#Joel Choo
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@whumpgifathon Day 9: Explosion
C.L.I.F S05E17, Aden
#whumpgifathon#whumpgifathon day 9#clif 5#asian whump#whump#explosion#tw explosion#tw police#singapore drama#Joel Choo
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This Joel with that Tommy
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Ellie Williams Headcanons : RichOlderWoman!Ellie
I got this as an ask but Tumblr ate it 😱 so here you go anon.
Okay Okay. So, first things first, from day one Ellie was always adamant when saying that you were NEVER her sugar baby.
you were just her controversially young girlfriend who she liked to spoil and have perched on her lap during boring business meetings.
speaking of SPOLING-
she regularly takes you on trips to expensive high end malls which exclusively house designer brands and WILL buy you anything you look at as long as you hold her hand while you both walk around.
but CEO Ellie Williams is a busy woman, and doesn't always have a long enough interval between meetings to keep you company.
in those cases she simply kisses you cheek and forehead before handing you a small black card and saying "give me a show of everything you buy when I get home, hm?"
arthritis may be fast approaching but those hips do not slow
(jk she's only in her late thirties, and you know for a fact the extent of working out she does keeps her joints in check)
in fact she gives the best strap game. the experience and the variety of expensive toys and the regular gym routine = 🤩
always her arm candy
every once in a while after lovingly gazing at you for a little too long, looking at your soft supple thighs, pink lipstick coated lips and shiny hair cascading beautifully from your head. she feels insecure?
it's an odd feeling.
an unfamiliar feeling.
but Ellie is mature, it's one thing you admire about herand she knows that a problem won't be resolved unless she talks to you.
so she does, and as soon as the voices of concern fall from her lips, you soon put those thoughts to rest <333
she does the same to you!!
it was a normal day, you woke up to a cup of coffee on your bed side, a small pastry from your favorite bakery, a credit card and a note which read:
"Good Morning my love, I completely forgot about the early morning meeting I had today. I got you some pastries as an apology, I'm sorry we can't go shopping today like we planned, but here's my card and the driver can take you to the mall.
Love you pretty girl, Ellie x"
•••••••
it was a while later when Joel, your driver, pulled up outside the office building, you thanked him swiftly and walked quickly towards the automatic doors of 'Williams Enterprises Headquarters', expensive jimmy choo heels clicking against the concrete entrance. The security guard, Bob, nodded his head in greeting and you returned the gesture with a smile.
The receptionist was... different. the usual blonde haired girl was replaced by a middle aged woman with greying hair, deep set wrinkles imbedded in pale skin. "Hi what can I do for you today?" a high squeaky voice came from her mouth. a tone of voice you knew from years of retail work and customer service, you winced instinctively.
"Hi, I'm here to see Miss Williams." you reply, fingers tightening on the strap of the mulberry purse Ellie had gifted you for your 2nd anniversary a few months passed.
"hmmm. I don't see you on the schedule, do you have an appointment?" she smiled, the fakeness clear and tone of voice irritated.
"oh, uhm no. I'm her girlfriend" silence. the fake smile plastered on the woman's face falling, as she looked over behind her to a colleague who nodded in confirmation of the story you had given her.
"sorry if this is intrusive kid, but aren't you a little young." she spoke, and chewed a piece of him you hadn't noticed before rather obnoxiously. "I mean I can tell you're..." her eyes scanned your frame "reaping the benefits."
"I mean, god I can't blame you" she continued " if I had the looks and youth I once did I would happily suck off anyone for chanel. Now tell me doll, how much surgery has Mrs. Williams paid for you to have done, surely those tits aren't real?"
you quickly brushed past her, ignoring the intrusive questions and stepped into the elevator, pressing the floor Ellie's office resided on.
the site of you immediately brought a smile onto your girlfriend's previously pinched and visibly frustrated face. "Hi pretty girl,", she pushed out her chair from behind her desk, patting her thigh for you to sit on. "Hi Els." the frown you couldn't quite erase from your features furrowed your brows in a way Ellie couldn't ignore.
"What happened baby? you upset with me for leaving earlier?" she asked softly, adjusting you on her lap and kissing your temple. "nah it's not that- I just-" your hands instinctively began playing with Ellie's fingers, twisting the ring on her index finger slowly. "the new lady, in reception. she said something-" you sighed. "and I just can't shake it."
"do you think that, I'm a burden? that the fact I'm so young means I'm leeching off you? I don't want to do that Ells. I like dresses and bags and makeup and you give that to me because you can, but I just- if you ever don't want to buy me stuff, please tell me Ells, I don't want to take and take and take when you don't want me to."
a soft chuckle shook Ellie's chest "pretty girl, look at me. The reason I work is to spoil you, the reason I go to these bullshit meetings with these stuckup assholes is to give you and me a life where money is no object. I love you sweet girl" she kissed your plush lips, the tension seemingly draining out of your body at the touch.
"now, which receptionist said that?"
•••••••••
A/N: cute little hc and drabble to get me back into the swing of things.
#the last of us#ellie williams#lesbian#wlw#ellie williams fic#the last of us part 2#the last of us fic#ellie the last of us#tlou headcanons#ellie williams hcs#ellie williams headcanons#ellie headcanons#sugar mommy!ellie#CEO!ellie#rich!ellie#older!ellie#milf!ellie#younger!reader#tlou 2#tlou fic
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#6 Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: NOT Hungry
can be read with others in series or standalone
Warnings: fluff, brief puking, Joel being an overreactive sensitive bitch
- - - -
Ever since your fourth date with Joel, where you spent the evening at his apartment, and he made you his homemade empanadas while you two discussed your favorite books and movies, you were hooked. Not just to the man who would eventually be your husband and baby daddy, but to his immaculate cooking as well.
So now, years later with a ring on your finger and both of your and Joel’s belly a little fuller—okay, yours a LOT fuller—you find yourself gawking at him, propped up on the kitchen island in a high chair you took 4 minutes to climb atop, feet swaying in the air, elbows resting on the granite countertop, palms holding your chin with beady heart eyes as Joel finishes plating his hot homemade dish for you.
“Blow on it, babe. It’s hot,” he warns, not too keen on having you burn your tongue again due to your impatience. He holds a fork out as you drag the plate in front of you.
“Yes you are, handsome.”
He shakes his head, not caring that he’s blushing hard. It’s not difficult for him to admit that having you gush over his cooking for years makes him extremely proud, excited, and even more in love with you.
You can’t tell if the gurgling, rumbling summersaults in your middle is the baby kicking or your stomach growling, neither of which bother you in the slightest as you splinter the hot shell, pausing to waft the steam of shredded chicken, glazed onions and corn, a hint of his secret secret secret ingredient (its a touch of sugar—but you don’t want him to know you know), and then—
You stop, fork held in front of your mouth like the Choo Choo train hit the breaks before it could dock with the station. And suddenly something doesn’t feel very pleasant, and your senses are off, strangely, for something that should be glorious and pleasurable consuming you is now —extremely unpleasant, almost—
You drop the fork with a clatter to the plate and b-line straight to the bathroom, barely bending to your knees to the tiled floor as you hurl your stomach into the basin.
It only lasts for a few seconds, your stomach being relatively empty with no dinner having made its way down there. You wash your hands, and mouth, and then sadly waddle back into the kitchen.
“Um, Joel, I don’t think the baby likes them,” you say meekly, rubbing your hand over your belly who punches your ribcage with dignified agreement.
Joel looks at you, face plain, lips in a thin line with an unreadable expression. He calmly places the pan back on the stove, wiping his hand with the washcloth. The kitchen feels scarily quiet. Joel then puts both hands flat on the counter, holding himself up, gritting his teeth back and forth. He brings his eyes to you, with such a chilling seriousness that it sends you into shivers.
“And might I ask who’s baby you got growing’ in there then?”
EXCUSE ME?
“Joel what—what the fuck—“
“Cuz no baby o’MINE would EVER dislike my empenadas. So I’ll ask you again, who’s baby do y’got growing inside you?”
“Are you fucking serious. Because the baby doesn’t like your greasy food, I’m suddenly a cheater?”
“I’m just sayin—“
“Fuck off Joel,” you seethe, not sure if you should be trembling in rage or laughter. “The baby. Doesn’t. Like. It. Grow up. The doctor said this could happen.”
Yeah, he was there, he knows, but Jesus, it was more plausible to believe his baby wouldn’t like collard greens or strawberry ice cream, not … his fabulous abuelas homemade receipt of empanadas that his wife has adored ever since she first tried it!
Joel pulls his hands off the counter, wringing them in shame with pouty lips. “M’sorry. That was—that was wrong o’me to way that. I don’t—I know you wouldn’t…”
He struggles to suppress the little sniffle under all that macho, and suddenly you’re paddling over to him, soothingly gliding your hand over the expanse of his muscled back, kissing his massive shoulder.
“Awww, are you upset your baby doesn’t like them?”
“M’not upset,” he pouts unconvincingly. “Just—what if after you pop the kid, you still don’t like ‘em either? Then who am I gonna cook ‘em for?”
“Tommy?”
“Fuck that man-child. He can make his own shit.”
You giggle into his arm, nuzzling your face into his denim shirt. You inhale the smell of him, the mix of pine, wood and mint, a little bit of sweat, enough that its blocking the nauseating scent of the grease in the air and suddenly you feel a wave of calm wash over you, relaxed in his gentle embrace.
You smile, carding your fingers through his and bringing his flat hand to the base of your tummy.
“I promise: this baby is definitely yours. So calm now because Daddy’s scent is here to comfort her.”
Joel’s lips curl into a smile, welcoming the touch of warmth cradled by your rounded belly. “Still think it’s a girl?”
You cup his face, bringing him to you as you plant a loving kiss on the scruffy patch on his peppered cheek.
“I know it.”
- - - -
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#pedro pascal smut#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#last of us fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#last of us smut#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller fluff#joel miller fic#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#pedro pascal fic#tlou fanfiction#joel tlou#joel dealing with preggo wife
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You Fell First But He Fell Harder (Joel Miller X Reader)
Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader
Warnings: fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel, rom-com
Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah.
Summary: Grocery shopping with Joel and Sarah went wrong as you came across his ex-wife.
Words count: 1k
A/N: I’m trying to make this as a rom-com, hope you like my new series! This is part 4 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm beyond happy that many of you liked it so I hope you enjoy the next parts. Stay tuned and love you!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20
You and Joel’s playing house was getting real. From three dinners a week to five dinners a week to seven dinners a week. Every night you spent with Joel and Sarah. You even ran errands for him and Sarah like buying diapers, baby stuff and groceries. But today, he offered to go grocery shopping with you.
