#austin powers x reader
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edgessunflower · 2 years ago
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Lastly, Austin Powers x femReader <3 with photobooth!!!!! We all know he loves photography lol
GROOVY BABY OUR SHAGADELIC GENTLEMAN
Groovy love
Pairing: Austin Powers x Fem reader
Description: On a day out in London together you and Austin make memories in a photobooth
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You and Austin laugh dancing to music in the street as you walk in the local mall after meeting up in town and he gave you flowers. The two go around the mall buying different things and dancing or grooving as austin says to music playing on speakers heading to the food court for lunch eating chinese then continuing your mall journey "Oh a photobooth! Let's take some very shagadelic pictures baby" you both laugh going in the photo booth taking lots of different pictures ranging from goofy, fun, serious, sexy, flirty, and loving. You hang out the rest of the day going back to his place and looking at the pictures from the booth and ones austin took mainly of you and the both of you while eating dinner and enjoying wine "Oh this one is very shagadeling dear" you look at a picture of you in a yellow sundress you bought and currently wearing in the sunlight infront of a crystal store "That is a good one" you smile as you look at the rest and finish dinner, "This is one great" you show austin a fun pic of the two of you in the photobooth with you on his back wearing his glasses as he smiles "I have to say this is my personal favorite right here" you look to see him holding a picture of the two of you in the booth with his arms wrapped around you while giving you a kiss on your cheek with you smiling and laughing "That one's really nice" you smile at each other not knowing who made the move first but you end up being in a sweet passionate kiss ending with the two of making love to each and asleep in each other arms with fond memories of a very special day.
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fqntasies · 8 months ago
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Just a taste, baby - Feyd Rautha x Reader
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summary: You and Feyd-Rautha have been connected through dreams since childhood; a complex inner-working of the Bene Gesserit mothers to join your bloodlines. It binds the two of you in a pull you can't escape (nor do you want to). Feyd is absolutely feral for you.
words: 1,258
disclaimer: characters may be out of character, specifically feyd, considering his desperate softness here. just a forewarning.
You were trapped, breaths coming out of shallow pants as you felt the scratch of the cement structure beneath your palms. He had you against the wall in a hidden alcove; along one of the lengthy corridors of the palace in Giedi Prime. Your mouths were just breaths apart. In fact the Harkonnen before you seemed intent on matching your breaths, mingling them. Tasting your tiny pants as his own. It made your eyes heavy, made you want to tilt your head back and close your eyes, give him access to the expanse of your neck.
"sweetness." He rasped, unable to control himself. The Na-Baron wrapped an arm about your waist, a vice arching you against him as he lowered a wanting mouth to your neck, licking and sucking where the two met. You mewled at the wet heat, felt him growl desperately at the taste.
The two of you hadn't even kissed yet - but the wait; the dreams - you both knew each other to the soul.
---- flashback ----------
The sands of Arakis and Geidi Prime alike carried mysteries of prophesies of the lisan-al-gaib. But midst such tales, the Bene-Geserit mothers also had worked to connect bloodlines through dreams. The Na-Baron and the princess of Arrakis had been bound by such since birth. A well-planned move to align feuds and place power into wanting hands in preparation of war. A web of politcal conspiracy only they controlled. Their plans could not be foiled.
But Feyd couldn't care less about such witchcraft; and neither, if one were honest, could you. The two of you had known of this binding since a young age. And when you had met as children too - the connection had been strong.
"Their line is bright" The reverend mother's voice had burned into your mind, even at 10 years old.
You remembered her cloaked form; a black shadow against the haze of the horizon, a tower above you as she turned from your parents. Her voice had been void of emotion, except for a smugness you didn't understand. But when you turned to glance at the older boy before you (such a uniquely beautiful boy; broad shoulders and smooth skin, black attire across a lithe form), his eyes shone with an intensity that surprised her. Dark, watching, intrigued. He intimidated you. He made you curious.
At 15 years of age, the Na-Baron hadn't spoken in their meeting; but he had felt more than he had imagined. The girl...she had made him feel things. It confused and awakened him to something he had never known. His uncle had never spoken of such a pull. A need.
When the ship had arrived to his homeworld, and the strange foreigners parted like a sea, Feyd-Rautha found himself straightening to his full height; head lowered as he studied them beneath an angled gaze. Garbs of strange colors - hair he had never seen before in elegant styles. He would be Harkonnen predator. He would be a warrior. Strike fear in these alien people, show the Baron he was not swayed so easily by something new.
But then-
Swathed in layers of white, a girl stepped forward; dainty and gracious above all else; practically floating across the landing platform. Yet her eyes betrayed her; darting to capture the landscape, thrown off perhaps by the infrared of Giedi Prime's black sun above them.
She was drinking in the strange newness before her, and then they found him. Feyd felt his chest tighten. Fists clenched. Heat brimmed under the chestplate of his armor.
She looked like some newborn animal, caught in his gaze. But they both felt it. The familiarity. The warm hum between them. It made you want to slip from the safety of your parents and stand beside him, as though his shadow was more protection than the whole parade your own family brought with them. You wondered if he'd felt the same.
Three nights later, you had dreamed of him. A bit older, hand in his as he raised it to his lips. His eyes had never left yours. As a young girl it made you blush. Now...
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You made a breathy sound as his tongue lathed the mark he had made, moving with a lazy carelessness across your pulse, hungry above all else, uncaring for decorum. He wanted to devour you entirely. He wanted you to see you helpless and delirious against him, just as you were now. As you were in all his dreams.
He knew you'd had them all too. His eyes on you at their wedding. His tongue against yours, moans and tastes and hunger. You watching from the arena as he slaughtered man after man, coated and heaving. He felt like a beast.
"Feyd-" His name barely formed, like a prayer from your lips.
His eyes nearly lolled in his head at the way you sounded, and he dragged his wanting mouth up to meet yours. Wet and wanting. Feyd's free hand shifted to engulf your slender neck, moving your head against his mouth to deepen the kiss, taste all of you. Consume.
The Na-Baron was all muscle and prowess, a looming figure that practically dwarfed you. The spanse of his shoulders alone were sinful, and deep down you loved how it felt to be completely in his grasp. Guiding you in your movements.
Feyd's tongue sought yours as much as he could, controlling and demanding - but you were a needy little thing too, weren't you? In the haze of passion you were pressing into him - leaning just as much towards his heat as he was pushing you both together. You sucked his plush bottom lip into your mouth - unable to help yourself. After all, why was he made so beautiful, if not to kiss? He was quick to follow, biting your own with a growl that made your knees practically give, and following with his greedy tongue.
"You're going to be my wife." the words are a promise, his eyes glittering under the low light; shadows flashign with the coming storm. You part your mouth as though to taste him again, a helpless 'please' slipping past as you arch in his grasp.
Feyd practically took you then and there. Enter the nearest room... make all his dreams a reality. His patience was nearly worn thin. Years of waiting, of hunger. And now it was here. You were in his reach, that tempting little waist; those hips. It made him absolutely insane.
He wets his lips, gaze feverish.
"tomorrow. tomorrow sweetness, hmm? Can wait that long?" He intends to tease you, but he knows he speaks to himself, his jaw locking as he adjusts his arms to press you against him.
You're so fucking soft. It makes him groan. Of all the things he's known in his life, softness was not one of them, save for the flashes of you in his dreams. He craved you like a creature starved. Thoughts of you made him fight better. Made him kill easier.
There's a rumble suddenly of a drone; Harkonnen orders breaking the silence in distorted code. The words don't make sense to your ears. Not yet anyway. You hope to make progress in the language, but it was a challenge; more than others. The variety of tones were a feat for any foreigner to take on; but this was to be your home. A lady of harkonnen would learn her husband's native tongue.
You know he has to leave.
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24kmar · 11 months ago
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TOOO HOLDDDD TOOO FEELLLLL TOOO BREATHHHH TOOO LOVEEE YOUUUU DANGEROUSLYYY IN LOVEEE
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beansnsoup · 1 year ago
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We should reconsider the amount of scott evil fics on this app
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pearlparty · 9 months ago
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Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss.
I support women’s rights, but most importantly I support women’s wrongs.
— THROWN TO THE WOLVES (V)
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PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE PART FOUR
PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Atreides!OC
SUMMARY — When Baron Harkonnen breaks the truce with The Atreides family, the new na-baroness is forced to choose a side.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is Paul Atreides’ half-sister. Finally something big happens in this chapter. 🤣 I have to admit, I couldn't wait to write this part... 🤭 Big thanks to all my readers – especially the ones sending sweet messages and leaving comments! 💝
WARNINGS — arranged marriage, mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut), violent behaviour, death, mentions of planned and scientifical breeding
WORD COUNT — 6,110
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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THROWN TO THE WOLVES (V)
Duke Leto was sitting in his office, trying to focus on the papers in front of him. All the important documents that required him to sign or disapprove. However, his mind was occupied with another matter.
He sighed and leaned back on the chair before laying his eyes on one of the pictures on his desk. Picture of his children from a few months back during one of the last events on Caladan.
His beloved Paul, looking shy and uncomfortable as always, trying very hard to present himself dignified. And his beloved daughter – a copy of her late mother – presenting herself very regal and confident in a natural way. Her mother had not been like that – Leto remembered her as a quiet and timid woman; a personification of delicacy. Her daughter looked like her but the Princess' strong gaze resembled his own. There was no stoicism behind the strength of her eyes, though. It was rage. She had been an innocent, sheltered Princess all her life. But there had always been that fire in her eyes. Lady Jessica had been the one to point that out one day and Leto couldn’t stop seeing that now.
Once again he found himself opening one of the drawers and re-reading the letter from Baron Harkonnen. His eyes skipped all the official parts about the alliance as he found the fragment about his daughter.
I can assure you that your daughter is behaving properly and gracing us every day with her beauty and wisdom. My nephew is mesmerised by her and he kept the new na-baroness in his chambers for two days after the wedding. She seems to be as occupied with him, therefore I would not worry about not receiving any letters from her. I do believe na-baroness is busy with her marital duties at the moment. It was very generous of you to send us such an exquisite gem in the form of your own daughter.
Duke Leto gritted his teeth. He did not believe a single word coming from Baron Harkonnen. And he hated the part about Feyd-Rautha keeping his daughter in the bedroom for two days. It was there to spite him. To let him know that his daughter had already been claimed by another man and belonged to him now.
“You’re worrying again,” Lady Jessica walked inside the office and interrupted him as he looked up to lay his eyes on her. He smiled softly at the sight of her. “She’s adapting well,” she stood behind Leto and put her hands on his shoulders. “Baron seems to be pleased.”
“I wish I could get a letter from her personally,” Leto sighed and hid the letter from the Baron. “I feel as if she resents me for sending her there.”
“She will have all the power there that she would never have here as your daughter or on her grandfather’s planet as some lord’s wife,” Lady Jessica pointed out. “That’s what she’s always wanted. Power.”
“I think you judge her too harshly sometimes,” Leto furrowed his brow.
“She is ensuring our safety,” Lady Jessica whispered. “She’s adapting well there, I just know it. And we are safe here thanks to her little sacrifice that will only give her power in the end. She is a winner, too,” she tried to convince her lover.
“She didn’t reply to my letter. Nor Paul’s,” Leto pointed out. “I can understand her deciding to discard me. But why Paul? He is her younger brother, is he not? I still remember them as children, when everything was easier. How he would run up to her, excited to play and spend time together. How she would take naps with him, holding him close when he had nightmares. How they would pick flowers together on the fields of Caladan…”
“They are not children anymore,” Lady Jessica chuckled softly. “Their childhood connection is long gone, Leto. Your love for them makes you blind but she’s been jealous of our son for a long time now. Even here,” she pointed at the picture on his desk that he had been staring at earlier, “she presents herself as if she was the future Duchess Atreides. That’s what she always wanted. So she is getting it. Only that she’s going to be Baroness Harkonnen instead.”
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Weeks passed. They were mostly boring for you but you focused on reading the most important books from the Harkonnen library. They contained information that you had never heard of while studying the Harkonnen culture before. Most of your days you spent in the relaxation area and your husband’s bed.
Your body not only grew used to his roughness but also learnt to crave it. Your mind and heart did not love him – you doubted it was even possible – but your body desired him with every fibre and every nerve. You desired him to claim you and you desired to claim him. His hunger was insatiable, so you still had to share him with his three cannibalistic pets and other whores occasionally but you were gaining more of his favours with each day.
He was nicer to you. Slightly nicer, but he did not terrify you so much anymore. However, you still didn’t have control over him. He still would back out whenever you tried to show him affection. And in order to really keep him interested in you, you had to feed his sadistic desires, too. You couldn’t be obedient and kind at all times – he needed you to act up sometimes, he needed you to show off your teeth. He needed to punish you for something and see you scared from time to time. You believed that you finally found the right pattern of how to behave around him to keep him interested in you instead of making him feel bored with the new, shiny toy.
He had a few weaknesses when it came to you. Your hair, an almost exotic symbol of beauty in the world where no one had it because of the centuries of being exposed to the poisonous atmosphere. The colour of your skin, another symbol of being an off-world prize for the brutal na-baron. Your breasts – something about them would make him softer, at least as much as it was possible for a man like him. 
Today you decided to show off what he liked the most, to make him proud in front of the guests. You were excited yourself about the very first event like this as the na-baroness of Giedi Prime. The Baron had invited many guests and friends from the many befriended planets for the feast. The reason was unknown to you but you were happy that some social responsibility would disrupt your boring daily routine.
You began to search through your wardrobe. It would be your first public appearance since Feyd’s fight in the arena.
“I wore red then so it’s out of question to wear it again,” you reminded Cara and Astra. “I don’t want to wear black today, though. I want to stand out in front of the guests from the other worlds.”
“Na-baroness, may I suggest?” Astra swallowed thickly and you nodded at her. “I think black might be a good choice, my Lady. As you mentioned, there will be guests from other worlds. They are no Harkonnen. You are, na-baroness,” she bowed her head nervously.
“Thank you, my sweet. Even if I disagreed with you, I wouldn’t punish you,” you assured her and she smiled sweetly at you. “Actually, I think you are right,” you told her and she widened her eyes, not being able to believe that her opinion mattered. “I think black is a good choice. I don’t want to present myself as a tormented Princess Atreides. I want to present myself as a Harkonnen to these people. I don’t want them to pity me.”
Cara approached the wardrobe, encouraged by Astra’s little success. She dared to suggest one of the dresses. It was made of black, shiny and elastic material you had never seen before.
“What is it made of?” You asked her.
“Latex, my Lady.”
“What is latex?” You were not sure as you touched the dress. It didn’t feel very pleasant.
“Just try it on, may I suggest? It looks better on a person, na-baroness,” Cara tried to convince you and you agreed because you were curious about that odd thing.
You couldn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. What it did to your breasts was unbelievable. It was tight, it was shiny, it was sexual. The inside of it was covered with a thin layer of silk so it didn’t feel uncomfortable on your body at all.
“This is it,” you nodded with a smile and brushed your hair with your fingers. You were tempted to let it loose again. “And a headpiece,” you decided.
It was not common for The Harkonnen noble women to wear diadems or headpieces because they did not look as regal on bald heads and they were easy to slip off. Therefore, you had not been given any after the wedding because they simply were not a part of the family collection. However, there was one that you had brought with you from Caladan. It had originally been golden but you had ordered the jeweller at the fortress to change its appearance a few days earlier, when you had found out about the upcoming feast.
Cara and Astra approached your vanity to take it out and place it on your head before securing it from falling off. It was now black and had small chains dangling off of it, forming a metallic veil that covered your face – enough to make you look mysterious but not enough to make you look like a Bene Gesserit witch.
The doors leading to Feyd’s bedroom opened rapidly. Astra and Cara got startled but you were used to him interrupting your peace in the most unexpected ways. He was not the type to knock. Not that you knocked before walking into his bedroom either. But he had the comfort of being able to lock his side of the door and you did not have that privilege.
“My Lord,” your girls bowed down and took a few steps back from you.
You laid your eyes on him. He was wearing his usual official attire, the leather uniform, similar to the one he had worn at your wedding.
He smirked at the sight of you but you could not tell if it was because he found you attractive or was it dictated by his contempt towards your choice. Perhaps both.
“I wanted to inspect your choice of outfit. You see, when we are presenting ourselves to our allies from the other worlds, we need to keep up appearances. I can’t let you pull off any stunts like you did in the arena,” he licked his lips and approached you.
“I would have pulled off a stunt if I had worn that garbage you wanted me to put on,” you reminded him. “I gave your people the na-baroness they expected.”
“And now you’re giving our allies the whore? Interesting.” He teased and you furrowed your brows. His words had disappointed and hurt you.
“I can change, my Lord,” you looked down, trying to see if it would soften him.
“No, keep it,” he ordered and raised your chin with his finger to make you look into his eyes. His pupils were darkened already.
He was impossible, you thought. Already turned on. Like an undomesticated animal.
“I understand that you want your allies to see that you turned Princess Atreides into your whore. But that was not my wish…” You explained truthfully.
“No? And what was that?” He cooed ironically and you knew that your genuine answer would only make him laugh.
“I wanted to present myself as a Harkonnen,” you answered genuinely.
Indeed, he laughed at you.
“You…” he hissed as he approached you. You held your breath when his face was a few inches away from yours. “...will never be a Harkonnen,” he stated with all the intensity. “You might get used to see me slitting throats, you might play your little games and you might enjoy it when I fuck you like a whore but you will always have that rabbit heart of yours. You’re weak,” he pointed out.
Keeping your poker face on was extremely difficult. You wanted to kill him at that moment. And he might have been one of the best warriors in the whole galaxy but your anger almost convinced you that your rage was enough to actually strangle him to death.
However, you had to remain cold and unbothered. You had always known that your game with him would not only be full of victories but also full of little defeats like this one.
Suddenly, his face softened as he took a step back and cupped your face.
“I want you to wear it. I want them to see what only I can fuck,” he leaned in to place a possessive kiss on your lips.
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Feyd was keeping you close, with his hand on your waist at all times. You were practically forced to cling to him as he was showing you off like a trophy. Whenever some noble couple from another planet approached you to greet you, they were eyeing you up and down with a mix of emotions you could spot on their faces. Surprise and fear dominated. There was pity, too, but you didn’t allow it to bother you. You only hated that you presented yourself more as your husband’s pet than the dignified na-baroness.
At some point you leaned into him and put one of your hands on his chest. He stiffened at that movement but couldn’t push you away in front of all these people. However, that simple movement allowed you to switch the dynamic a little. Not only were you his but he was also yours.
“(Y/N)...” Someone’s familiar voice made you turn around in disbelief. 
“Grandpa…?” You gasped at the sight of him.
You had only seen your mother’s family twice in your life. They had visited Caladan when you were a child for a few days. And once you had spent a few weeks there in the summer at the age of fifteen. Most of your relationship relied on correspondence but it was not very frequent either. Your grandfather was a Marquis ruling the whole planet and his duties were many. Exchanging letters with his granddaughter was not the most important one of them, sadly.
“What are you doing here?” You couldn’t hide your excitement although you gave a woman next to him an unpleasant look. She was not your grandmother. She was the local Bene Gesserit that had been watching you sometimes whenever you ran into her on the corridor.
“I was invited by the Baron, naturally,” he extended his hands to hold yours and you allowed him. “He is my friend, after all.”
“I did not know the friendship was so close,” you admitted.
“Not many people were allowed to know,” he smiled at you and then he nodded his head at your husband. “Na-baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. I do believe you treat my granddaughter kindly,” he let go of your hands and Feyd brought you closer to him possessively once again.
“You ask her, my Lord,” Feyd’s fingers pinched your side as your grandfather’s eyes laid on you.
What were you even supposed to say?
“Feyd-Rautha is the best husband I could ask for,” you nodded as the disgusting lies spilled out of your mouth like it was honey. Your grandfather smiled at that. “He is the bravest and the most skilled warrior I have ever known,” you added. “There is not a day I do not feel honoured.”
“This makes me happy,” your grandfather looked very content indeed.
“Where is grandmother? Is she alright?” You asked, worryingly.
“She does not like long trips. Forgive me, I believe I am being called,” your grandfather nodded and walked away. The Bene Gesserit followed and you watched them approaching the Baron.
“I want to spend more time with him…” You looked at Feyd but his face was unreadable. “Can I?” You pleaded.
“He is busy now, can’t you see, pet? Don’t be too greedy and impatient,” he scolded you as if you were a child.
“But later. Oh, please,” you hated to show desperation in your voice but you were so happy to see someone familiar, some member of your family, someone who would hug you and comfort you… Someone who would promise you that you were safe.
“Later,” he nodded and you sighed out of relief. So much joy had suddenly filled your heart that you wanted to kiss his cheek but you knew he would get angry.
On the other hand, he wouldn’t cause a scene in front of all these people.
You moved even closer to him as if you tried to wrap around his body like a snake. His muscles stiffened under his uniform and then you pecked his cheek delicately with your lips.
Oh, the look he gave you was deadly. But he didn’t do anything.
“Behave or I’ll tell the guards to take you back to your room,” he threatened.
And all the joy that had filled your heart, disappeared in an instant.
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The feast didn’t take long. You expected it to take the whole night but at midnight you were already in your black nightgown, laying on Feyd’s bed and watching him take off his uniform. He was oddly slow with it as if he didn’t feel like fucking you at all on that night.
“Are you coming or not?” You whined.
You hated to admit it, but you really were impatient for his touch.
“Waiting like that is part of having fun, my pet,” he chuckled and looked at the door leading out of his bedroom.
He was checking them all the time that night and you furrowed your brow. He was acting differently and it was making you feel anxious.
“Being edged is no fun to me, Feyd. When I want something, I want it now,” you crawled up closer to the bed’s edge, trying to play it cool and not show your nervousness.
“Edged, huh?” He smirked at you. “You know what it’s called?”
“I don’t only read history books, you know…”
“Enough,” he cut you off by cupping your cheeks with one of his hands. “You talk too much, pet.”
You could only communicate with your eyes now, so you tried to give him a doe-eyed look but the doors to his bedroom opened rapidly at that moment and you saw a bunch of guards storming inside.
“It’s time, my Lord,” one of them nodded his head and Feyd grabbed your wrists to drag you out of the bed.
