Comecei a acompanhar você recentemente, queria muito ver na sua escrita algo relacionado aos meninos. Fica ao seu critério o membro ou os membros, e o tema :)
não tenho uma pessoa específica em mente, mas imagino um cenário onde a reader é a namorada do bully que vive atormentado o ____ e ele "desconta" o ódio nela
quando você me enviou essa caixinha eu não conhecia o hayden muito bem, mas agora maratonei stars wars kkkkkk me sinto pronta pra escrever sobre isso com ele! Vou usar sua outra caixinha pra postar.
Tyty, eu vi, fiquei triste com isso, acho que não vai dar pra quem quer, mas vamos a luta!!!!!!!!!! e eu não vi os thunderbolts ainda, mas o povo tá dizendo que tá muitooooooo boommmm, to ansiosa
— 🫧.
agora você já viu? Desapareci por um tempo, mas tô de volta! Como você está? Saudades.
Olá! Eu sou a Karen, tenho 26 anos e a escrita é a minha forma preferida de me expressar.
Este blog é o meu cantinho para compartilhar fanfics inspiradas nos meus ídolos favoritos, além de atores, filmes e jogos que amo.
Fiquem à vontade para fazer pedidos! Adoro saber no que vocês estão interessados. Às vezes, a demanda de mensagens é grande e posso demorar um pouco para responder, mas prometo que leio tudo com carinho e fico muito feliz em criar histórias a partir das sugestões de vocês.
💌💭💌💭💌💭💌💭💌💭💌💭💌💭💌💭💌💭💌💭
Hi! I'm Karen, I'm 26 years old, and writing is my favorite way to express myself.
This blog is my little corner to share fanfics inspired by my favorite idols, as well as actors, movies, and games that I love.
Feel free to make requests! I love to know what you're interested in. Sometimes the volume of messages is high, so it might take me a while to reply, but I promise I read everything with care and am truly happy to create stories based on your suggestions.
assistiram Thunderbolts? eu tô apaixonada no bob (sentinela), mais pra frente vou escrever algo com ele. Me contem a primeira impressão do filme, eu achei muito vibes marvel do velho testamento
Summery: After this thing happened between you and your neighbour, you have been avoiding him at all costs. But one night he comes into your apartment, wanting to fix something he thinks it’s broken so he can see you again. Aka..he finally fucks reader😌
Warnings: 18+, Angst, praise kink, overstimulation, size kink, squirting, slight breeding kink, slight daddy kink, fingering, big cock joel, pinv, pet names, big age gap! (reader is 25-26ish and Joel is 60), switching between POV’s, hair pulling, Dom/Sub undertones, Mean!joel, but also Soft, joel mocks reader, really sensitive reader, darcyphilia, kinda naive reader, kinda pervy!joel
A/N: I didn’t think pt.1 was gonna do so well that people would ask me for pt.2🤭 i’m so thankful, but especially to @keseqna because they gave me the idea!! <3 I don’t know how to do a Masterlist so all my blurbs/writings are under #des1rewrites !!
“…Not want your annoying little ass anywhere near my apartment anymore, s‘that clear?“
This sentence has been stuck in your head, repeating over and over since the last interaction you had with joel. But not just in your head but somehow also in your heart too. Like a sharp blade, stinging you constantly, whenever it gets quiet and you remember what happened. Whenever you see him on the apartments hallway, completely ignoring you, sting. The times you come on your fingers, with that scenario in mind, imagining his hands gripping your skin, the texture of his jeans underneath you, the sweet pet names, sting. Because you bring to mind how he mocked you, how he looked at you and how he didn’t want to have anything to do with you after that.
You felt embarrassed, ashamed and hurt. First, you didn’t know what got into you on that day. Second, it would’ve been much more easier to handle this guilt afterwards if he was young and wasn’t living right next to you. His age turned you on, the roughness of it all. The manliness that comes with handling everything himself, demanding personality and the stern nature. But he was much older than you and you knew all the risks that came with dating much older men.
You didn’t know yourself like this. Being struck by a man, completely forgetting morals and self respect and just going dumb, while he mocks you. And then riding his thigh because he showed you one second of his soft side. Maybe he was just hurt? Maybe he was just joking around?
You slapped your hands on top of your face, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to overcome the sense of embarrassment. Apparently you were too naive and you also knew that you still wanted him. That you could not turn it off, you could not just ignore the throbbing between your legs, you could not ignore the attraction you felt for this man. He didn’t want you, he made it clear. But gave you a taste of what to except from him and left you with longing for more.
—
Joel wasn’t doing well either. The guilt was butchering him, it was unbearable and the fact that you really stopped with all of your annoying greetings and random visits made his stomach turn just more. Hell, they were not annoying. He was just being dramatic, messing with you. He knows that he is grumpy, he knows that he is annoyed with everything and maybe not the most nice human being but how could he? Since he lost his daughter he could not feel an ounce of happiness. He locked himself up from the rest of the world and let nobody in, wanting to protect his already broken heart and just live his life. In peace.
You come here with all that happy and quirky attitude, caring for him and being all joyful. He didn’t need that right now, he wasn’t— heck, he wasn’t ready for that. But deep down he knew that you didn’t deserve that. Even if the mean behaviour got you gushing like a faucet, it okey for him to call you annoying and that he didn’t want you near his apartment again. You are living alone, what if you need something? Advice, an open ear? Food? Something he has to fix? …to cum again?
Whenever he saw you he excepted a little ‘hello’, a smile, a something. Your face lacked any expression, your body moving fast to open the door and get in before he has to stand there with you. After that he realised what kind of damage he had done.
The day he let you ride his thigh was unusual, he was going to fix the damn fridge and would be out of there in 10 minutes. Then he saw how restless you were, leg shaking, eyes glassy and thighs clenching. Poor girl, he thought to himself. Was him sitting there and trying to read the instructions making you this restless? It was surprising, but nothing that he wasn’t excepting as he always saw how you looked at his arms or torso whenever he was outside, packing his car or when you visit him. He knew you needed to get it out of your system once in a lifetime to leave him alone, but what if he needed it also?
It was also crystal clear that he wanted you. I mean who wouldn’t? Pretty thing like you, swaying your hips from left to right, always trying your best to have manners and be nice, sweet doe eyes and a beautiful smile. He felt guilty, he was old, too old to be in your business, he would ruin you. It was killing him getting off on his fist with the thought of you and only you.
It was the middle of the night and you woke up at 2am, feeling this need and throbbing between your legs. Again. Your sleepy state of mind didn’t do much of thinking as you slide your hands down to your panties and started to rub your clit, eyes closed and lazily. The wetness spreading through your folds as you tiredly moan into the quiet room. Hips bucking in the need of wanting something more, something that leaves you as satisfied as the day your fridge broke. Joel.
You finger rubs faster with every breath that you take, the squelching sounds of your wetness getting more and more louder, just like your moans. Flashes of joel come up in your mind, the beautiful brown eyes, big strong shoulders, his rough hands and beautiful hair coaxing you into your orgasm as you start to cry out his name into the night until— a knock on your door.
You sit up as quick as you never did, the tiredness long gone, you wipe your fingers on your panties. Eyes widen you ask yourself who the hell it that is knocking on your door at this hour. Your pulse still high from your stolen orgasm going higher because now you are kinda scared.
Standing up slowly, you move to your door. Gently listening, trying to figure out if there was really someone standing there. But you could hear nothing.
You opened the door slowly, peeking trough the small gap and seeing him standing there. Hands on his hip, jacket and jeans still on. You swallowed, what the hell was he doing here in the middle of the night? Why was he still wearing his work clothes and looked like he was sweating? Your eyes widened just more, he was the last person you excepted on your doorstep.
“Open up, girl. S’just me.” He muttered, clearly trying to keep his voice down, not wanting to disturb your other neighbours.
“What do you want?” You whispered quickly through the gap, earning a sigh, his hand running through his curls.
“Just need to talk about something, open up. It’s important”
The confusion grew just bigger and bigger while in the pit of your stomach fear start to spread. Did he hear you?
you slowly backed off and opened the door for him. His huge frame didn’t change a bit, he just looked at you, the familiar brown eyes scanning you from head to toe. Your cheeks flushed, realising what you are wearing. The thin white silky nightgown you just bought, under that just your panties.
His breath hitched as he saw you like this. Your head was looking down, your arms nervously playing with the hem of your gown and if the moon didn’t shine trough the window, thank god it did, he couldn’t see your perked up nipples and the little panties you wore, the dress just barely covering your thighs. He was about to lose his god damn mind.
You looked up to him baffled, how he had the audacity to come to your apartment after telling you that he didn’t want you anywhere near his apartment.
“Uh, how ya’ doin’ girl?” You could hear the uncertainty in his voice. He looked around the room, his eyes always falling to your body, but looking quickly away but you noticed.
“What do you mean how am I doing? I’m trying to sleep?” You exclaimed, clearly getting frustrated and unpatient, crossing your arms on your chest.
“Yea, yea. You’re right. Disturbed ya huh?”
What the hell was he even talking about? Was he drunk? Did he really hear you? your nervous system almost falling apart at the thought of him hearing you moan his name at the night and him coming to you to ask you about it.
“Steve called me. Said there is something goin’ on with the sinks and the pipes, need’ta have a look.”
