✎ Egyptology 101 ღ: (series, ongoing) Steven Grant teaches Late Egyptian Language and Texts at UCL, you are one of his best students. He's always attracted you for some reason, he's a bit odd, but he seems sweet, polite and overall attractive. You think your advances are unrequited, your teasing seems to go unnoticed. At least in your opinion. What you don't know is that Steven is going crazy over you, he wants you just as bad as you want him, but he won't' admit it to himself. Which is why Marc has to step in.
✎ Loverboys ღ: a rather stressful day for you soon turns into a nightmare, luckily Marc and Steven are there for you.
✎ Scream ღ: While watching a movie, Steven ends up getting scared to death after a rather harsh scene. You end up teasing him about it, but soon the table turns around
✎ Softcore: Marc finds himself in a compromising position after Steven tells you he loves you
✎ Hardcore: set after Softcore. Steven isn’t pleased with how Marc is behaving, with how he’s monopolising you, he tries not to show it but one night, after Marc takes you to dinner, Steven loses it.
✎ Oral headcanon ღ
✎ Sex headcanon ღ
✎ Scarred: You come back after a week at your parents' house, needless to say it didn't go that well
✎ Relationship headcanon
❁ Steven Grant ❁
✎ Facesitting headcanon ღ
✎ Don't blame me ღ: A night out turns into a wet dream of yours
✎ Skin ღ : submitted - "Heyy can we get a little bit more based on on "don't blame me" maybe a drabble. Steven being calm yet so feral made me all mushy and anjsuajshwjennsjs"
✎ Date at the museum with Steven
✎ Steven being a dad
❁ Jake Lockley ❁
✎ Stargazing: A lot of first times, lots of intimate moments filled with joy, pain and trust to get where you and Jake are
✎ Dating Jake headcanon
✎ La Noche de Anoche ღ: Jake comes to pick you up after a night out, things unravel once you find out where he had been during those hours
✎ Jake tying you up to the bed headcanon ღ
✎ NSFW alphabet ღ
❁ Jonathan Levy ❁
✎ Poang ღ: Jonathan doesn't know how to ask you to sit on his face
❁ Poe Dameron ❁
✎ First time with Poe ღ
❁ Multi ❁
✎ From softest dom to hardest one ღ
✎ Dating the characters as a virgin + daddy kink ღ
PEDRO PASCAL:
❁ Joel Miller ❁
✎ Better in the dark ღ: When Joel gets a call from Sarah's school, the last thing he's expecting is to run into the most attractive woman he has ever seen. The only problem is that he doesn't even know how to make an approach without embarrassing himself
Summary: There's only one rule in your work ethics book: do not fuck the bar patrons. It's difficult though, especially if they have a nice ride, a huge ego and kind green eyes.
Tags: AU!, there are no monsters here, s1 Dean, meet cute?, alcohol consumption, flirting, courting (in a way??), oral sex (f receiving), praise kink, overstimulation, riding, unprotected P in V (do it safely you guys pls), creampie
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader (no use of y/n)
Word count: 12.9k
Author's note: Wow, alright, it's been a minute since I've been on here. Hiatus is kinda over, kinda not, we'll see how busy I get with my damn job. Being a bartender is fucking hell on Earth. Anyway, we're back baby and I'm dabbling my feet into my fav fandom, again. I used to be very active in the spn community like five years ago, and now I'm back into it because it's impossible to escape this hellhole. Anyhoo, I hope you'll like this, English is not my first language so all the mistakes are mine. Toodles!
Weekdays in January were slow, after the holidays people seemed to prefer to stay inside and not spend a dime, the rigid temperatures in Sioux Falls didn't help either. No one in their sound mind would trade the comfort of their houses, with their sofas and pillows and blankets, for a hard stool or a booth in a bar.
There were a few guys who still popped in for an hour or two, their bravery never ceased to amaze you. You didn't know what compelled them to go out at night, but you were glad to see those faces, even if it was for a short period of time. You thrived during the busy hours, the adrenaline of the rush made your fingertips tingle and your blood speed through your whole body, you almost needed that shock of dopamine once in a while.
At twenty-one, your life was almost too put together: a well-paying job, a place to yourself, a life away from the chaos of your past. You had moved to South Dakota at eighteen, college being the excuse, a poor one too since you only lasted for three semesters before dropping out. Now, three years later, you were still working in the same bar, not as a server anymore but as the bartender.
Regulars knew you by name, you even hung out with them during your free time, you got close with a bunch of them and, in less than a few months, they all became your close friends. You were grateful, it meant a lot to you: for once, you fitted in.
"Get your ass inside, boy. I ain't tryin' to freeze my balls off."
You hadn't heard the bell above the door ring, too engrossed in watching a stupid video about some drama between two celebrities you didn't even know - but you lived for it, gossip was just too much fun sometimes, it helped you pass the time.
Bobby Singer was one of your favourite patrons ever, he was an old grunt who treated you way too nicely and fixed your shitty car for free at least once a month. He came in almost every night for a beer after work, he sat on the stool right in the middle of the bar counter and munched on a few peanuts while chatting about anything and everything.
He tipped well. He also loved to bring you his leftovers, but you were pretty sure he always cooked more food than he needed on purpose. You didn't mind, you loved his cooking.
"Hey, Bobby. The usual?" You didn't bother to wait for a response.
"Make it two." His gruff voice echoed in the empty bar.
That was unusual, Bobby never liked company when he was at the bar, he loved to drink alone and not be bothered. You looked up, eyebrows raised in confusion, ready to fire a hundred questions, but Bobby’s calm demeanour and smile made you shut up in an instant.
“What’s the usual s’posed to be?” A younger voice chimed in.
“IPA.” You looked up. “That okay with you?”
You knew you were fucked, screwed even, as soon as Bobby’s friend cocky smile hit you in the guts.
He sure as hell was a handsome boy, he was tall and smug, you could already tell by the way he stood next to Bobby, chest puffed out with a grin on his face. The leather jacket he was wearing was a bold choice, but judging by how red and shiny his nose and hands were, you could tell he was already regretting it.
“I’m more of a stout guy, I like ‘em sweet.”
He winked at you.
Not even two minutes after walking inside the bar and the dude was already flirting, pathetically too. You were surprised by the grunt of annoyance that came from your lips, you stared at him, not sure how to respond to such a cheesy and almost cliché way of hitting on you.
Bobby sat on his usual stool and the younger guy sat next to him, he took off his jacket and looked around the bar, eyes moving rapidly as he took in every little aspect of the room. From the walls decorations to the drinking and food menus, you could see him memorise the environment with a swift movement of his eyes.
“I’m Dean.” He adjusted his flannel collar. “Bobby’s nephew.”
“Cool.” You introduced yourself, curtly and with a twinge of annoyance in your voice.
You had heard countless stories from Bobby about his nephews - not by blood, but the boys had practically grown up with the man -, he was proud of them. The youngest one was going to be a lawyer, he had a full college ride at Stanford and Bobby secretly added money to his bank account every three weeks on the dot. The oldest was a mechanic, a damn good one too since he was managing a car shop at only twenty-six.
You placed Bobby’s IPA in front of him, refilled the peanuts bowl and fished out some chips. You went back to the drought, you didn’t know if Dean had been joking or not, but you had a milk stout on tap that had arrived earlier that week. You poured him one and served him, no words were exchanged.
You watched as Bobby talked, his voice hushed and low, and judging by the face Dean was making it was not a pleasant talk. His shoulders had significantly dropped, his eyes weren't budging from the counter and his mouth was stuffed with chips. It would have been a hilarious sight if you actually cared about the dude.
Dean sat still, the glass in his hands felt a little too heavy and his mouth was too dry. The beer was good, what had been a stupid pick-up line actually seemed to work in his favour. The dive bar was empty except for them and another patron, an older guy with glasses. Business surely was slow this time of the year.
His eyes kept wandering, more often than not he found himself staring at you, at how you looked leaning on the counter with your phone in your hands. He wanted to hit on you again, maybe lay it down harder and use all of his charm to convince you to give him a chance.
But it was hard to do so with Bobby whisper-screaming in his ear.
They left after only three more beers, Dean was stone-cold sober. Bobby paid, left a good tip for you - only for you, he made sure to specify it twice - and made his way out of the bar. You were standing right next to the door, Dean almost hit you as he made his way out. You didn't budge, you gave him a dirty look and kept on scrolling through your phone as you toyed with the butt of your cigarette.
It was a bad habit, you knew that, but you were trying to quit.
"See you tomorrow, missy." Bobby nodded in your direction.
"See ya." Dean muttered, walking to his car, keys in hand. "Thanks for the beer."
You hummed, sucking in a breath. You cocked your head to the side, you had been staring at the muscle car in front of you since you stepped foot outside. You didn't know much about the car world, you only knew that one looked cool and shiny, it was pleasant to gauk at and it did pique your interest. You were more than surprised to see who it belonged to.
"That's yours?" You flicked the cigarette into the ashtray, exhaling the last drag.
Dean opened the driver's door and leaned on the hood. "Baby's my pride and joy." He softly patted the metal and grinned.
"Cool car."
With that, you walked back in, leaving Dean and Bobby outside.
You saw Bobby, and only him, for a week straight. He came in, drank his beers, ate his peanuts and walked out. Every day, exact same time, exact same stool. He was a comforting presence, even in the chaos of a Saturday night you found him sitting in his spot with his eyes glued on the TV, watching whatever game was on. He didn't complain, although he wasn't the biggest rugby fan and he always made sure to point it out.
The bar was packed, there were no empty seats, the boots were all full and both the cook and you were slaving over hundreds of orders. Apparently, everyone had decided to go out that night. You didn't mind, you loved the fast-paced rush hours, but it was a little too hard when there were only three people on shift instead of four. You and your bosses were managing alright, perhaps a little backed up but you had everything under control.
Bobby looked at you, he gave you a silent nod and you hurried to pour him another beer; you also refilled his peanut bowl, just for good measure. You stole a few peanuts from him whenever you walked past him, the kitchen was too packed for you to go in and ask for some food for yourself, the bar was too behind on orders to be left unattended.
Two more hours passed, people began to fade out, it was barely midnight and you could finally breathe. Your skin was still buzzing with adrenaline, your feet were starting to hurt and the knee you had bumped in a corner was starting to bother you. Your stomach was growling now, you were hoping - praying, even - the cook had left you some food.
"Hey."
You needed to change the damn bell above the door.
Dean was the last person you were expecting to see that day. From what you had gathered from Bobby, Dean was the mechanic, and he did not live in Sioux Falls or in South Dakota.
"What can I do for you?" You tried your best to fight off the surprise on your face. "Same beer as last time?"
Cocky smile, again. "So you remember me and my order, must've made quite the impression. Awesome." He sat on the stool in front of you. "No, thanks though. Uncle Bobby said you make a mean old fashioned."
"Guess I do." You placed both of your hands down. "Jim Beam or Knob Creek?"
"Whatever you got on hand." He was still wearing his brown jacket, the strong smell of leather strangely fit him a little too well. "I ain't picky."
You bent down to grab the bourbon, the Angostura and an orange. You could take your time now, you didn't even have to rush it and you could spend a few minutes on it, making sure everything was perfect. Dean sat quietly, he looked at what you were doing without saying a word, he observed you mix the Angostura with the sugar - brown, you liked how it made the cocktail taste like caramel.
The bourbon went in after the sugar dissolved fully, you mixed everything together slowly, incorporating the bitter with the whiskey, you peeled the orange and twisted it over the glass, the essential oils spritzed on top of it all. You didn't know why your hands felt slippery, damp even, you had never been nervous behind the counter. Never. It was your safe space.
"Cherry or no cherry?" You had already grabbed a pick.
"Yeah, two." He only received a nod in response. "Awesome."
You complied and handed Dean his cocktail. As you were preparing it, he had taken off his jacket and was now wearing a t-shirt, a plain black one that looked a little too good on him. His arms were muscular, his biceps were bigger than you expected and his skin was clearly still a little tan from wherever he came from. A pendant hung right in the middle of his toned chest, catching your eye.
You were a fan of it. You were fucked.
"You need to learn how to dress for the weather, buddy."
Why did you say that? What passed through your damn head to make you say such a stupid thing? You were fucked, royally fucked.
Dean eyed you from head to toe, his chest puffed out a little and his lips curled around the hem of his glass. That smug look, again, with his cocky smile and biceps all on display. His broad shoulders had gone unnoticed the first time you had seen him, but in that tight t-shirt they surely popped out.
"If you don't like what you see, you can always go and see why your boss shouted your name three times already." He raised his glass in your direction and took a sip, exaggerating the movement. "Damn, this is awesome."
You rushed to the kitchen, hiding in it and listening to whatever funny anecdote your boss had been thinking about. You thought you had messed up, but he had been calling you just to share what he had remembered. He was a man with priorities, after all.
Dean was still sitting on his stool when you walked out of your hiding spot, his cocktail was long gone and his fingers were fidgeting with his ring. You started tidying up your position, you put away what you didn't need and started throwing away all the mess you had created during rush hours. You liked to keep a clean counter and an even cleaner working area.
"Was Bobby right then?" You broke the silence this time, you felt compelled to. You had to.
"Uncle Bobby's never wrong." He clinked his ring on the glass and tipped it over to you. "I'm more of a beer guy, love me some whiskey though. Can never go wrong with that." He nodded to himself, lips parted. "Mind making me another one?"
You took the glass from him. "Wanna try something else? Whiskey based, maybe?"
"Go for it."
He didn't say a word as you crafted his drink, you opted for a sazerac this time. It wasn't much different from an old fashioned, it used rye whiskey instead of bourbon, a different kind of bitters and you had to rinse the glass with absinthe, but you were pretty sure Dean was going to like it.
Once you finished making it, you placed it on the coaster. He studied it first, he took a whiff, then another, before trying it. He pursed his lips, smacked them open and sipped on it again, this time letting it linger on his tongue before swallowing it.
You were staring, you knew he could tell but if you played your cards right, you could always convince him you were waiting for his opinion on the drink. Dean didn't have to say a word, though, he almost gulped all of it down in one go.
He surely could handle his liquor.
"Even better than the old fashioned." Dean took a final sip and placed the empty glass back on the coaster. The ice was still intact, it didn't even start to melt yet. "When do you close?"
"Got another hour. Why?"
"Just curious, wanted to see if I had time for one more drink. Maybe two." Dean clinked his ring on the glass. "Go wild, doesn't have to be with whiskey this time."
Before closing time, Dean managed to put six drinks under his belt. He tried a fruity one - didn't like it that much -, one with tequila and mezcal, one with three different kinds of vodka and a sour one. That was a hit, he almost ordered another one but his phone rang. It kept on doing so as he was paying, too. He left a good tip and a crumpled napkin behind.
You only had one rule in your book: do not fuck the patrons.
You swore by that, you had built your whole working persona on it. Dudes left you alone, they didn't even try to flirt anymore, they saw you just as the bartender and you loved it, you needed the peace. Fucking customers was only going to complicate things, serving them would be awkward and what if the sex sucked? You wouldn't be able to look at them in the eyes anymore.
You weren't trying to play hard to get, you knew Dean was clearly hitting on you and you wanted to cave in, you wanted to fuck him and have the time of your damn life. He was attractive, you couldn't deny it, his sharp green eyes were mesmerizing and if he leaned over the counter you could also see his freckles, his long lashes, his slightly crooked nose, his full lips.
You surely had the chance to admire him from afar during the last two weeks. Dean came in religiously every single day, he arrived late and stayed there until closing time, sometimes he came in earlier with Bobby and stayed until 11pm. He sat in the same spot every time, he chatted with you if you weren't busy and he stared if you were; you could feel his gaze on you whenever you turned your back.
"San Francisco is much warmer than this hellhole, man." Dean whined to Bobby one night. "Gotta find a fucking coat or something."
"Bout damn time, boy." His glass was almost empty. "Sam shipped your shit yet?"
"Yeah, should arrive tomorrow." Dean pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers with a sigh. "I'm losing my goddamn mind, house is a fucking mess with all the boxes lying around."
Bobby nodded, silently asked for a refill for both him and Dean, the peanut platter was full still and you also gifted him a little plate with some cheese, vegetables, fruit and honey. It was a hit. They had devoured it in a second, even the "green shit" had been eaten in an instant.
By 10pm, Dean ended up being the only patron in the bar. He was rambling about a Western movie he had seen only a couple of days ago, he recounted every single detail about it and he made sure to put emphasis on what he liked and disliked about it. His voice had started to become relaxing, it kept you company.
He never shut up, he always had something to say.
Truth be told, Dean was running out of topics to chat about. There was no one left and he knew that, even if it was too early for you to close, perhaps he could try his luck just one more time.
Usually he didn't try to go after someone for so long, if they didn't seem interested he would just drop it and move on, he didn't want to chase after anyone anymore. He wasn't a teenager nor a young adult, he was a grown man who liked to spend his time around people who were into him, too.
Yet, for some unknown reason, he found it hard to leave you alone. Perhaps it was the demeanour, perhaps it was the personality, the looks, the fact that you actively explained to him all the cocktails you made during the night, letting him taste a few of them if he asked nicely. Perhaps it was the fact that you had liked his car. Perhaps it was how you talked to him, how you looked at him through your lashes whenever he said something funny. He wasn't sure, he didn't care.
He found himself in the same dive bar every night, same stool, same damn bowl of peanuts as Bobby, and he wasn't tired of it. He could sit there for hours, days, as long as he got to talk to you and look at you - especially if you wore a certain pair of jeans that made your legs look incredible, ass full and tempting.
The thoughts that ran through his head made him wonder if there was something morally wrong in him.
The first time he imagined how you’d taste happened on a Wednesday night. You hadn’t been behind the counter when he walked in, your boss - the tall one, Alex if he wasn’t mistaken - served him and went back into the kitchen. Before seeing you, he smelled you.
The perfume you were wearing made Dean shiver, he had never in his life, not once, smelled such a rich and intoxicating scent. It made him whip his head around, his back hunched over the glass and eyes stuck on you.
Your long-sleeved shirt hugged your breasts and waist tightly, you were wearing those goddamn jeans and your hair was up in a slick back bun - for once, Sam’s stupid rambling had been useful. Where had you placed the perfume? Behind your ears? On your exposed neck and chest? Everywhere? He was going to lose his mind.
Dean sat there, you gave him a nod of acknowledgement and scurried behind the bar. His eyes never left you, not once, he kept on staring at how you bent down, at how your jeans curved around your back and ass. He wondered if it was soft and meaty, if he could grab a handful of it and squeeze, hold onto it for dear life.
His mind wondered, wandered, and he found himself unable to stop his cock from taking interest in what was going on. Hiding a semi in a dive bar was probably one of his lowest points in life. It was either that or the intrusive image of you bent over the counter, voice hoarse from your pleas and moans.
Were you vocal or quiet? Did you like to be taken from behind, to be fucked until your knees buckled and your brain stopped working? Or did you prefer to ride your guys? Were you a missionary gal? He needed to know, he had to know.
Dean blinked, he pushed away the memories of that cursed Wednesday and cleared his throat, nervous, on edge about nothing in particular. It was too early for him to leave, if he went back home he would just rot in his bed, dick in hand, and as much as he loved to get off, he wanted to stay out a little longer.
"We're about to close, you gonna pay or you want a last round?" You had popped into his eyesight out of nowhere.
"Nah, I'm all good." He placed his money down and sucked on his teeth. "What'cha doing after?"
"Nothing that interests you."
Dean chuckled to himself. "C'mon now, ain't trying to hit on you. I just wanted to know if you were up for a drink or two." He could already see you trying to snap back at him. "As a friend, call it a thank you for looking after Bobby all this time."
"I'll think about it."