“What… What are you doing? What is going on?” You asked, both surprised and terrified. Had you done something wrong…? Had you angered him somehow…? How…? By doing what…? You panicked.
Now it made sense why he had been undressing so slow. He was still dressed and ready for whatever would happen now. But you were in nothing but your nightgown, thrown at the guards who grabbed your limbs as you kicked and screamed.
They dragged you out of the bedroom as Feyd followed. At some point you yelled for help so loud that it surprised your own self how loud you could be. Feyd approached you and the guards stopped.
“Shut up,” he slapped your face, “and cooperate,” he added sternly. There was something in his eyes that was surprisingly not harsh or terrifying. Almost as if he was on your side.
You swallowed thickly and nodded your head, deciding to… trust him? Well, whether you liked it or not, he was the only Harkonnen person you could trust. The only person you had on that planet.
And perhaps the only person you had in the whole world. Your family had gotten rid of you. Your grandfather hadn’t looked very interested to spend time with you during that feast despite you trying to approach him on multiple occasions.
The guards took you to the throne room and your eyes widened at the sight of your grandfather standing next to the Baron. Count Rabban and the Bene Gesserit woman were there as well. The guards threw you on the floor and left the room. Feyd stood behind you with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Baron Harkonnen… Grandfather… What is going on…?” You looked at them and then you focused on your grandfather as he was the only person you loved in that whole room and the only one who shared his blood with yours. Even if his presence in this room and the fact he participated in this whole thing made your heart sink deep in your chest.
“You will spend this night in the cell, na-baroness,” Baron Harkonnen announced. For the first time he addressed you properly, probably because of your grandfather’s presence.
“Wh-what? Why?!” You stood up clumsily and looked angrily at your husband. “Feyd?” You asked him but he remained silent. You looked back at his uncle. “What have I done wrong, my Lord? Have I done something? Have I angered you? Disobeyed?” You nearly begged to find out because you genuinely did not know.
“Nothing that I know of,” Baron chuckled and you took a deep breath in to calm yourself down a little. He didn’t look angry at you, which was a good sign. “You will be kept there until you calm yourself down so you don’t act up too much in the upcoming days,” he mysteriously explained.
“Why would I…, my Lord?” You furrowed your brow since you couldn’t think of anything special coming in the upcoming days. Feyd would have another fight in the arena in two weeks but he surely hadn’t meant that. Especially that you had behaved well during the last one.
“Count Rabban and I are leaving for Arrakis tonight,” Baron’s words were slow as he was observing your reaction to each one of them. “To take over the spice production and kill your family.”
Before your mind processed his words, your body already tensed and nearly jumped in his direction aggressively but it was Feyd who held you from behind in his strong grip.
Once again, you had no idea if he was there to protect his uncle or to protect you.
“I don’t understand,” you looked at your grandfather, confused. You let Feyd hold you in place because the confusion and the betrayal that you felt were still not stronger than your will to survive.
You had to play this one right. Perhaps that was your most important trail in front of the Harkonnens.
Your grandfather looked at the Baron with a nice smile. The same he had been giving you earlier. You suddenly realised it was not genuinely kind; it was filled with poison and forgery.
“Let me explain to my granddaughter. I do believe we owe her that at least, Vladimir.”
Vladimir. He had addressed him by his first name…? You began to breathe heavily, like a wild animal preparing to attack.
“Shh, my pet,” Feyd whispered into your ear as he pressed his face into the back of your head. “Behave,” he reminded you.
“Go on, my friend,” Baron smirked and your grandfather started approaching you.
“What about an alliance with my father?” You asked him. “I am here to ensure the alliance between the two houses.”
“No, my beloved granddaughter, you are here for your safety,” your grandfather faced you and laid his hand to caress your cheek. “You look exactly like her…” His eyes softened a little. “My beloved daughter,” he whispered and then his face got serious again. “We have known about the plan to get rid of the Atreides family for a long time now. We could not let our sweet granddaughter be slaughtered alongside them all.”
“If you wanted to keep me safe, you could have just asked my father to send me to you sooner instead of allowing him to send me here,” you drawled out. You hated him now. He was a snake. Yet another person who had stood behind the whole scheming which resulted in you being on Giedi Prime.
It hurt. As much as you hated to admit that you still had feelings and you still had a heart that was able to be broken… it hurt. You had discarded the Atreides family but you still treated your mother’s family as your friends. As people who cared about you, who loved you, who would intervene if The Harkonnens would seriously hurt you one day.
But now you realised that you had known nothing about them and everything you had believed them to be was nothing but an illusion; a romanticised image you had created in your head to cope with the fact you would never fit in with the rest of the Atreides. Your mother’s family had always been an opposite in your head – they would love you, they would adore you, they would always be nice and kind, they would treat you equally.
It had been childish to think this way.
“I could have done that, yes… But we saw the opportunity for you on Giedi Prime. There has never been a woman from our family marrying into a family so important and so rich. Your aunt convinced the other Bene Gesserit sisters to allow this union. Your bloodline was satisfyingly enough for Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen…”
“My aunt?” You interrupted him. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, don’t you know? Your mother’s sister is a powerful Bene Gesserit,” he explained, surprised. “I thought Lady Jessica would tell you.”
“We barely talked,” you spat out.
All your life you hated women like Lady Jessica. You hated the Bene Gesserit because you hated her. And now… another disappointment. Your own aunt was one of them. And she had been the one to seal your fate when it came to selling you out to these monsters.
“But I know enough about her,” you continued. “I know she wouldn’t be so stupid to let this happen. Lady Jessica would know your agenda.”
“Perhaps,” your grandfather nodded. “She is powerful. But even powerful people make mistakes. Lady Jessica was so desperate to get rid of you that she saw her own opportunity in it. She was desperate for you to disappear because you were growing too envious of your brother and too power hungry for her liking,” he told you and you clenched your jaw.
You felt Feyd moving slightly behind you. His grip loosened slightly.
“My pet…?” He smirked into your ear. He didn’t expect you to have it in you. The hunger for power. The hatred for your own brother. Those were the things he would never accuse you of. In his eyes, you had been nothing but a spoiled, innocent Princess before coming to Giedi Prime. Sheltered in a big castle and showing off her dresses all day long.
“So… Lady Jessica got betrayed?” You asked your grandfather and he nodded.
“She is playing her own dangerous game by trying to change the prophecy. The other Bene Gesserit were happy to get rid of her. She will be slain tonight alongside your father and their son,” he explained and walked away to stand next to the Baron again.
“Is she my aunt?” You looked at the Bene Gesserit standing next to them.
“No, she is the local one. A close friend,” your grandfather explained and she nodded at you. “She’s been watching over you.”
“It is time for us,” Baron pointed out and you watched him float away with all the machinery keeping him alive. Count Rabban followed him.
You didn’t know what to feel. You were conflicted in every possible way. But you knew there was no way of saving your family no matter what you’d do. It would only kill you, too, if you tried to intervene or beg for their lives. You had to think of your own life now. 
“Count Rabban!” You yelled after him angrily and Feyd’s muscles tensed once again as his grip tightened. He hissed at you but you did not care. His brother turned around to look at you. “Make sure to get them all!”
He froze for a moment, visibly surprised.
“My Lady,” he nodded and walked away after his uncle.
The guards walked inside a moment later and Feyd allowed them to take you from his arms.
They dragged you to the same cell that you had slept in before your wedding. When the doors got locked and you were left alone in the darkness, that was when you finally realised what was happening. Your body started to tremble and shake uncontrollably. You curled up on the bed and sobbed quietly.
As much as you hated your family for discarding you, as much as you hated your father for choosing Paul over you, as much as you hated Lady Jessica’s mending, as much as you hated Paul for simply existing… You never wished death upon them. Not even her.
You remembered being a little girl and playing with Paul. You remembered his curly hair in the sun, his laughter as he was hugging you, his small hands when he was handing you picked up flowers.
You remembered waking up in the middle of the night, crying after a nightmare. It was Lady Jessica joining you in bed, letting you cuddle her as she would tell you stories. You remembered her laughter during the rare occasions when you all had acted like a family. As a little girl, you had adored watching her getting dressed. She would allow you to try on her outfits and brush her hair.
And your father… He had always been trying to love you. He had always been trying to show you affection. He would sit you on his lap as he filed the paperwork. He would take you on his ship to show off what a skilled pilot he was. He would forgive you every outburst of anger, every whine and eye-roll of a spoiled Princess.
You never wished death upon them. Perhaps all you had ever wanted was for them to love you.
And now you couldn’t even openly grieve after them. You couldn’t let anyone see your hurt. Especially not Feyd. A murderer of his own mother would not understand your pain after your family’s death. You had to be a Harkonnen about it. No more rabbit heart. No more weakness.
You sniffed and hugged your own self with your hands. You thought to yourself that if you were to survive this night, you would survive everything.
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The cell had no windows. You didn’t know what hour it was when you woke up. You went to the small bathroom attached to the room and took a quick shower before seeing yourself in the mirror.
Something had died in your eyes the previous night. You were an orphan now. You had no home. No mother, no father, no brother.
You almost threw up from this feeling but you managed to keep it all inside.
“You’re a Harkonnen now, you’re a Harkonnen,” you kept repeating as your fists clenched on the sides of the sink. “You’re a Harkonnen.”
You heard the door of the cell opening and you walked out of the bathroom to face Feyd-Rautha.
“You’re free to go,” he said, casually.
“So fast?” You asked, surprised. “Your uncle mentioned I’d spend a few days here at least.”
“He’s on Arrakis. I am in charge when he’s gone and I say you’re free to go. Unless you want to rot here,” he looked at your face as his eyes squinted. He was observing every single thing about you to see your reaction.
You decided to give him none.
You just walked out of the cell and he followed you.
“So… I’m free to go back to my room now?” You asked him and he nodded.
“I was thinking of showing you something, though,” he proposed and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Follow me,” he ordered and you nodded, curious to find out what he had possibly meant.
He led you to the throne room, which was completely empty.
“What are we doing here?” You asked but he beckoned you over to follow him with his hand. So you did and you ended up standing in front of the huge throne that belonged to his uncle.
Feyd sat on it lazily with his legs spread open in an almost vulgar manner.
“Is that what you wanted to show me?” You mocked him. “That you’re in charge now?”
“Come here,” he drawled out and you sat across his lap. Between your legs, you felt a bulge in his pants. You smirked at him.
To be honest, it was turning you on, too, to sit on that throne like that. If only the Baron could see you…
A few hours earlier you had been laying on the cold marble floor in the middle of that room, completely at his mercy. And now you were sitting on his throne, about to perform a blasphemous act, showing how little respect you had for him and his power.
“Take it off,” Feyd ordered as he tugged on the hem of your nightgown. You nodded and started to get rid of it. “Slowly,” he commanded and you obeyed.
Finally, you threw the nightgown away and allowed your hands to clasp behind his neck. He looked at you angrily but this time it did not make you move away. You weren’t scared of him anymore. You were a Harkonnen, too.
“Doesn’t it feel nice?” You whispered as you leaned in closer to his face. “To sit here?” You teased him as his hands began to grope your body as if it was a sculpture for him to admire but he was only a barbarian with no knowledge about the beauty of art. “Doesn’t it feel nice, my Baron?” You whispered into his ear and bit him slightly on the neck.
“You have to be patient, pet,” he finally spoke up. Feyd-Rautha was not stupid – sadly, because it would make life easier for you. He knew very well what you tried to achieve when you were calling him a Baron. He knew what you wanted him to do.
“Haven’t I told you…? When I want something, I want it now,” you reminded him and you joined your lips with his to give him that possessive kiss that he would so often give you. Everything you knew about these things, you had learnt from him after all.
Even if he was slightly surprised by your behaviour, he was trying not to show it. But there was some confusion in his bright eyes that was making you smirk.
“You have to be patient, my darling,” he raised one of his hands to trace your pouting lips with his finger. You gave it a little bite and giggled.
“Why?” You asked.
“It is not the right time yet... But it will be soon,” he hesitated for a moment, “Baroness.”
You gasped at that word leaving his heathen mouth. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen called you a baroness and there was no hint of irony in his voice. His body trembled out of desire and yours felt as if it was on fire.
“Good boy,” you breathed out. “I will wait then,” you promised him, carefully watching his reaction. He was too turned on and too needy to get angry now. He’d let you say and do anything but he wouldn’t push you away. He needed to feel your body on his. “I want you to fuck me here, my Baron,” you writhed on his lap impatiently.
“And I will,” he brought you even closer to his body as if it was possible. His clothes were rough on your naked body but you did not mind. In fact, it was pleasurable. “The medic told me this morning that it’s time to breed you, my darling pet,” he told you and you swore, you had never seen his pupils so dark.
Your head became dizzy at the realisation that there was a possibility of conceiving your heir on the Baron’s throne. It would be the most delicious mockery performed towards him that you could think of.
You were so excited that at that moment you completely forgot that your family had been most likely dead now while the Harkonnen soldiers were taking over Arrakis and burning the Atreides flags.
But why would you think of that? You were a Harkonnen.
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MASTERLIST
2K notes · View notes
gutsby · 12 days ago
Text
Wants and Needs
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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
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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.
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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.
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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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taeslarityy · 4 months ago
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outage ༄ joel miller one shot (18+)
-> pairing: no-outbreak joel miller au x female curvy reader
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-> word count: 4.3k
-> summary: after a citywide power outage, you're left to deal with the scorching texas heat. until, the well-respected neighborhood dilf — joel miller — lends you a more than generous hand.
-> warnings/tags: sarah is 10/11 so joel had her a bit older, power outage, texas heat, yes this is a warning because its not a joke, reader has a cat!!!, age gap (reader is 24, joel is late 40s), curvy/mid/plus size reader, brief fatphobia, reader has self-image/parent issues + is a lonely gal, fluff, SMUT (18+), unprotected piv, creampie, oral + fingering (f!recieving), squirting, body worship, brief ass play, daddy kink, big ole tits, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, a bit of belly bulge, cockwarming, pet names galore (darlin, sweetheart, baby, _ girl), joel has a huge dick (not canon!)
-> a/n: hi hi! i have been so anxious to begin writing again and currently have some wips that i am just not confident with. so when i saw the lovely @hellishjoel post her #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i was positive i wanted to join in! such a pleasure to be involved in this — thank you kylee for creating such a fun way for this community to get involved! as a curvier woman, i wanted reader to reflect that. because... joel miller is a handsy mf and loves to just grab himself some wide hips, thick thighs and phat tits <3 but ofc, this is can be for various body types. please please please, leave your thoughts and even constructive criticism! <3 DILF NEIGHBOR JOEL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!
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You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 
You release a groan of annoyance as the visual of your TV, coffee table lamp and humming of the refrigerator all flicker off into silence. The frills on your throw-blanket settle, as the ceiling fan no longer produces the small gusts of wind that have caused you to be rather chilly on this hot, humid and rainy summer night. 
When you made the courageous decision of moving across the country for a new teaching opportunity in Austin — you were never informed on the true brutality summertime unleashed onto Texas residents. More-so, you really had nothing to do but be caged up in the comfortable AC of your home. You’ve been here for roughly 14 months and the only "friends" you’ve made have been the 28 fourth graders you had the pleasure of teaching last school year. Tragic. 
Your coworkers, did not handle your arrival pleasantly. Young, beautiful, freshly-educated and determined. That’s what your grandmother referred to you as when you called her sobbing after your first week. Informing her that the seasoned teachers won’t even bat an eye at you, and when they do it’s a look of disgust. Whispering amongst one another. Like you were in middle school again, trying to befriend the popular girls. 
“I was foolish to think things could be different for me down here, so stupid of me.”
“Now listen to me, you are the most intelligent woman I know. More than anyone in this family. Bullies like that, it stems from an unknown jealousy and overbearing insecurity. Don’t let a few sour grapes ruin this outstanding career for you. Your students adore you already, and so do I. Just continue to be yourself and if that isn’t enough for them, so be it.”
Your grandmother always knew how to make you feel better. She had been instilling your own sense of confidence since you were a little girl. The only adult in your life to do so. If only her words were enough. Your coworkers just never let up. After overhearing them gossip about you during lunch break, you gave up your attempts indefinitely. 
“She really thinks she deserves a place here?”
“Look at her back rolls in that shirt…”
“She really needs to put that sandwich down.”
“Why is she so quiet? It’s freaky, honestly. No wonder she’s always alone.”
You’re not a stranger to being alone. You practically have been your entire life. Your parents never really bothered to form a genuine relationship with you, always so focused on your younger sister. She was the prettier, thinner, more impressive version of you. You have only had one best friend throughout your long 24 years on this earth. She was smarter than you and moved away from the timid small town you shared in Northern Maine, choosing an out-of-state university. So, being alone was a familiarity. You have made peace with it. But being lonely — that’s a whole other ball-park. 
The booming thwack of thunder startles you from your thoughts. Your sweet calico boy leaps from your warm lap and scurries under the dining table — tail puffed in fear. “Milo... it’s okay,” you whisper. He just gleams at you with his jet-black saucer eyes. Even you don’t believe your own words. You are not used to storms like this, and you didn’t really prepare. You read some articles online about stocking up: having plently of batteries, candles, non-perishable foods. Yet, you didn’t do any of that. 
Rubbing away the moisture from your damp upper lip — the heat inside your home already becoming unbearable. Deciding on a whim, you can head to a nearby hotel for the night. Unsure how long you will be without power and don’t wish to succumb yourself or your cat to the searing temperatures of the night. 
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The rain has slowed down, as you feel the soft patter on your umbrella. Throwing your purse and water bottle in the front seat, you begin to dread unpacking all this stuff when you get to the hotel. Bags, cat litter, cage — scrutinizing yourself mentally and deciding you better fucking prepare for the next storm. 
“Where ya headin’ sweetheart?”
Your heart jumps at the deep smooth Southern voice that fills your thoughts at night. When your hands would find their way in between your quivering legs. Throughout the day. Pretty much all the time.
Joel Miller is the only person in this town that has ever filled the lonely void you can never seem to fill. When you moved to the quiet suburban street, he was the first to come greet you as you struggled to pull your mattress out of the U-Haul. Immediately lending a hand, and proceeding to lug all of your remaining boxes, furniture, miscellaneous items into your new home. 
“Pretty lady like you, shouldn’t have to lift a single finger.” He remarked when you you blushed and assured him you could handle the rest, not wanting to be a burden. Even though the sweat dripping down your back was apparent and 5 minutes prior you had no idea how you’d be able to unpack the remainder of the truck. He then assured you — there was no way in hell you were being a burden. Words that were a rarity. 
Later that afternoon, he invited you for dinner at his home. You met his lovely daughter, Sarah. Where everyone learned that you were her new school teacher. What were the odds? 
Following that, seeing Joel was frequent. From parent-teacher conferences, backyard barbecues for the neighborhood, or even small intimate dinners with Sarah at each others homes. Sarah would even spend the night at yours on occasion. When Joel had a late night at the construction site, or when she just needed some girl time. You adored that little girl, and vice versa. 
You also adored the fuck out of Joel. 
So when you looked up at his porch, finding him in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants.. your throat went dry. His tanned skin gleamed softly from the street light — little speckled freckles adorned his waist in various spots. And that darkish grey hair on his chest and fat of his lower tummy that flowed underneath his pants. Your brain fuzzy at the thought of your face pressed against it as you swallow his cock. 
But you were not a fool. Joel would never express an attraction towards you. A man like that? He deserved the perfect woman. 
“Darlin’?” He speaks again, a bit louder. Disturbing your wandering thoughts. 
“I- I was gonna head to a hotel for the night, my house is too hot already. And I don’t want Milo to be uncomfortable.” 
Joel’s eyes wander down your body as you explain — the plush jiggle of your tits in that small tank. Nearly spilling out. Slightly damp from the rain or humidity. The chub of your tummy spills slightly from your leggings. A sight that makes his cock swell unbearingly. An act that occurs more often than not when he sees you or even thinks of you for the countless minutes of his day. 
“No way. Not gonna let ya drive in this weather. Plus, most hotels nearby are gonna be overbooked. I got the generator up n’ working, got the spare room too. Your stayin’ over.” 
“No! No, Joel. I can’t.”
“N’ why not?” His hands have found his way to his hips, popping a knee out and giving you that classic dad glare. Not angry, but confused as to why you’re even protesting when he’s already decided. 
“I don’t want to intrude and I have Milo. You and Sarah are allergic.”
“Sarah left yesterday to stay with her mom in California for the rest of the summer. Besides, Milo loves me. I can handle a runny nose as long as I know the two of ya are safe.” 
To this, your stomach nearly flips inward on itself. You’ve never been alone with Joel in his home. Not for this long. The few times you’ve come over to help him with dinner before Sarah got home from soccer practice, have always been excruciating. Staring at him without worry. Watching his muscles flex through his t-shirts. Big hands chopping vegetables and plating food. His hand lightly touching your waist when scooting by. 
There’s no possible way you can survive a night in Joel’s home. 
But, he’s already grabbing his umbrella and walking over to you. He grabs your stuff from the car and tells you to go grab Milo. So, you do.
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Joel slips on a t-shirt after he put your stuff in the spare room, disappointedly enough. You nearly told him to keep it off, but held your tongue. You made yourself comfortable at the island barstool as you typed up some early lesson plans, Milo at your feet. 
He patters over to Joel who is now leaning against the counter, brushing against his leg. He then leaps onto the granite and purrs against Joel’s arm. 
“Psst! Milo get do-“ you beg, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. 
“S’ okay, sweetheart. He’s not botherin’ me,” Joel attempts to settle your nerves. Petting Milo’s soft fur and scratching under his chin, that special spot all cats love. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?” He nods towards the coffee he’s brewing. 
“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” You beam at him. Joel’s heart skips a beat every time your cheeks puff up ever so slightly when you smile at him. It’s something he swears is the most endearing thing about you. Of course, he’s only ever shared that with his daughter. Who begs her father to just take her favorite teacher on a date already. 
Joel grabs some sugar and oat milk from the fridge, your favorite. He learned from the few breakfasts you guys had shared. A bit of sugar and a nice gulp of milk softens the dark roast color in the mug, he slides it over to you as he grabs his plain black coffee. 
“You remembered!” You giggle slightly at the Number 1 Dad title that adorns the mug, taking a sip. You moan at the taste, exactly how you like it. 
