengrass.

Astoria’s father is burly. He’s big and hairy. His beard is trimmed but takes up the entirety of his lower face, his salt and pepper hair is slicked back. And he’s dressed like he’s about to give his daughter away.

To me. His wife, who is a carbon copy of Astoria, looks timid and meek as she follows him inside of the dining room.

“You,” Guy’s finger is pointing at me, his hand shaking, his eyes wide and dark. Cold lumps of coal stare at me, damning me to hell. I have to fight the yawn as I wait for him to continue get on with his rant. I’m not stranger to patriarchs ranting and raving but this is just getting boring.

“How dare you smear our name!” He goes on. “And all for a vile little mudblood.”

“Vile?”

My mother clears her throat, her passive aggressive way of telling me to shut the hell up.

“I should kill you.”

Yeah, yeah. “What, exactly, are you waiting for?”

“I want to renegotiate the terms.” Guy demands, turning to my father. My father, who is still shoving little greasy bits of meat down his throat. His mouth is stuffed with it, his eyes rolling, as he tries to swallow the massive bite.

“And change what?” I ask with a chuckle. “Demand more money?”

“She deserves it after what you’ve put her through.”

“I’d pay you a thousand galleons if it would buy me out of this marriage.” I admit.

Apparently, this was not helpful.

Guy’s wand was out, a renewed anger burning inside of his dark eyes. A wizard can only rely on instinct when someone draws a wand on him. Fight or flight, is it? I imagine muggles feel the same when a pistol is drawn on them.

My wand finds its way into my hand and then Guy and I are standing with our wands drawn, a large dining table between us.

My mother and Astoria’s mother cried out. Astoria descends into sharp wails of despair. My father, inhales sharply, just as a plain owl sweeps into the window.

It’s aiming for me. With a quick stupefy aimed at Guy, I accept the letter and pick up a blueberry from the dining table to feed the bird.

Guy is thrown into the wall, before he slumps and slides down, unconscious.

Astoria starts to scream at me and my mother is moving, hurrying over to my father while I open the letter.

The world around me goes quiet as I read it.

Please, come and clean up this mess. -H.G.

It’s from Granger. She’s asking me to come to her. Yesterday, she asked me to leave. Part of me can acknowledge the fact that she’s upset about what I’ve done. But there’s a part of me that might be delusional but, I believe she really wants to see me.

Because, undoubtedly, I am hers. And, now the entire world knows.

“You bastard!” Astoria’s shouting at me and it jolts me back into the present. When I look up from the letter, I find that chaos has evolved into madness. Astoria is stringing together a slew of curse words as her father still lays unconscious. But my mother, she’s hitting my father on the back, slamming her hand and her fist over and over, as if to give him the beating he’s always deserved.

Horrifyingly, though, she isn’t trying to punish him. She’s trying to save him.

I watch as my fathers face swells, his eyes bugging out. His skin is purple, and he’s clawing at his throat. His greasy lips are turning blue as the bits of sausage tumble from his mouth. He’s stuffed too many pieces in. He’s choking on the bite he couldn’t finish before he shoved more in.

My gods.

My father is dying.

My body is filling with something I can’t describe. A sense of fullness and lightness consumes me as I watch my fathers eyes lock onto mine. I don't know if he is seeing me or not. But together, our eyes remain, as he gasps, uselessly, for more air.

There’s warmth seeping into my face, my fingers feel tingly, and my feet are lighter than ever.

“Draco, do something!”

But, I can’t. I’m stuck. I’m frozen to the floor as my mother cries and panics. She’s running around the dining room, as if in search of something that may save him. But there is no saving this man. The world he built is imploding around him as he dies. Choked out, suffocated by his own greed.

It’s a fucking miracle.

When he finally slumps forward, his face falling into the greasy plate in front of him with a loud smack, I can’t help the choked laugh that escapes.

My mother is too upset to notice, but Astoria is frozen, staring at my fathers dead body before she finally blinks and looks at me.

I fold Granger’s letter back into the neat little envelope before tucking it into my coat pocket.

“Astoria, I think it’s safe to say that we shouldn’t get married.”

She says nothing, she just stares at me. Wide eyed and shocked.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, I am. You deserve more than that. You deserve to marry for love, not...” I hold a hand out toward my family. My mother running around, crying. My dead father, blue faced and covered in sausage grease. “This.”

Surprisingly, she just nods, agreeing.

[metalnecklace]

Outpace The Dawn

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader (plus size)

Words: 6968

Warnings: Discussion of violence, Discussion of death, Slight knife play, Threats of violence, Reader is slightly kidnapped?, Joel has kinda kidnapped her (you’ll see), Very loose plot, Use of (Y/N), Unprotected sex (mdni) (wrap it up, folks), Oral (f receiving), Fingering, Reader is tied up, P in v sex, Slight choking, Hair pulling, Cock warming, Soft dom!Joel, Raider!reader

Notes: I don’t even know what happened. This was supposed to be short and dirty, and it turned into this. Takes place shortly after season 1. Plot is suuuper loose here, I got very carried away with an idea I had and this is what came of it. Also I am going to be just publishing whenever I’m done writing so I’m no longer working on a schedule but I do have some stuff lined up that I’m almost finished! Thanks to everyone who keeps reading, if you wanna be tagged let me know!