“Got the list?” Joel asked as he put Sarah to sit on the shopping cart.
“Let’s get the baby stuff first. We need baby food, diapers..” You read the list written on the piece of paper in your hand.
“Okay.” Joel pushed the shopping cart beside you.
“This one?” Joel grabbed a baby diaper from the cabinet.
“Yep, that one.” You nodded and Joel put it in the shopping cart.
*Sarah babbled*
“You’re bored, huh?” You caressed her head.
“Apples or bananas?” You showed two different baby food to Sarah.
“Bananas.” Joel answered while he was looking at some stuff at the cabinet.
“I’m not asking you. I’m asking Sarah.” You scoffed.
“Oh..She gets to choose her food?” Joel looked at you and raised his eyebrows.
“Freedom of speech.” You smirked.
“You’re funny.” Joel scoffed and shook his head.
Sarah babbled and her hand moved to the banana flavored baby food.
“Bananas it is.” You put the baby food inside the shopping cart.
“I think she has your taste.” You bumped Joel’s arm.
“That’s my girl.” Joel kissed his baby daughter’s head.
“Okay, let’s get some veggies! Choo Choo!” You pushed the shopping cart a bit fast and Sarah giggled.
Joel followed you from behind and laughed at your actions. For a moment, he wished you were the one whom he married and had a baby with. He was blessed to have you and see you making his baby happy. He smiled and imagined it. Until he saw Sarah’s mom, he put a frown on his face and sighed. You looked at him as he stopped.
“What is it?” You put your hand on his shoulder.
“It’s her.”
You looked in front of you and saw someone approaching the three of you. It was a woman and a man. The woman looked familiar.
“Hi, Joel.” The woman waved her hand awkwardly.
“Hi.” Joel answered coldly.
“Hi, babygirl.” She walked to get closer to Sarah.
Joel dragged back the shopping cart protectively so she couldn’t go closer.
“Joel, I’m sorry.” She apologized.
“I see you’re happy now.” He looked at the man beside her.
She sighed. You just stayed quiet. This wasn’t your business to meddle in.
“I guess you’re happy too.” She looked at you.
“Did you get the papers I sent you?” The woman asked Joel.
Joel scoffed. You saw him clenched his fist holding the shopping cart. So you put your hand on top of his and stroked his hand with your thumb while your other hand rested on his shoulder.
“Let’s go, honey.” You stroked his shoulder.
“I guess I’ll see you in court.” Joel said goodbye to Sarah’s mom.
“See you in court, Joel.” They parted ways.
Then, the three of you went home. Joel was quiet the whole way home and you didn’t ask him a thing. You understood they were talking about divorce papers. And you knew it made him angry.
“Thank you for today.” He thanked you while parking his car in the driveway.
“Anytime. We had a pact, remember?” You smiled.
“I guess it works? We’re even now.” He forced a smile and frowned again.
Joel moved the groceries from the car to his house and you carried Sarah inside. Before you walked out the door to go home, you remembered Sarah hadn’t pooped yet. It had been 45 minutes since her last feed and you remembered this baby massage thing you read.
“I forgot something.” You stopped half way.
“What?” Joel closed the door.
“Sarah hasn’t pooped.” You walked back to her room.
“That’s a problem?” Joel asked.
“Yeah. I learned about this baby massage to help them fart. Can I try?” You asked Joel for permission.
“Of course. You’re the master.” He let you.
You laid Sarah on the bed and let her get a comfortable position. Before you started, you took a deep breath in and out. You started with a slow and gentle massage of her tummy, you could feel it was full of gas. You massaged her little tummy again up and down with a gentle press.
*baby farted*
“Oh! Good girl!” You praised her as you giggled.
Joel's eyes widened. He was amazed at you. He wondered how you knew about this trick. You were not even her mom but you did a lot of research. Joel adored you.
After a few rubs on the tummy, you pumped her legs back and forth and she let out a cute fart again and again. The last one was loud but really cute.
*baby farted*
“That was a good one, baby.” You laughed.
Joel tried not to laugh but he couldn’t hold it. He finally burst into laughter as he heard his baby farted a big one. He laughed so hard holding his stomach. His jaw probably hurt from laughing too hard.
“You laughed.” You were relieved looking at Joel finally getting his happy face back.
“I’m proud of you, sweet girl. You just made your daddy laugh.” You snuggled your face to her tummy and shook your head.
“I’ve been thinking of ways to get your smile back. Mission accomplished.” You crossed your arms to your chest and put on a proud face.
"You-" Joel wanted to say something but he stopped.
“Thank you.” Joel smiled and looked at you.
His heart beat faster and he felt butterflies when he heard you said that. You didn’t only care about his daughter but you also cared about him. He suddenly saw sparkles around you and he blinked again to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. You were always beautiful in his eyes. But tonight, you were even more beautiful. He realized he just fell in love with the woman in front of him. His neighbor. You. Yes, Joel Miller was falling in love with you.
To be continued...
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@lovelyygirl8 @skysmiller @moonlightdivine @crocodiile @angie2274 @pulchritudinousrogers @peqchsoup @msecho19 @happinessinthebeing @nyotamalfoy @nakedmoondiaries @dzaga890 @pa1g3-t0mm0 @prettysbliss @wanniiieeee @one-sweet-gubler @x-ap0llo-x @feministfanboi @ordinarylokix @afterglowsb-tch13 @param8re @tomorrowseverything @hummusxx @iranispunk @mrsyixingunicorn10 @likeanimagepassingby2 @mediocrewallflow3r @pedr0swh0r3 @mxtokko @dorck26 @cascactus28 @cheyxfu @stupidthoughtsinwriting @undermoonlightwalk @bigmoodyjoody @humanbug @sarahhxx03 @krisviciousx @quixscentsposts @dgct2 @dgraysonss @heybabyshae @fluffyspaceprincess @toottmblr
#joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller one shot#joel miller x reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller x you#the last of us imagine#the last of us x reader#the last of us x you#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller fluff#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfic#pedro pascal character#pedro pascal fanfic#fanfiction#fiction#romance#romcom
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Canon was wrong.
I just posted chapter 2 of my 'Tess Lives' fic and now live in pure, shameless denial that Tess ever died.
There's No Road That Will Lead Us Back
Summary: Ellie, Joel, and Tess learn to live on the road together without wringing each other's necks in the process. Ellie is feral, Joel is savage, and Tess is trying to get everyone to Wyoming in one piece.
Set during the 3-month timeskip before winter. There are wonderful character arcs and nice campfire scenes, but it gets dramatic as hell—buckle up.
One-way ticket to Ao3. Choo choo! 🚅💨
#to the smut side of the fandom: I'm sorry this doesn't have smut but it's a pretty fun read!#tlou tess#tess servopoulos#joel x tess#my writing#ellie williams#tlou fan fiction#tlou fanfic#tess lives#tess lives fic#tess x joel
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Joel making toys for baby Miller, wooden blocks and a choo choo train and noahs ark with all the animals and a barn and a whole doll house when they get older
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SPOTTED at met steps wearing last season’s jimmy choos ? i’d leave the steps in the next 24 hours before nepoupdates catches them ! if it were me , i’d definitely go back and review the checklist of golden rules.
rhiannon kim tati gabrielle , muse 2q , jack valmount’s long term partner wc
tati gabrielle. demiwoman. she/they. › spotted at the met steps , rhiannon kim , most likely listening to vienna by billy joel with their airpods pro . the twenty six gained quite a reputation , known to be -cosmopolitan yet +whimsical to anyone who knows them . you’ll easily spot them when you hear about scratched up converse with sharpie drawings and beads tied around shoe laces, vinyls played on an old record players that look it’s about to fall apart, and vintages band posters laid out around a room with a scribbled out notebook of potential song remains untouched for the sixth time this week , followed by black orchid by tom ford . latest nepoupdates article talks about leaving the band?! musician rhiannon kim is shown leaving rival record label? unknown source states they were selling the band’s secrets! , but i guess any reputation is good reputation . ( bee , 27 , they/any , cst . )
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Choo choo all aboard the fucking delicious sugar daddy Joel fic.
Om nom nom eating this for breakfast, lunch, and dinner 🍽
Incredible
Wants and Needs
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Joel x Reader
Summary: Bills are high; your dad’s boss wants to help. How you pay him stays between you and him—for now.
Warnings: 18+. Protected piv. Explicit power imbalance in an exchange of sex for money, so dubcon, technically. Soft dom!Joel. Sex toys. Squirting. Oral (f!receiving). Overstimulation. Daddy kink. Age gap. Praise kink.
Note: Bohanan’s is a steakhouse in San Antonio, TX.
Word count: 8.4k
You wanted a car. Joel needed to cum.
It wasn’t the arrangement a girl your age should’ve made, but what could you do? Your dad drank half of your college funds away, and your mom was long gone.
The next best thing was Mr. Miller, your father’s boss. He’d understood better than anyone what money could buy. What it might do. For him, it was pleasure. For you, it was a future—or what little remained after bills and loans and exorbitantly-priced car repairs bled you dry.
You took the job at the firm on a whim. You didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore, though your dad and Joel were. You didn’t want to be done with law school, though 3L had already long since ended, and that dreaded so-called ‘minimum competency’ test was drawing close on the horizon. In short, you couldn’t afford to pay for bar prep.
With Joel, you could.
It was true that tax law paid pretty well, but a part-time job would never really be enough when your family was treading water at all times. Your dad liked to gamble and drink, and your brothers got all of their brains from him.
You got the short end of the stick, plus the receiving end of another. Lucky for you, Joel’s felt pretty good going in.
Today you were somewhere south of Austin. Your truck wouldn’t start last week, so you’d agreed to come along on this business trip knowing full well what you planned on asking your boss as soon as you had a moment alone.
“CDP hearing at…9:45.” You checked the itinerary twice.
“Alright.” Joel nodded.
“Lunch with Javier, Ezra, and Dave at twelve.”
“Mhmm.”
“Phone call with Revenue Officer Acacius at 3:30.”
“For the…?”
“Martells.”
“Okay.”
“I finished Lucien Flores’ Form 433-F for your review and left notes—” You stopped to tap your finger on a short white pile of papers between you and Joel on the desk, “—in the margins. Still need bank statements from him.”
“Lovely.”
Joel eyed the stack at first, but his gaze strayed a little.
“You should probably plan to talk strategy with my dad before Mayor Garcia’s audit tomorrow, too. Looks like a couple non-cash contributions are being disputed now.”
For a second, your eyes flitted up to him, too. It was brief.
“Sure. When’s your daddy free?” he said.
You blinked, then scanned the schedule.
“Looks like five…or six, maybe. He’s got a consult with—”
“I wasn’t talking about your father.”