Dean's knuckles knocked on the hardwood, he stood up, put his lather jacket on and adjusted his shirt under it. His hands were clammy, his mouth was dry and he was feeling dizzy; to add to it, he was also way too sober for his liking. He wasn't used to going out with someone platonically, he didn't have many friends and his brother didn't count.
He took women out only if he knew he was going to get his dick wet or score a few dates, it was probably a shallow thing to do but he didn't care. He didn't need friends, he had never had friends, that wasn't going to change now.
You were a different story, though. Call it pining, call it being dumb, call it being a fucking idiot, he only knew he liked to have you around him and if you only wanted to be friends, he could learn how to deal with it. He had to. Sometimes crumbs of something were enough to get by if you knew how to pace your hunger.
"Ready when you are." You adjusted your coat and hat. "Where do you wanna go?"
"I know a bar that stays open until late." Dean grabbed his car keys from his pocket as he held the door open for you. "I'll show you."
"I'll follow you with my car." You knew him, but you didn't trust him that much.
"Fair enough."
Dean's car rumbled to life as yours sputtered a few times before turning on, you waited for Dean to start driving and you followed him. You knew you were going to regret this, you knew you were going to break your own rules, it was going to be too hard to resist him if you got drunk. If he leaned too close, lips rosy and plump, you might just crumble and give in.
The nights you spent on shift staring at him were more than you could count on your fingers, he either looked too good or looked so tired that it made your stomach knot and your thighs clench. When his voice got thick, and his eyelids droopier, your mouth watered and your pussy pulsed, begging silently to be filled and touched.
You stopped at a red light, Dean was in front of you and his arm hung from the open window, you could hear the Bob Seger song he was listening to. He looked up to the rearview mirror and your eyes met for a brief second, you could see his smirk as he winked and sped forward, leaving you behind.
Baby was parked right next to the entrance, Dean was leaning on the hood with his arms crossed over his chest. You locked your shitty car, put your hat back on and sighed, begging God or whoever was up there to give you strength and self-control. In the weeks you had known Dean, he had flirted with you relentlessly, sometimes in a joking way, sometimes in a more serious one, but he never crossed any line, he was respectful and knew to back off if you told him to.
Dean had picked a hell of a place: the booths were barely lit, the bar smelled like cigarettes and weed, the glasses hadn't seen a dishwasher in probably all their lives and the shelves were covered in dust. The owner was nice, though, and he closed at 2am every single day.
"What'd'ya want?" Dean was standing right behind you, you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. "I think I'll go with a beer, uh... lager."
"I'll go with a negroni americano." It was going to be a long fucking night.
"The Campari one?"
You nodded, he was still standing behind you, whenever he spoke you could feel his voice tumble around your head, filling up every crevice of your body. You licked your lower lip as Dean's arm sneaked past you so he could grab both your drinks, his knuckles barely brushed over your waist and your grip on your own coat tightened.
He led the way, chose a booth in the back and sat down, eyes staring up at you in a silent invite to come and sit with him. You placed your coat down, sliding across the bench so that you were right in front of him. You clinked your glass with his and took a sip. It wasn't bad, a little watery but not too bad.
For someone who never shut up, Dean surely was quiet that night. He sat in silence for what felt like ages, he seemed to refuse to open his damn mouth. You didn't know what to say, you didn't even know if you were doing the right thing by being there.
"Bobby said you dropped out of college." Smooth Dean, smooth. He needed to learn how to connect his brain to his mouth sometimes. "What were you studying?"
"Woah, news spread fast here." You stirred the straw into your cocktail. "Doesn't matter, didn't like it in the end, I hated it. Got a job as I was studying, fell in love with the place and now here I am." You took a sip. "What about you? I heard you talk with Bobby about moving here."
Dean's hand shot to the back of his head, he scratched it for a minute as his expression soured. "Yeah, from San Francisco." The beer was gone in one gulp. "Made some bad decisions, worked with the wrong people and here I am." He sniffled and stood up. "Want another one?"
"Alright, yeah. Same as before, please."
It was obvious he didn't want to talk about why he had to move here, you suddenly felt like you were intruding by being nosy. You were curious though, you wanted to know more about him, you wanted to know if he had gone to college too, if he had graduated, if he had always wanted to be a mechanic, if he had other dreams while growing up.
Dean sat back down, his foot bumped into yours and he left it there. If you weren't so focused on finding the right thing to say, you might've tried to fuck with him and rub your ankle on his. You didn't, though, you sat there and sipped on your watered-down americano as Dean studied the foam of his beer.
"I'm from somewhere else too, I came here for college. City's not so bad, you end up either loving it or hating it. I'm somewhere in the middle, I don't deal well with this kind of winter, you know. I mean I like the cold? But this is too much, I hate all these layers and I hate having to bring this with me all the time." You raised your hat and placed it back on the bench. "I'm rambling."
"I don't mind, you ain't a chatty one at work, I assumed you were a quiet girl."
You laughed with him, the tension and awkwardness of the first few minutes soon left, the air was much clearer around the two of you. Dean relaxed, you leaned back and enjoyed your drinks, after three more of them you were starting to feel a slight buzz. Dean's cheeks were flushed, his eyes seemed even wider and darker than before, the pupil was almost swallowing it whole.
Dean's laugh grew louder and louder, so did your voice. You were finding it hard to keep it down, it didn't matter what the topic was since the two of you kept interrupting the other, sharing stories and anecdotes from your old lives. Dean was funny, he was direct and he didn't hold back, at all, he was honest even if it meant being perceived as mean.
The owner called the last round, it was a reality check for both you and Dean. It was late, way too late for your liking and you were wasted, you didn't even know how many drinks and shots you had in you, Dean had stopped after the third beer but you kept on going, enjoying freedom for one night.
You stood up when Dean did too, your feet didn't seem to cooperate with you and your tongue was much heavier than you remembered. You had issues finding the sleeves of your coat, you struggled with them for what felt like ages.
"Here, lemme help." Dean smelled like beer now. "One arm at a time." His fingers wrapped around your wrists, he slid your coat on with care, buttoning it up with steady fingers. "See? All done. Want the hat too?"
You nodded, suddenly too tired to even talk. Dean was so close to you, his chest was there and it rose and fell with each breath he took, the shirt was pulled tight over it, the first few buttons were undone and the hollow of his neck was showing, adorned with his necklace. You tried, you kept your hands to yourself and your mouth shut, holding onto your dignity for dear life.
You took a step and bumped into your table, you hit your hipbone and grunted in annoyance. That was going to sting tomorrow.
"Woah, easy there tiger." Dean's hand shot to the small of your back to keep you steady. "You ain't driving tonight."
"Can do it."
"Don't care, I'll drive you."
"I need my car tomorrow, gotta- uh... actually I can walk to work."
"I'll ask Bobby to drive it to your house tomorrow, alright?" You nodded, handing him the keys. "Awesome."
You didn't remember the walk to his car nor the drive home. You remembered the warmth of his hand on your upper arm, the low humming of the stereo, your head on his shoulder while you kept fighting sleep. Perhaps you went too hard with your cocktails, you should've stopped after the third.
He never stopped talking, never. He kept the car warm and - in a moment of weakness he hoped you wouldn't remember - your hair out of your face by pushing it back a few times during the drive. You smiled, mumbling a thank you and moving closer to him.
Dean didn't ask to walk you upstairs, he just did. He made sure you unlocked your front door and waited for you to walk in, without rushing you. He stood in the doorway, you stared at him with those three damn words stuck in your throat. You could do it, you could bend your own rules just a little, just this time.
"Wanna come in?" There, you said it.
Dean clicked his tongue. "You're wasted. Sorry, sweetheart. Ain't that kind of guy."
"Figured, you're a lovely guy." You toed off your shoes. "Thanks for tonight, had a great time." You were dragging your words a little too much for your own liking, it was time to go to bed. "Come by one of these days, drinks gonna be on me."
You shut the door in his face, Dean stood in front of it for a few minutes, staring at the wooden panel. "Still got it." He muttered to himself, chuckling. "Still fucking got it."
Working with a hangover was shit, your head was pounding and you were thirsty beyond human comprehension. The Advil you had taken wasn’t doing shit for you, you wanted to take another one, just for good measure so you could try and face that damn shift.
Your car had been right under your apartment, Dean had even made sure to place the keys in your mailbox. When you had climbed into your car, a bottle of water and a few snacks had been left on the passenger seat, a small note attached to the bag of chips.
“Car’s making a shitty noise, might be the serpentine belt. Lemme take a look at it before the damage’s too big to fix.”
Dean’s number was scribbled under it, you saved it just in case. You weren’t going to call him, you could not repeat what had happened the night before. Shame clouded your mind, how could you have been so dumb? You had made a fool out of yourself and you hadn’t been able to control your damn tongue, inviting him inside for what? For a quick fuck?
You could find someone else, you had to, you couldn’t get with him, even if you couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way his hand felt on your back, how his breath fanned over your cheeks and neck, his tongue poking out from between his teeth as he smirked and chuckled, you could remember it all.
Dean’s face was unable to hide his thoughts or emotions, his whole body spoke louder than he ever could. He was charming, he knew what spots to hit to rile you up and he knew you were a sucker for any kind of compliment regarding your bartending skills.
You waited all night to see him walk in, but he didn’t. He didn’t show up that night, he didn’t show up the night after either, a whole week passed without Dean and you were starting to worry. A sick part of your brain thought you freaked him out, it was all your fault, but that didn’t make a lick of sense.
Your phone burned in your pocket, you could always text him about your car and exaggerate the situation, tell him the noise was much louder than before and that your car was having other issues as well. It wasn’t even a lie.
You fought the urge, you pushed your phone away and drummed your fingers on the bar station. So you screwed up by going out with him and now you made it awkward, you lost a well paying costumer because you weren’t able to control yourself as you should have.
Bobby came in during that week, he didn’t say much but he brought you food twice. He asked about your car - did Dean tell him about that weird noise? - and he made you promise to stop by the garage that weekend. By pure luck, you were free on both Saturday and Sunday; you couldn’t even remember the last time you had a weekend off.
Bobby’s garage was weirdly empty, usually by 7pm it was packed full of cars and people. Bobby ran a tight schedule: get the cars during the weekdays, work on them and try to fix the problem by Saturday. However you were alone, no cars, no people either, in sight. There was only you and your fucked up car this time.
“Hello?” You called out, hand shoved deep in your coat pockets. “Bobby?”
You heard a loud clang and an annoyed grunt. “Son of a bitch!”
Fuck.
Since when Dean worked at Bobby’s?
You looked at your car, perhaps it could handle a few more miles. You could wait. Everything was fine.
Dean appeared from one of the back rooms, he was covered in dirt from head to toe, his hands were smeared with what you assumed to be oil or grease and the t-shirt he was wearing was stained. His hair wasn’t as tidy as he usually kept it, a few strands were pointing in weird directions and angles.
Everything was not fine.
“Hey.” He grabbed a towel from one of the work stations. “Car finally broke down on ya?”
“No, yeah. Kind of. Bobby told me to come by this weekend to get it looked at.” You stared at him as he wiped the grime off his hands. “I can come back another time if you’re busy.”
“Nah, I was just fixing my Baby up.” He threw the towel down on the ground. “Was making sure she's purring like a kitten.”
“How thoughtful.”
Dean walked over to you, he didn’t ask for permission before entering your car, he opened up the hood and took a swift look at the engine. He tsked, lips pursed with a hand behind his neck, fingers scratching the skin slowly. He didn’t say a word as he redirected the lamp, he didn’t even glance at you when you stepped a little closer to him.
He smelled like sweat and oil, there was the faintest trace of deodorant and body wash under it all, though. You could hear him breathe slowly, in and out, as he studied and tinkered with your engine, removing a piece and then another before putting them back in their places.
“Could’a called me.” Annoyance lingered in his voice, too subtle to be perceived immediately. “See, the issue is that this car is old, some parts need to be ordered and they won’t get here before Tuesday. I could patch it up but I wouldn’t fix the problem. You gotta leave it here for the week.”
“Right.” That was going to be a problem. “How much would it cost me?”
“‘s on the house. Bobby would skin me alive if I made you pay.” He closed the hood. “I was in San Francisco this week, if you had called me I could’ve grabbed the parts I needed and gotten done with this much faster.” He wiped his hands on his jean-clad thighs. “Oh well, what’s done’s done.”
“I didn’t hear any noise coming from it, didn’t want to bother you over nothing.” You had always been a shit liar.
Dean finally, finally, looked at you. “D’you miss me, sweetheart?” A chuckle, the same smug smirk on his face as all those days before.
“Not that much, no.” Why were sentences harder to form now, Jesus.
“So you did miss me a little.” He was too close for your liking, too close and too tempting. “A win is a win.”
You could just lean into him, just a few inches, and kiss him. You could, you could cave in and let your desire run wild and free. Yet, Dean stepped back. Your stomach tightened in need and desperation, you had to have him, you craved him and his touch. Those hands, ruined with hours of hard labour, had never been so inviting.
“C’mon, let me give you a loaner.” He was already walking away from you, an eyebrow raised with a silent question: are you coming or not?
The car Dean had chosen was nice, much nicer than yours and it ran smooth. The steering wheel didn’t fight back, the shift stick was a joy to use and the heater was working. You didn’t need to worry about it dying in the middle of the road and you could listen to the radio without losing signal whenever you took a turn.
You shot Dean a “thank you” text, to which he replied with a series of emojis that did not make a lick of sense to you. After that, texting him became part of your routine: he would ask you if you were about to close or if he had time for a drink, he would send you updates about the car, you would send him pictures of new cocktails you wanted him to try, you would also just share your day with him.
If you were crossing a line, you didn’t give a shit.
A week passed, Dean was still working on your car and you were still driving the loaner. You were still texting him, the conversations were much more mundane than before, memes and voice messages had been added into the mix now, too. Dean loved the voice notes, he would send one as soon as he woke up, either to share whatever he was having for breakfast or a fun fact he had heard on the news. His voice was always hoarse, deep and a little slurred, thick with sleep and a hint of playfulness.
Those were your favourite messages for all the wrong reasons. You found your mind wandering back to one of those notes one night, your fingers were quickly working over your clit and labia, spreading them open as you dipped your middle finger deep into your cunt. Your release was so close, so vivid, yet you couldn’t get there, you needed more, you needed something else. Dean’s voice bombarded you, sudden and unexpected, it made your toes curl and hips arch in the most languid and intense orgasm you had during those past months.
Dean sent you a text on Thursday night, a quick “too late?” that made you smile. He walked through the front door only a few minutes after. He greeted you with a nod and sat on his stool, he didn’t even have to say a word, you already had his drink ready. A simple whiskey, neat.
Patrons started to leave, one by one the bar ended up with no one inside except you and Dean. He was only on his second round, he had at least three more before calling it a night.
“‘s just you tonight? No bosses?”
“Yeah, slow night, rain doesn’t help either. Called them and told them to stay home.” Lucky for you, they both trusted you blindly. “I’m about to close up, but you’re welcome to stay if you want another round or two.”
“Gladly. Had a long ass day, I deserve a drink.” He finished his whiskey and put down the glass. “Hold up, I got something in the car. I’ll be right back.”
You finished sweeping and mopping the floor, Dean knew to come in by the backdoor. You pushed one of the tables against the front door, you put the chairs up and cleaned every surface, making sure to leave everything spotless.
You turned off the main lights, set a table for you and Dean with an ashtray in the middle. The softer lamps made the room look cosier and more intimate, the quiet music playing in the background was quite calming.
Dean walked in, he sat down at the table you had prepared and shrugged his jacket off. A clunk made you turn your head around, a bottle of Maker’s Mark sat next to the ashtray, two empty glasses in front of it.
“Sammy gifted it to me last time I visited him, thought we could share a few glasses.” He didn’t wait for you, he filled both glasses and stood up. “Here, to new beginnings.”
You clinked your glasses together and took a sip, the liquor hit your stomach like a punch, it warmed you up and flushed your cheeks slightly. You sat down, Dean joined you, your feet touched. Legs crossed, thighs clenched, you moved your right foot up slightly, resting it on his calf.
“Why did you go back to San Francisco?” Curiosity had always been your biggest issue.
“Had to finish some business, sort a few things out. Also had to pick up the last packages Sam couldn’t send.” He took another sip. “I stayed for a few more days so that I could hang out with him, ‘s going to be tough on the kid not having me around all the time.”
“Is it going to tough for you or for him?”
His expression became amused. “Touché.”
“Do you work at Bobby’s now?” You refilled both your glasses.
“I do, man needed some help and some fresh meat, y’know. Gotta keep the MILFs interested.” A laugh erupted from both of you. “He taught me everything I know ‘bout cars, it’s the least I can do.”
Your foot moved up, Dean stilled and shut his mouth, the tips of his ears were rosy. Was he blushing? Couldn’t be. In your eyes, he was the most confident person you had ever met, he wasn’t scared of putting his intentions out there, he didn't seem to be used to rejection either.
You kept going, your foot started to move back and forth over his calf, inching up his jeans slowly, savouring the way his eyes widened after each movement. He blinked rapidly, his lips opened and closed in a poor attempt to say something, to come up with anything to say that didn't involve too much thinking.
His brain was about to dribble out of his head if you kept eyeing him up and down while working your foot over his flushed skin.
Dean was so glad, so proud of himself too, for not giving up on you just yet. He could've grown tired of your coldness toward him, but he hadn't, perhaps your demeanour was what had kept him interested all this time. It had been a challenge, sure, but he knew that it was going to pay off sometime.
"You know, these kinds of bottles are called slam dunks. Reason's because they're hand-dipped, right? Sometimes the guys doing it dunk it too far into the wax." You ran your finger over the red wax on the body of the bottle. "People would pay a shitton of money for one of these."
Dean chuckled, the ring on his finger shined under the dim lights. "Does that make lucky?"
"I'd say so." You leaned over the table, thighs clenched tighter. "If you kept it sealed, you could make a pretty penny out of it."
"I'd rather drink it." His eyes never left yours. "Good company calls for good booze, d'ya agree?"
You felt cornered, the air that hung between you two was thick, you could barely breathe, barely see past your aching core and trembling legs. You needed him, you had to have Dean right in that moment, lust clouded your judgment and it made you crave what you couldn't have, what you knew was wrong to have.
"Gonna grab a glass of water, do you want one?"
Your chair scraped the floor, ruining the moment of tension. Dean nodded, you made your way back behind the counter with muffled steps, pondering about what you were even supposed to do now. It was clear that what had started as nothing was now becoming more important to you than you would've liked to admit.
A pair of broad, warm hands gripped your arms, running down them until they reached your hips. Dean's nose felt cold when he pressed it behind your ear, his lips brushed over your neck for a brief moment and you were unable to hold back the sigh of pleasure.
"Car's ready." His voice sounded deeper, richer. "In case you wanna pop by tomorrow." You held the counter with both hands, gripping onto it for dear life while Dean chuckled. It went right down to your lower belly, making it flame up. "What, cat got your tongue?"
"I'll come by tomorrow, then."
You pushed back, your back hit his chest and your ass bumped into his crotch. He tightened his grip on your hips, his thumbs were going to bruise your skin but you didn't care, you were already too deep into it to pull back now. You rocked back and forth slowly, you kept brushing against his now awakening erection while his breathing sped up.
"Son of a-" He spun you around, caging you between his body and the bar counter. "Such a little tease, aren't you sweetheart?"
"I'm not doing anything." Innocence wasn't your strongest value now.
Dean's nose bumped into yours, his eyes stared up at you while his hand moved to your neck and jaw. He held it, his fingers were calloused but you had never felt such a soft and gentle touch in your whole life. His lips were parted, the tip of his tongue poked out for a moment before his upper lip brushed over your bottom one, a sigh escaping from him.
