Hi everybody! Below you'll find my works organized by fandom and character. Take a peek at the new WIP category - stay in the loop on what's coming up, and if it's not something you're itching to read, send in a request!
Supernatural:
Dean Winchester:
If You Change Your Mind - Ch. 1
If You Change Your Mind - Ch. 2
If You Change Your Mind - Ch. 3
Back Seat
Guessing Game (ft. Sam)
He Wants To Watch (ft. Sam)
Discreet
A Lesson in Manners
Camgirl
Sam Winchester:
Keep Watching
No Vacancy - Day One
No Vacancy - Day Two
No Vacancy - Day Three
Guessing Game (ft. Dean)
He Wants To Watch (ft. Dean)
Size Matters
Research
Sinners (Teaser)
Crowley:
Your Rightful Place
Fitting Room
Vices and Virtues
Castiel:
Obedience at Its Finest (Lucifer!Cas)
Vices and Virtues
The Last of Us:
Joel Miller
But I'm Better (Series, DBF!Joel)
Blood Flow
Daddy's Girl
The Real Thing
Our Little Secret
Too Sweet (Series, Jackson!AU)
Bourbon and Mead
Unspoken Rules
Friendly Competition
The Walking Dead:
Negan Smith:
Easy Access
Other:
Pedro Pascal:
Sway
Coat Check
Sinners (Full) - Sam Winchester x Reader
Unlike Your Brother - Sam Winchester x Reader
A Lesson In Manners - Dean Winchester x Reader
Step by Step - Dean Winchester x Reader
Requests are open! Be aware that if the request is incredibly long, oddly specific, or awkward it may be altered or unused. Some past requests have been questionable, gross, or illegal and I have no intention of immersing my brain in that for hours [*thousand yard stare*]
But, I digress!
Thank you for all of your support, as always. It means so much more than you know! If you have a request or simply want to say hi, my inbox is always open! Daily life impedes quite a bit, but I'm incorporating writing whenever I can. Feel free to give me some creative homework!
Also, check this link to see who I write for, and this link if you'd like to be tagged in future posts! The latter will be a lengthy process to finish, but I'm going to give it a shot! There's gotta be an easier way than doing this with a Google doc, right?
Here's to our lil' family, and to more fanfiction!
HII idk if you do wlw fics, but it would be great if you did a Rowena x witch!reader strap on action, if not, could you do Sam x angel!reader where reader loses her innocence
"when did supernatural go downhill" is the wrong question to be asking because supernatural does not exist on an XY axis where it can go 'up' or 'down' hill, it exists in a plane that extends towards and away from the audience at various times based on writing, plots, and whether or not the gay angel is there. but at no point does it move up or down hill.
Content: Explicit sexual content. Male masturbation, female masturbation, exhibitionist/voyeurist themes, reader is a sex worker.
Summary: On a frustrating night off, Dean can’t seem to find the right ‘material’. When his usual content isn’t satisfying him, he ventures elsewhere, only to be met with an oddly familiar face.
Words: ~1,500
The keys on Dean’s laptop click slowly as he enters a new search. It was a category he didn’t visit often, but sometimes there were some good choices. He hits ‘enter’, redirected to a new page, a list of assorted videos, the thumbnails all showcasing the most pivotal moments in the shoots. He released a sigh as he mindlessly scrolled past videos of couples, couples, threesomes, and more couples. It was hard to picture himself there, without the clean-cut, almost sterile version of porn he was used to. The cliché videos of pool boys and plumbers led him into a brick wall, itching for something different.
His finger freezes on the trackpad as his breathing halts. Dean’s attention focuses on a video’s thumbnail at the bottom of the screen. The star of the video faces away from the camera, their lower half taking up a good half of the screen, a small skirt covering the top of their ass. But, it was the remaining details in the background that made Dean stop dead in his tracks.
A brick wall is in the back of the frame, a concrete wall to its right, a minimalist bed in the middle of the room. The low lighting, the wall decorations he had seen just yesterday, it seemed…
There’s no way.
Half in disbelief, half in curiosity, Dean clicks on the video link: ‘Testing out my new toy ;)’
His breath catches in his throat as he stares at the loading circle, the screen temporarily black. It’s his last chance to turn back, to continue in ignorance and be able to look you in the eyes again. There was no way it was you, but a deep eagerness made him stay on the page.
Dean starts abruptly when the video begins. A small intro tune and a title card with some cutesy star name that he refused to commit to memory, like he did with other stars he enjoyed. If this was you, he’d rather forget it all.
The person backs from the camera setup, smiling innocently into the lens, and Dean’s blood runs cold.
Shit.
From the second he saw your face he was hooked. He willed for the strength to click away, to pause the video at the very least, but Dean couldn't. Disbelief flooded his expression despite a growing tightness in his abdomen, stirring as he watched on. You wasted no time, turning away from the camera and walking toward the ‘new toy’ mentioned in the title - a girthy, purple dildo was suctioned to the hard floor, a small bottle of lubricant sitting nearby. A towel was laid out next to you, two pillows from the head of your bed instead cushion your knees from the cold, rough floor.
“Fuck,” Dean curses himself, his hand instinctively rushing to adjust his boxers.