Steve, the landlord of this apartment complex. Something about this story wasn’t adding up, he looked so unsure, looking trough the room, avoiding your eyes.
“Steve? Called you? In the middle of the night?” You asked suspicious, his eyes landing on you.
“Yes, in the middle of the night because it’s an emergency, girl. Now if you would let me just quickly look into your bathrooms sink, I will leave the princess alone so she can get her beauty sleep.” His voice was rough, like he just woke up from his sleep. And that tone, annoyed and acting like he knows it all, no one should contradict him. So stubborn.
You looked at him up and down, something still wasn’t adding up. This was sure not a very logical story. Why couldn’t steve just call you? Why was he sending joel? And whatever is going on with the pipes, you definitely didn’t notice anything different while doing your nightly routine. So what was all of this about?
He sighed.
“Girl, listen. Ain’t happy about being here too, but I gotta look into this, promise I leave as soon as possible”
Deep down you were somehow happy to that he was here. His presence felt warm and the scolding and annoying tone felt familiar, like nothing happened between you two. But of course your body was betraying you once more, the aching and stolen orgasm from earlier was still present. Like an uninvited guest, pushing you further and further into an uncomfortable situation that you didn’t want to repeat again.
“Okey, come with me”
Joel didn’t know what the hell he was doing here. Not a single brain cell acted with caution in this scenario, not one thought came into his mind that told him it was a bad idea. He heard you moaning out his name.
Again.
He hears it every god damn night and it drives him absolutely mad. There is this little angel laying in her bed, desperately pushing her small fingers into her cunt, knowing it’s not enough, aching and begging for him and something more, for something bigger and something that full fills her completely. His cock throbbing like it hadn’t in the last 20 years, his heart aching, just wanting to be there and fill you to the brim, fuck you thoroughly and good just the way you deserve.
So he had enough, knocking on your door in the middle of the night like a mad man. His story dumb and not logical and if you were to ask a little more about that he probably would’ve run away in embarrassment. The sight of your small frame in that little tiny silk dress made it all worth it for him tho.
“Sorry, s’a mess in here. Not excepted any visitors.”
You stood there in your small bathroom, showing him your sink and he immediately got into his knees looking for the pipes underneath.
“S’okey. Not used to seeing something else anyways.” He chuckled but you didn’t smile nor did you make any expression because you were still mad at him.
He looked through the pipes and you looked at his board shoulders and back. But after a while it seemed to you like he didn’t know what he was doing. He just rolled the tubes around, inspecting them like they were showing signs of something wrong but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Agonising 5 minutes you stood there behind him, your back against your washing mashing and him still not doing anything but just inspecting and touching the pipes. You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?
He turns around, looks at your eyebrows pinched and his gaze fall on your body. The bathroom was well lit so now everything was on display, your gown being see through and the cold in the night making your nipples hard, the patch of wetness visible on your panties.
Joel was about the lose it. He clenched his jaw, his eyebrows furrowing just more, his mouth going dry and the bulge in his pants making him uncomfortable, he could no longer deny the fact that he just came here because he wanted to see you—see you and totally take care of you.
“Can hear ya always, y’know?”
Your heart dropped, goosebumps spread all over your body as you looked at him dumbfounded. Completely loss at words as he just chuckled at your reaction.
“The walls are thin, sweetheart.”
Warmth spreading across your panties, a little gush. Your cheeks heated and red, you looked down, embarrassment washing down on you. Not only he was aware of your attraction to him, but also the way he had an influence on you and your body. Like he knew it like the back of his hand, knew what buttons to push to make you silent pliant doll for him.
Apparently that’s why he was there and somehow, you were happy. Somehow the deep embarrassment was leaving slowly by slowly and you completely wanted to give yourself to him, let him take the lead and do whatever he wanted with you.
Joel stood up, his tall frame caging you. His rough hand slowly landing on your hip, squeezing the flesh and earning a yelp from you. His tobacco and whiskey tinted smell clouding your mind once more, the desperation transforming to need.
You looked up to him while his hand explored your body, squeezing there and there, landing on your tits, massaging them roughly while giving extra attention to your perked up nipples, gently pulling them and pinching them. Your head fell into his chest, whining at the feeling on your breasts. He cooed into the room.
“Poor fucking, baby. Poor baby, got you so fuckin’ needy. Yea, got you so fucking needy baby.”
You felt like crying at how much needy he got you. His hands left your tits, gently grabbing your neck, then your hair tugging at it, making you look up to him with glassy eyes and a pleading look.
This is what he wanted to see. This fucked out look, lips swollen, eyes glassy and full of desperation and he didn’t even do anything yet. So easy to get worked up, so responsive to his touch.
He gently neared his lips to yours, you eagerly connecting them, kissing them with a whine. He was caught off guard but figured it out as the kiss intensified, his hands still in your hair, he made a pony tail tugging at it whenever you became too desperate, nearly bitting his lips off.
As he pulled away, you whined, always whining for his touch and his guidance. He looked at you for a good moment before tugging again on your hair making it fall back, revealing your neck to him. He hungrily kissed every inch of your cleavage, sucking marks there and on your neck. The impatience was growing, as you started to move around too much he pulled your hair again and strategically put his knee between your legs.
“Fucking desperate. How the hell am I supposed to work with this huh? Fidgety little girl. What are you gonna do when I bounce you on my cock? Gonna break it in half hm?”
“Nuh uh” you cried out, his knee starting to rub your cunt again just like the day he wanted to fix your fridge. His hands were still tugging your hair as you slowly get off to his knee, him just fixated on you, eyebrows pinched, completely mesmerised by your pleasure.
“Nah baby. We gotta set some rules. You wanna keep doin’ that, i’ll leave you with nothing. It’s either listening to me or I have you unsatisfied crying in your bed because your little fingers are not enough for you to get off.”
You nodded instantly, pausing your movements on his knee and looking at him as he let your hair free and slowly moved to the strings of your gown. Letting them fall down your arms and revealing your tits to him. He immediately latched on to your left nipple sucking and biting while you were controlling yourself not to buck on his knee.
“You do what I say when I say it, we clear?” He asked, your tit leaving his mouth with a pop.
“Yes”
“Repeat it.”
“I do everything you say when you are saying it.” You obediently repeated him, looking into his darkened eyes waiting for him to answer.
But he had other plans.
You yelped out as he unexpectedly hooked two fingers into you. You couldn’t even comprehend in what time he pulled down your panties and slid his hands down there. He groaned as you harshly tugged on his arms, making him closer then he already is, pressing you more into the washing machine behind you.
His fingers made a squelching sound whenever he drew them out and plugged them back in. Silent moans leaving your mouth, his fingers way bigger than his. It was stretching you, such an unusual feeling, hitting just the right spots you didn’t even know their existence about.
Sure you had sexual encounters before but none of these people ever took their time to really pleasure you.
Joels hand was dripping with your juices, it soaked his fingers full but he didn’t stop thrusting them into your cunt, not even when you shook your head from side to side babbling something about toomuch t-toomuch.
His gaze never left yours as he fucked you open, sometimes scissoring and curling them in you.
“Shh, shh. That’s it. Crying on two fingers already, how are you gonna take my cock hm? Have to stretch you out properly.”
Your fists were weakly banging on his chest as your body moved up and down on his fingers, your hips sitting on top his leg and back against the machine behind you. Your tits gently moving along the thrusts, he enjoyed the show, his face smug and knew that the pleasure was unbearable for you.
He pressed the palm of his hand on your clit, gently stimulating it while your legs completely shook, your body gone limb as you cry out into the bathroom cumming all over his fingers. Joel’s fingers slowed down but still going in a good rhythm so you could ride out your orgasm properly.
Your breathing was still coming in quick, you laid your head on his chest and started to calm down.
“Talkin’ about too much. Little cunt s’gonna take more than that now, baby.”
“Mhm, please” you whined into his shirt, his fingers were still inside you, not moving, just gently feeling the pulsing and clenching of your cunt. The mess you made on his hand was still dripping down.
He took your hair into his fist again and tugged you back. It was hard for him to control himself when you looked like this, he didn’t even do much. One orgasm and you were trembling. Eyes red and swollen because you cried, cheeks still wet and mouth full of drool. What was he gonna do to you on his cock? Break you apart?
“Fucking hell, drooling and crying all over yourself. Look at ya. Pretty fucking girl” he kissed the your tears away, kissing your forehead, your chin and then your lips again. You lazily kissed him back, the energy and eagerness already slowed down with the release, you were floating.
You suddenly broke the kiss, crying out, feeling his fingers going in and out of your cunt again. He chuckled, tugging at your hair and pulling you into the kiss again. There was no time to think for you, he was overstimulating you every second. It was so sensitive that tears started to form in your eyes again.
“Mhph—please. Not again.” You whined shaking your head escaping his kiss.
He mockingly pouted at you, slowing down with his fingers.
“Gonna replace it with my cock and show you what to cry and pout about, hon. S’that what you want? Without proper stretching? Poor cunt would get all achy, baby.”
You wanted him to fuck you, truly. But at what state this was going, it would probably hurt a lot. So you listened to him and let him finger you again, your pussy clenching releasing gush after gush. You bit your lips as he started going faster and harder again, body moving up and down as you buried your face into his neck, now fully sobbing at the overwhelming stimulation.
