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gutsby · 12 days ago

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Wants and Needs

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Joel x Reader

Summary: Bills are high; your dad’s boss wants to help. How you pay him stays between you and him—for now.

Warnings: 18+. Protected piv. Explicit power imbalance in an exchange of sex for money, so dubcon, technically. Soft dom!Joel. Sex toys. Squirting. Oral (f!receiving). Overstimulation. Daddy kink. Age gap. Praise kink.

Note: Bohanan’s is a steakhouse in San Antonio, TX.

Word count: 8.4k

You wanted a car. Joel needed to cum.

It wasn’t the arrangement a girl your age should’ve made, but what could you do? Your dad drank half of your college funds away, and your mom was long gone.

The next best thing was Mr. Miller, your father’s boss. He’d understood better than anyone what money could buy. What it might do. For him, it was pleasure. For you, it was a future—or what little remained after bills and loans and exorbitantly-priced car repairs bled you dry.

You took the job at the firm on a whim. You didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore, though your dad and Joel were. You didn’t want to be done with law school, though 3L had already long since ended, and that dreaded so-called ‘minimum competency’ test was drawing close on the horizon. In short, you couldn’t afford to pay for bar prep.

With Joel, you could.

It was true that tax law paid pretty well, but a part-time job would never really be enough when your family was treading water at all times. Your dad liked to gamble and drink, and your brothers got all of their brains from him.

You got the short end of the stick, plus the receiving end of another. Lucky for you, Joel’s felt pretty good going in.

Today you were somewhere south of Austin. Your truck wouldn’t start last week, so you’d agreed to come along on this business trip knowing full well what you planned on asking your boss as soon as you had a moment alone.

“CDP hearing at…9:45.” You checked the itinerary twice.

“Alright.” Joel nodded.

“Lunch with Javier, Ezra, and Dave at twelve.”

“Mhmm.”

“Phone call with Revenue Officer Acacius at 3:30.”

“For the…?”

“Martells.”

“Okay.”

“I finished Lucien Flores’ Form 433-F for your review and left notes—” You stopped to tap your finger on a short white pile of papers between you and Joel on the desk, “—in the margins. Still need bank statements from him.”

“Lovely.”

Joel eyed the stack at first, but his gaze strayed a little.

“You should probably plan to talk strategy with my dad before Mayor Garcia’s audit tomorrow, too. Looks like a couple non-cash contributions are being disputed now.”

For a second, your eyes flitted up to him, too. It was brief.

“Sure. When’s your daddy free?” he said.

You blinked, then scanned the schedule.

“Looks like five…or six, maybe. He’s got a consult with—”

“I wasn’t talking about your father.”

You looked back up. Joel was smirking, of course. His hand had drifted a comfortable, innocent distance past the papers and across the table, to you. The pair of you happened to be in one of the glass-paneled conference rooms nearest the hotel lobby, so he had to be discreet.

He never let his fingers stray too long on yours in public. Presently, his thumb grazed your knuckles extra slow.

Posing a question, maybe.

You didn’t have the time to be tactful now, unfortunately.

“I need $2,700.”

Joel, your boss, your daddy, whatever, had to pause at that. He didn’t move his hand immediately, but he did stare harder. Longer. He searched your face for the joke.

“$2,700?” he repeated.

“Yes sir,” you answered out of habit, wincing only a little, “My truck stopped running last week, and it’s just…a lot.”

The cost. For Joel, it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket, but in your world, it was a make-or-break, fuck-your-whole-budget-for-the-next-six-months kind of bad. Suddenly, your cheeks felt warmer than they did before, and you forced yourself to look away. Peering out across the wide and gently rolling terrain of San Antonio and trying to pretend there was something thrilling to see. You’d almost forgotten how much you hated asking this.

“I can make the deposit tonight—” Joel started.

“No,” you interrupted. You wanted to turn but couldn’t. You just shook your head and kept staring out there, “Not now, I mean…I need to earn it over time, I just…”

You stumbled over the words. It was like your lips, your tongue, and your teeth were all suffering from the same sort of embarrassment pervading the brain, and you couldn’t bring your mouth to form the sentences right.

I’m not asking for a handout. I need to earn the money.

However ‘earning’ may have been grossly misconstrued in the context, it was a labor all the same. You didn’t love it, but you didn’t hate him, either. Joel was nice, albeit old enough to be your father, and it didn’t seem that he was nearly as predatory or perverse as he could’ve been. You’d been working for him for two months now, and the idea had been your own when the cash had gotten tight.

Back in April, you’d explained to him, calmly, that you couldn’t take the bar exam unless you got some extra money quick. That you wouldn’t accept his charity, but you’d pay him back in other ways. Joel had been against it at first—you were the daughter of his best friend, after all—but eventually, his carnal needs won out over his sense, as every other man would’ve done, you guessed.

At first, you’d started slow, but that hadn’t lasted very long. You fucked him regularly now, though never had you asked for an amount of cash this big out of nowhere.

Joel blinked and put a hand on his hip, like he always did when he wasn’t sure what to say. The silver in his soft, dark locks shone more in this light. He’d lost the smirk.

“You’ve done…plenty.” Now sounding sheepish.

You tried to protest again; Joel stopped you.

“I mean it. Hey, look at me,” he said next.

You did, hesitatingly. You turned from the window, and out of instinct, folded your arms over your chest. Joel paced closer to you and then he was watching. Pausing.

Brushing your arm with his and glancing once over your shoulder to make sure no one else was around to see.

He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

When he pulled away, your skin was practically ablaze.

“Mr. Miller—”

“Joel,” he corrected, quiet, “And you’ve done enough. Let me cover the car just this once, okay? Sweetheart?”

You didn’t realize you were pivoting again. That your gut was doing somersaults and your heart was ready to climb up and out of your throat. Your neck was burning.

It wasn’t even anger you sensed was simmering under the skin until you turned back to him, and your eyes flashed with ire before the words were even spoken.

“I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller. I said I want to pay.”

“It’s Joel. And I said you’ve done enough, so—”

Ire morphed to something more in a blink.

You didn’t mean to say it, but you did.

“Fine,” you huffed, suddenly exasperated, “If you’re so fucking opposed to me paying my way for this one simple thing, I’ll get another guy. Forget I asked.”

It was a low blow, for sure. Joel knew how badly you’d wanted this to stay between just you and him—and he would never dream of seeing you ‘earning your keep’ with anyone else. His expression said as much as soon as he’d heard your words; his whole face hardened at once.

But then you’d turned to leave. You didn’t care what he wanted to tell you, and if you did, you certainly weren’t brave enough to stick around to hear Joel say it then.

So you left. He had a full, busy day ahead of him anyway.

You woke up wet.

In an effort to avoid your boss, you’d run errands all day. Buried your nose in a sea of Civil Procedure notes as soon as you got a second alone, almost vomited seeing the Erie Doctrine, and went back to your hotel room to try and study there. Once you had, you napped instead.

Now your clothes stuck to your skin; the sheets around you were soaked. You peered over the big white duvet holding your body interred and saw smoke overhead.

Or steam.

Yes, definitely steam. It was drifting from the bathroom, where the door was thrown open. You shifted up to sit.

“Tess!” you yelled, “Shut the goddamn door, I’m boiling.”

As a law clerk, you weren’t afforded the luxury of a suite to yourself, so you shared it with the other new grads on work trips like these. Tess Servopoulos loved long, hot showers and never closed the fucking door. You groaned.

And, feeling depleted of all energy from your studies and the stress and the steam searing every inch of your skin, you flopped back in the bed. You kicked the covers off your legs. You’d just lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from your forehead, when an awful, fresh realization dawned.

You glanced at the clock—3:37.

“Fucking hell,” you hissed.

You were supposed to meet your dad at two to get some paperwork signed. You needed to have that filed with the court by four. He was probably engaged somewhere else by now, whether it be a client, a conference, or a couple white lines in the bathroom of a partners-only club downtown, and you wouldn’t have a hope of reaching him here. You rubbed your face and groaned again.

You’d set an alarm for 1:30—you knew you had.

Where the hell was your phone? Why was it so warm? What if he’d called? Aw fuck, he’s probably blown that thing up to hell and back by now. Maybe he was drunk. He had to be. Where was Tess? Where were your pants?

You’d made it up to your feet, clumsily, and faced a full-length mirror. Your bottoms were gone. You closed your eyes and screamed inside, remembering why they were.

“Glad you’re getting some use out of this.”

The second you heard it, your lids flew open. You turned.

And, standing in the warm yellow glow of the bathroom light—holding the culprit, your vibrator, like a prize—was Joel. Naked as the day he was born, save for one thin towel around his hips, and grinning. Moisture glistened on his chest and pooled about his feet, and his hair was smooth, tamed, and combed back neatly from his face.

He waved your silicone toy in the air, and immediately, you regretted giving him your room key the other day.

“I thought we agreed you’d wait for me—”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Your voice was thick with sleep. Joel’s own was slow, dulcet, and kind as it always was, even when teasing. When you grit your teeth, he just set the toy aside.

“I’m sorry. Bad timing. I saw your—”

“No.” You threw up both hands at once, suddenly out of breath and fucks to give, “You know what? I don’t care. You need to go. I have to be down at the courthouse—”

In twenty minutes. You cut yourself short and hurried off to find shoes. You could wear other pants. Ask another attorney to sign the forms if you couldn’t reach your dad. Forget that his boss and yours had just caught you with the vibrator he’d bought you last month and try not to feel too humiliated knowing he knew what you’d been doing. It didn’t matter—Joel didn’t matter. You slid on a mismatched pair of slacks and set off toward the door.

Then you had to stop. Joel beat you there, quick as ever.

“Listen. Hey.”

“Will you stop?!”

You pushed at his big and wet, stupidly broad chest. You felt the small grey hairs on his pecs tickle your palms, and for a second, you thought you heard a chuckle.

“You’re gonna make me late—”

“Hey, hey,” Joel said again. Of course it sounded fatherly, “I already signed the POA for Morales, hon, you’re good.”

You’re good.

“You what?” You stared at him in disbelief. How did he even know you needed Frankie’s power of attorney signed in the first place? You figured your dad would’ve mentioned it, but still, it wasn’t really Joel’s form to sign.

“The case is mine now,” he clarified, reading that look, “Wasn’t my first pick, but it is what it is. And your dad—”

Your dad was probably lagging wildly behind on his own caseload, so he’d pushed one off on his friend. Again.

“You can’t keep picking up his slack,” you gritted out, “One of these days it’s gonna bite you both in the ass. You know he shouldn’t be forcing these jobs on you.”

“I offered.”

“You caved.”

“He’s my best friend, what do you expect me to do?”

“Not let him use you! He’s making you feel bad for him.”

“And what if I did? What if I did pity the bastard?”

You scoffed. Then winced, inwardly.

I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller.

From the look on Joel’s face, he seemed to be remembering the same. He shook his head.

“That’s not…” he trailed off. He rubbed his jaw with his hand and started to move from the door, deflating some.

His other arm extended to you, wordlessly, and already anticipated what was sure to follow. You swatted him off, then walked to the bed. You considered sitting but didn’t. Instead, you crossed your arms like you always did and turned away, facing the window with a cool, flat affect.

By now, Joel knew better than to take that for what it seemed. He crossed the room to you, treading softly.

His voice turned gentle again, like an apology: “Honey…”

But your gaze was already fixed outside. You frowned.

“Darlin’,” Joel continued, undeterred, “Come on.”

And you didn’t need to see his face to hear the rest: ‘Look at me, please,’ with eyes all comfort and warmth.

“Don’t you have a phone call with an R.O. or something?” Briefly, you recalled Acacius and a stream of other items from the checklist you’d covered that morning, and you had to stop yourself then from straying too far. You blinked once, just as Joel was approaching from behind.

“I cancelled,” he said.

You sighed, “Mr. Miller…”

You knew he hated doing that.

“Joel,” he pressed. Adding, “Something came up.”

You wouldn’t even ask. You shouldn’t care. You felt him standing there, fanning hot breaths across the nape of your neck, and you really couldn’t have taken that worse. You visibly tensed, hands balling into fists at your sides, and—hell, he wouldn’t quit moving now, would he?—Joel bent down. He hesitated, as if gauging your reaction in time, then descended further. He kissed your shoulder.

You cracked; it never took much from him.

For all your inane, ancillary plays at feigning indifference, one movement of Joel’s mouth and your resolve was lost. You clung to words, weakly, but all the rest fell away.

“We don’t…want your charity. Me or my dad. Alright?”

“I know.”

Joel kissed your skin again, then pulled at the strap of your blouse. It fell limply away, and his lips reattached.

Exactly when he’d walked you back to the bed, you couldn’t be sure. By the third or fourth kiss, your stomach was tight, knees weak, and your eyes drawing closed; it didn’t matter to you or to him what had passed before. Your bodies found the bed and blended together.

Tangling, in a way. Tearing blindly at clothes and not saying too much apart from Joel’s soft, sweet words:

“That’s it.”

“I know.”

“Good girl.”

Good girl when he kissed you. Good girl when he stripped you bare. Good girl when his hands roamed the broad, naked expanse of your body and let your own do the same to him. Good girl when your fingers hooked the outline of the towel and tugged it away, your vision filled with a sight you’d come to like more and more each day.

“That’s my girl,” Joel murmured. He cradled your head while you gripped his base, “‘S’yours, baby. All yours.”

Yours. Mine. You weren’t sure you had the sense or self-possession to even know what that meant, especially here. Joel wasn’t a boyfriend. He wasn’t a lover, at least not in the traditional sense. He wore dark wool suits like your father and worked from dawn until dusk every day, practicing law for longer than you’d been alive. Still, the smile above you was sweet. It coaxed you gently as you slid your hand up and down his length, like he sensed this was more like a lesson for you. Learning experience.

“Remember, spit a little first,” he instructed. Then, to demonstrate this point, he brought his fingers to his mouth and wet them quickly. He slipped his touch down to yours and met your gaze while he joined you there.

He rubbed and slicked himself up and he did it with ease. You followed his lead and watched his face contort—crow’s feet pinching even tighter at the sides of his eyes as pleasure began to pool in his gut. He looked pretty. You’d never thought to tell him this, but Joel really had an unparalleled face. It was an old and beautiful thing. For this reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away, maybe to wet your own fingers. Instead, you slipped your hand between your legs, where his hips had come to rest. You worked a slow, light touch against your folds; you were drenched, and it didn’t take long for your fingers to be, too. You moved them back to Joel’s cock.

“Like this?” you ventured.

The man answered with a grunt, at first. Then a grin.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Joel nodded, quiet but emphatic. Trying not to smile too big as he let your touch take over for his, “Just like that, sweet pea. Get it nice an’ wet for daddy.”

You wanted to whimper at that. Something must’ve flashed in your eyes at the intonation of the last word, and the look must’ve suffused your whole expression, because the next thing you knew, Joel was lowering his body to yours. Petting your hair, letting you rub on his shaft as fast as your soft, lithe hands could manage.

“Feel that, baby? Feel how much daddy missed you?”

You did.

Your brow pinched, and you wanted more of that. More from him: those tender, edifying words of praise being mumbled your way while your touch worked him over. Maybe you could’ve helped it, but then again, in this state, maybe you couldn’t—you whimpered for him.

Wriggling your hips against the bed to get your warmth pressed flush with his own, and squeezing him tighter:

“In me, daddy. Please.”

You angled his cock in your trembling grip to plead as much. You knew he liked being the one to push in the first time, so you didn’t move too far with that push, but you begged him with your gaze. You felt him tense a bit.

And just when you sensed he might let you have your way, he moved off. Down. Sliding his torso away from your own, to go lower on the bed, and smirking again.

“I think she needs my tongue first, doesn’t she?”

You wanted to nod. Instead, you flinched. You crawled away from his hold before it could secure itself firmly on either one of your legs, and you had to snag your bottom lip between your teeth to contain that blossoming need. It almost spilled from your mouth in a moan before Joel’s could reach your lower half. Then you scrambled to sit up

“No,” you choked out.

This wasn’t new. While you shook your head, Joel lifted a brow and stood from the bed. He reached behind him.

The night stand.

You closed your eyes.

“This isn’t…supposed to be for me.” you sighed.

In a second, Joel was back where he started, and you didn’t have to steal a glance through your lids to know what he was holding. Slotting himself gently into place.

“Don’t,” he started, sharp, “—say that. I mean it.”

You knew he meant it, but you also knew better than to accept at face value what he said, moving down on you.

This wasn’t part of the deal. Joel’s money was meant to serve his pleasure, not yours. Letting him take you any other way seemed to blur the lines between transaction and affection, and though you’d done this before, it still didn’t feel right. You couldn’t bear having his focus here.

Evidently, though, he could. He’d snatched your vibrator from the night table and lowered his torso to your legs, lips twitching the tiniest bit. ‘Open up. Let me see her.’

Joel was on his stomach, eyes glowing with intrigue.

“Let me see how much she’s missed me, baby.”

The grey matter in your brain might’ve trickled through your ears—the whole thing went to mush at his words. You pushed at his hands, then the top of his head, but clearly, your will was weak. You wanted this. Needed it.

“That’s a good girl. Let daddy have it,” Joel drawled.

You wanted to cry. Or maybe hide. His index and middle fingers prodded at your folds, pulling them apart, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you’d stopped breathing. Joel kissed the slope of your mound with a quiet kind of reverence. The salt-and-pepper stubble on his chin brushed your clit, and your back arched reflexively. Then, remembering why you’d come to this arrangement in the first place, you felt a wave of guilt supplant that pleasure.

You clawed at his head and shook your own, weakly.

“No. W-wanna make you feel good,” you choked out.

Not me.

Not here.

Just let it—

“Fuck,” you keened through your teeth. Joel’s lips made contact with your slick, drooling cunt and, in a second, sucked your nub in between them. He flicked his tongue.

Joel groaned, then pulled away to meet your gaze.

“Feels plenty good f’me,” he assured you in a murmur. Eyes glossy, “She’s so fuckin’ sweet, honey. So pretty.”

Then, as if to punctuate his point, he slid his tongue down the whole wet mess of your slit, and he moaned. He curled the muscle and invaded your sticky, sensitive, precious warm flesh with vigor and force—maybe a little desperation—and you whined at the feeling. Your toes curled tight. It was doubtlessly a sight to see: Joel’s old and weathered head against your young and supple skin, the wiry greys of his chin rubbing your cunt like no man’s his age should’ve been. He took you gently. Forked his fingers over your folds to hold you open for him and then, over and over and over again, just licking stripes. Squelching noises only seemed to goad him on while he buried his nose and savored your taste without reserve. Your stomach clenched with that pleasure, then swelled.

“That’s my girl—so good for me,” Joel said, as though reminding you, gently, it was okay to relish the feeling.

Once more, he suckled your clit in his mouth, rubbing the tip of his tongue in a quick back-and-forth motion, and the next sensation hit without a breath of warning.

Your belly twisted again, then flushed with hot pleasure.

“My— fuck,” you cried, shuddering with a climax you didn’t know was coming. You held his head and whined.

Joel’s tongue didn’t stop. Your vision blurred. Whatever reprieve you might’ve hoped to find came in the form of his lips drawing back, momentarily, only to sponge little kisses on your still-pulsing heat. Your body jolted back.

“I c— I’m done. I’m done,” you blurted out.

Joel nodded against you. Humming through his kisses:

“I know. Keep going.”

Keep going.

So simple.

Still, you couldn’t breathe. Your sight was inundated with stars. You felt Joel’s stubble on your slit again, only this time, the pleasure was tripled. Your legs trembled, and your hands made fists in his hair. Joel kept on kissing.

And kissed again, again, and again, until your fingers in his locks pulled taut to the roots and your hips were bucking up in his face: ‘Too much, t—oh fuckfuckfuck.’

Then came a buzz. Skirting your legs in a blink, before diving to meet Joel’s mouth on your clit. You shrieked.

“I know, I know,” Joel joined, as though soothing a wound while he maneuvered the vibrator. Lifting his head and then kissing your thigh, “I know. You’re alright.”

You wanted to sob; you felt ready to burst. You trusted Joel’s judgment but had never been subjected to this sort of pleasure. What if it was more than you could take?

“I’m here.”

Joel’s words were slow to crawl off his tongue, but their intent was clear. You writhed once more, and he was kissing your skin, rubbing your thighs, and taking the toy to your clit with a warm, devoted touch. He wasn’t cruel.

He had a glint in his gaze when you met it, like he knew you wouldn’t accept this feeling alone—but he wanted you to. He wanted the indulgence to be your own and an end in itself. There was care in his touch, tender praise with every caress, and you guessed this was intentional. Joel needed you to know this was more than only his.

You felt more naked than you’d ever been: soaking the sheets with your last release, fresh arousal trickling out, Joel’s spit mixing with your nectar and sweat and pressing you down in the bed. And nudging you, gently.

“‘S’okay, baby. You’re alright. That feels nice, doesn’t i—”

“Kiss me.”

It came out faster than you could even try and stop it. You weren’t sure why you said it. The words were acerbic on your tongue—you hated ever sounding needy—but then your mind and your mouth and your worries were all silenced at once when Joel came clambering up for you.

His lips were wet and grinning as he kissed you. He held the vibrator hostage between your legs while his body pressed tight against yours. His movements slowed.

Then, as if he’d crawled in your head and read your mind:

“It’s okay to need me, baby. It’s okay to want this.”

His hips made that assurance even clearer. Joel reached down and took the vibrator again, increasing the friction between your groin and his while he pressed the buzzing toy to your clit. You whined into his mouth at the feeling.

Your eyes rolled back, and the pleasure soared. This morning, you might’ve bristled at the words he’d just spoken, but here, in this bed, it felt okay. It felt safe.

Joel felt safe, for once, and you weren’t sure how to keep that idea from sticking—how to reconcile the notion of swapping sex for cash with a man for months on end, and then this. Your stomach churned. He held your face and kissed you more, and your clit throbbed and ached. Before you could ponder your thoughts a second longer, a white-hot pleasure washed over, and you came again.

“Good girl,” Joel cooed.

Throbbing even more this time.

“That’s a sweet girl. That’s my baby.”

All but aching with desire. Feeling it double.

“Cum for daddy, that’s it. Keep going.”

Feeling it trickle down your legs.

“She’s feelin’ real good, huh?”

You could barely breathe.

You whined. Felt something splinter between your thighs and then more of it, more of you and that slick, oozing pleasure and Joel’s groans, overjoyed—‘Making a fucking mess’a daddy, isn’t she? She feel that good?’—and by ‘that good’ you guessed it was more than normal.

This was more warmth than usual. Somewhere in the midst of your own mind-numbing pleasure, you’d let out a spurt, sticky and wet. It now coated the hairs on Joel’s tummy, and while his skin shone, his eyes were brighter. He flitted a look to you, gaze flaring, and slid down. Low.

Back to where he was before. Moving the buzzing pink bullet aside and letting his mouth assume its place.

Of course, you yelped.

“Joel!”

You winced, both from saying his name and feeling so raw. Joel grinned at the sound and suckled your clit.

It was drenched. You and Joel, too, were doused all over and practically gleaming under the rays of late afternoon sun then pouring through the window. For a second, you cast a look outside like you had before, but it was only to brace your body for the bliss at hand. You stared and felt a crude, carnal shockwave seize you head to toe. It traveled fast and made you release, again, or else just continue the same flow as before—and this time, into Joel’s waiting mouth. He lapped at you feverishly now.

He squeezed your legs and licked you dry. He worked in merciless circles, like his life might have depended on making you stay at this peak. All the while, you were tearing at his hair. Riding his face as your body fell apart.

That was alright. This pleasure was yours for now, but there was still time yet to make it worth his while, you reasoned in a half-intoxicated state. Your legs vibrated as you started to crawl—limp—back up in the bed and, numb with elation and a desperate need to please, you stretched your arm toward the night stand. You huffed.