Summary: Raider!Reader is on the run, turns out she finds even more danger ahead.

Masterlist

The air was sharp as my lungs expanded over and over again. My feet were pounding against the ground, the staccato crunch of the fall leaves reaching my ears every few steps. I was afraid. Terrified. The roaring in my ears wouldn’t settle enough for me to listen for anyone following me, but I couldn’t chance slowing down.

Soon enough I came across a broken down cabin. It was small, unassuming, and nestled in amongst some trees. It would have to do.

I glanced around me, taking in my surroundings, and didn’t see anybody lurking in the shadows. The last thing I needed was to be followed and pinned down in such a tight spot. Luckily I couldn’t see anybody.

My legs felt like jelly after running for so long, but the thought of being able to rest pulled me toward the door of the cabin. I lifted my hand to push the door open but froze when another larger hand clapped over my mouth. My immediate scream was muffled and as I tried to break free an arm wrapped around my arms, pinning them to my middle. I was pushed through the door, my captor still holding tight, and I thrashed the entire way over to a wooden chair in the middle of the room.

“Hold still!” A voice grumbled behind me, the gruffness reminding me of smoothing my palms over the rough edges of rocks by the seaside. Just like his voice, his hands weren’t gentle as they pushed me down onto the chair and whipped a rope around me with incredible swiftness.

I pulled and tugged but my arms were trapped against the chair. The voice grunted as the ropes pulled once more, tying me completely to my seat.

“You put up quite a good fight.” Boots thudded heavily on the ground as my captor paced slowly behind me, making me wonder how he snuck up on me. They stopped. “Where you from?”

I chewed my bottom lip and closed my eyes, hoping I would be given a swift ending.

“Not wantin’ to talk?” I heard his footsteps pick up again, matching the pounding of my heart. He was walking beside me, then stopped again. Goosebumps erupted over my skin as I felt him lean closer, his breath fanning out across my neck. When his voice came again it was right beside my ear. “Don’t worry, I know how to help you get over this… shyness.” The last word was whispered and sent a shiver, ice cold, down my spine.

I opened my eyes when the scrape of a chair assaulted my eardrums. The man was towering over me as he pulled a second wooden seat across the floor. It came to a stop directly in front of me, and he swung his leg over and sat down with his arms folded along the back. My breath hitched in my throat when his dark eyes landed on me.

He was beautiful, in the strangest way. Before then I couldn’t imagine myself admiring not only a man who kidnapped me and tied me to a chair, but also a man like that. He was definitely older than me, the salt and pepper streaking through bits of his hair and beard. His frame was broad and took up my entire line of vision so all I could focus on was him. Scars littered his knuckles, and a few were etched on his face, but his lips looked so soft. It was like there was an underlying gentleness that cracked through his rough exterior in certain parts.

“Let’s try this again,” he spoke so calmly it was unnerving. “Where did you come from?”

“I c-can’t tell y-you,” I stuttered. My voice felt rougher after I had run for so long, the crisper air dragging over my vocal cords. “P-please, I really can’t.”

He sighed, shaking his head while looking me up and down. “Well you couldn’t have come from very far with the way you were runnin’.”

I furrowed my brow, offense taking over my fear. “What do you mean by that?”

He stood up, walking over to a bag on the floor before kneeling down. “You were runnin’ pretty fast out there, figured whatever you were runnin’ from was pretty scary, adrenaline would’ve probably run out by now if you were any further.”

“I can run pretty fast, for quite a while, too. I know I don’t look like much,” I said, following his form closely. I couldn’t see what he was getting.

He turned his head to look at me, confusion clear on his face.

“I just mean that not a lot of people expect speed or agility from someone built like me, is all.”

“I don’t care about that,” he grunted, turning back to his actions. “It’s none of my business what you are or aren’t capable of. I just meant that you didn’t look like you had been runnin’ for that long.”

“Oh.” Embarrassment clutched at my stomach, as a blush started to form on my cheeks. “Sorry, it’s just second nature to be defensive, especially around men.”

He stood and faced me with a look of disbelief before placing what looked like a tool belt filled with knives of different sizes down on the floor beside my chair. With a huff he resumed his position in front of me, and studied my face for a moment. The fear that had briefly hidden came rushing back, and I once again found myself trembling in front of him. I laid my eyes on his, trying to find that softness again, but found something else.

“You look f-familiar,” I said, my voice wavering no matter how much I tried to stay calm.

“Not sure where you’d’ve seen me before, sweetheart.” He leaned back a bit, then bent down to pick up one of his knives. It was a smaller one, dwarfed in his palms with his fingers wrapping around it easily. “I use these to carve wood. A new pastime of mine. They’re pretty good at making small cuts, delicate lines. I’m sure they’d be good for carvin’ up somethin’’ else.”

I gulped, causing a smirk to grow on his face. “Please.”