“Just one more, c’mon angel. Cum on my fingers, show me you can take my cock”
You bit down his jacket, this one coming very tingly, stronger than the first one but more releasing, like a relief washing over you. You bucked your hips into his fingers, him holding you and sitting you down on the washing machine finally. With his other hand he rubbed your back up and down, while he slowed down with his pumping in your cunt.
“Atta girl, s’what i’m talking about. Always listening to me.”
He grazed over your little clit with his palm once, twice as you let the aftershocks of your orgasm settle in. You didn’t even notice when he picked you up and went to your bedroom.
He gently laid you down on your bed, your head completely clouded, legs spread as you burrowed your face into one of your pillows, humming.
“What a sight. Pretty girl on her pretty bed, swollen wet cunt on display, clenching on nothing.”
Joel took his jacket off while speaking, then his jeans dropped down, seeing his hard bulge absolutely leaking his shorts full. It was truly a miracle how he didn’t already cum in his pants while fingering you.
The bed weighted down as you felt him get on top of you, putting the pillow away from you and looking at you like a little puppy.
“Hi.” You squeaked.
“Hi, baby. Already getting tired on me?”
You shook your head. “No, jus’ feel good”
He chuckles at that, kissing all over your face and peking your lips.
“Now you gonna feel even better, honey.” you looked down seeing his huge cock out, angry leaking tip, twitching and releasing pre cum all over. His tip was huge and the rest of it girthy and big, and on the end there was his salt and pepper bush, covering him all over.
“S’huge” your worried eyes found him as he slowly started to jerk off his cock, squeezing the tip lightly making it ooze some precum out.
“Yea, that’s why. I told ya.”
Your cunt was begging for him to finally fuck you, but you were still worried that it might hurt you.
“Gonna take care of you, don’t worry baby. S’okey.”
His reassuring words made you feel safe, warm and bubbly, you loved his soft side. His mean side was hot but this side you preferred more. You gently run your head through his curls, tugging him for a kiss. He hummed into the kiss, deepening it, his cock slowly starting to stretch you out.
“When you want us to stop baby—fuck. Ya just scream red, s’ that clear?”
“I scream red, yes.” You repeated him just like he told you, earning a kiss on your forehead for that and a little good girl.
At first it was a slight stretch and sting that made you mewl into his lips, but he hushed you, slowly feeding his cock into you, slightly pulling out and doing the same again.
You pulled away from his lips with a cry, tears starting to form in your eyes as he gently held your left cheek, whispering sweet nothings, looking into your eyes. His other hand coming on your little button, swollen from the previous releases, he starts to rub you gently.
Your whimpers turn into little moans as you clench down on his cock that’s only is halfway in there.
“Doing so well, honey.” He whispered “so so well.” and that with another rub on your clit was all it took for you to come on his cock again. This was the most powerful one. Your whole body shook as you buried your head into the pillows on top of you and joel making holding you close to him, as you ride out your orgasm. He grunts, trying not to cum with you clenching down on his dick hard.
Joel takes the chance to fully insert himself into you while you were still dealing with the climax, face still buried in the pillow, the moans filling the room, he loved every second of it. Turned you into a crying mess. Daddydaddydaddy you whimpered into out, his eyes widened, a deep growl coming from him, his cock in you throbbing with need.
He felt absolutely feral, he didn’t give you time to adjust you on his cock and placed his hands on your waist, slowly but surely thrusting in and out of you, your gushing heat perfectly hugging him and the lots of cum you already released mixing perfectly with his pre cum, making it easier to just hold you and fuck into you.
This is what you needed. You were always imagining this scenario in your head whenever you got off, imagining him taking care of you, handling you and making you feel safe in his arms.
“Was right with stretching you out huh? Look how easy you are taking this cock in you, baby.”
He held your neck, pulling you away from the pillows, making you slightly sit up and watch how his shaft is disappearing completely in and out. You whined, legs shaking as you tried to escape from his grip so you could burrow your face into the pillow again, but he didn’t let you.
“Nuh uh, watch how i’m fucking ya.” He growled, his hips never slowing down on you, your cunt feeling too good, too tight. He never wanted to stop.
“Always with the tears. Just crumbling all over daddy’s dick. S’what you are good for, dumb little girl like you”
So he kept fucking you.
In and out, In and out.
The matress underneath you completely soaked with your mess, one of his hands patiently rubbing your clit while the other one wiping your tears away. His lips always grazed yours, placing kisses all over your neck, suckling, knowing you are going to be all bruised up tomorrow.
“Please—gonna—daddy.” you cried out, his cock leaving your pussy as you squirted into his torso, your body shaking, legs going numb and your face completely sobbing.
“Fuck, angel. Keep going baby.” He kept rubbing at your little nub, while you released gush after gush, your body completely exhausted at this point, going limb on the mattress. It was unbelievable, you never squirted before and it felt like heaven came down on you. The pleasure was unbearable at this point, your cunt completely overstimulated, swollen and red. You looked up to him, breathing heavily you saw him jerking off his cock, dangerously close to your pussy. He wasn’t going to fuck you one more time right?
“S’too much”
“Y’know what to say, when it’s really too much.” He sternly told you, holding his hand on your chin making you look into his eyes. You nodded, mouth dry not having the energy to repeated anything right now. Luckily he accepted that.
Your body completely bucked and shook as you felt his cock entering you once more. Your fists tried to fight him off, but there was no use. He began thrusting again, he held your face in his hands and just stroked the tears away.
“Shh sh. None of that. C’mon now, with daddy. One more.”
He fucked you absolutely without slowing down. Your throat was hurting at how much you were sobbing and pleading him no. But he wasn’t letting up.
“What if I fill ya up hm? Make this belly full.”
You shook your head, eyes widening as he chuckled.
“People—the people are gonna talk. Would kill you”
“Yeah baby? They would kill me? For filling you up, making you a mama? What if we test that theory out hm?”
You couldn’t help but clench, his smugness turning you on, the way he insisted doing whatever he pleases, your mind going to the morning after pill you still had in one of your drawers. The relief washing over you, as you buried your face into his neck, feeling his thrusts getting messier and messier.
Your nipples were rubbed raw on his shirt, your hands tugging at his curls, his lips attaching them on your neck. He was growling and moaning into your ear, you’ve never heard something hotter.
“S’that what you wanted? Old man fucking you, filling you up, making you his hm? Taking care of you. Just like the little pillow princess she is” your hips bucked up to him, matching his thrusts, you were close.
“Please— s’what I wanted uh huh, yes” you nodded your head quickly, feeling his lips forming a smile on your neck.
His thrusts grew sloppier and sloppier and as you felt his muscles clench and one of his hand sneaking down, starting to rub at your poor sensitive clit again.
“C’mon with me, baby. One last time, cum for daddy angel.”
This one was more soft and more loving than the other ones because you guys came together, you clenched down on his dick while he released in you, filling you up.
He grunted into your ear while slowly and surely he was done, his cock growing soft in you. You kissed him on the cheek, making him look up to you. His face was exhausted pretty brown eyes droopy and lips were swollen. Now he was the one who truly looked fucked out. He smiled to you, feeling tiredness overcome him as he softly buried his face into your neck and closed his eyes. You stroked his curls, his back making him hum. And then you heard snoring coming, knowing he fell asleep.
“Poor old man.” You closed your eyes too, satisfied.
That was A LOT. I hope this somehow makes up for tomorrow’s episode (i’m not ready). Again, feedback is gladly appreciated, i’m still new to writing. i’m so happy that lots of people liked the first part and now I have almost 200 followers which is crazy! 😭🤭
Thank you for all the people reading and especially for the people who wanted a pt. 2! @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @iamsherlocked-1998 @viicwz @jasminedragoon @pedroswife69
gente, eu odeio a JK Rowling (por motivos óbvios), mas queria que alguém desse vida aos marotos, sem ser ela, alguém de preferência com cérebro pq eu sou viciada nos marotos, daí ontem eu tava pensando num cast perfeito pros marotos (considerando a idade de 17 até 25).
o que vocês acham? se caso fosse ter uma adaptação sem ser com a escrota da jk, vocês acham que esses atores seriam legais?
O personagem do Sirius tem essa vibe mais anos 90 rockstar e eu achei que o Felix mallard se encaixaria bem
O Remus na minha cabeça sempre vai ser o Louis Hofmann, acho que podiam trabalhar bem umas cicatrizes no rosto dele e ficaria perfeito (é o meu favorito)
Michael Cimino é o tiago (james) perfeito, eu não mudaria NADA nesse ator e ele é a cara do tiago.
Pedrinho (me julguem mas eu gosto dele) poderia ser interpretado pelo jeramy ray que atende bem as características físicas do nosso traidor favorito.
E a Sophia Lillis como a Lily evans (eu poderia falar Saide sink mas acho que ela não se encaixa tão bem)
gente, eu odeio a JK Rowling (por motivos óbvios), mas queria que alguém desse vida aos marotos, sem ser ela, alguém de preferência com cérebro pq eu sou viciada nos marotos, daí ontem eu tava pensando num cast perfeito pros marotos (considerando a idade de 17 até 25).
o que vocês acham? se caso fosse ter uma adaptação sem ser com a escrota da jk, vocês acham que esses atores seriam legais?
