Hunty

Just a girl. ✌🏻 late 20s Welcome to my fantasy world

[cuntyhunty22]

HUNTYS MATERIALIST🖤

Below is everything I have written.!

Good men die too, oh I'd rather be with you. (Ongoing)

Smut. Each part has tags

Joel x reader

Part 1

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 7 audio tracks

💬 12  🔁 25  ❤️ 126 · Good men die too, oh I'd rather be with you. · Paring: joel x reader Description: Joel is a regular at your bar, you r

Part 2

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 1 audio track

💬 5  🔁 12  ❤️ 38 · Good men die too, oh I'd rather be with you. · (Part 2) Pairing • Joel x reader Description : read part 1 for full rund

Part 3

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 3 audio tracks

💬 6  🔁 15  ❤️ 19 · Good men die too, oh I'd rather be with you. (Part 3) · Joel x reader Description: revert to parts one and two. Linked

Part 4

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 3 audio tracks

💬 1  🔁 7  ❤️ 28 · Good men die too, oh I'd rather be with you. · (Part 4) Description: reader had an event in the last part that unfolds in

Switching the positions for you. (On going)

Javi Peña x reader

(Smut. Language)

(Each part has tags and warnings)

Part 1

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 1 image

💬 5  🔁 20  ❤️ 72 · SWITCHING THE POSITIONS FOR YOU. · • Mature content 18 plus Javier Peña x reader Description: reader is a journalist..

Part 2

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 3 audio tracks

💬 5  🔁 12  ❤️ 16 · Switching the positions for you (part 2) · • • Description: You are one month into your stay in Colombia. Reader and J

She rides

Clint x reader

(Smutty as fuck )

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 1 audio track

💬 0  🔁 0  ❤️ 0 · •she rides• · Pairing : Clint x reader Description : reader goes out for a night out, ends up having the "ride" of her lif

•

Hope again

Jackson old man Joel x reader

(Smut fluff )

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 1 image

💬 4  🔁 7  ❤️ 26 · Hope again. (Part 2 ) · * fate * Pairing : Jackson!oldman!joel x reader Tags : smut, violence, language, age gap, establ

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 6 audio tracks

💬 0  🔁 4  ❤️ 40 · Hope again. · Paring : Jackson!oldman!joel x reader Tags : fluff. Mention of death. Mention of K!ll!ng people. Smut. cum

[cuntyhunty22]

Tag game✨

Top songs I've listened to lately.

Thanks for tagging me @half-moon16 🫶🏼

( also surprised it's not on there 12-12 - sombr )

Tags : @mani-pedro @shaunasrabbit @littledes1re @pedroscurls

[cuntyhunty22]

WIP.

Ok so it's been a minute since I've posted something.. but I had this vision and I started just jotting things down..

(Guilty as sin is still working and I apologize I just don't have her where I want her.)

•

In jackson obviously everyone knows everyone. People talk. People gossip. You thought you were discreet with the guy you were hooking up with. That's until you show up to your bar shift at the tipsy bison wearing his old Johnny cash teeshirt he kept all this time.

That's like the intro to the ramble I have going on.

(Obvsssss it's about this guy.)

[pearlessance]

Cupid's Chokehold — part six!

TWO PEAS IN A POD

[prev]

summary: The truth comes out.

pairing: step uncle!Tommy Miller x f!Reader

warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, stepcest, age gap, size difference, innocence kink if you squint, unprotected piv, reverse cowgirl yeehaw, outdoor sex, rimming f!receiving don't look at me, ass play, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink, orgasm delay, biting/marking, squirting (kinda? i think), creampie, taking nude photos post sex, sort of insecure!tommy, physical violence, angst, everyone's angry and everyone's crying too damn much, angst with a happy ending, sarah "best little sister" miller, and also sarah "just like her fucking dad" miller, no outbreak au, no beta

note: wowowow final part??? i'm shaking in my boots for you to read this!!!!! full note at the end cause i'm emotional and a yapper, enjoy!!

wc: 12.6k

[series masterlist] [series playlist] [main masterlist] [AO3]

Joel Miller isn’t the kind of man to resort to explosive anger. Never has been.

Instead, it simmers. Boils and builds beneath the surface of his skin. He doesn’t yell, he doesn’t scream, he doesn’t accuse or point fingers. 

And that’s the most frightening part of it all.

The way he just…sits there behind the wheel. Not speeding, not talking. He just drives.

But Tommy can feel it. The wrath bleeding out of him, staining the air with tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Joel’s knuckles blanch around the steering wheel, old leather creaking beneath the force. His jaw feathers, but for too long he remains silent.

Tommy knows better than to speak.

They make it all the way out of Joel’s neighborhood. Past the suburban houses and onto the long, empty stretch of road that’s nothing but rolling fields until you reach the highway twenty miles away.

And then Joel laughs. A deep sound from somewhere in the back of his throat, devoid of amusement. “You know, I uh…I been wrong about一about a lot of things in my day. Made some bad calls. I’m old enough now to see that. To admit it.”

Tommy’s stomach twists.

“Matter of fact, there’s a whole lot of things I’m bad at. Like keepin’ records, for example,” Joel continues. “That wood workin’ company came by to pick up those benches this morning. The ones we rented for the wedding. Did I mention they were coming?”

There’s this expectant look on Joel’s face when he glances at his brother. Tommy shifts uncomfortably and forces a nod. “Yeah, I think you did,” he says. Quiet. Uneasy.

“Right, well. They were askin’ for an invoice. Wanted to make sure we paid the bill in full ‘cause they offer payment plans and such,” Joel explains with a wave of his hand. “Now, record keepin’...too much of a hassle for me. But luckily, I have this step daughter. Doubles as my secretary. Real good at stuff like that.”

He doesn’t know what to do. What to say. So Tommy just keeps quiet.

Joel clears his throat. “She’s got this little file folder where she keeps stuff like that. Separates everything by month. Says it’s easier to get rid of the things we don’t need anymore,” he chuckles. “Smart kid, that girl. Anyway, I went searchin’ for that invoice. Remembered it was one of the first things we bought for the wedding. So I knew it had to be pretty close to that consultation I sent ya’ll on for the house in Stratford. You remember that, little brother? You remember that far back?”

Joel’s toying with him now, he knows. Goading for a reaction. Tommy doesn’t give it to him. “I remember.”

“Found the invoice pretty quick. Gave it to the guy, helped him load up his truck. Went to put it back after an’ I found…well, I found somethin’ I don’t think I was ever supposed to see.” He reaches into his front pocket. Pulls out a white piece of paper, folded twice.

The creases in the paper are fresh. Crisp. When he hands it to him, Tommy takes it and his mouth runs dry. He unfolds it slowly, and his heart plummets when he reads what it is.

A receipt. The one for that shitty hotel you had stayed at that weekend. And right in the center, glaring and painfully obvious, it reads; room 314, single king bed.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, off to the right of the paper, just below the total, there’s a deduction. 

Newlywed discount.

Tommy reads it over and over, heart hammering against his ribcage.

For a single second, he thinks about lying. About explaining it away, saying it was cheaper, that there was a couch and a pull out mattress he slept on. A force of habit. 

But Tommy thinks there’s not much point in it now. No use in lying when the truth was supposed to come out today, anyhow. 

“Joel, I—”

“Oh, it gets worse,” Joel interrupts. Voice louder now. More firm. “Was layin’ in bed that weekend with my wife, an’ she asked me somethin’ I never thought I’d have to answer.” He scoffs. Shakes his head and scratches the stubble on his brow. “Ain’t her fault. She’s a momma, after all. Worried about her kid, and you know, I get it. I would be too if the roles were reversed. Asked me if…asked me if you were a little too close.”

Tommy tries to focus on his breathing. Tries not to think about the fact that he’s never seen Joel this furious before. 

“An’ I thought—” he laughs. “I thought, Tommy? Nah. He ain’t like that. Said you just…just care about her feelings. Don’t wanna upset her. Cause it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see the way that girl looks at you. Got a crush or somethin,’ always starin’ like you done hung the damn moon in the sky. But you wouldn’t…you wouldn’t act on it. Said she had nothin’ to worry about—I said that.”

Silence hangs between them for a few moments. Heavy, demanding. 

And then Joel says, “So, not only have you been lyin’ to me, but you made me lie to my fuckin’ wife, Tommy.” The muscles in his forearms flex. 

It’s the only tell he seems to have apart from the wrinkle between his brows. His voice still remains calm and steady.

“I’m gonna give you one chance. One. You’re gonna tell me what’s goin’ on between you two. And if I find out you lie to me again at any point, you’ll never set foot in my house again. I promise you that.” Joel flicks his attention away from the road, just for a moment, to stare his brother right in the eye. To let him know he means what he says. 

It’s unnecessary, though. Because Tommy’s known all along this was coming. Still, it’s devastating. Feels like he’s been stabbed and the knife just twists and turns with each word his brother speaks. 

The only thing that brings him comfort is knowing that you’ll be there. By his side, hand in hand—at the end of all this.

Even if he has no one else, he’ll have you.

Tommy swallows hard.

And then Joel asks it plainly. “Are you messin’ around with my stepdaughter, Tommy?”

“Ain’t like that,” Tommy says. The denial comes quick. Because while what you two have is a lot of things, it’s never been that.

“So what is it like, then?” Joel sees the wide eyed look on his brother's face and scoffs. “Don’t tell me some stupid shit, either. Like how you love her.”

“I do,” Tommy insists, patience beginning to wear thin. “I do, Joel. You really think I could do something like that?”

“Not like you’ve got the best track record with women—”

“But not to her,” Tommy says. “You…” he shakes his head. “Christ, Joel. You can’t seriously think I would—”

“I don’t know what to think anymore.” 

The words sit there in the cab of the truck.

And even though he doesn’t say it, Tommy can feel his brother’s disappointment. He wonders why it hurts a little more than usual when he should be used to it by now. 

It would be easier, Tommy thinks, if Joel was an explosive type of man. Could handle a right hook and screaming insults. But the silence is what kills him. 

“Look. I…I tried, okay? For months. I tried to do the good thing, to be the man I’m supposed to be to her. But the man I’m supposed to be isn’t the man that I am, and maybe…maybe that means you’re right. Maybe that makes me the pissy little brother you see every time you look at me, but that ain’t how she sees me.”

“That’s ‘cause she doesn’t know you like I do,” Joel grits out. “She’s young. Blinded. And God knows what you’ve told her, what you’ve—”

“You sayin’ I talked her into this?” Tommy scoffs. Feels a different kind of emotion rising up in him. Hot. Angry. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Stop actin’ like it makes me some sort of villain ‘cause I love her.”

Joel cuts the wheel to the left, hard enough the truck tires squeal beneath the sudden shift in weight. He pulls into the empty field and doesn’t even turn the engine off. Leaves the keys in the ignition, shoves open his door and barks out, “Get the fuck out.”

Tommy does as he’s told. Knows good and well what’s coming. Thinks it’s better this way, just to get it done and over with. He follows Joel out into the field and says, “I didn’t plan for—!”

Joel hits hard. He always has.

His fist flies through the air—cracking against Tommy’s jaw. His vision goes blurry, pain pinpricking below his skin. 

Tommy doesn’t fight back. Just stares at his brother, lip bloody, tears in his eyes.

Joel hits him again, but his momentum falters. “She’s my responsibility as much as Sarah is. My fucking kid, Tommy!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” He scoffs. “Think I don’t see how fucked up the whole thing is? Think I haven’t torn myself apart tryin’ not to love that girl?”

“Tried,” Joel laughs bitterly. “How in the hell do you expect me to believe a word that comes out of your mouth?” This time, Joel shoves him.

Hard enough for Tommy’s balance to falter. He feels dizzy and a little afraid, but underneath all that there’s something akin to relief.

Because he doesn’t have to lie anymore. 

And Joel might not like it—might cut his little brother off completely, but at least he’ll know the truth. At least Tommy will have you. 

“I know,” he mutters. “I’m sorry.”

Not sorry that it happened, just that it came at the price of this wedge between them.

“Fuckin’ sick in the goddamn head is what you are,” he says. Joel shoves him again, putting every ounce of his energy into it. 

Tommy falls, panting. Doesn’t even try to pull himself back up. Doesn’t fight back. Thinks for a second, a single second, that Joel may just kick him in the ribs, and Tommy would let him.

But he doesn’t. 

He just towers over him with this look on his face that’s half sorrow and half disgust.

“I love her,” Tommy says, softer now. “But I’m sorry for this.”

Another second passes. And then Joel reaches out his hand. 

Tommy takes it. Lets his brother pull him off the ground for what feels like the millionth time in their lives. And that look on his face doesn’t change; fury, disappointment, heartbreak.

But then he stares harder. Searches his face with narrowed eyes in that way he does. And then Joel’s eyes begin to soften.

They climb back into the truck in silence. Tommy finds an old napkin crumbled in the glove compartment and uses it to dab at the cut on his lip, spitting the coppery taste of blood out of the window.

Joel drives slow. Rolls the windows down, rests his head in his hand and his elbow on the doorframe.  He has no more questions to ask, no more truths to unearth. Lets out a few long sighs, but doesn’t speak.

So Tommy does instead. 

“My life wasn’t bad before I met her. I was happy. Had you and Sarah and a few good friends. And maybe I could’a gone on, livin’ like that,” Tommy explains. “But once she was there, man…” He shakes his head. Tries to find the words. “Everything changed. The way I saw the world, the way I saw myself. S’like there was a part of me just waitin’ to come alive. Waitin’ on her.”

Joel glances at his brother, giving him that hard stare again. Judging. Weighing.

“An’ I think…I think there’s a part of me that had known, even that first night I’d met her, that it was always gonna end up like this. A part of me that knew I could never really look away once I’d seen her. Still, I’m…I’m sorry, Joel. Sorry you got caught in the crossfire. Sorry that I didn’t just rip off the bandaid an’ tell you in the beginning.”

A long silence settles between them. Different this time. Less like a loaded gun. 

They make it halfway into town before Joel says, “For what it’s worth, I believe you.”

It’s not forgiveness. Not even quite acceptance. 

But it’s something.

When they pull into the driveway, Tommy hears your mothers voice first. Loud, firm, irate. Words muffled by walls of the house, but with the cadence in her tone alone Tommy can guess what she’s yelling about. 

But then he hears you—and he’s out of Joel’s truck before it comes to a complete stop. He can’t see you but he can hear the tears in the way you speak, can hear the panic in your voice. 

Joel grabs him by the elbow with a too rough grip. “Don’t,” he warns. “You’ll just make it worse.” 

Tommy glares at his brother, then at the front door, then at Joel again. Feels trapped, unsure about the balance anymore or if it even still exists.

But then the front door is ripped open, and you’re standing there with bloodshot eyes. You’d clearly been trying to find space, but freeze when you see them standing in the driveway. 

When your eyes find Tommy, you visibly relax. Shoulders slumping, frown deepening, feeling your upset more as if only now it’s safe for you to do so, now that he’s here with you.

The realization would warm his heart if it weren't for the problems at hand. 

You take a single step off the front porch and then stop again. Close enough now to see the cut on Tommy’s lip and the purplish bruise beginning to form on his jaw. 

Something changes in your eyes. You don’t speak, but your edges sharpen. Your gaze becomes fiery, glaring at Joel with a look that would level God himself. 

And then you’re turning around and running up the stairs.

He doesn’t understand at first. Just hears Joel when he turns to him and orders, “Go home, Tommy.”

But his home is underneath that roof, and Tommy isn’t going anywhere until he knows you’re safe. Until he knows your tears have dried and you can breathe a little easier. Until you tell him to go. 

Joel disappears inside, no doubt going to find and comfort your mother, and Tommy…well, he lingers. Is too afraid to blatantly defy his brother but is more afraid to leave you here alone, stuck.

So he leans against the front of his truck, arms crossed over his chest, here if you need him but just…just far enough away. Searching for the balance again. 

And then you come barreling back down the stairs, except this time there’s a backpack slung over your left shoulder. You snatch your sneakers from the floor behind the door and your mom finally comes into view. 

Her face is ruddy and tear stained, not dissimilar to yours. She watches you walk out of the front door with your shoulders squared and says your full name with a cutting edge in her voice.

You pause. Stare right at Tommy, shoulders heaving with every uneven breath, refusing to turn and face her.

Joel puts his hand on your mom’s shoulder in the doorway. Says something soft in her ear, but she doesn’t listen. Just clenches her jaw tight and tells you, “If you leave right now, don’t expect a place here when you come back.”

Tommy sees the flicker of disquiet in your eyes. Not doubt, just…sadness. Deep and pensive.

Deciding. Giving up one thing for another. Losing either way.

“I’ll still be here,” Tommy whispers. “Today, tomorrow—doesn’t matter. You don’t gotta make this decision right now. I’m yours.”

He sees something inside you shift.

And then you’re tossing your backpack into the bed of his truck and ripping open the passenger door without a second thought. 

Tommy would be lying if he said something within him didn’t loosen, watching the way you slide into the leather seat with practiced ease. 

He gets in, turns the engine over, and the last thing he sees before pulling away from Joel’s house is your mother slamming the front door behind her. 

You only make it a block away before he’s flicking on his hazards and pulling off to the side of the road. Doesn’t even have the truck fully in park before a sob breaks through your chest and you’re desperately clinging to him—fingers gripping the back of his shirt collar, climbing into his lap, face pressed into the crook of his neck. 

“C’mere, sweet girl. I know, baby, I know.” Tommy wants to say it’s okay, wants to promise that this will pass and things will get easier with time, but he knows it’s not what you need to hear. 

So he just holds you close. Runs his fingertips soothingly up and down your spine, thumbs pressing into the tender muscles at the small of your back. He kisses the top of your head and your temple and your wet cheekbone, tasting the salt of your tears on his lips. 

“I love you,” he mumbles into your hair. “An’ I swear to you, I swear, I’ll never make you regret this.”

You lift your head then, and Tommy’s heart breaks a little more to see it up close. Your pretty, starry eyes all bloodshot and filled with grief.

With the back of your hand, you wipe the tears from your face and say, “I’d never regret you, Uncle Tommy.” 

Then you smile. Despite all that’s happened, all that’s unfolded—you give him one of those sweet, sunshiney grins and Tommy begins to think he holds the bravest woman alive in his big arms.

He can’t help but mirror it, allowing himself to feel the joyous part of the tectonic shift for the first time. Feeling the loss, the erosion…but the rebirth, too. Sees your courage and matches it.

Tommy laughs. A quick, low sound that bubbles out of him. But once he starts, he finds that he can’t stop. 

And you’re laughing, too. Sweet, summertime giggles that fill him with warmth. You cradle his face in your hands, feeling the stubble on his cheeks, and then you kiss him. 

Gentle, easy, real.

When you pull away, you sniffle and say, “I’m sorry for crying so much. I’m sad, but I’m…I’m happy, too. Really happy. With you.”

Tommy nods because more than anyone, he understands. “S’okay to be both,” he tells you. “You can be happy and sad about it.”

A bright smile pulls up the corners of your mouth again, as if hearing the words alone brought much needed ease. You press your forehead to his and say, “I love you, too. Let's go home.”

He kisses you once more before you move back into the passenger seat. Breathes a little easier now that the dust is beginning to settle. Not quite calm, exactly, but…steady. Safe. 

You slide your hand into his and rest your head on his shoulder, and Tommy finds himself overwhelmed with gratitude.

Truthfully, he’d never thought much about his future before you. Had always just assumed he’d die the same way he lived, with Joel and Sarah at his side and not much else. Had never asked for or expected more. Had never thought he deserved this.

But now you’re here, sitting beside him, reaching for the stereo to press play on the Paramore CD he’d bought not long ago with you in mind. The music plays softly through the speakers, and for the first time in his life, Tommy Miller sees his future through a crystal clear lens. 

Can see himself coming home from work, beat and dead tired but rejuvenated by the sight of you standing on the front porch of a house he built. Still wearing those sequined denim shorts and those high top sneakers, hair pulled back with one baby on your hip and another with its chubby little hand wrapped around your middle finger.

His heart swells at the thought. Pinches tight, desperately trying to find the same solace it finds in his fantasies. Tommy’s hand squeezes around yours.

You don’t speak up again until he drives past his apartment, completely bypassing the turn he needs to get into the parking lot. That pretty crease forms between your brows and you lift your head to look up at him, a silent question hanging between you.

Tommy smiles. Says, “Relax, baby. You trust me?”

And you nod instantly. No hesitation, no doubt. Just surety. As if trusting him is the easiest thing you’ve ever done. “Always.”

He kisses the top of your head and keeps on driving. Doesn’t stop until you’re just outside of the city limits, surrounded by trees and emptiness. The asphalt road gives way to gravel and then dirt.