“If these don’t work, though, I do have other ways of gettin’ you to talk.” He looked up, fear racing down my spine at how calmly he spoke about torture. “I don’t even need these tools. Most of the damage I’ve done to a person has been with my bare hands. Though, I haven’t dealt with a woman in this position before.” He looked me up and down once more, eyes lingering on the low neckline of my shirt, revealed by my missing top button. “Not in this type of scenario, anyway.”

“I can’t tell you, I really can’t.” My breathing was getting shallow, rapid puffs of air escaping my lips.

He tilted his head, his lips still held in a playful smirk. “Why not?”

I shook my head, closing my eyes while trying to arrange my thoughts again. He was intimidating up close.

“Eyes on me,” he growled, a hand coming out to cradle my jaw. “Focus on me.”

I obeyed, my eyes snapping open. His thumb, pointer finger, and middle finger held my jaw firmly so I had no choice but to do as he said.

“Why can’t you tell me?”

“I don’t want the children to get hurt,” I confessed in a whisper. It was true. Though I didn’t care about the men who chased me through the woods, I still cared about the friends I did have back at the camp, along with the children who had no choice in what they were born into.

“I see,” he said, letting go of his hold on me. I sighed with relief but my skin buzzed from the loss of warmth. “A savior, then. They’re quite lucky to have you, aren’t they? But they don’t have you anymore. You’re here with me.”

He had a point. I didn’t owe them a thing, in fact, I should have been wanting to sell them out after they refused to stick up for me. But I wasn’t that type of person.

“So why were you runnin’?” He crossed his arms over the chair once more, knife shining in the sun streaming through cracks in the boarded up windows. “You could at least tell me that.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t agree with their ways, anymore.” I hung my head, ashamed I was giving him any information at all.

He arched a brow when I looked back up at him. “What ways?”

“The killing, for no reason,” I kept going, like a runaway train. “I was already uncomfortable with the stealing, but we did it to survive, you know?”

He nodded, both in understanding but also for me to keep talking.

“Well, the men in charge decided we needed to do what it takes to steal, even if that means killing innocent people for their stuff.”

I let my words settle between us, trying to gauge his reaction, but not even a twitch graced his stoic expression.

“We’ve all done what we had to in order to survive,” he finally said. “You don’t think I’ve killed people too?”

I dragged my eyes down to his knuckles, seeing evidence of his violence embedded into his skin. “Have you killed children?”

His hands tightened into fists. Finally, a reaction. “No. Not unless they were infected.”

I nodded, looking back up to his face. “That’s where I put my foot down. But one of our leaders didn’t like that. He confronted me one night, one thing led to another…”

His eyebrows raised slightly. Not sure if it was in shock or intrigue.

“I killed him.” I lowered my eyes once more, unsure why I was running my mouth to a stranger. “Turns out that was where they drew the line. We can kill children as long as it’s our gain but the second a man harasses a woman in her own home until she resorts to violence…”

“And you won’t give them up?” He asked.

“I can’t do that to the ones who didn’t ask to be there in the first place.”

“I see.” He nodded and leant down with a sigh to place his knife back in the belt. “What if I told you I wouldn’t go after them? Just the ones who chased you.”

I thought for a moment. “How can I trust you?”

“You can’t.” Simple as that.

“Can I at least get your name?”

He sat back in his chair and paused. “Why would you need that?”

I shrugged as much as I could in my bindings. “Maybe then you’ll feel like you can’t go back on your word.”

“You’re too innocent for all this.” He chuckled. “Name’s Joel. Joel Miller.”

My blood froze, my heart rate spiked. He could’ve pulled a gun on me and I don’t think I would have felt such a strong sense of danger as I did when I heard his name.

A memory seared itself into my mind. We had just finished looting a safe house after killing the two men who were inside. I was loading up my horse when one of the other men shouted for us to run. Gunshots rang out as I leapt up into my saddle and rode off with three of our men, leaving two behind us to fend for themselves. I heard another gunshot and turned to look behind me, seeing an older man with no emotion on his face as he aimed his pistol at one of the men riding next to me. I turned back to the front as a cry rang out beside me before a body hit the ground.

We barely escaped that day, and when we returned back to our settlement there were whispers. The name Joel Miller was on everyone’s lips that night, and continued to be spoken as we said a prayer for our fallen friends.

I had heard stories about that man from nearly every person I came into contact with for an entire week after. He was a bad, bad man, who was too good at doing what it took to survive.

The same man that was in front of me.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” his voice rumbled through my veins, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“I know you.”

He smirked. “Is that so?”

“You killed some men that I was working with on a raid.” I was completely shocked. Mostly shocked to be alive while he sat so calmly in front of me. “Just over a month ago.”

He hummed, looking off to his knives on the floor. “Yeah, I think that rings a bell. You killed two of my men who were posted there.”

I slowly nodded, keeping my eyes trained on his every move.

“You’re lucky I didn’t get there sooner.” His voice was like ice shooting into my bloodstream. “Two good men died that day for no reason other than greed.”

“W-we needed supplies.” I hated the way my voice wavered.

