Prompt 89 please
Hi Bestie!!
Thank you for this request! This was a fun one, I decided to do the DBF!Joel and Reader I did a one shot about a few weeks back. You can find that here for context but you can definitely just read this sucker all on its own.
Long Distance
You and Joel have been making long distance work but this week, things hit a bit of a snag.
Written from Prompt 89: “YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!”
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (Same couple as DBF!Joel from Homecoming)
Warnings: SMUT! Masturbation (female), Oral (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex (wrap it up y'all!) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only
Length: 2.5K
If you were going to make a list of things that sucked, you knew exactly where you’d start.
It used to be delays on the L making you late for work and the grocery store around the corner from your apartment being sold out of your favorite wine.
Now?
Distance. Long distance.
Long distance really fucking sucked.
Especially when you were stuck working with your ex and - not that it was a competition - but you’d totally won the breakup. Joel was so much hotter than your ex it wasn’t even funny.
Well, it was kind of funny.
It was also kind of funny how much better he was in bed, even if he had more than a decade on you - and anyone else you’d ever dated, for that matter.
Not to mention the fact that you were fucking crazy about the guy. Even if he was your dad’s best friend and you were trying to keep the fact that you spent half of your visits home to Austin across the street at Joel’s getting absolutely destroyed a secret.
“Your daddy’s gonna fuckin’ knock the shit out of me one of these days,” Joel muttered, still panting for breath as he lay next to you on the living room floor on your last visit. “I’ll deserve it, too, all the things I do to you…”
“All the things I beg you to do to me you mean,” you smirked a little.
“Fuckin’ dirty girl,” he growled.
You glanced at him, wicked gleam in your eye.
“Only for you,” you smirked.
“Damn right only for me,” he said, and he was on you again.
Normally, you made it work. You talked every day. The distance had been kind of nice for actually getting to know each other better. You hung out plenty when you visited but there was a limit to just how much you could get away with not being with your parents when visiting your parents. At least not without having an excuse - an excuse that neither you or Joel were ready to give quite yet. And when time was limited and Joel was there, his arms on display in those t-shirts that had to be tailored they fit so goddamn well and his eyes looking at you like he was starving and you were his favorite meal, talking wasn’t always on the top of the list.
You were kind of surprised at how fast he’d become your best friend considering he lived more than 1,000 miles away. You’d become experts at the watch party function on Amazon Video, the two of you regularly watching a movie or working your way through a TV show while video chatting (frequently needing to rewind a few minutes when you got sidetracked talking) and you now had a usual way to set up your tablet at your breakfast bar so it was like the two of you were having dinner together.
This week, however, he’d been all but MIA. He was still texting you periodically - always a good morning and good night and a check in part way through the day to see how things were going - but your usual phone dates had been ditched.
“I’m so sorry, I’m just too slammed tonight,” Joel texted one night, only about 10 minutes before the call was supposed to start. “I have to get this project plan done.”
“It’s pushing 9,” you texted back, trying to not sound like a total ass about it.
“I know,” he replied. “Trust me, I ain’t happy about it either.”
“Have fun with work,” you texted back, grinding your teeth.
You’d checked the group chat you had with your girlfriends and saw where a few of them were going out that night. You put on a cute dress, did your hair and make-up and went to the bar. You took a selfie with one of your friends and cocktail in your hand - your tits looking particularly good in this dress - and posted it to Instagram with the caption “Ladies nights are the best nights.”
Joel texted you 20 minutes later.
“Low blow, Princess.”
You smirked and texted back.
“Don’t know what you mean.”
He’d canceled every other night that week, too. You got the feeling he was keeping something from you and you didn’t like it. You had a three day weekend that weekend and had mentioned maybe coming down to visit weeks ago but Joel had asked you not to.
“Not even really worth the trip,” he said. “Don’t want you goin’ through all that trouble…”
Your boss let you off a few hours early Thursday afternoon and you went home, a little frustrated about the fact that you didn’t have plans for the weekend. You’d been kind of hoping Joel would reach out and see if you wanted to do a movie marathon or something one day but it hadn’t come up. But you’d left the weekend wide open. Like an idiot.