When you come to a small clearing in the trees, he pulls off to the side and puts the truck in park. Feels the smallest bit of anxiety bubble up in his chest. Not because he’s afraid, but just because he’s not quite sure what your reaction will be.

Tommy knows you, but this is…different. New territory.

So he picks at the peeling leather of his steering wheel, unable to meet your eyes. “I’ve never been sure about much of anything in my life except for you,” he says. It’s not flattery, just true. Real. “Never had much ambition. And what little I did have just got…overshadowed. Tossed aside. I don’t—I don’t know.”

When he shakes his head, you move closer. Lace your fingers between his and use the other to wrap around his bicep. A steady, glowing warmth at his side, giving him strength.

“What I’m tryin’ to say is that you changed that. For me. S’like you make me want to be better. Someone you deserve.”

He can feel you tense beside him. Knows you have something to say before you even open your mouth. “I hate that you feel that way,” you admit. “You’re a good man, Tommy. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, even for a single second.”

Your words land heavy on his chest and Tommy wonders if they’ll ever feel easier to believe. And if they don’t, he hopes you’ll never grow tired of saying them. “You’ve always been good with words,” he says, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Always know just what to say. S’one of my favorite things about you.”

He takes a slow, steadying breath. Reminds himself that it’s you. Not just the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with, but his best friend. The only person who’s ever understood him.

“When we were in Stratford for the consultation, the first time we started plannin’ a future together. One with a big ol’ house and a bunch of kids an’ chickens in the back yard, I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it. S’like it took over my goddamn brain.” He laughs softly. “I don’t think there’s anything I’ve ever wanted as much as I want that. With you. An’ so…when I got that check, after the work was done. I didn’t…I didn’t have a use for it. Other than this.”

Your brows furrow in confusion when Tommy nods his head towards the windshield, right at the clearing. “What?”

“This place,” he clarifies. “Five and a half acres. Can’t see it, but there’s a pretty big pond towards the back. Clean enough to swim in. Spent some time here already, built a dock for it一”

“Tommy,” you interrupt. “What? I mean…what? You…you bought this? For us?”

He shrugs. “Well, yeah. I thought maybe I should’a waited ‘til you could be here. So you could decide with me. But once I saw it, I realized it was everything we talked about. I signed the deed the first time I came out here with the realtor, two days after the check was deposited.”

“But that was before we decided to tell my mom and Joel,” you say, eyes wide with disbelief. “How did you know it would turn out like this?”

“I didn’t,” Tommy answers. “Just knew what I wanted. Made my choice.”

You stare at him a little longer, eyes full of…something. Something he can’t quite name. Heavy, the way everything feels these days, but good.

“Do you…do you want to go look?”

You nod frantically and fill the space with your soft giggles as you climb out of the truck.

Tommy rounds the front and takes your hand in his once more, walking into the clearing. There’s nothing there, not yet. But he points to the back of the open space, right before the tree line begins, and says, “Thought we might put the house back there. Far enough away from the road, but close enough it won’t be a damn trek for the mailman. Could build a chicken coop in that back corner ‘cause there’s a little stream back there. Real cute, thought you might like that. But we don’t have to do it that way一it’s your home, too. You just tell me what an’ where, and I’ll build it.”

He turns to the left and says, “You see that tree way down there? The one with the orange paint on it? That’s the end of our property.”

He turns to the right, and you follow, holding onto him and pressing your cheek against his arm. 

“And it goes all the way to that street sign, right at the crossroad. You see it?”

“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “I see it.”

But Tommy notices when he looks down at you that you’re not looking at the road sign at all. You’re staring right up at him, with those pretty stars in your eyes, looking like he’s the best thing to ever happen to you.

He feels his face warm beneath your acute attention. All his, all alone, with no secret and no shame in it. You’re not hiding, not here, and it’s the most freeing realization he’s ever come to. The air feels lighter like this. Cool against his face. Easy.

Right.

“Will you show me the pond?”

Tommy does. Walks you through the forest, between the trees, letting you take your time. You run your fingers through the tall grass and along the rough bark and Tommy soaks up the feeling. Relishes in the time you now have.

He lets the tension leave his bones. Lets himself relax into the safety of you. Lets all that longing, all that wishing bleed from his psyche and sink deep into the earth beneath his feet where you’ll build your life together.

When the pond comes into view in the distance, you let go of his hand and run towards it. Spread your arms out wide and turn your face up to the sun and say, “God, Tommy. This place is perfect.”

He wants to explain that it’s not this place, it’s you. That the last few times he’s come here it’s never felt like this. That it’s just been soil and green and space with no significance until you stepped foot on it. Turning something empty and baron into potential, the way you always do. The way you did with him.

But he’s not good with words. Not like you are.

So he just asks, “You like it, then?” Tommy meets you near the water’s edge just as you sink to your knees and lay back in the plush grass. He mirrors you一the way he always does, the way he always has. Tucks his hands behind his head and lets the sun warm his skin, brightness reflecting off the clear, blue water.

“I love it,” you say. And then you turn your head to the side, facing him. “I love you.”

Tommy reaches out his hand to cradle your cheek in his big palm. “You’re everything to me,” he whispers. “My favorite girl.”

You give him a wide grin, and he watches the seriousness fade and something a little sillier takes its place. “You think it’s too early to christen the place?”

It makes him laugh. A full-bodied sound that’s joy in its purest form. “Christen what? Ain’t even got a foundation laid yet, darlin’.”

“I don’t know! The land,” you say, the words slipping out between playful giggles. You move closer, throwing your leg over his waist, straddling him.

His hands find you on instinct; pressing flat against the denim over your thighs, squeezing gently. “You feelin’ needy, baby? S’that what it is?”

You run your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly at the roots, a soft smile on your face. “I just…I wasn’t sure if we were going to get this, you know? The happy ending. I always hoped we would, but for a minute I was…kind of scared. And now we’re here. I’m just happy, that’s all.”

Tommy smiles so hard the apples of his cheeks begin to ache.

You reiterate, “I’m happy and I love you and…yeah. Maybe I’m a little bit needy, too.”

He chuckles at your admission that was never needed, because Tommy can read you like the back of his hand. Has always been able to. He shifts his hips, lifting them up towards you, and delights in the way your lips part in response. “Look so fuckin’ pretty all the time,” he says. “But especially right now.”

Backlit by the bright afternoon sun, sky overhead clear and blue, possessing only a fraction of the beauty held by the perfect little girl on top of him.

“All sweet an’ soft an’ all mine,” he continues, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your jeans. He starts to undo the metallic button and you begin to move of your own accord, hips dragging over his waist, grinding yourself against the bulge of his cock, already hard and aching for you.

“Touch me,” you say, breathless, and he does. Slides one hand beneath your shirt, smiling when you sigh the moment his skin presses against yours.

Tommy reaches further, palming the swell of your breast, tugging the fabric of your bra down to run the rough pad of his thumb across the peak of your nipple. “Gonna give you everything,” he promises, both to you and to himself. “Deserve it all, baby.”

Once he’s got your zipper down, there’s just enough room for him to slip his hand into your jeans. He runs his fingers gently down your slit, over the cotton of your panties, already wet and sticky with arousal.

The rhythm of your hips shifts in focus; chasing friction from his hand instead now, grinding against his palm. “Oh, sweetheart…she really does need me, huh? Pretty pussy needs her Uncle Tommy.” 

A whimper leaves you as you nod frantically in answer, pace picking up speed. “Feel’s so good.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he mutters. Tommy touches for a little while longer, lets you rut yourself against him, lets you build up that delicious pressure. 

And you whine when he pulls away, because of course you do一sweet, desperate girl. 

“Shh,” he coos. “S’alright. Stand up for me, baby. Take your clothes off.” 

You follow his instructions so beautifully, so easily.

Tommy watches, hand palming his aching cock over the fabric of his jeans, as you pull your t-shirt over your head and reach around to unclasp your bra, leaving them in a pile on the ground below.

You move a little slower as you pull your jeans down, exposing the softness of your thighs, tugging the denim over your high top sneakers. When his gaze finds your face again, he realizes you’re watching him. Putting on a show.

Eyes dark, pupils blown wide, a flush on your cheeks and that troublesome smirk on your face. 

You’re the most enchanting thing he’s ever fucking seen.

When you begin to pull your panties down your legs, you turn away from him, showing off the supple curve of your ass. Pretty and tempting and so fucking delicious.

The cotton sticks between your legs, fabric clinging to your pussy, slick with arousal. You tug them the rest of the way down, leaving you completely bare in front of him save for your sneakers.

There’s something about the image that sends a shiver down his spine. Somehow both a perfect picture of innocence and corruption. An angel and siren all in one; calling to him, pulling him into your intricate web, forbidden and wicked and filthy but his all the same.

A soft giggles bubbles out of you, pulling him from his reverie. “See something you like, Uncle Tommy?”

His answer comes quickly. “See somethin’ edible, baby.” And then he’s moving, leaning up on his knees and taking hold of your thighs in a bruising grip.

Presses a firm, desperate kiss to the small of your back. Flicks his tongue across the skin, tasting you, a groan rumbling somewhere deep in his chest. His mouth moves lower, greedier, biting and sucking a mark into the soft globe of your left cheek.

He presses one hand against your spine, bending you over just a little more, and uses the other to spread you open. Leaving you completely exposed to him, unashamed, obscene in the way that only you can be. His perfect fucking girl, made special just for your Uncle Tommy.

“Christ,” he hisses. “She’s fuckin’ crying for me, ain’t she?” He reaches between your legs and slides his thumb through your folds for emphasis, spreading the sticky wetness, pulling it back until his thumb drags gently over the one part of you he’s never claimed.

You shiver at the touch, but make no move to run from it. Tommy’s mouth waters at the sight of you, body quietly begging.

“S’it okay if Uncle Tommy kisses you here, baby? I’ll be real gentle. Promise.”

The words sound filthy in his ears. But he can see the way they make your thighs clench, sees the goosebumps rise along your spine. Dirty, wicked girl. His perfect fucking match.

Tommy waits for your nod, and then he’s leaning forward, tongue hot and wet, sliding against your tight entrance, clenching beneath his ministrations. He moans against you—a breathy, ragged sound. Savors the heady taste, fingers sinking deep into the softness of your skin. 

“Oh, God—” you reach your hand back, clutching his shoulder. 

He flicks his tongue, up and down, up and down. A dizzying, steady rhythm. He presses his face against you, insatiable, spit dripping down his chin. 

Your moans are so pretty. Music to his ears. And when he reaches around your thigh to press his fingers to your clit, you cry out his name. 

His cock strains in his jeans, hips tilting ever so slightly, chasing the sweet relief that comes with the subtle friction of fabric. Just hearing you, seeing you, tasting you has Tommy teetering on the cusp of euphoria. And he knows the moment he sinks inside you he’ll be close一too close.

So he plans ahead. Shoulders your legs further apart to make room for his other hand as it finds your sweet pussy with muscle memory. He presses two fingers in deep, caressing that most sacred spot inside of you, and grins when you whimper for him.

“Fuck, Uncle Tommy, please一!”

His words are breathless, panting. “That feel good, darlin’? Huh? That what you need?” 

“God, yes, it’s so much,” you say, voice all soft and pretty.

His fingers on your clit move slowly, intentional, precise in just the way you like, while the ones inside you hook upwards, curling deliciously, pulling sweet sounds from your lungs. 

“You can take it,” Tommy promises. And then he’s pressing his mouth to your ass again, kissing, licking, tongue circling the tight ring of muscle. A chorus of pleas leave your mouth, echoing in the open air.

“So..God, so good, so fucking一hmm一don’t stop, please don’t stop一!”

He feels your thighs begin to shake, feels your silky walls clench tight around his fingers. Knows you’re close even though you don’t say the words. Waits until you hold your breath, until you’re right there, chasing the high一and then he pulls away. Slides his fingers out of you and they come away slick and syrupy and glistening. 

You toss your head back in a dramatic display of frustration and it makes Tommy laugh, a dark, maniacal sound. Maybe even a little bit mean.

“No, please, Tommy, please, please一!”

Sound so fucking pretty when you beg, Tommy thinks. 

“S’enough whinin’ girl,” he says, belt buckle clinking as he pulls it loose. “Ain’t ever let you down before, m’not gonna start now.”

He reaches into his boxers and shoves them down just enough that his cock springs free, hanging heavy between you. He props himself up a little further, stabilizing his balance, knees digging into the dirt below, leaving grass stains on his jeans. “C’mere, baby. Come sit on Uncle Tommy’s lap.” 

With greedy fingers, he pulls you back by your waist, until your sneakers are planted firmly in the ground on either side of him. And then he pulls you down, holding his cock with one hand, guiding it into your tight, wet heat.

You moan in tandem at the contact, at the sweet, aching stretch. He pulls you all the way down onto his length, buries himself deep inside you. “Yeah, there you go. Takin’ it so good. Fuckin’ made for this cock, huh?”

“God, yes,” you whimper. You roll your hips, and Tommy’s fingers find your clit again, sliding over the sensitive nerve endings, movement made easy by the wetness between your thighs. 

Tommy presses gentle kisses to your shoulder as you ride him, breath ragged. Bathes you in a song of praise, saying, “Fuckin’ love every goddamn inch of you, baby. So pretty. My perfect, filthy girl. All mine. Never gonna let you go, not now. Uncle Tommy’s gonna keep you forever. Build you the house of your dreams an’ fuck you in every room. Hm? Fill you up ‘til you’re all full’a me. ‘Til I make you a mama.”

He can feel the way you pulse around him when he says it, as if waiting kills you. As if you want it now. Tommy understands, the way he always does. Can feel that familiar coil of pleasure building at the base of his spine at the idea alone.

“You like that, darlin’? Hm? You’d be the prettiest mama,” he says. “My favorite girl. Christ, fuckin’ dripping all over me.”

His fingers stay steady at your clit, letting you work yourself up and up and up, until一 “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, oh my fucking God, I一!”

Tommy leans back just in time to see a rush of liquid leave you, drenching him, slick leaking down his length. The sight is filthy and obscene and does him in completely. Tommy thrusts up into you, reaching impossibly deeper, and his orgasm hits him like a fucking freight train.

Hard, smothering, blinding. But he doesn’t stop, even though you’re shaking and fall forward, catching yourself with your palms in the plush grass.

He chases after you, hips slamming into yours, cock heavy and twitching as he paints your insides all sticky and white. “Yeah, there you go, baby. There you go. Doin’ so fuckin’ good. Take it all, pretty girl. Shit.”

Tommy doesn’t stop, not until your moans change cadence. Until he’s given you every last drop, spent himself completely. Until you’re boneless and panting beneath him. He leans back, still inside you. Pulls out slowly until just the head of his cock lingers, and then he thrusts back in. Deep. Relishing in the way you squeeze your eyes closed and the sight of your fingers as they curl in the dirt.

He kisses the back of your neck, and then finally pulls out completely. Tucks himself back into his jeans and buckles his belt. You begin to move, pushing yourself back up, but Tommy stops you with a heavy hand at the small of your back. “Hang tight, sweetheart.”

Sifting through your clothes, Tommy finds your cotton panties and has full intentions of using them to clean you up. But when he turns back to see the mess between your legs; a mixture of you and him, dripping down to your clit, pussy swollen and thoroughly taken care of…Christ. You look so fucking pretty.

And he never would have asked before, but now that you're well and truly his…Tommy feels like maybe he can. Maybe he can let himself steal this moment, to cement it forever, to hold on to it without feeling shame.

You read his mind. The way you always fucking do. “You can take a picture, if you want,” you mutter shyly. 

It’s all the permission he needs.

Tommy pulls his phone out of his back pocket and opens the camera with one hand and places the other on your ass cheek, careful not to cover the bruise he’d sucked there with his big palm. He spreads you open, just a little, his touch reverent and gentle, and the shutter on his phone clicks loudly in the silence as he takes the photo.

He opens his gallery to see it there on full display, and something eases inside him when he sees the subtle golden glint of the ring on his finger in the photo. The one with the pearl set in the center, twin to the pendant still clasped around your neck.

Like it belongs here. Belongs with you. Like he does. Like he always has. 

Tommy leans forward and hands you his phone. While you take it, eyes roaming over his handiwork, he cleans the mess from between your legs and pockets your panties.

You giggle, a wide grin on your face as he helps you to your feet. “Cute,” you say. “Should we get it framed?”

Tommy laughs hard as he holds your jeans out for you, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders as you step back into them. “Jesus, girl,” he says. “You’re fuckin’ crazy.” 

But the idea isn’t half bad, Tommy thinks. Wouldn’t hate it if somehow that photo ended up in his wallet.

He takes you out to lunch after. A little dive bar on the south side of town, one you admit you’ve snuck into a couple of times before your twenty first birthday. You talk about your plans for the future—the house, the chickens, the kids. 

Things you’ve only scratched the surface of because you’ve never been given a chance to dive deeper until today. And you’re both eager, but still careful.

Tommy admits he wants to go slow. That he wants to do this right. Finish the house and then marry you first. Reminds you that you can move slowly now that there’s time—a whole life of it.

When he takes you back to his apartment, you spend most of the evening moving things around. He cleans out the nightstand on the right side of his bed and the left side of the medicine cabinet.

You unpack your bag, but didn’t bring much in your haste to get out of Joel’s this morning. A couple of shirts he hangs up in the closet, a pair of jeans he folds into the top drawer of his dresser, your toothbrush that he sticks beside his in the cup on the bathroom sink.

And when it’s time for dinner, Tommy apologizes for the lack of options. “Never really been good at that part. Cookin’ and all that,” he admits quietly, scratching the back of his neck, feeling suddenly nervous. Too exposed. He adds optimistically, “But I can learn. Think there’s some cooking classes online and stuff, right? I’ll learn for you.”

“Hey.” You grab his elbow gently and turn him towards you, face lit by the fluorescent kitchen light, a stern look in your eye. You say, “I don’t love you because of what you can give me, Tommy. I just love you. Period.”

And it makes pressure build behind his eyes and his ears ring. Because he doesn’t think anyone has ever loved him like you do, not even his own brother. It’s pure, unbridled. Real. There’s no limitations or conditions attached to it. 

He’s not used to a love like this. Not sure he’ll ever be.

You slide your hand down his forearm, fingers squeezing tight around his. “I don’t know how to cook, either. We’ll learn together. Okay?” There’s this smile on your face; sweet, gentle, accepting. More kindness than he’ll ever deserve.

Tommy nods and swallows hard. “Okay,” he echos.

You take inventory of everything in his kitchen. Odds and ends and a single frozen solid chicken breast in the freezer that you put in a bowl of cool water to thaw. Inspiration strikes when you find a can of black beans in the back of his cupboard and a half-empty bag of rice.

The rice is the hardest part. You have to google the water to rice ratio and it still comes out a little sticky, but edible. Tommy slices and seasons the chicken because you discover you hate the feel of it, which leads to a whole rambunctious chase around the kitchen island while he dangles a strip in his hands.

You rinse the beans and warm them up in the microwave while he checks the chicken on the stove fifteen times with the meat thermometer in his junk drawer that he’s never used even once before today.

The evening is full of laughter. You move around each other effortlessly. He touches your waist when he slips behind you to put the spices back in the cabinet above the stove, and you know right where the utensils are even though he’s never shown you. 

It ends up being a sort of protein bowl—rice and beans and chicken and way too much hot sauce. You put the plates on the coffee table in the living room—Tommy doesn’t have a dining table.

When he promises to get one you say, “Save it for the house,” with a dismissive wave of your hand and it puts his mind at ease.

You both sit on the floor beside each other with a comedy skit playing on the TV in the background. Take a single, tentative bite…and then proceed to spit it back out in tandem. 

“Jesus Christ,” Tommy says, laughing so hard his side aches. 

“That’s fucking awful,” you add, giggling and pressing your hand to your mouth. “How did we do that? I mean, it’s just rice and chicken!”

“It’s so dry. And the rice is…why is it slimy?”

You’re laughing even harder now, face flushed from exertion, pushing your bowl away. 

An hour later, once the dishes are done and all your hard work gets scraped into the garbage bin, you and Tommy sit on the couch and share a pizza. All pepperoni, half with black olives. You don’t even use plates.

He just sits in the corner of the cushions and you sit beside him, tucked up under his arm, insisting he start that vampire show you love from the very beginning. And Tommy grumbles and says he’s not interested in no fucking teen drama.

But he doesn’t say a peep when you click the next episode, more locked into the plot than he ever would've thought he’d be. When the sun’s set, you tuck the remainder of the pizza into the fridge and brush your teeth together in the bathroom.

Tommy squeezes toothpaste onto the bristles of your brush for you with a soft smile on his face. Thinks he could get used to this, to doing small, everyday things for you. With you.

It isn’t until you’re lying beside him in bed, blankets pulled tight around you, the moon high in the sky, when it finally trickles in.