As if you’d heard him, you looked back into the camera, ensuring you were in frame for the perfect shot. You lean forward, the small skirt from the thumbnail riding past your ass, revealing your sex to the audience, a skimpy thong the only thing between Dean and heaven’s gate.
You hook your finger on your thong and tug it to the side. Dean lets out a soft groan as you spread your folds for the shot, tracing your entrance with your middle finger, before dipping it inside. You stifle a moan, barely audible, a noise that he’d never before heard in these walls.
Your slick coats your fingers when you pull them away. Fuck, you probably didn’t even need the lube - Dean chuckled to himself, you probably really got off on this. Didn’t you know that this could’ve happened eventually? Maybe you simply didn’t care if he’d found it. It didn't take away from the embarrassment, this invasion of your privacy.
Dean’s hand slips into his boxers, gripping the base of his cock warily before moving. Though guilt panged in his stomach, it eased away as he began with slow, smooth strokes.
What you don’t know won’t hurt you, right?
It was reason enough. You had thrown Dean enough flirtations for him to question if there was substance to them. He had never hidden the fact that he thought you were special. Hell, he'd let you sit shotgun in Baby instead of Sam, much to his younger brother’s protests.
You ease the dildo past your entrance, sucking in a breath before pressing yourself lower, carefully adjusting yourself to the toy's size. Onscreen, your pussy spreads wide for him. Dean slowly pumps himself in time with your movements, his cock throbbing in his palm. His eyes flit between your ass and your face, your expression changing to ecstasy as you inch lower and lower down the dildo’s length. Leaning forward, with your chest against the cold floor, you bounce yourself into a steady pace.
Dean just wished that you would just make some sort of noise. He’d never watched a video so quiet, save for the wet noises coming from your cunt. Another realization both stilled and excited him.
Was he home when you filmed this?
It would explain the silence, maybe you were just shy in the bedroom...
Nonetheless he itched for more, stroking himself in time with you, picturing anything close to the real thing. He’d never know what the girls in these videos are like up close, but this time, it bothered him. How could you be so close, yet untouchable?
“Aah, fuuuuuck,” you whisper. Music to his ears.
You finally urge yourself down the dildo’s full length, the base of it spreading your hole wide for the camera. Dean swipes his thumb over the swollen head of his cock, spreading a new bead of precome along his shaft. He pictured himself there instead, putting his cock there in place of that pesky purple toy. Minutes before, he couldn’t have ever imagined seeing you like this, but now, it could never be the same.
In the video, almost pitifully, you try to pick up your pace. The pleasure takes you over, stopping you from keeping your speed. Each time you cave into the bliss, you lurch forward and tease yourself with a few small strokes, barely at your entrance. Dean picks up the slack on the other side of the computer screen, avidly pumping his cock as he watches your pussy twitch around the dildo. Teasing yourself with the toy’s head is enough to send Dean reeling. You come back down for a few final, deep strokes, before the video abruptly stops, cutting to a still screen, promoting another site for the ‘full video’.
Dean’s hand slows as his high pauses. Frantically, he hastily rewinds the video back a few minutes, taking everything in for a second time. He was so close, it was too late to find another video, you were all he could focus on. You had been such a help to him, and you didn’t even know it yet.
For a second round, you bob along the dildo’s length. Dean braves himself to turn up the volume for just a moment. Your noises quietly fill his room, stirring in his mind while he brings himself to the edge of his pleasure. With a strained groan, Dean’s cock twitches as his come leaks into the fabric of his boxers; he milks himself thoroughly, his eyes never leaving the sight of your pussy. In his leveling breaths, Dean stretches his boxers to look at the mess inside, throwing his head back and letting out a breathy laugh.
Your video keeps playing in the background while Dean hastily cleans himself off with a tissue. His thoughts race, mulling over the fact that he would, at some point, have to look you in the eyes again. He just hoped he could hide it well enough when that happened.
He tosses the tissue into his garbage can, throwing a few more atop it for good measure. He stands fully, bracing his hands to his lower back as he stretched, debating a nightcap to cool off.
Padding down the long hallway to the kitchen, Dean made a beeline to the fridge, reaching in for the familiar, cold glass of a beer. In the distance, someone clears their throat, his hand halts on the neck of the bottle while he listens out for you. His gut tightens with shame. His conscience had been right, there really was no way he could look at you the same way, and that was all his fault. Dean prayed you wouldn’t be able to see it in his eyes.
In a moment of resolve, Dean grips the beer bottle and lets the fridge close as quietly as possible, making his way out as quickly as he’d come in. He urges himself down the hallway, looking dead ahead before your voice shakes him.
“Night, Dean,” you say after him, your tone softly upbeat.
He looks to you from the side, giving a terse smile. Your head cocks to the side in confusion as he speeds down the hallway back to his room. Odd.
You mutter, “What’s his deal?”
