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band-aids & boots

dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

A/N: hi. first time posting something i’ve written!! woah! i hope someone gets to read it. i can’t stop consuming dbf!joel content so heres my way of coping!! a one shot!!(?)! also i apologize in advance for the layout & any editing mistakes. please have grace for me <3

Summary: Halloweekend. Your dads street hosting its annual block party & everyones dressed up for the costume contest!

Rating: 18+ MDNI !!!!

Word count: 11.8k oops

Tags: dbf!joel, protective!joel, joel dressed as a cowboy, duh, aka just a hat and his regular get up. smut, porn with little plot, pining, age gap (reader ~25 Joel is late 40s early 50s), fem!reader, p in v, fingering (f receiving), established secret relationship, use of pet names, dirty talk, dom!joel, sub!reader, spit kink, he slaps her (she loves it)

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The street was alive, smoke rising from the grills planted in almost everyone’s driveway, music spilling out of cracked windows and booming from speakers across the way. Kids darting by in costumes and neighbors laughing too loud over cheap beer and folding tables. You closed your eyes and sucked in a deep breath through your nose. The smell wafting from outside was comforting. The annual Halloween block party.

You smoothed your palms over your torso, ridding of any wrinkles in your costume. You tilted your head while you watched yourself in the full length mirror.

Your body clad in a white dress, the buttons in the front coming to rest just between your breasts. The red, lacy bra top exposed. Your eyes fell down your legs, covered in thin, white stocking material until your mid thigh. Your hands fumbled with the skirt of your dress, reaching up to grab the strap of the white garter belt you had beneath the costume, clipping it to keep your thigh highs in place. You repeated this on the other thigh.

Hair tied into a low, messy ponytail, pulling strands out to frame your face. Small, white costume hat with a fat red cross in the middle sat off center the top of your head. Your eyelids are packed with a pale blue shadow, lined with black and finished with thick mascara. Red lips, and rosy cheeks to match.

Damn.

You thought. You’re pretty fucking close to the real thing. Just missing one thing. You pulled a skin tight blue latex glove over your one hand, letting it snap against your skin.

You smiled contently at yourself, wiggling your toes against the floor in excitement. This wasn’t for you. None of this was for you actually, despite how fucking good it felt to have this on. It was for Joel. It’s been two agonizing weeks since you’ve last seen him.

It’s always- “Sorry, baby. Your dad’s keepin’ me late at work tonight. No slippin’ away.” and not- “F’course I’ll come over and do away with the nagging between your thighs. Right away, baby.”

You could roll your eyes right now just at the thought. But this. This is good enough revenge for now, you figured. ‘Nurse from the Blink-182 Album’ You know. Enema of the State. Joel doesn’t give a shit about Blink-182. But he will give a huge fuck about you in this outfit. Your stomach turns at the thought.

You peer over to the red heels lying outside your closet door and you think about it long and hard. But theres absolutely no fucking way you’re trudging through gravel drive ways in them. You bend down, hooking your fingers into your old pair of white converse.

These’ll do.

You slip them on and turn to the steps, bouncing down them.

———

Joel sucked on the toothpick between his lips, bringing a hand up to tilt the cowboy hat upon his head, bringing it forward slightly. He sighed, leaning against the wall of your front porch. Tommy and your father opposite him, backs to the street. Your father lazily flips burgers around on the grill.

He was trying to act normal- laugh when he should, nod when Tommy or your father told him a story- but it was damn impossible with you prancing around the front yard like that.

Tight, short nurse’s dress. Red lipstick he was dying to smear. Skin tight stockings clinging to your thighs and- fuck. The garter belt clip that keeps them there.

You were laughing, handing out beers to some of the neighbors who sat in lawn chairs. The hair framing your face blowing softly in the cool wind. Joel tightened his jaw, hard enough that he snapped the toothpick between his molars. He spat it to the side with a grunt, beer warming in his tight grip.

Your dad, dressed in a pirate costume- hat, eyepatch, and all- was eating it up. “That’s my girl!” He shouted, holding his beer up, tilted towards you as he laughed. “Ain’t she somethin’? I barely gotta host ‘round here now that she's home.” He raised his eyebrows, bringing his beer to his lips for a long sip.

Joel forced a grin through a strained jaw . “Yeah.” he muttered under his breath, “She’s somethin’ alright.”

Tommy gently jabbed his elbow into his older brothers. “Man, you look like you’re in pain or somethin’. Y’alright?” Tommy turned his head towards Joel.

Joel mirrored him, giving him a once over before chuckling and shaking his head. “M’fine. Can’t take you serious with-“ Joel gestured his beer towards his kid brother. “All’at.”

Tommy furrowed his thick brows, lips falling to fein offense. “You barely got a damn costume on. You ain’t winning shit, Joel. I came to win, mother fucker.” He spoke coolly, taking a step back to let your dad and Joel get a good look at his costume.

Tommy had a pair of khakis on, dark green long sleeved shirt, and a black rubber apron tied over his torso, his face splattered with blood and some more dripping down the apron. Laminated I.D badge slung around his neck: ‘Dexter Morgan.’ Fake knife hanging from his belt.

“I ain’t peg you for a Dexter fan, Tommy.” Your dad quipped while shaking his head at the two brothers.

“Eddie, y’look like you’re fresh off’tha damn Black Pearl.” Joel chuckled, Tommy dropping his smug look to laugh alongside him.

“Ain’t no damn.. Jack Sparrow.” Your dad laughed, taking some burgers off of the grill, placing them on a platter. “Just any fuckin’ pirate. The two a’yous piss me off.” He joked, sucking his teeth.

“Baby! C’mere!” Your dad called, your head snapped at his shout.

You came quickly, bounding over to the three men.

“You lot doin’ alright?” You beamed, eyes lingering on Joel for just a moment longer.

He looked fucking good. When didn’t he, though. His blue jeans snug around his thighs, fell neatly around his booted feet. It looks like he polished them recently. His dark navy flannel, nothing new, you’ve seen it on him thousands of times but it always looks just as good. Buttoned almost to the top, two spaces left undone, few dark, wiry hairs peeking over the snug, white beater he had on underneath. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the muscles in his arm visible as his hand gripping a beer bottle tighter and tighter. You swallowed thickly as your eyes moved slowly to meet his eyes. You’d probably be drooling if it weren’t for your dad and Tommy standing between you and Joel. The air felt thicker than usual. His eyes were dark and stoic, burning into your body. His dark hair was peppered with grey at his hairline, curling at his ears and the nape of his neck more than the rest. And fuck- that damn cowboy hat.

“We’re doin’ just fine, baby.” Your dad nodded, then gestured towards the plate of burgers he had just pulled off the grill, a sorry smile on his face.

“Would y’mind runnin’ these around and offerin’ them up?” He asked, a sing-song tone in his voice, trying to persuade you.

You laughed softly and shook your head. “I gotcha. Wouldn’t want hostin’ to interrupt your boy time.” You poked at him before grabbing the tray.

You gestured the tray towards your dad, then Tommy, letting them take what they’d like.

“Want some?” You questioned Joel, looking up to him through your thick lashes.

His lips turned, almost grimaced at the way his stomach twisted. “Not hungry f’that right now.” He muttered emotionless.