The reality of it all. The loss. 

You’ve got tears in your eyes when you ask, “Do you think…do you think she meant it? That I’ll never have a place with them again?”

Tommy hates the way you sound like this. Like a frightened little girl, afraid of losing her parents. It hurts him to see. Hurts even more that he can’t give you a certain answer.

So he just places his hand against the side of your face, thumb caressing your cheekbone. “I don’t know, baby,” he mutters. “But I do know you’ll always have a place here. With me. Okay?”

You sniffle and nod, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “Okay. Yeah, I’m…I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “Ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, sweet girl.”

The sound of your phone rings out in the silence. Shrill and loud, cutting through the softness you’ve built.

You turn in his embrace and pull the device off the charger, brows furrowing as you answer and put the call on speaker. “Sarah? What’s wrong?”

Something slams in the background. Heavy, metallic. “Fucking一ow! God damnit, I just dropped all my shit. Can you一?”

Her phone clatters to the floor, and her loud, dramatic groan can be heard even with the distance.

“Dude,” you say. “Are you drunk?”

The moment you move out of bed, Tommy follows you. Pulling on his jeans and leaving the bedroom to grab his boots and your sneakers from the rack by the front door.

“I’m coming to get you,” you insist, shoving your feet into your shoes the moment Tommy drops them in front of you. “I’ve got your location already just don’t move一”

“I’m not drunk, I’m fucking pissed,” Sarah interrupts. “And I’m outside, can you help me? I haven’t been to Tommy’s apartment in, like, two years. Is it the third floor or the second? I can’t remember一” Another clatter. Another, “Oh my fucking God, dude. I’m about to freak out.”

You’re moving in tandem, leaving his apartment behind without even locking the door. Tommy doesn’t have a shirt on and you’re only wearing a clean pair of his boxers and a tank top you’d grabbed from Joel’s, but neither of you seem to care.

All that matters is getting to Sarah.

And you find her, just outside the building’s front doors, arms full with duffel bags and two old school backpacks, all while dragging a suitcase behind her. Her shoulders slump and she drops everything onto the concrete the moment she sees you.

Tommy doesn’t know, exactly, what happens. Just that it’s mutual. A shared relief, seeing each other. You run to her and she opens her arms and you fall right into them, tears rushing to the surface, wetness marring both of your cheeks.

As if you’d been fighting it all day, pushing it out. But the moment you see Sarah, the walls you’ve steadily built for the last twelve hours come crashing down as easily as if they were made of glass.

“God,” she says into your shoulder. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She holds you for a while, and Tommy just stands there. Watching it happen, watching the bond between you two and trying not to think too hard about his brother.

When you slowly begin to pull away, she shakes her head in disbelief and says, “I can’t believe they would do that. I would never leave you. Never. You’re my sister. Do you hear me?”

You nod, slow, certain. And then you laugh softly. “I’m older, I’m supposed to be the one comforting you, not the other way around.”

Sarah rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m sure the time will come unless Summer decides she’s done fucking frat boys or not.” 

Tommy takes that as his cue. Remembers that Summer is the girl from Sara’s biology class and knows that whatever’s going on between them is absolutely none of his business.

He moves to pick up Sarah’s bags instead. All heavy and overflowing. “You movin’ in, too, kid?”

Tommy says it as a joke, but then Sarah answers, “Guess so. For a little while, anyway. That okay?”

He looks at you, a little overwhelmed. Feels sort of like his life has turned completely upside down, tilting on its axis. You answer for him, and Tommy’s grateful.

“Of course it is. We’ll figure something out.”

The words bring him comfort. Knowing he doesn’t have to make decisions alone anymore. That things might get a little overwhelming and chaotic for a while but he’ll still have you. It’s such a grounding thought that it’s hard to feel afraid of anything the future might hold.

You all bring her bags up together. Most of which, it turns out, are filled with your things. The majority of your clothes, the throw blanket from the end of your bed, your laptop and your favorite water bottle and your lime colored bikini.

Sarah explains that she could sense something was wrong the moment she came home from tutoring. And when Joel and your mom explained what happened, how they’d pushed you away and forced you and Tommy both out, that she could hardly believe it.

“I tried to make them understand,” she says. “Tried to explain that all that matters is that you’re happy. That you’re not suffering and sad all the time the way you were. And I think…I don’t know. I think maybe my dad understood a little bit, but your mom’s still pretty upset about the whole thing. I think she blames herself.”

“For what?” You shake your head. “I’m not a kid anymore. I’m a grown woman and I didn’t make a mistake.”

Tommy hears you say it from the kitchen as he pours everyone mixed drinks. Alcohol, it seems, is the one thing he has in his kitchen in excess.

Your words bring a strange feeling to his chest. Gratitude, maybe. Something warm and reassuring.

“I don’t know,” Sarah says, dismal. “But they’re heading out tomorrow to that cabin for their honeymoon. Maybe it’ll be good for them to cool off for a bit, anyhow. I’ll go home tomorrow once they’re gone, but I told them I’m not staying there unless they let you back. That I don’t want to be a part of their stupid fucking exclusion party.”

It surprises Tommy to hear it, in truth. Can almost see the reaction on Joel’s face in his head. Knows they’d raised Sarah to stand her ground, to stick to her guns, to protect those who need protecting. And she’s doing it, Christ is she. 

But Tommy knows, too, that she’s breaking her old man’s heart in the process.

She turns to Tommy as he sets three glasses on the coffee table. “So when they come home…”

“You’ll need a place to stay,” he finishes. “Couch is always open to you, Sarah. You know that.”

But the couch is not where she ends up on that first night. 

Instead, all three of you end up in his queen sized bed. Tommy on the left, you in the middle, Sarah on the right. Cramped as hell, but not awkward. You whisper to Sarah in the dark, thanking her a hundred times, reminding her that she doesn’t have to do this, and she reminds you that she does.

You fall asleep clutching her hand. 

And he finds himself eternally in debt to his niece for being able to comfort you in ways he’ll never be able to. Tommy can try, he knows. Can be whatever you need, can hold you tight and wipe away your tears. But he’ll never be this.

He’s thankful you have Sarah. Thankful, too, that she has you.

Tommy wakes up before you both. Slips out of bed, showers, and picks up three iced coffees from the shop downtown all before either of you crack open an eye.

It’s awfully cute, though, when he comes back to see you both sprawled out, taking up every last inch of his mattress, legs draped over each other.

You wait until late afternoon to leave his apartment, until you’re certain that your mom and Joel have left for the remainder of the week. 

Sarah helps you pack up the rest of your things. Jewelry and bed sheets and makeup products and soaps from the bathroom. Odds and ends, little things, but items that he knows will make you feel more at home in a new space.

“I’ll stay here while they’re gone,” Sarah says just before you leave. “But let me know if there’s anything else you need and I’ll bring it over after I’m done tutoring. Okay?”

You hug her, holding tight to her shoulders. Tell her how much you appreciate her and add that Summer would be stupid to pass up on a girl like her. 

That night, you spend an hour making a grocery list. Jot down recipes you want to try and add all the ingredients to the notes app on your phone. You eat the leftover pizza from the fridge and swear you’ll go shopping after work tomorrow. 

And when you do, it’s easy.

Tommy’s the first to veer off the list, adding mint chip ice cream and a fresh box of cinnamon toast crunch. You spend way too much time in the aisles, singing to the soft pop music that plays on the speakers overhead, stopping not once but twice to frantically google lyrics to a song you don’t know so you can add it to a playlist.

He waits, every time, smiling wide and admiring your profile and the soft curve of fluorescent light as it hits the slope of your nose. He pushes the cart, reaches everything on the top shelf, and kisses you in front of the cashier when you’re checking out.

It’s not lewd. Just a quick, easy peck on the lips. But it has his heart skittering behind his sternum, pace picking up, because he realizes this is your new normal.

Tommy doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of kissing you in public. Thinks back to all those times he wishes he could have but wasn’t able to and cherishes the small form of affection a little deeper. 

Dinner on the third night is better. Just bowtie pasta with half a jar of alfredo sauce and pre-shredded parmesan cheese, but it’s edible. Not the best thing you’ve ever had, but it’s yours. 

He goes to sleep that night with a smile on his face.

Everything, he finds, is easier with you. Getting up in the morning, dragging his old bones to work, cooking, chores around the house, going to sleep every night. You start to form a routine, settling in. It’s peaceful and full of easy bliss.

You start making a list of things you want for the house. Lots of windows, wood flooring, brass hardware, a wrap around porch.

Once, you wake him up a little after two in the morning just to say, “Four bedrooms, not three. One for Sarah, just in case.”

Tommy smiles sleepily and presses his mouth to yours. You taste like mint and sunshine and home. “Four bedrooms,” he agrees.

He gets with Mike on Friday after work. He’s got more years of excavating and concrete pouring experience than anyone else on the job site. Tommy asks if he’ll lend a hand when the time comes, once he’s got a full blueprint and a good chunk of change saved up. 

Mike just gives him a knowing smirk and says, “Made your choice, did you?”

“Long time ago,” is Tommy’s answer.

“‘Course I’ll help. Just let me know when.”

Your mom and Joel come home from the cabin Sunday morning, and Sarah shows up not long after with a scowl on her face. Grumbles, “God, sometimes I swear I could rip that man’s head off.”

Tommy makes three servings of spaghetti and sets one in front of her. “What happened?”

“He just talks to me like I’m a kid all the time,” she explains, kicking her shoes off and tossing them to the side of the couch.

“S’just cause to him, you’ll always be his baby girl no matter how old you get,” Tommy tells her. “Don’t matter if you're five, fifteen, or fifty. Still a baby to him.”

She just rolls her eyes, and the three of you eat and watch your vampire show together. Sarah likes it, too, and giggles every time the blonde one comes on screen. 

You and Tommy spend fifteen minutes the following morning, trying to decide if you should still swing by Joel’s house to pick him up for work. Admit to each other that there’s a part of you that hopes he’ll just drive himself, but another part that would be a little hurt if he did.

Eventually, as you’re climbing into the back seat, you say, “Let’s just…we’ll drive by. If his truck is still in the drive way, then we’ll stop.”

Tommy turns in his seat. Presses his mouth firmly to yours, tongue sliding against your bottom lip. Kisses you hard, and smiles when he pulls away and you’re breathless and flushed. 

“What was that for?”

“‘Cause I love you,” he says.

He turns the engine over and chuckles lowly when he watches you press your cheek to your shoulder in the rearview mirror. Thinks it’s the cutest thing, watching you get all embarrassed. 

When you get to Joel’s, he’s waiting on the front porch. Keys in hand, lingering. Uneasy. 

But when Tommy pulls into the driveway, he climbs into the passenger seat with practiced ease. Sits there in that godforsaken, damnable silence.

You don’t speak, and neither does Tommy. The tension is…horrible. Makes Tommy’s stomach turn. He half expects Joel to glare or sigh or something.

But he doesn’t. He just…just sits. And flies out of the truck the moment Tommy pulls up to the job site.

You let out a long sigh the second Joel closes the passenger door behind him. “That was fucking awful,” you say, head lolling back against the seats.

Tommy reaches back and finds your hand. Squeezes it three times, saying I love you without actually using the words. “It’ll get easier,” he promises.

But it doesn’t. Not for a while, at least.

You start bringing him coffee in the mornings. You and Tommy share a cup over breakfast together, trying not to wake Sarah as she snores on the couch, and take one mug to-go

The first time, it’s an awkward exchange. Joel takes it with hesitation, reaching for it as if it were a snake poised to strike and not a gift out of the kindness of your heart. The first extended olive branch. 

But the next day is easier. He even utters a quiet, clipped, “Thanks.”

The silence breaks during that second week on the way home. 

Right before he gets out of Tommy’s truck, Joel turns to him and asks, “Sarah…is she…?”

“She’s alright, Joel,” Tommy reassures, staring right into his brother’s eyes so he knows he means it. “Safe. Still goin’ to school, still tutoring. About to take exams. Been studying pretty hard.”

He nods. Slow, thoughtful. And then he turns and sets his eyes on you. Doesn’t say much, but he doesn’t have to. The sorrow is there, plain as day, written on his face. “You’re still my kid,” he says. “No matter what.” 

When you tell Sarah about it that night over dinner, tears fill your eyes as you admit that you don’t regret your decision, but you still miss them. Miss Sunday dinners and the terrible movies Joel rents and those god awful dad jokes he makes. You miss the sound of your mom’s laughter and the way she always had food on the stove no matter what time of day it was.

Sarah rests her head on your shoulder. A small comfort, but it’s enough.

Things don’t really start to change until a month after your mom and Joel come back from their honeymoon.

It’s Saturday morning. Sarah doesn’t have classes and you don’t have work, so the three of you sit around the coffee table in the living room playing monopoly.

Sarah’s the banker, which Tommy warned would be a mistake the moment she took control of that little plastic tray full of paper money. And he’s complaining, saying, “I passed go two turns ago now. You owe me that two hundred an’ you’re trying to cheat me out of it.”

You’re a mess of laughter and so is Sarah, even though she’s shaking her head and vehemently denying it. “You don’t get the two hundred, I do! You landed on the boardwalk last turn and never paid your rent, that makes me the debt collector.”

“Makes you a damn cheater一!”

Tommy’s phone rings on the corner of the table, Joel’s name flashing across the screen, effectively silencing all three of you.

He answers it slowly, hands trembling. “Hey, Joel. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah…I, uh…was just callin’ to see if…if maybe you guys wanted to一to go out to breakfast? The five of us? Like, uhm…I dunno. Like old times. That little restaurant over on Jefferson, uhm…what do you…?”

You’re the one who speaks. Leaning in close to the phone in Tommy’s hand. “Is my mom okay with that?”

“It was her idea, actually,” Joel answers.

You look between them. First at Tommy, then at Sarah. Searching for something to make this easier, but knowing in the back of your mind that nothing will.

In the end, it’s Sarah who makes the decision. “We’ll be there,” she tells Joel. “Meet in an hour?”

The cadence of his words is a little higher when he speaks again, thick with relief to hear his daughter’s voice for the first time in weeks. “Yeah, of course. We’ll see you then.”

You get ready together,leaving  the monopoly game abandoned on the table. Sarah braids your hair in front of the bathroom mirror and you return the favor when she’s finished. Sisters, through and through, and it warms Tommy’s heart to see it. 

When you pick out a pretty sundress to wear, Tommy zips up the back and drags his knuckles gently over the top of your spine. Feels a sense of deja vu, except this time there’s no tears. No impending sense of doom.

Just safety. Just home.

“Whatever happens,” he says, “I’ll still be here. Yeah? Always got me, baby.”

Sarah drives, and Tommy tucks his too long legs into the back seat of her car so you can sit beside her.

Your mom and Joel are already at the restaurant when you get there. She avidly avoids your eyes, and Tommy notices that her hands shake in the same way yours do when you’re nervous.

He reaches out to you with his fingers, lacing them through yours, and finds them still. No tremble to be found. Not even clammy. Unwavering and certain, unafraid to face the changes ahead. His perfect, brave girl. 

Joel holds the door open for everyone and nods when his eyes find Tommy’s. “S’good we’re doin’ this,” he says. “Long overdue.”

The waitress is a young girl, likely just now old enough to have a job. She stumbles over her words as she grabs five menus and leads you to a round table near the back of the open space. The air smells like syrup and seared bacon and stale coffee. The kind of place that’s seen years and will probably see a hundred more.

Tommy sits on one side of you, Sarah on the other. A makeshift wall of protection. Feeble, though, because Tommy knows good and well that they’re unable to keep you safe from the kind of hurt that’s already been burrowing deep.

Your mother, still, doesn’t speak. Doesn’t look at your face. 

The young woman takes everyone's drink orders, writing them down with a fuzzy and glittering pink pen on a little yellow notebook.

You touch her hand, just before she leaves. Say thank you and tell her that you like her necklace. A dainty, gold chain with a heart shaped ruby in the center.

She smiles wide, relaxing into your soft, easy energy the way everyone around you always does, explaining that it was a gift from her boyfriend for Valentine’s Day.

Tommy stares at the side of your face as you talk to her. Admires the way you always make everyone feel at home一not just him, but this waitress and the cashier at the grocery store and the old lady across the hall of his apartment and Miranda during her consultation.

The kindest, most selfless girl he’s ever met. And somehow, unbelievably, you come home each night to him.

He doesn’t deserve you. Thinks he probably never will. But, Christ…he’ll never stop trying.

Just before the waitress walks away, Tommy turns back to the table to find everyone staring. Right at him. Joel, Sarah, and your mom. All three caught him red handed, admiring you, seeing glimpses behind his eyes of that future together that no longer feels like only a fantasy.

His face heats.

The energy shifts from something tense and uncomfortable to something a little bit calmer, less heavy.

And then, finally, your mother speaks.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” she says, only to you. “I didn’t understand at first, but I think I’m starting to.” She turns to Tommy then. “I want you in our lives一both of you. I think I just need time to adjust. Can you…be patient with me?”

You reach across the table and take her trembling hands in yours, a comforting embrace. “Of course we can,” you answer honestly. Sure.

Real.

It doesn’t happen overnight. The change. The acceptance.

But breakfast is how it starts. 

You get the hard conversations out of the way first. Tell everyone that this wasn’t a sudden thing that just happened, admitting that it started long before the consultation in Stratford. And both your mom and Joel admit that, in hindsight, it was a bit obvious.

Tommy’s only a little surprised to discover that you’d told Sarah the truth months ago, shortly after they’d announced their engagement. The picture Sarah paints as she tells the story pains him.

She talks about coming home late one night, half drunk from cheap beer at a campus party. Says she’d found you still awake, crying quietly beneath your sheets. She hadn’t asked at first, just crawled into bed beside you and held you tight until you could catch your breath.

In your distress, you’d whispered the whole truth to your little sister who hadn’t even flinched upon learning it.

“Wasn’t my job to tell her who to love,” Sarah explained simply. “Was just my job to love her anyway.” 

She says it with a slight edge to her voice, and Tommy doesn’t miss the glare she casts across the table.

The next week, your mom invites you and Tommy over for Sunday dinner and Sarah moves back into her room at Joel’s house not long after. 

Tommy overhears you and Joel talking one night in the kitchen after watching a new age western he rented. Joel promises that you still have a place in his home, swears that you always have, even during that first month, even though he was angry. Says you’re more than welcome to come back, too.

But you don’t take him up on the offer. Tell him that Tommy is your home. That he’s always been. “The only difference now is that I’m not afraid to say it.”

And Joel respects it. He doesn’t poke or prod or try to dissuade you. Just gives a short nod in response and says, “Alright, then. Well…you don’t have to. That’s your room. Always will be, an’ I wanna make that clear. But…f’ya want, we can move the rest of your stuff out next weekend. I can help bring it over.”

The uncomfortability eases with each passing day. You spend some time alone with your mom. Book shopping and errands and gardening in the back yard.

Tommy spends time with Joel, too. They go to a consultation together in Sweetbriar and it feels good. Like old times. Joel starts to laugh again at Tommy’s inappropriate jokes and takes all of his concerns to heart about the property. 

And on the way home, with Johnny Cash playing low on the speakers in Tommy’s truck, Joel makes an admission that Tommy never thought he’d hear. 

“You know, I…I didn’t raise her. Can’t take full credit for that. But I’d like to think that I played a hand in raisin’ you.”

Tommy swallows. Knows Joel’s remembering their father the same way he is—the loud nights, the heavy fists.

Joel clears his throat. “An’ I know it took me a minute to come around to the idea, but I think you’re good for each other. Can see the way you keep her safe. Guess, at the end of the day, that’s all I’ve ever really wanted for her. And she…I don’t know. Slows you down. Focuses you. Can see the way you’re tryin’ to be a better man for her, an’ just wanted to say that I’m…m’proud of you, Tommy. Proud of you both.”

It’s the first time in all his life he’s ever heard those words from his brother.

He has to focus on the road to abate the stinging in his eyes.

Tommy forces a laugh. Changed the energy to something more lighthearted. Something easier for them both. “You sayin’ I’m slow, big brother?”

Joel scoffs and shakes his head and shoves Tommy’s shoulder, but there’s a big smile on his face while he does it.

Things change gradually. Slowly mending the bridges you’d set fire to in the process of keeping true to yourself.

When the dryers at Tommy’s apartment go out again, your mom insists that you just start doing it once a week at Joel’s. And that becomes a tradition, too. Just like Sunday dinners. You bring over your laundry Wednesdays after work, and always get sent home with cookies or pastries or a copy of a new book your mom recommends to you.

She kisses your cheek before you leave, and makes you swear to call if you need anything. Says, “And the same goes for you, Tommy.”

But you never call, because you never need anything. Not when you have each other.

He finishes the blueprints of your home on a random Tuesday night. Lays them out flat on the floor in the kitchen to show you the full layout.

