Green
Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI)
Chapter Summary: Jackson believes in a green future, which includes marijuana. You like to get high. Tonight, Joel joins you and you get to treat him like he treats you.
Chapter Warnings: Smut, marijuana use, soft dom reader, sub Joel, m receiving oral, unprotected p in v, riding Joel's thick thigh, you bite Joel's stomach (because it has to be done), Joel watching himself masturbate in your mirror, Joel drinks water out of your hands.
Words: 5,100
Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader
Series Summary: Life in Jackson is quite comfortable and simple for you. You love teaching your students and running your library, you love the comforts of living here, perfectly complacent with the company of your two cats, guitar, tattered CD book, and a few friends. You like comfortable and simple, though the feelings you feel whenever you see Joel Miller are quite the opposite. Once you meet him, it seems like he needs you in his life as much as you need him.
Reader Background: Reader is in her 30's and comes from Colorado. No other physical descriptors besides her having long enough hair to put up.
A/N: Happy 4/20! Wanted to give you another entry akin to Golden Walkway, a little peek into the future again of these two.
Masterlist
Playlist
Times never change instead of hiding your illicit use from your parents, now you hide it from a teenager. Joel and you always going to your your house so you can get high, just in case Ellie needs something. Can’t be a bad influence.
“So you never really smoked much?” you ask as you pull the box of papers and weed out of the drawer before sitting down on your couch. You lean over your coffee table removing its contents and start to build your joint.
“Mm, never really was my thing, too risky if I got caught growing up in Texas during the Regan years. Had football eligibility to worry about ‘n then Sarah came, just never was the time for me.” Joel says as he leans back into your armchair his brown eyes intently watching your actions. You begin to crumble weed up and place it on your rolling paper.
“Ah, makes sense. It’s good for me when my nerves really get to me,” you begin to roll your joint, “helps kinda soften the harsh lines of reality a lot. Makes my body and my mind a little freer.”
You lick your cigarette closed and admire your handiwork, welcoming the anticipation of being with Joel while you’re stoned.
You grab a match, strike it against the box and spark your joint, rotating it in your mouth to light it up. Joel chuckles as you inhale the first hit.
“What’s so funny?” You ask in a cloud of your smoke as you exhale.
“Nothing. Maybe I should get high. Making me hard just watching you do this.”
“Oh yeah?” You sit back.
“Yeah, maybe I should start. Never was one for smoking though.”
“Hm, I can help. I can just blow the smoke into your mouth if you want to try it.” You lean forward wanting him to take you up on your offer.
“Sounds good sweetheart,” he nods and pats his lap. “Come sit with me, have nowhere to be tomorrow.”
You rest the joint between your lips, stand and grab the ashtray. Your bare feet pad across the plush carpet of the area rug as you walk over to Joel.
“Hi,” you smile out with a small puff of smoke.
“You look so cute like this, little cigarette sticking out of your mouth, eyes all cloudy and happy. Love it when my girl is happy.”
You giggle at his compliment as you lift your leg up to rest on the chair, your foot tightly fitting within what little room is left on the seat between Joel’s thick thighs. He looks up at you, his mouth slightly agape his usual furrowed brow a lot less creased, more relaxed.
“I am happy,” you answer as his hands begin to massage your calf. “You look a lot less grumpier than you normally look. That makes me happy.”
“Oh really?”
“Yep,” you say before inhaling another hit.
“Why don’t you make me happier and sit on my lap, that’d make me really happy darlin’.”
Turning your head to the side you blow out a plume of smoke as you place yourself on Joel’s lap, knees bent against his thighs and the armrests. You can feel the denim covered shape of his half hard cock against your cotton shorts. Your tits underneath your faded and holey t-shirt are right at Joel’s eye level.
“S’nice,” he says staring forward at your chest.
“My eyes are up here Joel,” you begin to laugh at your own joke, as you take another hit. You’re so high and happy, you’ve never been stoned and in love, it feels amazing.
“I’d tell you to knock it off, but your whole body’s shaking against me ’n your tits are bouncing in my face,” Joel grins as he kisses a breast through your shirt.
Fuck, now that feels amazing.
“Hold this,” you direct, handing him the joint.
He takes it between his fingers and watches as you lean back and remove your shirt. His eyes widening as he concentrates on your actions, so much for relaxed Joel. He holds up the joint, still in his hands, to your lips.
“Take a hit baby,” his voice gravels out, his cock hardening underneath, “‘n lemme have some.”
You inhale and move your mouth to his, forming a tight seal between the two of you. Joel welcomes the smoke and sucks in as you blow out.
You grab the joint from him as he exhales, a white cloud of smoke floating above the two of you. You take another pull off the joint, your body already feeling much lighter, your brain less complicated.
“Can I have that back?” Joel asks. “Want to do the same you did for me.”
You smile a silent agreement and hand him the joint, now a short stub. He brings it up to his mouth, holding it between his thumb and pointer, his large fingers making it practically disappear save for the glowing orange embers that light as he takes a hit. He looks so fucking tempting as his cheeks slightly puff out. Everything Joel Miller does is hot, but the way he drags on a joint, his pillowy lips wrapping around the white paper, the way his broad shoulders rise as he breathes in, this might just be the hottest you’ve ever seen him. When will you ever get tired of looking at this man?
You bring your lips to his and he exhales into your mouth. Oh, this is the best way to get high. You pull away, releasing the smoke from your lungs.