Your face flooded with heat, you’d be surprised if it couldn’t be felt 10 feet away. You’d nod your head and turn quickly before you jumped his bones. You could feel his eyes bore into the back of your head, following you as you’d walk down the porch steps and back to the yard, smiling and offering up the food on the platter.

Tommy took a bite of his burger, settling next to his brother. Your dad stood and started cleaning the grill. Tommy mentioned something about the Rangers, but didn’t get an answer from Joel. He whipped his head over, narrowing his eyes to follow Joel's eye-line once he realized Joel was too preoccupied to pay the slightest attention.

Tommy hummed in amusement when he saw you, holding your tray, bent at the waist and chatting with a neighbor sitting in a lawn chair.

“You’re starin’ awful hard at Eddie’s girl.” Tommy said low, nudging Joel with his elbow. “You got a thing for nurses now, old man?” Tommys got a sick grin on his face despite chewing on his last bite on the burger.

Joel gave him a sharp look. “Drop it, Tommy.” He spat.

Tommy held his hands up in defeat, chuckling lowly. “Alright, alright.”

“Need a beer.” Joel said, jaw tight.

“You offering?” Eddie quipped.

“Nope.” Joel popped the ‘p’ while pushing himself off the wall, heading through the front door of the house.

——

The noise of the block party muffled as you walked through the back door, the tray now empty as you had made your rounds. You stopped in there to wash up quickly and grab more beers. You were halfway into the fridge when a rough hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, yanking you around.

Joel.

He was towering over you, his hat shadowing his dark eyes, the muscle in his jaw ticking. Up close he smelled like beer, smoke, and the lingering warmth of October air. It was dizzying.

“You tryin’a kill me, baby?” he muttered, a deep rumble, only for you to hear.

“What? M’just celebrating.” You fiend innocence as Joel backed you up against the counter top, the cold granite pressing into the middle of your back. His body is just inches from yours.

His eyes lowered to your lips, then to trace the obscene outline of your costume. The curve of your thighs, the way your chest nearly spilled out of the tight, low neckline.

“You’ve got no idea what you’re doin’ t’me, sweetheart..” He breathed out, pushing his hips forward, into yours.

He leaned down, breath hot against your ear. “No fuckin’ clue.”

You did have a clue. You felt it as clear as day pressing into your lower stomach as he kept you pinned at the counter, his fingers flexing against your wrist while his other hand brushed over your side. Your lips parted, a soft sigh falling against his collar when his hand gripped your side, pulling you against him.

“Maybe I do.” You teased, whispering soft against his skin, lips pursed just under his ear, pressing a kiss there.

A low groan rumbled in the back of Joel's throat, hand that was wrapped around your wrist leaving to cup your jaw, his broad palm splayed across the front of your neck. His thumb and middle finger pressing gently into your jaw bone, his index finger tapping the apple of your cheek once. His grip wasn’t harsh but it was strong, your face squished slightly. You’d blink quickly while looking up to him through your heavy lids, your stomach twisting and turning with heat.

“You keep pushin’,” He growled through a tight jaw. “N’ I’m not waitin’ ‘til later to put you in your place.”

You swallowed thickly, he could feel your throat flex under his warm palm.

“You understand me, pretty girl?” He leaned back a bit to get a better view of you, his hand giving your jaw a squeeze, his other hand slipping from your side to your lower back, pulling your hips flush against his.

Your eyes hooded, he barely touched you and you already look so fucked. You couldn’t help but crumble at his touch, he’s too calculated. He knows when to push, when to pull. Where to touch, where to grip, then to soothe it after. It makes your head spin.

On cue, his thumb shifted, rubbing small circles into your back where he guesses the corner of the counter was just jabbing you.

You squirmed beneath his gaze, it only brought a sly smirk to the corners of his full lips. You’d nod the best you can against his hand. He sucked his teeth sharply.

“Words, baby.” He raised his eyebrows waiting for your response, his tongue darting to wet his lips quickly.

The sight made you squeeze your thighs together, searching for any sort of friction to relieve the growing pit in your stomach. Just that short lived glimpse of his tongue was enough to fill your mind with gut churning flashbacks of his head between your thighs, his salt and pepper curls tickling your skin while that tongue lapped at you endlessly. His eyes were dark under heavy lids as he studied your face. His thumb lifted from your jaw and hovered over your lower lip, instinctively you parted them. Your eyes stayed locked on his, though his were now centered at your mouth. Slowly he pressed the pad of his thick thumb into the swell of your lower lip, then dragged it to the side, smearing the bright red lipstick over to the corner of your mouth.

What the fuck.

Your knees wobble. If he wasn’t holding you so closely they’d buckle and you’d fall right to them in front of him, beg him to let you take him in your mouth right there, in your kitchen, with the entire street just a wall away.

Tommy, just a wall away.

Your dad, just a wall away.

“Lemme hear ya’.” His voice snapped you out of your daze. Thick and syrupy against your buzzing ear drums.

“Y-Yeah. I understand.” You finally choke out, embarrassed at how pathetic you must sound.

He smirked, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he stood himself up straight, his hand behind your back steadying your wobbling frame- so used to his weight being held against it already. He sighed softly, hand leaving your jaw to slap his three, thick, middle fingers against your cheek. It wasn’t hard, just a love tap. But enough to leave your skin burning, to match the feeling between your thighs.

“Good.” He smiles. “Get back outside.” He mutters. “‘fore I do somethin’ stupid.”

It pained him to let you go at that moment. But you cleared your throat, nodding your head while bringing your own gloved thumb up to your mouth, pressing the pad against the flat of your tongue. Then swiping it below your bottom lip, cleaning up the lipstick he had smeared just a moment prior.

You turned to leave, smoothing your hands down your costume and taking a few steps when he cleared his throat, his feet still haven’t moved from their spot.

“Don’t forget the beer, baby girl.” He’d remind you, a sly, lopsided smile on his lips.

Fuck, what the fuck. Your brain is mush.

His stupid smile made your stomach contort. You trudged back the few fews, swinging the fridge open and grabbing as many in your arms as you could.

“You’re a real ass.” You grumbled before turning your back to him, cheeks hot while walking back out the back door.

Joel was left standing there, a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding, forcing itself from his lips as you pushed the door shut. His fists clenched at his sides, doing all he can to not follow you like a mad man.

——

It was incredibly hard to host while your brain buzzed with Joel. You tried your best with keeping up with conversation, but you weren’t retaining any of it. A ditsy smile on your lips, nodding and uh-huh’ing when it seemed right. You couldn’t focus on anything else other than him. Hell, most of the time your eyes were scanning the yard to make sure he was still here, still close. You were impatient and needy. You had half the mind to drag him away from Tommy and right up to your room, deal with all the bullshit fallout after. A hand on your shoulder made your body jump.

You heard your name behind you.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya.” The boy snickered, shoving your shoulder a bit.

Your shoulders relaxed when you saw Cody.

“Me? Didn’t scare me.” You laughed softly while opening your arms and pulling him into a hug, then holding him out in front of you to get a good look.

“My, my. New York did you well. You’re even taller n’ me now!” You whistled and laughed.

Cody grew up only a few houses down from yours. You both graduated high school together. You were close while growing up but amicably went separate ways when you both went off to college. Cody went to Columbia. Boy was smart as a whip. Lacked in common sense, but book smart. You’d seen him once the first summer after you both went away at a big BBQ with some of the neighbors.