Tommy’s got a pencil tucked behind his ear, and you’ve got your hair tied up in a towel, fresh out of the shower, wearing only his t-shirt and a pair of fuzzy pink socks.

The two of you sit on the kitchen floor, hunched over the large paper, eyes focused as you point at each entrance and exit, double and triple checking everything that could be wrong. Making sure it’s right, that it’s exactly what you want. 

He can hear Joel’s teachings in each question you ask. Tommy pulls the pencil from behind his ear and makes small edits as you go over it.

The two of you spend twenty minutes there, sitting on the kitchen floor of his apartment. Debating, deciding, going back and forth. Minor adjustments.

And then you turn to look over at him, eyes all starry. Smiling big.

Tommy laughs. “What?”

“Nothing, just…we’re really doing this,” you say, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Gonna be a lot of work.”

Tommy slides his hand to the back of your neck. “Yeah, it will be,” he agrees, leaning forward to kiss you slowly. Not careful, not anymore. Just…reverant. Worshipping. Real. “But at least we’ll have each other. Right?”

You nod, forehead pressed against his. “Yeah,” you say, still grinning. Happier than Tommy’s ever seen you. “At least there’s that.”

Two peas in a fucking pod.

[check out @feelherlove who has made beautiful, gorgeous, incredible edits of this fic over on tiktok!]

note: god i love these two so much and the relief i felt writing this last chapter knowing that in the end they both found the courage to choose each other!!! lord have mercy

i want to thank a few people specifically that have been so much help throughout the entire writing process of this fic.

first and foremost is @sunshinegirl29 who genuinely has been one of my biggest cheerleaders since i posted part one of this fic. one of the sweetest people i've ever met, and ive loved talking about reader and uncle tommy with you. im forever grateful to you for always making me feel better every time i wasn't sure about something in this fic and for always rooting for me <3

second is @feelherlove, who was the first to make a tiktok edit of one of my fics, and i'm not even kidding you when it came across my fyp on tikok that first day i was sitting with friends at work eating lunch and had to leave because i was so happy and couldn't stop smiling. Stephanie, i love you so much girl and i've said it before and it'll say it again; i may have written this fic, but you're the one bringing it to life. <3

fourth is LIZZYYYY MY BELOVEDDD @thaliagracesgf for being so, so unbelievably supportive. i know you love uncle tommy just as much as i do and i cannot begin to explain how much i loved seeing your asks and comments every single chapter.

and last but not least is you, sweet reader. this fic would have gone on and remained a one shot had it not been for all of the kind things you've all said. whether it was a comment on the fic, an ask, a dm, i want you to know that you guys are what make this whole thing fun for me. i love writing, i always will, but the world can be an awful place these days and knowing that i could brighten someone's day, even a little bit, with my fangirl crazed words on a screen reminds me that even in all the chaos and negativity, you can still find a little goodness. and even if you can't, you can always create some.

so from the bottom of my heart, thank you <3

sorry just tell me to stfu

@theretrofuturista @chuutu @gabymalikk @nana90azevedo @alidiggory92 @marisemonteiroo @ivyinthesun @hollowgracie @moyavsemoya @feliciahardysgf @polkadotsocks1993 @malewifejoelmiller @mmmunson @ssssc0m @skye-44 @tateypots @joelscowgirl69 @dbs5647 @cuntyhunty22 @thaliagracesgf @whossbunny @jamespotterismydaddy @whatdoyoumeanhesnapped @rainydayathogwarts @urfavhanna @subconsciouscollapse @worhols @joyridinginzombieland @emmaaas-posts @millers-girl @strawberrytreecake @atjlovverr @magicxmiller @reidswifeyyyyyy @avaluna @joelsslutt @krystal---meth @bbhfilms @virginesquee @njdluvr @royaltyinlife @bunniacula @gojosanna @streamermattsgf @emmasveinyahhdih @yslgreen @dissentientss @rubyscooby @thisisajdesing @millersdoll @pattwtf @zoeyjadetice2010 @akah565 @mxxny-lupin @hammerhead1776 @angllvk4

[dividers by @/bernardsbendystraws]

[cuntyhunty22]

The happy ending 🥺🖤

[mourninggsickness-deactivated20]

noooo don’t put a gun to my head while we’re having sex nooooooo 🤥🤥🤥

[cuntyhunty22]

I need a dark Javi Peña fic written ASAP

[cupofzo]

Everyone moved on from him WAY to fast.

[littledes1re]

Sweet stuffed mess

Pairing: Oldman!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Just sweet old daddy Joel overstimulating and filling his girl until she can’t take it anymore :( porn w/o plot basically

Warnings: 18+, Smut, daddy kink, ddlg, creampie, breeding kink, pinv, unprotected sex, overstimulation, age gap (60s and 20s), multiple orgasms, squirting, fingering, the softest Joel, dom!joel,

A/N: clearing out my drafts and found this…phew. After the angsty chapters of @/coffeeguitar, this is much needed😌

A sweet stuffed mess…that’s what he calls you when he has your legs open, and your cunt stretched—already pumped full of his cum countless times.

His thrusting always beginning after an orgasm again, your eyes keep rolling back, your limbs almost feel like they’re numb, and you can’t do much other than to take it.

“Look at this little hole…so full of me.”

His voice hoarse, deep, sending shivers down your spine.

He would pull the hood of your clit, fixating on the most sensitive part of your little nub—rubbing slow, gentle circles. Your legs tired, always locking in, and clenching when you cum, he would let you ride it out—by pulling his cock out, rubbing your sweet nub faster, the white mess just oozing out of your cunny making him coo.

“Sweet stuffed mess.”

Quick breaths leave your lips, the air in the room feeling thick, sweat clinging on your skin. But he would not stop—not after the five orgasms you already had and definitely not when he fucks you to the sixth.

And Joel wouldn’t even know why he feels so feral. Maybe it’s the way you fell asleep with that small, pretty dress of yours. Maybe it’s because your cunt was open for him to see, given that you never wear panties around him.

Small whimpers keep falling from your lips. “Can’t…” over and over again, even if you know that there is no use, as you feel his tip touching your entrance once more.

A hand laying softly against your cheek, stroking away the tears. He would shake his head, murmuring a “Nonsense. I know m’girl.” His thumb softly landing on your clit, starting to circle. “You’re doin’ so well for daddy…squeezing him so tight, yea?”

Of course, he knows he can’t except an answer right now. His sweet girl being so fucked out, that her brain already stopped thinking about anything other than his cock.

And when he fills you up again, you see stars. A ring of sperm forms around his cock when he pulls out and thrusts back in, making him grin. His gaze fixated on your swollen pussy. Red, aching and too sore for your own damn good.

A hiccup leaving your lips. “Daddy…”

“Daddy’s here, angel. Y’gonna cum for me again, aren’t you?” He would ask, oh so sweetly, already feeling your cunt squeezing so tightly around him, and your thighs shaking.

But you can only shake your head, thinking maybe this time it could break you. His thrusts would never speed up, instead, going in a slow, but hard rhythm—always making sure to touch your sweet spot.

And when he pulls the hood of your clit, once again, to rub directly at the little nub, a loud cry would leave your lips.

“Shh, shh you’re okey.” A kiss placed on your forehead, the other hand cupping at your cheek, eyes fixated on on your face. “You’re okey, focus on me.” Drool falling from your chin, tears stained cheeks and red swollen lips—his favourite part whenever he fucks you.

“Feel her already clenching down on me…fuck.” He would whisper, kissing your cheek, your neck, while you would bite your lips harder already tasting blood.

“You’re ready again.”

Shaking your head, hysterically crying out:

“daddydaddydaddy”

“I know, sweet girl.” When he feels your clit pulsing underneath his thumb. And a “There she goes.” when you start cumming unexpectedly—pushing his cock out, a stream of gush leaving your pussy. He would only coo, his finger on your clit speeding up. Your hips bucking as you release gush after gush, soaking his torso and making him smile.

“Let it all out, that’s my goood girl, yea…” his eyes watching you squirt. “My good girl.”

And while you’re still recovering from that orgasm, Joel would just fill you back up again. This time, his body resting on top of you, making you unable to move.

“No, no, no. Please—can’t anymore, daddy.” You would whine, cry, sob and squirm with no success. He would start pounding into you, this time—concentrating on his pleasure.

“Almost there, angel.” Sweetly cooing in your ear. “Gonna fill you one more time, yea? This time it’s gonna take.”

His lips would press against your temple, while speeding up with his thrusts, going harder and sloppier, hushing you softly. You feel your tummy clenching once again, the pleasure in your pussy almost burning.

“Good, goood. Y’gonna soak daddy again, aren’t you?”

You would shake your head.

“Yes, you are. C’mon sweet baby, one last time. Release it all.”

With that your body would completely shake, your breathing stop as waves of your climax go through your body, gushing hard around his cock. Joel would groan into your ear, biting into your shoulder and release all he has left into you. His cock pulsing in your pussy, releasing spurt after spurt into you, filling you once more, to the brim.

“Oh, my poor baby.” As you shake and cry beneath him, while trying to come down from your many, many orgasms.

He would swiftly pull out, a glob of cum leaving your hole landing on the sheets. You release another cry when he plugs you back with his two fingers, fucking his cum slowly back into you.

“Did so, so well for me, angel. This time it has to take, huh? Look at all this cream.” He would whisper, gently thrusting his fingers in and out.

“Gonna keep that all in you yea?”

And a small rub of your clit would take all for you to release once again, this time more softly and quietly, clenching on his fingers slowly. His eyes widening a bit, not expecting it to happen.

“Daddy.” A small whimper. “So sensitive that you came from just a small touch, baby.” He chuckles. He gently pulls his fingers out and gathers you into his arms, “Daddy is here. Daddy is always here, hon.” And after soothing your nerves and calming you down, he would put a pillow under your ass and make you lay there with your hips into the air, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, until you would fall asleep.

This is so filthy wtf someone just take this phone away from me

Taglist: @vickie5446 @a-goose-on-mars @thatgirlmendo @ihearttdilfs @pickyeater13 @sweetiegirl16 @keseqna @shivispunk @cuntyhunty22 @kyloispunk @marisemonteiroo @meetmeatyourworst @joelmillerswife9 @iveseenstrangerthings50 @idrkman @lovelystrawberrysblog @vanishintoyoubby @dlwrish @brittmb115 @xcallmetaniax @umadirectioner @millersweetheart @wildthyng @armandispunk

[cuntyhunty22]

Been missing this story... been working on part 3 a bit today..

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 1 image

💬 5  🔁 25  ❤️ 84 · SWITCHING THE POSITIONS FOR YOU. · • Mature content 18 plus Javier Peña x reader Description: reader is a journalist..

[cuntyhunty22]

Guess who has the urge to write... but guess who has to work.... 😒😒😒

[bemyluvr]

Human Nature

Joel x reader separate!! Tommy x reader

Been thinking all day about the Miller brothers, and their love languages. Joel, an acts of service man vs Tommy, a words of affirmation guy. The stark difference between the two of them, and how differently it impacts the way they eat you out, after coming back from a long patrol. 

cw: MDNI 18+,  eating pussy, somnophilia, pet names, joel humping the bed, joel cumming in his jeans, spit, vaginal fingering, tommy’s an ass man, slight gentledom!tommy, reader has body issues, some self confidence issues, reader has enough fat to grab, eating it from the back, the word asshole, face sitting, even more fingering, readers got no panties in every universe 

wc: 1.8k

Bones ache as Joel walks into your shared home. After a long day, all he can think of is you. Stepping into the living room he sits on the couch, groaning as he unlaces his boots. Dried mud flicks onto the wooden flooring, as he slips the boots off his feet. Sliding off his smelly coat, he stands up, slowly unbuttoning his green flannel, making his way to the bedroom. Creaking the door open he sees you, dressed in his favorite pale-blue nightie snoring away. The small lamp on the bedside table illuminates your features as you softly sleep.

“You look so pretty like this” Joel thinks to himself, as he soaks in your beauty.

The garment is cut just below the curve of your belly, the soft flesh, rising up and down as you breathe heavily in your slumber. Looking up to the valley of your breasts, the material thins out into a delicate lace, showcasing the shape of your puffy nipples.

Joel adjusts himself in his pants, as he bends down, knees cracking as they meet the soft cushion of the mattress.

He can’t contain himself, getting a closer look he notices you went without panties for the night.

“Waitin’ up for your old man” he thought, taking his dirty hands, he opens your thighs, wide enough to get a glimpse of your glistening cunt. His hand circles your knee without him realizing it, as he leans his head towards your body.

Inhaling, Joel takes a deep breath as he breathes in your scent. His hips instinctively buckle against the pillowy surface as he grunts, infatuated by your smell.

Running his nose against your thigh, he continues his worship, planting small wet kisses against the soft skin.

Taking his hand, he spreads open your lips, gathering the saliva on his tongue he tuts, spitting on your clit. He watches as the gob runs down to your entrance and he can’t take it anymore.

Joel licks up the wet mess he created, tonguing from your entrance, up to your clit.

Joel eats you like he’s starved, and truly, he is. All day long he’s been thinking about you, how you’d taste on his tongue, all the ways he could claim you as his. You take such good care of him, loving him for him, flaws and all. He’d think he didn’t deserve it, trying to show you through his actions how much he loves you and appreciates you sticking by him. He’s a man of action, always waking up extra early to make you breakfast, or fixing the dripping faucet in the bathroom as soon as you bring it up, he knows how to satisfy you, in more ways than one.

That’s why his favorite place in the world is down here, between your knees, giving you orgasams, one after the other, and you couldn’t be more lucky.

As Joel circles his tongue against the perfect spot against your nub, you awake. Gasping, you raise up on your elbows, looking down seeing the greying hair from the man you call yours, sending you closer to the edge.

“Sorry, looked too good, couldn’t help myself,” Joel mumbles in between licks.

You're a mess, forehead drenched in sweat, as your spaghetti strap falls off your shoulder, breast long fallen out of the fabric. Pushing your hips against his mouth, you feel your orgasm approaching, and of course, Joel already knows it’s coming before you do.

Joel’s in a similar predicament, rutting his hips against the bed, the denim of his jeans hitting just right, mixed with the taste of you and the friction in his boxers, he can’t help himself.

“Been waitin’ for this all day, couldn’t focus, needed this, needed you.” He grunts out, words barely audible as you squeeze his head between the plush of your thighs.

Your body convulses, a mix of curses and whimpers fall from your breath, as you feel the warm feeling approaching in your belly.

“C’mon baby, give it to me, need it so bad.” Joel begs through pained breaths, as he halts his hips, edging his own release.

He sticks two fingers towards your entrance, gathering slick he inserts them in one fluid motion, flicking them in a ‘come here’ motion, matching the pace of his mouth and you screaming.

At the same time Joel’s grunting, as he cums thick ropes in his pants, soiling the fabric.

You both lay there for a moment, coming down from your highs. Feeling Joel’s scruff against your skin, “How about I run us a bath?” He asks, pecking a kiss against your flesh, standing up holding his hand out, waiting for you to join him.

Heavy footsteps knock you out of your thoughts as you circle the spatula in the pan you were using, cooking dinner for you and the man you were anxiously waiting on. Laying the wooden utensil on the counter, you turn around, meeting the eyes of Tommy.

“Woulda look at that, I’m a lucky man ain’t I?” He announces, eyes raking up and down your figure.

Today in town, you traded a pair of snug jeans for a tiny yellow sundress. Bargaining on if it would fit, you took the risk, with the garment being too pretty to pass up.

Getting home you slipped the dress on, and miraculously, it fit perfectly. The dress hung just above your knees, snug around the curve of your hips, and cut low enough your tits sat perfectly. Looking in the mirror you knew you looked good, deciding to wear it just for Tommy.

“Not sure what looks better, you or dinner.” Tommy says, grabbing your hand to twirl you around, not hiding his gawking of your frame.

Reaching for the spatula, you continued to stir the sauce, as Tommy came up close behind you. Grabbing your free arm, he peppers kisses up your bicep, mustache tickling your skin. He takes the same hand, fingers freeing the space of your neck from the flowing locks of hair, planting his lips against the warm skin. He stands there watching you cook, eyes drifting from the pan to the valley of your breasts. Feeling him grumble, you turn to look at him, at the same time, Tommy pushes his hips into you. Gasping, his free hand grips the fat on your side, pushing you harder into him.

“Thinkin’ bout this all damn day baby,” he admits, calloused fingers massaging your hip. You sigh into his touch, throwing your head back against his shoulder as he snakes his hands to grip your ass. Tommy takes a handful, rubbing his hand around the flesh, “no panties?” He questions, looking down at your face.

“Materials too tight, didn’t want panty lines.” You admit, shyly at his forwardness.

“Good thinkin’, makes it easier for me.” Tommy says, as he sinks down into the kitchen floor, peeling the fabric of your dress up, bunching it to your belly button.

You choke on your breath, skin prickling against the exposed air against your pussy.

Tommy takes in the view of your ass, planting a kiss to each cheek, “be a doll and spread ’em for me honey.” He asks, assertively but not demanding, running his rough hand along your smooth leg. You spread your legs just like he asked, slightly embarrassed, you bend your hips down slightly, so he can get a good look at the wetness between your thighs.

“Pretty as a picture,” he gleams, popping the ‘p’ sound.

“Prettiest little thing I ever did see, standing right here in my kitchen.” He continues his compliments, easing your nervousness.

Sometimes you still get nervous around him, especially when you get undressed, never feeling the most attractive or appreciative of your own body. Since the day you met him, Tommy has always said exactly what’s on his mind. He’s a man of words who speaks to what he wants, and has never shied away from letting you know how beautiful he thinks you are. You can be elbows deep in the garden, wearing his old shirt, dirt smeared on your face, or dressed up nicely, doing your hair up, and slipping on the nicest dress you own, and Tommy would look at you the same each time. He’s truly grateful someone as perfect as you, would express interest in him, complimenting him almost as much as he does you.

Continuing his staring into your soaking heat, he takes his hands and spreads your cheeks the rest of the way, licking a stripe from your clit to your asshole, groaning at the taste.

“Fuckin’ perfect honey,” Tommy grumbles, as he eats you out. Urgently moving his lips and tongue against you, he quickly finds the sweet spot on your bead, licking fast circles around it. Gripping the counter, you turn the stove off, as the pleasure overpowers your senses. You arch into him, almost sitting on his face as he places more pressure against your clit, causing you to pant.

Tommy snakes a hand to your neglected hole, sticking his middle finger and forefinger in at the same time, stretching the muscle, scissoring them in and out of you.

Seeing stars, you feel your orgasm approach, fast and hard your cumming against his face, rubbing yourself against his face shamelessly, riding out your climax.

You flinch as he takes his face out from under you, and he looks a mess. His curls are all over the place, mouth swollen and lips shiny, but he couldn’t look happier. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand he gives you a lopsided grin, “how ‘bout we go ahead and eat, so I can do that again.”

[cuntyhunty22]

📷 six non selfie photos

Thanks for the tag @half-moon16 🫶🏼✨

Tags: @ohhoneypascal @mandaloriankait @mani-pedro @shaunasrabbit

[shaunasrabbit]

Still Here | QZ!Joel x F!Reader

Explicit. Minors DNI. Part X.

Summary: Joel's still here.

Tags: ***TAG OMITTED TO AVOID SPOILERS*** so please see the footnote at the end or read at your own risk. No use of y/n, reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns, some physical descriptions (has a bush because #bushnation, has hair that can be pulled, and is curvy if you squint), angst but there's some sweetness idk, mean!Joel, dom!Joel, bratty!reader, use of good girl and other pet names, verbal degradation, dirty talk, spanking, hair pulling, a lil jealousy, a lil possessiveness, spit, fingering, underwear fucking(?), Joel "just the tip" Miller. If I missed any tags, please let me know!

Word count: ~4.9K

Read on AO3

A/N: I have no idea how to tag the smut in this chapter, but it's dirty and I hope you love it. This chapter is uhhhhh...something! Enjoy? Lightly proofread this myself, so my apologies for any typos. All on me. As always, likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated. Thank you for reading! Divider by @/saradika-graphics

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Clattering in the kitchen wakes you up.

Usually, this would be alarming, but something tells you there’s no threat here, so you let yourself adjust to the sunlight and stretch your sore, naked body. It’s been some time since you’ve been able to feel it the next day. Even if it wasn’t Joel’s cock in you, it was his doing and for that, you’re grateful. Rolling over, you notice that the covers aren’t pulled back. Either he made the other side of the bed when he got up or he didn’t slip under the blankets at all. He did stay, right? The commotion in the kitchen says yes, but it feels like a dream. 

Late night confessions have become a thing for you and Joel. So has falling asleep after. Maybe it’s because you’re always getting fucked beforehand and the exhaustion overtakes you. Maybe you’re afraid the moment will be ruined if you keep talking. In any case, last night was no exception. Just an I miss you in the dark and the sweet, protective cover of sleep. 

