#construction time & demolition
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make a move on me
â pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k
â You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.
â Rated MA for babyâs first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20âs, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of âslutâ, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]
â This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joelâs shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.
Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Donât fret over the pretty little thing whoâs been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.
If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the jobâor, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But thereâs a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishmentâthat savors the teasing.
The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he canât blame you for this whole mess. He shouldnât be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.
But god, you make it hardâdouble entendre intended. You walk around like you havenât a care in the world because you donât; youâre home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.
Joelâs a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But youâre not exactly making it easy on him.
Really, itâs Tommyâs fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel mightâve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and thatâs the beginning of the downward spiral.
The brothers are both lounging on Joelâs couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that theyâre more staring at than actually watching. Itâs late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarahâs gone off to bed.
Tommyâs eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. âThat girlâs gonâ be trouble for us, brother.â
Thereâs a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommyâs talking about you without any specification.
Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. âSheâs always wearinâ those skimpy little outfits aâhers, and she ainât coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starinâ at your ass even more than I catch you starinâ at hers.â
Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.
He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isnât you.
But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.
Thereâs not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.
The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and youâre brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once wouldâve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.
Joelâs jaw hurts that night from the way itâs been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.
It doesnât work.
The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but itâs a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isnât you.
You see the labor heâs going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didnât reward his efforts?
It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. Itâs made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesnât know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.
And then itâs cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. Youâre like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.
All the while you traipse around the house like a mirageâhumming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joelâs stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joelâs ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. Youâre the worst temptation Joelâs ever had to face.
It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.
But thereâs no respect in your eyes. Thereâs nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.
Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you donât?
And really, the whole thing is Tommyâs fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with youâgives you the perfect opening to pounce.
Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.
Heâs just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.
âGood morning, Joel,â you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. âNo Tommy today?â
He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure youâre actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanityâ
âN-no. Heâs sick,â Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, âthatâs my shirt, isnât it?â
You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you donât know exactly what youâre doing.
âOh, it mustâve gotten mixed in with our laundry!â The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. âHereââ
You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breastâ
He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. âSâalright, darlinâ. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.â
âOkay,â you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. âCan I get you anything? Water maybe?â
He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and thereâs sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.
He realizes, with startling clarity, that heâs at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension thatâs spread thicker than butter between you and him. Heâs got a choice to make, and itâs not going to be an easy choice.
âSure.â It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. âSure, sweetheart. Thatâd be great.â
âAlright,â you say with that damned giggle again. âIâll be right back.â
As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. Itâs so much easier to think straight when youâre not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.
Heâs got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, youâre practically begging for it.
But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl thatâs definitely too young and too pure for someone like himâbecause he knows that if has you, heâll never be able to get enough.
Thereâs a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joelâs never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.
Heâs got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bagâmostly used for plumbing fittings, but itâll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.
You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think heâs disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He canât do this, this was such a horrible idea, heâ
Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns youâre still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.
He doesnât give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.
You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like thatâwith a startling moment of clarityâthat this isnât going to be enough. Heâs going to take, and take, and takeâgorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks youâll actually enjoy his greed.
âJoelââ
âTell me you donât want this,â he murmurs as his lips break away from yoursâso low and soft in your ear it canât be anything but a growl. âTell me you donât want this, and Iâll stop right now.â
âI want it,â you affirm.
He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. âFuck.âÂ
Heâs so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like youâre nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and thereâs an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. Itâs messy and frenzied and desperateâyour hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.
âWas starting to think you werenât interested.â Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.
âIâve been tryna convince myself mânot,â he kisses into your neck. âDidnât work.â
With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He canât be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and⊠suddenly you canât focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what youâre working with.
Your hand just barely fits around him. Heâs thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his lengthâyou think heâs seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. Thereâs a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. Itâs porn star materialâyou didnât know real people had dicks like this.
âJoel⊠Jesus, thatâs gonna be a tight fit.â
âOh, donât worry darlinâ,â he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. âIt ainât goinâ in there.â
Thereâs nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. âWhereâŠâ
âFlip over fâme.â
You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.
You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. Itâs like youâre on display for him, for his appraisal. Youâve still got shorts and a bra on, yet youâve never felt more exposed.
Itâs almost like he can sense your mind swirlingâmaybe itâs because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against youâyou can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.
âYouâre so damn beautiful,â he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. âBut I made myself this little promise that I wouldnât fuck you. You got me actinâ so unprofessional, honey.â
You whine at the sincerity in his voiceâall youâve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this.Â
âYou can fuck me,â you whine earnestly. âItâs okay, I promise. Wonât tell.â
âMmm, I know. Youâre too good a girl to go gettinâ me in trouble over somethinâ like this,â he humsâyou can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. âBut with all the teasinâ you been doinâ... donât rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.â
âPleaseââ
âHowever,â he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, âmight be willinâ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.â
He pauses to let you ask, âWhat conditions?â
And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But heâs spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and youâve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. Itâs like youâve been silently asking him all this time to take it.
His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where heâs been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he canât describe coursing through his veins.
âYou ever taken someone here before?â
âN-no.â He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hipâthat excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You havenât run away screaming yet, and thatâs the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.
âI think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttinâ up with all your play,â he growls into your ear.
Itâs fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. Itâs even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.
âYou say no right now and Iâll drop it,â he murmurs so sweetly. âDonât ever have to talk about this again.â
Youâre shaking your head before heâs even finished talkingâa sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.
âItâs only right,â you affirm. âGotta make it up to you for how naughty Iâve been.â
His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. âAtta fuckinâ girl.â
He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.
He canât resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. âShe wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ainât gettinâ any.â
It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.
âGonna get you nice and ready, I promise. Mânot gonna hurt you, baby girl.â
âThank you, daââ You almost lost yourself there for a secondâalmost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slipâyou simply clear your throat and try again. âThank you, Joel.â But you arenât nearly as smooth as you hope to be.
In a flash Joelâs free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. Theyâre so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.
âWhatâd you call me?â
âJ-Joel.â
His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeezeâhis jaw is set, you know he isnât playing. âTry again, and tell the truth this time.â
âD⊠daddy.â
You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he wonât let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.
âGood girl,â he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. âWasnât so hard, was it?â
You canât do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. Itâs tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever couldâve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.
Joelâs jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and heâs barely even started. âFuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelinâ daddyâs fingers gettinâ you ready for his big cock?â
The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. âTalk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how youâre feelinâ, or Iâm gonna stop.â
âFuck!â Itâs shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you werenât so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. âDonât stop daddy!â
âFeels good, yeah? How long has daddyâs little slut wanted to try this?â
But thereâs no way you can be expected to answer, not when heâs adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and youâre thinking about just how many fingers heâs going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.
He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.
He canât help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly heâd dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like itâs been years since you left the room on that little errand for himâdefinitely not the barely ten minutes itâs actually been.
âRelax, baby girl. Iâm cominâ right back.â
You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. Itâs met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.
âAtta girl.â His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. âDoinâ so good fâme.â
âDaddyââ
âI know,â he coos. âI know, itâs so much, isnâit?â
All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruelâalthough he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.
Everything is so hot. Thereâs a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.
And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.
Within seconds youâre comingâno pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second thereâs nothing more than pleasant anticipationâthe next, youâre shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joelâs name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.
He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.
âI know, I know,â he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. âYouâre doinâ so good baby, let yourself have it.â
Itâs minutes before youâre breathing normally againâyour legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joelâs hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; itâs like heâs mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.
âDoinâ okay?â He husks into your earâand then heâs folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.
For some reason, thatâs what really makes it sink in. Thatâs the moment you realize that this is actually going to happenâthat you want it to happen. Joelâs about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. Youâre offering it willingly, even.
You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. âMhm. Iâm ready, daddy.â
âFuck, thatâs my girl.â He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs wonât be able to support you through whatâs about to happen.
Thereâs a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. âThat how you want it, baby?â
Despite everything thatâs already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. Youâre completely naked, and heâs fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.
Heâs beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. Heâs firm and toned, but thereâs a softness about him that you canât help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you donât know that youâve ever seen someone so turned on before, and itâs a heady rush of power.
He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him inâhe raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. âYouâre so pretty, baby, look so good spread out fâme like this. You sure youâre ready fâthis?â
âFuck yes,â you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and thatâs more than enough for him.
He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and itâs actually intimidating like this. Heâs so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, butâ
âMâgonna go slow, okay?â He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. âGonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and weâre done, âkay?â
âOkay,â you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell heâs being sincere. You trust him; you know he wonât hurt you.
The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. Heâs big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him itâs a tight fit. You can tell itâs affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that heâs fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you donât even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and itâs a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.
He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. âGod damn baby, youâre so fuckinâ tight. You doinâ okay?â
You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words wonât come. Itâs such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.
Itâs nasty, and youâve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.
âShit baby, youâre takinâ daddyâs cock so well,â he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.
You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound youâve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. âFuck daddy!â
âI know,â he coosâyou think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. âI know, you wanna come, dontcha? Itâs okay baby, daddyâs gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.â
His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what youâre used to, but itâs good. Itâs amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.
âSuch a good fuckinâ girl fâme,â he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. âFuck, mânot gonna last long like this. Youâre gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.â
His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. Heâs not trying to prolong it anymoreâheâs going for the kill.
âFuck daddy!â Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. âW-want it, please, want you to come in my assââ
âGonna give it to you, impatient girl,â he growls deep in his chest. âYou gimme one first.â
Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.
âShe wants tâbe stuffed so full, doesnât she?â He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. âBet sheâd love to be chock fullâa cock right now.â
âJoelââ
âNow, now, baby, no whininâ. Itâs unbecominâ for such a sweet little lady,â he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. âYouâre gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?â
âYesyesyespleaseââ
His fingers have barely returned to your clit before youâre coming again. This one is even more powerful than beforeâa hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable wavesâthe words youâre panting arenât even discernible English anymore.
The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything youâve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.
Itâs a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groanâit makes you giggle, because itâs the most over-dramatic sound youâve ever heard in your life.
Thereâs a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments itâs just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.
And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in.Â
âIâm feelinâ a helluva lot better after sleepinâ in, whatâs so funnyââ He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.
Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. âWell, well, well. What have we here?â
You donât know how to answer when youâre so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think ofâyou dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.
â beta: @fhatbhabie dividers: @saradika-graphics
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Contracted Fling {Joel Miller x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 14.8k
Warnings: Secret affair, rough sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), semi-public sex, mentions of loss, miscommunication, fight, Joel being sexily violent, make up sex, morning after
Comments: Hired to renovate your parents house, Joel finds you irresistible. Engaging in an affair that turns complicated and scratches beneath both of your pasts.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
Itâs not a bad gig. Not all things considered. The house isnât in terrible shape, it just needs updating and homeowners arenât the type to squabble if Joel uncovers some problem that will take more time and money to fix, they just want it to be done right. A true rarity in construction.Â
Then thereâs you. Heâs old enough to know better and youâre young enough to have moved back into your parentâs house one week after demolition had started. You are a bonafide distraction and trouble all wrapped up in a pretty little package. Right now, heâs moving the little box of your bathroom shit into the hallway to continue to tear the tile out. Trying not to look down into it and see what you use when the smell of your shampoo drives him crazy.
When you moved back in with your parents, you felt like a failure. Your ex boyfriend had cheated on you and you were living in his place. You refused to stay in his apartment a moment longer so you packed your things and left. Moving back home, you plan to save enough money to get your own place but for now, youâre happy to be home.Â
Especially when youâre greeted with the sight of Joel laboring around the house. Heâs older, beard salt and pepper with streaks of gray through his hair. Heâs unbelievably hot in a DILF kind of way, and you want him. Itâs been a while since you had sex. Your ex hadnât touched you and you wondered why until you found him balls deep in the colleague he said was âjust a good friend.âÂ
Joel is working on removing the tile in your bathroom, his brother downstairs is working on the tile in the kitchen, and you walk past the bathroom, eager to catch a sight of him. The way his plaid shirt stretches over his shoulders makes your mouth drool.Â
âHowâs it going?â You ask him when he pauses his demolition, leaning against the doorframe in the short shorts youâve taken to wearing around the house since he arrived.
Joel glances at your legs and then straightens, groaning slightly and reaching for his handkerchief to wipe the sweat off his face. âShould be done with the demo by tomorrow.â He tells you. âYou can still use the bathroom tonight though.âÂ
You cross your arms, biting your lip as you watch him roll his shoulders. âCool. You and your brother seem to know what youâre doing. My parents made a good choice picking your company. You need some water? Iâm heading downstairs to grab a coffee before I get back to work.â Youâve been working from your childhood bedroom, able to work remotely.
âSure.â He wonât turn down water, especially enjoying the view when you turn around to walk to the stairs. âThanks.â He calls after you, frowning slightly as he swears your ass shakes just a bit and his cock twitches. âSheâs not interested in you.â He grunts to himself, listening to you bound down the stairs and call out a âhelloâ to Tommy when you go into the kitchen.Â
You come back about five minutes later with your coffee cup and you hand him a bottle of water, your fingers brushing his as he takes it from you. You stand there, watching as he opens the bottle and tilts his head back to down half the bottle, his Adamâs apple moving. Your mouth falls open slightly and you swallow down the drool. God, heâs so hot and he doesnât even know it. âIâll be in my room if you need anything else.â You try to say as innocently as possible and you turn to walk out of the bathroom with your cup of coffee. Youâll keep pushing him, see if he breaks, and if he doesnât, you know he doesnât want you.
âThanks.â He lifts the bottle and watches as you walk away again, hissing slightly under his breath. You have been prancing around the house in short shorts and tank tops with your tits on display, giving him a good fucking view of the body you have. It makes him want to bend you over the bathroom sink and fuck you, but itâs your house, you can wear what you want. Heâs just a guest here.Â
****Â
Itâs been two weeks since Joel and Tommy started working on your parentâs house and you have been frustrated by Joelâs presence. Every night, when the house is quiet, you rub your clit and imagine Joel taking you hard over the under construction kitchen counter. Today, his brother Tommy, is sick and itâs only Joel who is working on the kitchen floor. You work in your room until you decide to seek out a snack, making your way downstairs to the makeshift pantry. âHey Joel. You want a snack?â You ask and you bend over to see whatâs in the box your mom left in the corner.
Joel groans and grits his teeth together. âYeah.â He grunts. âWhatcha got?â He knows what he wants to snack on. Itâs right in front of him, bent over and all he has to do is just pull your shorts down and pull his cock out of his jeans. âAnything good?âÂ
You rifle through the snacks and hold up a couple of options over your head. âChips or cookies?â You offer and he says âchips.â You take the cookies and stand up, tossing the packet over to him. You lean against the dining table and watch him shove a chip into his mouth. âSoâŠhowâs the work coming along? Must be hard without your brother here to help today.â
Joel snorts, rolling his eyes playfully and shrugs. âBetter, donât have to listen to him whine about dealing with his pregnant wife.â He jokes. âCravings and cramps and aches and pains.â He shoves his hand back into the bag. âTold him just to fuck her good when sheâs complaining, but that might be why heâs expecting a kid.âÂ
You wince slightly at the mention of his sister in-law being pregnant. A sensitive subject for you but Joel doesnât know that. You chuckle after a second, fiddling with the bag in your hand. âBeing a woman isnât easy. Being pregnant, well thatâs the hardest thing. Not that I- I donât have kids. From what Iâve heard.â You explain, âyou guys are doing a great job. My parents are already happy with your work. Youâre good with your hands.â You compliment saucily, licking your lips of cookie crumbs after taking a bite.
Joel lifts a brow at your comment and stares at you for a moment. âI am good with my hands.â He agrees, staring at you in challenge, waiting to see what else will come out of that mouth of yours. Trying not to think about what he would like to put in that mouth. How you would react to that.Â
âWhat else are you good with?â You ask, biting your lip as you wait for his reply. He leans against the counter, crossing his arms and the chip packet is still in his hand.
âLots of things.â Joel brags, smirking at you slightly. âWhat are you interested in?â He asks, setting the bag down on the counter and crossing one leg over the other at the ankles as he waits for you to answer.Â
You set the bag of cookies down on the kitchen table and brush off your hands, taking a step towards him. âLots of things.â You hum, walking towards him, ânot sure if youâre interested in using them on me but I sure have imagined it enough times.â
Itâs an invitation, one that he hadnât expected but he damn sure appreciated. He doesnât move, just arching a brow at you as he licks his lips. âTake off your shirt.â He orders.
Your parents arenât home. Itâs only you and Joel. You canât deny him when he looks at you with those dark brown eyes, his gaze burning into you. You reach down to grip the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head to expose your lace bra. You know he wants you to take that off too and you want to make the first move so you reach behind you to unclasp it, letting it drop down your arms to fall onto the floor heâs been working on.
He grunts, his cock twitching and hardening in his jeans. Finally uncrossing his ankles and standing straight as he steps closer to you. âYou have pretty tits.â He compliments, palms itching to touch them. âNow I want to see your ass.âÂ
How can you deny him? You reach down to unbutton your shorts, knowing heâs in total control. He could leave you high and dry and humiliated but the look in his eyes tells you heâs going to give you exactly what you want. You push your shorts down along with your panties and turn around as you kick them away. Looking over your shoulder at him, you smirk. âLike what you see, old man?â
You have a fucking gorgeous ass. He wants to slap it and he huffs as he pins you against the counter, newly installed by him. âUnbutton my pants and find out.â He orders.
Your stomach twists with anticipation and arousal and you reach down to unbutton his jeans, snaking your hand in to wrap your fingers around his cock. âFucking hell.â You gasp in shock. Heâs huge. Thick and throbbing in your hand. âIs that - I donât know if thatâs gonna fit, Miller.â
Joel chuckles quietly and smirks at you. âDonât think it will, little girl?â Youâre a grown ass woman, but your fingers tighten around his cock when he calls you that so he assumes you like it. âI think it will. I think youâll take every inch and scream my name.â
You pull him out of his jeans and squeeze him, starting to slowly pump him as his hands cup your tits. âBig words. Big words Iâm not sure you can fulfill.â You taunt him, licking your lips as you clench around nothing.
He huffs and reaches for your waist, pulling you up to shove you onto the counter and spread your thighs. âThat right?â He grunts, squeezing your thigh before he slides his fingers to your core and finds you dripping wet. âI think itâll be nice and slick.â
âFuck.â You whimper when his fingers find your clit. âYou wanna find out?â You ask breathlessly, grinding back against his hard cock. âJoel. I need- I want you to fuck me.â
The next moment, Joelâs too busy lining up and pushing inside your hot, tight cunt to even think about birth control. Groaning as he pushes deep, he doesnât stop until he's bottomed out inside you and one hand slaps down on the new granite countertop.
Your gasp echoes in the kitchen, your eyes sliding shut as he stretches you out. âHoly shit.â You whisper, âoh my God. Youâre - I think youâre in my guts.â You admit, unable to believe how he feels inside of you.
Joel growls, loving how tight you are squeezing him. âThatâs the point, little girl.â He reminds you cockily. âTo let you feel it.â He pulls back and then slams back into you.
Your head drops back, your mouth open in a silent moan as the delicious friction slams you into the counter. âI feel it. I - fuck - I feel it.â You pant, eyes opening as you turn your head to look at him, loving the way his dark eyes seem almost black with his desire for you.
He start to fuck you, quick hard thrusts that have you gasping his name while your hips bang against the counter. Reaching up to cup your tits and squeeze harshly before pinching your nipples.
âShit. Shit. Shit.â You hiss as he fucks you hard and fast. You cover his hands with yours as much as you can, making him squeeze your tits even harder. âJoel. Feels - better than I imagined.â You confess in a squeal when he kicks your ankle to spread you wider so he can push impossibly deeper.