“Of course I did, darlin’.” You almost hate how easily those pet names roll of his tongue. You summed it up as his southern hospitality, figured he calls any woman those special names. “So, you ready for this new school year?”
An icky feeling settles in your stomach. The thought of returning to the painful and toxic work environment you can only escape when you’re with your students.
“Not without my Sarah girl,” you swiftly change the subject towards the one person he can talk hours about.
He smiles proudly at her name. 
“Ya know, she still all mad that you wouldn’t flunk her so she could have another year with ya.” Both your laughs quickly fill the empty house. 
“Well, even if I tried to, that girl is too smart for her own good. She should skip a grade in my opinion.” You state, and you’re truthful at that. Sarah Miller is as intelligent as she is quick-witted. 
“Yeah, she gets it from me.” At that you roll your eyes playfully. Typing something up before closing your computer and taking another sip of coffee. “Although I love boastin’ over her, I guess I meant are you excited to go back? They treat ya good there?” 
Joel watches the color drain from your soft skin. Realizing he touched somewhere that might be too personal. Too raw. “M’ sorry sweetheart, shouldn’t have asked.”
“No- no uh, you’re fine. Um, honestly? No. I’m not excited. The staff there aren’t exactly the kindest bunch.” You confess, slight unease crawling over you. 
Joel’s eyes scrunch in confusion. Mind blank on how the kindest soul he knows, could be surrounded by complete opposite. “Whatcha mean?”
You sigh letting the anxiousness settle a bit before speaking again, “they hate me. I don’t even know why, really? I have tried my hardest to get them to accept me but nothing seems to work. Whether it’s jabs at my appearance, teaching style, they’re never satisfied.” Your eyes are burning slightly, haven’t confessed this burden you constantly carry to anyone. “If it wasn’t for your daughter and my class, and… you.. well, I think I wouldn’t have made it through. I try to be strong, I try to be everything that people expect from me but it’s just so hard, Joel.” At that, the fat tears begin to stream down your face.
Joel was frozen in shock. Or maybe anger. Protectiveness. He wanted to hurt the people who made you feel like this. The least deserving of any pain. He sets his mug down and snatches you in his embrace. Holding your head with his hand, stroking your back with the other. He lets you sob almost uncontrollably into his firm chest. 
“I just hate being so alone.” You whisper, clutching onto him. You can’t even be embarrassed anymore, you’re so overthrown by his scent, his comfort. Comfort you’ve not felt in so so long. 
Joel kisses your temple softly, "promise you're not alone, sweet girl." He nudges your head to look up at his own sorrowful expression. His thumb running over your full lips, a bit swollen from your teeth biting down on them in an attempt to muffle your sobs. "So beautiful." He murmurs as he leans down to place a kiss on your left cheek, his lips skim over yours before he places another on your right.
Joel just barely hears the whimper from the back of your throat when that feather light skim happened. He leans back half an inch, staring into your glossy eyes. "Tell me not to, and I'll let you go upstairs and get some rest. Tell me, sweetheart."
It feels like a whole minute passes by. The soft patter of the rain, the smell of coffee beans from each others breath, the same slow breathing that overwhelms the little space between you both.
Desperation.
Your fingers tighten on his shirt, "don't let me go upstairs, Joel."
Joel smashes his mouth into yours, his guttural groan flying into your soft whimpers. The softness Joel expressed a moment ago is long gone. This kiss is messy, teeth-clanking, tongue inside your mouth. Like he wants to devour you from the outside in. He releases your lip with a pop.
He threads his thick fingers through the base of your hair and yanks it back gently, tongue on your neck. Biting the skin there. "You're so soft, baby. Just need me to mark ya up, is that right?"
You nod as hard as you can despite his harsh grip on your locks.
"I need you to use your words, sweet girl. Let me know what you're thinkin'."
"Everything you do is okay. I want more. I need it all. Please."
"Oh baby, cm'ere," he wraps your lavish thighs around his waist and hoists you into his arms. Easily. Like you're just the most delicate thing he's ever held.
As he walks to his bedroom, you smile into his neck. Arms wrapped over his shoulders, hand rubbing ever so softly at his greying curls. You bite at the skin under his ear and he gives your ass a huge squeeze. Groaning at how his big hands barely hold all the meat there. He couldn't wait to touch and gnaw at this body he loved.
At the foot of his bed, he taps your leg as if telling you to get down. You stand in front of his massive overbearing figure, staring up at him lustfully. You grab the bottom of your compression tank top and pull it over your head, revealing your unsupported chest. Your heavy tits fall a bit.
"My god," Joel falls to his knees in front of you, face nearly level with your pebbled nipples. Both his hands grab a fistful of each, rolling them in his palm. Your sweet noises fill the room and he swears he might've just came in his pajama pants right there. He takes his teeth and bite at the fat above your leggings, licking and sucking at a sensitive part of you. Literally and figuratively.
Joel abandons your chest to yank your leggings and panties down in one move, coming face-to-face with your prickly oozing pussy. He can't restrain himself much longer, spinning you around he pushes you down into his mattress.
He spreads your ass open with both hands, the chub of your lips open ever so slightly as the slick between them strings together.
"Perfect cunt." That's when you feel the chill of liquid spat right onto your puckered hole, dripping down to your clit. He leans in, tongue catching the tangy mixture of your slick and his saliva, right on your throbbing clit.
You screech into the sheets, so turned on from his actions. As he licks up to dip his tongue into your hole, one hand that's holding you open sneaks up your back, to your neck and yanks your head up.
"Nu-uh, let me hear you, baby girl." He demands as he pauses to throw his shirt off as fast as possible — not wanting to leave your cunt for too long without the warmth of his mouth.
He sloppily makes out with your cunt as it clenches and unclenches under his tongue, his beard prickling at your skin. Like he wants your scent all over him for as long as possible.
"Ohh daddy, more more," you whisper hazily, hand reaching back to grab his head desperate to have him as deep as possible.
Joel stops as he processes your choice of title. "What was that, darlin'?"
You freeze at his serious tone. Just now realizing what you've called the man. "Oh my god, I'm s-" Joel grabs your wrist and pins it against your lower back — thick middle and ring finger hooking into you with no warning. Your wetness aiding in the rapid slide of them.
He spits on your puckered hole again and abandons your wrist to land a harsh smack against your ass.
"Only dirty girls say that word, baby. Are you daddy's dirty girl?" He edges you on as he spanks you again on the opposite side. Hard. Unsparing. A side of Joel you've never seen. And oh, does it make you feel that coil tightening within you.
"Mmmm yes yes 'm your dirty girl, daddy!" You groan loudly, eyes swelling with fresh tears. But not tears of pain from earlier, pleasure.
Joel's fingers fuck into you harder, thumb now rubbing at your clit as he leans forward to prod his tongue at your asshole. "Cum for me, my nasty sweet girl. Drench my face. Let me taste you even more." He halts his fingers knuckle deep, hooked inside your cunt as he presses into that spot on repeat. Like he's stroking it out of you.
That's all it takes for you to silently scream as you squirt all over his lower beard covered face and your thick inner thighs, that nearly squish his head from how hard you're coming. Joel just keeps himself situated, never letting up. Allowing you to completely let go and rut back into him, telling him you need more.
"Thaaat's it, my good fuckin' girl.” He praises as he kisses your cunt and ass, he leans over your face capturing your lips in a kiss so messy and depraved. “Open that mouth.” Spitting roughly onto your tongue with a groan as you taste your sweetness that he knows he will forever be addicted to. No chance of recovery.
He ruts his thick bulge into your ass as you whine needly.
"Really want you to fuck my face, now." You beg, hand reaching down to grope him through his loose pjs.
"Mmmmm," he murmurs as his hips keep rutting into you. "Tonight is about you, baby. M' gonna stuff your tight cunt so fuckin' deep you'll feel it in your throat, don't worry." And with that promise, he releases himself, throbbing cock slapping against his lower tummy. You flip onto your back just to see it and your eyes widen at the sight before you.
You always knew it was huge just from perception, but god. It's thicker than your wrist, and looks like it would prod into your cervix. Painful even. Joel senses the worry on your face as he pushes your legs back against your chest. Admiring the way your stomach folds into itself, soft roll after roll. And the thickness of your inner thighs lays heavy. He just wants to get down and feast on you again but he might die if he doesn't feel you wrapped around him.
"You're in charge here, sweetheart. Understood?" He explains as he rubs his fat cock head up and down your swollen slit — notching on your opening with every downward stroke.
You nod slowly, peeking down at the monster between your legs once more. He squeezes your ankle, subtly reminding you to vocalize.
"Yes daddy, I understand."
"Good." And with that, he pushes into your fluttering hole. Your eyes roll back immediately, head thumping onto the soft duvet. He pushes in deeper, barely halfway in and he sees your feet and eyes scrunch a bit. It almost feels like he could rip you apart. Maybe it's because you haven't been fucked in a hot minute — or maybe it's just that Joel is so fucking hung. More than any guy you've slept with.
“Deep breath for me, sweetheart.” He soothes you, as soon as he sees your chest fall — he slams the rest of the way in. Hips flush with the back of your thighs. Cock fully sheathed in your warm soaked cunt. Heavy brimming balls pressed against your little puckered hole. “You feel so damn good. Dripping for me.” Joel’s eyes close at the feeling of you hugging him so tight. He suddenly forgets the feeling of any other woman he’s pleased. Utterly devoted to you from here on out.
When he pulls out all the way to his fat tip — it notches on your opening. Like he has to put in that extra effort to fully remove himself from you. But he doesn’t, and starts fucking into you fully. Never half way, never pulling completely out.. but always making sure he reaches the end of you.
“Da- daddy oh, harder please.” You plead, squeezing his forearm at the overwhelming feel of him nudging your cervix with every thrust.
That confirmation of pleasure is all Joel needs to push your legs back even more — ankles by your head — and began a brutal relentless pace. Grabbing a fistful of your jiggling tit and messy hair, he pulls your head up so you can watch how he ruins you for anyone else.
“Ya see that, see how swollen your gettin’ already?” Joel questions as he holds your head perfectly to observe the slight lifted pudge on your tummy. Paired with the way his coarse hair rubs against your swelled clit — it’s a drool worthy sight.
“Cus’ your so big, Joel.” You sigh, eyes fluttering from the primal force he’s using on your body.
A smug grin flicks across his face at the view. Mind consumed by the most perfect woman. Eyebrows turning inward, the little lines between them deepening as you try to comprehend all the emotions in this moment. Removing his hand from your head, he finds your clit and swipes it upward. Over and over. Leaning down, he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as humanely possible. Tongue flicking the pebbled area, coercing your orgasm from you. “Cum with me, baby.” His muffled command shoots straight to your filled core.
As he feels you spasm around his thickness, he stills balls deep. “There it is, baby…” Spilling his cum inside your warmth. Plugging you, keeping you full of him. Joel relaxes his body against yours, finding your mouth to kiss you gently. Sweaty foreheads against one another. Joel goes to push off of you, his comforting body heat about to be ripped away.
"No! Wanna feel you longer, please."
Your protest makes Joel's heart surge. "Of course, sweet girl." Wrapping his large arms around you, he flips you both so that your soft plush body lays above him. The new angle makes his spent cock nudge a bit deeper, you both moan at the faint squelch of his cum overflowing your cunt. "You're so perfect," he mutters.
Smiling into his full chest, you leave a swift kiss. "So are you. Thank you for this. For.. everything."
Joel's hands finds your back as he begins gentle strokes onto your supple skin, his head resting atop your own. "Thank you, darlin'. I want you to understand something, you might just be the finest thing that ever happened to Sarah and I. Y'know, she didn't really want to see her mom. Never had the best relationship with her. She just wanted to spend the remainder of the summer havin' ya over everyday to swim and all. That girl admires you more than anyone."
Eyes foggy, you shift to gaze up at him. "And what does her father think?"
Joel pauses briefly, rich brown orbs beaming into yours. "Think she's damn right. She didn't want me to tell you this, but she left so I could have some alone time with you — take ya out. Scolded me sayin' by the time she's back, we better be together." He laughs at the thought, you join him. Picturing that 4'9 ball of fire lecturing her father on the rules of dating.
"So, you're asking me out Miller?" You question with a heavy hopeful heart.
"Should've done it forever ago, darlin'." He confesses, placing a delicate kiss on your temple.
And with that, you place your head back onto the warm chest of the man you've craved your entire life. Realizing, ever since that day where he first greeted you with that sultry gentleman voice — you were never truly alone.
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thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3
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xhopelesslyromanticx · 1 year ago
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Delusional - Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader
Masterlist
summary: In which the internet once again is fooled by your slightly overdramatic side. Rumors about Lando dumping you circulate but luckily the Mclaren driver is just as delusional as you are. Social Media Au
y/nfewtrell
Home
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liked by kellypiquet and 60‘797 others
y/nfewtrell in my feelings bruh
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maxfewtrell did you take my hoodie?
y/nstans what why????
user567 sense a breakupppp
f1islife stunning
arthur_leclerc *plays taylor swift
user345 arthur what do you know
y/nandlan Lando didn’t like?!
user567 see his post? he seems completely unbothered
user898 Landos too good for her anyw
f1gossip you sound bitter
user787 i just always had weird vibes from her
f1gossip we‘ve met y/n and she‘s literally an angel
y/nfewtrell thanks means a lot
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landonorris
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liked by maxfewtrell and 567‘897 others
landonorris how I try to entertain
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user687 such a hottie
f1fans someone say unbothered cough
georgerussell63 I thought you were on a diet?
alex_albon he‘s abt 4ft tall he doesn’t need a diet
mclaren next week we back to veggies
f1lover wheres the missus
user789 y/n doesn’t attend most gps she goes to university
f1fans yeah but so do Alex and Kika yet they seem to be way more supportive
user789 I‘m sure shes supportive just maybe also focused on her on career?
y/nstans y/n not liking landos post has me scaredddd
maxfewtrell looking smug
landonorris thanks bestieeee
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maxfewtrell
Paris
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liked by landonorris and 123‘890 others
maxfewtrell took the little nugget to paris @y/nfewtrell
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user578 she‘s so cute
f1lover peeping the papaya phone case
norrisandme yes also Lando liked! they goood
y/nfrance we met her yesterday and she seemed fine
arthur_leclerc the nugget in the big city
y/nfewtrell miss you archer
f1gossip my fave friendship
user787 why is she already flirting with guys when the rumors aren’t comfirmed
maxfewtrell oh god if you think y/n can flirt you‘re in for suprises
y/nfewtrell thanks maxie :) loved the trip
team_quadrant let’s go to Brazil!!!!
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f1gossip
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liked by user676 and 12‘899 others
f1gossip You guys know we normally don’t cover anything realitionship releated but it looks like Lando and Y/n are going through some crisis. She appeared on a tiktok crying after a series of mysterious tweets and instagram posts. Neither her or Lando have yet confirmed the rumors. But she has been absent from his likes and vice versa.
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user676 she’s making it obvious
f1fans cloutchaser?
y/nstans shut up
landonorris @y/nfewtrell care to explain missy
y/nfewtrell no i dont care to, peace out
user676 omg they commented
norrislove they clearly are clowing y‘all
maxfewtrell the woman cries like twelfe times a day and people still wonder?
landonorris twelfe is a little much, ten maybe eleven
y/nfewtrell I have my reasons this time!
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y/nfewtrell
Austin Texas
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liked by charlottesine and 234‘890 others
y/nfewtrell my lanlan. I formally apologize for being a lot to handle sometimes. I do love you more than words could even get close to explain. Thanks for being the best boyfriend and bestfriend. Thanks for pretending I‘m 21 forever.
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landonorris my world, anything for you 🧡
y/nfewtrell love youuu
maxfewtrell disgusting
maxfewtrell we all know she aint 21, plus he’s MY bestfriend
f1gossip we stan an overdramatic queen
charlottesine power couple
y/nfewtrell thanks chacha
user787 how annoying all that for such a petty reason
f1fans right i was relieved he had dumped her ass
y/nstans sad people you are, she clearly makes him happy
arthur_leclerc happy 21st I guess ;)
landonorris whats with the wink you twat
f1user y/n control your mans
landonorris
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liked by f1 and 1‘124‘799 others
landonorris happy 21st birthday to the most beautiful 21 one year old I know. I love you so much eventhough your overdramatic soul makes people assume we broke up every couple of months. I love you my angel.
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user676 21!?!?
f1gossip look at y/ns post
f1lover they have me dead
charles_leclerc isn’t she-
arthur_leclerc shut up charlie
maxfewtrell tell them!
y/nfewtrell thanks bean. I love you more.
maxfewtrell bean? cringe
kellypiquet such a beautiful girl
f1gossip so the whole drama reallly was bc she doesn’t wanna turn 22 hahaha
user67 she‘s truly overdramatic
f1 we love a supportive and delusional king
mclaren like a true gentleman Mr.Norris
maxfewtrell
Sao Paulo
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liked by oscarpiastri and 123‘788 others
maxfewtrell happy 22nd second you LIAR, never thought Lando would go as delulu as you. Love you nugget.
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myownwholewildworld · 3 months ago
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uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer
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series masterlist | main masterlist | part ii
pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.
summary: you're driving back home and, unbeknownst to you, you've committed quite a few traffic offences, noticed by the one and only police officer, joel miller. he's not gonna let you get your way that easily.
a/n: umm hello?? idk what happened, but here we are. i threw this idea to the wind, people seemed to like it, so i started typing and this is what came out. read the warnings and do not judge me please lol this is inspired by this and this ask, so kudos to them! so basically i have decided to start a series of one shots where joel miller wears different uniforms. YEAH, i know, i'm not okay but that's okay. if you guys have any suggestions for this series, my askbox is open! also, i've decided that if i/you guys want, i can write the same uniformed!joel more than once (e.g. two fics of police officer!joel). if someone is interested in being in the taglist for this series, please do let me know. anyways, i do appreciate all comments, reblogs, likes and asks. as always thank you for reading! <3
warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. filthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). alcohol consumption (reader is sober by the time it happens). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. rough, public sex. unprotected piv. creampie. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.
w/c: ~4.6k.
tagging some people who seemed to be v interested (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):
@fartcloudfartcloud @liciafonseca @fan-fiction-floozy @sweetlummie
“Shit”, you mumbled as the car keys slipped off your fingers.
You crouched down and blindly dabbed the asphalt, your phone falling off your hand too. You grunted in frustration ― maybe you did drink a bit more than what you had intended. Not to the point where you thought it would be dangerous, otherwise you wouldn’t be driving home. You were already clumsy when sober, so this was no sign of anything, really.
The keys had tumbled under your car, so you got on all fours and bent over to reach. After a few trials, you finally got hold of them. Steadying yourself on the handle of the driver’s side of your car, you got up. Your tiny, fitted skirt had scrunched up at your waist, so you pulled from the hem to bring it back down. Looking around, you hoped you hadn’t flashed anyone.
You had dressed up for the occasion. As you grew older, your group of friends slowly drifted apart, so agreeing on a date and time to meet up had been a fucking miracle. You had been out since midday and sipped on many margaritas to quench your thirst. But knowing you would need to drive back home, you had stopped drinking a couple of hours ago. If you could, you would have gotten hammered. Living in the outskirts of Austin sucked.
You managed to finally open your vehicle and sat down. You hunched down, avoiding the steering wheel, to undo your heels. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips when you took them off ― your feet were hurting so bad, you questioned all of your life choices. A minute later the motor roared awake, and you were on your merry way without a hitch.
That was until you drove out of the city center onto not very well-lit roads. You were driving through an industrial estate when sirens went off behind you. Clicking your tongue, you looked through the rearview mirror, thinking it may be an ambulance asking you to give way.
Ah, no, you were very mistaken. It was a freaking police car, and it seemed like it was asking you to pull over. Great, just fucking great, you thought.
The headlights blinded you, so you couldn’t see the man approaching your car. Then you heard a tap, tap, tap on your window, the officer dazing you with the torchlight. You inhaled deeply, putting on your best smile, and rolled down the window.
“Good evening, officer. What can I do for ya?”, you battered your eyelashes at him, still dazzled by the torchlight.
Maybe if you played all sweet and innocent, he would take pity on you and let you go.
However, you were met with a deep, husky voice.
“License and proof of insurance”, he barked, no good evening miss, no please, nothing. So rude.
When he put down the torch, you caught a glimpse of the guy’s face. Bearded jaw with a prominent moustache, brown curly hair with slivers of silver, an attractive hooked nose, and some devilish hazel eyes. He was in his mid or late forties and was so fucking handsome you almost drooled at the sight.
You bit your bottom lip, a lopsided smile curling at the corners.
“Yes, of course, officer”, your voice was sweet and smooth as you bowed over the passenger’s seat, your boobs casually resting on the steering wheel.
You opened the glove box and handed him the papers, faking the most innocent, girly look you could muster.
“Is there something wrong, officer?”, you asked, leaning on the door frame, gifting him with the tentative sight of your deep cleavage.
His eyes wandered off the papers he was holding and lingered where you intended. You read the tag on his shirt: Officer Miller. Well, Officer Miller looked damn good in that tight uniform. The black shirt clung to his flexed biceps, the buttons slightly giving way to the bulge of his chest, the belt hugging his waist and… good fucking lord, those thighs, the size of a rugby player’s.
Your mouth watered.
You would lie to yourself if you said you were not affected by his presence. In fact, your damp cunt might as well fucking disagree with you. You pressed your knees together, unconsciously looking for some relief to the sudden wet heat gathering in between your legs.
His eyes drifted up lazily, locking on to yours. You swore a muscle on his jaw twitched.
“You were speeding, doing 40 on a 30-mph road. And your headlights are off”, he replied, his tone raspy.
Fuuuuuuuck, that’s why I couldn’t see shit. Were you that drunk? You didn’t feel like it.
Your face expression didn’t flinch, playing dumb might just do the trick. So you giggled, smacking your forehead with the palm of your hand.
“Ah, silly me. But it was well lit up until now, sir, so no harm done, right?”, your honeyed voice pleaded. “I swear this was a 40-mph road a couple of months ago?”
“It was but got changed. Did you not see the road sign?”, he seemed to be very annoyed.
You had no time to answer, because Officer Miller pointed to your lap. For a second you panicked ― surely your arousal had not drenched your clothes, right? You were aware of how wet your pussy was, but not to that extreme. Right? You looked down ― your phone was resting on your lap, but nothing else. A wave of relief overcame you and then you glanced up at him, confused.