Peeling yourself out of bed, you trudge into the bathroom, still groggy from just waking up. You sit on the toilet, cursing yourself under your breath for the UTI you’ll probably get since you didn’t bother peeing after sex last night. You’ll have to scrounge for some antibiotics. After doing a half-assed version of your typical morning routine, you head to the kitchen, clad in your underwear and Joel’s flannel; he must have taken it off last night after you fell asleep. 

Leaning against the archway, you cross your arms and look at the man in front of you. Joel, broad and weathered, is hunched over your coffee percolator. Pulled taut, Joel’s heather gray t-shirt accentuates his back muscles. While you’re gawking at him and admiring his form, wetness pools between your thighs. You shift from one foot to another to try to quell the ache. 

“Morning,” you say, stepping through the frame. 

“All those damn ration cards,” he grumbles, “and you ain’t got shit in the fridge.” 

Joel’s a morning person. Obviously. 

“Oh, you’re in a good mood this morning,” you say, walking over to the counter to lean back against it lazily. Furrowing your brows, you cock your head to the side, catching a glimpse of his face. Joel’s eyelids are heavy and are accented by dark circles underneath. “Did you sleep at all?” 

He grunts in response, sliding one of your chipped mugs across the counter towards you. When the mug meets your hand, a splash of scalding hot coffee lands on your knuckles and you hiss through your teeth, shaking it off. Joel doesn’t notice as he’s already settling down at your rickety kitchen table. The last time he was sitting there, your face was bloody, swollen from where Wade had hit you. Joel’s hands tenderly cleaned you up. Your heart swells at the memory, but you force yourself to tear your attention away and walk towards the table, taking a seat across from him. The chair squeals as you sit down.

Joel’s eyes trace your features as he sips his coffee. His stare is intense and it makes you uneasy. You mirror him, taking a swig of your coffee and subsequently burning your tongue. Is it the taste or the pain that’s worse on your tongue? Wincing, you shake your head and set it down. You should know better by now. 

“This tastes like shit,” you comment. 

“Missed my training shift at Starbucks thanks to the end of the world,” he snarks. 

Shaking your head, you tut at him. “You’re never going to be employee of the month, Joel.” 

He leans back and shifts his jaw with a look somewhere between annoyance and amusement toying on his face. “I made you coffee and you’re bitchin’ about it?” He scoffs. “Pain in my ass.” 

You laugh—a real laugh like the one last night with Adam, although this time it’s not induced by alcohol. Just Joel. He finally lets the smile take over his face, but he can’t hold eye contact with you, his eyes flickering down at the mug in his hands. Turning it slightly, you catch a glimpse of the design on the side. It’s your handwriting. Big, sloppy letters spell out BEST DAD EVR in mismatched colors. Joel looks between you and the mug. In real time, he’s registering the words, but he doesn’t realize it’s homemade.

“Don’t even say it,” he warns, shaking his head. 

“Don’t say what?” you ask. 

“You were gonna make a dirty joke. Callin’ me daddy or some—”

“Oh my god,” you cut him off, laughing to distract yourself by how hot your face is becoming. You can’t tell if you’re embarrassed or turned on. Either way, you take the opportunity to fuck with Joel. “I was not going to call you daddy while you hold the mug I made for my dead dad.” 

His face falls and you instantly feel guilty, worrying that you didn’t make it clear that you’re pulling his leg. Joel glances down at his hands that are wrapped around the mug, and his shoulders suddenly seem tense. Clearing his throat, he says, “‘M sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Joel, it’s fine,” you reassure him. Sipping your coffee, you give him a smile. “I’m just teasing you.”

Silently, he nods. His expression is unreadable. You think back to the whispers you’ve heard about Joel’s life before the outbreak. It’s easy to imagine him sitting in a kitchen like this—well, not like this necessarily, definitely nicer—drinking his coffee with his kid across from him. You bet he used to smile a lot based on the creases on his face. 

“You are a dad though, right?” Your voice is small, sheepish. Swallowing hard, you wait for his response. With each second that passes, you wonder what possessed you to even ask.

“Was.” 

The word hangs in the air. 

“I don’t think you ever just stop being a dad even if…” The sentence trails off. You don’t need to say it and Joel doesn’t need to hear it. Quietly, you say, “I bet you were a good one.” 

“Don’t know about that.” Joel’s voice breaks and you think your heart broke along with it. There’s no doubt in your mind that under that rough shell, there’s a soft man who would do anything for someone he loves. After all, there has to be love for there to be loss and loss hardens love. “Definitely wasn’t”—he looks at the mug—“best dad ever.”

“Well, neither was my dad,” you reply with a chuckle. “One time, he was carrying me upstairs and dropped me. All the way down.” 

“Did you break anythin’?” he asks.

“Surprisingly, no.”

He shrugs. “Coulda been worse, then.” 

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, occasionally looking at each other, but mainly just finishing your drinks before they become cold. There’s a comfort in this quietness and, for you, a sense of accomplishment. You never thought you’d get Joel to open that door and even if it’s merely cracked open a sliver, that’s enough for you. Mind drifting back to last night, you decide to push your luck.

“So, you miss me, huh?” you ask, breaking the silence.

Joel’s eyes drop to his hands as he nods slowly. “Don’t know if I shoulda said that,” he responds. “S’not fair to you.”

Your brows knit together, the crease between them becoming prominent. A familiar tightness settles in your chest. This is going to end like every conversation with Joel. Fighting or fucking. Maybe both. 

“You irritate the hell outta me. You’re fuckin’ stubborn and mouthy,” he says, leaning back in his chair. You scoff, and start to reply, but Joel continues. “But you’re real smart and beautiful and…hell, you’re gonna make me regret saying this, but you’re—”

“Funny, hilarious?” you interject, smug and batting your eyelashes. You’re doing your best to play it cool, but your heart hammers in your chest. Sure, some insults preceded, but Joel just complimented you. Truly complimented you. “Is that where you were going with that?” 

“S’exactly what I mean. Knew you were gonna ruin it,” he says, shaking his head like he can shake the smile off of his face, Etch A Sketch style. It seems to work because his expression drops. “All’a that’s why I can’t…fuck.”

Joel runs a hand over his tired face and closes his eyes for a moment. There’s a part of you that’s sort of amused by how he’s fumbling through this, and another part of you that’s impressed by his attempt regardless of how terribly he’s doing. You decide to give him a minute, let him figure it out. 

“I ain’t good at this,” he finally says. 

“I’m not much better,” you admit. “Look, last night was…a long night. We don’t have to talk about this right now.”

Joel hums in response, tapping his knuckles on the table. Standing up, you gather your empty mugs and put them in the sink. As you turn to face Joel, you knock the empty percolator off the counter. You curse under your breath as you bend over to pick up the dismembered pieces. At least it’s easy to put back together. After grabbing the final part, you begin to stand up, but a large hand runs over your ass and you freeze. 

“Nice view?” you ask as you stand upright, setting the percolator on the counter. 

Joel’s hand flattens over the curve of your ass, squeezing it gently just once. You swallow a sigh even though your entire body feels like it’s on fire. His touch is all you’ve been craving. 

“The best,” he rasps, pining you against the counter. 

With your back against his chest and his arm between the two of you, he kneads your soft flesh. Joel moves your hair out of the way for ease of access to your neck. Leaning in, he brushes his lips against your pulse point and his scruff scratches you, giving you goosebumps. 

“Joel,” you sigh, letting your head tip back on his shoulder. “We shouldn’t do—”

“No? Then how come you’re walkin’ around in my flannel with this pretty ass hanging out?” he asks, hand moving from your ass to toy with the hem. “Think you know exactly what you’re doin’, sweetheart.” 

There’s no denying that you wanted to tease him when you got dressed. Well, sort of dressed. Considering he didn’t lay a hand on you last night, you didn’t think he’d take the bait. Here you are, though, with Joel’s rough hands running along your sides, taking in each and every curve. Your skin is burning hot from his touch and wetness is already pooling in your panties. 

“Fuck,” you curse. “Take this off of me.”

“What do you say?” Joel whispers, his arms reaching around you to play with the buttons. 

You roll your eyes, not in the mood to be teased after months of being without him inside of you. “Now.” 

Joel drops his hands from the flannel and backs up, shoving you forward so your face is pressed to the counter. A whine escapes you and you try to press your ass into Joel, but he’s too far away. His heavy hand on your back keeps you there, bent over for him. 

“S’not the magic word, sugar,” he says. “Try again or I’ll walk right outta here.”

“God, you’re an asshole,” you grumble. 

A sharp smack lands on your ass and you squeeze your eyes shut, unabashedly moaning from the pleasure of the sting. Joel sucks his teeth. Although you can’t see him, you’re sure he’s shaking his head. 

“I’ll give you one more chance to get it right,” he warns. 

“Or what?” You laugh. “You’ll walk out? Doubt it.”

Joel spanks you again, harder this time. When you yelp, he just hits you again and again. Your skin burns and tears prick at your eyes, but your pussy clenches with each blow. If Joel checked, he’d find you absolutely drenched. 

One particularly harsh hit steals the breath from you. “Fuck! Okay, please, Joel.” 

“S’better,” he says, rubbing a hand on your swollen ass to soothe you. “That so hard?” 

Before you get the chance to answer, Joel pulls you up by your hair, making you hiss through your teeth. Spinning you around, he presses his hips to yours to hold you against the counter. With a stark gentleness, he slowly undoes the buttons, exposing you more and more as he goes along. 

“You really been fuckin’ that idiot?” he asks. Your face grows hot and you nod. Joel raises an eyebrow, pausing before he gets to the final button. “Are you that cock hungry?”

“It’s not…” Sighing, you undo the last button yourself. “He can’t fuck me like you.” 

“Oh, I know,” he says. Joel has that hungry look in his eyes laced with a sort of smugness that you hate. “Can’t even make you come without fuckin’ help, but I always take care of you, darlin’.” 

“You do,” you affirm, nodding a little too eagerly like he’ll reward you just for agreeing with him.

Joel’s hands rest on either side of your neck before he drags them down the slope of your shoulders, taking the flannel with them. It drops to the floor. His eyes trail down from your lips to your breasts and he wets his bottom lip. Lips planting kisses on your collarbone, he makes his way down to your pebbled nipples. He swirls his tongue around one and then the other, pulling a breathy moan from you. Your hand finds his hair, tangling your fingers in his graying curls. This feels right, natural.

With an obscene pop, he lets go of your nipple and guides you to the table by your waist. Joel helps you up onto the table and you wrap your legs around him, giving him a perfect view of your soaked panties. Your face gets hot as he stares at the result of his spanking and teasing. Joel runs a finger down your clothed slit and you whine, desperate for more. It’s all you’ve been thinking about since Joel walked out of your apartment a few months ago. 

“So worked up and I’ve barely touched you, sweetheart.” His voice drips with condescension which only makes you wetter. The mocking never fails to get you going. “Christ, he really hasn’t been fucking you like you need.” 

“Give me what I need,” you say, grabbing at his shirt to pull it off. He helps you take it off and your eyes are glued to his broad chest. You run your hands over the gray hair that decorates his chest along with aging scars. In a softer voice, you beg, “Please, Joel.” 

“Look at you, usin’ your manners for once,” he coos, cupping your jaw with one hand and rubbing your covered clit with the other. “Alright, baby. Since you asked so nicely.” 

Joel presses the heel of his palm to your clit, rubbing with intense pressure. With his fingers, he shoves your underwear into your wet cunt and you whine at dull sensation, wanting more. Considering how badly you’ve wanted him, you’re not going to even think about complaining. Instead, you grind against him to maximize the pleasure on your clit. Each time he shoves his fingers back into your cunt, your underwear becomes increasingly wet and it begins to slide in and out with ease. The squelching sounds that fill the room are lewd, and it mixes deliciously with your whimpers and the quiet expletives from Joel as he watches your panties become utterly soaked. Moving your panties to the side to look at your glistening cunt, Joel purses his lips and a hefty strand of spit lands on your slit. 

“Jesus,” Joel mutters, sucking his teeth. His hands drop to his belt and he undoes it quickly, springing free his painfully erect cock out without pulling his pants down. He strokes his dick twice, exposing the swollen, red tip. “You’re mine, aren’t ya? My sweet slut doesn’t drip like this for anyone else.” 

You whine and reach forward to grab Joel’s hard cock, but he grabs your wrist and stops you, holding it up with a tight grip. “I-I’m yours,” you say, breathy and desperate. “Please, fuck me. Make me yours.” 

Something about Joel makes your shame melt away. Begging doesn’t feel embarrassing right now. There’s a freedom to being like this with him—some sense of safety and security. You wonder when it got like this and how.

“No,” Joel says, shaking his head while he taps his cock on your clothed clit. “You said we shouldn’t, so we won’t.” 

Motherfucker.

“You always say I’m a dumb whore, right? Why would you listen to me?” You’re not sure if this is the best tactic, but it’s the best you can do. It’s hard to think straight when Joel’s teasing you like this. 

All he does is laugh cruelly and you whine in response, wiggling your ass towards the edge of the table to get closer to him. Joel’s index fingers slip into both sides of your panties and he drags them through your juices, making you moan. Your frustration is nearly palpable, manifesting through your cunt that keeps clenching around nothing. He just keeps teasing you like this before he rips a hole right by your entrance. The perfect size for his cock. Joel could slip right in if he wanted to. 

“Are you fucking kidding? I liked this pair,” you groan. 

“Don’t give a shit. I like ‘em better like this,” he says matter-of-factly. 

His tone is nothing short of infuriating. Everything in you wants to snap at him, but when he slips his cock under the fabric and nestles the tip between your folds, your mind goes blank. He isn’t even penetrating you and you can’t think straight. You moan his name quietly and buck your hips to chase any sort of friction. 

“Yeah, s’what I thought, sweetheart,” he says as he begins to glide his cock through your slick. Each time his tip rubs your clit, you feel more arousal leak from your slit. You close your eyes, tipping your head back to moan. Joel’s hand meets the back of your neck and forces you to look at him. “C’mon, look at me. Eyes here.” 

Joel picks up the pace, fucking into your soaked underwear. Your eyes drop down and your mouth is agape as you watch his cock protruding underneath your panties. Gaze flickering back to Joel and his blown out pupils, you’re in awe of how satisfying this feels despite his cock not even being inside of you. Joel presses his forehead to yours and the two of you are groaning and panting, mouths nearly touching but not quite. 

Holding yourself back from kissing him feels nearly impossible, but you miraculously do it. Instead, you kiss along his jaw, his scruff prickling your lips. When you make your way to his neck, biting the prominent vein there, Joel groans and tightens his grip on your neck. It fucking hurts, honestly, but you can’t get enough of it. 

Grabbing the base of his cock with his free hand, Joel begins to move his dick back and forth, brushing over your clit with just the right amount of pressure. You’re shocked by how quickly you feel yourself approaching your climax just from his cock rubbing against your clit. Burying your face in Joel’s neck, you moan against him as your legs begin to tremble. 

Joel yanks you from the comfort of his neck so you have to look at him. His lips are parted and he’s panting, clearly struggling to hold it together as much as you are. Those dark eyes that you can’t get enough are glued to yours. There’s something about the moment that feels anticipatory, so you wait without knowing what you’re even waiting for. 

“You’re gonna come for me,” he instructs, “and you’re gonna keep those pretty eyes open.”

Pressure builds in your lower tummy as Joel speaks. Sometimes you’re convinced that his words alone could unravel you. 

“Repeat it,” he commands, voice gravelly with lust. 

“I’m g-gonna cum fo—fuck—for y-you and…and—”

Joel’s laugh interrupts you. “All fucked dumb and I ain’t even inside of you. Can’t talk, huh, baby? I-I’m g-gonna—”

You cut Joel off with your cry of ecstasy as you come. So blissed out, you don’t chastise yourself for being turned on by his mocking. Your release drips down to your ass while you ride out your orgasm. Joel continues to flick his cock against your clit while his other hand clutches your cheeks, shaking your face. You must’ve unintentionally closed your eyes. 

“Hey, are you deaf? I told ya to fuckin’ look at me,” he growls. “Be a good girl, sugar.”

Nothing is more important to you right now than obeying Joel, so you force your eyes open and mumble some form of an apology. You’ve come down from your high, but your legs still tremble. Mind clearer now, you’re able to take in the sight in front of you. Sweat has gathered on his wrinkled forehead and his curls are sticking to it, his brows are pulled tight, and his mouth is agape as he pants. He’s looking at you like you’re the reason the sun came up this morning, like he’s never looked at you before. 

In contrast to the look in his eyes, his words are filthy. “You never let him come in you, right?” 

You shake your head. 

“Good. Don’t wanna stick my cock in a dirty cunt,” he grumbles. Joel slides his cock down your slit before putting just the tip in your entrance. 

“Thought you weren’t gonna fuck me?” you lilt. 

“‘M not,” he groans, rocking his hips gently. 

The slight intrusion makes you hungry. You want more, you want all of him inside you. Trying to be stealthy, you slowly push against him, but a heavy hand on your hip stops you. Joel shoots you a warning look. Honestly, you’re impressed by his self control. He pulls out, then he puts just the tip back in, repeating the motion until he’s groaning in earnest. You whimper, cunt sensitive from your orgasm, and you’re secretly hoping he’ll give in and fuck you. Joel leaves your pussy and slides his cock back up to your clit. With a strangled moan, he comes and his hot, sticky spend shoots through your already ruined panties. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper, barely audible. 

Joel leans forward, keeping his cock sheathed in your underwear, and he presses his forehead to yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hold him close. The two of you breathe against each other’s open mouths. You can almost fucking taste the coffee on his breath. Joel tips his face forward and his lips ghost over yours. Your entire body lights up. Thousands of neurons are firing. The muscle nestled in your chest pulses so quickly that you’re afraid it’ll give out. For a moment, you think you imagined it. The touch was featherlight, but there. 

Joel then plants a solid kiss on your forehead and pulls back, taking his cock out from under your panties. Both of you glance down at the mess between your legs. It’s jarring how drenched they are and the gaping hole reveals your leaking entrance. 

“God,” you pant, “you are such a dirty fuck.” 

Narrowing his eyes, he steps back and tucks his cock into his boxers. “Says the girl who just let me ruin her panties,” he retorts. 

You roll your eyes and hop off the table that’s well over twenty years old. It creaks in relief; you’re not sure how it didn’t break under your weight and the rocking. There’s a residue of your arousal where you were sitting and you stifle a laugh. 

“I’ll clean that later,” you say to Joel. He only raises an eyebrow in response. “What? Who gives a shit? I live alone.” 

You turn and start to walk out of the kitchen. The only thing on your mind is taking your panties off. They’re clinging to you in the worst way and you desperately need to shower. 

“I do, too,” Joel says. You stop dead in your tracks, just barely past the archway. 

“What?” you ask, turning around to face him. 

Joel clears his throat. “I live alone now.”

Slowly, you nod. Joel doesn’t live with Tess anymore. You turn the thought over in your head. Was the choice made for your sake? Did Tess kick him out? You don’t bother asking. You just nod again. 

“Okay. Congrats…?” You let out a shaky breath. Why would you say that? Cursing yourself in your head, you just nod again. “I’m going to shower.” 

Joel nods and you practically run to your bathroom. The next ten minutes is a blur. You shower, you sing songs in your head to distract yourself, you brush the bitter taste of coffee out of your mouth. After you dry off and dress yourself, you walk into your living area, fully expecting Joel to be gone. He’s sitting on your couch, squinting at your copy of The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien. You wish you could take a photo and immortalize this moment. 

“You’re still here,” you say, but it comes out more as a question. 

“That okay?” he asks. 

“No,” you reply. “Well, yes. Sorry. I just…I have to go to my neighbor’s.”

“Susan?” 

“Yeah.” You’re surprised Joel remembers her name. At most, you’ve mentioned her twice. “She needs more support lately.”

Joel nods understandingly and hoists himself off the couch with a grunt. His knees crack and for a moment, you think you see him wince in pain. Sometimes you forget how old he is especially because he fucks you like he’s not a day over thirty, but his creaky joints, graying hair, and the age spots that are beginning to appear on his temples are there to remind you. 

Heading towards the door, you grab your keys and step out of your apartment with Joel trailing behind you. Wordlessly, the two of you walk maybe twenty feet to Susan’s door. You give Joel a stiff, tight lipped smile. What is there to say? The last twenty four hours have felt like emotional whiplash. Although the last few months without him have been painful, at least you had clarity. Now, you’re back in limbo. Maybe you’re not, though. It’s possible that nothing has changed. You could go back to fucking Miles (assuming he ever wants to see you again) and avoiding each other. You could also ask for clarity, sure, but that would be too easy, right? You’re you and Joel’s Joel. Silence is the only language you’re both fluent in.