âGonna- fuck, gonna make you scream.â He huffs, nearly out of breath from how hard heâs fucking you but his hips donât stutter and he doesnât slow down. âWant to hear you scream.â He bites down on your ear and lets go of one of your tits to rub your clit.
Your hands slap down on the counter and when his calloused fingers find your clit. âOh my - fuck!â You squeal, thighs starting to shake as he pounds into you, rubbing your bundle of nerves. You havenât been fucked like this in - never. Youâve never been fucked like this. âYes. Yes. Yes! Iâm gonna - oh shit. Youâre gonna make me cum.â You confess in a wheeze as he rasps in your ear, âthatâs it, little girl. Want you to soak my cock.â You shudder and your palms slide on the counter, slick with sweat as he works your body higher. âIâm gonna - Joel!â You shriek as you cum, clamping down on his cock.
Joel growls again and the slap of his hips against your ass becomes even more frantic, fucking you through the high of your orgasm and chasing his own. Groaning filthily into your ear at how tight you grip him, making his hips stutter as you ride out the pleasure. âGonna give me another?â He hisses in your ear, still rubbing your clit. âGonna soak me again and scream. I know it, I can feel it.â
Most men wouldâve already been pushing deep and spilling inside of you but Joel is still going. Your jaw is dropped and senseless moans of obedience fill the kitchen as you wordlessly promise him youâll cum again. His hips press against your ass, no doubt leaving bruises from the brutal way your hips are hitting the quartz counter. His fingers rub your clit and he slaps it after a few seconds. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he continues to ruin you. âGonna - yes. Again.â You gasp out, walls starting to flutter around his cock.
His back is killing him and his knees feel like they are turning to rubber, but he doesnât stop. Addicted to the way your body splits open for his cock and your walls hug him close. âThatâs it. Cum for me, you naughty little girl.â He groans. âTightest little pussy Iâve ever fucked.â
His raspy words send you over the edge. âOh fuck. Joel!â You sob his name out, loud enough for the neighbors to hear as he fucks you by the kitchen window. You clamp down on his cock, soaking him and your knees give out but he presses you against the counter while he frantically fucks into you. âCum inside of me. Itâs safe.â You promise breathlessly, slumping down to rest your upper body on the cool counter as he continues to ram into you.
Joel grunts, his body curling around you and he holds onto the counter as he pounds into you. Feeling his own orgasm getting closer with every thrust while you clench around him. âFuck, fuck.â He growls into your ear. âGonna fill you up.â
âYes yes yes. Do it. Oh God. Fuck me. Fill me up.â You beg, wanting to hear him when he climaxes. You turn your head to look at him, his jaw clenched as he rocks into you. âCum for me, baby.â You plead and thatâs his undoing. He grunts as he cums, his cock twitching while he paints your walls with his hot seed.
Joel closes his eyes, his forehead pressed to the nap of your neck as he rocks his hips shallowly. Making sure every drop of his cum spurts inside of you until he is done. âFuck.â He hisses, enjoying the wave of pure bliss that floods his body and he pants to catch his breath. âYou good?â He asks after a moment.
You nod, trying to catch your own breath. âSo good.â You confess, looking back at him when he lifts his head from your neck. âDidnât expect that to happen today but Iâm glad it did.â You giggle and caress his forearms as he clings to you.
He pulls out of you slowly, not wanting to hurt you. Rocking back and reluctantly letting you go so he can tuck himself back into his jeans. âFeel a lot lighter now.â He snorts, snagging a paper towel to wipe you up.
âMaybe you can focus on the floor instead of watching me walk around in these tiny shorts I had to dig out of my case to tempt you with.â You giggle, reaching for your panties after he tosses the paper towel. âTook you long enough to make a move, Miller.â
Joel snorts, âmaybe, spent enough time thinking about bending you over the bathroom tub.âÂ
You chuckle, grabbing your bra after pulling your tank top back on. âMmm, now that sounds like a good time. You promise to do that?â You tease him, âbut seriously, I want more sex if you want that. Nothing serious. Some fun and youâre - youâre the hottest man Iâve seen in a long time. I donât want strings after what happened with my ex. I want to have fun. You up for that or is this a one time thing?â You gesture between you, wanting him to make a choice on if this happens again.
Joel contemplates your offer and shrugs. âSounds like I would be a fucking idiot to turn down sex.â He folds his arms over his chest. âEspecially with a woman as gorgeous as you are.â Heâs not the best at paying compliments, but he likes the way you smile when he says that. You are gorgeous and you want him to fuck you, the least he can do is make you feel good.
You step closer to him, leaning in to kiss his jaw, âI gotta get back to work but Iâll see you later. This is gonna be fun.â You squeal as you step back and stride off to the stairs, making your way up to your room. Joel huffs, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head. Youâre going to be trouble.
****
You bite your lip as Joel works on tiling your parentâs bathroom today. His shirt is off, leaving him in a tank top, a chain hanging from his neck, and you keep walking past to get a glimpse of him. âStop starinâ.â He orders and you lean against the door frame.Â
âCanât help it when youâre teasing me all day with those arms of yours.â Your cross your arms, letting your eyes trail down his body as he stands to turn and face you. His brother is downstairs working on the half bath and you know he canât hear you flirting with his older brother.
âYou gonna let me fuck you on my lunch break?â Joel asks, smirking as he looks up from the mortar line he is laying. âTommyâs running some errands so Iâm gonna just stay here and eat my sandwich like a good boy.â He chuckles when your thighs press together on instinct.
You smirk, âyeah? You gonna have your cake and eat it too? You know Tommy wonât be gone for too long and I canât be quiet so you gotta be quick to make me scream your name and cum before you finish your lunch.â You step into the bathroom and lean on the vanity, pushing your tits together so they meet his gaze when he looks up at you again. âYou think youâre up for the challenge, old man?â
âI could make you cum on my tongue now, little girl.â He growls, eyes dropping to your tits. âThen just fill that little pussy with my cum while heâs gone.â Joel smirks at you with glee, âbut I donât know if you can be that quiet.â
You inhale sharply, âI could try. You could keep me quiet. Use your fingers or - or my panties.â You test him, wondering if heâs bold enough to do this while his brother is downstairs. âI can be good.â
Joel chuckles quietly and drops his trowel into the bucket and groans slightly as he climbs to his feet. âHand me your panties then get up on the counter.â He orders, grabbing his rag to wipe his face. âAnd spread your legs.â
You giggle, glad you are wearing a dress today while pushing your panties down, handing them to him, and you shift to sit on the vanity he installed the other day, spreading your legs. Heâs so hot, his muscles moving while he wears that tank top and his jeans tight around his thighs. He shifts to stand between your legs and you tilt your head to kiss his chin.
Joel pushes your dress up even more, pleased that you are so eager to give him what he wants. He tilts his head down to press his lips to yours briefly, not really kissing you a lot but you havenât chased kisses either so he wonders if you dont really like it. Balling up your panties, he smirks as he holds them to your lips. âOpen up, little girl. You canât make too many noises while I eat your pussy.â
You eagerly open your mouth for him, wiggling on the cool surface as you impatiently wait for his next move after he pushes the lace into your mouth. Itâs dry and you swallow around them, cheeks full of the material and your eyes meet his as his hands trail along your inner thighs, a whine of need is muffled by your underwear.
âSo impatient.â He chides, pinching the inside of your thigh slightly and then soothing it with a small rub. âNow-â he grunts as he kneels back down. âYou need to be quiet.â
You watch him, eyes dark with lust as he leans in, his hot breath washing over your wet pussy. Youâre always so turned on around him. Youâve never experienced this kind of attraction to someone before. Youâre like a magnet to him. You whimper around the material when his tongue slides through your folds.Â
Joel doesnât hesitate to lavish attention on your cunt, spreading your thighs apart with his hands you seem so obsessed with. Groaning at the first and second whimpers that you give him. You havenât asked him for this, but he wants to, wants to have you cum for him. Loves making you cum and your thighs shake around his ears.
Your head tilts back to hit the wall where he hasn't installed the mirror yet. Your eyes closing as you arch your back so he can access more of you. You moan around the panties, his thumbs spreading your lips to suck on your clit.
Your thighs press his head and you roll your hips down, making Joel groan into your folds. You arenât screaming yet, your moans are muffled by your panties and itâs thrilling. The door into the bathroom is still opened and your parents could come or Tommy could walk in at any moment. His eyes flicker up to watch your face as he sucks.
You couldnât care less if someone sees you right now. His tongue is magic against your clit. Harsh but perfect as he sucks and licks. His fingers slide along your thighs, pushing your thighs back out to give him room to make you fall apart on his tongue.
He doesnât rush you, keeping the rhythm of his tongue steady and he flicks his tongue against your hole before sucking on your clit again. Groaning quietly as he devours you.
You pant around the pace, your chest heaving as he works you higher. His tongue flicking and lapping then he sucks on your clit and your thighs start to shake around his head. His name is muffled as you moan it as you get closer and closer. When he pushes his tongue deep, curling it and his nose presses against your clit, you fall apart. Your cry is silenced but he knows youâve fallen over the edge by the way your thighs squeeze his head.
He can feel the rapid pulse of your heart pumping blood through your veins and he loves it. Keeping his tongue curled up inside you, his curved nose pressed against your clit as he feels your arousal flood his tongue. Your thighs squeeze his head and he huffs slightly when your fingers grip his hair, not letting you push him away just yet.
You whine around your panties when it becomes too much, his tongue languidly swiping over your clit but you're too sensitive. Your hands finally succeed in pushing his head away and he smirks up at you, cocky because he made you fall apart under his tongue.
âJoel!â Joel can move fast when he needs to, lurching to his feed and out the door while you are still sprawled on the counter. Tommy pauses at the door to the master bedroom.Â
âYeah?â He grumbles slightly. âDamn near thought you cut a finger off. Whatâre you yellinâ for?â Tommy snorts at the grumpy attitude of his older brother and shakes his head.Â
âIâm headed out, you sure you donât wanna grab a burger?â He offers, making Joel shake his head.Â
âNah, packed a lunch.â He smirks. âEven have dessert, ate that already though.âÂ
You scramble off of the vanity, shoving your dress down and spitting out your panties to shove them in your bra. Your face is burning from nearly getting caught but your pussy is throbbing from arousal at the fact that his brother nearly caught you. Tommy stares at his brother, eyebrows raised at his shiny chin, but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to when his older brother stares at him as if to say 'don't you dare.'
Tommy holds up his hands and smirks slightly. âAlright..uh, you should finish up the tile in there today?â He asks, nodding to the bathroom.Â
âYeah.â Joel nods and shoots daggers at his brother, wanting him to leave. âHave a good lunch.â He tells him pointedly.Â
Tommy shakes his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips. He isn't dumb. He's seen the way you and Joel look at each other and he doesn't care so long as your parents don't get pissed and blame the company for Joel fucking their daughter while doing the renovations. He's happy that Joel is finally getting some. It's been a couple of years since Tess died and he deserves some happiness after so long. Tommy leaves, purposefully slamming the door shut and you come out of the bathroom, "oh God. He knows, doesn't he?" You ask Joel, slightly mortified.
âTommyâs not stupid.â Joel answers. âHe wonât say anything.â He wonders if you would want to stop now, ashamed that someone other than you and him might know. He grins at you and glances down at the slight bulge under your shirt. âStill not wearing any panties?â He asks lecherously. âDo you want me to fuck you in the bathroom or bend you over mommy and daddyâs bed?â Heâs half joking, but he would do it if you wanted.Â
You smirk, loving that he isn't put off by his brother knowing. "Oh God. I want - the bed. Want you inside of me. Want you to fill me up." You confess, knowing how wrong this is but your pussy is dripping as you stare at him, chest heaving.
âLay down at the end of the bed.â Joel orders, reaching down to unbuckle his belt to unbutton his jeans. âGonna put your legs up on my shoulders and fill your pussy with my cum right there on your parents bed like weâre fucking rebellious teenagers.â The fact that Joelâs not too much younger than your parents doesnât matter, you make him feel younger.
You obey immediately, laying down on the bed and you shove your dress up to your waist. You watch him unbuckle his belt, his cock hard and aching as he pulls it out. You never get over the size of his length. âFuck me, daddy.â You tease, spreading your legs for him.
âFuck, do you want me to stay hard?â He huffs, pumping his cock in his hand and rolling his eyes at you. You giggle, not remorseful in the least and he shuffles forward. âIâm going to make you scream now that we are alone.â He warns with a smirk.
You moan when he slides his cock through your folds. âPlease.â You whimper, your stomach clenching as you look up at him. âWant you to make me scream.â You demand, your hands caressing his forearms. He notches his cock at your entrance and grabs your wrists, lifting them over your head to press them into the mattress as he pushes into you.
âSo goddamn tight.â He hisses. âBest little pussy Iâve ever fucked.âÂ
You love his compliments. Heâs not a man of many words but fuck, heâs so sexy. Your feet are behind his head as he lifts your calves onto his shoulders, practically folding you in two as you take his cock. âOh my God. I think youâre in my throat this time.â You pant, closing your eyes.
âGood.â He huffs, rocking his hips forward sharply as he moves your legs up from his waist to his shoulders. Leaning forward, he braces his hands on the bed, flashing a smirk before he starts to destroy your pussy.
You moan when he starts to move, pushing deep and hard. âYes yes yes!â You squeal, your head tilting back and you close your eyes.Â
âLook at me.â He demands, âfucking - keep your eyes open.â Your eyes flutter open and you look at him above you, his jaw clenched as he rocks into you. He stares down at you, his jaw clenched as he fucks you hard enough to shake the bed, the headboard starting to bang against the wall. âFuck, dirty little slut.â He grunts. âSo desperate for my cock youâre letting me fuck you on your parents bed.â
âYes. Your - your slut. Oh God. Your cock. Only your cock drives me to do this.â You cry out, âso good. You - you fill me up so well.â You moan as he grinds deep into you. âJoel. So - so fucking good.â You cry as he fucks you hard and fast.
He can feel how close you are, bending down even more so he can press his lips to yours and the short hair above his cock grinds against your clit. âCum.â He demands breathlessly. âWant you to cum.â
You practically wail, your eyes closing as you fall apart. âOh my - Joel! Joel! Joel!â You squeal as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him with your cum.
Joel groans, eyes rolling back as you pack down around him. Having to really thrust his hips to move as he tries to work you through. âFuck!â He yells, grabbing your thighs and straightening up as he continues to drill into you.
You watch him, your body pushed up the bed. âCome on. Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel it. Wanna feel you spill inside of me. Come on.â You egg him on, clenching around him as he drills into you until he stutters, his cock throbbing as he fills you up. âThatâs it. Oh shit. Never gets old. Love watching you cum.â
Joel grunts and groans as he finally stops cumming. Panting and his work rough hands caress your legs. âFucking love cumming in you.â He watches as he pulls out, spreading your thighs to watch his cum start to push out of your cunt. âThat is a pretty sight.â
You giggle as he watches your pussy for a moment until he lets your legs down from his shoulders. âYou wanna have your lunch?â You ask, knowing heâs gotta be hungry after that and he does need a lunch break. He nods and you gingerly shift off of the bed, âIâll tidy up. Go eat.â You demand, rubbing his shoulder.
Joel tucks himself away and goes downstairs to where his lunch box is sitting in the kitchen. He really had packed a lunch because of Tommy and he opens it quickly. He knows that Tommy wonât say a word, but he will give him shit for taking too long on the lunch break.
****
You bite your lip as you watch Joel work, his shoulders moving with each motion of the brush while he paints the wall. He senses your presence and turns to look at you. Tommy is on a coffee run and your parents are out. "Hey trouble." He smirks at you and you step closer to him.Â
"Hey handsome." You don't mess around, knowing you don't have a lot of time so you squeeze him through his pants.
âWhat are you doing?â He hisses, glancing around the room as if someone could walk in at any second. You laugh, making him glare at you and you squeeze him again.Â
âI want to suck your cock.â You tell him, making him hiss again, this time his hardening cock jump against your palm. You smirk as he twitches under your touch. âNo one is here. Just us.â You reassure him, your fingers sliding up to unbuckle his belt. Your nimble fingers unbutton his jeans and you reach in to pull out his half hard cock. âWanna taste you.â You murmur as you shift to kneel down in front of him, paint splattered on his pants.
âFuck.â Joel groans, looking down to find you watching him under your lashes while your tongue slides along the growing length of his cock. Heâs never had someone blow him in their parents kitchen, and heâs not going to turn you down when you are so eager for it.
You kiss along his length as you feel him harden against your lips. His hands gripping the kitchen counter as he watches you. You moan when you wrap your lips around the head, loving the spurt of pre-cum hitting your tongue. Salty and all Joel. You canât seem to get enough of him.
Itâs fucking incredible, your mouth is hot and wet, tongue eagerly sliding against his shaft. You fucking take him deeper and the first groan bubbles out of his throat. Making you smirk, stretching your lips around him.
He hisses your name and you brace your hands on his thighs. The denim is rough under your palms and you keep your eyes on him. Your moan vibrates up his cock as you take him even deeper, your pussy throbbing at the groan that escapes his lips.
His hips push forward sharply, during his cock even deeper into your mouth. Making you gag as he grabs the back of your head and takes over. Holding you still while he thrusts into your mouth, loving how your hands grab at his hips and your throat contracts around him.
You let him use your mouth, the groans escaping his mouth combined with the grunts make you slide your hand into your shorts to rub your clit. Letting him hold your head and your eyes water as you allow him to use you.
âSo fucking good.â He groans. âDonât know whatâs better, your pussy or your mouth.â He catches sight of your hand in your shorts and moans. âThatâs right, play with your pussy while I fuck your throat, little girl.â
You moan around him again, choking a second later when he pushes deeper, the curls at the base of his cock brushing your nose, and you rub your clit a little faster. His hands still grip your head, using you and rocking his hips a little faster.
Even as often as Joel is getting sex, heâs still working himself close to cumming quickly. Your mouth is perfect, the pressure around his length too much for him to be able to stand for too long. âGonna cum down your throat.â He promises. âFill- fuck- you up.â His hips stutter and his stomach lurches. âFuck- gonna-â he chokes out a groan as his cock pushed deep down your throat and starts to throb.
Joel grunts as you swallow around him one more time, spent now the last spurts have been swallowed. His hand softens on your cheek and he stops rocking his hips, eyes looking at your own watery ones.
You let his softening cock drop from your mouth as he caresses your cheek and you offer him a soft smile, enjoying how relaxed he looks right now. âFuck baby. So- you look so good.â You murmur, throat a little sore, ânot stressed.â
He chuckles softly, smirking at you slightly. âHard to be stressed when I just came.â He rubs his thumb over your lips. âHow are you, little girl? You need to cum? Want me to rub your little clit?â
You nod, shifting to stand on shaky legs. He helps you up after tucking his cock away and spins you to press your against the counter where he was standing. âJoel.â You whimper when his hands squeeze your tits. âI want to cum.â
His hand slides down from your shoulder to your tit, squeezing it and then gliding down to your stomach. Hitting your shorts and diving under the elastic waistband, and groaning when he finds youâre not wearing any underwear. âFuck baby.â He groans. âYouâre always ready to take me. Ainât ya?â
You nod, mouth falling open as his fingers find your clit. Heâs been the best part of returning home. Working from your childhood bedroom has allowed you to run riot with Joel over your parentsâ house and itâs been amazing.
âThaaaatâs it.â He coos, smirking smugly at the way your body jerks and pulls taunt as he rubs. Knowing that heâs touching you exactly like you need to be touched. âSuch a good girl for me. Doing so good. I know you want to cum.â
âNeed to - God. Need to cum.â You pant, head tilting back as his calloused fingertips rub your clit expertly. He knows your body inside out by now. âJoel, baby. Shit. Know just what I need.â
He knows that you are just praising him because heâs giving you pleasure. He hums and presses his lips to the bottom of your ear. âYouâre doing so good for me.â
You moan, âneed - fingers inside of me.â You plead and he nods, shifting his hand further into your shorts so he can push two thick digits inside of your dripping pussy. âYesss.â You cry, gripping his shirt as he pushes you into the counter.