O personagem do Sirius tem essa vibe mais anos 90 rockstar e eu achei que o Felix mallard se encaixaria bem
O Remus na minha cabeça sempre vai ser o Louis Hofmann, acho que podiam trabalhar bem umas cicatrizes no rosto dele e ficaria perfeito (é o meu favorito)
Michael Cimino é o tiago (james) perfeito, eu não mudaria NADA nesse ator e ele é a cara do tiago.
Pedrinho (me julguem mas eu gosto dele) poderia ser interpretado pelo jeramy ray que atende bem as características físicas do nosso traidor favorito.
E a Sophia Lillis como a Lily evans (eu poderia falar Saide sink mas acho que ela não se encaixa tão bem)
oi, Tyty, você anda sumida, tudo bem com você? se alimentando bem? tudo bem com a faculdade? saudades de você ♥️
— 🫧.
oi, amor! tô nas provas finais de umas três cadeiras do semestre e me inscrevi pra um projeto de iniciação científica aqui de Porto Alegre… tô nervosa pq só 250 alunos da minha universidade vão passar e etc!
oi minha diva ♡ já pensou em talvez escrever alguma coisinha com um jaemin bem cara de pau implorando por bct daquele jeitinho bem canalha safado dele(🤤) porque ele e a pp começaram a ficar recentemente e ele deixou pra trás seus jeitos de vagabundo putão e tá doido só por ela (por favor eu te imploro
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫 | 𝐍𝐚 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧
“você e Jaemin trabalham no mesmo café, e depois do café — ou melhor, do chá que você serviu — ele se rendeu completamente a você.”
ⓘnotas | eu tava há muitooo tempo querendo escrever isso, mas não sabia como, daí pensei em algo hoje e deu certo, espero que você goste dyva e perdão pela demora 🙏
Você sempre gostou de flertar no trabalho. Havia algo absurdamente excitante em trocar olhares e sorrisinhos enquanto você e Jaemin preparavam cafés americanos lado a lado. Ele costumava anotar os números no auxílio pra segurar os copos quentes, sorrir largo demais pros clientes enquanto perguntava a forma de pagamento. Mas isso mudou. Ele ainda era gentil como sempre, mas agora, os sorrisos galantes e os olhares doces tinham um único destino: você. Todos os dias, em todos os momentos possíveis. Ficava triste nos seus dias de folga, e você também sofria quando era o dia dele. Estavam rendidos.
— Ai, que nojo. Vão pra um motel, que saco — resmungou Jeno, fazendo careta ao flagrá-los aos beijos na cozinha — não a dos pãezinhos e biscoitos, mas aquela em que vocês tiravam o intervalo. Fotos da equipe decoravam a mini geladeira e o quadro que você comprou especialmente pra dar um toque mais pessoal.
Jaemin riu com o comentário, mas não deixou barato: te deu mais alguns beijos indecentes, com muita língua de propósito, e você riu com a boca colada na dele, enquanto Jeno saía resmungando palavras ininteligíveis.
— Vê se não esquece a fornada de biscoito de goiabada que você deixou lá no forno, tá? Tá com a chave? — perguntou ele, já com a jaqueta jeans no corpo.
Você se afastou minimamente de Jaemin, ainda ofegante, a pele vermelha do calor entre vocês.
— Tô sim.
— Tô vazando antes que vocês encenem um pornô — ele soltou, indo embora.
— Pode deixar, Neno... vou tomar cuidado onde eu gozo — Jaemin respondeu com um sorrisinho sacana. Você riu e deu um soquinho leve no braço dele, que fingiu dor dramática só pra te puxar de volta. Os beijos recomeçaram, suaves e provocantes, alternando entre carinho e desejo, até ele te beijar com mais intenção, língua incitando, bagunçando sua boca.
Foram tateando às cegas até o balcão do café fechado. Jaemin te empurrou com mais força do que deveria e você gemeu — não de prazer.
— Merda, desculpa — ele murmurou, se afastando rapidamente pra tirar a jaqueta de couro. Você negou com a cabeça, sorrindo.
— Tá tudo bem.
Ele sorriu também, pendurou a jaqueta e pegou o avental com o nome bordado bonitinho. Retirou a forma do forno — biscoitos de coração — e os colocou sobre o balcão. Você o puxou com doçura.
— Tá tão apaixonadinho assim?
— Me diz você. Duas semanas atrás cê me chamava de cachorro, agora me chama de amor na sua cama.
Você revirou os olhos, sem argumentos. Era verdade. Jaemin te enlaçou de novo, rosto no seu pescoço, beijando e chupando a pele com carinho. Sua cabeça girou, a respiração falhou. A mão dele desceu até a barra da sua saia branca. Não era curta... mas definitivamente também não era inocente. Ele a levantou, brincando. E você não impediu.
— A gente tem que provar os biscoitos... mas eles precisam esfriar, né? — ele murmurou no seu ouvido. Você assentiu. — Então me diz... vestiu essa sainha pra facilitar quando eu for te chupar?
— Não só pra isso — você provocou, segurando o rosto dele entre as mãos. Jaemin sorriu, encantado. Te beijou mais uma vez, com um romantismo desarmante que contrastava com a tensão elétrica entre vocês. E era esse contraste que te fazia cair cada vez mais.
— Aqui tem câmera? — você sussurrou, já sabendo que, se ele dissesse que sim, você hesitaria... mas não muito.
Ele negou com a cabeça e, já de joelhos, te lançou um olhar que te fez tremer.
— Foda-se, se tiver, eu apago a gravação.
Seu coração errou o compasso. Você se apoiou no balcão quando ele desceu sua saia até os tornozelos. Respirou contra sua pele, lambeu os próprios lábios. Você quase gozou só de imaginar a cena. E nem havia começado.
— Olha pra mim — ele pediu, puxando sua calcinha devagar. — Quero que você veja como eu te como direitinho.
Você tentou sorrir, mas arfou quando a língua dele tocou você. Segurou as bordas do balcão, as pernas se abriram por reflexo. Ele te explorava com a boca, firme, dedicado, e você só queria dar mais espaço, abrir mais, deixar que ele fizesse tudo o que quisesse. Ele se afastou só por um instante e você resmungou pela perda. O rosto dele... vermelho, suado, molhado... era tão bom quanto você tinha imaginado.
Então ele se tocou.
Com uma mão, acariciava o próprio pau. A outra segurava firme sua coxa. Você o puxou de volta, pelo cabelo, e ele gemeu com o rosto encostado em você.
— Porra de buceta gostosa... caralho — ele resmungou, babando na sua coxa. Quando você levou os dedos ao próprio clitóris, ele despertou do transe. Não podia deixar você sozinha.
A língua voltou, recolhendo cada gota. E a mão dele acelerava no pau com tanta força e tesão que dava pra ouvir o barulho molhado. Você gozou primeiro, mas ele logo veio atrás, desabando contra você, te abraçando com desespero. Era como se você fosse a única coisa que o mantinha vivo.
Ele te beijou dezenas de vezes antes de subir até sua boca. Fez questão de esfregar a língua na sua pra você sentir seu próprio gosto. A calça dele manchada de esperma te fez sorrir.
Jaemin curvou o corpo, pegou um biscoito e levou até sua boca. Você fez um pequeno show, lambendo e chupando o dedão dele antes de aceitar o doce.
— Tá gostoso? — ele perguntou, com o mesmo tom de carinho de quem te ama de verdade, mesmo que nunca tenha dito.
Você mastigou, sorrindo.
— Não sei. Minha língua ainda tá com meu gosto.
Ele te beijou de novo, pressionando o corpo no seu como se quisesse te preencher ali mesmo.
— Nananinanão — ele sussurrou, te beijando como um namorado apaixonado. — Esse sabor é só meu.
“You’re gonna stop pretendin’,” he growls. “Stop actin’ like this don’t mean nothin’. Not when you’re so fuckin’ wet I could slide into you right now without even tryin’.”
Pairing: dbf!Joel x female reader
Summary: Joel’s been missing you. So much so, he plans a whole work event just to get his hands on you. When you spend most of your time laughing with his brother, Joel finds an excuse to get you alone, and makes it clear exactly who you belong to.
Tags: *SMUT!! MDNI - age gap (24/45), dad’s best friend, cursing, consumption of alcohol, angst!!, jealous, possessive joel, *unprotected p in v sex.
Wc: 7.7k
Authors note: uhhh hell yeah we’re fuckin’! finallyyyyy. once again thank you so much to all the love on this series so far. as always any feedback and a reblog goes such a long way, i can’t explain how much i love your reactions and thoughts and getting to engage with u all! enjoy, let’s get laid!! ✨
dividers by @saradika-graphics 🖤
It’s eight-thirty in the morning, and the heat is already oppressive.
Bright honey sunbeams lick at the back of your neck as you sit at the breakfast table, legs pulled up, your headphones sat snuggly over your ears, head absently bobbing to the beat flowing through them.
The back door is wide open, drenching the kitchen in a golden glow that stretches across the floor, climbs up the legs of your chair and warms your fingers as you brush the crumbs from your half eaten toast back onto the plate.
Even through your music, you can hear the dull rumble of your dad pushing the lawnmower back and forth over the grass in the yard in his usual determined silence, lost in another tranquil weekend chore.
It’s oddly soothing, in a way that tugs at fading childhood memories.
You sigh softly, letting yourself melt back against the chair, head tipping back as you let the sunlight pour over your face.
