#when i was her age is when shit got way way worse for me and i wound up where i am creatively-in a bad place

[chaotic-mystery]

Code Red | Chapter Twelve: Eyes Like Fire

Dbf!Joel miller x f!oc (told in 2nd POV)

Summary: After Janet finds out about you and Joel, it's finally time to tell Sarah. Can she handle knowing you've been with her dad for over a year?

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Enemies to lovers, dads best friend Joel, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his forties), slow burn, written in 2nd POV, no use of y/n, broken father/daughter relationship, daddy issues, dd/lg relationship dynamic, toxic dynamic between reader and stepmom, name calling, slut shaming,shitty perceptions of reader from dad, physical fight, blood mentioned, a nice morning fuck ruined very quickly by arguing, strong language, choking, p in v, fingering, creampie, kitchen sex, hair pulling.

Authors Note: It's here and so am I. I hope you find comfort in knowing Joel Miller would never let your shitty dad be horrible and would knock his teeth out over you <3 that's all. love you.

|| wc: 5.9k and unbeta'd af || series masterlist || main masterlist || divider by me ||

The music didn’t seem nearly as loud as it did when you first got here. The anxiety washes over your body as you look at the pink camera in your hands, the photo staring right back.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

Your mouth feels dry as it falls slightly open, your watery eyes scanning over everyone before falling onto Joel. 

“I can explain…” 

But you couldn’t. Nothing was coming out. Not a single idea or excuse was coming to mind. Not a fucking thing. 

Janet scoffs and crosses her arms over the ugly floral top she had on. 

“I would just love to hear the excuses you try to feed us this time. Go on, tell everyone how you seduced your fathers best friend and took him from another woman.” Her fake smile only boiled your blood more. 

Joel looks like a deer in headlights, caught between saying something and making it worse or staying silent. 

“I didn’t seduce him and take him from anybody. It just happened.” The crack in your voice from pleading was fueling your anger in the situation. It felt like high school all over again, being humiliated in front of a crowd for someone else's amusement. 

Janet parts the crowd of bodies even wider as she gets closer, just a few feet apart now. 

“Does he even know you slept with his brother? You just can’t help yourself can you? Is this why you came back to Texas, to be a little harlot and sleep with everyone and, in this case, their brother?” 

“I didn’t sleep with his brother you dumb bitch! What, are you jealous I had him in my hand like putty the night I got here and you could never get him in bed with you?” 

Only now did your dad feel like it was time to say what he wanted. Storming over to you closer than Janet was, he didn’t blink as he made himself very clear.

“Don’t you call her a bitch! You will respect her! I didn’t raise you to be that way.” 

It shouldn’t be so surprising your dad just let her get away with calling you almost every name besides the word slut. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt just the same if not more. 

Your head hangs as you feel defeated. Nothing was ever going to change, never. He was too far gone to realize the damage he’s done and he won’t go back now. He’d rather die a coward than try to make amends.

“You raised me? Where were you when I had my final piano recital? Did you take me to any of my doctors appointments? Did you call me on my birthdays? Did you ever have any clothes for me at your house the few summers I came to stay with you? Where were you, Dad? You’re lying to yourself if you think you raised me.”

Groaning as he throws his hands in the air, your dad shakes his head and mutters under his breath a slew of profanities. 

“Here you go with the piano recital again. I was at work, my boss wouldn’t let me leave. You don’t get to make me feel bad about that. Just in case you weren’t aware, a phone works both ways.” 

Joel inches closer and closer until he’s behind you, showing you he’s not going anywhere, not now. He links his pointer finger with yours behind your back and just the small gesture from him makes the lump in your throat grow, feeling like a baseball now. 

“I was a kid…I am a kid. I will always be the kid in the story. I moved with mom and suddenly my siblings and I didn’t matter, not as much as Janet’s kids, right? I’m just supposed to watch you play house with someone else?”

“Their dad up and left town without a word, they needed a father-”

“I needed a father! I needed my father!” There it was. The thing that’s been killing you to say. It felt as if you threw up sewing needles and tar, nonetheless you managed to spit it out. 

“Well you can forget that now. You seduced my best friend, made him break up with his girlfriend, all for what? To get back at me? To punish me? I pity you if this was your way of needing my attention.” He steps closer and you immediately feel like the scared little girl sitting in the corner again, waiting for it to be over. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head to prepare for whatever may come and you feel your hand drop from covering your face, a presence standing in front of you. Like a fucked up version of a prince saving the damsel in distress, there Joel was, swooping in to save you in your most broken down state, shielding you from the big bad dragon licking its chops ready to tear you to pieces. 

“Alan. Think about the next thing you say to her or I will knock your fucking teeth down your throat.” 

Though you couldn’t see his face, you knew he had that look he was giving your dad, the same one he had the first time he saved you from those guys at the bar. 

“Joel you understand, don’t you? You have a daughter.” 

“I do, but I would never in a million years treat her the way you treat yours. Since the day she got here, you put her in my care. Mine-” He pauses to gather himself, the anger about to make him explode. 

“You don’t deserve a daughter like her. You don’t deserve her period. Neither of you assholes do” Joel states harshly before grabbing your hand, leading you back inside to leave. 

“Whatever Joel, you’ll see why she runs away when shit gets tough. She can’t handle it, she’s a scared little bitc-“ 

The crowd of people gasp before you look down and see Janet bent over with her hand cupping her jaw, yelling in pain, blood pouring from her mouth. Your fist was gaining feeling in it before you realized you hit her. 

You hit Janet. 

Joel’s eyes go big and he grabs you once more before getting you out of there as fast as he could, trying to spare you from anything your dad was shouting as he helped Janet to her feet. 

He opens the driver's side door and tosses your purse inside on the passenger seat before stepping aside to let you in. “I’ll meet you at home. Go on, be safe. I’m right behind you, baby. Right behind you.” 

You start your car and pull off quickly, Joel’s truck tailing you closely.. The radio was blasting your Deftones CD from earlier, Hole In the Earth just making the tears fall right out of your eyes. Digging in your purse to grab a cigarette, you light the end of it before taking a deep inhale, your mind already replaying what happened. 

It all happened so fast. One minute you were with Joel and having a decent time and then before you knew it, you were looking down at your bloody knuckles wrapped around your steering wheel. You pull into Joel's driveway and turn your car off, the cigarette just about finished when he comes to your car door and opens it. 

“Come on, baby. Let’s go inside.”

”Joel what did I do? Genuinely…what did I do?” The mascara that once coated your eyelashes only hours ago was now staining your cheeks, creating streaks down your neck. 

He squats down and you hear his knees crack, muffled by his jeans.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart. One day he’ll see the damage he’s caused but by then it’ll be too late. Sometimes the hardest way to heal ourselves is to let go of the people we want to keep close, even if that hurts more.” 

Joel doesn’t say anything more as he lets you mince over his words that he only hopes to help you in some way. Getting out of the car, you walk to his front door with the keys tucked between your fingers as if you were Wolverine ready to attack someone or something. 

“Do you still have that sandbag in the garage?” 

“Y-yeah, it’s over in the corner.” 

He walks you through the house to the garage and flips the light on, pointing to the red colored sack right in the corner where he said it was. 

You take off the copious amount of rings scattered across your fingers and put them in his hand before making your way to the sandbag, throwing your tightly closed fist back before it makes contact with the plastic covering of the bag. 

Over and over, you hit the bag to release all the anger and frustration you harbor inside your body, a guttural scream clawing out of your throat to echo off the walls. All the bullshit your dad and Janet have said to you over the last year circling your brain, only causing your screams to get louder. At this moment, you didn’t care what Joel thought about any of this. You didn’t care how you looked in his eyes. You needed this for you and unfortunately Joel’s sandbag was the temporary solution. 

Feeling your knees get weaker with every punch becoming softer than the last, you fall to the floor and soon enough Joel comes behind you, rubbing your back and unsure of what to say. Joel picks you up off the floor and takes you inside to the bathroom, leaning you against the sink as he drowns your knuckles in peroxide to clean them thoroughly. 

“Don’t ever let someone get leverage over your emotions again, understand?” Joel didn’t sound angry or as if he was giving you a lecture, it was more like a lesson for next time and he was right. Janet got under your skin, exactly what she wanted. She wanted your dad to see you in a worse light than he already did. She wanted you to lose your cool. 

You stare at the floor still feeling uneasy and raging inside but once more you tuck away the ugly part of you and start to plan. 

-

“So you clocked her?” Tommy laughs and shovels eggs into his mouth and you look up at him from under your hood, grinning at how impressed he was until Joel shook his head. 

“Tommy…stop.” 

Your grins drop at the serious tone from Joel. 

“What, man? I’m just sayin’ I’m glad someone finally hit that bitch, she’s insane. Very proud of you, kid.” Tommy holds out for a fist bump and you drop your fork to meet him halfway. 

“I don’t think hitting her is something we need to be bumpin’ fists over. This shit is nowhere near over, you do know that? For all of us? I knew I should’ve moved to the fuckin’ mountains when I had the chance.” 

Your brows furrow slightly as you swallow dryly, Tommy trying to lighten the mood after Joel’s grumpy testament. 

“Aren’t you glad you stuck around though?” Tommy smiles and bites off more than he can handle of his pancakes. 

Waving your hand to dismiss Joel’s attitude, you turn to face him more and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“He’s not going to do anything, okay? Most that’ll come out of this is that he’ll never speak to me again which I don’t mind. He’ll forgive you because somehow that makes sense in his brain, and Janet will continue being a hateful cunt. We’ll be fine, baby. Promise.”

You hold your pinky out for Joel to hook his around and squeeze but he continues to shove a cut piece of potato in his mouth. He could never say no to those puppy dog eyes you make when you wanted to get your way with him. 

“Such a brat, you know that?” He huffs and tucks his chubby pinky around yours, holding tightly before pulling you close for a gentle kiss, when you hear the beginning guitar strums playing over the diner speakers above your head. You wrap your arms around Joel’s bicep and lean your head on him, looking out the window to your left as the sunlight pokes through the blue gingham curtains.

Graceless lady, you know who I am

You know I can't let you slide through my hands

Wild horses couldn't drag me away

Wild horses couldn't drag me away

Humming the melody softly while Joel and Tommy talk and finish their food, your mind begins to race with ideas and maybe solutions to this issue. What if you left Texas? Find somewhere new to start over and get away from your dad for good. It wasn’t a total mistake moving back here because had you not, you would’ve never met Joel. There was too much wrapped into this now and running was the coward's way out. Texas was big enough for the both of you to be here, right?

-

Filling your lungs with a big breath, you open Joel’s front door to see him and Sarah in the kitchen getting dinner ready to be served. You’d be lying if you said your heart wasn’t beating in your throat, scared of how you were going to tell her you’d been seeing her dad for the last year, sneaking around like a pair of teenagers. Figured you shouldn’t smoke a cigarette before this, good impressions and all that shit. The breakfast from earlier was long gone by this point and you were too anxious to feel hungry.

“I didn’t know you were coming! Love the dress by the way, very you” Sarah says kindly, giving you a smile that somewhat resembles Joel’s.

“Thank god, I was wondering if it went with my boots or not.” You bend your leg behind you to show her your black boots, earning a nod from her for your outfit. So far so good. 

You finally look at Joel and see him leaned against the kitchen sink with his arms crossed over his chest, silently taking in the small interaction between you two. Your breath catches and your nerves ramp up just seeing him in his black t-shirt with the daintiest gold chain hanging from his neck. 

“Anything I can help with?” You ask and set your phone on the counter with your purse tucked away on the stool by the countertop. 

“If you wanna carry the salad to the table, that’d be good. Dad can carry the rest” Sarah chimes in and hurriedly grabs the plates with the silverware banging against the top, rushing you into the dining room so Joel’s left to handle the main course. 

You set the wooden bowl down off center of the table, leaving enough room for Joel to empty his hands and Sarah walks in circles as she arranges each place setting. 

“Baby, can you sit in my seat this time, please?” Joel asks as he points Sarah into the chair he’s talking about, meaning he wants each of you to be on either side of her when you tell her. 

Thanks, Joel. 

She looks at him confused and plops down in the seat, not understanding yet. 

“Why are you being so weird today, Dad?”

You take another deep breath and look at Joel before he sits down and looks at Sarah.

“Well, there’s something I wanna talk to you about and I want you to be honest how it makes you feel, alright?” His tongue pokes out from behind his teeth and grazes over his lips, his arms moving slightly indicating he was rubbing his hands together anxiously under the table.

She nods and you sit down in the chair next to her, sitting straight as a board, almost scared to make a move.

“I’ve been seeing someone for a little over a year now and I wanted to be sure about it before I told you. I know it’s been you and I for as long as you can remember and I feel like we’re in a good enough place to share it with you, sweetheart.” Joel extends his hand across the table and wiggles his fingers, wanting you to hold his hand. 

Sarah immediately looks at you, taking in every square inch of you, sizing you up as she’s processing the news. It was almost too painful to breathe, like you were under a microscope being examined for everything. Your dress was suddenly too tight, your sock was slouching down from your boot yanking on it, everything was too much. 

“It’s about time you told me.” The smirk on her face was the needle you needed to burst your anxiety balloon sitting inside your chest.

Joel’s head drops for a few seconds and it’s upright again, eyes fixed on his daughter.

“Sarah Miller, what the hell are you talking about?” 

“First, swear jar. Second, I found her picture in your room the other day when I was looking for some lunch money.”

Your brows furrow and his face turns red.

“Picture? What picture?” you chime in, confused about what she’s talking about. 

“I dunno, you’re holding some cake with peeps on it.” 

Your mind swirls around for what feels like forever as you try to recall when he took that photo from your dads house. How did he go this long without you realizing he had it? It almost brings a tear to your eye to know how loved you truly are by Joel, the fact he’d steal that in the off chance he’d get caught. 

“I know the one. How do you feel about all this, Sarah?” 

She looks between the pair of you and shrugs, toying with her cup in front of her plate.

“I don’t know, I guess it’s weird in a way. I mean, it’s really only been my dad and I so it’ll take some time getting used to it but I like you and I think you’re really good for him. I mean, between us two, he stopped wearing socks with holes in them, so I think you’re influencing him well.” 

Joel purses his lips and gives Sarah an unamused look. 

You two burst out laughing at him and he lets go of your hand to start passing around dinner. 

“Alright, I can see how this is gonna be. Already getting ganged up on by my girls.” 

It was comforting knowing she was okay with you being with him. Every place in your life you felt like you didn’t belong, like you were a ghost floating around to find your purpose or the one little sliver of the universe that’s yours. 

Who knew it would be at the Millers house back in the one state you tried to run from for so long? 

“And Sarah-“ Joel swallows his bite of food before continuing, “stop going in my room when I’m not home.” 

-

The clock on the microwave showed fifteen minutes before midnight and Sarah was passed out in her bed upstairs, Joel tucked away on his couch with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Baby..? Are you asleep?” 

He doesn’t move and you sit up more to see his eyes closed, head down slightly.

“Joel” you whisper and softly nudge him awake, “cmon, let’s go to bed.” 

“I wasn’t asleep, I was watching TV. I’m not even tired” he says in a groggy voice trying to put on an act.

“Yeah right, I highly doubt you know what Mike Rowe is doing on Dirty Jobs. Let’s go, chief.” 

You hold out your hand to help him up and he follows you upstairs across the hall from Sarah’s room, the streetlight cascading in behind her purple curtains. 

Joel shuts the white painted door behind him and locks it, immediately shedding out of his clothes down to his underwear. Looking around you scratch your head and debate going back home for a moment just to grab pajamas, not that there’s anything wrong with borrowing Joel’s clothes, you’d just rather not sleep like Pooh bear the first night with a full house. 

“Gotcha something on my way home, go look in the bathroom.” 

You turn on your heel to look at him curiously and slowly make your way into his en suite bathroom, noticing the new pair of pajamas folded nicely on the sink in your favorite color. 

The buttery smooth satin under your fingertips makes you smile at the thoughtful gesture of him buying these for you, knowing you can’t resist a good pj set. 

“You mind if I shower, actually?” you poke your head out from the bathroom and see Joel in bed with the TV on and he meets your gaze, shaking his head no and giving you a smile. 

“Do whatever you want, baby. Whatever makes you feel at home.” 

And you did just that. The extra hot water ran over your skin as you washed yourself clean, soaking in the day and everything that’s come from it. It would be over in just a few short minutes and a new day would start but this one would stick with you for a while. 

When you get out of the shower and get dressed, you open the bathroom door and the cool air hits your damp skin. Soft snores come from Joel asleep in his bed, laying on his tummy facing your direction. 

“Yeah, not tired my ass.” 

You climb in bed next to him as if you’d wake him up with one move but realistically it wouldn’t faze him one bit. Getting adjusted, you listen to the TV as you look out his bedroom window, mind too busy to sleep. The train going over the tracks in the distance blows its horn, Joel stirring in his sleep to pull you against his chest tightly. 

-

Waking up the next morning in Joel’s bed, face down and tangled in his sheets, you feel the emptiness beside you and yawn tiredly as you sit up, looking around his room in the daylight. 

It was cozy, not nearly as messy as yours, but cozy. Photos of him and Sarah tacked to the walls with push pins, random piles of loose change on his dresser, his watch resting on top of a small stack of books, everything seeming to have a place. 

You walk softly down the stairs, carefully trying to see where everyone’s at. Small flips of pages come from the kitchen and you find Joel’s back facing you, the steam from his coffee rising over his shoulder before disappearing in air. 

He sighs in relief when you lean against him and kiss his neck tenderly, wrapping your right arm around his front, keeping him as close as you can. 

“Morning sweetheart. Saved you some coffee if you want it.” 

“Where’s Sarah?” You ask, biting his neck before releasing him from your hold and sitting next to him in the wooden chair. 

“She and Tommy went to the mall so she can hang out with her friends. She says i'm too embarrassing to chaperone them or somethin’ like that.” 

You toy with your cigarette box and debate going outside to have a smoke out on the back patio. 

“Baby I love you, but I one hundred percent understand why she wouldn’t want her dad coming with to the mall. It’s a teenage thing, ya know? I was like that with my mother.”

He rubs his sock covered foot against your leg tenderly, “Yeah you’re right. I didn’t want to go anyway to tell you the truth. Tommy can be responsible for a bunch of teenagers for a day.”

Giggling at the fake amusement in his voice, you walk to the cupboard and pour yourself some coffee and turn around, feeling a set of eyes burning into your head.

‘Why are you staring at me, weirdo?” The hot liquid coats your throat and it feels nice, the itch of wanting that cigarette dying a little. 

Joel gets up from the chair and plants himself in front of you, lips attacking your neck before giving you time to react. 

“What’s the matter, I can’t look at my girlfriend? hm?” he inquires playfully, not really expecting you to answer.

The once sweet kisses turn rough and he pins your arms above your head against the light stained wood, digging into your skin firmly with each breath he steals between kisses. You moan softly and inch closer to him until your fronts are sandwiched together, begging for a little bit of friction. If you could get paid to stay home with him and fuck his brains out, you’d be a billionaire by now.

“Not when you stare, no’’ you breathlessly reply.

“Too bad, you’re fucking beautiful so I’m gonna stare.” His freehand comes up to the crown of your head and grabs firmly on a chunk of your hair, as close to the root as he can, just to give a reassuring pull that he was there and he meant every word he was saying. 

You lock your ankles together around his body and start grinding against the semi soft bulge in his pants, the head of his cock nudging your clit that was already throbbing. 

“Right here in the kitchen? That's where you want it, sweet girl?” 

Joel wraps his bulky arms around you tightly, so desperate to feel your body on his. Quickly taking the opportunity, you slip your pants and panties down to your ankles, looking at his dark brown eyes as you rest your head against the cupboard, letting his hands roam all over your body, admiring as if you were the most beautiful piece of art he’d ever seen.

“Look at me when you slip it in, okay? I wanna see you go to heaven.” 

A devious smile grows on his face and he puts his middle and ring finger in your mouth, pushing against your tongue to make you close around him, getting his fingers coated with saliva. Like two magnets finding their way again, you feel those same fingers that were in your mouth now on your clit, the arousal being added to the mix. 

“You are so goddamn beautiful. An absolute angel. Look at me baby, right here, okay? Look at me.” 

Joel smacks the head on your aching cunt before dipping inside, your eyebrows furrowing in pleasure, so confused how sex could feel so good, so addicting.

“Oh my fucking god, Joel. Go slow, go slow” you pant, rubbing his sides as a guide for him like he needed it. 

“You’re taking it so well, sweetheart. So wet for me too, that’s it. Come here” he says before kissing you deep, tongue immediately pushing its way into your mouth to touch yours. His entire cock was inside you and pumping slowly at first, gaining speed with each kiss shared.

As soon as he kissed you like that, you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle much. Something about him fucking you so deep and slow and kissing you so sloppy made your head spin and your knees turn to jelly. You whine his name on his lips, nails digging into his back the harder he pressed into you. 

“Just like that, baby. Fuck me just like that-fuck-like that.” Your breathing matches each other and his hand digs into your hip, pinning you right in your spot so you couldn’t run from the fucking you were getting.

“Yeah you like that, honey? I know I know I know-” he coos teasingly before continuing between groans, “I know you like when I fuck you hard. What if I put my hand right here and squeeze, that turns you on more when daddy chokes you?” Joel’s hand wraps firmly around your neck and applies light pressure while he continues to thrust harder inside. 

Your broken moans serve as an answer to him which in return makes him moan louder, driving him crazy knowing how much power he has over you when you’re like this. The way you give yourself up to him and give him control, the trust being so apparent, quite frankly it could make him come just thinking about it.

His thick fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing tight circles to keep you whining for more. It was like you were drowning but you didn’t mind, you wanted more pressure in your lungs, you needed it. Pressing your damp forehead to his and feeling both hands on your hips now, you try to tell him you were going to come but he shoves his fingers in your mouth, gagging you to silence.

“Come with me baby, give it to me. Give me all of it, right now. Be good for daddy and come with me” he whispers, pressing lazy kisses to your temple while you shatter on his arms, crying out his name as you shake and buck your hips from the overwhelming ecstasy taking over your body.

Joel gives a few more thrusts and you feel him pulsing inside you as he comes, grabbing a fistful of your hair once more to give a squeeze as he fills you up. You kiss him deeply again, your lips muffling his swears and grunts of your name, the two of you trying to calm down and bask in the moment as much as you could. 

Just as you break apart and look at him, his phone rings.

At least they waited until after you got fucked.

Joel shuffles to the table as he pulls his underwear up and looks at the screen, hesitating to answer. 

“What do you want?” 

Seconds go by without Joel saying a word and you still are clueless as to who it is. Hopping off the counter carefully and getting dressed once more, you walk over and wrap yourself in his arm with your head resting on his chest, the steady thumps of his heart calming you like a lullaby. 

“I don’t think it’s a good time for you to come over right now, she’s not in the mood and neither am I to be frank.”