You looked back up. Joel was smirking, of course. His hand had drifted a comfortable, innocent distance past the papers and across the table, to you. The pair of you happened to be in one of the glass-paneled conference rooms nearest the hotel lobby, so he had to be discreet.
He never let his fingers stray too long on yours in public. Presently, his thumb grazed your knuckles extra slow.
Posing a question, maybe.
You didn’t have the time to be tactful now, unfortunately.
“I need $2,700.”
Joel, your boss, your daddy, whatever, had to pause at that. He didn’t move his hand immediately, but he did stare harder. Longer. He searched your face for the joke.
“$2,700?” he repeated.
“Yes sir,” you answered out of habit, wincing only a little, “My truck stopped running last week, and it’s just…a lot.”
The cost. For Joel, it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket, but in your world, it was a make-or-break, fuck-your-whole-budget-for-the-next-six-months kind of bad. Suddenly, your cheeks felt warmer than they did before, and you forced yourself to look away. Peering out across the wide and gently rolling terrain of San Antonio and trying to pretend there was something thrilling to see. You’d almost forgotten how much you hated asking this.
“I can make the deposit tonight—” Joel started.
“No,” you interrupted. You wanted to turn but couldn’t. You just shook your head and kept staring out there, “Not now, I mean…I need to earn it over time, I just…”
You stumbled over the words. It was like your lips, your tongue, and your teeth were all suffering from the same sort of embarrassment pervading the brain, and you couldn’t bring your mouth to form the sentences right.
I’m not asking for a handout. I need to earn the money.
However ‘earning’ may have been grossly misconstrued in the context, it was a labor all the same. You didn’t love it, but you didn’t hate him, either. Joel was nice, albeit old enough to be your father, and it didn’t seem that he was nearly as predatory or perverse as he could’ve been. You’d been working for him for two months now, and the idea had been your own when the cash had gotten tight.
Back in April, you’d explained to him, calmly, that you couldn’t take the bar exam unless you got some extra money quick. That you wouldn’t accept his charity, but you’d pay him back in other ways. Joel had been against it at first—you were the daughter of his best friend, after all—but eventually, his carnal needs won out over his sense, as every other man would’ve done, you guessed.
At first, you’d started slow, but that hadn’t lasted very long. You fucked him regularly now, though never had you asked for an amount of cash this big out of nowhere.
Joel blinked and put a hand on his hip, like he always did when he wasn’t sure what to say. The silver in his soft, dark locks shone more in this light. He’d lost the smirk.
“You’ve done…plenty.” Now sounding sheepish.
You tried to protest again; Joel stopped you.
“I mean it. Hey, look at me,” he said next.
You did, hesitatingly. You turned from the window, and out of instinct, folded your arms over your chest. Joel paced closer to you and then he was watching. Pausing.
Brushing your arm with his and glancing once over your shoulder to make sure no one else was around to see.
He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your temple.
When he pulled away, your skin was practically ablaze.
“Mr. Miller—”
“Joel,” he corrected, quiet, “And you’ve done enough. Let me cover the car just this once, okay? Sweetheart?”
You didn’t realize you were pivoting again. That your gut was doing somersaults and your heart was ready to climb up and out of your throat. Your neck was burning.
It wasn’t even anger you sensed was simmering under the skin until you turned back to him, and your eyes flashed with ire before the words were even spoken.
“I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller. I said I want to pay.”
“It’s Joel. And I said you’ve done enough, so—”
Ire morphed to something more in a blink.
You didn’t mean to say it, but you did.
“Fine,” you huffed, suddenly exasperated, “If you’re so fucking opposed to me paying my way for this one simple thing, I’ll get another guy. Forget I asked.”
It was a low blow, for sure. Joel knew how badly you’d wanted this to stay between just you and him—and he would never dream of seeing you ‘earning your keep’ with anyone else. His expression said as much as soon as he’d heard your words; his whole face hardened at once.
But then you’d turned to leave. You didn’t care what he wanted to tell you, and if you did, you certainly weren’t brave enough to stick around to hear Joel say it then.
So you left. He had a full, busy day ahead of him anyway.
You woke up wet.
In an effort to avoid your boss, you’d run errands all day. Buried your nose in a sea of Civil Procedure notes as soon as you got a second alone, almost vomited seeing the Erie Doctrine, and went back to your hotel room to try and study there. Once you had, you napped instead.
Now your clothes stuck to your skin; the sheets around you were soaked. You peered over the big white duvet holding your body interred and saw smoke overhead.
Or steam.
Yes, definitely steam. It was drifting from the bathroom, where the door was thrown open. You shifted up to sit.
“Tess!” you yelled, “Shut the goddamn door, I’m boiling.”
As a law clerk, you weren’t afforded the luxury of a suite to yourself, so you shared it with the other new grads on work trips like these. Tess Servopoulos loved long, hot showers and never closed the fucking door. You groaned.
And, feeling depleted of all energy from your studies and the stress and the steam searing every inch of your skin, you flopped back in the bed. You kicked the covers off your legs. You’d just lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from your forehead, when an awful, fresh realization dawned.
You glanced at the clock—3:37.
“Fucking hell,” you hissed.
You were supposed to meet your dad at two to get some paperwork signed. You needed to have that filed with the court by four. He was probably engaged somewhere else by now, whether it be a client, a conference, or a couple white lines in the bathroom of a partners-only club downtown, and you wouldn’t have a hope of reaching him here. You rubbed your face and groaned again.
You’d set an alarm for 1:30—you knew you had.
Where the hell was your phone? Why was it so warm? What if he’d called? Aw fuck, he’s probably blown that thing up to hell and back by now. Maybe he was drunk. He had to be. Where was Tess? Where were your pants?
You’d made it up to your feet, clumsily, and faced a full-length mirror. Your bottoms were gone. You closed your eyes and screamed inside, remembering why they were.
“Glad you’re getting some use out of this.”
The second you heard it, your lids flew open. You turned.
And, standing in the warm yellow glow of the bathroom light—holding the culprit, your vibrator, like a prize—was Joel. Naked as the day he was born, save for one thin towel around his hips, and grinning. Moisture glistened on his chest and pooled about his feet, and his hair was smooth, tamed, and combed back neatly from his face.
He waved your silicone toy in the air, and immediately, you regretted giving him your room key the other day.
“I thought we agreed you’d wait for me—”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Your voice was thick with sleep. Joel’s own was slow, dulcet, and kind as it always was, even when teasing. When you grit your teeth, he just set the toy aside.
“I’m sorry. Bad timing. I saw your—”
“No.” You threw up both hands at once, suddenly out of breath and fucks to give, “You know what? I don’t care. You need to go. I have to be down at the courthouse—”
In twenty minutes. You cut yourself short and hurried off to find shoes. You could wear other pants. Ask another attorney to sign the forms if you couldn’t reach your dad. Forget that his boss and yours had just caught you with the vibrator he’d bought you last month and try not to feel too humiliated knowing he knew what you’d been doing. It didn’t matter—Joel didn’t matter. You slid on a mismatched pair of slacks and set off toward the door.
Then you had to stop. Joel beat you there, quick as ever.
“Listen. Hey.”
“Will you stop?!”
You pushed at his big and wet, stupidly broad chest. You felt the small grey hairs on his pecs tickle your palms, and for a second, you thought you heard a chuckle.
“You’re gonna make me late—”
“Hey, hey,” Joel said again. Of course it sounded fatherly, “I already signed the POA for Morales, hon, you’re good.”
You’re good.
“You what?” You stared at him in disbelief. How did he even know you needed Frankie’s power of attorney signed in the first place? You figured your dad would’ve mentioned it, but still, it wasn’t really Joel’s form to sign.
“The case is mine now,” he clarified, reading that look, “Wasn’t my first pick, but it is what it is. And your dad—”
Your dad was probably lagging wildly behind on his own caseload, so he’d pushed one off on his friend. Again.
“You can’t keep picking up his slack,” you gritted out, “One of these days it’s gonna bite you both in the ass. You know he shouldn’t be forcing these jobs on you.”
“I offered.”
“You caved.”
“He’s my best friend, what do you expect me to do?”
“Not let him use you! He’s making you feel bad for him.”
“And what if I did? What if I did pity the bastard?”
You scoffed. Then winced, inwardly.
I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller.
From the look on Joel’s face, he seemed to be remembering the same. He shook his head.
“That’s not…” he trailed off. He rubbed his jaw with his hand and started to move from the door, deflating some.
His other arm extended to you, wordlessly, and already anticipated what was sure to follow. You swatted him off, then walked to the bed. You considered sitting but didn’t. Instead, you crossed your arms like you always did and turned away, facing the window with a cool, flat affect.
By now, Joel knew better than to take that for what it seemed. He crossed the room to you, treading softly.
His voice turned gentle again, like an apology: “Honey…”
But your gaze was already fixed outside. You frowned.
“Darlin’,” Joel continued, undeterred, “Come on.”
And you didn’t need to see his face to hear the rest: ‘Look at me, please,’ with eyes all comfort and warmth.
“Don’t you have a phone call with an R.O. or something?” Briefly, you recalled Acacius and a stream of other items from the checklist you’d covered that morning, and you had to stop yourself then from straying too far. You blinked once, just as Joel was approaching from behind.
“I cancelled,” he said.
You sighed, “Mr. Miller…”
You knew he hated doing that.
“Joel,” he pressed. Adding, “Something came up.”
You wouldn’t even ask. You shouldn’t care. You felt him standing there, fanning hot breaths across the nape of your neck, and you really couldn’t have taken that worse. You visibly tensed, hands balling into fists at your sides, and—hell, he wouldn’t quit moving now, would he?—Joel bent down. He hesitated, as if gauging your reaction in time, then descended further. He kissed your shoulder.
You cracked; it never took much from him.
For all your inane, ancillary plays at feigning indifference, one movement of Joel’s mouth and your resolve was lost. You clung to words, weakly, but all the rest fell away.
“We don’t…want your charity. Me or my dad. Alright?”
“I know.”
Joel kissed your skin again, then pulled at the strap of your blouse. It fell limply away, and his lips reattached.
Exactly when he’d walked you back to the bed, you couldn’t be sure. By the third or fourth kiss, your stomach was tight, knees weak, and your eyes drawing closed; it didn’t matter to you or to him what had passed before. Your bodies found the bed and blended together.
Tangling, in a way. Tearing blindly at clothes and not saying too much apart from Joel’s soft, sweet words:
“That’s it.”
“I know.”
“Good girl.”
