Smarty Pants

my favorite movie forever🤍

Matilda (1996) dir. Danny Devito

I love themm

#the two warriors leading the war against jimmy fallon

Enemy [D.M.]

A/N: I get so much inspo from Dani and Nani tbh, but this is for @silverdelirium 🤍

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!virgin!reader

Words: 3.1k

Summary: kinda based on this. Enemy Draco fucking virgin reader, leaving her to slip into sub space.

Warnings: NSFW! (+16), virgin reader, dub con, daddy kink, vaginal sex, degradation, praise, oral (f receiving), sub space, choking, crying. Lmk if I missed anything.

The breath was knocked slightly out of you as your body bumped against the side of the tall figure walking in the opposite direction to you. A scowl decorated his face and an annoyed grunt left his lips.

“Watch where you’re going, y/l/n,” he growled, stopping in his tracks to turn towards you.

“Oh, Malfoy, didn’t see you there,” you smirked, angling your head up to look at him as he stepped closer.

“You better watch yourself.”

Your smirk only grew, your bodies so close your chests were practically touching.

“What're you gonna do, huh? Tell your father I bumped into you,” you poked, playing with fire. You knew you’d struck something by the way his eyes blazed and nostrils flared.

A small smirk twitched on his lips, “y/l/n, I’d advise you to shut that little mouth of yours.”

The electricity buzzed all around you, the silence bouncing on the walls of the empty corridor as you stared into his grey stormy eyes.

“Make me,” you whispered smugly.

Draco closed his eyes, shaking his head, “that’s it.”

Before you could process what was happening, Draco had your arm in his grasp hauling you with him. You were pushed into a dusty broom cupboard, one abandoned by Filch many years ago.

Draco shut the door firmly behind him, pushing your body against the dusty wall, pressing himself up against you.

“What're you doing?” you asked, voice strained as you were pressed against the wall.

“Teaching a slutty little brat a lesson.”

You gasped as Draco’s hand snaked around your body, grasping your throat with his large hand, squeezing just enough for it to be felt.

He used his free hand to flip up your skirt, landing a harsh smack right on the smooth flesh.

“Ow, Malfoy!” you tried turning your head, but he only squeezed your throat tighter.

“Shut your mouth, stupid brat…- and you’ll address me as daddy, you got that?”

You tried straining, but to no avail.

“I said, you got that?” he growled right by your ear, pinching your thigh.

“Yes,” you breathed out shakily.

“Yes, what?”

You shut your eyes, “yes, daddy.”

Draco let out a pleased hum, moving your lace panties to the side and running a finger through your folds without warning.

“Such a fucking slut, all wet from being pressed against a wall,” he chuckled sadistically.

Nerves ran through your body and mind, your mouth shut quiet as you listened to the zip of Draco’s school trousers and the clinking of his belt. You let out another gasp as you felt something run through your folds once more before prodding at your entrance.

The nerves clouded your mind and your body tensed right as he pushed into you in one swift motion.

“Ow, Daddy,” you whimpered, knuckles turning white as they balled against the wall.

“Aww, can your slutty little cunt not handle it?” he cooed mockingly.

He thrust his hips against yours, fast deep strokes that hit spots within you, you didn’t know existed.

“Not so smart are you now,” Draco smirked, pulling your head against his shoulder as he kept rutting into you.

You shook your head, the pain bleeding into pleasure and a buzz ringing through your mind.

Draco just laughed, squeezing your throat.

“It hasn’t even been ten minutes and you’re already fucked dumb, dirty little slut.”

You could only moan in response, mouth open and slack as he kept moving his hips against your bottom.

His free hand moved over the front of your body, landing inside your panties; his finger found your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub. You jumped at the friction, a whimper tore from your throat and your cunt squeezed around Draco’s cock.

“Daddy, feels weird in my tummy,” you whined, Draco’s fingers speeding up on your clit.

“Such a greedy fucking slut…- cum around my cock then,” Draco grunted, voice strained as he neared his release.

Your legs shook and your body stiffened as you tumbled over the edge, pushed by Draco’s hard thrusts into you. Your knees buckled, but his grip on you kept you up against him, your chest pushed into the wall.

“Can’t even stand by yourself, ‘s fucking pathetic,” Draco growled, his grip on you tight.

With a few more thrusts Draco stilled, filling you up, letting out an outright pornographic groan.

You tried catching your breath, eyes closed and mind fogging like a windshield. It crept its way up your body, filling your mind with static, leaving you unable to focus on anything but Draco and his cock still within you.

He gave your parted lips a peck before patting your cheek and pulling out; a whimper was pulled from your lips, your body stiff in place. Draco moved your panties back over your cunt, keeping in your mixed releases, patting your bum.

“That should keep you in check,” he murmured with a smirk, pleased to watch you speechless, struggling on shaky legs to turn around.

He tucked himself away, giving you a quick look before he left.

You were so confused and out of it, heart stinging as you watched the door close behind him - you felt so useless and used.

.

The static never left, it trailed after you, making everything impossible to hear. A couple of your friends had tried talking to you, but nothing could break you out of the mindset you were in; your friends didn’t think much of it, you just seemed distracted, your eyes slightly out of focus. You didn’t see Draco for most of the day. Your mind was fuzzy, but all of his words still played on repeat, plus a nagging voice that told you, that you needed to find him, to be close to him - you craved him.

Draco watched you, books in your grasp as you made your way down the same corridor as before. You hadn’t seen him, you looked lost and confused, walking without a real destination. Draco smirked slightly, even if confusion did spark within him; you hadn’t even looked at him or acknowledged him, he knew that you were supposed to hate each other, but that didn’t mean ignoring each other.

As your figure grew closer, he moved slightly onto the opposite side of the hallway, so when you eventually went to pass one another he bumped purposely into you. What he didn’t expect was with so much static rummaging through your mind your balance wasn’t fully functional and you lost your footing. The books you held scattered around you as you landed on the ground with a ‘thud’. Your eyes widened and you looked around confused, that was until your eyes landed on Draco, stopped in his tracks, his eyes as wide as yours. At this particular moment, your brain couldn’t piece together why he would be so mean to you, your emotions running at an all-time high.

Draco internally panicked as he saw the tears well up in your eyes, your chin wobbling as you curled in on yourself. Luckily the hallway had been relatively empty, except for the odd student here and there, but that didn’t stop him from quickly walking to your side, crouching down to where you sat on the ground.

“Why are you crying?” he asked softly, instantly recognizing the out of focus look in your eyes, cursing himself for not noticing it before.

You sniffled, looking away from his face, “you’re mean.”

Draco let out a sigh, collecting the books around you and dumping them in his bag, “I know, darling… I know.”

The tears flowed freely down the apples of your cheeks, running down your neck wetting the top of your school shirt. Draco picked up your bag along with his own, hooking his hands under your arms to help you stand.

“Let’s go, love,” Draco said softly, snaking his hand around your waist to lead you toward the dungeon, to his dorm.

You pouted, but followed along with him, ignoring the weird stares you got from your fellow students.

“You’re so mean to me,” you whimpered meekly.

Draco squeezed your waist, holding in a chuckle, “I’m sorry…- but, darling, you’re just as mean.”

You gasped, tears welling up in your eyes once more, “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to.”

“No need for tears, princess.”

He shut the door to his dorm, leading you over to his bed, letting you sit before kneeling in front of you, using his thumb to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

“We’re always mean to each other… - it’s just for fun,” Draco explained, trying to ease your mind.

You shook your head, “no, I hate it when you’re mean to me…- I just wanna be good for you.”

“Oh, darling girl, you were so good for me,” Draco said, a sympathetic look on his face as he helped your stand.

“- let’s take a bath, yeah?”

You nodded, letting him lead you to the bathroom. You sat on the countertop in silence, watching as Draco filled the tub, putting expensive bath salts and soaps in the warm water.

He helped strip you of your clothing, touching you with gentle hands; his hands trailed up your sides, touching you as if you were made of glass, ready to shatter in his hands any second.

You let out a soft whine as you descended into the tub, the warm water scolding on your cold skin, “ow, too hot, daddy.”

“Shh, baby…- just gotta get used to it,” Draco shushed as he helped lower you until you were properly seated.

You sat silently as Draco washed your hair and body, making sure you were clean and taken care of. You could feel the staticky fuzz in your brain starting to clear, a warm feeling spreading through you as you watched Draco care for you. He went to fetch you a glass of water, making sure you finished the whole thing, smiling proudly as you did.

He stood with a towel open for you, wrapping it around your body, hugging you close. You shut your eyes, breathing in his scent, letting him dry and warm your body.

Draco led you back to his room, finding you a pair of his boxers and one of his t-shirts, dressing you carefully.

His hands cupped your face, forcing your gaze upon him. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign that you were still out of it.

“You tired, baby?” he whispered.

You nodded the best you could with your face in his grasp. Draco hummed in acknowledgement, leading you to his bed, drawing the covers for him to get under, pulling you with him. He laid you almost completely on top of his chest, rubbing your back as he felt you relax against him.

“Thank you, Draco,” you whispered.

Draco chuckled lightly, “it’s no problem…- do you always get all fuzzy after sex?”

“I-I…- I wouldn’t know,” you mumbled.

Draco’s movements on your back stopped, his hand frozen in place as he processed your words. He could feel his heart cracking in his chest as he came to the realization; you let him use you, take you.

“What?” Draco asked lowly, using his free hand to angle your face up, forcing you to meet his eye.

“You… Uhm… today was m-my first time.”

The confirmation fully shattered his heart, his eyes softened, but he was lost for words, just staring at you in disbelief.

“It’s okay, Draco,” you reassured, but he shook his head.

“No, it’s not… I’m sorry, it’s not supposed to be like that… if I would’ve known I wouldn’t have done it like that… you- you deserve better than that… better than a filthy broom cupboard,” Draco stuttered, rambling and tripping over his words, guilt swimming in his gut.

You grasped his hand that held your cheek, giving it a small squeeze, “but at least it was you,” you smiled softly.

Draco’s heart melted, confused by your words, yet they made perfect sense.

“Darling girl,” he cooed, stroking your cheek softly as thoughts raced through his mind.

It looked like he was thinking things over, finally coming to a decision before leaning his head down to connect your lips, much to your surprise. You let out a sigh as you relaxed into the kiss; the kiss was soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the last time. Draco’s lips moved gently against yours, treating you with the utmost care. His tongue slid into your mouth, moving with yours softly. He grasped your waist to pull you fully on top of him to straddle his hips.

“Let me take care of you,” Draco whispered breathily against your lips.

“Okay,” you nodded, holding onto his shoulder as he held your hips.

He reconnected your lips, using his grip on your hips to help move you, grinding you against him. You let out a shaky breath into his mouth, a small whine tore from your throat as the friction cursed through your body.

“There we go, baby,” he praised, his grip tightening, moving you faster.

In one swift motion, he had flipped you around, laying on top of you between your legs, grinding his hips into yours.

Draco’s hands slid along your body, stopping at the hem of your t-shirt, sliding it off you with skilled hands.

The shirt slid off your figure and just a minute later his boxers you were wearing joined, strewn on the floor carelessly as Draco’s hands kept exploring every inch of your body. His touch left tingles in their wake and you couldn’t help the small whines that escaped your lips, desperate for him to touch you more, to feel you.

He took his time, kissing your face, your neck and down your body slowly, worshipping every inch of you.

You whined when he gently kissed the inside of your thighs, the anticipation built up in you and he smirked, his chest swelling with pride at the state of you.

“Just relax, sweetheart… gonna make you feel good,” he mumbled softly before he attached his mouth to your weeping cunt.

Your whole body twitched back arching and a long moan tore from deep within your chest. You curled your fingers into the green sheets that adorned Draco’s four-poster bed, his tongue lapping away, producing wet sounds echoing throughout the prefects' dorm.

“Mmm, Draco, feels so good,” you whimpered.