You reached blindly but got it. The box. Weak fingers found the first plastic strip and tore yourself a square. Then, lifting it to Joel, you ignored the last stabs of pleasure between your legs. This was fun, but still his.

“Go on,” you told him, breathless, “Fuck me.”

Joel quirked a brow. He took the condom, still panting himself. He brought the latex to his tip out of habit, then:

“Yeah? Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

Your head was swimming. Somewhere entrenched in the furthest recesses of your brain you could feel it, that dizzying, self-centered pleasure. You pushed it back.

You suffocated it, and you spread your legs wide for him. You let him lay you down and tug the rubber over his cock, then nudge at your hips to situate himself in just the right way. How he liked it. He seemed to be content, and your heart swelled. In this airy, buoyant state, you felt more at ease to speak, sure that he’d understand.

“This should cover some of it, right?” you panted out.

Joel slowed.

“What?”

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eager to keep going. But you steeled yourself, just barely, then.

“Sex. Now,” you said, “It’ll cover some of my car repairs.”

Instead of nodding like you’d expected, Joel only blinked. Then you opened your mouth to speak again, and his body stopped you cold. He planted a hand beside your head on the pillow and raised his hips; you felt his heat leave with it. You reached for his backside immediately, to try and pull him back into that pre-missionary position he’d held, when Joel brushed you off. His face was hard.

“Money?” he quipped.

“Yeah,” you started, then remembered how you talked outside of the bedroom, when he seemed more serious, “We’ll go again. All week. You can even put it in my—”

Joel balked, like you’d just slapped him across the face.

“No,” he said, sharp.

“No,” he repeated, more to himself this second time. Almost as though he couldn’t believe what you were suggesting—and making him guilty by association.

Joel clenched your pillow like a vice and shook his head.

“You’re not getting paid for this,” he finished, and when your gaze penetrated his, confused, he squeezed harder.

“Thought you wanted it.” Joel added, almost shamefully.

“I do! I do…I just—” you sputtered.

“What? Think you need to offer up a week and a half of fucking to make it worth my time? Is that what this is?”

Well, in a way, maybe.

You weren’t sure what to say. Former dizzying bliss was dwindling fast, and now you were facing him cold. Sober.

Increasingly irritated, again.

“I just need money, Mr. Miller—”

“It’s Joel, hon,” he bit back, for the fourth time that day. His eyes flared with something more, maybe annoyance, but then he was tempering it just as fast. He ran a hand through his damp grey hair and shook his head, pausing, “It’s Joel. I know you need the money, baby, but it’s—”

“It’s what we agreed,” you protested, “What I need—”

“Well it’s not what I want!” Joel barked.

Anger surged again, and this time, evidently, the feeling was harder to keep at bay. He was scarcely able to rein in his features, settling on a grave little scowl instead of a frown, and he sucked in shorter, shallower breaths through his nose. You felt him let your pillow go.

“Forget it—the cash.” Joel grit his teeth even tighter, “Forget these payments and the goddamn allowance I’ve had you on. I can’t do that anymore. It’s not right.”

Your heart sank.

You didn’t know what to say.

Luckily, Joel’s voice resumed on its own.

“Whatever you want, whatever you need, sweetheart…”

He stopped. Silence followed, then stretched on for one full, terrible minute. In that interim, you could see his chest rise and fall fast. He was trying to slow it down.

“Whatever you need paid off, I’ll do it. Anything. You don’t have to touch me again. It was wrong of me to allow that in the first place,” he rejoined, tone cooling.

Sounding guilty, too.

Above you, Joel didn’t seem keen on holding your gaze, so he fixed his stare someplace on the headboard instead. Then he moved off your body, slowly.

In spite of the distance he attempted to give, he was still crowding your space. Looming large and bare and weary as you’d ever seen him, knees shuffling back awkwardly through a mass of cotton sheets while his eyes shifted low. Away. The rest of him filled your lungs with a heady cologne scent and your stomach with a thousand tiny blades—you were hurt that he wasn’t sticking to his end of the bargain. You were mad that he was trying to claim the moral high ground now, after everything you’d done.

Mostly, though, you were just upset that you felt like you were losing someone close. That Joel Miller was more of a confidant, friend, and father figure than your own dad had ever been, and that got all fucked up over money. Your lips pursed, and something stung behind your eyes when you reached for him again. Your throat stung, too.

“The reason I agreed to do this,” Joel went on, and the ache in your head worsened when he winced from your touch, “was ‘cause I didn’t want you getting ‘help’ from anyone else. I was selfish. And that’s not an excuse…”

He started to move off, hand dropping from yours.

“…but it’s the truth. I’m sorry.”

At length, Joel found your gaze, and the eyes said it all over again: I’m sorry. You might’ve believed them, too.

But you were you, and you couldn’t help but press:

“Why?”

Your voice was small. Joel was trying to stand from the bed, but you grabbed at his hand again and made him meet your eyes. Confusion was painted across his own.

Kneeling in front of him, curious, you tried to clarify.

“Why’d it have to be you?”

Judging from Joel’s expression as soon as you did, you got the sense that this question made him feel dumb. He frowned, but he held your stare and answered anyway.

“Because I wanted you first,” he replied, “Before all this.”

Your stomach twisted. He did?

You didn’t need to ask twice to know what that meant. What he’d said, in words and with a look, was enough. Still, it was always in you to know more, to be sure, so you crept a little closer. You let your hands roam up and—

“No,” Joel said, as soon as your fingers reached his side.

You’d just wanted to feel him, maybe prod him further on what he’d just said through acts that didn’t require verbal articulation, but he refused. He backed up in bed.

“This isn’t about—” he started, low.

“Sex. I know,” you answered for him. Then your touch grazed his thigh, and you were dying to have more. To be told in a way you both knew and understood. To touch, “You want me to believe you really…liked me before?”

“More than you know.”

There was that blunt, open pragmatism in the Joel you’d always known. Perhaps guided by natural inclinations, or else your hand on his leg, drawing higher. Moving closer.

Showing skepticism through your eyes and the hint of a playful, disbelieving smile starting to curl at your lips.

“When you met me?” you teased.

You’d known of Joel for years, and had met him a couple times as a teenager at various firm holiday functions. You probably hadn’t exchanged more than ten words altogether before starting law school a few years back.

“Hell no,” Joel answered, fast, “When you started work.”

His gaze was timid again. It was fixed on his thigh where you’d started to slide your index up the warm, muscled expanse of his skin, and though you could tell he was more than hesitant, you wanted to know. Wanted to feel.

It wasn’t so easy convincing a man you’d been working for—and fucking, largely without feeling—to pay bills that you wanted him here and now. But you needed to try.

That maybe, somewhere along the way, you’d come to want him, too. That cash wasn’t the only thing at stake.

You crawled between his legs, then straddled his hips.

Your lips smiling still as you did: “How much?”

Joel blinked back. Dazed.

“What do you m—”

“How much did you like me? When did it start?”

Joel sighed when your heat rubbed his. He tried grabbing ahold of your hips, when you glanced down and saw he’d already discarded the last condom. You couldn’t have that if you wanted to continue this talk.

You reached back and grabbed another.

“Darlin’,” Joel said, strained, “We shouldn’t…”

“Says who?”

You’d already worked the rubber halfway down his length when his heavy-lidded gaze locked with yours. You saw lust there, mixed with worry. Curiosity. You kept going.

“Says your dad, if he ever finds out what I’ve done to his little girl,” Joel replied, closing his eyes at the feeling.

You had the latex worked down to the base of him when you smiled. Felt him seize your hips, lids fluttering open to find you in their soft, glossy stare, and you felt better. Like clockwork, you went together and joined, at last. You felt Joel squeeze your backside and groan when you first sank down to take him whole. You shuddered, too.

But you tried to steady your voice as you spoke.

“Semantics, Miller,” you told him, only faltering a little, “Things you are ‘doing’ to his little girl. Not just ‘done.’”

There, you had a point. Surely your father would have had some choice words for his business partner and best friend if he knew how far Joel’s cock was currently stuffed inside your tight, wet cunt. It might even piss him off, if he weren’t too drunk to receive the news himself.

Joel blinked hard, signaling that he knew this too, and presently watched your body swallow all eight inches at once, after you’d raised yourself up to just the tip and sank back. Your ass fell to his groin with an obscene sort of squelch, and your walls involuntarily clenched. You both let out sounds of pleasure, and held on tighter.

Your hands on his chest for stability, while one of his own held your hip and the other fumbled around for your clit, gliding through the sheen of your arousal on his front. You rocked your hips and felt how much it really was—how you’d drenched his whole abdomen with your last release. You smiled at this and stared, pleased with the pretty, sticky display you’d laid bare all over Joel’s belly.

When Joel wasn’t watching you ride, he stared there too.

“Not so ‘little’ anymore,” he mused quietly. Then he looked up to find your eyes, seeing them as glazed as his, “And I ‘like’ you, hon. Present tense. Not just…‘liked.’”

Alright.

“How much?”

You wanted to say it with some confidence. Nonchalance. Then Joel’s cock nicked a particularly sensitive ridge inside your walls, and that thought was gone as quick as it had come. You gripped the flesh of his upper chest and rolled your hips harder. Let out your breaths in little fractured whimpers while you rode him more. Another sweet feeling twisted low in your gut.

With just a glimpse of that, Joel moved his hand from your heat up past your hips and waist, to squeeze one of your breasts. His fingers were wet. You could feel them, equal parts warmth and wanton yearning as the pads pinched your nipple and gave it a firm tug. He grunted.

Clearly, there was more to it than just the touching and feeling for him—Joel’s eyes drank in the sight of your skin as it glistened with the arousal he’d just smeared. He thumbed at the wet, stiff peak and swallowed. And, just as you were about to adjust the rhythm of your hips bouncing on him, his free hand joined the first and pulled you down. You cried feeling his cock wedge deep; your hands fell to either side of his body when he yanked your face down to his. He fucked up into you from underneath

You squealed, soft, “Joel!”

He kissed your open mouth. Made you lay flat overtop him while he fucked your dripping hole. You whimpered.

“Joel—” Again.

“I like you so much, sweetheart,” he said, in answer to your last question, lips close, “Does she like me too?”

As if to save him the trouble of a swift reply in words, your body told him instead. You squeezed around his cock, and with another desperate cry, bit his shoulder. He hammered your poor, aching pussy with a groan of his own, and he held your body down to his. Grinning.

Kissing the side of your head while he pounded away. Stroking your hair, “Is that a ‘yes’? She like her daddy?”

Drool was bound to slip out of your mouth any second. Your lips were locked in a permanent ‘o’ while he drilled from under you on the bed. Still, you managed to nod.

“Uh-huh—oh, fuck, fuck, da-ddy. Yes, daddy.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as another blistering wave seared your insides. Joel was relentless with his thrusts now, driving himself in and out without stopping or slowing. He must’ve known you were close. He was too, judging by the sounds of his grunts and hushed tone.

“Let daddy take care of her then, baby. All of her. OK?”

His words trickled through your ear as sweet as honey. His cock was less kind, but that was okay—you liked it.

You loved him here. Taking care of you. Her. Everything.

And, in this half-coherent state of fuckdrunk pleasure, you were tempted to give in to whatever he begged.

It would be so easy. Joel cradled your face in his hand, practically beaming with pride while he fucked you over and over, and your legs were spread, walls were stretched, eyes practically rolling back, and you felt more secure than you’d been in ages. Joel could care for you.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek and hummed.

“Daddy’s got you,” he said, voice all warm assurance.

Nudging you closer and closer to your peak—and perhaps some other form of surrender. Release.

Submission?

Joel wouldn’t be so bad for that.

He could fuck you well and leave you content. Make you forget what it meant to be strapped for cash and saddled with guilt and worry over bills every month. Joel could provide, for now. His eyes said as much; his fingers threaded through your hair and rubbed your scalp. He cupped your face, all fifty-six years in his own looking as handsome as they’d ever been. He felt good. He felt safe.

You were hot. Your legs trembled and ached.

“Is that something you’d want?” he pressed.

And, still holding Joel’s gaze with a heavy-lidded, fucked out look of your own, you surprised yourself by nodding, slowly. Your body was spent, but the curve on your lips, then his, was sincere; Joel nodded back as he grinned.

“Yeah? You mean it, sweetheart?”

He flipped you both over and got on top, never breaking apart. You wound your legs around his back and let him cup your cheeks again, and from this angle, you felt it. You wouldn’t try and fight it now; you just kissed him.

Then you came for a third time, walls clenching and squeezing and gushing again, smearing Joel’s front as he fucked you right through it. His groans were a little more subdued than yours, but in their timbre, you could hear his desperation. He emptied himself inside you, in the condom, and kept holding your face all the while.

You felt a low pulse between your legs. Then another. And another. And another. Joel’s hips began to still, his hefty greying belly bumping lightly against your skin while he drained what was left in his balls, and you swore that his bones might’ve creaked from the sheer force of those final thrusts. He seemed exhausted. Somehow, though, the man looked even better in this state—haggard and worn as he was, the face above your own was soft. Smiling, faintly, and kissing you constantly.

You couldn’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it; you were far too tired and fucked out of your mind to protest right now.

Joel trailed a path with his lips from your chin to your ear. He kissed the hinge of your jaw and sank himself deeper.

“Mr.—” But you caught yourself, shortly, “…Joel.”

He lifted his head, not apologetic in the least.

“Maybe just one more—” he started.

“No,” you finished for him, sharp.

Still smiling, but with your eyes on him in a thinly veiled threat. Joel accepted that and kept his dick where it was.

What followed was gradual but natural enough. A little awkward as you broached that uncharted territory of remaining in the other’s presence after the deed was done, but Joel didn’t seem like he wanted to leave the bed, and you had nowhere else to go until dinner with your dad at eight. There was a moment you wanted to separate your body from Joel’s, if only to slip off to the bathroom by yourself, but the man just held you closer.

“You think your old man will mind if I joined tonight?”

Here the fuck we go.

“He’ll kill you.”

You pushed hard against his hold without getting so much as an inch of give. Joel had to fight back a chuckle.

“Oh, yeah? Why?”

“Because,” you began in a huff. Wriggling with very little success in his arms, while you were pinned in missionary, “I smell like you. You smell like me. My dad’s a drunk, but he can sniff stuff like that out in a heartbeat. Too risky.”

You punctuated those words with a still more serious look, but before you could nudge at his chest again or say something more, you were forced to swallow a scream. Joel’s grip tightened even more, and he moved to stand up from the bed—with you still in his arms and impaled on his cock. He started to walk to the bathroom.

“Great. Shower’s got plenty of room for the two of us.”

“Joel!”

“Glad I don’t have to keep reminding you of my name.”

His voice was smug. Your gaze was hard. Joel was still hard himself, amazingly, and you almost groaned when you felt the head of his cock bump somewhere soft and sensitive inside. He toted you into the big, bright room.

“If not tonight, how ‘bout tomorrow? Just you and me.”

He would never stop this shit. He reached for the faucet.

“Still too dangerous. You know that,” you chided. Your resolve only wavered a little when you felt the hot water start to pelt at your back. Joel closed the glass door, “Besides…I need to focus on figuring my shit out right now. Work and bills and getting myself a rental car soon.”

Joel paused. He turned, still holding you.

Then, just as swiftly as he’d stepped inside, he carried you right back out of the shower. You whined in protest.

He took you over to the bed and set you down. He left to find his wallet and keys. You might’ve been tempted to voice your displeasure in some other way—namely, by marching back to the bathroom, locking the door, and bathing alone—but before you could speak a word, Joel was back. He looked down at you and held out his fist.

“What’s—”

“Your dad and me’ll be up to our eyeballs in bullshit working the Garcia audit tomorrow—and I know you don’t want him seeing us leave together anywhere—so we can meet at Bohanan’s at six. How does that sound?”

You blinked.

“I don’t…have a car.”

Joel opened his hand. Keys dropped out.

In a single glance, you could see they weren’t his.

Joel drove a garish Super Duty F-450, not an Audi. The cogs were quick to turn in your head, but clearly not fast enough, because Joel was closing your fingers over the keys before you could breathe so much as a syllable to him. When you did, it came out more like a stutter. Palpably mad but far too rattled to get much out:

“Joel, I-I can’t—”

“I’ve been meaning to buy one anyw—”

“You’re insane,” you started to push the keys back, and for some reason, your heart was thudding extra hard as you did. You went on, unblinking, “You don’t…need to.”

“I want to.”

Joel’s hands were warm when he pressed both of his palms to secure yours between them. He could probably feel the way it shook a little, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze was too busy trying to find, and hold, your own while you swallowed and stared and racked your numb brain for any words of defiance. At length, nothing came.

All you could do was meet that look. In the soft brown irises above, you could see it all—the need to comfort, and care, and provide where he could, offer better than the hand you’d been dealt and maybe, interspersed with those feelings somewhere, a simpler need in him to give.

For once, you wanted to believe it.

Fun fact: This fic was inspired by true events‼️💯 My life 😫🤪😤😈 Like reader, my truck is also busted as SHIT and needs $2,700 in repairs!!!! Unlike reader, I will not be sucking and fucking Joel Miller to recoup my losses (not asking for donations, just wanted to give y’all a giggle at my misfortune LOL)

#ENOUGH BULLSHITTING WE NEED MORE GLUCOSE GUARDIAN JOEL ON THE TL NEOWWWWW #🫵🏼😐#i’m begging y’all to write more for this very particular and off-putting dynamic bc i love it dearly #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller tlou #the last of us fic

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themultifandomgal · 4 months ago

Note

Could you do an established relationship jay halstead x petite reader? She’s in the fbi, has a PhD, and is quite young. (She’s like 25-27) She’s shy and pretty innocent. Jay introduces her to the unit. When they meet her they don’t see how she’s an fbi agent. Then the fbi takes over a scene and she’s a total badass. Jay is proud and he’s like that’s my girl.

Jay Halstead- My Girl

I absolutely loved this idea! I had so much fun writing this one. I hope you enjoy!

No one knew about Jays girlfriend, in fact everyone thought he was single. So when Jay arrived at Molly’s with a petite woman on his arm, everyone was shocked to say the least, even more so when Will gave her a hug and the pair looked like they have known each other for a while. The noise of conversation and clinking of glasses filled the air as they made their way to a table in the corner. It was a Friday night, a rare occasion for Jay and his colleagues to be out all together.

As they sat down, Erin, his partner, was the first of Jays coworkers to greet the couple

“Im so happy you could come. Who is this lovely lady, Jay?" she asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

Jay smiled proudly and replied, "This is YN. My girlfriend. She works for the FBI." YN, who was naturally shy and reserved, gave a polite nod but said nothing. Erin's eyes widened in surprise, she looks over to Jay shock written all over her face

“Oh wow you’ve kept her quiet Jay” Jay just shrugs in response.

Through the evening the drinks flow, but YN continues to stay quiet, just observing the space around her

“So FBI huh? You seem too quiet and innocent for that line of work”

YN simply smiled and shrugged, used to this reaction from people who underestimated her based on her demeanor. She was well aware of her ability to blend in and appear unassuming, a skill that served her well in her line of work. She knew that her quiet nature was one of her greatest assets, allowing her observer others and gather crucial information for her cases. As the night went on YN and Jay finished up the evening and headed off back home.

YN sat in her car, staring at the building in front of her. It’s been 2 weeks since she met Jays coworkers and now she’s been asked to help the intelligence unit with a tough case. She steps out of the car and strode confidently towards the entrance, her gun hidden securely in its holster.

As she entered the building, she was greeted by the sight of her boyfriend Jay and his boss Voight, both standing in the lobby, waiting for her

“YN thank you so much for coming” Voight says holding out his hand. Immediately YN takes his hand in hers, shaking his hand

“No problem, happy to help”

“Please follow us” Voight takes YN to the bullpen where the rest of their coworkers are standing around a bulletin board

“You all remember YN” Jay says first

“She’s joining us on this case” voight tells everyone who greets the girl

“So what do you know so far?” YN says getting straight into the case

“We know that Doms father owned a huge farm down state. When she died Dom inherited 30 million” Antonio hands over the case file to YN who takes a look at all the information at hand “he took out 10 million 2 days before he went missing” YN looks up at the team

“Did anyone actually see him though?”

“Taking the money out?” Jay asks

“At all”

“What are you saying?” Erin frowns

“I dont think he’s missing. Did you get the autopsy report on the mum?”

“No, she died of natural causes” Antonio crosses his arms

“Are you positive on that? I want to see an autopsy report somethings just not adding up”

unwavering, her determination driving her to catch the criminal at any cost.

YN got what she needed, the autopsy report showed that Doms mum did not die of natural causes, in fact she was poisoned slowly over time. YNs theory of dom not being missing made him their first suspect.

As they neared the location where Dom was believed to be hiding, YN's instincts kicked in. With a nod to Jay, she signaled that it was time to make their move.

They burst into the building, guns drawn. YN's training kicked in

“On the floor, now!” YN shouts pointing her gun at Dom “keep your hands where we can see them”

In a matter of moments, Dom was apprehended. Jay and the rest of his team watch the girl they once thought of as quiet become this confident woman. Jay watches on, feeling a sense of pride and love. That’s his girl who he’s extremely proud of.

#one chicago #one chicago imagine #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x oc #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #jay halstead x yn

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leah-lover · 4 months ago

Text

Royal support part 2. (smut).

Jenni Hermoso x Alexia putellas x royal!reader.

The first thing you clocked was the smell of roses in the room, then the beeping sounds of the heart monitor before you opened your eyes. You were told that that wasn't the first time you woke up, you were in and out of consciousness for 2 days. The pain was slowly getting more noticeable but that was easily remedied with pain killers.

Memories of that night jolted you awake one more time this morning. The blood, the screams, the crowd of security, but more importantly your girlfriends. You were worried sick about what they were thinking and feeling but there was nothing you could do in the state that you were in. You were visited frequently by your parents, siblings, and the prime minister but there was only one person you wanted to walk through your door, Antonio, he would make it possible for you to talk to your lovers.

After a few persistent calls, Antonio paid you a visit. When he came next to your bed he couldn't look you in the face.

“ I need to talk to them.” You said as soon as you spotted him.

“ That is not possible, princess. Your father gave us strict orders. Your safety is the most important thing.” He said while still looking at the floor.

“ How are they? Did you talk to them?”

“ Yes, your highness. I personally reassured them that you were alive and okay. However, they weren't in the availability squad list for tomorrow's match.”

“ Antonio, I need to see them find a way.”

“ I will try princess.”

“ One thing before you go, who shot me?”

“ He was an anti-monarchist. He knew from your statement that you were going to support the national team so he targeted you. he is going to serve his sentence to the fullest.”

“ Okay. Bring me your plan as soon as possible.” You said to him before he left.

It only took him 12 hours before he came to you with a plan that would allow you to see your girlfriends. The plan involved his apartment in Madrid where your lovers were waiting for you. You got in a car with only him, and left the palace in secrecy.

When you entered his apartment you found them waiting in the living room. This time neither one of them jumped to hug you which left you puzzled.

“ I survived a gunshot and the only thing I get is a stare down from you. This is a terrible lack of respect.” you say jokingly.

You didn't even blink yet before some familiar lips were locked with yours. It was sweet, and soft how a pair of hands rested on your hips ever so gently. You gave in the kiss, taking everything you could from it before letting go. Alexia put her forehead on yours and whispered “ I was so scared. I love you. I love you so much.”

“ I am okay, I survived, everything is going to be okay.” you respond.

You retreated from the blonde beauty only to direct your eyes towards the tattooed brunette. You walked towards her, ran your hand all over her arms and gave her a tight hug. She seemed to loosen up in your arms as you whispered in her ears how much you love too and how much everything is going to be fine.

“ I believe there's a certain reward you both deserve for that stunning performance the other day”

They both looked puzzled and confused.