“Their families needed fathers,” he countered. “Did you kill them? Or just those same men.”

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t. I swear. I c-couldn’t.”

“How can I trust you?” He echoed my words earlier back to me as his eyes bore into mine.

“You can’t,” I whispered.

“If you tell me then I’ll spare you.” Joel reached down and picked up another knife, longer, sharper. He leaned forward and traced the tip of the blade down my cheek to the underside of my jaw. “Where were you settled?”

“They need those men to provide.” My breaths came out shallow, and sweat began to bead on my hairline. “If I tell you then good people will die.”

“And if you don’t tell me it seems like good people will die anyway.” He had a point. I was at a standstill. Joel stood up and turned his chair around before sitting back down, still facing me but properly. His thick thighs were lazily spread, his jeans tightening over muscle, while he examined his knife. “I have nowhere else to be today, sweetheart. Take your time.”

I was slightly ashamed at how my eyes trailed up his body, calculating how his clothes stretched tighter in certain places. I wondered what his arms looked like without the flannel covering them. His jeans were thin and testing the seams, clearly older.

There was no doubt that he was handsome. In fact, he was downright beautiful. I thought that the moment I saw him, and even after knowing who he was my opinion hadn’t changed. Something about him just didn’t scream ‘killer’ to me. There was something else beneath his skin, but I couldn’t quite see it.

“(Y/N),” I said. “My name is (Y/N).”

“Well, (Y/N),” he smirked, “what should I do with you?”

I bit my lip, feeling suddenly like my skin was on fire. It had been a long time since I had been with anyone, or even been touched at all. I lived alone back in my settlement, and although some men and women had approached I never felt the draw that I felt in front of Joel. He was magnetic, terrifying, and everything I didn’t know I needed in that moment.

“What were you saying about your bare hands?” I batted my eyes at him, hoping he’d get what I was hinting at. I wasn’t very skilled with flirting, but didn’t care enough to not try.

He chuckled, his smirk turning into a hint of a smile. “You’re headin’ into dangerous territory, sweetheart. Where’s this comin’ from?”

That nickname again. It was like he was stoking the flames starting to lick their way into my belly.

“That’s the plan,” I smirked, trying to pretend I was as cool as him. Calm, collected. “You need me to talk, right?”

He stood up, chuckling to himself as he leant down to put his knife back. “So, what? You tryin’ to seduce me? Distract me?”

“Maybe. You’ll just have to find out.”

Joel turned back to me. “No. That’s not how this is gonna work. You’re gonna tell me where to find them, then we’ll see.”

I narrowed my eyes, feeling braver. “I’m not telling you shit.”

He walked over, kicking the chair off to the side and leaning down until he was eye to eye with me. His hand came up to the back of my head, threading his fingers through my messy hair. I gasped as my head was pulled back so I was forced to look down my nose at him. He moved so he was hovering directly over my face, inches from me.

“Tell me.” His voice was so low, so deep that I could feel it rattle my bones.

I smiled. “Make me.”

A beat of silence. Then his lips were on mine, claiming me as his the moment they met.

I moaned into the kiss, unspoken permission for him to deepen it. Our lips were chapped, rough as they pushed together, but his tongue was soft, gentle, as it slid into my mouth. The hand that wasn’t still in my hair reached up to cradle my jaw, his thumb lightly pressing my bottom lip down to give him more room. Even though I was completely tied up I felt like I had finally reached heaven.

I had never been kissed the way that man kissed me. Demanding, soothing, aching. I felt fulfilled, but like I’d never have enough.

Joel pulled away and leant his forehead on mine, our lips parted while we panted in our shared breaths. I hadn’t realized my eyes were closed until I felt his forehead move away, my eyelids fluttering while I tried to right the world once more. It wasn’t long before they closed again as his lips smudged kisses across my jaw and down my neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against my pulse. “I saw you runnin’ through that forest and I knew I just had to get to you.” His teeth nipped a line down to my shoulder. “Even if you didn’t want me, I just needed to see you.”

His confession had me breathless, as if I was still running through that forest. I wasn’t just a target to him, I was his prey.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” he paused, stepping back to look in my eyes. His hand was removed from my hair and I whined when his other was removed as well. “In fact, I won’t do a thing until you’re begging me.”

Fuck. He had me there. I could tell from the way his lips quirked up that he would be enjoying this kind of torture more than anything in the world. I was in trouble.

“Please,” I whispered. “Please touch me-”

“I don’t think you understand what I mean, sweetheart.” He cut me off, shaking his head and chuckling at my pathetic attempt. “I didn’t say ask for permission, or ask nicely. I said fuckin’ beg.”

“Joel, please,” I tried again, my voice not coming out as weak, but still not as strong as I’d like. I still felt nervous in his presence, but so drawn to him.

He leant down and picked up a knife, much longer than any he had shown me at that point. “Don’t make me use my usual methods.” I could feel my lower lip tremble as he stalked around me until he was standing directly out of sight. His hands landed on my shoulders, causing me to jump in my seat. My eyes caught on the knife clutched in his right hand, blade pointing away from me but still too close for comfort. His face pressed against the side of my head, his lips almost touching my ear. “Beg.”