He was cute, thinner build with a boyish face, could barely grow facial hair. The hair in his head was a dirty blonde and all over the place, curling at the ends. Cute. The both of you ended up getting quite drunk and had a half assed make out session on a tire swing in his backyard, and went your separate ways again to school. He texted you a week after that.

——

‘guess i’m not a good enough kisser to get a text? hahah’

You remember cringing as you saw the notification light up your phone.

‘knew i was drunk, but didn’t think i was that drunk!’

You played it off as a joke. You didn’t like him like that. You were drunk, young and lonely at the time.

——

You still don’t like him like that. But he was always a decent friend to you.

Cody nodded his head. Still had his bouncy blonde hair, but it was restrained under a hat.

“Race car driver, huh?” You smiled and tapped his arm before dropping your arms at your own sides.

“Oh absolutely. Last thing the store had in stock.” He joked while picking at the costume. “You look real good tonight,” Cody said eagerly. “Way too good to be hangin’ ‘round a dad party.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, taking a small step back. You didn’t expect him to be so forward. You laughed politely, wrapping your arms around your torso.

“Well, thanks Cody.” You said quietly, lips in a kind smile.

Joel and Tommy were leaning against your dads truck in the driveway. Tommy going on and on about the homeowner for the new job they just picked up, how bossy and nit-picky she is. Joel isn’t absorbing a lick of this. His dark eyes are shooting daggers into Cody.

“Maybe after things wind down..” Cody continued, his voice low as he leaned into your ear. “We could find a real party?”

You physically cringed. Is this really what guys your age thought was smooth?

No sweet talking? No soft looks and hot whispers?

No Joel.

They weren’t Joel.

Joel was smooth.

He was sweet and slow when he wanted to be. He was collected, stoic but melted in your hands when you were alone. As dominant as he was, you always had the final say. He’d do anything for you. He’d kneel before you and make you finish twice with his mouth before bending you over and fuck you until tears spilled down your cheeks. Then he’d kiss them away, rub your back and whisper-

‘s good baby. pretty girl. ‘s alright darlin’ i’m here. y’took my cock so well, s’like your made for m-’

Cody cleared his throat, pulling you from your thoughts. You still didn’t answer him.

Oops.

Your eyes were wide as you scanned his face, and could barely remember what he asked. It had to be clear as day because he repeated, placing his hand on your shoulder, slowly rubbing it down your arm to grip your elbow.

“Wanna find a real party later?” He repeated.

Joel wanted to take the beer bottle in his hand right now and crack it over this kids thick fucking skull.

“Kids bad news.” Tommy strains through his mouth full of beer, gesturing to Cody.

“What?” Joel snapped, he swore his blood ran cold.

“M’kiddin’. He’s a fuckin’ dork.” Tommy chuckles, his words slurring.

Joel rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the truck, taking a step towards the two of you only to be stopped by a strong arm pushing against his torso. Tommy almost choked on his beer.

“Woah, woah.” He sputtered, pushing Joel back against the truck.

“What’re you fixin’ to do, big brother?” He questions, squinting his eyes as he tries to read Joel's face.

His eyes were locked onto you and Cody, body stiff as his back was on the truck again, Tommy’s arm lowering after a beat. He didn’t answer. Watching your tight, polite, forced smile. Cody leaning in closer, talking too damn much. Touching your fuckin’ arm.

Eddie peered over to Joel and Tommy, then you and Cody before letting out a laugh. He sauntered over, enough beers in him that he really did look like Jack Sparrow, walking the way he was. He slapped Joel on the back.

“She can handle him.” He reassures Tommy and Joel. “Cody’s harmless. He’s been makin’ eyes at her since they were fifteen. Little punk just ain’t smart enough to know she’s outta his league.” Your dad laughs at his own comment.

Joel silently agrees. ‘Way out.’ He thinks to himself, bringing a hand of his to pinch the bridge of his nose, pulling himself together.

“Fucker went to Columbia, still ain’t smart enough.” Eddie continues with a laugh.

That comment pulls a laugh from Tommy, but not from Joel.

Joel grunted, muscle in his jaw ticking. Tommy and Eddie were too busy laughing back and forth over it, he used the opportunity to saunter towards you.

You shook your head softly. “Thanks, Cody. But I’ll be good here. Dad party or not.” You confirm with a solid nod, taking a slow step back.

Cody flushed and muttered something under his breath, then turned to walk away. You rolled your eyes and pushed air through your lips, blowing raspberries as he did.

Joel stopped in his tracks as Cody turned away, weight lifting from his shoulders when they rolled back. He sipped his beer, but kept a watchful eye. Pretending like he didn’t want to snap that kid in half.

You turned to pick up some empty cans, catching sight of Joel and his rigid frame, shooting him a quick look as if to say.

‘Relax.’

His shoulders slouched as he sighed. But he was hanging on by a thread.

———

Your dad stood at the porch, drunkenly declaring the start of the costume contest, giving directions to those who wanted to participate. Slowly groups gathered across the street, leaving a few stragglers behind. You’re using the opportunity to clean up some. Collecting empty bottles, cans, plates and candy wrappers.

You caught his eye again from across the yard. You froze where you were standing, the both of you just taking a moment to stare. His eyes flickered behind the house, then back to yours. You blinked, doing the same. When your eyes met him again he tilted his head the same direction, quickly. He pushed himself out of his chair and went through the front door of the house. You gave it a moment before following, anxious bubbles blooming in your sternum. All you two knew was sneaking around. That same giddy feeling pushes goosebumps over your skin every, damn, time.

You made it into the house, looking around for him before noticing the back door was propped open.

You whine in confusion. “Joel, what the fuck.” You whispered to yourself, exiting the back door and shutting it behind you.

Still no sign of him.

You did hear heavy boots crunching on stale leaves. Your heart thumped against your chest, you swallowed thickly, making your way towards the back of the yard, by the shed.

Nothing. You push air through your nose, frustration growing.

What the fuck is he doing? Calling you to the back and disappearing? Is this fun to him?

You start to get annoyed, an anxious feeling in the bottom of your stomach.

A large, calloused hand grips your wrist for the second time today, pulling you behind the shed, pressing you roughly against the siding. The air pushed from your lungs in a gasp.

“What the f-“ You started angrily.

“You tryin’ to make me lose my goddamn mind tonight, darlin’?” He hissed against your ear, his breath pickling heat against your skin.

You dropped your annoyed frustration. Quickly it turned into a hot, needy kind of frustration between your thighs. A sick smile twisted at the ends of your lips, arching your back against the shed, pushing your chest into his broad, firm chest.

“What if I was?” You gleamed, breathless.

His expression stiffened, eyes cold and dark. He released your arm, that hand wrapping loosely around your jaw, the opposite finding your hip. He splayed his thick fingers along the curve of your ass, slipping his hand lower to cup your thigh, urging your leg to lift and hook at his hip. You whined at the cool air now having direct contact to your damp clothed core. His lips crashed to your hungrily, kissing you hard. His hand squeezed your thigh as he sunk his teeth into your lower lip. The sound leaving your throat was filthy, pleading for him.

“You keep wearin’ shit like this,” He muttered, dragging his lips across the skin of your jaw, sucking soft kisses there. “Someone’s gonna end up dead. And it ain’t gonna be me, baby.”