Your eyes fall closed as you hum under your breath, soaking up how everything feels easy, peaceful for the first time in weeks.
And for a fleeting moment, everything remains perfect.
Until -
One side of your headphones suddenly pulls back, snapping back against your ear with enough force to startle you upright.
“What the fuck - ” you yell, almost spilling your coffee as your eyes fly open.
Your eyes immediately land on Joel, leaning all too casually against the edge of the table with an infuriating, smug smirk plastered on his face.
“Mornin’, sweetheart.”
Your heart slams against your ribs, both from the startling intrusion and… well, him.
He looks good. Too good.
Worn jeans and a soft grey t-shirt clinging to his frame just a little too well, a light sheen of sweat lacing the hair at his temples.
You scowl at him, lowering your headphones around your neck. “You scared the hell outta me, asshole.”
Joel chuckles, his eyes amused as they trace over your flustered expression.
“Didn’t mean to,” he murmurs, though the grin on his lips tells you otherwise.
You raise an eyebrow skeptically, your pulse still racing as you reach to pause your music. “Oh yeah, you look real sorry, Miller.”
“Maybe I just like seein’ you get all worked up.” he shrugs, leaning more comfortably against the table.
You try not to smile, but it’s pointless.
It’s been over a week since you’ve seen him properly, his shifts with your dad running late into the evenings while they make the most of the long stretches of summer daylight.
It’s left little room for the two of you to be close like this, intimate in a way that extends beyond an awkward hug goodbye with your dad looming close behind.
“Didn’t know you were a, uhh, breakfast with headphones kinda girl.”
You bite your lip to conceal the laugh that almost breaks free in response to his weak attempt at casual conversation.
With a soft hum, you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. “Didn’t know you were the type to break into people’s kitchens uninvited.” you challenge.
“Door was open,” he says, holding his hands up defensively. “Besides, ain’t like you’re just ‘people’.”
The sentiment knocks you still for a moment, your hands dropping to steady yourself against the table, a warm weight settling right between your ribs.
You open your mouth to reply, but before you can even string a cohesive sentence together, Joel’s hand reaches out, fingers carefully brushing your hair behind your ear.
Your eyes lift to his, finding them full of warmth, and for a second, you nearly forget to breathe.
Joel smiles knowingly. “Missed y - ”
“Goddamn piece of shit mower!” your dad’s voice cuts sharply through the kitchen. “Packed in on the last patch of grass.”
You startle, shifting backwards in your seat as Joel straightens back against the edge of the table. He puts a casual amount of distance between you both as your dad stomps into the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dirty rag.
”Piece of junk. Should’ve - ” he stops short when he sees Joel, his brows lifting in surprise. “Shit, Joel, didn’t know you were here yet.”
“Didn’t want to interrupt the mower funeral.” he chuckles.
Your dad barks out a laugh as he tosses the rag onto the counter. “Might have to bury the damn thing.” he grumbles before gesturing vaguely towards you. “Hope this one’s not givin’ you trouble.”
“Me? What the hell - ”
“Nah” Joel cuts in, his eyes slowly moving back to you. “She’s bein’ real good.”
You shoot him a scolding glare, ignoring the desire that heats your belly as you lower your leg to kick him from beneath the table in a silent warning.
Of course, he just stands there grinning, like he gets some sick kind of enjoyment out of teetering so dangerously close to the edge of saying something that your dad is too oblivious to piece together.
Your dad groans as he slumps himself down into one of the chairs around the table, his coffee spilling over the rim of his mug as he sets it down clumsily.
Joel follows suit, taking the seat across from you, his eyes watchful as you adjust awkwardly in your seat, pulling your headphones free from your neck.
You try not to squirm under his quiet scrutiny, but it’s a losing battle. His eyes are warm, longing, like he needs to be close to you again, needs to reach out and touch you.
Your dad slurps noisily at his coffee, your attention shifting away from Joel as you grimace, shooting him an irritated look that he misses entirely.
“Oh shoot - before I forget,” your dad snaps his fingers together. “You workin’ tonight?” he asks, his mug half raised back to his lips.
“No,” you answer cautiously. “Night off. Why?”
Joel leans back in his chair, arms folding loosely across his chest, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
It’s subtle enough that your dad would never notice, but not you. You’ve spent far too long watching his mouth, memorizing the curve of it when he smiles, the way it tugs higher on the left when he’s holding back a thought he’s not supposed to say out loud.
“We wrapped up the East Riverside job yesterday,” your dad says, sharing an accomplished look with Joel. “Ahead of schedule. All those late nights this week finally paid off.”
He jerks his thumb in Joel’s direction. “This one decided we oughta celebrate. Barbecue down at the site tonight with the crew, get some burgers on the grill, beers on ice.”
You glance back at Joel, and sure enough, he’s watching you carefully. “Your idea, huh?”
Joel lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug. “Someone’s gotta keep morale up around here.”
You fight the pull of a smile, teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek.
“Anyway,” your dad continues, “we could use an extra set of hands. Thought maybe you’d wanna join, since you ain’t workin’.”
You hesitate, contemplating the idea as you drum your fingers against the wood of the table. It would give you more time with Joel, sure. But your dad would be lingering, getting in the way of you being able to be with Joel in any way that you need him. Crave him.
“You up for it, kiddo?” your dad presses when you don’t answer straight away.
Joel arches an eyebrow. “Could use the help. Keep the guys in line.”
He says it like it’s nothing, but the look in his eye betrays him. He wants you there.
You drag your coffee closer to you, wrapping your hands around its warmth as you let out a resigned sigh.
“Yeah,” you say with a shrug. “Sure. Why not.”
Your dad grins, satisfied. “Atta girl. We’ll head out around five. You can ride with Joel, I’m pickin’ up some of the guys.”
You nod, hoping the way your stomach flips as your thoughts jump straight back to the last time you hitched a ride in Joel’s tuck isn’t written all over your face.
Your dad downs the last of his coffee, pushing back from the table. “Right. I’m gonna go shower, got goddamn grass all over me.”
You watch him head down the hall, not moving until you hear the bathroom door creak open, then thud shut a second later.
Joel claps two heavy hands against the tabletop before standing up, collecting the mugs and carrying them over to the sink.
“So,” you say casually, tilting your head to the side. “What would you have done if I was workin’ tonight?”
Joel misses a beat, not answering straight away. He rinses one of the mugs slowly, like he’s mulling over just how honest he wants to be. Then, he glances over his shoulder, a half smile tugging at his lips.
“Would’ve rearranged the whole damn thing,” he says simply. “Moved it to next weekend. Cancelled it or somethin’.”
You push your chair back, rising to your feet as a smile threatens at the edge of your lips. You bite it back, your tongue pushing into the side of your cheek as you step around the table, casually tucking your chair back under it.
“Just like that, huh?” you ask.
He shrugs, drying his hands on a dish towel. “Ain’t the same without you.”
You hum softly as you step closer, rounding the counter towards him slowly.
“So, you planned a whole party,” you say pointedly, watching his eyes track your every move, “just to see me?”
He turns to face you fully, the playful glint in his eyes turning hungrier.
“I’d plan a hell of a lot more than that just to see you, sweetheart.”
It only takes a step, maybe two, and then you’re right in front of him, stepping between his feet, your fingers curling into his shirt as his eyes fall to your mouth.
His hand lifts slowly, cupping your jaw, thumb brushing across your cheek.
“We shouldn’t. Not here.”
You nod, lips parting, but your body leans into him, defiant with desire.
“So don’t.” you challenge.
Joel’s jaw tightens, his movements faltering for just a second.
After a brief pause of reckless decision making, his hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, drawing you in with a quiet, strained urgency. His mouth presses warm against yours, a relieved moan pouring from his lips.
It starts off slow, like maybe he thinks there’s still time to pull back. But then your fingers tighten in his shirt as you press your body firmly against him, the soft swell of your breasts brushing against his chest and he snaps.
His other hand finds your waist as he knocks your legs open with his knee, pulling your cunt over his leg as he kisses you like he’s trying to make up for every minute he’s been deprived of you.
His tongue brushes against yours as you roll your hips to grind against the firm muscle of his thigh, your hands sliding up over his shoulders.
You moan into his mouth before you can help yourself, still chasing friction between your thighs. Joel pulls back with a pained groan against your lips.
“Jesus,” he grunts. “You tryna kill me? Doin’ that shit here?”
You almost laugh, but it dies in your throat when you see the look in his eyes. He looks pained, tortured, like he wants to take you, devour you, yet hates himself for it all at once.
Your knees suddenly feel unsteady.
“You started it,” you argue breathlessly, your fingers dragging lightly across his chest. “Plannin’ a whole damn barbecue just to see me,” you say between soft kisses to his jaw. “Don’t act surprised when I try to thank you properly.”
Joel huffs out a short, strained laugh. He leans to rest his forehead against yours, his nose brushing over yours gently.
“If your goddamn dad wasn’t upstairs…” he grits through his teeth.
“Then what?” you urge, pressing yourself harder against his thigh. “What would you do?”
His lips barely brush yours, just enough to make your head tip forwards, chasing more.
He shifts suddenly, switching your position as he presses you forwards, your hip bones bumping the edge of the kitchen counter. His palm slides flat against your lower back, guiding you down until your chest meets the cold marble.