"You're a real pain in the ass, you know?" He leaned closer, yet he didn't close the gap between you two. You were about to whine, to protest, but his hand tightened around your neck just a little, enough to make you suck in a breath. "Better."
Dean surged forward first. Looking at his lips had always been a rollercoaster: plump and shiny from whenever he ran his tongue over them, rosy from the harsh temperatures he wasn’t used to, welcoming because of how inviting they looked.
Feeling them was a different story. He tasted like whiskey, the faintest traces of beer could be found if you truly focused on it, warmth radiated from him, from his kiss and his hands all over you. They moved from your jaw and neck down to your arms, lower and lower until they fell to your ass, groping it tightly.
A noise of surprise left your lips, tightly pressed against him you felt secure, almost every doubt you had about this dissipated. Your breath picked up its pace, Dean’s thigh pressed firmly between yours as he dragged you closer to him, flushed against his body. You ran your fingers through his hair, you pulled on it tightly and Dean moaned.
The fucker moaned on your lips, deep and rumbling.
You broke away from him for a second, you left a chaste kiss on his lips, then another, just for good measure of course. His hands moved back to your hips, you ground down on his thigh and sighed in pleasure, forehead dropping down on his shoulder. From there, you could smell him even better, recognising the tobacco undertones of his perfume.
Dean worked quickly, skilled fingers pulled off your sweatshirt in a swift move, leaving you only in a long sleeved shirt and jeans. You would’ve been freezing if it wasn’t for his body all over you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your chest flush against his while you kissed him again, this time a little deeper and nastier.
“Table.” Dean grunted on your mouth. “Table, right now. I need to fucking… do something.”
Desperation had never looked so good on someone before. Your stomach dropped lower, your core tightened and your pussy fluttered around nothing, eager to finally have what you had been craving for so long. Dean was so eager, his lips kept dancing over your neck, suctioning on it while he pushed you back, back to your table; his hands never stopped touching your body.
Your touch on him seemed to send him wild, he was grunting, moaning, whining and cursing under his breath whenever your fingers ran over his neck, his torso, his forearms. You took off his shirt somewhere behind the counter, the t-shirt he was wearing soon followed next, it ended at your feet, kicked off somewhere you didn't care about.
Dean's skin was supple, it stretched tightly over his chest and abdomen, smooth all over except for his happy trail. How on Earth had you never noticed it? As you sat on the table, you traced the patch of hair down to the buckle of his belt, you worked it open without saying a word, eyes never leaving Dean's.
He kissed you - messy and sloppy - while you pulled his jeans down. Dean worked your shirt up, your stomach flexed at the cold air of the night, the table creaked and your shoes fell to the ground. Wet kisses made you shiver, Dean spent his sweet time mouthing at your neck and chest, his nose kept brushing behind your ear and on your shoulder, his touch lingered in all the right spots.
"Wish we were in a bed." Dean's voice was lower than ever, it reverberated through your whole body. "Table's a little limiting."
"Hey, we can always reschedule this."
"Come on now, don't be stupid." His grip on your hip tightened as you arched forward. "I ain't complaining."
He undid your bra, it toppled down between your two bodies while your nipples hardened. That caught his attention: hot lips wrapped around your left one, he sucked on it while his tongue swirled over the hardened nub, perking it up. You moaned and tugged on his hair, he hissed and sighed, his hot breath warmed up your skin. Your fingers gripped his shoulder, whining and whimpering as you desperately tried to have some friction between your legs.
"Pull on it." Dean released your nipple, he gave it another suck before pulling back slightly. "I can handle it." You looked down at him, perplexed yet too turned on to care how to understand what the hell he was talking about. "My hair, if you want."
You didn't have to be told twice. Your hands caressed his face, your knuckles brushed over his cheekbones and his eyes fluttered shut for a second, thick eyelashes grazing the skin. He sighed, quiet and calm, when your fingertips traced his cupid bow, the bridge of his nose, his temples and eyelids, before reaching his hair. It wasn't too long, but it was enough to firmly grip and hold onto for dear life.
You kissed him tenderly, languidly wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. He was growing harder by the minute, you could feel him swell up under your thigh and you had to touch him, you had to feel it through his boxer, feel how he was leaking because of you - and only you.
Dean felt burning hot, you could feel the heat even through your jeans and it was driving you insane, you wanted to feel him throb in your palm, you wanted to hear his plea for you to go faster, harder, to touch him more and tease him less.
"Lay down." His voice called you back to reality. "Let me taste you."
You ended up naked, panties still on and legs over Dean's shoulders. He kissed his way down your body, his eyes were closed and his teeth softly scraped over your shivering skin, your hands still in his hair. He dipped lower, lower and lower until he reached your pussy. By now, it was a wet and gushing mess, your panties were never going to recover from it. Dean stopped, his fingers traced over the wet patch on your cotton underwear and you whimpered, trusting your hips forward.
"Dean." His name had never felt so good coming from your lips. "Please."
He spread your legs further apart, his thumb circling your clit from above your panties, drawings sweet mewls and noises from you. His touch was slow, soft, it was barely a graze but it was more than enough to keep you on edge, body tense and on the cusps of losing every ounce of control you had.
He kissed your inner thigh, his lips traced down to your core and he stilled for one second too long. You fisted his hair, harshly, and you were gone, you were fucked once and for all, you should have known better than to give in.
"Fuck, sweetheart." He caressed your pussy through your panties, applying some pressure down on the fluttering opening. "And you had the guts to pretend not to be into me, huh? Look at this mess."
"Stop taunting me."
He stopped dead in his tracks, one of his arms sneaked around your legs to close them tightly, his fingers hooked under the sides of your underwear and he pulled it down, fast and messy. He left a peck on one of your knees before spreading you open once more, this time with a ferocity that made you shiver, nipples pebbled up.
You felt exposed, a little self-conscious too since Dean was still wearing his damn boxers, hiding him from you while you were on full display for him. He knelt down on the floor, his warm hands opened your legs back up and he smacked his lips open, bright eyes fixed right on you.
"Oh, God."
The first touch of his tongue felt unreal. He started from the top, right on your clit, a gentle circle right on the bud before wrapping his lips around it, giving it a soft suck while his fingers moved to your folds, spreading them open. He moved down at an excruciatingly slow pace, his tongue moved from left to right, up and down, as he mapped every inch of your pussy.
You fisted his hair, Dean looked up at you, face half hidden between your legs and green eyes clouded with lust and famine. He never stopped looking at you, he kept lapping you up, tongue moving and lips kissing all over your quivering pussy. He was eating you out like a starved man, you could tell he was enjoying himself by the hums and moans of appreciation that came from him.
Dean kept his hands on your thighs, his fingers were pressing deep into your flesh and he kept kneading it, using his grip to pull you even closer to him. You kept gushing all over his face, your legs trembled and your back arched when he latched onto your clit, focusing on it for what felt hours. Up and down, fast then slow and then faster, the tip of Dean's tongue never seemed to grow tired of licking on it.
"You taste so good." He pulled up for only one minute, lips obscenely red and glossy. "So wet already, didn't even have to do that much."
"Are you holding back on me?" You panted, brain clouded with pleasure.
"'m just taking my time, want to savour it." His thumb replaced the position his tongue had before. "You make such pretty noises, baby."
Dean quickly worked his fingers over you, your body jolted in pure ecstasy and you arched up as your legs tried to close. He kissed your abdomen, his necklace felt cold against your burning skin and you sighed, relaxing back down on the table. He cupped your pussy with his whole hand, his fingers slid into you with ease and you gasped, whining loudly.
"Fuck Dean... fuck."
On any other occasion, his stupid cocky smirk was infuriating, it only came out when Dean knew he was doing a great job, when he knew he had succeeded in riling you up just enough to fuck with your head. He had mastered that art, he was a pro at it. Now, though, that smug face of his was comforting and playful, it meant so much more than you could even put into words.
Dean knelt back down, his lips kissed your folds while his fingers scissored and plunged deeper and deeper into you, spreading you open even more. You moaned, the combination of him working inside you and his mouth on your clit was too much to handle. Your thighs clasped around his head like a vice, you kept him buried between them and he sighed in pleasure.
You were always going to be surprised by how much Dean was into eating you out.
"Come on, now." His fingers curled into you, they massaged and rubbed a spot that made you scream out his name, louder than ever before. "There we go, good girl."
Yeah, he was going to be the death of you.
Dean bowed back down, the devotion he put behind every swirl and twist of his tongue didn't go unnoticed, the look of plain hunger and greed was enough to turn a priest into a sinner. Your legs shook, pressure built up into your lower stomach and your core tightened, taut like a violin cord.
"Shit, shit, shit... fuck, Dean!"
You came all over his face, you didn't squirt but you did drench him anyway, the force of your orgasm sent your toes curling and your nails planted in Dean's scalp. You were trembling, your throat was itchy and you blurted out something that sounded both like a plea and a praise.
His fingers moved out of your pussy slowly, the hole fluttered around nothing and your legs went slack. Cloud nine had never felt so good before. Dean stayed there for a few more minutes, he ran his wet fingers up and down your thighs, his lips followed suit in a series of gentle kisses.
"Such a good girl, coming so pretty all over me. Wish you could've seen it too. You were so sweet, never tasted anything as sweet as you." Charmer, he had always been one but now it felt amplified. "Ain't done with you, sweetheart."
Dean's boxers were strained obscenely, his erection kept bouncing and throbbing under your gaze while he made his way up, hands caressing your feverish skin. You mewled - what you were trying to say, you didn't even know - and he hummed quietly, thumbs rubbing circles over the underside of your breasts.
"I want to touch you." You whispered. "Please, let me touch you."
"Didn't paint you for the begging type." He planted a firm kiss on your shoulder. "Kinda into it."
Your hands moved on their own accord, you squeezed his biceps, nails scraping down to his forearms until you reached his hands. There, you played with his fingers for a moment, running your middle ones over his open palms, your feather touch made him tremble and his breath sped up, cock planted between your legs.
"Let me reciprocate." You parted your thighs slowly, releasing him and depriving him of any friction he could have. "Please, Dean." Your hand wrapped around his clothed erection, holding it firmly without moving a muscle.
"Hold on, fuck. Wait, sweetheart." His Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "Fuck."
You let go of him for a moment, which sparked a grunt of annoyance from him and the impatience on his face became visible. Nimble fingers worked his boxers down, his chest flexed and tensed up when the cold air of the bar hit his bare cock, red and swollen and leaking all over.
Starting from the base, you worked your way up with your hand wrapped around his cock. Heavy, full and desperate in your palm, the tip was shiny with precome already and Dean was breathing like he had just run a marathon. The need to taste him was too much, too strong, yet the look in his eyes told you more than you had expected. He was close, so close, just by having eaten you out.
"I want you inside me." Dean's head dropped down on your shoulder, his face hidden in the crook of your neck while he panted. "Deep, deep into me."
You directed his cock right to your opening, you swept it up and down your folds to collect some wetness and stilled, letting go of him for only a minute.
"No." Dean whined, voice broken and rough.
"No what?" Your nose bumped into his scalp, you nudged his face away from your neck and stared at him. "What?"
"Don't- fuck- I don't know." His eyelids were almost fully dropped down, he was staring at you with a hazy smile on his lips. "Shit, let me do this."
Dean's hand swatted yours away fully, he gave himself a couple of strokes and he cursed under his breath, cheeks flushed red and hair a mess. He held onto your hip when he pushed in, the tip stretched you wide and it filled you up, right where you needed. Bottoming out took a little work, he slowly rocked his hips back and forth in you, thrusting deeper and deeper whenever he moved back toward you.
"God, Dean..." You breathed out, opening your legs more so that he could settle deeper between them. "Fuck!" You sounded like a mess already.
"So tight, sweetheart, gripping me like a goddamn vice." He stood still into you, gasping for air. "Tight and wet, you'd bring anyone down to their goddamn knees."
As Dean started to move inside you, you found your arms tightly wrapped around his neck, your lips looked for his and you found them right as he grunted your name. His voice was obscenely low and broken, it came out like a prayer when you finally kissed him, wet and deep.
Warm hands enveloped your face, he tilted it backwards just enough to kiss you more, turning what had started as something coherent into a messy clash of tongues and spit. You moaned out his name on his lips, your nails dug into his back and he arched, snapping his hips faster and harder into you.
"Taking me so well." He was erratic, no pace in his movement could be detected and he didn't seem to care. Neither did you. "Look at this, baby, look." He angled your face down, making you stare directly at where your two bodies connected. "You're dripping."
You nodded, a string of moans left your mouth and you went slack under him. Dean had started to kiss your neck slowly, his lips grazed your jaw, your jugular, the dip between your collarbones. He was all over you and you could feel him everywhere, sweat and all.
Dean grew more and more desperate by the minute, his hips snapped faster, harder, deeper into you and he didn't hold back his moans. You had never been with someone so vocal, so into you that every single touch of yours could send ripples of pleasure cascading down his back.
How you dug your nails into his flesh, dragging them down to his ass after a rather harsh thrust, how you suckled on his lobe while whimpering his name, how your toes curled in the air, how your nipples perked up when his necklace brushed over them; all of these combined were enough to make him lose his goddamn mind.
"Wait, wait." You mumbled, grip on his shoulder tight. "Wait."
"What? What's wrong?" Dean pulled back fully, leaving only the tip inside. "Want me to change something? You good?"
"Yeah... I'm fantastic." You were wheezing under him, forehead damp with sweat. "Just- need you deeper. I wanna ride you."
"How? We ain't got a bed." He languidly kissed your neck, teeth grazing over your pulse point. "Wanna ride me on the table, sweetheart?" He rocked back into you, filling you up to the brim.
"Chair, table, anything."
"So eager for me, aren't ya?" You nodded, eyes firmly focused on him and just him. "Ain't you a precious doll."
Where you found the strength to push him down, right onto the chair you were sitting on before, was unknown. You just did. You straddled his thigh and started moving your hips, you rubbed all over his flexed muscle and he seemed mesmerized by how fluid your movements were, by how your wetness trickled down his skin.
Your hands shot back into his hair, you fisted them and pulled on them tight, you exposed his neck and went to work. What started as soft pecks on his flushed skin soon became bites and scrapes of teeth. It was too supple to ignore, it smelled too much like him and it filled every sense you had.
Kissing him came next, Dean left his mouth open under yours and only barely moved his lips. At first. Once he seemed to gather where he actually was, what was actually going on, he kissed you back, biting and pulling on your lower lip as his cock throbbed and pulsed between your bodies.
"Don't you like this?" You murmured, bumping your noses together. "Can't you feel me?"
"Oh, I can feel you alright, sweetheart."
From your hips to your ass, his hands never stopped touching you. He kissed you when two of his fingers slipped back into you, you moaned and held him closer, the friction of his thigh on your clit and his thick fingers into you made you lose it. You didn't even feel it snap, you didn't even know you were close, yet the tension in your core clashed within you once more and you came all over his fingers and leg, drenching him in your release.
"Dean!" You moaned in his ear. "Get back inside me, now."
He chuckled yet complied. He manoeuvred you around, he lifted you up and nudged the tip of his cock back against your pussy, pushing it in without any resistance. You held onto his shoulders, eyes locked and foreheads pressed together, unable to resist the urge of feeling one another fully, at all times.
"Insatiable." He bucked his hips up, meeting your lazy circles with a force that sent you toppling forward. "Didn't I give you enough, baby?"
You kissed him to shut him up, his voice was enough to send you crazy if he addressed you with such devotion, hidden under a thick layer of cockiness. The kiss grew heated, you were hanging onto him as you rode him faster, one of his hands was clasped into your hair and the other was on your ass, gripping onto it with all his strength.
"I can feel you right here." Your finger traced over your own stomach, right above your belly button. "Shit, you're so warm 'n' big in me."
"You like that?"
Obscene, how he looked was obscene. His eyes were wild, blown out and dark, the green of them had been swallowed almost fully by his pupil, his cheeks were flushed pink and his lips, those sinful lips you could live on, were red and bitten raw. His chest kept rising and falling rapidly, he didn't seem able to catch it even if he was trying to slow down, to relax enough so that his muscles wouldn't be so tense. His cock was buried into your pussy, the wet and squelching noises that came from it seemed to be what troubled him the most.
"I fucking love it."
"Good god, baby." His fingers found your clit and you moaned in his ear. "Gonna make a man lose his goddamn self-control, y'know, sounding all pretty and shit."
He kissed you, your pussy spasmed and tightened around his cock, you wanted him to come, to chase his release and ruin you fully, once and for all. You had come twice already, him? Not even once. He didn't seem bothered by it, he was surely meeting your movements halfway, he was surely holding onto your hair and ass like his life depended on it, but he wasn't giving out any other signs of impatience and need.
"There we go, good girl."
You instinctively opened your legs more, allowing him to see your clit better. His fingers started to circle it and tease it, they pressed down on it and rolled it around, sending shocks of pleasure down your back. You picked up your pace, your hips moved fast and your breasts kept rubbing on Dean's chest, stimulating your nipples against his. That piqued his interest for sure.
"I'm- Dean..." You babbled, core taut and on the edge. "'m gonna come. I'm- fuck, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop."
"Ain't planning on it." He kissed your cheek, his nose buried deep in your hair. "Can feel every little twitch, darling." He brushed some strands out of your face, gutturally moaning when you clamped down on him and pulsed rhythmically around his aching cock. "Don't fucking do that."
"Why not? Don't you want to feel good?" You whispered, tongue poking out to suckle on his pulse point. "I want you to enjoy this, c'mon. Please? It isn't fair, Dean. I came, twice, I felt amazing under your mouth, baby. I want you to come, I don't care where, just paint me all pretty for you."
"Fucking Christ, you want that?" His voice lowered, his grip on you grew stronger and his teeth gritted out when you rotated your hips down. "Ride me."
You obliged. The pace grew faster and sloppier by the minute, you were a babbling and quivering mess above him, your clit was pulsing and it was starting to hurt slightly, whenever his fingers rubbed directly over the nub you moaned, a mix of pain and pleasure that washed over you like a jet of cold water.
"Fuck, just like this, come on."
"Yes, yes, yes, fuck, you're fucking me so good, baby."
A rather harsh thrust mixed with the right movement of Dean's fingers sent you over the edge once more. You clamped down on his cock, you stilled and trembled on him, your legs shook and your forehead dropped down to his shoulder, hiding in his neck as you quietly sobbed and whimpered his name.
His fingers didn't stop moving, his hips didn't stop snapping up, you scratched his scalp and hissed, you couldn't take it anymore, you were growing sorer and sorer by the minute. You whined when he stopped touching your clit, you kept your eyes closed and your face pressed firmly in the crook of his neck, lips latched onto his skin.
"Look at me." You meekly shook your head, gasping as he thrust harsher into you. "Look at me, doll."
You gingerly moved your head back and stared at him. You were sweaty, your hair was stuck to your face, your eyes were glossy with tears in a mix of soreness and pleasure from having Dean still inside you, still moving. You opened up your lips to say something, anything, but no sounds came out, you were too fucked out of it to even think.
"So pretty for me. Did I do this to you, baby?" Dean caressed your face, gently and soothingly. "Can you handle two more minutes, darling? Just two. You're taking me so good, honey," The fingers that were on your clit pressed past your open lips, resting on your tongue so that you could suck on them. "Good girl, just like this, good girl, fuck!"
With his eyes on yours, Dean came inside you.
Your belly felt hot, your whole body was on fire and you were unable to stay up. The moment Dean slid his fingers out your mouth, you toppled down on his chest and hugged him tightly, his cock throbbed and spurted deep into you, waves of shock ran through you and you held him closer, unable to pull away from him.
"Oh fuck..." You whispered, blinking rapidly.
"I got you, c'mere. I got you."