“Please!” I heard myself cry as if my voice was somewhere else. I had no control over the way I was reacting to him. “Please touch me, I need it so bad. Need you.”

Joel chuckled, his hand holding the knife slipping down to my button up shirt. It slipped past the missing top button, and with slight resistance the blade of his knife ripped through the threads holding the second one on as well. Then the third. My chest hitched as I struggled to breathe through the tension he held within the air. I wasn’t ready for the way the knife clattered to the ground, making me jump yet again.

“Why so jumpy?” He breathed against my temple before laying a kiss there. “I’ll take care of ya, I promise.”

A whimper left my lips, completely without my permission.

“Patience,” he said, sliding both hands to the rest of the buttons on my shirt. He worked quickly, causing me to no longer wonder how weapons such as his fists could become gentle enough for wood carving. Once my shirt was open he pulled it down my shoulders as much as my bindings would allow. “I’m keepin’ you tied up for now. You don’t need your upper half for what I wanna do.”

“W-what do you mean?” I asked, out of breath from the way he was making me wait.

Joel had the calmest look on his face as he walked back in front of me, which seemed impossible with how badly he was already tearing me apart.

“You think I’m just gonna give you everythin’? Just because you said please?”

I nodded hesitantly.

He barked out a laugh. “Absolutely not, darlin’. I don’t think you deserve it.” He stepped forward, once again bringing his face down until it was inches from mine. “You see, you didn’t give me what I want, so I’ll be doin’ the same. You’re not gettin’ a thing from me until you’re beggin’ me to touch you, beggin’ me to taste you. Until you tell me where your settlement is. Then, and only then, will I even think about letting you cum all over my fingers. If you’re a really good girl then you might even be able to cum on my face.”

“B-but that wasn’t part of my-”

“I don’t give a shit about your plan. Sweetheart.” His voice lowered even more, sounding like gravel turning over itself. “We’re going to be doing things my way.”

His hands landed on my thighs, squeezing me in a vice like grip through my jeans. The heat from them seeped into my skin through the ever thinning fabric, and I felt my mouth water and a heat stir deep in my belly. They reached up until they bumped against the button of my jeans before undoing it. The zipper seemed to take forever as he slowly dragged it down. He looked into my eyes, looking for permission until I raised my hips as much as I could. Our eyes continued to hold together as he slid the fabric down my legs, then my panties.

It seemed like he wouldn’t allow himself to look at the skin that was revealed to him, not until I deserved it. Not even when he lowered himself with a grunt to his knees and pulled off my boots and then the rest of my lower garments. His hands slid back up to my thighs, his thumbs rubbing so carefully against the sensitive skin it sent goosebumps rippling over my body.

I continued to look into his eyes. The dark pools of them held so much more than just the brooding, dangerous stranger that first held me captive. There was an underlying sense of need, care, and love unlike any other. My heart ached suddenly, like he had reached into my chest and squeezed it himself. I felt an urge to know him, a need to see what secrets he held deep within, locked so tight only a select few would ever see him as he truly is.

“Promise me,” I started, “promise me you won’t hurt them. Just the ones in charge. I don’t want the children getting hurt, and most of the others there are innocent. Please, Joel.”

His face softened briefly, like a flash that I would’ve missed if I hadn’t been watching his every move. “I promise.”

I lowered my head, concentrating on the strong fingers wrapped around my thighs. “Five miles east, turn left at the small pond. The entrance is a cave that spits out into a small camp hidden away. That’s us. You may come across the men you’re looking for first, but if not then they’ll be held in the larger gray cabin.”

He waited until I looked back up into his eyes, the softness returned once again in a flash, then they went dark. “Good girl.”

A moan ripped from deep within my chest as he forcefully parted my legs, placing them up onto his shoulders and shoved his face between them. Joel devoured me, inch by inch, as his tongue swiped at the wetness gathering at my opening,his forehead bumping against my soft tummy as he pushed himself as close as he could to push his tongue inside me. He pulled away and groaned as he slipped a finger inside instead, making my legs twitch against the flannel stretched across his broad shoulders.

“So tight, sweetheart,” he panted before sealing his lips over my clit. I squirmed and whined as his tongue rolled over the sensitive bud again and again. He pulled off with a wet pop. “S’been a while, hasn’t it? No wonder you folded so easily for me.”

I whimpered at the sensitivity when he rubbed his thumb against my clit while sliding another finger inside. “P-please Joel.”

“P-p-please Joel,” he mocked, his smile downright cruel. “So desperate for me already, I’ve barely touched you.”

“Feels so g-good,” I moaned, writhing against my restraints.

“You gonna cum for me?” He sunk his teeth into my thigh, making me cry out. “I want you to cum on my face. Need it, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?”

I nodded. “Yes, Joel, please. I can do it.”

He attached his lips to my clit once more, sucking it onto his tongue. My orgasm hit me with no warning, and I practically screamed for him as he continued flicking his tongue over my clit and fucking his fingers into me. I tried to close my legs since my arms were useless, but he continued his actions until tears sprang to my eyes.