Your breath catches, the chill biting into your skin, your cunt clenching with anticipation.
“I’d bend you right over this fuckin’ counter,” he growls quietly against your ear. “Show you just how much I missed you.”
”Fuck,” you breathe, your hands gripping tight against the counter.
Joel leans over you, one hand sliding down your side, trailing around to your midriff. “I’d make you beg for it,” he drawls, inching his hips forwards. “Loud.”
You whine, pressing your thighs together as your hips grind back against him, desperate to feel more.
His lips press against the sensitive skin beneath your ear. “If I showed you all the things I’m thinkin’ darlin’,” he drawls sinfully, “you wouldn’t be walkin’ into that damn party.”
“Joel,” you whine, writhing restlessly beneath him.
He hums softly, stepping a strong leg between yours, forcing them apart. “Bet you’re already soaked for me,” he says, all too smug. “Bet you’d let me take you right here if I told you to, huh? Even with your daddy just upstairs.”
You nod your head dizzily, not thinking with any kind of logic, only the heat between your legs. “Please. I’ll be so good, Joel,” you whimper, pressing your breasts against the countertop. “Be so quiet, he won’t hear, I swear.”
Joel lets out a dark chuckle, your desperate pleas almost enough for him to give in.
Almost.
The warmth of him behind you disappears, and you’re left gripping the counter, breathless and aching.
You whip around, lips parted, but Joel’s already halfway to the door, eyes raking over you with a sickeningly smug smile.
He pushes a hand through his hair, like he’s completely unbothered by the fact that you’re left trembling in front of him.
“I’ll pick you up at five,” he says, “Don’t keep me waitin’.”
Your nostrils flare, your hands pulled into tight fists at your sides. ”You. Are such. An assho - ”
“Wear somethin’ pretty tonight” he interjects, gripping the handle as he steps around the door, humming thoughtfully. “Y’look good when you’re all fired up for me.”
And then, he just leaves.
You’re left staring at the door, heat pulsing low in your belly, underwear slick with need.
You want to scream. Instead, you pick up the dish towel beside you, scrunch it into a tight ball between your hands and launch it at the door he just left through.
“Fucker.” you mutter under your breath, turning back to the counter and leaning on your elbows, hanging your head in your hands.
Five o’fucking clock.
You spend most of the afternoon helping your dad load the truck, struggling to haul in the grill and a couple of propane tanks, followed by two coolers of beer, and way more burger buns than anyone’s realistically going to eat.
Once everything is packed, you disappear upstairs, spending far too long standing in front of your closet.
Three outfits later, you settle on a red sundress that clings in all the right places, just short enough that it will drive Joel out of his mind. After his little act earlier, you don’t even feel guilty about it.
At about four-thirty your phone vibrates with a notification.
Joel: On my way. Just grabbing some beers.
You stare at the message, your heart thudding against your ribs. You grab your bag, swiping on some lip balm before you head downstairs.
Your dad left about ten minutes ago, eager to get on with his rounds of picking up the guys who’ll drink far too much to make it home by themselves later.
By the time Joel’s truck rumbles to a stop at the end of your driveway, you’re already out of the front door before he can even text his arrival.
Your dress sways around your thighs as you step down the porch steps, an apprehensive lick of heat warming your lower abdomen just from the way Joel’s eyes track you from behind the windshield.
The engine’s still running when you pull open the passenger door, sliding into the seat with a sigh, the leather warm against the backs of your thighs.
Joel’s eyes trace over your bare legs, then your neckline, all the way up to your lips.
“That red’s gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he groans.
You smirk. “You’re the one who said to wear something pretty.”
“Didn’t expect you to weaponize it,” he mutters under his breath.
You laugh softly as you buckle your seatbelt, your lips falling into a mocking pout.
“Aw. Call it karma, asshole.”
He chuckles, reversing out of the driveway with one hand braced on the back of your seat. “Alright, y’got me there.”
The drive starts out quiet, the warm air slipping into the truck through the open window as you make your way out of the neighbourhood.
A few minutes in, you jump as Joel clears his throat.
“We should probably talk.”
You frown, a little thrown off by the shift. “Talk?”
“’Bout last week.”
Your eyes remain fixed on the windshield. “What about it?”
“Wanna be sure we’re on the same page.” he says. “I ain’t lookin’ to screw up your life, or cause shit with your dad.”
You huff, leaning your head back against the seat. “Joel, it’s not that deep.” you brush off his concern quickly.
He glances over to you, raising a brow. “It’s not?”
“No,” you lie smoothly, maybe a little too fast. “We’re just… messing around. That’s all.”
Joel’s jaw tightens, fingers drumming against the wheel, the way you’ve noticed they seem to do when he’s stuck in his head, holding something back.
You watch him from the corner of your eye. “Aren’t we?” you ask, feigning indifference even as your stomach twists uncomfortably.
He doesn’t look at you. “If that’s what you want it to be,” he says carefully.
You shrug, pretending that the idea doesn’t sting.
“I mean,” you say, forcing a small laugh, “we’d be insane to make it anything else, right? My dad would literally kill you.”
Joel’s face is unreadable. “Yeah,” he agrees with a short nod. “He might.”
The silence that follows isn’t easy this time. It stretches between you uncomfortably, like the facade of each of your indifference is a blanket suffocating you both.
You stare ahead, blinking hard, your throat tightening.
Eventually, Joel nods towards the windshield. “Almost there.”
You nod quickly too, eyes remaining fixed forwards defiantly, like not looking at Joel will remove whatever this conversation just stirred.
Joel turns down the final stretch of road, tires easily slipping over the freshly laid tarmac as the new neighborhood unfolds in front of you.
It’s eerie how complete everything looks.
The houses are done, porches patiently waiting for welcome mats, but the streets are still quiet, untouched by the noise of kids learning to ride bikes, or neighbours gathering under the summer sun.
It feels like you’re stepping into a paused moment, a place still waiting to become something.
Joel shifts the truck into park near the curb of the shared green space, a wide stretch of grass between the rows of empty homes.
Someone’s already dragged a folding table out into the center, coolers stacked at either end, a speaker perched on the tailgate of your dad’s truck playing something you can’t make out from here.
The grill is already fired up, smoke slowly curling upwards into the hazy gold of the late afternoon sky.
When he finally kills the engine, you reach to unbuckle your belt, but Joel’s hand wraps over yours, stopping you short.
“You sure you’re alright?” he asks quietly.
You lift your eyes to meet his, finding him leaning back against his chair, one arm casually draped over the wheel like he hasn’t been knotted tight with tension since you left the house.
“I’m fine,” you say, but the words come out strained. You clear your throat and try again. “Are you?”
Joel huffs as he yanks the keys from the ignition. “Fuckin’ peachy.”
You roll your eyes at his sarcasm, but offer a small smile anyway. “C’mon. Game face.”
You’re already pushing the door open before he can say anything else, sliding down from the cab as you smooth your dress, trying to ignore the way you feel his eyes on you.
He slams his own door behind him, grabbing the cooler from the bed of the truck before he heads towards the others.
Your dad spots you both first. He waves Joel over, beer in hand, flanked by a couple other guys near the grill. One you recognise, Denny, a longtime crew member who always calls you ‘sunshine’ because you’re pretty sure he can’t actually remember your name.
“‘Bout damn time!” your dad calls, grinning. “Thought you got lost or somethin’.”
“Blame Joel!” you call back, lifting a hand to shield your eyes from the glare of the sun as you walk across the green. “Drives like he’s eighty.”
Joel grunts, shaking his head as he waves off the jab. “Stopped for more beer. Know what these guys are like.” he gestures with his thumb towards the group.
He drops the cooler with a solid thud at your dad’s feet, who laughs and claps him on the back before turning to you.
“Hey, kiddo,” he says, reaching out to pull you into a one armed hug, the scent of smoke already clinging to his shirt. “Told these idiots I roped you into helpin’. Said they oughta be grateful.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, yeah. Always happy to slave away for free.”
The men laugh, and your dad gives your shoulder a squeeze before tipping his chin towards the group.
“You remember Denny,” he says, gesturing to the older man who gives you a grunt and a wave. “And this here’s Sammie,” he adds, nodding towards the guy you don’t recognize. “Newest fella on the crew. Joined us right at the start of this job.”
You nod politely as they offer you their own greetings. Sammie’s significantly younger than Joel and your dad, maybe your age or a little older, with a confident smirk that reminds you far too much of boys who don’t know when to quit.
“Y’all be nice to her,” your dad warns with a mock glare. “Last thing I need is her tellin’ me how much dumber y’all get with a drink in your hand.”
You laugh softly, eyes still scanning the green with a furrowed brow, expecting to see at least one more familiar face.
“Wait. Where’s - ?”
“Right here, trouble.”
You turn at the sound of Tommy’s voice as he strolls up from the direction of the trucks, beer in hand, his face painted with a grin.
He opens his arms without hesitation and you step right into them, his hand ruffling the back of your hair like always.
“Good to see ya,” he says, pulling back but keeping a firm hand on your shoulder. “Feels like it’s been forever.”
“It’s been, what, three weeks?,” you say with a soft roll of your eyes.
“Yeah, well. Missed you anyways,” he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze.
You hear Joel’s low laugh from behind you, but when you glance his way, he’s not smiling, his jaw grinding tightly.