“So stupid,” you muttered, unzipping your skirt and unbuttoning your silky blouse. But when you caught sight of yourself in your full length mirror, you felt… well, like you looked damn good. Your hair and makeup were surprisingly intact after your commute home, the bra you had on was one of your favorites…
You left your thigh high stockings on and slipped your feet back into your heels and you struck a pose in front of the mirror, your shirt open to reveal a glimpse of the black lace bra with matching panties. You snapped the photo and texted it to Joel.
“Hope your day is going well.”
You took off the shirt and turned around in the mirror, so you could see just how well the black lace thong highlighted the shape of your ass. You took a photo of that, too.
“I got off work early,” you typed, sending that photo along, too.
You posed carefully, looking up at the camera almost like you would if you were on your knees in front of him to suck him off, aligning things so he had the perfect view of your cleavage.
“Too bad I don’t have anything to do.”
You took off the bra then and got one of your more… sizable toys from your nightstand, the one that reminded you most of Joel, and you lay down on the bed. You carefully arranged things and framed up the shot, making it so he could just see the burgundy tint of your lips, the way your necklace fell into the hollow of your throat and the toy set between your breasts.
“Figured I’d take care of things myself since you’ve got better things to do.”
You tossed your phone to the corner of the bed and slipped off your panties, fantasizing about everything Joel had done to you the last time you’d come to visit, fucking yourself hard but not feeling particularly satisfied when you were done.
You sighed and cleaned the toy and put on some leggings and a tank top with a hoodie you’d stolen from Joel and realized that you’d spent the last two hours in your own head with your fingers rubbing your clit and you had no idea what to have for dinner. You retrieved your phone from where it had gotten kicked onto the floor mid-orgasm and realized you had a bunch of missed calls and texts from Joel.
“Going better now, Princess,” the first text said. “But take it easy on me, heading into a meeting.”
“Oh shit,” you winced. He was probably somewhere without great signal, everything was showing as sent on your end by the time he started replying.
It only got worse from there.
“Baby, you are sexy as hell but now ain’t the time,” the next text said. “Please listen and cool it, I have to present.”
“What did I just say?”
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?”
“ANSWER YOUR DAMN PHONE PRINCESS.”
You checked your voicemail, putting it on speaker as you winced.
“YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!”
Yeah, you had. That… that was exactly what you’d done.
“I get that you’re pissed at me right now, Baby, but fuckin’ hell, you can’t just do that shit! Next time I see you, you’re gonna regret that.”
You tried to call him back and apologize - or at least explain - but it went straight to voicemail.
“Apparently not that important to you,” you muttered, tapping the phone on your hand and going to find a movie to watch, one that Joel would hate so you’d keep yourself busy and not feel like you were missing out.
When you started feeling hungry, you went in and ordered enough Indian food on Uber Eats to last you the weekend and went to pick the next movie to watch. But it was only about 15 minutes after you’d ordered that there was a knock on your door. You frowned.
“That was suspiciously fast,” you muttered, going for the door and not bothering to look through the peep hole.
But it wasn’t the delivery guy standing there.
It was Joel.
“What!” You yelped, launching yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck. He caught you, his arms going around your waist as you kissed all the parts of his skin you could reach. “What the hell are you doing in Chicago? I thought you were busy this weekend…”
“Tryin’ to surprise you,” he muttered into your shoulder. “Been tryin’ to cram a week’s worth of work into four days so I could see you…”
“Joel!” You leaned back from him and he set you back on the ground. “You should have said something!”
“Now where’s the fun in that?” He asked as you pulled him into your apartment. He set his bag down on the couch and draped his jacket on the back of one of your bar stools. “Now, you really sittin’ up here thinkin’ I was losin’ interest? That why you sent me those photos?”
“Maybe…” you said, sheepish.
“How about I go fix that,” he said, tugging you tight to his body and kissing you deeply.