Good girl when he kissed you. Good girl when he stripped you bare. Good girl when his hands roamed the broad, naked expanse of your body and let your own do the same to him. Good girl when your fingers hooked the outline of the towel and tugged it away, your vision filled with a sight you’d come to like more and more each day.
“That’s my girl,” Joel murmured. He cradled your head while you gripped his base, “‘S’yours, baby. All yours.”
Yours. Mine. You weren’t sure you had the sense or self-possession to even know what that meant, especially here. Joel wasn’t a boyfriend. He wasn’t a lover, at least not in the traditional sense. He wore dark wool suits like your father and worked from dawn until dusk every day, practicing law for longer than you’d been alive. Still, the smile above you was sweet. It coaxed you gently as you slid your hand up and down his length, like he sensed this was more like a lesson for you. Learning experience.
“Remember, spit a little first,” he instructed. Then, to demonstrate this point, he brought his fingers to his mouth and wet them quickly. He slipped his touch down to yours and met your gaze while he joined you there.
He rubbed and slicked himself up and he did it with ease. You followed his lead and watched his face contort—crow’s feet pinching even tighter at the sides of his eyes as pleasure began to pool in his gut. He looked pretty. You’d never thought to tell him this, but Joel really had an unparalleled face. It was an old and beautiful thing. For this reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away, maybe to wet your own fingers. Instead, you slipped your hand between your legs, where his hips had come to rest. You worked a slow, light touch against your folds; you were drenched, and it didn’t take long for your fingers to be, too. You moved them back to Joel’s cock.
“Like this?” you ventured.
The man answered with a grunt, at first. Then a grin.
“Yeah. Yeah,” Joel nodded, quiet but emphatic. Trying not to smile too big as he let your touch take over for his, “Just like that, sweet pea. Get it nice an’ wet for daddy.”
You wanted to whimper at that. Something must’ve flashed in your eyes at the intonation of the last word, and the look must’ve suffused your whole expression, because the next thing you knew, Joel was lowering his body to yours. Petting your hair, letting you rub on his shaft as fast as your soft, lithe hands could manage.
“Feel that, baby? Feel how much daddy missed you?”
You did.
Your brow pinched, and you wanted more of that. More from him: those tender, edifying words of praise being mumbled your way while your touch worked him over. Maybe you could’ve helped it, but then again, in this state, maybe you couldn’t—you whimpered for him.
Wriggling your hips against the bed to get your warmth pressed flush with his own, and squeezing him tighter:
“In me, daddy. Please.”
You angled his cock in your trembling grip to plead as much. You knew he liked being the one to push in the first time, so you didn’t move too far with that push, but you begged him with your gaze. You felt him tense a bit.
And just when you sensed he might let you have your way, he moved off. Down. Sliding his torso away from your own, to go lower on the bed, and smirking again.
“I think she needs my tongue first, doesn’t she?”
You wanted to nod. Instead, you flinched. You crawled away from his hold before it could secure itself firmly on either one of your legs, and you had to snag your bottom lip between your teeth to contain that blossoming need. It almost spilled from your mouth in a moan before Joel’s could reach your lower half. Then you scrambled to sit up
“No,” you choked out.
This wasn’t new. While you shook your head, Joel lifted a brow and stood from the bed. He reached behind him.
The night stand.
You closed your eyes.
“This isn’t…supposed to be for me.” you sighed.
In a second, Joel was back where he started, and you didn’t have to steal a glance through your lids to know what he was holding. Slotting himself gently into place.
“Don’t,” he started, sharp, “—say that. I mean it.”
You knew he meant it, but you also knew better than to accept at face value what he said, moving down on you.
This wasn’t part of the deal. Joel’s money was meant to serve his pleasure, not yours. Letting him take you any other way seemed to blur the lines between transaction and affection, and though you’d done this before, it still didn’t feel right. You couldn’t bear having his focus here.
Evidently, though, he could. He’d snatched your vibrator from the night table and lowered his torso to your legs, lips twitching the tiniest bit. ‘Open up. Let me see her.’
Joel was on his stomach, eyes glowing with intrigue.
“Let me see how much she’s missed me, baby.”
The grey matter in your brain might’ve trickled through your ears—the whole thing went to mush at his words. You pushed at his hands, then the top of his head, but clearly, your will was weak. You wanted this. Needed it.
“That’s a good girl. Let daddy have it,” Joel drawled.
You wanted to cry. Or maybe hide. His index and middle fingers prodded at your folds, pulling them apart, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you’d stopped breathing. Joel kissed the slope of your mound with a quiet kind of reverence. The salt-and-pepper stubble on his chin brushed your clit, and your back arched reflexively. Then, remembering why you’d come to this arrangement in the first place, you felt a wave of guilt supplant that pleasure.
You clawed at his head and shook your own, weakly.
“No. W-wanna make you feel good,” you choked out.
Not me.
Not here.
Just let it—
“Fuck,” you keened through your teeth. Joel’s lips made contact with your slick, drooling cunt and, in a second, sucked your nub in between them. He flicked his tongue.
Joel groaned, then pulled away to meet your gaze.
“Feels plenty good f’me,” he assured you in a murmur. Eyes glossy, “She’s so fuckin’ sweet, honey. So pretty.”
Then, as if to punctuate his point, he slid his tongue down the whole wet mess of your slit, and he moaned. He curled the muscle and invaded your sticky, sensitive, precious warm flesh with vigor and force—maybe a little desperation—and you whined at the feeling. Your toes curled tight. It was doubtlessly a sight to see: Joel’s old and weathered head against your young and supple skin, the wiry greys of his chin rubbing your cunt like no man’s his age should’ve been. He took you gently. Forked his fingers over your folds to hold you open for him and then, over and over and over again, just licking stripes. Squelching noises only seemed to goad him on while he buried his nose and savored your taste without reserve. Your stomach clenched with that pleasure, then swelled.
“That’s my girl—so good for me,” Joel said, as though reminding you, gently, it was okay to relish the feeling.
Once more, he suckled your clit in his mouth, rubbing the tip of his tongue in a quick back-and-forth motion, and the next sensation hit without a breath of warning.
Your belly twisted again, then flushed with hot pleasure.
“My— fuck,” you cried, shuddering with a climax you didn’t know was coming. You held his head and whined.
Joel’s tongue didn’t stop. Your vision blurred. Whatever reprieve you might’ve hoped to find came in the form of his lips drawing back, momentarily, only to sponge little kisses on your still-pulsing heat. Your body jolted back.
“I c— I’m done. I’m done,” you blurted out.
Joel nodded against you. Humming through his kisses:
“I know. Keep going.”
Keep going.
So simple.
Still, you couldn’t breathe. Your sight was inundated with stars. You felt Joel’s stubble on your slit again, only this time, the pleasure was tripled. Your legs trembled, and your hands made fists in his hair. Joel kept on kissing.
And kissed again, again, and again, until your fingers in his locks pulled taut to the roots and your hips were bucking up in his face: ‘Too much, t—oh fuckfuckfuck.’
Then came a buzz. Skirting your legs in a blink, before diving to meet Joel’s mouth on your clit. You shrieked.
“I know, I know,” Joel joined, as though soothing a wound while he maneuvered the vibrator. Lifting his head and then kissing your thigh, “I know. You’re alright.”
You wanted to sob; you felt ready to burst. You trusted Joel’s judgment but had never been subjected to this sort of pleasure. What if it was more than you could take?
“I’m here.”
Joel’s words were slow to crawl off his tongue, but their intent was clear. You writhed once more, and he was kissing your skin, rubbing your thighs, and taking the toy to your clit with a warm, devoted touch. He wasn’t cruel.
He had a glint in his gaze when you met it, like he knew you wouldn’t accept this feeling alone—but he wanted you to. He wanted the indulgence to be your own and an end in itself. There was care in his touch, tender praise with every caress, and you guessed this was intentional. Joel needed you to know this was more than only his.
You felt more naked than you’d ever been: soaking the sheets with your last release, fresh arousal trickling out, Joel’s spit mixing with your nectar and sweat and pressing you down in the bed. And nudging you, gently.
“‘S’okay, baby. You’re alright. That feels nice, doesn’t i—”
“Kiss me.”
It came out faster than you could even try and stop it. You weren’t sure why you said it. The words were acerbic on your tongue—you hated ever sounding needy—but then your mind and your mouth and your worries were all silenced at once when Joel came clambering up for you.
His lips were wet and grinning as he kissed you. He held the vibrator hostage between your legs while his body pressed tight against yours. His movements slowed.
Then, as if he’d crawled in your head and read your mind:
“It’s okay to need me, baby. It’s okay to want this.”
His hips made that assurance even clearer. Joel reached down and took the vibrator again, increasing the friction between your groin and his while he pressed the buzzing toy to your clit. You whined into his mouth at the feeling.
Your eyes rolled back, and the pleasure soared. This morning, you might’ve bristled at the words he’d just spoken, but here, in this bed, it felt okay. It felt safe.
Joel felt safe, for once, and you weren’t sure how to keep that idea from sticking—how to reconcile the notion of swapping sex for cash with a man for months on end, and then this. Your stomach churned. He held your face and kissed you more, and your clit throbbed and ached. Before you could ponder your thoughts a second longer, a white-hot pleasure washed over, and you came again.
“Good girl,” Joel cooed.
Throbbing even more this time.
“That’s a sweet girl. That’s my baby.”
All but aching with desire. Feeling it double.
“Cum for daddy, that’s it. Keep going.”
Feeling it trickle down your legs.
“She’s feelin’ real good, huh?”
You could barely breathe.
You whined. Felt something splinter between your thighs and then more of it, more of you and that slick, oozing pleasure and Joel’s groans, overjoyed—‘Making a fucking mess’a daddy, isn’t she? She feel that good?’—and by ‘that good’ you guessed it was more than normal.
This was more warmth than usual. Somewhere in the midst of your own mind-numbing pleasure, you’d let out a spurt, sticky and wet. It now coated the hairs on Joel’s tummy, and while his skin shone, his eyes were brighter. He flitted a look to you, gaze flaring, and slid down. Low.
Back to where he was before. Moving the buzzing pink bullet aside and letting his mouth assume its place.
Of course, you yelped.
“Joel!”
You winced, both from saying his name and feeling so raw. Joel grinned at the sound and suckled your clit.
It was drenched. You and Joel, too, were doused all over and practically gleaming under the rays of late afternoon sun then pouring through the window. For a second, you cast a look outside like you had before, but it was only to brace your body for the bliss at hand. You stared and felt a crude, carnal shockwave seize you head to toe. It traveled fast and made you release, again, or else just continue the same flow as before—and this time, into Joel’s waiting mouth. He lapped at you feverishly now.