Tommy doesn’t seem to notice. “C’mon,” he says, draping an arm around you. “You gotta help me find the good beer before the old timers get to it.”
You let him steer you a few feet away to the fold out table, arm still draped lazily around your shoulders like its second nature. You don’t have to look back to know Joel’s eyes are unwaveringly following you.
Tommy flips the lid on one of the coolers, squinting through the sun as he rummages through the ice.
“There's gotta be somethin’ good in here,” he mutters, pushing aside the drinks impatiently. “You didn’t let Joel pick, right? Man drinks the same shit he did in the nineties.”
You laugh under your breath, nudging his side. “Unfortunately, he bought the beer before he picked me up”
“Tragic,” Tommy sighs, but then his expression brightens as he pulls out a bottle of something a little less cheap and watered down. “Now we’re talkin’.”
He cracks the bottle open against the edge of the cooler and presents it to you theatrically. “For you, my lady.”
You roll your eyes, but take it with a small, uncontained laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously thoughtful,” he corrects, holding his beer in the air. “To survivin’ your dad’s burnt burgers.”
You laugh again as you raise your own bottle, clinking it softly against his before pressing the rim against the smile still resting at your lips, taking a long, refreshing sip.
The two of you lean casually against the table, the warm sun stretching golden across the empty neighborhood.
Joel is still standing with the others near the grill, half listening to whatever your dad appears to be ranting about, tongs flailing around in his hand - but his eyes haven’t left you once.
There’s a heat in his eyes that burns just as hot as the sunbeams warming your skin. His look is fixed, unrelenting as he watches the way your head tips back as you laugh, the way Tommy leans into you when he says something that makes you roll your eyes.
It makes something in him stiffen, his body taught with a rigid tension that you can feel even from here.
He’s pissed. But he’s holding it back, barely.
“C’mon,” Tommy says, nudging your elbow as he takes another sip of his drink. “Let’s head back before your dad starts shoutin’ about how we’re slackin’.”
You huff as you push off the table, brushing your hair behind your ear, still too aware of the heat prickling across your skin as Joel watches you both make your way back.
Every step feels like you’re walking towards the eye of a storm, an unmistakable feeling of dread licking up your spine.
The tension rolling off Joel is thick, coiled tight beneath his skin, obvious in the tight line of his lips, the way he watches you through narrowed eyes.
He doesn’t say a word as you rejoin the group, just shifts a half step to the side when Tommy slots himself into the space between you both.
Your fingers tighten around the neck of your bottle as you divert your attention towards the grill, hiding from his heated glare.
Your dad’s complaining about all the paperwork left to file for the job, his voice raised over the hiss of fat hitting flames on the grill.
“They always say it’s the build that takes the most time,” he says, tongs still waving in the air. “But I swear the worst part is all the damn signatures.”
Tommy laughs under his breath, then nudges your arm with his elbow. “So what’s new? Still workin’ nights at the bar?”
“Unfortunately,” you nod, sipping your beer. “My manager acts like I'm contractually obligated to die behind the counter.”
Your dad lets out a grunt of agreement. “She’s right y’know. Works her too damn hard. Joel here’ll tell you the goddamn unholy hours he’s picked her up”
Joel shifts uncomfortably, shoving his hands in his pockets, jaw ticking ever so slightly.
Tommy lets out a low whistle. “Damn. Want me to key his car?”
You laugh again, too easily. You catch yourself, conscious of the way Joel’s watching.
“Ever think of doin’ somethin’ else?” Tommy presses, casual but interested. “Could join us guys out here, keep us idiots in line.”
You roll your eyes. “Oh, sure. Like I could keep you in line.”
Tommy grins, a warm laugh escaping his chest.
“I’m serious!” he insists, lifting his arms to exaggerate the point, his beer sloshing around the bottle and almost escaping the rim. “We’d have so much fun. No more finishin’ work at two in the mornin’.”
You squint at him, entirely skeptical. “I don’t know, you guys still finish pretty late sometimes.”
Tommy scoffs, waving off your argument.
“I can picture it now. ‘Get those beams up stat!’,” he imitates in an unflattering attempt at your voice, pointing aggressively with one hand. “‘That concrete needs pourin’ within the hour!’.”
Your dad barks a laugh, still flipping the burgers on the grill. “You’d sure keep our asses in gear, kiddo”
You scowl playfully, arms crossed over your chest. “I don’t even sound like that.”
“Sure you do,” Tommy laughs, raising his bottle again a little more animatedly. “‘Hey, boys, get those goddamn - ’,”
Before you can even process the subtle knock of Joel’s elbow against Tommy’s arm, the bottle jerks in his hand, beer splashing all over your front.
You flinch, a soft gasp passing your lips as the cold liquid sinks into the thin fabric of your dress. It trickles over your chest, sticky against your skin.
“Shit,” Tommy blurts, hunching over a little towards you as he panics for some kind of solution. “Fuck - I’m so sorry.”
Your hands hover uselessly over your soaked dress, your expression stuck somewhere between shock and blinding irritation.
You lift your gaze and immediately notice the glint in his eyes, the smug angle of his mouth.
You stare at him, gritting your teeth, your nostrils flaring with a breath you hope will quell the seething fire in your veins.
Without a fucking doubt, he did it on purpose.
Tommy’s still hopelessly apologising, his hands hovering awkwardly, like he doesn’t know whether to help or just back away. “Shit, really, I didn’t mean - ”
“It’s fine,” you cut in tightly, brushing his concern off with a forced, tight smile. Your fingers pinch the soaked fabric away from your chest where it’s clinging stubbornly.
“You want me to go grab some napkins or somethin’?” Tommy offers, already turning back towards the table.
“I got it.” Joel cuts in.
You glance at him just in time to see him catch the keys your dad tosses through the air.
“There’s towels in the kitchen in the show home,” your dad says distractedly, already turning back to the grill. “Ain’t got no electricity yet, but the water should be runnin’.”
You open your mouth to protest, mainly because you know exactly what Joel’s doing, but before you can speak, his hand finds the small of your back, already steering you away from the group.
Your fingers pry at the damp fabric around your stomach as you walk stiffly beside him.
“You did that on fucking purpose,” you hiss under your breath once you’re a few paces out of earshot.
Joel doesn’t say a word, just keeps walking, guiding you towards one of the vacant houses across the green with the same frustrating calm he always wears when he knows he’s in control of the situation.
“Joel,” you snap again, stepping free from his hold. “You bumped him. I saw.”
His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t stop moving. “He was swingin’ his damn beer around like a goddamn idiot. Just happened to be standin’ too close to you.”
“Sure.” you mutter.
You step up onto the porch of the house as Joel unlocks the door and swings it open, the scent of fresh paint and plaster hitting you as you step into the hallway.
You march your way through the house without waiting for him, searching blindly for the kitchen. You head straight for the sink, and count your blessings when the water actually sputters to life.
With a little effort, you lean over the sink, wordlessly squeezing the worst of the beer out of the fabric, watching as the water darkens with it and swirls down the drain.
You rinse the tops of your arms, dragging the cool water over the stickiness that clings to your collarbones, washing it over your chest.
Joel watches you far too calmly as you yank open different drawers until you find a towel, dabbing furiously at the soaked fabric clinging to your skin.
“You got somethin’ to say, Joel?” you snap, not even glancing at him.
Infuriating as ever, he doesn’t respond, probably with good reason. You’re not sure what excuse you’d even want to hear.
You continue pressing the towel over the fabric, but soon enough you grow tired of the futile effort and throw the towel on the floor before crossing your arms defensively over your chest.
Joel steps forwards silently, reaching to pick it from the floor before stepping slowly towards you. You eye him as he inches around you, wetting the towel slightly beneath the running water.
“C’mere,” he says softly, resting a hand on your shoulder as he draws you reluctantly closer to him.
Your body gives in before your head, moving to slot between his feet with a resigned sigh. He dabs the damp towel at your neckline without a word, ridding you of the sticky residue still uncomfortably coating your skin.
You lift your eyes to his face as he drags the towel gently over chest, before moving to the fabric of your dress. You soften only slightly as you trace the sorry lines of his expression, his furrowed brow, the tight muscle of his jaw as he mulls over what to say.
His eyes flick to yours, pausing for just a second before he pulls his attention back to his hands.
“Didn’t mean to piss you off.”
You let the silence hang for just a beat, eyes dropping to the towel still ghosting over your chest.
“Well,” you murmur, “you did.”
Joel’s lips press into a tight line. “Ain’t proud of that. I just - ” he hesitates, eyes tracing your face. “Didn’t like how close he was to you.”
“So you douse me in beer?” you scoff. “It’s only Tommy, for fuck sake, Joel.”
Joel looks at you, and you feel his frustration escalate, the space between his brows furrowed in a deep line.
Oh.
“You’re not mad about Tommy,” you say quietly, not sure if it’s an observation or an accusation.
Joel’s lips part, but nothing comes out right away. He lifts the towel again, brushes it once more across the damp fabric of your dress just to give him something to do.
“‘Course I’m mad about Tommy,” he says, pressing closer, crowding your space until your back hits the cool edge of the counter. His palm slides slowly down your side, settling below your ribs.
“But that ain’t all,” he murmurs. “That shit in the truck, what you said about this bein’ just some casual way to mess around..”