Bashfully looking at him, you start to worry who it is.

“Fine, you can talk to me but you aren’t saying a word to her, that’s the deal. Take it or leave it Alan.”

Now it starts to make sense. 

Joel tosses the phone back on the table after hanging up and sighs in frustration.

“He wants to come talk to you?” 

“I guess, not sure what about but I’ll entertain this idea he has. I won’t let him go near you, okay? I promise.”

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip softly as you nod and pats your ass to get this shitshow moving along.

“Just stay in my room and don’t come out until I get you. It’ll be fine. I’m not above hitting anyone over you.”

 Glaring at him humorless and turning on your heel, you head upstairs and stop halfway, taking Joel’s bait.

“But when I hit someone it’s not okay?” you ask a little more sarcastically than you wanted. You stop at the top of the stairs and cross your arms, giving him a side eye. 

“I just didn’t have any bail money on me, baby.” The shit eating grin on his face just irritates you more and you want to wipe it right off. 

Stomping your feet the rest of the way to his room and slamming the door behind you, you flop onto his bed and groan loudly into the pillows. It was clearly no surprise you were upset with your dad once again ruining another day for you and Joel, it was almost more shocking when he left you alone for more than twenty-four hours.

-

“I just don’t know what you expect from me Alan! I’ve stuck by you for years and never once did you tell me about her. You’re embarrassed of her and everything she is, admit it.”

The raised voices wake you up from the small nap you apparently took and your body starts to get that feeling. You know, the one where you shiver uncontrollably even though you aren’t cold and nothing makes sense, nothing feels safe. You get out of his bed and manipulate the door handle just right to open silently so you can sneak out and listen over the railing of the stairs. 

“I’m not embarrassed by her, she’s my kid. Mine. I don’t agree with everything she’s done and how she’s lived, but she’s my blood.” His words make you sick as he always says the same shit he always did. Blood wasn’t starting to hold much weight to you anymore. 

“She’s your flesh and blood but you sit there with your wife and tear her down until she’s nothing but a shell of herself. You dim her light to satisfy that guilty feeling of not being present. She came here to start over, to fix any last shred of a relationship she could have with you and you fucked it up.”

The room falls silent and you don’t move a muscle, afraid someone would hear you and know you were eavesdropping. 

“I didn’t fuck this up. She did; by getting with you. She lied to you and brought you to my ex who’s even better at manipulating people, and now you’re brainwashed just like them. She never called me when she was living with her mother and a phone works both ways. I’ve always tried to teach her that, Joel. She’s hardheaded and she’s selfish. Do you know how much money I’ve spent on her since she was born? She never went to college, she doesn’t talk to her sister, probably because she’s jealous of the life she created for herself and her kids. She’s just lost right now and buddy, I’d hate to see you get hurt because of her. She’s a child.”

Your stomach was turning and you at some point covered your mouth with your hand to silence your crying. Joel's boots shuffle on the floor and you hear a door, probably the one leading outside the house. 

“Get out. Now. She’s better off without you, she won’t lose sleep over not having whatever this was you were trying to be for her. Don’t contact her again and don’t come around here badmouthing her in front of me unless you have a serious wish to spend a couple nights in the hospital. We’re done. Now, get the fuck out of my house.” Joel’s tone was something you’ve never heard before, it was kind of scary if you were being honest.

Your dad scoffs and you can hear more shuffling. “Listen-”

“NOW!” Joel yells.

Flinching at the sudden outburst of anger, your heart rattles inside your chest as it did when your parents used to fight when you were younger.

You sit on the landing and place your feet on the stairs below it, in disbelief at what you just heard.

He slams the front door shut and curses loudly before walking to the stairs and stopping as soon as he sees you sitting there silently. Joel runs a hand through his hair and over his face before moseying up and sitting a few steps further from you, his arm draped over your lap. 

“You know I don’t believe anything he ever says, right?” 

“I know, I just don’t think I should stay here anymore.” You fiddle with your thumbs trying not to look at him.

“Baby I understand if you want some space and want to go back home, I’m not that far away.” His attempts at jokes are noted and appreciated but you couldn’t shake this feeling. 

“No, Joel. I mean Texas. I need to go.”

[arolesbianism]

Yet another beautiful day to have the Maxwel tag blocked (can't see half of the posts in the Wendy tags)

[marsixm]

one of my best friends is like 6 years younger than me and really embodies a shitposting ethos of art like she’s just constantly making shit she is cringe but she is free she will make shit based on some random thing she’s really passionate about and god i’m so envious of that but also deeply inspired

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

i kinda wanna make a critical post about Some Notable People not speaking up and outright endorsing anyone this election but i also know that it probably wouldn't've changed very much and therefore 'doesn't matter' but actually, yes, it does matter because it sets a good precedent. and besides. why would they be out there hyping obama or even biden the fuck up but then talking about voting harris in hushed voices. like it's probably a mix of misogyny and just plain old liberal democrat cowardice. because i KNOW these People probably don't care that much about any differences in their policies, at least not significantly enough for it to seem unreasonable to hype up harris as the better choice.

[shararan]

On one hand it's nice not to be the only one suffering, but on the other hand it's hard not to feel angry about having to watch your loved ones also suffering needlessly without being able to do anything. But then yet again having grown up with a homebound disabled mom definitely played a huge role in being able to recognize that the fault lies not with me re: disability and discrimination, which has helped with dealing with bureaucracy throughout the years.

[hybridirl]

i’ve never done this before…

18 + only, please!

ellie x f!loser!reader

a/n: so basically i was on janitor ai because i’m genuinely an addicted freak and this was inspired by a chat i had :3 im also replaying tlou2 bc i cant stop i need it i need it i need it. also i think a LOT more things make sense now, so i think you should replay after u play it.

brief summary: ellie is ur big sister’s best friend! but, unfortunately you’re dubbed an “annoying little sister,” your sister’s not home, ellie’s high when she comes over, and ur a loser nerd who can’t deal with confrontation :(. (au if it wasn’t obvious!)

tw / DUBCON?, ellie is very mean, degrading, praise, pet names, reader is a virgin, small age gap if you really squint, porn without a plot, rushed sex, scissoring (tribbling?), use of y/n i think…

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚

with a grunt, you pulled your pajama pants up the rest of the way. you were headed to the door after hearing seven hard knocks on the door.

“hello—“ you began, cutting yourself off when you see ellie, your sister’s best friend. “ellie?” you glanced behind her, then behind yourself. “she’s not home right now.”

“yeah, yeah,” she slurred, and your lips went into a thin line from her state, so obviously intoxicated. “she told me come ‘n wait. she’s gettin’ her shit rocked, ‘r whatever. she dropped me off ‘ya know? said you wouldn’t mind. you don’ mind, do you?”

being such a caring person had its ups and downs. you weren’t fond of ellie, and she wasn’t fond of you. she had been your biggest bully throughout the entirety of middle and high school. but, you couldn’t deny her entry. she could get hurt or worse, and you didn’t want that. or to be responsible of it.

you adjusted your glasses, eyeing her with a thoughtful look. her eyes were halflidded, red, and she smelled disgusting. she eyed you right back, her stare almost intimidating.

“no, ellie. i don’t mind,” you said begrudgingly, stepping aside to allow her in. you watched her make her way around the all-too-familiar home while you shut the door. you mentally prepared yourself for tending to her needs; you knew she’d tell if you hadn’t. you also prepared for the anger she would inevitably feel. she was an angry person when intoxicated. you leaned against the door and watched her opened the fridge.

“what do you got?” ellie asked, shutting the refrigerator and looking at you. “what’re you gonna make?”

“i don’t know,” you responded and took a glance at the stove. you hadn’t noticed what she took from the fridge, only gasping when you heard the familiar sound of a beer opening. “hey, hey, hey! that’s my dad’s!” you watched ellie shrug and give you a “so what?” look. “stop it, that’s not good for you!” you rushed over, reaching for the beer, but her rough hand kept you in place as she chugged it down. “ellie, stop! you’re already high, that’s gonna make it worse; ellie, stop!”

“and what the fuck do you know?” she asked as she slammed the beer bottle of the counter, “you stupid fuckin’ loser, what the fuck is wrong with you? i’ll do what-the-fuck-ever i want. you’re such a fucking lame-ass, you won’t even take a lil sip o’ this thing,” she stuck the beer can up to your mouth, which you turned away from, “that’s what i thought, you stupid bitch. you’re probably a virgin, too, huh? you don’t even try- nobody even tries for you. no man, no woman, no whatever. never been in a relationship, never been in fuckin’ nothing. you are such a fucking loser.”

your jaw was slack, almost looking like a fish out of water as it tried to shut and open.

“you’re too high for this,” you said slowly, still shocked at her words. you took a step back, your back pressing against the island counter.

“you don’t know the first thing about ‘too high,’ jackass. bet you never had a dick in you before. too busy studyin’ your stupid fucking books to be the good girl you are. can’t even do this because you’re always bein’ a teacher’s pet, always bein’ a goody-two-shoes, know it all, fucking bitch. probably got a few toys like the desperate freak you are. maybe a dildo? nah, you want that pussy t’stay tight, huh?” you thought it couldn’t get worse than the insults before, but this was insane. your eyes were wide, shock filling your features.

“ellie!” you gasped in horror and embarrassment, “i— i’m calling my sister!”

“you’re a fucking snitch!” she giggled, pointing at you. “she doesn’t care what the fuck i’m saying to you. she’s too busy slutting herself out to give a fuck about your pathetic ass, baby.”

“go away, ellie,” you whimpered out, eyes at the ground. you attempted to push past her, but her hands gripped your wrists. “please.”

“you’re not getting rid of me,” she growled, her beer-breath filling your nostrils, “you’re a goddamn joke. i’m not going anywhere ‘til i’m good ‘n ready. you just know i’m right.” she leaned in, her lips brushing your cheek as she whispered deep into your ear, “you just want my hands all over you, don’t you, y/n? i’ve seen how you watched me. you want a real woman’s hands on ‘ya. all of over your pretty body, hm?”

“no,” you whispered right back, your brows furrowed. this was your sister’s best friend. this was just… wrong; you couldn’t explain it, but it wasn’t right. and she was high! she didn’t know what she was doing, what she was saying, but her touch felt so…

“don’t you lie to me,” she huffed her breath hot in your ear, “you wanna get touched bad. you know you do. you want my hands slidin’ down your pretty panties and touchin’ that clit. make you cum all on my hand. you want that, don’t you?”

“ellie,” you almost moaned out at her dirty talk, your brows knitted together in conflict. your hand went to cover your mouth as her hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pjs and simultaneously your underwear.

“let it out, baby,” she told as your hand muffled a broken moan, “you’re already so, so wet for me. this pussy’s just beggin’ for my touch, huh?” her finger-pad ran across your clit and your knees buckled. she giggled in response, a lazy grin plastered on her face. “mm, ya feel that? this’s what y’ve been missin’ out on with all that nerdy bullshit you do.” her fingers slipped easily inside you, making your eyes roll with pleasure; another moan escaped your throat. “y’so tight. just like i thought.” she pulled her fingers out, quickly giving them a lick before tugging your bottoms down. “oh, baby…” she moaned at the sight, licking her lips as she took you in. “look at that pretty pussy. mhm, ‘n all f’r me, huh?” she knelt down, getting face to face with your cunt. “answer me.” she kissed at your inner thighs. all you could do was watch, trembling under her dominating touch.

you yelped, jumping in surprise as she bit your thigh harshly.

“i said answer.”

“y-yes! all for you, ‘s all for you,” you whimpered, whining as her mouth finally met with your drooling pussy. your resolve had slipped away, only thinking about that needy, touch-starved vulva of yours. “oh, ellie…” she grinned as she watching you come undone, your fingers slipping into her hair and tugging at it. she lapped and lapped at your clit, tongue running circles around the sensitive bud. she gave it a last kiss before she pulled away, smirking at your distress.

“preview, baby. all that was. go to your room, m’followin’ you.”

you were anxious to walk, taking just a moment before giddily rushing to your room. the masculine woman easily followed your direction, shutting the door hard behind her as she pulled you down to the bed with her. her hands were immediately on you as you lay atop her, caressing and running down your back, cupping your ass and squeezing.

“you’re so ready for me baby, aren’t you?” she asked with a small smirk playing at her lips. “you wanna grind that pretty pussy on mine, don’t you?”

“i-i’ve never done this before, i-i don’t know what to do,” you admitted, although she already knew your circumstance.

“makin’ me do all the work, you pretty lil pillow princess?” she teased, that same lazy grin on her face. she easily flipped you over, watching your eyes widen in surprise. “god, how are you so perfect…” she moaned softly to herself, her hands running down your sides, down your legs, and down your calves. she reached her jeans, unbuttoning them and tugging them down quickly. you gulped as you eyed her pubic mound, her dark hair trimmed finely.. she lifted your hips up, appreciating your vulva once more. she used her thumb to lift up your clitoral hood, bending down to meet the pearl with her tongue. “mm, god, i can’t get enough of you. pull your shirt up, wanna see those tits ‘ve been wantin’ to see.” you did as you were told, quickly pulling your nightshirt up and showing her your breasts. a groan left her throat as her hands reached out to touch them, tweaking and rolling your nipples between her fingers.

“please,” you whined, your head tilted back. “please, ellie…”

“oh, i know you’re so needy, huh? never done this before? never been touched so good by another girl b’fore, huh?” ellie teased once more, and all you could do was nod. it was all true. “say it, baby. tell me how much of a loser you are.”

with an embarrassed grimace, you obliged, “i-i’m a big loser. ‘ve never, ever gotten laid ‘n i wanna… oh!” you gasped as you felt the sensation of her pussy meet yours. “ellie…” her hips ground against yours, your clits bumping and running across each other.

“you like this? my pussy all over yours?” she growled, rolling her hips to meet your cunt. “fuck, you’re so wet.” you moaned out, your hands trying to find a place to stay as they flailed. they gripped the sheets and you watched above as her pussy slid across yours. you both glistened with a thin layer of sweat, your bodies becoming hot with arousal. “you feel so fucking good.”

“yes,” you cried, “more.” and she gave you more, her hips rolling with fervor while you writhed in pleasure. “p-please— ellie!”

“yeah, scream my name you little slut,” she purred, her auburn hair sticking to her sweaty face. “let ‘em know— let the neighbors know you’re finally getting laid.”

you continued to moan her name, completely drunk on this feeling. she let out small little ‘just like that’s’ as your voice echoed off the walls of your room.

it was intense, your bodies moving together and so perfectly in sync. sweat dripped from her forehead onto your belly, slightly coating your skin. her hands gripped your chest as she ground against you, the position slightly awkward, but pleasing nonetheless as your heats mushed together in symphony. sloppy squelches filled your ears, almost drowned out by your moans and cries as she took you.

“i’m gonna,” you began, tears welling up in your pretty eyes, “i’m gonna cum, ellie!”

“yeah? right on my pussy? cum right on my pussy, baby,” she moaned, her hands reaching her cup her own breast. you moaned, following her command like a dog as your canal contracting around nothing, costing her slick folds in all your essence. your body convulsed as you came, and the sight forced a moan out of her throat. “yeah, that’s it, my good girl, fu—ck… i’m cumming!” with her orgasm following in suit, she gripped your leg hard, riding out her orgasm as you tried to come down from your own. you whined from the overstimulation, feeling her arousal spread out on your flesh. she shushed you, her index finger on your lips as she calmed her breathing. she dropped your leg, plopping beside you with a grunt.

“t-that was good,” you said to her, your eyes lingering on her glistening face.

“mhm, now you get to brag to a—ll your nerdy, little virgin friends that you,” she jabbed a finger, “got laid.”

“you’re mean,” you huffed, a little pout on your face. she smirked, bringing a hand to the back of your neck and bringing you in to kiss.

“yeah?” she chuckled, “but you like it.”

[kedsandtubesocks]

Mr. Winter

Santa!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: you wrote that letter to Santa as a joke (knowing he obviously wouldn’t answer it) until he does - and he comes with a proposition

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, marriage of convenience, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but is a drinking aged adult & Joel is older), yearning, fluff with light angst, grumpy but sweetheart!Joel, caregiver!Joel with slight sugar daddy!Joel vibes, brief moments of dealing with toxic family, Joel lifts reader once with his Santa strength, spicy thoughts, heavy making out, fingering, glove & finger sucking, use of “good girl,” Joel’s dirty talk & referring to himself as “old man,” one light ass smack, reader wears lingerie, Santa!kink (?), use of gendered language

word count: 9.1k (I’m sorry)

a/n: yeah… hi lol this is heavily influenced and based off “The Santa Clause” films but you don’t need to know those to read - biggest thank you to my favorite enablers & Santa’s cutest helpers @pedgito & @hauntedhowlett ily…also happy holidays, if you’re reading this I can’t thank you enough & hope a little magic comes your way ♡ divider credit to the ever talented @saradika-graphics

You wrote the dumb letter at the end of the semester class party. You’re thankful everyone decided to write papers instead of having a final, a grad school blessing, which meant class was done by the last week of November. Your professor even had set up the cutest Letters to Santa Station, and your friend begged you to write one with her.

So you did.

And you jokingly asked Santa for one thing - to send you a boyfriend.

Of course you know the big guy isn’t real and wouldn’t ever answer. It’s why you didn’t think much of it.

But now, if there’s any hope Santa could be real, you wonder if maybe he could just grant you one small wish…

You’re happy for your best friend, you truly are. Her wedding reception is beautiful, you just need a moment.

It finally hit you that you’re the last of your friend group not married. And as the cozy colder winter days bring in the couples closer during the slow song, you simply take a moment outside to collect yourself.

The once warmed spiked hot chocolate you’ve been enjoying now sits cold, not so festive.

Someone calls to you, says your name in a thick southern molasses smooth accent you don’t recognize.

Turning to the door, you definitely don’t know who this man is because you would have remembered someone this stunning.

Dressed down in some jeans and a sharp looking blazer, there’s almost a cowboy like air to this man. Rugged, older with lovely streaks of wrinkles and shining grey hair, a gorgeous sharp hawk nose, and dark as the deep earth eyes stare at you - he’s flat out gorgeous.

“Got your letter.” He cryptically announces, and confusion clusters in you.

This handsome stranger lifts up the overly festive candy cane colored envelope, the one you picked at the party a few days ago when you wrote your letter to Santa.

Slightly panicked, now you question who this man is.

The mystery man fidgets, painting him younger. He shifts to put his hands on his hips.

“Alright… there ain’t no easy way to put this, so imma just say it.” He starts. “I got many names… Father Christmas, Ol’ Saint Nick. Shit like that.”

Those dark unearthed eyes stare unflinching at you.

“But you can call me Joel.”

“Wait…What are you saying?” Bewilderment and skepticism bubble in your voice.

He sighs, ancient and tired, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Don’t make me say it.” He grumbles.

“Wait are you saying you’re like, fucking Santa Claus or something?” You can’t even believe it.

His large hand moves away from his face, and the man, Joel, stays silent. The somber stillness makes this feel worse.

A disbelief filled laugh escapes you.

“Yeah okay, nice try.” You lift your drink to him, a slight mock cheers, then take a sip. It’s cold as hell and tastes bitter.

“I know it sounds fucking crazy as shit-”

“The Santa I know wouldn't cuss.” You playfully cut him off deciding to now embrace this joke.

His face grows foul, hard with a frown, not so very Kris Kringle like. With deliberate steps he moves slightly closer to you.

“Two years ago… who d’ya think dropped off that snow globe, huh?” His voice dips low, bordering a deadly seriousness, and you inhale sharp.

Two years ago, you and your mom’s favorite snow globe shattered. It felt silly getting so upset over such a strange object, but you couldn’t find a replacement anywhere.

Then after everyone had opened their gifts and family had left, you spotted a lone gift still tucked away hidden under the tree.

It was the snow globe, new and perfectly wrapped. You know you didn’t get it for your mom and the way she teared up, she didn’t get it for you. None of your other family members knew the significance of it.

“It has to be a Christmas miracle,” your mom had said. You didn’t believe it.

Now you stare a bit horrified and in shock at the man who knows about this.

Silence suffocates the air between you and him.

“Make a reindeer show up.” You blurt out.

The man, Joel, snorts dry and amused.

“Don’t need reindeer. S’a myth.” He replies low.

Your eyes narrow suspicious at him now.

“Can you make it snow?”

“M’not Jack Frost.” He scoffs offended.

“Santa always leaves snow from his boots.” You argue back.

“It’s for the dang effect.” Joel argues back.

“Can’t be Santa then.” You shrug.

He makes a disgruntled sigh of a noise. Glaring hard, he waves his hand out to the wind. Suddenly the wind blows strong, a howling gust rushing against you, so blustery you need to cover your face. When the wind stops you realize you’re lightly covered in snow.

You almost drop your not so hot chocolate.

Joel must sense your shock. He takes your drink from your hand, takes a sip and makes a disgusted face.

“Look… came here for a reason. I think we might be able to help each other out.

He’s here with a proposition.

“I… need a wife.” He declares with a deadpan like energy.

Now you almost laugh again.

“What, did Mrs Claus divorce you?” You joke.

“Never been married.” He frowns.

Oh.

“So why now?” Curiosity peeks up in you fast.

“Legal shit.” His words don’t allow for more prying. “I’ll explain it all later. Just needed to find ya to see if we can get this done.”

“Wait, why me?”

He lifts up that damn letter again, waves it around.

“Y’said you wanted a boyfriend.” He almost sounds bored.

“This isn’t the same.” You squak, indignant.

“Look,” he now returns to that deep somber tone.

“I need this. And you’d be… compensation.” His voice shifts slightly awkwardly.

He mentions your loans, all the debt you have, and how he might be able to help out. Your eyes feel like they’re about to pop out their sockets.

Commotion finally arrives at the door leading back inside.

Joel takes a sip of your drink, then hands it back to you.

“Think it over.” He says low.

The door slides open, and your other friend flings her head out.

“Hey come on! They’re cutting the cake!” She brightly exclaims, but her face scrunches up confused.

“Wait, who were you talking to?” She asks.

Your eyes flicker to the spot where Joel would be.

No one stands next to you. All that’s left is snow and the imprint of boots.

You also notice…your hot chocolate has been warmed.

-

“Santa lives here? In Austin Texas? What happened to the North Pole?” Walking behind him, you sound like a bummed out kid who just found out Santa isn’t real.

“Shit said to throw the FBI off.” Joel Miller replies bluntly, and you don’t know if he’s joking or not.

His house, rustic and cozy, holds a spacious warmth. But it feels vacant, unusually quiet for a man known to bring joy and the personification of Christmas warmth.

“So how does one become Santa?” You ask.

“Long story.” Another curt reply.

“Well, if I’m gonna be your wife shouldn’t I know these things?” Just saying the words aloud didn’t seem real.

You can’t believe you’re doing this.

The new home draws in your full attention trying to soak it all in. So many photos of two girls cover the walls and they grow right before your eyes. Curiously, you ask about them.