Dean slid out of you, his release gushed out onto the floor and on his legs, yet he didn't seem bothered by it, at all. He held you close after he made you sit across him - legs closed, his shirt and your panties back on to shield you from the cold of the night. He brushed your hair, kissed your forehead and lips while rubbing small circles on your back, hand under his flannel so that he could feel your skin.
You had never cuddled like this, you had never been with someone who softly kissed your eyelids and cheeks after wiping your face from the stray tears that had escaped before. Dean did. He rocked you, the fucker kissed your forehead and rocked you as he relaxed under you, naked as the day he was born.
"You okay, sweetheart?" You nodded, eyes closed. "Hey. I was thinking, maybe we could go out one of these nights."
"Out?"
"On a proper date, dinner and all that shit."
"Dinner and all that shit sounds nice, Winchester."
I am sorry to hear that you’re in the hospital love. 🥺 * hugs you and send you treats* hmmm I suppose, hmmm, could you do a small fluff thingy with Jake? It could be about him wanting to finally front to meet the reader?
Thank you darling, I’ve had a rough night but today, hopefully, the doctor will see me and tell me what’s wrong. I hate being in here alone but hey, adult problems right?
And yes omg, love the idea of Jake being all soft and excited to finally meet you.
Like maybe he has been hiding away because he was scared you weren’t going to like him, he’s rough and he knows he doesn’t do well with people. But say you’ve been dating the boys for a while, you know about Jake but you have never met him.
The man intrigues you but you are also aware of the fact that Marc and Steven don’t really share much about him, mostly because they don’t want to piss him off - they will let him come out of his shell on his own terms.
And he does.
One morning you wake up, bed empty yet still warm. You fuss a little, rolling around the sheets and rubbing your eyes with a loud yawn. The room is dimly lit but it’s enough for you to notice someone sitting by the bed on an armchair that Steven had hauled into the house from a flea market.
“Hey.” You croak quietly, yawning again. God, are you still tired.
“Querida…”
The voice, much lower than Marc’s or Steven’s, make your stomach clench. You sit up a little, resting your weight on your elbows.
“So beautiful.” A thick Spanish accent, that was new. “Encantado.”
He doesn’t touch you but his fingers twitch on his thighs.
“Jake?”
It makes sense, it does. He’s quiet, shy, his voice gruff and heavy soothes your brain and makes your inner monologue quiet.
He leans forward. “I was looking forward to this.” He speaks so quietly, he looks at you with adoration and a special kindness that you know will only grace his face when he’s with you. “You have to excuse me for not… meeting you sooner.”
It’a true. Jake has beaten himself up a lot over the fact that he has wasted so much time hiding in the back, only letting Steven and Marc in the front because of his insecurities.
Now, though, as you crawl out of bed and take one of his hands into yours, he feels so stupid for not doing this sooner.
Hi guys, I know this is pretty odd but I’m in the hospital rn and I’ll have to stay here for a whole damn day. Could you please send in requests about your favourite Pedro/Oscar boys?
It’d be nice to keep my mind off of this shitshow.
Smut and fluff welcomed. I can do angst but nothing heavy please.
Hello dear <3 how are you? I hope you're having a lovely day/night
Firstly I wanted to say that I loved Jake's nsfw alphabet, I thought it was 👌. I was wondering, could I request Steven's nsfw alphabet please? I would love to see what you think ❣️
Have a croissant my friend 🥐
thank you for the ✨cwoissant✨
So, let's get into this
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
He's caring and thorough when it comes to ensuring you are feeling alright. Cuddles, baths and water are a must, he tries his best to look after you before falling asleep; it can be pretty easy for him to get tired and sleepy after a good orgasm, but he tries his best.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
When it comes to his favourite part about you, it's probably your neck. He likes to hold on to it when he kisses you, loves to kiss it in the morning when you first wake up, eyes barely open and hands steadily petting his hair while his lips trail up and down your flushed neck. His favourite part of himself probably is his lips, he knows you love to kiss him and he knows you love to have him between your legs, worshipping you with his kisses and licks.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Steven cums inside, once you ditch condoms he only comes inside you. Not a fan of facials, at all, and even handjobs aren't that satisfying anymore. Why waste his seed when you're right there, eager to have him all to yourself, that's why he loves to come into you, claiming you as his.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Breeding kink. That man will go nuts at the idea of breeding you, of watching your belly swell with his child, of your chest grow plump and full. He loves to think about it, but he will never admit it to you.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He's not too experienced, he knows what to do and what makes you feel great, but he doesn't have much experience overall. He wasn't too outgoing as a kid, he didn't try to start anything with anyone until he was 24. A few girlfriends here and there, but nothing that lasted for too long. Then he met you, he let go and tried out everything he wanted.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary. Yes it's a bit common and not too spicy, but it's intimate and it allows him to touch you all over and stare into your eyes as he fucks you. He loves it, loves having your legs around his hips and your hands on his shoulders, on his back, scratching him in pleasure.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He's pretty humorous, he doesn't take himself too seriously in the sack. He likes to have fun with you and make you giggle, sex is supposed to be nice, and carefree, and it's supposed to make you both feel good about yourselves, to give and receive pleasure. A laugh or two only make the act look more natural.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Well, Steven would prefer it trimmed and groomed, but he knows that both Marc and Jake prefer it smooth and shaved. His ideal way of keeping his pubic hair is short, not too short though, he doesn't want it to poke you.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Steven is the definition of romanticism. He murmurs in your ear how much he loves you, his hands always touch you like you're a piece of art. He expresses his feelings to you all the time, he talks and talks and talks, he almost made you cry by whispering his love and adoration for you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Not a fan. He didn't do it often before you, now he never feels the need to stick a hand in his pants and go to town. He prefers to wait for you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Soft dom, obviously. Definitely into cuffs, restraints. A good punishment gets him going, especially spanking your butt. Loves watching it get red under his hand.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
He loves to fuck you in the backseat of his car, it's fun and it gets him going. The car rocking, the foggy windows, your muffled moans in his ear while you beg for him to let you cum.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
His biggest turn on is you in the morning, eyes still fighting sleep. You always snuggle closer to him, you put a hand on his chest and roll on top of him. Seeing you all relaxed and unaware of how stunning you look, well, it makes him hard as a rock.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Anything that involves blood is a no for him. Also if one of his punishments make you cry, he'll safeword and stop. He doesn't want to see you in a state of distress because of him.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He prefers to give, he's good with his mouth, he knows where to lick and where to kiss, suck. He uses his whole face to eat you out, sex isn't important to him, he could die a happy man just by eating you out for an hour.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Slow and sensual, always. He can go fast, he can be rough, but he prefers to set a slow and gentle pace.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He will have one if the opportunity comes around, but he prefers to take his time and not rush.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He does sometimes. The biggest risk he will take is fucking you at yours or his workplace, the idea of you being heard while you scream his name turns him on in an animalistic way.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He lasts a lot, he has a lot of self-control and he works hard to keep himself from coming too fast. He can go for three rounds before he starts to complain about back pains.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Biggest collection of vibrators. He finds them useful, they spice things up and they make you squirt like crazy when he's deep into your pussy.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Steven doesn't tease too much, he prefers to get right into it.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Steven is LOUD, he mostly moans or whimpers, he tries to talk sometimes. It doesn't work, he gets so lost in you and he can't really control himself that well.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He likes to suck on your nipples. Anything that involves your breasts makes him lose it, if he catches your chest after your shower, he will come up to you and cop a feel.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He's cut, big and THICK. My sweet boy is thick as hell, he always stretches you out and it makes your poor walls clench around his length, trying to get used to it. Doesn't matter how many times you fuck, it'll still stretch you out.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Pretty high. With the fact that he doesn't have a lot of experience, now that sex is on the table every day, he will never pass an opportunity to get in your knickers.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Depends. If he's worn out, if he has fucked you for hours, he will fall asleep as soon as he rolls on his back and you rest in his arms. If not, it'll take him an hour to fall asleep.
SUMMARY: When Tommy asks you to keep an eye on a sick Joel, you reluctantly say yes, painfully aware of the fact that it was going to be the most awkward dinner of your life.
WARNINGS: Spoilers from the game, age gap, mentions of grief and loss, emotionally constipated Joel, touch starved!Joel (yes, it's a warning), smut, dirty talk, praise kink (if you squint), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (do better than them)
WORD COUNT: 5.4k
PAIRING: Joel Miller x fem!Reader
AN: I'm trying to recover from the Sam and Henry episode
Wyoming wasn't welcoming during Winter. Snow covered everything, the temperatures were unforgiving and everything was frozen to death. People got restless easier and that only meant more problems and less work. Yet, when Tommy and Maria announced that two new people were going to live in the community, everyone accepted them with open arms and open hearts.
You met Ellie first. She was bubbly, full of life and a fighter. She had bumped into you one morning, eyed you from head to toe before asking you if you knew where she could find some hot water since her "not dad" needed a shower. She was witty, she didn't hold back. And she was also great with horses, which was good since you needed a hand in the stables.
You became friends quickly, she was a teenager and it reminded you that, back when the world wasn't collapsing, you were just like her. You were a teenager too when the apocalypse clashed down on your family, and now - twenty years later - you were alone in a state opposite to yours.
Ellie had been born into this mess, she had no idea of how the world worked before, she had never experienced life like you had. From what she told you, the first time she had seen and been in a car had been with Joel, the first time she had seen an aeroplane had been with Joel, the first time she had travelled outside her QZ had been with Joel.
Joel, Joel, Joel. She always talked about him and she always shared anecdotes about their adventures before arriving in Jackson.
After a month of them being there, you still had to meet the famous man.
"He's always with Tommy now." Ellie muttered as she petted Shimmer. "Or out of the house, I never see him."
"He's keeping us safe." You butted in.
"Yeah, but." She huffed loudly. "Whatever man, as long as he doesn't die."
Chit-chat was cut short. Tommy knocked on the doors of the stables and made his way in, Ellie kept brushing Shimmer's belly and you washed your hands. Your relationship with the younger Miller was great, truly, you and Maria had met before she ended up with Tommy, you stuck together and it was because of her that you had such a wonderful community around you.
Tommy helped with the horses, you thanked him and Ellie, subtly hinting at her that she had to go. She rolled her eyes, raised her hands and made her way out after stealing one last pet from Shimmer; she loved that horse more than you did.
"Are you busy tonight?" Tommy asks.
"No, don't think so." You wipe your hands on your jeans and cleared your throat. "Why?"
"Great, you're having dinner with Joel, he's sick. He can't patrol tonight and Ellie is with the other kids, they're having some kind of small party." Tommy had always been direct, yet there was something that didn't sound right in your mind. "Some company will do him good."
"I guess I could stop by." You whispered.
You knew where they lived, you had taken Ellie home a few times when it got too dark or too cold, you enjoyed her company and her stupid puns. Joel, however, was another story. You had never met him properly, you had seen him around town but you had never dared to speak to him. He intimidated you, he made your knees weak and you didn't like how it felt.
Tommy nodded, he patted a hand on your shoulder and disappeared from your sight.
Sick. That resonated through your head, you made your way out of the stables, leaving them open so that those on patrol could access them in case they needed supplies.
What had Tommy meant by sick? What had happened to him? Was it a cold? Was it something more?
Joel and Ellie's house had all of its lights off - not a good sign - but the closer you got, the closer you walked to their place, you spotted the porch light on, a feeble and faint light that barely illuminated what was under it. The sight stopped your steps. Joel was sitting in his chair, a thick brown jacket on as he strummed his guitar, hair slicked back and a mug resting by his feet.
You had never seen him so put together. He looked fresh out of the shower, his hair was shiny - did he put gel in it? - and it stayed back, even as Joel kept strumming his guitar, muttering under his breath words you couldn't hear. The brown jacket he had on seemed worn and used but it wasn't in a bad shape, it looked clean and soft; his jeans were clean, too.
He stopped playing, stopped humming when he spotted you. You felt guilty, you were intruding on his private time, Tommy be damned. You kept on walking, you didn't acknowledge him nor try to initiate any kind of conversation, what good could it do to you? He was a private person, he never talked to anyone yet everyone liked him, he had a few friends and he only seemed to care about Ellie.
All of that never stopped you from liking him, from feeling your chest constrict a little whenever you spotted him in town.
You felt like a teenager all over again, you knew it was dumb and it was wrong, who had time for relationships now? Surely not Joel. He didn't look like a relationship kind of man, you weren't a hook-up kind of woman, it wasn't designed to work. You weren't going to bend your needs just for him and he certainly wasn't going to jump into anything.
"Aren't you supposed to keep an eye on me?"
You had almost managed to walk past his house, you were almost done, almost out of his sight, but he had to talk. You had assumed he didn't want you around, especially since Tommy had organized everything behind his and your backs.
You stopped walking and turned around. Joel had his guitar by his side and he had stood up, the mug of coffee was in his hands and the door of his house was open; that was new. You stared at one another, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do now. You fidgeted with your fingers, Joel kept staring at you, quiet and with rosy cheeks due to the cold.
"I thought- I thought you wanted to be left alone." Shit, you swallowed hard and stared at him with wide eyes and parted lips. "You've never..." You were going to dig yourself a huge hole if you kept on talking. "Tommy said you've been sick, I didn't want to stress you out."
Joel grunted and stayed quiet for a few moments, he looked at you from head to toe, his gaze was almost too intense for you. You felt out of place, you didn't know what to say to him now, how could you ever have dinner with him? It'd be boring, he'd end up hating you and he'd see you as a plain, empty woman.
"He made me cook." Joel drawled out. "It's way too much for Ellie and me, it'd be a waste." With a hand on the door handle, he jutted his chin at his house. "Table's set, food's hot."
Was it an invitation?
You stalled, and the rim of your jacket sleeves was clutched between your fingers. Joel was still looking at you, still waiting for an answer with his door open and his guitar still by his side. He hadn't moved yet, he was basically waiting for an answer, for anything, from you.
He called your name. "Are you coming or not?"
"Yeah."
He knew your name?
Dinner was simple yet filling. Joel had cooked, you didn't know he was skilled in the kitchen but apparently, he knew how to put on a delicious dinner. You had a feeling he had taken care of someone for a long time, it could not have been Ellie since they had met only a year before, so you wondered who he had looked after for so long.
He had asked you twice if the amount of spice he had put in the food was too much or not enough; he filled your glass with water whenever it was empty and he had even managed to score some wine somewhere - you hadn't asked, you didn't want to pry. Joel didn't talk much, he didn't even look at you unless he was absolutely required to do so.
You didn't want to break the precarious sense of tranquillity around you.
You washed the dishes while Joel dried them, you politely chatted about Ellie, telling him how good she was being with the horses, how great she was and how helpful she was, as well. Joel hummed in approvement here and there, he didn't say a word when you asked him if he would be okay with Ellie officially helping you out at the stables.
"As long as she isn't alone." He muttered.
"I'll be there all the time, I just need another pair of hands and she's good with them." He didn't look at you. "I'll keep her safe." Joel breathed sharply, his eyes pinned you to your spot and you dropped the fork into the soapy water. "Not that she's in danger here."
"I know." He went back to drying, a sour smile on his face.
"Plus, all the other kids come to the stables often, they play and have fun all together. It'd do Ellie good."
"I guess."
"She can play soccer with the others and then come and help me out until dark." Joel nodded, he didn't offer you many other words. "Alright then."
You were ready to leave, you were done embarrassing yourself by trying to make conversation with someone that clearly didn't care about making friends, or at least be your friend. Joel wasn't a social person, he kept to himself and he didn't even care if you were there or not. Tommy had forced you to look after his brother, Joel had probably argued about it and now he was stuck with a stranger in his house.
"Have you seen Ellie today?"
The question took you by surprise. During the whole night, Joel had never spoken to you unless it was to answer one of your questions.
"I have, she came by this afternoon." His voice had sounded curious, worried almost. "Why, you didn't?"
"No, we had a fight." Joel seemed embarrassed by it. "I forgot how draining it was to fight with your kid."
Oh, now you understood. He had been someone's father before, and that was why he was caring and protective of Ellie even if she wasn't his daughter. Did he see his child in her? Did Ellie remind him of them somehow?
"She wanted to go out of Jackson, I said no. It escalated and she went out. Haven't seen her since this morning, but Tommy has. At least I know she's still in the community." That was the most Joel had talked during the night. "We didn't- we fought before getting here but lately it's been happening more often."
"She's settling down, she's finding her footing."
"She should watch her mouth sometimes." Joel grunted. "She's so much like... yeah."
"Like your kid?"
Joel stilled, the bowl in his hands was dripping with water into the sink and you bit your tongue. You shouldn't have mentioned it, you shouldn't have said anything to begin with, you didn't have to stick your nose into his business. You weren't friends, you didn't know him, you just had a stupid crush on him. That did not allow you to comment on his life and his experiences.
"She's so much like Sarah." His voice sounded gruff, harsh and choked up. "I just don't wanna fuck this up."
"I doubt you will."
You placed a hand on his shoulder, Joel's eyes settled on yours and his arm twitched. The silence grew thick and heavy over your heads, you were so close to him and you looked at him, truly looked at him. He had white patches all over his beard and hair, you had noticed them before but you had never seen how his beard was absent in some points, how his lips slightly jutted out and how scars littered his cheeks.
Joel stood up, back straight and shoulders square. The shirt he had on did wonders for his complexion, it illuminated his face and his mouth looked even plumper under the soft light in the kitchen. You didn't drop your hand from his shoulder, you didn't lower your gaze, you didn't avoid him as you did before.
"I'm not sick." Joel murmured, so close his breath struck your face. "I asked Tommy to do me a favour." You were barely able to understand what was going on around you. "Thanks for coming anyway."
He left the room, suddenly the warmth of his shirt was gone and you were alone, confused and with your brain running around. You followed him out to the living room, he was standing next to the window with his coffee in hand and his eyes glued to the road, waiting and hoping to see Ellie come back.
"Joel..." You murmured, gingerly approaching him. "What favour?"
A sigh. "He asked you out for me."
"So this was a date?"
"Yeah."
He turned around, his eyes were on you and they burned, they penetrated your skin and made you want to curl on yourself and disappear from the world. His eyes were intense, there was so much hidden behind them but you didn't want to pry, you didn't want to make him feel like he was a monkey doing a trick for you.
"How-" You licked your lower lip and cleared your throat. "How did you even know about my existence?"
"I look around myself." He shrugged. "You were the one who took care of my horse after we got back from- whatever. I know who you are."
"Do you?" It was a bold thing to ask, but you felt inclined to try. Your hand moved to his shoulder. "I don't think so, Joel."
"Do you know me?" He took a step closer to you, his hands were on your hips before you even had the time to realize what was happening. “There are things I’ve done-”
"Don’t care. I think I know who you are." Joel shivered and his grip on your sides tightened. "You're kind, you're caring and you protect Ellie, us too. I know you like coffee way too much for your own good." The more you spoke, the more Joel seemed to grow impatient. "I know you've been through so much, so much loss and pain, and it scarred you, it closed you off because you think it'll help you take the hit without too much damage." Your fingers skimmed up to the edge of his shirt collar. "Do you ever... even think about letting go, Joel? About feeling instead of thinking?"
You had seen men crumble during sex, but you had never seen one fall apart after a caress on his cheek. Joel's eyes slipped closed, he dragged you closer to his body and the dam broke loose. A growl, low and ragged, escaped from his lips as he kissed you hard and frantic. It was impetuous, needy and greedy, he tasted like coffee and there was a faint taste of sugar, too.
Joel had you pinned against a wall, his searching hands had pushed your top up and your breasts were exposed to his wandering eyes and mouth. His breath was hot on your neck, his scratchy shirt kept rubbing over your body and it was driving you insane, Joel had you under his spell.
He had to touch you, he had to hold you and feel your skin under his fingers. You moaned in his mouth, quiet and breathy.