“‘Bout shot, don’t you think?” Joel raises the joint up and looks at it.
“It’s shot,” you grab the ash tray from the table and hand it to him. He stubs out the joint and puts it back on the table.
He looks at you, his eyes heavier than usual, a little red and glazed. You’ve seen his eyes glazed over with lust numerous times, this glaze is a little lighter, a little happier. He sits back and you move farther up his lap so you can move a finger up to pet the smoothness of the little heart patch in his beard.
“How are you feeling?” You ask as Joel’s hands trace up and down your back.
“Good, real good,” a deep exhale out of his lips answers.
“Relaxed?” You ask as your finger moves to brush back and forth across his lips.
“Mm.”
You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this free before. A light smile, half shut eyes staring back at you, his whole face more relaxed. He looks good this way, you love when he’s happy and relaxed, you’ve never met anybody more deserving.
“Feels good,” Joel says as you rub your finger across his soft lower lip. A deep breath leaves his half parted lips, the air blowing against your finger. “Real good.”
“Good,” your hand moves to trace around his top lip, the hair of his mustache bristling against your digit as you move it back and forth. “I like making you feel good.”
You feel the the lines around his lips rise as he smiles at you. “You’re s’good at it baby.”
“Yeah? What do you like the most?”
“Hard t’pick. Love the way your eyes always blink as you cum for me, can always tells how good you’re feelin’ by how big your eyes get right before. Love the little gasp you always make when I start fuckin’ you. Love that you grab for my hands at any chance you get, like you need to touch me as much as you can. Love that you always need me.” The last sentence coming out the softest.
“I do need you,” you confess, “all the time, not even for all of the you know, sex stuff.”
“I know baby,” he hugs you against his chest, “I need you too… so much.”
“But, I do also really need you for the sex stuff, you know?"
Joel’s chuckle vibrates against you. “My girl’s funny, real funny.”
“But really, what do you need tonight Joel?” You pull away from his chest and look him in the eyes. You love it when he compliments you, you love it when he calls you his girl. You love that he needs you just as much as you need him.
“I need you to tell me what you want from me tonight. Make me yours. Talk to me like I talk t’ya.” Joel’s eyes staring into yours as they widen with his admission. “I’m yours baby.”
A bit of trepidation lands in your brain. Joel’s always the one to depend on to chart the stars of your intimacy. He’s so good at predicting what you want, you let him navigate. The thoughts are silenced once you feel his hands move along your hips and thighs. You can tell he wants you to do this for him. You want Joel to experience what you feel after he’s done with you. You want him to believe in you like you believe in him. You sit up higher on him, feeling braver and bolder. Ready to bless him for his confession.
“Okay. I’m going to get up, walk to the kitchen to get something to drink, and when I come back, I want you to stand in front of my mirrored wall over there. Keep your clothes on.”
You’re shocked by the confidence in your voice. Joel as well, his hands pause their movement as you speak. He stares at you, his mouth slightly open in surprise.
You rise up off of Joel, folding your arms across your naked chest. “Understand?”
“Y-y-yes,” Joel stutters.
“Good,” you wink and turn towards the kitchen, your confident steps leaving a bewildered Joel in your chair. You’ve never acted like this, your brain swirling with ideas of what you want to do, what you want to say, how you want to make him feel.
You grab two glasses out of your cupboard and fill them with water. Your mouth is parched, you’re sure Joel’s is too. You walk back to your living room, your courage building with each step closer. You know you’re ready when you see Joel standing as instructed in front of your mirror.
“Hi handsome,” you walk to stand behind him, still topless and only in your shorts, his eyes moving from looking at his own reflection to your chest. You wouldn’t expect less from him, you love how he looks at you.
“Hi,” Joel whispers. You think he’s a little nervous, a little excited, he probably feels exactly how you feel.
“I’m going to watch you watch yourself get undressed. I want you to listen to me and follow my directions, okay?”
“Yes,” his simple answer resolutely spoken as you put the waters down and turn the lamp on besides you, the light bathing both of you in a smoldering golden hue. You want to fully be able to watch Joel do what you have planned for him.
“Good, I don’t want to hear much from you, okay? I’m the one talking.”
You like this feeling, you especially like the serious nod Joel gives you through the mirror.
“Take your shirt off.”
You watch Joel’s hands move to the hem of his t-shirt and lift it over his head.
“Give it to me,” you step forward and extend a hand out.
The soft gray fabric is still warm with Joel’s body heat as it hits your hand. You bring it to your nose and inhale his scent.
“You smell so good all the time. I love the scent of you.” You take one last sniff before putting his shirt on, his smell now encompassing you.
“Wh—“
“Quiet,” you interrupt Joel’s protest, “I don’t want to hear anything out of you, I want to smell like you and wear your shirt while I make you feel good.”
He looks a little annoyed, you like that.
“Look at your chest. It’s perfect. I love how your shoulders are so wide and so strong. I love how your arms are muscular and yet they’re so soft when I rest my head against them. I love how soft your stomach has gotten meaning you’re well fed and healthy. You like the praise baby?”
Joel nods as his eyes darken hearing you call him one of the pet names he always calls you.
“Unbutton and unzip your pants, but don’t take them off.” Your pussy getting wetter at the thought of the sights that you’re about to see, all directed by you. All broadcast on your mirror.
Joel nods, as he unbuttons his jeans, his fingers move to his zipper and pulls it down. You love that he never wears underwear when he comes over. You love how you can see the trail of hair from his belly button down to his bush. He’s the perfect amount of hairy. He’s the perfect amount of manly. He’s just fucking perfect.