“They’re my daughters.” Joel answers simple.

Your eyes go wide.

He had children.

“They’re the reason why we’re here actually.” Joel adds while he moves around his cozy kitchen.

He reveals ‘Santa Claus’ is simply a title for someone to fill. It’s a hefty role. Joel was able to get away without having a spouse with his first daughter, and then again with his second. But now with her about to enter college, Joel was alone.

The stipulation to marry now stood between him and having the title stripped from him.

“Why do you even need to get married?”

“Some shit about needing companionship and other fuckin’ bullshit.” He gruffly explains.

“You could retire.” You offer.

“Don’t wanna.” He roughly replies grabbing papers out of a drawer.

“So your daughters… I’m sure they must’ve been over the moon knowing their dad was Santa.” You try breaking the ice more.

Placing a pen on the table, Joel sighs.

“Look, we don’t gotta do this.” He snaps tight. “This small talk and shit. The sooner we can get this signed and started, the sooner we can get this over with.”

His words sting, becoming sharp barbs that dig in deep.

“Fine.” You grab the pen ready to sign whatever the hell this guy has for you.

A back door opens, and commotion follows. A handsome younger man, with the same dark eyes like Joel that instead sparkle, walks into the kitchen from the garage. Following him are two much older gentleman, one with kind eyes and the other with a glare that could whither a field

“Well now, is this the soon to be Mrs Joel Miller?” The youngest of the bunch says bright and sunny.

Joel introduces you to his brother, Tommy, who is an exact opposite to his sour puss older sibling. Frank, an old family friend, is here to officiate the ceremony. His husband, Bill, would be the other witnesses besides Tommy. Frank and Tommy are thankfully sweet, obviously curious about you.

“Can we get this fuckin’ done with?” Joel snaps.

Now your annoyance triples, and you’re thankful Tommy and Frank chide Joel. Bill snorts amused.

But wanting to leave now too, you’re quick to agree to start the ceremony.

It’s done short and simple in the kitchen - Frank asking you and Joel to take each other as husband and wife. You agree briskly. Joel just nods. There’s not even an exchange of rings, or a kiss to conclude the ceremony.

Joel simply sticks his hand out, a damn handshake becomes your official agreement, your binding wedding vow.

You maybe should have read over the marriage agreement more, could have been smarter and brought a lawyer, even one that might have believed you. But you’re pissed. You simply sign the papers, let Frank go over the documentation, then gather your things.

“Wait, you ain’t gonna stay for lunch?” Joel suddenly questions seeing you get up to leave.

“We got this over with, didn't we, husband? That’s all you wanted right?” Your words are clipped, polite but sharp, that they even sting you.

You apologize to Tommy and Frank for meeting like this. Yet you don’t say another word to your new husband who feels more of a stranger than ever.

-

When you get back to your mom’s place a new sticky note sits on your night stand.

Sorry about today, let me make it up to you.

-J

Underneath is his phone number.

Guess he’s showing off the very classic Santa trick of slipping into houses without anyone noticing he pulled off a breaking and entering.

He answers on the second ring when you call.

“I got Santa’s personal number?” You offer with a gentle treading tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel huffs.

It eases the tension. But hesitation still brews thick, an awkwardness of trying to talk to a stranger who just so happens to be your new husband.

“Uh, shit…Sorry about earlier. Didn’t end up eating lunch. You up for a bite to eat? I'll pay?” His voice is open, letting you decide.

Agreeing, he shows up to your door in record timing.

“Is this traveling fast a Santa thing? How can you travel so fast?” Your curiosity gets the best of you.

Joel simply smirks, not answering, but the silence dances playful now.

He takes you to a cozy barbecue spot on the lake. The Texas winter makes the days crisp, almost stuck between autumn and full blown winter. But in the midday sun, it's rather lovely.

“I’m surprised you’re not busy with everything coming up.” You’re trying stepping into the conversation as eased and natural as possible.

“If I’m tryin’ to scramble to get shit done by now, then I ain’t doing my job right.” He says taking a sip of his beer, and his words ignite a burst of heat in you.

It's attractive… he’s attractive. You can’t deny that.

Lunch is surprisingly casual, relaxed. Joel asks about grad school and about your major, asks about your family. It vaguely feels like a regular first date.

However this is treading the waters between you and him and this strange new circumstance.

This situation has been gnawing at you. Anxiously, you wonder if he judges you for agreeing so quickly, for jumping in because of the money.

“Hey,” it's like he senses your quiet already.

“You still don’t gotta do this. I can head back home right now, rip up those papers and start again.” A sincere tone, gilded in understanding, rings in his voice.

He’s giving you a way out. You shake your head.

You want to see this as something good. So raising your drink up, it’s another cheers to him. This time Joel moves to toast you with his beer.

“I’d call this the strangest wedding reception ever but hey, I’ll take it.” Joel nods. His mountainous shoulders drop seemingly relaxed more.

You laugh, and for the first time, it feels like you’re sitting across a new friend now… who just happens to be your husband.

-

You and Joel start texting. It’s still a bit awkward, and he’s a dry texter which doesn’t help. You get tempted to send him Santa memes, but you’re not sure you can joke with him more.

You check your loans. They’re still there looming like a thick unmovable sludge. So he hasn’t paid it off yet.

Reality and acceptance settles in. This man, the embodiment of Christmas joy, is just that busy even though he said he wasn’t.

At least you helped, or maybe unknowingly sold your soul away and just don’t know it yet. Whatever it is, you slip back into your regular routine and head back to your mom’s.

Pulling up an unknown older red truck sits in front of the house, and you wonder who’s its owner.

Walking inside your mom announces she’s in the kitchen. Tools scattered along the table are a reliving sight. So it’s just the plumber she finally called.

“You didn’t tell me the guy you were seeing is a handy man.” Your mom whispers excitedly.

As if on cue Joel struts out from the bathroom looking something straight from a hallmark movie. The green plaid shirt he wears compliments him beautifully, and it’s hard not to stare at him and his delicious broad ass shoulders.

“Hey.” He greets with a half smirk.

“Was in the neighborhood, wanted to stop by and see if ya wanted to get dinner tonight. Then I remembered you telling me about your mom’s sink.”

You mentioned that during your first lunch with him. How did he remember?

Something soft, swirling with longing, fills your chest, and you try swallowing it back. As thanks, your mom happily suggests Joel joining for dinner here, and panic strikes you fast.

Joel grins bigger seeing you scramble to dissuade him. Of course he agrees.

You never would have guessed Joel ‘prickly as a Christmas cactus’ Miller is a charmer. He even pays for takeout much to your mother’s surprise.

“Didn’t know he was so much…older.” She hesitantly comments when he leaves.

“It’s been nice dating someone more mature.” You half lie. You aren’t ready to tell her the guy is your husband.

Later you text him thanks for fixing the sink and for dinner.

What are husbands for? He replies back.

And you really wish you knew.

-

You’ve wanted to go see the trail of lights, but with your mom working late for the holidays and your friends out of town, you consider making the trip alone.

Until your phone rings.

Joel has now started calling you, simply to chat, ask about how your day is, even just to check up on you. It makes your heart jump.

“Whatcha up to?” His voice rumbles deep and wonderful over the phone.

“Wanted to go to the trail of lights but might skip. No one wants to go.” You sigh.

“I’ll go.” He quickly replies, and your head spins.

If you thought Joel in plaid was a deadly force, him in a thick winter brown coat that highlights his strong frame is an utter sight.

The array of candy colored lights coat the world in a beautiful celestial dream. You’re thankful it’s not busy tonight.

“I’ve always loved Christmas lights.” You admit. It’s one of your favorite parts of being back home.

Surprisingly, he curiously asks about you more, what brought you back home. You of course tell him the truth. Out of state college got too expensive in undergrad, and now going to grad school expenses started piling up.

“So I’m back home.” You simply shrug.

“Ain’t no shame in it.”

You beam at his earnest words.

“Y’know, I haven’t been here in so long.” Joel admits. “Used to come here with the girls all the time when they were little.”

Wanting to embrace this tiny step he’s taking, you ask what they’re like. A soft look, one molten and fatherly, blooms over his face. It suits him, like he was born to be a dad in any lifetime.

Sarah is his eldest, a sweetheart going to school to be a journalist. He had her when was young, way too young, and her mother wasn’t big on wanting to raise a kid at that age.

“So it was just the two of you?” You softly ask.

“Yup, until our Ellie came along.” He nods while another soft grin tugs at his lips.

He tells you Ellie is adopted.

“S’actually a wild story.” Joel begins. “Found her during a run.”

A run, you learn quickly, is when he’s out on Christmas Eve.

“Newborn baby crying on the edge of the fire station. It was freezing as shit that night. Couldn’t just leave her there.” He mutters lost in the memory.

You and him have slowed your walk, now almost glued to each other side by side.

“Was a goddamn miracle.” He adds nodding.

“That’s beautiful, Joel.” You admire, meaning your words.

He goes on telling you Ellie’s already working in her last year of high school, ready to move out, be on her own, ready to start college.

“So I bet when they were kids they were thrilled to know their dad was… who you are.” You state with a warm grin.

Joel barks hollow.

“Couldn’t even threaten them with the naughty list deal. To them I’ll always be dad.” His voice twinkles, it’s like peeling away at the rough exterior to realize Joel is just an extra toasty marshmallow.

He’s still so warm and soft on the inside.

“Can I ask… how did it happen?” You’re worried he’s going to shut you out like he did last time.

But a heavy exhale leaves him. And he tells you…

About a night driving home during the bad snow storm that came many years ago. He stopped to help this man on the side of the road, who he assumed was a mall Santa that had gotten into an accident.

“Instead it was the real fucking deal.”

After that, the previous holder of the title passed away, leaving Joel to take up the mantle.

“Had to say yes,” he says with a shrug. “Even at five years old Sarah was bossin’ me around, telling me I had to…. Haven’t regretted it since.”

Iridescent adoration swallows your body whole begging you to embrace Joel Miller wholly.

“It’s wonderful. It’s brought you so many amazing things,” You can’t even hide your admiration anymore, don’t want to. You don’t want to fight this. You’d be his real fake wife for long as he would let you.

Joel’s face turns to you. His eyes glance straight into your very being, the lights dance among his endless earthen eyes. You want to get lost in the twinkle, already hating how badly you feel drawn to this man.

You try taking in every ounce of Joel here under the cloak of lights. He’s a dream, this fake husband of yours, one that feels like you’re simply allowed to admire but never touch.

Being this close to him, your eyes unfortunately drift to his lips. How bad would it be to kiss this man?

There’s plenty of songs about kissing Santa Claus. Would you simply not be embracing the holiday spirit?

A distant car horn honks and causes you to jump, breaking the hypnotic spell Joel has cast on you. Walking out, sadly heading home, you finally notice something.

It could be the shade of the lights, but the greys in Joel’s beard are starting to appear white.

-

The week before Christmas is a chaotic cluster. So much cleaning and shopping, you want to scream. Joel calls you while you’re braving the mall.

“You sound exhausted, honey.” He says, and the pet name isn’t lost on you.

But it is lost on your rant though. You’re exhausted from trying to find these specific dang muffins your grandmother only refuses to eat while also trying to find a gift for your cousins.

“Gift cards are a lifesaver for a reason.” He comments casually.

“You grant Christmas wishes for a living, and that’s your answer.” You snort.

“I’ve delivered my share of ‘em, so hell yeah they are.”

Even in the mess of the mall’s chaos you laugh. In such a short amount of time, Joel’s presence in your life has solidified steady, unwavering, like he’s always been here. Long chats on drives home, him dropping by with groceries to deliver, it all unfolds so natural. You’re even heading over tonight to have dinner with him and his brother Tommy.

Once you’re back in the car, you notice a new bag sitting in the backseat.

Reacting in you discover not only the damn elusive dinner rolls you’ve been searching for, but a pack of gift cards.

A sticky note sits on top of them.

Don’t hate the gift card

-J

You blame the Yuletide spirit in the air, but your heart soars. It’s like you’ve been swept into a Christmas special. But, you’re waiting for the bad ending to come.

These feelings for Joel have only multiplied, taking root deeper in your heart. The sugared admiration for him now grows fangs becoming a dazed lust. You’ve had dreams of him sweaty and golden above you in bed. You ache to know what he sounds like, to know the feeling of him inside you, to get drunk on his taste.

Heading over to Joel’s you kick away those dangerous thoughts you have for your husband.

A sweet woman answers the door, who introduces herself as Maria, Tommy’s wife.

“Nice to finally meet Joel’s not so secret, secret wife.” She grins. Guess that meant she knew the secret too.

She knows more than you even do as she guides you out back. The shed sitting in the corner of the backyard is unassuming. Yet when you step inside, a full workshop, the size of a Costco, stands glimmering before you.

“It never gets old.” Maria whispers, sensing your stunned awe.

Joel finally steps into view, and you’re taken back. The white among his beard sits stronger. He’s in more comfortable clothes and the gray sweatpants are sinful on him. The sight of his strong arms, his tummy through his tight white shirt, all make you think of biting into his skin -

You yank yourself out of the feral thoughts. Especially when Joel spots you. He blinks, just as stunned as you are.

“Hey, sorry. Got shit tied up here. Y’don’t gotta stay, might not be done until... fuck I don’t even know when.” He sighs, running a hand across his face.

“Can I help?” You blurt out.

Joel blinks at you, almost like he didn’t hear what you said and even squints a bit making him as old as he is.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You ask again.

Joel swallows. “You don’t, fuck...Ya don’t have to.”

You want to and determinedly tell him that.

His eyes widened like you just grew two heads. He recovers swiftly, nodding as he calls Tommy over. The younger Miller brother sees you and winks.

“Come on newbie, let’s getcha set up.”

You, Maria and Tommy are in charge of bulk orders making sure each package has the right amount and ready to be delivered.

“Does he… really have a list?” You ask with a whisper.

“Checks it twice too.” Tommy cheekily replies, and you laugh bubbling with disbelief, but apologize quickly.

“S’all good, trust me it took me a while to realize it’s real. But it’s something damn special once you do.”

You fully agree.

The night is long, but you don’t notice it. You get into a grove and get excited when Maria shows you some of the orders, children getting bikes, someone getting a new pair of shoes. It fills you with something luminous you can’t fully describe.

It’s a reward in itself when you finish a large order and high five Maria and Tommy.

“Well now, we finally get to meet the new Mrs. Joel Miller.” A new voice, smooth but curious, breaks the moment.

Behind you stand a small cluster of older men. You don’t know how, but you just know they’re all previous holders of the title of Father Christmas. It’s only confirmed when Tommy whispers it sharp to you. So these retired men were the ones pestering Joel.

“They usually drop by to do audits, checks and things, didn’t know they would be here this late.” Maria adds low.

“We’ve been wanting to stop by and give our congratulations, but Joel has been so keen on keeping you all to himself.” One of the older gentlemen winks.

You politely smile.

“You’re rather young.” Another man comments.

“Way too pretty for a grouch like Miller.” One, with a thick accent, teases with a grin.

Joel suddenly, as if summoned, comes rushing out from the side and immediately slides in front of you, a protective barrier.

“You’re running a bit behind schedule.” The snarkiest of the men comments to Joel. “Guess the new wife really has been keeping you away.”

Your face scrunches up pissed now, until Joel’s hand moves to hold yours, squeezing it tight.

“He even has you helping, dear?” One of the quieter men asks you, concerned.

“I’m happy to help.” You truthfully answer steady and firm.

You want to be a part of this as much as Joel allows. Not just because you’re his paper wife, but because you care for him.

All of the previous Santas now seem to survey you, practically staring straight into your soul.

“If you gentlemen are done harassing my wife I suggest y’all fuckin’ head home.” Joel barks sharp.

One of them scoffs at this reply.

The main leader of the group glances at you then back to Joel.

“You picked a good one, Joel.” He smiles with a chuckle.

“You take care of this grouch now, pretty lady.” The sweetest of the men beams at you, a twinkle in his eye.

“Get out.” Joel snaps cold, holding your hand tighter than ever.

In a blink, they’re before you, and the next, they’re gone, vanished into the wind.

Your legs feel like they’re about to give out, and you have to lean against Joel who sighs with the same relief.

In the rush, you swear you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head. Tommy and Maria greet you proud. You return back to your station, back to helping.

Until you realize it’s past 1 in the morning, and you can barely keep your eyes open.

“Hey, crash here for the night.” Joel appears besides you, steadying your arm.

“I’ll be fine, I can drive home.” You reassure him through an unconvincing yawn.

“No. You don’t need to. S’cold as hell out there, just stay here.” He urges, and you don’t want to fight him.

So you’re given the guest room and a spare change of clothes, which include an oversized UT Longhorns shirt and sweats, both obviously Joel’s.

Sliding his shirt on, your heart races. The exhaustion, you blame it on the exhaustion, when you pull his shirt up to inhale deeply. The smell is soft, comforting, a mixture of his cologne and something purely musk, purely Joel.

You wonder how bad it would be to touch yourself in his guest room. Glancing out the door to see if you’re alone, that’s when you catch a glimpse of Joel down the hall.

Busy looking at his phone, he’s shirtless and a decadent sight. You fully take in his solid build, the look of a man. His sweatpants have slung lower, revealing the thick trail of hair leading down to his cock. The pudge of his belly is beautiful.

He’s beautiful, and you want him more than anything.

The next morning he’s gone, already hard at work. You enjoy breakfast with Maria and Tommy who you already adore even more.

“Don’t be a stranger now, it’s nice to have a new face around. Plus Joel can’t stop talking about you.” Maria’s words almost make you spit out your tea.

Tommy snickers at your reaction.

Driving back to your mom’s, you already miss the chaos of the Miller household. Arriving home, your heart sinks seeing your relatives have arrived early.

“Oh, back from staying over at a guy’s house? Maybe you’ll finally get a boyfriend that stays around long enough.” Even though your Aunt is trying to be teasing, you already wish she could leave.

“I think he’s a keeper. He’s older too.” You mom explains with a slow whisper, and you send her a look.

Everyone unfortunately perks up at that.

“Really? Well, you know what they say, you should always question why a man doesn’t date a woman his age.” Your Aunt, with such a judgmental tone, tries to sound sincere but it slices you deep.

“It’s not like that.” You reply feeling a new sense of dread crawl in you.

“Is it a sugar daddy situation?” Your cousin jokes, and it gets too much.

You laugh bitter, fake, then head back to your room. You wish more than ever to crawl back to Joel’s.

Back in your room, something new sits waiting for you on your nightstand.

A flower, your favorite, in full bloom has a note tied to it.

Thanks for all the help

This time Joel signs his name with a little scribbled heart.

You cherish it more than gold.

-

“I…won’t be available these new few days.” Joel reveals, almost sounds guilty.

It’s the first time you’ve finally gotten the chance to talk with him free from curious family members trying to eavesdrop.

Here in the dead of night, your heart aches for him.

“I know, kinda figured.” You grin.

He chuckles.

Suddenly a selfish thought tugs at you.

The image has been plaguing you more and more. Does dress up in full Santa gear? He has to, right?

“So do you…fully wear the whole thing? The red suit? White hat?” You ask, waiting for the answer.

“…if I say yes, are ya gonna divorce me?” Joel replies gruff.

You laugh but rush to quiet down trying not to wake anyone. But you reassure him there's no need for divorce.

“Just… kinda wish I could see it.” You admit, feeling greedy wanting to witness the sight.

Joel stays quiet.

“Maybe one day.” He mutters.

“Yeah…” maybe one day.

“Stay safe out there.” You tell him when you hear him yawning more. “And get all the rest you can.”

“Yes ma’am.” He drawls, and you melt.

You don’t hear from him after that.

You deal with more annoying family members. Enjoy some delicious cozy food. All while missing Joel.

Waking up Christmas Eve morning, you see an email.

All your loans are paid in full. It wasn’t just your loans, but your mother’s. Completely debt free - both of you. She cries. You even get teary eyed.

One of your uncles makes a dumb joke about it maybe being a mistake.

“It’s a blessing,” your mom says, grateful.

“No, it’s a gift from Santa.” You beam, knowing no one would believe you.

However, a new fear starts morphing in you.

What did this mean for you and Joel? Is the contract completed? Is this over? Was it only to say he had a wife on paper, parade you as proof, then… never speak to him again?

The questions pester and haunt you the entire rest of the day.

Then night creeps in.

“You wanna leave cookies out for Santa?” Your mom jokes seeing you grab a plate.

“Maybe, but I think I might leave out a beer too.” You reply and she laughs.

Once everyone heads to bed and leaves back to their hotels, you sneak into the living room.

Never in your life would you have imagined ever needing to wait up to see Santa. Much less as a full adult.

And it proves to be a true test of endurance. You doze off a few times but quickly snap your eyes open, worried you’ll miss him.

Checking the time, it’s almost midnight. Of all the nights you want to stay up, fighting asleep is harder than ever.

You don’t even realize your eyes have closed until the softest graze of fingers against your cheek wakes you.

Panicked, scrambling awake, you snap your eyes open and whisper Joel’s name.

Finally blinking into focus, there’s no sign of anyone here.

“Y’left out a beer for me?”

Until the softest smoothest thick accent floats out into the quiet of your living room. You left the tv on, and the light of it blends with the glow from the Christmas tree. It bathes Joel in something sublime.

No classic Santa hat sits on his head, but the way his hair is scruffy and flat, he must have been wearing it before.

But the sight of him in the crimson suit, the soft white fur lined edges of the coat, how bulky and strong he looks… You’re reminded of a rugged cowboy Santa.

It all ignites a wildfire, and now you’re wide awake scrambling out of the blankets to get to him.

Not thinking, almost possessed by some ghost of Christmas present, you rush forward and embrace him. His body, sturdy and solid, radiates a warmth that encompasses you.

“What are ya doing up?” He whispers low while you clutch onto him. You need to touch him with your own hands, feel he’s real. You also don’t miss the gloved hands against your hips.

“Had to see you.” You croak out.

You pull back to look at him.

Finally, you take him in. It’s Joel, the same grumpy Joel that’s changed the oil for your car, who has a soft spot for the stray cats in his neighborhood, and is an amazing father - but it all collides with the truth of who he really is.

A watery laugh comes out of you and you hate that immediately you’re blinking away tears.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Joel immediately asks worried, letting his hands move to rest on your arms, a comforting presence.

You reassure him it’s nothing, trying to wave this reaction off.

“You gotta tell me what’s wrong or else Christmas stops and it’ll all be your fault.” His tone is somber, but you sense the tease, a classic Joel joke among his words.

Shaking your head, you wipe away more tears frustrated at your reaction. Then his hand, gloved but striking in size, cradles your face, and he gently strokes your cheek. Joel turns your face to him.

“Talk to me, honey please.”

You don’t know how to express everything that’s in your heart. It all feels too much - the conflict of realizing where you stand with him, the doubt that brews wondering if he even holds the same affection for you.

“I don’t wanna lose you.” You admit weakly.

It’s that you can muster out, all that you can do to sum up the bundle of emotions storming in your heart.

Joel’s eyebrows furrow. His mouth drops a bit. In the low light, the shadows on his face deepen like caverns aging him beautifully.

“M’not going anywhere. You won’t lose me.” He reassures, even squeezing your face soft.

Those endless eyes that normally stare so direct and with such a magnetic force, now flicker away almost boyish and shy.

“I’m the one afraid of losin’ you.” He mutters, like he’s admitting it more to himself.

His words unwrap your heart releasing so many emotions.

“Joel.” You whisper, a bit hesitant, and his gaze draws back to you.

He seems closer now, his coal-like eyes brewing something untouchable. Silence, a soft shift settles, you taking him in, and him doing the same for you.

You don’t know who moves first. But in a blink his lips descend onto yours.

His mustache tickles. His lips hold a hint of something sweet sugary, indulgent, or you wonder if that’s just Joel.

Strong gloved hands clutch onto you holding your tighter against his frame. He tilts your head, allowing him to kiss you deeper, and your mouth willingly opens begging for more of him.

It isn’t lost on you that you’re kissing Santa Claus, like a cheesy holiday song. But it’s the fact that you’re kissing Joel Miller that melts everything away.

Your fingers find his hair, running through his soft gray locks you’ve dreamed about. Joel groans, and you already want more.

With ease, he lifts you up with one arm and you squeak into his mouth. His chuckle vibrates against your lips, ticklish, until he starts to kiss your jaw, nibbling on the path of your skin.

You sigh, closing your eyes and drawing him closer when he places you back on the couch. Your legs curl against his waist, locking him in as you try molding into him, with him, as much as you can.

His lips find yours again, this time there’s a fevered edge to them. His tongue is messy, licking into your mouth desperate. You moan when he sucks on your tongue.

A blazing hunger takes over making your hips grind against him. Feeling his gloved hands slide up your legs, you whine digging into him harder.

Until he suddenly rips himself away, leaving you feeling empty missing his warmth and body against you.

“Shit…Really gotta go, honey. I can’t say.” Joel sighs. His heavy breathing, the tightness of his jaw, this is as hard for him as it is for you.

“Can’t you be a little late?” You softly question rising back up to kiss up his scruffy beard.

He groans when you softly kitten lick at his upper lip.

“Fuckin’ naughty little thing.” Joel growls.

You softly kiss his lips again.

“Guess that means I’m on the naughty list huh?” The joke slips out, and you already want to hide after hearing yourself.

Joel groans, but this time it’s ripe with embarrassment. You hide your face while he snickers.

“That was bad.”

“I know,” you agree mortified.

Even in your embarrassment, Joel presses a kiss to the crown of your head, and every worry melts away.

He stands up, pulling you gently up with him. Gathering you into his arms, this time Joel feels larger than life but also closer than ever, like he’s stitched inside your heart now.

“When will I see you again?” You hate how badly you miss him already.

“Soon, I promise.” He reassures rubbing your back softly, and you nod back.

His hand moves to hold your face again, gently, like you’re a precious treasure.

And you think he might be yours.

Joel kisses you, the softest sweetest press of his lips that melts into your bones. And when you open your eyes, he’s gone.

All that’s left are the faintest hints of snow flurries on your living room floor…

And of course he made sure to take his beer.

-

When Joel said he’d see you soon, you didn’t think it would be the next morning, Christmas morning.

Softly a hand brushes against your face, slowly waking you. You find yourself back in your bedroom. The soft glow of the winter morning spreads a gentle light that covers your room.

Joel is here, kneeling beside your bed, and immediately you turn towards him.

In this light, his greys look softer, thicker in their shade, like beautiful white streams run from his temples. And his beard looks as if snow flurries have been peppered in more. The red velvet of his suit looks brighter. Your fingers run across the fabric, across his shoulders.

You whisper his name, yet a sadness creeps in again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he nods.

“Are you okay… with us?” It’s a stumbled way to ask, but it’s all you can get out.

Is he okay that you’re much younger than him?

“Yeah, of course.” He nods.

“Actually, Ellie and Sarah were the ones who told me to go for it.” He admits fondly, sleepily.

“They said I needed to be selfish for once, let myself have this…”

His eyes watch you as you sit up to reach him.

“Is that why you were so cold when we first met?” You ask.

Joel nods, sighing.

“Felt awful knowing I was doing this to you, someone so dang young, so fuckin’ beautiful. Hated that you were stuck with a mess of ‘n old man like me.”

“I’d pick you everytime.” The words escape fast. You can’t even stop them.

Instantly he swoops in kissing you with an unchained passion that makes you dizzy.

Immediately you tug at him, begging him to crawl onto the bed. You sigh in bliss when he does, making your mattress creak ever slightly with his glorious solid frame.

His kisses are drenched in a poison intoxicating you.

Clutching onto Joel’s shoulders, you lift your hips when his gloved hands tug at your pj pants.

That’s when you hear the faint laughter of everyone downstairs awake. You freeze. Joel senses your hesitation. That gorgeous nose of his nuzzles against your jaw breathing in the scent of you.

“Y’gonna be a good girl and keep quiet for me?” His thick low voice is all you need because you’re nodding yanking at his shoulders to kiss him again.

This kiss dances along the edge of something fierce and wild, like you’re trying to contain it, hold it back before it spreads and someone hears.

Until Joel’s gloved fingers slip inside your wet heat, and you slap a hand over your mouth to hold back a moan. Feeling his black leather glove inside you has your eyes roll back. Then when you rest your head against the soft fur lining of his coat, it creates such a dizzying sensation you want to get lost in.

“Oh fuck.” He drawls, hoarse.

His fingers pump in and out of you, and the squelch of your wetness sounds downright obscene now. Joel revels in it.

“Letting this ol’ man winter fuck ya while everyone’s down stairs waiting…Y’like that baby?”

You whimper, nodding, clutching onto him harder trying so hard to keep quiet. Then he removes them from your pussy and you whimper at the loss.

Until he draws his gloved fingers, shining and coat in your arousal, up to your lips.

“Can ya clean ‘em off for me?” He mutters.

Without hesitation you pull them into your mouth and suck, letting your tongue wiggle across the leather. You moan tasting this union of you and the leather.

“Shit,” Joel croaks like he got punched in the gut.

Quickly he yanks his hand out from your mouth, rips his gloves off and kisses you feverish.

“Need to feel ya.” He sounds drunk as you feel, even more when his bare fingers thick and warm slip into you again.

He makes you come so fast it knocks you breathless, feeling hot even with the cooler temperature in the room. You whisper begging him to fuck you, to take you here before he heads home -

“Can’t darlin’, but soon I will. I promise.” He reassures you kissing your lips over and over.

“And Santa always keeps his promises, yeah?”

That shouldn’t be so hot, but it is. You greedily kiss him, trying to devour him even more.

“Jesus,” he growls, his accent thicker than ever. “Makin’ it so fuckin’ hard to leave.”

“Then don’t.” You beg.

But then the voices downstairs get louder, and the smell of food warming up floats in.

Joel sighs deflated. You know this is the end for now.

Rubbing his wonderful nose against yours, you lean to press your forehead to his. He breathes out your name, and it sounds like a blessing.

“Merry Christmas, honey.” He whispers softly to you.

A knock comes at your door, and in a panic you drag your blanket up around you.

“You awake yet?” Your mom jokingly asks.

You definitely are now. Of course Joel has vanished.

But something tickles the top of your head. Bundles of mistletoe, twisted among so many lovely ribbons, bloom all along your bed frame.

-

One Christmas Later

“Did I ever show you the shirt Ellie and Sarah sent me last week?” You ask, and Joel, half paying attention, hums.

He pulls his attention away from the Dallas Cowboys game long enough to glance at your phone.

The shirt reads - Mrs Claus but Married to the Grinch

He rolls his eyes, not finding it as amusing as his daughters did.

“Or what about this one.” You show him the next option.

This one, in bright gold lettering, says - Santa’s Sexy Girlfriend

“No.” He flat out pushes the phone away making you laugh and lean against his strong shoulder.

This would be the last night before he heads out on his run. This will also be the first night you get to see him leave, and the first night you’ll get to wait for him now living at his home.

The memories and days that have brought you here are strung up in your heart, luminous multi colored tinsel you never want to take down.

“It’s actually one of the first years we’re ahead of schedule,” Tommy says when you greet him back at the workshop.

“That wife of yours is really something.” Though Tommy talks directly to his brother he makes sure to wink at you.

You’re grateful you got to help out more this year, even enjoyed having Ellie and Sarah around when they came by to visit. But with Ellie now enjoying time with the girl she desperately has a crush on, and Sarah taking the day to spend time with her new boyfriend, it really would just be you and Joel.

A delicious heat crawls in you knowing what you had waiting for him.

But you almost forget about it when you start helping Joel get dressed.

Your throat dries seeing him buckle up his crimson pants, then helping him slide his thick coat on and how broad it accentuates his shoulders…

“You keep lookin’ at me like we’re gonna get behind schedule.” Joel mutters sinful.

“We’re ahead of schedule. We could…mess around for a bit.” You offer light.

“No, being ahead means I can come home earlier.” He very playfully and lightly smacks your ass.

You hate when he’s right.

With a kiss goodbye you send him off returning to the quiet home. You’ll have a day and a half before Joel officially returns. So you spend your time binging multiple movies.

You’re also thankful for the stash of extra cookies you finally found. Joel ‘I ain’t got a sweet tooth’ Miller isn’t so slick with his hiding spots.

The film your best friend recommended is cheesy. But during the scene where the main love interest comes to interrupt the engagement party to announce he loves the bride, cause you to pause.

In theory, you are Joel’s wife. Your mom even jokes that she practically has the most perfect unofficial son in law, if only if she knew the truth. Yet, you don’t have a ring, don’t even use Miller as your last name.

It’s silly, you tell yourself and try not to think about it too much.

So you instead enjoy more cozy snacks and the rare bits of snow Austin is getting this time of year. It’s magical, paints the world like something straight from a Thomas Kinkade dream.

The morning comes when Joel will be home, and you sit waiting on the bed. Don’t even mind you work up early for this.

Earlier confidence surged in you when you slipped into the gorgeous lingerie set. Now it itches on your skin as you sit worried. The bow sitting on your bra might be too much. You almost bought the cute risqué Santa nightgown, but you hesitated.

You didn’t feel like you could truly even joke about being Mrs Claus when you didn't even fully consider yourself Mrs Miller.

“Honey?” Joel announces stepping into the house, and your heart jumps into your throat.

“In here!” You yell back.

Waiting on the bed feels like an eternity passes before Joel opens the door. There’s still snow on his shoulders. His hair is starting to grow out more so it curls around his ears. He’s never looked more gorgeous.

Then his face falls and his eyes become full moons taking in the sight of you before him.

“Oh baby,” he whispers like he can’t believe his eyes.

You grin sleepy.

With eased measured steps Joel walks forward, and you’re reminded of a hunter trying to approach his prey.

He drags his fingers, ungloved, warm and callous from all the hard work he does, up your exposed skin leaving a trial of heat in their wake.

“Can I unwrap my present?” He mutters, allowing his fingers to drift with. Delicate touch across the top of your breast barely kept in by the lace covered bra.

“Yeah, Joel please.” You sigh, closing your eyes when his large hand suddenly grasps, squeezing your breast.

The poor lingerie doesn’t make it out alive.

Now you drift in and out of sleep, naked in his arms. Joel kisses your forehead promising he’ll buy you as many new sets as you want.

“Merry Christmas to both of us.” You dryly joke.

He laughs, but it sounds a bit weak, more like a cough.

“Uh, speaking of Christmas gift… y’want yours now or later when we wake up?”

That makes you bolt up fast from his arms.

“I told you not to get me anything, Miller.” You protest, glaring at him.

Joel rolls his eyes.

“You’re telling me of all people not to get you something?” He scoffs.

“Then I don’t want it.” You stubbornly pout back.

“Alrighty then, I’ll return it tomorrow.” Sleepily he shrugs and turns on his side giving you full sight of his glorious sun kissed bare back. You try not to linger on the scratch marks you left behind.

Now you persistently tell him to give it to you.

“Sounds like what you were saying a few minutes ago.” He teases with a smirk glancing over to you from his shoulder.

Now you roll your eyes.

“Give me the gift Miller, or else.” You shake his shoulder trying to sound somber like Joel himself, but a smile tugs at your lips.

Dramatically, he groans sitting up.

“Making an old man like me get up after the long ass night I had.” He says reaching over to his nightstand.

“Oh please, if I asked you to go another round you would.” You scoff.

“You wanna?” He asks with a curious mutter, and you shove his shoulder again playful.

“Fine, fine.” Joel grumbles.

After reaching under the bed, he returns back with a box…covered in dinosaur wrapping paper.

“Look, it was the only one I had left over here.” He explains seeing your confusion.

“Joel, you work at a magical workshop where there's an endless supply of cute Christmas wrapping paper. Why didn’t you grab some?!” You laugh.

“Didn’t wanna mess up the inventory.” He huffs, grumpy and classically Joel.

“You gonna open it or am I gonna have to hide it again?”

At his words you greedily rip off the paper.

You guess by the size it looked like a shoe box and it is, a familiar box you thought you threw away. Now you’re confused.

Opening it, inside is an even smaller box. This one is classically wrapped in green and red with a shining bow on top.

But when you pick it up, you discover the tiny box is heavy. There’s also a latch at the back begging for you to lift and open.

Inside sits a ring, dancing with a shimmering sparkle.

You already fight back the tears.

Is this what you think it is?

Whipping your face to Joel he seems hesitant, worried, while he keeps his focus on you.

“I know we might’ve done this backwards but…” he reaches for the ring, gingerly pulling it out.

“Wanna make it official now.”

You inhale sharp.

“Honey I’ll get down on one knee if you want, but might take me a while to get back up…” he jokes, but the edge of his voice is watery, shaky, like he’s the one barely holding on.

“But…will you marry me again-”

You don’t even let him finish before you rush to kiss him. The tears come, fast and free like a wave, but they’re beautiful. You embrace it all.

Joel slides the ring in your finger. The weight of the beautiful metal feels wonderful against your skin, but you don’t notice it. Not when you’re swept up in making love to your Joel, your fiancé.

The love bursting through your heart could swallow you whole and you would let it.

“I love you,” he admits against your skin, breathing out like he’s finally found a moment of rest.

“I love you too.” You rub his back soaking in the bliss among the sweat and heat of his body against yours.

It’s just you and your Mr Claus.

“I’m glad Santa granted my wish.” You mutter dreamy, not caring how embarrassing you sound.

That is until Joel lifts his head up, those wonderful eyes of his shine brighter than any northern star.

“Mine too, honey.” He mutters, kissing you tenderly, a sweet promise of more beautiful Christmas days to come.

[wandaslovey]

𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇’𝓈 𝓆𝓊𝒶𝓇𝓇𝑒𝓁

➺ pastor’s!wife!wanda x fem!reader

wc ~ 3.4k

a/n: i just finished watching love & death for the 4th time and it made me go absolutely feral for lizzie with a southern accent. i’m debating whether or not i want to make this a short series—especially writing a second part where i better establish the background of these two characters. let me know if you guys would like a part 2!

*not proofread*

cw: brief mentions of religious background, infidelity/cheating, forbidden relationship, legal age gap, established relationship, reader almost smokes a cigarette but doesn’t, punishment, [wo]man-handling, spanking, humiliation, inspection, finger licking/sucking, praise, mommy kink, reader is kind of a whiny brat in this fic (she’s really just overstimulated), and some fluff at the end

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ୨♡୧ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you pace back and forth along the side of a red and white striped tent, kicking up some dirt and rocks as your feet drag. your skin feels like it’s tingling and your ears cringing at the sheer amount of sounds coming from the carnival you were currently at. you reach into your bra, retrieving one of the two cigarettes you had secretly stashed there unbeknownst to wanda. it was very unlike you—the smoking—but it was a nasty habit you picked up during your rebellious teen years. wanda had been trying to break you of it for months now. she’d gone as far as taking it upon herself to search through your things every time you two escaped to a town over to be together. any time she found a pack or a lone cigarette, she would throw it away claiming that her “sweet baby” shouldn’t be doing such a thing as “harming her own lungs.”

you hadn’t actually smoked one in awhile, but knowing you were coming here today, you stashed a couple in case you became overstimulated, which you now were. it didn’t help that you were already in a sour mood upon arriving here. wanda was all smiles and encouragement, happy and chipper to spend time with you. you weren’t sure why you were in such a poor mood, especially since you got to be with her, but at the moment you couldn’t care less about the series of events that may have drove you into this corner.

you pat your other breast, seeking the lighter but it wasn’t there. shit, you must’ve left it in your overnight bag or maybe in wanda’s car. with the cigarette hanging limply from your lips, you stupidly look around you as if there would be something around you to light it.

as you step out from behind the circus-like tent, you scan the small herds of people surrounding the area. there were so many families here along with couples and groups of young teens out with their friends. you hated being in places that were overly crowded. stepping out into this scene only made you feel worse and just when you were about to step back to your makeshift hiding place, you spot wanda walking rather briskly over to you. she was clutching onto the straps of her purse with two hands, her eyes intent on you as she made her way seamlessly through the crowds to get to you. normally, the look on her face would make you cower instantly, but you were in no mood to give into her dominating presence.

the cigarette that had been dangling from your lips was now stuffed back into your bra, your hands shoving themselves into the pockets of your t-shirt dress.

“now just where the hell did you think you were going? i’ve been looking all over for you, (y/n).” her southern accent bled into her words, which under different circumstances you loved, but right now that fact didn’t matter.

you cross your arms over your chest, taking a step around her as you attempt to walk away to blend in with the other crowds of people. she easily falls into step next to you, looking at you expectantly.

“i just needed a minute,” you say in a monotone voice, looking straight forward as you walk. clearly, she’s not sufficed with your answer. you count three, four, five steps before you feel her arm wrap around your bicep, her fingers curling tightly but not painfully as she pulls you back to the side, ducking around the corner of a carnival game tent.

“what is going on with you? you’ve been nothing but a fuss pot ever since i picked you up.” she uses her thumb and forefinger to hold your chin in place as you look up at her, her other hand still holding onto your arm. you feel your tough facade begin to crack, fissures seeping into your mind that made you want to cave and pout like the little girl you felt like right now.

“mm’fine wanda,” you mumble, looking at her pretty blonde cropped hair instead of her eyes. when you were in a mood like this, her eyes were the most dangerous place to look. those green orbs wielded more power than any god you’d ever been told to believe in.

“(y/n). look at me.” she commands, her fingers gripping more firmly onto your chin. she gently shakes your head back and forth until she gets the desired reaction and your eyes meet hers. you immediately feel a little more wobbly where you stand, her eyes all but piercing into your soul. “do not lie to me. ever. do you hear me little miss? i know something is going on with you.”

your bottom lip quivers slightly, jutting out into a pout and wanda watches your eyes widen and go soft around the edges, mimicking that of a guilty puppy. you hold eye contact with her for another second and all of a sudden the invisible cracks in your mind remold themselves. you harshly turn your head to the side, freeing your chin from her grasp. you didn’t want to give into her just yet.

“don’t wanna talk about it. let’s just go have some fun or whatever the fuck it is you’re supposed to do in this godforsaken shit show.”

you turn from her, already out in the midst of groups of other people before wanda can think about grabbing you again. from her place at the side of the tent, she watches you walk away, exhaling slowly to maintain her nerve before she catches up to you.

for the next hour or so, you go from tent to tent, playing the rigged games and forcing yourself to “have fun.” after being unkind to a couple of the attendants and giving her attitude for the last while, wanda was at her wits end. she had no idea what was going on with you and no matter how gently or forcibly she probed, you refused to tell her what was wrong.

it wasn’t until your final throw at a bean bag toss that she decided enough was enough. after hearing your “this was never my idea to be here” comment under your breath, she grabs your arm again, all but dragging you out of the carnival. there was a group of teenagers who stopped to watch you as you huffed, kicked and dragged your feet along as wanda pulled you wordlessly to the parking lot, but neither you nor she could care about that now.

she rummages through her purse with her free hand, angrily retrieving her keys at last as she unlocks the car. she opens the passenger back seat door, all but shoving you inside of it before shutting the door firmly behind you. she hurries to the other side, coming into the backseat with you.

a thick silence falls over the car, her eyes burning holes into the side of your face as you had yet to look at her. wanda wasn’t sure what to say—which approach would best get through to you in this moment.

“i’m going to give you one more opportunity to explain yourself before you’re in even bigger trouble than you already are.” her voice was artificially calm. anyone else would perceive her now as perfectly composed, but you knew better. you picked up on all the subtleties—the slight shake in her voice at the end of her sentence and her hands twitching ever so slightly. you had really pushed her today and you knew a punishment was inevitable. as you sat there in the silence of the car, you realized that subconsciously you were making today enormously difficult on purpose to earn her harsher hand. you were normally such a good girl for her, but today was about pushing buttons—and you really were overstimulated from everything at the carnival.

you glance at her from your peripheral vision, inhaling slowly as you begin to fidget with your hands in your lap. wanda’s normally impeccable patience had gone thin though, and when another beat of silence passed over the two of you, she was done waiting. she reaches over the middle seat, pulling your body till it was flush with hers. she lifts your legs over her lap, bending them in a slight awkward angle from being pressed against the side of the door. a gentle hand lifts your face, her fingers smoothing some of the frizz from your hair before she tucks the strands behind your ear.

“what happened to my sweet girl, hmm?” this time her voice was genuine and warm, her facial expression softening. she knew that paired with her sugary sweet sweetness and being wrapped up in her arms, you would melt. you could never deny the fact that regardless of your mood, you always wanted to be her good girl and to please her.

your pout from earlier came back full force as you began to feel a pang of guilt growing in your tummy. you had been unfair to her today, giving her attitude for no reason and denying her comfort at every turn. she deserved better.

your nimble fingers find the collar of her blouse and you fidget with the material absentmindedly. your brows pull together like you’re thinking hard about something as you stare at a random spot on her chest.

“i’m sorry, wanda,” you mumble, the edge of a whine in your tone. she strokes the back of your head, beginning to gently coax you into that fuzzy headspace you both love so much.

“well i sure do appreciate that, but an apology’s not what i asked for, is it?” you shake your head at her question, curling further into yourself to feel smaller in her lap. she easily adjusted her arm to support the new distribution of your weight while the hand on her other arm continued to caress the side of your cheek.

it was almost pathetic how easily you gave in to her touch. it had barely been a couple of minutes and you were already feeling much more compliant.

“i…it was just loud and bright,” you state simply in a small voice, offering no further explanation. you hoped she didn’t need clarification since you didn’t feel much like talking at the moment.

“the carnival? was my darling girl feeling a little overstimulated?” she asks sympathetically, tapping her finger against your cheek so you know to look up at her. your eyes slowly drag up her neck and her face until you’re looking in her eyes again. you nod once, your pout becoming impossibly deeper. she hums, a hand at the back of your head as she presses her lips against your forehead, planting a kiss there.

“i’m sorry sugar, mommy didn’t know. you have to tell me these things, honey. as much as i’d like to, i can’t read your mind.” she kisses your temple, watching your shoulders shrug in response to her comment. you wished she could read your mind. there were so many things you knew you needed to communicate to her that your stubborn refusal prohibited you from sharing.

“i really am sorry you were uncomfortable today sweetheart, that was never my intention. now i know for next time, right?” she pauses for a moment, noticing your line of sight was on your fingers that were still fiddling with her top.

“however, you did fail to communicate your needs with me despite the fact that i tried to get you to talk to me. on top of that, you were snotty and rude to not only me, but a few of the workers at the fair. you understand that is unacceptable, right?” she watches your head nod a few times, your eyes glazing over and she knows that right now, you’re her compliant little girl and you’ve already accepted your consequences.

“mommy’s gonna have to punish you. you understand why now, don’t you baby?” you nod once, but still clutch onto the collar of her shirt, your thighs pressing together as the word “punishment” passes through her lips. it doesn’t go unnoticed by wanda, but she chooses not to acknowledge it for now.

wanda gently pries your fingers from her shirt, maneuvering the both of you until you were face down across her lap. she had one of her legs crossed over the other so your lower back had a nice arch, your ass sitting higher in the air. she lifts your dress up over your rear, bunching the material at the middle of your back.

she hums to herself, her mouth watering slightly at the sight of your cute ass framed by your cheeky baby blue lace underwear.

“oh baby doll, you have the cutest, spankable cheeks, you know that?” the first teasing smack lands on your right cheek, already warming the skin. you groan at her question, feeling your panties dampen and the urge to press your thighs more firmly together.

“i’m going to spank you 40 times. i want you to count and say ‘i’m sorry mommy,’ for each spank. understood?” her hand caresses over the skin she just smacked, soothing the slight sting.

“yes mommy,” you reply, your voice muffled as your face was half pressed into the car seat. wanda purrs at your obedience, giving your ass cheek a squeeze. “good girl,” she murmurs, still rubbing your backside.

the first real smack lands on your left cheek, your body jerking slightly from the force. “one, i’m sorry mommy.” you breath out. you weren’t expecting her to start out so strong.

another blow. “two, i’m sorry mommy.” she measured the hit, ensuring she hit the same spot twice.

smack. “three, i’m sorry mommy.” you bite your lip, your core beginning to tingle.

smack. “four, i’m sorry mommy.” you feel your arousal continuing to wet your panties.

smack. “ffive—i’m sorry mommy!” you press your thighs together, only relieving a bit of the ache that was rapidly growing between your legs.

you hadn’t taken an inordinate amount of spankings, but you experienced enough that you knew that on average, the pain just surpassed the pleasure after about 18 hits. by the sixteenth one, your small pitiful whimpers turned to whines, and by the twenty-fifth the first low sob tore through your throat. tears were beginning to prick your eyes, threatening to roll down your pink tinged cheeks.

wanda pauses after the thirtieth spank, unable to ignore your increasingly squirmy little body. she could see your legs pressed firmly together, your body desperately trying to grind down onto her thighs. she tuts, tapping the back of your thigh in a silent command to open your legs. you feel a singular finger trace down your slit through your panties, the sticky feeling causing you to groan.

“oh sweetheart, look at you—all wet and sticky..” she trails off, her finger purposely rubbing up against your clit before she swipes back down to your opening. “you like it when mommy hurts you, don’t you?” it was mostly a rhetorical question, your arousal being evidence enough.

she brings her arousal coated finger up to your lips, which you eagerly suck into your mouth. you hum around the digit, swirling your tongue around it as any last rational thoughts you had turn to static.

“such a naughty baby. good little girls aren’t supposed to get so aroused by a punishment.” she pulls her finger from your mouth, a small popping noise emitting from the action.

“mommy,” you whimper pathetically, not quite sure exactly what you were begging for. you were past thinking clearly.

“shhh, i know honey. just 10 more spanks and then i’ll be done,” she runs a soothing hand down your back and then presses it down in the middle of your lower back. her last 10 smacks are just as harsh if not more than the other 30. by the end, the tears that been building in your eyes were spilling down your cheeks and you begin sniffling as your nose starts to run.

her hand carefully rubs across your now red, inflamed skin. she marvels at the sight. it was a bit sadistic, but she loved seeing the aftermath of a good spanking.

“mmm, i love it when you cry for me, baby.” her other hand finds its way into your hair, her fingernails gently scratching against your scalp. you melt into her affection, your body laying limply across her lap.

“let’s see how much more sticky sweetness is between these legs now, hmm?” she readjusts her hold on you, her leg propping you upright so your back is nice and arched again. her finger returns to your panties, finding them completely soaked through and ruined. you hear her chuckle amusedly before she presses the soiled material up against your opening, her fingertip just barely pushing into your hole. you let out shrill whine, your hips backing up into her touch. she shushes you, sliding your panties to the side and you all but jump as her finger grazes up against your unclothed pussy. she gathers the wetness there, drawing a line up and down your slit, taunting you. you bite down hard on your bottom lip, your hips wriggling under her touch.

“hush now… let me see.. ohhh, my listen to that.” you moan, her index finger sliding tantalizingly slow inside of you. you can hear your pussy squelching as she does so, your walls desperately clamping down around her digit. she wiggles it as far as it’ll go, her knuckles brushing against your clit. she does an experimental bend of her finger, your body jerking in response as she stimulates your g-spot.

just when you start to finally feel some relief, she slowly withdraws her finger. as she pulls it away, a string of arousal clings to her finger, connecting your went cunt to her before she pulls it far enough away that it disappears. she was going to have you clean it off, but the sight was too delicious to resist. she sucks her own finger into her mouth, cleaning off the evidence of your wetness. you swear you hear a small purr of pleasure coming from her, but you couldn’t be sure with your heart pounding in your ears.

she smooths your dress back over your ass, grabbing onto your waist and twisting you so you were now sitting facing her upright on her lap. she reaches up and holds the side of your face, a twinge of a smile on her lips as she notices your dismayed expression. she pouts sympathetically, stroking your cheek with her thumb.

“what did we learn today, (y/n)?” you don’t stop pouting as you answer. “to not be mean and to communicate my feelings..” you mumble, your expression solemn and wounded as if you had just been told the saddest thing. it turned out one of the most tragic things was having wanda tease you and then leave you high and dry.

“that’s right, sweetness. good job.” she smiles warmly, kissing your nose affectionately.

“you did so good for me, sugar. mommy’s very proud of you.” she smiles encouragingly, and despite how mopey you felt about being denied an orgasm, you glow under her praise and affection. you purse your lips together as you try to smother a smile threatening to cross your lips. wanda chuckles at this, playfully tapping her finger against your nose.

“i see that smile, little girl. you can’t fool me.” she attacks the side of your face with kisses, a wide smile now erupting across your face as you giggle gleefully.

“you’re gonna make my face all soggy—quit it!” you protest lightly, half heartedly pushing against her chest to put some space between your faces. wanda makes a mock gasp.

“i beg your pardon, missy? i can give you all the kisses i want!” she growls playfully through gritted teeth before she plants more sloppy kisses all over your face. you squeal and giggle, finding that moving your face around did nothing but give her new places to kiss.

you were so happy and content in your little wanda bubble. you never wanted it to pop.

[evolnoomym]

Washing Machine Heart 🩶 Pt.1

Mom’s Best-friend!Joel Miller x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: Your Mom is not nice to you, her only Daughter, always picking on you whenever she can. To get back at her you decide to seduce and fuck her Highschool Best-friend Joel Miller. Oh she also has a crush on him so that’s a bonus.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: no use of y/n, female reader, implied abuse, childhood trauma, alcohol, smut, reader has no name only nicknames, size difference, age gap, readers age is mentioned and Joel is more than double sooo, mommy issues, strained relationships, petty shit, cream pie, tittys, choking kind of, teasing, Joel is tiny bit Pervy, of course Daddy kink, unprotected p in v,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: I was mad so this is what I cooked up lol

Shoutout to @cafekitsune for the dividers 🫶🏻

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. This is my first time writing smut sooooo be nice please. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly. 🖤

Song’s I listened to while writing:

I Hate My Mom by GRLwood

Class of 2013 by Mitski

I hope ur miserable until ur dead by Nessa Barrett

Bubblegum Bitch by MARINA

Backstabber by Kesha

Jerk by Oliver Tree

You know exactly when the relationship between you and your mother started deteriorating- The day she decided to choose your loser Stepdad, the one she only dated for 4 years, over her own 8 year old daughter. From then on you took a backseat in her life yet she still expected you to take care of her all needs. You hate her for what she did and you miss her like a little kid. You had to drag her home when she drank too much, you can’t even remember how often that happened. Always having to jump in between that asshole and her fighting cuz even though she practically emotionally abandoned you, you still wanted to protect her from harm's way. She forced you to grow up so quickly, it’s her fault you never got a real childhood.

For years you accepted that this is normal. The screaming, the violence and the degrading words became a part of growing up. You were a kid but not clueless, someone who loves you wouldn’t have done all of this. And yet all of them tried so hard to make you shut up and believe it’s what you deserved.

Luckily what happened did not entirely break you. No, you grew into someone who fought for herself since no one ever did that.

Of course you hoped she might realize her mistakes, apologize and change but nothings new with her. She’s great at pretending to be a better person to the outside world, than she is in reality, behind closed doors the mask unveils an ugly woman. A narcissistic self absorbed monster that took all your joy away.

It’s pathetic considering how much she always talks about getting abused by her own father but instead of breaking the cycle she doubled down on it. Going as far as using that as an excuse for what she did to her own child.

She only kinda stopped the abuse once you no longer were a small child. Now that you could fight back she did not corner you anymore.

But just because she couldn’t hit you anymore doesn’t mean the picking on you stopped, no, it was her mission to rid you of the last remaining confidence and self love.

In each screaming match she tried so hard to gaslight you into believing you were crazy for feeling offended by her disgusting behavior.

One time you asked why she hit you as a little kid and the answer left you completely blown away. She expressed that you cried so much, and did it to provoke her. What else could she have possibly done other than raise her hand?

Or another time she refused to acknowledge that she hit you at all but a second later told you that perhaps if she would’ve done worse you would’ve turned out better.

At some point you stopped calling her Mom and only went with her name. You knew that it must hurt but did she really deserve that title after everything she did?

Now at 21 years old the relationship is just as rocky, not much has changed.

Your mom has basically zero friends, she’s a bitch of course no one would want to be too close, well except for Joel…..Joel Miller that somehow was her friend.

Perhaps only since they have known each other since High School, he might have felt some kind of obligation towards her due to that. She told you once that Joel was the boy every girl had a crush on with his whole guitar playing thing they all swooned over him.

Even now all those years later Joel was a beautiful specimen, tall, broad shoulders, huge hands, strong arms you’d like to be enveloped by, tanned freckled skin, a cute butt, gorgeous brown curls with slightly gray streaks showing his age, big brown eyes, a prominent nose and soft pillow like lips.

You understand why your Mom had a crush on him, any woman would bend over for him if he’d say so. She thought it was not too noticeable but unlike Joel you caught it immediately.

She made you the reason for her life being so shitty but now after years of torment you saw a chance at really giving her a reason to hate you. Maybe something is wrong with you for liking the idea of breaking her heart so much but you honestly couldn’t care less. The one you felt sorry for most was probably Joel; he would be the pawn in your deranged game without knowing.

As it turns out though Joel is not as innocent as expected, the more you tried to get closer the more you realized he might be easier to seduce than originally anticipated.

You started with small things like hugging him a bit longer than normally so he could feel you perky full tits squished against his chest. Touching his arms and squeezing them but not too much as if to draw attention to it. And from his reactions, he did not seem to mind.

You were not worried about your mother, she never was the most alert to begin with.

When Joel came over for a barbecue you used the time alone with him in the garden while your mother was in the kitchen preparing god knows what to impress him.

Joel and you had some interesting conversations.

“Soooo you work in contracting, right?” You asked him sweetly. Joel chuckled “Yeah sweetheart, I do. But ya know tha’ already, so why ask?” You played it off as much as you could “Just making sure you didn't decide to switch career paths in the time I haven’t seen you…” you look up at him through your lashes, cheekily biting your lip. Joel of course fell into the trap, his eyes going down to your plush lips in mere seconds. Got ya you dirty old men.

You stepped closer until you two were only a couple inches apart. His chest almost touched yours. In this position you really had to Crane your neck up to keep eye contact consistent.

“What are ya doing Baby,huh?” Joel tilted his head slightly down towards your face. You just giggled at him “Nothin Joel, just…” with that you put your hands on his wide chest ruining them down over his enticing slightly protruding belly. “I know you stare at my ass alllllll the time. I also know you like it when I walk close by you and graze you with my tits. My little skimpy outfits turn you on as well don’t they,huh Joel?” You smirk at him.

You can see how he clenches his jaw…ohhh yes you got him figured out.

He hisses low and menacing at you “You are a little slut ain’t ya, baby. Groping a man over double your age. Teasin me with those sugar tits and that tight lil ass….”

You can see his pupils dilate till his eyes look close to being completely blacked out. You muse “Yeah I’m a whore but you like that don’t you?” With that you cup his hard cock over his shorts he decided to wear today.

He gasps and immediately grips your wrist to yank those devilish hands away from his throbbing length. Especially when he hears your mother’s voice calling out from inside the house.

He backs off and tries to catch his breath as well as calm his raging hard on down to an unnoticeable minimum. Before he leaves to figure out what she called for he turns to you and lifts an accusing finger towards you.

“We ain’t done baby, ya gonna make it up to me for teasin and leavin me all high and dry, mkay?” He tilts his head almost to intimidate you but to no avail you’re just a massive brat “Hmmm sure Joeliii but i think your underwear is anything but dry.” You giggle and continue “Probably full of pre cum am I right,huh?”

Joel can’t believe what he’s gotten himself into and just shakes his head while turning to the house.

Somehow he made it through the barbecue without your mother noticing any tension between Joel and you. Stupid of her but good for you.

In the weeks after that afternoon you and him kept secretly meeting up. Most of the time at his house or he’d pick you up with his truck to drive you somewhere where he could have you without any distractions, of course when your mom wasn’t home. She might be stupid but even to her it would be weird why you suddenly start taking trips with Joel and she should not be suspicious.

Also during the talks with Joel that happened when taking a break between fucking it was once again made clear that he for whatever reason had not an ounce of knowledge about your mom’s crush.

The plan for how the reveal should go was set in motion. Your mom was driving out to one of those weird grocery stores that sold the health powders she drowned herself in, in hopes of making her more pretty from the inside out but to no avail the rot can’t be reversed.

You knew how long that would take her, it gave you enough time to fuck Joel in her favorite spot on the couch. Yeah petty and perhaps childish but you don’t care make her remember how you defiled her lovely couch with the man she was in love with.

Joel showed up 10 minutes after she drove off. You barely got the door closed behind him before he pounced on you. It’s been a few weeks since you fucked him last, you wanted him to be desperate for it so he’ll might be more focused on pounding you then notice that your mother is returning.

He immediately slotted his lips over yours, his hands grabbing at your hips with urgency.

You spin with him attached to your lips so you can guide him where you want him, on the couch. His breathing is already elevated and by the significantly evident bulge he’s massively turned on. Good, the less rational thinking the better.

While you push him towards the couch his lips slip down your jaw and land on your throat kissing and sucking all over. Between those kisses he huffs “Babyyy - I’ve - missed - ya so - much…” you just hum as an answer and when the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch he’s forced to unlatch from you.

He falls back, his head hitting the soft pillows so he’s only slightly elevated. You wink at him “yeah I bet you have and most of all He has missed me huh? Looks almost painful, did you not touch yourself in meantime?”

He sounds a bit whiny in his response “No Baby haven’t touched myself, saved it all for ya greedy little pussy.” Even when you think to have the upper hand he reminds you how different it actually is. “Come on baby, why don’t ya take of that lil skirt an’ take seat on my lap.” While grabbing at his crotch.

Your mouth is watering but there’s no time today to get your mouth on him like you usually love to. At his dirty words you can feel some wetness gush from your pulsing cunt, coating the inside of your thighs. As requested you slip your flowy skirt down your legs.

Joel let's out a gasp „No panties baby? Ya naughty little slut.“ he chuckles and you retort „Don’t need them if I’m with you, so why make it harder than it needs to be?“ at that Joel can only nod.

„Come here Sweet Moon Love.“ he demands.

You get on your hands and knees between his spread legs that lay on the couch. Slowly crawling towards him teasing him with your tits that are almost spilling out of your skimpy tank top.

When you finally sit down on his jeans-covered cock he lets out a sound of relief. Your knees on either side of his hips and his hands immediately find home on your hips and ass, kneading and caressing the skin there.

„Fuck Moon ya turn me on so much take of that goddamn top and show me those sweet sugar tits.“

So you do, slipping it over your head and throwing it somewhere behind you. He’s not surprised by the lack of a bra. He knows you hate wearing them and if he’s honest he loves that a lot, easier access and all.

Joel’s hands go from your hips up to the tits he loves so much. Carefully touching them, his warm hands and the wonderful feeling making it unable not to moan. Swiping his calloused fingers over your nipples, twisting them with determination causing you to keen.

You start arching your back towards his groping hands. His administrations cause the pull in your lower stomach to Continuously get stronger. You are convinced his jeans are covered in your juices and without realizing you’ve started to rub your bare pussy over his bulge with vigor.

„Joel enough I need you inside me, now!“ You don’t even wait for a response, lifting your hips and loosening his belt and unbuttoning the buttons of his jeans. With his help you drag his pants down but only so much that you are able to pull his throbbing cock out of the confines that are his blue boxers and you can see a huge dark spot where pre cum leaked, making you look at Joel chuckling „You really want it huh? Daddy” with a sweet lilt that makes his dick Twitch in your hands.

He just groans “Baby Moon if ya don’t sit down on my cock right now I’ll do it myself and I won’t give ya time to adjust.” He threatens but it really only turns you on more.

You peer up at the clock and see that you only have about 15 minutes left.

You take your original position and when his warm length slips through your moist folds his pre cum mixing with your own juices to create an addicting squelching sound.

At this point the dark hair nestling at the base of his cock and his happy trail are completely soaked.

“Gosh, Sweetheart she’s gushing all over me, put it in. She wants my cock don’t keep her waitin” you love when he talks in this way about your cunt, makes you wetter if that’s even possible.

You lift up a bit again and take hold of his length with one hand, the other on his chest to stabilize yourself. Dragging his leaking head through your glossy folds before lining him up with your gushing opening. You take one deep inhale cuz you know it’ll be a stretch even with how often you've done this.

Before sinking down on him you look at him there’s guilt somewhere deep in your conscience but you shake your head, you ain’t backing out now.

You slowly start to sink down when Joel decides it’s not quick enough so he grips your hips and in one swift fast motion sheets his huge dick inside your tight cunt.

“Ahhh..-ah J-Joel what the fuck” you hiss slapping his chest hard for being so impatient.

He huffs “Sorry Baby but Daddy has waited long enough for Her, just shush.” He actually has the audacity to shush you.

You get used to the feeling of being so filled to the brim and slide back & forth for a moment.

Then you put your feet down flat on the couch and grip the headrest behind him before starting to fuck him in earnest. Up and down at first slowly but steadily you get quicker and harder. Joel can’t even speak unless you count his obnoxiously loud moaning and growling.

“Yeah how you like that old man, hmm Daddy you're all quiet this pussy shut you up good, huh?” You wonder and out of nowhere one of Joel’s big hands grips your throat making you slow your movements to a minimum. He pulls your face toward his and grunts “Baby Moon ya need to be put in your place, ya bratty ass is treading on some mighty thin ice.”

He gives you one hard peck and then shoves your face in his neck. You don’t complain, you love when he’s so rough with you and his musky masculine smell is your favorite.

Joel pulls his legs up and plants his feet on the couch just like you did and then he starts to relentlessly push up into you at an alarming speed so hard that if it weren’t for the arm pinning you to his chest you’d fall off.

“Jo-Joel….Joel it’s so good ah…don’t stop” you babble in his ear and opposite to his harsh pounding he soothes “Shhh Baby I know, I know it’s so much for ya and Her. But listen to how much she’s enjoying it.”

And he’s right besides the obscene “plap, plap, plap” of skin hitting skin you can hear the wet squelching from the place you're both connected. “I’m close baby, where?” He asks while slipping a hand between your bodies to touch your neglected clit and immediately your whiny moans get even louder “I-in…inside Daddy. Pleaseee cum inside me.”

You beg and he loves that “Hmm yeah, ya wanna be filled up Baby?” He questions “God yes Daddy fill me up, please pleasee” you want nothing more than to feel him spill inside of you.

Seems that when Joel told you he was kinda deaf in his right ear it wasn’t a lie or maybe the plan of making him so desperate to fuck you that he won’t hear the door unlocking worked out.

But you can hear the slight clicking and the closing of the door. Unlike what you expect she does not start screaming, no, she’s eerily quiet. Perhaps it’s due to not having realized who exactly you're screwing as if there’s no tomorrow or simple shock.

Joel under you seems to have reached his end and without any preamble he starts shooting his warm cum deep inside your tight hole. The warm sensation combined with his unrelenting rubbing your clit pushes you over the finish line too. With that you pull up from his neck and drag him up as well, crossing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

You know she is right there at the threshold, you don’t care and to rub it in even more you say “Thank you Daddy, I love you.” And as if he knows his role Joel answers “I love you too little Moon.”

And that might have been the final straw, she speaks up and it flips out into incoherent screaming. Joel is immediately startled; he lightly pushes you off, quickly tugging himself back into his jeans and getting up to explain. You however get up slowly and put your top and skirt back on.

With the lack of panties you can feel his spend leaking out of you and you’re sure there’s very evident stains on Joel’s jeans that your mother must see.

The back and forth they must be having doesn’t even register to you. The blissful buzzing from the orgasm and the satisfaction of having succeeded in hurting her are making you all dozzy.

But then she comes charging at you screaming in your face “You’re smiling, you think this is funny??? I knew you were a bitch who only ruins everything, you are a worthless piece of shit a absolute waste of space” she’s so hysterical but you don’t care, it’s good she’s showing her true colors for Joel to see.

She continues “You are disgraceful and shameful for the entire family. I want you out of the house now. You are dead to me.” She probably thinks those words could hurt but it’s nothing compared to all the horrible things she did in the past. You just smirk at her nodding which infuriates her more than any comeback could.

With that you slip past her, Joel looks completely stunned by what just unfolded before his eyes. You don’t acknowledge him much, quickly skipping up the stairs,entering your room, grabbing a suitcase and filling it with the most important items. Then shuffling out of your room locking it behind you. You heave the suitcase down the stairs, no sign of Joel all you can hear is her crying in the living room, it amuses you, not an ounce of sympathy left for her. You don’t bother saying bye just open the front door and out you are.

The surprise is waiting in front of the house, Joel, he didn’t leave but instead waited for you.

He looks at you “Did it mean anything to you at all, or was it just a big joke?” He doesn’t look hurt, just confused. You close the distance between him and you “I wish it wouldn’t but it’s not possible to not feel anything, look at you Joel you’re a so beautiful so caring of course I fell for you.” He nods and takes your suitcase out of your hand. “Wh..what are you doing ?” You question “I’m taking ya home Moon, think I’d let you run around these streets? Get in the car” he urges.

And you do, when he drives off you don’t look back once.

Npt: @joelmillerisapunk @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelslegalwhre @thundermartini @studioghibelli @sizzlingcloudmentality @vivian-pascal @strang3lov3 @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @joelsgreys @janaispunk @sizzlingcloudmentality @the-mandawhor1an @clawdee @penvisions 🩶

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

a day in the life where everyone tries to win reader over, maybe they heard reader mention something like how they can't stand an annoying relative asking them about a relationship over the holidays, or trying to get her the best gift?

ps i love your writing, i read it like my morning paper

A Day in Life: Christmas, Presents and Revelations

Synopsis: A day in your life full of good Christmas presents, propositions and secrets.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader

Tw: Implied stalking; Calling someone a manwhore; Karens in the family with traditional and conservative ideals and miserable lives; Mentions of past cheating; Mentions of past Bucky Barnes X reader; Is Hal Jordan slowly getting his redemption arc?; Slightly implied horny Reader; English is not my first language.

Word count: 2,2k

Requested? Yup.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

— And it's just so annoying, like, sometimes I literally don't want to show up on these things, but I don't want to leave my mom there alone with my dad’s family. — You huffed. — My auntie’s too concerned about my romantic life, like her husband didn't get other three women pregnant at the same time she got pregnant and only married her because he would have to marry one of the four girls. — You shook your head while your co-worker laughed. — And you know what's worse? I told everyone I had a boyfriend, but Bucky cheated on me, and I didn't tell them that yet, so she's gonna think I lied and mock me like the middle-aged Regina George she is!

Unknown to you, certain people were listening, and silently, each one of them made a decision.

Your last day at work before Christmas, you were getting ready to go home, pack and take the road, when someone knocked on your office door. You looked up, seeing no other than Martian Manhunter at your door, holding a present.

— How can I help? — You hid your gritted teeth behind a polite tone.

— I came here to follow the Earth tradition of Christmas and give my loved one a present. — He stopped in front of you with a soft smile and extended the gift in your direction. You hesitated.

— You didn't have to… — You cautiously took the present from his hand.

— I also have a proposition for you. — And there it comes. — I couldn't help but overhear earlier that you were in need of a partner for a meeting with your family. — You wanted to facepalm. — I could be that person. — You sighed.

— I can't show up with an alien superhero. — You crossed your arms with a pointed look.

— As you know, I'm a shapeshifter. — You watched as he changed his appearance to look like multiple different kind of people, one moment he was a tall blonde man, the next, a black girl with braids, then an asian young guy, and so on, meaning he could look however you wanted him to. — And you can call me by whatever name you choose, even the name I adopted here on Earth… J’onn J’onnes. — He settled for his usual green alien appearance. — You widened your eyes at his confession, thinking “oh, shit”.

— Uhh…

— While you think about it, open my present, darling. — He gently pushed the present in your direction again and you, still wordless, obeyed, while mentally searching for a way out of this.

You cleared your throat and teared the paper. The feeling of destroying the wrapping paper of gifts always made you feel a little embarrassed, as if the beautiful wrapping itself was the present and you were being rude by tearing it apart. It was a silly thought.

As you finished, you found out he gave you a comic book from your favorite hero. It made you excited, but you couldn't show it much.

— Oh wow, thank you… — You coughed. — Can't even imagine how you knew it was my favorite… — You internally rolled your eyes. — Anyway, about your offer- — Another knock interrupted you, and you both looked at the door. Aquaman was there with another present in hand.

He looked suspiciously from you to the other hero and stepped forward, then focused on you.

— Whatever offer he gave you, I give you one better. Take a king to meet your family, darling. — He smirked and offered you his present. You ignored what he said, settled the comic on your desk, and opened his present. It was a necklace with charms related to the beach, like some shells, pears and fishes, all made of your favorite metal. You pursed your lips, not waiting to admit to yourself that it was pretty and you liked it more than you thought you would, just like the last gift.

— Thank you. And about your offer, I can't exactly do that. You can imagine why. — He shrugged.

— Well, you can simply take me as your completely human lighthouse keeper, Arthur. — He smirked and wrapped your shoulders with his left arm. You shuddered, thinking “God, no”. — We’ll even invite them to our beach house, darling. Right on the shore. I also have a boat. Let's impress them. — He grinned proudly, as if he was sure you couldn't deny him.

You shrugged his arm off and before anything came out of your mouth, you remembered about your auntie and her shittalking right now. She always wanted a beach house, but everyone knew your uncle prefered to spoil himself and his side-pieces than her or the kids, and yet, she felt superior to every member of the family who was single because at least she had a husband and she didn't need to work, including you.

Rubbing a beach house, a boat, and a blonde hunk himbo on her face could be nice… Even if you just offered to take only your immediate family there one day and then just pretend you broke up with him later, he and the league would still get the wrong idea.

— Knock knock, oh- What’s everyone doing here? — Flash was there and pursed his lips while looking at the three of you. You groaned internally.

— You can go, Flash, (Y/N) won't choose you. — Aquaman, or Arthur, weaved him off. Flash narrowed his eyes for a second and then turned to you, ignoring him and beaming at you, extending a gift in your direction.

— I bought you something! — You discharged the necklace behind you and took the new gift, it was a bracelet with a lightning symbol in your favorite metal. It was also pretty, you were getting tired of it.

— Thank you, Flash…

— Please, just call me Barry. — He grinned brightly. — Please ignore the stinking ugly dressed fishman and the alien still learning to act like a normal human. You can take the funny and smart forensic chemist to meet your family. — He reached up and took his mask off, you widened your eyes, at seeing his real face. Huh, you didn't think he was blonde.

You stuttered, too shocked.

— Oh God… — You thought knowing their name was worse than their faces, secret identities and all, but something about seeing a real face that was kept hidden all the time felt like a heavier burden. To make matters worse, Green Lantern showed up. — No.

— Just hear me out, please! — Everyone turned to him with annoyed expressions. — I changed, I swear! And I apologized like, a thousand times. — He cleared his throat. By your face, he knew it was the worst thing to say. — Anyway, here’s your gift. — He bit his lip while you took it from his hands and opened it with hostility. They were tickets for the next concert of one of your favorite artists, that made you feel a little bad for the way you treated him, but it didn't change what he did to you in the past.

— I… Thank you. — You were trembling with nerves at this point from all the surprises you were having.

— I heard you needed someone to bring home for the holidays…

— Uhuh.

— And your dad is a big fan of the army, right? — You blinked. It was true, but you never told them that, yet, you weren't surprised they knew that.

Where was he going with it…?

— Please, not you too.

But he took off his ring anyway, and after a moment, he was wearing civilian clothes, along with a military jacket and dogtags.

— Who better than a charming ex-air force member to present to your family? Test pilot now, I can take them flying. Actually, I can take you flying. — He winked. — Call me Hal Jordan, beautiful. — He winked and saluted you. — Also, I fought in the war.

— Dude. Just give up. They're not gonna pick you.

— I will never give up, I'm a green lantern, strong will is kind of my thing. — He looked at you again. — So, darling?

While you were staring blankly at him, someone cleared their throat.

— Be reasonable, you don't have to be humiliated today. — Wonder Woman catwalked into the room confidently. She was holding two bags from a clothes store in her hands. The amazon pushed Hal Jordan aside and stopped in front of you. She looked you up and down and smiled charmingly. — Take me with you, darling. This is for you. — She extended one of the bags to you. You took it and looked inside, then reached in and pulled it out. It was a beautiful outfit, completely on your style, and clearly of good quality. But when she pulled out what was inside the other bag, it took your attention and you looked curiously at the red wine satin dress she was holding up. — And this is what I will be wearing. — She smiled seductively. — Diana Prince, pleasure to meet you.

You couldn't help your jaw from dropping while imagining her wearing that. While some family members might not admire the sensual outfit as much, you definitely would. Secretly. Your ego would too.

Damn it, why couldn't she be more normal and less yandere?

You swallowed, looking away from her and the dress. It was finally too hard to say no, but not for the mature reasons.

At your silence, Diana’s eyebrows rose up and she tilted her head to the side, with a pleased small smile. The other men in the room groaned and started arguing loudly, but she was untouchable in front of you.

Unstoppable force, meet immovable object.

— I think I should just go home, it's getting late… — You rapidly shoved your gifts inside the bag, took your things and squeezed your way between them heroes, not even realizing how trapped you were previously, but just as you got to the door, you hit a brick wall, or Superman, as people usually call him.

You groaned and he looked at you sheepishly.

— I guess after all of that I can't offer you something much better, but I can try… — Superman took a deep breath and before you could blink, he flew away, changed clothes, and came back. One second, Superman was in front of you, the next, just a regular cute guy wearing glasses and a suit. You took a second to recognize him and understand what happened and what that meant.

Damn, who knew glasses were a good disguise.

— I'm Clark, Clark Kent. I grew up on a farm in Kansas and I work as a journalist at the Daily Planet. — He smiled shyly and gave you his gift. — I hope you like it…

You blinked and catatonically looked at the thing he gave you. Differently from the last gifts, it wasn't neatly wrapped and it had a weird shape, but by how it felt in your hands, you guessed what it was.

You expected the sight of a Superman plushie to greet you, but instead, it was a plushie of your favorite fictional superhero. The same hero from the Martian’s comic.

Well, it was cute. You would probably fall for him if you didn't know better. You held back an awed sound that wanted to spill from the back of your throat.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by all the Justice League groaning a collective and loud “GET OUT”, you looked up, confused and curious by what caused all this, surprised by seeing it was just Batman entering the room.

Huh, why did everyone react like that?

He stared at you, then at every single one of them, silently, almost disapproving, or disappointed, but then, he smirked when he looked at you again.

Batman was smirking? You flinched.

— This is for you. — He gave you a big box. It was surprisingly heavy. When you opened it, there was a very expensive and beautiful pair of shoes, something you only dreamed of having and was always on your Pinterest board. Only digital influencers and celebrities wearing it, making you jealous. But that wasn't all. There was also jewelry and a very expensive bottle of wine. You will definitely take it to the holidays to impress your family. Or maybe keep it to a very special occasion. — And there’s more from where it came from. — He reached for his cowl and your breath hitched. Never in your wildest dreams you thought this day would happen.

He took of the cowl, and in front of your was…

Bruce Wayne?!

While everyone deflated, knowing they lost, you just had to hold back your laugh, but a snort still escaped. That took everyone off for a second, including the always stoic hero in front of you, who was clearly bewildered when you couldn't hold back anymore and laughed to his face.

— You think I'm gonna show up to my family with the nacional manwhore? HA! Yeah, that's gonna impress them for the first five minutes, then I will be the dummy who’s gonna be traded for the next top model. — You shook your head, still laughing. Bruce frowned deeper. You slightly feared for your job after you bluntly called him a manwhore.

— I would never do that to you. My affairs are all to deceive the public and keep my job a secret.

— And that might be true, but my family doesn't know that! Or are you gonna tell this to everyone? Funny. Billionaires are so delusional and out of touch… — You shook your head and walked out.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

[luveline]

I love love LOVE the writing you've done for Spencer Reid!!! I'm practically living off of it at this point. I was thinking since we All love Spencer wearing glasses, what if the roles were reversed and HE was the one getting flustered after seeing reader in glasses for the first time?

thank u!!

“Where is she?” 

Spencer doesn’t have to look to guess what ‘she’ Morgan is wondering after. “She texted. She woke up late.” 

“Late? Is that BAU approved?” Morgan asks.

“I think her phone is broken.” 

Emily shakes a hair tie down her hand. Morgan holds her compact mirror open for her. “She’s not the only one running late. I swear the night gets shorter every time I fall sleep.” She wrinkles her nose, collecting her hair into one hand behind her head, wrapping her tie around in an impressive, painful looking ponytail. Morgan passes her a comb. She neatens up her bangs. 

Spencer’s head finally lifts at the sound of your hasty entrance and following apologies, “I’m sorry, shit, oh, sorry. I’m really sorry, Anderson, I’ll make it up to you,” you say, hidden behind Anderson’s tall stature.

“That’s okay, L/N. Hey, what’s with the glasses?” 

Spencer squints, willing Anderson to move out of the way. “It’s a long story,” you say, shuffling past Anderson to hurry to the front of the bullpen. Spencer locks onto your face,. His hands fall into his lap. 

You’re wearing clear-rimmed glasses with metal legs that slip down your nose the closer you get, your makeup lighter than usual, and your clothes a repeat of what you wore yesterday, though he’s probably the only person who’d notice. He barely gives your rumpled blouse a second glance, too distracted by your hand, your fingers as you push the glasses up the bridge of your nose. “Is Hotch in yet?” you ask hopefully. 

“He’s been here since five,” Morgan tells you, double-taking when he spots your new accessory. “Oh my god, you’re adorable.” 

You raise a hand between you both to hide your face from his view. 

Spencer gets out of his chair. “I was really hoping he’d be late too,” you say, turning to Spencer with a gentle pout. “It’s like wishing to win the lottery, I guess.” 

Holy shit. He’s breaking a sweat. There’s heat gathering at the base of his neck, worse when you push the glasses up again, your eyes shiny and wide-pupiled behind them. “You’re wearing glasses,” Spencer says.

“Oh, I know, I kept that secret, huh? My left contact got all dried up and I figured I didn’t have time to mess around, so you’re forced to suffer me like this.” You put your hand bashfully under your chin, a cherub posing. “I look like an old lady.” 

“No you don’t.” 

“I do, I look aged.” You put your bag on the floor by his chair and brush your hands down your clothes. “Spencer, it’s hopeless. I look like I slept in it. Maybe my glasses are atrocious enough to distract everyone.” 

“They’re not atrocious, you look beautiful.”

He immediately breaks eye contact to stare at your shoulder. Why did I say that? he thinks. Why do I talk so much? Heat fills his cheeks in a matter of seconds, but he holds his breath rather than let it out, totally frozen. 

Emily’s laughing as you step forward, hand out to touch his arm. You tilt your head to one side and Jesus, he wasn’t lying, you make his heart stop just looking at you. “You think so?” you ask softly. 

You aren’t laughing. Spencer nods, a tight up and down. 

Your lips press together in a shy smile. 

“They’re both as bad as each other!” Emily whisper-shouts. 

“What’s the matter, Reid, cat got your tongue?” Morgan asks. 

You push your glasses up your nose again, still smiling to yourself, so Spencer doesn’t mind his humiliation. You don’t call yourself atrocious again. If anything, you glow.

[darnell-la]

i’m actually so in love with your writing! Could i request Oldman!Logan x married reader having sex for the first time in forever bc he’s getting sick and age is showing in him and he isn’t healing but he wants to prove he can still keep up

note: Logan and his little emotional ass…

———

“Logan, what are you doing here? What happened!?” Y/n asked, worried after seeing his state. The man had bullet holes in him. He was bleeding and looked like he was close to passing out.

“Need you, bub,” Logan said, meaning it in so many different ways, but y/n only thought of one as she pulled him into her shared house.

Y/n dragged the man to her shared room and pulled him to the bathroom. “The fuck, Logan — I thought you were done with that shit,” y/n felt horrible seeing him like this.

He went down after she broke up with him because of his unemotional ways. He didn’t show emotion when she left the mansion, but people noticed the change in his mood.

Logan was always an asshole, but he had a soft spot for sweet people. After y/n left, he felt no need to be that man anymore.

“Just a little fight. Nothin’ serious, princess,” Logan said as y/n sat him on the toilet. “Logan, not right now, please,” Y/n said before she went into her closet to find things to help him.

Logan was confused for a second, wondering why she didn’t like the nickname until he remembered. He took a look at her hand and noticed the ring he prayed wasn’t real.

After hearing the news of her marriage, he couldn’t take it. He tried reaching out to her, but she was a ghost.

After finally finding her, he noticed how happy she looked. That was decades ago, and since then, he’s just kept his distance. Still watching her, but never approaching.

“You’re still with him, huh?” Logan asked, sounding heartbroken all over again. “Yes, I am, and he gets home tomorrow night, so I need you out of here quick,” y/n said, aching the man.

“Can’t stay until he gets here? Maybe meet the man or something?” Logan asked, making y/n sigh loudly as she finally found what she needed. “No, Logan — Me and you haven’t talked in years, so there’s no need,”

“We haven’t talked because of you,” the man said in a low voice. “Yeah, because-“ y/n cut herself off as she noticed her tone getting higher. She shouldn’t be upset anymore. They’re done.

“Just- Let’s get you cleaned up,” y/n walked back over to Logan. The two stayed quiet as she took his shirt off to see what she had to work with. “Fuckin’ hell, Logan,” y/n shooter her head.

Even though this wasn’t the man’s fault, he looked down with a sad look, disappointed that he got worse over the years, and never better for her to see and maybe want him back.

“He treats you good?” Logan asked, trying to get rid of the silence. It’s been too many years of silence. “Alright,” y/n said, answering drily because she felt embarrassed about her life.

“Why just alright? I see he buys you stuff- On social media — I-I have you on social media,” Logan saved himself after y/n gave him a confused look. Y/n sighed with a nod, not wanting to tell him or anyone why he gave her those gifts.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Logan asked with a slightly serious face after noticing her body language. After all these years, Logan could tell when something was wrong.

“Please, just- Let’s get this done, okay?” Y/n said before using a pair of tweezers to pull one of the bullets out. “Fuck! Fuck- wait,” Logan softly grabbed the girl's wrists as he stood up. “I’ve got this part,”

Logan slowly walked over to the bathroom sink to lean on it, resting and taking deep breaths for what he was about to do.

Y/n was confused until the man began pushing out bullets with low groans, trying to hide the pain he was in.

Y/n placed a hand on his back, comforting him so he would mentally feel better about this all. She couldn’t look at him like this.

“Just a few stitches, okay?” Y/n rubbed the man’s back after he got all of the bullets out. “No, it’ll heal itself. Just need it cleaned,” the man said before sitting back down on the toilet, already missing her back touched.

y/n wanted to ask why he came here if he wouldn't help him stitch up, but she kept her mouth closed and didn't ask. He finally had a small reason to show up and be let in her house.

“Lo — Logan, you need it,” y/n slipped up by calling him by the nickname she gave the man. Logan looked up at the woman, eyes lighting up at her words, but face expression tired.

He was tired of life. He was tired of living without y/n. He was tired of being distant from y/n. He was tired of going home and having an empty bed while she came home to whoever the man was she married.

“I need you,” Logan said, making y/n scoff, feeling tears fill her eyes in an instant. “Logan, if you’re not gonna let me help you, then you have to leave,” she hated saying.

“C’mon, baby — Just take me back,” Logan on off of the toilet and stepped towards her. Y/n instantly turned around, not wanting to look at him. She can’t. She’s married now.

“C’mere,” Logan said softly as he hugged y/n from the back, leaning down to sniff her neck. “You still smell good,” he said under his breath as his hands rubbed her waist and stomach.

“Logan, I can’t,” y/n said, not pushing him off, but hoping he’d pull back. She couldn’t bring herself to push his old but missing scent away.

“C’mon, baby — If you couldn’t, then you would’ve pushed him off a while ago,” he said, and he was right. That’s when y/n turned around and placed her hands on his chest, pushing, but he grabbed them, keeping her hands on him.

“I’m sorry, y/n — I wasn’t good back then, but I am now. I’ll do anything to get you back. To get all of those years without you, back,” Logan’s hands softly grabbed her cheeks.

“I-I can’t, Logan — I have a husband, and he- He treats me right,” y/n lied, and he knew it instantly. All the years away from his girl, he still knew when she was lying and not doing well. Her slight body language change does not lie.

“You don’t have to lie to me, princess. If he doesn’t treat you right, I won’t laugh, judge or make you feel like shit,” Logan said as tears slipped past her eyelids.

“Hey, hey — Don’t cry, okay? This is my fault. You’re with him because I wasn’t man enough to deal with love. I was scared, and I let us get together knowing I should’ve ghosted you. I should’ve fuckin’ stopped it right then, but I didn’t because I love you, y/n,”

“I’m so stupid,” y/n buried her face in the man’s chest as she cried. Logan’s own tears slipped past his eyelids, hearing y/n cry like this after all of these years.

If only he had been a better man, a better boyfriend, she wouldn’t be like this. What has she been going through, through all these years? Anything negative was his fault. All of it.

“Baby, no, you’re not. I am. If I just did better, you’d be with me. We’d both be happier,” Logan pulled y/n’s face back as he wiped her tears. “Need you to stitch me up like you wanted. Take care of me, then I’ll take care of you. Till the day I die,”

Y/n isn’t invincible, but she does take a bit longer to die off. She’s nothing like Logan though, so getting together at this time, especially since his regenerating powers aren’t working well anymore, is perfect.

“Mhmkay,” y/n said low, feeling her heart grow for the man again. “Please stop crying, baby. Gonna make me feel bad,” Logan playfully pouted as he lifted her chin. “Good,” she giggled low.

“So good, baby. Always so fuckin’ good, baby,” Logan whispered in the girl's ear after slipping past her folds, filling her up until he had no more to give. She took him so well. Like they have not stopped being together.

“Oh my god, Logan,” y/n cried as she scratched his back, drawing a little blood. He almost forgot how strong she was. He never really paid attention. She was always his sweet little girl.

He cursed himself for being an asshole towards her. All he had to do was tell her when he felt down. All he had to do was ask for help. All he had to do was accept that it’s okay to not be okay. She would’ve been happy to help.

“Gonna keep you, baby. Gonna take you from your sad excuse of a husband,” Logan snapped his hips, shaking at the feeling of being someone he hadn’t been in for years. Since her, he hasn’t been with anyone. Not one soul.

“Ima treat you better, baby. Gonna show him how to be a man,” Logan didn’t know how the man was. He knew nothing about him, only the fake news he puts out on social media, but by the way, y/n was clenching around him and not calling her husband to get Logan out of their home, he knew the man was a dick.

“You’re gonna tell me everything about him, y/n. Don’t miss one detail. Gonna show him what happens when he makes my girl cry at the thought of him,”

Logan’s hands rubbed y/n’s cheek, watching her jaw go slack as his hips bucked up into his, chasing after her orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Forgot about that rich prick. Knew he wasn’t no good,” Logan talked like he knew the man personally. Even if he wasn’t a bad person, Logan didn’t care. Y/n was his, and his only.

“Fuckin’ hell — Still squeezin’ me tight like back in the day, when you cum,” Logan reminded the woman as she came all over his cock. “So pretty when you did it too. Now you look better because we’re finally officially,”

Y/n was confused at first until he spoke. “You’re my wife. And I’m your husband. You’ve always been mine, and I’ll show you that. Gonna show you all the years you’ve missed out on me, baby,”

Logan smashed his lips onto y/n’s, hungrily kissing her as he pounded, making sure to fuck her into the mattress. He was old, and his body ached, but the adrenaline was still there. He wanted to fuck her for hours. Mark her for hours. He wanted to do everything with her for hours until her shitty husband came back to the sight of her taking his cock better than she could ever take her husbands.

“That’s it, baby — Gonna fill this little girl up like I should’ve done years ago. Trap you with me and never let you go,” Logan’s hands found hers and locked. He pinned them beside her head and leaned into her neck, sucking as he groan.

The man couldn’t help himself, sniffing and growling into the girl's neck as he spilled into her, hard. Cumming so deep, she swore she felt it swirl in her stomach.

“F-Fuck,” y/n cried low, feeling complete. The feeling of him in her, marking her, and telling her she was his, made her heart grow. Fuck her husband. She couldn’t wait until he came home to the sight of Logan claiming her.

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓼: 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸

Stepdad!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: The year is 1979 and it's the summer after graduation. You want to make the most of the vacation, but going to shady dance bars is a lot harder now that your new stepfather works for the DEA.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, cops and raids, stepdad trope and all that comes with, minor DUBCON, big juicy age gap [reader is 18/19 when she meets Javi, Javi is in his mid 40s], reader wears a dress, petnames, mommy issues ™ , alcohol consumption, mean!brat tamer!dom!Javi then soft!Javi, brat!reader, rough sex, “virginity” loss & minor mention of blood, sex in the woods on the hood of Javi’s car, mentions of F masturbation, some reader x oc, Javi gives reader her first orgasm, major size kink [Javi is bigger than the reader, can rough house with her], degradation, dumbification, reader is insanely horny, satanic levels of dirty talk, finger sucking, choking, spanking [with a belt and hand] , a few slaps [as always], fingering, unprotected P in V [be better!!], creampie. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶

Word count: 7.2k

A/N: I am impossibly excited for this stepdad trilogy. This is part 1/3 so it’s only 1/3 the fun and debauchery. Few Easter eggs thrown in.. see if you can spot em 🤭.This is set up after the events of season 2 and before the events of season 3, in a year where Javi is taking a break before Cali, but feel free to imagine otherwise. Enjoy!!

Masterlist

​​Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out had a heart of glass

Seemed like the real thing, only to find

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

Once I had a love and it was divine

Soon found out I was losing my mind

It seemed like the real thing, but I was so blind

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

You stood at the entrance, one foot tapping restlessly on the wooden floorboards. In an effort to keep your head down you fiddled aimlessly with the clasp on your watch, knowing full well you weren’t going to be paying attention to anything but the time that flashed on its face. An older, blonde woman came stomping onto the patio, swinging the wooden door behind you so hard on her way the rattle it produced when it slammed shut knocked the flimsy “BAR” sign right off. You jumped, then took another step away from the establishment.  

You could almost feel the bass of the engine thrumming in your chest as it got closer. The tires crunched against the gravel as it neared. You still couldn’t see it. You hoped it was her. 

It wasn’t long before a red convertible was nearing, the number plate sending a shaky, relieved sigh hurtling past your lips. Agitated, drunk and anxiety ridden, you ran towards and then jumped into Lorrain’s car– hoping and praying the ride would give you a beat to sober up. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d had to sneak back into your room well past midnight. It was so much of a habit you could sell a course on how to accomplish it with the utmost skill and precision. What was rare, however, was having to perform the task while shaken up so severely. The side of your small, once welcoming home seemed more alien than ever, your bedroom looking far higher off the ground than you remembered. 

Nevertheless, a few missteps and about 10 minutes later you stumbled through your open window, quickly stripping to your underwear and shoving your dirty, alcohol laced clothes under your bed. You cursed your “parents” at the fact that you still needed to do this shit like a fucking highschooler. 

The sound of feet padding towards your bedroom door startled you, and you jumped to pull on your sleep shorts before what you knew was your stepdad coming up the stairs. 

You hoped and prayed he hadn't caught wind of the way you screamed when your foot missed the ledge below your window, or worse, that his partner hadn’t given him a call to inform him of the familiar face he saw at the shack that night. 

No matter how many times you liked to imagine he would bend you over his knee and discipline you, how many times you imagined it was him with his hand under your skirt or head between your legs as some clumsy 20 year old rutted against your thigh, you knew full well if Javier actually ever caught your antics, the consequences were going to be a whole lot less ideal than that. 

As you jumped under the covers you recalled the way Agent Steve Murphy had cocked his head at you back at the bar. The way your stepfather’s partner had squinted his eyes at you in confusion, doing a double take at your skimpy outfit, short dress and boots, the way the men at the bar had their hands all over you. 

You prayed it wasn’t too late before you turned your head away, that it wasn’t too late before you swiftly moved out of that bar, before he could be sure it was you he was seeing. 

Because if he was, there would be absolute hell to pay. 

—

One summer, when you were maybe eight or nine, you developed an absurd obsession with riding your bike up the slope that led away from your small town. Eventually, the uphill roads veered away, twisting and turning into a thousand different rocky paths that converged at one point only a few hundred metres from the large sign that welcomed people into the town. The singular, welcoming road led straight into the woods. Back then, it seemed endless, providing a warm, hospitable buffer for the hills that loomed over the town with a somewhat protective intimidation. Like the woods were watching over your every move. 

Everyday, for three months, you’d bust out your front door at 18:00 on the dot and make the journey uphill. Exhaustively pushing your bike past that sign and into what was nature's much welcome respite from your mothers neglectful cruelty. You collected rocks by the stream that ran through those woods, leaves and flowers to keep in your room. It was like they were magic. Like they wanted to get to know you, be your friend. The trees formed a canopy over you, like they wanted to shield you from the winds and the setting sun, and most importantly from the town below. 

One day you remember hearing some rustling coming from up the stream. You didn't think much of it, must have been a deer or something of the sort. You continued foraging for little flowers and rocks, that was until you came across something that didn't really belong. A piece of white lace. It looked new, but dirty, there was cotton under half of it. It seemed like it was part of a dress. Someone must have lost it up there. You didn't investigate. Things were calm and quiet again as usual, but it wasn't long before the rustling from upstream got louder, just slightly, and you heard the clatter of a metal rod to the ground, followed by a heavier, louder thud. 

You turned on your heel and away from the stream, it took you four minutes to find the welcome sign to your town again. By 19:00 you were home. 

You never went back to the woods again. That August your mother informed you you were going to school in the city. 

— 

To say you were unhappy to come home from boarding school to the news your mother was marrying a cop would be an understatement, and while you tried not to be too judgy and give him a chance, to say you were surprised when he turned out to be a complete authoritarian would be an even bigger understatement. 

You knew of Agent Peña, he was somewhat of a local celebrity. You’d seen him on your summers home since you were sixteen- picking up beers at the convenience store, smoking cigarettes outside the petrol station. You and your friends would often drool over him, wait for him to show up at a neighbourhood barbeque, or catch him taking a walk around the block. 

Eventually, you grew up, and outgrew your little hallway crush on the, now, mostly tiresome Agent Peña. Because soon you weren't sixteen. And his holier than thou, saviour complex, and affinity for order only made you roll your eyes. In fact he was quite annoying. He made little effort to contribute to the community, still riding his high from his days in Colombia. 

You wondered why those people revered him like he was taking bullets for your town. 

You were absolutely flabbergasted when you found out your mother was marrying him. At first, a little bit jealous for the teenager who once fawned over him, but quickly more concerned for the fact that he was actually someone who you’d have to interact with, and not just a piece of eye candy you could appreciate out and about. 

Hell, he was becoming family, and your stepfather no less. It was torturous. You did not need another person to worry about in your home. 

“So.. What’re you studying?” He crossed his left leg over the right, and asked you. His hand reached out to receive the glass of whiskey your mother poured him. He hadn’t been in your house for ten minutes and you already couldn’t stand his guts. Besides the fact that he was a cop, he had this air about him… what exactly, you weren’t quite sure. A superficial, macho exterior that felt like a bigger slap in the face than the fact that he was sitting on the nice, upholstered, expensive, armchair your father had paid for. 

Unsurprisingly, Agent Peña often indulged you in riveting conversation about the dangers of indulging in alcohol and drugs at a young age as he puffed on his cigarette, and lectured you, in what you knew as truly your mothers fashion, about how young people these days didn't know a thing, and that they must always respect and follow the lead of their elders. 

Much like mother dear, he paid little attention to you other than to reprimand you for whatever it was you weren’t doing correctly; for when you didn’t do the dishes on time, or were staying out too late, as if it was any of his business to even begin with. He seemed to really enjoy the protective dad role. It fit in well with the rest of his pathetic persona. 

No wonder they got along.

You remember almost gagging when he boasted about the college you were set to attend, one arm slung across your shoulder, at the party your aunt threw for your graduation. Like he had absolutely anything to do with it. You excused yourself partly to avoid the embarrassment and partly to roll your eyes. A small part of you enjoyed his proud boasting, but you were not ready to unpack that yet. 

In the time the couple weren’t circle jerking about their views, you were lucky enough to be the recipient of snide comments that were so obviously meant for your late father. To his credit Javier Peña didn’t involve himself in the conversation. You couldn’t say the same for a lot of your mother’s previous lovers. 

Since you were ten years old you had been making your own decisions, doing what you wanted and living on your terms. To return to your home for the summer after graduation, now 18, and have to abide by someone else’s meaningless regulations, was a rather harsh slap in the face. Not to mention this someone had been in your life all of two months, and really enjoyed acting like he knew anything about you, or your family. 

Sometimes, when you’d climb down the stairs of that quaint suburban home, the home that once belonged to your family, in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water or a snack, you’d see him sitting out on the porch, hunched over a whole bunch of shit you couldn’t bother caring about, with his ashtray dangerously close to all that flammable paper. 

His shirt stretched deliciously over his back, his hand reaching out to ash his cigarette every once in a while. You were glad he was infuriating, had he not been such a prick it might have revived the little bit of a crush you had on him. 

Sometimes you felt a little bit bad for rolling your eyes at him, or shutting down his attempts to initiate group plans. If you were being honest you were surprised when he didn’t blow up at you for talking back or being rude– that was when your mother wasn’t around. When she was, he didn’t have to. She would jump at any chance to start a fight. You were even more surprised when Javier tried to diffuse the situation. 

You figured soon enough that perhaps the Javier Peña you met a few months prior was putting quite the show on for his overbearing, obnoxious lover. Of course, you were sure he hardly saw her that way. He was perhaps a lot smarter than you gave him credit for. 

Javier often chided your mother when you spoke back to her, rather unexpectedly calling out her bad parenting and the behaviour she “modelled” for you when you were a child. You overheard them argue after a big blowout, from your room. It upset you that he was even getting involved. He tried to talk to you about it later, but that was the last thing you wanted to do. 

Obviously, you knew your hatred of them both had something to do with your psychologically deprived childhood, but it baffled you how neither of them, especially wannabe father of the year Javier Peña, didn’t realised your isolated anger would perhaps be diminished if they stopped trying to meddle in your life, the one neither of them seemed to care about unless something about it upset them. 

If he really cared about your wellbeing he’d take his wife and get the fuck out of your life. You were an adult, one that wasn’t going to listen to anyone, especially not the mother who packed you away all those years ago, and her hypocritical, infuriating husband. 

Thats why, despite having almost gotten caught and having your ass handed to you less than forty eight hours prior, you were back at the shack, drink in hand, stupidly forgetting exactly what had you scrambling to get out there in the first place. 

Who could have even blamed you? Your mother had been especially annoying that particular morning, and Javier and his buddies had colonised the house for a barbeque in the afternoon. In what even you recognised as somewhat juvenile rebelion, you decided the universe owed you some fun after having to endure their patronising, senseless chit chat all day. 

It wasn’t even that late, but you were already feeling it, the effects of the countless drinks you had downed over the course of the few hours you had been dancing at the bar. Nothing unusual in that, men often offered to buy you drinks, handsome ones at that, and you didn’t have the money to live extravagantly. Besides, if you weren’t going to use your charm what was it even there for? 

Was it Timmy? Tommy? You couldn't even recall his name by the time he was tossing you onto the counter in the bar’s bathroom. To be honest you couldn’t really figure out much of your surroundings, letting yourself get lost in the delicate, dizzy, tipsy haze as his hands slipped under your skirt to squeeze at your thighs. Your regular drunk hookup, or rather someone you disappointingly rolled around with till he finished and left you to roll your hips against your pillow wishing your hands were your Stepfather’s. 

His lips brushed your neck, sloppily planting kisses up and down your skin, nipping at your collar bones as he pushed himself between your legs. You closed your eyes and imagined he was Javier. The thought made you moan and you reached for his collar to pull him closer. He didn't smell like Javi, wasn't as big, his chest wasn’t as firm, his arms didn't envelop you like Javi’s did. 

You felt him swell against you, and you pushed against him, mind once again drifting to Javier standing at the grill in your backyard. His white linen shirt unbuttoned far too low, rolled up sleeves drawing your eyes to his forearms. He’d had a hand on his hip, a sliver of skin right above the band of his shorts just barely visible. 

He smiled at you, and you had worried he’d caught you staring. You revelled in the image. You recalled how he leaned against the edge of the pool with the afternoon sun beating down on his golden skin. You imagined his hands moving under your bra to squeeze your breast. 

You were rather embarrassingly enjoying the little montage of your stepdad that was playing in your head. You had almost forgotten it was tommy, or timmy rolling his hips against yours. If a loud, wall rattling thud hadn’t interrupted you, you would've enjoyed your little delusion even longer. 

To say you were startled was an understatement, you practically leaped right off the counter. Unable to really gather your bearings in time, you barely registered timmy, or tommy, scrambling to fix his shirt, you yourself rushing to cover up and fix the top of your dress. 

From the corner of your eye you caught a hand grab him by the shoulder and shove him towards the door, dragging him out of the bathroom and towards a building commotion outside. You heard people yelling, but couldn’t really make out what was going on. 

When you looked up and found Javier looking dead at you, instead of your little fling, you damn near collapsed. He looked like he was on the verge of a heart attack. In a second he was shutting the door behind him, and flicking the lock. You would’ve ran, but its not like you could go anywhere, besides, hed gotten a good look at your face gawking at him, like a fucking moron. 

It was over. 

“You’re fucking kidding me.” you hopped off the counter and tumbled into his chest.  He took you by the arm and dragged you right to the back of the bathroom, you struggled to remain on your feet but he didn’t really care. Much of your dizziness was thanks to your new found anxiety and had little to do with the vodka you’d been downing all night. This was definitely not an ideal situation. His grip on your arm tightened, and made you wince. You liked the sting, not so much the rest of the whole ordeal. “This where you’ve been fuckin’ going?” he seethed, coming close enough that your noses almost touched, he shook you lightly by the arm as he spoke. 

You tried to wiggle out of his grip, but he pulled you closer. “None of your fucking business.” Sure, you weren’t on your best behaviour, but did he really think he could boss you around? 

“Sure as hell’s my fucking business.” he took a look behind him, then turned back to you and leaned closer. “‘DEA agent’s step daughter dancing at illegal drug club’ sure gonna make a sweet headline.” His fingers dug into your flesh. Only then did it hit you why exactly he was in your dingy shack to begin with. You heard Timmy arguing with someone outside. You felt your palms become impossibly clammier. 

“Just fucking turn me in then, asshole.” you got closer, and you were sure he could smell the vodka off your breath. You wished that sounded as courageous and bold out loud as it did in your head. His eyes jumped to your lips, and he rolled them, huffing in frustration. You felt your own eyes burn, and your vision became blurry. You didn't want to cry in front of that bastard. You looked away. 

“To whom? Myself” his thumb smoothed over your skin, and his grip lightened. “Not gonna arrest you, fuckin’ idiot.” he rolled his eyes, then dropped your arm to put his hands on his hips. He looked down and sighed, massaging his temple and then glancing behind him again. 

“Riskin it all for that fuckin’ looser?” He let out a half hearted laugh, looking somehow both disappointed and smug. You wanted to punch him in the face. You would have, if he didnt happen to be the only thing between you and one dozen other narcs outside. 

He glanced at the ground for a second, then back at you and fixed the strap of your top that had slipped down your shoulder. “Get in the car.” he pointed behind you, and you looked in the direction to see a small, open window. 

“Know you're good at climbing outta windows.” you felt your cheeks heat so much they burned. Your heart hadn’t really recovered from his big, surprise entry yet. You couldn't stand to look at his frustrated, let down face. 

Javi cocked his head and raised his brows, whispering a strained “go”. You had no choice, you turned away from him and towards the window. 

—

“Where are we going?”

He didn't look away from the road ahead. Hand gripping the steering wheel with a renewed annoyance. “Better stop asking questions before s’ too late brat.” You opened your mouth to speak, but quickly shut it right back up again. You decided it was probably a lot smarter to just shut up and not bother him any longer– regardless of the thousand questions and worries you had swimming in your head. 

If you were lucky, he was going to drive the both of you right off a cliff, because if your mother caught any wind of what you had been doing, your plans for going to college, and living out of your house would fly right out the window. Not to mention the torture that would insue when she demanded to know your whereabouts all day everyday for the rest of the foreseeable future. 

“Don't want ya hangin’ round the countryside, in these barns, nothing good happens in there.” he looked over you momentarily, 

“Oh what? Are the cows joining in on the drug trade?” 

“Newspaper boys, going missin’. Found him in the lake, about two miles from here.” you pressed your lips together. 

The car ride thus passed in a painful, tense silence. Javier was clearly unhappy with the whole situation, but had decided not to immediately blow up in your face? Everything about that unsettled you. He was so shocked he seemed to be in denial. You'd much prefer if he just yelled at you and got it over with. 

What else was there to do? Surely he wasn’t going to turn you over to the cops, he had his chance to do that already. However Javier never missed a chance to reprimand you, maybe he wanted to get a few words in before ruining your future. 

You wouldn’t put it past him anyway. 

The empty streets gave way to a narrow, winding road that cut through the woods. The familiar landscape of your small town faded away, replaced by shadowy silhouettes of trees that loomed closer and closer to the edge of the road. The headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating the dense foliage– closing in around you. The road twisted and turned, each bend bringing you deeper into the night, and further away from any civilisation. 

Beginning to zone out, you kept your eyes ahead, now unable to recognise left from right, and importantly, exactly how far out from town you had come.  It wasn’t long before the “farwell, drive safe” sign that stood at the edge of the woods was swiftly moving past your right shoulder. A pit was quick to form in your stomach, the lowered window by Javi’s side let the cool breeze in. It wrapped around you and made you shiver. The smell of the woods soon overcame you. 

Eventually,the car came to a stop in a small clearing. You watched Javi, but he paid no attention to you. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional creak of branches swaying in the wind. In the distance, an owl hooted, its call echoed through the trees. You felt like a child about to be reprimanded after getting in trouble at school. You could hear the ticking of the cooling engine, each sound amplified in the stillness of the night. The dark woods pressed in on you. 

After what felt like an eternity, he opened his door, stepping out and gesturing for you to do the same with his head. Still absolutely clueless about what exactly he was doing, you decided just to follow along. He wasn’t going to actually kill you or anything. Probably just wanted to scare you. He had always thought he was a lot more scary than he actually was. At least that's what your brain was telling you. Your heart had other plans. 

You watched from inside as Javi began to cross in front of you, for a good three seconds he stood directly ahead of you, facing you in the beams of the headlights. The sight made you shiver. He took a step out of the light. Taking a long deep breath to psych yourself up, after a short moment you opened your door. Javi placed his arm on the top of said door, leaning against it to watch you get out. 

You almost tripped, but Javi caught you by the arm and manhandled you to the front of his truck. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the light, and when he turned you to face the hood it blinded you. 

The scrape of your shoes against the damp soil, the crunch of the leaves– it was pretty much all you could really register. The moon shone bright, shining through the trees, but your eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness. “These woods are fucking haunted.” A bug landed on the side of your face and you jumped, shaking your head and swatting it away. Javier laughed behind you and you rolled your eyes. “Ghosts the least of your worries right now, bunny .” 

“Fuckin gross.” He shook you by the arm, his voice now a tad bit more annoyed than it was a little earlier. “Oh really?” He pushed you against the hood of his car, your back now facing it. You couldn’t see his eyes, any part of his face at all, you could barely see anything. You wondered how he moved so confidently in the dark. He must have practice. 

“I ain’t sneakin’ out to be a slut every night.” His hands moved to grab your waist and your heart jumped. You swallowed, feeling more defiant yet sceptical by the second. “Sorry you’re not getting any, but it's not my fault, dirty old man.” Before you could even gauge his reaction your head was snapping to the side, a sharp burn spreading across your cheek as Javier’s hand made contact with your skin. 

“I'm not getting any?” he laughed, then took your face between his fingers and squeezed your cheeks together. You winced, and your vision got blurry. You felt your panties dampen embarrassingly. “I ain't the one lettin’ stupid boys rub up on me, bunny.” He shook your face gently, voice so seething and cruel you whimpered, somehow more desperate for him than you were before. 

“Desperate little slut.” He grabbed you by the shoulders and flipped you around, and promptly told you to “shut that whore mouth” when you screamed that he could fuck right off. His fingers left tender spots all over your arms and waist, and you winced when he manhandled you into bending over the hood of his car. 

He placed a hand on your back to press you down, the other held your waist in a death grip and you felt him press up against your ass. Your dress had ridden up, and surely left little to the imagination. The denim of his jeans rubbed against your upper thighs, and the tips of your shoes barely scraped the ground with how far up the hood of the car he had thrown you. You whimpered and he shushed you with a hand squeezing around your throat from behind. 

You knew you had to be unjustifiably wet by this point. You felt yourself throb when Javi put his hands under your dress and grabbed the waistband of your panties. He pressed his hips into yours and you felt his bulge through the fabric. 

The jingle of his belt sent a shiver down your spine, every hair on the back of your neck standing up at attention. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, still undecided about how exactly you felt about this entirely new development. 

Your heart jumped when he ran the leather across your skin, slowly, perhaps to catch you off guard when he finally struck you with it. You lurched forward, the pain so sharp a tear was quick to roll down your cheek. He struck you again, holding you down with his other hand. The sound of each slash, and your whines that followed echoed in the distance. 