"Fuck." Joel took a minute to observe your body, his thumbs swiping over your nipples slowly. "Look at you." His mouth latched onto your jawline. "Been thinking about you for a while, darling. Been thinking about how you'd sound, how you'd taste."
You whimpered when he sucked a hickey on your neck, his beard softly rubbed on your supple skin and you wrapped your hands around his neck. The bedroom seemed so far and you didn't want to let go of him, you didn't want to stop kissing him, but you also wanted to have him inside of you.
Joel's fingers dug into your hips and you whined on his lips, you clutched his shoulders and pushed one of your thighs between his legs. He was aroused, his hard-on was starting to press on your leg and you shuddered, already thinking about how you wanted to drop down to your knees and take him in your mouth.
His lips brushed over the juncture of your ear and jaw, it made you shiver and clung onto him when he finally decided to start pushing you toward the couch and coffee table.
"You and these tank tops." Joel grumbled over your lips, finally removing the piece of clothing from your body. "Always wearing 'em with no bra when it's cold." His fingers hooked your belt loops, tugging down your jeans just a little. "Acting clueless, not noticing me trying to get your attention." There was desperation in his voice laced with lust, it rung through your body and shook you to your core. "Been so-"
"I know."
His lips clashed on yours as you opened his shirt, your hands skimmed over his broad chest, you felt scars and dips, you traced over them with your lips firmly attached to his neck, sucking and kissing and licking over his sensitive skin. He was so responding, so eager to be touched and ravished that he went slack between your legs as you undressed him.
Joel whined, high-pitched and needy, when you ran your fingers down his chest, following his happy trail down to the waist of his jeans. You followed your fingers with your mouth, Joel's breath was ragged and heavy, you could feel his stomach twitch under your touch and you got bold, so into it that you hadn't even noticed the harsh grip Joel kept on your hair.
Once you reached your most desired spot, Joel tugged you away and brought you back to his face. He kissed you, his skin was hot under your fingertips and you grew wetter when he moaned in your mouth, his kiss sloppy when his fingers tried to take off your underwear. He struggled for a moment, a huff and a grunt hit your cheek and you wrapped your arms around his neck, propping you up.
"You're fucking soaked." Joel mused when he spread you open on the coffee table. "Look at this." He swiped his fingers over the wet patch on your panties. "All for me, angel?"
"Happens all the time when you're around."
The whine mixed with a moan Joel let out, it made you shiver and tremble while you stared up at him, legs open and thighs shaking under his intense gaze. Joel's face seemed almost animalistic, the way he looked at you with his mouth open and pink cheeks. You watched as he lowered his head down to your thighs, he breathed you in and dug his nails into your inner thighs.
His tongue swiped over your slit from above your panties, he softly suckled on your thigh before pushing your panties to the side. The noise he let out was obscene, it made your stomach tremble and your legs twitch. The first lick he landed on your pussy made you grip the edge of the table and arch your back, head thrown back as you slowly pulled your legs closer to your body, resting your pointed toes on his shoulders.
Starved, parched, Joel ate you out without holding back. He pushed his tongue deep into your pussy, he drunk your wetness with eager sounds and eager licks. He pulled back for a moment, your core quivered at the hunger in his eyes. A kiss, a suck and a swift circle movement of his tongue between your swollen lips, pushing them apart and exposing you to him.
“So beautiful.” He rasped. “So beautiful, so soft.” His big, calloused hands spread your legs more while his eyes roamed and studied your dripping hole. “So mine.”
His skin felt almost feverish under your hand when you pushed a few strands of hair back, holding onto them for dear life. He dived in, his grip on your legs was bruising, he was holding you close and his nose brushed over your aching clit.
Those words made you whimper, you arched your back and you felt his tongue curl around your pussy lips, spreading them open even more so that he could run his tongue right between them, dipping down to your hole. The first push inside your walls made you whine and cry out in pleasure, your calves wrapped around the back of his head.
"Fuck, Joel." You whined. "You're doing so good, baby, so good. You feel like heaven, shit."
The pressure in your stomach was about to snap. Joel wasn't letting you go that easy, a hand pressed on your lower stomach was pinning you down and feeling you quiver at the same time. He only had your pleasure in mind, he only wanted you to feel good and satisfied. But so did you.
The hand in his hair slid to the back of his neck and Joel moaned, his movements stilled for a second and he scooted closer. He was devouring you, his tongue slipped deeper, faster, harder and your thighs started to shake. Joel pushed back against your touch, he couldn't get enough of your hands on him.
"Oh my god, oh shit, Joel!"
Your lower belly started to contract and spasm, your walls tightened around Joel's tongue and you came. It came rushing out of you and right onto his face, you drenched him in your release and Joel seemed to drink it all in, savouring it with his eyes closed while he leisurely lapped up your wet lips and throbbing clit.
"Fuck, oh fuck me." You were out of breath, your whole body was on fire. "Come here."
Joel smiled.
He smiled for the first time, you had never seen him look happy or relaxed. Now he was both, his eyes were glossy and his beard was shiny due to your orgasm, his hands were roaming all over your body and his lips soon followed, peppering your skin in open-mouthed kisses that left you aching for more.
When he reached your mouth, you wrapped your arms around his neck and clashed your lips together. He brought you closer to him, he made you sit up and he stumbled around until he hit the couch with his back, dragging you with him. He couldn't get enough of you, the grip on your hips felt tight, he was nipping and sucking on your lower lip like a madman, hips grinding into you fast and hard.
"Hey." You placed both of your hands on his cheeks, holding his face. "Slow." You stilled above him, not meeting his thrusts.
"No, no, no." He sounded frantic, lost. "I need you."
"I'm not going anywhere." You softly pecked his lips. "Look at me."
He was painfully hard under you, yet his hips stilled and he panted under you, trying to keep his composure for as long as he could. His eyes met yours, the hectic look on his face dissipated and you leaned back just a little, just enough so that he could fully look at you.
"Good, look at me, baby." One of your hands dropped down to his chest, resting above his heart. "It's alright, Joel. I'm not going to disappear." His breath slowed down a little. "You made me come so hard, it's been so long since I felt like that."
The moment of tranquillity lasted until you took off his jeans and boxers. You admired his cock, your fingertips traced the veins on the sides, moving up to the tip and softly grazing it, making Joel groan and throb under you. When you wrapped your hand around his thick length, all control got lost.
Joel was frantic once again, he moaned in your ear and suckled on your ear lobd. You didn't object, you let him push you on the couch and spread you open under him. He knelt between your open legs, his touches were stronger and harsher than before, the way he pushed two fingers into your pussy made you grip his shoulder and groan, shaking your head a little.
He kept kissing you, kept rutting into your hand, kept fingering you until you tugged on his hair, detaching him from your tender nipple.
"Joel. Slower." You were assertive, strong, your voice left no room for him to argue. "Follow my lead."
You were both sitting up again, you slowly straddled him, raised one of his hands up to your breasts and pushed your chest forward, letting him toy with your nipples. He was gentler than before, still in a hurry but his touch was welcoming and soft, caring. You held his weeping cock again, testing it out, you wanted to see how he would react to the smallest touch you could give him.
"Like this." You murmured into his ear. "Feels so much better, doesn't it?"
"I- you just feel so-"
"Real?"
"Yeah."
"Let us enjoy this, let it last." You guided his cock to your pussy, rotating your hips a little. "Next time, you can ravish me, have me how you want, where you want." He seemed surprised by what you said, eyes wide and lips open. "How could I deprive myself of this?"
You inched closer to his mouth, your breaths mixed together and you kissed him. Your tongue poked his bottom lip when the tip of his cock caught on the edge of your slit, pushing in slowly inside you. Joel's hips stuttered, your nipples stiffened and his head rested on your chest, right under your chin.
"You feel so good." Gruff, spent, he kissed you on the shoulder. "So tight."
Joel was trembling under you. The man you had always seen as stoic and cold, detached from everyone, was now a shivering mess under your touch and mouth. He was still fighting for control, he was still quietly urging you to go faster, to ride him with a rougher pace. You didn't, you didn't cave in even if your pussy kept on fluttering around him.
"Tight enough?" You gave your cock a teasing squeeze with your walls. "Fast enough?" You whispered over his lips, picking up your pace just a little, just enough to give him a taste of what he wanted.
Joel moaned, he brought one of your nipples up to his mouth while his other hand held and kneaded your ass. He was a mess already, you could feel him twitch inside you, pant and whine, his lower stomach quivered and his hands gripped both of your buttocks tightly. You figured out, right when he looked up at you, that the more you talked, the more Joel got wound up and on the brink of losing his last ounce of control.
"Shit, baby, you feel so big inside me." The words spilt out of your lips. "You're so deep, so thick."
"You keep talking like this and I won't be able to stop." His cheeks heated up. "Fuck!"
You had tried to control yourself, you had tried to keep everything slow and collected, you had wanted to make it last so that you could remember everything. Now, after hearing Joel's moans and grunts, your hips started moving and rotating on their own, chasing friction and release.
You started bouncing on him and Joel went wild. The deep-rooted hunger came back at full speed, his grip got tight again, making sure to pin you in place above him so that he could thrust up inside you. He was relentless, every movement he made hit your sweet spot over and over again.
"Keep t-talking like what?" You inquired, trying to keep up with him. "You don't wanna hear me tell you how good you are fucking me? How insane this is? I feel like I'm burning up, Joel. You're so thick, I can feel you pulse into my pussy." You murmured in his ear, choking up on your own spit when he sunk his teeth into your neck. "Shit, I've never been so wet before."
"You're dripping." He grunted, thumbs grazing your ribcage.
"I've been wanting you since you arrived here, baby. I kept thinking of you at night, I would touch myself thinking about you. Fingering my little slit until I couldn't take it anymore. I thought about you doing that, thought about your cock." Joel's thrusts stuttered and he moaned, low and gruff. "Dreamt about sucking you off, your heavy cock on my lips and your hand in my hair. I love your hands, they're so strong, so big... two fingers of yours split me open."
"Fuck!" He pressed a hand over your lips. "Stop."
You held his eye contact and rotated your hips, you rose up slightly, dropping back down and impaling yourself on his length. The new angle made him reach a depth you didn't even know you had; you moaned under his palm, head rolled back and nippled perked up. His palm slipped from your mouth, two of his fingers remained on your lips. It would have been a shame if you didn't open your mouth and take them in, suckling on them eagerly.
Joel didn't even protest. His thighs shook and his pelvis snapped up, he came with a muffled moan and your name escaped his lips, drenching you in a form of pleasure you had never felt before. He spilt inside you, his release coated your contracting walls, causing you to topple over him and lazily ride him until he finished trembling under you.
"Fucking hell, darling." His voice was breathless, his lower stomach was still quivering. "You're going to be the death of me."
You ground down onto him more, you quickly worked on your clit, his fingers disappeared from your mouth and you looked up, kissing him once your orgasm finally washed over you. You rose up, his cock slipped out of you and his come soon followed, staining his crotch and yours; it warmed your skin, a gentle reminder of what had just happened.
It took you both a few minutes to wind down from it all, you kept your arms around his neck, lips firmly pressed on his cheek while Joel kept petting your back and hair, smoothing it back with his fingers, raking them through the strands that had fallen in front of your face. Those gentle touches never stopped to surprise you.
You tried to get off of his lap, but Joel wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back into his chest.
"No."
"I'm not moving." You murmured, making yourself comfortable between his arms. "You'll get tired of my ass, Miller."
"I don't think so." He cleared his throat and nipped at your jawline. "Give me half an hour and I'll prove it to you."
You snickered. "Insatiable."
"It happens when you sleep with someone you've been after for weeks. I'm not ashamed of it."
You kissed him on the lips. "Makes two of us."
Joel relaxed under your caressess, he laid you down against his back and brought the thin blanket he kept on the couch over the two of you. Perhaps you could have suggested going to bed, perhaps you could have broken that idillic moment with a soft reminder that Ellie might come back during the night, but you didn't.
You stayed quiet and let Joel cuddle into you, the arm you had around his chest kept stroking his sternum, he hummed in pleasure and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. A cuddler, a big one too, you would have never assumed Joel could let his guard down like that, you would have never imagined to hold his soft stomach under your palm, to have him sleepily mumble your name, eyes droopy and a peaceful smile on his lips.
Soon, you realised sleeping next to Joel was a privilege, it was an act of trust. You learnt to cherish it immediately.
SUMMARY: You've heard stories about the Mandalorian and his "pet" from Peli Motto, she liked to praise him behind closed doors and, instead of growing fond of the guy like she expected, you were pretty sure you had never hated someone as much as you hated him.
WARNINGS: contains spoiler from the book of boba fett, enemies to lovers, implied age gap (legal), smut, angry sex (?), light dom/sub dynamic, helmet comes off, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, begging, mild degradation (?), unprotected vaginal sex, bit of choking, cum eating.
PAIRING: Din Djaring x fem!Reader
WORD COUNT: 6k
NOTE: Okay, in my defence... I don't know. I'm just going through a feral phase for this man. This is basically just smut. I don't have to add anything else, this is basically my cry for help, my crush on Pedro and his characters was under control for so long and then it just blew up. Enjoy!
You had met Peli Motto when you were only a teenager, times were rough and you needed someone who could help you, give you a job and maybe a place, too. The mechanic had been kind enough to take you under her wing, she wasn’t a fan of being helped by other humans, she preferred droids.
Who could blame her.
You got a job, got a house and a few friends. You even got to witness Peli dating a damn jawa and the aftermath of it; it had been an hilarious thing right from the beginning. However, you also had to deal with costumers, running a repair shop was isolating at times, but at others it was also the most social job you had ever had.
You liked the regulars, all of them were nice enough to mind their business, let you work in peace and keep their noses out of your tools.
Everyone did that expect one guy, Din Djarin, Mando for Peli.
The Mandalorian liked to watch you work on his ship, he almost felt entitled to comment on how you used to repair that monstrosity he had as a vehicle, his Razor Crest was barely able to fly, let alone undergo all the repairs it needed.
You were happy when you saw that he had stopped showing up as much as before. You missed his pet, a weird little creature that - against your judgment - had stolen your heart. Grogu was kind, he was like a baby and you had grown fond of him after all your babysitting duties while Din went off somewhere.
You had never managed to like the bounty hunter, even if everyone talked highly of him, you were weary of his persona. He barely talked, he kept on nagging you about your job, butting in at any given moment, he was never kind except with Grogu.
What was there to like in someone like him?
Mandalorians were tricky, you had learnt about them from a group of guys that had taken you in before Peli Motto, but you thought they were almost extinct. They weren’t. Before Din, you had briefly met Bo Katan, a nice lady in your opinion, even if you only exchanged a short conversation in a bar.
Bo Katan took off her helmet, Din Djarin didn’t.
You heard rumours, whispers, about why, about the fact that he had sworn to the Creed, about the fact that he had gotten badly injured and that was why he kept his face hidden. You also heard a few regulars at your bar ridicule him, they all assumed that only Grogu had seen his face.
Either way, you didn’t really care.
The moment you saw that damn N-1 Starfighter plunge down from the sky, you knew that shit had gone down. You had heard Peli Motto talk about a fight in Mos Espa, she had come back unharmed but she hadn’t mentioned anything about Din or Grogu.
You had been there to build his ship, the new ship he had his ass on, and he had still yet to thank you for finding the seats he preferred. He had bitched and complained about the size of the ship, saying that he couldn’t do his job using that, he couldn’t live in it either.
You didn’t sympathise with him, nor cared to respond.
Din landed in the hangar, you spotted Grogu in his little seat up top and you waved at the child, who cooed back at you, arms raised. It amazed you how such a gentle and kind creature could spend time with a scumbag like Din.
“The hell happened now?” You grumbled, approaching the ship with a corked eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Not my fault.” Din croaked from his seat. “Ship’s fine, the seating is giving me trouble.”
You were going to strangle him, you were going to murder him and then make it pass as an accident. It could be easily done, you only had to make sure to hide the body as best as you could, maybe you could rely on a droid to do that. You didn't want to respond to him, so you chose to ignore him.
"It makes me seat weird, my back hurts and I can't even keep an eye on the child." He massaged his neck and grunted, he got out of his ship swiftly, so much for claiming that his back was giving him trouble. "Here we go."
Din picked up Grogu from his seat, he cuddled him and brushed his short and spiky hair back, bouncing him slightly. The little child cooed and gurgled, he looked at you and raised his arms up, his feet kicking slightly in protest. Din pushed Grogu into your hands, the kid settled into your embrace and sleepily stared up at the Mandalorian, cooing and yawning.
You carried him inside, Din stood in front of you with his cape flowing behind him. He greeted Peli Motto quietly, asking her if he could rest in the hangar for a few days, he needed to get back in shape if he wanted to keep on doing his job. How, though, was still a mystery to him. His new ship wasn't exactly a bounty hunter's dream.
As he laid to rest, Grogu in his own cot, Din took off his helmet and armour, it was starting to feel heavy on his body and his helmet tended to come off more often than not. What did he have to lose, anyway? He wasn’t a Mandalorian anymore, yet he couldn’t let go of the beskar that adorned his body. It was his pride, before the kid at least.
A clank and a curse, tiptoeing of feet and a loud sigh made his ears perch up. Din recognised your voice, your footsteps echoed away from the corridor and your breathing soon became a distant memory in his sleepy brain.
Why you hated him so much, was a mystery. You treated him as a nuisance, you didn’t look at him with fear or happiness, you were annoyed by his presence. In return, Din acted the same. He gave you a cold shoulder, he was harsher than usual, curt and straight to the point.
Nagging, arguing and pointing out your mistakes became his favourite pass time. Riling you up, watching your cheeks heat up and the tip of your ears become red, it all made his lower stomach curl in pleasure and satisfaction. He wasn’t attracted to you, he couldn’t, he only bothered you because of who you were.
He didn’t have a second meaning behind it, he didn’t think about taming your temper by pulling on your hair and making you face how rude you had been to him; he never had a thought like that. He never dreamed about fucking that snarl out of your system.
On your end of the stick, Din Djarin was what you despised the most in the whole galaxy. When you met him first, you had been greeted by a smug and pompous voice. That rubbed you the wrong way, he was a bounty hunter, he was someone who hunted living beings for money.
He was the worst.
He had no reason to look down on you, Mandalorian or not.
“You’ll wake up the child.”
Din's voice startled you, he had to stop sneaking up on people like that.
“What do you want?” You sighed, you were too tired to argue and too on edge to put up a fight.
“I heard noises, I thought someone broke in here.” The helmet always accentuated how gruff and annoyed his tone was. “What are you doing?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
He grunted. “You decided to not let me sleep either?”
It made your blood boil, how dare he talk to you as if you were a thing? How dare he come closer and puff out his chest? Menacing was the last thing he was to you, he was a thorn in your side, a headache you couldn’t get rid of. He had crawled under your skin, he had taken residence there and he wasn’t budging.
You knew he was going to say something else, for someone who was known as a quiet person, he sure had a lot to tell you when it came to critiquing, belittling and overall humiliating you. He never voiced his hatred toward you in front of Peli, he waited until you were alone. Always.
He spoke, he complained about something, perhaps about the noise you had caused, you didn’t know, you weren’t listening. Blood rushed to your ears, it made them ring and your fist clutched the side of your pants. You swallowed.
“I don’t wanna hear it, to be honest I don’t even care.”
That made Din shut up.
“I’m working on your shit, after you decided you wanted these stupid seats. I’m changing them because all I do is help. So you can complain about me for as long as you want, I don’t fucking care about what you have to say.” Calm, quiet, collected, that’s how you usually were when you were angry. “Honestly, I don’t care about you.”
“If you don’t, why are you awake?” He stepped closer.
“Because you’re paying me to do so. The sooner I get it done, the sooner you leave. Shit, can’t wait for that to happen, I want you gone. I want you out of my space.” You stared at the T on his helmet. “You pollute everything you touch, you’re corrupting and- and mean. You’re mean. Only to me. But you are.”