“ I am not made of glass.” You say with an annoyed expression.

“ But amor you need to be careful.” responded Alexia.

“ I know you both are going to take care of me.”

Hesitation was still apparent on their faces. So you decided to take matters into your own hands. You took your shirt off first, then your shoes, and your bra. You weren't embarrassed about your wound dressing being visible but you got a little red when taking off your pants proved to be a challenge. Jenni hurried to your side, knelt on her knees and started to slowly take off your pants leaving a small peck after each bit she took off. Alexia moved slowly after her, her hand went immediately to the premise of your wound dressing, tracing around it gently.

“ Are you sure this is okay?” she asked

“ I miss you ale.” you responded. This was enough for her to kiss you with more courage than she did before. The kiss wasn't long because you immediately got picked up and taken into the bedroom.

“ This isn't fair, I am naked and you are fully dressed. Why don't you undress each other “ you ordered while laying in bed.

“come quieras mi Reina.” Said Jenni.

They take their time as they undress each other. They looked so good together in their own little world as love radiated from between them. They both looked towards you when they were done. Jenni then immediately heads for your lips and Alexia for your neck. They both kiss you lovingly making you clench your core. They both move all the way through the length of your body kissing your chest, your breasts, and your stomach and leaving their marks along the way. Once they arrived at your core Alexia took off your underwear and looked at you seductively.

“ All of this just for us.” She said before she started to suck on your clit. You arched your back in surprise but you accidentally injured your wound which made you hiss in pain. Jenni asked you immediately if you wanted to stop but you shut her down. “ Don't you think ale looks so good while she is going down on me. “ you said breathlessly.

“ Hmh.” Responded Jenni. She then gave you a kiss and disappeared into the living room. You kept your attention on Alexia who was an expert on all things that pleased you, you rewarded her efforts with pornographic moans.

Jenni came a few minutes later with a strap hooked on her core. She went immediately for Alexia's ass who was on the air. With a little loube she inserted her strap in Alexia which made her jolt. She continued to eat you out while Jenni was trusting in her and raising her pace little by little.

The more attention your clit got, the closer you were to coming. When Jenni noticed your back arching she was quick to notify Alexia. The later stopped immediately and switched her tongue with her fingers inside you. She thrusted into you while Jenni thrusted into her. Moans were filling up the air and pleasure was on the horizon for three of you.

You were the first one to start begging for release to which Jenni agreed. You came first all over Alexia's face and fingers. Those fingers made their way to Jenni’s mouth who was moving at a monstrous pace, spanking Alexia's ass in the process until they both came undone.

Once Jenni disposed of her strap she brought two glasses of water and two warm cloths to clean both of her girlfriends, that's when she noticed your wound dressing having a little blood on it.

“ Amor your wound.” She said anxiously.

“ It's fine I will deal with that later I am just glad I am hear with you right now.”

“ We can go for round two if you want.” Said Alexia.

“ We will see in a little bit. I just want to be close to you right now. Both of you “

Alexia adjusted her body and opened her arms for you to lay on her chest.

“ Come here Jenni please”

Jenni brought a blanket, and got behind you. Before long you fell asleep.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso request #woso smut #alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas imagine #alexia x reader #alexia putellas #alexia × jenni × reader #jenni hermoso imagine #jenni hermoso #jenni hermoso smut #jenni hermoso fic #jenni hermoso angst

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sebscore · 1 year ago

Note

Can you write something with Kimi in his Alfa Romeo seasons and driver!reader? I miss him so much :(

GIDDY GOODBYES

pairings: raikkonen family x driver!reader

author's note: is this inspired by that cute antonio and kimi moment in abu dhabi '21? Yes. i miss him too :((

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''You want to swap helmets later?'' Kimi asked her, the sound of screaming and applauding fans surrounding them as they stood on the moving bus.

Her eyes widened as the question left his lips, surprised that the Alfa Romeo driver would want to do the tradition with her. ''Uh, yeah, sure. I would love to.'' Her slightly open mouth turned into a bright smile.

''Rianna has been asking for you the entire week so you can see her then as well.'' The Finn grinned. The female driver had been Kimi's daughter's favourite driver since the girl had started attending the F1 races.

Y/N chuckled at his words. ''I'll bring some merch for her and Ace.''

''Really? That's very sweet, they'll like it a lot.'' Kimi appreciated all the time she would spend with his kids, knowing the joy it brought to them.

''I love spoiling my fans,'' she smiled, ''as long as I get like a cool helmet from you, though! I'm very particular about my collection.''

The young woman was known for all the helmets of other drivers she had received over the years. She had proudly shown them off in a livestream after someone asked about the drivers she had swapped helmets with, even admitting she had to buy several extra shelves to store all of them.

''I was told, I'll do my best.'' Kimi laughed, recalling someone from the Alfa Romeo team telling him about the driver's special collection as soon as he informed them about his desire to swap helmets with her.

The Iceman didn't disappoint, gifting her one of his more unique helmet designs of the season with a short, but sentimental message written on the side: ''You've proven them wrong. Keep going. Stay smiling.'' His signature penned under it.

Y/N had written a longer goodbye: ''Thank you for all the great races you have given us. It was an honour to share the track with you these last years. Good luck with your ice cubes, Iceman :)''

They mumbled a ''thank you'' towards each other as they handed one another their helmets, reading the messages with soft smiles on their faces. The pair posed for a picture together, their own respective team's photographers and Kimi's wife, Minttu, snapping a photo of them.

''I'm gonna miss your silence.'' Y/N chuckled, causing others to do so as well.

''I will miss your loudness.'' Kimi retorted, having everyone laugh even harder at his blunt and witty response.

The Finn reached out to her with his free arm, initiating a hug with the young woman. She was caught off guard. The man had never offered her an embrace before- their physical interactions only going as far as a fistbump.

She accepted, wrapping her own free arm briefly around him and resting her hand on his back. Kimi patted her own back a few times.

The pair pulled back, satisfied smiles on both their faces. The Alfa Romeo driver crouched down next to his daughter. ''We will see her soon, okay?'' He reassured Rianna, who didn't take her eyes off the female driver as she absentmindedly nodded to what her father was saying.

''You can visit me and we can eat a lot of food together.'' Y/N told the small girl. Rianna smiled brightly at her words, nodding her head.

''Say bye bye to Y/N.'' Kimi whispered to her.

Rianna stepped out of her father's arms. ''Bye bye, Y/N.'' The little girl skipped over to her, jumping into the older woman's embrace. ''Bye bye.'' Y/N kissed the side of Rianna's head, touched by the youngest Raikkonen's love.

As the girls pulled apart, Kimi picked his daughter up- facing his, now, former competitor. ''Have a safe trip home, okay?''

Y/N nodded, appreciating his concern. ''You guys too.''

Minttu stepped forward, also offering the woman a hug. ''We wish you the best next season. We'll continue to root for you.'' She smiled, stating her support for the female driver.

''Thank you so much, and have a nice Christmas together.'' Y/N said to her, appreciating that their family would continue rooting for her. She also high-fived a shy looking Robin who clinged to his mother.

''We'll call, okay?'' Kimi mimicked a phone with his hand, looking at her. She nodded her head, delighted the man wanted to continue having contact with her.

''We will.''

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #kimi raikkonen x reader #f1 female driver #f1 x female driver #female f1 driver #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x you

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hischeapcigar · 1 year ago

Text

the rock in our throats

Pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x fem reader

Summary: Joel and Y/N face the society reacting to their age-gap.

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings: MISUNDERSTANDING-TROPE, ANGSSSTTTTT, SMUT SMUT (these are definitely not in order or you’ll be spoiled) MDNI

a/n: im back with another Joel fic!!!! This is a whole rollercoaster so buckle up!!! Also know that Snow, Lace girls) and Lock (boy) are three of my OCs, I named them after inanimate objects just so they don’t offend anyone with the same name. <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated.

Feet with their mind of their own carried you downstairs with a speed of light. You had heard Joel’s truck pulled in the driveaway, causing you to abandon the book you were reading to keep your mind from racing about his arrival.

Just as your feet planted on the floor, your eyes fixed on the door as it slightly pushed open revealing the man you had hopelessly fell for two years ago. He hadn’t acknowledged you as he quietly shut the door. Turning around, the pair of warm brown eyes set on you, when he sees you standing there in your pajamas, adoringly staring at him, his face softens.

He dropped his bag, a sigh of relief escaping his lips and within a heartbeat you launched yourself at him. Arms flying around his neck as his hands gripped your waist, steadying you.

“Missed you so much” you mumbled in his neck. He tightened his grip on you at the admission.

Joel had been to San Antonio for a week to negotiate a contract with a customer.

“Me too, baby,” he whispered, bringing his right hand to stroke your hair

You pulled away as you realized he must be tired, but before you could ask anything, he pulled you into him,

“Shouldn’t have stayed up, ‘s late” he placed a kiss on your lips that you were quick to deepen. You sighed as he lightly bit your bottom lip.

“Mmm, couldn’t sleep without knowing you made home safe,” you smiled up at him, “you hungry?”

He shook his head no, loving the way you treated him like a child and cared for him.

“Not hungry, back pain ‘s all, wanna sleep”

You smiled drop as he gently tugged you towards the stairs. Your small hands in his much larger ones. He led you to the bedroom you shared for the past month,

Moving in with Joel after almost two years of hidden relationship was a way to make it official to everyone that you both were together. Though whatever you had anticipated could happen, did happen; continual discussion of your age difference, about him being divorced, about you being naive, about him being a father.

Given that you both placed a high priority on your relationship, you hadn’t truly heard the gossip by your own ears. However, you had observed the glances that were directed towards you on two separate occasions when you and Joel were present at the mart.

His steps halted in front of Sarah's door, “she was good?” he asked over his shoulders.

You nodded your head, “Joel she’s not a kid, of course she was alright,”

He pulled you in the bedroom, as you continued, “Plus i think since i moved in, we’ve bonded even more”

Joel was quick to introduce you and Sarah once you both had confessed the love to each other. And Sarah was quick to welcome you in her life. It was perfect among you three. It was your perfect world. Except that you had to face the world outside your bubble, which was a little too far from perfect.

Joel turned around to peck your cheek, “so proud ‘f my girls”

My girls. You smiled

You were his. You belonged with him. With them. The fact still released butterflies in your stomach.

Joel took off his shirt and winced. Your facial expression displayed a distortion of worry which Joel was quick to observe, “back’s hurtin’ is all, don't worry,'' he smiled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, pulling your forehead close to his lips to place a chaste kiss.

“We need to get some gel, Joel” you reminded him

This is how you found yourself standing in the mart, in front of the shelf with gels. You had dropped Sarah school before heading here. Joel was asleep when you both left. Sarah wanted to meet her dad but you suggested that she lets him get enough sleep and meet him when she returns from school, to which she happily agreed.

Skimming your eyes through the rack, you found the one you were looking for, Voltarol. You grabbed one and walked toward the counter. You picked a few snacks on the way there.

“y/n?” you heard a lady call your name

Turning around, you met none other than the most gossipy woman of the town, Nancy.

“Hi!” you put on your best fake smile to greet her

“Whatcha got there?” she asked, eyes already prying your arms. You could have taken a basket but snacks weren’t planned.

“Oh, just snacks” you shrugged, you kept your answer short, avoiding the long conversation

“And, what’s that? A gel?” she asked earning a groan from you,

“Yeah, Joel’s got a back pain so i figured-”

“Of course!” she exclaimed startling you

Looking at your furrowed brows, your confused stance she continued, “I mean,” she sang, “Joel’s old. Don’t you think you’re too young to settle for that old man and tend to his back pain?”

Your heart sank at her words, and more at the amount of venom that dripped from that single sentence alone.

“Don’t you think you’re a little too nosy in others’ decisions?” you spat as you moved to the side,

“Jeez, relax! You’re turning into an old grumpy woman. Maybe something about the company-”

You left before she could say more. The longer you stood, she would’ve fed you with her sick mindset.

Of course Joel was old. But that never lessened the love you had for him. You had been with guys around your age and all you ended up with was a broken heart and then came Joel, treating you like a real gentleman would.

You both took sufficient time to make a decision about living together. Your relationship being a secret never attracted comments but once the news spread through the town about you and Joel living together, every other mouth was murmuring about you both.

Staying in most of the time had its perks; you never found out about all the gossip. But it could only last so long.

You paid the cashier before hurrying to your car. Settling in, you took a few deep breaths.

She’s just being mean. I won't let her ruin my day. Her words don’t mean anything. Joel and I love each other, that's what matters the most.

As soon as you closed the door, entering the house, you were met with silence. Joel‘s still asleep.

Placing the snacks on the counter you climbed the stairs, a gel in your hand, and a planned massage for him in your head. You opened the door to see Joel lying on his stomach. With his moments you could tell he had woken up and then his voice sounded,

“Where’d ya go?” eyes closed, he muttered, his voice hoarse. You crossed bed to stand on his side,

“Dropped Sarah, and picked this” you grinned, showing him the gel

He squinted his eyes to read the label, “darlin’ you didn’t have to” he turned around to lay on his back.

“Of course, I had to!” you tapped his legs, urging him to sit up. He obliged without any protest and god did you love it when he was submissive to you, knowing the outside world would never see this soft Joel.

“Still hurtin’? You asked as you noticed a slightest distress in his face as he sat up

“A little” he grunted

You tugged at his shirt, “off” you demanded

“You don’t have to-” he looked up at you as he rubbed his eyes

“I know, Joel. I want to” you softly cut his sentence

He layed back on his stomach again as you straddled his legs. Just having him naked except for sleeping boxers, totally submitting to you, sent a tingle down your core. But you ignored it. Your only focus was to make Joel feel better.

You squirted some gel on your palm, setting the tube on the side,

“I’ve never done this before,” you warned him,

“Neither have I, honey,” his muffled voice giving rise to a small giggle leaving your lips

You carefully splayed your hands on his lower back as you spread the gel. the delicious combination of the hotness of his skin mixed with the coolness of the gel stirred something in your stomach,

Focus. Focus. Focus

You pressed your fingers in his muscles, feeling the knots. He moaned at the relief.

“Felt so good,” he muttered,

You continued massaging his back, digging your fingers wherever you felt the stress. Taking notes of and following what brought him pleasure, you moved your small hands through his back and shoulders. Occasionally scratching his back with your nails and pulling the sounds of pleasure from his throat.

All the sounds he made did not help, but only worsened the condition between your legs. You felt giddy, knowing you made him feel this good.

You only prayed that the wetness between your legs didn’t seep through your thin pajamas and on his skin. Because this was about him and him only. Completely oblivious of Joel's situation underneath you, that after a few digs and dips of your fingers he started getting hard and by this time he was rock hard.

“Baby” he breathed, “st-stop” he started to move, his cock taking control of his brain,

You were startled, immediately getting off of his legs, “did- did i do something wrong?” you asked innocently,

He laid on his back as he stared at the ceiling, his breaths heavy “no darlin’, you did a good job, ‘s jus’-” he huffed as he took your hand and placed it on his member

Your mouth hung open as you felt his cock through his boxers, your mouth salivating just at the imagination,

He looked at you, waiting for you to say something,

“Good thing I know how to take care of that too,” you smirked as you moved to hook your fingers on the waistband of his boxers as you slowly, teasingly, slid them down, closely watching his reaction change.

“That’s my gir- mmph”

As soon as his cock sprang free from its confines your gaze immediately left Joel’s.

His angry reddened tip, decorated with beads of his precum stood hard. You wasted no second in stradling his laps. Your petite fingers wrapped around his member, thumbing on his tip; spreading his leak through the length. You pushed your hair to one shoulder as you bent forward, maintaining eye contact with Joel’s hooded eyes, you kissed the tip, earning a strangled moan.

You smirked, loving the effect you had on him. His eyes begged for more. You hollowed your mouth, taking his length in your mouth. Your fingers toying with his base. The taste of him was the first taste of your day. His hand made its way to your hair, guiding your mouth; in and out.

“Jus’ like that, baby” he praised

He grunted when you twirl your tongue around him, his cock twitching letting you know he’s close.

“Such a good girl, f’ me,” you watched his eyes closed as he bucked his hips in your mouth, losing himself in the pleasure.

You quickly removed your mouth, saliva spilling from the sides of your lips,

“Eyes on me,” you demanded and god did that turn him on

“Y-yes mami, please continue” he struggled to keep his eyes open, with your plush lips wrapped around his thick cock.

He guided his cock to your throat causing you to gag. He smirked, repeating the action until tears spilled from your eyes. He used his free hand, gently wiping the tears.

Perfect combination of rough and soft

You were soaking wet at this point, his dick in your mouth, hand fisted in your hair, and his sinful moans and grunts in your ears.

He guided your head away, as he manhandled you and in a split second your positions were switched. You gasped as your head hit the soft pillow while Joel towered over you, on his knees.

“That…was impressive” you breathed as Joel connected your lips in a feverish kiss.

“I’ve still got some strength y’know,” he mumbled as he pulled away slightly before he captured your lips again. It was nothing soft and slow but all teeth and tongue fighting for dominance.

You would've just giggled at his response but instead you felt a pang of hurt in your chest,

Joel’s old. Her voice rang in your ears as you blinked your eyes to focus in the moment

Joel grumbled tasting himself on you. Too lost in the kiss you missed when his hands slipped to your sides, pulling down your pajamas and panties in one swift motion.

You broke the kiss, “Joel” you took a deep breath, his eyes finding yours, waiting for your command, “fuck me wreckless”

His smirk grew at the command, “yes, m’lady”

His fingers found your cunt in an instant. You moaned at the contact of his calloused fingers with your aching center.

He circled your clit a few times before plunging his middle finger knuckles deep without a warning,

You screamed, “of fuck, Joel-”

“M gonna wreck you, darlin” he grunted as he drove his finger in and out while his thumb pressed on your pussy, making you squirm,

“Nngh feels so good” you moaned,

“So needy, huh?” his eyes glued to throbbing pussy and the juices it squirted,

He added another finger, building the pressure and maintaining the pace. You felt the knot in your stomach tightened.

“Close, mmh Joel, i'm close” you struggled to speak, your knuckles turning white as your gripped the sheets beneath you

You arched into his touch, your legs started to tremble as you felt the climax reach. He used his strong free arm across your stomach to keep you in place as he assaulted your cunt.

“Cum for me, darlin”

And you did, right then and there. You closed your eyes as you screamed his name like a prayer,

“Look at me” he ordered and you blinked away the tears that had formed in your eyes to obey him,

He held your gaze as he lowered his mouth and lapped the juices you had released. He devoured it as the first meal of the day,

“Taste so good,” he mumbled more to himself

He drank every drop until you finished. Your chest heaved as he climbed on top of you and connected your lips,

You both moaned in unison as you tasted yourself on his lips,

“Ready?” he asked as he guided his cock to your entrance

You nodded your head,

“Words” he spat

“Yes, yes Joel, I'm ready!” you whined,

And he slipped in, inch by inch until he was balls deep.

He had fucked you countless times but his size always surprised you and your pussy always hugged him like the first time.

“So fuckin- tight, this pussy,” he grunted as you adjusted to the size

“Move” you croaked and he obliged, setting a slow and steady pace,

“My pussy,” thrust “mine to ruin” thrust, harder, “mine to love,” thrust, harder and faster,

Your walls clenched around him at the words, at the possession,

He had picked up the pace, fucking into you relentlessly. It wasn’t usual he fucked you this hard but you asked for it, and you were glad.

“So thick” you breathed

He sat on his knees as he wrapped your legs around his waist, holding you there, pounding into you through a different angle, brushing your g-spot everytime.

“Right there, yes” you bit your bottom lip,

“Don’t hold back, darlin’ let me hear you” his pace was unbelievable, you felt nothing but him. The coil tightened in your stomach, it was embarrassing how quickly he was pulling another orgasm out of you, splitting you in half,

“Joel, can i cum��”

“Not yet darlin” he stuttered

The feeling was a lot, you tried your best to hold back. The feeling of his cockstretching your walls, his balls tingling your inner thigh in every thrust. Your thighs twitched, as he held them tightly around him,

“Joel, please-” you begged,

His thrusts started to become sloppier, his cock twitched inside you and he nodded,

“C’mon baby, milk my cock,” he urged

That made you trip from the edge and you came, harder. Your mouth forming incoherent words between his name

He never stopped his movement throughout your high, only when you were done did he spill his seeds, covering your insides with his release.

He let go of your legs as he collapsed over you, making sure to shift his weight to his elbows

He looked ethereal, post sex suited him so well. His skin glowing with sweat and morning light. His brown curls were a mess. He placed a lazy kiss on your forehead, then lips, “you ‘kay?” he whispered

You nodded, too blissed out to reply verbally. Too much in awe of his soft, sweet side.

He pulled his cock out and you both winced. He pecked your overstimulated cunt once causing you to shiver before he left for a cloth.

He cleaned both of you, murmuring praises on your skin as he wiped your legs.

“Wrecked ya, huh?” he said as he observed your fucked out state,

You hummed in response, “forgot you even had a back pain”

“What back pain?” he feigned confusion as he tossed away the cloth, causing you to giggle

You knew you couldn’t share your encounter with Nancy at the mart, you knew he was already silently insecure about the age gap.

Joel was quick to return to work after his trip to San Antonio. He headed to a bar with Tommy before returning home. The brothers conversed about a deal that Joel had made.

“Hey, there’s Frank, wanna come?” Tommy said, looking over Joel’s shoulder.

Joel turned his face to see Frank talking to a woman before bringing his attention back to his neat whiskey,

“No, ‘m a’right here” He grumbled, watching Tommy leave from his peripheral vision

He downed his half empty cup before he ordered another. He zoned out looking at his whiskey, his fingers tracing the rim of the glass.

A low grunt beside him caught his attention, turning his face and he was met with Arthur ordering his liquor.

Joel returned his gaze to his whiskey and taking a sip,

“Howdy, Joel? How was San Antonio?” Arthur asked

“Was fine, made a deal” Joel replied, already wanting an out from his company. His head is already cloudy from drinking.

“And how’s ya little thing doing?” Arthur leaned, instantly causing Joel to lean away. He wasn’t sure he heard it right

“What?” Joel barked,

“Ya know,” Arthur swung his wrist gripping the glass of whatever he ordered, he shrugged, “that sweet little y/n-”

“Watch your mouth” Joel growled

“All i’m saying is she’s too young, deserves someone who can actually take care ‘f her” if Arthur was any sober he would’ve shut up after Joel’s first warning, but he just mindlessly continued,

Joel’s bore a hole on the side of his head with his intense gaze, his grip tightening on the glass as he watched Arthur speak, “jus’ feel bad for her, stuck with you–”

Joel gathered Arthur’s collar in his hand,

POW!

Joel’s fist collided with Arthur’s jaw in a swift motion.

“- and when i told Chris about it, he was equally appalled and said, no offense” Lace lightly held your arm before quoting her boyfriend, “it’s a phase for you and that you’d get over Joel, either way its- ” you gaze shifted to Snow who stood beside Lace, offering you an apologetic smile,

Snow and Lace were your best friends since school. Snow never judged you for your relationship with Joel. Lace, on the other hand, did not always agree with your choices even if she did love you.

“Lace,” you began, cutting her rambles, “i’m happy, isn’t that enough?” you sighed, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes.

The three of you were at Millie’s, one of your mutual friends, birthday party. It was your first public appearance after moving in with Joel. you were too scared to join but Lace and Snow were adamant about you joining them.

Few of the girls asked you weird questions but thanks to your two friends who cornered you to avoid more conversations.

Lace was quick to notice your eyes, as she took your hand, “of course! but-”

“No ‘but’s, we’re done. I think I should head home, it’s pretty late,” Snow announced, your gaze darted to the clock, 11:45 stared back at you.