“Good. You’re thirsty right?” He nods. You lean over to the table and pick up a glass of water. “Drink all of this. Want to watch your neck move as you swallow it down.”
Joel takes the glass and brings it to his lips, his eye contact not breaking with yours through the reflection. He takes a large gulp brows wrinkling with seriousness for the task at hand, no matter how significant or insignificant it is. It’s so Joel.
“I love watching you drink. I love how small the mug looks in your hand when you drink your coffee in the morning. I love how you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand after downing a whole glass of water when you’re hot. I love how gently form your lips around a glass of whiskey.” You finish your praise as he empties the glass, taking it from him and placing it on the table.
“Good. Feel better?”
He nods.
“Take your pants off,” you think of what Joel would say in this moment. “Lemme see all of you.”
He smirks as he starts to move his jeans down his hips, he knows you’re going to love this part. His cock springs out as it’s freed, fully erect and throbbing, you knew you’d get him good and hard with your attitude. He bends over to shuck his jeans fully off, kicking them to the side, and when he stands up, shoulders back, dick hard and ready to follow your instructions, you almost fall to your knees.
“God, you’re so fucking hot, baby,” you breathe out. His smirk still remains, he knows what he does to you.
Your eyes roam his body, he’s so large and so thick, his body screams protector. He’s your protector. He provides for you. You love that you get to love him and make him feel this way.
“I’m thirsty, why don’t you hand me my glass?” You love how seriously he follows your commands, like it’s the only thing that matters in the world. You love how powerful it makes you feel to see Joel readily do your every request.
Joel turns towards the table and picks up the glass, handing it to you.
“Thank you.”
Another nod.
You quickly drink the water down, save for the last quarter of it. “You’re still thirsty, aren’t you?”
This time it’s not just one slow nod from Joel, it’s three quick nods. He’s thirsty.
“Then come stand here in front of me.”
You’ve enjoyed watching him from a couple of feet back, standing far enough to be able to see all of him in the mirror. Now that he’s right in front of you though, this is how you like him the most. Right beside you.
You empty the rest of the water into your mouth, your cheeks swelling out with the amount you’re holding. You bring your palms up to your mouth and cup them together. Joel begins to breathe heavily as he watches you spit the water into your makeshift hand bowl.
“Now, drink it up,” you order.
He moves so fast, so eager to please. Joel’s head quickly craning down as his brown eyes look up at you. Your heart begins to race as his tongue comes out of his mouth and begins to lap up the water out of your hand. “I love how you’re looking up at me, you look at me the same way when you eat me out.”
Joel grunts as he leans further forward and starts to suck the water up from your hand, never breaking eye contact. The groove of his dimple getting deeper as his cheeks hollow and he sucks up all of the water.
Now you wear Joel’s cocky smirk just like his shirt. You get to know him like he knows you, you get to play with his body like he plays with yours.
“Very good.” You move your hands to wrap around his erection, the slickness of the water allowing you to easily stroke him. A gruff breath leaves Joel’s mouth, the air landing against your face. You only leave your hands on him for a couple pumps, just enough until he begins to arch his back. His eyes widen as you remove your hands, a small “mmf” is let out of his pursed lips.
“I know, I know, I know you want more. You’ll get it soon. You’re being real well behaved for me, aren’t you?”
Another nod. Joel still hasn’t spoken a word, you miss his voice but you also like to watch him challenge himself to stay quiet.
“Face the mirror again Joel.”
He likes it when you say his name, he’s told you so many times how he likes to hear your voice say his name.
“Touch yourself for me Joel.”
His heavy eyes slowly shut as he bites his bottom lip with a moan, he liked that… a lot. He opens his eyes and with a look of determination, he spits in his hand before moving it down and gripping his shaft as he looks at you for his next command.
“Stroke yourself for me.”
He begins to slowly pump himself, savoring and watching himself in the reflection. His gaze anchoring in on pleasuring himself.
You wonder when the last time he did this was.
“When’s the last time you made yourself cum?” His movements falter as he looks up at you and takes in your question. “Go ahead, you can talk, tell me.”
“That last night you were painting f’me,” a half smile shows up on his face as he begins to stroke again.
Now you’re the one who only nods, your words lost at his confession. “Go on,” you muster up. You need to hear more.
“Went to bed that night, ’n all I could see was your pretty eyes lookin’ up at me, how you looked in those overalls, I felt like I could still feel your lips on mine.” His strokes getting quicker, his hand pausing as he twists his hand around his tip. “Was so hard for you, had to take care of things before I could fall asleep.”
Your whole body shivers, his words making your pussy begin to drip out onto your shorts. The look of his face as he recalls his memories. Those words added to all of his others that prove to you again that you have Joel’s heart, mind and body. He is yours.
“God. Th—that’s good,” you breathe out, your eyes widening when you watch him bite his lip as he squeezes his cock. He has you flustered, and he knows, his mouth grinning into the signature cocky smirk he gets whenever you get like this. As if his sense of self blooms whenever he makes your heart race.
You can’t allow him this pleasure over you, you’re the one in control tonight. You remind yourself that this is what Joel wants. You steel yourself and stand a little taller.
“Stop,” you bark out.
He obeys, mouth slacking open in shock at your raised voice. His hand unwrapping from around himself.
“Good job, I think you were getting a little too comfortable, weren’t you?”