You moaned softly, his words hitting your core directly, heat building there. You giggled through needy breaths, snaking a hand between the two of you, tugging his cowboy hat lower to cover his eyes.

“You gonna punish me, cowboy?” You emphasized your southern drawl, and the growl that rumbled in his chest was all the assurance you needed to know his answer.

“Damn right I am.”

Your hand rested at his shoulder, pulling him down for another desperate kiss. His hand left your throat to mirror his other, cupping your opposite thigh and coaxing it to do the same. You whined into his lips and he swallowed every one of them. As you lifted your thigh, he bounced you to get a better grip, his strong, warm hands spread along the underside of your thighs, his hips pushed forward to keep you pinned at the wall. The cool metal of his bulky belt buckle pressed into your damp panties made you rut your hips pathetically against it.

One of his fingers finds its way under the strap of your garter belt. He pulled it away from your skin with a hooked finger, far enough to create tension. He let it slip. The strap snapped harshly against the sensitive, fleshy skin. You whined, body stiffened at the sharp burn, melting as it slowly turned sweet.

“Joel- please..” You pleaded against his lips.

“Yeah? Want me to take you right here-“

You heard your name.

Tommy’s voice.

Way too close.

You heard it again, shoes crunching the leaves beneath them.

Panicking, you look at Joel.

He’s losing his shit too.

Fuck.

“Shh. I got you.” He whispered, letting you down softly, but quickly onto the ground. You’re grateful with how quickly he’s collecting himself because you’re sure you still look like a deer in headlights.

Footsteps crunching closer.

Joel ushered you behind the recycling bin, mouthing to you ‘crouch down. be quiet’

You nodded. Your heart was beating out of your chest while you pulled your knees so close to your chest you could barely take a full breath.

Joel turned his back to you, rolling his shoulders back while clearing his throat.

“Joel?” Tommy's voice sounded so clear, he had to be right there.

“Takin’ a leak.” He said cooly. Like he didn’t just have you off the ground, whimpering into his lips.

You swallowed thickly, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to convince yourself this is just a sick fucking joke.

“You seen Eddie’s girl? He’s lookin’ for her.” Tommy slurred.

You heard Joel rustle with his belt buckle. ‘really selling the ‘takin’ a leak’ You thought to yourself.

“Ain’t seen her. Did you check the house?”

Tommy didn’t answer, he lingered for a second.

You felt your stomach sitting in your throat, threatening to spill your guts and give away your cover.

Tommy sucked his teeth, mumbling something under his breath before turning away. Leaves crunching under his shoes again.

You still felt like you were gonna puke, all this built up tension. You needed another second to remind yourself to breathe.

Joel peered around the bin to you, his face flushed, looking like he just ran a mile.

“Y’almost got us caught.”

“You almost got yourself caught, cowboy. Hands up my skirt n’ all.” You grumbled, frowning at him.

His lip curled, muttering something under his breath. He placed a hand on his belt, peering down at you.

“What was that?” You teased, a small smile teasing your lips.

“Said you’re a damn brat.” The words rolled off his tongue effortlessly, and landed deep, heavy in your core.

All the worry and anxiety melting from your body in that moment, that warm pit in your belly taking its place. He reached for your hand, that you graciously took, and pulled you to your feet. His hands, the ones that were just gripping your thighs in a filthy way. The ones that grip and pin your hips, the pads of those fingers that leave bruises there sometimes.

Those hands- His.

His hands.

They were gentle for now, brushing the dirt and leaves from your costume and helping you settle again. His last words rattled around in your brain.

“Go on, get ‘fore you get us both strung up.” His voice was soft, his hand giving you pat on your hip, guiding you out to the front as he lingered behind the shed a moment longer.

——

You were exhausted. Tired from picking up after everyone. You’re making runs for drinks, ice, trash bags, more drinks, quick pit stop behind the shed with Joel, judging the costume contest, things now finally starting to wrap up.

“Tommy, you’re really no help.” You’d mutter, tossing an empty can in his direction. He sat, eyes closed in a lawn chair. He gave no response.

“Only thing I asked-“ You’d grunt, trying to push the grill over to reach some trash behind it. “Was for you to- fuck-“ You panted, grunting against while pushing the grill. “Hold the fuckin’ bag open. Ya drunk, can’t even do that.” You blew air through puffed cheeks, shoulders slouched over as you turned back to him.

He was stirring in the chair, eyes not closed, but heavy enough to look it. “Not a drunk.. You screwed me on that contest. Should’ve been first place.” He slurred. You laughed at him, tossing an empty red cup that was behind the grill at him next, barely making it in the bag.

“You holding grudges now?” You joked, clapping your hands together to brush them off. “C’mon. Don’t be a baby.” You teased.

“He still sour o’er that?” Your dad’s voice comes from the yard.

“He hasn’t shut up ‘bout it since.” Joel chimed in, packing the speaker away.

You smile and shake your head at Tommy’s mumblings and groans.

“I got the rest of this.” Your dad says, walking over and putting a hand on your shoulder. “I got him too.” He gestures to Tommy, who looks like he might actually be asleep now.

“Are you sure?” You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head up to him.

“Mhm.” He hums, looking at the yard then back to you. “Long as you don’t mind helpin’ Joel take some of these chairs back to his house, huh kid?” Joel cleared his throat from a few feet away, eyes locked onto you.

Your stomach sits heavy.

It’s sick, really.

Your dad asking you to help Joel, to be alone, in his house, for who knows how long it takes to put away some damn chairs. While he’s sat taking care of his kid brother.

It’s sick.

It shouldn’t light a fire in your stomach. But it does.

“Y-Yeah. I can help.” You finally choke out.

Your dad smiles and gives you another pat on the back, mumbling a ‘Thanks, kid.’ before turning towards Tommy, slumped in one of the chairs you’d need.

“Get’cher ass up, boy.” Your dad laughed while tugging on his arm and helping him up, taking Tommy's body weight on his own and helping him into the house. The click of the door seems to echo through the quieting houses on the street., you and Joel sharing side glances as you’re left alone.

——

You struggled to keep up with the pace Joel set as he walked towards his house, just four houses down from your dad’s, arms filled with lawn chairs. The lawn chairs now thrown onto the porch, not taking the extra second it’d take to put them away.

He unlocked the front door in one smooth motion and pulled you in the next. He kicked the door shut, hard, with his boot.

His hands are on your hips, whipping you around until your back is pressed against the door, his hips keeping you pinned there. The quick movements pulled the air from your lungs, leaving you to gasp.

“Been teasin’ me all goddamn night.” He hissed, voice thick with frustration.

He leaned back to give his hands some space to roam over the fabric of your nurse costume, his palms warm and broad as they’d skate over the buttons.

His hands stopped at your ribs, his fingertips pressing into the bottom of your breasts.

“Flirtin’ and smilin’ at every boy who looked your way.” He spat while taking both of your wrists into one of his hands and pinning them about your head, knocking his cowboy hat off his head, somewhere behind him.

You gasped, bottom lip quivering. You needed him badly. Pent up after hours of waiting for this- for him. You force a grin, not wanting him to know how easily you’ll fold. You know he loves it, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t too.

“What’re you gonna do about it, cowboy?” You don’t even recognize the sound of your own voice with all the buzzing in your head.