“Yeah, i’m leaving too-”

“y/n?” it was, Auburn, one of Millie’s friend who you met twice at parties, you knew she cheated on multiple boys just because she thought she was too good for them, “wh- are you guys leaving already?” Auburn looked around the three of you,

“Yeah, can’t stay out late, y’know” Snow carelessly answered as she fished something from her bag, leaving the kitchen

“And let me guess, y/n, you have to go home to your old man?” Auburn directed at you

“Well, at least I have someone to go home to,” you knew it was a cruel jab, but you didn’t care at the moment.

She gasped, clearly taken aback, “Wow, the old man-”

“It’s Joel” you interrupted, to which she only rolled her eyes before continuing,

“Yeah, poor Joel, i mean, having to deal with you every single day, God, i’d be damned”

Before you could reply, Lock showed up at the kitchen door, “hey, I was leaving, ya need a ride? Snow’s in the car” He was one of your close friends.

Lock got a nod from you before you pointed at Auburn, “Maybe you need to grow up,” you muttered, already heading out of the kitchen before you heard her voice, “don’t go falling in love, it’s all about good fuck-” you shut the door behind you,

You quickly got into Lock's car, not bothering to bid anyone goodbye. Your vision was glossy, you held back your tears through the small distance to your house,

It was around 12 when you stepped in the house, the television was on in the living room. You peeked to see sarah on the couch,

“Sarah, what are you doing up?” your voice was harsher than intended,

She jumped and you almost felt guilty for the way you scared her,

“You’ve got school tomorrow, go to bed. Now.” you scolded watching her turn off the tv as she muttered a small ‘sorry’ heading upstairs.

Joel still wasn’t home. And as an unspoken rule, you didn’t want to go to bed without him, like he doesn’t without you.

You removed your earrings, placing them on the table before you slumped on the couch,

The voices in your head growing,

Is this wrong?

Why can’t they keep their noses out of my relationship decisions?

Does Joel feel that I'm way too young for him?

Is he embarrassed too?

The longer Joel took to come home, the louder the voices became,

Does Sarah get questioned about me and Joel?

Does Sarah still like me?

Does Joel still-

You heard the door unlock and you brought yourself up. Joel stumbled in, you knew he had a few drinks. Quickly you got up to hug him and to have him silence the noises in your head,

Too disappointed about your night, you didn’t notice the bandage on his knuckles, or the sour expressions he wore, as you moved your body to hug him,

His figure stiffened against you. His hands coming up to your arm as you shuddered under his touch,

“What’s wrong?” he muttered as he stroked your hair, putting aside his pain to try and heal yours.

You shook your head, not wanting to feed his insecurity, “party was a bit exhausting” you lied

“C’mon baby,” as he moved you both toward the couch, “ya wanna talk about it?”

You straddled his lap burying your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent of whiskey and cigarettes

His hands traced your back softly and you whimpered, you loved Joel so much.

You picked your head up to face Joel. He looked tired. Nevertheless, one of his hands cupped your face and instinctively, you placed a kiss on the inside of his wrist before intertwining your fingers with his, and that's when you felt the skin of bandage under your fingertips,

“What happened?” it was your turn to be concerned

He stayed quiet for a beat, both of you looking in between you, your intertwined hands but feeling miles away emotionally,

“Just a random cut, nothing serious” and it was his turn to lie,

That was the turning point of your relationship.

“C’mon let's go to bed,” Joel suggested,

The next few weeks went by the same. Everywhere you went, they talked shit. Sometimes you defended but other times you were tired of talking back knowing they won’t stop either way.

You noticed how Lace kept pushing Lock to you. Always calling him over when you had plans with her and then leaving quickly so you and Lock can spend some time alone. He was a nice guy, but you only saw him as a friend, nothing more, nothing less. And Joel knew it too.

But oh when he kept getting “with Lock” as your response to his “where ya at”, did he start to feel otherwise. Almost everyday at work he was defending his relationship with you, and after knowing you’re with Lock most of the time, he started believing the criticisms.

“Things alright between you two?” Tommy carefully asked Joel one day,

“Yeah, why?” Joel didn’t remove his gaze from the contract paper in his hand,

Tommy shrugged, “i don’t know, been seeing her with that Lock guy a lot these days so–”

“Look good together, don’t they?” another man chirped in, but as soon as he received a deathly glare from Joel he backed off immediately. But the words stuck with joel, look good together

That night when you clung to him, like you always do, he didn't reciprocate. The voices in his head were getting loud and you weren’t there to silence them.

“Where?” he snarled

It was just another rough night for the two of you. Joel had canceled plans with you because work buddies are insisting on game night , delaying it to the next week. Both of the times Lace and Snow had swung by. With Lace reciting her “you deserve better” mantra.

Earlier this week, Snow had asked you to go shopping for her vacation. And you couldn’t say no, given she had dropped her things just because you were depressed when Joel canceled the plans for the second time.

If he could, why couldn’t you?

“Shopping” you put another popcorn in your mouth as your eyes fixed on the movie.

You were upset. You were mad at him. And the whole week had passed without Joel noticing it. Maybe it was about time.

You felt his eyes on the back of your head. You wanted nothing more than to turn around and make up for the lost time. Clear all the distance that had somehow forged its way between two of you.

But you didn’t. You resisted. You wanted to check your and his limits

“Of course, and Lock is gonna be there” Joel scoffed, placing his hands on his hips where he stood at the back of the sofa you sat on.

That hit the button instead. You exhaled a shallow breath, not believing your ears,

“What is that supposed to mean?” you turned to face him, his typical annoyed stance in display for you; fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You know very well,” his eyes met yours for a brief second, before he moved to exit

To say you were furious was an understatement. You abandoned your popcorns and movie as you scurried away to chase him,

He faced the cabinets before he heard your angry stomping in the kitchen.

“What the fuck, Joel?” you barked

He just stood there, leaning against the counter. His arms folded against his chest as he glared back at you,

Frustration bubbled inside of you. Taking a step closer, you let the anger get the best of you,

“You fucking canceled on me for sake of your buddies,” you were fuming, “you didn’t even notice me being upset” you voice rose with every sentence, “and now you’re accusing me?!”

“Lower your fucking voice!” he roared causing you to shudder,

“You’re unbelievable, Miller” you back stepped to the door of the kitchen before you left

As soon as you stepped out of kitchen you spotted Sarah sitting on the sofa hugging her legs,

“You guys are fighting again?” she mumbled

Your heart shattered at her state. You were quick to sit by her side, engulfing her in your arms,

“Oh no, honey,” you kissed her hair, “it’s just- you know- we don’t always agree on the things” you caressed her hair

She sniffled, facing you, “so- so you’re not leaving, right?” her wet eyes shining with hope and that was not helping to your breaking heart,

Your throat tightened so you stuck with shaking your head ‘no’ and a tight smile

Few minutes had passed and Sarah was already asleep on your shoulder. You calmly woke her so she doesn’t hurt her neck in that position. Tucking her in the bed, you closed her door and were met with Joel.

He stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He jerked his head in the direction of your shared bedroom, asking you to join him, and so you did.

Once the door closed, he turned to you, grasping your small hands in his,

“I’m sorry” he croaked, “for everything,”

You looked up at him and gave him a sincere smile as you nodded, “let’s go to sleep,”

None of you talked about your feelings. None of you shared about the insecurities that you both had regarding each other. None of you reached out for the other to cuddle.

“I’ll wait outside, you can grab whatever you need, yeah?” Joel said as he digged his wallet for his card

You only nodded as taking the card and hopping out of his truck, rushing into the mart.

Joel lit a cigarette as he watched you from the driving seat. He knew this was all wrong. It was a lose-lose situation. He couldn’t be with you openly, scared of more rude comments towards you (he could manage the ones thrown at him) but still everyone was aware of your relationship and hence, bringing up the topic out of nowhere.

You, on the other hand, were embarrassed, feeling Joel didn’t want to be seen with you. You both had moved past the point of discussing your feelings and knee-deep in the mess

Once you returned, Joel tried to reach for your hand but you were quick to pull away. It was like a reflex and you almost regretted it. Almost.

He cleared his throat in an awkward way, “uh- you’re still up for Bill and Frank’s party tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but I’ll go there with,” you swallowed, too hard to push the words out of your mouth, “with Lace,”

Joel took a double look at you, “uh, any specific reason?” he asked trying his best to stay calm,

“Yeah, she wanted me there to help her with outfits and make up so i might as well leave with her,” you shrugged, nervously tugging on your nails.

“Okay,” he said lowly, almost as a whisper,

“Don’t make dinner tonight” Joel said a few hours after you both had got home,

“Why? Are you with your boys tonight?” No matter how much you tried to keep the anger at bay, somehow it slipped,

Joel sighed, as he walked to you, his eyes trained on you. But your gaze couldn't meet his. As if you were hiding something, like you were not honest, except that you were. You were just fed up with your fights with Joel. Fed up with not sharing thoughts like you used to.

“No, I'll get take-out on my way back,” he said. Your brows furrowed, “We’ll just relax and maybe watch a movie, your choice. How does that sound?” he explained his plans for the night,

You nodded, “okay, sounds good, but can we maybe dine out? There’s this pretty place-”

“Baby, I really want just the two of us, we can go next time, ‘kay?” he pressed his lips on your forehead,

You gave him a tight smile, “sure”

All you wanted was for him to love you openly. All he wanted was to keep you from any and every hurt even if it meant he had to avoid being seen together. If only you both spoke your feelings.

“Honestly, I think he’s not opening up to you because you won’t get it since you’re young, y’know?” Lace said as she fixed her dress, “Do you really think you’re the best match for him? Woman his age are dying to marry him,”

You tried to stop another flood of tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Your eyes were already swollen from the crying you had today at Lace’s because you were watching your relationship with Joel fall apart. It was all perfect when the world didn’t know. The bubble had bursted.

“You’re right,” you sighed,

Joel didn’t really prepare for his appearance as much as he did for the looks thrown his way when he moved with you. You and him didn’t know how to handle the criticisms and that had your relationship at stake.

He arrived at bill and frank’s and eagerly started to look for you. But you were nowhere to be found. He had texted you but there was no response from you. Were you even coming?

He met with his friends and like a habit, everyone asked about you.

He stepped on the front porch, desperately escaping from endless questions and trying to muster up excuses of your absence. Two shots in, he felt his brother hand on his shoulder, “heartbreak?” Tommy asked as he sipped his whiskey,

Joel only grunted in response, not really paying attention to his question, “so when did it happen?”

That had his attention, “what?”

“The breakup and that” Joel followed Tommy’s gaze.

You had just gotten out of the car and stumbled your way inside. Lock’ hand pressed to your lower back as he guided you inside the house. Lace quickly trailing behind you both, struggling with her own dress.

Joel’s lips parted in shock. How could you do this? What was happening? The liquor had started to dizzy his mind.

The look on Joel’s face was enough to let Tommy know that he was oblivious to the situation just like him.

“There’s someone I'd like you to meet,” Tommy said carefully, and convincingly.

Joel eyes took a few seconds before moving from the door from where you had just entered the house,

He just nodded in response, before he chugged the entire bottle in one go.

He was mad. He was disappointed. He was angry. But most importantly, he was hurt. But one thing about him, he was a hard person to go and confront. Why would he do that when he can do things he won’t remember the next morning?

The last sober thought was you. Then the rest was alcohol in his veins controlling his mind.

—-----

You left Lace’s apartment as you hurried to Lock' car.

“Hi, Lace is coming, told me to go,” you said as you greeted him,

Lace took solid 10 minutes before she appeared on the entrance door of the building. Those 10 minutes you listened to Lock talking about some girl he’s madly in love with and will ask her out tomorrow. She was a friend of your friend, she was nice. You were genuinely happy for him.

You were on your way when you checked your phone. You didn’t realize you had missed a text from Joel. You swiped to reply to him, telling him you were on your way. But Lace snatched the phone from you,

“Enough using phone for tonight,” she grinned

You instinctively chased her hand and turned to the backseat. Unknown to you, your dress had stuck in the door.

Rip.

You heard and felt your fabric tearing from your back. With your shocked expression, Lace was concerned,

“I think I ripped my dress from the back,” you said slowly, reaching your hand on your back and you felt your skin. “Oh my god, I just ripped my dress!” you cried,

“Is it something a needle and thread can fix?” Lock asked as he tried to calm the chaos you both had created,

Lace inspected the ripped part, “i think so, i can do it but where do we get the needle and thread?”

“Frank has it,” Lock informed,

Your face was contorted in worry, your phone long forgotten,

“Okay, Lock you cover her way up to the restroom, I’ll go get the things I need from Frank,” Lace ordered as you all got off the vehicle.

And so you all rushed in. Your mind was directed to; will Lace be able to fix my dress?

You didn’t greet anyone as you bolted toward the restroom. Lock stayed outside as you rushed inside. Lace quickly returned and fixed your dress.

“And all done!” she said excitedly

You turned your neck to the mirror to see that indeed she had done a good job.

Leaving the bathroom, you parted ways with Lace and Lock as you went out looking for Joel.

“Hey! Have you seen Joel?” you asked Bill,

“Why yes, he’s finally got some sense back,” he tilted his glass in Joel’s direction,

There stood Joel, no, there swayed Joel in the arms of a stranger. Joel’s arms linked loosely around her as her’s around his neck, pulling him closer,

“perfect match,” Bill added,

Your lips parted to say something but no words came out, “wh-” you began but were immediately cut by Bill as he clicked his tongue and shook his head,

“Don’t go ruining a good thing now, kid,”

You couldn't avert your gaze from the scene in front of you until it was blurred by your tears.

“Excuse me” your voice shook, as you turned away, tears spilling as you ran to the restroom again.

How bad you wished you didn’t leave the restroom, or that you left a little later until he detached himself from her.

Did he really fall out of love? Did he really let them dictate him? You wanted to go and confront but-

You broke down. Bad.

You didn’t mind your makeup, that you put on with precision, smudging. Your knees hit the bathroom floor as you cried your eyes out.

The ringing of the phone caused you to take a break. Taking out the phone more tears fell from your eyes as Joel’s name displayed on your screen.

The ringing ceased and a text followed a few minutes later,

Joel: Where are you?

You scoffed at his text. You wanted to go to him and scream at him. But you didn't want to give in to all the people who told you this was never gonna work. Sure your relationship had gone down the hill since last month. But was ending the relationship really better than running in a circle every other day? Loving Joel only in the boundaries of your house?

You wanted to go home, Joel’s house, and move out. This wasn’t going to work. You had decided. The thought of officially ending the relationship pulled new strings of tears from your eyes as you texted Lace about going home before you stuffed the phone in your purse.

Just like you had entered, keeping your gaze lowered, you left the exact same way. You heard the unmistaken sound of a voice calling your name but you couldn’t stop and turn. No, you kept moving.

You exited the main gate and walked on the side of the street. You were walking quickly, wanting to go away from him as fast as possible. You heard the familiar voice called you again,

“What is it, Joel?” you seethed as you turned around.

You looked horrible, you knew it but you couldn’t care less right now.

Joel eyes widened at your appearance,

“Jus’ wanted to ask, how long have you been with Lock?” he whispered as if even he was ashamed of asking the question. He looked down, prepared for any answer that you had to offer

Your heart dropped at his question, “what?” oh how bad you hoped you heard it wrong,

“Ya heard it,” he muttered, “i saw you both, ‘s okay, i understa-”

Before he could complete his sentence, you had walked up to him, staring deep in his eyes, “are you fucking kidding me right now?” your voice was low but hid a menace beneath it,

Joel stayed quiet, he looked at you but his eyes were empty.

“Are you serious, Joel?” your voice shook, all of your power was used up at keeping your tears from falling,

“How about you tell me about you dancing in someone else’s arms?” your voice rose and you pushed him back, “was that what you've been doing in my absence?!” you hit his chest, “tell me!” your voice wavered and once again the dam broke, “tell me Joel!”

The sides of your fist kept colliding with Joel’s hard chest as you let everything out, “tell me why were you so embarrassed of me? Of us?” joel stayed silent as he received your weak punches and watched the tears stain your face

“Tell me where did we go wrong?” you energy had drained before you slowly uttered the last question

“When did you stop loving me?” that was his last straw, as he held your wrist just as you were pulling away,

“Don’t” he said firmly, “anything but that”

“We’ve fallen apart,” you croaked, “Gonna take a miracle to save us this time-”

“I still love you,” he promised

You shook your head as your released your hands from his grip,

“Then tell me why didn’t I feel loved?” you whispered

Joel once again fell silent, “I-” he shook his head, wanting to wake up from the worst nightmare,

His throat tightened, he wanted to tell you that he wanted to protect you. But your outburst told him the only way you would’ve felt protected was if he held your hand in front of everyone.

He began, not knowing what to say but his mind screamed one thing,

Don't say goodbye, don't say goodbye

You wiped the tears from your face as you took a deep breath,

“Goodbye, Joel”

You turned and walked away as Joel stood still. The wind blew cold against his skin.

Did he throw away the best part of his life?

It’s alright, Just two hearts breakin’ even tonight

You’d go and get on with your life, he’ll get on with his’, broken hearts can’t call the cops, it’s a perfect crime.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

935 notes · View notes

guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years ago

Text

Elementary, Chapter Four

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x teacher!reader

chapter rating: E (18+ ONLY, oral (fem rec), unprotected piv, dirty talk??, unedited/unbeta’d)

word count: 4.3k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

“Alright, everybody. Please remember to fill out your reading log during the break,” you talked over a room full of distracted tweens excited for the upcoming Spring Break. “Am I talking to air?”

“I hear you,” Sarah answered your question as she approached your desk, her backpack slung over her shoulder. “And I wanted to apologize for last Friday. I was having a bad day and Jessie was making a big deal about me leaving the sleepover—“

“Sarah, sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize,” you assured with a kind smile. “Have you talked to Jessie?”

“Yeah, dad took me over to her house on Sunday night and we talked it out. I guess she was offended by me leaving, but I explained to her that I just get anxious sometimes and can’t—“ She sighed. “It just feels better being at home with my dad. I don’t have to try to be funny or cool or whatever.”

You smiled at the tenderness of Joel and Sarah’s bond.

“But anyways,” she continued. “My dad wanted me to ask if you were busy tonight—he still hasn’t gotten a new cellphone which, if you’re wondering, is why he’s having me act as the messenger.”

“Isn’t he coming to pick you up today?”

“No, him and Uncle Tommy are in San Antonio meeting with a developer or something like that,” she informed. “My grandma is picking me up.”

“Oh, well, you can tell your dad I’m free like always,” you chuckled and tried not to think about the fact that as today’s parking lot attendee, you’d have to come face to face with the mother of the man you’d been casually seeing for three weeks now. “Oh, and tell him he needs to get a new phone so you don’t have to play messenger anymore.”

“Trust me, we’ll probably be waiting years until he finally breaks down and gets himself one.” The two of you shared a laugh.

“In that case—“ You jotted your landline and cellphone number on a post-it note. “Here.”

“Miss? My mom wanted me to let you know that I won’t be doing any of my reading logs this week,” another student approached your desk and very sassily delivered his news. You chuckled out a scoff and fixed your attention on him while Sarah went back to her desk.

“Okay, Michael, why won’t you be doing your reading logs?” You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for his response.

“Because it’s Spring Break,” he defended.

“Yes, I’m aware. That’s why I didn’t assign any homework. All you need to do is keep reading at least a chapter a day of your book—“

“I don’t want to read my book. That’s basically homework.”

You gave him an incredulous look as you tried to gather what little patience remained in you after a long year of teaching fifth graders.

“No, Michael. Homework is what Mrs. Hill gave her students—a packet a day. What I’m asking if you is to do what you’re already supposed to be doing—reading a chapter a day of whatever book you want. That’s not homework, that’s just an activity.”

“Well, I’m not doing it.” He remained firm, mimicking your stance by crossing his arms over his chest.

The bell ringing interrupted whatever onslaught of frustration you were just about to bestow upon him, his smug smirk boiling your blood as he turned and shuffled out of class.

“Have a good break,” you called out to the rest of your students as they shuffled out of the classroom in a single file line.

“Hey,” Joel sighed out his greeting as he entered his mother and father’s ranch home on the outskirts of Austin. Sarah was sat in the living room on the floral loveseat covered in plastic while her grandfather, Paul, sat in his rocking chair fast asleep.

“How did it go?” Sarah offered him a smile as he rounded the corner of the loveseat to plop down beside her.

“Went alright,” he replied. “Got a good chunk of jobs lined up for me and the guys, so we’ll be good on work ‘til the end of the year.”

“That’s good!” She beamed, bringing a hesitant smile to her father’s face. Joel never liked to celebrate his successes—something he likely learned from his father. “Oh,” she tapped his arm as she remembered your conversation from earlier, quickly informing him about your lack of plans for tonight. “She also gave me her number to give to you.”

Joel watched as Sarah fished the note out of her pocket before handing over the crumpled up piece of paper.

“You think she’s home yet?” Joel checked his watch.

“Dunno,” she shrugged. “But grandma was talking about all of us going out for dinner tonight.”

“Oh, was she?” Joel looked disappointed by the sudden emergence of plans when he spent all day hoping that tonight would be spent just with you.

“Joel?” Mary, Joel’s mother, came walking down the stairs with a smile. “Bout time you came to see us.”

“I’m busy with the new company, ma, you know that,” he argued as he stood up to greet her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Busy with the company or with your new lady friend?” she teased with a grin. Joel whipped his eyes over to his daughter who already held her hands up in defense.

“My bad.”

Joel chuckled out a scoff before turning back to his mother. “It’s new.”

“And? That’s all you gotta say about her?”

“To you. For now.” Joel followed her into the kitchen, Sarah trailing shortly behind.

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Hunt her down and force her to look at your baby book?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he retorted with a mischievous smile.

“Joel Miller, I swear if you do not give me at least a summary of this woman—“

“Alright, alright,” Joel sighed and looked to Sarah who was beaming with amusement. “She’s Sarah’s teacher. We met at a parent/teacher conference. She’s…nice.”

“Nice?” Both women repeated the descriptor as if it was an insult.

“Dad, you’re basically in love. I’m sure you can find a better word than nice,” Sarah reasoned.

“She is nice. Everything else is private,” he argued.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out at dinner tonight,” his mother shrugged with a smirk. Joel turned wild in the eyes and shook his head.

“No, no, no. She ain’t—y’all aren’t—no.”

Sarah laughed at her dad’s fluster and looped her arm around his waist hug him. “It’ll be okay, pops. Just breathe.”

“Oh, to hell with that,” Joel shook his head again, turning to his mother. “I haven’t even taken her out for a real dinner yet, ma. I’m not invitin’ her out to deal with y’all.”

“Deal with? Son, we are as civilized as anybody else—“

“Ma, you got a plunger? I clogged the damn toilet!” Tommy shouted from upstairs and Joel gestured in his direction as though to prove his point.

“Well not here. We’re in the comfort of our own home,” she defended as she made her way out of the kitchen to help her son. “She’s comin’ tonight! Better go on and call her up.”

“Christ,” he sighed and stomped over to the landline, his scowl fixed on Sarah as he dialed the number. “If she never speaks to us again, it’s on you.”

“She’ll love us.”

Although it wasn’t what you were expecting for the night, Joel’s call to invite you out to dinner with his family was impossible to decline just due to how much you missed him. Even if you turned into a ball of nerves every time you had to meet “the parents”, it was worth it just to be in the same room with him, especially after the day you had.

At seven, Joel, Sarah, and Tommy came to pick you up, but for once it was you running late. You invited them inside to wait while you finished getting ready, handing Sarah the TV remote and watching as her and Tommy instantly started bickering over what to watch while Joel followed you into your bedroom.

“How is this the first time I’ve ever been in your room?” He found a seat on the foot of your bed while you sat at your vanity, finishing up on taming your hair.

“Because I’m old fashioned,” you turned back to give him a wink. “But also because I can’t seem to get you alone long enough to give you a proper tour.”