“S’too much, Joel, please.” I thrashed my head around, trying to move away from him to no avail.

“Gimme another,” he growled against the wet heat between my legs. “Come on, darlin’, one more.”

I came with a shout, another orgasm washing over me until black started to crowd my vision. My lungs constricted after the breath was knocked out of me, and when I finally relaxed boneless against the chair I sucked in as much air as I could. My eyes fluttered open and I was met with Joel’s.

He leant down and kissed me, the taste of myself smeared across his lips. When he pulled away I felt a flush of embarrassment creep its way up my chest. What was I supposed to do?

Joel answered that for me while he untied me. “I’m gonna go after those bastards. When I come back I’ll deal with you properly.”

I shivered, imagining what that would be like. He helped me pull up my jeans, but when I realized I didn’t have my panties he just held them up and stuffed them into his pocket.

“For safekeeping,” he said, smiling.

He bent down with a grunt to pick up his knives, and walked over to his bag. I watched him while he gathered up his things, checked his gun, then slung the bag over his shoulder and turned to the door.

“What if I leave?” I asked, focusing on rubbing the soreness out of where the ropes were digging into my arms. I looked up to see him watching me, his gaze enveloping me completely as he stood in the doorway.

“Don’t worry,” he finally said. “You won’t.”

The door shut forcefully and I sat completely still, listening to his footsteps becoming lighter and lighter until they were out of earshot.

It felt like I waited for hours, my eyes shutting like they were weighed down as I fell in and out of sleep. What finally woke me up for good was the gentle sound of rain starting to fall on the wooden roof. It was such a sweet sound that I suddenly had the urge to stay awake so I wouldn’t miss it.

The door burst open, causing my whole body to jolt in my seat. Joel stood in the open doorway once again, pinning me in place with a look of hunger, and a hint of surprise.

“You stayed.” It wasn’t a question, more of an observation on his part.

“Yeah,” I said. “Just like you told me I would.”

He ran his hand through his hair, slicking back the strands that were damp from the rain. His clothes were also wet and they looked heavy as they clung to his body. When he lowered his hand I noticed the streak of blood that smeared over his knuckles.

He noticed me looking. “You won’t have to worry about them anymore.”

I nodded, trying to swallow as my throat went dry at the thought of what fate those men met when Joel Miller stepped out of the shadows.

“Did you move at all?”

I shook my head. “Too tired.”

He walked to the counter where he placed his bag and retrieved something out of it once more. My heart rate spiked when I remembered what he pulled out of there last. When he turned back to me I nearly sighed in relief when I saw the sandwich he held in one of his hands.

“Want one? I’m sure you’re hungry.” He held it out to me but I didn’t move.

“I think my legs are asleep,” I confessed. “I was so tired when you left, I couldn’t really move.”

“That’s my fault,” he said, walking over and handing me his food. “I was gonna tell you there was a bed, but I expected you to explore a bit. Should’ve known you would crash like that.”

I moaned after taking a bite, the flavours bursting on my taste buds after eating the blandest food, if anything, for so long. “Where did you get this?” I asked, so amazed by such a simple thing.

He shrugged. “Made it. I live in a town not too far from here. They’ve got things a little more figured out. I’m heading back there in the morning.”

I nodded, practically inhaling the sandwich. If it were before the outbreak I would’ve probably been embarrassed or self conscious about the way I was eating in front of him, but I no longer cared about that as much. Especially as I tried to tamp down the disappointment of knowing he was leaving in the morning.

“I was wonderin’ if you’d wanna come with me.”

I nearly choked on the last bite, unsure if I heard him correctly. Once I finally swallowed I looked up to find him rubbing his neck and staring down at his boots.

“Yeah? Would that be alright?” I asked.

He looked at me, a smile breaking out onto his face. “Yes, of course it would. I was also gonna tell my brother about your little place, see if we might be able to make some room for anyone that would wanna join us.”

The smile that spread across my face must’ve looked ridiculous, but I didn’t care. I leapt up and wrapped my arms around him, stumbling slightly when my legs wobbled from misuse, causing his arms to wrap around my middle to steady me.

“Woah there! Let’s take a second here before you hurt yourself.” He chuckled while stepping back but not letting go completely. His hands slid to my waist and held me in place. “Let’s rest up first, then we’ll head out first thing.”

“Okay. Thank you, Joel.” I beamed at him, my arms still wrapped around his neck after my hug. I bit my lip and watched as his eyes caught the motion, then flickered down to where I couldn’t button up my top after he cut it with his knife. “I think you said something earlier though, about dealing with me properly?”

He smiled, then nodded toward a room down the hall. “Go lay down, I’ll be right there.”

I stepped away from him, the slide of his palms on my clothes nearly enough to drive me insane, and I reluctantly did as I was told. The door to the room opened with such a loud creak I nearly jumped with how on edge I was. There was a bed wedged into the corner of the room, and it looked as though it had been made not long before we got there. I walked up and smoothed my hands along the blankets, sighing with the memories of comfort that were so long ago.

