Ask Billy Blauter

Professional Sports- Soccer due to the recent Fifa buzz-

Sam and Max have been playing Soccer together since they were kids. So when Dam was offered to sign on to a Professional Soccer Team he had one condition- Max had to be hired too! However, how long will Max be happy to be stuck on the bench?

Actors BTS

I'm not the biggest fan of the AU I drew yesterday where they're the opposite to their characters- all clean cut and quiet. So down below, I will put the AU I've been thinking about today at work instead

Sam doesn't consider himself much an actor, but Granny Ruth asked him to help her friend while he was taking a break from his pet washing gig. So he was an actor.

Except it seems like actors and actresses are disappearing off set. So he is on the case to figure out where these thespians keep going. Alongside this weird rabbit guy hired for a sex scene in the movie after 6 other actresses have disappeared.

Academia AU

Sam became a professor in Criminal Investigations due to his long-time learning in college. And it was going fine until one student tried to seduce him for a better grade.

Joel holds the brown guitar in hand, one leg propped up, his hands strumming methodically, slowly. When his eyes find yours he doesn’t stop, just smiles, his fingers moving slow. You smile back, bending until you’re sitting on the bottom step, watching him.

You don’t speak while he plays. Content to just watch him, your elbows on your knees, chin in your palm. He must’ve been awake for hours, there’s dirt kicking his boots and you make a mental note to clean that for him later. His eyes moved back to the strings of the guitar, plucking slowly, methodically, and your heart stirs with every strum.

He’s not playing anything in particular, just plucking the cords with long, calloused fingers, the guitar sitting against his jeans-clad thigh, his body angled towards you, even with the instrument between you.

His foot is bobbing up and down in tune with his playing, eyes focused on the guitar, but there’s a soft smile tugging on his lips. Once he’s content with what he’s just played, he finally looks up.

His expression is open, the edges around his eyes softening at the sight of you watching him.

“That was pretty.” You comment, and he sets the guitar down. “What’re you gonna name it?”

“Not as pretty as you,” he murmurs, spreading his thighs and patting his left leg. “Come here.”

You stand, tip toeing over to him and sliding into his lap, curling against his chest.

“Good morning.” you whisper, and kiss his cheek, the bristles tickling your nose.

He hums as you get settled against him, arm sliding around your waist, pulling you against him. His hand is warm, calloused, as it rubs the skin of your back in a small circle. He tucks his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, his lips brushing against the skin.

”Morning, darlin’.” He murmurs, voice deep and rough from the early hour. “Think I’m gonna name it ‘Wake up call’.”

“Huh. Interesting name…considering you didn’t wake me?”

He shrugs, and presses a kiss to your shoulder. “It’s the weekend. Thought you might wanna sleep in.”

“It was kind of nice.” You hum, your brow brushing his at the proximity.

He chuckles, low and warm, his nose nudging against yours. His fingers tighten just slightly on your hip, not enough to hurt, but enough that you feel the press of his grip.

“Knew it was,” he mutters. “That's why I kept playin'.” His thumb brushes over the fabric of your shirt absently before adding: “You always sound prettiest when you're half-asleep."

“Whatta mean I sound pretty?” You question, raising a brow at him and he grins.

He huffs a laugh, tilting his head back against the chair. His fingers trail up to your jaw, rough pads dragging along your cheekbone.

“Means you mumble shit in your sleep,” says, eyes crinkling at the corners. “All soft and stupid. Sound like a damn kitten.”

You flush, a smile tugging at your mouth and his hand trails down your face, to your neck and hovers over your sternum.

“Mhm,” he hums, almost to himself as he tracks his index finger down the valley between your breasts. “Soft ‘n sweet.”

“Joel,” you whisper, lips parting as he moves his hand and softly cups your breasts through the fabric of your top. “What’re you…?”

He makes a sound, deep in his throat, something like a purr. His palm slides back up, fingers spanning from your collarbone to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

His eyes darkened, gaze flicking from your lips to your eyes. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, and he doesn't look away when he speaks.

“Shhh…” He murmurs. “M’just touchin’, darlin’. Nothin’ you can’t handle…”

You shiver, your lashes flutter as he plucks at your nipple once, twice. He breathes through his nose as he watches you twitch and sigh, and when his hand dips to your waist, you part your thighs easily for him.

He makes that same sound at the sight of your eagerness, his eyes flicking downward to watch the movement of his own hands on you. He presses a kiss to your throat, lips dragging against your skin until he's hovering above your ear, his voice low when he speaks.

“You’re so damn receptive... Always ready for me.” He murmurs, hand sliding under your shirt and running up the soft skin of your back. The touch is light, but you still shiver against him, arching into his left hand while the other tugs your panties to the side. “So damn beautiful.”

He presses one finger to your clit, massaging slowly and you hiccup, head tilting to the left against his shoulder. His other hand braces your spine, fingers stretching across your skin and your legs fall further open.

You’re already wet, already needing him, and when he slides one digit inside he’s met with no resistance.

His breath hitches, the sound rough and uneven as he presses his forehead against your shoulder. His fingers curl inside you, slow at first, just testing, then deeper when he feels how slick you are for him.

“Fuck...” He mutters into your skin, voice strangled. “Already this wet? Christ…”

He adds a second finger without warning, palm grinding against you in time with each thrust. The hand on your back drags up to grip a fistful of hair instead, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to make you gasp around his name like an oath.

“Oh,” you whisper, keening against him and he kisses the hallow of your throat. “Joel…”

“Yeah honey?” He hums, his fingers moving at a languid pace. “Feel good?”

“Yes,” you whisper, shifting against him. “Please.”

His fingers still entirely at the plea, his breath hot against your ear. “Let you what?” He presses, voice low and rough with want, like he's savoring this too much.

The pad of his thumb circles your clit once, twice, then stops again when he feels you tense under him.

“C’mon darlin’…Gotta say it.”

“Let me come.”

He kisses your throat again, this time his teeth grazing your skin. “Atta girl.”

His fingers move faster once more, and you nearly choke as you tumble off the edge with a soft cry. Your fingers curl in the fabric of his collar, head tilting back.

It’s quiet ecstasy that has you nearly boneless in his arms.

He holds you through it, murmuring soft praises into your skin. His arms tighten around you, holding you against him like he's afraid you'll fade away. He presses feather-light kisses to your forehead, your cheek, your neck, as he lets you ride it out.

And once you’re gasping and spent, he gently pulls his fingers away, pressing another kiss to your shoulder before saying in a voice like velvet: “That’s my girl.”

x

Joel Miller ML

AU-gust/TrustAugust ML

JM Taglist @joelsmolotov