“I know,” he sighed and walked over to you, standing behind you. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, the warmth and softness of his lips curing something that had been aching inside of you since the last time he kissed you. “I made a deal with my mom. She watches Sarah this weekend, and I suck it up and allow you to meet my chaotic family.”

“Mm, so I get you all weekend is what you’re saying?” You smirked at him through the mirror.

“All. Damn. Weekend.” He kissed your neck as a promise, your eyes fluttering closed as you relished in his proximity. “No interruptions. Just me and you.”

“S-sounds good,” you stuttered through your haze of lust and Joel smiled against your skin, seemingly amused by his effect on you.

“You got chills,” he rasped, his fingertips trailing up and down your arm. “That all me?”

“Just wait until you see what else you do to me,” you purred back, earning a groan of desperation.

“You two done yet?” Tommy called out from the living room. “We got places to be.”

“Save that thought for after dinner,” Joel mumbled against your cheek as he gave you one more kiss.

Five or so minutes later and you were on your way to the restaurant, nerves now replacing the butterflies you felt in your stomach as you thought about what his parents would be like. If they were anything like Tommy, Sarah, and Joel, you had nothing to worry about, but it was the uncertainty that drove you mad.

“You alright?” Joel stayed back with you as you pretended to have forgotten something in the truck, Tommy and Sarah heading into the restaurant to meet up with Joel’s parents.

“Just nervous,” you shrugged with a soft smile. “Anything I should avoid bringing up?”

“Politics. My dad’s a big Republican, so,” he winced. “But my mom is about as liberal as they come, so at least there’s that.”

“So I should stick to talking to your mom, then,” you joked.

“Come on,” he nudged his head towards the restaurant and laced his fingers with yours. “I’ll be right there next to ya, and as soon as we’re done with dinner it’ll be just us all weekend.”

You took a deep breath of courage and gave him a cheeky but bashful smile, bringing a similar one to his own face.

“God, I just can’t help myself—“ Joel cupped your cheek and tilted your head up to meet him as he leaned in for a surprising kiss, your hand finding purchase on his wrist to ground yourself.

“Mm,” you hummed as you pulled away from him earlier than he would’ve liked. “Let’s not stall anymore. Don’t want your mom to think I’m a bad influence.”

“She knows me well enough to know I’m the bad influence, but alright,” he tugged you off towards the restaurant with your hand in his.

As the hostess guided you through the busy dining room, you leaned further into Joel. He didn’t seem to mind the clinginess, his hand letting go of yours so that he could slide an arm around your waist.

“There y’all are!” A stout woman you presumed to be Joel’s mother stood up from the table where the rest of the Millers were seated, a big, dimpled grin on her face that resembled Joel’s.

“Ma,” Joel introduced the two of you by name, his eyes fixed on you as you shook her hand and allowed her to seat you beside her rather than next to Joel like you’d hoped. You gave Joel a nervous look from across the table as he sat himself directly across from you beside his father.

“It is so nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Mary fixed her attention on you. “Joel’s been pretty tight lipped about ya, so why don’t you tell me a little about yourself.”

“Well,” you chuckled nervously, but Joel’s reassuring eyes from across the table helped calm the frenzy of anxiety coursing through your veins. “I’m a teacher, have been for a few years now but this is my second year in Austin.”

You found it surprisingly easy to talk to Mary, her warm smile and sense of humor similar to that of her children and granddaughter. You told her where you grew up, where you’d been before coming to Austin, about what you liked to do in your free time, but mostly you told her the story of how you and Joel came to be.

Across the table, his father continued to remain stern and silent, only mumbling to his boys or to Sarah every now and again to remind them to use their manners. He seemed like a tough egg to crack, and while you were up for the challenge eventually, earning his respect today seemed unlikely.

“Joel, you ever tell her about your singin’?” Tommy spoke up from down the table, his question bringing a blush to Joel’s face.

“Yeah, I mentioned it.” He looked over to you and cracked the most subtle of smirks, no doubt remembering what occurred shortly after.

“Well, you gonna sing for her?” Mary asked with mischief in her tone, bringing an amused smile to your face.

“Not here,” he sassed, tilting his head at her mockingly.

“Why not here?” You prodded with a smirk, your foot finding his calf beneath the table. Joel gave you a chuckle and shook his head. “Oh, come on. Please?”

“Ya know, I pride myself on my ability to not cave into peer pressure,” he retorted with a quirked eyebrow, daring you to challenge him. You bit your lip and looked down at your plate, too flustered by everything him to look him in the eyes—especially given the current company.

“So, Sarah, how are you likin’ the whole dad datin’ your teacher thing?” Tommy asked, and the question earned the attention of the entire table.

“I don’t mind it,” she shrugged. “Maybe I would if it was Mrs. Clarkson from last year.”

“God,” Joel shook his head at the mere idea. “That woman terrified me and I’m a grown man.”

“Oh,” Sarah called your name. “Did you tell dad about Michael?”

“Michael? Who’s…uh, who’s Michael?” Joel’s jealousy was as clear as day, bringing amused grins to almost everyone’s faces aside from the ever stoic Mr. Miller.

“Michael is my student,” you clarified and eased his concern. “A shitty student at that.”

“Oh yeah?” Tommy asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, he’s—well, I guess I probably shouldn’t be saying this around you, Sarah.”

“I promise I won’t talk about it,” she replied earnestly and you easily caved.

“He is just the absolute worst. And his parents are even shittier,” you lamented with a laugh. “Today he came up to me while Sarah and I were talking at the end of class, and flat out told me that he wasn’t going to be doing the reading log during the break because his mom said so.”

“Why doesn’t he just fake it like everybody else?” Tommy chimed in but quickly received an elbow from his niece.

“I don’t fake my reading logs,” she corrected.

“Yeah…right.” He gave her a sarcastic nod and turned back to you. “I’m just speaking from experience. I never did any of that shit and I turned out…well, I turned out decent.”

“Yeah. Maybe I am being too demanding,” you shrugged, turning back to your plate.

“No,” Joel was quick to interject. “Don’t listen to Tommy—he couldn’t even get into community college. You’re the one who went to school for six years to do this. You know what you’re doin’, that kid’s just a prick.”

You couldn’t help but fall in love with him a little bit as he stood up for you, his foot pressed to yours beneath the table acting as a sort of promise that he’d always be here to do this—to remind you of your worth.

“Thank you,” you mouthed just to him. “Anyways, it’s his loss—and yours too, Tommy. Reading is fun.”

Tommy mimicked your smile and chuckled. “I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

“Alright, don’t give your grandma a hard time,” Joel ordered Sarah as he hugged her goodbye in the driveway outside your house.

You watched the scene from the doorway, smiling at the way he swayed her and kissed the top of her head. If only all little girls could grow up with a father like Joel—not flawless, but as close to it as a man could get. There was no denying his love for her and vice versa, and the fact that you were being let into this beautiful family felt like nothing less than an honor.

“Alright, go on,” he ruffled the top of her hair with a playful grin. “I love ya, and I’ll see you Sunday night, alright?”

“Love you too,” she gave him one more hug before turning to you standing up the walkway. With a wave, she wished you goodbye as well, your smile widening at the gesture. “See you!”

“See ya, Sarah!”

Joel met you by the front door and watched Tommy and Sarah pull out of your driveway before he turned to you with an anticipatory grin.

“Well, just us now,” he husked, playfulness thick in his southern drawl.

“Whatever will we do?” you teased, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging him closer.

Joel cradled your cheek and jaw with both hands as he leaned down to kiss you, both of you still wearing your grins through it. Walking you backwards into the house, you giggled into his mouth as you nearly stumbled over before he caught you.

“Clumsy,” he accused in a rasp.

“Your fault,” you countered and he laughed against you.

Joel’s hands traveled to your hips to keep you flush against him as he kicked the front door shut, your smiles fading as the kiss deepened into something so filthy even the humor of the almost-fall couldn’t penetrate it.

“God,” he groaned against your lips as he continued walking you through the living room to your bedroom. “I want you so bad, baby girl. Fuck.”

“Remember what we were talking about earlier?” you purred against his jaw as your kisses trailed down to his neck, Joel’s body pinning you against your open bedroom door. He hummed against you in confirmation and you smiled, taking one of his hands off your waist to guide it beneath the linen of your dress, his breath ragged as his fingertip grazed over your thighs until they reached the soaked lace of your panties. “This is what you do to me, Joel.”

“Jesus fuckin—baby, I need you,” he whimpered and sunk to the floor in front of you, his dark and dreamy eyes peering up at you for permission as he lifted the hem of your dress up. “Can I taste you?”

“God, you never have to ask,” you moaned back, taking the fabric bunched in his hands and holding it for him. Joel’s eyes dropped from yours down to the image right in front of him, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip at the sight of your white lace thong.

“You’re gonna make me lose my mind, baby,” he groaned again, his hands now running up and down the outside of your thighs.

The anticipation could have killed you, your chest heaving and skin prickling with chills from the simple sensation of his breath fanning over the wet spot on your panties, the lust in his eyes. Combing your fingers through his hair, you attempted to silently urge him on and he seemed to pick up on it, his hands sliding back up to your hips to hook into the tiny band of your underwear and slip them down your legs until they were kicked off.

“Baby,” he cooed as you draped one of your knees over his broad shoulders to open yourself up to him, his mouth watering at the sight. “I’m never gonna wanna do anythin’ else but stay right—“ He placed a kiss to your mound and your entire body jerked. “Here.”

His tongue swiped through your folds and you melted against the door behind you, your fingers gripping his hair now as you struggled to stay upright. Joel practically growled at your taste, his hands gripping your thighs as if he was holding on for dear life.

“Fuck,” you moaned as he tensed his tongue to circle your swollen bud until your arousal started to drip down your thighs. “That’s so good.”

Your praise earned you another growl, his tongue now flicking and circling, lapping and sucking against you until your thighs were shaking from the pressure building in your lower stomach.

“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, baby girl.” He sucked your clit and made you cry out his name. “Yeah, just like that. Keep sayin’ my name, baby. Let everyone know.”

“Joel, fuck!” Your orgasm was imminent, the tingling in your thighs that traveled down to your toes and back up your spine fogging any sense of coherency you may have once had in his presence. “I—fuck, I—“

“I know, baby. Can taste it.” He shook his head and flattened his tongue against your clit, his eyes meeting with yours. You wanted to cry, but the pleasure you were feeling was too consuming. The only thing you could do as Joel sucked your now throbbing bud into his mouth was to cry out his name like a prayer—some sort of wicked salvation that beat out any other holier counterpart. “Come on, baby. Cum on my tongue. Wanna taste it…every fuckin’ drop—“

“Fuck!” You crumpled to the ground, your back sliding against the door until you were kneeling with him on the floor, your body shuddering as you rode out the waves of your euphoria.

Joel was quick to act, guiding you down onto your back while you were still lost in bliss. He kissed your face as if you were his most prized possession, his hands worshipping the curves of your still-clothed body.

“Need you, baby,” he whispered against your jaw as he placed a love bite there, your head nodding to give him consent to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to you after that mind blowing climax he just gave you.

You only heard the clinking of his belt buckle before feeling his cock stretch you open, a choked cry slipping from your lips in time with Joel’s wanton groan. You peeled your eyes open and looked down at the place you were joined, delighting in the fact that neither of you were undressed, the neediness of the moment turning you both feral.

“God damn,” he groaned and let his head hang as he stilled himself deep inside of you after only a few thrusts. “About to embarrass myself. You feel too fuckin’ good, baby.”

“Don’t worry about lasting long,” you stroked his beard. “I just wanna feel you.”

“God, I—” He choked on his words and leaned over your body, propping himself up by his elbows on either side of your head. You wrapped your legs around his waist and dug your heels into his jean-clad ass to urge him on, desperate to feel him spill inside of you.

“Want you to cum for me,” you moaned, pressing kisses into the side of his face as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. “Cum inside me—“

“Fuck,” he shouted as his cock thrust into you faster and deeper, your wetness squelching around him and filling the room along with both of your ragged moans. “I’m gonna—fuck, baby. You sure?”

“I’m on birth control, it’s okay,” you promised. Joel lifted his head to look into your eyes, his face scrunched up in something akin to agony but you were sure it couldn’t have been further from it.

“Gonna fill you up, beautiful,” he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. “Gonna have you dripping for me.”

“Yes!” His cock was hitting something inside of you that was making you see stars, your mind going back to that pleasure-dumb state you’d just been lost in, and before you had time to warn him, your walls fluttered in time with his cock spilling inside of you. “I’m coming, Joel, fuck!”

“Me too, baby,” he choked out through a string of profanity and moans. “Fuck, so fuckin’—you’re perfect.”

The two of you stayed there for a while, both of you turned into puddles of post-climactic bliss as you laid in each other’s arms. Joel hissed as he pulled out and rolled over onto the carpet beside you, both of you turning your heads to look at each other with wide, almost childlike grins.

“Be my girlfriend?” Joel choked out, nerves thick in his shaky voice. You laid there speechless for a moment, unsure of how to tell him that ever since you met him you’d been dreaming of the day those words would leave his lips. So, you kept it simple, a smile gracing your face as you reached over to hold his face.

“I would love to.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fic #joel miller reader insert #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #tlou joel #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #elementary

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bullet-prooflove · 4 months ago

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Making Memories: Angel Reyes x Reader (feat: EZ Reyes, Felipe Reyes)

Tagging: @witches-unruly-heart @fleureeee @keyweegirlie @infinity-mars @danzer8705

Secret - You keep a secret from Angel.

Traditions - You and Angel make your own traditions this Christmas.

Home - Felipe knows your pregnant.

Angel’s worried, he’s worried because you haven’t spoken a word since the two of you have gotten home from the hospital and Angel doesn’t know how to fix it. He doesn’t know what you need, how to help you, he doesn’t even know how to help himself because that grief you’re feeling, he’s feeling it too.

It’s an ache in his chest, an acute pain that throbs through his entire body as he looks at you, curled up on the couch, your gaze fixated on the TV. You’re not watching the movie that Felipe’s left on, not really. Your gaze is distant, you knees tucked up underneath you. He wants to reach out and touch you but you feel so far away right now.

You don’t acknowledge him when he puts the mug of tea down on the end table alongside of you, not even when he takes up residence on the couch beside you, his palms pressed between his knees.

“Say something.” He pleads. “Please Lila…”

“I feel so empty.” You say softly, your eyes focused on the screen as your palm comes to rest on the space your son used to reside. “One minute he was there and the next…”

You’d miscarried tonight.

You’d been pregnant with his son Antonio for almost five months before he was snatched away from you. The bleeding had started a couple of hours ago, you’d known immediately that something was wrong, it was at the hospital they confirmed it. Your beautiful boy was gone.

“I can’t do this again.” You whisper, shaking your head. “I don’t want another baby.”

“We don’t have to.” Angel murmurs as he wraps his arms around you and gathers you up close. “This little family we have right now, I promise you, it’s enough.”

***

You have a memory quilt, it’s one that your Grandmother sewed during the final months of her life. It’s draped at the bottom of the bed you share with Angel for the colder nights you have in Santo Padre. It’s made of different fabrics, aspects of your history she’d collected throughout the years. You’d been thinking of making one for Valeria out of the baby clothes she was quickly growing out, you’d planned to do the same for baby Antonio after he was born.

It's past midnight when Felipe finds Angel in the garage, moving boxes of junk around. You’ve been asleep for hours at this point, in the chair in Valeria’s bedroom. You sleep there a lot recently, dozing off as you watch the raise and fall of her chest.

“Angel.” Felipe says, his voice gruff as he studies the chaos of the garage. His son is standing in the midst of it all, wearing a white wifebeater and black basketball shorts. His hair is ruffled, sticking up in all directions. “Angel what are you doing?”

“I need mom’s sewing machine.” He tells Felipe as he moves another box out of the way. “There’s something I need to do.”

“You need the sewing machine? At midnight?” Felipe questions and Angel sighs before turning to face his father.

“Lila is struggling.” He tells his father. “She feels like a part of her is missing, she doesn’t know how to move on and I think I have a way to help with that, I just…”

He trails off, expecting reproach.

“You need to find the sewing machine.” Felipe says instead as he steps into the garage and begins to shift some boxes. “The last time I saw it, it was over here.”

***

The problem they discover is that neither of them know how to sew. Angel thought it would be a plug and play situation and Felipe thought because he’s watched his wife do it so many times, he’d be able to do the same thing. The truth is it’s a lot more complicated than either of them realised.

It’s EZ that comes to the rescue, EZ the boy scout, EZ who spent eight years in prison mending orange jumpsuits and sewing new ones as part of his ‘rehabilitation’.

The three of them fall into an easy rhythm. Felipe and Angel cut out the shapes, organising them whilst EZ uses the sewing machine to bind the pieces together. You’re up in Yuma at the moment, helping Manny set up the new pot farm. Angel thinks some time away will be good for you, that it’ll give you some space to work through your feelings.

“This looks like your old sheets.” EZ remarks, picking up a scrap of fabric during a break from the sewing machine.

Filipe’s making them coffee while Angel cradles his daughter Valeria to his chest, feeding her with a bottle.

“It is.” Angel tells him, wiping the spit up from around his daughter’s mouth with a towel. “This whole things a memory blanket. Valeria’s baby grows, Antonio’s things, the first time we…”

EZ drops the plaid fabric and Angel rolls his eyes.

“I’ve washed them since them.”

It takes them three days to finish the quilt. They work diligently, putting the whole thing together and when they’re done Angel can’t quite believe what they’ve managed to accomplish. It’s a patchwork of your relationship, your family. There’s pieces of him and the kids, but there’s swatches of Felipe, and EZ too. They’ve even managed to incorporate a shirt of his mother’s into the design.

“That looks good right?” He asks the other men as he holds it up for them to see. “I mean we did a great job?”

“Yea.” Felipe says, his voice a little rough because that’s his family right there, laid out on that quilt. “I think Lila’s going to love it.”

***

You’re tired when you get home that night, bone achingly so. Angel can see it as he takes your bag from you at the door. You smell like kush when he holds you and it takes him back to the early days, before Valeria, when the two of you were a little wild. He lets you get settled on the couch before he brings out the quilt. He doesn’t say anything, he just drapes it across your lap before he sits down alongside of you and gathers you close.

Your finger run over the fabrics, Valeria’s baby clothes, Antonio’s sleepsuit, your fingers come to linger on the plaid before you tilt your head towards him and say.

“Angel, did you make me a fuck quilt?”

You laugh then and it’s a rich, lovely sound that resonates through his entire being. It’s been a while since he’s heard that noise and he knows in that moment that despite the tragedy you’ve suffered, the two of you, you’re going to be alright.

Love Angel? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #mayans

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esmedelacroix · 9 months ago

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Romeo e Giulietta[a mafia love story] pt.1

mafioso!miguel x f!mafioso!reader 🂱

cw: suggestive

first part | miguel masterlist

prev ←→ next

The prevailing belief was that once Antonio Romano was too old, the Romano family's dominion over the Italian Mafia would end. Although he had a daughter, his wife had died during childbirth, so he had no son to take over. His daughter didn't take 'no' for an answer when it came to taking over the Mafia. With extensive training, she finally became the leader of the Mafia after her father's retirement...

—

You're the most powerful woman in all of Italy. Everyone assumed you couldn't be as good of a Mafioso as your father. But, they were so wrong; you are pretty reckless and never have a plan. But your carefree attitude only added more fun to your line of work.

You have a few rules in your familia. Never go out unarmed. Never be transparent about your affiliation. Don't let others read you. Blood is thicker than water. Never trust the O'Haras.

Another rule that could easily be added is: don't ever mention the head of the O'Hara Family Mafia, Miguel O'Hara. You hate each other so much, but anyone would think that, right? Your family feud dates back centuries, it's so old that no one really remembers why you're supposed to hate each other in the first place. But that doesn't matter because you do. Anytime your families have to meet to make a negotiation, you would always get into heated arguments with one another and request privacy.

When you were in private, you would argue even more. Your bodyguards would hear vases and glasses shatter onto the floor. They wondered how fostering so much hate for a single person was possible.

If only they knew what was happening in there...

Miguel would slide everything off the table to place you on it as he trailed wet hot kisses down your neck, leaving marks in areas only the two of you could see. If only they knew how hard you tried to stay quiet when Miguel had your legs spread across the table. You would resort to pulling at tufts of his hair as he feasted between your legs.

No one would ever really know the true nature of the intimate looks you exchanged when no one was looking, and they would most certainly never know that when Miguel claimed to be bringing women home from the club, it was really their biggest competitor in the Italian mafia scene in his room.

But you hate each other so much...

—

You woke up to the sun beaming through the floor-to-ceiling window that gave a beautiful view of the city. You had gotten so used to waking up in Miguel's bed. That morning you had a breakfast with your father that started two hours ago. You had to hurry and sneak out. You slowly got out of bed, trying not to wake him. Your attempts were useless, though, because, in a matter of seconds, you felt his big warm hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back onto the bed with your back flush against his chest.

"Per favore[please], Miguel, I have a hectic morning," she said as she removed his hands from around her waist and got out of bed to change back into her clothes.

His lazy eyes watched you as you walked around the room naked, gathering all your clothes from the night before putting your pants on. He was mesmerized by everything you did, even when you've been together for eight years.

He slowly crept behind you when you were about to put your blouse on and buried his head in the crook of your neck.

"Can you just stay for five more minutes? What are you so busy doing today?" he asked as he rested his head on your shoulder, his voice still raspy; if you had no self-control, you would have folded from his voice alone.

"Well, I'm too busy kicking your ass all day as usual," you replied as you put your earrings on, smiling at him through the mirror. He rolled his eyes playfully, accepting defeat.

"Please, baby, just five minutes," he said lowly in her ear, knowing the effect he had on you. He slowly started to trail kisses down your neck. You leaned into him and hummed in pleasure, tilting your head back into his shoulder to give more access to your neck. You heard your phone buzz snapping you out of the trance he put you in.

"Mio amato[My love], seriously, I have to go, so help me sneak out of here," you said eagerly.

"Yes, ma'am," he sighed as he looked around the hallway to confirm that no one would see you; but he was always armed, just in case.

You successfully snuck to the back door without running into anyone. You draped your arms around the nape of Miguel's neck and kissed him.

"Will I be seeing you at the charity event tonight?" you asked hopefully.

"Of course, sweet stuff; now get out of here," he joked. You rolled your eyes and blew him a kiss. The moment you turned away, he landed a firm smack on your ass, causing you to yelp, turn around and shake your head at him.

"Watch it," she warned playfully before disappearing into the streets.

—

You opened your front door hoping that your father would be off at the range or playing polo with friends despite you missing breakfast plans.

"Giulietta Bianca Romano," you heard your father's stern voice call from the living room couch. you were almost fully up the stairs when he caught you trying to sneak back in. Shit.

. . .

→ next part

taglist: @dei-drei @starrygetou @decentsoupperson

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itsharleystuff · 1 year ago

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↳ II. 𝘍𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘝𝘖𝘐𝘋

Read part one here.

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!fem reader (no outbreak au).

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.6k (once again, I’m sorry)

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after your steamy encounter with Joel during your homecoming party, things between you have been stagnant. Although, fate seems to be on your side when both Sarah and your dad have to leave town for a short while.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, p in v sex, Joel hits it from behind, blowjobs, some teasing, a bit of spanking, pet names (darling, sweetheart, honey), unprotected sex (pls do not attempt), cum eating, taking nsfw photos, Joel tries to be dom but fails, age gap (reader is twenty four, Joel is late forties), reader is kind of a brat, fluff and feelings (yes, this is a warning), alcohol consumption, brief mention of family death. Barely edited, sorryyy. No use of y/n.

—A/N: this can be read as a stand-alone but I suggest reading the previous part for a better understanding. Btw, there’s a couple of Easter eggs from the game in this! Also— I tried making a moodboard and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I’ll probably stick to gifs in the future, lol.