Joel’s hand meets the back of your head and he pulls you to him, pressing his lips to your forehead. Before you get the chance to register what just happened or think of anything to say, he walks by you to leave. Your breath catches in your throat as your stomach flutters at the phantom feeling of his plush lips on your skin. With shaky hands, you find the key to Susan’s apartment and open the door, stepping inside.

The moment you open the door, the air feels stiff. You freeze. A knowing feeling settles into your stomach. Something is wrong.

“Suze?” you call out.

Nothing. 

Your legs feel like lead and you know you should move, but you can’t. With the door still wide open, you stand in place and crane your neck to peer around the corner into the kitchen. 

The sound that tears its way out of your throat sounds unhuman, more like a wounded animal than anything. Your hand flies to your mouth, muffling any sounds that try to escape past your lips. Now, your legs move without your brain telling them to. Carrying you into the kitchen, they collapse and your knees hit the floor with a thud. You don’t register the impact. 

Susan’s cheeks are cold against your palms as you tap her lightly. You know she’s dead, of course. Still, there’s a child inside of you that thinks you can just wake her up. It’s the same child that still thinks there’s a possibility that her father didn’t drown. No, he just swam away. You brush the silver strands out of her face to get a good look at her. It has to feel real. Registering the blankness in her eyes, tears spill over, dripping onto her paling face. 

You pull your hands away as if her skin suddenly burnt you. Scrambling backwards, your back slams against the fridge. A thunderous wail fills the room and you don’t even register that it’s coming out of you until you feel your body jerk from your cries. Pulling your knees to your chest, your head drops to rest on them. Another strangled cry rips from you as you soak your jeans with your tears. 

“Hey, hey,” a voice tries to break through to you, but you can’t hear anything except the blood rushing in your ears. “C’mere, c’mere.”

Arms wrap around you and it’s only then, with your face pressed to flannel, do you realize that Joel’s holding you to his chest. His hand is on your face to essentially shield your eyes. Not like it would matter—they’re screwed shut, only opening enough for tears to escape. 

“S’okay, baby. I got you,” Joel mumbles against your hair. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

Tag list: @cuntyhunty22 @joelsicle @emmasveinyahhdih @yslgreen @glitterspark @ghostwritesthings @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg @sohaaa6 @millercontracting @ashhlsstuff @smvtwitchmiller

Omitted tag: death of parental figure

[cuntyhunty22]

If yall have any requests.. or wanna tap to get my brain working... my asks are open 😘😘

[cuntyhunty22]

Guilty as sin ✨ (chapter 4)

Summery : see chapters 1-3 for full rundown. Relationships clash. Things get exposed. Things progress. Reader is a mess per usual (we love it here)

Pairing : dbf!joel x reader x Tommy

Tags : rough sex, fingering , p in v , f!oral, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink (listen it happens) , choking, age gap ( mid 20s , late 40s ) cream pie, (if I missed anything let me know )

Music recs : guilty as sin : Taylor swift : always on my mind : Willie Nelson :

•

When you wake the next morning you feel like you dreamt the whole thing. The cuddling on the couch, sleeping in his bed.. hell you still might be dreaming. It's still very early, you are caged by this big arms, his chest on your back, you can feel his breath in your ear. You feel him wiggle a little pulling you closer.

"Mornin." Joel's voice gravely full of sleep. His hand that was resting on your stomach slides underneath the tee shirt you have on up your stomach finding its way to cup one of your breasts as he grinds into you.

"Mornin...so I wasn't dreaming." You push your ass back on to him, his cock hard touching your back.

"Hmm too good to be a dream." Joel says before he kisses down your neck as he rolls your nipple between his finger tips. You let out a breathy moan immediately taken over by his presence on your body.

Joel" you moan out his name as he continues kissing your neck, his hard cock against you, showing you what you do to him. What you make him feel.

"You know how long it's been since a woman has been in my bed.. mhm."

He cups your breast a bit harder this time pulling your body even closer .

"How long.." you ask.

"I couldn't even tell you.. I don't bring woman here.. I don't let them sleep in m'bed, s'personal to me.. intimate."

Joel's hand trails down your body until he reaches your panties, gently he crosses your thighs going between where a pool of wetness has already accumulated.

"This pussy stays wet for me doesn't she.."

Joel growls in your ear as he pushes your panties to the side as he slides his fingers gently through your slick.

"Yes..." you whimper as Joel circles your clit. This was completely different from last night.

"Feel good?" Joel rests his chin on your shoulder.

"So good.." little whines leave your lips trying to make yourself form a sentence. "Why'd you let me sleep here.. your bed.. I could have just slept on the couch.."

"Because.. I wanted you to. Wanted to hold you. Wanted you wake up next to you." His breath heavy in your ear. You feel his heart beat.

Joel dips two fingers inside, you let out a loud moan "Wanted this to be one of the first thing I hear when I wake up.." Joel coos as He pumps them steady, taking his time.

He holds you to him his fingers gliding in and out, each time you feel his cock throb against you. You wanted to touch him wanted to make him feel good too. You push back giving some pressure for him. He growls when your ass grinds on him.

You couldn't take it anymore, you reach behind you, Joel's warm body caging you to him. You were able to wiggle your hand to reach his boxers when he grabs your wrist with his free hand that wasn't buried in your pussy.

"Patience darlin. Let me focus on you."

Joel then hooks his fingers, reaching that spot making you clinch around him.

"But I-" your sentence cuts off by a whimper leaving your lips, his pace has increased now. Each pump he hooks, each pump you feel his lips on your skin. He's solely focused on pleasing you.

"You what baby.. t'me it feels like you wanna cum.. hmm? You wanna do that f'me?"

"Yeah.." you wrap your hand around Joel's arm needing something to grip on as you were reaching the point of unraveling.

"That's it.. Christ- you look so pretty.. my pretty girl.." Joel kisses your jaw, as you throw your head back your orgasm reaching its peak taking over your whole body. Once you come down he holds you there, tight grip around your body, kisses all over .

You flip yourself around to be face to face with him. The sun hitting him in all the right ways. He looks beautiful, in a way this softens him. You reach your hand up to his face, like clockwork he melts into your touch. You scoot closer to him, inching forward to press your lips to his. It was like a gateway drug, his lips to yours. He was letting you control this, how your lips melted with his, how you pulled him in deeper each time, how you gently slid your tongue into his mouth, you were in control until the switch flipped. Joel's teeth graze your bottom lip, his hand grips under your jaw exposing your neck and thats where his lips traveled next. Those sweet kisses were replaced with hungry love bites. You claw down his chest. Until your hand reach the top of his boxers then you cup his very noticeable print.

Joel groans as you stroke him through his boxers.

"So hard for me.." your voice sultry and sweet giving him a taste of his own medicine. You pull his boxers down as his cock springs out, he's so hard his veins are very noticeable and there is a tiny little peral of pre cum at his tip. You wrap your hand around Joel, looking him in the eye as you stroke him, his eyes fluttered, moans leaving his lips.

"I want you." You say against his lips before kissing him. He let you invade him in every way, your tongue in his mouth, your hand stroking his cock as his body shakes. It was a back and forth game of who's in control, but really it was just you both wanting to make the other feel good.

"Fuck- I need you. on your back."

Joel demands as he looks at you with his darkened eyes.

You pull away lying on your back like he told you to do, then he was there. Between your legs, his body hovering above you his hand above your head holding him there as he slides himself in, your body arching at the pressure. Once he fully sank in it was like he couldn't get enough. His pace deliberate, his hands everywhere.

"Baby..." Joel groans out.

"Yeah?" You answer him breathlessly.

"Mine." Is all he could say. Over and over again.

"I'm yours. All yours." You answer as you sink your nails into his back. "Mark what's yours.. fill me."

You knew he was close, he was close before it even started. He pumped a few more deep thrusts and then he spilled inside you. Once Joel came he collapsed on to you. Laying there as you both catch your breath.

"I missed morning sex." His voice still gravely.

You laugh. "Yeah morning sex is pretty nice."

You run your fingers through his messy curls. Specifically playing with the ones that are a tad bit more grey than the rest.

"So not to kill the mood.. I have to go get my stuff from Tommy's today.."

Joel lets out an agitated sigh like he forgot that even existed. "Yeah. I know. Want me to go with you.?"

"I think I need to do it alone. Especially if he will be home. I mean that wouldn't matter your his brother.." you stop for a moment realizing that's out in open you said that so casually. "Jesus." You mutter.

It's kinda fucked talking about this when Joel is still inside of you. His cum seeping out.

Joel noticed the switch in your body language.

"S'fine. Do want you need darlin."

"Can we just stay like this all day.." you sigh as you trace the claw marks you made down Joel's back.

"We could.. but Sarah's coming home... you gotta go get your stuff.. plus work needs to be done at the cafè if we wanna open on time.."

"We..." you trail off.

"Yeah we." He reiterates.

"So we are really doing this.. you.. me.. in our little fucked up situation."

"Yeah we are. Especially if mornings will be like this."

You roll your eyes. "So you want me just for morning sex.." you mock him.

"Yeah I mean it helps. And you're beautiful. And kind. And you consume every fucking thought in my brain. I mean you got me workin for free darlin and we know I don't do that."

"Jesus you can be a dick." You scoff playfully.

"I know.." he smirks at you.

Joel moves off of you finally pulling out, the rest of his cum slowly spilling out of you. He gets up looking for clothes when he looks back to you, and the mess between your legs.

"Whatcha starin at." You smugly ask already knowing the answer.

He comes over to the side of the bed his fingers trail up your thigh, until he finds your heat. Joel's fingers glide through the mess that is his left over cum before he pushes it back inside your cunt , the feeling of his fingers making you gasp.

"Mine. It stays there."

You arch forward on to his fingers. Pathetically if he continued you'd come again in seconds.

"Oh?" Joel's brow arch.

"You wanna fuck yourself on my cum covered fingers"

You squeak when Joel's other hand finds your throat.

"Answer me." He pulls his fingers slightly out your body jerking toward to find them again. "Not unless you answer me" he applies a little pressure on your throat making you moan loudly.

"Yes." You choke out barely from the pressure on your throat.

"Yes what." Joel asks as he takes in the site of you.

"I want to fuck myself on your fingers.." you pathetically whine out

"Say please..." he taunts smirking his eyes dark with lust.

"Please Joel. Let me."

"Good girl... go on then."

You push yourself slightly forward, sinking yourself into Joel's fingers, he helps guide you and set a pace. With each jerk you feel his thumb slight graze your clit, you rock faster begging your body to just cum, you needed something more. You needed him to ruin you and you knew exactly how to make that happen...

"Daddy.." you whine.

Joel's head snaps up looking at you squirming. He grabs both of your legs moving you to the edge of the bed legs dangling off. He pushes them up holding your thighs to your chest before he slams inside you.

"Greedy little cunt. S'not done till I destroyed her."

His thrusts were maniacal like a man possessed. There was something about getting Joel to this point that really got you.

"Happy now? Ya see what ya do t'me. How I want to destroy this pussy.." Joel groans as he slams in harder bottoming out he stays there not moving. "my pussy.. so I'm all you think of.. how I feel inside you, how I stretch you.. how no one else will fuck you like I do."

"Joel.. Joel I - fuck."

"I fucking know. I feel it... but do you feel me..."

Joel hasn't moved, he's stay there deep, his tip grazing your cervix, your pussy clinching around him begging him to move but he won't. He wants to feel it all. He wants to drag this out.

"Answer me baby.. tell me.." that drawl dark and silky.

"Yeah.. yeah I do.. you are all I feel.."

Joel slides about halfway out before slamming back in.

"Good... now fucking cum for me." He demanded.

Joel went back to completely raviging you, within seconds he had you right where he wanted, seeing stars body convulsing and your core screaming. The room filled with your screams of pleasure and Joel's animalistic groans.

Joel pulls out staring at you all fucked out and limp. He strokes his cock watching you watch him. You managed to sit up laying back on your arms.

"You close baby?" You rasp as he stands in front of you, his big calloused hands wrapped around his cock that coated in your juices.

Joel just grunts.

"Mhm you look so good like that." You palm your breast leaning back more opening your legs. "You like this.. stroking you cock while you watch me touch myself, knowing you just fucked my Brains all the way out.."

"Fuck" Joel strokes harder, his jaw clenches as cum spills from his tip on to his hand. "Come clean it up." He looks at you as you move down on to your knees taking him in your mouth licking all of his cum up.

"Open." He demands and you do.

"Now swallow."

You look up at him like he's hung the moon.

"That's my girl... you hungry..?"

You smile as he helps you up.

"Starving."

•

The Morning was just Joel and you. He made breakfast, lounging around as you drank coffee just talking.. normal couples things.

"So I think I'm gonna get ready to head over to grab my things.. I'll meet you at the cafe after." You throw your legs over Joel's who is sitting next to you on the couch.

"S'fine, Sarah is staying here tonight.. so uh.." Joel just stares off trying to figure out what exactly to say.

"I'll go stay at dads.. it's okay Joel..you don't have to do that."

You get up off the couch walking to change, he follows you.

"Are you following me like a puppy?" You look at him as he leans against the doorway.

"Just nervous s'all."

Your eyes widen and you smirk. "Joel miller is nervous. Wow."

"I'm bein serious smartass." He rolls his eyes at you.

You pull on your jeans, sliding in your flip flops before walking to him, hand on his face.

"Why are you nervous."

"Because.. you.. this.. what happens when you go to Tommy's.. I don't wanna hurt anyone.. but you.. you make me selfish."

Joel kisses the palm of your hand as you let it slide off his face.

"It will be okay.. we will be okay... I'll text you alright.."

you kiss him, it was short but you could feel the desperation in his lips.

"Alright."

•

You would be lying if you weren't nervous too.. everything in the matter of 24 hours has changed. The drive there was short, even with the destruction from the tornado which makes you wonder how Tommy's apartment was.

Once you arrive there you see that there is minimal damage to the building but trees were lying around everywhere. You walk up to his door.. you didn't know if you should knock or just walk in considering you do have a key. You stood there for a moment pondering when the door opened.

"Hi." His voice soft. His freckles noticeable in the sunlight, and he's wearing that damn white tank top.

"Hi." You reply before walking in.

"I got in early.. I wasn't for sure when you were coming and then when I got back your things were still here."

Tommy goes to lean on the counter.

"Yeah I was busy this morning.." you figet feeling the awkwardness between the two of you which is something that's never ever been there before and quite frankly you hated it. You look down trying to figure out what to do. What to say.

"How's the cafè goin? Everything still okay?" He asks trying to fill the void.

"It's going.. some things need fixed.. tornado knocked out the sign and a window.. but uh Joel is going to fix it today.."

"Yeah well that s'good. I'm glad you had Joel with you."

That statement made you want to vomit.

"Yeah suppose that was a good thing... uh so anyways I'll grab my things and go.."

You walk back to the bedroom, picking up your duffle bag grabbing your clothes and whatever little things you accumulated by living here for a while. You didn't realize it but you were crying. Little sobs filled the room, you didn't know until you felt him hug you from behind.

"Tommy.. just don't okay. It's fine." Your voice soft.

"I'm sorry.. babydoll.. I'm just. I'm fucked up. I'm confused.."

You turn to look at him, his brown eyes.

You push a curl over that's was hanging down.

"Tommy miller one day you will make someone insanely happy.. like you did for me even if it was a short period.. you healed me in some ways.. it's okay.. this is okay.. you will be okay.. I will be okay."

He pulls you in for a hug and he just holds you.

"I do love you.." he sighs.

"I love you too.. always will.. but sometimes that's not enough. Other things happen. Other people... I'm gonna go now okay.. I'll see you.."

And you leave.

•

Once you got back to your car you call him.. you needed to hear his voice.

Calling : Joel miller

J - "hey baby.."

y - sobs

J- "what happened.. do I need to punch him."

Y- "no no no.. I'm just overwhelmed . I just feel awful. I loved him Joel. I'm not gonna lie and say I didnt.. not in the way I should no.. but in a way I needed at that time .. and it's fucked I'm telling you this.. but you are the only person in my life right now who I trust , who I can talk to .. who I can rely on no questions..."

J- "I'm glad I can be that for you.. I'm at the cafè.. come here I'll make you feel better.. we will knock some of this out.

Y- "okay I'll be there in 5."

Call ends

•

Once you get to the café you practically sprint inside. He's there, sweaty, tight teeshirt, work boots. You run over into his arms forgetting that people can see straight into the building. You pull back then you drag him back to the kitchen kissing him.

"Easy baby.... people.. Sarah is coming.."

You pull back not knowing why this pissed you off.

"Fuck you joel." You storm out of the kitchen into the main area, you grab a sledgehammer and you smash the rest of the window that was broke.

"Jesus. What the fuck are you doin."

"It's broke anyway. Broke like me." You hit it again before you walk back in throwing the sledgehammer on to the ground. You pass Joel shoulder checking him as you walk back into the kitchen.

"What the hell was that. What's wrong with you!? Why are ya throwin a temper tantrum." He yells.

"Wrong with me!? What's wrong with us. I just got back from Tommy's.. where he said he loved me Joel.. he looked confused and hurt.. and I know I fucking know if he finds the truth out it will kill him.. and you.. you wouldn't even let me kiss you.. too worried about someone walking in. Yeah me too but we were back here we would have heard. You fucking iced me out."

"I didn't mean too, I was just trying to be careful.. you've already had a bad day I didn't think you needed anything else."

"I needed you. I needed you in a way that I can't have right now... I'm just gonna go.. if you don't wanna work on this don't.."

You walk past him when he grabs your hand pulling you back into a kiss, his hands grip both sides of your face.

"M'sorry.. okay.. we knew this would be work.."

"I'm sorry too."

You burry your head into his chest as he holds you there.

"Ya know it shows what kind of person you are.. still caring for Tommy.. and for me.. in your own way for each of us...

"You miller boys make it easy to love you."

You gasp and what just left your mouth... but it's true.

You heard the door open you both let go walking out to see who it was .

"Hey dad, hey girl " Sarah says.

"Hey baby girl, how was your drive.. yall get hit with the tornado as bad as we did?"

"Parts but nothing devastating, what happened to the window."

She looks at the shards on the ground.

"I just finished what the tornado started."

You shrug.

"Where's uncle Tommy I figured he would be here since he just got back.?"

You look down not knowing what you should say.

"He's probably just tired , I'm sure we will see him later." Joel chimes in.

"Yeah probably.. I just -" Sarah looks at Joel who gives her the dad look for drop it.

"Oh okay so I'm gonna go home.. work on flyers and social media.. figured I'd cook for everyone get it started while you guys work.. invite your dad."

Sarah looks to you for confirmation.

"Yeah that sounds great. We won't be too much longer here, window company will be here within the hour. Sign will go back up tomorrow.. then it's just the fun things."

"Perfect see you both later."

Sarah says as she leaves.

•

You and Joel wait it out for the window to be replaced. He knocks some things down, building some booths, bigger countertops and you wanted a small bar. You help him when needed as you've started the painting and buying the pretty things as Joel would say.

"So I'm gonna go home.. talk to dad.. change my clothes .. I'll see you later."

You go to hop off the counter you were sitting on, when he comes between your legs arms on each side caging you there. His eyes drag down every inch of you before laying a passionate kiss to your mouth.

"Stay for a minute.. I don't know when tonight I'll get to do this.." his hands go to the button of your jeans unsnapping it his hands slide in trailing the thin material of your soaked panties.

"Joel." You choke out before he slides one finger in while he tries to rub your clit but your jeans are too tight.

"Just somethin for you to think about."

He smirks as he moves his hand, taking his finger in his mouth sucking off your arousal.

He moves letting you finally down. Walking you to the door.

"You'll lock up?" You ask

"Yeah I'm pretty close with the owner.." he smiles.

"Lucky her." You smile back.

"See you later." Joel lightly smacks your ass when you walk out the door.

•

When you get to your dad's, he's in the kitchen sitting at the table beer in hand.

"Hey kiddo... haven't seen you in a few days.. you okay."

You walk over giving him a hug pulling up the chair next to him.

"Hi dad. Um no.. not really.. Tommy and I broke up...the tornado fucked up some of the cafè. Just a lot."

"Woah wait. You guys broke up? Why? I kinda figured he'd be the one. You two were perfect together. Cafè will be fine Joel will fix it. He's good at what he does."

You stifle a laugh about what else Joel is good at.

"Um well.. when he was in California.. he rekindled with Maria... said he was confused didn't think it was fair to me.. which in a way was the right thing.. shows the man he is.. I'm not mad.. hurt a little but I get it."

Your dad turns to look at you. "He is a good man.. he will figure things out maybe you both needed time.."

"Yeah I guess.."

"What about Joel.?"