“You were talking on the phone while driving, I presume.”
You gasped and promptly shook no with your head.
“No, no, officer. You see, I left it there when I got in the car, I forgot it was on my lap. I promise I wasn’t texting or anything like that.” Your explanation was genuine, but he cocked a brow. “I wouldn’t lie to you, sir.”
“Why? Because you’re a good girl?”. That question caught you off guard and turned you on at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. Your clit twitched. You gaped and nodded unwittingly. “I see. Step out of the car.”
Your heart was racing, attempting to jump out of your chest. Maybe you had been too suggestive. But he was the embodiment of the law, surely the officer had had his good share of temptation and would not yield so easily.
You got out of your sedan, slightly dishevelled, and tugged at your skirt so it would stop riding up your thighs. Officer Miller had taken one step back, his eyes measuring you from top to bottom, loitering on your breasts. His tongue quickly darted out to wet his bottom lip ― you were mesmerised by the simple gesture and pondered how it would feel if you choked on his tongue.
That thought made your cunt gush some more. You pursed your lips ― eyes on him, trying to convey normalcy.
“You’ve been drinking and have also been driving barefoot. That’s a total of, what, five offences?”. Miller clicked his tongue in disapproval. “It’s like you’re begging to spend the night in a cell.” His eyes flickered with malice ― and something else. Lust?
You really did not want to sleep in a cell tonight. You just wanted to get home, that was all. Also, most of your “offences” were bullshit. You were certain he couldn’t charge you with half of it, but his wickedness made you wary.
“I’m not drunk,” you said with a languid smile, touching his forearm, his arms crossed at his chest. “I stopped drinking two hours ago, officer.”
He raised an eyebrow ― Officer Miller didn’t believe a word you said.
“I can smell it.” You didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but his eyes drifted down to your pussy.
“I-It?”, you repeated, lips parted.
He didn’t say anything, just stared at you for a long minute. Your bravery had flaked a bit, although your cunt was begging for him to do something about it.
Joel was having a hard time curbing his horniness. You were so inviting, so insinuating, it was like you were asking to be fucked there and then. Oh, yes, you were, he knew you were. Showing off your boobs, wetting your lips, rubbing your knees together, playing with the edge of your tiny skirt. He had noticed every single one of your seductive attempts.
His cock was hard, so much so that it was stretching against the zipper of his work trousers. He kept his arms crossed, but what he really wanted to do was to readjust his erection so it wouldn’t be so damn uncomfortable.
“Turn around, hands on the car”, he ordered with a steely voice.
You first looked muddled, but finally obliged, giving him your back ― your palms resting on the roof of your car, your knees pressed together. He was sure your cunt was pulsing, and you were just trying to calm yourself down.
The thought made him mad with lechery. His dick was throbbing already.
“I’m going to pat you down, and then I’m gonna cuff you. Understood?”, he warned you, getting close to you.
You suddenly looked over your shoulder, your smile unwavering. You tilted your pelvis back, your ass against his bulge. You glanced down and then back up at him decisively.
“I’m sure we can work something out, officer?”, you whispered, your butt pressing on his swollen lump.
No, Joel was not imagining things. You were definitely asking to be fucked senseless in exchange for just a warning. He was still contemplating whether to entertain the idea or not. You were tempting, he would give you that. Your body was built to satisfy a man’s pleasure ― he could see that even when you were clothed. Barely clothed. Your top was too small, your boobs almost spilling over the neckline; your skirt was too short, your ass cheeks almost visible ― and he was sure you had some slutty heels on before you jumped into the car.
His cock jerked at the thought of rearranging your guts. Because that was what Joel would do to you if he had the chance. He cupped his groin for a second now that you were not looking, pressing it slightly to relieve some of the tension.
It didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. He suppressed a frustrated groan.
Joel slotted his right knee in between your legs and forced you to separate them, his heavy boot grounding him. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you’re under arrest for at least reckless driving. Now stay still.” He was fully aware of how the top of his thigh brushed your crotch, but made a titanic effort to ignore it, for his own sanity.
Your panties were so fucking drenched, you feared your discharge might start dripping down your inner thighs. In fact, you let your head down to check discreetly and sighed with relief ― nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t notice how fucking horny you were.
Then he forcefully parted your legs, and you felt the fabric of his trousers sliding against your wet panties. The subtle touch made you jerked your hips up and then back down in surprise, your clothed cunt flushed against his thigh ― you had to swallow the sluttiest moan of your entire life, it felt damn good.
“I’m― I’m sorry”, you mumbled, lifting your body up to break the contact.
You didn’t need to look down to know that there would be a wet patch on his black trousers.
“You should be, making a mess of my uniform like that”, he grunted, exasperated.
Pressing your lips, you inspected every inch of the roof of your car while he patted you down. His big, calloused hands lingered on your underboob longer than necessary, almost cupping them. Both hands travelled down to your waist, his fingertips slightly under the waistband of your skirt.
Your heart was pounding, suddenly unsure of the whole thing. What were you really doing? Were you so desperate that you would let him use you in exchange for letting you go? Were you getting more than what you had bargained for?
It was like the excitement had burnt the last drop of alcohol in your blood and now you were fully aware of what you had unleashed.
But you had no more time to question your attitude, because Officer Miller completely slipped one of his hands under your underwear and buried all of his fingers in your soaked folds, except for his thumb which quickly found your clit. You shut your eyes and moaned audibly, your knees giving way.
His free hand wrapped around your waist to help you stand up, while his fingers traversed your whole slit, from your perineum to your clit, buttering your cunt with your own fluids.
“You are so fucking wet already, you should be ashamed of yourself”, he whispered in your ear while he pushed your ass back into his bulge.
Your treacherous body had awakened at his touch, your clit felt like it was on fire and your cunt was pulsating so hard it was uncomfortable. You rubbed his dick with your buttocks, unconsciously looking for some more friction. Miller groaned behind you, jerking you closer, his cock hard pressed against your ass.
Two of his fingers dipped further down and found your leaking hole, his thumb still rubbing your clit languidly. You whimpered and stirred your hips when one fingertip circled your entrance tentatively. Your back arched, pushing your butt further into his erection.
“Aren’t you a slut?”, he hissed as both fingers slid inside you, your brain not registering his words.
Your moist pussy clenched around his fingers, squeezing them hard. Every time your heart beat, so did your cunt. Officer Miller started fingering you, first slowly, and then picking up a relentless pace. Unable to control yourself, you mewled like a kitten in heat, your forehead now resting against the cold metal of your car and a thread of spit hanging from your mouth. Your needy cunt was so stimulated, so hot, so slippery, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, even if you wanted to.
So you let go. You orgasmed so hard, you squirted with his fingers still dug in your creamy pussy. But you coming didn’t stop Officer Miller from driving his digits inside of you over and over again, forcing another climax on you a minute later. Your inner walls palpitated so violently, you felt the emptiness of your womb. Then you noticed it: the trickle of your own cum streaming down your inner thighs.
Officer Miller forced his fingers out of you, a pop sound making it obvious that your pussy was drown in your own fluids. The cop tapped your pussy a few times, almost gently, as the last wave washed off your nerve endings. You had never come so hard in your life before. Not even your boyfriend of five years had been able to turn you on this bad.
When your limbs regained some strength, Miller let go of your waist and stepped back. You slowly turned around to face him, but as your eyes drifted down his uniform, you realised that there was a new wet patch on his trousers, this time on his bulge. You had leaked so much, you had drenched his own pants.
You tried to find the words to explain to him that this was not what you had intended. Or was it?
“You’re still under arrest”, his voice was resolute, as if nothing of what just happened had affected him.
Before your neurons could make contact with each other, he handcuffed you, your laced hands resting in front of you, conveniently covering your spent pussy.
“But―”.
“No but’s, blackmailing a cop is an offence too. So that makes it six now, right?”, he cut you off.
You huffed, not believing what he was saying. You had not blackmailed him, not even close, he was just making it up now. Before you could argue, Officer Miller removed the keys from the ignition, shut the driver’s door and locked your car. He then grabbed you by your elbow, forcing you to walk in front of him towards his cruiser.
“Oh, c’mon, you’re now just bullying me”, you complained, your sweet façade quickly toppling.
Miller didn’t reply to your taunting. He simply opened the back door of his Crown Vic and threw you in. You almost tripped but manage to stop the falling. You sat down on the seat, your legs still out of the car, bare soles against the asphalt.
You didn’t know what possessed you, but your cuffed hands darted up and played with the buckle of his belt. Maybe if you gave him some head, he would relax and let you go. You were already in too deep anyway, your whipped pussy living proof of your desire.
“Officer, please, I can make it worth your while if you let me go”, you muttered, your fingers unclasping his belt.
Miller did not say one word, he just stared you down while you held his gaze. His waist slanted forward in an unspoken invitation, his eyes swirling with lust and wickedness.
You were not sure why you were doing this, or if you wanted to do this. But you were a horny mess, your pulsing cunt urging you to keep going, saturating your panties even more. Sure, you could drive home and ask your boyfriend to take care of you, but by the looks of it, you were going to spend the night in a station cell if you didn't do something about it. About him.
With firm hands, you undid the buckle and unzipped his trousers. His big, meaty cock sprung out with no warning, swaying in front of you. He was wearing no underwear. You marvelled at the sight ― his dick was the longest you had ever seen with a considerable girth, veiny and hairy at the base. It looked scary, but also fucking tempting.
“Don’t just stare, do something”, he commanded, grabbing your cuffed hands to bring them closer to his erection.
Ah, someone is impatient, you thought with a smirk before wrapping both of your hands around his circumference. With your mouth agape, close to his leaking tip, you rubbed the precum against his slit with your thumb and then started pumping him. His cock was palpitating, hard and velvety under your clasp ― and warm, so fucking warm you could feel his blood rushing underneath.
His jaw clenched, his eyes transfixed on your moving hands as you upped the rhythm. And then, without prior notice, he fisted your hair in a ponytail and drove his whole dick down your parted lips. You retched when his glans surpassed your uvula and coughed with his cock still in your mouth.
You were suffocating, but he didn’t give a fuck. In any case, he pushed his cock further down, but it had nowhere to go. His pubic hairs tingled the tip of your nose as you looked up, silently asking for mercy with teary eyes.
Miller glanced down at you and the motherfucker just smiled as you were still gagging.
“Look at you. What a whore, you’re taking it so well”, he mumbled under his breath before pushing your head back.
His cock slid out and you coughed to clear your throat of precum, swallowing it. His brutish attitude, although unwelcome, made your traitor of a cunt gush.
“I’m gonna fuck your throat to teach you a lesson. Open up for me, darlin’.”
You didn’t know why, but you just obeyed. Without breaking visual contact, the cop slotted his cock back in between your lips. With his hands on your temples, he tilted his hips forward until his tip stroked the end of your throat. Then he pulled out harshly and started jackhammering your mouth relentlessly, driving his cock in as far as he could every single time, his hairy balls hitting your chin. With Miller taking the lead, your cuffed hands were free. They were lazily resting on your lap until you dipped them down, your index caressing your deprived clit.
You just took it like a champ. After a while, your gag reflex relaxed and you dared to press your lips around his girth, so it would be more pleasurable for him. His slick cock was drumming in your mouth, filling it up entirely, choking you.
Miller pulled your head back sternly ― you were panting like a puppy by the time he was done with your throat. Your eyelashes were damp with unspent tears. You were sure that tomorrow it was going to hurt like if you had caught the worst cold of your life. Your mouth was filled with his sticky precum, a bridge of it connecting your mouth to his cock.
“You’ve not thrown up, well done”, he chuckled darkly. “Clean this mess for me.”
Again, as if you were not in control of yourself, you did as you were told. You licked his throbbing cock, swallowing all the fluids you had swept off his groin.
He lightly patted your cheek. “Good girl, now get up and take that finger out of your pussy.”
You had not realised you had been fingering yourself all along and your clit was begging for some relief. With a trembling sigh, you removed your hand from in between your legs and stood up.
Only then you caught on: he had not come yet. Fuck, you thought.
Did you want this? You were not sure. Letting him finger you and giving him head was one thing, but letting him fuck you was a completely different story. You were not a slut nor a cheater, but he made you feel like one. Your dribbling pussy made you feel like one.
Joel snatched his fingers around your elbow once again and made you walk to the front of his cruiser. He was in extreme need of relief ― his cock was pulsing so hard it was driving him mad with lust. He was gonna fuck that cunt of yours till you begged him to stop.
Unceremoniously, he splayed you down across the hood of his car ― your chest against the metal surface, your ass up in the air and your legs spread wide. If he could take a picture to jerk himself off to, he would.
He needed to see for himself, taste for himself. He was sure as hell that your pussy was drooling, beseeching to be filled to the brim. So he knelt behind you and parted your ass cheeks to have a better look. You whimpered, tiptoeing to give him better access to your soaked flaps.
“You’re such a slut. I could scrunch your panties to fill up an entire glass with your cum. Your thighs are all wet and tacky too”, he couldn’t stop himself from pointing it out, driving his hands up from the back of your knees, up your inner thighs, until they reached your crotch, framing your pussy.
He leaned forward and sipped from the fountain of your underwear, his fingers digging in the flesh of your ass, smelling your sweet sex. You wept, moving your hips against his mouth. Ah, yes, he knew you wanted him to fuck you hard. Very hard.
Joel rode up your tight skirt, exposing your ass to the elements. And then he pulled down your panties and put them in the pocket of his vest, as if they were a trophy. Because they were.
He now could have a better look at your creamy cunt, all smeared with your wanton fluids. Spreading your pussy open with his hands, he lapped you entirely a few times, even your butthole. Joel heard your moans loud and clear, knowing that you had never had your pussy eaten this good before. So he kept on going ― lapping, licking, sucking, biting until you squirted in his mouth, leaking like a broken tap and whining like a bitch in heat.
Joel drank it all and when you were finished, he stood up. He spanked your ass and with a swift movement, impaled you until his balls were flat against your thighs.
You screamed, literally screamed at the top of your lungs, when he stabbed you with his cock. You tried to hold onto something, but there was nothing you could grab. This was exactly what your cunt needed, being stuffed like a goddamn turkey in thanksgiving. Officer Miller drove his cock in and out of you lazily at first, and then he started fucking you stupid with such vigour that your body was being rocked back and forth, the handcuffs sliding against the hood, scratching the metal underneath.
You just moaned uncontrollably throughout the whole thing, unable to quieten yourself. Your cunt clutched around his throbbing dick, squeezing it hard, so hard you felt your muscles strain. Your clit spasmed severely, another fucking climax creeping up on you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK”, you implored to the sky, to him, to whoever was listening.
The cop then fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled backwards, forcing you up off the hood, your back arching against his chest while he drilled you mercilessly. You were sure the squelching sounds your pussy was making could be heard from a mile away.
Then you finally came again, shrieking ― your treacherous pussy clamping down on his dick, leaking absolutely everywhere, trying to desperately milk him dry. Your eyes welled up, your black eyeliner running down your cheeks.
“You’re gonna take it inside and you’re not gonna complain”, he moaned in your ear and even in your blissful daze, you panicked.
“I’ve got a boyfriend,” you mentioned, but you knew it wasn’t going to stop him.
“Ah, do you? Doesn’t seem like it right now”, and then he huffed heavily, letting go, driving his cock as far inside of you as he physically could.
His warm cum filled you to the brim, painting your walls of sticky white. Irremediably, you sighed, heaving, and closed your eyes, letting yourself rejoice in how full you were of his spent, of his cock.
And as soon as it started, it ended. His dick slid out of your crying, sensitive pussy, leaving your damp skin exposed to the cold air.
You took a minute to compose yourself and pushing down your skirt. When you looked at him, he had already tucked away his cock back in his work trousers, his cop uniform slightly in disarray. Now there were more wet, sticky patches adorning his groin area, a mixture of your shared pleasure.
“Can I have my panties back, please?”, you requested, extending your hand to him, with a sunny, albeit quivering, smile.
“No, I’m keeping them.” You furrowed your eyebrows.
“Can I at least have a tissue to clean myself up?”, your voice grew smaller as you lost confidence.
“No. I want you to go home with your pussy bursting with my cum, so that boyfriend of yours knows you’ve been fucked stupid by someone else”, he explained, full of himself.
At least you were going home. Or so you thought until you saw him walk to the back door of his Crown Vic, holding it open for you to jump in.
“This means nothing, you’re still spending the night in the cell”, he said, matter-of-factly.
You scoffed, angry. “Are you fucking serious?”, you asked, although what you really wanted to do was cry.
But you swallowed your tears, contrite ― your pride was bigger than your shame. And right now, you felt mortified.
What had you done?
Well, you had gambled, and you lost.
But, on the other hand, he had fucked you so good, so filthy, you were not sure any other cock would measure up to his.
883 notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 11 months ago
Text
pick of the crop | logan sargeant social media au
pairing: logan sargeant x fem farmer!reader
sometimes opposites attract so much that a city boy is willing to get mud on his trainers
based on this request: Logan sargeant x reader smau, where she’s like a farmer in the country, and people are surprised that they’re so different? - @indesicivelyconfuzzled
MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI?
logansargeant
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liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 611,209 others
tagged: yourusername
logansargeant: never been so thankful for a two week break in the race calendar, farm time has been overdue.
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user1: did we just unlock the farmer version of logan
user2: real ones have known farmer logan since his f2 days
oscarpiastri: ugh... couple goals i guess
yourusername: you guess?
logansargeant: you wish you were us
yourusername: let's not pit two powerful women against each other
oscarpiastri: thank you y/n
yourusername: i was talking about me and lily, y'all can fight amongst yourselves
user3: you guys are fake as fuck cause why didn't you tell me logan has a gf
user4: a farmer gf ?!?!?!?
alexalbon: so i got heat from you for @albon_pets (follow me) but your gf has a whole ass farm?
logansargeant: and what? dodger would defo take otter in a fight
yourusername: stop the violence
alexalbon: see, this is why people are confused on how you guys got together
logansargeant: i'm just standing up for my dog child ?
yourusername: leave the children out of it
user5: idk how or when this happened but i am enjoying seeing another side of logan
user6: for real haven't seen his feral side since prema
user7: two weeks on a farm will do that to you
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 3,199 others
tagged: logansargeant
yourusername: the y/ln farm takes the cota paddock, thanks @alexalbon for recommending fifi for the job of paddock drama queen
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user9: she brought a horse for her paddock debut ???
user10: idk about you guys but i am thoroughly enjoying whatever the fuck is going on right now
logansargeant: i think fifi did great (i think dan might be friends with us now)
yourusername: she's a gentle queen (omg we've made friends?)
danielricciardo: damn right you have a new friend what a STALLION
yourusername: you can ride her if you want :)
alexalbon: WE CAN?
landonorris: WE CAN?
maxverstappen1: i would like to ride the horsey
yukitsunoda0511: dan woke me up with his scream of joy so you're morally obligated to let me have a ride on fifi as well
logansargeant: well if i knew all i needed to do was bring y/n and fifi to the paddock to make friends they would've been at miami :(
user11: crying so the reports that logan was feeling really lonely were real?
user12: at least he has y/n?
oscarpiastri: cool kids have already ridden with fifi :)
logansargeant: you screamed the whole time?
oscarpiastri: semantics
danielricciardo: i'm outside williams hospitality let me in
yourusername: that was fast?
charles_leclerc: it's kinda in the job description (we're all here please let us in)
user13: the way all the teams are gonna be like where are all of our drivers and why are they all running away?
williamsf1
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liked by yourusername, logansargeant and 610,994 others
tagged: logansargeant, alexalbon
williamsf1: austin you delivered !! logan and alex pick up three and four points each in logan's first points and our first double points finish of the season !!
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user14: someone tell y/n she's not allowed to go home, she's a williams employee now
liked by logansargeant
alexalbon: WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETRE I LOVE YOU AMERICA
logansargeant: 🤨🤨🤨🤨
alexalbon: don't lie you love the bit
logansargeant: no i think YOU love the bit
alexalbon: today i love YOU 😘
yourusername: 🤨🤨🤨🤨
alexalbon: i guess i love you too
yourusername: i would like to think so. don't think i didn't see you swipe a jar of marmalade
alexalbon: GUILTY
user15: williams points, maybe america isn't all bad ...
yourusername: home race did pretty boy so good :))))
logansargeant: idk i think you might just be my lucky charm and can never leave my side again
yourusername: what about the children logan :(
logansargeant: fuck dem kids
logansargeant: JOKES
oscarpiastri: 📸 📸 📸 got ur ass
logansargeant: why are you here?
oscarpiastri: i want naming rights of the next babies 😬
yourusername: logan :((((((( they have feelings :(((((
logansargeant: i'm sorry :( i just love you :(
yourusername: awwwwww i love you too
oscarpiastri: so can i name the next babies PLEASE
yourusername: you wanna give logan a tow next race?
oscarpiastri: fuck no
yourusername: then there's your answer
user16: what the fuck is going on here?