“I like Indiana Jones," you babble, taking a sip from your coffee without looking at anyone in specific. "I was twelve and in love with Harrison Ford..."

"Okay, so that's one movie we're definitely not going to watch." Sarah chimes in, lazily chewing on her scrambled eggs. "How do you feel about Robert Pattinson?"

"That depends," you reply, moving your head side to side in a contemplative manner, "are we talking twilight or Harry Potter?"

You hear your dad snort on the other side of the table and see Joel chuckling beside him. Sarah crosses both arms over her chest and raises a brow at them. “What's so funny?"

"Nothing," your dad clears his throat and side-eyes his friend. "Just thought you two were a bit old for those crappy vampire movies. Maybe watch-"

"Forgive me, but I don't think it's a good idea to take recommendations from either of you," you cut him off, leaning back on your chair. "You're both obsessed with die hard, think The Godfather is incredibly complex and in your spare time watch construction programs. We'll be fine on our own."

"Touché..."

It's been three weeks since your homecoming party, and ever since then it has become a habit to have breakfast together every weekend. Today, Saturday, it was the Miller's turn to cook, which consequently had you and your father sitting at their table. As of now, you and Sarah were discussing your movie night, which had to be postponed due to her road-trip to San Antonio— apparently, she and her friend Ellie were going to visit some college campuses there.

It's also been three weeks since that little, hot encounter you and Joel had in your kitchen. And, contrary to your better judgement, both of you were more than eager to spend some extra time alone. Things since then had been uneasy, specially when being surrounded by others; always worried that someone might notice those stolen looks you'd share or sense the palpable tension that rose when you would stand too close to each other.

You try not to think about it. Except when you do. A swirl of memories would come flooding your mind in the most inappropriate moments, creating that heat that made you remember exactly how his fingers felt inside you, his tongue between your folds, the sloppy kisses and that feral, hungry look in his eyes while eating you out, touching you like you were the most precious thing on earth.

"How about pride and prejudice?" the girl wonders, standing up to clean her dishes and snapping you back to reality.

"Shit, I love period dramas!" your dad shoots you a reproachful glare at your language, but you chose to ignore it. "As a matter of fact, most of my designs are inspired by the Victorian and regency eras."

"Oh, yeah," Sarah recalls, "I remember I read about it in one of your blogs. Dad showed it to me, by the way..." Joel clears his throat loudly, making her giggle.

Although she had mentioned it before, it was still kind of weird that he acknowledged your work. At first you thought it was merely because he wanted to connect with you somehow, but lately he'd been asking if he could see your new sketches and would let you borrow some old magazines he had around the house. Your best friend, Sophie, mentioned he might've been trying to show his interest in you subconsciously. And she was that one psychic friend who believed in zodiac signs and angel numbers, so you decided to believe her.

In that moment, your dad receives an incoming call on his cellphone; he excuses himself and heads to the living room. Your eyes lock with Joel's, and the fact that he was uninhibitedly staring back at you drew a smug smile on your face.

"Are you interested in fashion, Mr. Miller?" he sulks out a dry 'no', but you could see him fidget with his watch nervously. "Pity. I thought maybe you could model some of my male designs."

Sarah genuinely cracks up at your comment, slapping one hand on the table. "You want dad to pose for you? Seriously?"

"Why not? I brought my Polaroid camera, I can get some very nice shots." You were partially joking, but deep down you just wanted to see how he'd react.

"I mean, I know dad's got his charm with women, or so they keep saying-"

"No way anyone says that," he rambles.

"But the idea of him modeling is probably the funniest thing I've ever heard."

The fact was that you didn't want to take pictures of him so anyone else could see them. You wanted them exclusively for yourself. A couple of naughty Polaroids to keep around for whenever you were aching for him —which has been nearly every fucking night since your arrival—.

"It was a silly idea," you finally agree, shrugging. Joel stands to take his things to the sink. "Do you really have to leave for the weekend? You're like, my only friend here."

"Uh, about that..." she leans in towards you and you can practically smell a scheme on her. "Would you be mad if I gave your number to someone?"

You can quite literally feel the man standing behind you tense up. "Huh?"

"Yeah, like... To a guy." She moves in her place, but there's still no answer from you. "He's my English teacher. His name is Will and he's super smart, young, really funny and very handsome, I might add. I believe he can be your new male model." Sarah adds that last bit with a grin.

When you turn your head to see Joel, there was a deep scowl etching on his face, his body remaining still as a stone.

"I don't know... As friends, maybe." You weren't sure why, but the idea of meeting anyone new didn't really sound appealing.

She opened her mouth to say something but before she could actually do so, your dad walked in again. He appeared upset, gesturing nonsense and muttering impassively.

"What's wrong?" your tone comes out concerned.

"I have a meeting in Boston," he sighed, resting a hand on your shoulder apologetically. "Apparently it's urgent and I have to catch the next flight if I want to be there by nightfall."

"Oh, don't worry," you smile at him warmly. "I understand. Besides, I'm an adult. I can manage a weekend by myself."

He nods, still seemingly aloof. "I know but- I just wanted to spend some more time with you."

And of course you wanted that too, but saying it out loud could literally bring him to quit his job. He was always very extreme when it came down to you.

"What time d’you leave?" his friend asks him.

"Half past four. Why?"

"I can drop Sarah off at Ellie's and then drive you to the airport, if you'd like." Such a caring friend, Joel Miller. So selfless. Helping your dad out, attending his daughter's every special need...

"Yeah, thanks a lot, man. Take care of my little girl while I'm away."

You see his eyes gleam with a mix of unknown emotions, "Will do."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The last few days had been no less than torment for Joel. Each moment that went by in which he didn't get a chance to be near you had him losing his mind. Badly. And it wasn't necessarily a physical thing— not always, at least.

Every morning, he would wake up and go to work, knowing for certain that when he comes back home he'll find you hanging around with Sarah or sitting out on your porch with a sketching notebook on your lap.

He liked to guess what you'd be doing.

Would you be playing board games with his daughter? Watching a movie or baking desserts? Maybe you were thrift shopping with your dad or simply going to the mall. And later on, when he finally gets to see you again, you'd tell him all about it.

Joel also liked to imagine what kind of clothes you'd be wearing. One thing he noticed is that you never stick to one particular style or aesthetic. One day you could be wearing pastel sundresses with ribbons in your hair; the next one could be long, black skirts paired with basic tank tops and multiple necklaces, or even something more extravagant, depending on your mood.

Seeing you was an experience— one that he could never get tired of. It's like every time he sets his eyes on you there's a certain color palette that changes constantly, or the feeling of gathering all your favorite songs into one playlist and then hitting the shuffle button. He never knows what to expect. Hence why he had given up on trying to relate you to the silly things around; like seasons, animals, artists or foods. Instead, he started associating you with feelings.

You were creative, unique and incredibly fearless. In a way, you made him feel uneasy, excited, thrilled, confident and many more emotions at the same time. If he had to describe you in one word, he'd say evoking.

Oh, how you pestered his brain.

He hated how much he thought about you, and how little guilt he felt from it.

Right now he was sitting on the drivers seat of his truck, waiting at the airport's parking lot. You asked him if you could walk your dad to his corresponding gate and he agreed. The downside: it had started to rain, probably not too bad for your dad's flight to be delayed but enough for your clothes to get soaked on your way back.

"Shit, I'm sorry," you muttered, shutting the passenger's door behind you. “The seats are gonna get all wet..."

"Here," Joel takes off his jacket to place it over your shoulders.

It feels warm and it smells like him, "Thanks."

He starts the car without saying anything else, keeping his eyes glued to the road. You, on the other hand, could not stop staring at him. Now that no one else was around, there was no shame in admiring his side profile, the way his muscles flexed and his hands grasped the wheel. There was something inherently attractive about men driving, but- Jesus... This image had your mind roaming around dark places.

Suddenly, realization sinks in— you're alone.

Alone with him.

"I, uh..." he taps the wheel with his thumb, still avoiding your gaze. "I wanted to take you out for dinner. The weather kinda ruined it."

The corners of your mouth hitch up in a silly smile. "Too bad. I really didn't want to be alone tonight."

Joel hums, appearing somewhat distraught. In reality, he was fighting for his life. The clothes you chose to wear today were not fitted for the rain; denim mini-skirt, high pair of boots and a white top that complimented your upper body. He tried not to look at the raindrops rolling down your thighs or note how transparent your shirt has become, forcing himself to stare at your hands and the many rings that decorated your fingers, seeing there the one he gifted you.

"How about you come over to my place?" you suggest, trying to catch his attention. "I'll need a shower and a change of clothes but... Maybe we can do something afterwards."

His tongue darts out to lick his lips, still avoiding your gaze, "Like what?"

This time your voice goes lower, a smirk spreads across your face and something in your eyes flickers; a darker, sensual spark.

"Oh, you know..." your hand carefully comes to rest on his knee. His thigh tenses but he doesn't say or do anything to push you away. "Whatever you want."

He swallows hard, feeling the pads of your fingers run circles on his leg, your nails mildly scratching over the jeans in a way that raises goosebumps on his skin and eases his nerves.

"I've got a better idea," he says, keeping his tone calm —barely—. "Why don't you come to my house instead?"

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Sure, but- what about my clothes?"

And then he smiles cockily, as if this had been his plan all along, "Wear mine."

Well, there was absolutely no way you were going to turn him down. With a bit more boldness, you slide your hand a few inches up his inner thigh, still rubbing soothing patterns. His jaw clenched, but remained silent and apparently unbothered.

"Joel?" his name rolled off your tongue sweetly, in a way only you knew how to. He uttered a 'hm?' in retort. "Did you miss me?"

"I've seen you nearly every day," he answers playfully.

You laugh, stopping your movements and simply resting your palm there. "So... No?"

"Didn't say that, darlin'." The truck suddenly stops at a red light as he exhales heavily, giving in to you at last. "But I'll let you guess."

A push and pull game, like a cat chasing a mouse. Your smirk widens. "I don't think so. Not as much as I have."

His eyes scan your body from head to toe, the way you sit with your legs slightly parted, back laying flat against the seat and face turned towards him with heated cheeks and low gaze. Unexpectedly, your hand draws back from his lap as you start looking through your purse and a frown forms on his face, baffled by the loss of contact.

"Which is why..." you take the Polaroid camera out and see a whole shift in his eyes, like he's about to burst in laughter. "I brought this."

"No," despite his categorical denial, you still held the object up.

"You have a green light," he curses under his breath and you hold back a chuckle. "Just let me have one, please."

He sighs in defeat, "Why'd you want that?"

The rain had started to settle down but the air was still pretty cold, all that could be heard besides your own voices being the drops that crashed against the car.

"Cause you're handsome," he rolls his eyes sarcastically. "And I like you."

Hell, you were always so straightforward. It made his heart jump inside his chest, wondering if it was gonna burst out.

"You won't like me as much once you meet that Will dude," Joel prattles through gritted teeth, remembering his daughter's suggestion from earlier.

"The guy Sarah mentioned?" your brows furrow subtly. "Why? What's up with him?"

He yanks his head to the side, glancing over at you for a second, "Nothin'. Just thinkin' out loud." In spite of your puzzled expression, he decides to grant your wish. "I'll let ya' take it. But only if I get one in return."

Your lips purse in a smile, "As many as you like, Miller."

He doesn't say anything in response, but his grin doesn’t fade either and you managed to capture it on paper. The image slowly started to become visible and your first thought was how well it captured the whole 'Joel Miller' essence. It was a simple photo of him driving with one hand on the wheel and the other arm thrown lazily over the backseat. That denim shirt hugged his arms exquisitely, the rolled-up sleeves adding to his appeal. He was looking at you when it was taken, so you could see more than half his face— and the way he was grinning, you couldn't help but think he appeared so much younger when he did that. The entire thing felt so much like him: snuggly, blue, genuine and you absolutely loved it.

"There," you show it to him as he started to pull over. "Isn't it nice?"

"Just keep it to yourself, aight?" the man grumbles.

"F'course," with a spark of joy, you slide the photo inside your wallet. "Wouldn't want anyone else peeking at that gorgeous smile of yours. That's a treasure of my own."

"Shut up-" he rumbled, turning his face the other way and opening the door, seemingly flustered. And out of all the amazing things you've accomplished in your life, making this rugged looking man blush was probably your greatest pride.

When he helps you out of the car, holding your hand firmly and cleaving to your waist; you wanted nothing more than to kiss him under the pouring rain, wildly and unhinged, just like last time. But this particular spot possibly had too many curious eyes of which you were unaware of. He obviously doesn't need to guide you through his house, since you already know nearly every corner of it, except for one. His bedroom. And apparently, that's the precise location he's taking you to.

"Please excuse the mess," he says, placing one hand on the door handle, "I haven't had a woman in here for ages, so I'm afraid I probably won't live up to your expectations."

"Joel," you snort, "it's been a decade and a half since you last dated anyone. Trust me, my expectations are pretty low."

He scowls, squinting both eyes. "You didn't have to say it like that..."

It's honestly better than you thought. His bed is nicely done, brown bedsheets striking as warm and welcoming; the walls were painted a pretty, light shade of blue that matched the grayish curtains on the left. The drawers in front of his windows had a bunch of stuff scattered on top of them: a CD player along with a few music discs, some papers, a cap and a pair of reading glasses, batteries, one screwdriver and a framed picture of him and Sarah at the beach. Meanwhile, the nightstand simply had one lamp and an alarm-clock on it. Over the bed's headboard were one poster of a music festival, the image of a landscape and an advert of what you guessed must've been a club, that read 'tacos and beer" on it. The door to the bathroom was on the right.

Messy, yet tidy at the same time. Very Joel-like.

"No way..." you murmur, eyeing the guitar beside his bed. "All this time I thought it was a myth."

"What?" he asks from behind you.

"Dad told me you used to serenade girls back in college and that you wanted to become a singer." A giggle escapes your lips, unable to contain it. "I remember saying he was surely making it up, but..."

"I didn't- I mean..." he clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck and feeling his chest swell with your laughter. "Oh, shut up!"

"Make me." The lingering, mischievous smile on your face made his heart pound and blood rush. "Come on, Miller. Shut me up, I dare you."

His eyes darken, but you don't falter for a second. He doesn't move a muscle, solely watching as you took off his jacket and threw it to the bed.

"You dare me?" his voice goes drops an octave, following your every move closely. "That's rather bold of you, sweetheart."

"Mhm," without breaking eye contact, you start taking off your boots. "And yet you're doing nothing about it."

Joel starts walking towards you slowly, holding your gaze intently. Your hair was damp and your clothes were still wet; it didn't really matter that the air was chilly cause you still felt warm all over. He soon invades your space, cupping your chin in his big hand and lifting your head upwards.

"Well, you're awfully quiet now, aren't ya'?" his hot breath fanned across your cheeks, the gap between your faces being basically invisible.

"I'm just waiting for you to start singing some random song by Alabama or Johnny Cash," you scoff. "Like a good ol' Texan ma-"

He doesn't let you finish the sentence, abruptly crashing his lips into your own. Joel isn't delicate about it and the fervor with which he kisses you makes your body stumble a few steps backwards. Your shoulders hit the wall and he pins you against it as your mouths find a way to mold perfectly, at a much nicer pace than last time. You throw your hands around his neck and let your fingers tangle in the curls around his nape, tasting the fresh mint on his lips. His hands rest on your hips, chests pressed together as the temperature kept rising with each second that went on.

You part your lips in order to grant him deeper access, feeling his tongue slide past your teeth and meeting your own in an ardent, heated way. It was perfect, until he broke apart, looking down at you with an asserted confidence.

"You really know nothing 'bout country music," he says in between shaky breaths, beaming. "S'that what you wanted?"

"Yes," you manage to say.

"Then say 'thank you'," Joel indicates petulantly, stroking your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Go on, don't be such a brat."

You blink twice, your brain still buzzing with the sensation of mouth on you, barely capable of processing anything else. "But I want more..."

"You'll take what I give you."

Shit, when he said it like that- "Thank you."

"That's my girl," he straightened his back, opening the door next to you. "Now, get your pretty ass in the shower before you catch a cold, 'kay?" You roll your eyes and hear him chuckle. "There's clean towers under the sink. You can take some clothes from my drawers, or Sarah's if you feel like it. I don't think she'll mind."

"Understood." He can tell you're annoyed, which he finds funny.

"Don't be mad at me, angel." Joel tugs a strand of hair behind your ear. "Promise I'll make it up to you."

You nod distractedly, lost in the cocky spark on his eyes. "I'm not mad. Just hoping you fuck me real good if you're making me wait for it."

Your words almost make him choke on his own saliva. "Sweetheart, you're making it real hard for me to be a gentleman."

It makes your ego boost, in a sense. "I'll be quick. Can you get something for dinner, though? I'm starving."

"Shit, darlin', pick a struggle," he mocks as you enter the bathroom, "are you horny or hungry?"

"Oh, you jerk!"

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

6:15 pm.

You take a quick glance at Joel's alarm clock once you come out of the shower. It's been little more than an hour since your dad's plane took off. You hope the rain hadn’t made his flight any difficult, cause the weather turned out to be quite a blessing for you.

The cozy feeling of a nice, warm shower after being soaked under the rain was starting to settle in your bones, making your limbs relax. Then you realize, you smell like Joel. The scent of his soap, his shampoo, even his laundry detergent, is all over you. It's intoxicating in the most fantastic way possible, making your insides burn with a thrill of excitement. You took one on his flannels, —dark green with red stripes— and decided to wear it without anything besides your underwear. It was pretty big anyway, and covered just the necessary areas.

You slid your socks back on when all of the sudden you hear the faint sound of music from the floor beneath. Curious, you walk towards the noise, finding out Joel was in the kitchen, crouched down in front of the opened fridge. The CD player that you saw earlier on his room was now on the table, playing a melody that you recognized almost immediately.

"I like this song," you say, leaning against the wall. "That's Billy Idol, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he recalls, taking out a medium sized plastic box from the fridge. "Tommy made that mix. There's plenty of hits from past decades. I think you'll enjoy it."

The man finally turns around to face you and his face fails to hide his surprise. The way his prying eyes sweep your body in detail, taking his time particularly on your bare thighs, almost made you feel self-conscious if it weren't for that shadow of desire that crossed his eyes and the way his nostrils flared from a contained breath.

"How is he, by the way?" you ask, still on the subject. "Haven't seen him in a while."

"Who?" he clearly forgot what he had just said.

"Your brother," you call to mind, "how is he?"

Joel sets the box down on the table and drifts his gaze back to your face. "Fine, I guess. Last time we spoke he said he'd go to Dallas." He takes two glasses from the pantry and what it looks like a bottle of wine. "I-uh... There isn't any real food in here besides those strawberries and chocolates that this guy brought for Sarah. Should I order something?"

You shake your head and walk over to him, "This will do. Won't she get mad if we eat them, though?"

"Don't think so," he replies, pouring the red liquid into the glasses. "I'll blame you if she does."

"Oh, okay-" you cock an eyebrow at him and hold back a giggle. "Thought you didn't like wine."

"It's a fancy drink," he explains, "s'only for special occasions."

"Oh?" you take a sip from it, eyes boring into his. "And what's tonight's?"

Joel smiles conceitedly, jutting his chin out. "I've got you all to myself."

You snort, feeling the heat soar across your cheeks. He takes the snack box and with a sly gesture asks you to follow him into the living room, the melodic sound of the eighties tune turning to background noise as you do. The only lights on are the ones in the kitchen and the lamps beside the couch, shining a perfect light on his features.

"Come here," he calls, the leather squealing under his weight when he sat down. You set the glass down on the coffee table in front of the tv, going to sit next to him. "No, sweetheart," he grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him. "I meant here."

His legs part slightly, making room for you to sit on his lap. Your smile broadened toward a soft chuckle, settling yourself on his thigh. Joel immediately gets his hands on you, one on your lower back and the other merely resting on your upper leg.

"So, who's this mystery man that's been giving gifts to your darling daughter?" he scoffs in response, reaching for a chocolate from the box.

"Honestly? No fuckin' clue." You hum in surprise, drinking from your wine. "She never involves with them, thank god, and once they meet me they never come by again."

"I see,” you muse, “you're the overprotective type," you bite on a strawberry next.

"I wouldn't say it like that..." he sees the sarcastic glimpse on your expression and holds back laughter. "It's a dad reflex, I can't control it."

"Right, sounds convincing."

You stretch your arm behind the couch, setting your elbow and laying the side of your face on your palm. His face is very close to yours but all you do is simply stare at each other; Joel's big brown eyes glimmer with infatuation. “Can I ask you a question, sweetheart?" he asks lowly. "Somethin' more serious."

You wince in confusion, but still nod, "Sure."

He inhales sharply, taking a couple of seconds to actually say what he meant to. “Why are you here?" your frown deepens at his words. "I mean- Texas. I know you said you wanted to make up for the lost time with your old man, but... I feel like there's something else you're not saying."

It takes a minute for you to really sink in on his question. You nearly gulp down the alcohol before setting the glass down, avoiding his ardent gaze.

"Honestly?" you sigh, "There's so much to unpack that I don't even know where to start."

"Try." Although he didn't sound harsh, the effort he was asking you to put in wasn't something of your liking.

"Well, first of all," you meditate, clearing your throat, "the city didn't feel like home since my mom passed. It made me realize how much I missed here." He nods comprehensively, caressing the exposed skin of your thigh in a reassuring manner. "And then there's this- fear. Yeah, I guess it is fear... I've managed to accomplish so much in such short time that it actually fucking scares me to go any further and see that-" you stop, sighing and shaking your head. "That I've reached my limit."

For a moment, there's just silence floating between you, all that could be heard were the rain and a song by tears for fears.

"Darlin', look at me," he asks softly but you can't bring yourself to do it, embarrassed by your confession. "Please, let me see those pretty eyes of yours."

And it's practically impossible for you to deny him anything. Specially when he asks so nicely, when his hand grabs the side of your face so gently— you give in, just like that.

"You're afraid to succeed because you don't know what to do with yourself afterwards. Is that it?" You nod faintly. "Can I speak frankly?"

"I have a feeling you will anyway-"

"Yeah. A bit of tough love, but you need’a hear it." Joel strokes your cheek sweetly and you get shivers from the affection in the action. "Sweetheart, I know what you're going through. Shit feels like it's either moving too fast or not moving at all. And I know how scary that is. Trust me, there's still plenty of time for you."

You square your eyes to his, "Sure, bet you were frightened when you were twenty four."

"Terrified," he spoke truthfully. "Everyone I knew was getting married, moving out or working their asses off."

"And you?" he grunts, taking a strawberry from the box. "What were you doing?" Joel eats the fruit patiently, simply staring at you silently. "Come ooon, don't play hard to get."

"Gotta promise you won't laugh."

It's a tricky business for someone who makes fun of everything, and yet you simply reply: "I swear."

"Fine," he rasps out in fake annoyance. "I used to make my own guitars and- sell 'em sometimes. I'd also teach guitar lessons and horseback riding."

Your eyes widen in surprise and something flutters in your stomach. "Shit, that's actually pretty cool!"

He groans, rolling his eyes at the same time, "I told you not to make fun of me."

"No, no- I mean it." You shuffle on his lap, resting a hand on his chest. "And you sound passionate about it... Why'd you stop?"

The man shrugs his shoulders, tightening his grip on your waist. "It went well for a couple years but I eventually had to get something more solid. More so after Sarah was born." He takes a deep breath in, the smell of his own shampoo on your hair hitting his nostrils and catching him off-guard.

"You should teach me," you suggest with a smug grin. "I always wanted to learn."

"What, guitar or horseback riding?" he wonders, suddenly nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.

"Guitar. I'm pretty good at riding, if you must know." You feel him chuckle against your body, his facial hair scratching your sensitive skin.