Joel just stares at you, seems he forgot to nod.
“I can’t let you have the power tonight, can I? Acknowledge me Joel.”
“N—no,” an actual stutter from Joel Miller’s mouth. Not a grunt, not a short one word answer, an actual nervous stutter.
“That’s right. Now, I think you’ve had too much fun putting on a show for me. Go sit in the middle of the couch.”
He nods, his broad frame passes by you, he doesn’t even take the time to look at you.
You follow behind and wait until he takes a seat. You love seeing Joel on your couch, in your bed, using one of your bowls to eat oatmeal out of. You love seeing him in your space, all comfortable and domestic, but seeing him now naked on your couch, his hard cock sitting straight up, his large hands sitting atop his strong thighs, shoulders taking up most of the backrest of his seat, sitting ready to listen to your commands. This is how you really like to see him. He’s fucking gorgeous.
“So, you had your fun with your body, I want to have my fun with your body,” you stand over him. Now your body gets to loom over his.
You bring the collar of Joel’s shirt up to your nose, inhale deeply and moan. “Have I told you before how much I love how your smell? Sometimes I’ll be wearing one of your shirts to bed I’ll smell your scent on it and it’ll make me wet while I’m trying to go to sleep.” The sound from Joel’s mouth makes you bolder. “One night, I might just knock on your door, in only your shirt and my jacket, make you help me take care of what smelling you does to me. Would you like that?”
Joel shudders and furiously nods.
“Ohh, had a feeling you would,” you chuckle as you remove his shirt off of you. “I’m going to do something I've been wanting to do, okay?”
A nod, a groan, and a sigh now. The more reactions you get at once, the more you know how good you’re doing.
You pull down your shorts, and kick them aside. His fingers grip into his thighs, his forearms straining at the sight of you. He’s going through it.
“Can you see me glisten for you baby?” You ask as you lift your foot onto the couch cushion and snake your hand down in between your legs. “See how wet I got watching you touch yourself for me?” You take a finger and run it across your folds gathering your wetness. You hold it up for Joel, his eyes glued to your finger. “Open your mouth.”
He listens. You slide your finger into his mouth, his lips forming around it, a low moan vibrating against it.
“Put your hands on the couch, you can’t touch me, you can only watch. Okay?”
Joel obeys. He still sucks your finger as you straddle his thigh. His skin radiates heat against you once you place your wet pussy on it. You’ve wanted to do this since you saw his bare legs for the first time, his thighs are so muscular and yet so supple, much like the rest of his features. Joel groans as you begin to ride his thigh, rubbing yourself back and forth against his skin.
“You like how wet my pussy feels on your thigh?” You pull your finger out of his mouth. “Answer me Joel. Want to hear your voice.”
“Yes.”
“What do you like?”
“Your wet pussy on my th— I like your wet pussy on my thigh,” his low cadence and the pressure against your aching cunt pushing you close to your orgasm.
“I’m going to make myself cum on your thigh, okay? I’m so close.” You begin to grind your hips down on his his thigh, putting the perfect amount of friction against your clit.
Your hands splay against Joel’s chest, feeling his breaths and his moans rumble against your palms.
“I’m gonna cum on your thigh Joel.” You grab and pull on his chest hair as your climax reaches you, cresting over and spilling onto Joel’s thigh as you grind against it. Joel’s eyes boring into you looking forlorn and tortured that he can’t touch you as you cum on him.
You rest your head against his shoulder as you catch your breath. You need to recover quickly, you’re ready to ride him.
Joel grumbles as you stand back up.
“Would you look at that? Look down baby, look how wet I got your thigh.” You place your hands on his thighs, a hand resting in the puddle of your slick left on his skin. You lean forward as he looks down and nibble the bare skin of his heart patch before licking your way down his neck and chest. “Should probably clean that up, huh?” You ask as your rest your lips against the plush of his belly before gently biting it.
He groans as you move your mouth down, bypassing his hard cock to the side. You stick your tongue out and lick a long stripe up his thigh tasting yourself as you clean his skin. His breathing turns more labored as he watches you lick yourself up.
“Mm, wonder how I’d taste licking my cum off your cock?” You ask, nuzzling your head into his crotch, his hard cock throbbing against your cheek.
His hips jut as you turn your head and kiss the shaft of him.
“You’re going to cum fast for me, aren’t you?” You leave a kiss on his shaft higher than your last one.
“I love how hard you always cum for me,” another kiss moving your way up his hardness.
“I love the way you fuck my mouth while you cum down my throat,” another kiss.
“I love the way my name sounds as you chant it when I make your legs shake,” another kiss right under his tip.
“I love how your cum tastes as I lick it from my lips,” another kiss on his tip, tasting the precum collected on it.
“Fuck,” he finally utters, not being able to hold back as you lick along the trail of where you just kissed him.
“Shhhh,” you silence against the soft skin of his firmness. “I think it’s about time for me to fuck you, before you get any more ideas about talking.”
Another deep exhale from him, his nose flaring in frustration. You fucking love this.
“Put your hands on the top of your head, and don’t you dare lower them. Don’t touch me, okay?”
Joel nods raising his hands as you plant yourself back on the couch, straddling his legs. His eyes follow your body, his brows a bit more furrowed now.
You hover your pussy over his cock, leaving enough space between the two of you that if he really wanted, he could raise his hips and stick his cock in, but he doesn’t. He wants to do good for you.