Hi lovelies, I know a story has been looooong overdue. I appreciate your patience and support during my unofficial hiatus. I'm getting back into the swing of writing again, and I have plans for more parts of this story if you're looking for more. I kept hitting this brick wall with trying to write Sam, so the Dean lovers get their juice today
Hi! This isn't an important question, but I just had to tell you that your writing is absolutely amazing!!!!!!! And I also wanted to ask how you're able to keep up such a good pace with writing?
hi hi!! thank you so so much. <3
honestly, reading has contributed significantly to how i do my pacing. whether it’s a physical book or something like fanfiction, that’s where i’ve gotten a lot of inspiration from!
another trick i use is inserting myself into the scene, visualizing it, detaching from the computer to let my brain wander and be as delusional as possible and see if it reads for the character. (and lemme tell you, i’ve messed up pacing for Sam SO many times ;-; )
overall, practice makes perfect, and exposure is the best teacher. read and write, even if you’re not too confident in it yet. also, there’s nothing wrong with bouncing ideas around with others and getting people to read it before you publish! happy writing my dear, and thank you for such a sweet ask <3
Helene destroyed everything in our town and surrounding areas Entire towns have been wiped off our map. Topographical maps have to be REDRAWN. I have no words to describe the devastation and loss around this area, to our people. I am safe, but the city/WNC has no running water and there’s no idea of when it’ll come back. Power has been out in most areas for at least 4 days.
There are people on ventilators and other machinery to keep them ALIVE. Without power or a generator, there’s nothing you can do. Entire mountain sides, full of houses and pastures, are buried under hundreds of feet of mud. Thousands are missing and even more unaccounted for with the lack of cell service. It’s taken 5 days to have ANYTHING even in the heart of the city. Please pray for WNC and the surrounding areas in eastern TN, SC, and GA.
Sending you all my love. I’ll try to write soon. Maybe it’ll help me out of this exhaustion and heartbreak.
It’s official - Butcher, Frenchie, Soldier Boy, and your other favorites are joining the character list. I’m new to the fandom, so I’m not sure what people are looking for, but these men are eating at my brain and I must dump it on here
So far Butcher and Frenchie have me in a chokehold (i wish) and it’s very interesting to see Jensen in such a gruff role. He’s finally cussing how we wanted Dean to <3
You know I love a good poll. Before Sammy gets his return, let’s give one of these Boys some love. Who should go first?
At long last, I have finally discovered the beauty that is Billy Butcher..,,, and I think my brain might explode.
this man is melting my writer’s block away with each episode. If anyone- ANYONE wants to read Butcher, please send your ideas - I would love to take a shot at a new character.
(For Supernatural lovers, Sam fic is still in progress. Frankly, I’ve been itching to branch out into new fandoms for a while, and this burnout has been heavy for a long time. I think this will be a good way to ease myself back into fresh ideas with a new perspective)
Hi lovelies! I have two fics in mind for our favorite Moose, but it's up to you to choose! I wanted to get y'all's pick since I haven't published in a little bit, so give me your thoughts! I have two in my drafts as of right now. I'm trying to choose between Sinners, and one titled 'Unlike Your Brother'.
Nutshells:
Sinners: You and Sam are disguised as a priest and nun on a case. Basically kinky roleplay, worship kink and such.
Unlike Your Brother: You and Dean have an argument, and Sam offers comfort. Bit of exhibitionism and 'who cares, let him hear us' energy.
Hiii! first of all I just wanted to say I love your writings and your stories. They are PERFECT
secodly.... i'd love to read a story about gabriel×reader in any situation, or maybe a lucifer×reader (lucifer in nicks body) please
now i know that u get a lot of request but i think these are good ideas and they would make an interesting story...
byeeee:3
hi my love!! thank you so much for you sweet words. i hope to keep writing some good works for folks.
honestly this is an amazing request to help deafer my writer’s block! those two haven’t been requested in a while, if at all, and i love them both very much. it’ll be awesome to write them! something spicy?
(On a more serious note, I want to apologize for this semi-hiatus I’ve been having. Writer’s block has proven to be no joke when it comes to outside stress. but! i’m working through it, and finding ways to ground myself and get in touch with my love of writing. To any of you who have been waiting for new works, and anyone who has supported my writings, thank you for your patience during this time. i love you all so much.)
-Bunny
p.s. are there any shows you recommend I watch? I’m itching to expand….
(obv no sam x dean, you will never find that on this account)
Ideas and requests happily welcome! Have y’all been itching to read anything specific? Also thank you for your votes!
Reblogs are incredibly helpful in supporting writers, so any and all are greatly appreciated! I love meeting more of y’all and getting to know you as this account grows :,)
Content: Explicit sexual acts, Jackson!AU, no use of y/n, jealousy and angst, mentions of alcohol consumption/intoxication, kissing, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, soft dom Joel (lowkey)
Summary: It was difficult, but Joel had to set a boundary, one he's having trouble adhering to. And back in Jackson, things aren't any easier. When an old friend comes around, it muddies the waters. Joel tries his best to assure you that it's not what it looks like, but you won't be easily swayed.
Word Count: 5.4k +
Looking for the other chapters? Click here to find them on my masterlist
The ride back to Jackson was much brighter than your journey out. Fluttering in your chest kept you on edge, buzzing down to your fingertips, coursing through you like small bursts of lightning. All over one simple kiss.
Though it had been anything but.