He squeezed your legs and licked you dry. He worked in merciless circles, like his life might have depended on making you stay at this peak. All the while, you were tearing at his hair. Riding his face as your body fell apart.
That was alright. This pleasure was yours for now, but there was still time yet to make it worth his while, you reasoned in a half-intoxicated state. Your legs vibrated as you started to crawl—limp—back up in the bed and, numb with elation and a desperate need to please, you stretched your arm toward the night stand. You huffed.
You reached blindly but got it. The box. Weak fingers found the first plastic strip and tore yourself a square. Then, lifting it to Joel, you ignored the last stabs of pleasure between your legs. This was fun, but still his.
“Go on,” you told him, breathless, “Fuck me.”
Joel quirked a brow. He took the condom, still panting himself. He brought the latex to his tip out of habit, then:
“Yeah? Are you sure?”
“Uh-huh.”
Your head was swimming. Somewhere entrenched in the furthest recesses of your brain you could feel it, that dizzying, self-centered pleasure. You pushed it back.
You suffocated it, and you spread your legs wide for him. You let him lay you down and tug the rubber over his cock, then nudge at your hips to situate himself in just the right way. How he liked it. He seemed to be content, and your heart swelled. In this airy, buoyant state, you felt more at ease to speak, sure that he’d understand.
“This should cover some of it, right?” you panted out.
Joel slowed.
“What?”
You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eager to keep going. But you steeled yourself, just barely, then.
“Sex. Now,” you said, “It’ll cover some of my car repairs.”
Instead of nodding like you’d expected, Joel only blinked. Then you opened your mouth to speak again, and his body stopped you cold. He planted a hand beside your head on the pillow and raised his hips; you felt his heat leave with it. You reached for his backside immediately, to try and pull him back into that pre-missionary position he’d held, when Joel brushed you off. His face was hard.
“Money?” he quipped.
“Yeah,” you started, then remembered how you talked outside of the bedroom, when he seemed more serious, “We’ll go again. All week. You can even put it in my—”
Joel balked, like you’d just slapped him across the face.
“No,” he said, sharp.
“No,” he repeated, more to himself this second time. Almost as though he couldn’t believe what you were suggesting—and making him guilty by association.
Joel clenched your pillow like a vice and shook his head.
“You’re not getting paid for this,” he finished, and when your gaze penetrated his, confused, he squeezed harder.
“Thought you wanted it.” Joel added, almost shamefully.
“I do! I do…I just—” you sputtered.
“What? Think you need to offer up a week and a half of fucking to make it worth my time? Is that what this is?”
Well, in a way, maybe.
You weren’t sure what to say. Former dizzying bliss was dwindling fast, and now you were facing him cold. Sober.
Increasingly irritated, again.
“I just need money, Mr. Miller—”
“It’s Joel, hon,” he bit back, for the fourth time that day. His eyes flared with something more, maybe annoyance, but then he was tempering it just as fast. He ran a hand through his damp grey hair and shook his head, pausing, “It’s Joel. I know you need the money, baby, but it’s—”
“It’s what we agreed,” you protested, “What I need—”
“Well it’s not what I want!” Joel barked.
Anger surged again, and this time, evidently, the feeling was harder to keep at bay. He was scarcely able to rein in his features, settling on a grave little scowl instead of a frown, and he sucked in shorter, shallower breaths through his nose. You felt him let your pillow go.
“Forget it—the cash.” Joel grit his teeth even tighter, “Forget these payments and the goddamn allowance I’ve had you on. I can’t do that anymore. It’s not right.”
Your heart sank.
You didn’t know what to say.
Luckily, Joel’s voice resumed on its own.
“Whatever you want, whatever you need, sweetheart…”
He stopped. Silence followed, then stretched on for one full, terrible minute. In that interim, you could see his chest rise and fall fast. He was trying to slow it down.
“Whatever you need paid off, I’ll do it. Anything. You don’t have to touch me again. It was wrong of me to allow that in the first place,” he rejoined, tone cooling.
Sounding guilty, too.
Above you, Joel didn’t seem keen on holding your gaze, so he fixed his stare someplace on the headboard instead. Then he moved off your body, slowly.
In spite of the distance he attempted to give, he was still crowding your space. Looming large and bare and weary as you’d ever seen him, knees shuffling back awkwardly through a mass of cotton sheets while his eyes shifted low. Away. The rest of him filled your lungs with a heady cologne scent and your stomach with a thousand tiny blades—you were hurt that he wasn’t sticking to his end of the bargain. You were mad that he was trying to claim the moral high ground now, after everything you’d done.
Mostly, though, you were just upset that you felt like you were losing someone close. That Joel Miller was more of a confidant, friend, and father figure than your own dad had ever been, and that got all fucked up over money. Your lips pursed, and something stung behind your eyes when you reached for him again. Your throat stung, too.
“The reason I agreed to do this,” Joel went on, and the ache in your head worsened when he winced from your touch, “was ‘cause I didn’t want you getting ‘help’ from anyone else. I was selfish. And that’s not an excuse…”
He started to move off, hand dropping from yours.
“…but it’s the truth. I’m sorry.”
At length, Joel found your gaze, and the eyes said it all over again: I’m sorry. You might’ve believed them, too.
But you were you, and you couldn’t help but press:
“Why?”
Your voice was small. Joel was trying to stand from the bed, but you grabbed at his hand again and made him meet your eyes. Confusion was painted across his own.
Kneeling in front of him, curious, you tried to clarify.
“Why’d it have to be you?”
Judging from Joel’s expression as soon as you did, you got the sense that this question made him feel dumb. He frowned, but he held your stare and answered anyway.
“Because I wanted you first,” he replied, “Before all this.”
Your stomach twisted. He did?
You didn’t need to ask twice to know what that meant. What he’d said, in words and with a look, was enough. Still, it was always in you to know more, to be sure, so you crept a little closer. You let your hands roam up and—
“No,” Joel said, as soon as your fingers reached his side.
You’d just wanted to feel him, maybe prod him further on what he’d just said through acts that didn’t require verbal articulation, but he refused. He backed up in bed.
“This isn’t about—” he started, low.
“Sex. I know,” you answered for him. Then your touch grazed his thigh, and you were dying to have more. To be told in a way you both knew and understood. To touch, “You want me to believe you really…liked me before?”
“More than you know.”
There was that blunt, open pragmatism in the Joel you’d always known. Perhaps guided by natural inclinations, or else your hand on his leg, drawing higher. Moving closer.
Showing skepticism through your eyes and the hint of a playful, disbelieving smile starting to curl at your lips.
“When you met me?” you teased.
You’d known of Joel for years, and had met him a couple times as a teenager at various firm holiday functions. You probably hadn’t exchanged more than ten words altogether before starting law school a few years back.
“Hell no,” Joel answered, fast, “When you started work.”
His gaze was timid again. It was fixed on his thigh where you’d started to slide your index up the warm, muscled expanse of his skin, and though you could tell he was more than hesitant, you wanted to know. Wanted to feel.
It wasn’t so easy convincing a man you’d been working for—and fucking, largely without feeling—to pay bills that you wanted him here and now. But you needed to try.
That maybe, somewhere along the way, you’d come to want him, too. That cash wasn’t the only thing at stake.
You crawled between his legs, then straddled his hips.
Your lips smiling still as you did: “How much?”
Joel blinked back. Dazed.
“What do you m—”
“How much did you like me? When did it start?”
Joel sighed when your heat rubbed his. He tried grabbing ahold of your hips, when you glanced down and saw he’d already discarded the last condom. You couldn’t have that if you wanted to continue this talk.
You reached back and grabbed another.
“Darlin’,” Joel said, strained, “We shouldn’t…”
“Says who?”
You’d already worked the rubber halfway down his length when his heavy-lidded gaze locked with yours. You saw lust there, mixed with worry. Curiosity. You kept going.
“Says your dad, if he ever finds out what I’ve done to his little girl,” Joel replied, closing his eyes at the feeling.
You had the latex worked down to the base of him when you smiled. Felt him seize your hips, lids fluttering open to find you in their soft, glossy stare, and you felt better. Like clockwork, you went together and joined, at last. You felt Joel squeeze your backside and groan when you first sank down to take him whole. You shuddered, too.
But you tried to steady your voice as you spoke.
“Semantics, Miller,” you told him, only faltering a little, “Things you are ‘doing’ to his little girl. Not just ‘done.’”
There, you had a point. Surely your father would have had some choice words for his business partner and best friend if he knew how far Joel’s cock was currently stuffed inside your tight, wet cunt. It might even piss him off, if he weren’t too drunk to receive the news himself.
Joel blinked hard, signaling that he knew this too, and presently watched your body swallow all eight inches at once, after you’d raised yourself up to just the tip and sank back. Your ass fell to his groin with an obscene sort of squelch, and your walls involuntarily clenched. You both let out sounds of pleasure, and held on tighter.
Your hands on his chest for stability, while one of his own held your hip and the other fumbled around for your clit, gliding through the sheen of your arousal on his front. You rocked your hips and felt how much it really was—how you’d drenched his whole abdomen with your last release. You smiled at this and stared, pleased with the pretty, sticky display you’d laid bare all over Joel’s belly.
When Joel wasn’t watching you ride, he stared there too.
“Not so ‘little’ anymore,” he mused quietly. Then he looked up to find your eyes, seeing them as glazed as his, “And I ‘like’ you, hon. Present tense. Not just…‘liked.’”
Alright.
“How much?”
You wanted to say it with some confidence. Nonchalance. Then Joel’s cock nicked a particularly sensitive ridge inside your walls, and that thought was gone as quick as it had come. You gripped the flesh of his upper chest and rolled your hips harder. Let out your breaths in little fractured whimpers while you rode him more. Another sweet feeling twisted low in your gut.
With just a glimpse of that, Joel moved his hand from your heat up past your hips and waist, to squeeze one of your breasts. His fingers were wet. You could feel them, equal parts warmth and wanton yearning as the pads pinched your nipple and gave it a firm tug. He grunted.
Clearly, there was more to it than just the touching and feeling for him—Joel’s eyes drank in the sight of your skin as it glistened with the arousal he’d just smeared. He thumbed at the wet, stiff peak and swallowed. And, just as you were about to adjust the rhythm of your hips bouncing on him, his free hand joined the first and pulled you down. You cried feeling his cock wedge deep; your hands fell to either side of his body when he yanked your face down to his. He fucked up into you from underneath
You squealed, soft, “Joel!”
He kissed your open mouth. Made you lay flat overtop him while he fucked your dripping hole. You whimpered.
“Joel—” Again.
“I like you so much, sweetheart,” he said, in answer to your last question, lips close, “Does she like me too?”