He doesnât stop, curling and pumping his fingers deep inside your cunt. Pressing you close and pushing his thigh between your legs to keep them splayed open. âCome on baby, soak my fingers.â
You pant, fingers curling in his shirt as he pushes you higher and higher. âOh God. I -fuck Joel. Joel baby. Iâm gonna - shit. Shit. Shit.â You cry out, clamping down on his digits as he sends you over the edge. His thumb pressed against your clit and you slump against him while your thighs shake against his knee.
Joel watched you closely, enjoying the way your entire body reacts to your pleasure and he hums softly. âThatâs it. You just melt against me.â
You inhale deeply, leaning in to breathe him in. Your lips press against his neck, âso good.â You murmur as he withdraws his hand from your shorts just as the front door opens. Joel steps away from you immediately and your parents walk in. âHey Joel. Howâs it going?â Your dad asks and you exhale shakily, stepping over to the fridge Joel installed the day before.
âItâs going good.â Joel acknowledges, sliding his hands into his pockets and leaning back like he just hadnât had his fingers buried in the other manâs daughter. âWe should be finished up right on schedule. Just finishing the tile and trim and sheâll be done.â He glances around and the completely redone kitchen.
You are disappointed that Joel will be done sooner rather than later. Youâve had weeks of sex and youâre not sure what youâre going to do when heâs done. Luckily, he still has the bathrooms to finish along with the laundry room and the flooring in the bedrooms. âHeâs done a good job so far.â You comment and your mom smiles, agreeing. âWe are having a BBQ tomorrow with the neighbors. Weather is perfect and we wondered if you and Tommy wanna join us?â Your dad asks the older Miller brother.
âI- uh, yeah, sure.â Joel doesnât often socialize with his clients, but he also doesnât normally bang their daughters either. He bites his lip and shrugs. âWhat can I bring? I donât know if I would trust something I cooked, but I can bring cups, beer, whatever you need.â
Your dad nods, âbeer would be awesome. Just bring you and Tommy can bring Maria. Want to thank you guys for doing such an amazing job so far.â He says and reaches out to slap Joel on his upper arm. Your lover nods, his dark eyes glancing at you and you offer him a soft smile, wanting to let him know you want him to come to the cookout.
****
You see Joel across the lawn, sipping a beer and talking to Tommy and his wife, Maria. The entire street is here for the cookout and you sip your vodka seltzer while Darlene from two doors down talks to you about her lawyer son who would be âjust perfect for you.â âHe sounds perfect for Sallyâs daughter.â You point to the other woman who is talking to your mom and you make your way across the lawn to the Miller family. âHey guys. Everyone is amazed by the kitchen and half bath. My parents have given your number out to nearly everyone here so you should be busy for the rest of the year.â You grin, shifting in your short sundress.
âGood.â Tommy looks very pleased by the prospect and rubs Mariaâs back. âThis is my wife, Maria.â He boasts. âAnd soon to be the next Miller.âÂ
Joelâs lips press together but he relaxes his jaw so itâs not obvious heâs uncomfortable. âThatâs good.â He nods, holding up a case of beer in each hand. He has splurged on the good stuff since he didnât think your dad drank PBR. âWhere do you want these?â
You greet Maria, âIâve heard a lot about you. All good things.â You promise, offering her a smile and she says âIâve heard a lot about you too.â Her eyes look at Joel and he avoids his sister in law. âYou can put them on the bar.â You tell Joel, escorting him over to the table full of buckets of ice and various drinks.
âThanks.â He puts the beers down on the bar and turns towards you. âSoâŠwhat now?â He asks. âI talk to all his friends about remodeling their bathrooms?â He chuckles quietly.
âThat orâŠwe could find somewhere private and you could show me how you manage to get your grout lines so straight?â You smirk, biting your lip and you glance around to make sure no one is watching you. âUnless youâd prefer I leave you with the neighborhood watch mom group over there?â You flick your eyes over to the gaggle of middle aged women who are not so discreetly eying Joel.
âFuck no.â Joel snorts, looking over at the group of women and then shooting you an annoyed look. He doesnât want to be fending off those vultures all night. âWhere do you want to go?â He asks, wiping his hands on his jeans and feeling a little out of place even though he had showered and even trimmed up his facial hair for tonight. His jeans arenât ripped or paint stained and his flannel shirt is practically new.
You trail your eyes along his figure, stomach twisting at how good he looks tonight. He smells good too. âI have a treehouse. Used to go in it when I was a kid. You want to join me in there? I might want to upgrade the flooring.â You tease, grabbing your drink and spinning around, you glance over your shoulder at him as you make your way through the yard to the treehouse.
Joel grabs a beer, ignoring the women who are staring after him and follows you outside. Thereâs enough people here that most of them are talking and not paying any attention when you disappear around the back of a tree and Joel reaches the base just in time to catch a glimpse of your bare ass as you climb. âFuckinâ too old for this shit.â He grunts quietly, shoving his beer into his pocket and climbing up after you.
You giggle as he climbs up, âcome on Miller. Whereâs your sense of adventure?â You ask him as you step up onto the treehouse your grandfather built years ago. He was like Joel. Handy and an excellent craftsman. Your dad didnât inherit the gift. âGone when I turned 50.â He groans as he steps into the treehouse. Itâs not creaking when he shifts his weight and he hums, impressed with the structure. You sit down on the beanbag, holding your drink up. âYou look good for your age.â You hum, taking a sip.
He rolls his eyes and huffs as he sits down, knees creaking slightly. âFor my age, huh?â He pulls the beer out of his pocket and opens the can. âTo aging gracefully.â He toasts, holding the can up and then taking a sip of the cold brew.
You smile, watching him in your childhood treehouse is a bizarre experience but you love it. âYou do look really good tonight.â You compliment him, âI like the clean look a lot. I do think I like the dirty look more, though. Rugged, sexy, capable.â You flirt, âand you can still get it up.â You tease, âmost of the time.â You joke about the time he was about to fuck you and your parentsâ old fashioned house phone voice sounded out their voicemail. Your dad telling you to take the chicken out of the freezer. He went soft as soon as he heard your dad.
âCanât believe you still hold that against me.â He snorts. âBeen thirty fuckinâ years since Iâve been worried about somebodyâs daddy walkinâ in.â He grunts, staring at the way your thighs spread teasingly. His cock twitches in his jeans and like every time heâs around you, he starts to harden. âSo did you bring me up here to fuck?â He asks. âOr just get away from everyone?â
âBoth.â You tilt your head, âI donât - I have to confess, Iâve never been so sexually attracted to anyone. I want you. All the time. Like I even touch myself thinking about you at night.â You know youâre giving him all the cards but you mean what you say. âSoâŠwe can talk since I saved you from the neighborhood ladies flirting with you and the husbands asking for your advice on their latest DIY projectâŠor we can fuck and you gotta keep me quiet since they could definitely hear us up here.â
âHow wet are you?â Joel asks, eyeing the exposed skin as your thighs spread again. Youâve talked between flirting and fucking, but the idea of you walking around the party dripping his cum is one he really likes.
You bite your lip and lift your dress higher, spreading your legs to expose your wet folds to his dark gaze. âSoaking wet for you. Ever since you walked into the party.â You confess, sliding your hand down to rub your clit.
âSpread your lips apart.â Joel orders quietly. âRub slower.â He twitches in his jeans and reaches down to palm himself as he watches you touch yourself. Youâve not really had time for more than frantically rushed fucking, so now he can watch you. See what you like to do to yourself when youâre thinking about him.
You set your drink down and reach down with your other hand, spreading your lips to show him your puffy clit. Your eyes on him as you slowly rub the bundle of nerves and he squeezes his cock through his jeans. You like the way heâs ordering you.
âThatâs good, just like that.â He grunts. âSlide your fingers through your slick and then rub your clit again. Gotta make sure youâre nice and wet. But youâre always so fucking wet.â He unbuttons his jeans and reveals that heâs not wearing any underwear, pulling out his cock and then spitting in his hand to wrap around it and pump slowly.
You whimper, mouth almost watering when you see this thick cock in his hand. You follow his order, sliding your fingers down to gather up your slick and you bring it back to your clit, rubbing it a little faster. âAlways wet around you. Just looking at you gets me wet. Especially - shit - especially when you strip your shirt off or wear your tank top.â
âLike that, huh?â He grunts and rocks his hips up, working himself into his fist. âYou enjoy being fucked. That pretty pussy needs to be fucked as often as possible.â
You whine slightly as he pumps his cock a little faster. âJoel. Please. Let me - let me sit on your cock. Wanna feel you inside of me. Want you to cum inside of me.â You beg pathetically, pulling your hand away from your clit.
âWhat are you waiting for?â He demands, still pumping himself. âYou want to ride, you have to come to me.â Youâve never ridden him before but he wants to see your tits bounce in his face. âPull out your other tit and come sit on my cock.â
You pull down the straps of your dress, exposing your tits and you shift out of the bean bag, straddling his thighs and he holds his cock up so you can sink down on him. âFuckkk.â You whimper, eyes fluttering closed as he stretches you out.
âShhhh shhhh.â He covers your mouth with his hand, the other behind your neck to hold you firm while he bottoms out in your aching pussy. âSilent.â He whispers, knowing that no one at the party can hear, but you will get loud if he doesnât warn you. Breathing against his fingers, he groans quietly when your pussy flutters. âYou like that, huh?â He grunts. âHolding your mouth closed while you ride my cock? Is that how to keep you quiet?â
Your hands grip his wrist, eyes wide as you nod. You want him to keep you quiet. His cock twitches inside of you and you whimper against his palm. âShhhh.â He coos, âride me.â He demands softly and you nod, lifting your thighs to pull up off of his cock nearly all the way. You sink back down onto him.
He watches you, feeling the shuddered breaths against his palm, warming it. Thinking that you are fucking gorgeous and too good for him as you grind back down into his lap. Wanting him as deep as possible while you lean back to find the perfect angle for his cock inside you. âGood girl.â He praises, voice low. âMake yourself cum.â
You love his voice. Deep and gruff. His orders have you fluttering around his cock already. Knowing that anyone at the party could figure out that you are together, up here, having sex. Your nails dig into his forearm slightly and you rock a little faster, your thighs aching but you donât care. You want to cum and you want him to follow you.
Joelâs hips stay down, letting you have complete control of the ride, although he pulls you up straighter by your head. Just enough for him to duck down and wrap his lips around one of your nipples. Biting it before sucking it onto his mouth and lavishing attention on it.
You cry into his palm, muffled as he bites down on your nipple and you tangle your fingers in his hair as you ride him a little faster. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you find the right angle for the head of his cock to rub against your g-spot.
Joel grunts, sucking and biting on your breast while you gallop on his cock. Loving how your moans are muffled by his hand and his cock twitches. He loves how you demand pleasure and are willing to take it for yourself.
You moan into his palm, so close to your orgasm. He switches to your other nipple and it sends you over the edge. You clamp down on his cock, soaking him and your cry threatens to bubble past his palm but he presses his hand harder against your mouth to smother your cry. His groan is soft against your breast as you grip him and you shake above him.
Your hands slide down from his hair to his shoulders, caressing his upper back as he paints your walls with his cum. His hand drops from your mouth as he grips your waist and you rest your head on top of his. âSo good, baby. So fucking good.â You gasp, âcanât get enough of you.â
Joel chuckles quietly as you both ride out your orgasms, panting softly. âI can tell.â He teases quietly, running his hand down your spine. âGood baby?â
You nod against his head, âso good. Fuck, Joel. Wish you could stay inside of me alllll the time.â You tease, running your fingers through his salt and pepper locks. âI am gonna be dripping your cum at this party.â
âI know.â He smirks at you and waggles his brows. âIâve thought about that before you ever even climbed in my lap.â He pats your hip lightly, leaning back and sighing, relaxed and loose now. He picks up his beer and takes a swallow, his cock softening inside you.
You watch him, your gaze softening until you clear your throat and shift off of his lap. You grab your own drink after you pull your dress into place, sitting down in the bean bag. Joel is quiet as he sips his beer and you shift in the bean bag. âIâm gonna head down, clean up. Come down whenever youâre ready. Itâs better that we are seen separately.â You murmur, groaning as you stand up and his cum starts to drip down your thigh. You wink at him as you climb down the ladder and make your way into the house to clean up. When you come out of the bathroom, you are grabbing a snack in the kitchen when your mom approaches you. âSweetheart, we - your dad and I wanted to talk to you. We noticed you and Joel go up to your treehouse and we - weâve seen the way you look at him. Youâre an adult and after what that asshole did to you, you deserve to have some fun but honeyâŠJoel is complicated.â You open your mouth to respond but she shakes her head, âyou donât know his past. Youâve been away from home for a long time and we - your dad knew Joel from his coworkers. Joel lost his daughter. She was thirteen. He lost her and his wife - she left him when his daughter was two. Heâs got a lot of baggage and Iâm worried that he will hurt you because he doesnât want to - heâs not the dating kind.â She explains and your jaw clenches.Â
âMom, I donât want to date him. We are having fun. PleaseâŠI know I have kept this for you. Been doing this under your roof and Iâm sorry for that but Iâm not sorry about Joel. Heâs fun and I- I deserve to have some fun. Iâm not marrying the guy.â You scoff, crossing your arms. She nods and grabs her wine glass, neither of you aware that Tommy was lingering in the hallway.
Tommy finds Joel nursing a beer and listening to one of your fatherâs neighbors talk about the bathroom that he wanted to remodel. Obviously wanting a quote, sight unseen. âHey, can I talk to you for a second?â Tommy asks Joel, nodding in apology to the potential customer. Once he gets him alone, Tommy shuffles nervously. âSo I heard somethingâŠ..âÂ
Joel clenches his jaw as Tommy relays the conversation that he had heard between you and your mother. âRight.â He spits after a moment, glancing over at you and then back at his brother. âThink Iâm going to call it a night.â He decides.
You frown when you donât see Joel anymore and you ask Tommy where he went. The younger Miller brother is a little cold towards you and tells you his brother went home, decided to call it a night. You nod and thank him and Maria for coming when he tells you they are leaving. Youâre confused Joel didnât say goodbye but you suppose thatâs his MO.Â
****
The next day, Joel is back working in the house and you glance around to see where Tommy is before you waltz over to him, a smile on your face. âHey handsome. Working in my bedroom today?â You ask, âI need some help moving the bed.â
Joel looks up at you for a brief moment and then back down at his tools. âTommy and I will move it. Iâd prefer it if you werenât in the room.â He tells you. âLiability.â He doesnât look back up and doesnât say another word while you are standing there waiting for him to take you up on your obvious overture.
Your smile falls, his gaze turning back to his tools and you deflate. âOh, uh, okay. Sure. I can take my work to the living room.â You step back, wondering if heâs had a bad morning. You leave the hallway without another word and grab your laptop, heading downstairs to work. Later that afternoon, Tommy is out getting their lunch and you walk into your bedroom to find Joel working on ripping up the old carpet. âYou need a drink?â You hold out the bottle of water, âfigured you could use a break while you wait for Tommy to get back.â You bend over so he can look down your shirt at your tits.
âIâm good.â He doesnât look up, not wanting to see your tits or your legs on display. âHave a bottle over there.â He doesnât even stop working and just nods his head towards his tool bag. âBe finished by tomorrow.â His words are short and clipped.
Thereâs definitely something wrong. You frown and huff, standing up straight and you donât leave right away. You uncap the bottle and tilt your head back, chugging half the water. With a dramatic sigh of satisfaction, you spin on your heel and leave the room.
Joel continues working but he sighs, hating that he had ever thought that you would want him. He was stupid, he had started to care about you. Way too much, it was better to just keep things professional between you. He was the contractor, nothing more.
****
A couple of days pass by and you ignore Joel and Tommyâs presence in the house, deciding to work at some coffee shops instead, but today is a gorgeous day. The sun is shining, you donât need to work, so you decide to sit in the sun and have a drink. You walk into the kitchen where Joel is sitting, looking over his materials, and you open the fridge to grab a drink while dressed in the smallest bikini you own. Just because heâs ignoring you doesnât mean he wonât notice you. Maybe heâs in a bad mood. Youâd forgive him if he touched you again.
The muscles in Joelâs jaws have been getting a workout. Clenching every time you walk into a room half naked and primping around. He knows what you are doing and itâs starting to piss him off. He's ached for days, having to go home and jerk off after work every night like heâs a teenager again. âNeed to put some fucking clothes on.â He grumbles under his breath.
You turn your head to look at him, âdid you say something?â He shakes his head and you hum, taking your drink outside to the sun loungers your parents had bought for the summer. You sigh as you lay down in view on the kitchen window. Taking off your top to sunbathe.
It takes him about fifteen minutes to notice you. Hissing in anger when he sees your tits on display. He grabs one of his work rags and stalks outside angrily. âCover yourself up.â He growls, tossing the rag over your chest. âMy fucking brother doesnât want to see your tits and his wife certainly doesnât want him to.â
You glare at him from behind your sunglasses. âYour brother isnât here, asshole.â You toss the rag back at him. âItâs my day off. I wanted to relax and you are interrupting that.â You hiss at him, âand itâs not like you havenât seen it all before.â
âFuck this.â He growls. âIâm done for the day.â Heâs pissed off and needs to get away from you.
You huff, grabbing the rag back. âYou donât need to leave. Iâll go inside. If you leave, youâll need more time to finish your work and I donât want you staying longer than necessary. You might as well stay and Iâll go inside. Give you a break from my tits.â You growl, shifting to stand up from the lounger.
âIâm just the help, right?â He scoffs. âSomeone to use and have fun with?â Hearing what you had said hurt because Tommy had said you had seemed appalled that your mother figured it out. âSo I think itâs best that I keep things professional. So thereâs no confusion. Not like youâd want people to know you were getting fucked by the carpenter.â He shakes his head. âIâll have Tommy finish up this job.â
âI- I didnât - you heard my conversation with my mom? I was - I was trying to save your ass. Itâs not exactly professional to sleep with your client's daughter. I- it was fun. Until you decided to be an asshole. I figured you wanted to keep it casual and I want to know more about you but we donât exactly have time to sit down and tell our life story.â
âTommy heard you.â He corrects, wondering if youâre just trying to cover your ass or if you were trying to protect him. He waits for a moment, biting his lip. âIf you want to know about me, Iâll be at Bill & Frankâs tonight.â He tells you, planning on going to the dive bar that Frank has tried to make a little more classy. âUp to you.â
You nod, knowing itâs best to not push him anymore right now. You grab your bikini top and head inside, deciding to leave him be and meet him later. You head back inside and you donât look back, figuring that heâd want to be left alone.Â
****
You brush your dress down, looking up at the crooked sign for Bill and Frankâs and you inhale deeply. Reaching for the door, you head inside and itâs a weird mix of old fashioned saloon and an afternoon tea shop. Lace doilies on the tables with small lamps and worn coasters. The artwork on the wall says âeighty year old womanâ while the floor is sticky.
âWell that doesnât walk in here often.â Bill grunts, looking at the door with an almost annoyed glare, which was normal for the cantankerous bar owner. âTrouble if Iâve ever seen.âÂ
Joel looks over his shoulder to see you and snorts. âSurprised you noticed.â He huffs at the other man, smirking slightly when the bearded man shifts his glare to him. âDonât worry, I wonât tell Frank.â Heâs sort of friends with Bill and Frank, the proprietors of the little bar. Or itâs better to say, Tess was really good friends with Frank, so Bill and Joel had tolerated each other. After Tess had died, Joel had found himself still coming back.