“You’re the mean one.”
Very mature, but still. It stung, it struck a wire you had managed to keep under control for as long as you had known him. It hit you like a ton of bricks, the weight of your suppressed anger and resentment came crashing down on you.
You shoved Din away, the beskar was cold under your palms and you hated the shiver it caused you. You hated him, hated his presence next to you and you wanted to obliterate him. You had endured far too much from him, you had kept your thoughts to yourself and you had managed to be a civil person. That time was over. You were over him, over his act and how he presented himself to you.
"I regret the day I met you, I wish I could turn back time and- shit! I don't know. You make a part of me come out that I didn't even know existed, you make me want to punch you in the face, take off your damned helmet and slap you." He didn't reply. "You're a mean-spirited person, Din Djarin, the only person you care about is Grogu. You treat me like a subordinate, like someone who has to do everything you say, whenever you say it." Another step, another push. "I'm not your toy, I'm not your bitch."
As you tried to shove him away again, his gloved hand gripped both of your wrists, tight enough to cause them to be sore. You stared at him, his mask kept his expression hidden but you felt the air snap around you, the anger in your body pooled at the bottom of your stomach and it sunk deeper until it reached your lower belly, making it grow warm.
"Enough." His voice was far too calm for your liking. "Enough."
You could feel his eyes on you from behind his visor. You noticed at that moment that he was holding both of your wrists with just one hand, his grip solid and robust. Did he use that with his targets, when he caught them?
Swiftly, his free hand reached his face, a faint hiss filled your ears and you watched in horror as he took off his helmet, letting it clatter to the ground. You were met with brown eyes, deep and richer than you could ever imagine, a face that made your belly contort and constrict. Smug, proud, that's how his smile was as he stared at you. You should have expected it.
Yet, you stared at him with wide and lost eyes, why was his helmet off? He was a Mandalorian, he couldn't take off his helmet. You were lost, silent.
"Do it, then." Din's voice was deep on its own, less metallic and scratchy, but still deep and sticky. "You said you wanted to slap me. Do it."
He let go of your wrists, but you didn't move them. You were stuck looking at his face, at all his wrinkles and little moles. He was older than you, perhaps by twenty years or so, maybe less; you didn't care. His lips were rosy, his beard seemed soft yet ungroomed, you wondered how it would feel under your palm.
You could slap him like you had always wanted, he wasn't going to put up a fight, he wasn't going to stop you. His eyes held yours, fierce and confident in his decision.
"See? You can't do it." His breath fanned over your face. "You like to talk, you want to appear big and buff, you wanted to scare me." The more he talked, the more you found yourself walking backwards. "You treat me like shit, I'm giving you the opportunity to hit me so you can state your point. You won't do it. Do you know why?" His steps echoed in the corridor as he cornered you against the wall. "Because you. Are. Just. A. Little. Bitch."
Each word got punctured by his steps, your back hit the corner and you stared at him. You raised his hand to slap him, he had crossed a line and you knew you had to put him in his place. He didn't flinch, he didn't try to stop you, you stopped yourself before colliding with his cheek.
Your fingers curled slightly, your knuckles softly rested on his cheek and he leaned into it. He tilted his head to the side and looked at you.
"I'm not a little bitch." You faintly protested.
Din hummed, his eyes moved up and down your face. His hand finally wrapped around your raised one. "Were you going to hit me?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you?" You stuttered for an answer. "I'm asking you a question."
"I don't know!"
"Don't raise your voice at me." His grip tightened up. "I'm not going to stand for that any longer."
Your palm relaxed, you fully placed your hand on his cheek and Din quietly sighed, his gloved thumb stroked the heel of your palm and you caved under him. You soon recognized that what had made your core tighten hadn't been anger, it had been lust and need, longing. All the thoughts you had tried to shove away, all the images you had fabricated in your head, it surrounded you in a blink of an eye.
"What are you gonna do about it, asshole?" He was so close, so close. "I think your words don't matter one bit."
Din's free hand ended on your neck, he gripped your jaw and tilted your head up, making you stare at him. He kissed you, famished and angry, it matched your neediness and desperation perfectly. You held onto his arms as he pinned you against the wall, his fingers dug into your jaw and you surged up, moaning on his lips.
"You... fuck."
His breathy voice filled your whole body, it made you shiver and crumble into his arms. You had denied yourself pleasure for so long, you had denied your want for way too many days, weeks, months. You admitted to yourself, right as he was kissing you harsher than before, that you wanted him.
"My room." You managed to whimper on his lips, hands clutching his shoulders tight. "Please, Din."
"You sound so much better when you beg."
Wetness pooled in your underwear and you caved in.
You took off his armour with reverence, each piece got placed on your table, each piece you took off granted you praise and a kiss on the lips. His gloves, once removed, revealed calloused hands and long, thick fingers which promptly grabbed your face again. Din didn't have to say a word to make you understand: eyes on him, always.
Legs open and trousers tossed away, you breathed heavily. Din kissed you, he liked kissing you, perhaps way too much. It had been a long time since he had kissed someone with the lights on, he missed it more than he wanted to admit. He had been a shy lover at first, cautious and calculated, but as he grew older, he started to get in tune with his emotions, with what made him feel good and at ease.
"I'm gonna make you cum with my mouth first, see if that shuts you up." Din whispered in your ear. "Then I'll use my fingers. Then both. And maybe I'll fuck you. Maybe. Only if I'm pleased with your behaviour. Understood?" You nodded. "You can beg, shit, do that. It's music to my ears. You can beg me to cum, you can beg me to stop and give it to you, but I won't. We're doing this on my terms."
Bossy, smug, cocky, how he talked to you made your thighs shake. You whimpered, your panties were suddenly too much, it was too much, him over you, holding your head in place with a hand as he looked at you was too much. His eyes were ravenous, they mapped out your body with ease and satisfaction, clearly pleased with what was in front of him.
You squirmed, his hands gripped your hips and he kissed you, rough and deep, his tongue felt scorching hot on yours, making you moan and arch until your exposed breasts brushed over his shirt. He was overdressed, there was too much fabric between you two but you were glad the armour was out of the way. You could feel his body heat, you could feel his throbbing cock rest on your thigh as you shifted, looking for some friction between your legs.
"No." He gripped your jaw again, making you still. "No, you don't get that."
"Please."
"You don't think you deserve that, do you?" It took your breath away. "With how you've been acting toward me, you don't get to do anything unless I say so. You've been a bitch, a fucking cunt, so I'll treat you like one." Those words weren't supposed to turn you on, yet they did, they ignited you. "Is that what you want?" You shook your head. "Speak, don't play dumb, it doesn't look good on you."
"I- I don't want that." You whispered, you wanted to kiss him.
"Good girl, it wasn't so difficult, was it?"
The praise made your thighs snap shut, or at least you tried to. You pawed at his chest, your breathing was faster and shorter than when you pleasured yourself, you needed him. Din seemed to understand, he hooked two of his fingers into your panties and pulled them off, you shivered and tried to shield your pussy from being looked at, suddenly nervous.
He tsked, he shook his head quietly and opened your legs more. Din shuffled down on the cot, your knees went up almost to your chin and his hands made sure to keep a firm grip on your ankles. You dared to raise your head a little, Din was staring, fully and unashamedly. Head cocked to the side, tip of his tongue barely poking from between his lips, he took his time watching and memorizing your folds, your lips, your slit, your clit, the colour and desperation your pussy showed already, clenching around nothing.
Din got off the cot, he knelt on the ground and pulled you closer to the edge, closer to his face. Your knees were on his shoulders and your feet interlocked on his back.
"Hurry up."
His eyes shot up. Shit. You fucked up, big time. Din didn't say a word, he limited himself to a toe-curling smile before his lips connected with your clit. How he found it so fast, it was a mystery to you. Yet, didn't waste a moment, he started to roll it around with his tongue, sucking on it softly and making it swell up and ache.
The sounds he made, the vigour he put in swiping his tongue between your lips, dipping it down until he reached your hole, it was calculated, it was methodical. Your legs were already shaking when he decided to push his tongue deeper, you cried out and fisted his hair, grinding against his face. He didn't object, he didn't tell you to stop, he limited himself to look at you and let go of your thighs.
You tentatively started to move, his nose was perfect to stimulate your clit and his tongue curled in all the right places, making you moan louder and louder. He didn't stop when your voice broke, he didn't stop when you sat up and clenched around his tongue, he didn't stop when your thighs clamped shut around his head and pulled him closer.
"Shit, shit, shit, Din. I'm gonna cum, shit."
He moaned on your pussy, he had enough room to make his way back up and give your throbbing clit a rough suck and a flick of his tongue. That did it.
You came on his face, you hadn't squirted but you were pretty sure you had gushed all over his lips and beard. "Fuck." You laughed quietly, collapsing back down on the bed. Your chest rose and fell, your breath was still fast and deep and it took you a second to realise that Din wasn't only helping you ride out your orgasm, he was still going. "Oh fuck!"
Your shaking and crying above him, combined with his need to put you in your place, had inspired Din to find out for how long he could make you cum without fucking you. It was going to be tough for him, he found pleasure in giving it, his cock was hard as a rock and it was pulsing in his briefs and pants. He held the base with a hand, stilling and catching his breath.
"What's wrong?" He asked with a smile. "You don't like this?"
A finger pushed into your pussy, your breath itched in your throat. It felt big, long and thick, inside you, Din took it out as fast as he had pushed it in before easing his digit back inside, this time with a roughness that made you cry out his name again. One soon became two and you had to grip the sheets, his mouth latched on your clit and lips while he curled his fingers inside you, hitting a spot that made your vision go white.
You wanted to say something, you wanted to let him know that you were going to come again but you couldn't, your legs shook around him and your heels dug into his shoulder blades. You wanted to tell him to stop, the tightness in your belly felt like too much, it was driving you nuts to be so open and so full.
Din kept a fast pace, his tongue skimmed over your clit and he took pride in the fact that, finally, you had shut up for good. You were only letting out moans and whimpers, pathetic attempts at saying his name that made his cock leak. He had a lot of self-control, he had to be honest, he knew he could keep on going for hours without coming, but he also knew that, once he got inside you, he was going to take out his frustration.
"Does it feel good, cyar'ika?"
"Y-yes, so good..."
Broken, hoarse and ruined, just how he had wanted.
Din managed to coax two more orgasms out of you with only his mouth and hands, your pussy was a sopping and dripping mess, and you were barely able to control your shaky limbs. You were positive your brain was dead, it didn't function anymore. Din kissed your inner thigh as you sobbed and shook, the last orgasm had been what tipped you over the edge of desperation.
His fingers were big and they filled you up nicely, but they weren't enough. You needed more, you needed him. There was only him, only him all over you, but it wasn't enough. You cried and went slack under him, your pussy was on fire but you still wanted more, more, more, you didn't even know what you wanted, you only knew that you needed Din.
"Hey, are you okay?" His soft hand caressed your stained cheeks. "Need a drink?" You shook your head and held onto his wrist, staring up at him. "What do you want, then?"
"You."
"Yeah?" His nose bumped into your jaw. "Do you need me here?" His fingers skimmed over your lips, you shook your head. "Here, maybe?" He let his digits map out your entire arm, ending up on your palm. You shook your head again. "Here, then." From your palm, he caressed his way to your stomach, your belly, your thigh and then your pussy. You moaned, clutching his wrist and shaking. "Ah, I see."
You scooted back up on the bed. Din was still dressed, yet his pants had a noticeable tent in them. Your trembling fingers helped him out of his shirt, his chest was strong in the right spots, soft in others, it was hot and it looked so comfortable. You placed your cheek on his abdomen when he stood up to kick off his trousers and briefs, you kissed his stomach and watched his cock bounce free.
It was big, just like you had imagined, the tip was slightly larger than the rest, a deep pink colour that made your mouth water, the thickness of his shaft and the heaviness of it, the length, it was all you had dreamed of in a man.
You laid back on the bed, legs open, when Din kissed you on the lips, guiding you down so that he could settle between your thighs. He made you rest your bum on his crotch, his erection on your pussy as he slowly lubricated it with your wetness. Your slit was open, eager to be filled and Din let out a grunt when a drop of his precome rolled down his head, he smeared it between your lips.
"I'll push in, slow. I want to watch you take me in, I want to see how I stretch you out."
Your inner thigh spasmed and you meekly nodded.
"And then, then I will fuck you until you make a mess on me, is that clear?"
"Please kiss me." You reached a hand out to him, fingers grazing his chin. "Please Din."
"Mesh'la." He whispered softly on your lips, the roughness gone from his voice and body. "Don't ever beg me to do that."
He kissed you, light and gentle like a feather while you clung onto his shoulders. Din took it as an opportunity to push inside you, you got distracted by how he was holding your face in his hand, by his plush mouth on yours.
You breathed in sharply, the more he pushed in, the more you tried to push your tongue into his mouth. He bottomed out with a groan, he broke the kiss and lowered his gaze, mesmerized by how you took him, by how your little pussy was stretched open to take him, all of him. He tentatively rocked back, then forward, you moaned and he smiled.
Smug, cocky, proud. You wanted to slap him. Instead, you laced your fingers through his hair and tugged.
"Fuck me. Fuck me like you mean it, Din Djarin."
He almost growled when he plunged deep into you in a swift move, your breath got knocked out of your throat and you helplessly moaned on his lips, pawing at the back of his neck. He set up a fast and reckless pace from the beginning, he didn't give you time to adjust and he didn't even care. He had a mission in his brain: ruin you and prove a point.
You held onto his shoulders, you were barely able to understand what was going on, the only thing in your mind was Din, Din and his presence in your room, Din and his hands on your thighs, Din and his lips on your burning throat. He was keeping you split open on his cock, he was ruthless and he wanted to make sure you felt him move into you.
"You're so tight, shit." He bit your neck, sinking his teeth in before licking the sore spot. "You feel good around me, you're squeezing me already."
"Trying to make this torture end."
You quipped back, but all your wit died as soon as Din put a hand on your throat. He squeezed the sides, his thrusts became harsher and you clenched around his cock, shuddering and quivering with your eyes rolled in the back of your head. Your breasts bounced, your nipples hardened and Din lower his head, suckling one into his mouth.
His hand was still on your throat, it held you in place and you shivered, shuddered and whined. He knew you more than you wanted to admit, he was working you through your pleasure and you didn't even know how you were managing to not explode all over him. Perhaps because Din refused to touch your clit, he didn't give you what you wanted.
Only when his thrust became shallow and uncoordinated, Din tightened his grip on your neck and started to rub the rough pad of his fingers over your bundle of nerves. He adjusted his hips a little, your lower back was raised, your legs were hooked around his head and you felt him deeper than before. He hit your spongy spot, again, this time directly and without mercy.
"Shit, the more I squeeze the more you gush out, you're making a mess." His voice was hoarse and your thighs started to shake and quiver. "Am I making you feel that good?"
You whimpered. "Yeah, you are."
"I didn't catch that." The flicking motions over your clit were driving you insane, you kept trying to chase him and his fingers, and you kept on trying to get your pleasure somehow, in any way you could. "Mhm? So? Is it me?"
"Yes!" You were positive you were screaming at that point. "Din, fuck!"
The tight ball in your belly exploded, your hands gripped the sheets and your back arched, Din squeezed on the sides of your neck and your vision went white for a minute or two. You spasmed and whimpered as you gushed all over him, it rushed down your legs and onto his crotch. You made a mess. Yet your walls kept on throbbing around Din's cock, pulling him deeper and trying to get what you wanted most.
Din whined, long and high-pitched, it was much different from the growls and grunts he let out in your ear. He kissed your neck, he lavished it with his tongue before his hips stuttered, he gave you two shallow thrusts before emptying himself into you.
"S-shit." he panted. "You're-"
He shut up, his hips twitched forward as he rode out his orgasm, his nose pressed under your jawline. It brought you comfort to feel him enjoy his pleasure as much as you had enjoyed yours, yet he kept on giving you moving slowly inside you. You whined, it was too much, he was starting to feel too big and too hot.
Din pulled out slowly of you, each inch dragged against your walls and you moaned and whimpered, you held onto his shoulders and clamped your legs shut when he was fully out of you. He kissed you on the cheek before prying open your thighs, settling between them again.
"What are you doing?" Your voice was cut short, his thick fingers breached past your hole for a brief moment and you gripped the sheets, shaking. "Please, don't- I'm- it's too much."
"I know." His fingers left as soon as they entered you. "Open, tongue out." You obliged, you stared at him and let him place his fingers on your tongue. It hit you then. "Good girl."
You were tasting him and you, together, mixed into one single flavour and you were positive that, if you hadn't come so hard already, you would've been begging for another round.
What was left inside of him, came rushing out of you, coating your thighs and the bed underneath you. It felt wet, you were positive there was a mess all around you and you didn't know how you were supposed to move. To talk.
Din stood up, he hurriedly put his boxers on and headed out of the door without another word. It stung, but what were you expecting? He hated you, he had acted on impulse and you should have known that he wasn't going to stick around. It was a one-time thing, and it was going to be enough, it had to be enough. You couldn't hate him, you couldn't even despise him, he owed you nothing.
"Lift your hips." Your head snapped toward the door. "I'm gonna clean you up."
His movements were gentle, and kind, his touch was meant to be soothing you and he peppered your skin with soft kisses, especially on your neck and hips. He dressed you up, just your panties true, but he slid them on slowly, fingers brushing over your heated skin while he crawled in the cot next to you. He dragged the covers over you both and settled behind you.
"Bed's wet." You murmured quietly.
"Do you want to use mine? Grogu's in there, though."
Din kissed you on the shoulder and scooted a little closer, you shimmied around until your were facing him, a hand on his chest and your head safely tucked under his chin. He was so warm, so soft, his arms were so broad and so strong around you, you were going to fall asleep in his embrace.
"The seats were more than okay." Din whispered in your ear, low voice filled with sleep. "I just wanted to... it was a way to talk to you. Even if you do behave like a bitch sometimes."
"Hey!" You swatted his chest and tried to sit up a little. "You're being mean again."
"I was joking." Din murmured, tilting your head up so that he could look down at you. "Stunning, you're beautiful."
"Shut up."
You kissed him, he kissed you back and he kept on stroking your back and your head. He was gentle, he was soft and he was holding you to his chest as you relaxed into him more and more.
Din was a cuddler, who would have known. There was so much you didn't know about him, there was also so much you had assumed that ended up being wrong, but you were eager to get to know him better. He made you calm, he made you happy, even if he pissed you off; but you liked that, you liked the fire it caused in you.
As Din stroked your spine, you looked up at him. He was beautiful, he was stunning.
"Ner kar'ta." He whispered, softly into your ear. "I'll go so you can sleep."
"No. Stay." You kissed and pulled back. "I'll go back to hating you tomorrow."
Din laughed, he settled a little more into the bed and rolled on his back, you shifted on top of his chest and rested your ear above his heart. A steady heartbeat, a quiet sigh was the last thing you heard before falling asleep.
You had wanted to hate him, but how could you when his body fit perfectly with yours? What you felt in that moment, you thought, was going to be tomorrow's problem. You wanted to enjoy what you had.
SUMMARY: When Joel gets a call from Sarah's school, the last thing he's expecting is to run into the most attractive woman he has ever seen. The only problem is that he doesn't even know how to make an approach without embarrassing himself
WARNINGS: pre-outbreak, meet-cutish?, age gap (everyone's legal), Joel has self-esteem issues (kind of), smut, fingering, oral (m - attempted? idk you'll see - and f receiving), bit of a praise kink, unprotected p in v (please don't be as dumb as them), creampie
PAIRING: Joel Miller x f!Reader
WORD COUNT: 8.3k
NOTE: I'm a slut for the hand placement as you all know already, hands have a certain... effect on me. I'm also a slut for Pedro. It was bound to happen, I think I was legally required to write something about him as Joel after days of lurking around on here, reading all the fics out there. I know I said I didn't write for Pedro or his character but uhm- well, time has changed. So requests are open again, I will write for his characters too from now on.