As if to save him the trouble of a swift reply in words, your body told him instead. You squeezed around his cock, and with another desperate cry, bit his shoulder. He hammered your poor, aching pussy with a groan of his own, and he held your body down to his. Grinning.
Kissing the side of your head while he pounded away. Stroking your hair, “Is that a ‘yes’? She like her daddy?”
Drool was bound to slip out of your mouth any second. Your lips were locked in a permanent ‘o’ while he drilled from under you on the bed. Still, you managed to nod.
“Uh-huh—oh, fuck, fuck, da-ddy. Yes, daddy.”
You squeezed your eyes shut as another blistering wave seared your insides. Joel was relentless with his thrusts now, driving himself in and out without stopping or slowing. He must’ve known you were close. He was too, judging by the sounds of his grunts and hushed tone.
“Let daddy take care of her then, baby. All of her. OK?”
His words trickled through your ear as sweet as honey. His cock was less kind, but that was okay—you liked it.
You loved him here. Taking care of you. Her. Everything.
And, in this half-coherent state of fuckdrunk pleasure, you were tempted to give in to whatever he begged.
It would be so easy. Joel cradled your face in his hand, practically beaming with pride while he fucked you over and over, and your legs were spread, walls were stretched, eyes practically rolling back, and you felt more secure than you’d been in ages. Joel could care for you.
He rubbed his thumb over your cheek and hummed.
“Daddy’s got you,” he said, voice all warm assurance.
Nudging you closer and closer to your peak—and perhaps some other form of surrender. Release.
Submission?
Joel wouldn’t be so bad for that.
He could fuck you well and leave you content. Make you forget what it meant to be strapped for cash and saddled with guilt and worry over bills every month. Joel could provide, for now. His eyes said as much; his fingers threaded through your hair and rubbed your scalp. He cupped your face, all fifty-six years in his own looking as handsome as they’d ever been. He felt good. He felt safe.
You were hot. Your legs trembled and ached.
“Is that something you’d want?” he pressed.
And, still holding Joel’s gaze with a heavy-lidded, fucked out look of your own, you surprised yourself by nodding, slowly. Your body was spent, but the curve on your lips, then his, was sincere; Joel nodded back as he grinned.
“Yeah? You mean it, sweetheart?”
He flipped you both over and got on top, never breaking apart. You wound your legs around his back and let him cup your cheeks again, and from this angle, you felt it. You wouldn’t try and fight it now; you just kissed him.
Then you came for a third time, walls clenching and squeezing and gushing again, smearing Joel’s front as he fucked you right through it. His groans were a little more subdued than yours, but in their timbre, you could hear his desperation. He emptied himself inside you, in the condom, and kept holding your face all the while.
You felt a low pulse between your legs. Then another. And another. And another. Joel’s hips began to still, his hefty greying belly bumping lightly against your skin while he drained what was left in his balls, and you swore that his bones might’ve creaked from the sheer force of those final thrusts. He seemed exhausted. Somehow, though, the man looked even better in this state—haggard and worn as he was, the face above your own was soft. Smiling, faintly, and kissing you constantly.
You couldn’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it; you were far too tired and fucked out of your mind to protest right now.
Joel trailed a path with his lips from your chin to your ear. He kissed the hinge of your jaw and sank himself deeper.
“Mr.—” But you caught yourself, shortly, “…Joel.”
He lifted his head, not apologetic in the least.
“Maybe just one more—” he started.
“No,” you finished for him, sharp.
Still smiling, but with your eyes on him in a thinly veiled threat. Joel accepted that and kept his dick where it was.
What followed was gradual but natural enough. A little awkward as you broached that uncharted territory of remaining in the other’s presence after the deed was done, but Joel didn’t seem like he wanted to leave the bed, and you had nowhere else to go until dinner with your dad at eight. There was a moment you wanted to separate your body from Joel’s, if only to slip off to the bathroom by yourself, but the man just held you closer.
“You think your old man will mind if I joined tonight?”
Here the fuck we go.
“He’ll kill you.”
You pushed hard against his hold without getting so much as an inch of give. Joel had to fight back a chuckle.
“Oh, yeah? Why?”
“Because,” you began in a huff. Wriggling with very little success in his arms, while you were pinned in missionary, “I smell like you. You smell like me. My dad’s a drunk, but he can sniff stuff like that out in a heartbeat. Too risky.”
You punctuated those words with a still more serious look, but before you could nudge at his chest again or say something more, you were forced to swallow a scream. Joel’s grip tightened even more, and he moved to stand up from the bed—with you still in his arms and impaled on his cock. He started to walk to the bathroom.
“Great. Shower’s got plenty of room for the two of us.”
“Joel!”
“Glad I don’t have to keep reminding you of my name.”
His voice was smug. Your gaze was hard. Joel was still hard himself, amazingly, and you almost groaned when you felt the head of his cock bump somewhere soft and sensitive inside. He toted you into the big, bright room.
“If not tonight, how ‘bout tomorrow? Just you and me.”
He would never stop this shit. He reached for the faucet.
“Still too dangerous. You know that,” you chided. Your resolve only wavered a little when you felt the hot water start to pelt at your back. Joel closed the glass door, “Besides…I need to focus on figuring my shit out right now. Work and bills and getting myself a rental car soon.”
Joel paused. He turned, still holding you.
Then, just as swiftly as he’d stepped inside, he carried you right back out of the shower. You whined in protest.
He took you over to the bed and set you down. He left to find his wallet and keys. You might’ve been tempted to voice your displeasure in some other way—namely, by marching back to the bathroom, locking the door, and bathing alone—but before you could speak a word, Joel was back. He looked down at you and held out his fist.
“What’s—”
“Your dad and me’ll be up to our eyeballs in bullshit working the Garcia audit tomorrow—and I know you don’t want him seeing us leave together anywhere—so we can meet at Bohanan’s at six. How does that sound?”
You blinked.
“I don’t…have a car.”
Joel opened his hand. Keys dropped out.
In a single glance, you could see they weren’t his.
Joel drove a garish Super Duty F-450, not an Audi. The cogs were quick to turn in your head, but clearly not fast enough, because Joel was closing your fingers over the keys before you could breathe so much as a syllable to him. When you did, it came out more like a stutter. Palpably mad but far too rattled to get much out:
“Joel, I-I can’t—”
“I’ve been meaning to buy one anyw—”
“You’re insane,” you started to push the keys back, and for some reason, your heart was thudding extra hard as you did. You went on, unblinking, “You don’t…need to.”
“I want to.”
Joel’s hands were warm when he pressed both of his palms to secure yours between them. He could probably feel the way it shook a little, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze was too busy trying to find, and hold, your own while you swallowed and stared and racked your numb brain for any words of defiance. At length, nothing came.
All you could do was meet that look. In the soft brown irises above, you could see it all—the need to comfort, and care, and provide where he could, offer better than the hand you’d been dealt and maybe, interspersed with those feelings somewhere, a simpler need in him to give.
For once, you wanted to believe it.
Fun fact: This fic was inspired by true events‼️💯 My life 😫🤪😤😈 Like reader, my truck is also busted as SHIT and needs $2,700 in repairs!!!! Unlike reader, I will not be sucking and fucking Joel Miller to recoup my losses (not asking for donations, just wanted to give y’all a giggle at my misfortune LOL)
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Give A Little Bit - Supertramp
Gloria - Umberto Tozzi
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Hanging On The Telephone - Blondie
Happy Together - The Turtles
Happy X-Mas - John Lennon, Plastic Ono Band
Have You Ever Seen The Rain - Creedence Clearwater Revival
Heart Of Glass - Blondie
Heaven Must Be Missing An Angel - Tavares
Help! - The Beatles
Highway To Hell - AC/DC
Hiroshima - Wishful Thinking
Hitchin' A Ride - Vanity Fare
Hold The Line - Toto
Horoscope - Harpo
Hot Child In The City - Nick Gilder
Hot Stuff - Donna Summer
Hotel California - Eagles
How Long - Ace
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I Am… I Said - Neil Diamond
I Can't Stand The Rain - Eruption
I Don't Like Mondays - The Boomtown Rats
I Feel Love - Donna Summer
I Love The Nightlife (Disco 'Round) - Alicia Bridges
I Only Want To Be With You - The Tourists
I Want Your Love - CHIC
I Was Made For Dancing - Leif Garrett
I Was Made For Lovin' You - KISS
I Was Only Joking - Rod Stewart
I Will Survive - Gloria Gaynor
I'd Love You To Want Me - Lobo
I'll Be Your Woman - Pussycat
I'll Meet You At Midnight - Smokie
I'm In The Mood For Dancing - The Nolans
If I Can't Have You - Yvonne Elliman
If You Can't Give Me Love - Suzi Quatro
If You Leave Me Now - Chicago
In Zaire - Johnny Wakelin
It's A Game - Bay City Rollers
It's A Heartache - Bonnie Tyler
It's So Easy - Linda Ronstadt
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Je t'aime… Moi Non Plus - Serge Gainsbourg, Jane Birkin
Jeans On - David Dundas
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Keep It Comin' Love - KC & The Sunshine Band
Kiss And Say Goodbye - The Manhattans
Kiss You All Over - Exile
Knock On Wood - Amii Stewart
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Lady In Black - Uriah Heep
Last Train To London - Electric Light Orchestra
Le Freak - CHIC!
Let The Love Flow - The Bellamy Brothers
Let's All Chant - Michael Zager Band
Let’s Stick Together��- Bryan Ferry
Listen To The Music - The Doobie Brothers
Living Next Door To Alice - Smokie
Lola - The Kinks
Lonesome Loser - Little River Band
Lost In France - Bonnie Tyler
Love Grows - Edison Lighthouse
Love Is In The Air - John Paul Young
Love Is Like Oxygen - Sweet
Love Machine - Supermax
Love Me - Yvonne Elliman
Lucille - Kenny Rogers
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Ma Baker - Boney M.