You pulled him back to your bedroom, pulling at his clothes on the way. He slid the hoodie off of you and frowned.
“This mine?” He asked. You shrugged, smiling a little. “Been lookin’ for that.”
“I look better in it,” you replied.
He laughed.
“Well that’s the fuckin’ truth.”
He pushed you back onto the bed and immediately pulled your leggings down your body, tossing them on the chair in the corner before he all but dove between your legs, spreading your thighs wide.
“Look at this,” he ran a thumb over your wet slit. “My messy girl, takin’ matters into her own hands…”
You whimpered.
“Thinkin’ you might have gotten your fill earlier,” he said, brushing your clit with his thumb. “Thinkin’ this should all be for me, now. Since you sent me all those dirty pictures and I haven’t had a chance to take care of a damn thing. Been hard for you for fuckin’ hours…”
He licked along your seam, from your grasping entrance up to your clit before thrusting his tongue inside you, the move harsh and insistent.
“Joel!” You gasped, your hand going to his head, fingers digging into his curls. He just moaned against you, his thumb working your clit as he devoured you.
He knew exactly how to get you off and he did everything to bring you right to the edge before pulling back again and again, your whole body tense and needy. You whimpered and keened as he unzipped his jeans, pulling his dripping length out and rubbing it while kneeling between your thighs. You squirmed, trying to find something - anything - to give you some friction.
“Havin’ problems there, Princess?” He asked, his mouth shiny with your slick. “Wonder what that’s like, bein’ stuck lookin’ at exactly what you want and not in a position to do a damn thing about it…”
“I’m sorry,” you moaned. “I didn’t get your texts until after all mine had sent, I swear I wasn’t trying to be THAT mean!”
“Oh, so just a little mean?” He asked, lowering himself so his cock was brushing against your sex. “That all?”
“Just…” you panted and rocked your hips, trying to get him to properly fuck you. “Just wanted to make you want me…”
“Always wantin’ you,” he said, snapping his hips forward and filling you totally in one move. You gasped, your cunt starting to squeeze and pulse around him. He grunted at the feeling of it, one of his hands flying to your clit, working you through your orgasm. “Fuck, that’s right Baby, take it…”
“Fuck, Joel,” you moaned, almost crying with the force of your orgasm.
He started to fuck you - really fuck you - before it was over, your body immediately tightening around him again, not even a second of relief from your release.
“Told you you were gonna regret it,” his voice was harsh, rough. He lifted your legs so your ankles were by his shoulders, running his hands over your calves and thighs, getting even deeper into you with his new angle. “Fuck you feel good, not gonna last long…”
He drove into you hard and unrelenting, like he was trying to push himself fully into your overwrought body. One of his arms wrapped around your thighs, holding the backs of them to his stomach, while the other had reached between your legs to work your clit and you cried out at the contact, the feeling almost too much, your body almost too tight around him.
“Gonna cum on those perfect fuckin’ tits,” he panted. “Make sure you know how much I fuckin’ want you, even when I’m not around…”
You came around him with a pathetic cry and he fucked you through this orgasm, too, before he all but ripped himself from your body and leaned over you, jerking his cock with your slick just twice before spilling himself over your chest. He collapsed beside you, panting for breath.
“Jesus Christ,” you said once you were able to form words again.
“Missed you too, Baby,” he said, still a little breathless.
You smiled a little.
“So you’re saying that if I want you to come and fuck me senseless, all I have to do is send you nudes when you’re busy?” You asked, turning your head to look at him. He looked back, glaring at you.
“Swear to God Princess…” he looked like a predator about to pounce and you felt the heat that you’d thought you’d exhausted gather low in your stomach again when there was a knock at your front door.
You laughed.
“That would be dinner,” you said. “Would you mind getting that? I’m a bit of a mess…”
He pulled his pants on and grabbed his shirt.
“Saved by bell,” he winked. “But I think we’re gonna need to finish this conversation later…”
You smiled.
“Looking forward to it.”
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