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yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 7,103 others
tagged: logansargeant
yourusername: there's no such thing as a snooze button here
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user17: FARM LOGAN FARM LOGAN FARM LOGAN
user18: farm logan makes me weak in the knees
oscarpiastri: why are there two pictures of logan?
logansargeant: choke.
oscarpiastri: woah i didn't know comedy was illegal in texas
yourusername: to perform comedy you kinda need to be funny oscar
oscarpiastri: i am funny?
yourusername: sure ...
oscarpiastri: stop trying to look like a nice gf on the internet you make fun of him just as much as i do
logansargeant: she did say that she prefers dermot over 'my ass'
yourusername: LOL sorry logan....
landonorris: am i dumb?
oscarpiastri: yes :)
yourusername: ass is another way to refer to a donkey lando
landonorris: ohhhh. in that case i am a massive donkey
yourusername: oh that's not...
user19: y/n having to deal with more than logan and oscar will kill her i fear
alexalbon: SHEEP PLEASE BRING SHEEP NEXT RACE PLEASE I LOVE SHEEP
yourusername: you good?
alexalbon: i love sheep. sue me
yourusername: we actually host sheep cuddle session at the farm lol
logansargeant: can confirm they are very cuddly (not as much as you)
alexalbon: 1. why thank you logan 2. LILY CANCEL THE FLIGHTS
logansargeant: i was talking about y/n... but i knew you remembered our snuggle on the plane
alexalbon: i'm like an octopus in my sleep, just ask lily or george
user20: please santa bring me a cuddle session with the sheep at y/n's farm 🤞
logansargeant
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liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 503,776 others
tagged: yourusername
logansargeant: 2024 williams? no. y/n's tractor? YES
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user21: country boy i love youuuuuuuuuuuu eh
user22: third pic is doing something to me that is irreversible
yourusername: lovely lovely cowboy, i might have to ban you from working on the farm cause you're too distracting
logansargeant: saying that as if you don't make collecting eggs look like the hottest thing in the world
yourusername: you looking mighty fine wrangling the cows
logansargeant: you riding a horse makes me go feral
alexalbon: OKAY WE'LL BE ENDING THAT THERE BEFORE IT LEAVES THE PG RATING
yourusername: boooooo you're no fun 🍅 🍅🍅
logansargeant: as if you aren't posting up your feet all over the timeline 🤨
alexalbon: ffs it's just double trouble with you people
user23: only time that driving a tractor is attractive for f1 drivers
oscarpiastri: you guys look like you've jumped out of a trashy romance novel
yourusername: you read them enough to know that
oscarpiastri: what is on my kindle is between me and god
logansargeant: oscar jack piastri leave us out of your smut
oscarpiastri: oh stop being so dramatic, i don't want to know what you freaks do on that farm
logansargeant: and you'll never know. don't think of my girlfriend like that
yourusername: and don't think about my boyfriend like that
oscarpiastri: you people are infuriating
yourusername: we irritating 👯‍♀️
logansargeant: they hate to see bad bitches winning 💅
user24: this relationship is so precious to me
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yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 31,503 others
tagged: logansargeant
yourusername: farm update: meet the formooooola one grid!!
yuki has eaten all of my shoes :(
alex has taken station in the chicken coup
charles thinks he's a dog?
max and daniel just snooze everyday under the orange trees
george is always right at the door every morning
oscar and logan are just obsessed with each other and the goats
yes i did name the one with the prettiest coat after lewis
fernando is always sat on some poor soul (usually one of the cats)
carlos and lando chase each other constantly
lance and esteban are chill and just like cuddles
valterri drags zhou to do dumb stuff (they got stuck in a window? don't ask)
pierre demands to be brushed everyday
checo, nico and kevin are the mother hens
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user27: stop the count!!! this IS the cutest moment of the year
yukitsunoda0511: i'm sure cow yuki has a very good excuse
yourusername: i don't have any leather shoes so at least he's not a cannibal?
logansargeant: he did eat my limited edition converse though 🤨
lewishamilton: i simply HAVE to meet cow lewis he sounds like a great dude
yourusername: he's very calm and does love affection
logansargeant: he let me give him belly rubs !!
lewishamilton: that is cute (do not try to touch my stomach)
logansargeant: ... noted
user28: i will never recover from this and need constant updates please
logansargeant: cow me might be obsessed with oscar but real me is still obsessed with you
yourusername: don't tell the others but both you and cow logan are my faves - i love you
logansargeant: awwww i love you too
alexalbon: OUTRAGE
oscarpiastri: ROBBERY
yourusername: oh please ....
logansargeant: you snooze you lose
danielricciardo: awww they can't even separate us as cows @maxverstappen1
maxverstappen1: we're bffs in every universe daniel
yourusername: this is very heartwarming
logansargeant: we're still better though, right?
yourusername: oh of course
danielricciardo: ???
maxverstappen1: ???
fin.
note: two in one day? i am on a roll - i hope you all enjoy with me finally writing for logan !! i for one am glad he's getting a second season!
2K notes · View notes
pedgito · 11 months ago
Text
𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘, 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 | BFD!Joel x Fem!Reader
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summary | the rich father of your bestfriend, sarah — joel miller, was a mystery to you until one day he isn't and you quickly find that your interest in him isn't one-sided. [12k]
pairing | joel miller x fem!reader
content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, au/no outbreak, bfd!joel, ceo!joel, mentions of reader growing up poor/absent parents (joel is ridiculously loaded, it's fic y'all let me live lol), sneaking around, age gap (not explicitly specified, but reader is in final year of college and joel is probs late 40s/50s), vacations, gift-giving, unprotected piv, come swallowing, daddy issues if you squint, one (1) pussy slap, oral (f receiving), semi-public fucking
author’s note | anyways, here’s this. big age gap, some power dynamic stuff but not really. if you don’t like, don’t read & all that jazz. love you babies. xo.
↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic recs
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There was no hiding who Joel Miller was to the town of Austin—a pioneer in the community for rebuilding and building upon the surrounding shopping areas and neighborhoods to save the town from complete gentrification. He owned three companies at this point—one manned by his brother Tommy who dealt with larger businesses, handled the biggest amount of workload when it came to dealing with customers. The other was handled by his wife Maria, more often communicating with smaller businesses in the area. Mom and Pop shops, family owned and locally sourced shops. And Joel dealt with the community directly, building houses at an affordable rate that kept his business booming and well above the surrounding competition.
He was so sought after that the idea of him felt like an enigma.
But, to you—he was just Sarah’s dad. For years you never had the pleasure of meeting him, with his constantly busy schedule he was often away when you came to visit Sarah on their massive—almost too comically large piece of land on the outskirts of Austin, Texas. 
A large two-story farmhouse that seemed like something right out of a storybook—pristine and in perfect condition, surrounded by what felt like miles of grassy land and fencing. Horses, chickens, goats, growing piglets that were taken care of by Sarah and Joel themselves.
You’ve known Sarah since you were fourteen, aware of her upbringing and the type of family she came from, but it never deterred her from being the kindest friend you’ve had. And your shared, similar interest led to an easy friendship that lasted well into college. Sarah was also aware of your…less than ideal family situation, living under the roof of a single parent household, given you were an only child it wasn’t horrible—but your father was a drunk and didn’t manage his money well and that often meant going without. It didn’t matter what, but there was always something lacking that you wish you didn’t have to make up for with your already overwhelming amount of college work and lingering debt.
You didn’t have anywhere to go, unfortunately. 
But, Sarah was always there.
And it isn’t until your final year of college that you find yourself finally meeting the once mysterious Joel Miller, remembering that Sarah told you something about how he was trying to take a step back, allowing more responsibility on his trusting employees to head the company while he took a step back and managed everything as a whole from a distance—less involved, more time at home around Sarah, it was a win win situation.
With both of you working toward similar degrees, it was helpful and convenient to share notes and study as often as you could, especially as your final term papers were nearing and looming like a dark cloud.
It’s an unsuspecting Thursday night when you and Sarah are pausing the heavy studying to cook a quick dinner when Joel walks into the kitchen, approaching the island and nearly tilting your entire existence on this earth on an axis. Your breath catches briefly, eyes dragging over his figure. You’ve seen pictures—family vacations that Sarah has shown you when they were flying across the country over summer breaks and you were stuck at home. 
But, nothing compared to the real thing.
His hair is grown out, curling around his ears. A warm, soft brown that is styled and shaped so perfectly it seems unreal—but the loose curl that falls over his forehead gives it away. There’s a deep cut in his silk-pressed shirt that hangs loosely on his frame, some abstract pattern that shouldn’t work as well as it does on him, but his tan skin compliments the deep tones and varying designs. The faint dusting of chest hair is obscured by the chains that hang in the space the silk-button up creates where he lacks the ability to fasten them, or rather chooses not to.
And you try not to let your gaze linger on the cut of his jeans as they cling snug to his legs, cuffed at the ankles and showcasing a pair of—what you can only suspect are new loafers. A dark chocolate brown accented with a gold metal piece along the center to complement his jewelry around his neck and the few rings placed meticulously on his fingers.
It’s no secret his ring finger sits untouched, lacking the heavy weight of a significant other's mark. Sarah mentioned her mom dying young, much like your own—maybe that’s why you two bonded so easily. 
“Got enough for your old man?” Joel questions curiously, tapping away at his phone meticulously before pocketing it, eyebrows raised in question.
“You hate boxed mac and cheese,” Sarah argues flippantly, flicking the empty box at her father across the counter, “so no, I don’t.”
“No, babygirl—I just hate the powder kind.” He flicks it back just as easily and you note how easy their relationship feels, like this is how things should be. 
Sarah laughs, scrunching her nose up in amusement. “Charming, isn’t he?”
Oh—she’s talking to you? You look at her for half a second, confused, before you’re quickly nodding in agreement without fully listening to what she had asked.
“It’s alright, you don’t have to lie.” She assures, stirring the noodles in the pot over the stove.
Your gaze lingers selfishly, catching the faint twitch of a smile on Joel’s face as he catches you looking. It’s nothing more than a friendly smile, comforting rather than disarming. 
“You know—Sarah never brings her friends around.” Joel starts begrudgingly, eyeing Sarah down before switching to you, “Seein’ as I’ve been hearing all about you for years now and I’m just now meetin’ you in the flesh.”
“Dad, stop scaring her.” Sarah gripes, searching around haphazardly for a couple of bowls, “seriously—just ignore him. He doesn’t know how to act now that he’s home more.”
Joel rolls his eyes dismissively, extending his hand in a kind gesture. You grab it hesitantly and he senses it, pointer finger dragging along the underside of your palm as he holds it delicately and bows his head.
“She’s just mad she can’t get rid of me now,” Joel tells you softly, nodding toward Sarah over your shoulder, “how’s the studying goin’?”
He doesn’t let go of your hand immediately and you don’t try to escape either, allowing the brief moment of lingering contact before you slip it away, shoving your hands into your back pockets.
“Fine.” Sarah’s response is clipped.
It’s stressful, if you’re being honest. But, you could see that Sarah didn’t want to relay that to her father, side-eyeing you wearily. 
It’s the first of many interactions that led to the tiny crush you began to have for Joel Miller. Your once a week studies eventually turn into two or three times a week, desperate to spend as much time away from your own home situation as possible.
Eventually, it’s nearly an everyday thing. You and Sarah would finish your day of classes and drive the short distance to her house and spend most of the night studying. Gradually, you were introduced into their own routine. At first, Joel would offer to buy dinner and leave things be, allowing you the space you needed. But, it eventually delves into weekly dinners and sitting down as if you were a part of this pseudo-family situation you’ve interjected yourself into.
Sarah knew you didn’t like it at home, so it was never a problem. Joel caught on after a few weeks—noticing how you avoided any questions about yourself, your family, anything that would allow him any glimpse into who you were outside what Sarah had told him, which wasn’t much at all. He’s trying to make you feel welcomed and you can appreciate that.
You’ve offered to help pay for meals on multiple occasions, but it never works. Quickly thwarted off by Joel’s extended hand as he shoves your cash away, assuring you that it wasn’t your responsibility. This was his house, his gesture, and he didn’t want you to think you owed him anything.
Yet, something in you yearned to do so. 
You wanted him to know just how grateful you were.
-
His curiosity about you comes to a head on a night after a few beers with friends, poker table trashed and the kitchen a mess. You were bringing down the trash from Sarah’s room, the shared dinner you two had had as a treat for your first day without studying—it was relaxing, mostly because your day had been spent here rather than home.
Joel gathers a few bottles in his large palm, slipping the lips of the bottle through spread fingers. “You two enjoyin’ yourselves?” He asks, looking at you casually. It was a question you’ve heard often, a simple conversation starter. And talking to Joel was much easier now.
You nod, lips pulled into a tight smile. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”
“C’mon now,” Joel jests, dropping the bottles into the trash, “none of that—it’s Joel. Shit makes me feel old, darlin’.”
The nickname wasn’t new either. He often called Sarah by her name or babygirl. 
Darlin’ though, it was all you.
He takes the dirty plates from your hands and places them in the sink, palm extended against the ledge of the counter while he rests his other hand against his hip.
“How are you doin’?” He asks, voice softer but still gruff. “Not that you have to tell me, I just want to make sure you’re feelin’ comfortable here.”
“I’m okay,” You say through an unsure smile that Joel notes but doesn’t press on, “it’s just easier to study here—I’m sorry if I spend too much time around here. Feels like you should be charging me rent by now.”
“Not a chance in hell, darlin’.” Joel grins, shiny white teeth showing behind his smile. The small bit of his shirt that was tucked in came loose by the rub of his fingers at his hip and drawing your eyes to the skin briefly, “you’re always welcome here.”
And you hate the way you crave even an inkling of physical contact from him. A pat on the shoulder, a hug, a fucking kiss on the forehead. You weren’t his daughter, you didn’t want to be. But, there was something about Joel that you couldn’t pull away from, trying your best to keep it at bay.
“You know what,” Joel says suddenly, pulling your lingering gaze back on his face, feeling guilty as you chewed on your bottom lip, “why don’t you come on vacation with Sarah and I next month?’
“Mr—Joel, that’s—” You’re quickly silenced by his hand actually pressing against your shoulder now—and fuck, when had he gotten so close?
“Sarah was thinkin’ about asking you anyways. We’re gonna take a trip to the Keys,” He rubs gently at the junction in your shoulder, the thick expanse of his thumb pressed against bare skin, “—just consider it, alright? Lord knows you both need a break as much as I do.”
The thing about Joel is that he was such a good father, something you haven’t been privy to in the couple decades and some few years you’ve been alive. You want to feel jealous and angry, spiteful that this was something you couldn’t have naturally. But, it feels nothing like that.
The crush you had on Joel was dangerous. But, that was all it was. A craving to be around Joel, to seek his approval and gain his trust. And bask in the care he provides. A simple case of daddy issues that you couldn’t admit to yourself was actually happening.
You shouldn’t entertain the idea.
 You shouldn’t even consider it. 
“Oh—okay. Yeah, as long as Sarah is alright with that.” You nod, a genuine, soft smile stretching across your face. Joel squeezes your shoulder tighter and you swear you feel it moving in closer, like he wants to hold you closer, cradle you in his hands. But, then the touch is gone and his fingers are running through his hair, curls separating through his fingertips.
“Alright then.” Joel says triumphantly, “You gonna be okay gettin’ home tonight?”
Sarah was driving you home soon, like usual. You nod.
“Good,” Joel nods, “Goodnight, darlin’.”
“Goodnight, Joel.” You say sweetly, patting your hand against the countertop softly, unable to spare a look his way as you walk in the opposite direction.
But, he can’t help his own fleeting and inappropriate thoughts, eyes dragging along your figure as you walk away, hands gripping the countertop like a vice, internally kicking himself how indecent he was allowing himself to think about you. Still, it didn’t stop the thoughts from flooding in and if he found himself spread out on his sheets that night, cock held tight in his hands as he fucked himself into his fist—well, he could repent for it some other time.
-
You touch down in the early morning on a Sunday, still riddled with anxiety from the plane ride. Joel had tried his best to accommodate, even buying first class tickets despite his usual tendency to go business. He didn’t care much for amenities but he wanted to treat Sarah and you, making you feel guilty with how quickly your face lit up at the sight. Spacious seats stocked with gifts and snacks, a tiny television molded into the area, it felt like too much. 
It was. But, Joel assured you it wasn’t.
There was little planned for the week you had to spend there and you had tried to scrounge up a little cash within the month you had to save, picking up a few extra shifts at your job and stowing it away for this—hoping you could treat yourself to something, anything. Even if it was just a stupid tourist shirt that cost an egregious amount of money.
Joel quickly snuffs out that idea, putting his foot down as he assured you that this trip was a treat. Not just for himself, but for all of you. You never asked how much money the Miller’s had, but it was clearly more than you could ever fathom to be imaginable. He yanks the black Amex from his wallet and hands it off to every waiting server and store owner you three come across.
It’s abundantly clear that they don’t worry about money in the sense that you do—it wasn’t unwelcomed, but it was an adjustment that took a couple days to get over, feeling shame for enjoying it. He’d paid for the plane fare, booked the hotels and the activities you had planned, made sure meals were paid for and then some, even allowing you and Sarah some spending money to go shopping for clothes or whatever you needed. 
He didn’t ask, it didn’t matter. He just wanted you to feel welcomed. Like family…or something.
The trip is fairly harmless fun, a few swimming activities that tire you all out and lend to an early turn in on a couple nights, dinners that lended you to learn a lot more about Joel. Still, as much as Joel tried, you weren’t as open. Vague answers, sidewaying the conversation. He didn’t try to pry, though. And you were thankful for that.
But, with fairly harmless came a few instances that didn’t feel so.
The first comes in the deep end of the ocean, floating on a shared longboard in the midst of the calm waves, humid heat sticking to your skin. Fingers fiddling with the loosening tie around the back of your neck as Sarah wades off to the shore for a brief minute to reapply sunscreen. And maybe you shouldn’t have asked, but you see the lingering look Joel gives you, fingers curling subtly against the edge of the board.
“Can you help me?” You ask, slowly edging around the board until you’re beside him, turning before he has the opportunity to answer. “It’s hard to get it tight on my own.”
Joel clears his throat and offers a smile, “‘Course, chin down for me?” And you follow his lead, feeling his fingers brush against your neck and guide your head down, untying the loose not completely and feeling your swim top go slack, covered by the safety of the water and your back turned to him, but it doesn’t stop the touch of his fingertips against your skin as he ties the knot and tugs slightly, assuring that it was secure to his liking. You lift your head slowly when you feel his palm press flat against your back, fingers curling around the point where your shoulder meets your neck.
“Thanks, Joel.” You turn your head over your shoulder to look back at him, earning a small nod as his touch lingers, only loosening when you rescue your grip on the longboard in front of you.
“Enjoyin’ yourself so far?” He asks, always able to ease into steady conversation without missing a beat. “Any complaints?”
“Definitely,” You smile wide, huffing soft laugh through your nose as you shake your head, “I guess I do have one complaint, actually.” You tell him honestly, a subtle nervousness to your voice. 
“Well, I’m all ears, darlin’.” He responds, leaning his elbow onto the board as it bobbed slightly.
“I just…you don’t have to pay for everything, Joel.” You find yourself rushing out the words, hoping that it wouldn’t cause an adverse reaction, but instead, Joel smiles wider.
“Look, I invited you on this trip,” Joel explains, “and that means you aren’t paying for a damn thing. Alright?”
You nod meekly, quieting down as Sarah waded back into the ocean toward you both.
With Joel, it was something you would have to learn to accept.
You try to ignore the lingering touch of his fingertips on your neck, but now it feels like a burn in your skin that would only get worse as time went on.
The second instance isn’t as much of a thing, rather than a moment.
Eyeing a sundress that resembled some of the similar outrageous patterning that Joel wore, shapes and blobs morphed around the material yet somehow managing to look chicer than anything you’ve ever come across, strappy and long and deep cut down the center. It wasn’t for modesty, you could assume that much. You run your fingers along the creases and stitching in the fabric, admiring it as you flipped the tag in your hand, immediately gawking at the price.
Joel had been lingering by, browsing the various knick knacks and souvenirs lining the shelves off the small store—all hand-made pieces that he could appreciate, but didn’t find any use for himself. And he’s watching you, has been for a while, noticing the way your eyes kept flicking back toward the dress despite your path around the store.
Joel casually follows the same path, taking a subtle peek at the tag. It was a few hundred dollars, but given the silkiness of the material and him being very familiar with the tone of pricing around the area, it wasn’t an outrageous ask. He slips the dress off the rack, careful as he removes it off the hanger and finds you separated from Sarah as you peruse down a wall of jewelry—some cheap and some not, looking around with no real want, just admiring.
He slips the dress into your hands, rough, overworked palms cupping your own as he makes you physically wrap your fingers around and claim the garment, chest to your back as he speaks, lips a hair's breadth away from your ear.
“It’s a pretty dress,” Joel says calmly, much calmer than your rapidly beating heart and the sudden uptick in your breathing, silk material spread out over your fingertips, “shame for it to go to waste, darlin’.”
“It’s expensive.” You argue, voice soft as he locks eyes with you in the mirror nestled in the nearest corner, “It’s nice to want things Joel, but I don’t need it.”
“I dunno,” He responds, unconvinced, “and—maybe I’m speaking out of turn but I think it’d look great on you.”
And you’ve never been more thankful of Sarah’s obliviousness to certain things, so wrapped up in her own shopping across the store that you two remained unsuspecting, eyes still locked on one another through the shared mirror.
He can see the way your body twitches at the comment, responds, but what he doesn’t understand is how it makes your cunt throb, solid body pressed against your back as he squeezes the backside of your hands with his palm. The willingness of contact was still fresh and new but it never made you feel unsafe—in fact, it had the opposite effect entirely.
Joel speaks again, directly to you in the mirror.
“I might just have to buy it for you, darlin’.” He says quietly, “You alright with that?”
You hesitate for a moment, but nod shakily. “Thank you, Joel.”
“Don’t need to keep thankin’ me.” Joel assures, “I know it’s implied.”
But, the instance that had you reeling for days after, still replaying it vividly in your mind, was a night near the end of your trip. Sarah had long gone to bed and you, riddled by insomnia, find yourself at the hallway vending machine, looking for a snack to cure your growing hunger.
Though, it seemed that Joel had the same idea—fork halfway into his mouth as he turned the corner, a sizable piece of chocolate cake inside of a small to-go tray, looking even guiltier as he caught sight of you, feeling like he really didn’t want to get caught like this. It makes you laugh into the palm of your hand. Joel is acting like the kid that got sneaking cookies in the middle of the night, still not hesitating to lick the fork clean as he tucked it away in the styrofoam box.
“Don’t tell Sarah,” He swears you to secrecy, “she’s already on my ass enough about my sugar intake.”
“You’ve got a sweet tooth,” You shrug, “nothing wrong with that.”
“What about you, huh?” Joel’s eyebrows raise in question, watching as you peruse the various snacks but not finding anything particularly appetizing. “Late night snack?” 
“Somethin’ like that.” You chew at your bottom lip, feeling that this was useless.
“Wanna share it?” Joel asks suddenly, pulling your attention to him immediately. “That way I feel a little less guilty about it.”
“Oh—and then bring me down with you?” You tease lightly, “Of course.”
It’s how you end up in Joel’s room that night, no other intentions than to share that stupid piece of cake, lacking a fork so you trade off for a few bites until it slowly delves into you both feeding each other as you talk, one of you hogging the fork more than the other. You curled up in one chair and Joel relaxed out in the other, styrofoam box held to his chest and forcing you to lean closer to assure you didn’t drop crumbs everywhere.