He does though, and he growls in response, pushing his hips firm against yours. His thick cock straining, hard against the denim material, right up against your lower stomach for the second time today. He grits his teeth, his free hand coming to grip the collar or your dress, the warmth of his hand over the exposed skin of your breast makes you whimper.

You arch your back, pushing your chest towards him, silently begging for more contact, just more. He doesn’t give it to you just yet, hand around your wrists tightening, the one on your cheap costume ripping it open, the white buttons bouncing off of the wooden floor.

Your eyes widened as you processed, squirming under his dark stare. Under the shreds of the white dress, your body clad in the white and red, laced get up you so thoughtfully slipped on earlier.

For him.

He knows that, too.

“Gonna remind you who you belong to, pretty girl.” He says lowly, his southern drawl painfully prominent.

Before you get the chance to respond, Joel spins you around, taking your hands that were above your head and pinning them behind your back, still his single hand keeping both of yours pinned there. Your chest pressed against the cool door, the difference of your burning skin against it made you whine. Your back arched, his straining cock now pressed to your ass. Silently you tried to push your hips back onto him.

His free hand came down quickly on your ass, the stinging turning sweet as he rubbed his warm palm over the spot, soothing it.

“Joel!” You squeaked, resting your cheek against the door, face smushing just slightly, stomach turning and pulling.

“Gonna be a good girl now, hm?” He leaned over your back, his lips just dusting the shell of your ear while rocking his hips slowly into yours.

“Y-Yes, Jo-“ He cut you off with another rough smack to the same spot. A yelp bursting through your lips, body slinking back into his.

“Too late for sweet talk, baby girl.” He rasped, his hand not soothing the sting this time, letting it sit and burn your skin.

He pulled back for a moment, the weight of his body being pulled from you made you whine, missing the heavy contact. His hands made work of what was left of costume, discarding it somewhere with his now long forgotten cowboy hat.

It hit you like a ton of bricks. The fact that you’re bent over, pressed against his front door in nothing but a red laced bra, panties, the garter belt and the thigh highs they held up. Joel was still fully clothed, just his hat missing. The thought of being so exposed and vulnerable to him just made the slick between your thighs amplify.

“Fuck.” Joel growled, pushing a sharp breath through gritted teeth. His dark eyes scanned your body, the way the lace dug into the fleshy parts of your skin, thighs spilling slightly out of the tops of the stockings. The large, pink outline of his handprint adorning your ass cheek.

“Look so pretty for me like this, baby.” He muttered.

He let your hands go and you quickly pushed your palms into the door, steadying yourself.

Before you got the chance to beg for his touch, he gave it to you- just not where you needed him. Broad, calloused palms skating up your sides, then back down to rest at your hips. You closed your eyes, scrunching your nose in frustration. A quiet whine fell from your lips as you pushed against the door, grinding your hips against his throbbing cock.

“S’alright, angel. I got you.” He offered reassurance.

“Please- just. Need you. Badly.” You pleaded through soft breaths.

“Tell me where, pretty girl.” He rasped, placing a hand between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned to the door again.

His other hand reached around your torso, palming your breast for a moment, his fingers hooked around the cup of your bra and tugged down, letting your boob spill out. You whined as his fingers found your hardened nipple, his thumb and pointer finger giving it a lazy roll.

A broken whine left your lips, body squirming for any additional friction he’d offer.

“This where you need me?” He asked lowly.

You could just about hear the smirk on his stupid, beautiful, fucking face.

You shook your head.

“Gotta use your words, darlin’.” He reminds you.

“N-No. Not there.” You huffed into the door, his hand still working painfully slow at your nipple.

“So good f’me.” He praises.

In a beat it was gone, his hand trailing down your spine, stopping for a moment to admire his darkening handprint on your ass. The sight made his eyes roll back and his thick cock twitch.

“What ‘bout here?” He asked, his hand trailing further to cup your cunt.

Your knees buckled at the contact, after being teased and left all day, the final contact of his warm palm grinding against your sensitive slick was euphoric. A long string of ‘yesyesyespleaseyesthatsit’ left your lips quickly.

“Atta girl.” He muttered, almost to himself.

Your body writhed under his touch, even when there wasn’t much of it. The anticipation of it was enough.

His index finger dragged slowly up your slick panties, nudging against your covered entrance, a soft, sick, wet noise filling your ears as his finger rubbed slow, torturous circles there.

“S’all for me, angel?” He sucks his teeth sympathetically. “Poor baby, walking ‘round all day like this, huh?” He hums.

You’re embarrassed because it’s true. Even more embarrassed because of him calling you out on it, makes it worse. Heat licks at your core, right where his fingers prodding on the other side of the lace.

“For you- yes. All for you.” You pushed out quickly, your soft moans gracing his ears shortly after.

He tucked two fingers under your panties, slowly tugging them to the side, a growl rumbling deep in his chest at the sight. A thin line of your slick stretching from you to the lace, your cunt and inner thighs glistening from your arousal.

“So pretty.” He said simply, tugging your panties once to keep them out of the way, letting the web fabric snap against your skin.

You grit your teeth, the cool air hitting your wet core, walls clenching around nothing. You could almost sob at how desperately you needed him, chest heaving, heart sitting in the base of your throat, stomach wound in a tight coil.

He leaned over your back, his fingers dipping through your folds, collecting your slick and stopping at your clit.

You cried out against the door, pressing your thighs together, clamping down on his hand.

“You knew damn well what you were doin’ tonight.” He whispered against your ear, his syrupy voice soft against you.

“Paradin’ around in this little thing. Letting that fuckin’-“ His fingers worked in smaller, more concentrated circles at your clit despite your thighs clamping down. “-punk lean in real close. Like he had a chance.”

His voice was hot on your already burning skin, his words doing filthy things to the coil in your belly.

“I-I didn’t-“ You rebuttal.

“Quiet.” He spat, his tone making your breath hitch.

You became painfully aware of how large he was, how big he felt while brooding over you, fingers working at your clit, his wide chest pressed against your back, lips ghosting your ear.The sheer size of his frame against yours made your muscles spasm, a fresh gush of arousal dripping from you and into his palm.

“That's what got you this wet, hm?”

You shook your head.

“What was it then, baby?” He asked, fingers slowly to dip back into your folds, his middle finger circling your entrance before slowly pushing in, your slick allowing him to sink it deep, smoothly.

“Fuck!” You panted, walls spasming around his thick digit.

“Was it when Tommy could’ve caught us? He walked around any later, would’ve seen me fucking you right into that wall. That make your pretty pussy this wet?” His southern drawl rang against your ears, his finger pumping slowly in and out of you, his knuckles shiny with your slick.

“J-Joel, please-“ You begged breathlessly.

You were gratefully cut off by him adding his ring finger. Both of his fingers work at your core, stretching you as he bottoms out to his knuckles. You balled your fist and banged it against the door, trying to release the pent up energy buzzing around in your body.

“Or was it when I had you in the kitchen?”

Fuck.

“Your daddy just on the other side of the wall, while I had that pretty lil’ face’a yours in my hand, smearin’ that fuckin’ lipstick.” He grunted, curling his fingers deep inside you.

Every huff that left your lips ended in a moan, a whine or a plea for him. His beautiful, filthy mouth pushes you closer to your release.