Twenty minutes ago, Joel had you pinned on the wooden fence, moving his lips in tandem with yours, shattering your plaguing tension. Joel wasn't sure when, or if, he'd have made a move if he didn't seize that opportunity. He would've cursed himself if he hadn't tried.
And to his surprise, you had given him everything in return. You accepted his kiss with a dying thirst, and the passion had been for him. Someone, knowing so little of his sins, of his regrets, would give their love so freely. Someone wanted him.
His hands gripped the reins as the edge of Jackson came into view. He had a thousand things to say but didn't know where to begin.
He detested that it had to start here.
He spoke up finally, breaking the calm silence, "Listen, I think we should talk."
It didn't take you by any surprise. Even still, your heart sank.
You made the daunting choice to face him, inviting the conversation. You were asking for the dagger of newfound love to pierce your chest, for it to carve you open.
"Okay," you replied, coaxing your voice into neutrality.
The effort was in vain. There was a tightness in your throat that couldn't be shaken. Your voice shrank, barely coming out as a squeak. The sudden shift didn't go unnoticed by him. What expression of joy that had been there before had been replaced with worry. Joel's eyes averted to the ground. He hated this. Knowing that he spurred on this whole... situation, and worse, that he'd be the one to shatter the hope.
And fuck, the look on your face.
Joel made himself bear it. This was his punishment.
He sighed, "This... what happened back there.." He gestured between you, his words failing him.
The birds chirped happily around you, the only sound filling stagnant space. His half-dead sentence hung with his head. With aching pain in your chest, you finish it for him. You stilled your expression and resolved yourself to turn away. The words feel distant as you say them. They weren't yours - borrowed from the times you'd been through this before.
"It was a mistake."
He was thankful you weren't able to see him wince. Joel digested the words, but showed no agreement to them. He refused to let that be the truth. His breath came out slowly, exasperated.
"You got a habit of finishin' people's sentences, y'know that?"
The jab would've made you laugh were it not for the hole in your chest. And despite the effort made to lighten the mood, the pang of regret in Joel's chest grew.
He continued, voice terse, "If you think it was a mistake, then we can forget it. But, regardless-" he stopped himself, searching for the gentlest words. A way to make this painless.
"It can't happen again."
Telling yourself it was a mistake had not made it true, and had not prepared you for those final words. They were a death sentence.
You still held the lead, but you no longer feel his stare, the occasional glance. You were thankful for the distance, for the small amount of privacy it gave you to let welling tears fall. Jackson loomed even closer, just minutes away if Belle were to go at full speed. A frantic urge tore at you to race ahead, like breaking away would erase what happened - like it would take back what was already said and done.
There were a million things to say, but you knew it wouldn't change his stance. You mustered a small, simple nod. Joel didn't expect much after a blow this low. He understood the silence, for whatever reason you needed it - he anticipated anger, hoped for it, even. Welcomed it. It would give him closure after the shitshow he created.
If you left, forgot about all this trouble he caused, Joel could shift his focus elsewhere. It had been a futile effort since you came to town. You were a distraction. The worst kind.
It was enough justification, Joel thought, to be okay with this. To let things between you go stale. Untouched.
Dismounting Belle back at the ranch relieved your body, but your mind and heart were different matters. Joel dropped from his horse without a word, already started on the process of unloading his gear. You watched him as he's turned, noting a lower slump to his shoulders.
You shifted your attention back to Belle, mindlessly disassembling her gear. Your fingers fumbled dumbly with the buckles of her saddle, new tears blurring your vision. The silence between you and Joel this morning had been uncomfortable, but this....
Silence like this was far too heavy. It held too many unspoken words, and even more questions.
The quiet was no longer an issue when a new voice rung around the stables, cheery and bright.
"Joel!" It was the voice of a woman, "Oh my gosh, back already?"
You peered around Belle just in time to see her arms wrapping around Joel's neck, giving him a close hug. The stranger let out a delighted giggle before she nestled her face into the crook of his neck. Joel murmured something inaudible that broke the embrace.
Her small talk was empty save for obvious flirtations, her voice turning whiny and playful as she spoke. You couldn't help but cringe at her sickly sweet tone, the incessant pushing. Joel said very little, but that stupid grin never fell from her face. Her wide, green eyes drank him in. As if you weren't even there, ten feet away, privy to it all.
Bitch.
With an undetected sneer, you finish unloading and take Belle's lead in hand. You settle your rage to simmer beneath the surface while you lead Belle out of the stables.
--
This was the last thing he needed right now. But here she was, thrown around his neck unashamedly, as if she'd been waiting so impatiently for his return. A slap in the face, compared to the situation he'd put you in an hour ago. You had truly been waiting for him. It had to be some sort of cosmic joke.
Joel placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a wry smile.
"Wasn't gone that long, Georgia."
Her eyes brighten hearing her name on his lips. The smile she wore was a stab to the gut. It shouldn't be her that was beaming, welcoming him, showing concern for his safety. Hers was not the face he wanted to fantasize about throughout his day. To come home to.
He patted her shoulder, hiding his contempt with a softer, weary smile, "Pretty tired after today, sorry. Not really feelin' it."
This wasn't the first time Georgia had been this doting. But the openness of it irked him, especially with the present company.