Maybe it should feel weird, but it doesn’t. 
“You know—if there’s anything you do need—” Joel begins after a while, meaningless conversation having died out.
“I know—Sarah tells me all the time. I just have to ask.” It feels pointless, rehashing things again. But, Joel feels the need to reassure and comfort. It didn’t help that he was finding himself, at his age, attracted to you in such a depraved way. “I will—if I do, I mean.”
It’s forbidden territory he couldn’t cross. But realistically, that only made him want you more. 
Joel feeds you a slow bite, lips catching over the fork but smearing a copious amount of chocolate frosting on your chin. Before you have the thought process to wipe it away Joel is already there, leaning forward in his chair as he uses his pointer finger to clean you up, eyes following his movements carefully after the first initiation of touch. 
Your breath catches in your throat, expecting him to use his own mouth to disallow wasting the frosting, but instead he raises it to your mouth in a split decision, his eyes dilating slightly under your shy gaze. Your lips press against the side of his finger in a gentle kiss that quickly spreads, taking the full length of his finger into your mouth as you lick away the excess frosting, feeling the pulse of desire in your belly as it grew, knowing that if Joel wanted to keep you there he could, locked under his gaze with his fingers stuffed into your mouth and you’d let him.
It was despicable. Inappropriate and wrong. But, you couldn’t help how badly your body wanted him, despite your brain telling all of this was a horrible decision.
You pull your mouth away with a soft pop, watching as Joel curl’s his hands into tight fists as he pulls them back to his side lazily, seeming more tense now.
“I should go.” You say softly, terrified to disturb this moment and the tension that blanketed it.
“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea, darlin’.” Joel says reluctantly.
Things only get worse from then on—and maybe worse is a strong word. But, it soon turns into a game that neither of you can stop, waiting until one of you finally makes the wrong move.
-
A few weeks later and your laptop takes the shit on a random Tuesday, head buried in your hands as Sarah tries to console you, but it isn’t much use. You knew it was a stretch to think the laptop could last you through the entire semester, and with just a few short months left, it couldn’t be worse timing. 
Joel walks in at your inconvenience, keys jingling in his hands as he slips off his leather peacoat, glancing at Sarah who didn’t give him much to go off of. He folds the jacket over the back of an empty dining chair and rests his hands against the top of it, eyes scanning over the both of you at the table, one looking a little more distraught than the other.
“Everything alright?” He asks curiously, earning a subtle head shake from Sarah. He clears his throat, “Or—uh, well, how is the studying going? Feel like that’s all you two do.”
You rub a frustrated hand over your face and sigh, “I’m gonna see if I can get a ride home or something,” You tell Sarah, sliding your phone off of the table, “I’ll deal with this later.”
Joel and Sarah share a quick look of communication, her hand waving toward you sharply, forcing Joel to speak up before you make another rash decision and spend money on a long ride home when had the perfect opportunity standing right in front of you. 
“I can give you a ride home.” Joel offers, much to your surprise. 
You’ve been alone with Joel a lot now, though inadvertently.
Sarah would sneak away in her room for longer stretches of time just to call her boyfriend—which wasn’t a bad thing, but it felt odd when Joel would come home and there was no one to greet him but you. Still, you stretched your lips into a smile and welcomed him sweetly. 
Even if this was his home.
Or times when you just happened to cross each other's path, even in such a large space. Sometimes the front porch when you were taking a break to stretch your legs, his watchful gaze dragging along your figure as he sipped on a hot cup of coffee in the evening, foot stabilized on the deck as he rocked in the wooden swing he sat on, crickets chirping loudly as the sun set.
Or just a simple trip to the bathroom, his bedroom across the hall and a couple doors down, often shut, but there were moments when you opened the doors, nearly face to face, and neither of you could look away. Joel would clear his throat, excuse himself, and kindly gesture for you to walk first. It happened often, too often—but neither of you addressed it. Instead, the tension grew. And grew. Until it felt like poking a sleeping bear. So it hibernated in both of you quietly.
Part of you expected things to change, that the small moment shared in his hotel room would make things hard to navigate, but if anything—it’s easier.
“Okay.” You agree easily, not having the proper energy to fight him over it.
The ride is quiet for the most part and Joel doesn’t need the step by step directions as he knows this town like the back of his hand, but he makes a wrong turn somewhere between his house and yours and you don’t feel like something is wrong, but it definitely feels off.
“Joel, you missed the last left.” You speak up as he continues down the road, glancing around leisurely as you soon delve onto a main street, lined with several shops. “Joel—”
“I’m gonna make a quick stop,” Joel attempts to ease your worries, fingers tapping against the gear shift positioned in the center console, “if you don’t mind.”
The moment he pulls into the parking lot of the electronic store, you know. You can see it in his eyes as he squints, checking that the store is still open and pulls into a parking spot near the front of the store.
“Joel, no—” You grab his wrist suddenly, his free hand reaching for the door handle and he looks down, eyes connecting where your skin touched before slowly flicking up to you, “look—just, I don’t need you to buy me a new fuckin’ laptop. I can handle it.”
Joel’s shoulders shrug in his obnoxiously patterned shirt, like he’s working out a kink in his neck as he repositions himself in the seat but doesn’t pull away from you. In fact, his hand gradually pulls toward your knee, fingers squeezing around your kneecap comfortingly.
“Considering it a loan then?” Joel tries to bargain, “Let me help you out now so you won’t have to worry about it and you can pay me back as you get the money? I see how often Sarah uses her laptop, it doesn't make sense for you to go without when I can help.”
You chew on your bottom lip thoughtfully, staring intensely back at him. You could put your foot down and deny his offer, but the idea of suffering through the rest of the semster without your sole life line to surviving through college—well, that was actually torture.
“I’m paying back every single penny.” You tell him forthright, waiting until he nods in agreement.
“Sounds like a deal to me.” Joel responds.
Joel spares no expense, which doesn’t come as a surprise. He buys you the highest, top notch laptop they have to offer—and even as you stare daggers into the side of his face, there’s an inkling in your mind that tells you he isn’t going to allow you to hold up your end of the deal.
-
Joel liked to party too—not giant parties that felt overwhelming and unwelcoming. But, he did have a close group of older male friends that he liked to play poker with on the back deck of the Miller household.
Sarah learned to block it out early on, knowing that at some point things would get just a little too loud and not as easy to ignore. But, Joel never made you feel out of place within any of these instances. You were welcome here all the time and Joel was clear about that.
He’s showered you with gifts and accommodation and you hate the way it makes you feel special, wanted—beyond the night in his hotel room it was only innocent glances. It felt like you were misreading things, making something out of nothing.
Things aren’t great at home and you like it here—love it, even. And you feel your mind nagging away to make a stupid, spur of the moment decision. You could ignore it, but then your eyes catch Joel’s through the slight crack in the door, trapping you in his gaze like you’ve been caught doing something wrong.
He squints slightly, lips curling around his beet bottle as he takes a long swig, fist uncurling against his jeans as he rubs out his palm and smiles—he has you hooked in so fucking easy it feels pathetic.
This is wrong. You inhale a shaky breath and turn away, busying yourself with literally anything else—a scuff on the table, the chipped nail polish on your fingernails, something.
Eventually his friends filter out—and Sarah had invited you to stay over the night barring that it was the weekend and she enjoyed your presence just as much as you did hers—if only she could understand the now huge, harboring crush you had on her father. It was harmless, but it felt like a betrayal. 
And the feeling only increased as the night creeped along, your burdening insomnia keeping you awake, shifting and turning in the sheets beside her as you tried and failed miserably to fall asleep.
It was quiet out here, less commotion from the city. It was eerie, in a way. 
You slip out of the bed quietly, walking barefoot on the hardwood as you tiptoed until you were outside of her room, closing the door behind you. You weren’t hungry, so you didn’t bother with the kitchen, rather heading toward the front door that was already halfway open.
Part of you expected Joel to be sitting on the porch, no real rhyme or reason. But, even he is out of sight. The soft, well-kept grass welcomes the press of your feet as you wander outside slowly, the hug of the warm spring air on your skin even this late at night. You catch one of the Miller’s horses hanging out around the edge of their enclosure, wondering if they managed to nudge their way out of their stable. You approach slowly, still not as accustomed to them as you’d like to be. 
But, they were friendly. So, you raised a careful hand and rubbed gently at the horse’s mane, smiling at the soft huff it offered in return, leaning its snout over the fence more.
“Sunshine is always friendly,” Joel says from somewhere you don’t see, startling you out of your body as you jump, whipping your head around to look for him, eventually landing on his approaching form as he left the barn that held the stables, “—sneaky little gal, though.”
You laugh softly, finding it hard to believe that such a sweet horse was capable of escaping.
Joel whistles softly, beckoning her toward him. “Come on.” He nods, silently asking you to join him. You follow eagerly, watching as he unlocks the entrance to the fence for you to slip through, locking it behind you as you pass the threshold, catching up with Joel in a few steps.
“Don’t sleep well, do you?” He asks, heading turned over his shoulder briefly to look at you. You nod quietly, leisurely approaching Sunshine’s stable and watching as Joel locks her back up, rattling the gate for safety this time, ensuring it was secure. “Seems we have a few things in common.”
Joel stays quiet for a moment—in his own head, a deep moment of contemplation, carrying and safeguarding these thoughts he knows he shouldn’t have, wondering how your skin would feel against his palm, how the pulse of your heart would feel as he pressed his hand to the center of your chest and kissed you, full tongue and consumed your essence, this unignorable aura you had around you.
He feels sick, distraught. But, he can’t force himself to avoid you either.
“There’s somethin’ that usually helps me,” Joel tells you, hand pressed wordlessly against the center of your back as he guides you out of the barn and locks it up as well, “just goin’ somewhere quiet—lot of the time it’s just my thoughts keepin’ me awake.”
God, if only he knew.
He did, but that wasn’t the point.
Joel quiets for a moment, stuffing the ring of keys into his pocket as he glances over at the house briefly.
“You wanna go for a quick drive?” Joel asks suddenly, forcing it out before he can find a reason to stop himself.
“As long as it doesn’t end with you buying me another laptop, sure.” You chide deviously, watching the smirk grown on Joel’s face, knowing he still hasn’t taken a dollar from you.
And vehemently refuses every time you offer.
Joel drives you the path further into the land of property he owns, most of it still unexplored by you, eventually finding a clearing near the east edge, right on the edge of a body of water and a dock nestled near the shore. There’s a small boat tied to a post, big enough for a few people.
Under this light, as you exit the truck, Joel looks different.
He’s free of the weight of jewelry he wore, comfortable in his worn shirt and soft cotton shorts. For a while, Joel had been such an enigma that you weren’t sure what to make of him. Sure, he was just Sarah’s dad—but he was also Joel Miller, backbone of the town. His face was plastered everywhere. There wasn’t a single street you could traverse down that didn’t have him nestled away somewhere.
He spots a small mud puddle under your feet as he rounds the truck and quickly catches you before your feet get stuck, hands locked in yours as you jump over the small patch of wet dirt.
You let out an exasperated sigh as you look up at him, silently thanking him with your eyes.
“Can you swim?” He asks casually.
“Yeah…” You respond hesitantly, eyes locked onto the boat several feet away.
Joel releases your hands, but it doesn't matter. His touch still lingered painfully and you want nothing more than to pull him back in. But, now Joel is asking to go on a midnight boat ride with you and—really, how could you turn that down?
-
Joel rows you toward the center of the lake, your eyes locked onto the mesmerizing sight of the stars in the sky, so much clearer out here and away from the city.
“Pretty, ain’t it?” Joel asks, not bothering to look his way.
You smile slightly, leaning back onto the palms of your hands.
“Yeah, it really is.” You miss the way Joel’s gaze lingers, admiring you.
“Now—sometimes I just come out here and talk to nothin’,” Joel explains when the boat comes to a full stop and he rests the oars inside the boat, knees spread as he resting his elbows on them, “then other times I just sit and enjoy the quiet.”
Your choice—that’s what he’s implying. 
You clear your throat softly, finally changing a glance his way.
“I just—I don’t wanna say I’m jealous of what you have here,” You say quietly, “but, it really is a bitter reminder of without Sarah or you, I’d have next to nothing.”
Joel stays quiet, allowing you to marinate in thought and figure out how to convey how you were feeling.
“And—I don’t know. Selfishly, I like it.” Liked him. “But, I don’t want to rely on it and you make that a little impossible. I do have money, Joel. I can pay for things. I just don’t want you feeling like you have to do any of this out of necessity.”
“I’m not,” Joel admits, “Now—what makes you think that, darlin’?”
“I just—I don’t want anyone thinking I need to be fixed, I don’t.” You tell him, “I don’t need charity, either.”
Joel waves his fingers in a come closer motion, taking your slowly extending hands in his own, thumbs rubbing over soft skin tenderly, boring his eyes into your own.
“I’m gonna tell you this once and I need you to listen,” Joel says softly, but his voice feels so loud in the silence of the night, breeze hitting your skin and sending a sharp chill up your spine—but, you’re not how much of mother nature is responsible for that, “really listen, alright?”
You nod slowly, blinking a few times as you feel yourself shrink under his gaze.
“What I give you isn’t charity,” Joel tells you seriously, “and—maybe this is crossing a boundary I shouldn’t but, you’re somethin’ close to family. I take care of people I care about.”
Not family—he couldn’t conitate that with the feelings and thoughts he was having toward you.
“Close to family?” He was praying you wouldn’t harp on it, but you needed to confirm the underlying layer of tension that lingered between you two all the time. It was driving you insane, keeping you late into the night—he was the reason for your insomnia.
Joel smirks slightly, covering it with a quiet chuckle. His hand gradually cradles your face, rubbing along your cheek with a delicate touch, “I think you know, darlin’.”
God, he hoped you did. His thumb dragging along your plush bottom lip, eyes lingering for a brief moment before he pulls away, immediately missing his touch as he reigns himself to the idea that he may have crossed a line, quietly rowing the way back toward the dock.
Neither of you get much sleep that night anyways.
-
More time passes, lingering touches grow, and Joel is terrible at hiding his affinity for you now. Finding that those few words burned all regards he had toward keeping himself restrained around you. He had enough of a mind to keep it private—but there were comments, sweet little words that he’d whisper as you walked by or he caught you alone.
Nothing scandalizing, but just enough that it had your heart fluttering in your chest.
 Until there is a small slip up, helping the Miller’s with dinner one night as Sarah escapes to the bathroom for a brief moment, your arms outstretched into the cabinet to grab for something just out of reach.
“Use the stool, darlin’,” Joel sees your struggle, “safer that way.”
You look around observantly before you find a folded up stool tucked into the only open corner in the kitchen, taking it back to your spot and unfolding it.
“Good girl.” Joel comments quietly, catching the startled look on your face as your head snaps back toward him. And he has the nerve to smile, noticing the hitch in your breath.
And it only grows in intensity until you can’t stand it anymore, cornering him in the kitchen on a night where Sarah is already upstairs gathering herself for bed, thinking you had come down for a couple bottles of water.
Joel is nursing a small glass of whiskey and he’s silent, but his gaze tracks your movement. You move toward him.
There is a belief in you, fully realized, that something is up here.
"Joel," You lick your lips hesitantly, squaring yourself up against the counter, standing straight, trying not to seem like you were teetering near a dangerous edge of delirium, wondering if you were imagining all of this, "can I ask you something?"
There's a severe lack of distance between you two, knees knocking against each other gently from where you both stand, eyes searching out cautiously even though you know there's nothing to worry about. You were alone, something that has happened far too many times over the past few months. Lingering moments of wandering gazes, eyes connecting from across the room even if Joel was surrounded by people, partying with friends while you're tucked away in the corner while Sarah talks to you about the boys at school that you can't be bothered to give the time of day.
Because of Joel. Because your mind is so tainted by the idea of him.
His palm is flattened out against the counter, adorned with a couple golden rings that clack against the marble, gold chains to match that sat perfectly against his chest, framing the small patch of hair that peeked out over his unbuttoned shirt, silk-pressed and adorned in a silly design that somehow always managed to work perfectly with whatever Joel paired it with.
"Course," He assures you, "You need somethin'? 'Cause you know if things aren't alright at home you're welcome to stay with us."
He’s not amiss to notice just how much time you spend here and no one bothers to come around and check on you. Given you were an adult, it was still glaringly obvious you escaped here for a reason.
Joel reaches out to touch your cheek, the warmth of his skin melding with your own as your breath catches in your throat.
Touch wasn't new, but it never got old. Like a brand against your skin that screamed out for more. You look down briefly, mouth opening slightly to say something, but quickly resigns back to its previous position, lips pursed under a soft scowl.
"I can take care of you," Joel reminds, like you could ever fucking forget it, written all over your features and the outfits you wore now, the dainty gold chain that he'd leant to you as a gift when you pointed out how much you liked it—he'd bought it for himself but there was no resistance in offering over it over to you, bright smile stretching across your face in the moment that Joel felt a sickening addiction to, "—if that's what you need, sweetheart."
You nod instinctively, though you’re not sure what you’re answering too.
“We’ve got a spare room,” Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth, the huskiness to his voice shouldn’t feel intimate speaking such meaningless words, “plenty of room for you, alright?”
“Mhm,” You answer weakly, feeling the distance start to close as Joel tries—really fucking tries to fight it, but he can’t help the way his eyes track the way your body responds to his teach, lip trembling when you release it from it’s hold between your teeth, “thank you, Joel.”
“For?” Your heart is racing, terrified of being caught but also enticed by how openly Joel is admiring you, eyes wide with adoration and curiousness, something undiscovered and new to him.
“Taking care of me.” You echo his words, but you’re both quickly retching away at the sound of a door creaking upstairs, separating in an instant.
This was all you had—fleeting moments that would never be.
-
The logistics are complicated to figure out at first, but finishing up the last few weeks of schooling away from the stress of being at home and somewhere where you could actually focus outside of school made the most sense. You pack a big enough bag to last you through the month, clothes and personal belongings you care about, and make the small guest room your new home.
At least, as much as you could.
Luckily, your final classes are a breeze—thankful that most of your discipline with studying had paid off, you and Sarah would graduate in another couple weeks and allow yourself a real break over the summer before deciding how you both wanted to continue. More schooling or not, you would handle that later—for now, you let your mind rest.
And Sarah, well, she escapes the first chance she gets—the first official day free of responsibilities she’s running off for a weekend vacation with her boyfriend, assuring she didn’t mind you tagging along if you wanted to come, but you could see it on her face—she wanted privacy.
So, you had no problem staying back.
A weekend alone—with Joel? Who could barely keep his eyes off of you know that you were around constantly, even in the early mornings when he’d walk through the kitchen shirtless and fumbling with the old coffee pot he refused to get rid of. It was a side to him you hadn’t seen much of and it was slowly etching itself into your memory.
Everything implodes the first night that Sarah is gone, unknowingly yet not unwelcome. But, it’s a turning point neither of you can come back from.
It’s undeniable the amount of boiling sexual tension that has stirred between you both between Joel’s heated gaze and scandalizing comments, stuff that he tries to hold in but fails when he sees how easily of an effect it has on you.
So, as luck would have it, your restless minds meet again.
Joel stops between his open bedroom door and the wall, watching as you approach quietly, smiling kindly as you reach for the door to the guest room, bidding him a soft goodnight.
He could spend his night writhing in bed, hand around his cock as he jerked himself to the thought of you a few feet over, nestled under your sheets—unbeknownst to him, relieving yourself in a similar way and yearning for the stretch of him rather than your measly fingers. It used to relieve the ache and help you sleep, but now it made things impossibly worse.
His fingers encircle your wrist quick, but carefully, silence your ultimate downfall as you stare over at him curiously, his eyes pleading something so desperate it roots itself into your own mind. Like an invisible string tethered to your bodies, it pulls you both together instinctively.
He doesn’t hesitate with touch now, slowly barricading his hands against the side of your neck, gradually working to cradle your head, tipping your head back as he leaned in, not willing himself to cross that line unless you allowed it. He knew the second you stepped over he was done for, similarly, you knew that to be true for yourself.
“Tell me to stop,” Joel begs, “—tell me and I’ll give this up.”
You double down, pressing your face against his own, nose pressing against each other, speaking against his lips in a venomous tone that seeps into his bloodstream.
“No,” You tell him, steadfast and unwavering, “I don’t think I will.”
Joel breathes in sharply before his reverence is breaking, pressing you up against the solidness of the guest room door and crashing his lips against your own, his grip bruising as he palms at your thighs, hooking a leg around his hip as he grinds into you, the feeling dulled out by layers of fabric but you can still feel him. He’s hard and straining against the soft fabric and making no attempt to hide how much you affected him.
“We’re makin’ a big mistake,” Joel says into your mouth, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth to prove his point, pulling a sharp moan from your chest at the slight sting, “you realize that?”
You find your courage and part from him briefly, open palm rubbing against the line of his cock, slowly trailing up and under his shirt, blunt nails clawing into the stomach, the muscle tensing under your skin, “I’m well aware—are you gonna stand here and have a moral dilemma about it or are you going to fuck me, Mr. Miller?”
It ignites a fury behind his eyes, ravenous and wild. He grips your face tightly, tilting your head up at a slightly uncomfortable angle, pussy clenching around absolutely nothing from the show of dominance, the grin spreading across your face all Joel needed to confirm his suspicions about you.
You enjoyed this—him, the little game you’ve allowed him to play over the past few weeks. And just as he’d said before, he wanted to take care of you—in as many ways possible.
“Say it again,” He warns, squeezing your cheeks together between his tight grip on your face, “—fuckin’ say it.”
“Mr. Miller,” You drone sweetly, best you can through his sturdy grip, “—hm, is that what you want to hear? Is that what gets off at night?”
Joel’s eyes squint slightly, attempting to read your expression. How would you know?
“Always want me to call you Joel because Mr. Miller is just too much, right?” You tease, “I guess you could lie to me, but the look on your face says otherwise.”
The back of your head drops softly against the door, nowhere to go as Joel has you crowded, hand tight on the doorknob and unmoving. You’re trapped and you can’t be bothered to care. 