Magic - Pilot
Magic Fly - Space
Mamma Mia - ABBA
Mandy - Barry Manilow
Many Too Many - Genesis
Me And You And A Dog Named Boo - Lobo
Merry Xmas Everybody - Slade (Xmas)
Message In A Bottle - The Police
Mexican Girl - Smokie
Midnight Blue - Cliff Richard
Miss You - The Rolling Stones
Money - The Flying Lizards
More, More, More - Andrea True Connection
Mr. Blue Sky - Electric Light Orcestra
Mull Of Kintyre - Wings
My Coo Ca Choo - Alvin Stardust
My Life - Billy Joel
My Sharona - The Knack
My Simple Heart - The Three Degrees
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Top Songs of 1973 - Hits of 1973
Top Songs of 1973 - Hits of 1973 Top Songs of 1973 including: 10cc - Rubber Bullets, Aerosmith - Dream On, Albert Hammond - The Free Electric Band, Alice Cooper - Hello Hooray, Alvin Stardust - My Coo Ca Choo, Anne-Marie David - Tu Te Reconnaîtras, Barrabás - Mr Money, Barry Blue - Dancing On A Saturday Night and many more! Subscribe to our channel to see more of our content! 1. 10cc - Rubber Bullets 2. Aerosmith - Dream On 3. Albert Hammond - The Free Electric Band 4. Alice Cooper - Hello Hooray 5. Alvin Stardust - My Coo Ca Choo 6. Anne-Marie David - Tu Te Reconnaîtras 7. Barrabás - Mr Money 8. Barry Blue - Dancing On A Saturday Night 9. Bernd Clüver - Der Junge mit der Mundharmonika 10. Bernd Clüver - Der Kleine Prinz 11. Billy Joel - Piano Man 12. Billy Paul - Me And Mrs. Jones 13. Camilo Sesto - Algo Más 14. Cindy & Bert - Immer wieder Sonntags 15. Cliff Richard - Power To All Our Friends 16. David Cassidy - Daydreamer 17. Demis Roussos - Forever and Ever 18. Demis Roussos - Goodbye My Love Goodbye 19. Demis Roussos - My Friend The Wind 20. Demis Roussos - Velvet Mornings 21. Elton John - Daniel 22. Fórmula V - Eva María 23. Freddy Breck - Bianca 24. George Harrison - Give Me Love (Give Me Peace On Earth) 25. Gilbert O'Sullivan - Get Down 26. Golden Earring - Radar Love 27. Grand Funk Railroad - We're An American Band 28. I Camaleonti - Perchè Ti Amo 29. Ireen Sheer - Goodbye Mama 30. Jim Croce - I Got A Name 31. Johnny Hallyday & Sylvie Vartan - J'ai Un Problème 32. Les Humphries Singers - Mama Loo 33. Lou Reed - Walk On The Wild Side 34. Lucio Battisti - Il Mio Canto Libero 35. Lynyrd Skynyrd - Free Bird 36. Marie Osmond - Paper Roses 37. Michael Jackson - Music & Me 38. Michel Sardou - La Maladie D'amour 39. Mike Brant - Tout Donné Tout Repris 40. Mocedades - Eres Tú 41. Mud - Dynamite 42. Mungo Jerry - Alright, Alright, Alright 43. Nino Bravo - América, América 44. Paul McCartney & Wings - Hi Hi Hi 45. Paul McCartney & Wings - Live And Let Die 46. Paul McCartney & Wings - My Love 47. Perry Como - And I Love You So 48. Pink Floyd - Money 49. Pooh - Io E Te Per Altri Giorni 50. Redbone - We Were All Wounded At Wounded Knee 51. Ringo Starr - Photograph 52. Roberta Flack - Killing Me Softly With His Song 53. Santabárbara - Charly 54. Secos & Molhados - O Vira 55. Simon Butterfly - Rain, Rain, Rain 56. Slade - Cum On Feel The Noize 57. Status Quo - Caroline 58. Stories - Brother Louie 59. Suzi Quatro - 48 Crash 60. Suzi Quatro - Can The Can 61. Sweet - Blockbuster 62. Sweet - Hell Raiser 63. Sweet - The Ballroom Blitz 64. T. Rex - 20th Century Boy 65. The Carpenters - Yesterday Once More 66. The Doobie Brothers - Long Train Running 67. The New Seekers - You Wouldn't Find Another Fool Like Me 68. The Rolling Stones - Angie 69. Tony Orlando & Dawn - Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round The Old Oak Tree 70. Wizzard - See My Baby Jive Related Searches: Greatest Hits of 1973, Best Jukebox 1973 Playlist, Late 1973 Non Stop , Top 1973 Non Stop, Mix 1973 Compilation, Best 1973 List, Late 1973 UK, Best 1973 Playlist, Best 1973 Non Stop, Best 1973 Video, Greatest 1973 Non Stop, Mix 1973 Playlist, Best Jukebox 1973 List, List of 1973 Mix, Top 1973 USA, Best Songs of 1973, Top Music 1973, Hits of 1973 Relate Hashtags: #songsof1973 #hits1973 #songs1973 #listof1973mix #hits1973 #bestsongs1973 #classic1973playlist #greatest1973nonstop #best1973list #best1973video #top1973mix #greatest1973video #mix1973playlist #top1973nonstop #mix1973compilation This Youtube channel does not receive any advertising income, we are very grateful for any Paypal donation, no matter how small, to continue making videos about the history of music. Link: https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=HEHMNQ4E3T3ML https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iU98WdZCaUY
#80S Greatest Hits#Songs Of 1980S#Old Songs#80S Songs#80S Music Hits#80S Hits#80S Songs Playlist#Grea
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💕Confessions of the Immortal💕
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on,” growled Joel stubbornly as his dark eyes bore down upon her. “I suggest starting with how it’s possible for your husband and I to share identical…everything.”
Eternity sighed heavily, before she explained as quickly as she could, “There are things in this world — things that most humans go through life never knowing — that are supernatural in nature. There is a whole society hidden in shadows where the supernatural roam, in fact. You, sir, are a part of that supernatural world, because you are a doppelgänger of one Elijah Mikaelson. You are his shadow self and you exist because Elijah is a vampire. You see, his mortal life never reached a natural conclusion, hence the existence of a doppelgänger — and you’re probably not the first. This is why you and Elijah are identical in almost every way.”
Joel blinked rapidly at her, doing his best to keep up with what Eternity was saying. However, he was having trouble wrapping his head around existence of the supernatural — vampires, and doppelgängers. He felt as if he had woken up in the Twilight Zone, some alternate reality on some other plane of existence.
It was all so ridiculously fictional sounding that he immediately wanted to deny everything, to scoff at it all and call bullshit on it. Yet, he couldn’t do so, because he knew all along that he was a part of something supernatural, just by having Eternity in his life and seeing her wonders all the damn time for the past seven years.
The only difference now was that he could no longer ignore her strange abilities.
Chapter Six Preview of ‘Mirror Image’
* * * Come hop on the Elinity/Joelinity/Klanity train and read this fic, as well as all my others at the links to my AO3/Wattpad profiles: Here! Choo choo! All aboard!!! 🚂🧛♂️🦄
#a chapter preview#chapter six#mirror image#joel goran#oc: eternity#elijah mikaelson#joel goran x oc#elijah mikaelson x oc#joel x eternity#elijah x eternity#joelinity#elinity#saving hope x the originals crossover#alternate universe#alternate pairings#daniel gillies#my oc eternity#my au fanfiction#my oc fanfiction
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"Sonia, for all of your boldness, I think you could get away with wearing something a little more daring than this. While I'm certainly not suggesting you wear something from a gravure shoot, wouldn't you want to try out some of the shorter skirts and other outfits? You'd look amazing in them!" Eira smiles, already checking the racks of the dressing room for colors and styles that would fit the princess.
"The windows into the studio are frosted, so even if someone did know you were here, there's little they could do about it. Bacchus and the rest of the security do a fantastic job keeping fans away whenever they do come by. This is one of the few places I feel safe and can just... kick back and be whatever I feel like being. Part of being an idol is experimenting with who you want to be, and how you want to be seen. Whatever happens here won't get out of our hands. I can assure you. So! This is your chance to have some fun, and also wear outfits you probably couldn't wear otherwise."
Beside Eira, for once, it was Sonia who was hesitant. Sonia, who found exploring convenience stores at three AM to be an adventure. Sonia, who eagerly befriended ghosts. Her hands sifted through the various racks and hangers while the princess herself shivered in the terrycloth robe she wore. The attire she'd worn to a business meeting, a luncheon, and a ribbon cutting hung on a separate hanger away from the idol's attire: a tweed skirt-suit with a hemline that grazed her knees, a silk bow blouse, and suede Jimmy Choo heels. All in all, nothing out of the ordinary. She held up a pale yellow frilly...something. Were those shorts or a skirt? Before shaking her head and placing them back on the rack.
"It's different for you, Eira-chan. This is the personality you must adopt for your career," Sonia explained. She wasn't frustrated, but she wasn't cheerful either: she simply...was. She'd accepted that some things, like her birth and future, were not able to be altered. "Idols are supposed to be lively, young, and with plenty of outfits inspired by schoolgirls or maids most of the time. At least, that's what I remember my idol friend in high school wearing often. But when I turned eighteen, my life became different: I could step outside and be ambushed by cameras, all looking for the photograph that will embarrass me and make them rich. For goodness sake, I have metal weights sewn into most of my skirts and dresses just in case of wind!"
All it took was one unfortunate panty shot on an airport tarmac and then every female member of the Royal Family's dresses were altered over the course of a week, with new ones coming with the tiny metal weights already stitched into the hems. Sonia held up one of the maid outfits she'd suggested, this one with a very ruffly white apron over tiers of pink, frothy ruffles in the dress' skirt. That one was also put away.
"I feel as if we have to portray a similar personality, though, but in different ways," She continued, coming to the end of one rack of frills while another awaited her. "We must both appear to be kind, friendly, approachable, and without romantic interests to speak of. And despite all I've got of the latter being arrangements my family and the Royal Council have set up for me, dinners at Joel Robuchon or private hotel dining rooms never call for such a short hemline. I turned eighteen and that day, I supposedly became a woman, not a girl. And women, at least in my family, are supposed to exude timeless elegance. Not cuteness."
It was only when she finished did the princess realize how dour she sounded. She quickly glanced at her friend, shaking her head with a smile. "Not that my situation is so dire! I have plenty more freedoms than other royals, the Japanese princesses in particular. They aren't even allowed to wear the shorter skirts with their school uniforms, nor are they allowed to inherit the Chrysanthemum Throne: it must go to the first eligible male heir of the bloodline."
That, in Sonia's opinion, was far worse. But Eira had nixed the lolita outfit Sonia had originally held up for approval: Burgundy and black with lace, ribbons, and would make her look like a proper vampire with her fair complexion and a bit of red eyeshadow and lipstick. The problem, it seemed, was the hem that ended just above the knees and that was not cute enough nor suitable for an idol. At least Eira could, one day, stop being an idol and likely dress and live as she wished. For Sonia, she would be a professional royal until the day she died. At least, as she thumbed through racks, she could temporarily forget about it.