“This is one of our safe houses,” Joel’s voice rumbled from behind me. “I brought fresh blankets from home. It’s nice to have that luxury again.”

I nodded, still losing myself in the softness of the fabric.

“I thought I told you to lay down,” he spoke again, his voice no longer holding the lightness from seconds ago.

My hand froze in place before I turned to face him. “I’m sorry, I just got distracted.”

“Ah, distracted.” He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway. I noticed his hair was combed back slightly and his knuckles were no longer painted crimson. “Maybe you’re too distracted to continue then.”

“What? No, I’m not. I promise.” I walked over to him, placing my hands on his forearms. They moved easily as I pulled them away from his body so I could smooth my palms up his chest.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Really? Is that so? ‘Cause you’re still not listening.”

My lips parted as my breath hitched in my throat.

He leaned in closer, until his lips ghosted against the shell of my ear. His voice was a whisper, “I said. Lay. Down.”

Joel’s hands gripped my hips as he marched me backwards toward the bed. I fell back with a thump and watched as he stood tall over me. He slipped his flannel off his shoulders and his shirt was next. My eyes shamelessly scanned his upper body as it was revealed to me, and my fingers itched to touch him. Though, something in his eyes told me I wasn’t allowed to yet.

Scars were littered across his torso, mapping their way across his hard chest and shoulders, and one that looked fresher than the rest looked as though it had been punched into his abdomen. His stomach was softer, with hair dusting along the lower part heading into his jeans, where his fingers worked at the button and zipper.

Everything about him made me want to pull him closer to me and hold him until morning, while making desire pool deep and hot in my belly. I wanted to bring him comfort, relaxation, and pleasure. I wanted to be everything for a man I knew nothing about.

He kicked off his boots and nodded toward me. “I’m not going to be the only one naked here.”

I sat up embarrassingly fast and nearly ripped off my shirt. I reached behind me to take off my bra but his hand circled my forearm. He leaned down and kissed me, making my body melt into him. I didn’t even realize he had taken my bra off until a shiver raced through my spine when the air hit my skin as he pulled the straps down my arms.

“Fuck, look at you,” he whispered against my lips before pulling away to take me in. He discarded the fabric and his hands reached up and cupped my breasts, making me whimper and lean into the warmth of his palms. “So fucking soft.”

Though the skin of his hands was rough, his touch was gentle. My heart ached at the way he looked at me, care evident in his gaze, as his thumbs brushed over my nipples before his hands made their way to my jeans once again. He pulled my jeans down and off a lot quicker than before, almost as if his patience was finally running out.

His hand circled one of my ankles and brought his lips to the sensitive inner skin. He closed his eyes, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, as he continued to place soft kisses all the way up to the inside of my knee. I moaned so quietly I was surprised he heard it as he hummed in response. My ankle fell to the side of him when he finally let go and smoothed his hand up to my thigh.

I found myself getting lost in his eyes, as cheesy as that sounded. It was like I was searching through them, confused as to how this man whose violence was like a legend in my settlement could touch me so gently. Could gaze into my eyes with a tenderness that poked and prodded at my heart until I felt myself letting him in after only knowing him less than a day.

“Joel,” I moaned, “I need you, please.”

He pulled back so he could pull his pants and underwear down, and my mouth watered immediately at the sight of him. He was thick, and so hard that his tip was red. A pearl of precum beaded at his slit and I wet my lips as I watched it start to drip down the head of his cock.

Joel kicked his clothes off to the side and finally climbed onto the bed. He cradled my head in one of his hands and pressed his lips to mine once more. The hunger from earlier returned and he practically devoured me. I reached my hands into his hair and tugged at the roots while he growled at the mixture of pleasure and pain.

His hand reached up to my throat, his fingers tightening enough that I felt lightheaded. I felt his other hand snake down my body to swipe through my heat.

“You’re still so wet for me, sweetheart” he groaned, pressing his forehead to mine. “All for me.”

“All for you, Joel.” I breathed him in and moaned when I felt the blunt tip of his cock nudge against my entrance. “I’m all yours.”

He pushed in slightly, his hips stuttering while he moaned. “You’re so warm, so soft, fuck.”

“I need more, Joel,” I groaned, throwing my head back onto the bed. “Please, please, please.”

My body felt like it was on fire, heat pooling in my belly, as he pushed himself further and further until he was seated fully inside me. We panted together, lips brushing, as our bodies grew accustomed to us fitting together. I slid my hands up his chest to his shoulders and dug my nails in. He pulled out until just the head of his cock was still inside, and then snapped his hips forward.

“Oh fuck!” I shouted, pleasure ripping through my veins.

He continued to pull almost all the way out before pushing his hips against me while I chanted his name. It was like his cock was made for me, hitting all the right spots, chasing after my high until I felt I was suspended over a cliff.

“Almost there,” I panted. “Need more, please, Joel, need you.”

“I got you, sweetheart, I got you.” He kissed my neck while wedging one of his hands between our bodies. His fingers slid over my clit, slick with how wet I was for him. “You’re doin’ so well, darlin’, you gonna give me another? After already given me two this mornin’. Fuck, come on, that’s a good girl.”