You spot Joel at the bar and make your way over. He turns to look at you, âhey.â He grunts and you offer him a soft smile as he pulls the bar stool out next to him for you to sit down. He slides the shot he had sitting in front of him over to you and you donât hesitate to tilt your head back as you down it. Bill snorts, wiping down the counter, âwhat can I get you?â He asks and you order a beer. âI didnât know if youâd be here. You didnât give me a time.â
âSorry.â He grunts, lifting his beer to his lips and takes a sip. âFigured youâd come and Iâd be here.â Bill chuckles as he wipes down the bar with a rag, smirking slightly at the sight of Joel and another woman. âYou on a date, Miller?â He cackles.
âJoel is working on my parentsâ house.â You explain and Bill snorts, âthis is the hussy thatâs got you running around in circles?â He asks and your eyebrows raise. Joel shakes his head, âgo get her drink and get Frank out here if you canât be nice.â He orders and you huff, âbeen talking me up, huh?â Joel shrugs and you sigh, âI suppose I deserve that. I havenât exactly treated you fairly. It wasnât just fun for me. I wanted more.â You admit softly, looking down at the counter.
Joel snorts as Bill walks away and cuts you a look before he takes another sip of his beer. âIâm old, little girl.â He reminds you. âYouâre a hell of a lot younger, wanting things I canât give you. Like kids and shit.â
You tap your fingers on the counter, closing your eyes for a second. âWe never had a discussion about birth control other than me telling you it was taken care of. The truth isâŠmy ex cheated on me.â You take a deep breath, âhe cheated on me because I found out Iâm infertile. We tried for a year. Figured we would do the tests when we discovered that I canât - I have PCOS and it was bad. They did some tests and scans and I had to have my ovaries removed then he - he cheated on me. Sheâs pregnant. Thatâs why I moved home. I was in his house and I was sure he was going to propose since he seemed to accept that we wouldnât have biological kids but he - he cheated and I moved home. So to answer your question, I canât have kids.â
âWhat a fucker.â He growls, angry on your behalf. âThatâs a shit thing to do.â He will never understand someoneâs need to cheat. Those people are complete scumbags in his eyes and heâs done a lot of shit heâs regretted. âIâm sorry, you deserve better than that douche bag. It doesnât matter if you canât give him kids.â
You nod, âit did to him. Iâm glad I found out what heâs really like. Better to happen like that instead of when we have had adopted two kids and Iâm stuck with him.â You confess just as another man comes over to set your beer down along with another for Joel. The man, you assume he is Frank, says your name. âRight? The pretty girl youâve been telling us about. Sheâs as beautiful as you described, Joel.â Frank says and you fluster, looking at Joel who is busy studying the grain of wood on the counter. âThereâs a condom machine in the bathroom.â Frank winks as he walks off to serve another patron.
âJesus Christ.â Joel hisses under his breath, squirming slightly in his seat in embarrassment. âGonna stop fucking coming here.â He gripes even as he picks up his new beer.
You giggle softly, âhe heard all the details, huh?â You tease and you nudge him gently. âItâs fine. I didnât know you cared so much, Miller.â You take a sip of your beer and glance around the bar, feeling someoneâs eyes on you. A man, younger than Joel but shorter, is staring at you and you offer him a nod before you turn back to the counter.
Joel glances around and doesnât really think anything of the people in the bar. Plenty of people are flirting and having a good time. Frank is down the bar waiting on another couple and he wonders if you want to get some food.
Frank sets another round of drinks down in front of you after he serves the couple down the bar. âOn the house. Itâs been a while since I saw Joel smile. Especially not since Tess died.â He says and you frown, turning to look at Joel.
He owes you an explanation. âTess was my- we were-â he fumbles for the proper way to describe his relationship with Tess. The ache was still there, deep inside him just like when he lost Sarah. âShe was mine.â He finally settled on just that. âShe died. Two years ago.â
You can see the pain in his eyes, losing someone else that he loved. Your dad told you more about Joel losing his daughter, Sarah, to a gunman in a gas station robbery that went wrong. Your heart aches for him. You reach for his hand, âIâm so sorry, Joel.â You murmur, knowing that thereâs nothing else you could say.
Sorries always make Joel uncomfortable. It canât change the past or bring back Sarah, or Tess. âThanks.â He mumbles and drains the rest of his first beer. âI need to piss.â He tells you as he stands. âBe right back.â
You nod, watching him go. You take a sip of your beer and sense a presence beside you as soon as Joel disappears. âHey baby. You done babysitting the old man? Wanna have some real fun?â He asks and you scoff, âheâs not old.âÂ
The guy leans against the counter next to you. âBet he needs viagra to get it up.â He scoffs and you snort, âthat âold manâ can make my legs shake and make me moan his name more than anyone Iâve ever met.â You say and he says, âuntil you met me.â He smirks, leaning in and you jerk back.Â
âPlease fuck off.â You order, hating how he wonât take the hint. âCome on baby, donât be mean. Gimme a chance to make you cum.â He coos, reaching for your wrist.Â
âGet the fuck off of me.â You hiss, trying to jerk your wrist out of his grip but he doesnât let go.
Joel comes out of the bathroom, walking into the bar and the first thing he sees is you trying to pull your arm out of some assholeâs grip. The fucker not letting you go and Joelâs jaw clenches and his fists bunch together. âOh shit.â Frank hisses, knowing what that look means. âJoel! Joel! Donât do it! Joel!â Joel doesnât even hear him as he crosses the bar in less than ten seconds and is dragging the asshole off of you. Whirling him around and punching him down to the ground before climbing on top of him and whaling away in an angry haze.
Your eyes widen and a shocked gasp escapes your lips as Joel continues to punch the asshole. âJoel. Joel. Stop!â You demand, knowing heâs going to kill the guy if you let him continue. You reach for his shoulder as he pulls his fist back again but he shrugs you off, his vision going red. Bill rushes around the bar, grabbing Joelâs waist to pull him off of the guy before he punches his face in. âCome on, man.â Bill grunts, dragging Joel off just enough for Frank to get in front of him. âGo. You gotta go.â Frank tells you when he hears someone calling 911. âTake Joel. Go.â Frank urges, knowing Joel canât afford another arrest. âMotherfucker.â Joel growls, trying to get out of Billâs grip.Â
âStop it,â Bill growls, spinning him to drag him out of the bar. You nod, grabbing your purse and Bill escorts Joel to his truck. âDrive him home.â He orders, shoving Joel into his truck, his fists bloody and skin broken. Your hands shake, taking the key from Bill that he pulled out of Joelâs pocket. You get into the driverâs seat, adjusting the seat, and you barely manage to start the engine. âYou- you gotta tell me where you live.â
Joel doesnât answer you right away, staring down and his hand and flexing it to make sure nothings too broken. Just a few hairline fractures from what he can tell with the adrenaline still running through his system. âJoel!â You snap, making him look up at you, his eyes dark and focused, causing you to nearly shrink back from him. âWhere do you live?â You repeat and he knows heâs in no condition to drive. He murmurs his address and then looks back down at his hand, sirens wailing in the distance.
You drive a little faster when you see the flashing lights on the horizon, wanting Joel to get home safe and sound. Your heart is still pounding but you manage to figure out his street and pull onto it, squinting to see the numbers in the dark. Finally, you pull onto his drive and put the truck in park, killing the engine. âCome on, letâs get you cleaned up.â You murmur, getting out of his truck and rounding it to open the door for him.
Joel follows your instructions, getting out of the truck and following behind you as you climb the steps to the front door of his house. The old craftsman cottage has been a project for him, one that he needed after Tess, but now it is done and it is a beauty.
You unlock his door with the key on his truck key ring and you admire the workmanship that went into the home. Signs of Joelâs hard work are everywhere. You shut the door behind him when he walks in. âDo you have a first aid kit?â You ask and he nods, âlaundry room.â He jerks his chin towards the door across the hall and you nod, âgo sitâ you order before you go find the kit.
He should tell you to go, but he just sits down at the dining room table and sighs. His hand hurts, but heâs fucking still amped up. His leg bouncing slightly as his pulse just jumps around.
You come into the dining room to sit down, opening the kit. Your stomach twists as you look at Joel, the dark look from earlier still not receding from his eyes. Youâre silent as you work on cleaning the blood to assess the damage to his knuckles.
He wants you. The way his cock is twitching and throbbing as you work on him, it should scare him. Scare you. Your thumb brushes over his knuckle and he grabs your hand, making you look at him. âYou should go.â He growls.
Your eyes meet his and you realize he doesnât want you to go. You stare at him for a few moments, trying to figure him out until you say âno.â You wonât go. Not when he needs you and you need him. Sometime between the messing around and having sex, it became serious.
âIâm not going to be gentle.â He warns, wanting to be honest. âI canât be. Not now, not when my fucking-â he cuts himself off. âLast chance.â
You take a moment to wrap his knuckles. âI donât want gentle.â You tell him, your eyes meeting his after you finish wrapping his knuckles with the bandage. âI want you. No matter what. I want you.â You promise, your gaze firm, showing him that youâre not running away.
Joel shoots out of his chair and grabs your shoulders, kissing you roughly, his lips bruising. He wants to destroy you, completely break you apart in a completely different way from how he would have handled that bastard. Wanting to banish the thought of him touching you from his mind and replace it with you.
You gasp into his mouth, his hands lifting you up onto the table and you grip his shirt, wanting to keep him close. Your legs wrapping around his waist and his cock is hard in his pants, pushing into your core. His tongue slides into your mouth and your hands slide up to tangle in his hair, tugging as you react to his rough touch.
Joel growls, biting your bottom lip and itâs like heâs lost all reason on control. He wants nothing more to break you down. His hands are rough and demanding, nearly ripping your dress off your body.
You reach out, fumbling to unbutton his shirt. Every time youâve had sex, heâs been dressed. Tonight, you want to see all of him. You grow impatient and rip his shirt, buttons flying as you shove it down his shoulders to access his skin. Your hands explore his chest when the shirt hits the floor and you lean in, biting down on his peck.
He grunts, cock twitching and he squeezes your hands before he rips your panties off of you. Willing to sacrifice them to his needs.
âOh my God!â You squeal at the ripping of your underwear. âJoel!â You gasp, moaning a second later when his fingers push inside of your dripping wet cunt. You slide your hands down to his belt, unbuckling it and you rip it out of the loops, working fast to unbutton his jeans and pull his hard cock out.
Joel pushes your hands away but you press your thighs together when he tries to step between them. âStrip.â You demand and he growls, needing to be inside you.
Joel kicks his boots off, his jeans hitting the floor and he shoves them across the floor. Naked in front of you for the first time, you lean back to admire his form. His arms are strong, freckled from being in the sun, and he has a slight belly but itâs so sexy. Heâs not overly hairy and your hand lets go of his cock so you can caress his skin. âSo gorgeous.â You murmur, lost in your own thoughts as you admire him.
Joel huffs, shaking his head. âIâm old, youâre gorgeous.â Itâs the small bit of tenderness he can manage right now, but when he grabs you, his hands are harsh. âYouâre not letting that fucker touch you.â He hisses, pushing your thighs apart. âHe couldnât fuck you like I do.â He grabs your leg and pulls it up on his hip, lining up and slamming his cock into your warm and giving cunt in one thrust.
âJoel!â You squeal as he stretches you out. Youâre wet enough to take him but it pinches slightly. You donât care. You grip his arms, lifting your thigh higher so he can push deeper inside of you. âFuck baby.â You pant, tilting your head back as he starts to fuck you.
The table rocks, shaking and scrapping over the floor as he fucks you. Brutally slamming into you before quickly pulling back out to do it again. Savage and feral, his mouth bites and sucks at your tilted throat, needing to possess and mark you as his.
Heâs possessing you with every thrust, bite, mark, and kiss. Youâre surrounded by him. His woodsy smell from the lumber he works with in your nose and you moan, fumbling to cross your ankles behind his back to get him even closer.
He might break the fucking table, but he doesnât care. All he cares about is the way you take him. Your pussy giving way to the harsh thrusts of his cock and squeezing tight around him. He growls and groans, making noises that sound inhuman as he fucks you.
âJoel. Oh my God.â You cry out, your hands scrambling to grip him, needing an anchor as he fucks you hard and fast. Itâs harder than anything youâve ever experienced. Feral and dominating but your cunt is absolutely gushing around him, your stomach clenched with arousal as he rocks into you. âShit. Youâre gonna make me cum.â You pant, reaching down to rub your clit, knowing heâs focused on thrusting into you.
He knows he should ease up, that you deserve tenderness but he doesnât have it in him right now. The rage, the fury, all being taken out on your pussy. âCum.â He grunts, the sound nearly demonic from how raspy he sounds. âCum.â
How can you deny him when he asks you like that? He pounds into you two more times and youâre sent over the edge. Clamping down on him, your scream echoes in his house and your hand falls away from your clit to slam onto the table to keep yourself upright.
Joel hisses your name, so fucking close to cumming himself. Itâs so sexy how easily you cum for him. Hips stuttering, he only manages another few thrusts before he is cumming, painting your walls with his cum as he moans your name again, softly this time.
You slump against him when he cums, his cock twitching inside of you, and you moan softly when he rests his head on top of yours. âJoel.â You murmur, throat closing slightly with emotions that you canât give voice to.
Panting, he closes his eyes, his hands slowly relaxing and he sighs. âAre you- did I hurt you?â He asks softly. He hadnât wanted to actually hurt you, despite being rough.
You shake your head, âno. No you didnât, baby.â You promise, leaning in to kiss his chin and he sighs, turning his head to press his lips to yours. Itâs surprisingly tender after how rough he fucked you. You cup his cheeks, caressing the gray stubble there to show him how much you care for him without actually telling him.
âDo you want to stay?â He nuzzles his nose against yours, realizing you must have left your car at the bar. He hasnât even pulled out of you, but he doesnât really want to. Suddenly tired and ready for bed after the evening.
âYes.â You nod, knowing itâs too late to head home. He pulls out of you, slow enough to not hurt you, and you shift off of his table that has scraped along the floor. âCan I borrow a shirt?â You ask, watching him bend down to grab his jeans, pulling them on.
âYeah, come on baby.â He uses his shirt to wipe up his cum and grabs you a bottle of water out of the fridge. âIâll get you a shirt you can sleep in. Or you can sleep naked beside me.â He jokes, smirking at your wobbly footing when you stand up.
Youâre soon dressed in his shirt, sliding under his sheets that smell just like him, and youâre exhausted. The events of the day hit you hard and you curl around him when he slides in beside you, water bottle placed on your nightstand.
Joel doesnât like sleep, he dreams too much. Of Sarah, Tess and all the mistakes he has made over the years. Haunting him and weighing him down. Tonight, wrapped around you, Joel doesnât dream.
The next morning, you wake up and groan against the sunlight peeking in through the blinds. âJoel?â You call out softly, voice raspy. The smell of bacon and eggs hits your nose and you get out of bed, peeing before you head downstairs to the kitchen. Your eyes widen when you find Joel cooking and sitting at the counter is a teenage girl.
âHoly shit, Joel! You had a sleepover.â Ellie pipes up, making Joel turn around from the stove. âEllie! Language!â He hisses before he catches sight of you. âHey! Uh, good morning. Iâm making breakfast.â He explains, as if it werenât obvious. Ellie snaps her fingers and says your name. âThatâs you, right? Joelâs been talking about you.â
You are trying to figure out who Ellie is. You havenât heard a word about her from Joel. âOh, uh, yeah. Hi Ellie.â You greet her as you come over to Joel who is cooking. âCoffee is in the pot.â He says and you nod, grabbing the mug he left on the side and you pour yourself a cup. You feel awkward in his shirt, your hair all over the place, and you can feel Ellie watching you.
âJoel, Joel, Joel.â Ellie tsks and shakes her head before leveling a mockingly serious look at him when he slides her eggs onto her plate. âDo we need to have the talk, young man?â She snickers. âAre you engaging in safe sex?â She lowers her voice to a pitch that matches the old sex Ed videos. âJesus Christ.â He hisses. âDonât you have school?â
You smirk, finding it refreshing that the teenager is prodding at an otherwise always cool headed Joel. âSafe sex. Iâve looked after him.â You promise her as you lean against the counter and she chuckles, âhe was practically soppy when I came in this morning. I slept over at my friend Rileyâs house.â She explains and you nod, a little relieved she didnât hear you and Joel last night. âIâm leaving for school after Iâve had my breakfast.â She adds, looking over at you. âI'm his foster kid, in case this dumbass didnât tell you.â Ellie says, guessing from your look that you didnât know about her. âI, uh, Iâm sorry. Joel hasnât really told me much.â
âGot lunch money, kid?â He asks, reaching into his pocket and pulling out some money. âItâs pizza day right?â He asks, smirking when she nods and snatches the money out of his hand before she shoves the eggs into her mouth and pops off the stool. âWell, see ya!â
âBye!â You call out as she rushes off and you turn to look at Joel. âAnother secret youâve been keeping.â You tease softly and he snorts, ânot a secret. Just didnât want to drag you into my bullshit.â You shake your head, âthatâs not bullshit. You- she seems like a good kid and youâre looking after her. Youâre a good man, Joel. One I want to know more about. One I could easily fall forâŠmaybe have been already.â You confess, reaching out to touch his arm.
âYouâŠ.â Joel frowns slightly, setting a plate in front of you. âYou like the fact that Iâm an asshole?â He asks it like a question, one that he never considered before.
âI love the fact that youâre an asshole. Youâre not an asshole to meâŠmost of the time. Iâve never felt so wanted. I want - I want all of you, Miller. Even the asshole.â You joke, slightly flustered at your confession.
Joel shuffles uneasily and sighs. âIâm not good with words.â He admits, looking around the kitchen that he had once shared with Tess. âI didnât- I donât really share emotions.â He had realized that when she had thought he hadnât felt the same way about her. That he hadnât loved her. He had been raw about that for a long time, although the kid didnât deserve to blame herself for Tess getting bit. Who the fuck would have ever thought a woman would die of rabies during this day and age? He looks back at you. âI can fuck you until you scream, protect you. Cook you breakfast. But that might not be enough for you.â
You reach up to cup his cheeks, bringing his eyes to yours. âThat is enough. You are enough. Iâm damaged too. Letâs not put pressure on this. We arenât first loves. We arenât teenagers. We are grown ass adults who can communicate. I donât want a fairytale, Iâve been hurt before by silly dreams and fake promises. I want real. Youâre real. I want you.â You assure him, your eyes burning into his.
Joel watches you for a moment and then gives a small nod. Agreeing with you. After last night, heâs not giving you up. Youâre his. âI donât break promises.â Joel tells you. âNot if I can help it.â
You nod, leaning in closer to kiss him softly. âI know, baby.â You murmur and he nudges his nose against yours. âIâm here to stay, baby. Especially with the way you cook bacon.â You grin, taking a slice off of the paper towel and biting into it. âYou might want to stay at your parentâs house all the time when we are finished with it.â He jokes and you snort, shifting to sit down at the counter while he plates up the food. âI donât think so, baby. Might have to convince my parents to add an extension. Keep you working for them.â You tease and Joel snorts, âyou can have my cock for free.â He promises and you wink at him, swallowing the bacon. âNow that sounds like a good deal.â You smile and Joel chuckles, knowing that this job mightâve turned into the best one of his career. Not only did he get paid, he got a bonus: you.
#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller smut#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfiction
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No because that hurt me! Lando Norris x Girlfriend! Reader Part 2
Plot: Lando goes one step too far ...
As you'd promised you'd gone straight back to London, you thrown yourself into your work. You spent the days on the construction sight for the new house you were flipping, overseeing the progress. You spent the evenings in the studio working on more plans for the interior of the house.