He fucking knows it, too.

He is painfully aware of the effect his sultry words have on you. He weaponizes them every. fucking. time. It’s why he makes sure to let you know how beautiful you look while dripping and shaking for him, how tight, wet, hot, you feel against him, around him, for him.

Only him.

His heart skips a beat, dark eyes locked onto every subtle movement, clocking the way your body reacts. He knows those moans, increasing in volume, being drawn out towards the end. Breathless and fumbling over your own lips.

“That was it.” He states matter of factly.

“Wasn’t it baby?” His fingers twisting, curling and pumping into your wet cunt.

Your arousal pooling in his palm, dripping down his wrist and soaking into the sleeve of his flannel that's pushed up his forearm somewhere.

You swallowed thickly, almost wincing, the amount of pleasure wound in your gut painful.

“Joel I-“

“I know, baby.” He soothes you with his words, fingers giving you no mercy.

“Give it to me, baby girl. Let me feel you squeeze my fingers, yeah?”

Your eyes screw shut, rutting your hips against his fingers. His soaked knuckles brushing against your swollen clit. That swift contact was all you needed to unravel.

“J-Joel, ohfuck-“ You whined out, your fists so tight your nails pressed half moons into the fleshy part of your palm.

The coil deep in your belly snapped.

“I know. Look so pretty cummin’ around my fingers, angel face. S’good for me baby.”

Your knees buckled and he quickly wrapped his free arm around your torso, your skin white hot, supporting your entire weight like it was nothing, keeping you upright. His fingers didn’t change pace, your slick gushing around his digits. The squelching and your moans almost syncing up, all he could think about was how fucking good you felt writhing in his arms.

“I got you, pretty girl. S’okay. Doin’ so good for me.” He praised.

His thick fingers fucked you through your orgasm, your hands squabbling at the door as it became too much. He didn’t let up right away.

“Fuck-“ You’d pant. “Joel, s’too… too much.”

He smiles sweetly behind you, slowing his fingers and finally unsheathing them, a thick string of your cum webbing your cunt to his fingers.

“I know-“ He’d drawl again. “You’re alright. I got you.” He reminded you.

You whined at the loss of his digits, walls clamping around nothing now. Empty. Joel's hand cupped your pulsing heat, rubbing his hand sickeningly slowly. Your body twitched, thighs clamping shut around his hand, broken whines leaving your raw throat.

“Alright, pretty girl. Settle down.”

He removes his hand from your heat completely, smearing your slick on the inside of your thigh before grabbing your waist and slowly turning you to face him.

“There's my girl.” He spoke softly, one hand pressed to the small of your back, holding you to him while the other creeped up your body.

Your eyes were hooded, face flushed, body unsteady and shaking from the orgasm he just ripped from you. His hand cupped your cheek, cool and still slick from you. You turned your face into his palm, parting your plump lips and taking the two fingers that were just fucking you into your mouth.

His groans, eyes dark and wide while he watched your lips close around the base of his knuckles. You could taste your bittersweet cum still clinging there. His fingers prodding the hot flesh at the inside of your cheeks.

“Did so good for me, darlin’.” He reminds you.

You met his eyes, leering up to him through your thick lashes, lids still heavy. You look fucked. Completely and utterly fucked. It makes him throb to know he’s the one who made you look like this.

Mascara and eyeshadow smudged around your eye, a small trail of what looks to be a single tear spilling over one of your cheeks which are now hollowing around his fingers. He studied every small detail, eyes lingering on your mouth, lipstick barely on but just enough to leave a small stain at the base of his knuckles as he slipped his fingers out of your throat. The suction lifting with a small ‘pop’ as his hand returned to cup your cheek, pulling you in for a long, desperate kiss.

“Not done with you yet, baby.” He mumbles into your mouth.

Your lips part to sigh into his. He quickly took the opportunity to roll his tongue into yours. His kissing turned from sweet, long and slow to hungry and needy in no time. Low growls from his throat spilling against your mouth.

“Think you can give me another one?” He pulled back, looking down at you.

His face was red, a slight sheen of sweat sticky around his hairline. His dark curls plastered there, grey hairs adorning them. His hair was messy, tousled and fucking beautiful. That's how he looked. Beautiful, hungry and so fucking filthy at the same time. But god your body was fucking reeling from the first one still. He must’ve sensed your hesitation by the way your eyes widened.

“Know you can, you did so good just then angel face.” His words work overtime in your brain.

“Need to see you cum ‘round my cock. Yeah? S’that sound okay?” He hums, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and tilting your chin up, more and more pieces must have come loose during the past 20 minutes.

“Joel I don’t.. I-I don’t know if I can.” You whimper, hating how pathetic you sound. But he drinks up every bit of it.

He started shaking his head before you even finished.

“I’ve gotcha baby, don’t forget that.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before bending at his knees, wrapping his strong arms around you and lifting you up like nothing.

“Joel!” You yelped in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck, giggling into his chest.

You feel him smile against your skin. He’d kick his bedroom door open, sauntering in until his knees came in contact with his bed frame. He crouched over, letting you fall onto your back, mattress bouncing. You sprawled your arms out, his dark grey comforter, your hands balling some of the fabric into your fists. You felt vulnerable in front of him like this. This is far from the first time he has seen you in such scad clothing, but the way he loomed over your body made you feel shy. His large hands pull his flannel from his belt line, unbuttoning and slipping it off. His broad, tanned shoulders are on display. The white beater clung to his sweaty skin, belt buckle hanging at his hips. Just the sight of him made you swoon.

“Keep lookin’ at me like that.” He mutters.

You just can’t take your eyes off his body. The way his muscles flex under his skin while his hands work at unfastening his belt, the large buckle clinking against itself.

“You look so good.” You hum to him, spreading your legs further apart as he stands between them. The insides of your thighs are warming from the friction of his jeans rubbing against them.

He chuckles, pulling his belt from its loops in one quick motion. Your stomach tightens. Your hands are moving before you can notice, fingers splayed outwards, reaching for his torso. He drops the belt on the floor with a clatter. He lets you reach, even leaning down and pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of your head. You tilted your head up to pull him into a kiss that's soft at first until he sinks his teeth into your lower lip. You hissed as he pulled it back, letting it snap back to its place. The noise only made him smirk. Your hands made quick work of the button and zipper of his blue jeans. Frantically pushing them down his hips. He helps you by kicking them off with his boots.

“Joel-” He cuts you off with a kiss before pulling back and looking down at you.

“Please.” You were over his slow and calculated moves. You needed him to take you here and now.

He doesn’t answer, even when you pull his beater off and run your fingers down his torso, tugging at the band of his boxers.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He finally speaks up, voice slow and steady.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Of course you’re his. You sighed softly while nodding.

“I’m yours, Joel.”

“Repeat it.” He demands.

“I’m yours.” You obey.

“Those college boys couldn’t make you feel the way I do.” He’s not asking. It was true.

He pushes your bodies up the bed, now kneeling into the mattress, his thighs pressed into the bottoms of yours, his lips connecting with your collar.

“They couldn’t make you cum with their fingers like I can.” Another true statement.

Your legs wrapped loosely around his waist, digging your heels into the backs of his legs, coaxing his hips to make contact with yours, the throb of your cunt doing everything but dulling.