“Open your mouth,” you angle your head forward, your lips right in front of his. Joel’s mouth opens, his heavy breathing hitting you in the face, as you lick into his mouth.
You swirl your hips over his cock slowly lowering yourself on him, you’re so soaked for him he easily slides into you.
A long sigh escapes the back of his throat as you begin to ride him. You pull back from his mouth and rest your hands against his chest. His hands still sit on top of his head, you glance up and see how he’s grabbing at his hair in exasperation.
He watches as you move your hands from his chest to yours, cupping your breasts and playing with your nipples.
“Like watching me touch my tits like the way you do? Like how I pinch and pull my nipples like you?”
High pitched moans and groans of frustration leave his mouth. Joel Miller is whimpering.
“Shhhh, shhh, I know baby. Now quiet. Want to hear my wet pussy ride you, stay quiet,” you say grabbing his jaw and pushing his mouth shut.
You begin fucking him harder, the sound of your wet cunt bouncing on him and his whimpers the only sounds in the room. You lean forward and rest your head in the juncture between his head and shoulder. You slam yourself up and down on him, the rapidness of your movements matching the rapidness of your heart as you bring yourself close to your orgasm.
Your back straightens as you place your hands on his biceps, staring in his big brown eyes as your body snaps, your pussy clutching his cock as you cum around Joel. He bites his bottom lip fighting his orgasm for as long as he can. His biceps straining against your grasp as you feel his body begin to quake.
“Clooooose,” he husks. You slip out of him, moving quickly on shaky legs through the aftershocks of your orgasm kneeling down in front of him. His hands are still in his hair as he looks down at you, watching you seal your mouth over him. You bob your head up and down on him as he cums down your throat.
You swallow all of him down as he chants your name. His hands lower, resting against the hollows of your cheeks as you still keep his softening cock in your mouth.
You stare up at him, his hair left awry and twisted from his hands, eyes wide and still blown out as he blinks down at you, his chest rising and falling still catching his breath. He looks at you, like you’re the only thing in this world. You are the center of his universe.
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I can imagine preggo wife literally talking and talking and talking in the middle of a movie and gets offended and leaves when Joel tells her to quiet down
Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife : Yapper
notes: Oh I had fun writing this! no warnings (maybe some Fugitive and Raiders spoilers), Enjoy!
- - - -
Joel’s pretty excited for movie night. It’s one of the few films the two of you don’t argue over and can pretty much watch the entire way through without disruption.
Or at least, it used to be.
Joel settles against the couch armrest with his feet propped up, knees bent slightly so you have room to sit in front. He’s got any snack you could think of within an arm reach away, and he’s got the title on pause so you can scooch your fat booty and big belly comfortably. Usually takes about 15 minutes of squirming, smacking his chest to “fluff” it up, adding a pillow at his crotch, then taking it away because you like his hard cock there instead, elbow in his groin and then his knee, then you gotta get up to pee before starting the whole process over.
“OK Im ready!” You say after 15 minutes on the dot, snuggling close to him with the back of your head rested against the crook of his neck.
He finally hits play, and the Lucasfilm logo flashes across the screen. The tropical forest and ominous music plays as the familiar font of Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark fade on to the screen.
“Joel. Joel. Hey Joel.”
“Y-yes?”
“Did you know Indiana was named after George Lucas dog? Who also was the physical inspiration for chewy?” You ask rhetorically.
It takes him a second to understand you’re asking him a question. “What?”
“Chewbacca! From Star Wars!”
“Oh ok neat,” he says with some enthusiasm, but quick to end it and get back to watching the movie—
“Yeah also Sean Connery is also apparently—well guess how much older he is to Harrison Ford.”
“Um—I don’t—I don’t know.” Joel says slowly, watching as Indy carefully removes the sand from the pouch and weighs it to the gold idol.
“C’mon, guess!”
“I really don’t know, can we—“
“12 years older than Harrison in Last Crusade! My mom was like ‘WHAT no way’ and I was like ‘Yes way’ and she was like ‘He's his father and he's got all that white in his hair and receding hairline’ and I was like ‘Joel's only in his late 30s and he's got white in his beard.’”
Joel can’t hear a damn thing happening on screen except the shouts about hating a pet snake named Reggie. “Wha—“
“Not that you look anything like Sean Connery in Last Crusade. Maybe in like Bond —oof he was the hottest Bond. Plus you got like a receding beard-line with all the patches, I don’t know, but my mom was like ‘Ya know Joel's got more white hair lately since you've been pregnant’ and I was like ‘Nah uh’ and she was like ‘Ya huh’ and I was like ‘Huh I wonder why that is…?’ Anyway but nope only 12 years between him and Ford—“
Joel turns to look at you with a frown, a bit confused and amazed at how you have so much to say, right now, oblivious as ever.
It doesn’t phase your rambling one bit: “—Like damn, but you know Harrison Ford has always been handsome. But like in the bad boy kind of way, not like handsome upstanding like Christopher Reeves? When I saw The Fugitive, I was like ‘oooohhhh I'll be his wife now’ hahaha! no no I’m sorry, he’s famous and I’m not so that’s why I married you, but that's such a fall film don't you think? Minus the murder and betrayal and fucking Dr Charles Nickles like was he British or not? He was in and out of an accent the whole time? Didn't make sense to me but yeah, it's just such a fall Cozy film.”