"We'll see 'bout that," his voice comes out husky as he starts kissing along your jawline.

Joel's common sense jumped out the window long ago, but the string of self control that kept him sane all this time couldn't bear the weight of you wriggling on top of him, semi-naked and with his scent all over you. Something primal took over him, a glimpse of possessiveness that he didn't believe himself capable of feeling towards you specifically. He wanted you to wear that flannel around town so people would look at you and know who it belonged to; whose bed you've been visiting. He wanted you to smell of his cologne so other men would know that you weren't free for them.

Your fingers run through his soft curls, messing his hair while he grabs the back of your thighs and manhandles you onto straddling his lap. He nips and licks over all your vulnerable areas, making your breathing start to labour. How could he possibly know this well the easiest ways to have you so desperate this quick? Leaning into his touch, yearning for him even with the smallest action? He wasn't aware of the answer himself, he just knew.

Joel instinctively throws his head back when you tug at his hair and seize the opportunity to duck down and lay a sweet kiss on his forehead. His hands coast up your thighs, splaying his fingers on your ass to squeeze the flesh. You hold back a giggle, kissing the curve of his nose before catching his soft, soft lips on yours.

He slides an arm around your waist, pressing his palm between your shoulder blades to keep you as close as possible. You feel your nipples harden when his tongue ran along your bottom lip— tauntingly slow, until you allowed him full access to your mouth, letting him taste the sweet mixture of wine and strawberries on your tongue. But his vehemence didn't make you any less eager, kissing him back with just as much passion and vigor, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip and mildly pulling at it with minor strength.

The action ignites a fire within him, seeing you on top, feeling your fingers roam around his cheekbones and along his jawline like you knew just how much fucking power you had over him... It was a new sensation, a new kind of desire he didn't recognize at first.

Joel's lips were swollen and his own excitement was starting to feel evident underneath you, which created a blunt ache between your legs. He usually appeared so big and mean, with those broad shoulders and permanent scowl on his face. Now, though... He seemed like he'd let you do just about anything with him, to him— it didn't really matter as long as you kept staring at him like that; through heavy lids, eyes sparkling with a profound, desperate need that spoke without words, saying 'only you get to see this side of me'.

You start grinding your hips against his, rubbing your clothed core above his growing boner in small, calculated circles as you shore yourself up with a hand to his chest. He merely admired you from his position, letting you have your way with him; all the while his gaze reflected patience, like he could take over the situation any second but enjoyed watching you lead.

"Joel," you call his name, leaning forward to kiss his chin, moving your lips all the way down his throat and feeling the nice scratch of his beard. Your hands grab the collar of his shirt as you come up to whisper in his ear: "Stay still."

Panting, he narrows his eyes in confusion, "What?" Though you don't give him enough time to figure out your words, getting back on your feet and parting his legs further with a light thump of your knee.

He observes your every move quietly, amused by your confidence and determination when you drop to your knees in front of him. Joel's cocky expression doesn't sway, not even when you drag your nails across his inner thigh, inching closer towards his very visible hard on. However, his body betrays him, selling a whole different story. His muscles tense, his jaw clenches and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"Stop being such a fucking tease," he hissed, refusing to place his hands on you.

"Or what?" you drawl, coming to rest your palm on his crotch. A simple, feathery touch that made his pulse accelerate.

"You'll regret it," he warns grimly.

"S'that so?" you start to unbuckle his belt, way too slow for his liking, tugging down the zipper of his jeans. "I think I can handle it."

He smirked, his hand slithers to the back of your scalp and forces you to lock eyes with him. "Don't test your luck, sweetheart."

You pout mockingly, doing exactly the opposite of what he was saying while dragging down the fabric just enough to free his cock. Your new found courage falters for a second, finally seeing him in all his size and girth. He was, by all means, a big one, the amount of precome oozing on the tip telling you just how much he loved being teased, despite whatever words came out of his mouth. The mere sight of it sent a new heated wave of slick between your thighs.

Joel mimicked your expression scornfully, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone, "Too big for ya'?"

"None of that," you wrap your hand around the base, not really applying any pressure; though the sole warmth of your touch was enough to give him goosebumps, "we'll make it fit."

"That's my girl."

With a chuckle, you lower your head to kiss the inside of his thigh, the pads of your fingers softly grazing the veins on his length. His whole body shudders, leaking onto your hand and letting out a subtle gasp as you spread kisses all along his shaft. Your eyes peer into his soul when you gently place your lips to the slit, tasting the salty precome as he calls your name in what resembles a desperate plea. In a swift move, you finally take the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and deciding to put an end to his suffering. He mutters a gruff 'fuck' when you attempt to take him farther, pumping what you couldn't yet fit and snaking your free hand under the hem of his denim shirt to caress the soft skin of his belly.

"Shit, darlin'-" you feel the heaviness of his palm simply resting on the back of your head, not pushing or forcing you in any way, but allowing you to adapt to his size. "The only way to get ya' to stop talking is with a mouth full of cock, ain't it?"

You hum in response and the sensation is completely enrapturing for Joel, his callused fingers tangle in your hair to ground him as he releases a shaky breath. It's a huge challenge to focus on anything else but him; your mind whirring with a familiar dizziness while you bob your head up and down his shaft, intoxicated by the taste of him, the smell of him and every sound that escapes his lips, making your clit throb with need and your arousal pool in your panties, uncomfortably sticking to your skin.

For Joel, it's overwhelming.

He's never really been the noisy type during sex but heck— you were doing it for him. He's a panting mess above you, his hips buck ever so slightly in tandem with your mouth, trying not to lose it entirely. Your spit drools down his dick and the way your dark, dilated pupils sparkle with lust as you hollow your cheeks around him pulls a groan deep from his throat.

"That's it, you can take it," he coaxes when your nose nudges his pubic bone, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. "Good fuckin' girl, just like that..."

Enticed with the praise, you keep repeating the motion, sliding one hand to hold his hipbone for support and feeling his burning skin under your touch whilst the other plays with his balls to aid his pleasure. The obscene slick sounds mix in the air with his hoarse cursing, the rain and the faint music of kings of leon, sex on fire.

He looks so good from this angle, chest rising and falling with heavy, irregular breaths, head thrown back and both hands on you, keeping you angled for his cock. Drops of precum roll on your tongue as you keep changing the pace at which your head moves, tears welling in your eyes and jaw going slack. Shit, you're aching for him so bad that the only thing you can think of to relieve the need is squeeze your thighs together in order to create some friction. And it works, the action eliciting a moan from you that makes him fucking whimper your name.

"Bet your cunt's drippin' just from sucking my dick," he muffles a laugh that turns halfway into a sigh when you pay special attention to the ruddy, sensitive tip. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum-"

You can tell he is by the way his cock twitches in your mouth; his spine straightens at the heat gathering between his legs and he tries to pull you off against your will, uttering a warning that you chose to ignore. Joel's lips part in a throaty groan when he reaches his high, feeling the outline of your fingers digging harshly on his hip, your hand rubbing his length and your tongue lapping at his slit, taking in every single drop of his release until he's spent, right before pressing a soft kiss to it that makes him shiver. And hell— contrary to others, he tasted good; warm and thick, coating your senses.

His heart beats aggressively against his ribs and he loosens his grip on your hair, allowing you to get back on your feet while resting your hands on his waist. Although his eyes are barely open, he can quite literally feel your smile when you chastely kiss his lips. He chuckles breathlessly as you sit beside him, tugging himself back in his pants.

"We're not done yet," he says, grabbing the back of your knee and promptly engulfing your leg around his waist, maneuvering your body so that your back rests against the couch and he's crouched down, caged in the middle of your thighs. "I said I'd make it up to you and I will."

"Well, you've certainly got some stamina in you, old man," you poke fun at him, raising a hand to move those rebellious curls away from his eyes.

Joel smiles, caressing your cheek affectionately. "Always got somethin' to say, don't ya'?"

"Oh, Mr. Miller," you coo, enveloping your arms around his neck, "we both know just how much you love to hear me talk."

"Mhm," he leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth, "yes, I reckon you're right."

His big hand covers nearly half of your face as he holds you still, crashing your lips together. He kisses you deeply, vigorously, in a way that makes you wonder if you could possibly drown in a person's essence. His other palm slides between your bodies to start undoing the buttons of the flannel —his flannel— you were wearing. You can't help but whine when he draws back, watching you from above.

"Joel-" blood rushes through your ears and can feel your cheeks warm up as he takes in the sight of you, his fingers coasting down your throat and to the valley of your breasts, licking his lips when he sees your hardened nipples.

"You're fuckin' beautiful," he speaks freely, without holding back emotion, and it makes your heart skip a beat. "Such a sweet, sweet girl I can't get enough of."

"Then take a picture," you purr, "it'll last longer."

He stares at you through a measuring squint, a lighthearted smile forming on his face. "Since you insist." It takes a moment for you to realize what he means, until you finally recall that there's actually a camera inside your purse; one that he reaches for. "If I remember correctly... You said I could take as many as I like."

You lightly squeeze his waist with your thighs, feeling your whole body burn with anticipation. "I did say that..."

"Let's just pray your dad won't find these hanging around," he ponders, turning your face slightly to the side. "He'll have my head."

"And that would be terrible..."

He takes the Polaroid with one hand, the other coming to grope your breast as he backs off for a better angle, ultimately deciding to wrap his fingers loosely around your neck instead, purely holding you there. You glance at the lens, making your best "fuck me" eyes added to a cheeky smile, hearing him curse under his breath prior to snapping the picture.

"You've got the prettiest fucking tits I've even seen, sweetheart," he snarls, laying a palm flat over your lower abdomen while he waited for the photo.

"Has anyone ever told you you've got such a marvelous way with words?" he suppressed a laugh, safeguarding the picture on the back pocket of his jeans.

"Just a few women." Before you can even begin to act annoyed, he sets the camera aside and leans down to kiss your collarbones, the pad of his thumb kneading circles around your sensitive nipple. "Look at you, honey," he murmurs, "you're so easy to please... Or is it just because of me?"

You're panting, your back arching in response to his constant ministrations, every inch of your skin blushing under his attention. "I think it's-" you're cut off by the sudden need to swallow when he sucks a mark on the vulnerable skin between your breasts, "you."

His body vibrates with a laugh and you feel his hand palm your clothed sex, dragging his tongue over your delicate nipple, gently nibbling at it. You screw your eyes shut and let a single, fluttery moan slide past your lips when his thumb nudges your clit.

"So wet just from giving head?" Joel shakes his head in fake disapproval. "Who knew you were such a horny little thing?"

You are holding onto his bicep for dear life, fearing you might collapse into oblivion if you part from his body. His index glides across your slit over the drenched cotton fabric, making you squirm beneath him.

"You- you tasted good," you babble, mind all over the place.

"Yeah?" his chest swells with pride, "you should taste yourself, angel," his mouth travels across your abdomen, "sweetest thing I've ever had."

It's pointless trying to conjure a response, you're simply too far gone by now. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and buries his head between your thighs, flattening his tongue against the bundle of nerves. You whimper, running your fingers through his locks and bucking your hips to meet his face.

"Please," you blurt out, "Joel, please..."

"What, sweetheart?" he asks, moving the underwear aside to directly touch your clit, fondling it as he watched your slick coat his fingers. "What do you want?" But you can't conceive an answer, all that could come out of your mouth were those pathetic, desperate moans. "Use your words."

With his free hand he plays with your nipple, grabbing your breast with his entire hand. "I want you."

He tauntingly moves his fingers around your seam, refusing to go any further. "Say it again."

"I want you, Joel."

Cocky bastard.

He licks his fingers clean and starts getting off the couch, leaving you with a confused, dumbfounded expression that nearly makes him crack up.

"You didn't really believe I'd be fucking you on the couch, did ya'?" he teases, but all you can muster up is a barely audible 'oh'. "Come on, let's take this to my room. And don't forget to bring that camera of yours."

Mind still dazing, you obey his instructions, following him silently upstairs as he undoes the buttons of his shirt. For a second, he glances back at you, gifting a soft, reassuring grin before extending his arm to grab your fingers, holding your hand in a pure, intimate touch.

And just for that moment, you forget that he's actually your dad's oldest friend, that he's Sarah's father or any other thought of the sort. He's just Joel. Joel Miller, the only man that has managed to make you feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach, or that made you blush with merely a few compliments.

"Ask me to kiss you," he urges, taking the camera from your hands and carefully placing it on his bedside table, his eyesight fixed on you.

"Kiss me," you don't ask, you downright beg.

He does, though it's not like the previous times. He's tender, almost languid about it. His hands are on your bare hips while yours cup his cheeks; Joel's fingers reach to remove the flannel from your shoulders and moves his lips to the newly exposed skin, murmuring constant admirations. You feel your lungs clench and a tingly sensation on your lower belly.

"I'll take care of you, darlin'." You let the shirt slide down your arms and fall to the floor. "Gonna show you what you've been missin' out on by fooling around with those stupid boys." His words go straight to your core as he takes a step back to sit on the edge of his bed. "Take them off," he gestures to the last piece of clothing on your body.

You compel to his wish, stripping under his prying eyes while he lazily gets rid of his boots. His lips twitch in a smile when he sees the glistening mess he's made of you, promptly dragging you on top of him. Your hands lay flat on his exposed chest shortly before he switches positions, readjusting you on the middle of the bed.

"Joel, please just-" you whine when he keeps playing with your entrance, stretching you with his fingers. Your skin scorches with desire, knees weak from the growing heat on your lower body.

"Stop nagging, sweetheart," he grits through his own lust, his gaze impossibly dark. "I wouldn't want to hurt you."

"Joel, I'm too worked up, I-" you gasp when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that particular spot that made your toes curl. "Fuck..."

"Come on, baby." He ducks down to kiss the skin behind your ear and his beard tickles nicely. "It's just the two of us now, feel free to be as loud as you need to."

His pants are undone and hanging loosely on his hips, the image being so blatantly erotic that only managed to get you more aroused as you fumble to get rid of his shirt. He chuckles at your eagerness, shrugging it out of the way and haphazardly kicking off his jeans and underwear altogether, discarding them on the floor with the rest of the clothes.

You take a second to revel on his naked figure, his tanned skin, broad shoulders and sturdy chest, the marked collarbones and every noticeable mole. His hair is messy from your fingers, a thin layer of sweat sticks some curls to his temples as his wild, hungry eyes bask in the view of your sopping pussy when he parts your shaky legs further. But the moment of appreciation is brief, both of you being edged and spurred on.

He maneuvers a hand to your lower back and aligns your hips with his, watching the way your hole drips for him, wetting his bedsheets. You're a panting mess beneath him, lightly scratching his shoulder-blades and biting on your bottom lip, looking up at him doe-eyed and all splayed out for him to take. Joel wants to tell you just how badly he's longed for this— how he's been yearning to have you so achingly bad. But right now, feelings overrun his thoughts, especially after hearing his name spilling from your lips, begging for him to take you.

"Relax, darlin'." Joel teases your slit with the head of his cock, rubbing it along your sex and coating it with your slick. Your head tilts backwards, dipping on his pillows, small whines keep spilling from your mouth. "I won't go easy on you."

"Great, cause I don't want you to-" your slurred words get muffled by the sudden feeling of intrusion as he finally buries himself in your cunt, letting out a filthy, guttural groan.

You close your eyes, feeling lightheaded and staggered from the way he was filling you up so nicely, the stretch being a tad painful at first, but the kind of pain that could only ever feel good. Then your whole body quivers from head to toe.

"That's it, you can take it," he mutters, peppering kisses to your chin and collarbones as he bottoms out. "Fuck, you feel divine-" The tight, warm grip you welcome him with resembles nothing he's ever had before. This is new, this is you.

You bear down on his cock, enveloping your legs around his waist and lifting your hips to encourage him. He holds you down with a firm grip around your neck, starting to set a pace with his hips as he draws out and then back in slowly, roughly, making your back arch. Your erect nipples brush against his strong chest and create a delightful friction that has you moaning louder than you could've expected. You're amazed by the way he thrusts into you, somehow mindful to hit every right spot inside you —needless to say that it was something that others could hardly manage before—, his pubic hair tickles the skin below your belly button, sending shivers down your spine that prompt you to drag your nails down his back.

"Look," he indicates, despite your inability to even think straight. "Look," he repeats harshly, using the hand that was on your hips to tilt your head downwards, forcing you to stare at where your bodies connected. It was obscene, the wet noises of your pussy and skin clapping against skin sounding purely pornographic. "Look at the mess you're making."

"Joel, I-" you can't form sentences properly, all your attention being focused on how good he's making you feel. "I'm so close, for god's sake..."

"Lemme help with that," he speaks breathlessly, pining your leg over the crook of his elbow to make his thrusts deeper, more precise. You cry out in bliss, feeling the heat expanding from your stomach to your legs. "Yeah, you're close, I can fuckin' feel it- fuck..."

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing his dick just right. He knows he's in too deep when you call out his name like it's the only word you can remember, when he wallows in the glorious view of your pretty face contorted in pleasure. He looses the grip on your neck and strokes your lower lip with his thumb, prodding you to keep eye contact as your orgasm washes over you. It's electrifying, a feverish kind of sensation that gratifies every nerve on your body.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, overcame by the intense feeling of euphoria that your body was providing. You realize in that moment that the reason why Joel could fill that void so easily was because he kept prioritizing you above him. Your pleasure was his, too.

"Jesus Christ, Joel-" you mewl when he abruptly pulls out, “… Worth the wait.”

He laughs shakily, kissing your lips shortly. "Turn around, sweetheart. I want to fuck you from behind."

With a buzzing dizziness, you follow his instruction. God, right now you'd do just about anything if he asked you to. You notice movement from his part and patiently wait with your butt up in the air for him to stuff you again; instead, you hear the familiar clicking sound of the Polaroid camera.

"You fucker," you chuckle, "did you just take a picture of my ass?"

"Couldn't help myself," he groans, caressing the soft flesh before lightly slapping it. "You look too damn gorgeous." The hit on your skin burns nicely and you can't hold back the gasp that escapes your lips.

"Shit- do that again..."

You can practically hear his smile when he talks, "You into that?" he repeats the action with a little more force and the pain sends a shock of pure pleasure between your legs, your own fluids dripping down your thighs. "F'course you are, I should've guessed with that attitude of yours."

He plays with your swollen pussy, enjoying your tiny moans and the way your legs tremble as you fist the sheets underneath you, burying your face on his pillow when he spanks you again— this time so hard that it probably left a mark. But before the sting washes away he takes the opportunity to enter you in one swift move, holding your hips steady and trailing his fingers along your spine.

"That's my sweet girl," he praises a midst, starting to grind his cock inside you. "Taking me like you were made for it."

This is way more intense, the angle allowing him to hit deeper, harsher. His gruff moans become more frequent as he speeds up his pace, letting you know just how good you were making him feel. The sensation was purely fantastic, melting every thought away and just leaving Joel Miller to fill you in every sense of the word. His hands are never still, roaming your responsive areas, caressing the most sensitive and always taking care of your aching clit.

You might cry from the overwhelming ecstasy— the way his tip constantly hits the depths of your cunt with each relentless thrust has you seeing stars. Joel gets a thrill from the way you can't seem to get enough of him either, throwing your hips back to meet his unwavering pace, clawing at the pillows and moaning helplessly, pushing him close to his climax.

"Joel, it's too much..." you mumble. "Please, I can't-"

He hunches over you, kissing your nape to ease the overpowering sensations, "Yes, you can. You're a big girl, you can take it." And then your vision goes blurry, all you're able to hear being his disjointed, lewd moans; all you can feel is his hard, hot body flushed to yours, his cock twitching inside you and the wetness of your own body. "That's it, give me another one, baby- fuuuck..."

The buildup is so strong you nearly collapse, feeling yourself tremble as he chases his orgasm, fucking you through yours. His fingers reach your bundle of nerves and apply barely any pressure, which has you coming undone in seconds, absolutely soaking his dick and the sheets beneath you, chanting his name like a prayer. A string of curses falls from his lips as he pulls out and quickly manhandles your fucked out self to lay on your back. He exhales sharply through his nose, spilling his load all over your stomach without even touching himself.

You both stay there for a while, catching your breath and looking intently at each other’s eyes before he rolls over, going limp beside you. You stare blankly at de ceiling, suddenly feeling aggressively aware of your sticky skin covered in sweat and cum, the numbness on your lower body that will surely feel sore in the morning and all the marks he's left dispersed on you. You feel satisfied, fulfilled even. Joy bubbles up your chest and comes out in form of a giggle, one you're unable to hold back.

"What?" he asks, turning his face towards you with a half-smile.

"I don't know, I just..." you shake your head, still laughing. "I don't know."

He chortles in disbelief, holding out a hand to take some tissues from the bedside drawer and going to swipe his mess off your tummy and inner thighs. "Shit, I think I might’ve just fucked the sense out of ya'."

Joel sets himself between your parted legs, laying the weight of his upper body on top of you, resting his chin on your chest, eyes boring into yours. He looks so young like this, despite the greying hair and the small wrinkles, his beautiful brown orbs sparkle ever so brightly under your attentive gaze.

"What will your dad say when he returns and finds out his only daughter has completely lost her mind?" he jokes, cradling you in his big arms.

"Come on," you roll your eyes playfully, "we both know that if I had been in my right mind since the beginning, I probably wouldn't be in your bed right now." He doesn't reply, but his smile doesn't fade either. Joel nuzzles his face on the crook of your neck, kissing your pulse zone briefly before closing his eyes. You run your fingers through his hair, softly massaging his scalp in utter silence.

The wind was howling outside, rustling the tree branches, but at least it wasn't raining anymore. You can feel Joel's heart beating against your ribs, his deep breaths fanning across your shoulder and his unique scent all around you, on you. In spite of the cold air, your naked bodies are warm enough to stay comfortably in this position, at least for a while— however, there's something deep inside you that doesn't want this moment to end.

"Hey," you call him lowly and he hums in response, "can we order pizza?"

He nods faintly, "Anything you want, honey."

Anything.

If only.

"I'll call," you say. "Any specific requests?"

"As long as there isn't any pineapple on it, we're fine." You glance down at him, almost appalled.

"You don't like pineapple on pizza?"

"No. That's disgusting, come on."

"Oh, grow up!" he opens his mouth to retort, but when he sees your dismayed expression he can merely bark a laugh that you get infected with.

"Order whatever you want," he whispers in your ear. "But you'll have to promise something."

"What's that?" you raise an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Say you'll stay," he murmurs, slightly hesitant. "Stay here and spend the night with me."

The proposal takes you by surprise, so much that you actually stopped breathing. You ponder wether if you could or you should; because, at the end, what would a night really mean? What could possibly change?

Nothing, right?

Besides, no one had to know.

(...)

A few moments later you're downstairs looking for your phone, wearing nothing other than his green flannel. Joel decided to take a shower while you ordered the food and you chose to walk around the house, paying attention to the little details you hadn't quite noticed before.

Now that you see it, there are plenty of horse images here and there. Very Texan of Joel, you can't deny. Lots of pictures of Sarah growing up, some of him and Tommy and a good deal with your dad. None of his ex-wife. In fact, there's no proof that she even existed. You decide not too think too hard about it, since it was none of your business after all.

You pour yourself a glass of water and wander your eyes across the amount of pills he usually takes. Anxiety pills, painkillers, vitamins. What could possibly be troubling this middle-aged man so bad? Again, you decide to turn a blind eye and simply pick up the phone, expecting a message from your dad to tell you he arrived in Boston well and safe. Instead, you find that your direct messages in social media have new requests. Curious, you open them to see what the fuzz was about.

Hi!

This is Will

I don't know if Sarah mentioned me...