But you did miss him, of course you missed him.
He was your person ...
Your guy...
The love of your life.
In the time that you'd come home however, videos had surfaced, many videos had surfaced...
The first was of you and Lando in the club, someone from a table across from the one your friends had been sat in showed how Lando had acted towards you and how his friends had tried to back you up. The next was of you running up to Alex, begging for a lift.
Afterwards, videos were leaked of the rest of Lando's night where he celebrated his win, by dancing with his friends and random girls that were being pulled into the big group. Nothing scandalous but enough to upset the fans who really liked you.
Later on, after the first few videos came out a video came out of Max Fewtrell and him arguing before him and Pietra left. Max actually pushed him a little and lots of hand gestures were flying round, but Lando looked just as angry as Max did.
Normally when you were in London, people knew they'd get content on your Instagram stories of you doing what you do best. People had suggested you to start a YouTube because your live's and reels were so funny that they'd definitely spend the time watching.
But you'd been dark since the argument with Lando and people were getting worried including Lando. So when you posted a titkok with your team, in the trend that AstonMartin did where the camera is up high above and you all do funny things, the media went crazy.
You then posted a video on instagram talking about the new house and the progress that was coming on.
"Hey guys! Y/N here! Just wanted to show you how the latest project is coming on. We've torn down the living room and put all new flooring in, which actually has built in underfloor heating which i think here in the UK is a real money move. We're going to hook it all up to a central network from the hallway as you walk in, which we finally finished the painting for that last week" you pan showing the round the areas you'd been talking about.
You showed you and one of the girls tearing down the kitchen.
Captioned 'Best Part of the Job, Free Rage Room', which is how you'd always referred to the demolition phase of house flipping. People on twitter of course took it out of context and rumors started flying that you and Lando had in fact called it splits, even one of those WAG update pages 'confirming' the breakup from close sources.
You'd found it laughable really, but you knew it would be hurting Lando, and no matter how much he hurt you ... you weren't a bitter person. You didn't want him hurting as well.
You were sat in your studio at your desk, sketching for the garden. The pen was currently in your mouth, sat back debating whether you should reach out to Lando or wait for him to come to you.
It had been three weeks at this point with no communication. You'd spoken to Lando's family, who had talked with you about everything that had happened. Cisca and Adam had apologized for their sons behavior.
As you were about to pick up your phone, caving in to messaging Lando first when you swore you wouldn't on knock on your wooden studio door sounds.
You frown, wondering who on earth would be coming to you at this time of the night. You weren't even open, office hours were long over. It was about 11pm, so your clients knew you weren't taking calls even though you were still here and working with a light on.
You open the door, bolt and latch on for added protection.
"Lando?" you ask seeing the curly haired boy, hoodie up and his eyes looking more tired than you'd ever seen them.
"You want to open up and let me in baby?" he asks softly, a slight crack to his voice.
"I was just about to call you" you admit, unlatching the door so it swings open fully. He stops just under the arch of the door observing you. It was like he was having a small inward debate with himself.
"Gonna cave coz you miss me?" he jokes, testing the waters. He didn't know how you were now that you'd have some time apart. He was hopeful that he could talk to you again and fix what had happened.
"Honestly yeah. I hate you and how much of a hold you have on me" you admit, leaning back into your chair directing him to the sofa.
"I came here, to say I'm sorry and that I was horrible to you. And I know it's not excuse but I want to explain what happened. In full... I think you deserve more than an explanation... but I think you need one for if we are ever going to go back to what we were" he sighs. He leans forward and takes your hand into his.
He explains how, after the race people told him you'd said you were leaving the race track. So he went to the hotel to find you, only for you not to be there, Max came round and said you were probably getting ready with the girls as P had told him you were all gonna meet them there.
"I didn't think this was too out of the ordinary for you, your especially close with P and Lily, and it wouldn't shock me if Kelly and Kika would drag you all into a girl pre-club party in their hotel room..." he laughs knowing that normally you and P would do each other's makeup when Max and her came to race weekends. Or you and Lily would switch outfit's loving to venture into each other's styles.
When he got to the club and no-one had seen you, and Pierre and Charles had come up to him with celebratory shots, he hadn't declined.
"The shots were the start of what slowly just went downhill, I don't think i ever want to drink that much again, I was so happy at the start" he laughs flushing red and the thought of him knocking back shots, which was rare considering he didn't like to drink. He wouldn't be doing it anytime soon that was for sure.
"You deserved to celebrate though baby, don't make it seem like you shouldn't have had a fun night" you admit, both of you were being open and mature adults right now. You were so glad you'd both spent some time apart to think before you fought more, now you were both talking and listening to each other and you couldn't help but think it was beautiful and intimate.
After the three hour mark he was fed up that you hadn't bothered to show up at such an important night for him. Talking to Charles and Pierre who were also drunk, weren't the best influences on suggesting places you could be. All of them being ones his drunk mind could picture vividly, his sober mind would have known his girl would never dream of doing that to him.
"Charles said some things and I know sober me would have known you wouldn't do that, but i was already angry thinking you'd just ditched me. I shouldn't have drunk as much and I know its no excuse... but" he starts and you nod.
"The main thing is you know how you would have acted. Yes you upset me, yes your hurt me because you said some horrible things to me..."
"Yeah, I've heard the video and It wasn't my intention to embarrass you the way I did, especially in front of our friends. I'm so so sorry!" he admits.
The other group, had tried to convince him that maybe you'd just got held up and thats where Oscar, Lily, Max and P had all messaged you.
"Baby, I'm so so sorry that i wasn't there for you after what happened!" he says tears in his eyes. This would forever be one of his biggest regrets in life, not being there for you when you needed him.
"How did you find out?" you gulp, not really wanting to think about what could have happened that night if it wasn't for the Mclaren Mechanics.
"Well, after having a scolding from Oscar, and Max, and Alex, and Zac... the mechanics also threatened to botch my pit stops. So i listened to what they did for you"
"Mmmm it was scary. All i wanted was you" you nod, rubbing a thumb across his hand.
"I'm so so sorry, I promised you that i'd protect you always. And I've failed!" he says with a little snivel and tears brimming his eyes.
"You've not failed, you just made a mistake, there's been some miscommunication and Charles and Pierre didn't help with their boyish meddling but ... we'll get there" you smile before pulling closer to him and nuzzling into his neck breathing in his sent.
"Do you think you'll ever forgive me?" he asks softly pulling you back so he can fully look at you.
"I already have, darling" you smile.
"What did i ever do to deserve you, I don't think i do" he smiles.
"Hmmmm, well I think the historians will argue one day its me who didn't deserve you" you sigh, brushing some of his hair back.
"I doubt that" he scoffs, knowing that when you first started dating, even with your lack of status people still thought you were too kind, too sweet and too innocent for someone as jokey and brash as Lando was seen to be.
"I've never had anyone treat me the way you do, I'm so so in love with you. And I don't ever want the feelings I have when i think of you and see you to stop. I feel like i can do anything when i have you by my side. Why do you think the first person i seeked out was you?" you offer, softly leaning in and placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.
You guys, talked more that night. About how you actually had fun helping the Mclaren boys pack up, regardless if you thought Lando had forgotten about you.
A week later and the media had picked up on the sighting the paps had got of both of you. Some fans had seen you both at a restaurant and make posts on it.
The comments bashed you either way, being between saying how silly you were for taking him back or the others saying they were upset you were back. It got to the point where you had to release a statement saying that you and Lando, are grown adults who can talk through the miscommunication and issues you'd experienced and were better for it now.
"I love you so much, and I'm never ever ever acting up like that again" he says as you help him do up his fire suit for the race you were currently at with him.
"I love you too, now go out and get another win for me baby so we can celebrate properly this time" you smile, kissing him before Jon comes forward asking for Lando's presence in the front of the garage.
A/N: I hope you guys think this did the first part justice as so many people requested a Part 2, so I'm really scared that this hasn't done it justice! If you want a rewrite with something better... something longer where its more of a series. Or where it goes the opposite way and it takes her longer to forgive him let me know. I just thought that Y/N and Lando in this one specifically would be the type to maturely talk about things!
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Now one thing I find really stylistically interesting about Batman Beyond, is that a lot of the mechanisms by which the supervillians do their thing come part-and-parcel with the cyberpunk setting, rather than being an aberration resulting purely from the superheroic genre elements. This is the future of a quote-unquote "present-day" DCU, meaning that they've superficially addressed the question of why all the cutting-edge supertech used in the cape scene never seems to see mass adoption by the civilian sector- forty years later, it has. This means that It's never hard to grok where any given villain is getting the resources necessary to execute their gimmick; these people are flashy by our standards, but they live in a world where everyone has access to flying cars and antigravity drones. Half these people are doing the cyberpunk equivalent of going killdozer with repurposed industrial equipment, or kludging together something with off-the-shelf stuff from radio shack, or mounting a machine gun on a technical truck, and literally in the middle of typing this sentence I started the episode where there's mass-market off-the-shelf animal gene-splicing that would have been a whole-ass individualized origin story in the time of Batman: The Animated Series. Even one-off mutants like Inque and Blight are well-understood within the context of the setting, to the extent of Inque being able to make a knockoff of herself on the go.
This is dystopic. Beyond the genre-typical surface-level megacorp domination of society it's dystopic. On the meta-level it's the same dynamic as Superman: The Animated Series, where the reason there's a sudden uptick in weird costumed crime concurrent with the protagonist's debut is purely Doylistic- the hero needs punching bags. But within the logic of the setting, there's nothing special about Willy Watt's decision to go full Carrie using a hijacked construction robot besides the fact that he had somewhat easier access to the thing than the average school-shooter. Spellbinder being able to put together functional illusion-and-mind-control tech on a high-school counselor's salary- when his entire complaint is that he isn't being paid enough- implies that the main barrier to anyone else pulling the same brainwashing stunt is that nobody else thought to. Shriek's sound suit might be more a more roundabout demolition tool than dynamite, but it's still powerful enough to bring down buildings and he created it as a fly-by-night contractor. The consumer tech base is evolved to the point that regardless of when Batman shows up, shit like this should literally never not be happening- they're past an inflection point. I remember Syndrome from The Incredibles having some kind of line about this
#The zoey Ashe series by Jason Pargin had a lot to say about the genie-out-of-the-bottle issue you get with this level of tech saturation#thoughts#meta#batman beyond#batman beyond livewatch
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Okay, in the past few years with different Bad Batch discussions on various social media platforms, I've come across a few too many comments questioning Wrecker's intelligence, saying that Wrecker "isn't smart," he's only "emotionally intelligent," and even (rarely, but it's happened) straight up "he's stupid."
Of course, there are different levels/types of intelligence; my point is that these comments about Wrecker are completely unfounded.
I may make a longer post about this later, but in the meantime allow me to summarize:
(Okay yeah I'm starting with what's probably a headcanon here but I think there's enough unstated evidence in the shows to back me up) Wrecker being a fully commissioned soldier means he is at least as "smart" on average as any of the other clones
His applicable understanding of physics and engineering is such that he is the squad's explosives/demolitions expert, including constructing a weapon on the fly in the middle of a battle
He may not know hand signals or immediately recognize plan numbers, but he DOES know the plans themselves
Relating to the above, Tech describes a plan as "what we did on Felucia" and Wrecker instantly remembers and recognizes it, which to me indicates his memory is outstanding
A few other points:
Being "kid-friendly" does not mean Wrecker is less intelligent overall than his peers
Behaving "childishly" sometimes does not mean Wrecker is less intelligent
Being loud does not mean Wrecker is less intelligent
Being impulsive does not mean Wrecker is less intelligent (spending less time thinking over how to tackle a problem does not mean he's less capable of thinking)
These traits and intelligence are not mutually exclusive
Intelligence does not and should not involve fitting into one "box" or definition
#the bad batch#star wars the bad batch#tbb wrecker#wrecker IS intelligent and brilliant in his own way just as everyone else is#different franchise but i have the same issue with people calling neville longbottom âdumbâ or âstupidâ#or people who say harry and ron aren't smart because they aren't the same level/type of âsmartâ as hermione#we can't all be hermiones nor should we be
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Banal Retired SoapGhost headcanons
Soap still does demolition work, but in the construction field. He's got a nice office job which he has mixed feelings about.
Ghost works part time as museum security, part time as a nightclub bouncer. He finds the museum job pleasant because it's not sensory overload and people rarely talk to him, but boring for the same reasons. By contrast the nightclub is hell on his sensory issues but he enjoys strongarming the odd jerkwad.
By some miracle, Soap's hearing is not completely destroyed. It's still adequate, but he's learned BSL and ASL as a precaution and he's discussed any potential need of hearing aids down the line with his GP.
His ears may be fine, but remember the knee brace in MW2? Yeah, that's still an issue. It's an old battle wound, so he's had time to find helpful therapies, but whenever a ripper of a storm starts blowing in, expect to find him on the sofa with his leg propped up, muttering curses.
Ghost wears unscented deodorants, uses unscented soap, refuses to touch anything with perfume in it. This is a common thing in soldiers with PTSD, apparently. Their neighbor has MCAS and gladly shares product recommendations while breathing a sigh of relief that there's at least one house they can safely visit without triggering a flareup.
Fireworks are one huge pain. At least they don't have the fourth of July to worry about. One time someone in their neighborhood got a little too freaky with the bottle rockets. The next day Ghost came over to "politely tell them to keep it down". There hasn't been a repeat since.
Those neighbors now view him with a combination of terror and awe. As is proper.
Soap has a severe fear of heights due to the whole being-dangled-out-a-window thing. Combined with Ghost's claustrophobia, they both wind up taking the stairs a whole lot.
(Ghost offers to carry Soap on the days when his knee acts up. Soap cuffs him upside the head and laughs at this.)
(He'd still say yes if it meant not subjecting Ghost to an unexpected elevator.)
Civilian life gives them a lot of time to unpack their dual PTSD diagnoses. Ghost has a harder time letting his guard down because he's been on guard for most of his life.
Soap's ADHD was less noticeable in the military, but in their shared living space, he tends to lose track of things. At least once a day he goes, "Babe, where the (thing)?" and Ghost is like, "In the (place), dumbass (affectionate)."
Of the two of them, Soap is more prone to nightmares, usually about Las Almas. Ghost has always been a light sleeper, so he tends to wake up in time to either bring him out of it or comfort him when he jolts awake. Soap is always quick to return the favor.
(Ghost will only admit this to Soap but he gets his best sleep with Johnny in his arms. He loves knowing Soap is safe with him.)
Soap's also prone to getting the wiggles in bed, so sometimes Simon sleeps on top of him for that deep pressure goodness.
It goes both ways, of course. Sometimes Ghost comes home from work and goes, "Floor me." And Soap lays on top of him while he rests on the floor because job loud and stupid, husband warm and soft.
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cw: another wishful ending to bnha. about shigaraki but mostly from izuku's perspective. hint of a future healed!shigaraki x reader.
Izuku is not sure what he should wear for an occasion like this.Â
Between the grueling, far too hands-on curriculum of becoming a hero, becoming the greatest hero Japan had to offer, and the aftermath of meta war that felt like ages (and probably aged him too), it was all too easy for him to forget that he is, in fact, still a teenager.
And a teenager doesnât exactly always know what to wear when going to decide the fate of another manâs life.
Despite the fact that heâs pretty sure Hawks doesnât actually care what he looks like at this point, Inko is kind enough to iron a suit for him and adjust the now shaggy-when-regrown mop of green curls into something professional once heâs dressed. She pats his face, letting her hand rest on the scarred side of his cheek.
âI think it will go well,â she reassures him, even though she can sense that heâs nervous. âYouâre doing a good thing.â
Izuku is mostly sure, possibly 99% sure, but the 1% of uncertainty dissipates with his motherâs words. He nods.
âRight.â
â
About 5 months have passed since the culmination of the meta war. Owing to the valiant efforts of the people, with Quirks and without them, the guidance of multiple construction companies (including the Urarakas who have made not shy of hundreds of millions during this time), and heavy political support from local and abroad, the city is mostly rebuilt, to the point that it would be hard to believe that so much was destroyed in such a short time ago in recent history.
Izuku finds his way to the new Hero commission and stops at the front desk to present identification but is quickly passed through with a big smile from the security guardâs face. Itâs still hard for him to get used to this treatment, but he remains polite and bows before making his way down to the conference room in the email.
A formal Hero Commission email addressed to around ten people, give or take, and heâs probably the last to arrive of those few, all of them seated at a round table once he arrives. Panicking a bit, he checks the time but before he can look at his phone, Hawks takes a moment to give him a once over and then stifle a laugh at his outfit.
âNow, donât you look dapper?â he jokes.
Hawks is wearing a fitted suit himself, but heâs now president of the Hero Commission so itâs not out of the ordinary. All Might, offering a pleasant but weary smile next to him, is also dressed up, but he has been a fan of fitted suits in the public eye recently anyway so thatâs not strange. Best Jeanist is⊠well, Best Jeanist⊠and perfectly coiffed and styled in⊠denim jeans. Mirio, however, is dressed down in a plaid button down and plain slacks, and bounces up to greet him pulling him to sit by him, Nejire, and Tamaki.
âNice threads, Izuku!â Mirio cheers, while Nejire pulls at the sleeve and asks him if he bought it at the thrift store. Tamaki stares at a wall, having hit capacity for the number of people in the room.
Izuku wasnât the last person here because Mirko and Katsuki squabble loudly as they finally enter the room, with Edgeshot in his diminutive form and difficult to see upfront trailing close behind, possibly annoyed (you couldnât tell from this distance). Mirko is wearing athletic wear and Katsuki is wearing-
A suit.
Katsuki and Izuku lock eyes and the recognition sets in at the same time. His cheeks turn red and then he looks away before shuffling into his seat.
Once everyone has been settled and assistants have brought in coffee and pastries, Hawks finally moves to the first order of business.
A hologram shows in the center of the room with two images - one of Tomura Shigaraki taken as an aerial shot while he was screaming, in the midst of the meta war, and just beside it, an image of Tenko Shimura taken just a few days ago, at a construction site using his Decay quirk for demolition as part of a community service effort, quirk disabling wristlets in full display with the ability to be toggled on and off. The contrasts between these two images are evident - the rage distorting the young manâs features as Shigaraki as he is positioned to destroy and kill, unkempt white hair flowing in the air and a small serenity emanating from the young manâs visage as Tenko as he works to disintegrate rubble and clear land for reconstruction, dark hair cropped short and tousled slightly by fall breeze. If you look closely there is a hint of a smile in the second image, and fear in the eyes of the first.
Two very different men.
âWeâre here to discuss our next steps with Shig-, Tenko Shimura.â
All Might lets out a breath no one knew he was holding. Izuku wonders if itâs by All Mightâs request that Hawks has used his correct name, perhaps to honor his mentor and Tenkoâs grandmother. He makes a mental note to always do the same.Â
Katsuki keeps his lips pressed into a straight line and doesnât say a word; Izuku doesnât blame him, and in another circumstance would have never imagined being willing to sit for this conversation so easily, but he also appreciates that Katsuki is present for this vote at the very least.
âLetâs go through the facts.â
Hawks, pacing around the room, recounts the actions of the man once known as Shigaraki Tomura, as well as delineates what actions are his specifically and what actions were in conjunction with All For One. He shares testimonials from various psychiatrists who have worked with Tenko in this short period of rehabilitation before this discussion and the people who have worked with him on community service. He provides excerpts from social media influencers as well as political and religious opinions.Â
The case is long and drawn out and by the time he is done, Mirko is yawning loudly and Mirio is trying very hard not to fall asleep. Aizawa, however, is asleep in the corner of the room, having shown up dead last, and not interested in a word being said.