Draco kept his eyes on your face, enjoying the way your eyes shut in pleasure and your mouth stood slightly agape. He smirked as your hips started grinding against his mouth, the pleasurable peak building up in your abdomen.

“Tastes so good, sweetheart,” he replied, voice muffled by your cunt.

His fingers dug into your hips, caressing them with his thumps softly as he let you grind against him; your movements turned more frantic and less rhythmic the closer you came to your release.

You couldn’t have held back if you tried, Draco’s tongue on your clit was what pushed you over the edge. Your right hand gripped Draco’s, squeezing it as you came. He used his tongue to work you through your release, revelling in the way you tensed and your body shook from the stimulation.

Draco parted with your cunt, a smile on his face as he wiped the slick from his chin with his free hand, cleaning it off his fingers with a smack of his lips.

He crawled over you, moving your hand with his to lay beside your head, leaning down to peck your lips.

“Think you can take one more, princess?”

You nodded, using your free hand to caress his cheek, leaving a gentle smile on his face.

“Good girl,” he hummed.

He quickly kicked off his boxers, only disconnecting your hands for a moment to remove his shirt before it was interlaced with yours once more.

Before he prepared himself to push into you, he grabbed a pillow from the headboard, tapping your hips for you to lift, placing the pillow under you. He smiled a pleased smile, checking that you were comfortable before he gently ran his tip through your folds, using your arousal as lubrication.

You both let out simultaneous gasps as he pushed in, the pleasure much better than before, but a slight burn still lingered from the stretch. You whined at the intrusion, your eyes shutting.

“Hey hey, sweetheart, look at me… good job… kiss me,” Draco soothed, leaning down to connect your lips to distract you from the slight discomfort - something he wished he’d done before.

You squeezed his hand and whimpered into the kiss, letting the pain turn to pleasure as Draco bottomed out in you, stilling for you to adjust.

After your nod of consent, he began moving his hips, thrusting into you with care and determination.

“Pretty angel,” he whispered, face hovering above yours.

You only moaned softly in response, your brain shutting down, the only thing occupying your thoughts being the feel of Draco’s cock dragging against the walls of your cunt.

Draco’s pubic bone dragged against your already sensitive clit, leaving your brain numb with the pleasure from the overstimulation.

The level of your noises increased with every snap of his hips against yours and your eyes fluttered, yet you desperately tried to keep them open.

“You’re close, baby…- just let go, cum for me,” Draco spoke softly, squeezing your hand and leaning down to meet your lips in a loving kiss.

You tried reciprocating the kiss as best as you could, interrupted now and again by a moan. It only took a couple of more strokes for you to fall over the edge, your free hand reaching up to grasp Draco’s bicep; your nails dug into his flesh as your body tensed, squeezing around his cock.

“Fuck fuck fuck, Draco,” you moaned and whimpered, lips brushing against his.

Draco smiled, his thrusts faster, seconds away from reaching his peak, “gonna cum.”

You whimpered, squeezing Draco’s hand, “please, inside me… need it.”

Draco chuckled lowly, releasing a grunt as he reconnected your lips. You moaned, feeling warmth fill you, Draco’s hips stilled flush against yours. You could’ve cum again just listening to the deep moaning grunts he produced, his body close and connected with yours as if you would disappear if he didn’t stay close.

“I’m sorry,” he panted, voice just above a whisper.

You pecked his lips, moving your free hand up to caress his face, “it’s okay, Draco.”

He watched you, his face twisted as he was considering something, hesitating.

“You hate it when I’m mean to you?”

You were slightly taken aback by the question, his softening cock still inside you.

You nodded softly, “but it was the only way to get you to talk to me…- or notice me,” you blushed, embarrassed by your confession.

Draco’s face softened, even more, something unreadable flashing in his eyes, “pretty baby, that’s not true,” he cooed.

You smiled softly, “maybe we can talk about this when you’re not still inside me.”

Draco laughed, a genuine laugh, “of course, darling… let’s get you cleaned up.”

stranded | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x afab!fem!reader

summary: you get stranded in the middle of a blizzard. joel comes to your rescue. you share a bed for warmth. things escalate from there...

warnings/tags: 18+ content, MDNI!, smutttttt yurrrr (vaginal fingering, unprotected piv sex, dubious consent, lil bit of somnophilia, joel is packinggg), no outbreak!joel, modern au, implied age gap, soft!joel, pet names (peach, baby, darlin', sweet girl, sweetheart), lil bit of joel being jelly, cuddling to keep the cold at bay, fluff, NO USE OF Y/N

word count: 7.6k (idk what the fuck happened)

“Fuck!” 

You press down hard on the gas pedal, grimacing when your engine revs but the car doesn’t move an inch.

Your tires skid uselessly over the snow and your headlights reflect into a white wall of nothing—the snowfall so thick you can’t see anything in front of or around you, as if you’re trapped in a snow globe. The road is practically gone from existence. 

Your wipers try their best. 

The only thing you can hear is the wind whistling and the staticky sound of Carrie Underwood’s ‘Jesus Take the Wheel’ going in and out on the radio.

Yeah, you wish he would right about now. 

“Fuuuck,” you whine again, eyes stinging with unshed tears. You hit your wheel in frustration, dropping your forehead onto the horn. It honks pityingly. 

Of course, the one time you were actually going out, you had forgotten to check the weather. 

You’re probably going to die out here on this back road through the woods. There’s no one around, not that you can tell, and you’re low on gas. You were going to fill up once you got out of the woods and back into civilization, but the blizzard had other plans.

Your stomach rumbles, crying out for the dinner you had skipped in hopes of having a hearty, post-sex meal with the hook-up you are—or were—on the way to see. Though, that’s certainly not happening, and the snacks you usually had stuffed into the glovebox are gone, your sister having stolen them last week after you dropped her off at school.

(Darn that growing goober!) 

You don’t have anything that might prove useful in this situation besides the long, slim heels on your pumps (which could be used in defense), and the thin peacoat wrapped around your shoulders. You check your phone to see if you can call emergency services, but of course, it has zero bars. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whimper, pressing the heel of your palm to your watering eyes. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” you say to yourself, picking your head up and rubbing away the tears in your eyes. You take deep breaths and put the car into park. “You’ll be fine.”

The sudden sound of a knock on your window startles you so bad you yelp, jumping in place as ice cold terror rises up your spine. 

You can hardly see who had knocked, only their gray silhouette in the white blizzard.

The stranger knocks again. 

“You alright in there?” The shadow asks, a hint of a Texan accent curling their vowels. Shit. It’s a man. 

You slowly grab your shoe from your foot, holding it so the heel faces the window, and snow blows into your face as you carefully roll it down an inch or two for precaution, because who knows if it’s a fucking cannibal-axe-murderer who preys on unsuspecting women stranded in the snow. Maybe he does this every year—maybe this is his prime harvesting place and time. 

Your eyes are wide as you peer through the opening warily, heel at the ready. 

He’s close enough now that you can make out a prominent scowl, hard brown eyes, salt and pepper hair…

…wait a minute. You’d recognize that glower anywhere.

“Joel?”

Your lungs suddenly remember how to work again, and you inhale on a shaky breath. The hand holding your shoe drops to your thigh in relief.

His brown eyes narrow. “Peach…? The hell are you doin’ out here?” He asks, and Jesus you forgot about that stupid nickname he gave you. It sends butterflies loose in your stomach. “It’s a goddamn blizzard.” 

You scowl in exasperation, though, at his obvious observation. “Yeah, I think I know that, Joel. What are you doing here?”

“I heard a honk, figured someone needed help.” He looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on the circles of mascara around your eyes. “Guess I’m right.”

You straighten in your seat, the surge of gratitude at his presence is overshadowed by the need to look self sufficient and capable, because you are. You’ve been paying your rent all on your own, buying your own groceries, making your own meals. You’re a grown ass woman! So…

“Actually, I don’t need your help, Joel. I meant to go into this snowbank,” you lie.

“Oh really?” He asks, dubious, immediately picking up on it. 

“Yes, and I'm going to get out of it. Just watch!" 

You’re making a fool of yourself, but at this point, you really don’t want to be rescued by him if only because of the bruise to your ego and definitely not because of other extenuating circumstances. You feel a boost of confidence when Joel actually steps back from the car when you start it up again, like he really believes you, but then when you shift the gear into reverse and try to make it out of the snow bank, nothing happens.

Joel steps up again, leans an arm on the frame of your car, and taps your window once more. “C’mon. Let’s go.” 

God, this is so embarrassing!

“Fine.” You roll up the window and turn off the car. Joel tugs the car door open as far as it can go and offers a gloved hand to help you out. You wobble a bit when you step out in your heels, grateful that Joel is there to steady you. Though, the feeling sours a bit when he huffs in disbelief at your shoes. 

You send him a glare, “I had plans for tonight, okay?”

“In the middle of a blizzard?” He deadpans.

“It wasn’t that bad when I first started driving.”

“Riiiight,” he drawls, “Well, I’m sorry to say, peach, but you ain’t driving in this mess anymore. You can stay with me tonight.” He says, closing the car door behind you. 

Stay? With him? 

“Joel, I couldn’t bother you with—“

“I wouldn’t offer if it was a bother.”

Joel’s as stubborn as a bull, more so than Ellie. And she is stubborn. You don’t argue, because it’s fruitless to argue with a brick wall like him. And, faced with freezing to death out here or staying in a well-insulated building, choosing the latter is obviously the right thing to do.

“Okay,” you relent and point to your trunk. “I have a bag back there.”

He raises a brow. “Heels and a bag…What kind of plans were we talkin’ about here?”

A hook up, Joel, you mentally drawl. Because…that’s exactly why you were out. 

Like hell you’ll tell Joel that, though, he’d disapprove. He’s always been the protective type. You’ve known him since your junior year in college, after your families practically merged. But you’ve never seen Joel as another dad. He’s always been…something else to you.

“A trip to Nunya.” You supply instead of the truth, crossing your arms over your chest to try and conserve some heat. 

“Nunya?” Joel’s brows furrow. 

“Yeah. Nunya business, Joel.” You give him a sardonic smile. 

He shakes his head and sends you a look you’re quite familiar with, the one that makes you feel inches smaller. And ten degrees hotter. 

Joel sighs in exasperation and wordlessly wrenches the trunk open. He slings your bag over his shoulder as if it weighs nothing.

(It weighs a lot. You’d know, you shoved five different erotica books in there, just in case your date failed to make you orgasm.)

(Though thinking about Joel probably would’ve been enough.) 

You lock your vehicle with a bemused glance. “What are we gonna do about my car?” 

“I’ll tow it out tomorrow,” Joel says. “Roads are a fuckin’ mess right now.”

You trudge behind Joel to his quaint cottage sleeping cozily between tall pine trees and chubby evergreens. The porch light is on, and the windows glow a comforting orange. Puffs of smoke drift up from the chimney. It looks warm and inviting, like straight out of a Christmas movie. 

You’re impressed at how close you managed to strand yourself to his house. Maybe Jesus really did take the wheel. 

Joel kicks the snow off his boots on his front porch, then opens the door, gesturing for you to enter first. 

When you breach the doorway with Joel at your heels, warmth settles over your cold-bitten cheeks along with an alluring aroma of meat and tomato and spices that hits you in a wave. You’ve never seen Joel cook anything other than Chef Boyardee Beefaroni, or burgers on Tommy’s rusting grill before. Could…someone else be here? 

“Joel,” you whisper, your hand landing on his arm. He sets your bag down in the foyer with a grunt and shrugs out of his coat. 

“What?”

You point to the kitchen. “Is someone here? Am I intruding?”

Joel glances at the kitchen then back at you with a confused expression that evens out into a self-satisfied smirk when he realizes what you’re asking.

“What, you think I’ve got a date over?” 

Embarrassment creeps through you. “Who else could be cooking!”