His hand trails to your neck gradually and squeezes, eyes rolling into the back of your head briefly as his jaw clenches, teeth gritting together as he bares them and speaks, “Should’ve guessed you’d like it like this, huh?”
You feign cluelessness, eyes half-lidded and staring back defiantly, swallowing against the solid hand he held against your neck. 
“Tell me you want it,” Joel presses, feeling how mutely you attempt to press against hold and fail, “need to hear you say it first.”
“What? That I want you cock, Joel?” You say vivaciously, grinning at how his mouth twitches at your words, cooing out a soft, “Because I do.”
And that’s all the confession Joel needs before he’s breaking the barrier and shoving you inside the guest room, slamming the door closed behind him with a foot as he tracks and approaches you, hauling you from the back of your thighs as your ass hits the bed, scooting back slightly and spreading your legs to allow him to slot perfectly between them. 
The fabric of your shirt bunches in his hands as pushes it up and away, lips pressing hotly against your stomach, mouthing at the skin greedily, quickly forcing the shirt up your shoulders until you get the idea and rip the shirt over your head, bare breasts bouncing against the jostling of your body. Joel has half the mind to gawk before he’s latching his mouth around your nipple, biting gently at the flesh despite his choice to be more aggressive than you expected. It’s the right amount of too soft and too much, your fingers curling into his hair at the root and pulling, earning a soft groan in response.
His curls fall freely over his eyes from where he’s looking up at you, lips lingering against your breast tantalizingly, “Let me taste you.” He tells you, his fingers dancing along the hem of your bottoms, his body descending as you find yourself nodding absently, helping him in the impatient push and pull until he has you naked and bare before him, his cock straining prominently against the thin material of his pants, rubbing himself through the fabric as he uses his free hand to spread you wide, marveling at the sight of your slick over the lips of your cunt.
Joel settles against the sheets, broad shoulders supporting your thighs as he adjusts them over him and hovers closely of your cunt, waiting for your eyes to connect in a brief moment of confirmation
You wanted this. And so did he.
He remains wide-eyed as his lips connecting with your cunt, straight for your aching clit as he sucks, flicking his tongue over the sensitive spot with a precision that has you falling slack against the sheets, mouth open in a blissful agony as Joel works away at your pussy like he’s had a million years to study it, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as you continue to pull and twist at his hair, selfishly grinding yourself against his face. 
He never breaks his gaze on your face, even when you find yourself with your head thrown back, staring up at the ceiling mindlessly, admiring the hurried rise and fall of your chest as you moan out something intelligible, slowly beginning to make sense in his hazy mind, “Oh—right—right there, Joel. Fuck, please—” You beg sweetly, feeling weightless as he lowers his mouth to your neglected hole and licks inside, his nose pressing perfectly against your clit.
“C’mon, baby,” He murmurs against your pussy, “keep talkin’, let me hear you.”
You sigh in exasperation, feeling the burgeoning ache of your impending climax, “Faster—” Joel is an astute listener, never missing a beat as he picks up his pace and adds more pressure, “–shit, I’m gonna—”
Joel silences you with his eagerness to make you come, words falling flat as he assales your clit with a determination to have you coming against his mouth, feeling the muscles spasm as you crying out his name in desperation, orgasming over his greedy tongue as he laps you up synonymously, forcing your body into overstimulation until you have to physically force him away.
Joel doesn’t have half the mind to speak, eyes darkened to near black as he rises to remove his shirt, pants and underwear following quickly after, undressing under your hazy gaze as you try to calm your rapidly beating heart before he’s fisting himself tightly, tip of his cock rubbing against the line of your pussy and catching your entrance, using the last bit of restraint he had left.
He should be courteous and ask about protection—but there’s a heat behind your eyes when you see his thoughts wandering, quickly snuffing out any worries. You reach gently for the hand not fisting his cock, cradling your knee gently, “We’re safe.” You assure him, the first moment of deep, unsettling reality as he realizes the weight of his choices before him—he’s already committed a few atrocities he knows he can’t come back from, so, what was a few more?
And he couldn’t say no to you, not with you staring up at him so wantonly, eyes pleading something desperate and meek, curious if this was all just a heat of the moment thing. Partly, it was—but this was months upon months of built up tension finally spilling into reality.
Joel isn’t sweet either, as he presses inside you. It shouldn’t surprise you, his impatient nature as he pulls you in close, hands gripping under your thighs and manhandling you until your folded nearly in half, hips pistoning sharp and rough, his gaze locked on the sight of himself disappearing inside of you, the sheen of your slick over his cock as you suck him in greedily.
“Come on, baby,” He grunts roughly, “keep showin’ me how good I make you feel. Show me how grateful you are.”
As if it wasn’t already obvious, obscene noises, feeling the quiet air as you sob out, feeling the angle change as he shifts his knee by your ass, angling your hips up slightly.
“Thank—thank you,” You say softly, broken as he snaps his hips roughly, hitting something sensitive inside of you, the coiling heat in your stomach rebuilding quickly, “thankyouthankyouthankyou,” You ramble mindlessly.
Mesmerized, you watch his curls bounce freely over his forehead, overgrown hair sticking to his skin from the soft sheen of sweat, the muscles in his broad shoulders straining as he holds your legs prisoner in his grips, hips aching dully from the unusual angle but you ignore it. He’s locked onto your pussy for a long stretch of time, entranced until he hears your soft moans, realizing you’ve been admiring him this whole time, eyes locking on you in a moment of vulnerability as he speaks directly to you, hips slowing to a manageable, but still slightly overwhelming pace.
“Always—know how to appreciate things, isn’t that right?” Joel asks, the redundancy not lost on you, “Take everything I give you and never ask. Never greedy—just lettin’ me spoil you.”
“Joel—” You whine, his hand slowly trailing the path to your joined bodies, thumb circling slowly over your clit briefly, “—harder, fuck me—harder.”
“But, look at you now—so fuckin’ greedy for my cock,” He’s speaking through a slight groan, releasing the straining hold on your thighs as he falls, spreading his legs out and using his arms for support as he holds himself over you, hands fisting into the sheets beside your head, “gonna make me cum, baby.”
You find yourself desperate for touch now, wrapping your arms around his neck until he’s nearly chest to chest, forehead resting against your own as you whimper into his open mouth, “I want it.”
Joel makes a small noise of question, “Want what, baby?”
“Your cum,” You reply softly, watching the way his pupils dilate at your words, “—please?”
Joel groans involuntarily, feeling the dignified squeeze of your walls around his cock.
“Where?” He asks slightly breathless, panting into your mouth.
You reach blindly for his hand, using his pointer and middle finger to breach your lips, pressing flat against your tongue, “Right here.” You mumble around the thick digits.
It’s the first thing you’ve ever explicitly asked for and who was Joel to deny that.
Joel pulls out quickly, rising on his knees as you push up to rest on your palms, his head hung back as he fucks himself into his hand harshly, a few short pumps and he’s pressing the aching tip of his cock over your tongue, spilling into your mouth with a deep growl, forced through clenched teeth, working himself through the aftershock as he squeezes out the last bit of cum he has to offer into your waiting mouth, forcing your mouth closed with his opposite hand and watching as you tilted your neck up and swallowed, tongue peeking out playfully as you show him your empty mouth.
You have half the mind to think he’s finished, but instead he’s swatting your thigh as he maneuvers your hips until you realize he’s silently asking you to turn over, quickly situating your ass in the air with his strong, domineering grip—burying his face into your cunt without a moment of hesitation, a gasp ripping from your throat. Your hips pull away instinctively out of shock, earning a sharp slap by Joel’s hand against your oversensitive cunt.
“Stay still.” Joel demands.
You answer softly, a pathetic acknowledgement and nod, obeying his order.
“Good girl,” He coos, muffled against your cunt, “Come for me, baby—you’re right there, I can feel it.”
There’s little resistance as his tongue swipes over your clit, sending you into a shorter but immensely more consuming second orgasm, feeling yourself lose consciousness for a brief moment as you sob into the sheets.
“Fuck.” Joel sighs as he rests back on his calves, cock softening between his thighs as you roll onto your back gingerly, thighs shaking from strain, feeling Joel’s comforting touch on the aching muscles as you close your eyes, letting the reality of the situation set in. 
You laugh giddily, “Yeah, fuck.”
Neither of you address the glaring issue of what just took place and somehow, that feels like the biggest atrocity to be committed. 
-
Secrets weren’t something you used to harbor, but it seemed like that was all you had now.
Sneaking off with Joel, lying to Sarah—it was the last thing you wanted to do. But, you and Joel had each other in an equally debilitating grip that neither of you could loosen up on.
And with secrets came gifts, more and more outrageous as time went on—big ticket items that had you fearing that, at some point, Joel would drop something like a new car on you—and that, for what it was worth, would help you. But, it was nothing you wanted. 
Sex started to feel transactional after a few more weeks, graduation creeping on you.
Joel never lacked in care and attentiveness, but there was this nagging feeling in the back of your mind, like you were this unattainable prize he was paying for and you were eating right out of the palm of his hand.
But, then graduation day approaches and Joel is acting odd.
So odd that it unsettles you. He’s there, along with his brother and his small family, cheering as loud for you as he does for Sarah, the obvious absence from your own family never lost on you or him. Then, night approaches.
He’d decided that throwing a party for the both of you in celebration was a good idea, just a small party with very few friends and he swore—swore that there was nothing else up his sleeve until he’s pulling you and Sarah off together, away from the party and there is a pair of matching, new cars parked in the driveway.
Sarah, given she already has everything she wants, is still thankful. It’s the one thing she had been trying to save up for herself, without the help of her dad. So, while she could be upset, she isn’t. She knows Joel’s intentions are good and that he’s just trying to be a good father—which is all he’s ever been for her.
But, for you, it stings. 
You linger, settled a few feet away against his beater of a truck, staring at the car like it was an eyesore.
She doesn’t like it. She hates it, Joel thinks. 
You thanked him regardless, but refused the keys. Joel had stuffed them into his pocket and allowed you the space you wanted, eyes pleading quietly. Sarah had hugged you gently, kind words left in your ear before she departed back inside.
“You’re like family,” She says with genuine love, “and he has more money than he knows what to do with—so honestly, just take it. You deserve it more than anyone.”
And that hurts worse, knowing that you’ve been lying to her for months. 
You weren’t family. Not to Joel. You were something much more convoluted and dangerous.
A drug. A trap. Something he couldn’t rid himself of, not that he desired to. But, he knew—once you were embedded into his life, it would be nearly impossible to get you out.
Joel finds you a while later, away from the party and beyond eyesight from the house, curled up against the front end of the truck and picking away at some of the ripped denim of your jeans, counting the frayed pieces. He takes a similar position, sitting next to you silently.
“You don’t have to take it,” He tells you, “but, it is paid for—”
“Joel, please—”
“What?” Joel asks suddenly, his own annoyance getting the better of him, “What am I doing wrong?”
“Joel—we have sex, you buy me something ridiculous. Or, you buy me something ridiculous without my knowledge and then we end up having sex, how does that look to you?”
“Now, I’m not doing that because of sex—”
“But, you see how it looks? How it makes me feel?” You argue with him, “Joel, I can’t help how I feel about you, like—it feels physically impossible, but the constant gifts makes this seem transactional. I don’t want that. I’m already a secret, I don’t need to be bought either.”
Joel shakes his head in silent disbelief, “You really think that’s how I view you? That’s it?”
“You haven’t tried very hard to make me think otherwise, Joel.” You tell him honestly, “I don’t need you showering me with cars and clothes and shit that I don’t need—and if that’s what you feel like you need to do, I don’t want to do…whatever this is anymore.”
Fucking him, sneaking around in secret. You weren’t dating, but it sure fucking felt like it. One intimate moment from a love confession that would seal the deal on your perception of him.
Joel kicks at the gravel as he rises to his feet, pulling you up by your forearm, an immediate look of both confusion and frustration crossing your features as he turns you and presses your chest against the front of his truck, shadowed by the cover of night. His belt clanks together loudly as he undoes his jeans behind you, tucking them far down enough he can pull his cock from the confines of his underwear, lifting up the hem of your dress and yanking your own underwear down your legs and off, and you should stop him—but you don’t want to.
This was the problem. You couldn’t get enough of Joel. 
He slips inside of you with ease, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest that he stifles with his hand, clasped over your mouth, fucking into you with a reverance that was new.
“Joel—we’refuck—we can’t here,” You try to say, yanking his hand away from your mouth, “we’ll get caught.”
Joel grips the base of your neck roughly, fingers curling around the sides as he tilts your head back and looks into your eyes, other hand coming around the bottom of your chin until you’re forced to look up and back at him, not a single speck of warm brown in sight. He looked angry.
But, it didn’t feel like it was directed toward you. Regardless, he fucked you like he was.
“I’ll return the fuckin’ car,” He starts to ramble, “I’ll return everything if that makes you think differently. God—” He snaps his hips harshly, earning a broken sob from you as you reach behind you blindly for something to anchor yourself on, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt, “—never want you to think this is transactional, baby. It never—never was.”
Never would be, you want him to say.
“Whaddya want me to say?” Joel asks before you can speak, “That I care about you—baby, I fuckin’ do. I thought that was obvious. Know—know I shouldn’t, that it’s wrong, but I knew—”
You gasp raggedly, his hand leaving your chin to find your clit, just the right amount of pressure to have your hands clawing at his skin, head resting back against his shoulder as he fucked into you.
“And I’ll keep this a secret if—if it means I can have you but this isn’t transactional,” He continues to speak, despite your inability, tipping over the edge of your orgasm as his hips stutter slightly, “it never will be.”
That—that was what you needed to hear. Pulling him taut against you as he buried his mouth into the junction of your neck and nipped, biting at the skin roughly but not enough to break skin.
“Come inside me,” You gasp, chest rising and falling quickly, “please—Joel, please?”
“You like when I fuck you like this, don’t you?” Joel teases, “Never ask for anything but my cum—greedy girl,” You moan at his words, spurring him even further, “tell me baby, tell me how much you want it.”
“So bad,” You whine, “Joel, please give it to me—fuck—all of it, please?”
Joel snaps his hips a few more times before his hand is releasing your neck, crossing over your chest and squeezing tightly at your breast as he pulses inside of you, pumping his hips and filling you full of his spend.
Joel kisses at the exposed skin of your shoulder, pulling out with a soft grunt, the slow jingle of metal sounding behind you as you reached for the underwear he offered you, slipping it back up your legs and into place, despite how Joel’s cum dripped out of you, something he makes point of as his fingers drag along the material, causing you gasp softy at his touch, swatting his hand away. He chuckles lowly at the annoyed glare you shoot his way.
Joel shifts your hips until you turn in his grip, back pressing against cool metal. He crowds you in again, leaving you feeling breathless as he grips your face, but his touch is surprisingly tender.
“What do we say?” He says softly, lips pressing against your own.
“Thank you,” You retort sarcastically, capturing his lips in a quick, bruising kiss as you card your fingers into his hair at the base of his neck, pulling gently, “this doesn’t change anything—I don’t want the car.”
“You don’t have to take it,” Joel settles, “but it’ll be here if you need it.”
You pull away further, looking at him endearingly, watching as his eyes flick briefly toward the house.
“What do we do–about this?” You ask quietly, afraid someone might be listening in despite being alone, “About…whatever this is.”
“Hey,” Joel assures gently, “don’t worry about that—not tonight.”
“Joel—” You plead, eyes searching desperately into his own.
“I care about you, that’s all you need to worry about.” Joel speaks truthfully, his thumb rubbing along the line of your jaw as you swallow, muscles tense under his touch.
And you’re wondering if he’s just saying what you want to her—that maybe this was still a game to him and he was letting you feed into it, nodding to his confession. Joel is all in, offering you his metaphorical hand.
You sigh shakily, “Okay—I trust you.” So please, don’t let me down.
And you know things will eventually implode, but you intend to hold on the brief moment of hope you have now, safe under his gaze as he leads you back to the house, everyone blissfully unaware of the moments you’ve shared, leaving you resigned to appreciate the greedy looks his shares with you across the room.
It was a dangerous game, but you were willing to take the risks.
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edgessunflower · 2 years ago
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Austin Powers Masterlist
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Groovy love
You're so shagdelic
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obessedwithfictionalmen · 9 months ago
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Co-Stars
Callum Turner X Actress! Reader
Sumarry: Y/n and Callum's best moments that made the internet panic!
Waring: use of Y/n/ Swearing/ kissing/
A/n: This story is not related to the childhood friend to lover one.
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To say they had chemistry off screen would be an understatement. Y/n and Callum were getting along too well-off screen. It sparked rumors of them dating their multiple interviews were made into short YouTube videos that were tilted: Y/n and Callum flirting with each other for 4:24 minutes. In those videos, we could see their best moments.
-
‘’You obviously get real woman to dance with you, Austin you get Meatball the dog’’ the interviewer stated. Y/n chuckled as she looked at Austin. ‘’Yeah, Meatball is an amazing actor, great dance partner, but heavier than you think. But don’t tell him that.’’ He answered. ‘’Yeah, don’t tell him that’’ Y/n and Callum said at the same time, making them giggle. ‘’Did he do boot camp?’’ the interviewer asked. Austin was saying his answer, but a joke came to Callum’s mind. ‘’He did bark camp’’ he said. Y/n laughed at his joke, but since the tree actors were tired, they all started to laugh for minutes. ‘’I’m so sorry’’ Y/n said, laughing. She put her hands on Callum’s thigh to stop her from falling off her chair. ‘’Don’t fall’’ Callum laughed. Since she was between the two boys, they both tried to catch her, they succeeded, and they were able to calm down.
-
After this interview, people started to talk about how they said the same thing, how Y/n laughed to Callum’s joke and how Austin was third wheeling. But when they did a group interview, the speculations jumped.
-
‘’Obviously, it’s a men cast, but we do have some amazing woman as well, boys can you talk to us about that’’ Josh, the interviewer asked. The crowd screamed when Barry pointed to Y/n and mouthed that she was amazing. ‘’I mean, Y/n is just amazing. The way she bodied her character and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind and yeah, it was astonishing. We were all impressed by her performance in episode 3’’ Austin said. She thanked the blonde. ‘’Like Austin said, I remember in one of the scenes in an upcoming episode, we watched her act and we felt intimated by her, cause her character is badass and this powerful woman, she’s not afraid to yell at someone and seeing the sweet, polite Y/n, I can say it, it’s in the trailer, but fake punch a guy that was two times taller than her was impressive as fuck’’ Callum said. Y/n blushed; she remembered the day they shot that scene. ‘’Yeah, when Gary said cut, they were all looking at me like, so impressed of what I just did, it was fun.’’ She added.
-
The comments following that interview were about the fact that she blushed after Callum’s compliment. Paparazzies were trying to get them to talk about a possible relationship, but the two actors denied anything between them. Even the other actors were getting asked if there was anything between Y/n and Callum. It was starting to become a problem, but the P.R team thought it was great to promote the story, so they didn’t do anything to shut the rumors down.
-
Drew Barrymore was sitting next to Austin, they were having a moment, Y/n and Callum were starting to feel left out. But now, Drew was talking about her date that she has tonight. ‘’But what if you get weird vibes from the start?’’ She asked. ‘’Then run’’ Y/n and Callum said at the same time, making them smile. ‘’You two are always timed, you both say the same thing, all the time’’ Austin laughed. ‘’We’re connected.’’ Y/n says. ‘’But back to your date’’ Callum said as he put his arms on the couch, but it went behind Y/n’s shoulder, it was like he was putting his arm around her shoulder. ‘’I mean, Y/n what would you do?’’ Drew asked. ‘’Uh, just enjoy the dinner, it’s a date, have fun! And you have Austin to save you. Or Callum and I could go at the restaurant in disguise, in a fake date, to help you.’’ ‘’Is that just an excuse to take Callum out on a date?’’ Drew teased. Y/n starts to laugh, Callum too. ‘’Moving on!’’ Y/n said, while laughing.
-
But what really sparked the rumor to the max, was when the went to the premiere of Master of the Air. She was dressed in a black one suit, but the top was a black corset, she looked amazing and sexy. The hole cast was looking good, but when Y/n stepped on the carpet, she got out the same car as Callum and they both had red cheeks.
-
‘’Now we saw you getting out of the car with your co-star, but you guys have been really close during the press tour, can you tell me about it’’ The interviewer asked to Y/n. ‘’I mean, he’s an amazing person, and I love him. People are just going crazy over us’’ she said. Callum went to behind her. ‘’What are you talking about, baby?’’ he said. Y/n rolled her eyes at the nickname. But she decided to go along with it. ‘’We were talking about you, honey. About our amazing chemistry’’ she said. They both chuckled and finished the interview. ‘’The internet is going to blow up with what you just said. You’re not very subtle, baby.’’ She said, teasing him. ‘’I mean, we’re pretty obvious now that we’re together’’ he says in her ear. ‘’Should we give the internet what they want?’’ she asks. ‘’I’ve been waiting for this’’ he said, grabbing her waist and kissing her. The crowd yelled when they both kissed, finally announcing their relationship…
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incendiobrock · 7 months ago
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The Driskill Hotel {Chris Sturniolo}
Summary: fem!reader x bf!Chris go to Austin, Texas with Matt and Nick to film a video for Sam and Colby's channel at the Driskill Hotel. The reader is very sensitive to the supernatural and gets convinced to do the elevator ritual alone... What could possibly go wrong? ;)
Warnings: anxiety/panic attacks, ghostly encounters, fear of elevators, language, FLUFFFFF
A/N: I know this video is from awhile ago but I've had this idea and couldn't stop thinking about it. I started my page with imagines like this for Colby x reader and so I wanted to throw it back to my roots and make a Chris x reader (because I'm a die hard Chris girl)
Part 2??
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You had been a fan of Sam and Colby for years, enjoying their content and being fascinated with their supernatural findings. There was always a part of you that was convinced you had a special connection with the supernatural, feeling extremely vulnerable and tethered to their world. Maybe it was due to your empathic nature, or maybe you were a undiscovered medium that hadn’t tapped into your powers.
You never tapped into your "abilities" because you were scared of what could possibly come from speaking to the dead. But when Nick, Matt, and Chris (and yourself) got asked to join in for an XPLR video on Sam and Colby's channel, you all knew that you couldn't pass it down. This is what led you all to Austin, Texas where the historic, haunted, Driskill Hotel was located.