A vote is meant to be cast by the end of today. Izuku wonders if Tenko is on the other side of that door, waiting for his fate to be decided.Â
If no one can agree to rehabilitate him, he will most likely go to jail, deprived of the ability to use any Quirks possibly for the rest of his life. His best chance is now, as Izuku does not imagine any turnover in power will allow him as much amnesty as the current group here.
Izuku has spent the last few months pleading to the Hero Commission to consider his proposal, using the very fact that Tenko relinquished his OFA-related Quirks back to him almost immediately as a perfect example.
Tenko did give his inner child a second chance, and Tenko did fight back. He just needed help.
âAll motions to go forth with a continued rehabilitation plan, please say-â
Mirko raises her hand immediately, interrupting.
âAye.â
Placing both her feet on the edge of the table, she defends herself before anyone can ask.
âIf he tries some shit again, I get a rematch,â she says, grinning. All Might gives her a pleased look but says nothing.
Aizawa chimes in from inside his sleeping bag.
âAye.â
While Izukuâs eyes widen, Katsuki finally interjects.
âHave you guys forgotten this man killed me?â
âAnd lifted you up with his toes.â Mirko adds. âBut you lived, didnât you, pipsqueak?â she says, grinning.Â
Best Jeanist, not at all pleased by the joke, raises his hand.
âNay. This is a ridiculous idea.â
âWhatâs ridiculous is your outfits but we donât-â
All Might clears his throat. âAye.â
Endeavor takes a look at All Might, crossing his arms over his chest. His retirement is still hot off the presses, and he chooses to take a step back here too.
âAbstain.â
Izukuâs heart is racing and heâs not exactly sure why. Part of this waiting period involves Izuku keeping an eye on Tenko and in repeated conversations, he has always gotten the sense that Tenko could change but his hope had been tempered. The truth was, as much as he wanted to save Tenko, a small part of him was still a little angry for the harm he did, and he imagined that if he felt that way, it was only a fraction of what the public and his peers must feel.
But today, there seems to be a chance.
âAye!â Mirio and Nejire say in unison and Tamaki quickly follows up.Â
Katsuki rises suddenly and leaves the room and while Izuku wants to follow him, he knows that itâs a waste of time.
Thatâs a problem for days to come.
âAnd why exactly are we forgiving him?â Best Jeanist asks, as he rises himself to go after his student.
âBecause we donât plan to leave anyone behind,â Edgeshot finally admits. Best Jeanist shakes his head.
âIt stays Nay for me but itâs your responsibility.âÂ
He files out of the room, but Hawksâ smile isnât deterred, knowing heâll come around.Â
The majority chooses hope.
â
Four and a half years have passed since that vote.
Izuku watches his friend, a girl from the support class a year above him who isnât Hatsume but just as good in her own realm, fiddle with tracking devices and quirk-neutralizing wristlets attached to the first iteration of Entropyâs Hero suit. Entropyâs hero costume doesnât include a mask, but Izuku has an inkling that no one will recognize him prior to his debut as the man who almost laid waste to the entire country. There is something about a personâs soul that can permeate a vessel, itâs a reminder that beauty is only skin deep, but goodness will shine through no matter what one looks like.
Tenko is however somewhat handsome in the way that his Hero grandmother was beautiful and that helps. Wavy, dark hair frames his face to a shoulder length, and his dark eyes are actually warm now that heâs had time to shed off most of the loneliness. Heâs filled out slightly with better food and less angst, which is another thing that is sure to make him more appealing to the masses.Â
Izuku can still sense the trepidation however in the slight tremble of Tenkoâs fingertips as he holds them out for the support engineer to readjust the gloves, and wonders if heâs projecting.
Part of the arrangement for Entropyâs debut is for Deku and Entropy to work as partners for at least a year to satisfy the civilians who still donât trust him (with good reason) as a contingency plan in case Tenko changes his mind about being a productive member of society and needs someone to stop him a second time.
Izuku is pretty sure he wonât fall back into that dark place again by now, even if a select few will never, ever forgive him. Even Katsuki still grumbles, but agrees that Izuku might be right.Â
âI feel like a leashed dog still,â Tenko finally pipes up as the engineer adjusts the literal silver collar on his neck. Itâs meant to be a joke but itâs not exactly false. Izuku offers him a small consoling smile.
âIt makes the commission happy, so bear with it, I guess.â Izuku says. Itâs a lame response, he admits, but itâs all he has to offer.Â
Between the emergency shock collar thatâs stylized to appear as part of the prototype suit, a physical tracker, and internal restraints, there are a lot of things to stop Tenko from becoming Tomura again, but at least the adjustment of all of these in the homey atmosphere of Izukuâs apartment feels less like house arrest.Â
Izukuâs girlfriend peers in from time to time from where sheâs holed up studying for clinical examinations to check on their progress, a steaming mug in her hand. The girls wave at each other before she disappears again and locks the door, loud music with heavy bass playing from her computer speakers.Â
Itâs a miracle sheâs not afraid of Tenko given Tomura almost killed her during the meta war too, but Izuku understands that this is a testament to how much she trusts his judgment.Â
âThank you for doing this,â he says finally to his friend. She practically beams.
âIâm just giving you the âyour future wife is my bestieâ discount.â
Izuku goes red at the ears and Tenko stifles a laugh. She turns and gives him a look and he immediately looks away, somewhat startled by how quickly she gets into his face.
âIt is however a really big favor, I just worry youâll be somewhat accountable if something goes wrong, too.â
Tenko frowns. âIâm right here, you know,â he murmurs. He pauses before he uses her professional name, which turns out to not be so professional at all. â... Sparkles.â
Sparkles doesnât hear him, the jitteriness of three days of no sleep in the setting of piled up audits at her security technologies company getting to her. âJust donât forget to get me the paperwork, Izuku.âÂ
She then turns her attention back to Tenko finally as Izuku searches for a pen in a basket under the coffee table.
Tenko again, possibly too affected by how quickly, she moves, seems to stand up a little straighter as she sizes him up.
âAre you planning on hurting anyone?â
Sparkles hadnât realized Izukuâs girlfriend had left the room again to grab more sugar for her tea.
âIf he says yes, what exactly are you gonna do, babe?â she hollers, disappearing again before waiting for the answer. Izuku chuckles.
âIâd ask him if he meant it,â she yells back. She turns to him again, looking up at him through her eyelashes. âDo you mean it? Are you planning on hurting anyone?â
Tenko tenses up and Izuku tries not to laugh, wondering if he should leave Tenko to Sparklesâ charms or allow him to rest.
Regardless, he has great aspiration for the worldâs former greatest villainâs future, yet.
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You Can Have It - Chapter 3
Alpha!Feysand x Omega!Reader
chapter 2 | chapter 4 | series masterlist
Story Summary: You've been a baker for 75 years, and are finally moving on from the Winter Court to the City of Velaris to start your own bakery after your grandmother passes. After your grand opening, the High Lord and Lady of Night become daily visitors to your bakery for months, every day having your most popular pastry- one that increases fertility for a short time. All the while, the two alphas want nothing more than to call themselves yours.
Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, no rhys and feyre đ
Words: ~5.3k
Author's Note: it's here! There will be a second chapter posted soon as well, I needed to cut this one in half otherwise it won't fit in one post. And I rlly want to get to the scene meeting Rhys and Feyre aaaahhhhh I hope you guys like this chapter!
18+ only pls
đ€đ©”đ€đđ€
Tuesday had passed quickly for you, spent with you writing down everything you needed for your bakery, the apartment, and garden in the building process.
You had a visions in your head for exactly how it should look- a log cabin similar in style to those in Winter, with a set of stained glass double doors depicting the cycle of dawn, day, and night during the winter season. The main floor of the bakery would be divided into two parts, with the actual kitchen area being in the back, separated by a wall stretching two thirds of the way across, leaving an open archway to connect the two on the left side. Windows of course, some in the front of the bakery as well as along the sides, and one that takes up most of the back wall of the kitchen, so that youâll always be able to stare out the Sidra while preparing you baked goods.
At the far right of the kitchen, away from the access into the shop, you were going to have a spiral staircase leading up to your apartment if that was a possibility.
Upstairs, you would have a personal kitchen of your own, also against right side of the back wall of the building, with another large window to offer you the same benefit as the floor below. To the left youâd have your bathroom, sectioned off with walls- you were most excited about the large, possibly custom tub youâd have put in, with more than enough room for you to soak with your wings in the water if you wished.
The indoor part of the upstairs should cover about two thirds of the top floor, with your bedroom not separated by a wall from the kitchen. You wanted to feel free and open in your new home. That left the rest of the second floor for your small garden you were planning to have. Viviane had made sure you knew that you could take some of the plants your grandmother had lovingly planted and tended to. She had loved that garden so much, and had done as much as she could to revive the garden after coming back from captivity, teaching you to tend to them before her cursed illness had gotten too bad.
You were planning to have the space enchanted to act as a temperature controlled greenhouse, that way the frail Winter native plants could survive even in the summer. Among them would be a few bushes: hornberry, the fertility enhancing berries, chillberry, which grow berries that help to alleviate heats, and saiberry, a helpful berry and leaf for reducing the symptoms of ruts. You would also have a variety of medicinal herbs that you used in your pastries related to general health.
You were beyond excited to start drawing up the plans for the building as soon as you had the proper permits. When you went to bed that night, it was all you could think about.
Wednesday morning, you awoke to a note from Marcus, telling you that the demolition and construction permits were approved, and to get yourself over to your lot as soon as you could.
It was only seven in the morning, but you rushed to dress for the winter weather quickly, flying down the stairs and quickly but carefully making your way to the Rainbow.
More snow had fallen overnight, and hardly anyone was out at this time. Most of the streets were still untouched by fae, and silent with the extra help of the snow. You reached the edge of the Rainbow quickly, and spotted Marcus among a dozen other men, all dressed warmly and carrying a variety of construction tools or busying themselves with the two large carts in the middle of the street, attached to two massive horses.
âY/N!â Marcus exclaimed as soon as he met your eyes, marching over to you and pulling you back to the group. âThis is our new boss for the next couple of months, gents, be nice to her, alright?â The men all nodded their heads in agreement, keeping their eyes respectful when they did dart across your form, though many lingered on your wings. âSo, Y/N, would you like to take the first swing?â Marcus asked you, already handing you a heavy sledgehammer.
âWhy not?â You said lightly, approaching the dilapidated building. You took a swing at one of the windows, and glass went flying into the building. The males behind you whooped, then followed your lead and began tearing down the building as quickly and effectively as they could. You turned back to Marcus, handing him the sledgehammer.
âY/N, if youâre available now, Iâd like to start drawing up the floor plans for your bakery,â Marcus suggested, and your face broke into a grin.
âIâd love nothing more than that, Marcus. But, could we get breakfast first? I came as soon as I woke up,â you said, blushing when your stomach growled, as if to prove your point.
Marcus only chuckled and took your arm, leading you East to the Palace of Flame and Steel. âOf course we can get breakfast, thereâs this cute little restaurant that should be open right now, they serve some amazing breakfast foods there.â
As promised, the food in the cozy restaurant was delicious. Youâd had a scramble with potatoes, peppers, onions, and sausage, topped with a good amount of cheese. The two of you left feeling stuffed, and made your way to his office, shucking off your winter gear and hanging it on the hooks near the door.
Marcus quickly started a fire in the fireplace, adding some much appreciated heat to the room. The two of you settled in around his desk, and Marcus pulled out a notepad, quill and ink.
"So, do you know what type of building you'd like? Brick, stone, wood..."
"I'd prefer having a log cabin style of building, if that's a possibility," you said, hoping that it would be.
Marcus smiled at you and wrote down your answer. "Of course we can, and we can even go to the lumber yard in a couple of days to pick out the type of wood you'd like, Y/N. Now... what were you thinking for the floor plan?"
"I want it to be a two story building, with the top floor being dedicated as an apartment and also a garden, if everything works out."
"A garden on the second floor?"
You nodded your head. "Yes, I'm planning to have it enchanted so that I can grow some Winter crops year round, and they'll be safer off the ground, I think."
"Alright, that should be doable enough. If you'd like I can direct you to an interior designer who also specializes in home and business enchantments, she should be able to make that garden happen for you."
"Perfect!" You said, clapping your hands together excitedly. Everything was already seeming possible.
The two of you spent the next five hours going over every detail that you wanted built into the building, and by the end of it he had a preliminary sketch of the building.
"The main problem with your spiral staircase would be getting the tub and furniture up and down the stairs. I do happen to have a couple of Illyrians working in my company right now, so we should be able to get the tub up before the roof's construction is done, but the furniture would most likely need to be fully assembled upstairs, or we fly it in before the roof is finished."
You bit your lip for a moment, considering your options. "That would be fine, getting everything in before the roof is finished. Would there be any problems with doing that?"
Marcus shook his head. "No, it's more just something to consider. The spiral staircase will save you some space, so it's a good idea for your floor plan to keep as much space on the first floor for the bakery. Go ahead and look over the blueprint, and tell me if anything is off." He slid the paper over to you, careful not to smear any of the still drying ink.
Your eyes greedily took in the floor plans, already looking exactly how you wanted it. The main floor was divided in the way you had pictured, and the kitchen would be wide enough to accommodate your wings and even another person, if you ended up needing to hire someone to help you.
Only one thing was missing, something you'd hadn't thought of until now.
"Would it be possible to have a fireplace on both floors? On the main floor, about halfway through the front room and on the left, and on the top floor one on the right, after the spiral staircase?"
Marcus looked at the plans for a moment before answering you. "Yes, that should be doable, especially if we allow the chimney to stick out and along the side of the building for the first floor one." He quickly sketched in the fireplace on the floor plan, then turned to the exterior mock up and added the chimney to the side. "Does that look fine to you?"
"Yes, that looks perfect! Thank you!"
"It's no problem, Y/N," Marcus said with a soft smile. "If you think of anything else you'd like in the blueprints, you can either send me a note with it or come here, I'm normally in from six in the morning to six at night."
"I'll make sure to let you know, but I honestly think we got everything down!" You said excitedly.
"I'm glad to hear that, Y/N. The tear down process should be finished by the end of the week, including getting someone in to cast a charm to keep snow from falling over the lot. Then the actual building process after that, as long as everything goes right and all we need to build is available, shouldnât take more than two months. Now, would you like me to show you to that interior designer I mentioned?" He offered.
"Oh, I'd love that!" Right as you said it, your stomach growled loudly once again. You looked up at him sheepishly. "Want to go to lunch first?" You asked with a chuckle.
"I'd love that," Marcus replied, already standing from his chair and stretching.
You did the same, finally feeling the tension that had built in your body from sitting for so long. Your wings fluttered slightly as they stretched, before you finally relaxed once more.
The two of you threw on your outerwear again and headed out of Marcus's office, and you let him lead you to another restaurant, a different one than this morning.
"This is my favorite spot for lunch, they have these delicious sandwiches," Marcus said as he held the door open for you, letting you walk in first before following you.
It smelled heavenly inside, and if your watering mouth was anything to go by, you knew he was correct.
"I'll have whatever you're having," you told Marcus before he stepped up to the counter. "I'm sure whatever it is will be tasty, but I can't choose between all of those options," you laughed.
"That's fine, Y/N. Any foods you want to avoid?" Marcus asked, looking down at you as you shook your head. "Alright then." He stepped up to the counter, you following right behind him. "We'll have two of your cheesesteaks, please.â Marcus went to hand over his bank card like he had for breakfast this morning, but you beat him to it, grinning at him when he put his card away while shaking his head, a matching expression on his face.
After you paid, the two of you took a seat at a table near the windows, only waiting a couple of minutes to be served your sandwiches. âThank you.â
âItâs no problem, dearie,â the older high fae said with a smile before she walked back behind the counter.
âAnd thank you, Y/N, for buying me this delicious lunch,â Marcus said to you, right before taking a large bite of his sandwich.
âWell, you did pay for breakfast,â you said before you followed suit, finding the sandwich made of thinly sliced beef, onions, peppers, and cheese to be just as good as heâd said it would be.
âHowâs Velaris been treating you so far?â He asked you after a few minutes.
You swallowed your bite, then said âItâs been really nice so far, everyoneâs been very welcoming and I just feel so lucky to be here, and already be making so much progress on my business.â
Marcus smiled at you. âIâm glad to hear it, Y/N. I hope everything continues to go your way.â
âSame here. Howâs your life been treating you?â
âOh, itâs going well right now. My business has been doing better than ever in the past two years since I had a contract with the High Lady, and I happen to have a very sweet new client,â Marcus replied, and his words made you blush.
âThatâs good to hear. What was it like working for the High Lady?â
âFeyre and the High Lord, Rhys, were both extremely easy to work with, pretty similar to how itâs been working with you. They knew exactly what they wanted and were good at describing it. It was an honor to work with them, and one of the best experiences Iâve had since taking over the business.â
âThey sound like a lovely pair of rulers for the Court, then.â
âOh yes, I feel we are one of the best treated cities in all of Prythian. And theyâve even begun taking steps to change how Illyria and the Hewn City are run,â Marcus added.
The two of you finished eating, and all you could think of was the High Lord and Lady, and that all of the good youâd heard about them in Winter had to be true, if Marcus, a citizen of Velaris, believed it to be true as well.
âNow, letâs get you to Gabrellaâs shop, she is newer to the business, only having moved here five years ago, but all of my clients that Iâve sent to her have nothing but good things to say about her,â Marcus said, extending an arm to you after heâd returned your plates to the front counter.
He led you a few blocks away from the restaurant, deeper into the Palace of Flame and Steel. The two of you stopped in front of cute, red brick building with flower beds lining the front, covered in snow at the moment. Marcus opened the door for you, and you stepped inside, immediately loving the cozy feel of the shop, and you spotted an fae female, with large, black leathery wings coming from her back.
They were absolutely beautiful.
Youâd heard of Illyrians before, and as a child had thought that wings without feathers could not possibly be pretty, but your child self was proved wrong the moment you laid eyes on her wings.
âWelcome in- oh, Marcus! Another client of yours, I presume?â The fae asked as the two of you made your way back to the counter she was seated at.
Her smell hit you, a sweet blend of mountain air, honey, and some type of berry that you couldnât quite place- an omega. That instantly put you at ease. Itâs not that Marcusâs scent wasnât nice, the snow and pine mix was pleasant, but knowing that at least one of the people youâd be working with for the next couple of months is an omega was calming.
âYes, my name is Y/N. Iâm going to be opening a bakery with an apartment upstairs in the Rainbow soon, and Marcus is helping with the construction aspect. He said that youâre an interior designer?â
The Illyrian nodded her head and replied, âYes, my name is Gabrella. I do interior design work and household and business enchantments.â
âWould you be able to show her a bit of your work, Rella?â Marcus asked. âSheâs wanting a greenhouse for year round Winter native plants, and I know you just recently finished something similar.â
Gabrellaâs eyes lit up at that, and she stood from her spot behind the counter. âI would be delighted to show you something like that, Y/N. Marcus, you can come too, if you donât have anything else to do.â
Marcus looked at the clock on the wall to the left, sighing when he saw the time. âNo, I should be getting back to check on the boys, make sure the demolition is going to plan,â he said, making his way to the door. âY/N, remember that you can come by my office from six to six if you need anything, and youâre always free to stop by your lot at any time, alright?â
âThanks you, Marcus. Iâll probably see you sometime tomorrow.â
âThat sounds good,â he said, leaving with a wave.
âBye Marcus!â Gabrella said right before he shut the door. âAlright, Y/N, Iâll have you come upstairs with me, my garden is on the third floor.â
You followed the other fae up the stairs, then up one more set, coming out onto a beautiful rooftop garden, filled with lovely blossoming tropical flowers. The air was warm and humid, even with their being no walls or roof.