“No, only you.” You reassure him, slipping your hands to the back of his head, curling the hair at the nape of his neck around your index fingers.

“Only me.” He repeats, growling.

“You sure you know that? Was lettin’ that Cody kid hang ‘round for some time.” He continued, his lip curling at the thought.

He was jealous. Even while he was fucking his fingers into you minutes ago, he couldn’t help that quick memory of Cody holding your arm, leaning in close. The way you let him.

You knew Joel was jealous, but this made your heart skip a beat.

“You think he’d like to see you like this, hm?”

Your breath caught in your throat, shaking your head ‘no’.

“You want him to?”

“No.” You breathed out.

“Want him to hear you?” He whispered, peppering kisses across your chest, licking a fat stripe from there to the spot below your jaw, then blowing cool air over the damp skin.

You shiver and he speaks up again before you can answer.

“Want him to hear you cummin’ on my cock? Hear how wet your pussy is while I fuck you?”

You shake your head again, rocking your hips in the direction of his.

His words stirred around your brain. God, how long was he thinking about you and Cody? The five minute interaction burned permanently into Joel’s brain. He couldn’t stand looking at a boy touching you like that. That's not how you like to be touched, Joel knows how you like to be touched. Only Joel.

“That boy wouldn’t know the first thing to do with you.” He sucks a small hickey into the side of your neck.

“With this.” he mumbles against your skin, pushing his teeth into the flesh. One of his large hands cupping your sex again.

You whined at the contect, almost sure he could feel you throbbing in his palm.

“Only you, Joel.” You moaned softly.

“Damn right, darlin’.”

He couldn't contain himself anymore.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

He heard you say it a million times.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Was the only thing ringing through his ears.

He stood up quickly, pulling your panties and garter belt off, fast. Fast enough for them to burn down your legs. As good as it looked on you, he needed it off. He needed to feel your skin against his, not the scratchy lace fabric. He pulls your bra over your head, not caring how awkward it was. He needed it off. He needed you. He groaned at the sight of you beneath him, body squirming in anticipation on the bed. His cock throbbed in his boxers, pre cum staining the fabric with a wet spot.

“Please,please,please” You murmur, reaching your hands out again to push his boxers down his hips. He lets you, kicking them off the rest of the way.

He sucks a sharp breath through his teeth as his cock springs free, bobbing against his stomach. You’ve seen him plenty of times but it never mattered. His cock thick, tip red and glistening with his pre. You rolled your hips up, feeling your slick drip from your folds, flooding the comforter beneath you.

“Please what, baby?” He teases and you cuss under your breath.

As much as he loves talking you through it, he loves eliciting your voice too. No matter how broken or pathetic it may sound. Your pleading and promises ‘to be good’ drive him fucking insane.

He wraps his strong hand around the base of his cock. Dark, wiry hairs brushing his knuckles as he pumps himself. A hearty groan falling past his lips.

“Joel. I need- Please,” You breathe out.

“Fuck me, please.” You push out your words before whining.

He doesn’t say anything but position himself as close as possible to you, his thighs under yours again.

“Fuck.” He drawls, slipping the tip of his cock through your soaked cunt.

You’re white knuckling his bed spread, rocking your hips into him. He purses his lips before parting them, letting the tip of his tongue fall past them. A hot, thick drip of his saliva spilling off his tongue and onto your pussy.

The sight was fucking dirty. But him tapping the head of his cock along the spit, dragging it against your clit was downright filthy.

Quickly your hands left the sheet, squabbling at his strong shoulders before gripping them, pressing your nails into his hot skin.

“Y’look so pretty. Soaking my bed like this, baby.” He gruffs.

His words could eat you alive right now.

“Joel-” You warn him, your walls clenching around nothing, needy and weeping.

He guides the tip of his cock to your entrance, prodding there before stuffing the tip past your tight cunt. The muscles in your stomach tightens, rapid breaths breaking up your moans.

“Feel good, baby?” He swallows, trying to keep his composure.

Slowly he sinks his hips into yours, his thick cock stretching you. You wince as he bottoms out, the sharp burn making your vision blurry. Full. You felt so full of him. This is the feeling you’ve been missing for these long two weeks. No matter how hard you tried, your own fingers in your bed did no justice. You’re not sure anything would amount to the pleasure of being stuffed to the brim with his cock. His heavy, sweat sheened body hovering over yours.

You nod your head. “Y-Yes.” You babble while nodding your head sloppily.

You were grateful for the moment he gave you to adjust, the burn turning sickly sweet. Your hips rolled, now begging for friction.

“S’good, pretty girl. Y’fit my cock so good. Like you were made f’me.” He breathes while slowly drawing his hips back, and pushing them back into the hilt.

He established a paced thrust, his tongue wetting his lips in concentration, his eyes focused on how slick his cock is with you when he draws out.

You felt the air knocking out of your lungs with every thrust, whining steady pouring from the back of your throat. Your eyes rolled shut, nails pressing harshly into his shoulders. His hips didn’t slack as he pushed your hands off him, his hands pulling your legs to rest on them now, ankles on opposite sides of his shoulders. The new angle pushing him deeper in your cunt, the room filling with his grunts and the sick squelch of your arousal.

“Open your eyes. Look at me.” He grits, picking up his thrusts, the new position making his cock strain against your tight walls.

You were too drunk on his cock to listen. Your eyes still screwed shut, mouth falling open, fucking filthy sounds falling. Until you felt a sting on your cheek, your eyes opened wide, greeted with his face. His hand made contact with your cheek again, but didn’t leave it. His burning skin is boring into your reddening cheek. He grips your jaw roughly.

“Said-” He groans, hips slapping against the back of your thighs. “Fuckin’ look at me.” His dark eyes locked onto yours.

You swallowed tightly, the coil in your lower stomach binding quickly.

“Open.” He says, pressing his thumb into your lower jaw.

You whine as his thrusts cease. He’s leaning over your frame, legs still propped on your shoulders as he's practically folding you in half. You whine and open your mouth, tongue sitting on your lower lip, welcoming the string of his saliva he drips over you. It's hot on your tongue. It tastes like whiskey and him. You let your tongue display it for him, closing your lips around it when he taps your tender cheek roughly with the hand that's there, signaling you to do so. Then you swallow.

He grits at the sight, resuming his thrusts like he hadn't stopped. He's even setting a new debilitating pace, one that makes the muscles in the undersides of your thighs burn.

“Fuck, y’so good for me, baby.” His praises make your walls squeeze his cock.

The familiar pit in your stomach rumbles. You won't last long the way his hot breath tickles the inside of your ankles. The ruthless pace he set with his thrusts. The thought of his spit lingering on your tongue while he fucks you senseless.

“I-I’m close, Joel.. Fuck- Harder.” You tell him, moaning loudly.

“Yeah? Want to cum on my cock, pretty girl? Fuck-.” The hand on your cheek leaves to brush some of your hair from your face. A loving gesture while he's manhandling you otherwise. His hand settles on the top of your shoulder, giving him leverage to fuck you deeper, harder.

His free hand glides down your shin and onto your thigh, his fingers pressing harshly into your flesh. The pain dragging a breathless moan of his name from you. He could listen to that all fucking day.

You try to answer him, the words coming out as a blubbering mess. You aren’t able to think straight while hes fucking you, drunk on him.