"Hmmm.... Sounds like someone needs to unwind," she suggested, lips tugging into a smirk. A serpentine look with her eyes crinkling proudly while a greedy smile formed. She always had a deeper motivation. He saw that spark igniting in her mind.
In the past, they had shared their need for intimacy - they fulfilled that need many times. She was a nice enough girl, he supposed. Joel thought it would be simple. No strings attached.
If he didn't turn her away soon, there was no telling how this evening would go. His need for a distraction almost tempted him into agreeing, but a flare of guilt in his chest instantly washed away the idea. It was unfathomable to think of this woman when you were so close by. And not when he was trying to still the feelings you'd brought about for him.
He stiffened, crossing his arms over his chest, "Tonight's not the best night. Gotta do a raincheck this time."
Even still, her smile didn't falter. If there was one thing she was worst at, it was taking a damn hint.
Georgia's eyes dart to the horse that started to leave the stables. She covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, her eyes wide in amusement. She whispered to him, pointing to the horse and who was guiding it outside.
"Uh oh, apparently we had company~"
Joel knew of said 'company'. Glaringly so.
He steeled himself as he joined Georgia in watching you leave. He noted how she watched you go with satisfaction, how her smile grew once you rounded the corner. Her joy was in such stark contrast to the anguish that flooded through him, seeping into his bones.
You didn't look back as you left.
I'm lost in admiration
Could I need you this much?
Oh, you're wasting my time-
"You're just - just- just wastin' time-" you sang out, the lyrics slurring together. You refused to let yourself wallow, so you opted for the best way to forget. Alcohol.
It was better than dealing with stupid Joel and his stupid rules.
Plus, it detached the meaning of the lyrics, the ones about being overwhelmingly in love, being completely enamored with someone, unable to be without them. The cassette tapes you had collected were few, but Tears for Fears were a classic you played the most often.
"Something happens and I'm head over heels-" you sang out, swaying your hips with the beat. A brief fantasy flashed in your mind of Joel joining in from behind, holding you while you danced and sang. You envisioned him singing along, his voice low and gentle, even though you'd never heard him do so.
Yet the lyrics carried you away alone. You closed your eyes, letting the rhythm take you, a cup of mead in hand. Granted, it was probably a poor decision for Pete to give you a whole bottle to yourself, probably worse for you to have downed two glasses. But you felt free right now, blissfully ignorant to the outside world.
Until it came, quite literally, knocking at your door.
The rapping broke you out of your dancing. You panted softly as you paused the cassette player, the room growing uncomfortably still in the silence. Perhaps you kept the neighbors awake with your singing. Frosted glass on the front door revealed a familiar silhouette, making you freeze. Heat coursed through you as you reached for the handle, pulling the door open just enough to see your visitor.
Joel stood at the top of the steps to the house. He wore his usual serious expression, though it eased at the sight of you.
Whatever confidence the mead gave you earlier had vanished - the sudden appearance was sobering enough on its own. Your flushed cheeks were clear evidence of how you were dealing with this afternoon, that you wanted to forget what happened. Joel clenched his jaw, remorseful yet again. He was causing this, but had been desperately searching for a solution, in his own way. Unfortunately, 'his way' hadn't earned him many favors in the past. Joel knew that his abrasiveness would wear you down, your bright spirit, that light in your soul. If that didn't, then learning of his past certainly would - the heinous things he'd done to survive, the lives he'd ruined. They hadn't all been guilty, either, so the validity of 'survival' was in question. Those years held the most regret. Now he stood on your doorstep, carrying this invisible burden. He straightened his spine and squared out his shoulders, shifting nervously on his feet.
Maybe seeing you was the worse option. Maybe he was rubbing salt in the wound.
You straightened, frantically building your composure. Blush crept onto your cheeks as you greeted him in your bedclothes, glass of mead still in hand. Your oversized shirt and sleep shorts did little to help you look presentable and ready for the unexpected company.
"Hi," you greeted softly.
The smile you were longing to see was back. A rare softness had returned to Joel's features. He placed his hands on his hips.
Joel smiled down at you, his gaze tender, "Evening."
His damned voice could get you drunk on its own. That intoxicating Southern accent was as sweet and deep as whiskey.
The hair on the nape of your neck stood on end. This was the exact opposite of what you wanted. You needed the space and freedom to forget about Joel, and he landed at your doorstep.
He'd changed out of his old clothes, his hair tidier than before. Though he wasn't close enough to tell, you swore you caught a brief whiff of cologne. And here you were, in your pajamas, hair loose and unbrushed, completely unprepared.
You stammered, "Do- uhm... do you want to come in?"
Affection shone in his eyes at your flustered state; he gave you a once over, chuckling slightly. Joel prepared himself for this - truly prepared himself, in ways he hadn't done in months. Hell, he even found himself putting on cologne. He'd just gone to change his shirt, but the thought of seeing you after the fiasco from earlier had him fully prepared. Fully presentable.
There was a beat of silence that let Joel's eyes wander over your form. His gaze burned through your thin sleep shirt, roving over your bare legs with a greed that slipped through the cracks in his composure.