Joel looks back at the screen and realizes Marion is already being cornered by the Nazi creep: “Ah huh—honey—“
“OH! I Love her song! It’s kind of like Leia and Han’s from Empire except the last notes are different, like it goes do doooooo instead of da dat dada daaaaaaa, That’s just John William’s for ya, but you’d never notice they were so similar!”
Joel opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out as you continue:
“—Also I know you said my mom made good apple pie but I really wanna try to make it because I want you to like mine more, so I need you to get some apples and pie crust and butter and stuff from the store, I’ll make a list so you can get it. They said we need ground cinnamon but I think ours expired like 5 years ago so don’t forget that. And then I'm gonna tell you how to slice the apples since I can't handle sharp objects and then oh I need you to get the mixer from the top shelf and then you have to mix it all together and slice the top with like little heart patterns and then put it in the oven n stuff ‘cause it's hot and I don't wanna burn OH and that reminds me—!”
“BABE!”
“Hmm? yes?” You ask with a innocent smile.
“Let's try to be quiet and watch the movie ok?”
He offers a gentle smile and nods, pointing towards the TV again and settling to watch it with his beautiful wife.
His very very very unhappy wife. Your eyes haven’t left his, face now downturned in such a scowl, he should be shitting his pants.
You roll your jaw at him once, teeth grinding against one another with slitted, murderous eyes. Joel gulps, too afraid to glance back at you again. His eyes are wide staring at the commotion on the television but, now in your deadly silence, he can’t seen to focus on it at all.
Instead of saying anything, you roll polly up to your feet, arms crossed over your chest defensively as you utter a loud “Hmph!” before storming away from the living room.
He’ll have to deal with groveling tomorrow morning when you might be a little more welcoming. But on the bright side, he’s got way more room to spread out on the couch and he can hear the movie much better now!
.........
He switches it off and runs upstairs to get on his knees by your side of the bed, begging for your forgiveness and promises of a Clyde's milkshake to go.
- - - -
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❝UH-OH, THERE'S A PROBLEM, BABY!❞
♰ OVERTURE — irresponsibility is a vice. but isn't making mistakes a part of human nature? well, let's say something of the similar nature takes place when you're booking hotels for your vacation get-away; a minor mistake ends up in you booking a love-making hotel instead of a regular, kid-friendly one. how do they react?
♰ FEATURING — all sumeru men.
♰ NOTES — guys help i don't know how to write al haitham but i tried😭suggestive, flirty and spicy like i like it <3 ngl though this is just peak rizz all the way lmao🤭
wanderer retains his analytical gaze from before, going through his mini bag with a slightly pissed off look on his features.
his indifference is so baffling that you're left with the tiniest suspicion that in his quest to find his phone's charger, he hasn't even listened to what you had to say at all. and with the lingering thought you poke the side of his arm, carefully examining his features to ensure you could shut up before the visage of anger overtook.
'did you listen, love?', you call out gently, in a soft voice, voice barely above a whisper and he breaks out of his reverie, looking up at you with a distracted gaze.
'oh, yeah, i did.' he goes back to his bag as he sorts the wires out and nods as he speaks with nonchalance, 'you accidentally booked the wrong hotel? and it's quite expensive so we must stay here for the vacations,'
you are quick to nod, 'yeah, that. i'm really sorry, i should have let you book the hotel and reservations. i really just wanted to help—'
he rolls his eyes with the most amount of nonchalance he had ever mustered before snatching the keys to the room from your hands and quickly opening the door.
he pulls the bags in, and allows you to rest on the bed (and ponder what he about to say next, or rather, what he didn't say at all).
but he is quick to kill your overthinking state, passing you a thoughtful look.
'i mean, we didn't come for a whole vacation for me to not have any fun at all. booking such a hotel...' he looks around with a smirk, before meeting your eyes again, 'is only going to make everything all the more easier, no?'
and in your flustered state, red with embarrassment and looking away with a shy expression, you do not expect it when he pins you to the bed with a sharp push.
'you would have had to keep your mouth shut, wouldn't you, dove? at least you can scream to your heart's content here.'
cyno... has few words to speak. he looks up at you, familiar with the name of the love hotel. when your eyes meet, he almost laughs at the furious blush around your ears and then shakes his head with a sigh.
'a minor mistake, yet a common one indeed.'
'i'm sorry,' you say, voice barely audible against the loud of the hotel's entry.
no doubt—the hotel was more fancy than the imagination could entirely comprehend, and affordable too at that! nothing off the charts, and cyno trusted your sense of aesthetics too. with a swimming pool, luxurious king sized beds, an indoor club and even an indoor arcade of it's own, it was an obvious choice for you.
considering how excited you were back then, on second thought, maybe you shouldn't actually do things when you're too happy; you give yourself a mental note.
when cyno begins slinging the bag on his side and taking the trolley bag, you hold his hand in a hesitant motion; he turns to you with a confused gaze, brows lifted in an investigating gesture.
'let's go somewhere else, please.'
your words are something he has rehearsed in his head thrice, already. and he smiles when he realizes that he was right on point with his intuition. of course you would say that; you were a shy, reserved yet dignified person. you wouldn't have ever gone to a love hotel, even if you actually had that intent.
and when you didn't? god forbid, somebody tries to take you there.
but he sees the way you slightly hesitate, trying not to display your discomfort too much and plead to his softer side, trying to convince him somehow. he smiles at your considerate act before chuckling gently; gaze gentle in it's wake.