A loud ringing noise resonated through the car, Joel should have known from that moment that it would be bad news. His cell phone never made a peep during the day, unless Sarah got in trouble, which tended to happen more often than he liked to admit. Sarah had always been a great kid, a quiet kid even, but lately she had been acting up, ending up in fights and quarrels almost on a weekly basis.
Joel parked his truck on the curb, he didn't even try to avoid it, the wheels were strong enough to support his shitty driving methods once in a while. Getting out of the car cursing to himself, hands in his pockets, he kept thinking about what he was even supposed to say to the teacher, or even worse to the principal. The litany of "I'm sorry, we're sorry. She has learnt her lesson, it won't happen again, I promise" wasn't going to work anymore, they all saw through his bullshit apology and they all knew that Sarah was not going to behave.
He had to think of something different and he had to be fast.
"I'm here for Sarah Miller? I got a call earlier." Joel mumbled, he had never felt more out of place in his whole life, walking past the high school doors always gave him flashbacks of his time there. "Is everything alright?"
The woman behind the desk gave him a pointed look, she knew who he was, she knew who Sarah was and what she did. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, he wasn't one to break easily but he did find the pressure of that hard, cold stare almost impossible to sustain.
"Infirmary." The woman flatly replied, pointing to her left.
Well, that was new. It had never happened before, Sarah had never been sick at school, usually she would have told him something and stayed at home. Did she have a test? No, she didn't, Joel would have remembered for sure, and she wasn't one to skip out on them. She was a hard-working student, the times she had a mark lower than an A were very few, she would never call out sick.
The anger dissipated and worry settled in, Joel walked faster as he kept on thinking about what the hell could possibly be wrong with Sarah. Did she get hurt by someone? Did she have a fever? Was it worse than he had ever imagined? He knew he was a bit overbearing sometimes, he knew he could be intense and too present, but he was scared shitless of losing her or seeing her get hurt.
He knocked, twice, just for good measure before barging in. Sarah was slumped on a chair, a hot water bottle on her stomach as she stayed crouched down, head on the table. Two other women were standing next to her, Joel remembered one from the principal's office, she had been there when Sarah got a scratch on her face from a scuffle with a boy from her Math class. He assumed she was the nurse, she didn't look too happy to be there.
"I got a call, what happened?" Joel shut the door behind himself and stared at Sarah. "Are you okay, baby?" He gingerly approached her, a hand on her back as he stroked her spine slowly. "What's wrong?"
"Cramps." She muttered, flopping to the side as Joel wrapped his arms around her. "It hurts really bad."
He had seen his friends deal with their daughters' periods, and most of them talked about it as if it was the plague, they got embarrassed and jumpy whenever the topic came up in conversation. Joel had had to raise Sarah on his own, he didn't think he was the best of fathers out there, but he sure as hell didn't get flustered over her having a period.
"I thought you packed your painkillers?"
"Sometimes they're not enough." Joel raised his head. "Hi, sorry. I'm her English teacher, she felt sick in my class so I took her here. I'm new."
Joel stared at you, he was at a loss for words and he wasn't even sure he could be able to find the right ones. He had stopped looking around for a suitable partner, girlfriend, wife, fuck a long time before. He had tried to date once Sarah got older, but it never worked, not even once, maybe he got lucky once or twice, managed to get his dick sucked or a quick fuck, but no one ever lasted long.
"Yeah, thanks." It came out gruff, almost annoyed, Joel hadn't meant for his voice to get scratchy and so rough. "I think I should take her home, put her in bed."
"Good idea." You replied, standing next to him and Sarah, "You need to rest and keep warm."
As Sarah stood up, you handed her father her backpack and her phone. His fingers brushed yours as he took the straps from you, they were calloused, a little rough around the edges and yet soft; just like him, you assumed. Sarah had told you a few anecdotes about her dad over the months you had been there, she talked highly of him whenever he came up in conversation.
You had pictured him completely wrong in your mind, you had assumed he was going to be a buff man, burly in a way that made up for his soft side - almost as if he used it for a cover-up. You didn't imagine him to be handsome, rough yes, but in a way that brought comfort into the room. How he talked to Sarah, how gently he rubbed her back as she got her little jacket on, how he looked at her, it made you like him a little.
You were used to parents that barely even looked at their children, they were either too protective or not interested at all. Sarah had her troubles, sure, but she was also an understanding girl, she helped around and she was more than happy to stick up for the "loser" kids. You admired her, you could tell she had a great role model in her house, and now you could put a face and name on it.
"I'll... get going." Joel grumbled, Sarah securely attached to his hip as he kept on staring at the woman in front of him. There was something about you that he couldn't shake off just yet, he was aware of his daughter tugging on the back of shirt, but he found himself unable to move. "Thanks. For calling. And stuff. I appreciate it."
You were beautiful, there was no other way to put it. Joel kept thinking about your voice, your eyes, your lips, your cheeks as the days went by. He knew it was irrational, he had met you once, just once, and yet he could only think about you; he felt like a fourteen-year-old, and developing a crush at his age was laughable.
Even Sarah had started to notice that Joel was a little out of the loop sometimes: there were mornings when he would purposefully drive her earlier than usual to school, days where he had his head in the clouds and she could call his name twice without getting an answer, nights where she could hear him restless move around the house.
"Alright, question."
Sarah's ears perched up, she looked at her father with a curious tinge in her eyes. "Yes, dad?"
"How do you- If- Would you be okay if I asked someone out?" Joel bit his tongue the moment the words left his mouth.
Sarah blinked slowly. "I guess?" She put the fork down, a piece of bacon still hanging from it. "Who do you like? Please tell me it's not the rude lady that moved in front of us. She gives me creepy vibes, and her son's weird as hell."
"It's not her, fuck no."
"Language." Tommy shouted from the living room, slamming the door behind himself.
"Yeah, yeah." Joel grunted. "Hey, you mind being a little more delicate with that? I ain't gonna fix it if you break it, jackass." He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he had missed Tommy's truck coming over in his driveway.
"Happy birthday, darling." Tommy kissed Sarah's head, brushing her curly hair out of her forehead before sitting down, stealing a few pieces of eggs from her.
"Thank you!"
"Why is he grumpy today?" Tommy pretended to whisper toward Sarah, making her laugh. "Still sulking over the hot teacher he keeps babbling about?"
"Hot teacher?" Sarah stared at her dad. "Is it Mrs-"
"Fuck's sake." Joel pinched the bridge of his nose and slumped into his chair. "C'mon, hurry up, we'll be late. Tommy, we gotta make a stop at that shop I told you about. We need to buy more plates, the ones we got aren't gonna be enough for the party."
"Will you give me my present tonight, dad?" Sarah finished her breakfast and put her plate in the sink.
"Yeah, if you behave at school."
Joel still didn't understand how he got roped into organizing a birthday party for her daughter in his backyard. He didn't know her friends' parents, he barely knew her friends from school and soccer, he was going to feel like a fish out of water there; worst of it all, booze wasn't going to be allowed in there. He didn't know how he was going to get through it, but he was going to try his best for Sarah.
He parked outside the school, he gave Sarah a kiss on the head and watched her get inside. Joel did what he always did in the morning, he stared at you get out of your car and make your way to the school, shoes hurriedly tapping on the pavement as you walked. Was it creepy that he knew your usual time of arrival? Maybe, but those stolen glances at you were all he could get without embarrassing himself.
Tommy honked, you dropped your bag and Joel slammed his open palm on his brother's leg. You raised your head, the fire in your eyes made his cock twitch in his jeans, he was ashamed to say that watching you get a little angry aroused a part of him that he believed dead. All your books and papers were scattered on the ground, yet it took you less than three seconds to make eye contact with him.
"Go help her." Tommy smugly said, popping a piece of gum in his mouth. "I'll wait."
"Fucking asshole." Joel mumbled.
Too late, anyway, you had smiled at him and raised your hand as a greeting. Joel sighed, he had to get out of the car now, he didn't really want to bother you, but it looked like you needed a hand and he had been the one to cause you to drop her bag. Well, Tommy was why he dropped her bag.
Joel made his way to you, hands by his sides as his palms started to get sweaty. He felt so dumb, his tongue was heavy in his mouth, he could feel it rub against his teeth, his feet felt weird in his shoes and he could feel himself start to sweat. Had he remembered to put deodorant on that day? God, he hoped so.
Joel crouched down, you greeted him timidly as he started to help you gather your things back into your bag. He didn't talk, didn't say a damn thing until you stood up again, Joel towered over you in a way that made you feel safe yet intimidated. He was still there, still silent, a hand on your bag as he kept looking down at you, brown eyes studying your features and your body without prying too much.
"Sorry, my brother was the one who honked." Joel muttered, pushing the bag back into your hands. "Sorry."
"It's okay, I'm glad you helped me with this."
The air grew thin around you two, Joel kept staring at you without moving, he was close and - in a weird way - he was still too far away. It was useless to say that you did find him attractive, you rarely went out of your way to make your interest known, especially with one of your student's fathers.
"It's Sarah's birthday today." Joel looked around, watching as the students kept flowing into the school. "Just in case you see her, I know she'll appreciate it if you say something about it."
"I know it's her birthday, she told me last week."
Silence. "Alright, I'll let you go, 'm sure you're busy." Joel took a step back, letting go of your bag. "Sorry for... all of this. I'll get going."
"Hey, you wanna grab some coffee? I got the first two periods off."
Joel stared at you, you had never seen a grown man look so confused and almost out of place before. It was as if he was still trying to wrap his head around what you had just said. You saw his brain work, you could see him almost struggle to think about an answer, you didn't know whether or not he was going to say yes, but you hoped for the best.
"You wanna go with me? Now'"
His gruff voice almost sounded small, so out of character for someone like him, yet you found it adorable. He licked his lower lip, a hand shot to the back of his head to scratch it while he kept looking at you, and if you weren't already into him, those blown-out eyes and rosy cheeks would have made you like him all over again.
"Yeah, if you want that's it." You gulped, the silence mixed with his slightly skittish behaviour was unsettling.
"Uh, sure. Yeah. I'd like that."
Joel had never been big on words but he had also never made such a fool of himself before. He was truly making it worse, he was pretty sure he was going to regret saying yes. What if you wanted to talk to him about Sarah being troublesome? What if you were doing it out of pity? He didn't want to be ridiculed, having Tommy as his brother was already enough.
It had been so long since he had coffee with someone that wasn't his brother, or a coworker. He wasn't sure if it was a date or not, he didn't want to assume and he didn't want to make things awkward, or even more awkward as they already were. What the hell were you doing with a guy like him?
You were so beautiful, so gentle and delicate in his eyes, you had nothing in common with a man like him. You were younger than him, you still were amazed by life, you didn't need to be brought down by his temper and cynical view. Joel always saw himself as the problem, after what happened with his wife, his ex-wife, was the only proof he needed. She wouldn't have left if he had been better.
Tommy honked again, frustrated and impatient to get going. They had a birthday party to plan, gifts to pick up and tables to set, it was going to be a long day, they didn't need any other distractions. Joel glared at him, a silent cold stare that caused his brother to laugh and shake his head. The car started up, he flipped him off and drove away, leaving Joel standing next to you with his brows furrowed.
"Did he..." You whispered, unsure of what to say.
"It's fine. I- uh- I guess we'll have to walk to this coffee shop." When did he get so rusty at socializing? He didn't even want to begin to ponder on an answer. "If you still wanna go."
"I do. I know a place around here, it's great." Your hand brushed over his back and Joel stilled, his brown eyes fixated on your features. "Are you planning anything for Sarah's birthday?"
He noticed how your hand stayed on his back as you two walked, he noticed how you let it drop to his arm, soft fingers wrapped around his bicep as you hopped over a puddle, graceful steps following his heavy ones. He caught a glimpse of your reflection in a shop window, what the hell were you doing with someone like him?
"We're planning a party at our house. Lots of kids, both from school and from her soccer team. She's excited about it. Hopefully, I won't fuck it up."
"I'm sure it'll go smooth, as long as there's cake and snacks."
You both laughed quietly, you could feel the complicity bubble up in your chest, there was so much more hidden under it too, but you didn't want to dwell on it. You wanted to have a good time, not think about the fact that you were practically gushing over him again.
The back of Joel's right hand rested on your stomach once you approached a crosswalk, you didn't move it, he didn't even seem to notice he had done that. Force of habit with Sarah, you assumed. Nonetheless, it was still cute, it still made you glance at his fingers, wondering how they'd feel on your bare skin, how they feel on your face.
Joel waited until the light turned green, then he dropped his hand. You had been tempted to grab it, to lace your fingers through his and just pretend, for a second, that you were on an actual date. You didn't know how to behave anymore, every moment of your life had been polluted with images of him, thoughts of him, dreams of him since your meeting in the infirmary.
It hadn't been fair.
"Here." Joel held the door open for you. "What do you wanna order?"
"I'll go for a muffin and a latte." You stood next to him in line, you were so close you could smell his perfume, pungent in the best way possible. Was it wood? Perhaps it was tobacco, you weren't sure. "No sugar."
He nodded, he leaned back a little and your chest pressed fully on his arm. With a shaky breath, you stared up at the back of his head, smitten at how clueless he seemed to be. Was he not interested? Was he just being polite?
Joel paid before you even had a chance to reach for your wallet.
"You can pay next time."
A gentle smile, soft words whispered so close to your face that you shivered, almost surging forward to taste him, taste his lips as you had been desperately trying to do for the past weeks. You nodded, your eyes rushed across his face, noticing the little white hairs in his beard, how his eyes got a little darker when you licked your lower lip.
How were you supposed to teach a class when the only thing you could think of was how Joel's fingers meticulously and slowly unwrapped his muffin, cleaning the crumbs from his thumb by sucking it between his lips.
You ate and chatted, you drank your latte as Joel drank his coffee. His phone beeped once, a text from Tommy telling him he had managed to score a "deal" on a few pounds of chips, nuts, popcorn and various other snacks. Joel sighed at that, shaking his head and grumbling under his breath.
He walked you back to the school, his hand now hovering over the small of your back at the crosswalk. He had managed to let out more than a few words, talking and opening up a little, letting you in just slightly more than usual and fuelling your crush on him by revealing what a great father he was to Sarah.
"Have fun at the party." You joked, standing right in front of the school gates. "I'm sure Sarah will tell me all the juicy details tomorrow."
"Or you could come." He blurted out. It took you both by surprise, he wasn't expecting to say it out loud and you weren't expecting to be invited. "If you want. It'll be me and Tommy, maybe a few other parents but I'm not too sure. It'd be great to have some company that's... around my age."
You hummed. If you said yes, you would have crossed a line that could not be forgotten, even if you tried. The coffee shop not-date had gone smoothly but you both had kept it friendly, but if you went to his house, you knew you were going to step into hot water, you knew you were going to regret it if it all fell down and crumbled.
"I'll be there. Maybe around 5pm?" Joel nodded. "Here, let me give you my number so you can send me your address."
Tommy picked up Joel right outside the liquor store downtown. He didn't ask questions when his brother climbed into the pickup with a smile on his face, he didn't ask questions when he caught him messaging someone with way too much enthusiasm. Tommy didn't say anything even when Joel came out of his room wearing his best shirt and pants - not jeans, but actual dress pants with a pair of leather shoes and cologne.
Tommy minded his business, he kept his head low and his thoughts to himself. Happiness looked good on Joel.
Everything had been prepared, everything had been set up in his backyard, balloons, tables, music, everything was perfect. Joel had spent a good hour blowing up those stupid balloons, but the joy in Sarah's eyes had rewarded him more than enough. The hug she gave him, the kiss on the cheek, her in his arms like when she was a kid, picking her up and making her giggle, it reminded him that it had been worth it.
With Sarah in his arms, legs wrapped around his middle so that she could rest on his hips, Joel's felt his eyes tingle a little. It had been so long since he had stopped and thought about how fast she had grown, how much their lives had changed. He had raised her, and he had done an excellent job too, she was his most significant achievement ever.
Sarah was his daily reminder that, maybe, he wasn't such a fuck up. He had made his mistakes, he had his issues and his problems, but he wasn't a fuck up, he wasn't a good-for-nothing dad. He was worth something. He had raised a child, he had worked his ass off to give her a good life and she had turned out wonderfully, a little rough around the edges, true, but who wasn't. He was proud of her and she made him proud of himself too.
The heartfelt moment got shattered when Tommy dragged him away from the porch with a cheeky smirk on his face.
"What?"
"You invited that hot teacher here?" Tommy leaned on the front door, arms crossed over his chest as he hummed to himself. "Is that why you're wearing leather shoes?"
"Mind your business." Was the only thing Joel let out before looking through his peephole on the door. "Shit."
He ran a hand through his hair, he had combed it as best as he could, styling it back and smoothing his beard down. He had tried to use the oils and creams Sarah had brought for him a few months before, they did work well, they surely made his skin a little smoother.
Joel cleared his throat and opened the front door. You smiled at him and held up your neatly wrapped present for Sarah, he wondered if you had made the little packaging yourself or if you had got it done by someone else. Either way, Joel let you after a soft "hi" whispered almost in your ear as you walked into the house.
You shyly greeted Tommy and followed Joel to the backyard, which was almost full of teenagers. You didn't know if you could handle it as well as Joel, you had to manage those kids on a daily basis almost, and more often than not they drove you nuts.
Joel watched in awe as Sarah spotted you, running up to you and hugging you tight, head resting on your shoulder. She happily took the gift from you, giving you another hug before making her way to Joel. She whispered something in his ear, she kissed his cheek and ran with her present, placing it on the table right on top of the others.
"Everything okay?" You asked, standing behind Joel as you watched the kids play with Sarah's soccer ball.
"Yeah, yeah. She's really happy about having you at her party, you're kind of her favourite teacher."
"Am I?" You asked, amused. Joel nodded, suddenly much closer to you than before. "That's good, right?"
"More than good."
You were hyperaware of how his breath fanned over your lips, of how your hands were itching to feel his skin under your fingers, of how your lips almost burned in need of being kissed by him. Joel, on the other hand, couldn't stop stealing glances at your body, the jeans you were wearing did wrap around your body beautifully, making your curves look even more appetizing to him, the t-shirt you had on was tight, and he didn't know if you had done it on purpose or not, but you weren't wearing a bra.
Joel was made of flesh, your perfume, your body, your voice, your eyes, it was all too much for him at one point. He was trying to be flirty but he felt almost ashamed of his poor attempts at it. He used to be a skilled lover, a great one too, but once Sarah's mother left, Joel started to doubt his ability as a man and as a boyfriend.
He needed a drink, something cool against his burning palate, and coke and sodas weren't going to cut it that time. You followed him inside the kitchen, he grabbed two beers from the fridge and opened them, handing you one as he leaned back onto the counter.
"It's a great party." Where Is The Love? by The Black Eyed Peas started blasting through the CD player Joel had put in the backyard. "Great music, too."
Joel laughed. "Yeah, Sarah loves to make mixtapes lately."
"Oh I know, she gave me one."
"Yeah? Was it good?" Joel smiled. "I do make sure she always listens to good music around the house."
"She told me you play the guitar and that you're good at it." A step closer was all it took to spark up the tamed flame that kept burning between you two. "Says you can also sing a little."
"I don't know about singing but I'm fairly decent with my hands." Your stomach clenched and your thighs shook slightly. "Must be because of my j- oh, hey."