Especially as she stumbled upon the most risque attire yet. With a gasp and widened eyes, Sonia held up the hanger towards Eira: a black patent vinyl crop top and matching very short skirt, black vinyl thigh high stockings and gloves, and a harness and headdress in the shape of bat wings with coordinating ruffled frills and ribbons. "Goodness, this is tighter and less fabric than my usual wet suit!" Sonia exclaimed, cheeks pink as she had to consider the obvious. "Did you wear this for a spooky Halloween concert? However did you manage not to show your undergarments?"
#more-than-a-princess answered#dcviated#Non-Despair AU: The Princess of Novoselic#(Sonia's very confused as to how Eira and her groupmates are not constantly subjected to inappropriate photos and videos tbh)#(And I wanted her to hold up perhaps the most un-Sonia outfit possible...while still being dark and kawaii)#(Not the right blog but: You're welcome for the mental image Wylan.)
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Would you rather:
Have Christopher fuck you with his big toe
Or
Have Joel say "its cumming, its almost here choo choo" as he nuts inside you
Discuss
Send an ask idk
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“Alright, little fella. What’s wrong?” Joel bent over the blanket and cupped his hands under Gabe’s arms, picking him up.
"He hates me. That’s what’s wrong,” Ellie said as Gabe’s cries died down.
“He doesn’t hate you. He needs to get to know you better is all,” Joel said.
Ellie wasn’t so sure about that. Gabe blinked wet eyelashes at her, his tiny fist gripping the fabric of Joel’s T-shirt, still whimpering like he was afraid of her.
Summary: Ellie is slow to warm up to Tommy and Maria's wittle baby. A short, heart-warming story with a lot of jokes sprinkled in.
One-way ticket to Ao3. Choo choo! 🚅💨
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Janus’ Playlist
AHH JANUS' PLAYLIST LETS GOO
Not that anyone asked for my opinions
Okay so I'd like to start by saying that Thomas, Joan and Talyn did an amazing job on this playlist because every song fits Janus so perfectly.
Here are some of my thoughts on the songs and some interpretations I came up with or found on the internet.
Trigger Warnings - abortion. Mocking of religion.
Black Hole Sun - okay at first I was like 'wow this is really smooth and nice and the vocals are so sweet.' Then I heard the lyrics. "In disguises no one knows,
Hides the face, lies the snake". It's such a Deceit song and I imagine him dancing to it (with or without a partner).
Black Hole Sun by Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox, Haley Reinhart
It Seemed That Better Way - holy heck, can I point out that this song is such a bop? Leonard Cohen has such a soothing voice and it reminds me of Patrick Page (aha Hadestown) and if Janus wasn't played by Thomas, I could imagine this as his voice. The song is about not knowing what the truth is and what to believe, and has religious meanings which could be countering Patton and his Catholic beliefs.
It Seemed The Better Way by Leonard Cohen
Anywhere - I feel like Patton would hate this because the first line is "It's a beautiful world if you've been lied to by parents and priests". Anywhere describes how the world isn't a beautiful as it may seem, and that people lie to make you see it.
Anywhere by The Scarring Party
Talking At The Same Time - it is immediately dark and that everything seems fake and a... Lie. A lot of Deceit's songs are about the truth or that everything is a lie and I have to give massive kudos to Thomas, Joan and Talyn because they did an excellent job portraying Janus through his music taste. The song describes how everyone talks at the same time, and what I interpret that as is that everyone says the same thing over and over. It's hard to explain so I'll let you make your own interpretations of it.
Talking At The Same Time by Tom Waits
all the good girls go to hell - I'm not going to lie (ha) but I don't like Billie Eyelash, but I'll see past the artist. My first thought when I saw the song without hearing it is that it's a good choice and Janus probably loves Billie Eilish. Spotify has meanings of songs so I'm going to go off there: "This song is in the perspective of the Devil / no matter how good you are, desperate measures will eventually break you / turn you into bad." I feel like Deceit would sing this around the house. This song is twisting Christian symbolism and the lyrics can be interpreted as Eilish praising people who go to hell as it's better than being morally good. (Also, just switch Peter with Patton)
all the bad girls go to hell by Billie Eilish
Denial - KDJIEKAKSNDENIAL? In Putting Others First, Janus is referred to as Denial and now this song? Everyone start clapping for Thomas and his team. Anyway, the song discusses themes of conflict within a relationship, and the denial and insecurity of being in a relationship near it’s end (source: Genius). Also, Roceit vibes?
Denial by The Vaccines
Trust In Me - first of all, heck yeah! I predicted this song to be on his playlist because it's a slimy snake song from Disney? Hello this is Thomas? I think it's a great song and Johansson's voice is angelic. Kaa is manipulating and hypnotizing Mowgli, and if Deceit could do the same you can bet your bottom dollar he would sing this. We love our not-evil snake boi.
Trust In Me by Scarlett Johansson
Razzle Dazzle - Janus singing this with Roman? Yes please? Okay so I get that this is a villian song, and I love that, but imagine Deceit in a shiny sequenced dress? I also haven't seen Chicago yet so I'm going off what I've heard - this song describes how it is too easy to put on a show and make the audience happy. Basically, acting is just professional lying. The line "Though you are stiffer than a girder they'll let you get away with murder" is so clever (no spoilers but he had it coming)
Razzle Dazzle by Richard Gere
[SLIGHT HADESTOWN SPOILERS]
When The Chips Are Down - I hecking love Hadestown so you can bet I squealed when I saw this song. This song is sung by the fates, who are portrayed at untrustworthy. The title of this song is derived from the idiom “when the chips are down”, meaning “when a very serious and difficult situation arises”. Eurydice is in potentially one of the most serious and difficult situations she could be in: her life is at stake. After Hades invites Eurydice to come with him to Hadestown, the Fates appear and encourage her to consider his offer. They tell her that she should look after herself now that she is starving and the “chips are down”. (Source: Genius). In my own words, the fates are convincing (or manipulating if you will) a poor helpless girl to put herself first and save herself. It also mentions how if you be good to get into heaven,you get a knife in the back.
Go listen to Hadestown, it's an incredible soundtrack.
When The Chips Are Down by Anaïs Mitchell, The Haden Triplets
[TW! Abortion]
Mandy Goes to Med School - okay so this song is about abortion, so we'll have to go off context. Mandy (or Amanda Palmer) has to pay for Medical School by giving abortions in an alleyway with a coat hanger, so I interpret this as having to do shady stuff to get what you want. I think him and Remus would enjoy this song together. I'd also like to note that Logan had a song by Amanda Palmer in his playlist... That isn't relevant but I wanted to note that.
Mandy Goes to Med School by The Dresden Dolls
I Put A Spell On You - 50SOG vibes? I really like this song, it has a nice rhythm and the lyrics are so creepy. This gives me vibes of Deceit cornering/pining another side/love interest because if our baby boy wants to be happy, he should. This is similar to Trust In Me because it talks about enchanting someone to get what you want. "I don't care if you don't want me, I'm yours right now." Chills. Janus singing this song would complete my life.
Also the singer calls the love interest daddy but we ain't shaming
I Put A Spell On You by Nina Simone
Evil Night Together - well the title has evil in it so... Perfect for our Evil Snake Boi. This song gives me huge Demus/Receit vibes because it's basically like "let's go on a date in the creepiest place."
What if we drank a drink in the torture chambers... Haha jk ...unless 🥺
Evil Night Together by Jill Tracy
Don't Tell Mama - another musical song? Roman would be impressed. This song is about an English singer, who's mother thinks she's in a convent (a nun), when really she's in a German s3x club. You can really tell why it would be so bad if her secret got out.
Don't Tell Mama by John Kander, Joel Grey, Jill Hawarth, Cabaret Ensemble, Harold Hastings
You're A Cad - definition of a cad: a man who behaves dishonourably, especially towards a woman... This song has a nice beat and gives me TikTok vibes, but it also gives me Moceit vibes (I say vibes too much) because the singer is saying "you're a villain, a cad, a rascal... But I'm like a fish on a hook for you and I still want you." Also, she has a sweet tooth?
You're A Cad by the bird and the bee
As Far As I Can See - all aboard the angst train, CHOO-CHOO "As far as I can see, nobody loves me. As far as I can tell, nobody loves you either" this song gives me such Roceit vibes because the meaning is pretty simple: if nobody loves Janus, then he'll take everyone down with him. I knew there would be that one song that tries to make me cry for our poor baby.
As Far As I Can See by Phantogram
Criminal - first of all, the cover is beautiful. Apple describes the song as “a description of feeling bad for getting something so easily by using your sexuality.” She also told in an interview: "One of my friends said to me, “Oh yeah, of course you aren’t writing.” So I was like, “The next time you see me, I’m gonna have a new song.” I wrote “Criminal” in 45 minutes when everyone else went to lunch because I had to have a hit. I can force myself to do the work, but only if someone is right up behind me." Which is the level of pettiness I see in Deceit and I am here for it. The context of the song is seduction and manipulation, so Janus using his sexuality to manipulate the other Sides is a cursed thought.
Criminal by Fiona Apple
Change - if any of them listened to Lana Del Rey, I sort of expected it to be Virgil. Change shows how Del Rey has matured, and I feel like it also portrays Janus' ability to adapt. "Change is a powerful thing... I'll be able to be honest..." Does this mean he's trying to change? Will we get more character development? LIGHT SIDE JANUS?
Change by Lana Del Rey
Devil In The Details - this song is about trusting the wrong person and taking advantage of something. "I am the first one I deceive if I can make myself believe the rest is easy.". More angst, yay.
Devil In The Details by Bright Eyes
Come Little Children - if you had a My Little Pony phase, you probably know this song. Come Little Children, also known as "Sarah's Theme" and "Garden of Magic," is a song sung by Sarah Sanderson in the film, Hocus Pocus to hypnotize children to lure them. Manipulation: a common theme.
Come Little Children by Erutan
Into The Unknown - I was really shocked to see this song until I realized, no, it wasn't the same iconic theme from Frozen 2. This short song is from Over The Garden Wall, a show Thomas watches but I have not. "If dreams can't come true, then why not pretend?" The show plays heavily on the battle between dreams and reality (source: Genius). The way I see this, Janus is convincing the Light Sides to do something, or specifically Roman to make his dreams come true through selfish means.
Into The Unknown by The Blasting Company
This playlist is one of the best because every song had me saying “Janus would so sing this". If you have any thoughts, feel free to comment!
As always, take it easy guys gals and non-binary pals peace out
#janus sanders#side tracks#spotify#playlist#deceit#thomas sanders#sanders sides#snake#black hole sun#it seemed the better way#talking at the same time#all the good girls go to hell#billie eilish#denial#trust in me#disney#razzle dazzle#chicago#musical#hadestown#when the chips are down#mandy goes to med school#i put a spell on you#don't tell mama#cabaret#you're a cad#criminal#dukeceit#moceit#roceit
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