Adult Content

You decide you don't care.

You've run into Joel Miller again, twenty years after your hot summer fling. You were young and stupid and horny, and he was your neighbor Tommy's older brother. Time tore you apart from each other, but seeing him again only reignited what you felt for him all these years. Now Tommy is getting married, and fate, in the form of a rehearsal dinner, has brought you and Joel together again.

He slows his movements just to watch you squirm, dragging the length of him almost all the way out before slamming back in. "Jerked off so many times just thinkin' about you," he murmurs, voice rough with want as he picks up the pace.

"Fuck," you whimper, your walls fluttering around him. "It was one summer," you whisper. "Just three months of fucking." You've tried to deny yourself the pleasure of calling, or even checking his social media, but your attempt to mitigate the summer you grew up always failed. Even now the sweet sting of the stretch around him is familiar, a homecoming.

"Still know how to take me just right, don't you?" His voice is gravel, words strangled as his hips roll in slow, deep thrusts, savoring every second of being inside you after so long. "God.. missed this. Missed you."

"Fuck," you sigh. "More, Joel," you beg.

"Greedy little bug," he chuckles, using the nickname you swore you hated but secretly loved. His words are puncutated by sharp thrusts: "Always. So. Damn. Needy."

You whimper his name with each thrust. culminating in your climax, your walls pulsing around him like hummingbird wings.

"Just like that," he pants, his movements becoming erratic as he chases his own release. A ragged groan tears from his throat, hips snapping forward to bury himself as deep as possible, spilling inside you with a shuddering exhale.

Even back then, boasting that you'd just gotten on birth control, you'd only ever taken him raw. Just like now. Joel's slumped against you, spent and boneless, face tucked into the crook of your neck as he takes shaky, uneven breaths.

"We should get back to the others," you tell him.

He huffs out a breathless laugh against your skin. "Yeah.. you're right. Damn it." He eases out of you, cleaning you up as best he can with a Kleenex from your purse. Quickly you both fix your clothing and get tidied up. "I'll go first," you tell him. "You come later. We don't want to arouse suspicion, okay?"

"Only if you promise me a dance at the reception tomorrow," he says with a smirk.

"Jesus, we're not doing this again," you tell him with more conviction than you actually feel. "Fine," you give in. "One dance. Tomorrow. Then it's over."

You quickly dab on more lipstick as you make your way back to the dining room, almost running into Tess. Joel's wife Tess.

A glass of red wine in her hand, she eyes you up and down with a lifted brow. "There you are. Was starting to think you got lost or something. Maria's looking for you."

"There was a line for the restroom," you lie. "So.. how have you been? Where's Joel?" You feign not having seen him.

She sips her wine, her eyes perceptive, almost accusatory in their glint. "I've been good. And Joel's around here somewhere.. he went to step outside for a smoke."

Suddenly he's next to you, having come from a separate corridor. His hand is on the small of your back for the briefest of moments before he goes to Tess's side. "Hey, sweetheart." He places a soft kiss on her cheek. "Hey you," he says congenially, as if he hadn't just filled you up with his cum just five minutes ago.

"There you are. Great to see you, Joel." You force a smile on your face, hating to have to endure this pretense.

"Likewise, bug. You look lovely." His words are nonchalant; the way his gaze lingers on you is anything but. Tess arches a brow but stays quiet.

Suddenly you feel the gush of his spend in your panties. Apparently you hadn't cleaned up all that well earlier. And apparently he'd come pretty deep inside you. "Thank you," you say, excusing yourself. "I'll, uh, see you tomorrow. I don't want to keep the bride waiting."

"And how do you know these people again?" your husband Aaron asks as you take your seats in the church pew. Tommy and Maria's wedding is about to start soon, and to play it safe, you chose seats right in the middle, groom's side.

"Tommy was my neighbor during high school. We were friends." You fidget with your dress, a slate blue that was one of the few allowed colors mentioned in the invitation. "And we dated very briefly," you add, unable to keep some of the truth from him. "But I did befriend Maria after they got engaged."

He nods, brows drawn together. "So we're at your ex-boyfriend's wedding."

"Not my recent ex, obviously. I was with Tommy years ago." Your hand covers his in an attempt to soothe him. It seems you're always trying to soothe and reassure and appease him. Maybe that's why the moment you saw Joel at the rehearsal dinner last night you had no qualms about fucking him like you'd been starving for it.

The ceremony itself is interminable. You're glad you opted for a quick city hall wedding yourself. But today there are candles and hymns and prayers and during the vows, the most important part of this morning, your eyes can't help but drift to Joel, standing next to his little brother at the altar. He must feel your gaze on him, because he instantly pins you down with his stare, bold and impertinent, yet giving nothing away. As always, what goes on between you is of utmost secrecy.

At the reception, Joel stands at the head table, microphone in hand, his voice smooth and practiced as he delivers his Best Man speech. "To put it plainly, I can't think of two people more deserving of this happiness than my little brother and his wife," he finishes, smiling at Tommy and Maria.

The guests applaud and toast the bride and groom with champagne. The taste is sour in your mouth as you watch Joel take Tess out onto the dance floor. "I Swear" by Jason Michael Montgomery plays smoothly over the speakers and your envious, hungry eyes take in the sight of Joel and Tess dancing close together. He leans in to murmur in Tess's ear and she chuckles, giving him a soft kiss before they part. The DJ shifts to another song.

Joel makes a beeline straight for you.

You sit up straight, heart pounding as he asks you to dance. Giving a nervous glance to your husband you smile politely in acceptance, promising Aaron you'll return soon to dance with him too. You put down your napkin and join Joel.

"What do you think you're doing?" you whisper, maintaining a tight smile for the other guests to see.

"Just thinkin' how ironic it is now. Both Miller brothers off the table, officially. Feels like only yesterday you were taking us one after the other, filling you up, stretching you out, pumping our cum into you." Despite his salacious words he looks like he's talking to you about golf, or the weather, or any mundane thing.

"You should've put that in your Best Man speech," you mutter, and try to keep from yelping as he pinches you. "I remember," you admit, caving in to the memories. "I remember.."

Those were sweltering summer days when you'd come home from college, restless, young, stupid. How quickly you'd found Joel and Tommy, the latter all too eager. There was a certain thrill in seducing Joel. You'd wanted him the most - his experience and his aloofness. But after that summer your parents moved away, and you were no longer neighbors with the Millers. Years went by. Joel found Tess and married her. After hearing about it you spent the following months in a kind of stupor, finding the man who would eventually become your husband and putting all the unspent passion into that relationship. You told yourself it worked, that it was only right. Even years later when you still don't feel that spark for him.

Only ever with Joel.

"I guess all good things have to come to an end," you tell him.

"Not always," he replies. "Meet me in the washroom in five."

After making some halfhearted excuse to your husband you wait in the handicapped stall, leaning against the wall, hoping for the tiles to cool your burning skin. Your panties are already drenched in anticipation. Joel enters, clicking the door shut behind him and locking it. He crowds you against the wall immediately, lifting your dress over your thighs.

"Look at this mess," his voice is pure gravel as his fingers glide through your slick folds before pressing two digits deep inside. "Already drippin' for me like some cheap whore.." You gasp at his touch and he quickly plants his palm over your mouth to quiet you. His lips brush the shell of your ear. "Don't want anyone to hear what a little slut you are." He adds a third finger. stretching you out so deliciously as he fucks in and out in slow, deep strokes. "Bet nobody else ever made you this wet." He curls his fingers, eliciting a whimper from you as they stroke tantalizingly against your g-spot. "Answer me, bug.."

"No," you gasp, voice muffled by his hand. "No one else.."

"No one else," he repeats in agreement. "It's always been me." He pulls his hand away and replaces it with his mouth, kissing you hard and rough. The heel of his hand grinds against your clit.

"Just fuck me," you beg him, and with one gruff motion he spins you to face the wall, yanking your hips back against him.

"Fine." His voice is raw as the sound of his belt buckle coming undone behind you. He tugs your dress up and pulls your panties down. Not bothering with patience, his palm comes down on your bare ass in a sharp crack before he lines himself up and shoves into you to the hilt.

"Fuck," he groans as you're trying desperately to keep your whimpers quiet, "still so goddamn tight." One hand holds you in place while the other fists in your hair, ruining your styled coif, tilting your head back so his lips can ghost over yours, teasing but not giving. "Now be quiet," he warns, "unless you want everyone to hear how much of a slut I made outta you."

"Joel!" you gasp as he fucks into you from behind, each thrust punctuated by a sharp snap of his hips.

"That's it, take it," he growls, fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you back onto him with every brutal push, the lewd slap of skin echoing off the tiles. "Gonna fill this pretty cunt up so good they'll smell me on you when you walk outta here-"

"Joel!" you whisper harshly as the restroom door opens. He twitches inside you as he stills, your bodies locked in place as the person stumbles to a urinal. Joel bites down on a groan, keeping you pinned to the wall. "Don't fucking move," he whispers. Despite his warning to you, he does move. A slow, torturous roll of his hips has him grinding deeper instead of pulling out, your shared whimpers muffled by the sink running, the unknown interloper now washing their hands. You bite your lip so hard you taste copper as Joel grinds into you.

"Stop," you hiss as quietly as you can.

"It's just gettin' good," Joel whispers. He grabs hold of your hips and starts quick thrusts, his hand clamping over your mouth to stifle your moans, but the unmistakable sound of fucking is still heard, echoing. All you can think about is the way his cock is plunging perfectly inside you, hitting the spot no one else has ever been able to find, fucking you with the precision that makes you fall apart so easily.

Joel pulls back to watch your ass bounce with each thrust, the perfect ripples across your plush curves. Nothing in this world could make him harder, nothing else could make him want to ruin his life. "Feel me deep inside?" he growls. "That's where I belong," he says with a particularly sharp thrust that has you coming, muffling your moans with your palm. Joel speeds up, chasing his release, at last spilling into you fast and deep, forehead resting against the nape of your neck.

"Am I only gonna get to fuck you at weddings now?" he murmurs, voice gravelly with satisfaction. He gives one more emphatic thrust and your moan vibrates against his palm. As much as he doesn't want to let go, he slowly pulls out of you, helping you clean up.

"Not funny," you whisper, barely coming down from your high. "We can't do this again.." A small groan leaves your throat as he disengages, leaving you clenching around nothing. "We're crazy.." You shake your head, forehead touching the tiles as Joel takes care of the mess he made in you.

“I’d take crazy with you any day,” Joel murmurs, his voice rough but affectionate. “Even if it means the risk of getting caught in a compromising position in a public restroom.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “Fate is always listening.”

“You and your superstitions,” he teases. “If Fate’s listening, then Fate better not cockblock me.” He gives a gentle squeeze on your hip, as if to soothe the doubts you're having."Stay here, all right? I'll see if the coast's clear."

You don't know what you're doing. It's the first time you've seen him in twenty years and you can't ignore the frisson of want that strikes through you. Despite all these years apart you know you'd do anything he asks. You're that far gone for him.

You nod and he kisses your forehead before slipping out of the stall and running right into your husband.

"Uh, Joel?" your husband says. "Your wife is looking for you." His eyes flick to the restroom stall where you're hidden out of sight.

Your slick is drying on his softening cock and it's all he can do to keep a straight face. "Thanks. Hey if you see your wife tell her I'm lookin' for her. We've got a lot to catch up on." He claps Aaron hard on the shoulder and leads him out of the men's room. "You're a lucky man, my friend."

Joel is warmth.

Warmth in your heart. Warmth on your cheeks. Warmth in your tummy. Warmth between your legs.

Every molecule in your body seems to be on fire. Every thought that crosses your mind. Because everything inside you melts, loses its shape to merge with his, bends and transforms to welcome him.

What Joel radiates isn’t just sensual heat, driven by impulses, by desire, by the mere sight of his features that seem drawn by a painter and sculpted by Michelangelo’s hand.

It’s not just that. It’s the way he makes you feel.

Safe.

In a nest where nothing bad can happen. Where you can let your guard down, lick your wounds, and show your vulnerability. It’s the warmth of a home you’ve chosen to live in together; it’s the comfort of a fireplace he installed just because you asked him to; it’s the dark, warm wood he used to build your bed. Solid, sturdy, reliable wood. Just like him.

Joel is like that. His love is all-encompassing, it knows no lukewarmness, no cold, nothing but burning fire, life, a heart beating fast, a broken voice, trembling legs, your bitten lips, your parched throat, hot tears streaming down your cheeks, and stammered pleas as he lies on top of you.

And God, feeling him embrace you from behind, steady and ardent, warming you on Jackson’s dark, freezing nights, gives you a sense of security that nothing has ever given you before. You can’t fall as long as he holds you tight. No scraped knees on the ice, no bruises, no cuts.

The effort you put in, the losses you faced, and everything you’ve been through have led you to him, where the feisty, ever-alert person you forced yourself to be can finally relax and let go.

The feeling of his skin, mostly covered by just a pair of boxers, on yours is more than just a turn-on.

And not only you he make room for his warmth. He welcomed your cold. He extinguished his own.

He put out the fury, the raging fire and left the warmth.

And it's a wonderful accord, your skins colliding, your lips seeking each other, your hands intertwining. And everything is calm in the urgency of having him. Everything is possible, exciting, alluring.

It is orange and pink like a sunset, silent and quiet like a sunrise.

It's as reassuring as his crooked smile and the little dimple that appears on his cheek. It's captivating like his eyes, which observe and study every inch of you, it's as steady and sure as his hands, which hold you grounded.

It's a pleasant tingling sensation, like his beard tickling your neck when he kisses you, like when you wrap your hand around the nape of his neck and encounter those little, soft curls at the base.

It's imperfect but as real and precious as every mark you carry, the softness of his belly, the wrinkles, the rough knuckles, the calluses, the marks of every time you both survived and fought to hold on to something that ultimately led you here.

Together you are understanding, patience, acceptance, trust, a warm breath of life that has lifted both of you out of misery and loneliness.

When you fall asleep next to Joel, you feel nothing but warmth. His skin, his flesh, blood flowing through his veins. Feeling him wrap you in sleep, one of his arm draped around your waist, the other one caressing your hair, his lips kissing the crown of your head, is like something primal and wonderful where you can truly feel that you no longer need any armor, as if those “no’s” you always say could only turn into “yes.” As if all the “I can’t”s you murmur to yourself had no choice but to become “I can do it.”

The 40 year old virgin

Hopper/Miller

if you lived here you'd be home now

Happy Campers

The perfect girl

The girlfriend experience

The sleepover

In hell i'll be in good company

something worse than a woman

The velvet crown - LA

Rare

Alter Egos

Mistress

Adult Programming

Corruption

Bittersweet Symphony

Score to Settle

Kitten

Heartstrings

Never meet your heroes

Huntsville

High school musical

Blue collar/white collar

The fidelity test

Astrophile

Guy-Crazy

and when i touched her skin my fingers ran with blood

i've left out a couple that are near completion but i've already posted them anyway.

the only one - husband!Joel x wife!reader

lights on - Jackson!Joel x curvy!f!reader

Something in the water - Jackson!Joel x f!reader

safe with you - sub!Harry x curvy!mistress!reader

Dreams are made of this - Jackson!Joel x f!reader

out of my control - Dave York x f!reader x Carol York