He hadn't realized you were so close to him, he hadn't noticed you making your way closer and closer to him. Joel's hands instantly rested on your hips, it was timid at first, he was almost afraid he had read the situation wrong. You were so close though, you were wearing a different perfume than usual and your lips were rosier than he remembered.
Joel hoped, prayed, he was correct. The sparkle in your eyes reminded him of his younger self, full of lust and passion, eager to touch and be touched, he remembered those days fondly. They were stacked in the back of his mind, he accessed them daily before meeting you, it was the only form of pleasure he could cling onto without feeling disgusting.
The music changed, Prince started playing in the background and suddenly Joel felt young again. He remembered those nights when he was barely twenty, out dancing and partying, Kiss had been the soundtrack to most of his escapades. He hadn't listened to that song in a long time, perhaps he had mentioned it a few times to Sarah, but that had been it.
Now, Joel found himself with a hand on your hips, your left leg nudged between his and his other hand on the back of your neck. The look you gave him, the tenderness of it all, your slightly droopy eyelids as you breathed him in, closer and closer as the song progressed, it was more he could have ever imagined.
"May I?" His fingers brushed some of your hair out of your face, his soft fingers grazed your cheeks. "Please?"
You nodded under his touch.
Joel kissed like you had imagined, gentle and tentative at first, then strong and dominant after a few seconds of having your lips under his. He held your face in his palms, a persistent sense of warmth spread through your body as you clung onto his shoulders, you pressed yourself closer to him and you wasted no time in wrapping your arms around his neck.
From your cheeks to the small of your back, Joel's hand travelled slowly until he reached the hem of your t-shirt. Long gone had been the days when he used to be such a person, he couldn't even remember the last time he had fucked on the first date or even looked for a hook-up.
Doubt settled into the pit of his stomach, his kiss grew sloppy until he went completely still. You pulled back only to find him with his eyes open and brows furrowed, you wiped your thumb over his cheek and sighed.
"Was it not okay?" You murmured. "Sorry, what the hell was I thinking. I'm so sorry."
You tried to get away from his grip only to have him tug you closer, lips on yours in a matter of seconds. You could feel Joel's need from the way he held onto you, from how helpless he almost seemed as he kissed and ravaged you with his hands, which now were under your shirt, softly stroking your spine.
A loud crash and a set of giggles made you part this time, you could taste him still and your core tightened at the idea of putting your mouth all over his skin, tasting it before reaching what you desired at that moment. Him, all of him, inside and around you. You knew you didn't have the time, you knew that if you fucked him in that kitchen it was going to be quick and not what you had hoped for, but you needed him.
Joel cursed under his breath, he left your side for a small minute, peeking outside and catching Tommy making a fool of himself with those damn balloons. His hand stayed on your hip as he waited a few minutes, Tommy got back on his feet, becoming - once again - the main attraction of the whole party.
"What's going on?" You asked quietly, a hand on his belly as you toyed with the last button of his shirt.
"Tommy's buying us time." He stared at you. "Upstairs, c'mon."
You breathed in sharply when Joel started to kiss your neck, his beard deliciously scraped and scratched your skin while his hands manoeuvred you around. You didn't even have the time to look at his room, Joel was all over you in a matter of seconds after the door slammed shut behind him, pushing you down onto the bed and towering over you as he sat between your legs.
"You dressed up for me?" You whispered in a moment of lucidity, his kisses on your collarbones stopped and he raised his head. "I like it. Although I prefer those tight t-shirts of yours."
"If you don't like what I'm wearing, you can take it off."
Your thighs clenched around his middle, those teasing words rang through you like a bell. Fumble hands dared to take off his shirt, each button a different struggle for you, you had to let him help as you got closer and closer to his groin, you couldn't help but touch the skin on his stomach. It flexed under your palm, a breathy moan escaped your lips when you brushed your fingers over his belt buckle.
Joel undressed you much faster than your brain could even comprehend, one minute you were wearing jeans and a t-shirt, the next you were just in your panties with your tits barely covered by your bunched-up top; his dress pants ended up on the floor right next to your shoes.
You looked down at him, your eyes took in his body, how toned yet soft he was, how his tan skin looked under the sunlight that filtrated into his room. You noticed that he was already hard, his grey boxers did nothing to hide what was going on down there. You felt yourself grow wet once you noticed his erection twitch the moment you softly dragged your nails down his happy trail.
"Let me look at you." Joel murmured as he tossed away your top.
Never had a pair of tits made his cock throb, he was more of an ass man, but he was mesmerized by yours. They fit in his hands perfectly, your nipples were hard as a pebble and the sweet little moans you let out when he lowered his head down, kissing the cusp of your chest with as much adoration as he could muster, were more than enough to make him go crazy.
You fisted his hair when he started to gently suck and pull on your left nipple, his teeth provided the stimulation you need, arched back and shaky breaths were what greeted Joel the second he started to kiss down your stomach, biting, sucking and licking what he could reach. His hands never left your hips, they held you tightly down on the mattress while he took his sweet time with you.
"Joel, please... touch me."
"Not yet." His breath tickled your inner thigh. "I gotta earn it, baby."
A loud moan escaped your lips. He decided to basically ignore your pussy, focusing on your inner thighs instead. You tugged on his hair to no avail, he looked up at you, almost annoyed at what you had done, he punctuated it with a sharp bite and suck on your left thigh, his teeth scraping the soft and tender flesh while you moaned his name.
He didn't take pity on you, he kept making his way down to your knees, then to your calves and ankles before going back up, stopping once again at your thighs. You whimpered, your pussy clenched around nothing as you fought the feeling of bringing a hand down to your clit, just to ease some of the pressure building into your stomach. You were pleading, begging him to put those devilish lips where you most wanted them.
He ran a finger, only one, over your soaked panties, your wetness had turned the baby blue colour a deeper, richer blue right over your slit and clit, creating a path that he was willing to trace with the tip of his fingers. A whine escaped your lips when he breathed over you, he still almost refused to touch you there, ignoring all your requests.
"Joel, I can't- I need you to get your mouth on me." You were positive you were going to actually cry if he didn't get into you somehow. "Shit, shit. Fuck."
He watched in amazement as you almost curled on yourself the moment he rotated his thumb over your clit, still over your panties.You kissed him when he got close enough, you clung onto him with your arms as he started to brush his fingers up and down your hips, his cock pressed firmly over your pussy while he kept on working on your clit.
"You're cruel." You panted on his lips, fingers scratching his chest in a desperate attempt to ground yourself again. "Fucking fuck, Joel."
He stared down at you, your wetness had coated your panties more than he expected, you were throbbing and clenching under him. He pushed your panties down, sliding them off your body as he kept your legs spread.
"You're fucking soaked." He murmured more to himself than to you. His fingers pried your folds open a little more, he scooted closer to you and raised your hips a little. "Can't believe it's all for me."
You meekly nodded as Joel kept you open with his fingers, staring at what was in front of him with such a hunger that your toes curled. You could feel your arousal trickle down your opening, you had never been so wet before, not even when you used your toys in the privacy of your room. You were touch starved, you knew that, but it wasn't only because of that, Joel knew what he was doing.
The first swipe of his tongue left you breathless, you pushed up against his mouth and Joel took it as an invitation to keep on going and amp up his game. Each lick was delivered with meticulous precision to your clit or core, how he curled his tongue around the little nub, how he spent time sucking and rubbing it while his fingers softly skimmed over your opening, all of it was already threatening your power to resist and not come in less than three seconds.
The first press of his index inside you made you moan way too loudly for your own liking. You looked down at him and panted, Joel stared right back at you and pulled back, giving one final lick to your clit as he fully pushed his finger in. Bewildered and enamoured, that's how you'd describe his eyes at that moment, drunk on you and lost in what was in front of him.
You had never met someone who got pleasure from eating pussy, let alone someone who was literally making out with it, tongue messily yet carefully sliding into you along with his finger. You squirmed, crying out in pleasure and wrapping your thighs around his head when his nose bumped onto your clit.
"You taste so good." He murmured between a lick and a kiss. "Fucking drowning me in here, too."
You didn't know if you should be embarrassed or not, but Joel seemed to love how wet and eager you were for him. You fisted his hair slightly, bringing him closer as he kept licking your burning flesh, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.
Moans and pleas filled the air once more as Joel pushed another finger inside of you, curling them up as his lips locked around your clit. You almost screamed, your body tensed up while your legs trembled and shook, perhaps tightening a little too much around Joel's head. He didn't stop, he hummed against your pussy and did it again, this time without stopping to catch his breath.
"Joel, I'm- I'm gonna cum, fuck don't stop."
One more lick, one more push of his fingers and the pressure in your lower belly finally exploded. You arched your back, your thighs shook and clasped around his head, trapping him between them as you shook and trembled under his touch. He didn't stop lapping you up until you stopped shaking, he let you ride out your orgasm on his face, letting go of your hips for a small second so that you could rock back and forth over his face.
Joel moaned, he fucking moaned, as you came on him, you caught his eyes slipping close and even if you had just come, your belly tightened up once more.
"Good girl." He praised you, his fingers slipped out of you as he kissed your now slack inner thigh. "Was it good, darling? Sure looked like it was, with those pretty little sounds and how you held on to my hair... you almost made me lose it."
You licked your lower lip at his words, you were still breathing heavily and words were harder to gather than you expected.
"Need you." Your hand landed on his stomach. "Shit, Joel. You have no idea of how good you are, no idea."
With a surge of confidence, you sat up and pushed him down on the bed, you straddled his hips, your bare core resting on his clothed erection. You stared down at him, your hands cupped his face and you kissed him, he tasted like you and it only fuelled your need for him even more. His hands shot to your hips, holding you tight while you deepened the kiss just a little, you had to feel him, you had to have him right there and then.
Joel looked good under you, his hair was messier than usual, his soft beard was still humid with your release and his eyes were deep, warm and burning on your skin. You shifted down, now sitting on his thighs, your hands travelled down his stomach, which contracted as you lowered your face, now following the trace of your fingers with your lips.
You stopped when you reached his bulge, a short and ragged sigh escaped Joel's lips. You lowered his boxers, you didn't have the patience to kiss him all over like you wanted, you wanted him right at that moment. You were tired of not having, of not tasting him like he had done with you. You had never been a huge fan of giving oral, but what stood in front of you made your mouth water.
Joel was thick, long and a little curved up, a delicious arch that you had to trace with your tongue and lips. The tip, almost purple-is in colour, fully exposed, was already wet with precome, you could see a drop dribble down to the edge of his crown.
You wrapped a hand around his length, the moan he let out combined with his grabbing the sheets was almost enough to make your thighs clench together. Which you did when Joel breathlessly whispered your name once you took him in your mouth, resting the tip on your tongue and savouring him like he did with you.
A tentative lick under the head followed by a soft sucking motion earned was rewarded with Joel's moans and his hands now in your hair, tugging you away from him way too rapidly.
"Not gonna last if you blow me, baby. Save it for the next time." He sat up and pulled you in his lap, wrapping your thighs around his body. "Such a devilish mouth would end up making me look like an inexperienced fool."
He kissed you as he pulled you closer, your chest now pressed on his, his hands were caressing your hips, soft strokes that made you quiver and hide your face in the crook of his neck. Joel held you, the tip of his cock nudged your entrance and you whimpered, scooting back against it and trying to guide it inside of you.
"Hold on, lift up a little." You nodded at his words and used his shoulders as leverage. "Okay... try now."
You lowered down again, Joel was keeping his cock ups with his left hand, the other on your hip, tracing soft circles over it. The head slid right in, it was met with no resistance from you, too eager to feel him finally lodged inside your body. Joel's eyes stared at you as you bottomed down, both of your breathing were laboured and fast-paced, you couldn't control it.
"You're... you're so big." You moaned in awe.
"Wanna stop?" He was sitting still, not daring to move a muscle under you.
"No, fuck no. I want you to fuck me."
In a matter of seconds, you found yourself lying on your back, your knees over his shoulders and your hands on his hair, tugging, pulling and rubbing it as he started to move inside you. He felt big, large, it stretched you out like nothing before and it also managed to reach your deepest point, deliciously hitting it with every thrust.
You tightened around him when his left hand rested over your clit, and two of his fingers started to quickly work on it, stimulation mixed with his words made you close your eyes, back arched and voice already strained. You were never too vocal before, it rarely happened but you couldn't contain yourself, not when Joel softly flicked your clit as he kissed your neck and then your breasts.
"You let out the sweetest noises ever made." He whispered in your ear, a rather deeper and faster pace that made your brain go blank for a second. "I could listen to you for hours, might do that someday. Gonna take you apart, orgasm after orgasm."
How could he talk? How could he still be able to fluently think when your own insides felt like mush? You were blissed out, you could only moan and nod in response, quietly begging him to get you to the finish line. You were shaking and quivering, your hips met his with every movement he made and you were positive you were soaking both him and the cover under you.
"You're taking me so well, aren't you?" His fingers moved eagerly over your clit. "Yeah, you are. You're- shit, you're squeezing me tight, darling."
You could hear his Texan accent come out, it was thicker than usual and you oddly found it sexy, comforting even. It was Joel, Joel was the one fucking you so good, alternating between drilling into you and slowly making you fall apart. The moment you moaned a little louder, Joel got a smile on his face; he kept that speed up, that depth and that pace until you came.
His cock throbbed inside of you as you tried to hold on for a little longer, just a little longer, you didn't want to stop. It was impossible though and you knew it, you could already feel the pressure in your stomach bubble up, it grew and grew and grew until it exploded.
"Joel!"
A mix between a plea and a moan, your nails dug into his shoulders and you curled in on yourself, resting your forehead on his chest as you shook, trembled and loudly panted between his arms. You had never come so hard while fucking, perhaps it had been the angle, the slight overstimulation, perhaps Joel was just that good, but you knew that you were going to get insatiable.
"Made such a mess on me, I can feel your wetness all over." He didn't lay you down again, he kept your back up as he oscillated in and out of you. "Look."
You raised your head up a little, your lower lip between your teeth as you watched how his cock fucked into your spent pussy. It was coated in your slick, watching Joel's dick fuck in and out of you was mesmerizing, you couldn't stop staring at how precise his movements were. Joel fucked with a purpose, he had his goal set and you could feel him twitch between your walls.
His hand gripped the base of his erection, he tried to pull outside but you whined, your legs tightened around his middle and you hummed in pleasure, sliding back down on him.
"I want you inside." Joel gulped, you moved the hand away from his groin. "Please, Joel.
His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, you kissed him on the lips and Joel caved in. Three final shallow thrusts, one deep one and he came, your name whispered on your lips with his eyes boring into yours. You felt him, felt his release deep inside of you, coating your walls so wonderfully that you couldn't help but contract around him, milking his every drop.
Spent, satiated and almost tired, Joel rolled off and out of you, he landed on his left side, he placed a hand on your stomach and the other ended under your head. Cuddler, that was what he was. Kisses and caresses landed down on you as you brushed your hands through his hair and down his back. You could feel his come leave your body, but you didn't care in that moment, you just wanted to stay in his arms with your ear on his chest.
"We're gonna miss Sarah opening her presents." You murmured after a handful of minutes. "And the cake." You huffed. "I want to stay here though. "
"So do I, but we can't skip that." Joel's fingers traced the outline of your cheek.
Getting dressed turned out to be more difficult than you anticipated, you were still a little drunk on pleasure and you didn't know how to behave, what if you said something? What if Sarah asked something? You didn't know what you were even supposed to say, you had just gone head in without thinking of the consequences, you were so stupid sometimes.
"Hey." Joel's warm hands grabbed yours. "Stay the night, alright?"
"Is that an excuse so I can help you clean up?" You tried to lighten up the conversation, Joel shook his head. "Then what?"
"Have dinner with me, Sarah's going to be with a friend of hers and it... it'd be nice if you said yes."
"Alright."
"Yeah?" You nodded, Joel kissed you on the mouth. "Okay, good, let's go."
You walked down the stairs, back into the garden, everyone was where you had left them. All busy, too busy to have noticed you and Joel missing. You were pretty happy about that, you hadn't defined anything, what was there to define anyway, so you were pleased with seeing that nothing had changed.
And maybe Joel did place a hand on your back as you sang "Happy Birthday" to Sarah, maybe he did rest a hand on your thigh, maybe he did kiss you in the kitchen as you fetched Sarah a pair of scissors for her present. But who cared, you were happy and so was he.
Hc moonboys preferred sleeping arrangements? 😴🌙 ex. Big Spoon/little spoon, tangles of limbs, cuddly octopus? 😂
I could go into heavy detail AND I WILL
How the Moon Boys sleep:
Marc will make it his personal mission to be all over you as soon as you lie down in bed. He starts to inch closer all sneaky, one moment he’s on the edge of the bed, the other his thigh is touching and rubbing on yours
He likes to hold you as he’s about to fall asleep, he says that hearing you breathe so close to his ear is soothing
He will never admit it, but he prefers to be held. After he comes back from whatever mission Khonshu has picked/after a therapy session/after a hard day, he needs to be looked after
He doesn’t like to say it out loud, but having you be the big spoon is comforting to him, he knows he’s safe because you’re all wrapped around his back, forehead pressed on his shoulder
Marc is very secretive when it comes to his preferences, but you know he’s a big softie and he loves to be taken care of even as he sleeps, which means that - more often than not - you wait for him to fall asleep before spooning him
He’s also very needy, he will nudge you with his toes if you’re not paying attention to him before going to sleep
Say you’re on your phone in bed, he will go mental and start whining, but not out loud
He will huff and puff while moving around, “casually” pressing his whole body on yours as you try to read/watch something
Steven is flat out bossy when it comes to sleeping. He cherishes it, he has been deprived of it for so long that he has a whole ass routine he needs to follow
He gets in bed, makes sure you’re there too and as sleepy as him, reads a few pages as he rubs his feet together, then pulls you close and tucks you under his arm
Not a huge fan of sleeping on his back, it makes his chest feel compressed, he prefers to sleep on his side or on his chest
That means that with Steven, limbs fly everywhere while you’re sleeping
He doesn’t let you move, his grip on you is pretty solid and he tends to trap you under his weight, legs tangled together
He doesn’t have a lot of nightmares, but he does get restless and agitated sometimes
The only way to calm him down is to pet his hair
Jake is the big spoon, always. No questions asked
You tried to hold him once, didn’t turn out that good
He prefers to hold you to his chest, spooning is one of his favorite sleeping positions but he has grown fond of having you all curled up on his chest after injuring one of his shoulders
He holds your hand a lot, you could be basically living inside his ribcage and he will still hold your hand as he fights off sleep
He makes it his mission to watch over you for at least ten minutes after you close your eyes, more often than not he fails to stay awake because having you so close is just way too soothing
Jake is the only one that snores if he’s really tired, it’s not too loud nor annoying, it’s mostly cute and endearing
He will pout in his sleep if you move around too much, he’s a light sleeper and if you end up slipping out of his grip, he will chase after you and pull you back between his arms
So, I’m back. Again. At least for the whole month of November. I’m taking a break from work, which means that I have time to both focus on my studies and write.
I don’t have many WIPs and I’d like to get my brain going again, so if you guys want, feel free to send me requests for small drabbles/headcanons/one shots. I’ll be more than happy to do them all.
i just found your blog and i'm already in love ❤. especially w/ the fics of steven making you pregnant 😩. i never once imagined myself wanting kids, but i dreamed i was pregnant w/ steven's child 🤣 and he was so lovely. so, yeah, i keep on imagining him as a dad... and it turns me on???
no but hey, same. don’t want kids AT ALL but I’d let Steven do anything he wants to me. like he wants babies??? how many??? i’ll birth them rn for him. i’d die for that man
when u get this u have to put 5 songs 🎵 u actually listen to, publicly. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)💕
okay this is freaking hard, i’ll just list the 5 ones i’m currently obsessed with:
