26, female
Sometimes I'm a writer, when the mood strikes right. Love all things Marvel. Always down for a good gushing about my favorites đđ I repost a lot of my favorite fics! #America'sAss #chriscrisis #EvansEveryday #RennerforPresident #StanforStan #Buckyislife #TomHollandisliterallymywholeheart #PeterParkerPlease
âź Joel Miller
âŁSize Difference by palioom
Joel Miller x F!Reader
âŁAngst in Age-Gap Relationship by inklore
Joel Miller x F!Reader
âŁEnsnare by ozarkthedog
CNC!Joel Miller x F!Reader
âŁCome Clean by futureman
Joel Miller x F!Reader
âŁKeep It On The Low by futureman
Ex!Joel Miller x F!Reader
âŁShadows by ozarkthedog [Dead Dove]
Noncon!Dark!Joel Miller x F!Reader
âŁGimme What I Want: A Fic in Texts by atticrissfinch
Joel Miller x F!Reader and sexting
âŁStiff by mothandpidgeon
Erectile Dysfunction!Joel Miller x F!Reader with age-gap
âŁButterfly by stargirlfics
Joel Miller x Black!Latina!Reader
âŁWolf Song by eupheme
Joel Miller x F!Reader
âŁIn the Woods Somewhere by eupheme
Joel Miller x F!Reader
âŁGreedy Little Thing by ozarkthedog
Joel Miller x F!Reader
âŁImpetuous by inklore
Joel Miller x Smuggler!F!Reader
âŁAin't No Sunshine by sunflowersteves
Joel Miller x Sunshine!F!Reader [Part 2]
âŁJust the Tip by toxicanonymity
Dubcon!Joel Miller x Innocent!F!Reader
âŁReckless by psychedelic-ink
Feral!Joel Miller x F!Reader
âŁMisbehavior by stargirlfics
Brat Tamer!Joel Miller x Black!F!Reader
Hello! Below is a list of the fics I have read so far this month! Will do a part 2 for what I read after today. (Can someone tell me, if I update this post will it re-notify everyone tagged? I don't want to bother y'all) But you're all amazing and your fics truly make my days. If anyway is tagged and doesn't want to be / wants me to take your fics off this list, please let me know.
THIS BLOG AND THESE FICS ARE 18+, MINORS DNI. PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS BEFORE READING.
Pero Tovar
A Bakerâs Dozen** by @avastrasposts - Pero Tovar x reader
Tim Rockford
steep is the mountain by @sin-djarin - Tim Rockford x f!reader Â
Dave York
no one has to know what we do by @janaispunk - Dave York x f!reader
Stranger: Climax (part 4 of Strangers) by @wildemaven - Dave York x f!reader
Marcus Pike
The Secret Lake by @sirowsky - Marcus Pike x female readerÂ
Hummingbird Has Landed (Ch 9) by @wardenparker co written with @absurdthirst - Marcus Pike x female reader
Juicy Hot Dogs by @frenchiereading - Marcus Pike x f!reader
Frankie Morales
Adrift With You (ch 12) (ch 13) (ch 14) by @morallyinept - Frankie Morales x OFC Jude
Worth It For Once by @burntheedges - Frankie Morales x f!reader
Date Night by @artsy-girl-76 - Frankie Morales x f!reader
New Beginnings (Ch 1) by @endlessthxxghts - teacher!reader x student's dad!Frankie Morales
Lemon Twist (ch 2 of do me yourself) by @undercoverpena - Frankie Morales x f!reader
the devilâs backbone [alpha!frankie] masterlist by @ezrasbirdie - frankie morales x cataline benoit [ofc]
Javier PeĂąa
Learning to Live (Part 31) by @wheresarizona - Javier PeĂąa x f!reader
A stranger in need, a helping hand by @lovesbiggerthanpride - Javier PeĂąa x f!reader
Should we make it official by @wardenparker co-written with @absurdthirst - Javier PeĂąa x f!reader
closer to light  by @sp00kymulderr - Javier Peùa x f!reader
Joel Miller
egg hunt by @covetyou Joel Miller x f!reader
Best I Ever Had by @endlessthxxghts - Jackson!Joel x afab!readerÂ
Passing Notes: NSFW by @burntheedges - Joel Miller x f!reader
make a move on me by @freelancearsonist - preoutbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
Din Djarin
Of Constellations & Creeds (masterlist) by @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa - Din Djarin x F!reader
Quarry Masterilist (Ch 1) (ch 2) (ch 3) (ch 4) (Ch 5) by @ak-vintage - Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x f!reader
Jack Daniels / Agent Whiskey
Cherry Wine | DDDNE by @julesonrecord - Jack âWhiskeyâ Daniels / wife!reader
Braces by @joels-darlin - Jack Daniels x f!reader
Dieter Bravo
fade into you by @chronically-ghosted - Dieter Bravo x f!reader
Benny Miller
Filled by @dameronscopilot - Benny Miller x f!reader
Duke Leto
duke leto - breeding by @hoedamn-eron -Â Leto x F!reader
Crossovers
SoCal to NorCal (masterlist) by @lotusbxtch - husband!Joel Miller x afab!Reader x boyfriend!Frankie Morales
Bloody Kisses (Part 1) by @perotovar - Shane Morrissey/Tim Rockford
Unrequited (Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3) by @pimosworld - Santiago Garcia x f!reader x Francisco Morales
Give You What You Want by @lavendertales - Javier PeĂąa x f!reader x Horacio Carillo
Playdate (ch 7) (ch 8) (ch 9) by @daddy-dins-girl - Marcus Pike x f!Reader x Dave York
Summary: After being dumped by your longtime college bf, your roommate Sarah Miller invites you to her hometown for the holidays. There you meet her dad and decide you need to know if heâs as good in bed as he looks.(General warnings: Infidelity and unprotected p in v)
BAD BLOOD - step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller
Summary: you want your stepdad and your step uncle offers to help
*****
KISS KISS BANG BANG - no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader (bank robbers AU)
Summary: Joel and you live a life full of risk, thrill and danger. Every day can be your last, so you savour every kiss and enjoy each other to the fullest. Can you survive this journey to your dreams?
*****
PERFECT STRANGERS - no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: What would you do if you met a perfect stranger? Someone who understands what you've hidden deep inside your soul. The attraction is instant. It's perfect. What if you don't want to be strangers anymore?
One Shots
Hot shower -pre-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader pwp
Strawberries and cream- no outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader DDLG
Sweet remedy - no outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader DDLG
A Villainâs Monologue - serial killer!Joel Miller x f!reader dark fic
The Helping Hand - post-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader somno
Keep On Your Mean Side - post-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader (written with @milla-frenchy) dark fic
Birthday Surprise - no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader x Tommy Miller mfm
Jacket -no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader fluff
The Burglary - burglar!Joel Miller x f!reader x burglar!Tommy Miller (written with @milla-frenchy) dddne, non-con
Flasher - flasher!Joel Miller x f!reader exhibitionism
Flower - post outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader dead dove, dark fic
Bad Girl - Joel Miller x f!reader x Tommy Miller (written with @milla-frenchy) dubcon
Morning Bliss - post outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader smut, fluff
Cockwarming Joel - blurb
â¨Feed Me - Joel x f!reader pwp
The Party - dark!Lucien Flores x f!reader non con
The Beast Within- dark!Ezra x f!reader dark fic
The Visit - Javier PeĂąa x f!reader semi-public
Surveillance - Javier PeĂąa x f!reader voyeurism
The Hounds of Hell - Javi x f!reader x Steve dubcon written with @milla-frenchy
Watching You - Dave York x f!reader voyeurism
After Watching you - drabble
Flat line - dark!Dave York x f!reader dark, noncon
The Devil in Me - devil!Dieter Bravo x actress! reader
Postoutbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader
summary: When you find out that youâre pregnant, getting rid of it seems to be the only option you have but when it doesn't go as planned, you think of another solution.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTIN QZ ERA. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20âs and Joel is in his 50âs). ((TW)) pregnancy, mentions of abortion, childbirth, adoption. PLEASE SEE INDIVIDUAL TAGS AND WARNINGS.
MOODBOOD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.
pairing + fandom: joel miller x reader, the last of us (hbo)
word count: 5k+ oops
warnings/notes: smut smut smut!!! minors DNI, 18+!!! no outbreak!au. age gap (it's implied reader is in her 20s while joel is 45) and mentions of joel being kinda perverted and liking it lol. drinking (both reader and joel, not excessive), use of a dating app like tinder but not specified, unprotected PIV w creampie and oral (m+f receiving), do not fuck your tinder hookups without protection i'm just horny and gross. excessive use of darlin' as a nickname. implied that reader likes men. she/her pronouns used, afab!reader (with mentions of body parts), no use of y/n. if i missed anything lmk!
a/n: heavily inspired by this post by @yesttoheaven about joel's tinder profile!! it has been rotting my brain since i saw it which literally inspired me to write my first fic in the tlou fandom ever so please be gentle with me. i imagined show!joel because i've never played the game so do with that what you will. please reblog and leave comments if u enjoy it <3333
divider by @cafekitsune
summary: after deciding to change your age range on a dating app in hope of a change of scenery, you stumble across joel miller.
No one likes using dating apps.
Swiping left, left, left mindlessly at troves of men holding fish, showing off their trucks, or with deer heads mounted to the walls behind their selfies holding guns.
This was Texas, after all.
Having just moved here, it was a little shocking, to say the least. But you were getting used to the âeligibleâ bachelors that were your age generally looking and acting the same. When you did end up finding someone of interest, you were usually turned off pretty quickly by whatever shitty pick-up line they had chosen. Or, your personal favourite, âwanna fuck?â
No thanks.
It was an idyllic summer evening, the hot stuffy air of Austin flowing in through your windows. You laid in bed, propped up on the pillows against your headboard and sorting through the faces that adorned your screen. No one particularly interesting, as usual, and every profile was starting to melt together to look the same.
You sighed, looking into your settings, adjusting and increasing different metrics to hopefully change the pool just enough for there to be someone new or interesting.Â
Age range: 25-30
Your eyebrow cocked as you looked onto the screen, pulling the slider more to the right experimentally. No one was here to see you, and even though it was slightly embarassing to be interested in older men, youâd be lying if you said it didnât pique your interest to imagine it. Even just to try, and see, if they ever really did grow up. You imagined it was wishful thinking, but increased the range anyways.
Age range: 35-45
Feeling the need to throw your phone across the room after doing that, you placed it face down under your pillow and slid out of bed. No use in swiping through them now, and you were getting tired of looking. A pint of Ben and Jerryâs and a new episode of your favourite show was waiting for you downstairs.
â§âË âď¸â âĄđ ࣪ Ö´ÖśÖ¸âž
Joel Miller does not use dating apps.
He barely knows how to send a text on his phone, let alone navigate the world of online women. Not to say he didnât explore the options, so to speak, but they usually were not ones that were single, his age, and in his area. Unless the ads on those sites were real, that is.
âItâs starting to get sad,â Sarah had remarked at breakfast, when they got on the topic, and Joel feigned hurt. Hand over his heart, he dropped his fork onto the plate. âItâs not sad, Jesus. Iâm just busy, is all.â
âBusy not gettinâ busy,â Sarah remarked, and Joelâs eyes widened. âHey now! None of that.â
A blush spread up his cheeks and ears as they continued to eat breakfast in slightly awkward silence, before Joel took his plate to the sink. âOkay, off to school, you. And no more conversations about my dating life. Ever.â
Sarah laughed as she finished off the last of the juice in her glass. âIâm just saying, dad. You can if you want to. Might be nice for you.â
Joel planted a soft kiss to her head before she bounded out the door, rolling his eyes and calling out a âlove youâ before she closed the door swiftly behind her. Joel stared at his cell phone on the table. Maybe it would be nice.
â§âË âď¸â âĄđ ࣪ Ö´ÖśÖ¸âž
The following evening, you were a little too excited to see the dating app specimens you had acquired. Not sure what to expect, really, and you went in with no expectations. Itâs not like theyâd magically all be tall, dark, and handsome, but some variety never killed anybody.
Paul, 41
Daddy, but not yours. No libs allowed. 6â because that matters.
You sighed deeply. Some things never change.Â
After swiping through much of what you were used to, a profile managed to catch your eye among the sea of disappointment.
Joel, 45
Just a Southern gentleman trying this out for the first time. Contractor of over 10 years. I love my daughter, BBQ, strong coffee, and sleeping in.Â
Now that was the most interesting thing youâd seen in a while.
He didnât look a day over 40. His eyes creased at the corners when he smiled wide in his photos. He looked tan, a product of the Texas heat and his job, you thought. His features were accompanied by salt-and-pepper facial hair and messy curls that looked soft and pliable. His photos showed off his physique incredibly, tight wash-worn t-shirts pulling over his arms and shoulders, looking big, broad. He was no doubt the most handsome man youâd seen on an app, maybe ever.
When you swiped right before you could think too hard, you were surprised to see the green âMatch!â Flash across your screen.
Your fingers ghosted over the keyboard on your phone, thinking of a witty thing to say, probably for too long.
Your phone buzzed as you saw a notification pop up.
Joel has sent you a message.
Hey, darlinâ. How are ya?
You felt your face warm at the sweet message, when was the last time someone had called you darlinâ? Ever?
Hey cowboy. Iâm great, how are you?
He was certainly an eager responder, taking only a few seconds to reply. You found yourself smiling down at your phone screen.
Cowboy⌠I like that. Iâm better now that Iâm talking to you.
Oh, Joel, who told you to say that? đ
No good?
Not bad. 6/10.Â
Only 6/10? Iâll work on it. I like to think Iâm better in person.Â
I would love to find out.Â
You found yourself emboldened by how easy the conversation was flowing. Joel was certainly easy to talk to, easier than the other matches you had going for you, and infinitely more handsome.
Oh, would you? Alright. Iâd love to take you to dinner sometime. If you donât mind being seen with an old man such as myself in public. Or meeting a stranger from the internet.
Heâs a very handsome stranger. I would love to go to dinner with you. Know any good spots? Iâm new around here.
Thereâs a great barbecue spot in downtown Austin. If youâd prefer something fancier, let me know.
I love bbq. Just tell me where and when, cowboy.
Tomorrow, 7pm ok?
You sent him your phone number in the message. Fuck it.
Sounds great. Text me the address, Iâll be there. :)
Joelâs reply didnât come. Instead, a text appeared at the top of your screen with an unknown number.Â
Itâs Joel. This the right number?
Yup. You found me.
Great. Talk tomorrow sweetheart. Looking forward to it. :)
He texted you the address of the restaurant, right before you opened the contact card, saving his name as âcowboy âĄâ.
â§âË âď¸â âĄđ ࣪ Ö´ÖśÖ¸âž
Cowboy. Cowboy. Cowboy. It was playing over in his head like a broken fuckinâ record.Â
Joel was positively freaking out about this date.
Sarah had managed to secure a sleepover at her friendâs place, so the house would be empty for the night. He had been busying himself with cleaning the entirety of the house, even taking the time to mow the grass before work and vacuum the family room. He canât remember the last time he vacuumed anywhere.
Would she even make it back here? How does this work? Will she want to sleep over or hang out on the couch or should he be making a dessert for after?
His mind was brought out of itâs craze by Sarah jumping down the stairs. She plopped her bag down on the freshly wiped countertop.
âCareful,â he warned, putting a hand up. âI just cleaned that off.â
âI can tell. It smells like the cleaning aisle threw up in here.â
He smirked before patting her head with his hand, as she aggressively smoothed out her hair. âDad! Donât!â
âWhen do you wanna go to Ellieâs?â He asked, more gaging how long he has left to get ready than actually asking.
âProbably soon. Why? Tryna get rid of me?â she poked her dad in the side, but when she flinched away instead, a large smile spread across her face. He was tense.
âWhatâs your deal?â Joel hated the way she knew him so well sometimes.
âNothing.â
âAre you going on a date?â
Silence fell over the kitchen between the two of them, as Joelâs shoulders slumped in defeat. âHow did you know?â
âOh my god, you actually took my advice,â Sarah laughed, watching her dadâs face burn red with embarrassment. âJust donât do anything weird on communal surfaces, please.â
Joel shook his head at her suggestion, already becoming annoyed with the whole prospect. He was so nervous, about what to wear, how to act, what the expectation was⌠let alone, what would happen if they made it back to his place at all.Â
Although, when he was able to shake his nerves for a second, he was just really fucking excited.
âWear those dark jeans, and that green shirt you wore to Tommyâs last week. Looks good on you.â Sarah smiled as she put her arms around Joelâs middle, while his worries melted away with her touch. âSheâll love you, I promise.â
â§âË âď¸â âĄđ ࣪ Ö´ÖśÖ¸âž
It had been such a long time since youâd been on a proper date, you were starting to lose your mind at the simple process of deciding what to wear.
Clothes were strewn across every surface of your apartment, shoes matching with jeans that matched with cardigans, tops that matched with belts and jackets.
Itâs 87 degrees at 5 oâclock, idiot. Youâre not wearing a jacket. Relax.
Exhausted of picking out outfits and making decisions, you collapsed on your couch and took a look at your options. You landed on an easy sundress, putting the rest of your clothes back in their respective drawers, and pulling out all of the products you were expecting to use to get ready.
You scrolled through your phone aimlessly as a notification bubble popped up on the screen.
We still on for tonight darlinâ? Or did you change your mind?
No worries if you did. I respect that.
You let out a cackle at the message, thinking about how he must look right now. Was he nervous? Scared? Was he just looking for a controversially young fuck?
You werenât⌠completely against that.
Didnât change my mind, wouldnât in a million years :)
Meet you there. Canât wait to see you.
His eagerness to meet up wouldâve been a red flag if it were any other run of the mill guy, but something about Joel felt special. There didnât seem to be any funny business with him; too sincere to try anything other than just a good old fashioned date.
You too, cowboy.
â§âË âď¸â âĄđ ࣪ Ö´ÖśÖ¸âž
When Joel showed up at the restaurant, he clenched a small bouquet of pink peonies in his right hand and checked his watch obsessively. The minutes ticked away, as he kept a high alert for anyone who could be his potential date. He knew what you looked like, of course, but this being his first time doing anything of this sort is making him hyperaware of anything going awry.
When he does lay eyes on you, his whole gaze softens. A pink sundress, hair pristinely styled and a bounce in your step that reminded him of summer. You looked like an angel, the sunset behind you painting the sky tangerine, which reflected off of the shine against your supple skin. So young, beautiful, it was taking his breath away.
âJoel?â
Your voice matched your sweet demeanour, and he was taken out of his waking daydream.
âHi,â is all he can say, letting his breath out as he relaxed. âYes, hi, sorry. Iâm Joel.â
âHi,â you laugh back, eyes darting to the flowers in his hand. They matched your dress.
âThese are for you,â he gets the hint, extending his arm out, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearm. He looked so much stronger in person, it was making your knees go weak.
âThank you, wow,â you held them up to your nose to smell the sweet aroma. âI love peonies.â
âMe too,â he smiled, showing off a string of pearly white teeth, that contrasted with the pink of his lips and the even tan of his skin.
âShall we?â He extended his arm to you for you to grab onto, and you got to feel the warmth of his skin for yourself. Your hand wrapped around his forearm as he opened the door of the restaurant for you, leading you inside and catching a glimpse of the backs of your thighs as you walked in front of him.
â§âË âď¸â âĄđ ࣪ Ö´ÖśÖ¸âž
When you were finally sitting, the conversation flowed easily. He was truly a Southern gentleman, like he had said. It wasnât normal for you to open up so quickly, but Joel was so easy going and smart, he asked the right questions and knew when to listen. He knew how to listen, a warm gaze and a nod along, asking follow up questions to your answers and easily getting to know you.
You asked about his daughter, his family, his work. He was happy to tell you.Â
âSo, whatâs a man like you doing being single in this city?â You take a sip of the wine in the glass in front of you, burgundy staining your bottom lip.Â
He takes a bite of the food in front of him, a napkin pressing to his lips quickly after. âBeen busy,â he started to say, honey brown eyes meeting yours for a second. His gaze sent an electrifying pulse down your spine.
âAnd, well, when Sarahâs mom left there was a ton to do,â he says it nonchalantly, as if that should be something normal to happen. âHouse, work, school, she keeps my hands full. Hasnât been a lot of time.â His syrupy drawl is pulling you in, youâre enticed by the way he speaks to you. So easy, warm, soft. You wonder what his hands feel like on your body, lips pressed to your neck, torso pressed against yours.
âSorry, thatâs a lot of information for a first date,â he laughs to cover the awkwardness, and quietly curses himself for going into so much detail about his precarious family situation and basically admitting to you that he hasnât fucked anything other than his hand in the last 5 or so years.
âNo, itâs okay,â you slide your hand across the table, palm up, urging him to slot his hand into it. He takes it, easily, enveloping yours. His fingers find the pulse point on your wrist. You let your eyes drift up to his, drinking in the way his chest fills out the shirt he chose.
âWhatâs your story?â He asks earnestly, giving your hand a squeeze. âCanât imagine there isnât a long line of people outside waiting to take my place, darlinâ.â
You blush furiously at the nickname, and let your eyes meet his once again. âYou have no idea the⌠mess that is out there,â the wine is calling your name to take another sip at the mere thought, but you refrain. âCertainly not too many I am interested in.â
âSo, is that why youâre on a date with an old man on a beautiful summer night in Austin?â
You could tell Joel, in a twisted way, liked that you were younger than him. It made him feel younger by admission, that youâd want to spend time with him.Â
âYouâre not that much older,â you laugh, not even believing it yourself as the words left your lips. âAnd I like to try new things. Donât you like trying new things, sometimes?â
It was his turn to let his face go red at your insinuation. If only you knew how ânewâ this really was for him, how much he was pushed out of his comfort zone right now.
You didnât notice.Â
A little more polite small talk and exchanging of stories was all you could take before the tension was becoming too much. After another glass of wine and a shared plate of sky-high chocolate cake for dessert, you were enjoying his company and could tell he was enjoying yours all the same. When you met his gaze again, hands still intertwined, you could tell there was a question on the tip of his tongue.
âWould you want toâŚâ - a nervous pause, with a halo of lust - âcome back to mine for a nightcap? Iâve got an empty house this evening.â
You couldnât help but smirk, knowing in your heart that Joel mustâve made arrangements for his family not to be home in anticipation. He had to have planned for you, known in his heart youâd say yes.
âIâd love that.â
â§âË âď¸â âĄđ ࣪ Ö´ÖśÖ¸âž
Joelâs home is unmistakably him. It smells like a pine candle that sits near the front door and a faint aroma of laundry detergent. Thereâs photos everywhere, him and his daughter, his brotherâs family. Big windows were letting in the twinkling lights of the city outside, the inky sky making them look brighter against its canvas.
âYou have a beautiful home,â you say, although it seems a little formal for the situation. What else do you say to a grown-up in their house?
âThank you,â he takes a bottle of whiskey from the bar cart and pours two rock glasses, handing you one. He flicks on a lamp, ambient light filling the room and painting his skin amber orange, as he joins your side by his kitchen table.
âI did a lot of the construction myself, the decorations are my daughter.â He points lazily to the trinkets on the shelves and photos on the wall. âI donât really have a good eye for that type of stuff.âÂ
You take a sip from the drink and it coats your throat, burning down as you suppress a cough at the taste. You nod along as he explains the design choices he made in the home, and you play along, knowing itâs likely out of anxiety.
âWhat about upstairs?â
Your eyes are innocent as they meet his, although you understand the implication youâre making whole-heartedly. He puts his glass down on the kitchen table and you follow his lead, his strong hand around your wrist as he leads you up the stairs wordlessly.
âItâs not anything,â - he clears his throat - âspecial,â he shows you around the second floor, finishing at the door of his bedroom that has been left slightly ajar.Â
You step in quietly, leading him inside as you take in the bedroom. Neatly folded clothes, a made bed that looks well loved. Blue sheets and fluffy pillows, big bay windows that let the moonlight in.
âI think itâs nice,â you say simply, letting yourself turn around to meet his broad frame. He looks down at you slightly, eyes meeting yours as your hand drops from his grasp and snakes around his neck. His hands come up the sides of your dress, pulling it up slightly, but landing on your waist.
âIs this okay?â He asks tentatively in the dark of the room, his lips so close to yours already you can practically taste the whiskey on his lips for yourself. You answer him by pressing your tentative lips to his, slotting them together easily.
Joelâs grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he takes you in, pulling you as close as he possibly can. He can smell the perfume on your neck and the wine on your lips from earlier, and itâs making his need for you increase tenfold.Â
You pull him into you as you stumble back to let your knees hit his mattress, sitting down and letting your hands come to his belt buckle. Your hands came to undo it as he pulled his t-shirt off to throw onto the floor beside him, bending down to help you pull the dress over your shoulders to meet his t-shirt.
You made quick work of his jeans, pushing them to the ground and looking up at him with a keen glance. You could see the breath making his belly rise and fall, anticipating your touch on him any second.
When your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, his breath hitched and his head rolled back. He was already half-hard only from kissing you, so a few pumps made him easily ready for your mouth.
âYouâre so big,â is all you can think to say, head spinning from the sheer size of him right in front of your face. Your mouth watered at the way his hand palmed through your hair, pulling you in closer to him for some relief.
It was intoxicating to him, the way your mouth fit around his cock. Such a beautiful sight to see, your head licking and sucking at his tip, gathering spit there to lubricate him. His knees were going weak as he watched intently, no thought able to cross his mind, other than maybe how long it had been since heâd had anyone to do this with. He was going to have to pace himself if it was all like this.
Your mouth constrained around the length of him, taking him deeper and deeper with every bob of your head. Filthy sounds were filling the room now, of your eager mouth pulling him in as best you could. His hand stayed steady at the back of your head, not pushing, just softly pressed there for support. His other hand found your shoulder, pushing down your bra strap.
âGod, darlinâ,â was all he could choke out, using his hand to pull you off of him. Your hand lazily stroked him as you looked up at him, spit collecting at the corners of your mouth. âIâm not gonna last long if you keep doinâ that,â his laugh eased some of the tension in the room, as you took your other hand and wiped the spit away.
He leaned down, pressing a fervent kiss to your lips before using his own hands to unclasp your bra and let your breasts free. His lips traveled to the side of your neck, before he was kneeled down between your legs, sucking your nipple into his mouth. He lapped at you, all consuming, as his hand came up to grasp the other breast that wasnât being serviced. He moaned at the noises you were making, lewd whines into the night air that only encouraged him.Â
His lips made their way down your body to your clothed centre, your back against his soft sheets. You looked down at him intently, watching as he pulled your panties down your legs and immediately delved into your pussy with broad strokes of his tongue.
Your body jerked upwards at the contact, hand fisting the sheet beside you as he lapped at you, like a man starved. His expert tongue found your clit easily, sucking and licking at you for what felt like hours. You thought about his heavy cock between his legs, begging to be touched, hard as ever as he licked at you desperately.
âJoel,â you whined out, feeling your hand reach down to grab at his curls and push him deeper into you. That only made him moan, one hand lazily fisting his cock as the other came up to dip a finger into you, allowing you to see stars when you screwed your eyes shut.
His fingers were so large, pressed into your core as you fucked yourself on them and his tongue in tandem. He was groaning and grunting, and you hoped his neighbours couldnât see into the window at the desperate filth that was going on in his bedroom.
âFuck, Joel, please,â you begged, but he had no mercy, and your orgasm was creeping up on you. He was ready to watch you come undone, pushing a second finger into you and furiously sucking on your clit. His other hand left his own pleasure and wrapped around your breast, pressing and playing with the hard nub there, pinching to provide a little bit of sting to it. It was sending you into another dimension.
âCome for me, sweetheart,â and his voice is gravely and debauched, enough to send you into your first orgasm, chanting his name and pulling on his hair. He was happily licking at you, fingers still pressing in and out as to not mess up the rhythm, as you rode out your orgasm against his face.Â
When you started to come down, he finally detached himself from you before standing up between your legs and pressing his broad palms to your thighs. He stayed there for a moment, cock still hard and heavy between his legs as you gazed up at him, out of breath from his work.
âYouâre really good at that,â was all you could think to say, head clouded with arousal. You moved up on the bed a little, opening your legs and pressing your knees apart to show your pussy to him again.
âPlease fuck me, Joel,â you breathe out, letting your hand find your own clit to rub it teasingly for him. It was still so sensitive, but the way he was looking down at you, eyes dark and stormy with need, you could almost come again just from that.
He put a knee down on the bed and crawled on top of you, his lips finding yours once again as your hands found his face. You held him there, savouring the kiss as his tongue crashed against yours, all warmth and spit and the taste of you. His hand found your breast and continued to play with your nipples, softly, coaxing more moans into his mouth from yours.
He leaned back and slipped his cock inside of you, filling you up immediately and making you gasp. He groaned into the side of your neck, tonguing the side of your ear and kissing you feverishly as he pumped in and out of you.
Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly close, your moans filling the room as he rocked in and out of you. He kissed your jaw and chest, before reaching down between your bodies and pressing his thick finger to your clit again, using the wetness there to draw circles around your sensitive nub.
âSo pretty,â he smiles into your neck, your hand on the back of his, playing with the now-sweaty strands of hair on the nape. âSo pretty for me, taking my cock,â the dirty talking is welcome as he continues to bring you closer to a second orgasm, your breath hitching once again.
âCome inside of me,â you say it like a whisper, a secret in the stillness of the room, and Joel is unsure he even heard you correctly.
âAre you sure?â He says it not accusingly, but in a way that conveys he feels like he just won the lottery.
âYes, please, fill me up.â
You can see the way his eyes darken more, shifting so heâs on his knees and using your body to fuck himself on his thick cock. His hand continued to play with your clit, bringing you so close to your orgasm that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. His cheeks were getting hot as he thrusted in and out furiously, and you could almost see the stress melt off of his face as he came close to his own undoing.
The white-hot feeling washes over you once again, eyes shutting before youâre back on your elbows and watching intently. Your whole body feels like itâs on fire as his thrusts become sloppy, your name pouring out of his lips like a prayer. Youâre clenching around him and letting him ride out his high alongside you, slowing after his hot cum coats your walls and leaves you full of him.
He collapses on top of you, cock softening inside as you both catch your breath together. Your chests are sticky with sweat as you breathe, taking in the smell of him, and the feel of his warmth on your body.
He pulls himself from you and flops beside you, still taking a moment to admire you. You look over at him, a lazy smile on your face as your hand reaches out to caress the skin of his chest. He takes the time to run his fingertips up your arms and back as you lay there in silence together, just soaking in the moment in a post-sex glow.
âI guess I should get going,â you say after a few beats, sitting up to grab your dress off the floor. You cringe at the thought of throwing your underwear on and leaving, this being just another random hookup for you that never lead to anything. Joel was sweet.
A confused look spreads across his features and his brows knit together, before sitting up next to you at the edge of the bed.
âI mean, I donât know how these things usually go,â he laughs, as his hand finds your lower back. âBut you donât gotta run outta here like a scared animal or somethinâ.â
You look up at him again, unsure of what to do next. In your, albeit limited, experience with dating app hookups, you were expected to leave pretty much right after.
âOh, um,â you look around the room at the soft worn-in sheets and the TV across from Joelâs bed. You take a look at him again, your eyes meeting his to match his gaze, where you can tell heâs mentally begging that youâll stay the night.
âI mean, if you donât mind, Iâd be happy to stay.â Joel smiled lopsidedly and let his hand rub soothing circles at your lower back.Â
âIâll make it worth your while,â he laughs, stepping over to go into the bathroom and warm up a cloth for the mess spilling out from between your legs. âI wouldnât mind wakinâ up and doing all that again tomorrow.â
You laugh and lay back onto his bed as he presses the warm cloth to your pussy, his lips once again finding yours to pull you in for a sweet kiss.Â
You nod, sliding between the comfortable sheets as Joel runs downstairs to grab your abandoned drinks as well as a couple of bottles of ice cold water. He slips into the sheets next to you, not bothering to throw on any pajamas (not that you were complaining), and settling in beside you. After a few gulps of water, you nestled into his chest and let your hand find his tummy, resting on it as you listened to the even pattern of his breath.
âWe should do this again. Like, after tomorrow morning.â you say quietly as youâre drifting in and out of sleep. His fingertips continues to slide across your arm and give you goosebumps as you snuggled closer into him, hearing a laugh exhale out of his nose and feeling a kiss press to the top of your head.Â
In his sleepy, deep southern drawl, he replies. âDonât have to ask me twice, darlinâ.â
unearth [no outbreak!joel miller x virgin f!reader]
summary: When your normally strict parents go out of town for two weeks and leave you on your own for the first time with little warning, you're left reeling and afraid of being on your own for so long. Luckily, Joel Miller, your father's best friend, very generously offers to let you stay with him. Your long time crush on him shouldn't be a problem at all.
ratings/warnings: E [smut, yearning, Joel is a little manipulative, loss of virginity, dad's best friend, nice big age gap (reader is 21, Joel is 40), liberal use of baby girl, religious trauma of the Christian variety (no denomination noted), reader wears a sundress, shaming of sexuality, bad relationship with reader's parents, insecurity, flirting, trouble orgasming, pussy pronouns (she/her), humping/grinding, masturbation, unprotected PIV, oral sex, references to early 00s media, soft Joel, i think that's it]
wc: 6.1k
a/n: please go to @ezrasbirdie-updates to be notified of updates! so i've had this idea for like a really long time but i thought maybe everyone had already done all this so i let it rot in the docs, and then i just suddenly felt the need to finish it. so happy birthday, pedro, i hope you never read this. for all the girlies (gn) with some leftover issues related to sex and purity culture, this is for us<3 special shout out to @mothandpidgeon for the feedback and to her, @swiftispunk, @haylzcyon, and @joeloverture for listening to me yap about this specific fic for months now.
masterlist | joel miller masterlist
Itâs summer again.Â
Everything is sticky and hot and youâre out of class for another month and a half until your senior year in college starts. Finallyâfinally youâll graduate and get out from underneath the thumb of two strict religious parents and live your own life.Â
You hope, anyway.
For the first time in your life, at twenty-one years old, theyâre on a vacation without you. Really, itâs less a vacation and more of a marriage retreatâsomething to revive or restore or renew whatever good Christian couples do after twenty-five years of marriage. Youâd only been half paying attention when your mother sprang this bit of news on you at their anniversary party, too focused on the idea of being home alone for two whole weeks starting Monday morning.Â
Youâve never been home alone for more than a night at most. The dark is scary enough with other people around. A day might be doable, but two weeks? All alone?Â
Itâs not like you have anywhere to go, either. Your friends from school all live scattered around the country, and anyone youâd had a relationship with as a teenager isnât the kind of person you want anything to do with now.Â
Typical of them, really, throwing you in the deep end and expecting you to figure it out when itâs finally convenient for them that you learn how to swim. Theyâd done the same thing when it came to driving, too.Â
âYouâre an adult,â your father had said, after spending the last three years making sure you understood that heâs in charge and you are not an adult. âFigure it out.â
To your surprise, it was Mr. Miller to the rescue. Mr. Miller, your fatherâs best friendâone of those blue collar working man types that always has a little dirt under his nails. Mr. Miller and his t-shirts that hug the fullest part of his bicep and his big bear hugs that last a little longer lately. Mr. Miller whoâs always made you trip over your sentences with his sweet brown eyes and big smiles.Â
He doesnât like it when you call him Mr. Miller, but your parents are insistent about it. Heâs never made his own daughter address them by their last names, something thatâs always brought you great joy to observe. Theyâre obsessed with propriety, but not enough to confront someone else about it.Â
And you know why. Itâs not about respecting oneâs eldersâthey just want to control things. Mr. MillerâJoelâis not one so easily controlled.Â
You donât really understand his friendship with your father, but you suppose itâs not your business to understand. You're not quite sure what close male friendships are supposed to look like, after all. Joel might not know a thing about your father.
When he offers you his home for the next two weeks, you donât even think of declining, not even in the polite way your mother taught you. Decline once, and then accept. It makes no sense to you, but itâs âmanners.â You donât care about manners right now.Â
âAre you excited to have the place all to yourself?â Heâd asked after your mom told you. Joel, apparently, knew about it all before you did. You shook your head.Â
âNot really. Iâm a little scared of staying on my own for so long. Iâve neverâŚI mean, theyâve neverâŚâÂ
Heâd just nodded and youâd quickly grown embarrassed, wishing youâd just lied. His daughter was younger than you, off enjoying life on her own at UT so much that sheâd found housing near the campus and stayed there, and here you are, worried about the dark.Â
Humiliating.Â
But then heâd bumped your shoulder with his and asked, âWhy donât you come stay with me for a couple weeks, sweetheart? Iâm not around all that much when Iâm workinâ a job, youâll have all the privacy you need.â
âReally?â You asked. âI mean, my parents, I donât know if theyâllâbut yes! Iâd really like that.â
Youâd tried to keep your cool, tried not to act too eager, but it was useless. Youâd been to his house before, but never alone with him. Not that you thought anything would happen, of course. He was just being kind to you, like he always has been.Â
He just wanted to make you feel safe.Â
It only takes you a few days to adjust. He leaves early in the morning and comes home late covered in sweat and dirt and sawdust. He meant what heâd said; you really do have all the privacy you need. You wish heâd give you less. Some nights, he sits with you in the living room and scarfs down whatever little meal youâve made for him. Never anything fancy, just canned ravioli or a frozen pizza, but he looks so grateful every time you wonder how long itâs been since anyone did anything for him.
You might do just about anything for him.
A week into your stay, the heat is relentlessâeighty nine degrees at nine oâclock, and even with the air running you canât stand more than a tank top and a pair of flimsy shorts. You donât think too much about your attireâitâs July in Texas, after all.
Youâre in the living room watching American Idol when Joel gets home. He grimaces at the TV on the way to the kitchen.
âYou like that show?â He asks a moment later, leaning against the doorframe with a beer in his hand. His dark hair is curled with sweat, and his jeans are even tighter than usual. How does he get any work done in those things?
âJust the auditions,â you say, shrugging. âThose have to be staged, right?â
He gives a noncommittal nod, coming to a halt in front of the couch. His eyes drag over your bare legs and up to your low cut top. âYou warm, sweetheart?â He asks.Â
âA little,â you admit, suddenly very conscious of the way heâs looking at you. âItâs no big deal.â
He sits next to you, spreading his legs in that domineering way men do so that his jean-clad thigh presses against your leg. âBet youâd do good on this,â he says, nodding toward the TV. âPretty girl like you.â
âI canât even sing,â you point out.Â
âDonât matter,â he laughs. âWith that face? That body? Shit.â
You bite your lip and let out a nervous giggle, too flustered at the idea of him looking at your body at all to answer. You like it, thoughâit sends a rush of arousal through you, and you cross your legs, hoping it disguises the way you squeeze your thighs together.
âAh, shit,â he says softly. âIâm sorry, honey. That make you uncomfortable? Iâm not tryinâ to be disrespectful.â
âNo!â You quickly dismiss his worries. The last thing you need is him thinking youâre some little girl who canât take a compliment. âThank you, Joel. Youâre very sweet.â
He brushes his knuckle over your bare shoulder and smiles. âYou, too, sweetheart.â
Goosebumps flare over the skin he touches, but he doesnât remark on it. Twenty minutes later, heâs somehow even closer to you, pressed right up against your side. He smells like outside, like he needs a long shower, but all that does is make you want him even more.
He gets up eventually, knees popping with a soft groan, and stretches. âAll right, sweetheart, Iâm gonna head on to bed. Can barely keep my eyes open.â
You stand, too, not ready to part with him just yet, but lacking any reason to keep him around. Instead, you reach past him for the remote and turn the TV off, pretending like youâre tired, too. You couldnât be more awake.Â
Before you can even try to make yourself leave, Joel slides his fingers underneath the thin strap of your tank top. âThis is a pretty thing,â he says. âYou usually wear this around the house?â
You swallow. âAm I not supposed to?â
ââCourse you can,â he says, smiling at you and pulling his hand back. âJust canât imagine your dad letting you walk around in something like this.â
âWell, Iâm not a kid,â you say, slightly indignant. âItâs hot, so Iâm wearing it. And I wear it at home, too.â
Youâre lying.
âAttagirl. Just want you to be comfortable here, sweetheart.â Joel grins and squeezes your arm. You want him to squeeze everything on you like that.Â
That night you toss and turn, trying to stop the burning need in your belly. You cup your mound, too scared to try to give yourself any real relief, but you need something. Eventually, you fall into a restless, fitful sleep, haunted by vivid and dirty dreams starring Joel Miller.
The next morning you wake with an angry, insistent throb between your legs. The house is quietâJoel must have left for the day alreadyâand you know, without a doubt, you need to do something about the wet, sticky arousal between your legs.Â
It hits you that you finally can do something about it without fear of someone barging in, too. Your hand trails down your stomach, reaching into your panties, and you let out a long sigh of relief as you reach your hard, swollen clit.Â
Itâs not so easy, though.Â
You rarely get a chance to do this, and you can count the number of successful orgasms youâve had on one hand. Itâs always so much work, and today is no exception, no matter how riled up you are.
You try every way you can think ofâon your back, on your tummy, standing, sitting, laying down, fingers in, fingers out. Nothing works. You need something more.Â
And then, of course, there is the all-consuming guilt that eats at you, always. Even though youâre alone, even if heâs at work, youâve been defiling yourself in the house heâs so graciously offered to you, and you canât stop from thinking of him, touching yourself for hours until your fingers cramp and shoulders ache and you still canât get there. Tears gather in the corner of your eyes.Â
You need this so much.Â
Itâs been months now, maybe over a year since youâd come. Consciously, anyway. Sometimes you wake up after a particularly erotic dream soaked and twitching and furious. Itâs not fair. Why not when youâre awake, too?
But you know that answer deep down. Itâd been beaten into your head for years and years: no sex until marriage and no violating your body. Itâs disgusting, only dirty girls do that, and youâre not a dirty girl. You were a good girl. You went to church, you did your chores, you babysat your neighborsâ kids for free, you did volunteer work.Â
You were a good girl.Â
Dirty girls have sex; they let men touch them in ways only husbands should. Dirty girls drink and smoke and wonât make it into heaven.Â
Youâd been determined to make it into heaven, once. Now, you donât care so much about some heavenly kingdom. Youâre more interested in getting off.Â
You sigh and peel your sweaty body off your sheets. Maybe a shower will take your mind off all of this. A shower and a book in the living room, somewhere public enough to keep your hands off of your pussy.
The couch is overstuffed and suede, comfortable and squishy enough to take a nap on without waking up with a crick in your neck. You lay down and pull a book from your bag, intending on finishing all the assigned reading for your Womenâs Fiction class before the semester begins.Â
Most of the books youâve read for school, even the novels and short stories have been dry, dense classicsâthe perfect distraction. It might even put you to sleep.Â
After a while, though, you think you might be in trouble.Â
A description of a manâs hands has your whole body trembling. Joel has nice handsâlarge and veiny with a rough palm and calloused fingertips from years of working with wood and nails and power tools you couldnât name, but that was fine. Maybe heâd show you one day.Â
Closing your eyes, you lay the book on your chest and breathe, trying to regain some control. Youâve lost every bit of control youâd deluded yourself into believing youâd had as Joelâs hands invade your consciousness.
He could teach you a lot with those hands, you think. You bet he knows a lot about pleasing women. Maybe he could even teach you how to please yourself.Â
You imagine him directing you in that firm voice, praising you for listening so well. Telling you how proud he is of you. That youâve done such a good job, youâre such a good, sweet girl.
You hike up the little sundress youâd put on after your shower, trailing your fingers up and down your torso and focusing on how soft your skin is. They hit the book spine and a thought crosses your desperate, needy mind.Â
Maybe you need something firm.Â
Maybe your fingers are too soft, your touch too light, your pillows too squishy.Â
Jesus Christ, youâre possessed, contemplating nestling a book between your legs. You open one eye, peeking around for something to distract you from this, anything at all, but thereâs nothing. Itâs just you and your dirty mind.
You need to get out of the house.Â
But as you stand, holding the couch arm for balance, something clicks. Cushioned but firm. Not too wide, not too tall. Your pulse quickens, eyes darting around the room as if expecting someone to pop out, but itâs just you, and this might be exactly what you need.
Despite your solitude, you tiptoe up to your room to grab a used towel from the laundry basket, not wanting to get any of yourself on Joelâs nice, clean couch. You still have a few more hours till heâs home.Â
God, you really hope it doesnât take that long.Â
You spread the towel over the arm and hastily remove your panties, so eager the left leg hole is looped around your ankle that dangles off the edge. Thereâs really no graceful way to do this, and you try not to think about how ridiculous you might look as you press your swollen pussy into the arm.Â
ItâsâŚgood.Â
Shit, itâs perfect; just enough pressure to make your legs tremble. You rock back and forth, feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter, slick pouring out of you as you try new angles and rhythms. Â
How had you never tried this before? You let out a soft moan, far too shy to be any louder than that, but it echoes through the room and the sound of your own pleasure spurs you on.Â
At first you donât think of anything other than this feeling, that you want to feel like this always, like itâs some drug youâve just discovered. But then you see brown eyes and dark hair with threads of gray, that divot in his lower lip as you imagine him taking what he wants, looming over you as he tells you, âAinât free to stay here, darlinâ.â What else could you do but enjoy it? Heâs too big and strong.
Your hips move faster, clit pressing into the surface below you, calves aching with effort. You can see him underneath you now, holding your thighs as you ride him. It always looks like so much work on the videos youâve seen, but maybe if it feels anything like this itâd be worth it. Youâre getting close to something now, arousal sticking to the insides of your thighs as you bite your lips to keep from crying out. Youâre almost there, that coil in your belly tightening and tightening, oh, Godâ
Sunshine pours through the front door and your eyes fly open, suddenly face to face with Joel.
With Joel.Â
No, no, no.
You freeze and he stops short, eyebrows shooting into his hairline as he takes in the scene in front of him. Thereâs no way to make this look like anything other than what it is, especially not with your panties dangling pathetically around your ankle.Â
Common sense and burning shame tell you to cover yourself, run away, grab your bags and leave and hope he never ever ever looks at you ever again.Â
Fear, though, does something else entirely. Fear makes your body freeze, makes your eyes well up with horrified tears, waiting for some awful reprimand as you sputter out some pathetic excuse.Â
Dirty, bad, disgusting girl.Â
âI-I-â
The words stick in the back of your throatâthereâs nothing that will make this situation any better. Heâll know youâre dirty, heâll kick you out, heâll tell your parents what an awful, disgustingâ
âIâm sorry,â you sniffle, hoping it means something.Â
But he just shuts the door and kneels in front of you, cupping your burning face with his big hands. âOh, no, no, nothinâ to be sorry about, baby girl. I shoulda told you I was cominâ home. Youâre not in trouble, sweetheart, Iâm not mad.â
You can hardly make sense of him as he gazes at you with those doleful brown eyes; all you know is that the panic has started to recede, replaced by a desperate, aching need.Â
âYouâre not mad?â You ask, hot tears spilling over.Â
âOf course not,â he says, leaning in to press his forehead against yours and swiping his thumbs across your cheeks. âItâs only natural, baby. Feels good, huh?â
It fucking does, especially with this new feeling in your tummy and the smell of him invading your senses, woodchips and grass and some fading cologne.Â
âMmhmm,â you sigh, not daring to move. âI justâI neverâIâm never really alone for long enough to make myselfââ
âOh, sweetheart, Iâm sorry,â he murmurs. âYou can keep goinâ if you want, I donât mind. Told you I wanted you to be comfortable here. With me.âÂ
You start to rock your hips slowly, keening as he pulls your dress up and wraps his hands around your hips.
âAttagirl,â he murmurs. âI know that feels so good. You been needinâ this?âÂ
âYeah,â you gasp; you can barely get words out. âNeededâfor a while.â
âThatâs it, câmon, itâs natural, baby. Itâs so, so good for you.â
You whimper at his words, still too shy to make much noise, but itâs like he can read your mind. âYou make all the fuckinâ noise you want, baby girl. Itâll make it better,â he promises.Â
âJoel,â you breathe, unthinking, focusing on what you think might be your first orgasm in ages. âJoelââ
âLet it happen, sweetheart. Let it happen. Donât fight it. Look so pretty, baby girl, look so sexy. Good girlââ
That coil snaps, molten liquid gushing from you. You can hear noises coming from your mouth, but you can barely feel yourself making them. All the focus is on your wet, throbbing cunt.
Joel wraps his big arms around your shivering body when you come back down, kissing your forehead as he lays you on the couch. Your eyes feel heavy, body aching in a pleasant way.Â
âThat feel better?â He asks softly, kneeling over you with one thigh between your legs. He could take what he wants now, you think idly. Youâre all spread out and boneless, and if he pressed himself into you youâd have no defenses.Â
And you really, really want him to take it.Â
âMm,â is all you can say with a dreamy smile on your face.Â
He reaches down between your legs and spreads your lips with two fingers. No one else has ever touched you there, and it makes you clench around nothing.Â
Youâve never had sex, but you understand you want him inside of you.
âGoddamn,â he says. âSheâs a pretty little thing.â
Heat blossoms across your cheeks.
Joel watches your face as his middle finger slides down to your entrance, rubbing little circles around it and making you squirm. âYeah?â He asks. âYou want me to play with you more?â You swear something cracks in your neck at your vigorous nod and he grins. âYou ainât ever had anyone do this to you before, have you?â
âNo,â you sigh, feeling your voice come back. You clear your throat. âIâŚyou know how my parents are.â
He nods, frowning, and you fear the mention of them might have ruined the mood. But heâd asked, and you want him to know. To your relief, he doesnât dwell on it.Â
âAre you sure, honey?â He asks.
âDo youâŚdo you not want to?â You ask carefully, wondering if heâs trying to back out, if heâs trying to say he doesnât want this responsibility.Â
âNo, baby, I do. I really, really do,â he groans, still toying with your pussy. âJust want you to be sure. If itâs too fastââ
âI want it,â you say. Something desperateâs clawing at you, and you might explode if he doesnât take it right now.Â
âNot doinâ this on the couch,â he says. âGonna do this right.â
You almost tell him you donât mind where he does it, just as long as he does it now, but heâs pulling you off the couch and leading you upstairs before you can say anything.Â
His room has been off limits until nowânot as a rule, per se, but as a boundary youâd set. You suspect he wouldnât have minded if he caught you in here poking around.Â
Joel pulls your dress over your head and unhooks your bra, humming as your breasts bounce out of their confinement. He admires your naked body, and you try not to tremble too much in front of him.Â
âYou okay, sweetheart?â He asks, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.Â
âFine,â you murmur. âJustâŚnervous. Some of the girls I know said it hurts.â
âNot if I do it right,â he says. âMight be a little pinch, but shouldnât be a big deal. If it is, you tell me, okay, baby girl?â
Heâs so sweet it makes you ache.Â
He pulls your nipple into his mouth and you arch into him, surprised and pleased at the new sensation.Â
Joel chuckles and presses a chaste kiss to your nose. âHereâs what Iâm gonna do,â he says. âIâm gonna eat your pussy for a while, see if we can get you more relaxed, and then Iâm gonna stretch you out on my fingers. And then Iâm gonna fuck you. Gonna try to make your pretty little pussy come all over my cock, all right? That sound good?â
âYeah,â you breathe. âIâCan you kiss me?âÂ
He smiles and noses your cheek, slotting his lips with yours. He slides his tongue across the seam of your lips, and you let him, following his lead as he licks into your mouth.Â
A new, shuddering wave of arousal makes you wetter and wetter, and Joel presses his fingers against your clit and rubs. And oh, fuck, it feels so much better than when you do it, his firm strokes sending shockwaves through your body. He pulls his fingers away and sucks on them, and you whine at the loss of attention.Â
âShhh,â he murmurs. âGonna take my time with you, remember? Wanted this for a long time, baby girl.â
âReally?â You ask.Â
âYou think I hang around for your old manâs pleasant company?â
You giggle.Â
âMight not be able to let you go after this,â he says, kissing down your neck. âMight not want to.â He exhales a shaky breath. âFuck, baby, canât believe youâre lettinâ me do this.â
âCan I see you?â You ask, and he nods, shucking off his shirt and unbuckling his belt as quick as he can. Youâve never seen a naked man in real life, and he might have just ruined you for anyone else.Â
You donât know where to look, eyes trailing from his broad shoulders to his firm biceps, down to his soft belly and narrow hips. Nestled in the middle under a thatch of dark curls is his hard, leaking cock, red and throbbing under your gaze. Your mouth waters, wondering what it tastes like, what it feels like in the palm of your hand.Â
Youâve read a million books with a million descriptions of thick, pulsing members, seen pictures in magazines and once, when you were feeling particularly brave, on the internet, but nothing prepared you for how much youâd crave it the moment itâs in front of you.Â
Maybe itâs not all of themâmaybe itâs just his.Â
âCan I touch it?â You ask.
âFuck,â he groans. âYeah, yeah baby girl, you can touch it.â
Itâs heavy, warm and smooth in your hand as you stroke him timidly. He moans softly, flashing an encouraging smile. âCan I taste it?â You ask, thumbing his leaking slit.
âJesus Christ,â he mutters, nodding. You lick up the back of it before engulfing the head in your mouth, sucking softly and moaning at the salty taste of his precome.Â
âAll right, sweetheart,â he chuckles, pulling you off. âThis is about you, and youâre gonna make me come if you keep on with that.â
You want to make him come, though.Â
But you do as you're told, only pouting a little. He pulls your legs apart, throwing your legs over his shoulders to get as close to you as he can. He inhales and shudders, and you hope thatâs a good thing.Â
âFuck me,â he says. âSmell so good. Just needs some attention, hm? Look at her, sheâs drippin', poor thing.â He seems to be talking directly to your pussy now, and it makes you a little lightheaded with desire. âThink she needs my tongue. Think she needs to come again, get her all ready for my cock.â
He licks you from entrance to clit, groaning the moment he gets his tongue on you. His noises rumble through you, and he presses his finger gently inside of you.Â
This is like nothing youâve ever felt before. Itâs all slick and wet, the flat of his tongue pushing against your swollen clit as his finger massages you open. He brushes something inside, something youâve never felt yourself, and you cry out his name.Â
âThere she is,â he murmurs. Your vision blurs, squeezing the sides of his head with your thighs. He keeps going, unrelenting, replacing his finger with his tongue as you buck against his face. âThatâs right, baby, take it, take what you need.â
You can barely hear him, too lost in the sound of blood rushing in your ears as you snap again, gushing and gushing around his tongue. He works you through it, whispering praise as you tremble underneath him. It feels so good, it all feels so goodâhow had it taken so long to make it work?
Joel crawls up your body until heâs caging you with his arms, kissing you with all your slick on his lips. âGood girl,â he says. âTook what you needed, came so hard for me.â
You can barely speak, but you do have one request.
âFuck me,â you beg, because youâll die if he doesnât. You need him, no matter much it might pinch or sting in the beginning, you need to be full of him. âPlease, Joel, Iâve needed you for so long. I need you, I need youââ
He kisses your face, wiping away overwhelmed tears. âOkay, baby, shh. Youâre okay, I got you, gonna make you feel good. You need me?â He asks. There is something soft and vulnerable in the question. You wrap your arms around his neck.Â
âNeed you, Joel, always wanted it to be you,â you sigh against his lips. He cradles you close, holding you like youâre made of glass.Â
âYou want me to get a condom?â He asks.Â
You shake your head urgently. âIâm on the pill.âÂ
He only hesitates for a second before he coaxes your legs open and lifts your hips, shoving a pillow underneath until youâre exposed and spread out for him. You feel him notch the fat head of his cock against you and you snake your hand down to feel it, opening yourself even further for him.Â
Itâs a stretch to be sure, but youâre so wet and relaxed he slides in with minimal resistance. Nothing burns, nothing stings, nothing even pinchesâit just feels incredible. The noise he lets out is obscene, long and growling, with his eyes trained on where your bodies join. âWish you couldâfuckinâsee thisââ He says, shallow thrusts punctuating each word. âYour pussyâs soâfuckinâ-perfect, baby girl.â
Heâs rubbing against that spot again, the one that had you keening earlier, but you find the area to be even bigger with his thick cock brushing it back and forth.Â
Is this really the feeling youâd been shamed for your whole life? This euphoria, this overwhelming connection to someone youâve cared about for so long? This was the bad, horrible sin that would damn you for eternity?
It doesnât make any sense.Â
It feels so good tears you start crying again, overwhelmed with every tremor and tingle and shock of arousal. This canât be wrongâit canât beâand thereâs so much freedom in this knowledge.Â
Above you, Joelâs eyes are closed in what you think is concentration, and you bring your hand to his jaw to stroke his beautiful face. He canât know what heâs done for you, what heâs still doing for you, but you can at least make him try to understand. His eyes fly open at your touch, brows knitting in concern at your tears.Â
âBaby, do I need to stop? Does it hurt?â He asks, slowing his pace.Â
âNo,â you gasp. âKeep going. I justâit feels so good, Joel. Youâre making me feel so good, didnât know it would feel so good.â
He readjusts your hips and hits you at a new angle. âMy good, beautiful girl,â he moans. âThink you can come again, pretty girl? What do you need from me?â
âFaster,â you beg. You bring your fingers to your clit, still sensitive from earlier, and circle gently at first. And then it builds and builds, and he hits you deeper and deeper, until you feel it happening again. Itâs smaller, weaker than the others, but thatâs okay, too.
âThatâs it,â he moans. âAttagirl, gettinâ so tight, you gonna come for me? Come on, baby, know you got one moreâoh, fuckââ
He stops as you clench around him, crying his name again and pulling his lips to yours. Joel swallows all your cries, whispering soft praise as you clench and spasm around him. âSweet little pussy just needed someone to treat her right, huh? Oh, you needed that so bad. Iâm so fuckinâ proud of you, baby girl, gushinâ all over my cock.â
He starts to move again, chasing his own high and massaging your tits as he does. âLove these,â he murmurs. âGonna come all over these one day.â
One day.Â
âJoel,â you whisper, looking into his eyes. âPlease.â
He groans loudly and you feel him come with his face buried in your neck. âFuck, baby girl,â he pants, collapsing on top of you as he finishes.
He pulls out of you, and thereâs a soft ache in your chest at the disconnect. Will your heart always feel like a bruised peach afterward, or is it just because itâs your first time? Is it just because itâs him?Â
And thereâs that whole thingâthe fact that itâs him at all.Â
Your heart thuds dully against your ribs, all the dopamine and euphoria crashing into harsh reality. Itâs not like anything can really happen between the two of you.Â
âWhat is it?â He asks, pulling you into his bare chest. âWhyâre you thinkinâ so loud?â
Heâs looking at you with soft eyes, tracing his finger down your nose and cupping your jaw. âYâokay?â
Joelâs not usually so forward.Â
Well, thatâs not entirely true. Heâs not usually so forward with you.Â
Heâs not the type to chase college tail, or be inappropriate with someone young enough to be his daughter. Heâs not that guy, despite Tommyâs constant ribbing over Joelâs interest in you.Â
He doesnât know when you went from girl to woman or when he finally noticed it. He just looked up one day and you were incredible enough to make him stick around despite his increasing impatience with your father.Â
He almost feels guilty when he invites you to stay. Itâs not that he has any nefarious intentionsânot really. Whatever happens, happens. He really does just want you to feel safe.Â
But then you make him little meals and walk around in your little shorts and it makes him insane, it makes him do things he shouldnât even think about. It makes him touch you, tease you, flirt with you in ways he knows you donât really understand.Â
And then he catches you.Â
He catches you in the middle of the day, desperate enough to grind your hot little pussy against the arm of his couch, and what else can he do when you look so pretty and small and scared but encourage you?Â
He wants you to feel all the pleasure you can, even if it means guiding you there himself. He canât imagine being twenty one and all pent up, no outlet of relief for that little swollen cunt. How awful it must feel to walk around dripping wet and needy; he doesnât want that for you. He wants you to feel safe and pleased and satiated, and if heâs the one to do it, then so goddamn be it. If it makes you happy, he doesnât much care what people think.Â
Right now, though, you donât look happy. Your brows are pinched in thought, head cocked in his direction but not quite meeting his eyes. He curls his index finger under your chin, pulling you gently to look straight at him. âWhatâs wrong, baby girl?âÂ
You smile at the name and it warms him. âJustâŚnothing, really. Just donât know what happens now. Like, with us. Or if this is it, orââ
âThis ainât it,â he says, more insistent than he intends. âI wouldnât have done this if I didnât mean to stick around.â
Your whole body melts, like heâs just taken a solid ton off your shoulders, and you lean into him. âReally?â You ask. âI understand if itâs too much or too weird, you know. I know guys donât like it when girls get clingy, so I promise I wonât.â
His heart aches at how earnest you are.Â
âDonât you worry a thing about that, sweetheart. I donât scare so easy,â he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss and nosing your cheek.Â
âAnd you donât think I did anything wrong?â You ask.Â
He frowns. âWhat do you mean?âÂ
âYou donât think Iâm dirty now?âÂ
Joel can tell he needs to phrase his next sentence very, very carefully. âNo, darlinâ. You enjoyed yourself and thereâs nothinâ wrong with that. No matter what youâve been told, all right?â
You nod, not fully convinced, he thinks, but convinced enough. He pulls you in for another kissâhe could distract you from those thoughts, at least. You sigh against his lips, yielding easily to his tongue, and for a while he just kisses you.Â
He shouldâve done this first; shouldâve taken it slow and gotten you used to everything over a period of time, but heâs never claimed to be a selfless man. He lets you explore his mouth and massage his tongue with your own, patient and more than willing to help you figure out what feels good to you. He could do this all day, all week, all monthâhell, if he knew Tommy wouldnât come looking for him heâd just take the next week off and teach you everything youâd ever need to know.Â
You moan into his mouth and his cock twitches with interest, apparently recovered from earlier exertions. He grabs your thigh and pulls, urging you into his lap and smiling against your lips at the gasp you let out when you feel his cock nudging at you.Â
âJoel,â you murmur. âJoel, can we do it again?â
He cups the back of your neck and squeezes softly. âOf course, sweetheart. Need more already?â
âYeah,â you breathe. âIs that okay?â
ââCourse it is, darlinâ. How âbout we try somethinâ different this time?â
You nod vigorously as his hands slide down your body and squeeze your hips. âYes, please. Please, Joel, teach me everything, I wanna know everything.â
Joel shudders underneath you.Â
âSay it again,â he growls, lining his cock up with your messy pussy and bottoming out.
âTeach me,â you gasp. âPlease.â
a/n #2: if i had a nickel for every fic that had someone getting caught fucking a couch i'd only have two nickels but it's weird that it happened twice, right?
can you believe that we have fanfiction. that we have websites dedicated to fanfiction. that there is a place that you can go and read tens, hundreds, thousands and thousands of pieces of writing that strangers have made. people who are not "writers". people who come home at the end of the day and have feelings and say, i am going to put that into words. i am going to share those words. short, long, sweet, sad, horny, funny, wonderful words. we are all just human and we all love to make and remake and share that with others. can you believe that.
Warning(s): Age gap (reader is in their 20's), allusions to mature activities, mild d/s dynamics, fluff, cg!Joel, Daddy kink, begging, making out. I'll be safe and say minors do not interact. Â
Setting: TLOU 2.
He's definitely an experience.Â
Single-handedly rocks your world in more ways than one.Â
So, so laid-back it's fucking sexy.Â
Definitely tames the brat out of you.Â
What he says goes because he's older and knows better.Â
Or?
You live to learn he was right.Â
So smug when that happens.
Not very vocal about his feelings but cares for you so much.Â
The littlest of things that can easily be missed, Joel makes a point of remembering. Â
Won't ever openly admit it though.Â
Tough love in an endearing way.
From your favorite snacks to your preferred clothing, to the kinds of flowers or things you like to collect to getting you food whenever he does for himself and picking out the condiments you dislike to being mindful of the drink you prefer with it, he's got it all covered.Â
A total ass when it comes to training and you best believe he doesn't hold back on it. After everything that's happened, he wants you to be prepared for anything and everything.Â
Only rolls his eyes and shakes his head when you're being the kid that you are with Ellie and Co.Â
Simply snorts when you all tease him for being a geezer.Â
Because he knows that all it takes him is one certain look if it goes too far.Â
And you are whimpering into your place like a puppy yanked by their leash.Â
Besides, you can act all high and mighty as you want, Joel knows that the one who will have you all whiny, grabby and mushy underneath them will be him.
Whenever he wants.Â
You're down so bad for him, oh my God.Â
He knows it, and that's exactly why he doesn't get riled up when foolish little boys try their luck on you.Â
Well, that is, not usually.
Loves to tease you and make you beg after you've acted out all day.Â
"Oh, but I thought I was an old man who 'just didn't get' y'all, huh baby?" And you're a quivering, panting mess with your limbs tangled in his.Â
Great. Fucking. Kisser.
Hot, sloppy, wet, sense melting, passionate kisses while his calloused hands roam all over you, occasionally squeezing the parts that cause you to make such a huge mess in your pants that he tuts when he feels it through your clothes.Â
"Noooo, DaddyâŚ" You're literally aching.Â
"Tell me what you want, baby. Say it for Daddy and he will give it to ya" you are a writhing mess as your hips grind against his and you hump yourself on one of his thighs.Â
"Please, Daddy⌠Need you so bad, Daddy⌠Please use me~" it depends on his mood how he treats you in bed though.Â
Some days he could be the most tender lover with gentle caresses, featherlight touches, cotton-soft pecks and passionate love making.Â
Other days include him pressing your face down into the mattress as his huge cock hammers in and out of your leaking slit, rough bites littering your skin as you struggle to breathe through the animalistic fucking.Â
Nothing gets you to cum harder than when he sometimes wraps his hand around your throat, features stern with all that's taking him not to just obliterate you.Â
Some days though, he likes to combine the two styles.Â
Eats you out like a starved wolf.
But can take his sweet time with that as well.
Lets out the deepest, most throaty grunts when you suck his dick.
Has a couple ways of reprimanding you if you're too clumsy and neglectful with yourself.Â
No one else is allowed to give you any shit though.Â
Isn't overbearingly domineering at all.
He knows you're young and dumb and will need to make some of your own mistakes to learn.
Always there for you with open arms to console you when you do.
Your silly little friend group definitely knows when to make themselves gone when Joel decides that he's had enough of sharing you for the day and wants you all for himself.Â
It's always subtle; like a gentle caress on your shoulder or a soft nudge in your side. Sometimes it can be a claiming hand on your lap. And then everyone knows that it's time to scurry out.Â
Doesn't always play voluntarily.Â
But when he does, it's for you.Â
Especially if there's a storm, or you're extra sensitive from playtime, or just emotional in general. Sometimes he's just feeling affectionate.
Will usually deny it like his life depends on it but there are certain songs, a specific range of lyrics and a peculiar sort of tunes that he plays only for you.Â
Every now and then you crawl into his lap after an intimate session and ask him to teach you how to play a song or two.Â
Then hours pass with you two just huddled into each other, strumming melodies to life as your naked back presses into his strong chest, your ass fitting perfectly in the crook of his abdomen as he rests his chin on your head and revels in your scent.
Sometimes he slowly cockwarms you in that position as well.Â
Cannot sleep without you.Â
He wasn't always like this.
But there's no going back now.Â
Joel is sure to keep tossing and turning until you're locked up close in his arms.Â
Your safety and well-being is his top priority.
Always.Â
.
Playing TLOU again and boy am I needy for this grizzly bear. Also I haven't watched the show but I love Pedro so yeah. Feedback and reblogs are much appreciated <3Â
Passion, established relationships, and coming home.
Bring It On Home - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: Letâs pretend Dean wouldnât be terrified to welcome love into his life.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, established relationship, comfort, fluff, handsy Dean
Words: 1,200
Communion - Dean Winchester x female reader
prompt: Fluffy dean or Jensen smoking weed plz, ty
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, marijuana use
Words: 1K
Drag You To The Shore - Dean Winchester x GN reader
Prompt: Dean Winchester settled in between someoneâs legs on the bed. Like his back to their chest, their legs wrapped around him, heels keeping his thighs open while they jerk him off, explicit but soft vibes.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY
Words: 800
Equilibrium - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: They have balance.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, established relationship, cock warming
Words: 1,400
God Only Knows - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: One weekend, years ago, lives rent-free in both of their minds. Three-part mini-series.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, pining, clothed sex, couch sex, hungover sex, fluff, roomies to lovers, idiots in love
Words:Â 5,500
If We Make It Through December - Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum
Summary: Donna is horrified to learn that the boys have never had a proper Christmas, so she invites them to her house for the holiday.
Warnings/tags: there was no rebar, 18+ ONLY, fluff, light angst, domesticity, holiday celebrations
Words: 12K
Laissez Les Bons Temp Rouler -Â Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: Heâs got a dirty mouth when heâs drunk.Â
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dirty talk, a dirty public bathroom during Mardi Gras
Words: 600
Mind Blown - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: Mind-blowing orgasms can sometimes be literal.
Warnings/tags: mature, transient global amnesia after sex, dirty talk
Words: 560
One For Tomorrow, One Just For Today - Dean Winchester x female reader
Prompt: before leaving on a hunt, Dean sings âLove Me Two Timesâ to his lady.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLT, Dean can actually sing, and he does it during sex
Words: 660
Recompense - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: Dean is sorry for hurting the ones he loves.
Warnings/tags: mature, angst, Dean saying hurtful things then trying to make up for it
Words: 500
Seasons - Dean Winchester x unnamed female character
Summary: She is his safe haven, untouched by anything else or anyone.Â
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, canon divergent - no Cassie or Lisa, non-linear storytelling, four seasons, angst, hurt/comfort, references non-con unprotected sex, loss of a pregnancy
Words: 12K
We Be All Night - Norman Reedus x female reader/you
Summary: The best sex, the most sex, the hottest sex, the raunchiest sex â the sex youâll never forget, is with him.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, rough sex, semi-Public Sex, the jockey is my favorite sexual position, references to bloodplay, biting, sex that makes your neighbors hate you, fuck-you-into-the-floor sex, drunk in love, talking smack with your sex partner, squirting
Words: 2,060
With Pleasured Hands - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: Heâs got secrets she has yet to uncover
After a disastrous blind date you decide to stay away from the miserable Joel Miller forever. The only problem is your best friend Maria is dating his brother and their construction company has been hired to renovate where you work. In an effort to support your friend, youâre thrust into the unwanted job of babysitting Joelâs young daughter one night. As time goes on youâre not expecting to find a confidant in Joel Miller but when you do, you wonder how you ever survived without him.
AU LOU universe with no outbreak. A slow burn slice of life love story with smut.
masterlist | updates blog | ao3 mirror
pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader
summary: [no outbreak] joel is the only guy you know with four wheel drive in the rarely-snowy state of texas, so it seems like a no-brainer to have him pick you up from work â until his truck breaks down, leaving you two to the classic 'huddle for warmth' solution.
warnings: (18+ mdni) dbf!joel, age gap (assumed 20s/40s), reader borrows joel's coat, but does not wear it and uses it as a blanket, self-indulgent humor & banter, joel has sarah and she's a 15y/o menace which means liberties are taken with the timeline, blink & miss it drug mention, close proximity, unprotected piv sex, vaginal fingering, (mocking) dirty talk & dirty talk alluding to anal but no actual anal, daddy kink, degradation, dom!joel, brat!reader, brat tamer!joel, mild bondage (with a scarf), rearview mirror sex, clit stim, riding, doggy, a few pussy spanks, 2 spanks, truck sex, sort of edging, getting caught after the act [no use of y/n]
word count: 12.3k
a/n: this fic was a labor of love from a request i received earlier this month. i didn't expect it to be this long but i really enjoyed these two! massive massive massive shoutout to talia, @lovesickonmybed, for putting up with me + advising. this fic was way too much to handle on my own. they're the reason i pulled it off. joel is latino here, but i think game!joel can be interpreted as latino too, so read who you'd like.
âLooking ahead for our chances at wintry precipitation tonight â measurable snow, freezing rain, or sleet. Itâs hard to get snow here in central Texas â if only, huh? Weâre seeing some strong flurries tonight, turning into snow showers in the early morning. Low chances of any significant build up, but you can expect hazardous driving conditions. Black ice and low visibility will make extensive travel dangerousââ
The radio in Keithâs Hardware is old fashioned, curving around the volume and tuning knobs. Itâs one of the ones that still has a dial pointer, which is almost always aimed at 92.7 if Keithâs in the back (country); 96.7 (pop) if itâs just you and the only other girl that works in the carpenterâs wet dream of a store. Right now, though, itâs neither of those stations. The pointer is at 162.4, the weather station.
Youâd known you were in for it on the drive into work. Watch the weather and itâs real nasty out there airing from your parents lips on your way out of the house for your eight hour shift. The drive had been a gunmetal sort of gray, clouds streaked through the sky and spitting bullets of sleet at your windshield.
For a little bit, the weather had almost cleared up. Youâd sworn youâd seen a splotch of sun when youâd tried to step out for break, just to be driven back in by your too-thin jacket and the cold as balls temperature.
Now, though? Itâs fucking freezing, and the flurries that the weatherman mentioned are starting to fall. And as much as youâd told Keith that your shitty two-wheel-drive couldnât handle it, heâd insisted on scheduling you and Liz for close.
Which is where Mr. Miller comes in.
Joel Miller, your dadâs buddy. Joel Miller, the grumpiest secret-softie youâve ever met. Joel Miller, a knight in shining armor with his 4x4 Ford F150 instead of a horse. Although, if your fantasies are correct â and you like to think they are â whatâs between his thighs certainly makes up for the lack of a horse. But he isnât bringing you for a ride on his cock. He just so happens to be the only man your dad knows with a four wheel drive vehicle, or at least the only one willing to spare you from spinning out by giving you a ride home. Just thinking about it has a knot pinching in the back of your throat. His hands, big and wide and stretching over the gear shift. One muscled arm dangling over the wheel. Looking over his goddamn shoulder to back out â
Liz hops up on the check-out counter where youâre counting up the last of the cash, a spread of Hamiltons, Grants, and Jacksons. You wouldnât expect a girl like her to work at a hardware store, especially one in the backstreets of the seedy part of town. Some sort of family emergency had driven her back to Austin from NYU design school, which youâre thankful for. Mainly because you get out of cutting wood panels since she has the better eye for measurements, but also because after years of sulking in Keithâs, you finally have someone to talk shit with.
âThose heart eyes arenât for fuckinâ Alexander Hamilton,â Liz says, tapping her acrylics on your ledger to get your attention. You cough, flipping her off with your pen still in-hand. Liz hums, pretending to think about it as you put down the last numbers. âAlthough I wouldnât be too surprised. You do love a geriatric man.â
âJoel isnât that old,â you scoff, arranging the bills into slim white envelopes and then licking them shut. âHeâs just an⌠acquired taste.â
âSure, his jizz probably tastes like prohibition-era boozeââ
âWhat the fuck,â you wheeze, hands going out to brace yourself on the closest display case. Your head dips as your chest shakes with laughter.
Liz stays completely straight-faced as she continues, âYouâll have to have 911 on speed dial because if you clench, his heartâs giving out.â
âIt is not,â you say, voice still strained with the laughs that wonât stop punching out of you.
She puts her hands up in defense and crosses her legs at the ankles. âHey, itâs not my fault you like playing whac-a-mole with Great Depression dick.â
âLiz!â You playfully shove her off of the counter, thrusting the envelopes into her hands. âYouâre nasty. Fucking nasty.â
She splays a wounded hand over her heart, fanning herself with the envelopes. âYou know you love me.â She slips into the office behind the register. You hear the click of the safe before she calls over her shoulder, âAny particular reason youâre fantasizing on the clock?â
âNot fantasizing,â you refute. Liz pops out of the back with a uncertain look scrawled on her face. âMy dad talked him into picking me up today so I donât drive into a snowbank.â
âSounds like the beginning of a shitty porno.â
âDonât give me hope.â
âIâm just saying,â she grins. âYou can still come to mine. Only a five minute walk with zero chance of rejection.â
âYou have such little faith in me.â
She purses her lips. âMkayâŚ. Pro-tip: Keith probably has some Viagra sitting around in his desk drawers.â
âLiiiiiiiz,â you say. Youâre about to tune her out completely when familiar headlights light up the wet asphalt, beaming through the windows. The engine idles, a soft rumble through the linoleum floors. The truck lights dim, leaving Joel in the buttery shine of the streetlamp. His thick arms stretch across the wheel, and he rakes one large hand through his hair. âShit, speak of the Devil.â You clip off your nametag, tossing it into your half-open bag. âCan you finish closing tonight? I promise Iâll make it up to you.â
âNo problem, no favors necessary.â She closes the register. You fumble to get your bag over your shoulder, not wanting to keep Joel waiting. âUse protection!â she calls after you, and you make sure to flip her off one more time as the door clangs shut behind you.
A wall of cold hits you like a blade of lightning. Wind unfurls, mauling telephone lines and frosted treetops, rippling your jacket. Not even the worn scarf around your neck seems to be doing its job. Suddenly, every one of your limbs feels like an icicle. Joints almost freezing up, you half-jog, half-penguin strut your way to Joelâs passenger side. You wipe the ice off of the door handle with your sleeve. A few stray flurries dust you as you tug the door open, exhaling in relief as you haul yourself onto the side steps and into the toasty warmth of the Ford F150.
You cozy up in the seat, too preoccupied by thawing your hands with long, winded breaths to notice the affronted look Joel is throwing your way. âAre you tryinâ to catch your fuckinâ death, girl?â
âNo death to catch. Itâs not that cold.â The way youâre shivering says otherwise. Joel pins you with the raise of his brow.
Before you know what heâs doing, heâs groaning as he reaches over the center console into the backseat. You see a flash of his trucker jacket before it lands in your lap, flannel-lined and heavy. You use it like a blanket, draping it across your torso and wrestling your hands into the inside pockets. The canvas smells like car exhaust and off-brand Dollar General deodorant, two things that are so inextricably Joel. As much as you hate to admit it, the warmth is already inking its way across your skin â or maybe itâs just being next to Joel thatâs heating you up. âThanks,â you grumble.
When you adjust in your seat, the inside of your foot catches an empty Dr. Pepper can on the floor. It rattles when you accidentally kick it forward. You lean down and pick it up, going to place it down in the cupholder, only to find it overpopulated with random Home Depot and Whataburger receipts.
âTax deductions,â he shrugs. âGotta eat on the job.â
âAnd aâŚâ You pick up the receipt and squint at the faded typography. â$3.29 strawberry milkshake is part of that, I figure?â
Joel grunts, âTommyâs order.â
You smirk. âSure it is.â
âQuit shit stirrinâ and put on your fuckinâ seatbelt.â
You reach back, fingers snagging it and tugging it down. Groping for the belt between the seats and the center console, it goes on for at least five seconds too long before Joel grabs the buckle and shoves it into the slot. His fingers brush your thigh as he pulls away from you and settles his foot over the gas pedal. The singular touch shouldnât make butterflies beat at the walls of your stomach, but it does. Everything about him does.
Now that youâre all settled in, everything about him is also settling in. The fact that heâs only wearing a tight-fitting white t-shirt now that his coat is off. His sleeves are constricting enough that his muscles bulge below the strip of fabric. Ample scruff dapples his jawline, and his hair is disheveled in the way that youâve learned you like it. You trail your eyes down his body, his tummy, across the undone drawstrings of his dark gray sweatpants, and no, you move on quickly from there, because you refuse to get riled up in the passenger seat.
Heâs slowly peeling out of Keithâs parking lot, arm thrown over the back of your seat. Youâre starting to fail at your mission of not getting riled up when you see the flex of his bicep, the way his eyes meet yours as he turns to look through the back window. He turns out of the parking lot and onto the relatively barren, icy streetsâ
âWhat the hell are those?â
Joel side-eyes you, brows furrowed. He follows the line of your gaze to his feet, which youâre used to seeing in New Balances or steel-toed work boots, but are instead wearing⌠fur-lined crocs.
âThese here? Yeah, got âem recently, good for my days off with all this nippy weather. Sarah told me theyâre âall the rageâ with the youthââ
You canât help it. You damn near double over with laughter, clutching at your stomach. Joelâs coat nearly slides off of you, but you hang onto it with your pinkie finger, quickly going dizzy from lack of air. ââAll the rageâ? Oh my fucking Godâ Joel, she was pulling your leg. Those are fucking hideous.â
âHey, nowââ He sighs, pinching his nose bridge with the hand that isnât dangling over the wheel. âZip it, I donât needa justify my shoe choices to ya.â
âDoes she do anything other than give you shit these days?â
âYouâre one to talk about givinâ shit, yâknow,â Joel says. Unfailingly, he smiles. The smile that pulls at the edges of his lips. The smile that he only ever gets when talking about Sarah. It doesnât matter where â loading up his plate with barbecue, your dad asking him while heâs picking up junk mail in the morning, or on the job. If someone asks him about his daughter, Joel fucking beams.
He sucks on his teeth for a second, and then, âSheâs picked up soccer. Goalkeeper. Damn good at it, too, all them other kids on her team canât match her collapse dive.â
âOf course they canât,â you say. âSheâs got better reflexes than a house fly.â
Joel hunches over the wheel, effectively ending the conversation as he concentrates on the road. The only noise is the rumbling engine and the wagging of the windshield wipers as he attempts to navigate the black ice polka-dotted roads. It shouldnât be as arousing as it is, seeing him in such a state of focus, his thighs tensed as he manipulates the gas and brakes to stop early, start slow. His arms thickening when he makes a right turn. Thumbs drumming drumming drumming on the wheel and maybe theyâd do the same between your legsâ
âSo howâs work?â you blurt out.
Joel mumbles something that you canât quite make out.
âHuh?â
âFuckinâ âbig shotâ gringos up my ass all day. Goddamn shitshow.â He shakes his head, his lips thinned. âI tell âem terraforming is gonna make it look like a Flinstone-owned-and-operated putt-putt course. They say do it anyway. I tell âem that orderinâ custom windows is gonna put us months behind. They say do it anyway, then come up jibber-jabberinâ all âbout how long itâs takinâ. And itâs fuckinâ... window madness, not one window in that hellhole matches another. Ainât had so much trouble buildinâ a house since Sarah had me build her one from Hobby Lobby when she was little. Their architect musta been doinâ lines.â
You think youâve seen Sarahâs dollhouse before when visiting, just in passing when the guest bedroom door was left open a smidge. You remember stalling in the hallway to look at it, with a fleece of dust growing on the tediously placed shingles and the oakwood front door left open like itâd been waiting for someone to come home. But Sarah outgrew it, and although Joel would never admit it, you know heâs too sentimental to leave it on the curb.
âHow bad can building a dollhouse from a kit be?â
âWith a five year old yellinâ like a drill sergeant in your ear? Worse than you think. She even made me rig the damn thing with electric so she could have her pink chandelier.â
You pout at him, âWah wah, Iâll bet you loved it.â
âWas a nuisance at the time. But, uh, she was fiddlinâ with some âa the dolls Iâd gotten her. Donât think she knew I was watchinâ, had gone to put âer to bed âcause it was a school night. She was readinâ this book I always read to her. Something about⌠a stuffed bear with a missinâ button and a girl that was tryna to buy him. I donât fuckinâ knowââ
âCorduroy?â
âYeah, that. Anyway, she was reading, usinâ the same tone I always used with her, tucked her dolls in for the night, and switched off the lights. I donât think I loved it until then.â Thereâs a glistening in his eyes at the memory.
You smirk, âSentimental bastardââ
The truck slides. Or maybe it coasts, skimming across the thin film of black ice. Joel eases down on the brakes, hauling to a stop next to a Minivan with its warning lights on. Itâs a long stretch, and you canât even see all the way down the highway with how thick the snow is. No two snowflakes are the same, but you find it difficult to believe when youâre looking at what must be millions of them. They pirouette, landing on window panes, rooftops, and wind-agonized tree branches. Everything is blotted with white. Red warning lights glare on the ice back at you.
âShiiit,â Joel says as he squints at the road ahead of him. He scratches at his scruff.
âTell me youâre not going to drive through that shit.â
âIâm not,â he says.
âThen how the fuck are we getting home?â
âChill itââ
âThatâs the last thing I need to do,â you huff.
âIâm takinâ the detour.â
With that, he jerks the wheel â a bit too recklessly considering the weather, in your opinion â and pulls off onto a slippery backroad. The snow seems to have clung to the trees more back here, a sort of incandescent saran wrap over the oaks. At a bend in the road, icicles hang from a yellow sign that says CURVE 30 MPH. Joel takes it at ten.
Youâre not checking out his hands while he drives, no, of course not. Youâre looking at the gazillion lights on his dashboard display. âYou usually have that many lights on?â
âAinât your truck, ainât your business.â
âIâm ridinâ in it, ainât I?â you mock his accent.Â
Joel sighs heavily. âDrivinâ me up the fuckinâ wall.â His hands clench briefly around the wheel. âAuto repair shopâs been price gouging, Iâm tryinâ to get Tommy to hook me up with his buddy in San Antonââ
âWonât be able to drive to San Antonio if your bumper falls off halfway there.â
Joelâs voice is dry as bone. âHa ha. You get off on beinâ a smartass?â
Itâs three words â thatâs all it is. Just a throwaway phrase that he probably doesnât even realize he said. If it were anything more, youâd know. But Joel, saying those words in that order? Damn him, because it turns your blood effervescent. You stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together underneath his coat. Youâre about to make another quip thatâll not only distract you, but also surely drive Joel up the wall, one of your favorite activities.
His truck putters from ten miles per hour to eight.
Eight to six.
Six to four.
âMotherfuckinâ.... shit,â Joel says again, this time much more urgent as he wrests the wheel to the side. The truck skims over the frosted roads and onto the shoulder, rolls for two seconds, and then falls to a complete, utter stop. The windshield wipers pause while theyâre still up. Heat no longer spits out of the dusty air vents.
Itâs the loudest silence youâve ever been in.
â...So do you get off on letting your truck break down orââ
Joel sighs in the way that dogs do. âThin ice, missy.â He unbuckles his seatbelt and pulls out his phone. âIâll give Tommy a call.â He stares at the screen for ten seconds. Taps it. Shakes it.
âNo service?â you ask.
âNo service.â
âLet me try mine,â you mumble, shifting in the car seat. Sure enough, zero bars. Even though you know it wonât work, you press your dadâs contact. It goes straight to voicemail. âWell, shit.â
âShit,â Joel echoes.
Itâs unspoken, but you both know the harsh reality of this harsh wintry night: no phone service, no operational truck, and⌠no heater.
âHang tight,â Joel says, reaching over the center console and hijacking his coat from your lap. He wrestles his arms through the sleeves and zips it up. He shoves the door open against the hoarse wind that keeps the trees at a slant, hops out, then slams it shut hard enough for the vehicle to rock. From how hard the wind was blowing, stray flurries dust the truckâs interior.
You canât really see what heâs doing â the snowâs too heavy, the hood popped wide open for him to investigate the truckâs viscera. You run your hands up and down your thighs, already feeling cold. Without the heater, it wonât be much longer before you turn to an icicle in the passenger seat. The hood bangs back down.
Joel climbs in from the backseat, slams the door as hard as humanly possible, and then scoots to the middle seat.Â
You crane your neck to see him as he shakes out his cold-reddened hands before puffing air into his cupped palms. âWhatâs wrong with it?â You ask.Â
He lets out a frigid breath. âDonât fuckinâ know, snowinâ too damn hard to tell.â
âTen bucks it was one of the lights on your dash,â you say.
Joel glares at you, still huffing into his hands. His fingertips are bright red to match his ruddy cheeks. Snow is sprinkled through his hair like soot, quickly melting to beads of water on his windblown curls.
âGot some⌠hand warmers up in that glovebox. Grab the whole pack.â
You lean forward, kneeing it open and rifling through all of his shit. Insurance papers, more receipts, Miller Contracting business cards, a folded pocket knife, lens wipes, and â
âWhenâs the last time these saw daylight?â you huff out a laugh as you hold up a battered box of condoms.Â
Turns out, snow isnât the thing that makes Joel Miller redder than a tomato. Itâs the fifteen year old, very expired condoms hiding in his glovebox.
He clears his throat and averts his eyes. âJesus. Forgot those were in there.â
You shake the box around and pluck a condom out of it. Looking for the expiration date, you turn it over and over in your hand. âAugust 31st, 2004. Really that long since you got some, Miller?â
âPut âem back,â he grumbles. âPain in my ass.â
You snicker, replacing the condom box with the box of hand warmers. Theyâre unopened, still sealed. You snatch Joelâs keys out of the ignition and swipe them across the tape. âHappy?â you toss them over your shoulder.
âNo.â He tears open the pack and rubs his hands together around the warmer, sighing when it begins to heat.
âDick,â you grumble.
More tearing. âBrat.â Another warmer lands in your lap.
âOughta get comfortable. Weâre gonna be here a while,â Joel says.
âAnd whose fault is that?â You ask as you weigh the warmer in your palms. The front seat already feels cramped, and youâre quick to unbuckle your seatbelt. Your legs and arms fold like pretzels as you climb into the backseat. The curse that leaves you when you hit your head on the roof has Joel rolling his eyes.
âPipe down. First thing in the morninâ Iâll make the walk out to that country club a mile out and use their phone. Just gotta ride out the night. You ainât ever roughed it before?â
You fall on all fours on the backseat, finally pulling yourself upright next to him. âNever had a reason to. Like, what if I have to piss? What if I get hungry?â
Joel shrugs. âTough.â
The cold is starting to settle into your bones. Even your tongue feels popsicle numb, and your fingers are stiff where they wrap around the warmer. Itâs like youâve been trapped in a snowglobe and shaken up by a handsy toddler with how the wind rattles the truck and the snow swishes outside. You suppress a shiver, leaning against the door. Condensation is already building on the windows. Absent-mindedly, you begin to trace a portrait of Joel in the moisture. Your fingertip squeaks against the glass. Your masterpiece wouldnât be complete without his signature scowl, so youâre sure to paint a frown on his face and his forehead wrinkles on thick.
âDidnât know you were an artist,â Joel comments from the opposite side of the back. âLooks nothinâ like me, by the way.â
You smirk, âBut you knew it was you.â
Because thereâs nothing better to do than burn time, you spend the next ten minutes filling up the window with whatever nonsense doodles come to mind â hearts, stars, trees, and of course, the only one that Joel seems to be fond of: Sarah, smiling and curly-haired.
Reality only settles in when youâre done with the ephemeral illustrations, their outlines starting to dissolve back to regular droplets that streak down the windows. Youâre stuck, for God knows how long, on this shady backroad that the Zodiac Killer wouldâve loved during his heyday. With your dadâs best friend that youâve been harboring a dangerous crush on.
And itâd be impossible to forget that itâs freezing fucking balls.
âJoel?â you say into the dark truck.
âHm?â
Always one to speak your mind, you say, âItâs freezing fucking balls.â
A sound that might be a laugh leaves him. âHere,â Joel says, unzipping his jacket. He tosses it over to you, and you snuggle back up with it, nose burrowing into one of the creases in the fabric. His coat smells like him â like cheap body wash, chewing gum, and gasoline.Â
You try putting your hands in the pockets, even going as far as to open up a new hand warmer for each one, but theyâre full of loose change and, expectedly, more receipts. When you curl up against the corner between the door and the seat, the hard plastic bites into your oversensitive back. Sitting upright or cross-legged doesnât work, and when you test drive sitting diagonally with your feet propped up on the console, Joel makes a disproving noise and swats gently at your shin. You prop your forehead up against the window, but itâs cold enough to give you a brain freeze.Â
âJesus Christ,â Joel snorts. âGet over âere, you wuss.â He hauls you over, big hand splayed over your waist, and drags you across the bench to his side. You yelp in surprise, but only for a second before youâre crushed against Joelâs side. âCanât have ya gettinâ hypothermia,â he jests.
You donât know where to put your hands, but eventually, you settle on cupping his neck. Touching Joel, hell, even just being near him, is like being by an open furnace. Or maybe the heat is just your stomach doing somersaults at being this close to Joel after years of frivolous pining. His nape emanates warmth, the kind that flows down your arms and wraps comfortingly around your chest.
Joel exhales, the tendrils of his breath curling from the frigidity. He grabs his coat from the side and flattens it over the both of you, a piss poor replacement for a blanket, but all youâve got.
Still, cold seeps in through the cracks in the doors, spoiling whatever lukewarm air remains. It doesnât help that Joel had hopped in and out of the truck to play eye spy under the hood. The truck struggles to hold onto heat properly, especially when it isnât producing more of it.
Joel sort of⌠flickers against your back. You think nothing of it until it happens again, this time in short bursts, and then turns into full on shivering.
âWhoâs the wuss now, old man?â
Joel tenses up behind you. âFunny,â he says. With your hands cushioned against his neck, you feel the grate of his voice in his throat. âThis is the best youâre gonna get unless you wanna be butt ass naked to share heat.â
It should be a joke. But the way he says it⌠doesnât sound like a joke.
You go still, lifeless, not even sure if youâre shaking anymore. Because now, the only thought in your head is being pressed against Joel, his soft cock hardening against you, his palms splayed and rubbing over your stomach to keep you warm. And if his cock needed to get somewhere warmer, tooâŚ. Your clit twitches at the thought.
You smother the initial shock in your voice with your usual solution: sass. âSo what, weâre gonna fuckinâ huddle for warmth?â
As much as you enjoy the idea, you're already dripping â and thatâs just from your body being pressed against his, breathing the same air as him, closer now than youâve ever been before. With no panties in the way, itâs not a stretch to say youâd be dripping down his thighs. Youâd hate to have that conversation.
âWould you rather freeze to death?â Joel asks. You look up at him from where youâre curled into his side and find no gleam in his eyes. This isnât just some knee-slapper for him. Joel Miller is being completely, irreversibly serious.
âIâd rather something less like Naked and Afraid, Joel!â
âIt works,â he says, nose flaring. âThey do it in those fuckinâ... action movies all âa the time.â
âI didnât know Hollywood was writing survival manuals for pervsââ
âGod, youâre a piece âa work, ya know that?â His eyes flick down to you, and maybe itâs just the fact that this road is damn near pitch black, but his pupils seem larger than before. âListen, I ainât tryna perv on ya. I also ainât tryna send you back to your old man with four fingers missinâ from frostbite.â
Thereâs no way youâre actually seriously considering this. Youâve heard of cold temperatures impairing thinking, but not like this. Your dadâll go chasing after Joel with a pitchfork and a shovel if he finds out the man who was supposed to get you home safe and sound was cuddling naked with you. Cuddling naked with you in the backseat, no less. Youâre certain Joel wonât try anything â heâs not like that. No matter how flustered you get in his lap, heâd never take advantage of you. What you arenât certain of is your ability to stop yourself from asking him t0 take advantage of you.
This is practical. Itâs only supposed to be practical. He wouldnât be suggesting something this drastic if you both werenât shaking like a rattlesnakeâs rattler.
âFine,â you say, already unwinding your scarf from around your neck. Determined to keep some semblance of boundaries up, you add, âNo peeping, Miller.â
Joel makes an exasperated sound as you once again scoot out from his coat and across the bench, working yourself out of your shoes, your cotton zip-up, and then the stiff Keithâs uniform â a blue polo and jeans. Joelâs eyes are respectfully trained on the truckâs floor mats, which youâre only just now noticing has a sun-bleached Lisa Frank sticker tacked onto it.Â
Down to your bra and panties, your heart rate picks up. Your fingers are so fucking cold that itâs hard to get your bra straps out of the way so you can unclasp the damned thing, and then it falls to the floor. Your nipples harden in the face of the cold. The only thing you keep is your scarf, which do you do your best to cover your tits with. Scooping up your discarded clothes and tossing them to the front seat, you let out a shaky breath.
Fuck it.
You shimmy out of your panties and get rid of them just as quickly. When you try telling Joel youâre decent, or rather indecent, nothing comes out. Instead, you have to clear your throat with a strained, âAll good.â
âAlright,â Joel says, rustling around. You hear his crocs scrape against the mat, and then his shirt swishing over his head.
He doesnât tell you to look away, but since itâs implied, you look out of the window. The snowy trees tremble in the wind, and you almost wince when you see a small sliver of his tanned skin reflected in the glass. His crocs clunk on the ground when he kicks them off, and you watch his criminally tight t-shirt go flying over the passenger seat. You casually grip the Jesus handle, hoping that Joel doesnât notice your fist tightening around it when you hear him untying the drawstrings of his sweatpants. When his sweats and boxers follow the path of his shirt, breathing gets a lot harder than you remember it being.
Just an hour ago, youâd been certain that this would be nothing more than a ten minute drive. Maybe, if you were lucky, heâd call you a casual pet name that would fuel the wriggling of your hand between your thighs that night.Â
The tension in the air is thicker than molasses. Each breath you take is fragile.
âIâm ready when you are,â Joel says.
Since youâre already half-naked, and since chickening out is out of the question, you inch over to Joelâs side. The air tumbles out of your lungs in one fell swoop when your bicep meets his. With some fidgeting, you bring your legs up at an angle beneath you, wrapping around his side in a way that has you feeling a little bit like a koala. You talk yourself into keeping your eyes forward and then scrub your palms across your freezing arms.
Joel, more indifferent than you think anyone else in this situation could be, abruptly casts his coat back over the both of you.
And, fuck him, heâd been right. The engulfing canvas of his coat keeps warmth trapped where it can be passed easily between the two of you. Or maybe itâs just being confined and skin-to-skin with Joel that has you heating up.
The silence is cruel â itâs much harder to make conversation about work or dollhouses or whatever the hell else when youâre naked. Only the windâs sibilance keeps you company.
You can get used to this, you think. Drift off into a somewhat sound sleep with your head on Joelâs shoulder and hope that you donât drool all over him or moan his name in your sleep. More embarrassing things have happened to you.
But then, as if youâre the unluckiest person alive, the temperature drops even more, and suddenly, youâre shaking like a leaf all over again. Your teeth almost clack together as you try to stammer out to Joel, âCâcold, Jesus fucking⌠Christ thatâs cold.â
Joel pouts down at you, but you donât miss the way his lip quivers. âShould I call the wambulance?â
âShould I call the rârârâretirement home to piâŚpick up a ruârunaway resident?â It sounded a lot better in your head than bouncing off of your frozen tongue, you have to admit.
âDrama queen,â Joel mutters into your ear. âCanât do anythinâ more about it. Sorryââ
âCan I sit on your lap?â you blurt out so quickly that you donât even have time to think about it. You grimace, partially covering your face with your hands. Shit.
Joelâs eyes widen. âExcuse me?â
Youâre already half doomed. Why not go all the way? âListen, itâs just fucking⌠fucking freezing, Joel. Holy shit.â
âThat bad?â he chokes out.
âYouâd be warmer than the seats,â you defend. âIâll be careful, I promise. Best behavior.â
Joel seems to ponder it for a moment, brows stitched together while he looks down at you from where youâre furled up against his side. He gnaws on the inside of his cheek before giving you a slight nod. âAlright.â You nod in return, heart in your throat. ââBut you better mean it when you say best behavior. Canât have any âa this shit gettinâ back to your dad.â
Another nod. You hold your breath as you shinny your way onto Joelâs lap, mounting him from the front so his chest hits your back. In your attempt to get comfortable, you bracket your legs around his. His soft cock fits at the small of your back, and even though heâs as flaccid as can be, heâs big. Apparently your imagination isnât too far off. Joelâs sharp intake of breath forms a pit in your stomach, and you know when youâre warming up for an entirely different reason than close proximity, you also know that you need to calm yourself down. Fast.
Think of something awful. Like that time that you had to dissect cow eyes in sophomore year biology. Think about mold. How many murderers youâll walk by in your lifetime. Expired leftovers. Anythingâ
You adjust yourself in an attempt to get away from Joelâs cock. Instead, your hips move just so his cock slips between your thighs and bobs against your slit.
You whine.
Your body immediately locks up once you realize what youâve done. Crawling out of the truck to die a hypothermia-induced death seems like a much kinder fate than facing Joel, but no matter how much you scream at yourself to reach out and unlock the door, your hands refuse to move. You hadnât noticed how wet youâd gotten, and you have no idea how. Itâs smeared across your thighs, and now pressed up against your back after Joelâs dick had dragged through it all.
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shitâ
Chancing a look over your shoulder, youâre surprised to find the tips of Joelâs ears flushed, cheeks cherry ripe. His Adamâs apple bobs when you meet his eyes. Holy fuck.
Youâve flustered him.
For some reason, the thought makes your chest a lot lighter. You look away nonetheless, but this time, with a newfound gleam in your eye. Thereâs no such thing as a bad accident, right?
Maybe Liz was right about having to call 911, because when you âaccidentallyâ repeat the movement, Joel stops breathing all together. His cock, almost hard now, youâve noticed, bumps against your clit. You almost swallow your tongue trying to keep your moan down.
âThe fuck you think youâre doinâ?â he asks, his gruff voice scratching at your ears.
âI didnât mean to,â you lie straight through your teeth, a smug little grin spreading on your face. Something about his semi-hard cock between your bodies tells you heâs going to say no to your next suggestion. âMaybe you should put the coat between us, insteaââ
âAre you outta your fuckinâ mind, girl?â Joelâs voice comes out raspy. He shakes his head, clears his throat. The vibrations rumble up your spine. âAnd take away the whole point of stayinâ warm? Now quit it. Ainât that hard to sit still.â
You try your hand at listening â for all of two seconds.
You hike your hips up, fumbling with his coat as you slot his cock against your slit once more, pushing yourself forward. The coat slides right off of you, falling in a dark lump on the floor. Neither of you care â youâre both too heated for the lack of cover to make a damn difference. Joel hisses, a sound like water hitting an open flame. His hands fly down to your waist, anchoring you to his lap. A surprised noise squeaks out of you.
âWhat, you got rocks rattlinâ around in your brain?â Joel scowls. âYouâre real impolite for a cocktease, sweetheart.â
Butterflies flap around in your stomach from his words. Itâs enough to make your head tip against his chest so you can look up at him, lips shaped in a perfect pout. âIâm not,â you say.
âNot a cocktease, huh? Not even when youâre rubbinâ all over my lap?â
You gasp as your hands fly down to cover Joelâs, nails etching into where his fingers meet your bare skin. You tug at his wrist, trying desperately to guide him where you so desperately need him.