You stood in front of him with wide eyes, holding yourself around the waist, a new type of vulnerability you hadn't yet shown. He eyed the way you bit your lip, his focus whisked away by desire. Your outfit didn't help suppress Joel's imagination, either - it was the most exposed you'd been in front of him. He found himself selfishly taking you in, fully and properly.
Those shorts did no favors in hiding the curves of your thighs; your shirt did even more disservice to his willpower. It was thin, too thin. It hung off one shoulder to reveal your collarbone to him, hanging loosely at your chest, displaying your nipples poking against the fabric.
He snapped back to attention, clearing his throat before making his way inside, "Sure, thanks."
The door snapped shut behind you, keeping you and Joel in the new stifling proximity. You motioned generally to the space.
"Make yourself at home," you told him, the awkwardness slowly easing away. You made for the kitchen sink to return your half-downed glass of mead, breathing away your nerves. Joel took the cue in his own way, finding himself leaned comfortably against the kitchen counter, feet away from you.
His stare had hardened. You braced for another lecture.
"What happened back at the stables, I-"
Reintroducing the events erupted jealousy in your chest, and the residual buzz from the mead aired it out. You snapped, though the hurt was still evident in your cracked voice. There was no time for small talk. There could be no casual 'how was your day?' after what happened.
"Who was she?" Your demand struck him. He knew this would come.
Joel pressed his lips into a thin line before answering.
"Her name's Georgia. We've been friends for a while." He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, avoiding your stare. He didn't want to confront the reality of his words, how they would pain you.
The words were chosen carefully, cherrypicked to be as vague as possible. He didn't want to explain Georgia when all he wanted was to dissolve her from his memory. Didn't want to see the hurt in your eyes, searching to understand.
It wasn't enough for you. It was a bullshit answer.
"Friends is the right term for it?" You pressed. Joel's eyes dart to yours before he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.
The term was empty as Joel's feelings for the other woman. He didn't spend much casual time with Georgia; he didn't enjoy her company. In truth, she was irritating - her only humor was harsh jokes, she was too invested in drama. But she was available at the time.
He should've waited. He didn't want to believe anyone else would come along, let alone as alluring as you. If Joel knew Georgia would've become such a pain, he wouldn't have entertained her to begin with.
His eyebrows knit together, "Do we really have to do this right now?"
"Yes, Joel," you hissed, "You're not gonna bullshit me - I already know. I know she's not a friend. People who are 'just friends' don't... act like that." You quote the words in the air. The anger had bubbled over the surface, just as Joel had anticipated.
In contrast to your outburst, Joel stood unyielding in his story.
He began, "We have history, alright?"
Your face flashed to frustration, but he continued, raising a hand to stop you. "It's been over a year. She had it out with her fiancé couple weeks back - she's just... dealing with it in her own way."
You scoffed, "So, you're fucking someone else's fiancée. Nice, Joel."
Joel's features hardened. His morals had been perpetually grayscale, so he didn't pay mind to the consequences of his choices. Georgia had been his escape, his secret, and now his biggest mistake.
"Was. Was fucking."
You countered, "Like that makes it better."
Joel doesn't expect his correction to change your feelings, but it's something. You snapped your mouth shut, exhaling deeply as you followed his suit, leaning against the kitchen counter. You took a deep breath before carrying on.
"So, what changed?"
It could've been a one word answer if Joel had the balls to admit it right then. His efforts had been to avoid complication. But he knew what he said next could shape everything.
So he opted for honesty. A vulnerable admission. The slight numbing in his fingers and pounding heart made him feel young again, in a way. He hadn't felt this jittery in decades. Joel wrung his hands together, nodding once. He'd made his choice.
"You came to Jackson."
Joel recalled the day you approached the massive gate, hobbling from a sprained ankle that wouldn't heal properly. He took watch from the wall, observing Jackson's newcomer from the vantage point, watching you depart with Maria. Despite your obvious injury, you kept a smile on your face, being grateful to have found safety.
It wasn't until your first group patrol that he saw you again. That time you were closer, and he was finally able to make out your features. Your wide eyes and a growing blush gave him a warm confidence. None of the other newbies had looked at him like that before. But, that time as well, he turned away.
He would be a fool to do it again.
"Things changed when you showed up, and I've been doing my best to keep things normal. I wanted to think that, at first, it was just some... y'know, mild flirting. And I liked that, I really did," Joel slowly inched closer as he continued. "I tried tellin' myself that it was nothing, but I can't find truth to that anymore."
Your legs turned to lead, unable to move, unable to deny him. Each nearing step heated your stomach, flipped it over itself, and shot your heart to your throat. Joel now stood inches away, pinning you against the counter like he'd done at the fence.
"I tried convincing myself a lot of things. That you wouldn't feel the same, that maybe I was misreading things, or maybe it was all just- just some dumb crush, or whatever." It felt stupid to say it, but that was the feeling. A crush.
It was laughable, an old man like him feeling that young love again. Yet, here was someone who could consume his full attention with a single smile. You had a depth of feeling and care that he couldn't measure up to, not in a lifetime. There was no undoing his damage.
You didn't share that belief.