“Squeezing my cock so good, angel face. Such a good girl.” He presses a wet, sloppy kiss to your inner ankle, the hand at your thigh wrapping around in, his broad palm splaying across your lower stomach.

Fuck.

His jaw falls slack, his own stomach churning at the feeling. The feeling of his cock pounding into you under his palm.

“Need y’to cum for me baby. Give it to me, c’mon.” He encourages you, his hand slipping lower, thumb making contact with your clit.

You can barely make out his figure, sight going white when you feel his thumb. He barely moves it, just adding pressure right above the sensitive bud. THe ruthless movement of his hips jolt your body with every thrust. He's holding out for you, he doesn’t want to finish until you’ve given him another, and he tells you just that.

“Need one more baby, know you can do it. Cum on my cock. Let me feel you.” He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold on.

You dont last any longer. He rips a second orgasm from you. Your body white hot and shaking as he fucks you through it. His name leaves your lips repeatedly, not knowing anything else in this moment other than him.

Joel. Joel. Joel.

“Fuck, yeah.” He pants. “That's a good girl. Easy. Cumming for me so- shit.” His hips sputter as he nears his own high, his thumb now working small circles on your clit, riding you through your high. “S’good. S’fucking tight- ah, fuck.”

Your body burns, muscles sore as he relentlessly fucks into you, breathing rapidly while his thumb works quick to overstimulate you. Tears welling in your eyes, threatening to spill.

“Cum in me-” The first coherent words you blurt out other than his name in a while. “F-Fill me- fuck, Joel. Please.” You pant, head turned into his wrist, teeth grazing his skin.

That was all he needed. “God- fuckin’.”

Both of his hands grabbed your hips hard, keeping you still as he fucks his hips into you, cock throbbing and twitching as he cums, thick ropes filling your cunt.

Full.

He collapsed against you, his forehead falling to yours, folding you in half again, his hips staying buried deep in you. Your legs are shaking around him.

You both stayed like that for a few beats, breaths slowing, chests no longer heaving. After another moment, Joel lifted his head, pressing soft kisses to your forehead and down your cheeks. Your body felt limp, quivering under him.

“Hey, hey.” Joel whispered after he's taken a look at you, brows knitting in concern.

“Look at me, baby.” He takes your face in both his hands, slowly slipping himself from your throbbing cunt.

Your face scrunches, still so sensitive from your last orgasm, and the feeling of being empty again makes a tear spill over your cheek.

“Talk to me, hun.” He pleads, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on your face, swiping your tears away.

You felt distant, your mind clouded. It was painful to not have him stuffed to the hilt, prodding spots so deep you’d have never known they were there. The warmth between your thighs making you whine, his spend leaking from your cunt.

“Baby, I need you to tell me you hear me.” He coo’s, hands cradling your head while he continues to pepper kisses against your skin. “Was I too much?” He blinks lovingly at you.

You sigh deeply, his continued touches to your face grounding you, your vision slowly coming back to you.

He's sweaty. His hairs stuck to his forehead. His eyebrows sewn together as he tries to read your face. He looks spent. His face is flush, features relaxing as you stir beneath him.

“Mmh.” You hum and nod your head once.

Joel lets out a sigh of relief. “I got you. Let me clean you up, angel face.”

He pulled himself off of you, steadying himself on his legs before making his way to the bathroom.

Your thighs twitch as your eyes dart around, fingers sprawling across his comforter. You turned your head to take a deep breath in, your nose filled with the smell of him.

Clean blanket, smoke and cedar.

Joel.

He returns a moment later with a warm, wet rag. “C'mere sweetheart,” He whispers, sitting in the bed next to you.

He slowly pats the warm rag against your face, cleaning the smudged and running makeup. You watched him closely. His eyes are soft, no longer harsh and black. They were big and doe like. The soft brown hue back. He gently dragged it down your neck, torso and then the insides of your thighs. You hissed, the skin there sensitive.

“Shh. S’okay. Did s’good for me. Gave me everythin’ you had. Looked so beautiful doin’ it.” He whispers, his gruff voice rolling softly from his swollen lips.

He gently wiped his spend between your thighs, turning the rag over until you were clean. He leaned over to toss it in his hamper, turning his full attention to you.

“Thank you, darlin’.” He lays on his back, pulling you into his side. You curl into him, your head nestled under his arm, nose brushing the side of his chest.

“Thank you, Joel.” You finally whisper, feeling more grounded, more present.

He chuckles, craning his neck to look at you, the arm under your head curling around your body, tracing his fingers against your skin.

“There's my girl.” he whispered into your hair.

The two of you laid there for some time, damp bodies intertwined. Joel whisperering sweet praises. Sharing sweet, soft kisses here and there.

Until your phone vibrates. You fish it from the sheets.

Dad.

Your heart drops, turning the screen to Joel and he gives a sympathetic smile.

“Hey.” You answer swiftly. Act normal. You’re not laying naked with his best friend.

“Hey, kid. Did you help Joel out?”

Your throat tightens. But you remind yourself that is what you were supposed to do. Just not how your dad thinks.

“Yes.” You blurt out bluntly.

“Well, alright.. Are you still there? Been a while. Just checkin’ on you.” He asked, voice wavering a bit. He's waiting for you to fill in the spaces so he doesn't have to ask. But you don’t.

“Nope. Left after dropping off the chairs.” You roll your eyes and Joel gives you a squeeze.

Your dad didn’t say anything. He’s asking where you are without seeming like he’s prodding.

“Went out with Cody,” You say quickly. “I’ll be out late. But not too late. I’ll be safe. I’m okay.”

You barely take a breath between your words. Joel's eyebrows lift at your mention of Cody, he's sucking his teeth quietly.

“Oh! Well-uh.. Well, alright kid. Be uh. Be safe and good y’know. Can’t leave Tommy. He’s in bad shape. Call Joel if you need anything. He won’t mind helpin’ you out.” He says, speaking just as quickly as you did.

“Okay, thanks. Bye, dad.” You hang up before he can answer, tossing your phone on the bedside table with a groan. You turned back into Joel and buried your face in his chest.

“Out with Cody, hm?” He teases, wiggling his fingers on your side.

“Did you want me to tell him I’m laid up naked next to his best friend?” You quipped.

Joel opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. He shook his head.

“Thought so.” You scrunch your nose at him, stretching up to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“Said I’d still be a while.. He told me to call you if I needed anything.” You continue, lifting yourself to straddle his lap, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips, hands splayed on his torso.

Joel sighed, sinking into the bed, one arm folding behind his head, the other resting on the top of your thigh. His eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Did he now?” He clicks his tongue.

“Said you wouldn’t even mind helpin’ me out.”

“I wouldn’t.” He chuckles, hand rubbing slowly on your thigh.

You sit there and bask in each other's smiles before his drops, his body stirring beneath yours.

“Think you can give me one more before you go, hm?” He asks, your stomach does a flip.

“Joel- no way.” You laugh, prodding a finger into his chest. “M’still sore.”

He shook his head before removing the pillow behind it.

“C’mere n’ sit on my face. Lemme kiss you better.” He muses and your face drops, trying to read his expression if he was serious or not, his hand on your thigh pulling you up his torso.

“Don't mind helpin’ you out.” He repeats your earlier words with a smirk.

✨

thank you <3

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