âNot happeninâ,â Joel grunts, yanking your hands behind you and pinning them to your waist like youâre nothing more than a poseable doll. His large, work-worn hands make yours look damn near miniature as he holds you down. The sudden roughness douses your inner thighs with a new wave of wetness. âJesus, girl. Poor thing, gettinâ all hot and bothered. Donât blame ya for tryna get me to help out. Can feel ya dripping down my legs, gushinâ like a sprinkler.â
âSâsorry, fuck, âm sorry,â you whisper, words sticky with your arousal. Your clit twitches from his words, embarrassment and need doing all the work to keep you warm.
âNahhh,â he says. âI donât think you are, baby.â Maybe itâs the condescension heâs purring in your ear, maybe itâs the pet name; most likely, itâs a combination of both that has you convulsing in his lap. Itâs like heâs found all of the right buttons to press to get you riled up, getting you back for all of your snide comments earlier.Â
His fingers find the fabric of your scarf, luring it off of your neck so he can cord it around your wrists. You squirm when you realize what heâs doing, and a breathless huff of his laughter brushes your cheek. âIâll be damned if you ainât gonna be, though.â He draws it tight, tight enough for you to feel your pulses bumping into each other. Joel leaves a fair amount of your unreasonably long scarf loose.
âJoel, what the fuck are you up to?â
âTeachinâ you some sweet southern belle etiquette, darlinâ. Such a goddamn troublemaker, grindinâ on me like Iâm some kinda⌠frat boy.â He shakes his head, disbelieving. âPullinâ that shit with your popsâ friend. Real fuckinâ classy.â
âLike youâre so different. Whoâs the one thatâs tying me up? Huh, Milââ
You hear the hit well before you feel it, a firm whack to your cunt that makes your vision blacken and electricity scurrying up your spine. It takes you a second to come back to yourself before a ragged cry pulls its way out of your lips. You jolt in his lap, bound arms bobbing in front of you as your body instinctively lurches for control. You damn near kick your feet, accidentally ricocheting yourself into Joelâs chest. His forearms hold you there.Â
âGuess Iâll make it crystal clear for ya, baby, since that dumb lilâ head âa yours is havinâ some trouble. My truck, my rules. Youâre ridinâ in it, ainât you?â You nod reluctantly as he turns your words from earlier in his favor. âThat was a warninâ, you showoff. Think you can bat your slutty âfuck meâ eyes anâ get away with murder.â He fucking tsks at you.
He pulls his hand away from your pussy, and youâre both surprised and not surprised at all to see it covered in your arousal, webbed between his calloused fingers.Â
âGot a whole goddamn slip ân slide down hereâŚâ murmurs Joel. You whine, bucking your hips against him. âOughta justâŚâ he starts, nudging his cock towards your hole. The noise you make is pathetic. âStop ya from ruininâ my seats. Cork you right up.â You tense up, fully expecting the intrusion, but his dick passes your cunt right up, instead sliding up to meet your clit. It taps against your swollen nub, and if his goal was to stop you from ruining his seats, youâre certain heâs already failed with how quickly you gush all over the upholstery.
âBut thatâd be real nice, wouldnât it? Givinâ ya what ya want so early onâŚâ Instead of pulling away like you expect, Joel griiiinds the head of his cock against your clit. You moan helplessly, head falling back across his shoulder.
And then he does it again.
And again.
And agaiâ
âJoooooel,â you whine, knees jerking each time his tip meets your most sensitive spot. Heat spins in your stomach.
He backs his hips up âWhat? Thought you loved this with how much you were gettinâ at it earlier.â
You shake your head rapidly in the negative, chest rising and falling at a breakneck pace while he teases you.
âSo you can deal, but you canât play?â
âI think youâre just taking your sweet old time getting it up, old man,â you grit out, knowing damn well heâs stiffer than titanium behind you.
Joel hums. âAh, sheâs got jokes.â His cock slips back, quickly replaced by his hand engulfing your mound. Your clit twitches ever so slightly against his palm lines, and youâre almost convinced you could get off from that alone. His palm cracks against your cunt again, somehow even harder than the first time. You cry out, eyes burning from arousal and the slightest edge of pain.
With his thumbpad, he taps your clit like heâs just scrolling through the cable guide with a remote. Fleeting movements that have you wanting more more more. It heals the sting of his slap even if the echo of the hit still simmers in your stomach. Your cunt throbs so hard that it hurts, jumping up to meet Joelâs scarce ministrations.
When he retracts his hand, your hips chase the movement. âSee this?â he taunts, fluttering his wet fingers in front of your face. You make a choked noise when his drenched middle finger breaches your lips. He doesnât even need to tell you; you latch on and suck yourself off of his calloused skin. Youâre mostly salty, but a little sweet, and tasting yourself on your own tongue by his insistence manages to make you even wetter.
Joel takes his spare fingers, just as soaked, and smears them all around your chin and lower cheeks. He presses down on your tongue as he does. You gag from the pressure, and you canât hear his laugh over the roaring of your blood in your ears, but you feel it rattle his chest where it meets your spine. Your slick cools quickly against your burning skin, syrupy as it clings to your face. âNeed a bib, baby?â
He pulls his finger from your mouth with a pop and your scarf-wrapped hands spring to wipe yourself from your lips, hoping to save yourself from the humiliation of having your own pussy juice anointing your face. You only scoop up a little before Joel lowers his forearm over yours, but for once, youâre faster than him. You swipe your wet hand over his mouth, smudging as much as you can along the scruff surrounding his mouth.
He wraps a burly hand in the scarf and yanks your hands back into place. All you can do in response is giggle, but the breath is swiftly knocked out of you when he drives his cock right into your clit. âThink youâre funny, donât ya?â He asks, and finally grunts as he rolls his hip into you. A break in his resolve, a sign that he wants this, or at least the discipline of this, as badly as you do.
You almost weep from the pressure, that rope of pleasure in your stomach that he keeps knotting tighter and tighter and tighter with each stroke of his cock, his fingers. âJoel!â you cry out as he follows it up with another firm swat to your clit. His cock spreads your folds as he softens the bashing, nuzzling his tip against your spasming cunt.
âReally, oughta give standup a go one âa these days. Be a real hotshot.â
âOh yeah?â you pant, light headed and woozy.
âMhm. If the whole crowdâs drunk.â His cock nudges your nub with a new vigor.
âAsshââ
Right as youâre about to press down and follow the sensation, Joel senses it. His cock gives way through your cheeks, just in time for him to land a ruthless slap across your pussy. Itâs harder than the others â makes your ears ring for a second, gives you a sort of visual snow that has you doubling over and gripping at the closest object for purchase, which just so happens to be the metal rods coming out of the headrest.Â
âAinât what you should be sayinâ if youâre planninâ on gettinâ what you want, sugar,â Joel tuts. He shakes his head at you. âDonât wanna hear no lip from ya, girl.â
You open your mouth, argument on the tip of your drool-loaded tongue, but your halfhearted attempt at defiance doesnât last long. Joelâs hand clamps around your chin, denting your skin into your teeth. He jerks your head to face him, knocking you down a peg with scathing eye contact. âYouâre pushinâ it.â He loosens his grip.
âAs if, Miller. If those pre-Cold War condoms are anything to go by, youâve been dying for a chance to get your dick wet. Doesnât matter how much lip I give you, you arenât gonna blue ball yourself for much longer.â Satisfied, you raise your brows at him.
Turns out, he is going to blue ball himself for much longer, because he lands six slaps in rapid succession across your sopping cunt. The skin smarts, and you cry out. Your grip tightens around the headrest rod to the point of strangling it. Your eyes water, and you canât tell if youâre crying. Too consumed by Joel, everything has melted into him â the smell of sawdust perpetually sewn into his skin, his cock sealed against your body.
âHow many times are ya gonna poke the bear before you learn your lesson, you cheeky little shit?â Joelâs palm cups the inside of your right thigh, just above the knee. He traces circles with his thumb, and heat trails after him with everywhere he touches. âSee, the thing about havinâ âpre-Cold War condomsâ is that Iâve had a helluva lot more time to learn self control than you. Can wait as loooooong as it takes for you to get your head on right. Donât matter if youâre waterfallinâ down my seats or not, pretty girl. Iâm giving you exactly what ya deserve.â
You whimper, trying (and failing) to get your magma hot core closer to Joelâs unfairly large hand, still splayed out on your inner thigh. You canât stop how you squirm in his lap, smearing your arousal everywhere with each movement you make.
At a snailâs pace, his hand begins to inch up your leg. Joel pauses to grope at you as his hand travels upward. Handfuls of your skin, rubbing at your scalding hot thighs. Your patience is wearing thin by the time he gets midway there. You need him to touch you. And thatâs just the tip of this impossibly destructive iceberg.
You shouldnât be doing this, shouldnât have let him go down this shitty backroad, shouldnât have agreed to your dadâs ridiculous idea of Joel picking you up, shouldnât have asked to be naked on his lap, shouldnât have gotten naked on his lap, shouldnât be leaking like a twenty-year-old pipe in a building heâd been hired to renovate. If your dad ever finds outâ
âJoel, please, please â pleaâŚâ you trail off, dissolving into incoherent whimpers as his hand hovers over your cunt. Youâre running hotter than a radiator now, and if you both wanted to be warm, then youâve got your wish. Although mostly gibberish, Joel has to understand what you want from him. Itâs just that the bastard is unwilling to provide.
Joel reaches down to pinch your clit, and your body canât even discern from pleasure and pain anymore. You react the same to it all, back arching as you try desperately to plant yourself on his cock. âShhh, shhh, quit runninâ your filthy mouth. Only gonna get yourself into more trouble.â
You swear you hear angels singing, swear you see the pearly gates when he gives your clit a merciful rub. Melting into him, you exhale shakily.
âSee? All nice ân quiet when sheâs gettinâ what she wants.â You wouldnât even dream of mouthing off to him now.
âI want â I needâŚâ you gasp out, putty in his hands. Moldable to his liking. Everything youâd pretended not to want.
âGo on,â he coos. âTell daddy what you need.â
You donât even hear him say that word. Youâre too hooked on begging, begging, begging. âPlease â Joel, oh god, please â I need⌠I need⌠please please please, fuck, it hurtsââ
Joel clicks his tongue. âNuh uh. Start over. Always such a chatterbox âcept for when I need ya to be.â
âWhaâŚ?â you ask, admittedly dazed from the harsh treatment that youâve come to crave more of.
âTell daddy what you need,â he repeats, words molasses slow.
You clench, gushing even more all over him. Shit, your next paycheck might have to go to replacing the goddamn seats if you keep up like this.
âDâD⌠D-â you start stammering out, but youâve lost autonomy over your body long ago, and apparently that goes for your tongue, too. âDaâ Da⌠plââ
âAny day now,â he scoffs.
âDaddy!â you spit out all at once. âPlease, please, daddy, fuck â fuck me, daddy, please, I want your cock, daddy. Feels so fucking big. Need it daddy, it hurts⌠please, nghâ daddy!â Tears are burning the corners of your eyes, fueled almost entirely by arousal and partially by frustration. You squirm, cunt crying all over the place.Â
âMâkay, baby,â he says. Running a hand down your chest and squeezing your nipple on the way down. He slides his hand down your stomach to cup your mound, giving your clit slow, gentle circles. Your hips jump forward, and this time, he doesnât stop you. âDaddyâs got ya.â
At the first intrusion of his middle finger in your cunt, you jump. Itâs a lot compared to what heâs been giving you, but nowhere near enough. A second finger slips inside. He doesnât have to do much work to stretch you out â youâve been seeping out of you since you first got on his lap. Heâs all too quick thrusting them in and out of you â the messy squelch of your pussy filling the backseat has you burying your chin against your chest, averting your eyes. The heel of his palm bumps persistently at your clit with each shift of his fingers inside of you.
âI know you ainât a virgin, but youâre soakinâ like one. Too damn cocksure to ainât have had a cock in ya before. Prancinâ around like a glorified dick trap.â You inhale sharply when his fingers scrape that spongy spot inside of you that you can never reach yourself. A moan rips out of you. The combination of him talking down to you and rubbing your g-spot has you dangerously close to cumming. Your moan is quickly swallowed up by more of Joelâs condescension.Â
He starts mumbling to himself then, obscenities that make you clench even tighter around his fingers. âGonna get you all sore baby, make you regret begginâ for this dick like a horny âlil bitch that ainât ever been laid in her life. Fuck you so hard youâll be cryinâ for daddyâs cock up your ass instead, turn you into an anal slut, too.â Heâs too busy listening to himself talk, too absorbed in his own world to feel you balancing on that razor-thin edge.
The noise you make is inhuman. You pulse around him, doing your best to stave off your impending release. âDaddyââ you warn, but he cuts you off then, too. Joel grinds his cock between your ass cheeks, his precum dripping down your slit to meet your trembling cunt.Â
âEver been fucked here before baby?â He swipes his tip along your asshole, and the way you shudder is answer enough for him. âDonât get all jumpy, sweetheart. Ainât gonna fuck ya there right now. Be cruisinâ for a bruisinâ.â Still, he replaces his tip with his free handâs thumb, simply rubbing at the ring of muscle. You fidget in his lap without an end-goal. You just want to be close to him, want to take everything heâs willing to give you. His fingers hook just right inside of you. âWould love to be the first to unlock this pretty backdoor. If this tight âlil pussyâs anything to go by⌠Christ. Youâd look so pretty squirmin with my cock in your ass, babyââ
âDaddy!â You scream as your orgasm guts you. His fingers and his voice rip your climax right out of you and your cum streams down your inner thighs and Joelâs hand, still smacking against your clit with each thrust. Your cunt spasms around his flexing fingers. He has to fold an arm over your chest to keep you from sliding off his slippery lap entirely.
All the way through the aftershocks that make your limbs quake, Joel holds you upright against his body, still bumping his palm and fingertips against your clit and g-spot. You swear you can feel him smiling against your shoulder.
âDidnât tell ya you could cum, darlinâ,â Joel murmurs, flicking his cum covered finger across your clit. You wince in overstimulation, a whine catching in your throat.
ââM sorry, daddy,â you pant. His hands go up toÂ
ââS okay, babygirl. Pretty pussy couldnât help it when I was talkinâ âbout fuckinâ your ass, huh?â His hands rove up your stomach to play with your tits, palming and stroking, getting his hands all over every carnal part of you.
You hum into his bicep, âMmmm.â
âThatâs alright. Donât mean youâre gettinâ away with a slap on the wrist though. Câmon, up,â he guides with a small slap to your thigh. You adjust, bringing yourself onto your knees so he can enter you from behind. You look down at his sturdy thighs, flexing as he adjusts himself between your legs. He gives you one more teasing thrust through your thighs, poking your oversensitive clit one more time before reaching down to spread your folds.
You moan as he presses against your entrance, and itâs not the best time to have a come to Jesus moment, but â Joelâs size was in no way over exaggerated between your legs. You stiffen in realization, and Joel, attentive as always, notices. He guides your chin to face him and nuzzles his nose up against yours, mouth tracing down to your lips. Your breath mingles, stagnant in the long-forgotten chill. A cushion of softness against all of his spiky edges that showed up tonight. âYouâre on top, baby. Take it as slow or as fast as ya want.â
Nodding at the reminder, you find yourself that you donât want to take it slow. You want to be as sore as heâd promised, want to feel him for days and be reminded of this every time you look at the winter morningâs frost on the shingles outside.
Sinking down over his throbbing length yanks the air out of your lungs as you seat yourself with him bottoming out and going balls deep in your cunt simultaneously. He grunts against you in surprise, softening the blow of your heady moan. âAttagirl,â he huffs into the crease between your neck and shoulder. Itâs a stretch, searing up your thighs and to your lower back. Youâre brought back to yourself when Joel rolls his hips into you, making the pain liquefy into mind-numbing pleasure. You spend thirty seconds waiting for him to fuck up into you in a way that changes your philosophy around the world, but instead, heâs still and solid inside of you.
âGo on,â Joel coaxes, placing a steady hand just shy of your mound. âGotta prove you deserve to cum again.â He taps your thigh as if heâs telling you to giddy up, and the shame warms the back of your neck better than any heater ever could.
You whimper. His hands coast up your thighs, squeezing your hips tight before falling to grip the seats below. Youâre still weak from your last orgasm, shaky legs struggling to hold yourself up as it is. âDaddy⌠I canâtâŚâÂ
âAinât no different than fuckinâ yâself on that vibrator or dildo or whatever the fuckâs in your nightstand. Girl like you, gotta have a wimpy âlil fucktoy somewhere.â His words make you clench around him, and he groans into your neck. Joel looks up at the front window, now covered in snowflakes. He smirks when he spots the rearview mirror. âOughta make you watch yourself. Show a pathetic, cockstarved slut what happens when she bites off more than she can chew.â At that, you mewl, grinding yourself down. The chuckle he lets out is lined with cruelty.
Joel pins you to his chest with one burly arm and leans forward with a hash of grunts from effort. He reaches out towards the rearview mirror, lowering it to face the middle seat that youâre both braced on. He sinks back quickly, and it almost gives you whiplash before you make eye contact with yourself. You can see everything. Tremors travel up your legs and into your arms. Your body is getting freezer burn from how cold and hot you are at the same time. Pleasured tears threaten to spill over your waterline. Joelâs smug fucking face as he murmurs endlessly at you.Â
Your mouth is parted as you take yourself in, truly a pathetic, pretty little picture as you pant. âCâmon,â Joel coaxes, squeezing your ass. âYou can do it. Make daddy proud. Iâll even give you a boost.â Joel reaches to your tied hands and quickly undoes the scarf, letting it drop to the floor. You flex your fingers and then reach out for the chairs ahead to get a good grip.
You prop yourself up on your knees, anchoring yourself to the two chairs in front of you. Using a combination of your upper and lower body strength, you rise halfway off of Joelâs cock before your body gives out. His balls slap wetly against your clit. He laughs, still not touching you at all. Your head flops forward as you look down to where the two of you meet, and then at the mirror where his cock is buried deep inside of you. You whine in dismay.
He wasnât lying when he said he was going to get you sore. You can only moan. Itâs pleasure like youâve never had it before â too much, not enough, painful, so good. âPlease, Joel â I canât⌠canât handle it.â
âIâll decide what you can handle,â he says.
âYouâreâ youâre so fucking mean,â you rasp.
âGets you this soaked, baby. Donât see your pussy complaininâ. You love beinâ treated like a piece âa meat. Like a little fleshlight for men to fuck.â
You clench, tight. âAh!â Joel fucking sniggers behind you, but a rush of confidence spills through you at the underlying moan in his throat.
Determined to get what you want, you tighten your grip on the front seats. Haul yourself up, almost so that the tip slips right out, and then collapse back onto Joelâs cock. And, shit, itâs a lot. You doubt you could handle his cock in missionary, but being made to ride him in such a compromising position, sprawled out across his shitty backseat? Thatâs an entirely different animal, one that you hadnât expected to have to handle.
You focus on doing just enough to please him and just enough to keep yourself intact. You repeat your movements two or three times, rising and falling. Little moans and whimpers, some pained, some good when he nudges your g-spot just right, slip in and out of you.
Youâre shaking like a leaf on his cock as you somehow manage to lift yourself another time before fucking back on him. âDaaaddy.â Your lips quiver as you form the word. A single tear runs down your face from overexertion, and heâs quick to wipe it up with his thumb as if it was never there. You look truly whorish and pathetic, just like heâd wanted, bouncing on his cock with the last of the energy you have left in you.
His tip jabs against that goddamn spot again, and you double over on the center console. You take heaving breaths, making eye contact with yourself in the mirror, desperate to please as you attempt to keep humping him with the change in angle. Youâre letting out strings of disoriented words, but barely can tell that youâre talking.
âI fuck you dumb already? Slutty little girl. Told ya you were in for it. Ainât ever had much of a knack for listeninâ. Gonna dick you down now, sweet girl.â He drags your legs into the crook of his elbows, holding you upright for him as he shifts to his knees between your legs. Braced on the center console with your pussy settled on his cock, the new angle makes you cry out. You hold yourself up on your elbows, giving shallow rolls of your hips in return as Joel gets settled inside of you.
The first thrust makes your eyes roll back so far that you see black. âFeel good?â
âSo⌠so fuâfucking goo⌠good daddy,â you whimper into the console, gripping the sides of it just so you have something to hold onto.
âSwallowinâ daddyâs dick whole in this greedy cunt. Goddamn, drippinâ down my fuckinâ balls. Such a masochistic slut, all after a poundinâ from an old man. All up in a tizzy for this cock.â
You moan your agreement, completely submissive to Joelâs wills. You move like a ragdoll for him, letting him yank you back on his cock while he meets you there, thrust for thrust. He pulls out, a small mercy, but when he sheathes himself back inside of you in full, itâs the beginning of a punishing pace.