You cough "what? What do you mean?"

"Oh I just meant he was supposed to go on a date this week.. nice woman who does the bills for the company.. Kelli .. didn't know if he said anything about it."

You scoff"nope not a word.. so who is this woman.?"

"She's really nice, makes cookies."

"Sounds boring. Anyways okay dad good talk.. I'll be back living here for a while hope that's okay."

You get up from the table, grabbing your phone.

-calling Joel miller -

Rings rings - voicemail.

"You motherfucker."

•

It was time to head to Joel's. You and your dad agreed to drive together. He brought a case of beer and you made cookies.. (petty Betty over here. ) peanut butter chocolate chip.. Joel's favorite. You also made mocha brownies.(coffee Joel loves coffee)

You put on a cute little sun dress, cream colored with orange flowers.

"Well you look beautiful.. what's the occasion."

"Oh I just felt like looking nice." You smile at your dad.

•

Once you arrived to Joel's you grab the cookies and brownies walking to the door. He stands there opening it. He switched his worn blue teeshirt for a navy one, his jeans still worn but not like his work jeans. His curls tousled in the best way.

"Hey Joel thanks for inviting us for dinner." Your dad walks in. "Brought beer."

You wait for your dad to enter walking into the kitchen. You walk in feeling his eyes linger.

"Is there something you want to tell me.?" You ask leaning against the wall.

"Yeah. There is." His eyes fixated on you.

"Go on." You cockily reply.

He looks around quickly before kissing you, gently sucking your bottom lip.

"God you look pretty.. what did you make?"

Joel looks at you a smile across his face.

You groan. "Whatever Joel." You walk past him heading into the kitchen.

"What the fuck." He muttered as you left him.

•

Sarah has everything set up, you set the deserts on the counter. She looks over at you?

"You okay?"

"No..."

"Oh boy. Wouldn't have anything to do with Maria?"

"Tiny bit. How'd you know.?" You look at Sarah confused.

"When Tommy was gone she texted me, then she posted a pic on instagram and he was in it."

"What did she say?"

"More or less they rekindled I didn't know what to think because that's how she is ya know.. she pulls him in and then leaves."

"Oh. Well we broke up. He called me while he was gone. Got my stuff this morning."

"Just give it time.. you guys are good together."

"That's what everyone keeps sayin.."

You shrug as you go to sit at the table. You sit at the far end, Joel decides to sit across from you. The entire time you just glare at him.

Dinner went well, it was good to just sit and talk.. be normal. (Except the times you caught Joel staring at your chest or how his gaze would linger on your lips when you would speak. You bring the desert to the table handing it out to everyone.

"These look so good." Sarah says.. "peanut butter chocolate chip... dad that's your favorite."

"They are." Joel says as he takes one off of the plate taking a bite. "Incredible"

You smile "thanks I'm good at what I do."

He shakes his head looking down at the table

"So Joel. How was your date?" Your dad asks.

"You went on a date!?" Sarah questioned.

Joel stares at you, you were feeling bold and annoyed with him. You run your foot up the inside of his leg until you reach his bulge which was hard.. you let out a small chuckle, when Joel curses under his breath.

"Earth to dad.. date.. when.. who??"

Sarah asks again.

"Oh I didn't. So was supposed to but uh-"

You press your foot a bit harder moving it up and down.

"I didn't because-"

"Well if you didn't whose bright red lace panties are in the bathroom?"

Your dad asks as he looks at Joel whose face has gone pale. You stop moving, your body freezes. You look at him wide eyed. Sarah looking back and forth.

"I just meant I didn't go on a date.." he coughs.

"So who is the mystery woman?" Sarah says.

"Just some woman I met at the bar the other night.. don't wanna talk about it."

Joel gets up your leg falling to the ground. You follow suit. You walk outside you needed a cigarette. You walk to the edge of Joel's yard by the woods far enough away from everyone. You grab your phone and text him.

You : we need to talk. Give me a ride home.?

You see him sitting on the deck with your dad now beers in hand.

Joel miller : yeah can do.

You walk back up, passing your dad and Joel before going back into the kitchen looking for the tequila you left here, when you shut the cabinet Sarah is standing there watching you.

"What the hell are you doing.?" Her

tone stern eyebrows furrowed like her dad.

You look at her confused.

"Finding tequila. Silly. You want a shot."

"Not what I meant.. did Tommy really break up with you or did you use that an excuse to sleep with my dad again.?"

You look at her stunned. You never told her you slept with him. You mentioned the flirting the feelings but never that.

"Sarah.. I- it's.." you stutter in your words trying to find a way to explain this mess.

"It's fucked up is what it is.. you can't drag both of them through whatever mental crisis you are going through.. my dad bringing a girl home from the bar? That's not him. Maybe when he was younger.. I thought maybe.. maybe he did.. I know he gets lonely.. and then I went and looked in the bathroom myself.. those are yours.. we bought them a few weeks ago at that fancy lingerie shop in the mall.."

Sarah crosses her arms staring at you waiting for whatever response you were going to give her.

You stare back at her. Tears building.

"They are mine... Tommy and I are broken up.. that's not a lie.. it happened after we broke up.. it's.. well complicated. We are gonna tell people.. just didn't know when or how.. you think I like this? Like lying to you? What Tommy is gonna think? My dad?"

"Honestly I don't care. You dug your grave already. You lost Tommy. And now you lost me." Sarah shakes her head as she turns to leave.

"Sarah please." You beg her to stop and just listen but she doesn't she walks outside to the deck.

You stand there trying to figure out what you should do. She doesn't want you here. Sarah is Joel's number one priority and you respect that.. so you leave.

•

You walk a few blocks before you give in trying to find an uber or something. Once you got one you took it to the cafè.

You open the door, flipping the lights on. You look around realizing it's really coming together. He made alot of progress today.. the booths are done.. the counter just needs stained. Boxes are here from things you ordered, he's put them all organized in a corner. He's done so much for you. For this place. You went downstairs grabbing the blanket that you sat on during the tornado, along with a bottle of tequila. You decided you were probably just gonna crash here not knowing what would happen at Joel's now that you left. You didn't think Sarah would say anything but how do you know for sure.

You spread the blanket out on the ground laying there replaying everything that's happened in your life in less than a year. You needed something to fill the silence, Tommy bought you a record player awhile back he thought it would give a cool vibe to your little space.. he was right.

You shuffle through the records you've picked up here going thrifting and there and you decided on an old Willie Nelson one that had "always on my mind" on it. One of your favorite songs. You stare at the ceiling feeling everything you needed too.. until there was a bang on the door. You sit up looking out the windows and there he stood.

You stand up unlocking the door letting him in as you do you pull down the blinds before you had to have the talk with him you needed to touch him. To feel him. You pull him in your hands grip his shirt, his lips find yours, you stumble back finding the blanket on the ground he lands on top of you his hand moves up your thigh, then you stop him.

"What are you doing here? "I've made life complicated enough for you today.. just go home.. be with Sarah.."

He moves himself to sit next to you grabbing the bottle and taking a sip.

"This shits vial I don't get why ya love it."

You chuckle leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Why'd ya leave?" He looks over, sees your bloodshot eyes.

"Because Sarah cut me off.. and I already put a wedge between you and your brother.. I can't and won't do that with her. And if that means we quit this.. then we have too Joel.."

He takes a deep breath. " she will come around.. it may take time.. but she will.. she was kinda icing me out after your dad left..which you need to call him.. so I kinda put things together. She barely spoke and then just went to her room."

You put your face into your hands. "Jesus Christ Joel go home. Go talk to her. Leave me here."

"Stop. Give me a second."

Joel picks up his phone calling Sarah. She declines it. He calls again.. she answers.

Joel's pov

J - hey sweetheart... I uh... I think we need to talk..

s - I don't want too. And I don't want to talk to you.. or to her. are you with her?

I can't lie to her anymore..

j- yeah I am.. we are at the cafè.. I came to check on her.. we were gonna tell you.. tell Tommy.. tell her dad.. it's just..

S-complicated.. fucked up..

j- yeah. Exactly.

S- so what. You're a happy couple now.. fuck everyone else's feelings.

J- no actually she told me to leave.. that we should be done.. because she cares.. about you.. about Tommy. She would rather forget what she feels towards me than to hurt anyone else anymore.

S- good she should. And so should you...

J- maybe.. but what if for once in my life she makes me want to be selfish.. something I've never been..

Sarah sighs on the other side of the phone.

S- can I come there? Maybe we should all talk..

j - yeah you can.. or we will come home.

S- I'll come there. See you in a minute.

Call ends.

•

You look over at Joel, analyzing his body language.

"So uh Sarah is coming..." he pinches his nose.

"Okay.. so we talk to her. Answer what she wants to know.. god this is really happening.."

Joel's phone chimes again.. he looks down and he looks concerned.

"What now?" You ask

"Jesus Christ you might not like this , Tommy texted me.. he's going to California..."

"Oh great. This is all I am going to say in that. I want him happy. He deserves it. I just want him to be careful. "

"Yeah. Me too."

Sarah knocks on the door she's holding the rest of the brownies and cookies.

"This is really coming together." She looks around taking everything in. "Booths are a good addition."

"Joel put those in.. everything by hand." You look at him and smile.

"You guys have done good work.." she smiles "I brought these figured something to take off the edge..."

You all laugh.. as you hand her the bottle. "How's this for taking off the edge."

"Hey now she ain't drinking she's not even.." Joel looks at you

"Dad I'm 21.." Sarah rolls her eyes at Joel.

"Okay but she was always the bad influence." He smirks

You hit his arm. "Jesus you won't let me live that down.. I just moved here Joel.. Sarah was my first friend.. I was 18 and wild. my fault I took her to a party.. guess I always have been the bad influence."

"Sooo.." Sarah sits down in front of you and Joel. "Let's talk."

You sit there and explain everything. From the wedding.. the dress you left.. Joel rescuing you.. that you didn't actually get stuck in the rain that night.. that you snuck away because you wanted to be with eachother .. to Tommy how that was true and how at the time it was what you needed.. how Tommy helped you heal from your mom.. how you will always care and love him just not in love with him.. then you explained the best you could what you felt for Joel.. how you feel safe.. how you can tell him anything and everything.. how you didn't mean to feel this way but you do.. how in all honesty it was Joel first but he let you go.. and if you found your way back then it was meant to be.. you both told her everything.

"So there's that.." you say.

"Also Tommy is going to California..."

Joel adds.

"He's what.?" Sarah looks at both of you.

"Yep" you and Joel say in unison.

"So are we just gonna let him.?" She asks.

"Have too kiddo.. you know him.. he will figure it out hell maybe she's different."

"We can only hope... anyways I'll let you two enjoy your evening.." Sarah stand up as she heads for the door.

"Hey Sarah.. thank you.. for listening.. you're the only one that knows.. and for now until we find that right time I hope that's okay.."

"I'm happy to be here for both of you.. still weird not gonna lie.. but I think.. it's a good weird, now that I properly understand everything... come home you don't have to sleep here.."

"Fine. See you soon." You smile.

•

You sit there is silence taking everything in, Joel's hands rub your thigh as you lean on him. Enjoying the peace, realizing one weight is now off your chest.

He turns to look at you, a look you by now know exactly what he's thinking.

He continues running his hand up and down your leg moving to your inner thigh slowly moving up under your dress.

"C'mere.." his raspy low drawl sending shivers down your spine.

You throw your leg across Joel's his sitting on his lap. His hands hold your waist moving back to grip your ass.

"D'ya know what you've done t'me today.. this little dress... making my favorite cookies..." his voice syrupy sweet.

You feel him push up, his hard bulge under you on the thin layer of your panties making you softly whimper.

"Then at dinner..." Joel sits up wrapping you tighter to him as he softly kisses down your jaw.

"You could have made me make a mess in my jeans.. how would that look huh?" Joel whispers in your ear

You shift your hips to grind against him, the slight friction already soaking your panties.

"But then it got me thinkin this filthy fantasy... pornographic really.." he lets of a soft chuckle.

You grind harder your core aching. You could honestly get off on him just talking.

"I kept envisioning crawlin under the table.. sayin I dropped somethin runnin my hands under that pretty dress, pulling those panties to the side.."

You push harder, your fingers tangle in Joel's hair slightly pulling as you moan you feel it building in your stomach.

"Then burying my face in that sweet cunt... and now it's all I have thought about."

In a swift motion Joel pulls himself off the floor you along with him, your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips colliding with yours, tongues dancing with one another as he walks you back to the kitchen he sets you down on to the steel counter. The cold touch of it on your bare thighs as Joel pushing your dress up to your hips as he gets down on his knees pulling you to the edge. His hands rough on your thighs moving to your soaked panties.

"Baby.. you are a mess..." Joel coos before swiping his tongue across the thin lace fabric. Your body jerking.

" you taste s'good." He hooks a finger into the fabric pulling it off.

He pushes your legs all the way open for him as he dives in hungry starved. The room was filled of the sounds of Joel leaping up your wetness, his hungry groans of pleasure and your sweet little moans. His tongue was hot and heavy every swipe he applied pressure until the grazed your clit he'd alternate sucking on that bud flicking his tongue all across her and sliding into your pulsating hole.

"Jesus fuck.. Joel.. Joel baby.." you scream. you couldn't feel your legs, your body felt like it was floating as your first climax came.

He paused for a moment just to look up at you, the dim lighting hitting his dark brown eyes. You could see wet spots on his facial hair from you. Suddenly he took the deepest breath and said these words.

"I think I'm in love with you."

You went to reply but your voice was cut short by the sound of a zipper and the quick response to him filling you, hard and deep.

"See how I just slide in baby, see how wet you are f'me, how she just sucks me in.."

You just nod, as he thrusts into you his finger tips digging into your hips.

"Eyes on me." Joel says as you your eyes flutter back from the ecstasy of him.

"Look at me baby, wanna see you.. wanna watch you."

His pace quickened, you could feel how badly he's wanted you all night, it was the same rough Joel but something about it felt lighter, like he was free of something. Free to love you.

"Yeah that's it baby.. look at you." Joel's hand moves to your face his thumb lingering by your lips. You lean your face more into his hand slipping his thumb into your mouth to gently sucking on it, your pupils wide as you stare at Joel.

"Jesus fuck."

Joel curses as you lean back arching into his deep thrust, you didn't know how it's even possible but each time he finds way to fill you deeper than before.

"God my pretty pretty girl." Joel says as he hits your favorite spot he always finds, little sweet moans leaving your body.

"Your girl. I'm your girl Joel."

You sweetly moan out.

"Fuck yes you are. Taking me so fucking well.. so good."

You kept yours eyes on him, it was like nothing else mattered but that moment. How he takes over your entire existence. How he feels. How he looks at you.

"You're fucking squeezing me baby girl, Jesus."

You stare back at him doe eyed as he ravishes you, he's so deep you feel him in your ribs.

"Need..." you can't even speak at this point.

"I know baby.. I know..."

he pulls you more towards the edge of the counter, pushing himself closer to you bodies practically one you wrap your legs around him tightly, your body shaking barley holding it together when you feel it, you feel him, warmth coating your insides he spills as you follow suit your core burning the room spinning, you clinch around him milking everything has.

"So you think... or you are?"

You look at him and smile.

He smiles back that cocky ass smirk.

"What do you think."

"Well I think I'm in love with you too."

He chuckles "you think.. or you are."

•

Two months later

Calling Joel miller

You : hey it's me... I seen Tommy he's drunk.. he knows... I need you to pick me up..

( PART 5 coming soon )

tags : @ohhoneypascal @mani-pedro @megangovier @littledes1re @shaunasrabbit @glitterspark @umadirectioner @darknight3904 @thoughtfullypinkgiver @zen3ca @drewsctover @lostboys1987girl @doblasftcisco @kaylakrol

[cuntyhunty22]

Part 4.... as always comments and love helps... 🖤🖤

[cuntyhunty22]

HUNTYS MATERIALIST🖤

Below is everything I have written.!

Good men die too, oh I'd rather be with you. (Ongoing)

Smut. Each part has tags

Joel x reader

Part 1

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 7 audio tracks

💬 12  🔁 25  ❤️ 126 · Good men die too, oh I'd rather be with you. · Paring: joel x reader Description: Joel is a regular at your bar, you r

Part 2

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 1 audio track

💬 5  🔁 12  ❤️ 38 · Good men die too, oh I'd rather be with you. · (Part 2) Pairing • Joel x reader Description : read part 1 for full rund

Part 3

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 3 audio tracks

💬 6  🔁 15  ❤️ 19 · Good men die too, oh I'd rather be with you. (Part 3) · Joel x reader Description: revert to parts one and two. Linked

Part 4

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 3 audio tracks

💬 1  🔁 7  ❤️ 28 · Good men die too, oh I'd rather be with you. · (Part 4) Description: reader had an event in the last part that unfolds in

Switching the positions for you. (On going)

Javi Peña x reader

(Smut. Language)

(Each part has tags and warnings)

Part 1

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 1 image

💬 5  🔁 20  ❤️ 72 · SWITCHING THE POSITIONS FOR YOU. · • Mature content 18 plus Javier Peña x reader Description: reader is a journalist..

Part 2

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 3 audio tracks

💬 5  🔁 12  ❤️ 16 · Switching the positions for you (part 2) · • • Description: You are one month into your stay in Colombia. Reader and J

She rides

Clint x reader

(Smutty as fuck )

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 1 audio track

💬 0  🔁 0  ❤️ 0 · •she rides• · Pairing : Clint x reader Description : reader goes out for a night out, ends up having the "ride" of her lif

•

Hope again

Jackson old man Joel x reader

(Smut fluff )

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 1 image

💬 4  🔁 7  ❤️ 26 · Hope again. (Part 2 ) · * fate * Pairing : Jackson!oldman!joel x reader Tags : smut, violence, language, age gap, establ

Post by @cuntyhunty22 · 6 audio tracks

💬 0  🔁 4  ❤️ 40 · Hope again. · Paring : Jackson!oldman!joel x reader Tags : fluff. Mention of death. Mention of K!ll!ng people. Smut. cum

[cuntyhunty22]

In the mean time .... here

[cuntyhunty22]

Hiiii it's meeeee. I still exist. 😂 soooo life's been a lot... and writers block has kicked my ass.. I feel stuck in my story and I'm hoping to get back to it soon. 🖤

[half-moon16]

Puff, Puff, Smash

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: When you're reunited with your old crush, Javier Peña at a get together at his dad's ranch, you proposition him with a theory he just has to test out for himself.

tags/warnings: E-rated: MDNI!!, cannabis use, alcohol use, language, unprotected p in v (oops), oral (m receiving), dirty talk, pet names (baby, hermosa, pretty girl), reader is in her mid-30's, Javi is in his early 40's. Sorry if I forgot anything!

word count: 5k

note: yes I was 🍃💨😶‍🌫️ when I thought of this--and what about it? 💅🏻 Not beta'd, thrown together in like 24 hours LOLLL

God, you fucking hate these things.

Or— maybe hate is too strong of a word.

You just— hit your limits on socialization a lot faster than everyone else.

The party seems to just be reaching its peak as dusk hits, the black-blue sky rolling across the ranch and you have a perfectly rolled joint burning a hole in your pocket—begging to soothe your nerves.

Chucho Peña has come to love throwing these parties over the summer and he’s made it a bit of a tradition at this point. The town comes together in droves to fill in all the space across the ranch—the barn house done up with string lights and a makeshift dance floor while the beer flows and the food packs plates as tightly as everyone is packed into the barn. Lively music blares into the night and since any other houses out here are miles away, it does so until the last guest leaves.

You were dragged here by your best friend, Maria, who refused to take no for an answer even after you came with her just last week—and the week before.

“What the fuck else is there to do in Laredo on a Friday night ?” She’d said. “It’s free beer. Hello?”

“Maria, we’re in our 30s now,” your eyes rolled. “I haven’t been concerned about free beer since I was like 24.”

“So, let’s just pretend like we are? 30’s are the new 20’s anyways.”

So you came. Again—but the beer is just not cutting it for you tonight and you’re definitely not up for dancing.

You crane your neck towards the dance floor and see Maria dancing with some poor drunken soul who thinks he has a chance, so you take it as your cue to slip out the door of the barn without anyone noticing. You take a look across at the fields. There’s a bonfire going at one end, some kids relishing the last days of summer swinging on a play set at the other—and then you dip around to the backside of the structure where it’s darker. Quieter. More private.

You reach into your dress pocket and glide your fingers over the smooth paper, gripping it and the lighter in your palm.

You run the tightly rolled cone under your nose, inhaling the alluring scent of its earthy green contents. You place it between your lips and flick the lighter, holding the tip of the flame to the end while you inhale. You pull the smoke deep into your lungs and hold it there for a few seconds before you exhale a fluffy herbal cloud.

A tickle in your throat.