âThis is amazing,â you said, trailing your hands over a few of the blooms lightly. âHow were you able to do this?â You asked, turning to Gabrella.
âWell, it took a couple of years for me to get the enchantments perfect, but itâs not too different from doing an indoor temperature control charm. It does require a bit more magical power, especially if the plants need any else besides the temperature controlled. Like the humidity, that was the part that took me the longest to get down, but now that I have, all of my sweet little plants are thriving,â Gabrella explained, looking down fondly at all of the flowers sheâd been able to grow thanks to her magical talent.
âWould you be able to do something similar for me?â You asked hopefully.
âI believe I could, it may take a couple of tries to get the climate just right for you. Do you have an idea of when your building will be finished enough to start the garden?â
âNot quite, though Marcus said the whole process should take a little over two months. Iâm just not sure when the second floor would be available to put the garden and enchantments in.â
âThatâs perfectly fine, we can play it by ear. Were you wanting my services for anything else?â Gabrella asked, gesturing for you to head back downstairs.
âYes, I was hoping that you would be my interior designer as well, along with any other enchantments Iâd need for my building.â
âWonderful, Iâll grab a contract for you right now,â Gabrella said after you took a seat in one of the stools in front of the counter. She rifled through a filing cabinet, pulling out a few pieces of paper. âAlright, before anything gets signed, Iâd like to know what type of enchantments youâre going to want, as well as the areas of interior design youâd like help with.â
âObviously you know about the garden,â you said, and the both of you chuckled as she wrote it down. âPlus temperature control for both floors of the building, a fireproofing charm for the kitchen if youâre able to do that.â
âOh, yes, thatâs a popular one, with the city being tightly packed everyone wants to avoid causing a fire in case it takes out a whole neighborhood,â Gabrella said. âWere you going to have a kitchen in the apartment upstairs?â
âYes, I canât believe I forgot to mention that,â you laughed, surprised that you were missing a few details. It had to be all the excitement, you had been drawing up floor plans all day. âDo you do plumbing enchantments?â
âMhm, as long as you have actual plumbing pipes installed in the building, weâre able to get hot and cold water running, as well as connect it to the cityâs sewer system,â she answered. âKnowing Marcus, heâs already gone over that with you?â
You nodded your head. âHe sure did, he was very adamant in making sure I knew where all of the pipes would be going through the wall.â
âYes, heâs very thorough like that. Thatâs why heâs one of the most in demand builders during the typical construction season. Did you have any other enchantments you were hoping for? If you canât think of them now, Iâm always able to add to your total bill, itâs just better in my experience to have as full a picture of the cost before we begin doing the actual work.â
You wracked your brain for any other spells you might need- âIâd like an enchantment that will keep the scent and sounds of the second floor separate from the first floor,â you stated, heat rising to your cheeks.
âThatâs a good one!â Gabrella said enthusiastically, writing it down on the paper. âItâs very helpful for if you want to keep your business open with another staff member while youâre in heat, I have that one on my own apartment upstairs,â the omega said with a kind smile. âAnything else, or should we move on to the interior design portion?â
You couldnât think of another enchantment you might need at the moment. âInterior design, but Iâll let you know if I think of something else.â
âVery good. For the bakery portion, what were you wanting help with?â
âIâd definitely like your help in picking out the furniture, the appliances, and the general look of the inside, and any recommendations or help with a stained glass artist that creates door panels. I do know generally what I want it to look like, but being new to town I would have no idea of where to start.â You thought about that for a moment. âSo pretty much everything about it, Iâd like your help with,â you giggled.
Gabrella joined you, her laugh so pleasant and fun. âThatâs perfectly fine, I love helping create an entire vision! Theyâre the most fun for me, when my client knows exactly what they want and we just have to scavenger hunt for it all around the city.â
âThatâs good, otherwise this would be a real chore for you,â you said jokingly, already loving Gabrellaâs personality.
âFor the second floor, what were you wanting help with?â
âMost everything again, though with the bedroom Iâll need a bit less help, nesting needs are pretty easy to satisfy on your own,â you replied, mind conjuring a soft nest filled with fabrics in light blues, silver, and white.
âI get that, nests and bedrooms are so personal to us omegas.â Gabrellaâs smile was soft as she finished writing everything down. âAlright, I believe with the number and complexity of some of the enchantments, that part will run you for around 50,000 gold marks, and we do offer lifetime warranties on all of them. So if one starts to go faulty, just stop by and Iâll come and fix it as soon as I can for you. And the interior design portion will be around 25,000, and that will include the price of most items, delivery of them, and getting everything in place for you, as well as my help and advice in picking out items. Does a total of 75,000 gold marks sound reasonable to you, with these terms?â Gabrella asked, sliding a contract over to you.
You read it, including the warranty, and thought it all sounded perfectly reasonable. You picked up the extra quill she had sitting in an ink pot and signed your name to the contract. âYes, this all sounds fine to me. Did you want to take payment now, or later?â
âIf you have your bank card on you at the moment-â you were already pulling it out. âThen Iâll take a fifty percent deposit for a total of 37,500 gold marks now, and once the project is complete Iâll take the other half of the payment, plus or minus however much it falls from the estimate.â She pressed your bank card to the ledger on her desk, then handed it back to you. âIâm so happy to get to work with you, Y/N. You seem like a lovely person so far, and I do love a good bakery.â
âIâm looking forward to working with you as well, Gabrella. And Iâm glad to know another omega in the city, Iâve only met one other omega here so far.â
âYes, there arenât too many of us here, but itâs so safe and free, I think we have a higher population of omegas than most other cities in Prythian. Iâm sure youâll meet more soon enough. Also, you can call me Rella. Weâll be working together for a while, and I have this funny little feeling that weâll be friends,â Rella said kindly. âNow, would you like to go look at some kitchen stoves and counters if you have time?â
You beamed- nothing would have excited you more at the moment. âI would love to do that, itâs one of the areas Iâm looking forward to furnishing most!â
Rella offered her arm to you, which you gladly took. âPerfect! Now, what type of color scheme were you wanting for the kitchen? It might change which shops we go to.â
âI think⊠soft pastels? Possibly winter themed, or maybe in pinks.â
Rella grinned at you. âIâm liking you more and more with every passing minute,â she said, dragging you away from her shop after locking it up. âWeâre going to Aranaâs shop, she has the cutest kitchen and dining room furniture you will every see!â
In a few minutes, after a couple of twists and turns through the streets, you arrived at a pastel pink shop, looking very much out of place next to the mostly dark, wooden building surrounding it. Rella pulled you inside, shouting âArana! I have a new client, youâre going to love her!â
A female stepped out from a back room, ice blonde hair and white wings at her back.
Peregryn. Another Peregryn.
Youâd only ever met youâd mother, no others of your kind before. And as you got closer to her- and omega, with a soft scent of pine, cinnamon, and fresh air.
âWell, itâs rare to meet another Peregryn in Velaris, my name is Arana. And yours isâŠ?â
âY/N, itâs nice to meet you,â you said as you shook her hand.
âItâs nice to meet you as well,â Arana responded warmly. âYou said sheâs a client of yours, Rella?â
âYes, sheâs building a bakery in the Rainbow-â
âWonderful! Iâve been wanting a bakery on this side of the Sidra for so long, I hate walking all the way over to the other side in the winter,â Arana interrupted, the looked to Rella sheepishly. âSorry, Rella, go on please?â
âI know, Iâm excited about it too,â Rella laughed. âShes working with Marcus, and it sounds like theyâre still in the process of tearing down the previous building, but the two of us would like to start looking for furniture, countertops, and of course stoves.â
âOh, is it gonna be a cute bakery?â Arana asked hopefully, and you nodded your head.
âYes, itâs going to look like a log cabin, and Iâm hoping the furniture I get will make it look cute and cozy inside!â You gush, so happy that there are people already excited about your business, even if you were going to be paying them a lot of money in the process. The two of them sound genuinely excited about it, so that didnât matter.
âOh, youâll need log chairs, probably with a selection of different colors of cushions, maybe even some log benches, plus log tables of course to go with the little log theme-â
âAll of that sounds great! Do you have any in here?â You asked, already wanting to see some.
âI donât have any log furniture at the moment, but the shop next door does. Iâll be able to provide the cushions for them, though Iâd recommend waiting to pick them out until you know the type of wood youâre using, so that you get the best color match,â Arana offered, pointing to the shop east of hers. âI do have plenty of stove and countertop options, if youâre wanting to go for bright colors in the kitchen. And I do make display cases as well, when youâre ready to look for those.â
You smiled in excitement and said, âShow me the stoves, please.â
đ€đ©”đ€đđ€
The three of you spent the next few hours looking at all Arana had to offer, and you found many different options that you liked. It all depended on what color scheme you ended up going with, but whether it would be done in blues, whites, and silvers or in soft pinks and purples, you were sure youâd be buying from Aranaâs store.
The designs and sturdiness of her furnishings were perfect in your opinion, and you were so excited to see your kitchen come together once the building was finished.
You and Rella waved goodbye to Arana as you departed, promising to come back in a few weeks to finalize your decisions, having been sent home with a pamphlet filled with the designs of furniture she offered so that you could think on it further.
You and Rella parted at her shop, leaving you to walk back to the Inn alone, relishing in the sounds of the city as it came alive for the night.
It was nearly seven in the evening when you passed by a restaurant at the end of the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, right next to the bridge that would get you home. The smell coming from the restaurant was heavenly, full of garlic and smelling as though it could burn your tongue with the spice alone. You entered the restaurant, and were quickly seated at the bar, admiring the lively atmosphere before looking over the menu. They served noodle bowls, most of them having a between three and five little peppers drawn next to their names. Judging by the smell in the air, you wouldnât survive more than a two pepper dish, so you choose the one that had the most garlic in it, sautĂ©ed with chicken, zucchini, green cabbage and onions, and of course noodles.
The dish you got was fantastic, as garlicky as youâd hoped for and spicy enough to bring tears to your eyes.
All of the food youâd had in Velaris so far was amazing, and you were excited to delve further into the cookbook that you had back in your room, if these were the types of recipes that were waiting for you.
After paying, you made your way back to the inn more slowly than before, taking time to admire the people skating on the now frozen over Sidra. Everyone seemed to be happy.
It was nice to be a part of that, of a city so joyous at all times.
By the time you made it to your room, it was past eight, and you wanted nothing more than a hot bath and some sleep.
You stripped out of your dress after taking off your outerwear and boots, then peeled off your tights and underthings. You would need to do laundry soon, but thatâs a problem for tomorrow.
Your bath was lovely, the hot water warming you nicely and stealing the tension from your muscles. Your bed was even lovelier, so fluffy and soft, and you drifted off to sleep just a few minutes after your head landed on the pillow.
Series Taglist: @icey--stars @breadsticks2004
#you can have it#a/b/o dynamics#a/b/o#acotar omegaverse#alpha!feyre x omega!reader x alpha!rhys#alpha!feysand x omega!reader#acotar a/b/o#omega!reader#feysand x reader omegaverse#feysand x reader#acotar fic#acotar#acotar fanfic#poly!feysand x reader#tato writes
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My star darling, made of metal
PAIRING: Grace/Koleda/Anton/Ben x Female Reader (Familia) (Fluff)
SUMMARY: Graceâs new daughter android, (Y/N), is truly a piece of work.
Grace finally made her newest daughter, you, her pride and joy. You werenât like your older siblings, big machines that cause the very ground to shake. You were an android. A cute, small girl, that could blend into society better than your siblings.
Grace just loves to spoil you rotten, covering up any issues you cause. Want a new upgrade? Just give her a few days and youâll be even better than before. As much as she loves you though, Grace wonât hesitate to scold you if even she feels youâve gone too far.
Koleda almost finished chewing out Grace for making another living machine when you suddenly exploded a boulder; it had been blocking the path for Belobog to continue construction, and you removed it in a matter of seconds. Suddenly, you were promoted to being a member of Belobog Heavy Industries Destruction Team.
Thanks to having bombs constantly ticking inside you, youâve developed a hyperactive personality; always running around in hollows alone and blowing up stuff as you go. Those bombs also work as great self defense tools.
If an ethereal, or hollow raider, tried to destruct the team or even kidnap you, its bombs away! Kabooms heard from far off into the distance. And everyone at Belobog already knows what had happened.
Between the loud noises, broken machinery, high costs, and stressed workersâŠKoleda needs a year long vacation. Sheâll nag at Grace for days on end to reprogram you; make you more docile, follow the rules, more self conscious, anything! Koleda has had a vein pulsating on her forehead and just waiting to burst. On top of that, youâre so patronizing; treating her like a fellow kid. She just knows youâre doing it on purpose.
Your explosions never fail to scare Anton just a toe nail out of an early grave. Heâs had more chest pains since your arrival. The worst one being when you took his bro to go on an adventure and he came back almost half broken. Since then Anton has put locks on all important equipment and has his eyes on you like a hawk!
The costsâŠthe billsâŠthe damagesâŠGrace really outdid herself this time. For once, Ben couldnât figure out how to break even this month thanks to your âdemolition abilitiesâ. Which, in reality, was just you throwing grenades, bombs, even firecrackers, at rundown buildings and hoping for the best. Itâs gotten so bad that Benâs starting to gain bald spots where his once fluffy fur had been.
- Fin
#headcanon#female reader#zenless zone zero x reader#grace howard x reader#grace howard#anton ivanov x reader#anton ivanov#koleda belobog x reader#koleda belobog#ben bigger x reader#ben bigger
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CANDLE IN THE WIND
An old abandoned candle factory is something you don't get to see very often. Especially one that has been abandoned many years ago, yet still shows no trace of vandalism; only natural decay...
When you see these two 19th century mansions located next to each other, you would not suspect that a gem of industrial heritage is hidden behind the protected rococo facades. Both houses, although empty, still offered some nice corners, but the real surprise lay in the small factory behind them.
The brick building was originally used as a gin distillery, probably in the mid-19th century. However, around the turn of the century it was transformed into a candle factory.
Candles were mainly made for churches and chapels, such as Easter candles. The factory remained active until the mid-1980s and has been frozen in time ever since.
More than 40 years later, the entire building is threatened with demolition to make way for new apartment buildings. However, both houses were included in the inventory of architectural heritage. The permit to demolish all buildings was issued by the city, but was annulled after an appeal procedure before the Council for Permit Disputes. Two years have now passed and there appears to be no further movement in the demolition and construction...
#urban exploration#urbex#abandoned#urban relics#decay#derelict#abandoned places#ue#photography#urbanexploration#abandoned addiction#abandoned house#urbexpeople#urbexworld#urbexplaces#urbexphotography#belgium#candle factory#candle in the wind#roccoco
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"In âMemory Voids and Role Reversals,â Palestinian political science professor Dana El Kurd writes of her jarring experience, hearing of the October 7th massacres by Hamas while visiting the Holocaust Tower at the Jewish Museum in Berlin. She notes the historic irony of Holocaust survivors seeking security from future oppression by expelling another people from their homeland by the hundreds of thousands, ghettoizing them in enclaves enforced by military checkpoints, and controlling them with collective punishment.
The irony of a state formed as the âantithesisâ to the ghetto using ghettoization as a strategy of control is not lost on Palestinians. This infrastructure of coercion went hand in hand, of course, with ever-present physical violence â imprisonment, home demolitions, air strikes and more.
She quotes Aristide Zolbergâs observation that âformation of a new state can be a ârefugee-generating process.ââ
This is not only true of Palestinians. The Westphalian nation-state, which has been the normative component of the international system since the Treaty of Westphalia, necessarily entails (especially since the post-1789 identification of nationalism with the nation-state) the suppression of ethnic identity to a far greater extent than the expression of any such identity. Every constructed national identity associated with a âState of the X Peopleâ has necessarily involved the suppression and homogenization of countless ethnicities present in the territory claimed by that state. At the time of the French Revolution, barely half the âFrenchâ population spoke any of the many langue dâoil dialects of northern France, let alone the dialect of the Ile de France (the basis for the official âFrenchâ language). The rest spoke Occitan dialects like Provençal, or non-Romance languages like Breton (whose closest living relative is Welsh). The same is true of Catalan, Aragonese, Basque, and Galician in Spain, the low-German languages and now-extinct Wendish in Germany, the non-Javanese ethnicities of Indonesia, and so on. Heads of state issue sonorous pronouncements concerning the âNigerian Peopleâ or âZimbabwean People,â in reference to multi-ethnic populations whose entire âidentityâ centers on lines drawn on a map at the Berlin Conference.
When I say official national languages were established through the suppression of their rivals, I mean things like the residential schools of the United States and Canada punishing Native children for using their own languages. Or schools around the world shaming students with signs reading âI Spoke Welsh (or Breton, or Provencal, or Catalan, or Basque, or Ainu, or an African vernacular instead of the English, French, etc., lingua franca). And so on.
And when we consider the range of artificial national identities that were constructed by suppressing other real ethnicities, we canât forget the âJewish Peopleâ of Israel. Its construction occurred part and parcel with the suppression of diasporic Jewish ethnic identities all over Europe and the Middle East. The âNew Jewishâ identity constructed by modern Zionism was associated with the artificial revival of Hebrew, which had been almost entirely a liturgical language for 2300 years, as an official national language. And this, in turn, was associated with the suppression â both official and unofficial â of the actually existing Jewish ethnicities associated with the Yiddish, Ladino, and Arabic languages.
The centuries-old languages and cultures of actual Jewish ethnicities throughout Europe were treated as shameful relics of the past, to be submerged and amalgamated into a new artificially constructed Jewish identity centered on the Hebrew language.Â
Yiddish, the language spoken by the Ashkenazi Jews of Europe â derived from an archaic German dialect and written in the Hebrew alphabet â was stigmatized by Zionist leaders in Palestine and by the early Israeli government. According to Max Weinreichâs History of the Yiddish Language, the âvery making of Hebrew into a spoken language derives from the will to separate from the Diaspora.â Diasporic Jewish identities, as viewed by Zionist settlers, were âa cultural morass to be purged.â The âNew Jewâ was an idealized superhuman construct, almost completely divorced from centuries worth of culture and traditions of actual Jews: âYiddish began to represent diaspora and feebleness, said linguist Ghilâad Zuckermann. âAnd Zionists wanted to be Dionysian: wild, strong, muscular and independent.ââÂ
This âcontempt for the Diasporaâ was âmanifested . . . in the fierce campaign against Yiddish in Palestine, which led not only to the banning of Yiddish newspapers and theaters but even to physical attacks against Yiddish speakers.â From the 1920s on, anyone in Palestine with the temerity to publish in Yiddish risked having their printing press destroyed by organizations with names like the âBattalion of the Defenders of the Hebrew Language,â âOrganization for the Enforcement of Hebrew,â and âCentral Council for the Enforcement of Hebrew.â The showing of the Yiddish-language film Mayn Yidishe Mame (âMy Yiddish Mamaâ), in Tel Aviv in 1930, provoked a riot led by the above-mentioned Battalion. After the foundation of Israel, âevery immigrant was required to study Hebrew and often to adopt a Hebrew surname.â In its early days Israel legally prohibited plays and periodicals in the Yiddish language. A recent defender of the early suppression of Yiddish, in the Jerusalem Post, argued that Diasporic languages threatened to âundermine the Zionist projectâ; in other words, an admission that actually existing ethnic identities threatened an identity manufactured by a nationalist ideology.