He looks offended, though there’s a twitch to his lip, as if he’s trying not to laugh. “I’m perfectly capable.”

“Joel,” you say, unimpressed.

“I'm alone, peach,” he reassures, hanging his coat up. “That’s my cookin’ you’re smellin’.”

Your eyes widen, genuine surprise written on your features, relief lingering behind it as you take your own coat off. “Is it edible though?” 

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

Joel starts toward the kitchen and you trail behind him. As you follow, you take in his aggressively Texan decor and furniture. Paintings of cowboys and horses and mountains are hung artfully on cozy, beige walls. The Eagles’ discography drifts merrily in the air from an old record player. There’s a guitar stationed in practically every corner. It’s all so very Joel, though the random space ornamentals and butterfly drawings sprinkled about are so very Ellie and Sarah. It makes you smile. 

“Where are the girls?” You ask, because usually those little stinkers would be stationed at the dining room table, bickering over the answer to a ridiculously difficult math problem.

“At Dina’s,” he answers, taking off his gloves. “They wanted to play in the snow.”

Oh. So you’re here alone with him. Anxiety prickles at the edges of your mind, sinking in your stomach.

“I guess I was the only one that didn’t know about the blizzard, then.” 

“You must be livin’ under a rock to not know about it.”

You grumble in protest, but your grievances disintegrate on your tongue as you enter the kitchen and near the simmering pot. You breathe in the aroma, the smell so powerful it's almost like you’re actually tasting it. 

You look over your shoulder at him. “Is this chili?”

He nods. “Want some?”

“Hell yes.”

He comes up beside you to open a cabinet. “Go ‘head make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll bring it out to you.” Your mouth dries at the sliver of skin that peeks out beneath his flannel as he reaches up.

You force yourself to turn around. “Wow. Such a gentleman, didn’t realize you were capable,” you say, your saccharine sweet tone doing well to mask how flustered you feel. You can breathe easier the second you exit the kitchen and enter the living room. 

His voice follows you. “A simple ‘thank you’ ‘stead'a this attitude would do you some good, y'know?"

"I know," you sing-song, grinning as you settle yourself down onto his couch, grabbing a blanket from a basket on the way. A fire crackles in the hearth and you study the flames with fascination as warmth spreads across your skin. You tug the blanket around you, pulling it up to your chin. 

Joel emerges a minute later and your gaze darts from the fire to the bowl he holds out to you. “Here.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you say emphatically, accepting the bowl and cradling it in your hands. 

He smiles, “There we go. Guess you do have some manners.”

You give him a half-bow. Joel just smiles in that familiar way, like you’re just so ridiculous he can’t believe it. It makes your stomach curl giddily. 

Having rolled up the sleeves of his flannel to his elbows, Joel’s forearms are on display, muscles flexing as he tosses another log into the hearth, and you drop your gaze to your chili, as to not get caught staring. He sits down in the armchair adjacent to you with his own bowl.

You blow on the steaming chili before taking a bite, an involuntary moan releasing from you the moment it hits your tongue—paprika, peppers, tomato, cumin. It warms your stomach pleasantly. Who knew Joel could cook so well?

“This is so good,” you mumble around your bite. 

He swallows his own chili down, pupils large as he watches you. “Edible enough for ya?”

You nod enthusiastically, “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

“Mmhmm,” he hums, unconvinced, but he’s smiling at you again, and you can’t help but return it. 

Comfortable silence lapses between the both of you as you eat your meals. Joel finishes first, of course, setting his bowl on the coffee table and leaning into his chair with a satisfied groan. He throws an arm over the back, spreading his legs. You watch him while he watches the fire, heat licking through you.

Eventually, after you slow down, you speak again.

“Thank you, Joel, seriously, for letting me stay.”

His eyes find yours and he nods. “‘Course, peach. Wouldn’t’ve let you freeze out there.” 

You nod and glance around, taking in his cabin. A large, stone fireplace is set in the wall, a tree trunk coffee table stationed in the center of the living room, some handmade wood carvings of horses and other animals scattered about. There’s a drawing of himself sitting on the mantel, “To: Joel, From: Ellie” signed at the bottom. Your heart swells. 

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been here,” you remark.

“I know,” Joel says. “You should come around more often. The girls miss you.”

Your smile turns shy and you feel a spike of bravery. “What about you? Do you miss me?” 

He takes a moment to answer, a veiny hand coming up to rub at his beard as he leans on the arm of the chair. Onyx eyes drag down your figure. “‘Course I do, darlin’” 

Heat pools hot and thick between your thighs at that look, and you’re about to press him about how much he really misses you when a buzzing in your pocket captures your attention. Your phone. Guess you have some bars now. 

marcus: where r u?

Oh right, the hookup!

you: blizzard blocked the roads. won’t make it tonight.

marcus: ok. 

You scoff at the lack of depth in his response. Not even a “stay safe out there”? Jesus. You settle into the couch with a frustrated sigh, head thumping against the cushions, eyes falling shut as exhaustion creeps into you. 

Boys always thinking with their dicks. Why do you even bother?

“What’s that about?” Joel asks. You peek an eye open at him. Firelight dances across his tan skin. He gestures to your phone. “That gotta do with the real reason for your trip tonight?” 

You rub your temple, “Yeah.”

He hums. "...Listen, I know it's none of my business but—“ 

"It was a hookup, Joel," you interrupt, already knowing where he was going with that. He tends to do that, beat around the bush so much until you’re desperate to just say it. More desperate than he was to know it. You’d rather just skip that whole process. 

"Oh,” his brows furrow.

"Yeah," you repeat dumbly, fiddling with the blanket.

"There, uh, ain't no shame in that, darlin'."

You quirk a skeptical brow, "I know."

"Alright," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact with you. Awkwardness settles between you.

"Things are just a bit dry," you supply, though you have no idea why you're still talking, or why you described yourself and the state of your love-life like that because Joel doesn't need to know that. Nobody needs to know that

But it captures his attention, because he's looking at you again, though this time annoyance is written on his features, along with something else you can’t name, his eyes practically black. Damnit, you knew he’d disapprove, even if he claims there’s no shame in it.

“And you went to some random boy for that?"

You straighten on the couch. "Who else am I supposed to go to, Joel? You?” Sarcasm drips from your words. 

What the hell is he implying?

His gaze jumps to the fire, the muscles in his jaw clenching, his fingers flexing on the arm of his chair. "Never mind I said anythin'."

Your arms cross defensively over your chest. "I don't need your judgment, Joel.”

"I ain't judgin'."

"Sure sounds like it."

He stands abruptly, running a hand through his peppered locks. "I'm not, I just—listen, it's gettin' late. You should sleep. I didn’t have time to get the girls’ room ready, do you want my bed?”

You shake your head, "Couch is perfectly fine, Joel. Thanks."

“You sure?”

“Yes, Joel. I’m a grown woman who can handle her decisions.” 

"I know that.” Frustration laces his words. He sighs, hand coming up to rest on his belt. “Just... let me know if you need anythin'."

“You got it.”

He turns the living room light off on the way to his bedroom down the hall. You don’t watch him leave. 

Once he's gone, you change into your pajamas and settle yourself on the couch beneath a blanket or two. The crackling of the fire and the howling wind outside lulls you to sleep faster than you expect. 

-----

“Fuck.”

The aggressive shivers that wrack your body are what wake you up in the middle of the night. 

Your blanket is wrapped tightly around you, but it’s a thin, furry thing. Nothing like the down comforter you have at home. The fire has also gone out in the hearth, low flames flickering in the ash.

You pull the blanket up to your chin, curling in on yourself as the cold permeates your skin. 

Aside from the chattering of your teeth and the squall outside, it’s eerily silent in the house. You realize, now, that the whooshes from the heating system you had grown accustomed to before are gone

Shit.

You reach for the lamp on the side table, pulling down on the chain. It doesn’t turn on.

“Shit.” 

You sit up, blanket wrapped around your waist. The power is out. The snow storm must’ve knocked out a power line. It’s too cold to stay out here with only your thin blanket and the clothes on your back. And Joel had said…

Let me know if you need anythin’.

You really don’t want to bother him, but the goose flesh rippling across your skin and the pathetic way your lips are quivering, along with the shudders that wrack your body as it attempts to maintain homeostasis are not something you can just sleep through.

You tightly wrap your blanket around your shoulders and tiptoe down the hall. You can see a warm light from Joel’s bedroom, the flicker of a flame on the cream walls.

You slowly push the door open but hesitate at the sight of Joel buried comfortably beneath his comforter. You don’t want to wake him… but his room is awfully toasty from the fire crackling away in his own hearth. And his bed looks absolutely heavenly. 

You steel yourself and pad to the side he sleeps on. 

“Joel?” You whisper. He doesn’t respond.

You lean over to gently push his shoulder. “Joel.”

“Mm—“ His brows furrow, and he scrunches further into the blankets, reminiscent of a cat curling its paws over its head when woken up.

You push his shoulder again, a bit harder this time. “Joel. Wake up.”

He swats at the air, as if your hand is a fly buzzing around his ear. “‘M awake,” he mumbles against the pillow. 

“Joel—the power went out. I’m freezing.”

He’s silent for a moment, eyes still shut. He’s no doubt rolling the words around in his head, trying to make sense of them through a sleepy haze.  

Then, when he does, he wordlessly scoots back and reaches for the comforter. He lifts it, offering the space next to him to you.

“C’mere.” 

You splutter, taken off guard by the invitation. “What? Joel—“

“‘M not askin’, peach. C’mere.” The last word leaves his lips like a command, and you straighten reflexively, apprehension holding your limbs hostage as want curls dangerously low in your abdomen at his tone of voice. That should be enough warning to not climb into bed with him.

You debate telling him to get his ass up and give you another blanket along with a couple more logs in the hearth so you can avoid any kind of proximity between you (lest you feel those capital-f Feelings), but you can practically feel the heat radiating from the bed and his body beckoning you in. 

Oh fuck it.

You let loose a shaky breath and hesitantly slip beneath the covers, facing away from him. You stay glued to the edge of the bed, careful not to let any part of you touch him. Your legs curl into your chest for extra measure. Immediately, it’s so much better. So warm. So comfortable.

And it smells like Joel.

You inhale the earthy and spicy scent of him that lingers on the linen as your head sinks into the soft pillow, but your inhale chokes off as Joel’s strong arm snakes around your waist beneath the comforter, his large hand burning like a brand when it settles hot over your stomach.

He pulls you into him, the sheets swishing as he tucks you into his body. Your back slots against his warm, broad naked chest. His bare legs intertwine with yours, his pelvis almost flush against your ass, only covered by a thin pair of briefs. 

Holy shit. 

You can feel everything. 

“Joel?” You question, voice quivering at the sudden closeness. “What are you doing?”

“Keepin’ you warm,” he mumbles against the nape of your neck. 

You do feel warmer, though it might not be entirely because he’s holding you, but rather because of how he’s holding you. He’s curled around you, like a koala around a tree, thighs bracketing yours. 

You can feel his beard scraping at the nape of your neck, breaths puffing against your feverish skin. 

His thumb is rubbing softly along the pudge of your tummy, palm branding your skin, his fingers dipping innocently beneath the hem of your shorts. 

You can barely breathe, or even think, heartbeat stuttering as arousal pools liquid hot and heavy between your legs. Every unknowing twitch from Joel’s fingers makes it worse. Every touch of his calloused fingertips against your skin is pure agony. Every brush of your ass against his pelvis has you throbbing. You stare wide-eyed into the darkness, gaze roaming the pitch black, as if something out there could make you forget about the ever-growing desire you feel for Joel. 

You can’t sleep like this.

It seems like Joel can though, appearing to already be deep in slumber. He hasn’t moved in a few minutes, his exhales even and slow against you. 

You try to ignore the wetness between your legs, ignore the instinctual urge to roll your hips back against him. You should just go to sleep. But this ache you feel, pounding and deep and relentless…You have to do something about it, even with Joel holding you close.

He won’t mind…right?

But how are you supposed to touch yourself with Joel’s hand in the way? 

You could just move it. That’s the right thing to do, but it feels too good, so hot and heavy on you that you just don’t want to, and as a result, an idea so absolutely fucked worms its way into your mind, lust and desperation destroying any last semblance of rational thought. You could…

No. No. You can’t do that. He’s a human fucking being, not a hand shaped vibrator. 

But… you really want to, and he’s asleep so…he won’t even know…right?

You make up your mind and slowly curl your fingers around Joel’s deadweight palm, biting your lip in concentration and shame as you carefully urge his hand further into your shorts. After each nudge of his palm, you wait to see if Joel gives you any sign of him being awake. But he’s dead asleep. After a moment, you keep going. 

This is so fucked, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you finally feel his thick fingers brush over your clothed folds.

“Shit,” you whisper, breathlessly, holding back a whimper. You manipulate his hand so that his palm is resting large and warm over your aching clit, while his index and middle finger are placed heavily above your heat. 

And then, you really say fuck you to your morals. 

You give an experimental thrust of your hips into his palm, shuddering at the contact against your clit. Then you wait to see if Joel reacts, your head tilting a bit to look over your shoulder. But Joel hasn’t moved, hasn’t said a word. Good.

Confident he won’t wake, you rock your hips again and again, holding onto his hand with your own, pressing it down with each thrust of your hips to get that sweet contact. The heel of his palm bumps your aching clit with each thrust, and you bite back moans and whimpers well enough, but you can’t hide the deepening of your breaths as you climb closer and closer to your climax.

Everything else fades away as you just focus on that one goal. On crawling over the edge. You hardly feel the growing smirk pressed to the back of your neck, or the way Joel’s cock is now hard against your ass as you grind against his palm.

“F-fuck,” you huff, eyes tightly shut as you ground yourself in his presence behind you, the beat of his heart thudding against your spine, the rise and fall of his chest, the light, unconscious brush of his lips on your neck. Closure is on the horizon as you imagine him lifting up on his arm and leaning over to actually get you off, his teeth biting down on your shoulder as he thrusts his fingers into your aching cunt. 

“Joel—“ you quietly moan. 

The moment his name slips from your lips, his hand suddenly pulls back, and you let out a frustrated groan (he can’t do that!), which quickly turns into a squeak of mortification (oh yes, he absolutely can!).

Because Joel is awake. 

He. Is. Awake.

And he knows what you were doing, his chest rumbling against your spine as he—is he fucking laughing at you?

“Needy girl, aren’t you, peach?”

Mortification ignites in your cheeks, nausea pooling in your stomach. “Joel, oh my god, I’m so sorry—“

His hand gravitates to your thigh, curling around it. He pulls it up, inserting his knee in between your legs and he griiiinds it into your clothed cunt. Your desperate apology is cut off by a reflexive wanton moan, your back arching as pleasure reverberates inside you.

“‘S okay, baby, I understand. So fuckin’ desperate you had to use me while I was sleepin’, huh? Didn’t get what you wanted earlier so now you’re searchin’ for somethin’ else, hm?”

His large hand finds your waist again, sliding down your stomach to inch beneath both your shorts and your panties now. You gasp as his fingertips find your clit easily.

“I’m just a ‘lil offended I wasn’t your first choice,” he chides, fingers slipping through your soaking folds. “But I like this much better than you findin’ some boy to get you off. You need’a be fucked by a man, darlin’. Ain’t that right?” 

His words send heat straight to your core, thighs clenching around his knee as he ruts it against you while simultaneously stimulating your clit with his fingers.

“Yes, Joel,” you moan. “Need you.” 

His teeth scrape against your throat when he growls, “Goddamn right you do.”

You can’t believe this is happening.

Joel slides his hand further into your panties, his middle finger curling in to sink into your soaked cunt. You choke on a gasp. 

“Who’s the guy?” He asks, randomly, while his finger rocks into you.

You can’t think as Joel inserts his ring finger alongside the other, stretching you so deliciously. “W-what?”

“The boy you were gonna see tonight. Who is he?” 

Who was it? Mark? Matt? And why does he care? You don’t know, you don’t care, only thoughts of Joel Joel Joel consume your waking being. 

“I—I don’t know, Joel. Please, oh my god.” 

He hums pityingly. “Poor thing can't even remember his name.” His other hand comes up to slide through your hair, gripping the locks at the nape of your neck. He tugs, and you melt. “I’ll make sure you don’t forget mine.” 

He doesn’t need to worry about that.

Joel moves his thumb to circle your clit as he thrusts his thick, long fingers up and into you, curling them to hit that spot that has your heartbeat dropping between your thighs, desperate and loud and begging for release. 

“Hhhoh— Joel!” 

“Tha’s right, baby. So goddamn wet. You’ve been dealin’ with this for awhile now, huh?”

You nod into the pillow on a broken moan as his fingers withdraw and sink into you at a steady pace, his thumb circling and circling and circling.

“Words, baby.”

You cry out, hands gripping the pillow. “Yes, yes. Joel. Been wanting this f’so long.”

“Should’a come to me first. Would’a helped you out a long time ago,” he drawls.

Yes you absolutely should have, based on how quickly you’re approaching your orgasm.

Your cries are so loud, but you don’t care, focusing only on your pleasure and the feel of Joel’s mouth on your throat. 

You’re finally getting what you want. And fuck, is it amazing.

Your eyes roll back as it all builds up inside you, Joel’s hand unrelenting as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge.

You’re scorching, everything hot and intense, your stomach tightening, your legs stretching out as the pleasure builds and builds.

Fuck, you’re gonna cum—

It rips through you violently, eyes prickling with tears, your thighs clenching as your walls bare down repeatedly around Joel’s fingers, making him groan. 

“Good girl,” Joel murmurs, hand eventually inching out of you and your shorts to squeeze your thigh appreciatively as aftershocks run through you, thighs quaking and clit throbbing. “That’s what you needed, huh? S’it feel good, cummin’ all over my fingers?”

His fucking voice!

“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement, sinking into the sheets, eyes drooping shut as pleasure lulls you to sleep. 

He tsks, “Wake up, darlin’ I ain’t done with you yet.”

His beard scrapes against your neck as he moves to your ear.

“It’s my turn to use you.”

Your eyes shoot open. Fuck. 

Joel pulls your panties down your legs as far as he can, and you squirm to wriggle them off of you.

He pulls away for a moment, but when he’s back, the bare, hot, thick length of him is pressed between your ass cheeks, and a full body shudder runs through you.

Holy shit, he’s big.

He grips your thigh again, but this time he throws it over his own. And then you feel it, the slick head of his cock as he guides it through your folds.

Oh fuck.

“You okay, peach?” He asks, laying a gentle kiss on your shoulder. Now you have tears in your eyes for an entirely different reason. His hand slides across your waist and up beneath the hem of your shirt, palming your breast. Your nipples tighten. 

Your mouth feels dry and you swallow down a lump of lava. “Y-yes, Joel.”

“Good. Wanna give you all of me, how’s that sound, darlin’?”

You will take whatever, anything you can get from Joel.

“Good, Joel. Yes, please, oh my god.”  

“There are those manners.”

A desperate whine slips from your lips as he directs the head of his cock into you, slowly and carefully, his hand running up and down your thigh in comforting strokes. God, he’s stretching you so much, hot and thick and pulsing inside you. It’s almost painful, but it’s a welcome pain.

“Jesus, Joel,” you moan when he stops to let you breathe, “You’re so big.”

“I ain’t even halfway in yet, darlin’.”

“W-what?” How is that even possible? 

“You can take it.” He says, sliding in some more and fuck you don’t have much of a choice. but you can, and you will because he feels too fucking good, and you’re ready for him to make you feel it into next week.

“Is…is it all the way in yet?” You ask, thoroughly stretched and filled. 

“Almost, sweet girl,” he breathes. “Goddamn, you’re tight.”

That makes you clench down even more, and he releases a pained groan behind you. “Relax, darlin’, c’mon.”

You do your best and let yourself sink into the bed, taking deep breaths and concentrating on the crackling of the fire.

And then, he thrusts fully into you, filling you up completely, and your mind is right back to him, a soft cry slipping from your lips into the pillow.

 “There we go, tha’s it. Good job. Taking me so well,” he croons, stroking your side.

“F-fuck me, Joel, please move.”

He squeezes your ass in his large palm in retaliation to your command. “You use me, I use you, remember?”

But he listens anyway, likely desperate to move himself, because then he’s gripping your hip with a large hand and pulling back just to sheath himself fully into you once more, his cock head bumping against your cervix, and holy fucking shit.

“Joel!” You cry, and he leans over to kiss you, teeth biting at your plump lower lip as he thrusts into you again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

He rolls into you at a steady, bruising pace, and you’re practically boneless as you just take it. Cries and whimpers and moans spilling out of you like a gas leak as he mouths down your throat, sucking and biting and oh my god this is way better than just getting yourself off on his hand. 

Then Joel shifts, pushing at your side to press your stomach into the mattress. You whine as he pulls out of you to situate himself behind you. He grabs your hips with both hands and pulls them up and backwards, easing himself back into you until your ass meets his skin, then he rolls his hips, driving his cock deep from a brand new angle.

All you can do is sob into the pillow. 

He’s so fucking big, so fucking deep you can’t think of anything else besides him and his wonderful cock, or the filthy things he’s whispering into your shoulder blades.

His large hand plants itself on your spine, and your hands scramble for purchase on a pillow.

“Sweet girl, taking me so fuckin’ well,” he purrs. “You were desperate for this cock, huh? God, I wish you could see yourself. Split open on me like this. Your little boy toy wouldn’t be able to fuck you like this, ain’t that right?"

You shake your head. God, why did you even make that dick appointment in the first place?

You hadn’t even realized what being fucked by a “real man” meant until now.

Joel knows how to fucking deliver, you guess that’s why he’s so successful in his contracting business. He’s delivering you straight to that blessed release. 

You clench around the girth of him, the filthy sounds of your arousal echoing in his room along with the cracks and snaps from the fire burning steadily in the hearth.

If you couldn’t sleep before, you definitely will be able to after this because you’re mindless as he fucks you into oblivion.

“Joel, fuck—mmph—!” 

“Yeah, that’s right. Can’t say anythin’ but my name.”

His breathing has become more labored, desperate grunts escaping his lips as his cock twitches inside of you. He’s getting close, deep and gravely moans falling out of him as his thrusts become harder and more sporadic.

His hand sneaks around your front, spanning your entire stomach as he slides down to your soaking folds, his middle and ring finger finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and giving them a gentle tap before circling, using that same method from before that had you squirming.

You writhe on his length, legs falling out beneath you as your orgasm swells within you. 

“Please Joel,” you whimper into the pillow. 

“I’ve got you,” he promises. 

It’s there, filling your body, building and cresting and searing white-hot through your limbs. 

And then he thrusts a certain way, hitting that spot within you, and his fingers are circling and—

Yeah.

You fall boneless to the mattress as you come apart, your arousal coating Joel’s cock as he continues to fuck you through your release, stroking your spine. Pleasure floods through your body as the tension releases, and tears freely fall as you cry into the pillow.

Because goddamn it!

How can something feel so good? 

And then Joel’s pulling out of you and letting loose a long, satisfied moan as he comes all over your back, hot stripes painting you. 

He collapses next to you, groaning something about his back.

And you can’t help but laugh, delirious and soft, and Joel’s laughing too, brown eyes sparkling. His calloused hand comes up, runs his thumb along your jaw, and he’s smiling at you, soft and unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.

“You alright, peach?”

“Ohhh yeah,” you giggle, sighing with contentment.

You’re gonna be feeling this for days, just like you wanted.

Joel’s lips brush against your forehead gently, and you’re too tired to acknowledge it, slumber pulling you under far too quickly. You think you can feel the gentle swipe of a wet washcloth on your back before you pass out.

-----

“Fuck…”

The bed is empty when you wake, and a spike of anxiety shoots through you as you sit up. A fire still crackles in the hearth, a fresh log dropped in the ash. On the night stand is a note, beneath it, one of Joel’s t-shirts, your jeans, and a pair of your underwear. 

Mortification climbs through you as you read:

Peach,

My bathroom’s on the left if you’d like to shower. I hope you don’t mind, I went through your bag to get you some panties  underwear. Lot of books in there. You sure like to read.

Oh god, he found your erotica stack. The covers are not misleading, either, he definitely knows what kind of books they are. You force yourself to keep reading through the humiliation.

I’m out picking up Sarah and Ellie, I’ll be home soon. There’s pancakes on the counter. We’ll tow your car when I get back.

Also–about last night…we don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. But, I want you to know that if you ever need something like that again, I’m here. And for anything else. I’m here. Always. 

See you soon. 

Warmth fills your body and you reread those last sentences over and over. 

Always. Does he really mean that? 

You check the alarm clock on his nightstand–it’s eleven fucking a.m. Holy shit, you haven’t slept that late in a long time. 

When you stand, an ache radiates through you, and memories of last night flit in your mind and along with them, a fresh new wave of arousal. You scramble for the shower.

You emerge fresh and clean twenty minutes later, smelling like Joel, having only his body wash and shampoo to use. Each inhale is practically torture, and the ache between your legs is just another reminder. Seeing yourself in his shirt makes it worse. You try and push it away.

You descend the steps, halting when you hear the sound of Ellie’s voice from the kitchen.

“And I was like, pew pew! And I got both of them out!”

Sarah’s scoff of disbelief follows. “Nuh-uh! You didn’t even hit me!”

You creep down the steps, smiling a bit at Ellie’s outcry of “Yes I fucking did!”, and then you hear it–Joel’s low laugh, the Texan drawl.

“You kiddos are gonna drive me crazy. Just eat your damn pancakes.”

“Why’d you make these in the first place? You don’t even like pancakes,” Sarah teases. 

“Uh…”

You decide you should probably help him out. “Hey girls.”

Three heads snap in your direction. The eyes of one skirting down your body, a blush creeping across his cheeks. The other two brighten in shock. 

“What are you doing here!” Ellie gasps. 

“We haven’t seen you in forever!” Sarah adds.

You enter the kitchen and come up behind them to pull them in for a hug, your arms hooking around their necks. You smush their cheeks against yours. Ellie grumbles, Sarah laughs.

“I know! I’ve missed you guys so much. I’m just super busy with being an adult and all that shit,” you say, letting them go so they can breathe. You round the island, grabbing a plate and stacking two pancakes on it.

“Well, stop being busy. We miss you,” Ellie says.

“If I could, I would.”

“Why are you wearing Dad’s shirt?” Sarah asks, eyes narrowing, a mischievous smile pulling at her lips.

“I–um–” the question catches you off guard, and you scramble for an excuse, eyes flicking to Joel desperately. He clears his throat and crosses his arms over his broad chest, now covered in yet another, dark flannel. How many does he own?

“Snowstorm stranded her here last night, and she didn’t have any clean clothes,” Joel says, definitively.

It’s not a lie at all, and yet, it feels like one.

Sarah and Ellie exchange a look that says, yeah fucking right. You shovel pancake into your mouth to try and cool down the blush in your cheeks. 

“Speakin’ of,” he continues, “I’ve got the tow dolly all hooked up so when you’re done, we can tow your car out.”

“Great. Thank you, Joel.”

His brown eyes flick between yours, his hand coming up to rest large and warm on your shoulder. “‘Course, sweetheart.” 

You finish your pancakes without any more embarrassing questions from the girls, thank God, and then you’re out in the snow wearing a pair of Joel’s boots stuffed with socks (they’re too big, but they’re better than heels) and bundled up in one of his coats, watching Joel tow your tiny car out of the snowbank.

It’s just as cold as yesterday, though the dreary sky has cleared into a baby blue, the sun bright and high above the clouds. The roads are clearer, the snow plows having come by not too long ago. 

You grimace as you hear your car groan and creak as Joel pulls it out of the snow, big puffs of it falling off the roof in clumps. Eventually, it’s on solid ground once more, and he tows it back toward his cabin. 

Back in the driveway, Joel hops out of his truck and double checks your car. He pats the roof of it when he deems it accetable. “All good to go, sweetheart.”

You sigh in relief, “Thank you so much Joel, seriously.”

He nods, though he looks…nervous for some reason. “‘Course, darlin’. Glad I could help.”

You don’t really want to leave, but you’ve bothered him long enough, so you stroll to the driver's side and go to open it, but suddenly Joel’s hand comes down to keep it closed. You look up at him confused. 

His expression is hard, serious as he looks down at you. “Do you regret last night?”

Well. You were not expecting that. You thought that, maybe, it would just remain undiscussed. A blip. Something you both shared, but never spoke of again. You know your answer, though.

 “No. I don’t.”

“Good,” he says, eyes dark, “me either.”

He opens the door for you, pauses for a second then shuts it, voice desperate. “I just need to say this, before you go.”

You nod, encouraging him to go on.

He takes a deep breath, rakes a hand through his graying locks. Pinches the bridge of his nose, and shuts his eyes tight. When he opens them again, there's a hard determination in them. Your pulse quickens, your legs turn to jelly.

“I like you, peach,” he says. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me because of the whole single father thing. And, also because I’m me. But I just thought I’d tell you how I felt, because,” he huffs out a laugh, shakes his head, “I’m thinkin’ you might like me, too.”

Your hands are shaking, and not because of the cold. Maybe you should buy a lottery ticket with how lucky you've been these past fifteen hours.

“I’ve liked you since the moment I met you, Joel," you confess. 

“Oh,” he says, breathless, and a smile pulls at his lips.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your own grin forming to match his. 

The breeze shakes the evergreens, drifting flakes of snow onto Joel’s graying hair. His nose is reddened by the biting cold, but his eyes are warm as he smiles down at you. 

“Not gonna lie to you sweetheart, I’m kind of glad you got stranded here.”

"Yeah, me too," you laugh, and then you pull him down to you, pressing your lips against his, smiling into the kiss.

This kiss is the exact opposite of the one he gave you last night. It’s careful, sweet, tentative. He reveres your mouth, rather than ravishes it. You’re both bundled in multiple layers, standing in the freezing cold rather than lying naked in a warm bed. 

And yet, it’s just as perfect, if not more.

Eventually Joel pulls back, hands heavy on your waist. He’s still grinning. His hands frame your face, his thumb running softly along your cheekbone. 

“Peach,” he says. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

badass reader...i like it

Taming Cowardly Lions | Riddle!Reader

Summary: Riddle!Reader hears people talking bad about Luna.

Warning: 'Mudblood'

Requested: No

Leaning on the huge desk in the front of the potions classroom Y/N riddle twirled their wand round their ringers waiting for professor Snape to arrive, They along with their fellow Slytherin were getting a little agitated with the mans tardiness more so since they were sharing a class with Gryffindor.

"Did you see the magazine she's carrying around?" One of the rowdy Gryffindors asked. "The Quibbler, she calls it." He announced causing his fellow house member to laugh as well as some Slytherin

"I mean where does she come up with this stuff? Nargles and Thestrals, of course their invisible." Ron Weasley piped up causing Y/N to roll their eyes.

"I guess they they call her Loony Lovegood for a reason." Granger shrugged 'shyly'.

"You are all so pathetic." Y/N scoffed causing the crowd to quiet down as most of the lions sent glares their way.

"What was that Riddle?" One of the boys sneered.

"I said your all pathetic." Y/n repeated. "Though I think the proper word to use would have been stupid, dense, mindless, ignorant, simpleminded, empty-headed any of these will do."

"And what, your so smart?" Potter asked.

"Smarter that you lot that's for sure." Y/N replied. "It's sad really I mean I get the mudbl- I mean Granger not knowing theses thing even Potter, but you Weasley you come from a wizarding family not very well respected but a wizarding family none the less."

By this time Y/N had the attention of every wizard in the classroom from both housing knowing that any conversation between 'the golden trio' and the young Riddle was bound to be entertaining.

"Any witch or wizard worth their magic knows what Nargles are and the reason that Thestrals are invisible is because they can only be seen by those who have witnessed death, what do you think pulls that carriages that bring us from the train?" They pulled themselves up to sit now in the professors desk. "So maybe next time you see Loony Lovegood you should take on of those magazines then maybe you'll understand that Luna isn't crazy she's just smarter than you." Y/N smirked swinging their legs back and forth.

The door to the classroom swung open dramatically revealing Severus Snape finally arriving to teach his class.

"Riddle would you care to explain to me why you are sitting on my desk?" Snape asked strutting to the front of the class.

"Just explaining to our courageous classmates who are so brave to speak ill of someone behind their back exactly why they weren't sorting into Ravenclaw." They replied hopping of the professor's desk.

"How very generous of you but now that I have arrived you may take you proper seat and turn to page 265." Snape states in his usual disinterested tone. making their way to their seat Y/N passed by the table holding Weasley and Potter as the latter pipes up.

"If your so smart why weren't you sorted into Ravenclaw Riddle." The blue eyed boy questioned.

Smirking at the questioned Y/N turned to face the boy before leaning in close to his face.

"I think we all know why I wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw, Potter." They replied loud enough for everyone to hear, then proceeding to their seat as Snape began teaching the days lesson.

im so dead oewudqwbdqw THIS IS ADORABLE

miss jade your bodyguard!james example hit me right in the chest.. can I get candy apples and do you wanna dance? with a bodyguard!james au?? Where you’re dying for a sleepover with your girlfriends but he’s gotta sit in there with you and he totally gets into it gossiping and painting nails and doing face masks and making friendship bracelets? I yearn for big buff scary babygirl James and his shy little charge :’)) - happy Halloween !!!!!!! 🧡🖤

join luveline's halloween party ♡

mei my angel my literal everything best idea ever and I had to include what we talked about too, tysm for ur request baby happy halloween ♡ bodyguard!james x shy!fem!reader (also tipsy!reader)

You really hadn't wanted to bring it up but at the same time, you'd felt like you had to. James had assured you to do whatever it is that's going to make you most comfortable, even if what makes you most comfortable is actually making your new friends most comfortable.

"He... He has to come, but James doesn't mind sitting in the adjoining room. I'm sorry," you'd said.

Mindy, a friend you'd miraculously managed to make at the supermarket of all places, had given your bodyguard a once over with a huge smile. "Are you kidding? He's welcome to sit wherever he likes. He's very welcome."

You'd felt a flicker of something. Not jealousy. A general wash of embarrassment at the implication that James is, rightfully, eye-candy.

"Are you wearing aftershave?" you ask now, not a question you would usually have the courage to ask. You're shocked.

"Cologne, actually," James says.

You gawp at him.

James looks both lovely and ridiculous. He's bedecked in smart clothes, his casual civilian clothing, and it's enough to make your heart skip a beat. Tight sleeves, tight pants. He's a classic handsome on a bad day. Tonight, he's breathtaking.

Especially carrying your pink backpack.

You like how much he doesn't care about stuff like this. Your backpack thrown over his shoulder, your coat in the crook of his elbow. None of it is his job, the only thing he really has to do is stop you from getting maimed or killed, but he does it anyways.

"It's nice," you say awkwardly. What you'd wanted to say was worse. Are you wearing cologne to impress Mindy?

His smile is horrifyingly smug. "Thank you, princess. Think you should knock again?"

You knock again, your hand barely pulled from the door when it swings open.

"Hi," Mindy says, smiling as soon as she sees you.

It's such a nice thing, for your presence to make somebody smile like that, and you find yourself smiling back without any of your usual shyness.

"And hello," she adds, sizing James up with a light-hearted expression of dizziness. "Did you get more handsome, Mr. Bodyguard?"

James hand touches between your shoulders. "Maybe slightly."

Mindy laughs gleefully. "Maybe so. Please, come in. We were waiting on your before we start Dirty Dancing."

You beam. Mindy shows you and James into the living room of her home where the rest of your new friends wait. They're all just as excited to see you as you are to see them, greeting you with hugs and smiles. They say hello to James too, which is really nice. James doesn't mind, but sometimes people act as if he's not there. It's my job to sink into the background, he'd placated once.

Still, you don't like when people ignore him. This spells good tidings.

You're in very nice but comfy clothes, soft loose trousers and a t-shirt that's too big for you, because you'd thought that was what people where to these kinds of things — it's what they wear in all the movies you'd watched to prepare — so you're horrified when you realise they're all dressed in fancy blouses and fine jewellery.

"Sit down," James reminds you gently, putting pressure on your shoulder until you sit.

"Right," you say with a laugh.

"You can sit wherever you like," Mindy says to James.

He tips his head slightly to one side. "I really don't want to intrude on you girls. I can happily stay by the door."

Mindy shakes her head. "No, sir. You can protect your lovely treasure from right here."

James sits beside you.

Mindy is clearly quite wealthy. Her living room is a large space with huge couches and an impressive television bolted high on the wall, Dirty Dancing already queued and waiting to play. Before you know it you've a cocktail in hand and the lights have been turned down low, the movie accompanied by a low level of chatter.

"Patrick," Georgia says dreamily, watching as the main characters dance in the middle of an empty room.

"He's not very handsome-" Milly says.

"What?"

"Let me finish! He's not very handsome in the classical way, is he? But his demeanour is what makes him so yummy."

You huff under your breath, a laugh you can't contain as they descend into a debate on all his pros and cons.

"He's more handsome because he can dance. It's his charisma."

"What does Y/N think?" Mindy asks, turning to you eagerly. You almost choke on your sip of cosmopolitan, face growing warm under their expectant gazes.

It's not entirely their fault. James turns to you to, you can feel his thigh pressed closer to yours. This isn't the kind of thing you and he ever talk about.

"Um, he... Well, I think he's-" Your voice falls to an insecure murmur. "He's not not handsome."

"I don't think he's all that," James says.

The girls roar with laughter. You turn to James to watch him chuckling, a grateful smile on your face.

"Can you dance, James?" Milly asks.

His arms burns where it touches your own. "Not like that," he says.

More laughter. You feel two things at once, and this time you're willing to admit one is some sort of jealousy. He's super funny and you love that about him, you're just not sure if you love everybody else knowing it too. But then, the second feeling, pure affection for him. He deserves droves of girls fawning over him. It makes sense that they're all so charmed.

They all sing the closing song of the movie to each other in dramatic duets. Mindy tries to include you, and then Georgia does too, but singing in front of people isn't something you do. It takes too much courage. You'd have to disregard the embarrassment of being bad, and you're not good at that. Nevertheless it's a great time that makes you laugh until your side hurts, especially when Dahlia and Darcy try to do the dangerous 'lift' dance move.

You dip your head toward James. "You could definitely do that."

He laughs, startled. "Do what, shortcake?"

"The lift."

"Only if you're the one I'm lifting," he bargains.

"Never in a million years," you say, cheeks filled with heat.

They want to do manicures after that. This is two cosmopolitans later, mind you, but you gather around the coffee table with finger dividers, and soon Milly is passing out calming sheet masks she got from the supermarket. You laugh at one another, ghosts in practice, and your laughter gets worse when James agrees to let Milly put one on him. His hair's so thick and curly that he needs to wear a headband to keep it away from his face, a salmon coloured pair of bunny ears.

You're on your fourth cocktail, a long island iced tea, by the time your nails are done, and Georgia has started retelling a story about her last date, how weird the guy had been, and how he had failed spectacularly in the bedroom.

"I mean, I probably should've known there wouldn't be much joy when he showed me his matchbox collection, but I thought he was eclectic, not stupid."

You giggle and lean hard into James side for support, your own face mask starting to slip down your face. He's already peeled his own off, skin shiny and soft, and he reaches out with delicate fingertips to pull yours away too.

"Here," he says, dabbing the excess essence off with a flannel.

"Thanks, Jamie," you say happily.

"Worst date of my life," Georgia finishes, rolling her eyes.

"I can't beat that one!" Darcy says quickly. "I was twenty, and we went to Burger King for dinner. Burger King. I was wearing a little black dress and heels. And when we get back in the car, we were supposed to be going for a film, he leans over the handbrake and starts trying to kiss me and all I could see was a tiny piece of lettuce in his mustache," — you hiccup hard and slap a hand over your mouth, overjoyed by her tortured tone — "I pulled away, obviously. And he grabs my shoulder and said, come on baby, I saw how you were looking at me back there.

Back there. In the Burger King." She rolls her eyes. "You gotta be kidding me."

The girls share their horror stories and you laugh and sigh sympathetically in most of the right places, until you're the only one left who hadn't spoken.

"What about you, Y/N?" Dahlia asks.

"Yeah, what's your nightmare date?"

You stiffen. "I mean... I... I haven't-"

"Come on, it can't be as bad as the guy who spit in my ear," Milly says.

You laugh, because ew, but struggle to come clean without sounding awkward. "I've never been on a date before."

"Oh," Mindy says, sounding not disgusted but let down. She recovers swiftly. "Well, you aren't missing anything, babe."

"Yeah," Darcy placates. "Especially if it's with a guy. No offense."

James raises a hand. "Please, it's fine. I've no delusions when it comes to my sex."

The girls continue to try and comfort you. You hadn't wanted any comfort, and every new reassurance makes you shrink. It's lovely that they're trying to make you feel better, but you feel abruptly inexperienced and ashamed about it.

"I once had a girl break an egg against my forehead," James says.

They all pause.

"On a first date?"

"Yup. She'd brought eggs. In her purse."

They gawp. You gawp. You've never heard this story.

Halfway through a dramatic rehashing his hand finds your calf for a quick squeeze. You realise he's making the whole thing up shortly after and you've never felt more thankful for him. And he once stopped you from getting tasered by grabbing the weapon with his bare hands, so.

"Aren't we a little old for friendship braceletes?" Milly asks, a practically fully-formed chevron bracelet in hand.

You struggle with your beginners bracelet made of four strands. James, beside you, is a natural. Your elbows keep brushing together, and it's a lot.

"Some of us had bad childhoods, Milly."

"Shit," you whisper, your bracelet loop sneaking out from under the masking tape anchoring it to the table for the tenth time in as many minutes.

"You're pulling too hard," James whispers back.

"Everyone's quicker than me!"

Mindy yawns and proclaims to go receive the sleeping bags and air mattresses she'd promised. "Keep working, Y/N! I want that bracelet around my wrist when I get back."

"No problem," you say easily, and then, "James, what do I do? Please help me."

James looks over at your bracelet. You've made knots on the wrong strings, the bracelet more a net than anything. He side eyes the group of girls sitting around him, all putting the finishing touches on their projects, before quietly slipping his bracelet into his lap and swapping it with yours.

"Stick it back on the table and I'll show you," he murmurs covertly.

You stick his bracelet on the table in front of you with some masking tape and James takes charge. He grabs your hands with zero hesitation and shows you how to knot the strings, the 4-shape you need to make and which strings you need to make it on. His hands are very warm, super soft, and when he lets go you feel it like an absence.

"Get it?" he asks.

Kind of. There's an obvious difference in the quality of knots made. James' are all neat and uniform, yours less so, but you chalk it upto rushing and mindy doesn't know any different, hugging you as you tie it around her wrist.

"It's stunning," she proclaims. "Where's yours, Mr Bodyguard?"

He shows your bracelet. "I had some trouble."

There's a little wave of giggles that hurts your feelings, but then Darcy says, "It's alright, James. They're really hard if you've never made them before."

"Yeah, I spent an entire summer in primary school teaching myself. That's a great effort for a beginner!"

"Practice makes perfect, anyways."

James nudges you casually with his elbow. "Thanks, ladies."

Soon, the room is enveloped by the rushing sound of the electric air pump blowing up air mattresses. They're sandwiched together, and even with Darcy on the couch and Mindy in her own bed there's no enough room.

"I'm so sorry," she says, "I didn't think about where he'd sleep."

"Technically, I won't really be sleeping," James says.

Your heart is thudding painfully against your ribcage. "Uh, well," — you're so desperate to seem cool and not cause any problems that you blurt without thinking — "it's fine, James doesn't mind sharing with me." You look up into his dazzling, sun-kissed face. "Do you?"

A flicker of surprise clouds his features. He hides it. "No, of course I don't mind."

The time approached half-twelve quickly. James is off shift at 1AM, and while he might usually go home he's already told you he'll be staying the night. He hates when you're in unfamiliar places. You don't complain, though when it's dark and everyone is drunkenly snoozing in their plastic beds, you sit up in your sleeping bag and search for his figure in the dark.

"James?" you murmur.

"What, sweetheart?"

"Is y'shift over?"

"Yeah. Mason's just pulled up outside." Mason means Jack and Jack means the night team. You roll your eyes at how ridiculously looked after you are.

"Do you want to come and sleep? You must be tired," you continue, your own voice dulcet with an obvious fatigue.

James picks his way over to you where you're nestled in your pyjamas and sleeping bag. "I can go kip in the van, if it makes you uncomfortable."

Is he kidding? He's just spent the night not only looking after you but making sure time and time again that you didn't look stupid in front of your new friends. He might be the nicest boy you've ever met, and the last thing you want him to do after all of this is go sleep sitting up in the back of a van.

"Are you crazy?" you mumble, unzipping your sleeping bag to entice him in. "S'cold in here. Your nose would get frost bite out there."

"Poor night team," he laments agreeably.

The air matress lifts you up with James' added weight. He makes his way under the unzipped sleeping back and has to cling to your hip to stop himself from falling off. You frown at his scratchy clothes.

"Did you bring pajamas?" you ask.

"No offense, shortcake, but no. Obviously I did not."

Your sleep (and cocktail) addled brain doesn't have the energy to feel offended. "Y'gonna be uncomfortable."

He doesn't speak. You assume he's done talking for the night and curl your leg up toward his thigh, when he says, "You won't mind if I take my shirt off? The fancy labels are really itchy."

"No, fancy-pants, I won't mind."

Even in your state you can feel the nervousness of being so close to him after he's peeled off his shirt. He's a huge hot water bottle beside you and you face toward him, cold but miles too shy to make a move.

It's like he can read your mind. "Are you still cold?" he asks, pulling the sleeping bag up to your chin.

"A little. My nose is cold," you murmur, eyes feeling heavier by the second.

His hand lands tentatively against your cheek. His thumb rubs against the tip of your nose. "What was it you said about frost bite?"

You genuinely can't remember. His hand is so warm, his body, his touch something you desire badly on a good day and yearn ceaselessly for on your worst. You bracelet his wrist where it rests against your neck and rub over his pulse unthiningly.

"You want a hug?" he asks knowingly.

"Just for a second," you agree. Your dignity shrivels with the speed of your reply.

He laughs under his breath and slides his arm under your shoulders. For a second it's uncomfortable and achy, and then he's pulling the brunt of your weight onto his chest and wrapping arms around you.

You shudder at how warm he is, the heat of his palms over your spine.

You lavish in his hold and steal all of his emanating heat until you're toasty as can be, sleeping bag snug over your limbs and face nestled in the bare skin of James' shoulder.

"Sorry," you mumble.

"For what?"

You're surprised he's still awake.

"For... For being so... I don't know. Because you had to save me so many times."

"Saving you from awkward situations is easy, don't worry about it. And I think you would've done better without me than you realise."

His hand creeps up the nape of your neck.

You're pretty beside yourself, tipsy and tired and tenderised by his tactile touching. He's familiar. More familiar than anything. It feels like a dream to be in his arms. It probably is.

"You're a good girl, Y/N," he says, and it doesn't feel weird at all. He means it honestly. "You're kind. You're caring. People were bound to love you eventually. It took a while, but they do."

"It didn't take you a while."

"Well, I'm smarter than everybody else, you know that," he says.

You both laugh. His hand strokes the side of your face and rests behind your ear. You can't pin point when you fall from dizzy laughter into sleep, but James can.

He watches your face relax in the near-dark, watches your shoulders settle under his hands. The whole while he's thinking God, what am I doing? This isn't professional. This is the opposite of professional.

He tries to ease you off of him and abandons all hope when you turn your face into his chest and your lips touch his skin. Each exhale a warm kiss.

In the morning, he'll likely tease you within an inch of your life. You're shy enough on a normal day that he doubts you'll survive it. But for now, he rubs the length of your back and wonders if this is how you feel when he's standing guard. So, so safe.

helping hand

(warning: age gap|ellie is 21 reader is 27| 18+)

it’s been awhile since ellie had a crush on anybody. of course there was cat and dina, but nothing other than those two. then you came bustling in the gates with your gorgeous curves and face with your baby attached to your hip. she already knew that you were going to be an absolute problem in her life.

ellie quickly befriended you and made you feel warm and welcome in jackson. if you needed a babysitter cause you were working, ellie would do that for you. if you needed somebody to talk to, ellie would be right there with open ears. also if you needed somebody to remind you how beautiful you were despite the baby fat and stretch marks that you were sometimes insecure about ellie was right there to remind you. she was like your best friend. at first you thought it was weird befriending her with the age gap you two had, but during times like these you appreciated anybody that wanted to be around you and your kid.

you walk into your bedroom where ellie was waiting for you to join her in bed. “she’s asleep. knocked out actually.” you chuckle sitting on the bed beside ellie.

“i bet. she was putting those little legs to work today.” ellie chuckles expecting you to laugh, but all you did was wince holding on to your chest.

“what’s wrong?” ellie asks you with concern.

“i have a clogged duct.” you tell her. you missed one day of pumping, now your breasts are giving you the worst pain ever. you were about to go get you a warm rag, and put it on your breast hoping by tomorrow that it would pass.

“oh how do you fix it?” ellie asks curiously, “maybe i can help.” ellie said.

“oh yeah you want to suck my duct out?” you asks her jokingly. when ellie sat there with a brow lifted you rolled your eyes.

“your not sucking my boobs ellie.” you laugh. you knew ellie had a crush on you. she absolutely made it no secret with the constant flirting, sneaky touches, and the need to be attached to your hip every two seconds.

“why not? im just trying to help you.”

“because that’s weird, we are friends, and you’re too young to be sucking on my boobs.”

“oh but salem gets a pass? who’s making the boob rules around here?” ellie said, making you laugh smacking her with your pillow.

“salem is a baby who needs milk. you’re just a horny perv.” you shake your head at her.

“so what, you're going to lay in pain all night when i can help you. it’s probably going to get worse. let me help you.”

you sit there thinking about it. it was indeed going to get worse. you’ve gone through this before and ended up with mastitis. it was literally one of the worst pain you’ve ever experienced. your breasts were tender to the touch for days.

“okay.” you mumble laying back, “just don’t be weird.”

“whatever that means.” ellie mumbles watching you take off your bra and lift your shirt up revealing your swollen boobs.

“also masssage while your doing it. it helps.” you instruct her. “mhmm.” ellie said, leaning over you. half your body was sat up by the pillows while ellie laid half of her weight on you.

she bent her head down and attached her mouth to your perk nipples. she uses her hand to massage your breast.

you hiss in pain, laying your head back, closing your eyes.

ellie couldn’t even believe you were letting her do this. you denied any advance ellie made, always hearing the same excuse, “ellie you’re too young for me.” who the fuck was worrying about age in a apocalypse? you were 7 years older than her. it wasn’t that big of a deal to her.

ellie uses her thumb to brush over your sensitive nipple. you let out a breathy moan not wanting her to know that you were starting to enjoy this.

ellie switches her attention to your other boob and you watched her. you already knew she completely abandoned the mission and started doing her own thing.

“ellie.” you say ready to put a stop to her antics. she pinches your nipple between her teeth and a moan slips out your mouth. she smirks against your skin, having you right where she wants you. she was going to help you out with your boob problem, just not right now. right now she was trying to seduce you and damnit was she doing a good job.

“yeah,” ellie mumbles, flicking her tongue over your nipple. ellie shifts around so her leg would be in between your things. she lifts up her knee practically shoving it up against your pussy.

you moan rubbing your hips against her thigh. it’s been so long since you’ve had someone touch you like this. maybe that’s why it was so easy to fall into her trap.

“you’re a fucking sneak.” you breath out moving your hips up and down on her thigh. “don’t know what you're talking about..” ellie whispers, removing her kneee from between you so she could start pressing wet kiss down your stomach.

“fuck i wanna see all of you.” ellie said, tugging your pants and underwear down.

you keep your legs spread for her showing off your glistening cunt. ellie chuckles at you, “what happened to i’m too young for you? hm?” ellie teases, running two of her fingers up your slit.

“i guess all that’s out the window when you need your pussy played with.” ellie smirks grabbing one of your thighs and hooking it over her shoulder. she placed ticklish kisses on the skin. you huffed pushing her head to where you wanted her most.

“ellie quit playing around.”

“don’t worry mommy. i’m going to take care of you.”

she pecks your clit multiple times before sucking on on the bud. you moan throwing your head back as she did her worse on you. she had been waiting to do this for months and you thought she was going to go easy on you? no way.

ellie means slurps and suck on your clit while holding your thigh a tight grip.

“ah ellie.”

you look down watching her head bob in different direction. it was such a sight it made you even wetter. “fuck,” you moan gripped her head pushing her head down closer so her nose brushed against your clit.

“e-ellie!” you cry out feeling her stuff two fingers inside you. she feels inside searching for that one spot..you cry out arching your back..there it is.

ellie massages the spot with her two fingertips watching your eyes roll back and your head digs in the pillow as you cum. ellie groans, taking in the sight.

you start to push ellie’s head away from the overstimulation.

“ellie.” you whine.

ellie pulls away not before giving your clit a quick kiss. moves up to lean over you. “where’d you learn all that?” you ask her.

she laughs, pecking my lips, “ellie, I'm serious.” you say as she looks down at you amused.

“books.” she shrugs, “this old lady had a lot of lesbian smut books laying around…i took all of them. it’s like being exposed to porn at an early age.” ellie said, making you burst out laughing.

“you’re so fucking stupid.”

“shut up.” she mumbles, giving your shiny lips a kiss, “you like it.”

i just adore this im sorry🫶

Secret's Out | Draco x Reader

A/N: To be honest, I don't love this, but it's my first time writing Professor Draco, so you're going to have to prepare yourself for better future content. Enjoy! <3

Summary: Your students urge you to tell them the truth about you and Draco's relationship.

Warnings/content: Fem!Reader, Husband!Draco, fluffy, Mom!Reader, Dad!Draco, Pregnant!Reader, Professor!Draco, Professor!Reader

Word count: 1.54k words

THANK YOU TO @divvision FOR THE DIVIDERS! ALL CREDITS GO TO THEM!

"And that's about it for today's class, guys. Make sure you do the reading from pages 200-210 in your Advanced Potion Making textbook. It'll help you for the next class." You said, quickly dismissing your students. You'd hoped they'd leave soon and wouldn't question the ordeal that happened at the beginning of class. But of course, teenagers must speak their minds.

"Professor Y/L/N?" One of your favorite student's hand shot up, which prompted everyone to stop moving and focus on you.

"Yes, Mr. Diggory?" You sighed, immediately knowing what he would ask.

"Um, a-are you and Professor Malfoy..."

"Great co-workers? You bet! Class dismissed." You nodded, pointing at the door sweetly.

You knew this would happen at some point. Draco had come into your classroom to "drop off some papers," but you teaching different subjects made it evident to you that he just wanted your attention.

"Well, hello, Mrs. Malfoy!" Draco said, sneaking up behind you to pull you to his chest.

"Hi, Mr. Malfoy." You relax, letting his arms hoist your body up. Being a professor was exhausting, but you loved it. No matter how many times Draco offered for you to stop working, claiming that his wealth would take care of you and many other generations, you always refused. Besides, it was nice to be with him all the time. The lunches and free periods you spent together were your favorites, and when your son Scorpius had a free period, too, it was all the better.

You thought it would be distracting if people knew you and Draco were dating and always preferred to keep your relationship private, anyways. You didn't go out of your way to convince people Scorpius wasn't your son, though. Instead, you and Draco gave him all the affection and then some behind closed doors. You even snuck him into your room in the castle when he wanted to cuddle at night. Being the Head of House for Slytherin, Draco could essentially pull his son in and out of class whenever Scorpius wanted. Despite him being fifteen, he would always be a mommy's boy and clung to you at all times to prove it.

"Just came to drop off some papers." Draco said snazzily, slapping a stack of papers for his class, Astronomy, down on your desk. "Return it to me by the end of the day, please." He whispered against your lips, tipping your forehead on his, pulling your waist closer to his body.

You laughed at his neediness, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Okay, my love, I will. Now go before one of my students-"

"Professor Y/L/N? Professor Malfoy? What-" Draco immediately pulled out his wand and slammed the door, but it was already too late. You'd been caught. The staff and your close friends knew about your "secret" marriage to Draco, but none of your students were allowed to know.

"Oopsies." Draco cracked a weak smile while you were busy becoming highly anxious for the next class. "Don't worry; you'll figure something out." Draco said, pressing quick kisses on both your cheeks. "I'm sorry, darling, I need to go. My next class started a minute ago." Draco checked his watch, furrowing his brows. He was obviously reluctant to leave. "Your lunch break is after this class, right?" You nodded your head, still nervous. "I'll come to see you, then." He smiled and opened the doors to your classroom. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get on, go inside!" Draco said to the shocked students, who were now looking at him in a way different light than before.

You thought you could escape your students' curiosity, but news traveled fast around Hogwarts. The next day, you'd received three questions in one class about your relationship to the former Slytherin, and you knew they wouldn't stop until they got an answer.

"But Professor Y/L/N!" One student cried out, urging you to spill all on your personal life.

"Look! There! A ring on her finger! That must mean she's married!" Harry Potter's daughter (one of your goddaughters), Lily yelled, pointing at your wedding ring. "Professor Malfoy has rings, too! Although, I'm not quite sure which one would be his wedding ring..." Lily pondered, holding her chin.

"Young lady, this is highly inappropriate." You said, looking at her with a stern look. You and Draco eloped straight out of the war and only told immediate family and adult friends after you'd gotten married. No children knew about your relationship, but it was safe to say you were freaking out about the possibility of it.

"Well, if you don't have the hots for Professor Malfoy, then prove it!" Lily's brother James evilly cracked. You narrowed your eyes at him, knowing you wouldn't be able to get on with your lesson if they didn't receive confirmation.

"Okay." You said defeated. "Rose, go fetch Professor Malfoy for me, please. Tell him I'll watch his class next period as payment for interrupting his class." You enunciated, annoyed at your students' determination to ruin your secret.

The class broke into excited murmurs, and you turned into a nervous wreck, waiting for your husband to return. The chatter died, and everyone was staring at the petite redhead and tall blond standing under the massive doorway.

"You guys, I was in the middle of teaching about Cassandra, my favorite constellation!" You carefully eyed Draco, knowing that's what the baby girl inside you would be named. He only smirked, looking at you for just a second. "What's this about?" He said, stifling a laugh while running a hand through his hair.