Then a massive cough. Followed by another and another.

“Fuck,” you cough out as you catch your breath.

Once you settle, you lean your head back against the barn, the bass steadily beating through the walls. You guess at least the stars look pretty out here in the middle of nowhere.

“Why the fuck do you do that shit anyways?”

The deep rasp of his voice startles you and you jerk your head towards the side it bellowed from. He’s stomping out a finished cigarette with the heel of his boot. He looks at you with a mixture of intrigue and disgust.

Javier Peña.

You know him—albeit not super well. He was a handful of years older than you and your group of friends, but he hung out with Maria’s brother a lot during high school and college so you were in each other’s orbit.

You’d had a crush on him.

Of course you did.

All the women in this town do.

When you were 20, Maria’s brother’s group of friends and yours merged together one night when they both had assumed they had control of the basement for the evening. You all sat around drinking cheap beer while the boys rough housed until someone had the drunken idea to play 7 minutes in heaven.

The group of dudes hyped Javi up to spin first and you’d rolled your eyes. He had just moved back after college and despite his current reputation, back then he hadn’t reached sex god status.

When the bottle pointed at you, you felt your blood run cold even under the beer’s influence. When the two of you locked eyes, his gaze wasn’t hungry or creepy. It was reassuring. Almost comforting.

Somehow that made you more nervous.

“Aren’t we too fucking old to be playing this game anyways?” You’d said in protest. A last ditch effort to reason with the bunch of drunks. It was followed by chants of “Closet! Closet! Closet!” While you were pulled up from the floor by your arms.

They threw you in first, then Javi walked in on his own.

Then it went dark with the click of the lock.

“This is so stupid” you huffed.

He groaned as he sat down on the floor next to you, his arm accidentally brushing up against yours. The warmth of him sent a shiver through you.

“You didn’t have to play, you know,” he teased.

“Javier, you know it’s not that simple. I would’ve been peer pressured into it the same way I was thrown into this fucking closet.”

He laughed and you felt your cheeks heat from his attention.

“Nothing has to happen, you know. We can sit here and do whatever we want. Talk. Or not. It doesn’t matter,” he shrugged.

“Hmm so why did you play anyways? Having trouble picking up the ladies or something?” You quipped.

He chuckled under his breath before a silence.

“No. Its not that—I guess I was hoping I’d get the chance to kiss someone in that room,” he murmured and looked over at you.

“Oh shit—sorry,” you laughed—mostly at his luck of being stuck with you in here. “Well now you have to tell me. Who is it?”

“Nah I shouldn’t,”

“Javi, come on!” You pushed his shoulder playfully. “You said we could do whatever and I wanna know, sooo….”

The only response he gave was keeping his eyes trained on you, barely visible in the blackness of the closet.

“Come on! Tell me….”

Nothing.

You heart started beating so hard you could hear it’s whooshing in your ears.

“Javi…” you said quieter, “is—um. Is it me?”

You felt ridiculous the moment you’d said it out loud.

“Yes,” is all he said.

You had nodded your head both in acknowledgment and to give him permission.

When his lips met yours, he brought a hand up to softly cup your face. He didn’t rush. It wasn’t sloppy. He knew exactly what he was doing and he was gentle about it.

It would’ve been almost sweet if it weren’t for the fact that you were picturing what else you’d like him to do to you.

When you both heard the timer go off in the other room and a bunch of hooting coming your way, you broke the kiss and then you never spoke of it again.

After that, you hadn’t seen him really since you were about to graduate college, a glimpse caught as you sat at a wedding that was supposed to be his.

And then he was gone.

After a few years of him being away, Chucho started throwing these parties—said it livens the place up.

And now here you are again.

Face to face in the dark with a much different Javier Peña.

“Oh shit—are you here to arrest me, McGruff the crime dog?” you giggle to yourself.

He doesn’t find it as amusing.

“Depends on if you answer my question or not,” he leans a shoulder against the barn, his arms crossed against his chest.

Yes. Javi’s different now, but so are you. You’re a completely different woman than the 20 year old in the closet.

You know how to get what you want now.

And you want him.

You lock your eyes onto his as you take another drag of the joint. You blow the smoke out of the side of your mouth as you both continue your stare down.

“It makes sex incredible,” you smirk, matter of factly as you flick the ash from the tip.

The look on his face tells you that’s not the answer he was expecting—he seems almost stunned, but at the same time his eyes go a shade darker.

He scoots closer to you.

You eye him up and down, playing unamused.

“You planning on getting laid tonight?” he smirks.

“Mmm…not necessarily,” you squint in fake pondering and take another puff, “unless something happens to present itself,” you shrug.

He smirks and averts his eyes coyly as he runs his tongue over his teeth.

Fuck he looks so good. 

He’s always looked good.

There’s a silence that’s long enough for you to get lost in your thoughts—your brain might as well be floating along with the silhouettes of the clouds above you in the evening sky.

“So, what if I wanna see if it’s true?”

The husk of his voice snaps you out of it.

“If what’s true?”

“If it makes sex incredible,” he shoots.

You laugh under your breath.

“Oh, are you planning on getting laid tonight, Javi?” you echo back.

“Yes.”

It’s all he says as he looks down his nose at you. Just like that night in the closet. Except this time there’s more weight behind it—dripping with the confidence that comes with more experience and lust.

You hold his gaze as you slink closer to him. Once you’re standing inches in front of him, he shamelessly rakes his eyes down your body.

You take another puff and then place a finger under his chin, guiding him to hover his mouth just above yours. You tease his lower lip with your thumb and ghost your lips against his, wordlessly coaxing him to open his mouth wider.

You slowly blow the smoke into his mouth and he instinctively inhales. The tension between you is as thick as the cloud that floats from you to him, made even heavier by the summer humidity.

Once you’ve emptied your lungs, you pull away from him. He almost chases you—as if he thought there’d be something more.

You lean back against the barn and watch as he finally exhales, smirking to yourself at the fact it was this easy to get a fucking former DEA agent to do drugs.

Even just the hint of getting pussy is enough to tear down a man’s morals.

“So, what do you think?” You ask smugly.

“I’ve smoked weed before you know,” he shoots back.

“Oh? So McGruff isn’t as straight laced as I thought? Hmm, interesting,” you extend your hand and offer the joint to him. He looks at it then back up at you skeptically.

You flick your hand, urging him to take it.

“Not as fun this way,” he mumbles as he plucks it from between your fingers. He brings it up to his lips—skillfully from the amount of cigarettes he smokes—then rips it harder than you thought he would.

“Well, I wanna make sure you get the full experience, ya know?” You quip.

As he reaches to hand it back to you, he goes into a coughing fit and buries his face in the crook of his elbow.

You giggle almost maniacally at how hard he tries to play it cool.

“Jesus—“ he says through a cough “--fucking Christ,” he tries to catch his breath.

“You good, Peña?” you hold back more laughter.

“Uhh—yeah. Yeah I’m good,” he breathes as he leans his head back against the barn.

You stomp the last bit of the roach out in the grass and then slide down to sit on the cool earth. He follows suit as he waits for the effects to take hold.

He inhales deep and sighs as he exhales. You figure this is as relaxed as he’s been in—who the fuck knows how long.

“This is actually really nice,” he says as he faces you—his eyelids getting heavier by the second.

“Glad I could help,” you say as a deceptively sweet smile spreads across your face.

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as you give into the high, both absentmindedly twirling blades of grass between your fingers as if it’s the most soothing thing in the world.

When your fingers accidentally brush against his, you turn your head to face him only to find he’s already looking at you. Even through the redness and heavy lids, you feel yourself drowning in the dark brown pools. Your eyes automatically drop to his lips, the plush bottom one practically begging to be nipped between your teeth.

You shift where you sit as the image of it passes through your thoughts, sending a jolt of arousal directly to your cunt.

He’s immediately attuned to the change in your demeanor—you wouldn’t expect anything less from a man who’s so well-practiced in reading the subtle cues of when a woman wants him.

You hear the familiar whoosh of blood in your ears and feel as they turn hot when your heart rate increases. It feels significantly more pronounced—thanks to the weed—and you know it’ll be the same for all the other sensations you plan on feeling tonight.

“You wanna go for a ride?” He asks with a sultry pout.

“I love going for rides,” you rasp.

He stands and then turns to extend his hands out to you. You grip onto them as he pulls you up from the grass and you stumble into him with a giggle.

He’s warm as he wraps and arm around you and he smells like an intoxicating mix of tobacco and a spicy vanilla.

You lean your face into the crook of his neck and ghost your lips over his pulse, murmuring “you smell good, Javi,” into his skin.

A strained groan slips from his lips and then he’s grabbing you by the hand.

“Fuck—let’s go,” he pulls you in the direction of where his truck is parked in the driveway.

You both hurriedly jump up into the cab of the truck. He flicks the engine on as you giggle when the springs of the bench bounce you into his side. The gravel ripples under the tires as he backs out and then speeds off across the front fields of the ranch that are unoccupied.

You make yourself comfortable as you press into him, snuggling your face back into the spot on his neck as he drives. You plant slow, delicate kisses from the crook up to his jaw as your hand rubs his thigh. He chokes back a moan then you feel him shudder under your touch before you realize the truck is slowing to a stop—his foot inadvertently moved off the gas when he’d closed his eyes.

“Javi,” you laugh, “do you wanna put the car in park or…”

“Huh? Oh—shit,” he chuckles with a lopsided grin, “uh, we’re not there yet.”

“Oh my fucking god,” you go into a laughing fit and he chuckles next to you.

“I got it, I got it. Just—don’t fucking touch me till we get there,” he tries to be serious but your laughter is contagious.

“But I’m having so much fun,” you pout.

“Just, stay over there,” he extends his arm out to playfully push you away as he starts to drive again.

You jerk forward when he breaks hard and throws it into park once he’s reached the spot.

The cabin is quiet, seemingly made more noticeable by the seclusion. You look out the windshield and can make out the half-circle of a lake, illuminated by blue moon-light—the truck surrounded by tall grass and giant rolls of hay.

You slide back across the bench to his side. You tilt your face up to his, eyes soft and rounded, his lips slightly parted as he takes you in.

“Are you gonna kiss me or what, Peña?” You whisper.

At this, he crashes his lips against yours, tangling a hand in your hair as he pulls you into him. You hum and smile blissfully into the kiss as he tries to pull you into his lap frantically.

“Hey, hey” you whisper against his lips and pull back, “slow down, Javi.”

As bad as you want him inside of you right now, you also want to make sure you both get to savor the experience—drag it out as long as you can possibly take it.

“Why?” He pants.

You pull your knees up to sit on them as you turn to face him, leaning in so that your lips are centimeters from his.

“Setting the intention,” you tease your tongue across his top lip then kiss him, “and slowly giving yourself over to it until you lose control,” another teasing kiss, ”is part of what makes fucking while you’re high so good,” your voice drips, thick and seductive before you pull his lower lip between your teeth.

“Sounds like some hippy shit to me,” he breathes out as he drops his head, slowing his pace to plant languid, wet kisses down your neck.

You hiss and tangle your fingers in his soft waves, goosebumps breaking out across your body.

“Mmm—we can stop if you want then,” you say unconvincingly, your mouth dropped open as he continues teasing the skin of your neck.

He nibbles lightly against your jaw as he makes his way back to your lips, heeding your advice by flicking his tongue out to slowly drag across your bottom lip.

“I’m not gonna stop until you tell me to, baby.”

Your brows furrow in want as you pull him in closer to deepen the kiss, whimpering into his mouth when your tongues roll against each other.

You get lost in him and he’s just as lost in you as you let how good it feels wash over you. Every breath, moan, tug of a lip between your unhurried, messy kisses is elevated—your pussy throbs every time he groans into your mouth. He grips handfuls of your ass as he tries to pull you into his lap.

“No—wait,” you stop him and then back off of him. He looks at you confused, his hair a mess. “Undo your pants,” you glide a finger between his skin and the top of his jeans as you eye him. “Want you to know how much better it’ll feel right now.”

His hands drop to his belt buckle before he lifts his hips to pull them down enough to free himself. Your eyes go wide in excitement when he springs free, thick and already leaking for you.

“No underwear, Javi?” You question playfully.

“What?” he asks incredulously.

You smirk and then bunch your dress up around your waist, revealing your bare pussy to him—your arousal glistening in the dim light from the moon.

“Oh fuck,” he moans as he tilts his head back against the headrest, his brain overheating under the influence of the drugs and the sight of you.

You drop your dress then reach over to wrap your hand around his thick length. It twitches at the lightest touch and heats your palm. You brush your thumb around the head teasingly, collecting the precum that releases with every pulse.

“Mmm,” you study it as it glistens on your thumb. “Is this all for me, Javi?” You rasp.

“Y—yes,” he pants, watching you with his pupils blown wide as you bring your thumb to your mouth and suck.

You pull it from your mouth with a pop and then you dip your head down to wrap your lips around his swollen head.

He hisses and then sighs in relief, an unconscious instinct sending his hand to twist and pull in your hair. You moan around him at the sting.

You let him pop out of your mouth, then kiss and lick around the tip while you work the shaft with your hand. Above you, he’s torn between keeping his eyes glued on the sight in his lap or it being too much, forcing him to squeeze his eyes closed just to keep it together long enough to actually fuck you.

“Fuuuck, that’s so fucking good, baby ohmygod,” he drawls.

You take your time working him, savoring every little pant and moan he makes because of you. When he lets out a pathetic whimper, your pussy flutters and floods, it’s sweet stickiness dripping down between your thighs. You dig your nails into the flesh of his thigh where you’re propping yourself up and now you’re the one trying to keep it together.

As you suck him, your hips roll against nothing but air, desperate for any kind of friction. He seems to notice your body screaming for touch because the hand that was in your hair trails down your back, then fingers lightly drag against your soaked, exposed folds. The sensation is so overwhelming you have to pull off of him. You freeze with your head buried in his lap as a needy moan rips from your chest. He teases them against your opening and you shudder as you push your hips back into them.

“Wanna be filled up so bad, don’t you hermosa? Fuck, look at you,” he groans.

You’ve fucked high before plenty of times—but this time somehow feels different. The way his body reacts to you and your insane attraction to him has your head completely empty, guided only by the haze of your want for him.

You sit up—propped on your knees— and pull your dress over your head, leaving yourself completely exposed in front of him. He drinks you in, his gaze dropping from your face down to your tits. A hand rubs and squeezes the flesh of your hip, skin dimpling under his touch.

He exhales hard, looking back to your face, still rubbing—up and down your side now.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” he whispers.

You lean forward and capture his lips with yours while he guides you to straddle his hips. You place a hand on his shoulder, the other dipping down between your bodies. When his tip brushes against your throbbing entrance, you whimper and dig your nails into his shoulder while he watches, awestruck.

“So sensitive. I can’t wait to watch you fall apart on this cock.”

You gasp when he sucks a peaked nipple into his mouth—his tongue rolling patterns around it that you swear you can feel in your clit.

You position yourself on top of him and he pulls himself off of your breast to watch. You press your forehead to his, both panting, sharing breaths as you slowly lower yourself down onto his length. You’re probably wetter than you’ve ever been before but he’s so thick you have to drag your hips back up and sink down a few times to cover him in your slick while he stretches you.

When you’re finally sunk down to the base, you both keep your bodies still for a moment. His strong hands have a death grip on your wide hips, making sure you can’t move yet. Your heat flutters and clenches around him, the feeling amplified when he pulses inside of you. You moan into each others mouths before you bring him in for another hungry kiss.

You slowly start to work your hips back and forth, little by little. You can feel every inch dragging in and out of you this way, setting an unhurried pace so you can be sure that he feels every ripple of your walls in return.

The cabin of his truck fills with the sounds of your shared panting, moans, and little whispers. The sounds of your kisses and the squelching of your pussy as it drenches his lap.

“Javi— feelsogood,” you manage to mumble.

“Ohh fuck, yeah baby keep riding me just like that,” he watches as you increase the pace, brows furrowed and his mouth agape in pleasure.

You toss your head back as you moan and he buries his face into your chest. You move one hand from his shoulder to the top of his seat for better leverage and you start to thrust your hips into him harder. You feel the pressure building every time you sink back down on his cock.

You’re both completely gone now—given yourselves over as you said you should. Nothing exists outside the confines of this truck. The sound of your bodies slapping together echoes around you. All you can focus on is the way his eyes bore into you, the slope of his nose in the shadow of the moonlight. Your mouth hangs open in silent ecstasy as you sporadically plant messy kisses to each other's lips.

You slow your pace some, rolling against him, still using the leverage of the seat while you position just right so that his head rubs against your g spot.

You grip the hair at the back of his head, feeling like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth. One of his hands leaves the flesh of your ass cheek when he notices your head dipping as you lose control. He grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger so that you’re forced to keep your eyes on his.

You intensify your pace again as you build higher, spiraling up to your orgasm quickly. You frantically bounce in his lap, the sounds of him whimpering beneath you sending you closer to your release.

“Yeah, fuck me. Take what you need from me, pretty girl,” he grits, barely hanging on himself.

“Javijavijavi, fuck, yes,” is all you can chant over and over.

“Keep saying my name like that and I’m gonna fucking come, baby, fuck,” he groans.

As your hips start to stutter, he wraps a strong arm around your waist, the other hand gripping the hair at the back of your head as he holds you against him. You whimper at his tenderness during such a depraved moment and then are quickly sent to your end while he coaches you.

“It’s right there isn’t it, hermosa? Let go, let me see how pretty you look cumming on my cock. Please,” he pants into your mouth.

Your body seizes in his arms as your mouth drops open in a silent O. Your vision goes white and you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut as you go limp, your forehead pressed against his as your pussy spasms around him. He thrusts up into you a couple more times and he’s following right behind you—face buried in the crook of your neck, thick, hot ropes of him painting your walls. He shudders and pulls you into him tighter as he moans and whimpers into your skin. A satisfied grin spreads across your face as you revel in it.

As you both catch your breath, he frees himself from where he’s become buried in your hair, pulling you in for a reverent kiss. You both start smiling into it, then begin quietly laughing at what the fuck just happened.

“Holy shit,” he pants out.

“Mm hmm,” you nod and bite your lip. You can still barely hold your eyes open—whether it’s from the weed or being blissed the fuck out you’re not sure.

“That was—“ he starts.

“Incredible?” you tease.

“Fuck—I guess you were right,” he leans his head back against the headrest, his eyes drooped closed just as much as yours.

“I told you so,” you say before you nibble against his chin.

“I swear I think I lost my hearing for a good minute while I came,” he marvels.

“That happens sometimes,” you say matter of factly as you climb off of him.

He shifts to sit up straighter in the seat at the loss of the warmth of your body in his lap. You dig around on the floor trying to find your black dress in the dark.

“Wait—let me see,” a hand trails up your thigh as you sit back up. You position yourself towards him, then spread your legs open for him to see the mess he made of you.

He exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw clenching in restraint as he looks at the scene before him.

You bite your lip at how ruined he looks—satisfied in knowing that you’re the cause. After giving him enough time to commit the way he drips out of you to memory, you find your dress and slip it over your head. He helps you pull it down and straighten it before he tucks himself back into his jeans.

You both settle back into each other and sigh at the same time, spurring a fit of giggles between the two of you.

“Oh my god, Javier Peña giggles and no one’s gonna believe me,” you tease.

“Good. I don’t need my reputation getting ruined,” he quips as he lightly smacks your thigh.

“I’m just gonna keep getting you high until it can’t be kept a secret anymore,” you taunt as you press a finger into his chest. He chuckles under his breath.

The cabin falls silent again as you soak in the afterglow. You yawn as you lean your head on his shoulder.

“Hey—“ he starts

“Yeah?” you say sleepily.

“Do you remember that night in the basement—in the closet?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m surprised you do though,” you yawn again.

“Why would you say that?” He sounds genuinely confused.

“Because—you were Javier Peña and I was just Maria’s friend,” you shrug.

“No—you weren’t,” he insists.

“It was a long time ago, Javi—and we just fucked each others brains out. It’s okay,” you laugh reassuringly.

“No, I mean—I wanted to ask you something then and I just never got a chance to.”

You sit up and face him, now curious on what he could possibly have to say.

“Go on…” you encourage, an eye brown raised.

“Uh—can I take you out?” He asks with a lopsided smirk.

“That was it?”

“Uhh yes?” He nods and laughs.

“Yeah. You can take me out,” you straighten your back and flip your hair playfully over your shoulder.

“Good. It’s settled then,” he says as he twirls your hair in his fingers.

“Yes,” you smile, “now take me home Javier Peña. I’ve got a date with a pint of Cherry Garcia and my bed.”

tags: @ak-vintage @peepawispunk @80ssong @sunshinehaze1 @kedsandtubesocks @indiegirlunited @shchristine @kilamonster