I'm her English teacher, haha

I hope you don't find this creepy, your profile popped up in my 'people you may know' section and since Sarah said she wanted to introduce us, I thought I might just say hi 😉

Honestly, with everything that went down you had nearly forgotten about Sarah's 'you should hang out with people your age' speech. And now that you were stalking his profile, he appeared to be maybe a couple years older than you— handsome in a boyish, intelectual way, if that made sense. Apparently, he studied in New York too, and lived in Queens.

Hi!

Yeah, I reckon she did

What's up, Queens? :)

You don't really expect a reply, not giving much thought to anything in the moment. Though, an involuntary smile twitches your lips when there's a quick message that reads "Not much, Brooklyn" and the writing bubble underneath.

After all, having a friend in Austin wouldn't hurt.

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #dbf!joel #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #the last of us au #smut

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hornsent-consort · 3 months ago

Text

Found family Antonio x teen!reader

Warnings: father/child dynamic, GN!reader, OOC maybe, no beta reader (do I need to say this every post?(yes(we die like men))), non canon compliant, ts follows the IDV fanfic writer lore where everyone lives happily in the manor, Antonio is a good parent, implied luchinini, and implied Antonio x devil? Maybe?

I love to gamble -Antonio probably

🎻 Antonio would be an amazing father figure, but I do think that he would see you more of his friend rather than his kid that he needs to be 100% strict with all the time. My best comparison is the dad that you sometimes forget is your dad because yall just have so much fun together.

🎻 “do as I say, not as I do” is a phrase this man uses often. He doesn’t want you to fall down the same dark paths that he once went through, so just trust him on this one.

🎻if you’re a survivor, he will most likely not go friendly for you unless he wanted to go friendly for everyone else. He’s very much the type of guy to never let you win, so if you do win against him, you know you truly deserve it.

🎻he was a very very good cook. Keyword: Was. He doesn’t cook much now, since he knows it won’t end well, but if you want, he can make a good sandwich! Nothing else though, because it will genuinely be revolting

🎻think Xie Lian food

🎻he would be very happy if you came to him with any relationship troubles. These do not need to be romantic, they can purely be platonic, but he still wants to hear about it. He’s has his fair share of relationships good and bad, so I do think he would have lots of great wisdom

🎻wine mom

🎻he’s not overprotective nor does he get upset if you get slightly hurt in a match. If you just have a sprain and it’s not serious, he’ll probably laugh at you, but if you were genuinely hurt… he’d still laugh at you while he’s nursing you back to health.

🎻a lot of music will be played. He needs you to give him your true honest opinion on what his music sounds. He doesn’t appreciate your jokes when you say it’s bad, and he swears he will do the same to you.

🎻you will be spending a lot of time around Luchino. They are great friends, and Luchino is a lot like an uncle… or second dad… third dad?

🎻your three dads: Antonio, Luchino, and the Devil

#ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁! maxim writes #identity v x reader #idv x reader #antonio paganini #Antonio Paganini x reader #platonic #x male reader #violinist x reader #identity v #identity v x male reader #luchinini

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peterparkersnose · 2 years ago

Text

Three Years

pairing: Javi Pena x reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: anxiety, reader has a child, angst if you squint, re connection of the two characters, reader has a liking of photography, out of character javi but who cares (i crave this man domestically)

a/n babies! the pedro wave recently has me worried. i dont want them to make him into eddie munson/joe quinn bc i cannot loose pedro (ive been a fan since march ‘22) and i will be heartbroken if it becomes embarrassing to stan this wonderful man. tell me he doesnt look good in that gif god damn. any narcos inaccuracies I apologize I havent watched it since the summer

summary Javi reconnects with his former fling (the ambassador’s daughter) and finds out a secret

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 6 mins 15 seconds

His palms were sweating. Maybe it was the Texas heat, or maybe for once in his life Javier Peña was actually nervous.

He sat parked on the busy street of San Antonio trying to muster up the courage to knock on your door.

2213 Ace Street, San Antonio, Texas. Y/N.

The crumpled up post it note Steve had hastily written your address down on. It was his final goodbye gift to Javi, handed over to him secretly through a handshake.

Javi figured he pulled it from a classified document. You were the ambassador to Colombia’s daughter anyways, it’s not like your address would just be laying around in the Colombian embassy.

He felt a bit out of place in the expensive neighborhood. Everyone around seemed to glare at him in his tight jeans. Maybe it was all in his head, he wasn’t sure. Anxiety seemed to overshadow his unbeatable confidence that day. He stared at the house numbers trying to figure out which one was yours.

2205, 2208… 2211

2213

Your townhome was nice. Natural brick house, a bit large for just yourself.

After all these years, you have had to move on. Three years with no contact. There was no way you were still single. And the size of this house was just living proof that you had moved on.

Three years. Javi stood with his hands on his hips, glaring down the avenue at the setting sun. When the secret relationship was exposed, it had all been swept under the rug. The facade of close friends the two of you had been putting on was figured out by your father. One of Javi’s biggest regrets was letting you leave and go back to the states. He didn’t want to admit it then, but he knew.

He was in love.

Three years. Javi couldn’t believe it.

He swallowed sharply. Three years, he had to at least see you. Be in your presence one more time, even if it was just to say a proper goodbye. The crumpled up post it returned to his pocket as he made his way up your steps.

The doorbell was an antique painted white; typical for these upscale neighborhoods. He rung it, and prayed you weren’t home.

His stomach dropped when he heard your sweet voice.

“Coming!”

The door whistfully opened. Your hair was tied back and you had an apron on over your outfit. Flour was smeared over the apron along with other various baking ingredients Javi couldn’t name.

Your expression fell from ‘I think my package I ordered is here’ to a face Javi couldn’t even explain. Confusion mixed with such an unannounced wave of hurt.

Silence and stares became the moment as your soft radio in the background ended its song and switched to a commercial.

“Hi,” Is all that he could manage to say. He let out a breathe of air he had felt like he had been holding for years.

“H-hi.” you stuttered, giving him one more glance to make sure this was real.

“What are you doing he-” you began to say, but you were interrupted.

“Mommy!” said your son, trotting in from the kitchen to find the two of you standing there. Your back stiffened as you took in a sharp breath. “The cakes, there big! Too big.” the child exclaimed, waving his hands in the air to tell the story.

“Shit, Grant!” you scolded your son, scooping the boy up in your arms and whisking him back to the kitchen.

“One second, Javier!” you called from the kitchen. His stomach seemed to turn at the use of his name. His full name.

He stood dumbfounded at your door. So you had moved on.

Javi slowly entered your house. Pictures hung on your wall; he recognized one from a date he took you on. He hated hiking, but the beautiful sights were just too good to miss in Colombia. He could see the corner of the picnic blanket in the photo, remembering the nice time together. Pictures of the boy were hung, of course. Baby photos and photos looking like they were taken yesterday of Grant were in various frames around the house.

His heart stopped when he saw the one picture sitting on your fireplace. An easy one to miss, but he spotted it.

You, himself, Steve, and Connie all smiling at the bar you used to frequent. Wouldn’t your spouse be mad about those pictures being on display?

“I see you let yourself in,” you said, entering the room once again. “I can go, I’m sorry but… you still have these?” he asked. Your eyes widened as he mentioned leaving.

“Your welcome to stay, please, have a seat if you’d like.” you offered, taking off your apron and hanging it on a hook. Javi could sense your shock. “Wouldn’t your husband be upset? I mean with our history…”

“No husband.” you said with a tight lipped smile. “Just me and Grant.”

“Your son?” Javier asked, looking down the hallway leading to your kitchen. There he saw the boy peeking out behind the wall. Once they made eye contact, he gasped and retreated the kitchen.

“How did you find me?” you asked, ignoring the question. “I… had help?” he said, trying not to throw Steve under the bus. He took the post it note out of his pocket and handed it to you. “Steve’s handwriting,” you chuckled to yourself. His distinct chicken scratch was hard to not recognize.

“I saw that you finally got that bastard,” you scoffed. “I was so relieved when I saw Escobar was killed on the news. It was strange, though. Seeing you and Steve through a screen.”

“Yeah,” Javi awkwardly laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Would you like to meet him?” you asked, biting the bullet. “Escobar?” Javi asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. “No,” you chuckled, turning around to see your snooping son again.

“C’mere,” you said sweetly, giving into the child’s interest in this stranger.

Grant came running and hit your form so hard you almost fell forwards on your knees. “Careful baby,” you chuckled, caressing his dark brown hair as he hid behind your legs.

“This is Javier,” you introduced your son to the mysterious man.

“From stories?” Grant asked, peeking out behind your legs. “Yes, baby. Like from the stories.”

Javier’s heart seemed to drop. This kid has heard stories about him before? No father around, no husband? Tell me why this kid was starting to look more and more like his mother.

He didn’t want to admit the very possible truth to himself.

“He got the bad guy?” Grant asked, now holding on to your hand. He was still very obviously weary about Javier. “Mhm,” you said, crouching down next to Grant. “Remember the TV a few weeks ago? When they caught the bad guy?” you asked your son. He looked at Javi intensively.

Your eyes met Javi’s and you felt the guilt consume you. You had to do it; even if the pit in your stomach was about to erupt out in vomit. You had to.

“He’s yours.”

“No,” Javi immediately responded. He didn’t mean to give such a negative response, he was just stuck in a haze in this new reality.

He was a father.

“Your kidding?” he asked, a hand coming to his forehead and sliding down his face. “Your the only guy I slept with in Colombia.”

“What’s his name? Full name,” he asked. “Grant Javier Peña.”

Grant looked up to his mother when she said his name. “He turned two in April,”

A silent tear rolled down Javier’s face as a hand moved to his mouth. It was early January. He had about a two and a half year old son. The little boy that had now moved to playing with action figures on the floor in front of him was his; his own flesh and blood. Half of him, half of you.

“And your father?” he anxiously asked, rubbing his hands together. “He wasn’t pleased. Doesn’t visit much anymore anyways,” you scoffed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said, trying to keep his tone steady. “I wasn’t allowed. I promise, I begged my father through my whole pregnancy. I tried letters, ways to get to Steve or Connie. Nothing. I had given up hope after his first birthday.”

“And you did this all alone?” he asked you, standing up to embrace you. His hands took yours as you shook your head yes. You bit your lip, trying your best not to cry. You wrapped your arms around his chest and felt his heartbeat. It was beating fast.

“I’m so sorry, mi amor.” he whispered in your ear. “What can I do?”

“Whatever you need to,” you said, breaking the hug. “I know it isn’t easy. It’s a hard decision. I’ve been doing it alone now for almost three years. If you don’t want to be involved, Javi, I completely understand.”

“No, no.” he said. “I… if you’ll have me, I’ll stay.”

“Javi-”

“No questions. My decision, I’m here for you two. Emotionally, financially, whatever you need from me.” “That’s asking too much, just maybe give it some time to think about-”

“I’ve been thinking about you every day for three years, Y/N. I am absolutely sure about my decision.”

“Mama,” Grant asked, turning around to look at the two of you standing above him. “Play?”

Grant approached Javi cautiously, holding a G.I. Joe figurine in his hand. He offered the toy to his father. “Play?” he asked once again. Javier looked to you; you shook your head in approval.

The sight of your son and his father playing together was enough to make you happy for a lifetime.

Javier was cautious. His experience with children was basically non existent. “Who is he?” he asked in his softest voice he could think of. “Joe! This Jack, Jasmine, Kevin, Gumball and…”

Javi listened as his son named off all of his action figures along with some stuffed animals strewn across the room.

You slowly crept to your bedroom where you kept your camera hidden away. Adjusting the settings, you hid behind the couch to get a perfect angle of this moment you never wanted to forget.

Snap!

Both of the boys turned around to see you standing behind the couch. “No picture!” Grant complained, stomping his tiny fist on the ground. A smile spread to Javi’s lips as he saw his son squirm.

“I’m sorry baby. Keep playing.” you said, placing the camera on a desk in the living room.

“Mommy take pictures a lot.” Grant sighed, picking up another action figure and kept on playing.

This was definitely going on your wall.

all posts @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise

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daydreamkissesxo · 2 months ago

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Hank Voight x daughter reader x Antonio Dawson | Daddy issues

Brief mentions of smut.

(I personally love Hank)

Being the youngest daughter of Hank Voight came with an incredible list of perks, but an even bigger list of issues.

He wasn't always present in your childhood due to his workload and eventual prison sentence but despite that, he was so insanely protective that it was almost smothering.

Once old enough you'd made the conscious decision to move to New York, and for once your father didn't even try to stop you.

He didn't know what was hiding beneath the surface, that you were hurting because of his lack of presence yet imposing such harsh rules on you when he was present.

He supported you financially and reluctantly sent you on your way, but he never told you just how much he wanted you to stay.

A part of you was tempted to come back, to cling to whatever attention your father gave you even if it was minimal, but you didn't.

Several years after your move, you'd found yourself homesick and incredibly lonely.

You were hopeful that your father would have changed his ways, that he would have missed you just as much as you'd missed him.

Once you'd arrived in Chicago, you immediately headed for the precinct, your luggage still in hand as you grew overwhelmingly excited to finally see your father.

Trudy greeted you with open arms and an oddly warm smile, she couldn't believe how much you'd changed since she last saw you.

Your excitement was quickly deflated as she informed you that your father was out on a bust, but she reassured you he'd be back soon.

You grew increasingly impatient as time started to pass, that excitement you felt earlier in the day now replaced with frustration and disappointment.

When Hank finally did return, Trudy escorted you upstairs to his office where he waited for you.

Your reunion wasn't as sweet as you'd hoped, he'd just taken an incoming call for an update on the ongoing case which left you stood there impatiently until he'd finished.

His attention was immediately brought back to you as the call ended, he smiled warmly before opening his arms to embrace you.

You coldly declined, remaining still in your spot while your expression grew increasingly sour.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Hank asked half amused, lowering his hands to his sides.

"You knew I was here. You knew I was waiting for you." you replied, a hint of frustration breaking through.

"I had to take a call. Sweetheart, you know this job is demanding, I'm sorry."

His tone was slightly sympathetic but not nearly as much as you wanted it to be.

"Just forget it." You reply, dismissing his sympathy altogether.

You roll your eyes, avoiding his gaze entirely as looking at him would only anger you further.

Hank never took kindly to being spoken to the way you always dared, his gaze grew colder as you give him a dismissive glance.

"Hey. I'm doing my job, okay? A job that keeps this city safe, one that keeps you safe. How about a little respect?" He asked rhetorically, waiting for you to give him even the slightest acknowledgement.

"If you'd been a better father all those years ago, maybe I'd actually respect you." You coldly reply.

Hank looked visibly stunned, he knew he'd made mistakes but he'd only ever cared.

"You're so busy fighting the bad guys in everyone else's lives that you've never even tried to fight the ones in mine."

"And If you'd have told me, I could have helped!" He replied, angry with both himself and your secrecy.

"You were never there! You were never available!"

Alvin stood from his desk ready to defuse the situation but Hank held his hand up in signal to halt.

"Financial support and emotional availability are two very different things, when are you going to realise that?!" You asked, a stray tear rolling down your cheek as you glare at him so defiantly.

"You wanted to go to New York." He said calmly, his jaw visibly ticking as he grind his teeth.

"I wanted you to stop me, not slap a stack of cash in my hands and send me on my way! I wanted you to show me that you care! I would have done anything outrageous just to get your attention!" You admitted, wiping your cheek roughly with your hand.

Hank could barely find the strength to respond, overwhelmed with anger and despair as your relationship hang by a thread.

"Go home, We'll talk about this later."

You stare at him in disbelief, once again feeling as though you came second to his demanding work load.

"I'm going back to New York, I have nothing more to say to you." You turn away, knocking the files that sit on the edge of the desk onto the floor before walking out and into the bull pen to take your leave.

Hank was furious, your explosive behaviour was tolerated at home but certainly not in front of his colleagues.

He stood from his desk, stepping over the files to follow after you before reaching out for your upper arm to halt your movement.

"You're not a little girl anymore, you're a grown woman, start acting like it!"

It amused you to know that you'd finally got a reaction out of him, you bit back the smile that started to grow.

"If you have a problem with my behaviour, perhaps you should look at your parenting skills. Children are blank canvas', it's their life experiences that mould who they become."

The tension in the air was thick, several surprised glances shared amongst the team at your boldness.

Grown men with multiple murder charges feared your father, yet you were so unbothered by his presence.

You remained sat in the waiting area of the precinct to wait for an old friend, your knee bouncing in lingering anger as the argument plays on a continuous loop in your mind.

Antonio had coincidentally taken a small break shortly after your heated conversation with Hank, hoping you were still around and in need of comfort.

"Y/N?" He called out as he walked down the last few stairs, your tear stained cheeks visible even from a few feet away.

He motioned you over to an empty room, smiling warmly as he watched you walk over.

"Sit down, let's have a chat.." he said, pulling one of the chairs out from beneath the desk for you to sit.

You hesitantly sat, his kindness wasn't unusual but uncomfortable given what had just happened.

"Everything I said was true. You're welcome to disagree as my dad's friend.." You said defensively, already growing tense as you'd believed Hank had sent him to mediate.

He shook his head in disagreement, offering a small smile of comfort. "I don't agree with everything Hank does, and I understand why you're so angry with him. It can't have been easy.."

You felt oddly comforted by the fact Antonio was unlike the rest, that he didn't rush to Hank's defence like they would.

"It pisses me off that he doesn't see why I'm so angry, it's like I'm the only person that can see what happened between us."

"I see it..believe me, I do."

Antonio used what little break he had to ask you the questions your father never, to find out what truly happened in New York and offer his services should you ever need them once you'd returned.

It was because of Antonio that you'd decided to extend your time in Chicago, his warmth was everything you'd ever craved.

Several days later, you'd revisited the precinct specifically around the time Antonio always left if development on a case was slow.

Trudy let you upstairs on the understanding that you were waiting for Hank to return and you innocently played along.

Your heart skipped an excited beat with each step up to intelligence, you swore it had stopped once you'd finally set eyes on Antonio.

He'd just finished packing up for the day, gorgeously disheveled from the undoubtedly dangerous tasks he'd had.

You confidently walk over, placing both of your hands on the desk in front of him as you leant over it a little.

"Are you busy?" You ask, a mischievous grin appearing as you look up at him.

"Never too busy for you." He replies, winking cheekily.

Your heart fluttered at the sight of his pearly white smile, something snapped inside of you and your confidence skyrocketed.

You walked around his desk, sitting against the edge of it before taking ahold either side of his jacket and pulling him into soft kiss.

Your lips tingled as they met his, your heart painfully bursting like a freshly lit firework.

He gently placed a hand on your shoulder, hesitantly distancing himself before his sympathetic gaze meets yours.

"Sweetheart, we can't.."

You desperately avoided his gaze, both embarrassed and humiliated by his sudden rejection.

If anything it made you insecure, had you read the signals wrong? Perhaps it was the age difference.

You brought a hand up to smooth your arm awkwardly, your sudden lack of confidence brought Antonio nothing but guilt.

"Is it my age? Am I..just not woman enough for you?" You asked timidly, your thumb caressing your own arm in an attempt of self comfort.

Antonio rushed to close the gap between the two of you, his hands taking hold of your face to force your attention back towards him.

"No, no you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met in my entire life, don't you ever doubt that Princesa."

He shook his head slightly, desperate to reassure you and diminish any insecurities.

"You're perfect, and I want you so fucking bad..but I can't." He whispered as he gently rest his forehead against yours, his thumbs softly caressing your cheeks.

You were confused, unable to fully comprehend the reason for his rejection if he felt this way.

"Antonio, I don't understand.." you wrapped your fingers around one of his wrists, you weren't going to let him slip away.

"I can't betray Hank-"

"Are you that scared of him? So scared that you'll deny yourself of what you want?" Partial rage replaced the softness in your voice, you hated the way your father dictated your life.

"It's complicated Y/N..Hank has done a lot for me over the years." He sighed, also feeling the frustration of the restraint he'd put on himself.

"He doesn't have to know." You reply boldly, leaning in to press your lips against his and silence any further denial.

Antonio reciprocated your kiss, rightfully refusing to deny himself any longer.

The kiss at the precinct was one of many shared between the two of you.

You'd waited until Hank was supposedly away for the night before inviting Antonio over, your brief sexual encounters in the back of his car were too uncomfortable to bear.

Your high pitched moans bounced off the walls as he pounded into you relentlessly, you were dazed in the best way possible.

Antonio did start to worry that the neighbours may believe he was hurting you with how loudly you were moaning, or worse that they would report back to Hank and he'd have to face an interrogation at work.

"Fuck, Antonio!" You moaned out, arching your back off the mattress.

The creak of the bedroom door opening halted Antonio's thrusts instantly, both of your heads snapping over at the semi open door.

Antonio's heart dropped at the sight of Hank, his grip on your pillowcase tightened almost painfully.

Your eyes widened at the sight of your disapproving father, your hands frozen on Antonio's biceps as if by some miracle that freezing meant you'd become invisible.

"Dad..I..-"

"Don't you say another word. I want you both dressed and downstairs in the next five minutes, we need to have a little chat." His eery tone caused you to tense up a little, your walls clamping down on Antonio's cock that remained fully inside you.

Antonio let out a hefty sigh once the door had closed, pulling out of you hurriedly as he wondered whether the next few minutes would be his last.

You couldn't help but smirk, seeing Antonio so panicked filled you with amusement.

You pushed yourself to sit up as you watched him rush to dress himself, you were in no hurry at all.

"I'll be lucky if he doesn't cut my dick off." Antonio mumbled, pulling his jacket on before turning to face the mirror to check the collar of his shirt.

You rolled your eyes playfully, throwing the comforter back as you got out of bed to collect your clothes and redress.

"You think I'm gonna let him do that to my man?" You ask, walking over to wrap your arms around his waist lovingly.

"I won't let anything happen to you, Antonio."

The two of you sat beside each other on the couch like a pair of high school sweethearts who await an earful from their conservative parents.

You couldn't help but giggle at the nervous look on Antonio's face, he simply shook his head to signal you to stop.

The brief silence was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a cocked gun, your heart racing as you turned to look at Antonio who was equally as panicked.

"You think I'm gonna let you defile my daughter, Dawson?" Hank asked, stepping into view as he pointed the gun towards Antonio.

Your eyes widened in disbelief as you looked up at your father, immediately rising to your feet to stand in front of Antonio.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You screamed, shoving his hand away fearlessly.

"Get out of the way Y/n." Hank replied calmly, not the slightest bit phased by your fear.

"No!”

You glared up at him, your jaw visibly clenched as you attempt to show no emotion at all.

"Touch him and I swear to god, I will leave and never come back."

Your defiance angered him, he'd come to the conclusion you were purposely trying to get beneath his skin.

"Is this all part of a game? You want attention so you sleep with Antonio?" Hank calmly asked, lowering his gun but his tight grip remained.

"Voight, can we just talk about this?" Antonio asked, peering his head around your waist as your shielding left him no space to get up.

"There's nothing to talk about, Antonio." You reply, glancing down at him before glaring back up at your father.

"This was never about getting your attention. I'm a woman, and threatening people like you did when I was a teenager doesn't fucking work anymore!"

You glanced down at the gun, noticing how white your father's knuckles had become from the tight grip that remained.

"You've crossed a line, both of you." He simply replied, disappointment evident in his eyes.

"I like Antonio, and if you stand in my way..you will never see me again."

Hank knew how alike the two of you were, that you'd never give up on something you wanted to pursue just as he wouldn't.

"If you fucking hurt her, I will ruin your life Antonio. You know I will." Hank said, glancing down at him before recklessly lifting the gun to rub his temple with.

"And keep this shit out of my house. You wanna do anything, you rent a hotel room or go to his house."

Despite the circumstances, you were grateful to your father and his blessing.

Given his history and what you knew he was capable of, you respected that he hadn't taken that approach to Antonio and that itself was enough for you.

#antonio dawson #antonio dawson x reader #chicago pd #hank voight

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