Your eyes flickered to his as you raised a hand to his cheek. The scruff of his beard itched into your palm, your fingers carding into the salt-and-pepper hair. His skin was weathered and warm, tanned from years under the Texas sun. The crinkles around his eyes displayed both his age and his affection. They tightened a certain way when he smiled - you wondered if he knew that about himself, the simple beauties of him. Subtle details that only one in love would notice.
You lowered your voice to a whisper, "Well, do you think you have it figured out now?"
His stare lingered on your lips too long. As good as his poker face was, Joel's eyes gave his desire away. Your gentle touch thawed out his hardened look. He sighed softly.
Joel knew that his answer would seal his fate. He would have to accept any 'complications' that followed.
Wordlessly, Joel dipped his head lower, brushing his lips tentatively over yours. Your hand slipped behind his head to draw him in, to take those last few millimeters and shove them aside, to take it all.
You released a wanton moan past Joel's parting lips. He took it on with his own low groan - a deep, possessing noise that pooled heat between your legs. It was Joel's body pressing you to the counter that kept you stable, but his adventurous hands did you no favors. He broke his mouth from yours, panting.
"Do you have any idea how hard this's been for me?" His breath was hot against your neck, slowly creeping to your ear. "With all your damn teasin', it's been hard to hold myself back. Shit, I tried."
His words melted your core. You shifted your thighs together to find the evidence of your desire, just how wet you'd gotten.
A warm, open kiss landed under your jaw, making you shudder. A small moan left you involuntarily. Such a bright, mystifying, intoxicating sound that had Joel breathless against your skin. His hands found your waist, gaining purchase on the fabric of your shirt, tugging desperately at its hem.
You bucked your hips forward, only to find a growing bulge in Joel's worn jeans, firm and warm against your belly. Drool pooled in your mouth at the feeling of him, and your hands itched to reach downward.
Joel's hands cupped under your ass, kneading into the soft flesh before he hoisted you up and onto the kitchen counter. The biting cold of it pressed into your legs, quickly replaced with Joel's warmth gliding over skin, each shuddering breath coursing through you.
His mouth worked down to your collarbone, his sentences were broken between kisses laid along your collarbone.
"You knew it, too, didn't you, sweetheart?" Kiss. Joel's hands still idly toyed with the hem of your shirt, slowly inching his fingers under it. You throw your head back against the cabinet, rolling your hips forward as invitation.
"You knew what you were doin', flirting with me like you've been-" He lowered himself down, kissing over the fabric of your shirt, letting it stand between you for now.
Greedy hands crept up your thighs, igniting your skin along the way. Tightness grew in your abdomen while he moved along, planting hot kisses across your chest. Joel worked meticulously to deny you and keep you waiting for more. His mouth landed kisses below a nipple, then on the right, then on the left, before repeating the moves on the other breast.
He didn't leave you unattended. Joel cupped your neglected tit, working it slowly in his hand, reaching for your perk nipple. His fingers work it thoroughly, pinching and twisting, listening to your beautiful noises.
"Joel," you cried out, your hands finding his broad shoulders. His muscles flexed and stretched under your fingers, his chest rising and falling in time with your hurried breaths.
This is what he'd been wanting to hear: you saying his name. Not from Georgia, not from anyone else's lips. And now you laid here beneath him, uttering it like it was holy.
It was music to his ears.
Joel hummed lowly, the sensation reverberating through your entire being. A teasing warmth played with your nipple - Joel's tongue had come out to play. He laid it flat against the sensitive bud, still through your thin shirt, but it gave little barrier. You could still feel his tongue circling your nipple before lapping slowly, drawing out a new shuddering moan. He groaned beneath you with great satisfaction.
"That's it, sweetheart," Joel murmured, "lemme hear you. Tell me how good it feels, baby."
With your senses alight, you couldn't form words. Instead, you let out another cry as Joel caught your nipple between his teeth. He chuckled softly at your noise, replying with a gentle smack on your ass. This was far more tender than how he'd normally be. It would be his biggest lesson with you - restraint. Until you told him otherwise, he'd tread carefully.
Your hips widened to invite him closer, yet Joel left the distance as it was, taking the opportunity to bring his hand to your front. His mouth found yours once more with great desperation, as if the only clean air was what you shared. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, pulling away just enough for you to start to whine.
"Joel," you whimpered weakly, "Joel, I need more."
The request lit a fire in him. It was more than just permission, you were just as deprived as he was.
"More?" repeated Joel. You nodded quickly. He leisurely stood with a wide smirk, towering over you, his hand gliding lazily along your inner thigh. Joel mirrored himself on the other side, working his hands up the inside of your legs, so close to finding home. It's hardly enough, and yet too much. Your legs splayed out on either side, quivering, as you look up at Joel.
The neediness of your expression would've had Joel undressed in seconds, but he needed to take his time.
His gaze stripped you bare. He met your eyes as one of his hands meandered up your thigh, securing its spot at the waistband of your shorts.
Joel spoke idly while he hooked his rough, calloused fingers at the band, "Needy lil' thing, aren't ya?"
There was no time or breath to reply. Your breaths began to shudder as Joel used both hands to work your shorts down. The seconds feel like hours, but neither of you are willing to rush this. After holding back and stifling your feelings, this is what you deserved.