You donât even notice yourself drooling all over the console until Joel says something about it. âDroolinâ from two places. Yeah, baby, you needed this. Daddyâs pretty cockslut.â You whine especially loudly when Joel drags you back across the console, damn near fast enough to give your stomach rugburn.Â
Hands framing your spread legs, Joel hooks them both around his torso, using the leverage to plow into you. Youâre boneless beneath him, mouth frozen in silent moans. His hips meet your ass with each shove of his cock in your sloppy cunt, the obscene sound of slap after slap pealing out within the truck. âDamn lucky weâre in the middle of nowhere,â Joel growls on another thrust. âSomeone woulda been knockinâ on the window long time ago with how loud youâre beinâ.â
âMmph,â you gasp when Joel tosses one of your legs up and over the passenger seat. You hold yourself there as he digs his fingers into your other thigh, shifting his spare hand to your mound.
âDaddy please please please pleaââ you start panting like a broken record, desperate to feel his hand on your clit, which throbs with inattention on the console. You grind frantically on the edge just in case he denies you again.Â
Joel laughs above you, fully smudging two fingers across your clit in a blur of indescribable pleasure. âAinât gonna make ya beg this time. Canât wait to feel ya creaminâ âround me⌠maybe Iâll make ya lick that up too. Nasty bitch.â
âJoooel, oh fuck, pleaseâŚâ you whine as he continues railing you, this time fiercely tweaking your clit in-time with his movements.
The new position has his thrusts meeting your cervix, and you scream, pleasure corkscrewing through your body. Thereâs nowhere for all of it to go with how viciously it burns in your stomach â all you can do is take it and whine for him. âTakinâ it real good. See what happens when ya behave? You get this fat cock splittinâ your whore cunt in two, jusâ like you were askinâ for.â
He grips your hip tight, clearly expecting an answer. You slur, âMhm, daddy!â
Joel rubs faster circles around your clit, spouting filth while he drills your pussy. You can tell heâs chasing his own release, too, hips frantically fucking in and out of you, his cock twitching every single time you clench. Youâre burning up as he jackhammers your pussy. Your second orgasm of the night brims low in your stomach, âCome on, baby, know youâre close. Feel this slutty pussy squeezinâ me. You gonna ask permission like a good girl this time, or are ya gonna go back to your defiant little slut self?â
âNo, daddy,â you whimper, suspended in thin air over orgasmic bliss. Heâs rubbing your clit erratically, doing everything he can to hold you in place. âP-please daddy, can I come?â You practically scream it out.
âGo ahead,â he says. âCome for daddyâs, come allll over daddyâs cock.â
The band snaps. Your back arches, and you feel time stop in the second before you fall slack on the console, spasming from the best orgasm of your fucking life. Your clit feels like thereâs fucking pop rocks on it, something that not even your vibrator has ever achieved. âThank you daddy!â you cry out, repeating it as you lose all feeling in your bones. You hardly have any control over your body anymore â itâs just Joel Joel Joel Joel. Sated and weary, you just lay there, letting Joel fuck into you.
And fuck into you he does â roughly, helping you ride out your orgasm as he pursues his. âThatâs my girl,â he says, and you swear that alone could make you cum all over again. âLettinâ your daddy use this juicy, well-fucked cunt to get his own.â He canât hold back his moans, thatâs how you know heâs close, grunting and gasping as he rocks his hips into yours. His hand lands on your ass in a sharp smack, and your pussy clenches in exactly the way that he expected. He lets out a particularly ragged noise, folding himself over you to nip at your neck and rest his forehead against your shoulder blade. âDaddyâs close, where do ya want me, baby?â
âTits,â you whine. Itâs a miracle you can even get that one word out, but somehow, you manage a few more. âCome on my tits, daddy.â
âFuck!â Joel shouts, yanking himself over you. You help him roll yourself over and sit up on your elbows, and he jerks himself once, twice, before spraying his load all over your tits with the loudest groan yet. His brows fold together as he cums, eyes drooping and his mouth parted as he takes deep breaths.
You sit there for a handful of heavy minutes, listening to each otherâs jagged breathing and the sawtoothed wind outside. Youâre both so fucked. Literally, and figuratively. Stuck in the buttfuck middle of nowhere, you with your dadâs proclaimed bestieâs cum drying on your tits, and said bestie staring at you with post-coital puppy dog eyes and your cum all over his balls.
Youâre the first to speak up, still winded. âThat was⌠that was good.â
Joel nods mindlessly, tongue swiping out to lick his lips. He beckons you closer, and on trembling legs, you bring yourself to the backseat. You return to your previous position, huddled up and curled next to the door. Joel fumbles around under the back bench for a little until he comes up with a small, sunbleached pack of princess-themed pocket tissues that have to be as old as Sarah is. He dabs at your chest before stuffing them into the closest empty cupholder, and then brings you closer to his chest.
You donât notice yourself falling asleep when all you can feel is Joel.
Thereâs better ways to wake up than a furious rapping on the window, but that isnât the first thing you notice. You blink your eyes open groggily, only to face an egg yolk sun cracking wide open over the treeline and snowmelt bleeding out from every given surface. Joelâs behind you, nose in your neck, snoring softly with his arms wrapped around your middle. You take a moment to admire him â his sun kissed skin and his peaceful expression. It takes you a moment to remember you slept with him. You slept with Joel, and it was the best fuck of your life.
Youâre stretching, on the verge of a yawn, when you see the familiar head of black hair over the window. âShit!â you shout. Joel jerks to life behind you, mumbling something that sounds a lot like âwhat?â.Â
You scramble to pull the coat over the both of you from where it fell off of you in the middle of the night, covering your naked bodies. âGet dressed!â you hiss to Joel, searching for wherever the fuck your panties ended up last night.
âWhat the hellâs gotten into yaââ he starts, and you feel the exact moment that he realizes Tommy Miller is outside of the truck. âMotherfucker,â he curses, swaying towards the front seat to snag his clothes. You see him almost put his head through his T-shirt armhole three times before he gets it right. His sweatpants are next, which he tugs up his bare legs without even searching for his boxers.
âJoel?â Tommy shouts outside. âWake up, sleepinâ beauty!â He knocks on the door again, the windows blurry from melting snow. You have that to thank, at least. It buys you enough time to tug your polo over your head, but not enough time to button it all the way up.
âFuckinâ... dumbass,â Joel huffs as he clips the lock on the door and kicks it open, looking at least somewhat composed. You take deep breaths, looking between the two of them. âHowâd you find us?â
Tommy looks Joel up and down, scrutinizing him. âWhat happened to southern gentleman manners? I came out here to save ya from Mt. Everest, brother! Least you could say is âthank youâ.â
âThank you,â you fill in for Joel, even if the last thing youâre feeling is grateful.
âHer daddy threw a hissy fit, yâknow? Told him you were fine and weâd go lookinâ for ya in the morninâ. We saw all that backup on the highway, I went this way, he went that way, turns out my gut was right. âCourse my dumbass brother would take this route⌠hey, youâre truckâs a fuckinâ mess.â Tommy sinks his hand into the closest cupholder, pulling out a wad of tissues that have been soaked in his cum. You hiss as if youâve been scalded with boiling hot water.
Joel starts, âTommyââ
âWhat the fuck is this shit?â The realization seems to dawn on poor Tommy when heâs peeling apart the tissues, and he drops them like theyâre a thousand pounds. You canât even bring yourself to scold him for littering as the wind carries them away. âJoel. You dirty dog!â He says, eyes flitting between the two of you like itâs the most impossible thing in the world.
Your heart picks up to a speed that can rival most NASCAR drivers and your face burns like hot asphalt. You look pointedly down at the ground.
âJesus fuckinâ Christ,â Joel seethes, pinching the bridge of his nose. âGet outta here, you little shit.â
Tommyâs hands go up. âHey now, I ainât doinâ anything. That is not a conversation I wanna have with her daddy.â He clears his throat, effectively clearing the air along with it. âSo, uh, truck break down?â Joel grunts in affirmation.
âBeen tellinâ ya you need to make a stop at the auto shop⌠Câmon, Iâll get y'all home,â Tommy says, jingling the keys to his own truck. âCall a tow on the way.â
Joel drags his feet all the way to Tommyâs passenger side. You get your wallet and jacket together, winding the latter around your waist. The sun almost blinds you on your way out, and Tommy stops you.
âI hope you didnât let âim stick it to ya with them prehistoric condoms. Youâre smarter ân that.â
âGod, no,â you huff out.
âI dunno whatâs stupider, lettinâ my asshole brother hit it raw or gettinâ a UTIââ
âOkay!â you announce, hands going up as you round the back of Tommyâs truck. âConversation over.â Youâre still smiling playfully at Tommy as you clamber into the back of the truck, sighing when the air conditioner hits.
Just like that, back to the same old same old sunny, shithole state of Texas. Joel looks at you in the rearview mirror and winks at you. You guess not everything has to stay the same these days.
A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.
Summary: You have a crush on Sarahâs father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, best friendâs dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joelâs cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting
Word count: 6.8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479
Swelter
A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarahâs childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarahâs bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesnât even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.
Sarah hasnât changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.
You have your face in a womanâs magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. Thereâs a page with the recipe for âThe Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!â next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.
âWhat?â Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.
âWhat kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Donât get greedy now!â You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.
âSeriously? We canât win,â she groans dramatically, âChocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.â
Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. Itâs him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.
âDad,â Sarah says with exasperation, âI thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.â
âItâs gettinâ colder outside now,â he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, âThe Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavementâs coolinâ down.â
âI walked him when I was fourteen,â she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, âIâm twenty.â
âJust âcause youâre grown, donât mean you canât do right by âem,â he states matter-of-factly.
âHi, Mr. Miller,â you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.
âHiya darlinâ,â he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, âGet your butt off that chair.â
âFine,â she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, âAnd what about my guest?â
âSheâs grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour youâll be gone,â he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.
âIâll just get that assignment done while youâre out,â you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.
âSee?â Joel looks triumphant.
âYouâd make a hell of a lawyer,â she deadpans at her father and walks past him.
When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Millerâs image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.
You find that itâs near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. Itâs not that you canât concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joelâs voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.
Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarahâs father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).
This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joelâs hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.
Despite all that, those opportunities werenât many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didnât want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommyâs wife who always had some DIY-project going on.
Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarahâs room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.
One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.
The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.
âSarah, I needââ
You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.
Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.
And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.
âFuck,â you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, âChrist, âm so sorry, sweetheart.â
âItâs okay, Mr. Miller,â you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.
God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.
âHi, Mr. Miller,â you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldnât understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.
âHey kiddo,â he returns with a smile, âHow many times do I gotta say to ya that itâs just Joel?â
âAlright, Mr. Miller,â you tease, ââI mean, Just Joel.â
You hear him laugh softly but you donât dare look at him, afraid that youâll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.
âIâm just getting something to drink,â you explain when it becomes too much, âSarahâs room is boiling hot.â
âThatâs fine, take what youâd like,â he replies, and thereâs a kind teasing in his voice. âBut donât touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.â
The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.
âNow I have to get one of those,â you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.
In the beginning, it hadnât been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.
âFuck! Ow ow ow!â You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.
âSarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,â Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, âSweetheart, âtis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.â
âIt really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,â you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.
âI know,â he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, âLemme take a look. Lie down on your front.â
You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.
The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.
âItâs alright, sweetheart. I can see it,â his breath was slightly quicker but you didnât want to jump to conclusions, âHe really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.â
Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, âCan you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.â
âHow?â You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, âMy dressâll ride up.â
âJust bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,â he explained and cleared his throat once more, âOn my life, I wonât look.â
So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.
A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.
You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and heâd find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.
He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and itâs the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.
With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joelâs jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.
That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.
Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, âYouâre trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.â
âOh, whatever will I do?â You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.
âGo morally bankrupt?â He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.
âOnly that?â You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle youâre sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.
âGive it here,â he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. Thereâs electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.
Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can thatâs been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. Youâre worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.
Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, âItâs so hot outside today. Donât think Iâll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.â
âCâmon, sweetheart,â he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, âI know Iâm always teasinâ ya but you canât be doing this.â
âJesus Christ, Joel,â you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, âItâs just very hot⌠and itâs not like you havenât had a peek.â
âHey now,â he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, âThat ainât a fair accusation.â
âIâm not accusing you of anything,â you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, âBut youâre not denying it.â
âDonât tryna make me look like the pervert here,â he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, âI noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.â
âWhat do you mean?â You furrow your brows in confusion, âYour hands were never on mââ
âDid that bee sting really hurt that much?â He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, âYeah, I saw her; your pussy wet fâme.â
Itâs true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You canât imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if itâs simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.
âDid ya touch yourself after?â His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.
âDuring my shower that you told me to take,â you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, âI couldnât stop myselfâ I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...â
This is a crossroad, you realize, youâve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesnât want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - heâll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.
However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesnât try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.
âIs this whatâll quiet down that mind of yours?â He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, âIf I take a peek more to get it outta our system?â
âWhat are you doing?â You ask as if you do not know. Itâs your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.
âI ainât doing nothinâ that you havenât already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendinâ me heart eyes all week,â he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, âGood girl.â
âYou shouldnâtââ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joelâs eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the carâs hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joelâs belt, âWe shouldnât be doing this.â
âYouâre damn right we shouldnât be doinâ this,â he agrees immediately but doesnât stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.
His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you donât want it stained.
In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.
When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.
He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if thereâs an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldnât want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.
Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like youâve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. Itâll hurt. You want it to if it means that you wonât doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.
âTell me you want this too,â he seeks your reassurance.
âSo fucking badly, Mr. Millerâ Joel,â you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, âPlease, want you in me.â
âJeez, honey,â his breath shakes, âAlready so eager. I havenât even felt if sheâs ready fâme.â
With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you donât think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like youâre in a state of agony.
âShhhâŚâ he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, âYouâre grippinâ me so good, doll, canât wait to fuck this pussy. Donât cry like that. Be patient.â
âPlease, Iâm soââ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, âItâs yours, please.â
âI know itâs mine, donât gotta say it, I know,â he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what youâve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.
When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.
âGoddamn, you are tight,â he says through gritted teeth, âFeels fuckinâ amazinâ.â
âAh,â you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, âJoel, I canât.â
âYes, you can, honey,â he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know itâs because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, âStay still, let her get used to it.â
âIt hurts,â you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.
âI know but ya just gotta relax,â he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.
When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, âThatâs it, honey. Just enjoy this until youâre creaminâ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.â
Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.
God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, âBabydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekinâ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?â
âPlease, yes, oh please,â you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.
âYes, yes, yesyesyesâ oh God, Iâm⌠fuck, Iâm coming!â You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.
âGood girl,â he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, âOh sweetheart, youâre choking my dick so gââ
He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.
You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.
âFuck,â you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, âFelt too good, honey. This pussyâs makinâ me all sweet on you.â
âIâm that irresistible?â You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.
Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, âYouâre makinâ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Cominâ too soon like a goddamn teenager.â
âI liked it,â you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, âMade me feel sexy and powerful.â
He scoffs but canât fight the smile on his face, âNow now, donât get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs fâme.â
You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.
âNow look at that,â he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like heâs paid to do it.
âJesus,â you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joelâs hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You donât think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.
Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.
The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.
However, it doesnât stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.
âJoelâ holy fuck, youâre incredible,â you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.
You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.
âNo! Please,â your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, âPlease, Daddy! Pleasepleasepleaââ
âWhat the fuck did you just say tâme?â He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, âI was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, Iâm gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.â
His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.
âJoel, oh myâ fuck!â You whimper.
âWrong word,â he replies.
You correct yourself immediately because thereâs no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, âDaddy, oh Iâ mhmm, Iâm gonna come for you. Donât stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleasepleaâ!â
He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.
Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isnât holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.
Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.
âShh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, donât it? Thatâs it,â Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you donât know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.
âSoundproof,â he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.
The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, âYou good? Didnât cause any brain damage, did I?â
âYou think this truck has ever seen action like that before?â You joke breathlessly.
âProbably ainât the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,â he says with an apologetic smile, âSorry âbout that.â
âDisappointed? Youâre insane,â you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, âI came two times. Hard. Iâm not complaining.â
âJust saying that I woulda liked to do it⌠properly, I guess,â he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.
âThis doesnât have to be a one-time thing,â you try to act casual as you say it but thereâs no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.
âAnd when would we have time for that?â He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, âWe canât, honey.â
âWe just did,â you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarahâs room. He can have these.
He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, âWhen?â
âArenât you driving me to the airport on Sunday?â You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.
.
.
.
FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS đâ¤ď¸đâ¤ď¸
A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.
Summary: You have a crush on Sarahâs father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, best friendâs dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joelâs cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting
Word count: 6.8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479
Swelter
A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarahâs childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarahâs bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesnât even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.
Sarah hasnât changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.
You have your face in a womanâs magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. Thereâs a page with the recipe for âThe Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!â next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.
âWhat?â Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.
âWhat kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Donât get greedy now!â You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.
âSeriously? We canât win,â she groans dramatically, âChocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.â
Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. Itâs him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.
âDad,â Sarah says with exasperation, âI thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.â
âItâs gettinâ colder outside now,â he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, âThe Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavementâs coolinâ down.â
âI walked him when I was fourteen,â she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, âIâm twenty.â
âJust âcause youâre grown, donât mean you canât do right by âem,â he states matter-of-factly.
âHi, Mr. Miller,â you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.
âHiya darlinâ,â he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, âGet your butt off that chair.â
âFine,â she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, âAnd what about my guest?â
âSheâs grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour youâll be gone,â he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.
âIâll just get that assignment done while youâre out,â you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.
âSee?â Joel looks triumphant.
âYouâd make a hell of a lawyer,â she deadpans at her father and walks past him.
When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Millerâs image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.
You find that itâs near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. Itâs not that you canât concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joelâs voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.
Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarahâs father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).
This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joelâs hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.
Despite all that, those opportunities werenât many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didnât want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommyâs wife who always had some DIY-project going on.
Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarahâs room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.
One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.
The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.
âSarah, I needââ
You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.
Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.
And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.
âFuck,â you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, âChrist, âm so sorry, sweetheart.â
âItâs okay, Mr. Miller,â you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.
God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.
âHi, Mr. Miller,â you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldnât understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.
âHey kiddo,â he returns with a smile, âHow many times do I gotta say to ya that itâs just Joel?â
âAlright, Mr. Miller,â you tease, ââI mean, Just Joel.â
You hear him laugh softly but you donât dare look at him, afraid that youâll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.
âIâm just getting something to drink,â you explain when it becomes too much, âSarahâs room is boiling hot.â
âThatâs fine, take what youâd like,â he replies, and thereâs a kind teasing in his voice. âBut donât touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.â
The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.
âNow I have to get one of those,â you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.
In the beginning, it hadnât been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.
âFuck! Ow ow ow!â You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.
âSarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,â Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, âSweetheart, âtis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.â
âIt really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,â you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.
âI know,â he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, âLemme take a look. Lie down on your front.â
You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.
The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.
âItâs alright, sweetheart. I can see it,â his breath was slightly quicker but you didnât want to jump to conclusions, âHe really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.â
Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, âCan you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.â
âHow?â You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, âMy dressâll ride up.â
âJust bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,â he explained and cleared his throat once more, âOn my life, I wonât look.â
So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.
A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.
You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and heâd find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.
He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and itâs the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.
With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joelâs jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.
That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.
Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, âYouâre trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.â
âOh, whatever will I do?â You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.
âGo morally bankrupt?â He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.
âOnly that?â You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle youâre sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.
âGive it here,â he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. Thereâs electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.
Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can thatâs been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. Youâre worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.
Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, âItâs so hot outside today. Donât think Iâll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.â
âCâmon, sweetheart,â he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, âI know Iâm always teasinâ ya but you canât be doing this.â
âJesus Christ, Joel,â you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, âItâs just very hot⌠and itâs not like you havenât had a peek.â
âHey now,â he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, âThat ainât a fair accusation.â
âIâm not accusing you of anything,â you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, âBut youâre not denying it.â
âDonât tryna make me look like the pervert here,â he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, âI noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.â
âWhat do you mean?â You furrow your brows in confusion, âYour hands were never on mââ
âDid that bee sting really hurt that much?â He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, âYeah, I saw her; your pussy wet fâme.â
Itâs true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You canât imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if itâs simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.
âDid ya touch yourself after?â His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.
âDuring my shower that you told me to take,â you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, âI couldnât stop myselfâ I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...â
This is a crossroad, you realize, youâve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesnât want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - heâll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.
However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesnât try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.
âIs this whatâll quiet down that mind of yours?â He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, âIf I take a peek more to get it outta our system?â
âWhat are you doing?â You ask as if you do not know. Itâs your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.