'we can go somewhere else if you want to, but wouldn't you say quite a lot of money will go to waste?'
you nodded slowly before sighing, shaking your head at your irresponsible behaviour. time to put on the big girl panties and take the blow of the situations that you put yourself in, you thought to yourself.
cyno, however, develops a more mischievous smile.
'what?' you end up asking him, genuinely confused before he whispers in your ear—
'don't be too sad, lovely. we may enter two, but who knows? perhaps we leave three?'
kaveh coughs slightly, trying not to choke on the water that he is drinking when his gaze scans the insides of the hotel.
you shuffle your feet and idly fixate on the newspaper stand in the distance, pretending as though you did not know what was up.
'but you said you booked a slightly wrong hotel? this is slightly wrong?'
you cleared your throat before shrugging, trying to be nonchalant about it. 'i mean, remove the slightly, i guess then.'
'you guess?' kaveh asks with a baffled look on his features, disbelief washing over his features like a tide. he turns to walk towards the receptionist to take the keys with a roll of his eyes, 'god save mankind from whatever you consider as a huge mistake.'
you click your tongue before trotting behind him shyly, less confident now that you finally began looking around and spotted people who were way more comfortable in their skin than you would ever be.
your gaze scans the swimming pool outside, women and men enjoying the sunshine and the water and each others bodies with more enthusiasm than you could imagine.
it is only when a man winks at you with a suggestive smile on his features that you turn to kaveh abruptly, holding the edge of his shirt with a nervous disposition.
he pockets his keys before turning to you with a confused gaze, 'what is it?'
you gulp slightly, shaking your head. 'nothing, uh, a man was staring at me inappropriately.'
he looks at you up and down before letting his lips shape a lop-sided grin, 'want me to help with that problem?'
'how so?'
'people don't set their eyes on land which clearly says—'no trespassing', darling.'
al haitham looks once at the room, thrice at you and then blinks.
'what's wrong?' he asks, as if he genuinely doesn't know what's wrong. you scoff.
'everything.'
he ends up rolling his eyes before pulling you inside the hotel room, softly clicking the door lock before he followed.
'start arranging the clothes; it's a month long vacation, you don't want to spend the entire time struggling to find that one designer—'
'al haitham, come on, stop pretending as though nothing's wrong. let's just go somewhere else!', you say, voice whiny and brows furrowed in an irritated manner. what do you even call this kind of behaviour? how ignorant could he be?
his hands immediately fold, and he almost reminds you of your mom when she is angry; though you maintain your serious look and stand up to him, nonetheless.
'and what's the problem, princess?'
'well!' you say, in an exaggerated motion, pointing to the entire room—
dim lights that were suggestive of only one thing as they sensually illuminated the silk sheets on the round, king sized bed. rose petals decorated the sheets and three drawers begged for your attention at the side of the bed; you didn't even have to go and open them to know what was in there.
'when my family asks me for photos, you expect me to show this to them?'
he shrugs, 'why would you share pictures of the hotel room, of all things?', then he squints, 'i think the problem lies elsewhere.'
you roll your eyes aggressively, although meaning no offense. 'yes, mr genius; this is a love-hotel, that's why i don't want to stay here.'
he clicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek before shaking his head with a sigh, 'well, what's done is done. not like we're not going to have any intimate moment throughout our trip. this makes it all the more easier for us to—'
al haitham doesn't have to think too hard about your response to his obvious flirtation when a pillow hits him square in the face; although he does end up laughing when he stands back up again to find you hiding in the sheets with the now messed up bed due to your recklessness.
'you're still acting like such a kid,' he speaks, teasing you to get a rise out of you before adding on—
'how are you going to take of our kids, at this rate?'
tighnari maintains neutrality to an extent where you begin doubting if he finds this funny, stupid, anger-invoking or worse—all of that, in the same order.
if ambiguity was a maiden, she had draped her thin veil over his expression and aura, hiding his true feelings on the matter. though you do debate whether you're just overthinking, too. honestly, it's just a bit of a mistake, right? and the hotel's quite pretty too—there should be little problems, right?
wrong.
and a simple glance of the room is enough to enlighten you on the matter.
a massive chandelier hangs from the ceiling, and a mirror is attached to the ceiling wall, making everything visible; added for obvious reasons. next to the bedpost are aphrodisiacs and small, colourful packets about the nature of which you don't have to think much.
tighnari who was walking behind you, ends up peaking over from your shoulder and giving you a curious look.
'what is it? come on in,' and he steps inside, pulling the trolley bag with himself, before he turned back again to look at you when you don't budge from your spot.
he titles his head gently, ears moving with the motion, almost making you swoon. 'why aren't you coming in?' his voice comes to you and you sigh, softly ruffling your hair.
'you don't have to pretend, nari.' you say, gaze scanning his features to search for any change in his expression, only to fail when he showed nothing at all. what a master manipulator.
'pretend about what?'
'that you're okay with this.'
silence.
laughter blooms like a lotus opening under the sun, almost catching you off guard at the intensity and beauty of it. you end up blushing, thoroughly unsure of what he truly meant.
'come on idiot,' he calls to you, pulling you inside the room by your wrist, smile never leaving his features.
'you're confused because you can't understand what i really think?', he asks, gaze twinkling with mischeif.
you nod and his grin widens.
'well, darling dearest, i was just excited to try this out, but i couldn't have showed it, could i?', your blush intensifies at that, eyes widening in surprise before he continued.
'i mean, who knows? maybe we stumble across a secret chapter in our novel of love, no?'