Lightning streaked through my bloodstream, and my toes curled so hard I was scared my feet would cramp up. His name was the only thing I could think of as I finally was hurled from the cliff.

“Oh, Joel, oh fuck, oh my god,” I moaned as my body writhed underneath his.

He sunk his teeth into the crook of my neck and groaned as his hips stuttered, pushing himself impossibly closer to me. I felt spurts of his hot cum shoot against my walls, and basked in the feeling of being the one to make him get lost in his pleasure. He held onto me tightly after we both settled down, and licked the spot on my neck that ached from his teeth.

“Holy shit,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling. He went to move but I brought my hands up to his back and his head, scratching at his scalp while I held him close to me. He hummed in appreciation, and settled even further on top of me. “Stay with me, this feels really comforting.”

He chuckled and then flinched at the sensitivity of his spent cock still inside me. “Alright, darlin’. Let’s get some rest, we’ll go home in the mornin’.”

His words got quieter as he slowly drifted off, still weighing me down like the most comfortable blanket in the world, soothing the ache that had settled in my chest. I felt so connected, both physically and emotionally, to a man I hadn’t known just a day before, but found myself drifting off with our bodies still entwined. My lips curved into a smile at the thought of what he said before starting to snore softly. He spoke a word I didn’t think I’d ever feel comfort hearing again.

Home.

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Taglist: @sullyosully

[winterarchives]

joel miller drabble

He’s the shell of the man you imagine he must have been before you found him. Cold and distant… mean, even. Just how you like them.

“S’not your damn fault,” you tell him, albeit mistakenly. You close your eyes as soon as the venom soaked words pour out from your chapped lips. Damn it.

His eyes harden and shift down to glare at the laceration across your forearm, “I say it was?” The question bites you, his tone bordering feral, Southern drawl prominent.

“No,” you sigh, wincing when he presses the alcohol soaked cloth he holds against your bleeding wound. He’s settled between your legs, assessing the damage Robert’s men gave you. “Give me that,” you order, yanking the vodka from the table next to the two of you and taking a generous swig.

“If you had just listened-“

“Save me the lecture, Joel.”

He rolls his eyes, looking pointedly, again, at your injury.

“When I save the lectures, you get hurt.”

“We’ve been at this for what? A year? Little over?” Joel nods at you, “you should know by now, s’just a bit of bad luck.”

“And vodka’s s’posed to help with that?”

“Seems to help you most nights,” you bite back, “fuck, that hurts.”

“You’ll manage,” he smirks.

“Not with you manhandling my arm like that… are you trying to maim me?”

He chuckles a bit, just a ghost of the sound, really. “I’m trying to make sure you don’t bleed out. You sure it didn’t nick an artery?”

“I’d be dead by now, Joel,” you groan. Another swig. “Robert’s a fucking asshole,” you hiss, “can’t wait to get my hands on that fucker.”

“Not if I get to him first,” he growls, finally tying a pathetic piece of cloth around your arm. He rubs at his chin, settling back onto his ankles and saving you from his close proximity. Salt and pepper traces of a beard litter his face, matching the mess of curls on top of his head, he’s actually kind of pretty. “And I don’t drink vodka,” he points to the bottle, “I’m a whiskey man.”

“So your accent suggests,” you nod, hopping off of the shoddy kitchen counter of your shared apartment.

“Rations aren’t looking too bad,” Joel tells you, watching you get up and pace the length of the room. “Could use them, try and get Robert to see some sense,” he smiles, looking at the exasperation on your face. The fucking tease. “Yeah, figured as much.”

“He fucking had his men shoot me,” you spit.

“I told you never to go alone,” he points to you, “you should have taken me with you.”

“I wanted to see the battery for myself,” you shrug, “m’glad I did, too. We would’ve been fucked, Joel. Fucked with a capital F.”

“You wouldn’t have gotten shot,” he shakes his head, “you should have taken me with you,” he tells you again, more stern.

“Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve… what does it matter, Joel? Damage is done, douchebags shot me. It’s all the same.”

“And what about the day you don’t come back? They nicked you this time, sure. What about the day it isn’t some dipshit behind the barrel and they don’t miss?”

You stand in front of him, rivulets of daylight pouring through your moldy kitchen window and torn blinds. The kitchen smells like mildew, alcohol, and home.

“Careful, cowboy. You almost sound concerned,” you whisper, mocking him because the way he gets mad just does something for you.

“I am,” he admits. “Running out on me to score some extra pills? I get that. Hustling on the side for extra booze? Fine,” he waves his hands dismissively, “but you went straight to the source of all of our fucking headaches, without me, and got hurt. You got a death wish I don’t know about?”

Your stomach tightens a bit, alcohol mixing with something far more intoxicating.

“No,” you whisper.

Joel’s eyes glaze over, eyeing the rise and fall of your chest, the seemingly uncomfortable flush of your cheeks.

“Good,” he grunts. “Let’s go pay Robert a visit.”