If this is true of Yiddish â the native language of the Ashkenazi Jews who dominated the Zionist settlement of Palestine â itâs even more so of the suppression of Jewish ethnic identities outside the dominant Sephardic minority. Golda Meir once dismissed Jews of non-Ashkenazi or non-Yiddish descent as ânot Jews.âÂ
Consider the roughly half of the Israeli population comprised of Mizrahi Jews from Middle Eastern communities (including those living in Palestine itself before European settlement). Although the Mizrahim are trotted out as worthy victims when they are convenient for purposes of Israeli propaganda â the majority of them were expelled from Arab countries like Iraq after 1948, in what was an undeniable atrocity â they are treated the rest of the time as an embarrassment or a joke, and have been heavily discriminated against, by the descendants of Ashkenazi settlers. For example former Prime Minister David Ben Gurion described MizrahimÂ
as lacking even âthe most elementary knowledgeâ and âwithout a trace of Jewish or human education.â Ben Gurion repeatedly expressed contempt for the culture of the Oriental Jews: âWe do not want Israelis to become Arabs. We are in duty bound to fight against the spirit of the Levant, which corrupts individuals and societies, and preserve the authentic Jewish values as they crystallized in the Diaspora.â
Current Prime Minister Netanyahu once joked about a âMizrahi geneâ as his excuse for tardiness. And an Israeli realtor ran a commercial appealing to âthere goes the neighborhoodâ sentiments by depicting a light-skinned family having their Passover celebration disrupted by uncouth Mizrahi neighbors.
Nationalism and the nation-state are the enemies of true ethnicity and culture, and built on their graves. Thereâs no better illustration of this principle than the Zionist project itself."
-Kevin Carson, "Zionism and the Nation-State: Palestinians Are Not the Only Victims"
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A Man Among Ruins
So do any of you guys remember this one post HERE where someone told me about phantom of the opera!König? Well it's stuck in my head now. I'm gonna be reading the books, but before I did I wanted to start out with this little drabble here to set the stage.
TW: references to König being a nazi colonel (he left the army because he was disgusted by the nazis)
Wordcount: 1.5k
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Story below the cut
A Man Among Ruins
In 1861, construction of an opera house began in Vienna. Over the course of many years, an elaborate building of columns, gold and marble was constructed. Stone was shipped from across the land to build up into the towering building, carved to perfection by the finest sculptors Austria could find. It took decades of work, but the Vienna State Opera opened its doors to the public.
Music echoed from the great belly of the beast across the land. Many came to take in the great and elaborate shrine of the arts, a beautiful and majestic plinth upon which life, death, romance and tragedy was acted out upon, dazzling spectators for generations to come.
Glorious, beautiful, and tragic.
During the world wars, the building was bombed by Allies, reduced to naught but rubble. There were no sculptors who came from generations of artisans, most had died in the war. There were less painters of great standing, for they had died in the war as well. All the greats of the time were lost, and the people were left to weep over what once had been.
However, in this tragedy, there came a small miracle.
A man, tarnished by war and now an outcast among his cohorts, found refuge in the basements beneath the building. Nobody saw the man slip in, nobody cared when he disappeared amongst the halls and stages of the rubble. Who could care? And why? He was a homeless man who could matter less, so why bother him when he slept among rubble and bones?
Maybe, thatâs where he belonged. It certainly seemed that way, at least.
He was left to his meager kingdom, and so he relished in it. He took from the scraps left behind, fashioning himself a gentleman in costume garb. He found a great cloak, one big enough to hide even his grand size, and he managed to fashion himself a pretty mask from some remains. He then hid himself in the darkness fro years to come, only leaving at night to feast from rubbish bins and off local scraps. Occasionally, someone would find him and give him offerings, taking sympathy on his sorry state. Heâd thank them in broken words, and retreat back into the darkness where no being could ever have the misfortune of laying eyes on him.
But the Vienna State Opera lived on as more than a memory. This man, no longer able to remember his name of who he was, was awoken by the sound of machines and menâs voices. He ventured forth from his lair, hiding among the ruined gardens to dare see who would trespass on his lands.
To his surprise, they were architects. They were overviewing the building, debating its demolition or its salvation. The man suspected they would disappear, but they came back. He feared theyâd destroy his home, but they did nothing of the sort.
In fact, they built around him.
These practical people were stable and pragmatic, undeterred by whispered stories of giant men who lived among the ruins. Instead, they took to teasing each other as they cleared out what was lost, and rebuilt what they could.Â
The man watched as his palace was built around him. Great stone columns stood tall and proud in the yard. Cherubs fluttered in pairs above doorways. The man watched the building rise around him, and though once he was afraid, now he saw himself as a king of a new land, and so he called himself as such.
He would watch from below as painters lay on their backs as they brushed billowing clouds and lush forests onto the ceilings. He saw designers bicker and argue over which curtains to hang on the main stage, hidden just out of view in the newly built seating area. He would crawl through the catwalks to follow set designers shaping the stage to their views.Â
And he was proud.
He had been a soldier, a good soldier at that. Heâd risen up the ranks, but when he learned of the war he was fighting, he fled. All the titles heâd earned, once glorious and beautiful, now were blemishes to his name. He would tell you he fled the world because of the blemishes that consumed his face, but this was not so. Rather, he could not live to be a part of such an evil on earth.
So, shame followed him wherever he went, a shadow of a deserter cast onto the walls behind him.
Now, he was different.
It started one day when a young actor caught sight of him on the catwalks.
He only knew she saw him because she raised her finger at him, and called out a word heâd never heard used against him before.
âA ghost!â
A ghost? Was that what he was?
He didnât stay long enough to figure it out. Instead, he swung out of sight and back into the darkness. He worried someone might shoo him from his home like a common gutter rat, but instead, he was more welcomed than before.
âItâs a ghost,â he heard someone whisper when he crawled through the backways of the building, now perching to peer down at the backstage where the actors had huddled.
âIt must be a man who was here during the bombing,â said a big, burly man with a resonating voice.
âDo you think itâs possible?â a strawberry blonde waif of a woman perched on a velvet stool before her vanity.
âI saw him with my own eyes!â the blond woman from before declared, âitâs not just possible, itâs real!â
âDo you think he means any harm?â the woman on the stool finally turned to her coworkers.
The blonde woman thought for a moment. She pressed a finger to her chin in deliberation, then said, âI think he was more afraid of me than I was of him.â
âWell, if he was afraid of you, whatâs the likelihood he could do any harm?â the big manâs laughter rolled like thunder.
The man smugly thought that he could kill them all within a minute of descending down on them, but was quite content to keep such things to himself. Heâd come to like these patrons of his home, considered them a sort of family by now. He was more than happy to let them stay, as long as they didnât try to drive him out.
And they didnât. Instead, they welcomed him in with new rumors, and to his delight, gifts. They said that if the phantom accepted your offerings, your performance would go smoothly. The man was more than glad to ensure all their performances were exemplary, so long as his stomach was full.
He didnât take too kindly to one woman begrudgingly complaining that âthe phantomâs going to get too heavy to sneak so silently if this keeps upâ, but he still ate her offered truffles happily, and when a stagelight looked as though it might fall, he held it in place the entire evening. Only when the last guest left did he let go, where it tumbled down into a cacophonous mess. She notably left out two boxes of truffles the next time she was set to go on stage.
The man relished in his palace. He was a beloved being, a mascot for the theater. They adored him and showered him with gifts, and he took them in kind.
Of course, looking from the balconies could be lonely. He watched them perform, acting out beautiful stories of love and joy below him, and he would imagine himself as the great hero below. He envied the men, sometimes. However, he still took their gifts and watched over them. They were all part of his watch, and heâd treat each of them in kind.
When the stage was empty and nobody was around, the man would go down and onto the stage. There, he would sing to the empty chairs. His voice would project, following all the tips those singers gave each other, and he would fill the entire building with his beautiful, sonorous voice.
So there he stood on his stage, singing The Marriage of Figaroâs âSe voul ballareâ so brightly to an empty stadium, accompanied by a silent orchestra. He sang with all his heart, his voice carrying across the entire hall and resonating back at him. Beautiful, glorious and true. He was glad, and you could only imagine his surprise when he heard a small set of hands clapping.
His eyes snapped over to the source of the sound, and there he laid eyes upon the most beautiful woman heâd ever seen in his life. And just as soon as he was spotted, he dashed to a stage ladder, scrambled up to a series of props, and ducked behind them out of sight.
As he raced back to the basement, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He could hardly believe heâd let himself be seen. And for how long? Heâd finished the song by the time they made their presence known. A part of him wondered what they thought of his singing. Did they like his voice? Heâd trained for so long, but heâd never expected an audience. He was never quite good enough for that.
But they had clapped for him.
Warmth bloomed in his chest.
Yes, they had clapped for him, and they had done so happily.
He would need to keep watch over this new little songbird.
Konig Dump
Konig AU stories
#konig#cod konig#konig cod#konig call of duty#konig mw2#konig x reader#konig x you#konig fluff#konig fanart#fan art#digital art#cod mw2#cod#cod mwii#cod x reader#call of duty#modern warfare#konig fanfiction#konig headcanons#cod headcanons#konig hcs#konig fanfic#phantom of the opera#poto#phantom of the opera!cod#phantom of the opera!konig#poto!cod#poto!konig#phantom!konig#christinee!reader
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A fun thing about Warfarin x Poncirus is that their relationship is long-distance most of the time:
I like to think, that when she's visiting Rhodes for a checkup, she'll let Warfy do whatever experiments on her, feed any mysterious new pillls & cemicals she's come up with, take sips out of her etc, but when her leave ends it Ends, and she simply walks out the door & goes back to her regular dayjob at construction & demolition in Siesta
#arknights#i also like to think they send each other letters when shes away about potential new poncirus studies warfarin could do when they next meet#or something#part time labrat part time long-distance discord kitten#thinking abt them is so fun#funny green oranges bird & the vampire who wants to study her in a lab#enrishment aimed at me specifically
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Sun in Scorpio
The Lesson of the Sun in Scorpio
Scorpio, the eighth sign of the zodiac, starts around 23 October and brings about a state of constant transformation and renewal. These two facts, however, are frequently invisible.
Scorpio has no attachment to routine or appearance. Far from it. Its general pattern of vibration includes a profound intimacy with the process of sudden change.
The influences of this sign are difficult to predict or classify. Scorpio stimulates life or death. It spreads decay or regeneration and provokes various kinds of transmutation according to the Karmic possibilities of circumstances.
This is one of the signs under which a true warrior can be born. Yet a wise warrior must fight for a noble cause. His only enemy is ignorance, mainly his own lack of wisdom, and secondarily the naiveté belonging to others.
As one deals with the energy of Scorpio, it is wise to choose brightness rather than its opposite, and to work for the creative renewal of life-structures, not for their demolition. Spiritual law invites Scorpio to prefer sowing rather than reaping, and to promote an intelligent construction of life, instead of the easy yet unfortunate temptation to merely destroy.
Belonging to the Water element, Scorpio has Pluto as its main ruler. Mars, the co-ruler, was the only patron of Scorpio until the small planet Pluto was discovered in 1930.
In Scorpio, autumn unfolds in the Northern Hemisphere, and spring gains momentum in the Southern half of the planet. Life has now less physical light, or more light â depending on where you live. But Light governs Life across the twelve months of the year. If you see the world from a deep and accurate point of view, you know that it is enlightened all the time.
The light of the Sun is present in every atom. The Law forces Scorpio to transcend outward forms. Sooner or later â in this lifetime or in a future one â the spiritual soul learns to become an agent of healthy changes in life. It does so by working with that inner and spiritual light that never fades. This is one of the secret aspects of the lesson of the Sun in Scorpio.
Ultimately, every spiritual soul belongs to the transcendent realm of universal harmony.
In the territory of Scorpio, the individual seeks for an experience of total unity with other beings and with the totality of life. But the evolutionary journey will not end here. Several lessons remain unlearned: it takes time to get to the final stage symbolized by Pisces. Imperfect levels of Scorpio are clumsy or careless at times, and prefer sudden explosions to intelligent action. Scorpio is powerfully impulsive as long as it does not have a stable understanding of the universe. Part of its intention in the objective world is invisible. To immature souls, disloyalty is sometimes a temptation.
Anna Maria Costa Ribeiro sees three kinds of Scorpio individuals, or three levels of consciousness, one of which must be more powerful and predominate in each situation or lifetime. This will depend on the knowledge possessed by the soul:
* The lower animal Scorpio is marked with vice, cruelty, the habit of manipulation and mediocrity. His poison is always ready to be used any time, everywhere.
* The eagle Scorpio is interested in the celestial mysteries. He is aware of his own strength. Nothing defeats him, for he flies above terrestrial problems.
* The dove or phoenix Scorpio corresponds to the pure Spirit. He has transcended the world of desire. He is the true mystic, the healer of souls. He was reborn on another level of life. With an iron determination, he burns his impurities in the regenerating fire of truth eternal.
Scorpio is the sign of death, of resurrection and rebirth. Hence creativity, struggle, and the occult world have a special, direct relation to it. The sign intensely stimulates the search for truth as it helps the soul prepare itself for the great battle ahead â the life-and-death struggle of winter in the northern hemisphere.
The great secret of the future battle is the rebirth of the Sun, the Initiate, or Jesus in the Christian tradition.
Winter itself does not appear in Scorpio. It will be received by a more confident and stable sign, Sagittarius, as the optimist and fiery centaur sign gets ready to transmit the torch of time to Capricorn, in the second half of December.
The mission of Scorpio is to harbor life during the first preparatory phase of difficulties in the transition to winter. Facing the obstacles of autumn is like making military exercises before a fierce battle. When things get tougher, Scorpio passes the torch to Sagittarius. Acting under the guidance of Jupiter â the master of Optimism and Compassion â Sagittarius has an absolute confidence in the bright future that is right now waiting for Life. The centaur archer goes firmly ahead and pays scarce attention to obstacles.
The highest point of the yearly battle for life is ruled by the old wisdom and stable patience of one of the most careful signs: Capricorn.
The days of Capricorn will open the door to the New Year in Christian time. This part of the Zodiac is guided by Saturn, the judge of actions and the master of Time and Karma. Seen from the Earth, the collective spirit of Saturn is the Lord of the Rings, the most Ancient One, the Initiator, the guardian of the inner limits of our solar system.
The Key of Firmness
Stephen Arroyo highlights the fact that like Pisces and Cancer â the other Water signs -, Scorpio can use the practice of firmness as a tool to overcome its own limitations.
âWatery people need to be firm with themselvesâ, says Arroyo, and he adds that firmness is also the best way for other people to deal with persons of the Water element.
The Yoga of Patanjali says in Book II, aphorisms 33-34 that wrong ideas must be replaced by its correct opposites.
In Astrology, opposite signs are teachers of one another. The sign opposite to Scorpio is Taurus, which happens to be precisely one of the firmest and most stable of the Zodiac.
The inner dialogue of Taurus and Scorpio establishes a fine symmetrical balance whose results are peace and strength; wisdom and stability; free transcendence and a practical view of life, calmly built on solid ground.
Image: Astronomicum cĂŠsareum, 1540
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The situation we find ourselves in is on account of 2 things! Democrats kind hearted, trusting nature, and Republicans lust for relevancy, power and their spinelessness.
Trump should be either, in prison/Guantanamo bay, or on trial heading towards one of those locations.
The corruption is infuriating! Iâm no law scholar or a constitutional lawyer, just some dumb plumber, but the fourteenth amendment section 3 CLEARLY states:
No person shall be a Senator or Representative in Congress, or elector of President or Vice President, or hold any office, civil or military under the United States or under any State, who having previously taken an oath, as a member of Congress, or as an officer of the United States, or as a member of any State legislature,or as an executive or judicial officer of any State, to support the Constitution of the United States, shall have engaged in insurrection or rebellion against the same, or given aid or comfort to the enemy thereof.
Itâs not hard to comprehend what they were articulating. Itâs not hard to understand their meaning in some textualism nonsense! Simple! If you, as an American holding federal office, rebelled against or staged a coup, albeit failed or otherwise, violated the oath you took, to protect and defend, the Constitution of the United States, you are disqualified from holding any federal position again! Simple!
To say this Supreme Court isnât partisan. To say they arenât corrupt, can only be attested to being deaf blind and dumb, or pure partisan hackery! Shame on them! Shame on Mitch McConnell, and frankly shame on garbage MAGA! It is clear the simple minded loyalty far outweighs the Constitution to them. It is easy to see the sycophancy holds more reverence to them than their nation. The lack of foresightedness to the consequences of their allegiance to one man, one party, one view of the United States has potential to result in its downfall. For when the structures of government are burdened to the ground, in their ashes lie the remnants of democracy, with our republic wafting away like smoke from the rubble.
What will be built upon the heap of a once free and prosperous nation, will be the unqualified craftsmanship of the terrorist responsible for its demise. Raised on the flimsy ground of oligarchs and plutocrats, a foundation reinforce with the same seditionists who oversaw the demolition. With its structure made, not for the people, but for those who seek its exploitation. A decor of fascism and oppression hanging on the walls of tyranny, portraits resembling an illusion of what once was. Above head the autocratic shingles drip the rewards to its inhabitants poured down from the servitude of the constituency. This flimsy construct of a building erected for the benefit of the few, by the many, will find its supports fail time and time again, only worsening the conditions upon those whose labor constructed it.
The whole purpose of the tripartite system, the whole reasoning behind checks and balances, the entire point of the three branches of government was to prevent consolidation of power, not to enhance it! With a minority rule this has been achieved.
In their gullibility Democrats, liberals stood by assuming the structures of our Constitution would hold. Actively watching this demolition take place. Hardly putting forth a struggle against it. Their morality prohibiting the defense of democracy in some self righteous weakness against tactics of corruption not on the same grounds of that in which this code of conduct would give good grace. When one comes to dismantle the very structure of your republic you do not stand as a nail but as an iron beam. Not all can be trusted, not all have a standard of ethical conduct upon which they stand. You cannot win a boxing match when your opponent shows up with a machete.
It is the trust from the left that allowed these attacks on our Constitution to occur as much as it was demonsterous betrayal of it from the right.
#scotus#democracy#trump is a threat to democracy#the constitution#womenâs rights#election 2024#traitor trump#vote blue#kamala harris#the left#donald trump#politics#news#republicans#gop#free press#free speech#freedom#liberty#american people#vote kamala#trump vance 2024#vote vote vote#women voters#we the people#hope#congress#bill of rights#fascisim#harris walz 2024
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Ulrich MĂŒther (1934-2007), structural engineer and entrepreneur, created some of the former GDRâs most striking buildings, immediately recognizable due to their characteristic hyperbolic paraboloid roof construction. But despite MĂŒtherâs significance many of his buildings have been demolished or fallen into neglect. A turning point in this development was the demolition of the restaurant âAhornblattâ in Berlinâs Mitte district in 2000: ignoring the heritage status of the building this significant MĂŒther structure was demolished by ruthless developers. This incident led to ample criticism and authorities subsequently were better aware of the historic meaning of MĂŒther buildings. Tanja Seeböckâs monograph âSchwĂŒnge in Beton - Die Schalenbauten von Ulrich MĂŒtherâ, published in 2016 by Thomas Helms Verlag, is the first in-depth scientific monograph on MĂŒther and offers an all-encompassing account of the engineerâs life and work. After an introduction to the principles of shell constructions Seeböck examines the particularities and principles of MĂŒther as well as the somewhat difficult relation between architect and engineer in the former GDR. But it is two chapters of the book that stand out as especially important: the extensive reception history of the engineerâs constructions and the detailed work catalogue (the first of its kind) in the back of the book. These two parts are of particular importance for the future protection of MĂŒther buildings because they demonstrate the importance of his designs within the built heritage of the former GDR and at the same time remind us of the significant number of buildings already gone. Above all it should also be noted that the monograph is extensively illustrated, very well-written and therefore far from being a dry scientific publication. Chapeau!
#ulrich mĂŒther#monograph#architecture#gdr#germany#nachkriegsmoderne#nachkriegsarchitektur#architecture book#architectural history#ddr
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