The night had started somewhat normal, you all walked through the hotel with a tour guide where she explained the history of the building as well as the ghost inhabitants. Throughout the tour you would catch glimpses of shadow figures on the wall, hearing inaudible voices, and being extra sensitive to smells like cigar smoke and roses. The fear was definitely building inside of you when you observed that none of the rest of the group seemed to be experiencing the same things you were. You did your best to hold it together, knowing the triplets were excited to be included in the video, and not wanting to ruin your own experience of an inner fangirl being on an XPLR trip.
As the tour wrapped up and the night went on, Sam and Colby began to lead the investigation portion of their video. You stayed glued to Chris' side, feeling comfort in his presence, even with everything going on around you. Chris held an EMF reader in his left hand as his right hand was busy interlocking your fingers, running his thumb over your knuckles soothingly. He couldn't tell if you were nervous or if you were just trying to hone in on filming the video since you were all a guest to Sam and Colby's channel.
You and Chris stayed slightly behind the group as you made your way over to the elevators on the main lobby for the next part of the video, the elevator ritual. The elevators had already been acting up earlier in the night, not wanting to take you guys up to the floor you had requested. Elevators weren't necessarily your favorite inventions, a slight irrational fear of being stuck in one or one falling with you inside.
"Matt, the ghosts seem to really like you. Maybe you should be the one to do the ritual." You heard Sam say, observing how the EMF in Matt's hand continued to light up to red as they crossed through the grand lobby. As you passed by the receptionist desk you saw the figure of a tall man dart across the wall, making you subconsciously squeeze Chris' hand out of fright. "What's up baby? You okay?" Chris asked softly, pausing in his tracks to check up on you.
"Did you see that?" You asked him back, hoping that maybe you weren't going as crazy as you thought you were. Chris furrowed his eyebrows, glancing around the rotunda, trying to see whatever it was you were talking about. "See what?"
You let out a shaky breath, your palms becoming clammy as all the supernatural sensitivity was beginning to catch up to you. The hand that was holding onto Chris' disconnected as you rubbed the sweat on your pants, "I keep seeing shadows on the walls..." Chris frowns at your reply, wrapping his arms over your shoulders and pulling you into a hug. His lips pressed a firm kiss on your forehead, "I won't let anything hurt you, I promise."
"Chris! Y/n! You guys coming?" Colby asked, staring at you two from down the hall where they had stopped in front of the elevators. "Yeah we're coming, sorry!" Chris responded, gently pulling away from the hug and instantly wrapping his hand back in yours. As you stood in front of the elevator doors Sam explained to the camera, and to all of you, what the elevator ritual would consist of.
"y/n, will you do the honors?" Sam questioned, pulling your out of your trance and causing your jaw to drop open. "Huh? What?" You stuttered, not registering what he had elected you to do for this ritual.
"Do you want to do the ritual?" He rephrased, looking at you with big, hopeful eyes. Your body tensed at the thought, not only did elevators terrify you, but you had already been experiencing paranormal things the whole night. "You don't have to if you don't want." Chris said, breaking the short silence that filled the room, knowing you were already on edge and trying to stand up for you in case you were wary about doing it. "Uh, yeah, I think I could do it... I would just need to write down the order of the floors." You said, uncertainty filling your voice.
"Awesome! I'll text it to you." Sam said, beginning to type up a message to send to your phone. A lump began to form in your throat as you awaited the notification being sent to you. Chris gently rubbed your lower back, doing his best to calm your anxiety without bringing too much attention to your state, understanding that you didn't like when others were aware of your intimate emotions. Your phone vibrated in your hand, looking down to see the message;
12:00AM
Sam: 4, 2, 6, 2, 10, 5, 1
"Okay it's exactly midnight, you have to start now." Colby said, pressing the up button and watching the elevator door open. You took the camera from him, not saying a word as you faced the elevator. You swallowed the lump in your throat, knowing there was no way you could back out of this now. Stepping into the elevator you instantly felt chills run up your spine.
"Now remember, when you get to the fifth floor a lady might join you. If she does then when you try to come back down to the lobby the elevator will actually go up to the tenth floor, that's how we will know it worked. If it comes back down to one then the lady didn't enter and the ritual failed." Sam said, reminding you and the audience how things were supposed to go.
Shakily, your finger made its way up to press the number four, officially beginning the ritual. The door slowly shut in front of you, keeping eye contact with Chris until you couldn't anymore. The elevator rose and the door opened, nobody was there. Floor two, nothing.
Sixth floor.
Second floor, again.
Tenth floor.
Then finally, the fifth floor. Your breath caught in your throat as the elevator door opened unusually slow, revealing an empty hallway. 'This is just a game', 'It's not real', you tried reminding yourself as your heart beat uncontrollably inside your chest. You waited for a couple seconds before pressing the button for the first floor, praying that this stupid ritual hadn't actually worked. The doors shut and the elevator began to descend back to the first floor, allowing you to let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. "I guess the ritual failed guys," You lightly giggled talking into the camera, feeling relief wash over your whole body.
"Woah!" You yelped, almost dropping the camera as the elevator slightly dropped, the lights inside flickering. The screen above the door signaling that you were on the third floor. Before you knew it the elevator came to a halt, stopping dead in its tracks on the third floor.
"What? Oh no, no, no, no, no..." You whispered, panic rising inside of you as you dropped the camera to the floor and made your way to the control panel. You smashed the button for the first floor over and over again, hoping the elevator would start to move again. Nothing was happening however, the buttons not even lighting up when you pressed them. You began to reach into your back pocket for your phone, pulling it out to call Chris.
The dial tone played as you dropped to the floor in a seated position, legs shaking beneath you. After three rings Chris' voice filled your left ear, "Hey babe, why did you stop on the third floor? We were waiting for you to come back down-" He said quickly before you cut him off.
"Chris! The elevator is stuck! I don't know what to do, I'm freaking the fuck out!" Your breath became labored as you heaved in and out, feeling like no matter how much air you inhaled it wasn't reaching your lungs correctly. "Woah, woah. Okay, calm down please! Just breath alright? Listen to my breathing!" Chris instructed, knowing you were on the verge of a panic attack.
He let out slow, steady breaths of air while your vision began to blur with tears. Your head started to heat up and your ears began to ring, "I-I can't Chris... I can't breathe!" You huffed, clenching your hand over your aching heart.
"The elevators stuck, somebody go try and find someone to help!" You faintly heard Chris yell to the other boys, holding the phone away from his ear so it wasn't directed to you. "Yes you can, I believe in you babe. Nick is going to get some help, okay? Just hang in there." He continued to comfort you through the phone, coaching your breath back to normal as Nick found an employee. After five minutes, which felt like an eternity to you, the elevator doors where being pried open. The elevator had stopped just barely off center to the second floor, making the door inoperable on your side.
When the doors were finally opened you couldn't help but let the tears you had been containing fall, all the overwhelming fear catching up to your eyes. The employee held out a hand for you as you jumped the three foot distance onto the second floor lobby, landing slightly unsteady as the tears blurred your vision. Chris rushed over to you, faster than you had ever seen him move before, pulling you deep into his embrace.
"There, there, I got you. I got you, don't worry." He said, running his big hand through your hair. Your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, scared that he might disappear if you didn't hold him close. Tears stained his jacket sleeve as you buried your head into his shoulder. You both stayed like that for awhile, the others watching as you crumbled into Chris' arms.
Once you had finally cooled down, you all sat on some couches that were in the main lobby. You drank some water that Nick had brought for you as you stayed by Chris' side, his arm wrapped over your shoulders. "Y/n, I am so so sorry that the elevator got stuck. I had no idea that was going to happen and I feel horrible. I didn't realize you were scared of elevators." Sam apologized to you, feeling guilty that he had put you in this position in the first place.
"Sam, it's not your fault! How would you have known the elevator was going to get stuck?" You said sincerely, appreciating his apology even though he had nothing to do with the unfortunate situation.
"If you guys need to call it a night and go back to your hotel, we completely understand." Colby said, offering to end the night where it was instead of finishing out the investigation. "No, it's okay. I'm good now, really. There's no need to scrap the rest of the video just because of me." You reassured, wanting the boys to finish the video they had put so much effort into already.
"Are you sure?" Chris asked you.
"Yes, I'm sure. Now who's ready for the Estes Method?"
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earthpleasures · 8 months ago
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SIMP OF CENTURY !
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Percy Jackson x fem!child of nyx!reader
Summary: Your reserved personality sparked curious thoughts in Percy's mind for years. Whenever he tried to get close to you, it backfired on him. But Hero of Olympus was never taught to give up.
Warnings: swearing, reader described as having 'night-like dark eyes'
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: I haven't watched the pjo show, which means Percy's character and looks are based off the books. Louis is just a fan cast. I adore Walker, and I think he's such a good actor. So if you wish to imagine Percy as show Percy, you're free to do so! <3
dividers by: @benkeibear
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"when I saw her walking down the street
she looked so fine, I just had to speak.
i asked her name but she turned away"
- mmm yeah by austin mahone, pitbull.
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Everyone in the Camp Half-blood liked Percy Jackson, the most influential figure of the Second Titan War. Y/n did too, but not in the way young boy wanted. She saw him as a hero, no more of that. Which made Percy yap about her next to Annabeth's ear. Blonde could swear goddamn Seaweed Brain had no fucking dignity when it comes to Y/n. 
Being one of the children of Nyx, she was powerful. She was powerful yet in the background. He still remembered the scary ass encounter he had with her mother, Goddess of Night warning him to stay away from her daughter. 
Percy ‘impertinent’ Jackson never obeyed a word of Gods, said goddess being a primordial goddess didn't change his view of Immortals. Of course he was a little scared though, not of a goddess but of an angry and protective mother.
“To left! TO LEFT! HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GUYS FORGET ABOUT Y/N!?” Connor screamed his lungs out as Y/n ran to the red flag. Her keeping quiet for most of the game caused all other red team members to forget about the girl's presence. 
Percy took a breath as he charged towards her. His sword touched her back, threatening her to step away from the flag. “C'mon, stars. We both know how this is gonna end.” She wet her lips and sighed. “Yeah, whatever.” She stepped away from the flag. Percy was about to smirk with victory when she rushed towards the flag again. 
Without thinking a second, he threw his body over hers, preventing her from grabbing handle. “What the fuck Jackson!?” Her angry voice rang through the area as they rolled on the soil together. His legs straddled her. “Looks like we ended up on top of each other again.” He said, referring to all other games. Y/n narrowed her eyes as her lower suddenly lifted from the ground and threw the boy over her body. “Arrogant bastard.”
She ran to the flag without allowing herself to catch her breath, leaving Percy behind who's groaning with pain on his back. “Damn, girl. It hurted.” He mumbled as he stood up. Last thing he saw was Y/n smirking at him with her knuckles wrapped around the handle of the red flag. She let herself fall into the shadows of the flag tower and mix into the darkness. 
She was only child of Nyx that could shadow travel properly and was allowed use it only once during game since it would be unfair to other campers and game wouldn't really have a meaning as long as she played. And of course she kept it for this moment. 
He cursed as he heard the honk announce the victors, tearing a few pieces of grass and throwing them to air. “Well, at least we had physical contact…” He pouted, trying to console himself.
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“Hey, what's up, stars? Drawing the moon again? Can I see it? Please?” He spoke quickly, afraid she would disappear into darkness as usual. Girl looked up to him from her sketchbook. Sparks of little stars illuminated her night-like dark eyes, passed to her from Nyx. 
“Don't you have better things to do, Jackson? Training new kids, doing your shit as one of the ‘Counselors’? Or better, go mourn your loss and your back.” 
Her voice was bitter as ever. Y/n didn't really have any friends in camp. It wasn't that she had distaste for others, socializing wasn't her thing at all. However she never acted rude when someone reached her for help. Only ‘friends’ she had were her siblings. Being their counselor, they had to speak to their oldest sister even if they didn't want to.
He narrowed his eyes. “That's rude. You almost broke a few of my ribs.” Y/n raised her eyebrows with eraser on her hand. She spoke while getting rid of a crocked line from the white paper. 
“Sounds like a you problem, my ribs seem to be perfectly fine.”
“And also, looking at my schedule, I have all day for you.” He smiled, green eyes reflecting the sunshine. She gave him an uninterested stare. “Good for you then?” Percy knew damn well that expression on her face. She's going to disappear again. He exclaimed her name. His fingers wrapped around her wrist before she became one with shadows. 
He shadow traveled before, he knew the feeling. But it didn't relax his senses as his reflexes screamed to kick and escape. When they arrived at their destination, it was dark everywhere. His brows furrowed unintentionally. “Where are we?” Y/n looked really troubled with his presence being next to her. “What the hell is wrong with you!? Why would you stick to my wrist like a leech!?” He smirked at her distressed state. 
“Only a leech for your attention.” He winked.
“If you keep talking like a fuckboy, you will experience my affection right on your cheek in a very violent way.”  
“Yes ma'am.” 
He put his hands to his hips as he inspected their surroundings. Giant green pine trees were surrounding them, not a sound coming from the forest besides wind hitting branches. “So, back to my previous question, where are we?”
She bit her lower lip as if she didn't wanna answer the question asked. “Uh, we're kind of… on the other side of the world?” Percy's face went completely blank. “What?” 
“We're in a country where it's night right now.” He stared at the moon shining above them, the weather was clear enough to see the stars with bare eyes. “Really? That's quite exciting, which country are we in?” She thought for a second.
“Turkey.” He couldn't help but snort. She pressed her lips together at the strange choking sound he let out. “If you're going to make that immature ass joke I am gonna leave you here and never come back.” He tried to retain his serious look after hearing her not-so-fully-threat sentence. He knew she would actually leave him here with no mercy. 
“Okay, okay. Jokes aside, this forest is the definition of peace.” She looked around them, smiling at the beautiful view while inhaling the clear oxygen. “Beautiful places are always hidden by the ugliness of metropolises.” His gaze locked on her rarely seen eased-up face. “Yeah, it's beautiful…” 
“I travel to places where it's night whenever I feel the pressure of a stressful day or when I am trying to escape your boyish remarks.” Percy put a hand on his chest and fake gasped. “How dare you call them boyish? I put my whole heart into them!” She let out a low toned giggle, keeping quiet to not to disturb the rest of the animals. 
“I apologize for my rudeness, Mr. Jackson. I haven't noticed that you poured your heart into wasted attempts of flirting.” Percy sat on a fallen log, tip of his foot digging into fresh soil. “They're not wasted attempts. Nothing is wasted when I do it for you.” 
For the first in their years of banters, Y/n was taken aback. “I… appreciate your efforts Percy. But I just don't get what makes me so valuable in your eyes. I am not the strongest swordsman in camp, or the most beautiful girl around. I don't return your flirts or compliments. It's strange to see you never give up on… me.” 
Percy looked into the depths of her eyes, green eyes holding more than just interest ignited in his heart. “I don't care about how beautiful or how strong you're. I care about who you are. I care about the girl who can't help but chuckle when she sees owls flying around her, I care about the girl who helps anyone in need of her, I care about the girl who makes incredible drawings.” With languid movements, he stood up from the log he was settled on. His calloused hands gently reached to her, fingers interlocking with hers.
“I always kept my efforts on you because you never said anything about me harassing you. If I ever sensed you being uncomfortable around me to the point you can't stand my presence, I would've stopped. Hope kept me going.” Her confused expression softened as his sentences progressed. She could feel her eyes watering, tears were ready to overflow and roll down on her cheeks. 
“Percy…” His finger rubbed her palm, grayness from the pencil smearing his thumb too. “I am so sorry Y/n. For making you feel distressed in a place where you should be secure from all threats. I've never been flawless and i-” 
His eyes shoot open when soft, cold lips pressed against his. Her hands clutched on his orange t-shirt, eyes closed as she let herself get lost in sensation. Soon enough, he came to his senses too, hands flying to cup her cheeks. 
When they parted he laid her forehead against hers, she let out a chuckle. “You look so red, like my rose drawings.” He embraced her, not giving an answer to her teasing. All he needed was to feel her skin against his and inhale the scent he has been longing for years. His face buried on the crook of her neck. “Y/n?” 
She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Yes?” 
“I think I am gonna faint cause my heart is beating abnormally fast.” 
“What- PERCY! OH MY GODS!” 
Her shock filled shriek echoed through the whole forest, six feet tall Percy Jackson collapsed on her. “Are you kidding me!?” She did the first thing that came into her mind, took him back to Camp Half-blood.
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Percy opened his eyes, the ceiling of the cabin welcomed him. “Fuck, it was all a dream again.”
“Woah, you dream about me?” 
Young boy let out an almost girlish scream as he pulled his blanket over his chest like he tried to protect his pudicity. Y/n grimaced. “Goddammit Percy, roosters are amateurs next to you.” His ragged breath slowed down when he saw the very face that was the star of his ‘dream’. 
“You aren't dreaming, I kissed you, so-”
“WE'RE DATING NOW!?” 
And that was how all residents of Camp Half-blood learned about their relationship.
Upcoming days, Percy was like a limb of her. Eighty percent of his time was spent with her, the other twenty percent he was yapping about her to Grover and the rest of the Seven. 
Contrary to what she thought, days turned weeks, weeks turned months, months turned years. Percy kept torturing everyone around him about his girlfriend, his fiancée and his wife. 
And maybe they weren't Immortal, but through generations, Camp Half-blood remembered the lovesick couple of 21th century.
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schlattslonghairytoes · 25 days ago
Text
can i come over?
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when schlatt moves to texas an unexpected storm leaves him with no where to go, will you offer up a room to your friend?
streamer reader x streamer schlatt
you had lived in texas since you attended college at texas a and m
orginally you went to ithica college, but you transfered during your sophmore year
you now had your own apartment as you were out of college
you knew a couple of other content creators who lived in the area, but not many
your closest friend, ted nivison, lived in los angeles, but you went to visit him every now and again
your phone rang, "gangnum style" blasting in your ears and groaned, you reached for your phone, only to be met with a picture of you and theodore from college freshman year
"i need your help guppie." teds face filled the screen and his dopey smile made you laugh
"you woke me up mr grouper." your nicknames came from the first time you got high together and decided to watch bubble guppies
"wakey wakey! does this fit look ok?" he set the camera down and walked away from the camera, he did a little spin before grabbing his phone again
"yes you look very fashionable theo. can i go back to sleep now?" ne nodded but very quickly realized he had something else to tell you
"wait really quick, remember schlatt? you met him during the lunch club era" you scanned your sleepy memory trying to remember this guy you probably met once.
"um, tall right? good looking?" ted nodded and laughed, sitting down at his desk
"glad to hear thats what you remember. anyways, im pretty sure hes moving out to Austin in the coming months, so you guys should talk cause he only knows a handfull of people out there." ted said
"cool. can i please sleep now." your tired brain did not care for this random man barely remember.
"yes, reach out to him ok?" he smiled at the camera
"yes theodore kennedy nivison junior. love you. byeeeee" and with that you ended the call.
you didnt really think about teds call all that much, untill around 3 months later you recieved a text from an unknown number
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even though schlatt then tried ghosting you, ted finally convinced him to man up and keep talking to one of the few people living where he was soon moving
over the span of a month you two had been constantly talking, to the point where you were starting to consider him as one of your closest friends
you would facetime atleast once a day, text everyday, and you even streamed twice together on your account
you were getting very excited to have a new friend so close by
then came the storm.
you lived alone with your dog, and you knew your house would not be ready for this shit.
you stalked up on food, blankets, flashlights
basically anything you could get your hands on
and you bunkered down at your house with your dog, getting ready to thug the next few days out
you were scrolling on your phone, on the first night of the storm, power already out, house fucking freezing, and you see schlatt had posted on his snap story
you open it to find a video of him yelling outside of a completely dark marriot
screaming about how thats where he is supposed to be staying
and you were getting very worried, like your new friend who youve never met in person, might deadass freeze to death.
so you did what any caring soul like yourself would do
you swipe up on his story with your address and a follow up message saying "pull up to mi casa papi 🍆 "
and hope he would hurry so you could go to bed
around twenty minutes later you layed cuddled with your dog bundled in over ten blankets
when felt your house fucking shake with how hard schlatt was banging on your door
you walked downstairs, and opened the door, to a giant, shivering, and covered in snow schlatt, who you immediatly wrapped in a hug and dragged upstairs
"c'mon lets get you nice and warm." you brought him to your room where you turned your bed into a nice warm spot for him "i have some clothes for you, they were my brothers so they should fit" you smiled up at him
he hadnt said much yet and you could see the stress seeping through his face, he dropped his stuff and kinda just hugged you.
"you ok?" you laugh as he pulls away from the hug. he smiles sadly before sitting down on your bed
"ive been better ill be honest" he laughed quietly.
"some first day here huh?" you pat him on the back, trying to comfort him.
"you could say that. holy shit i thought that was a stuffed animal" he says looking at your dog
"go change dumbass, bathrooms on the right" you watch as schlatt takes the clothes and walks to your bathroom, you think you even hearhim flick on the light switch.
"do you want a flashlight?" you yell out to him, to which you get a small "please" back in return, you laugh and leave a flashlight infront of the door
you get comfy in the small sofa in your room, as schlatt was not going to fit on it, and your other bedroom was turned into your office. but you didnt mind him taking the bed
he came out of the bathroom minutes later and quietly shut the door behind him when he turned around he was looking at you kinda funny
you began to ask what was wrong before he cut you off "absolutely not, im not kicking you off your bed, get up" he towered over you on the sofa
"schlatt shut the fuck up, your not fitting on this thing, i barely do."
"you have a king size bed, were sharing, me you and that oddly stuffed animal looking dog c'mon get a move on" he got into the bed and waited for you and your dof to follow him
you laughed and made your way over, your dog following closely behind. you flop down onto the bed and look at the man laying next to you
"crazy this is the first time we're meeting" he says getting comfy
you lay another blanket on the both of you as your dog jumps up on the bed and lays between the two of you "im glad ted introduced us" you take a moment to inspect him
you two had called on discord many times and FaceTimed, but nothing lived up to the real thing.
"im really happy he introduced us too."
guys i kinda hate how this turned out
sorry 😣 😥 😦 😧 😨 😪 😢 😞 😰 😿 🫤 ❤️‍🩹 ☹️ 😐
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