"Teach later. This is an intervention." James said poshly before his cousin Rose pinched his arm and whispered something to his ear. "Reckoning - this is a reckoning. We know you guys are together."

"Really? And what makes you say so?" Draco said, stepping over to your elevated platform where you stood. He placed an arm around your waist gently and rested his hand on yours.

"That! Right there!" James pointed, wide-eyed.

"Oh, this?" You said, smirking. "We're just terrific friends." You said, resting a head on Draco's shoulder and smiling.

"Ugh, this is killing me!" Hugo, Rose's brother, exclaimed, banging his head harshly on his desk.

"Mr. Weasley, don't hurt yourself." Draco scolded his godson.

"Prove your love to each other, or we won't do our work." A familiar voice protested from the back of the class. But, of course, you and Draco immediately knew who it was without even having to pinpoint the blond head of hair and piercing gaze: Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. You'd recognize your baby anywhere. He must've been tired of the back and forth, or else he wouldn't have spoken up.

"Fine." You said, glaring at your son, although you weren't actually upset. "Draco, I think it's time we tell the kids." You whispered softly into his ear, ignoring the eager eyes and wide grins on your students' faces.

"I agree, my beautiful wife." Draco said, which pulled dramatic gasps from the rest of your class, apart from Scorpius.

Draco pulled you in for a short but deep kiss, now relieved that the cat was out of the bag, and he could refer to you as his wife to everyone.

"Scorpius!" Lily yelled to the back of the classroom. "Does this mean..."

""Professor Y/L/N" is actually Professor Malfoy and is also my mom?" Scorpius flatly asked. "Yes." Scorpius didn't mind keeping your secret. Because of the number of students that found you attractive, he believed it would be incredibly unsettling if people referred to him as your mom while complimenting you. Still, he loved you and his dad uncommonly. He was excited that people now knew about your relationship with both of them. Until then, people thought that Draco was a single father, never noticing that Scorpius had the same eyes and nose as you.

It was safe to say you lucked out with your son. He was the perfect combination of Draco and you and the most mature fifteen-year-old you knew. He loved when you and Draco told him the story of your love because it was a long one. He cherished the moments where you'd hug and switch between kissing Draco and him. All of this to say, he was the perfect son to you.

"Since when?" Hugo dared to speak. You favored him over all your friends' children simply because of his blatant idiocy at times. It was heart-warming. As for your friends' children, they were in the dark about a lot of things. They often caught you and Draco together, feeding each other at reunions and birthdays, or stealing a forbidden kiss, but they were too young to remember it. You and Draco had been extra careful since then.

"Since I found out I was pregnant with him?" You said, a bit confused at what else you were supposed to answer. Snickers ran across the class at Hugo's tendency to be a male bimbo.

"Speaking of..." Draco said, bringing a hand to your belly and smiling down at you with glistening eyes.

The kids immediately got the hint and erupted into cheers, congratulating Scorpius, who was now smiling widely, excited for his baby sister to arrive.

"What's all the noise about?" Your lifelong friend and now boss, Headmaster Potter, came in, surveying the room for any danger.

"Secret's out." Scorpius told Harry, who was his favorite one of you and Draco's friends.

"Yes!" Harry said, jumping for joy. "Professor Weasley-Potter owes me so many Galleons." Harry said proudly. "Well, everybody, I say we give both Mr. Malfoys and Mrs. Malfoy a proper celebration." Harry said, pointing his wand up into the air, which elicited many excited noises from the kids. The students did the same, and at his command, launched beautiful fireworks into the high ceiling. You called your son up to give him a family hug, and he happily obliged, beaming. The colors reflected brightly on your skin and Scorpius,' and Draco's heart couldn't help but overflow at how lucky he was to have you three.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

this shit is so cute

Elementary Masterlist

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x teacher!reader

series rating: E (minors DNI, 18+ only, single dad!joel, smut to come)

summary: You’re Sarah’s fifth grade teacher, and after meeting her father at a parent/teacher conference, you find yourself developing a strong interest and affection for the two struggling Millers.

chapters marked with * indicate explicit content. minors DNI.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three*

Chapter Four*

Chapter Five*

Chapter Six*

drabble: the bakesale*

drabble: out of my depth

Chapter Seven*

drabble: the night out

Chapter Eight*

drabble: the perfect fit

drabble: the distraction*

drabble: a hard day

drabble: winter break

Chapter Nine*

drabble: a helping hand

drabble: dad duty

drabble: christmas 2006

Finale*

drabble: the gift

drabble: the show of appreciation*

drabble: the ranch*

Could you do a Lady Lesso one shot with #31 and #6

Where the reader and Lesso always had some tension and one time the teachers have some free time so they play truth or dare and Lesso ask the reader and the reader chooses truth and she asks #31 then that leads to smut with #6 in

Kinks maybe? Choking? mommy kink? Bondage? Pain/blood maybe? Humiliation maybe... its up to you

Oh You Are In For It… ~Lady Lesso xFem Teacher!Reader

Summary— Tensions between Reader and Lesso are known to be high. But what happens when it all comes to a breaking point when the staff plays truth or dare…? Anon Response— Hey anon!! Thank you for your request! I always enjoy writing for Lady Lesso. I would love to write this one shot for you. Hope you Enjoy! ♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#31. “What’s the dirtiest thought you’ve had about them/me?”

#6. “My eyes are up here…”

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, oral sex, fingering, nipple clamp usage, rope use (light bondage), chocking, mommy kink, chocking kink, light humiliation kink, implied pain kink, etc.

Enjoy (;

“Truth or Dare…?” Lady Lesso pointedly asked you.

The room immediately went silent and all eyes were on you. All your colleagues sat in silent anticipation of what you would say, and what Lesso would come up with.

“Truth…” you slowly said, deciding that a truth from Lesso would be far less harsh than one of her infamous dare.

You were wrong.

Lesso smirked and paused before speaking, as if to think about what to ask you. But her sparkling gaze told you that she already knew. The tension between the two of you only grew.

“What’s the dirtiest thought you’ve had about me?” She finally said.

Eyes in the room widened and a few giggles were stifled. But no one stopped the woman from asking her question.

Your breath fled you and your face went red. The sexual tension between you and Lesso was well known between the staff of the two schools. But neither of you had ever acted on it. Only teased and taunted one another.

Well this was a whole new level…

Your mind raced. So many thoughts were coming up to mind. Your main debate was whether to give a fake answer to satiate the crowd or to give the real answer and satiate Lesso.

You decided to go with the former.

“Well… I suppose that would be you underneath me…”

You spoke with a grin on your face as you watched Lesso’s smirk turn upside down. She looked furious. But no one spoke up about it.

The game continued on until everyone decided to call it a night. The entire time, you had felt Lesso’s unwavering gaze on you. She was plotting something… her revenge probably…

As you all got up to go back to your rooms for the night, Lesso made her move. She came up behind you and took you by the collar, dragging you behind her. You tried to yelp but nothing came out, and everyone else just watched with pity in their eyes as you were dragged to the redheads bedroom.

Lesso didn’t let you go until you were both in her private quarters and she had shut the door. She was sleeping in frustration, and you could hear her growling lightly she. Finally, Lesso turned around to face you.

You gulped and went red at the woman’s piercing gaze. You couldn’t look at the woman, so your eyes were everywhere but.

“You and I both know that answer was bullshit…” Lesso seethed in a slow and growling tone.

Your breath hitched as she stalked toward you. You shakily nodded.

“My eyes are up here…” Lesso growled.

You immediately looked up at Lesso at those words, biting your lip in anticipation. Her eyes were dark pools of lust and domination.

“So tell me the truth.”

You gulped and nodded.

“I… I’m bound by my wrists, hanging from the ceiling… w-with ropes around my body a-and nipple clamps on… you-you do whatever you want to me, while umm…” you stammered.

“While…?” Lesso growled, taking much pleasure of the humiliation you were experiencing from telling her this.

“While I call you m-mommy with you chocking me…” you finished your statement with your light stuttering of embarrassment.

Your face was beet red now. But Lesso was radiant, shining. She couldn’t be more pleased. And really, this was turning you both on. You desperately so.

“Alright…” Lesso purred with a wicked grin, “Strip.”

You stopped breathing for a moment as you processed that this was really going to happen. Your eyes widened.

“I— ok yes!”

You immediately began stripping, but you were suddenly stopped by Lesso’s hand squeezing your throat. You involuntarily moaned as she put a sweet and tight pressure around your neck.

“Yes mommy…” she jeered.

“Y-yes Mommy!” You whimpered.

And with that, Lesso let you go and you went back to stripping. The woman locked the door shut and then simply watched you undress in amusement.

When you were standing in front of the woman, completely nude, she stood up from the wall she was leaning against and huffed in satisfaction. Without another word, she left the room to go into her closet.

When Lesso returned, her hands were filled with an assortment of goodies. Your heart skipped a beat as the redhead layer each toy out on the bed. When she was satisfied with the placement of it all, Lesso took the rope and met you back in the middle of her bedroom.

“Look up. And put your hands all the way up.” She ordered.

You tilted your head back and gasped lightly as you saw the hook on the ceiling a few feet in front of you, in between you and the edge of the bed. You quickly shifted directly underneath it and the your hands all the way up in the air.

Lesso chuckled and began to tie your wrists to the rope and then to the hook on the ceiling. Soon you were hanging from the ceiling… it was surreal. You couldn’t process what was happening fast enough.

But Lesso still had a lot of rope left. She used this remainder to tie intricate patterns around your body, making sure to not skip the rope that went under and back up your crotch, sitting right against your folds and sensitive clit.

As Lesso tightened her rope work and stepped back in delight, you squirmed lightly against the makeshift harness. The rope in between your legs shifted and sent jolts of pleasure through your system, making you whimper loudly.

“Please… Lesso please…” you whined, bucking your hips towards the woman in front of you, but that only made the rope in between your legs ache and hurt more.

Lesso chuckled wickedly.

“Baby, we’re only getting started…” she purred, making her way back to the side of the bed, this time picking up the nipple clamps.

Shivers corsed through your entire body, as Lesso ran the cold metal clamps up to your stomache, before effectively clamping your nipples. The clamps were connected by a chain, which the woman immediately tugged. Your body jolted in pleasurable pain in response, your mouth letting out a desperate yelp. This quickly turned into more whispers and mewls.

But Lesso wasn’t affected by your whimpers and begging.

“Tell me what you want…” Lesso taunted, wanting to hear you say it again.

You whimpered and bucked your hips but to no avail.

“Want… want you to use me, mommy—! Please use me, choke meeee…”

Lesso smirked wickedly and slowly got down on her knees. She looked up at you, her dark and wicked gaze meeting your desperate one.

“This is the only time you will ever see mommy on her knees…” Lesso cooed darkly, before sliding her entire tongue into your aching cunt.

Your eyes rolled back and you tugged against your restraints desperately. Strings of moans and cries flew from your lips as Lesso ate you out with skill and determination.

Then one of her hands wandered up to your nipple clamp chains and pulled. This only made you closer to your edge. The pain was deliciously dizzy and matched the immense pleasure you were experiencing quite well.

Soon, you were begging her to let you cum…

“Mommy mommy please mmmm gonna cum ahhhhh—!!” You cried out.

Suddenly, Lesso pulled away completely, standing back up. You looked at her with shock and frustration, immediately whimpering and squirming at the loss of contact.

But the woman was against your body again quickly, this time standing with her left hand wandering in between your legs. She slipped two digits inside you, pumping and curling her fingers.

“Not yet…” she warily growled, as she watched up teeter on the edge.

Her other hand then came up to your throat. Lesso’s right hand wrapped itself around your neck and squeezed. This was your breaking point.

You came with a violent squirm against her and your restraints and with a loud cry.

You came against Lesso’s orders…

After you came down from your high, Lesso looked far too pleased about you disobeying her. You had a strong suspicion that this night would be long… And that you were in for it.

~~~

Lady Lesso Masterlist