Your spine straightens as his hand drops to curl around your hip, pulling you into him until there’s no space between you.
“That’s what you’re mad about?” you whisper.
His jaw clenches. “You really think I planned a whole damn barbecue just to watch you spend it with my goddamn brother?”
You can’t help the stubborn roll of your eyes. “Joel - ”
“No,” he bites, cutting you off as his hand slides lower, gripping the top of your thigh. “You don’t get to pretend this ain’t more than that. Not when I’ve had you the way I have, beggin’ for more of me. Not when I’ve felt how much you fuckin’ want this.”
His hand hooks behind your knee, pulling your leg up, forcing you open to him as he hooks it around his waist. He slots himself between your legs, a rough hand sliding up your thigh beneath your dress.
“You can try and play it cool all you want, sweetheart, but you feel this,” he presses the hard line of his cock against your inner thigh, dragging a gasp from your throat. “Same way I do.”
You whimper softly, your chest rising sharply against his, your fingers curling into the front of his shirt.
“I never said I didn’t feel it,” you whisper. “I just…”
You trail off, because there’s no use. Not when you’re this close, not when your body is already thrumming with such an intense desire for him that it renders all logical reasons to say no utterly useless.
Joel can read your body like an open fucking book, secrets sprawled carelessly across the pages. It’s not complicated. He touches you, and you’re on fire, and he knows it.
The way you shudder beneath his fingers is all it takes.
His mouth presses against yours, and there’s nothing slow about it this time, his hunger and frustration pushing every trace of denial out of your head.
You moan into his mouth as his tongue licks against yours, his hand moving to cup between your legs, pressing against your slick underwear.
“You’re gonna stop pretendin’,” he growls. “Stop actin’ like this don’t mean nothin’. Not when you’re so fuckin’ wet I could slide into you right now without even tryin’.”
You whimper, head falling back as his mouth drags down your throat, lips pressing hard along your pulse.
Your hips jerk forwards into his hand as his fingers press slow circles over your clit, your nails biting into his shoulders.
“Fuck, Joel,” you whine, head spinning, limbs already feeling heavy yet weightless all at once.
You’re lost in the pleasure already, but Joel growls your name, pulling your attention back just long enough for him to look at you - really look at you.
“You want me to stop?” he asks, chest heaving. His eyes are blown with a reckless, insatiable kind of need, but beneath it there’s a sincerity, one that tells you no matter how bad he wants this, needs this, he can’t unless you say so.
Even now, when he’s burning with frustration, he’s giving you the chance to say no, would walk away if you asked.
You swallow, the tight pang between your ribs a painful reminder that, fuck, you’re not sure Joel could ever only be a bit of fun when he looks at you like this, like you’re the only thing that fucking matters.
“No,” you breathe, shaking your head. “Need you to fuck me.”
Joel’s jaw squares, his grip behind your leg tightening as he lifts you to sit on the marble counter.
“Then pull your pretty little panties to the side,” he orders, “and put your hands back on the fuckin’ counter.”
Your fingers tremble as you bunch your dress up around your hips and hook your underwear aside, breath hitching as the warm air hits your slick.
Your hands curl around the edge of the counter, back arching just enough to display your cunt to him, how you ache for him.
Joel groans just at the sight of you, his hand falling back between your legs, thumb dragging through the sticky mess of your desire before pressing hard against your clit again.
“You got no idea what the hell you do to me,” he rasps, his other hand fisting the fabric bunched around your waist, holding onto you desperately.
His hand drops from your cunt and you let out a pained whine as he moves to push his jeans just low enough to free his cock. He’s thick, hard, already leaking for you as he grips his length at the base tightly, dragging himself through your folds. You jerk a little as the tip presses over your clit, slick with your need.
His other hand still fists tightly at your dress, holding you still as he presses the thick head of his cock against your entrance.
”Ain’t got the time to be a gentleman about it, baby.” he warns, hips grinding forwards only slightly, just enough for you to feel how his size threatens to stretch you open.
You whimper at the first nudge of him, your hips rolling into him on instinct.
“Don’t fucking care. Just fuck me.”
There’s no easing into it, no slow stretch. Just a single, deep thrust that knocks the breath straight from your lungs and makes your fingers curl tight around the edge of the counter.
“Fuck,” Joel bites through gritted teeth, holding himself there for a second, buried to the hilt, your tight heat clenching desperately around him. “Takin’ me so fuckin’ good, baby.”
Your legs tremble as they wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. It’s almost overwhelming how full you feel with him deep inside you.
You didn’t expect it to be like this, not just the stretch, the delicious ache, but the way your body welcomes him like it’s been waiting for him, like it was made for him.
Joel breathes heavily above you, forehead pressed to yours as he gives you a second to adjust.
“You okay?” he mutters, lips brushing yours.
You nod, but your breath comes out a little shaky. “Yeah. Just - fuck. Don’t stop.”
He pulls his hips back slowly, still too careful, like he's holding something fragile. You drag your nails lightly up his arms, and he groans when your hips roll towards him, greedy for more.
“Don’t hold back,” you plead. “I want it. Want all of you.”
“Shit.”
He sinks back into you with a grunt, hips pushing against yours at a pace that makes you feel every inch of him.
Your head tips back on a broken moan, your thighs trembling on either side of his waist as he fucks you harder, the skin at the back of your legs dragging over the counter under the force of his relentless pace.
Your skin heats at the lude, wet sounds of your bodies joining, the slap of his skin against yours echoing around the vacant house.
“Feel that, darlin’?” Joel growls against your neck. “How much I fuckin’ need you?”
You can’t answer, at least not with words. You’re too full, too warm, your blood burning too hot in your veins. All you can do is nod, gasping as his hips slam into yours harder, rougher.
“Still wanna pretend this is nothin’, huh baby?”
Your eyes flick to his, as he slows his thrusts back down, dragging his cock in and out of you at an agonising pace. Your mouth falls open as he circles his hips, nudging his tip perfectly against the tightly wound ball of heat in your abdomen.
You’re so fucking painfully close to cumming already it’s insane.
Joel dips his chin against his chest, gaze falling between your writhing bodies, watching the slow draw of his cock moving inside of you.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he groans. “Say it.”
“Yours,” you gasp without a second thought. “Yours, Joel.”
His hand curls around your throat, his lips pressing against yours in a clumsy, wet kiss that’s all tongue and uncontained need. His thrusts quicken, all his built up restraint slipping.
And you take it, all of it, because it’s him. And fuck, you‘d give him everything.
Your back arches into every thrust, the cabinets shuddering noisily beneath you, but you don’t care. All that matters is Joel, his body pressed to yours, the stretch of him inside you, the way he kisses you like it might be the only chance he ever gets.
“God, baby,” he mutters against your skin. “Squeezin’ me so goddamn tight. You close?”
You can’t even find your voice, just nod your head as you whimper under each punishing thrust of his hips. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, holding onto him like you’ll fall apart without feeling him close.
The heat pooling in your belly threatens to spill over, each brush of his cock inside your cunt pushing you closer, and closer, until finally, his hand moves, thumb pressing against your clit.
“Joel, oh my - fuck, don’t stop - ”
“I gotcha,” he grits through his teeth. “Wanna feel you come for me. C’mon baby girl.”
His hips falter a little, like he’s only holding on still just to feel you flutter tight around him when he finally gives in too.
“Shit,” you whine, but it’s not just with a lustrous need anymore. It’s a need to be his, to be wanted like this, by only him.
“Look at me.”
Joel’s hand slides up your throat again, guiding your gaze back to him. “Wanna see you fall apart for me.”
The moment your eyes meet his, you break.
Your thighs tremble around his hips as your pleasure rips through you, your blood thrumming hot through your limbs, your cunt clenching tight around him.
You barely register the sound Joel makes as he pushes himself deeper, grinding into you as he follows you over the edge.
“Fuck, baby, I - ” he breathes, rocking his hips through every wave of release.
His forehead falls against yours, heavy breath fanning against your cheeks.
There’s something strangely tender in the silence that follows. Joel stills inside you, his hands rubbing softly over your thighs.
“You okay?” he asks eventually, lips brushing yours.
You nod, still breathless. “Yeah,” you whisper. “Just… fuck.”
He laughs softly and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another against your jaw. His thumb strokes your waist, and when you glance up at him, you see it again, that look.
The one that makes your chest fucking ache.
Before either of you can say anything else, you hear muffled laughter outside across the green, and reality slams forcefully back into place.
Joel groans quietly. “Shit. We should get you cleaned up.”
You nod reluctantly, and he eases out of you with a low groan, reaching for the towel to help you wipe down.
He tugs your dress back down, smoothing the fabric as if it’ll remove any evidence that he just fucked you senseless on the kitchen counter.
You hop down on shaky legs, grabbing the edge of the sink for balance as he tucks himself back into his jeans.
Joel lingers in front of you, like he doesn’t want to move, like he’s not ready to step out of this moment yet.
And truthfully, neither are you. Because you both know once you walk out of that door, it’s back to pretending.
You share a look that doesn’t need any words, you both know you’re thinking the same thing.
“C’mon,” Joel echoes your words from earlier, taking a step towards the door and holding it open for you.
2087
origamiaround
titsay
tangentwithtanner
dailybridgerton
turnnoffyourmind
andulkaphoto