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Bestie lestappen with the reverse trope “too many beds” ????? But they still share maybe?? Could be ridiculously funny
From this. Honestly any of these would be hilarious
It's the night of the annual lock-in.
Max never understood the point of them, really.
But it keeps him away from his house and gives him more time with his friends so he's not going to bitch about it.
After the chaos of last year's 'oh let's put a bunch of hormonal, horny, overly sensitive kids in one gym for one whole night and see how it goes', the management seems to have come to their senses and split the crowd up.
Max likes it better like this, 6 to 10 people in one classroom, people you can choose to have with you with all the bonding activities left for the gym.
It comforts him, knowing that he has a place to retreat if it all gets too much.
And it does get too much. But not in the way he expects.
"MAX!!!!!" Oscar yells, snapping him out of his snooze, just in time for Max to dodge the ball heading straight to his face.
"What the fuck," Max growls, or at least tries to, it comes out as a whine instead.
He would feel embarrassed if he wasn't busy feeling so fucking tired instead.
It's not his fault that GP and Seb made the entire team run double their usual drills because one stupid fucking freshman was late to the practice.
"What the fuck is you," Lando yells, making no sense but the frustration in his voice gets the message across.
"Okay," Alex's voice declares, "We need to regroup."
The other team groans and complains but they're retreating to their side as they do.
Fucking dickheads.
Alex pulls Max to the side, leaving their team discussing and strategising behind.
"Max, you know I love you," Alex starts, and Max preens a bit, always happy with how openly affectionate his friends are with him, "But you're a damn liability, man."
Max frowns, "No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are," George pops up out of nowhere, cause of fucking course, "We are being absolutely murdered out there and you're not helping."
"Okay, Russell, I've seen you throw, let's not pretend you're Tom fucking Brady, yeah?" Max snaps.
George opens his mouth to snark back but Alex pushes him away, "Go. Now."
George grumbles but walks away.
Simp.
"Max, buddy," Alex says, voice gentle, "It's okay to be tired. It's late. You can rest."
But Max doesn't want to rest. He wants to be with his friends and watch them be stupid. He wants to watch Lando slip on the polished floor and he wants to point at him and laugh in his face. He wants to watch George get worryingly protective of Alex when they play capture the flag. He wants to watch Charles argue and argue and argue over one single point in one of these redundant stupid games. He wants to watch him win the argument. Because he will win the argument. Max knows this all too well.
"But..." Max begins to protest, but Alex runs his hand through Max's hair and Max fucking melts into it before he remembers himself and snaps up straight.
"Yeah," Alex says, all sympathetic and soft. That cunt.
Max sighs.
Hard-headed as he is, even he knows when he needs to call it quits.
Max nods, making Alex softly smile.
"I'll see you in a bit, yeah?" Alex squeezes his shoulder, and turns to return to their miserably losing dodge ball team.
Max is practically dragging his feet as he exits the gym. He feels a tinge of sadness at the idea of missing out but it's overshadowed by the absolute fucking joy he's deriving from imagining how fucking good it'll feel to finally, finally be in a horizontal position.
He's just turned into the hallway when a voice calls out, "OI! MAX!"
Max looks back to see a grinning a bit-too-widely Daniel, holding a wide eyed, clearly trying-very-hard-not-to-blink Charles.
"Take him with you too, yeah?" Daniel says, slightly pushing Charles in Max's direction.
He leaves before Max can even get a word in.
Max sighs, running his eyes over Charles' rumpled appearance ; loose red sweatpants and a cream hoodie big enough to fit two, bloodshot eyes with mad scientist hair to match.
Max isn't the only one among his friends who had to run double the drills today.
"Tired?" Max asks, already knowing the answer.
Charles simply nods, his hoodie-covered hand coming up to rub at his eyes.
The sight makes Max feel all soft and mushy.
It's a feeling he's becoming increasingly familiar with, thanks to Charles' existence.
"Come on then," Max says, gesturing with a nod to the hallway towards their chosen class.
They walk next to each other wordlessly, both too tired to thinking of anything to talk about.
Max, surprisingly, is fine with it.
He thought it might be weird, considering just how much Charles and him talk when they're together.
But no.
This is fine too.
It's perfectly fine.
And then they reach their classroom and both of them stop short.
"Uh," Charles says, and Max agrees with that sentiment.
Because there are ten mattresses placed around the class, spread out from one wall to another.
Max so doesn't have the energy to gay panic about sleeping arrangements right now.
He never thought having too many options would ever be a problem when it came to sharing a bed with Charles.
Max glances over, sees Charles' eyes dart all over the floor, clearly trying to figure out his next move.
Max sighs, thinking, 'This is stupid'.
Cause it is.
Charles and Max have known each other since they were kids. Maybe they didn't like each other for half of that time.
But things are different now.
Even if Charles doesn't feel the same bubbly warm overwhelming feelings that Max feels for him, Max knows that Charles still likes him, still likes his company and their conversations and their time spent together.
That's more than Max's tired brain to make a decision.
"C'mon," he mumbles, taking Charles' hand in his, walking them over to the mattress closest to them.
He drops down, making Charles yelp and follow, somehow managing to not stab Max with his elbow.
It's not a big enough mattress to share.
But it's not a small enough mattress to not share.
Charles decides to stay, pressed up to Max's side.
Max is out before he can really appreciate the warmth and the comfort and the joy of the moment.
But it's okay, there will be other times.
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