Quickly, Joel's lips wander down your neck, just as he helped you shift your legs out of your sleep shorts, slowly but surely. You kicked them off, letting them fall at Joel's feet, baring you before him.
He didn't know how to place it, but keeping your shirt on added to the seduction, still having part of you hidden from him until later. Another surprise would be waiting for him. For now, there was work to do.
"Don't worry, honey, I'll give you watcha need. I'll take good care of you," cooed Joel, who now led his index finger further up your thigh. It wasn't until he broke away that the praise began to flow.
Holding your thighs splayed out, Joel hissed through his teeth. Your pussy was on full display for his viewing, bare and dripping. He dropped to his knees before you, leveling himself at your entrance, his parted lips inches away from your needy hole.
He exhaled, parting your slit with a thumb. You were beyond what he imagined. Your pussy pathetically clenched down on nothing, desperate to be filled.
"Ain't that a pretty sight," Joel teased, suddenly running circles on your clit with his tumb. You whimpered into your palm, trying to stifle your sounds.
Pleasure coiled persistently in your stomach, creeping up your spine. Joel eyed your cunt as it trembled under his touch, smiling in awe - he'd never seen a body so beautiful.
Joel observed your writhing under his touch, memorizing every movement, burning them into his memory. Which touches made you arch your back, which ones made your thighs tremble. Your body, all on its own, ached and throbbed for him. He was the luckiest man alive.
And that desperate, pleading look on your face... God damn him.
This was far beyond what he had anticipated for this visit. If he had a lick of sense in him, Joel would've stayed at his own place. But even as he sat on his couch with his guitar on his knee, you wormed your way into his train of thought. Hell, you were the damn conductor of it. It wasn't until the sixth slip-up that Joel resolved himself to do something. The thought of you infiltrated everything - his work, his hobbies, his sleep.
Sleep had been most difficult, given that Joel pictured you there, too.
He couldn't have predicted this outcome, though. Joel leaned closer to your needy pussy, hovering his mouth over your swollen clit, relishing in the small moans you produced. His hands found your waist and gripped securely, testing the security of your position.
"Joel, please," you begged softly, "I can't take this anymore."
Your whining brought out a low chuckle from him, to add to your frustration. You groaned, bucking your hips forward. If he wasn't going to give you what you needed, you'd do your best to take it.
The grip on your waist tightened. A warning.
You looked down to find his stare intently on yours, his eyes overcast with lust. Speechless at the scene before you it was impossible to move, to look away. Joel kept your stare as he parted his lips to reveal his tongue, dipping lower and pressing it flat against your clit. The warmth was an instant, white-hot pleasure that drew your body into him.
"Oh, fuck-" you gasped. Joel hummed happily against your clit in response, swirling his tongue gingerly. He tested your waters once again, switching directions and rhythm, slipping his tongue around the entrance of your cunt.
He broke away with much protest on your end. Before you could utter a complaint he melted you once more.
"You sound so goddamn beautiful," muttered Joel. "You have no idea how many times I thought about this, pretty girl."
You mewled at the praise as Joel introduced a finger at your entrance, tending to your deprived hole as he showered you again.
"The number of times I pictured this moment... it's almost shameful. But I just couldn't help myself," he inched his finger deeper with each pause, drawing out your hissing breath. "And believe me, I tried to fight it back, but then I'd see you again, and it started all over."
With that, Joel curled his finger to greet your sweet spot. Crying out, you bit into your hand.
"Awh, what's wrong, sweetheart? You feelin' shy?" Joel teased darkly, "Don't want the neighbors to hear how good I'm making you feel?"
He savored the sound that fell from your lips, and he added a second finger. Curling masterfully like before, you were slowly stretched around him, walls fluttering as the coil in your belly tightened. Joel worked his fingers dutifully, angling deeper, he needed to hear you again - fuck the neighbors, let them find out. They'd get a good show, that's for sure.
His fingers' occupied state let Joel stand again, his lips and mustache glossy from your slick. A sly, devilish smile was your only sign to prepare yourself. Joel watched your face contort as he found a quickening pace. There was an obscene harmony filling the room - your sweet noises, and the sound of Joel's fingers plunging into your pussy.
"Hah.... hah... fffuck... Joel-"
"I know, pretty girl, keep it up. You can do it."
"I can't... I think I-I'm gonna... hah... I'm gonna-"
He commanded, "Give it to me, sweetheart. Show me whatcha look like when you fall apart."
You were pushed to the edge, and Joel sent you tumbling over it. Your climax slammed through you with a barrage of stars scattered across your vision. The world around you muffled, and while you couldn't make out what Joel said, you could see the satisfaction on his face.
Slowly, the world came back, and your breath began to slow. A satisfied grin plastered on your face, your body sated and languid. Joel tilted his head, smirking. The question begs an answer.
"Oh, honey, what am I gonna do with you?"
Y'all.
All honesty, this chapter took SO long to finish, my brain is now oatmeal. But the gremlin in my brain has been ITCHING to write smut, and we're FINALLY HERE RAHHHHH
(I'm sorry I stopped it here, but to be fair it's not the first cliffhanger I've done. Nor will it be the last. The next part will be out asap my loves!)
And if you liked this chapter, be sure to read the others! My masterlist is linked in the top of this post :)