âI ainât doing nothinâ that you havenât already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendinâ me heart eyes all week,â he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, âGood girl.â
âYou shouldnâtââ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joelâs eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the carâs hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joelâs belt, âWe shouldnât be doing this.â
âYouâre damn right we shouldnât be doinâ this,â he agrees immediately but doesnât stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.
His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you donât want it stained.
In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.
When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.
He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if thereâs an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldnât want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.
Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like youâve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. Itâll hurt. You want it to if it means that you wonât doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.
âTell me you want this too,â he seeks your reassurance.
âSo fucking badly, Mr. Millerâ Joel,â you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, âPlease, want you in me.â
âJeez, honey,â his breath shakes, âAlready so eager. I havenât even felt if sheâs ready fâme.â
With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you donât think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like youâre in a state of agony.
âShhhâŚâ he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, âYouâre grippinâ me so good, doll, canât wait to fuck this pussy. Donât cry like that. Be patient.â
âPlease, Iâm soââ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, âItâs yours, please.â
âI know itâs mine, donât gotta say it, I know,â he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what youâve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.
When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.
âGoddamn, you are tight,â he says through gritted teeth, âFeels fuckinâ amazinâ.â
âAh,â you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, âJoel, I canât.â
âYes, you can, honey,â he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know itâs because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, âStay still, let her get used to it.â
âIt hurts,â you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.
âI know but ya just gotta relax,â he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.
When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, âThatâs it, honey. Just enjoy this until youâre creaminâ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.â
Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.
God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, âBabydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekinâ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?â
âPlease, yes, oh please,â you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.
âYes, yes, yesyesyesâ oh God, Iâm⌠fuck, Iâm coming!â You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.
âGood girl,â he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, âOh sweetheart, youâre choking my dick so gââ
He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.
You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.
âFuck,â you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, âFelt too good, honey. This pussyâs makinâ me all sweet on you.â
âIâm that irresistible?â You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.
Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, âYouâre makinâ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Cominâ too soon like a goddamn teenager.â
âI liked it,â you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, âMade me feel sexy and powerful.â
He scoffs but canât fight the smile on his face, âNow now, donât get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs fâme.â
You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.
âNow look at that,â he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like heâs paid to do it.
âJesus,â you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joelâs hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You donât think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.
Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.
The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.
However, it doesnât stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.
âJoelâ holy fuck, youâre incredible,â you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.
You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.
âNo! Please,â your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, âPlease, Daddy! Pleasepleasepleaââ
âWhat the fuck did you just say tâme?â He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, âI was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, Iâm gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.â
His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.
âJoel, oh myâ fuck!â You whimper.
âWrong word,â he replies.
You correct yourself immediately because thereâs no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, âDaddy, oh Iâ mhmm, Iâm gonna come for you. Donât stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleasepleaâ!â
He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.
Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isnât holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.
Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.
âShh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, donât it? Thatâs it,â Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you donât know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.
âSoundproof,â he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.
The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, âYou good? Didnât cause any brain damage, did I?â
âYou think this truck has ever seen action like that before?â You joke breathlessly.
âProbably ainât the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,â he says with an apologetic smile, âSorry âbout that.â
âDisappointed? Youâre insane,â you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, âI came two times. Hard. Iâm not complaining.â
âJust saying that I woulda liked to do it⌠properly, I guess,â he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.
âThis doesnât have to be a one-time thing,â you try to act casual as you say it but thereâs no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.
âAnd when would we have time for that?â He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, âWe canât, honey.â
âWe just did,â you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarahâs room. He can have these.
He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, âWhen?â
âArenât you driving me to the airport on Sunday?â You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.
.
.
.
FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS đâ¤ď¸đâ¤ď¸
summary: joel is a simple man who simply finds pleasure in pleasing you.
warnings: moodboard used for aesthetic purposes - does not represent the reader description, 18+ MDNI, no timeline, no specified ages, no mention of sarah or ellie, LATINO JOEL (most translations within the text except for some reused pet names/common phrases). This is porn with minimal plot (but unrelated plot I canonâhis favorite artist is Linda Ronstadt and I stand by it.), Joel maneuvers reader, manhandling essentially, no other descriptions of reader other than nipple piercings, body worship(?), Joelâs filthy fucking mouth, mention of thigh riding, oral (both receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, mentions of intense emotions, aftercare.
word count: 3.3k
HOW TO SUPPORT PALESTINE // IMPORTANT FOR TLOU READERS & WRITERS
a/n: fun fact, Iâm a virgin, so if it seems far fetched itâs probably because it is. anyways, a special shoutout to ramon nomar for being the muse for this piece, another to @mrsswilliams for beta-ing and fueling my horny antics, thank you to my spanish teachers for guiding me to this moment (probably not your intention but I digress), and to you for taking the time to be here and hopefully enjoying! happy reading xx (banners & dividers by @saradika-graphics)
Addicting is the only word Joel Miller can muster up to describe you as his mind clouds with lust each night heâs alone, bucking into his own fist and spilling his sins after heâd met you. Of course youâre beautiful and charming above all things, but he canât help the way his cock stirs after simply a phone call from you describing your day. How you miss him and want to meet up again soon.
Joel isnât the brightest man, which he is very self aware of. But what he craves to learn about you, what your favorite flower is, favorite ice cream, your desires, outranks any level of intelligence a man could hold. He wants to please you, not for a superficial reason to use against you down the line. He enjoys your smile and the way your eyes crinkle, your dimple making an appearance on occasion, and it makes him feel good. The little things shine a light in his chest, ever the people pleaser.
However, he finds a red, hot desire to rouse you, make you squirm under his tender touch. To watch every fiber of control and tension dissipate from your being.
But heâs cautious.
Heâs treading on thin ice within himself. He wants to give and give and give, but heâd never forgive himself if he overwhelmed and alarmed you. Your wit keeps him on his toes, tempting and trying his willpower to take things at a palatable pace.
But heâs just a man at his simplest form, a glutton for pleasure wanting to carve himself a home within you and give everything he has to please you.Â
You found yourself perched upon his lap, a forgotten movie droning in the background as hands and lips explore new territory. Joel firmly guided your hips, firstly against his own, then he aided you across his denim clad thigh after you wriggled your pants to the floor.Â
Choruses of Spanish praises, filth, âmamita, use meâ, and phrases alike rolled off his tongue effortlessly as he found pleasure within your own. Consuming every moan, gasp, and âdonât stopâ you were so eager to give.
He struggled to deny your beautiful pleas to get him off as he had for you. You knew he wanted you to, there was no doubt in your mind considering the prominent bulge straining and begging you to. He reassured you, or rather made excuses for himself to ease the guilt he felt at your subtle disappointment.
Iâm not coming in my jeans in front of the prettiest girl Iâve ever seen.
You said you had work in the morning, anyhow. We outta getâcha home, preciosa.
Joel kissed you softly as he pulled up your pants, grabbed his keys, opened his truck door for you, waited at red lights, and finally as he dropped you off at your apartment building, sealing the night with melted wax, branding himself on your heart until you meet next.
Made it home okay, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.
And he does.
His head is already spinning at the thought of going out with you again. Heâs showered, trimmed, even ironed his flannel before making sure itâs buttoned and tucked properly. Well rested is not one of the qualities heâs adorningâno thanks to you running his imagination rampantâbut the adrenaline he feels, and the coffee he drank at noon, make up for his lack of preparedness.
At the end of the day, those things donât even matter. Joel Miller makes it as far as his front door when you ring, bringing you inside with the intention of grabbing his own keys. His hands find you instead, your face in a gentle caress as he compliments your attire, your appearance as a whole, and your waist as he kisses you with increasing fervor. You donât stop him, and he doesnât stop himself.
âAy dios. Couldnât stop thinkinâ about you all day,â he mumbles against your neck, walking you backwards to his bedroom. His shirt wrinkles under your tight grip, suffocating him until you pop each button open one by one. You leave him in his black undershirt, half untucked in his dark washed jeans.
The back of your knees find his mattress before you even realize, forcing you to sit parallel with his waist. He takes his time, always calculated with his hands on every sweet spot he can reach. Joel cups your jaw, admiring your blown out pupils and the raw lust overtaking your features.
âWanna take good care of ya, now,â he soothes. âJust say the word and Iâll stop, you know Iâll stop for ya, promise.â
Itâs half of a promise to you, half of him asking you to promise to tell him if it becomes too much. You nod, reaching for him once again.
âNo, chiquita,â he holds your hand to his chest. âÂżMe prometes? You promise me?â
âI promise,â you say clearly and wholeheartedly. âOn my life.â
With your renewed consent, he folds himself over to kiss you deeply. His tongue dances with yours, similarly to a few nights prior but with increased desperation. Fingertips graze up your sides, nerves twitching under his subtle touch, only unlatching your lips to lift your top over your head. His eyes fixate on the pebbled flesh and metal protruding your bra, making quick work of the clasp before removing it.
âI knew you had something hiding underneath this,â he muses, toying with the fabric of your bra between his first two fingers. âJust when I thought you couldnât get any prettier, hm?â
Joel skims his thumbs on the underside of both of your breasts, attaching his mouth to your collarbone. He suckles your delicate skin, committing the taste of your sweet musk and desire to his memory. He softly licks over one of your nipples, taking in how your head tips back with a sigh. He brings it into his mouth, nipping and assuaging the pierced bud until you manage to free his shirt out of his waistline.
âPaciencia, amor. Patience, sweetheart, please,â he pacifies as he guides your hand out of reach from his belt. âJust wanna savor you. Can I?â
You nod and opt to tangle your fingers in his curls. Approval seeps through his smirk as he continues his ministrations for as long as he pleases, feeling accomplished each time your hips chase his.
Joel stands up straight, running his calloused hands over one of your clothed legs, meticulously pulling each shoe and sock off and tossing them to the side to find later.Â
âDo I need a condom, baby?â He mutters against your knee, toying with the hemline of your pants.
You tell him no and quickly explain youâre clean and protected. Something in him visibly switches, desire becoming carnal. He clings tight to his sense of control, desperately willing himself to give himself to you, not give into himself.
Joel drags both layers of bottoms down your legs, watching you challenge him by keeping them clamped together. He exhales heavily through his nose, your limbs relaxing slightly, but just enough for him to retake control.
âChrist, looks like I was wrong again,â he sighs, smoothing his flattened palms over your open thighs. You can get prettier. âOh sheâs pretty, mamita. All this for me?â
A gasp falls between your lips as youâre tugged closer to the edge of the mattress. Your head spins, the only thought crossing it is Joel. His hands. His words. His filthy mouth and how itâs mere centimeters from where you want him to be. Need him to be.
âJoel,â you whine, feeling the scratch of his blunt facial hair on your inner thighs. His lips tease the sensitive skin around your pussy.
âWhat?â He coos, fingernails biting your flesh. âDime, baby. Tell me what you want.â
It feels pathetic, youâre completely at his mercy, stripped down on his bed while he remains fully clothed over you. He has you in the palm of his hand, putty waiting to be molded and shaped however he pleases. Bliss has already warped your features, the anticipation of whatâs to come already numbing your brain.
âI want you,â you cry simply.
âYou have me, donât ya? Iâm gonna need you to be more specific.â
Frustration bubbles in your belly. Youâre truly not annoyed, but the tension might snap you in half before he gets the chance to.
âWant you to touch me,â you plead. âWant you to make me come, please.â
Joel hums with content, thumbs pulling your cunt open from the outer lips. A slick, sticky mess you are, hardly touched and begging to come. Arousal seeps from you, finding its way to your tight hole. You watch Joel wet his lips, the self restraint slowly dwindling from his gaze.Â
âShow me,â he huffs. âBe good and fuck your hand fâme. Wanna see how you like it.â
The sound of his metal belt buckle clanking against itself is enough for your hand to fly below your hips. Relief floods your nervous system the moment you circle your clit, hips lifting and chasing the friction. Sighs leave your parted lips, eyelids falling shut with pleasure.
âAh ah,â he corrects. âEyes on me, beba. Sigue jugando con esa flor bonita. MĂrame.â Keep playing with that pretty flower. Look at me.
You comply with his request, half lidded but maintaining eye contact nonetheless. Your fingers toy with your cunt lazily, eyes settling between his burning gaze and his taut boxers. His length strains beneath the thin fabric and his hand twitches at his side.
âI love watching you, mami,â Joel purrs. âWish yâcould see how perfect you look right nowâŚperfectly wrecked just for me.â
His words egg you on, pace quickening on your throbbing clit. Moans spill from you as you watch Joel squeeze at his seemingly uncomfortable erection for his own relief. His other palm keeps your legs spread for him, kneading desperately at your thighs as you work yourself towards the edge.
âÂżQuieres que te ayude, mamita?â Do you want me to help you?
Joel settles on his knees, both palms splayed against your skin to keep you pinned down. He licks a broad stripe from your asshole to your clit, sucking harshly on your labia before diving into your weeping cunt, all while audibly sighing with delight at your taste. Your hand instinctively rushes to grip his curls.
âI didnât tell you to stop,â he grumbles while putting your hand back where he says it belongs. âKeep playing with yourself. Make this pretty pussy cry all over my face, cosa dulce.â Sweet thing.Â
Your digits pulse against the nerve bundle, shocked by the sensation of his tongue swirling inside of you. Itâs absolutely obscene. He slurps up everything you have to give, edging you until your legs clamp over his ears. Joel sings into your cunt, a delicious melody that sends you into a frenzy. Your walls flutter around him as he guides you through your orgasm, nose nudging your hand out of the way to make more room for himself.
Your gaze drops from the ceiling to his blissful face, thick eyelashes brushing his flushed cheeks as he savors you. It all begins to feel like too much as you grip onto his shirt. You pull the cloth towards you and he gets the hint, dragging his mouth away from your pussy and removing his top.
âSo desperate to come, mamita, already finished with me?â He cants, smoothing a thumb over your kneecap.
âNo- just need a breath,â you pant. You take in his features, broad shoulders with a strong chest, thick arms. His hair alone has you running laps, the sparseness of it littered on his torso and below his belly button, his curls tousled already from your hands, and his beardâfuck his beardâis absolutely soaked with your arousal. He makes no attempt to wipe it clean before kissing you. The taste of your cunt dances on your tongue as he licks into your mouth.
âJoel,â you sigh, his lips leaving yours and trailing down your neck. âI wanna suck your cock, please.â
âYou wanna suck it?â He smirks, slipping his hand beneath his boxers before shoving them off of his thighs. His fingers slip through your folds briefly before he deposits your cum onto the tip of his dick. Mischief plays on his expression as he opens your legs once more.
Joel slowly stuffs his cock into you, not your mouth but your pussy. A gasp escapes you, morphing itself into a moan. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him in deeper.
âThought you wanted to suck it,â he grunts with a devilish grin, grinding his hips down into yours.
âHmm, Iâll suck it later,â you draw out with a smile.
He leans down to suck your bottom lip into his mouth, gently nibbling on the sensitive skin before pulling off.Â
âGod, mamita,â he exhales. âLove fucking this pussy. Takinâ me so well.â
His hips drive into yours at a devastating pace, only using a portion of his length to massage your pussy. You quickly adjust to him, allowing him to thrust deeper into you. You cry his name while simultaneously having all of the oxygen punched out of your lungs. Joel swallows your wails whole, moaning against your lips in return.
Your legs tense around his body, face twisting up with pleasure under the weight of his. Lips drag against your skin, anywhere he can reach. The room spins around you, eyes rolling back into your head as his hand snakes down to play with your clit. You desperately claw at Joel, gripping his curls in one hand and bruising his back with the other.Â
âDĂĄmelo. Give it to me like I want, sugar,â Joel coaxes.Â
The bundles of twine prickling your flesh and holding you together in one piece snap, your body completely shattering into a million fragments underneath him. He stays buried inside you as you pulse around his cock, humming into your neck and soothing his hands over your burning skin.Â
Joel gently settles onto his side near you, cupping your jaw and kissing you feverishly. You shift your body to face away from him, pushing back against his soaked erection. His eyebrows furrow, grunts of detest coming from him.
âNo, mami, I want to look at you while I fuck you. Ven aquĂ, come here,â he corrects, grasping your arm to guide you to press up chest to chest with him. A brief hiss escapes him as the cool jewelry brushes up against his nipples.
âTheseâll be the death of me,â he sighs, latching his mouth to yours once more as he maneuvers you the way he wants.Â
His cock slips easily back into your wet heat, arms trapping your upper half against his as his legs anchor to the bed to buck into you. He grips onto your ass for leverage and you find yourself holding onto it with your own palm. Itâs slower, intimate, reeling you in to take more, to take it all.
He draws another orgasm from you. Your heart thrums against his hardened chest, his pounding against the confines of his ribcage. He collapses on his back with a breathy groan, sweat perspiring on his forehead. You push back his sticky curls as he catches his breath this time.
âYou still wanna suck it?â He chuckles cheekily, offering but not forcing.Â
Heâs surprised as you eagerly crawl down his body, curling over his thigh while taking his cock in your fist. Your back is to him once more, but beggars canât be choosers, especially while heâs stuffed in your mouth so perfectly. His fingers drag along your spine, palm splaying flat to soothe the sensation quickly after. His hand stills and stomach flexes as you take as much of him as you can, pumping your tight fist over the remainder of his length.
âFuck me,â he shutters mindlessly, âfeels so good, amor. Treating me so good.â
The praises fuel you, moaning around his tip as he continues to trace shapeless trails onto your back. Your mind feels cloudy, not thunderstorms and impending doom cloudy, but rather a sunny, breezy, nothing could ever go wrong kind of cloudy. You feel taken care of for once, free to slip into a warm, blissful state with Joel. He feels safe.
âCome back, preciosa,â he grins as you make your way back up his body. He doesnât hesitate to kiss you deeply once more, running his hands gently all over your skin as you settle on top of him.
âMissed ya,â he chuckles, kissing your swollen pout a few more times before wetting his fingertips with his spit. He reaches down, circling your clit as his cock twitches against your seam. Your head falls beside his, feeling too heavy to hold up on your own.
Joel protrudes your cunt once more, nestling into you carefully at first. You writhe over him at the push and pull of his cock inside your fluttering walls, hips snapping down against his with subtle slaps of skin rejoicing. He picks up his pace beneath you, overwhelming your senses a bit too quickly.
You work your core to sit up, fully sheathed with his length as you grind against him. He grips onto your hips, watching you use him for your own pleasure.Â
âTan bonita, amor,â he hums smugly, his fingertips dancing along your bare thigh, his other hand tucked behind his head to prop himself up. âSo pretty, mami, fuck.â
He tweaks his fingers against your nipples, pinching the pebbled flesh carefully as you ride his lap. Tufts of his neat pubic hair scratch at your clit, the friction of everything causing you to soak his lap further. Youâre being pushed to your limits, throat dry and voice hoarse. Joel wishes to have put water on his bedside table, he wouldâve had heâd known youâd end up here so quickly.Â
âDoinâ okay, sweetheart?â He checks in, toying with your fingers that have found a home on his chest. You silently nod, eyelids low and face contoured with bliss.
âThink you can give me one more, bebita? Come on my cock one more time and Iâll give you whatever you need.â
Your voice hardly sounds like your own, but you mean it when you tell him yes, please. He feels it when you clamp down on his length, his thighs tensing so tight they almost cramp. His legs hinge at the knee, body pivoting you forward into his chest. Joel grabs fistfuls of your ass as he fucks up into you, all of the air leaving your lungs.
His grunts and groans become less calculated and intentional, thrusts becoming sloppier and instinctual. You squeeze him tight, toes curling as you already tumble towards your impending high.
âMierda,â he hisses, strong arms pressing your torso firmly to his. His lips consume your every breath, whine and borderline scream.
âTake it, use me, amor. DĂĄmelo, cariĂąo, and Iâll give you my cum. Take it from me,â he grunts sharply, pressing into you impossibly deeper and faster. Your skin bursts into flames, embers showering your body as he pulls that final high from you. You shutter above him, dead weight against his body as he uses you to finish himself off. He evacuates your warmth and pumps out his load between your sticky, worn out figures with a drawn out groan.Â
Joel makes the first move to stand up, cock softening and hanging between his legs. He starts to step towards his en suite bathroom to find a towel, but you reach for him.
âIâm just gettinâ somethinâ to clean you up, honey,â he smiles before seeing a sadness in your eyes, longing for him to come back. Tears prickle your eyes and Joel quickly makes his way back to the bed.
âOkay, okay, Iâll stay, baby, cĂĄlmate,â he hushes carefully, holding you close to him. âWeâll getcha cleaned up in a little bit, Iâll make you whatever you fancy for supper and relax with you, sound good?â
A nod suffices his question, knowing you trust him enough to stay rather than run off eases him as he grounds you back to reality with his warm embrace.
to stay up to date on when I post fics, follow @pascalpvnk-writes and turn on notifications! i hope you enjoyed xx
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