“Think you’re fuckin cute, don’t you.” It was horribly embarrassing to be bent over the hood of his car, both palms on holding you up as best they could whilst he landed spank after spank on your bare ass. “Like bein a wild child?” Your scream echoed in the woods when his belt made sharp contact with your flesh. Your knees buckled but Javier's hand on your waist held you up before it was retreating to land another slap on your ass. Tears were dampening the neckline of your dress already, rolling down your neck and rendering you a bigger mess with every sharp spank of his belt. 

“Yeah? You get off on all those men touchin’ ya? Like being passed around like a cheap whore?” He gripped your hips so tight you didn’t even bother trying to wiggle out of his hold. “Should take ya to the office sometime, hand ya off to Steve, let him have some fun with you.”

You shook your head at that, there was only one man in the DEA offices you wanted, and unfortunately it wasn’t anybody that could actually be with. You clenched your thighs. 

“Knew you were a fuckin’ nasty little girl.” He wedged his hand between them, pushing them apart and slightly spreading your thighs. His fingers rubbed over your clothed cunt, your panties now damp from all that had ensued. You shivered, then pushed back against his digits. 

His fingers found your clit and you moaned. “Did ya cum?” he asked, referring to your little escapade at the bar. Suddenly, you were a whole lot less bold than you were a few moments ago, it wasn’t ideal to admit what you were going to, and it seemed almost impossible without sounding rather pathetic. 

He stopped moving his fingers and pinched the inside of your thigh. “Answer me.” You whispered a “no” bracing yourself for whatever embarrassing comment Javier was going to throw back at you in response. “Huh.. No one fucked this tight little snatch before? Savin’ yourself for me?” he ruminated on the thought, sounding far more pleased than you would have desired. He wasn’t exactly right, but he definitely wasn’t wrong either. 

When you remained quiet he leant beside your ear, lips ghosting the skin on your neck. “Hmm, that right? “Wish it was me instead of that stupid boy?” You groaned at his smug voice, then when his fingers slid under your panties and between your dripping folds. “Wished his finger’s were mine tonight, didnt you?” He cursed under his breath at how wet you were. “How many times d’you cum dreamin’ bout your stepdaddy fuckin your tight lil pussy…” 

“Haven’t” You pressed your face against the metal of his car, cheeks on fire at your admission. He remained silent behind you for a beat, then gently lifted you to press your back to his chest with a hand around your throat. He pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss against your neck, and the hand that was between your legs slid under your dress to plam your tit through your bra. “Ever?” 

You gasped as he pulled it down, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You shook your head and pressed back against his hard cock. The buckle of his belt dug into your skin and you could almost feel the sting against your ass once again. He pulled you impossibly closer to him, hand returning between your legs. 

He rubbed your clit in slow circles and then pushed two fingers into your entrance. “Full of surprises, aren't ya?” you gasped at the stretch, his fingers were surely far bigger than your own, or any others that had been anywhere near your pussy.  “don't blame ya’ bunny , nothing like the real thing, huh?” 

You bit your lip harder to keep from moaning, already far closer to finishing than you had ever been before, especially when he stroked your walls, mercifully scissoring you open in an uncharacteristic show of thoughtfulness. 

“So fuckin’ wet, bunny .” he curled his digits, reaching that sweet spot inside you as he thumbed your clit. You pushed back against him, feeling yourself continue to gush around his hand. “Gonna slide right in at this rate.” 

He yanked your panties down with so much force you heard a few stitches rip in the silence. Javier groaned, and you leaned back against him when his hand moved away from your pussy to slide his hard cock between your thighs, his hips flush against yours. He squeezed your tit in his palm as he pulled back a little, sliding against your swollen cunt again. 

You felt your arousal smear against your thighs. He muttered a strained “Can’t wait much longer, bunny” . You, yourself thought you might have gone crazy if he waited longer. He pulled his hips back again, notching the head at your entrance and pushing in in a single, slow thrust. 

You winced and then moaned, body unable to adjust to the sheer size of him so quickly, yet still hungry for more. You hadn’t felt quite so full ever before, you could feel his cock deep inside you. Your hand covered his on your chest and you mewled and whimpered when he moved his hips, replicating the sharp thrust again, and then again. 

It wasn’t long before he was pushing you back down against the hood of his car to get a better grip on your hips. He twisted your wrist as you reached out for him, holding both in one large palm as he found a steady rhythm. The almost unbearable stretch slowly melted away into a delicious, burning need, and in only a few moments you were pressing back against him, pleading for him to pick up his pace. 

“You rub your pretty little cunt thinking ‘bout my cock splitting you open?” You moaned a “yes” every part of your body now hot with need as he kept fucking into your warm, wet, heat. 

“How?” When you didn't answer he landed a spank to your ass, this time with his hand, and right over the spot his belt had left its sting on not so long ago. You yelped and surged forward. His hand on your hip pulled you back. You pulled yourself up, craving the heat of his chest against your back. 

“On my- oooh” your palm landed over his, fingers wrapping around one of his larger ones as you cut yourself off with a moan “On my pillow.” The memory made you throb harder, and the hand that was holding Javiers guided it away from your hip and closer to the cut of your thigh, craving the feel of his fingers on your clit. 

He squeezed the flesh of your thigh and chuckled, hot breath fanning against your now sweaty skin. “Thought as much. My little slut. Knew I heard ya..” he took your earlobe between his teeth for a moment, nipped and then licked a stripe up your neck “tryna make yourself cum. Couldn't figure it out yourself huh?” 

You shook your head. “horny little girl, need me to do everything for ya.” You had indeed, countless times rather ashamedly. The thought that he’d possibly heard you long enough for it to be a problem, had likely fucked your mother at the thought, wishing it was you under him in her stead was a thought that would live in your head for all eternity. 

He kissed your cheek, then pushed you back down. “S’why ya keep spreading your legs for the whole world huh?” He put a palm on the middle of your back, holding you down as he continued to thrust inside you. “Chasin’ cock all day long.”

“Can’t help this whore cunt huh? So desperate to cum.” holding yourself up on your forarms you raised your head, turning back to get a look at him fucking into your desperate pussy. 

“Knew it the moment I fuckin’ saw you. Dumb slut got nothing to her name besides this sweet pussy. No one taught ya any manners, how to be a good little girl.” His thumb brushed over the cut of your jaw, fingers squeezing your cheeks. His index and middle fingers swiped your lips, and they instinctively parted to let him push them in. You sucked and drooled around his digits, doing little to contain your moans as he continued to fuck you from behind. The taste of your arousal sat heady on your tongue. “Always knew ya wanted it, stupid little slut.”

“Runnin that whore mouth all day like you're payin’ for the house.” his hips snapped towards yours, his cock buried deep inside you. “But it aint your house, bunny .” With the way your tits were pressing against the smooth metallic finish of his stupid pickup truck you were sure they were going to leave a mark. 

You released his fingers with a pop, and he grabbed you by the hips and flipped you around, hurriedly tossing you onto the hood of his car till your feet were also planted firmly above the bumper. Before you could even register the movement he was slipping back inside you, you felt yourself pulse around his cock. You hoped and prayed no one was remotely near, your wailes and whines loud enough to travel far into the distance. 

“Get that in your fuckin’ head” He tapped his index gently against your temple and you nodded, frantically pleading yes after yes. You felt him throb inside you, each drag of his cock building the tension in your belly. You felt your pussy squeeze around him, and you wiggled your hips closer to chase the feeling. 

Your head turned side to side, your whole body buzzing at the heat between your legs. You don't think you’d ever felt anything like it. Sure, it felt good to touch yourself, but this, the feeling of his cock inside you, against your wet walls, it was entirely different. 

The tension only built in your hips, your skin erupting in goosebumps as you hurtled closer and closer to the edge. Your palms squeezed your breasts, seeking purchase on any part of your body. 

You lay your back down completely, watching the light hit him right in the face, falling against his features to create sharp lines of contrast. You’d take a good long look at him on top of you to save for later, but he was quickly pressing his lips to yours and your eyes fluttered shut. 

The weight of his body on top of yours was enough to make you cum on your own, but the feeling of his lips was what really did it. For how rough and quick he was splitting you open, his mouth moved gently against yours, his warm tongue parting your lips and gliding into your mouth. You moaned against him and he bit your lip, sensing how close you were. 

“Wanna see that face when you cum for me.”  his palm tilted your face upwards, and while the rest of his fingers continued to squeeze around your neck his thumb slipped between your parted lips. Instinctively, you closed your mouth around him, drooling and moaning around his thumb when he hit the sweet spot inside you over and over. Your pussy clenched around his cock and you tried to whimper his name. You felt another word bubble in your throat but you closed your lips around his digit to push it away. Your eyes fluttered shut at the intensity. 

“Cum for me, lil bunny” his words made you tumble over the edge, your cunt squeezing and gushing around his cock, your back arching off the hood of his car. His fingers squeezed around your neck, holding your face in place so he could get a good look at your eyes rolling back into your head. 

It was like a blackout, your ears rang so loud and your lips loosened around his thumb, going slack as you rode out your high. You felt him throb inside you at the sight. You felt the ache deep inside you, all the pleasure bursting in a single climactic second. Your lips fell slack around his fingers, whole body twitching at the sensation. 

Your climax set him off, and it wasn't long before he was burying himself inside your hot heat. His cock pulsed against your wet walls, painting your insides with his spend. He groaned and squeezed around your neck just a little harder. You sucked his thumb gently and heard him curse under his breath. You tried to keep your fluttering eyes on his face, watching intently as the aftershocks subsided and Javier's brows knit closer with his final few thrusts. 

After a few moments he stilled inside you, taking a moment to catch his breath. He pulled his thumb from your warm mouth to brush your bottom lip, then let his own lips take their place. You felt him pull out and you winced at the burn. He put both your legs up on his shoulders and leaned between your legs. 

You watched as his head disappeared between your legs to place a kiss to your inner thigh, and pull your panties back up your hips. You reached for him and he pulled you up to his chest. “Gotta clean up a lil bit, bunny..” he fixed your dress and lifted you off the hood and into his arms. “Ain’t nothing to worry about.” You already knew your painties were ruined for good with a red stain by that point. 

You rested your forearms on his shoulders, quite liking being held in his arms. “Knew you were always to much of a fucking perv to be a good cop.” He smacked your ass again for good measure and placed you on the ground. “You aint’ too much of a slut to fuck your stepdaddy aint it?” 

He stepped aside and you watched him do up his belt again, walking towards the driver's side of the car. You looked behind you and towards the expanse of the woods. The trees rustled, and you heard, presumably, the same owl hoot from the distance. A small crackle in the foliage had you swiftly walking to the passenger side and yanking open the door. You hopped inside and slammed it behind you. 

Javier was reaching in the glove box to stash away his gun. “Please” You swallowed, looking towards him. “Please just don’t tell her. She's going to have a freak out.”

Javi glanced at you momentarily, then murmured a dismissive “yeah yeah” as he started up the engine. That wasn't good enough for you. “Please, she’ll give me hell, I can’t deal with it.” You shook your head, then shifted in your seat. He muttered another “yeah”, checking his pockets for the keys to your front door. God forbid they slipped out while he was fucking your brains out. 

You turned towards him in your seat, both hands on the centre console. “Please.” Javier grabbed the keys, hooked them to his belt loop and dropped his head in a sigh. He turned towards you, taking a moment to reach over and buckle you into your seat. 

“‘Ain’t gonna tell, so stop askin’ before I change my mind.” He knew he didn’t need to ask you to keep your mouth shut– perhaps the most humiliating part of this all. 

“Okay.. yeah..”  The headlights flashed as you began your journey back home, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. You sank back, twisting in Javi’s direction, now curled up in the seat. His eyes remained on the road ahead. “Don’t do this shit again.” 

“Just wanted some adventure.” your voice grew thick, and you yawned. “Next time ya want adventure watch a fuckin’ hitchcock film or something.” He reached out a hand to cup your cheek, engulfed it and patted it gently. 

”Ain't always gonna be there to save your ass, bunny.” 

— 

PART II

In between

What I find is pleasing and I'm feeling fine

Love is so confusing there's no peace of mind

If I fear I'm losing you. it's just no good

You teasing like you do

Eeek! Hope you enjoyed!! I’m very excited for this series, and I hope you are too! Please let me know what you think! Thank you to everyone who interacts with my work! Your comments and reblogs keep me writing 💗🐝

[guess-my-next-obsession]

endure & survive | i. endure & survive

pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x single mother!reader

chapter content: MINORS DNI, written in dual POV/first person POV, no description/name given to reader, reader is a single mother, age gap (twenty-ish years), grief, gun talk/threats

word count: 2.1k

series masterlist | next chapter

READER

Everything was brutal in the wild open land that used to be this country before the world as we knew it crumbled before us. 

I’d spent fifteen years in the Denver QZ before I’d had enough. Food was scarce and often tainted with mold, animal droppings, or just plain inedible. Hunting and growing food wasn’t an option either, not in the crowded, dilapidated, concrete confinements of the QZ. The powers above tended to hoard all of the fresh shit to themselves anyways and hand out the scraps as if it was a blessing rather than a betrayal of the system they were put in place to uphold. But when you’re starving, even scraps and trash become appetizing. Sickening, most often, but appetizing nonetheless. Luxuries like new clothes, fresh sheets, a decent pair of shoes, and a place to take a warm shower were non-existent. All we had was all we had. You either made do, or you took from someone else. Someone dead, or someone you planned on killing. People like me--people who couldn’t stomach the violence against my neighbors as easily as some of us--chose to just make do.

It was a miracle that I made it out of the QZ alive. 

It was even more miraculous that I’d been able to survive out here in the open for as long as I had. 

Eight years, to be exact. But I hadn’t been alone for all of it. 

I used to have a partner, someone willing to brave the unknown and dangerous at my side, until a nasty bout of pneumonia we couldn’t treat took him from me. Kit and I were as close to married as two people could be in this post-apocalyptic world, and we’d made it longer than most people did outside the supposedly safe walls of the QZ. Together, we rebuilt the dilapidated cabin nestled somewhere in Wyoming that I still call home and built a secure perimeter, shielded by thick evergreens and overgrowth. He was with me for a little under two years out here, but even though he’s gone now, a piece of him remains with me. 

Our son. 

As I lay on the threadbare mattress tucked in the corner of the open cabin and count each of Colt’s breaths, I feel a familiar pang of longing and grief. Longing for his father. Grief that he’ll never get to meet him. 

He’s six now. Just entered that stage of troublemaker and explorer and everything that would stress out any parent in a normal world. But in this world—a world where one slip up could mean the end, or worse—it’s more than stress I feel. I’m terrified. 

It’s been months since anyone has gotten close to our safe haven, and even longer since I’ve come across an infected, but the threat is always there. When Colt was younger, it was easier to manage the thought of having to pull that trigger when someone—or something—got too close. But now I worry about what it’ll do to him to have to watch me kill in order to protect us. I worry it’ll change him, mark him for a dark and violent future he should have never had to chance. 

But I’ll do what I have to do in order to keep him alive. 

I’ll trek across the entire country, chart a boat and sail to new worlds, kill and fight and give my life if it means he has the chance to live his. 

For now, though, he’s safe and sound asleep in my arms, soothed by the rise and fall of my chest as I prepare for another sleepless night. 

JOEL

The mileage is wearing on me. I know it. The pain in the ass teenager besides me sure as hell knows it, if her snarky comments about needing to find me a cane or a walker are anything to go by. 

My boots have seen better days, but it’s been that way for years now. Usually, I’d have found some way to snag a newer, less worn pair off a dead man or tucked away inside some crumbling building, but I haven’t been able to take as many chances with Ellie with me. 

We’ve already had enough encounters with danger between Boston and wherever the fuck we are now. Clickers, tyrants, and more death than either of us would like. Kansas City alone was almost enough to take both of us out. I have no desire to test our luck all for the sake of warmer feet. Besides, Ellie’s shoes are alright. No holes, no soles coming apart. If she’s good, I’ll find a way to manage. 

But there’s no denying the limp in my walk, no matter how hard I try to hide it. It’s cold as hell out here in the woods, and at my age, with my past injuries, it’s taking a toll on me. My joints scream with every step, my back aches like it’s on fire, and that’s only the physical. 

My mind is feeling the wear and tear of this journey more than I’d like to admit. I’m panicky and exhausted and paranoid as all hell, and I can’t be any of that if I want to keep us safe. 

The kid’s gotten pretty good with a gun, but given our limited ammo supply, she hasn’t gotten as much practice as either of us would like. But at least I know if it comes down to it, she’ll know what to do. I cling to the hope that she’ll never have to put that knowledge into practice, but I know better than that. She’s already had to bail my ass out more times than I’d like. 

“I can see steam coming out of your ears with all that thinking, old man,” she says as she sits across from me at the campsite we’ve claimed for the night. There’s a fire crackling between us, big enough to ward off some of this icy chill but small enough not to bring too much attention. “Whatcha thinking about?”

I heave a sigh that has little to do with her and everything to do with the fact that I’m thinking about too fuckin’ much these days. 

Safety. 

Food. 

Warmth. 

Sarah. 

“Thinkin’ how much longer I’m gonna have to put up with this twenty questions shit you like to play,” I say instead of the truth. It’s easier if she doesn’t know what’s going on in my head. She’s just a kid, whether she sees it that way or not. She doesn’t need to add my shit onto her plate. 

“Well, we’re like…what? Only a few hundred miles away from Salt Lake now?” she asks, tracing her finger over the map on her lap. “All goes well, me and my charming commentary will be out of your hair in a few weeks.” 

Doubtful, but I don’t voice that thought. I still don’t have much faith in anything related to those goddamn Fireflies, but a plan is a plan. Tess made me swear to see this thing through with Ellie, and as much as I hate the fuckers, they’re still the only people that might be able to point me in the direction of Tommy. 

“What kind of music did you listen to back in the day?” Ellie asks as she folds her map back up and into her backpack, seemingly content to move onto another subject. “Wait—no, let me guess. Something old and boring like the Beatles.”

I scoff out of amusement. “First off, the Beatles aren’t boring. But no. More of a country music guy, myself. Merle Haggard, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, Marty Robbins. That kinda thing.”

She shrugs. “Never heard of ‘em.”

“They were before your time,” I say, shifting my legs so that they lay outstretched along the thin blanket I’ve got beneath me to keep the snow from dampening my clothes. “Before my time, truth be told.”

“So you just like old shit, then,” she says, and I shoot her an unamused look. 

“Y’know, it’s been about twenty years since we’ve had any new shit come out, so anything you like listenin’ to is pretty damn old, too,” I reply before tacking on, “Smartass.”

“How old’s Nirvana?”

“90’s.”

“Pearl Jam?”

“90’s.”

“Shit. What about Metallica?”

“Jesus, that’s what you like listenin’ to?” I ask, shaking my head. “No wonder you act like that.”

“Like what? Totally fucking cool and wise beyond my years?”

“Was gonna say feral, but yeah, sure,” I say, fighting a chuckle. 

Despite the exhaustion, despite the fact that I’d long since forgotten how to laugh, this kid almost brings it out of me. She’s the total opposite of Sarah, and yet I can’t help but think the two of them would get along like peas in a pod. After all, their favorite pastime is the same—busting my balls. 

“Y’should get some sleep,” I say, ending her game of twenty questions before she talks me to sleep. “Sun’s gonna be up in a few hours, and we need to get a move on. Storm’s comin’ in soon, and last thing we need is to get stuck out here in it.”

“A little breaking and entering in the books tomorrow, then?” 

“If we can manage it,” I reply with a sigh, watching her as she rolls onto her side and stuffs her backpack beneath her head like sleeping out here in the wet snow is completely normal and not fuckin’ miserable. “Y’need an extra blanket over there?”

“No, mother,” she sighs. “Youth keeps me warm. Too bad those days are long behind you now.”

I roll my eyes and look up at the dark sky, counting stars to keep myself from chuckling. “Shut up and go to sleep, then.”

READER

A crunch outside wakes me from my sleep. I’m a light sleeper at best these days, a raging insomniac at worst, but that’s what’s kept us alive this long. My ears have trained themselves to detect even the slightest of unusual noises around the cabin. Even in my sleep, I’m able to distinguish the sound of an animal crossing our land from an intruder—or worse. 

Thankfully, this doesn’t sound like an infected or a clicker. I don’t have the mental or physical energy right now to deal with a rabid creature, for lack of a better word. 

I shift my weight carefully so as to not disturb Colt as he sleeps beside me, and climb out of our bed. My boots and clothes are still on, as are his—you never know when it’s going to be time to run, and the few minutes it takes to get ready might mean the difference between staying alive and becoming a monster. Grabbing the shotgun I keep beside the bed, I carefully step across the wooden floorboards of the cabin, avoiding the loose ones I know creak under even the slightest bit of weight. I don’t need Colt waking up and asking questions. Not when I don’t know who’s waiting outside. 

All of the windows are boarded up, save for a few peepholes I intentionally left for moments exactly like these. I’d be an idiot to swing my door open without getting a peek at what waits for me on the other side, shotgun or not. Sticking my eye up to the sliver in the old wooden boards, I scan the front of the property, taking in the thick blanket of snow covering the ground and looking for footprints marring its surface. When I find none in the front of the property, I move to the window on the side of the cabin, searching there, too. 

And that’s when I see our intruder. 

A man--older than me by a decade or two--carefully scans the clearing around the cabin, no doubt searching for traps. He’s lucky he’s managed to get this far without running into any. That, or he’s simply done this enough to know exactly what to look out for. 

When he nears the side of the cabin, only a few feet from the window I’m pressed up against, I force my breath to steady and carefully move back to the front door with my shotgun cocked and in hand. I don’t give him time to find his way up the steps of the front porch--that would be too close to Colt for comfort. Instead, I slowly, silently, open the door and step out into the icy cold. Tiptoeing across the snow-damp wood, I round the corner and lift my shotgun just like Kit had taught me all those years ago, aiming directly for my intruder’s head before issuing a single, clear warning. 

“You’ve got five seconds to turn around and forget you ever saw this place before I shoot your fucking head off.”

[hanasnx]

WITHHOLDING SEX — logan howlett.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: unfinished wip that im never gonna finish. WARNINGS: unfinished wip ノ fem reader ノ stripper reader ノ age gap ノ established relationship ノ size difference ノ logan gets smacked for saying some dumb shit ノ degradation ノ outdated and lame anti-sex work rhetoric ノ toxic behavior

“You’re such a jerk, Logan.” you used to say, a little giggle to your voice as you scoldingly pat LOGAN HOWLETT’s broad chest, letting him back you into a dark corner at your club and buy a personal dance. He’d wave that fat wad of cash in front of your nose with that knowing look you’d come to crave, and you’d flirtingly comply. You’d even let him get cheeky with it, copping a feel up your thigh while in the privacy of a backroom. Just so you’d bat his callused hand away with a toying, “Ah-ah!” And he’d tilt his big head at you and push out his hips while you finished up your dance.

Months of playing with one another, led to his impatience getting the better of him. Late at night, asking you—a stripper—what you were doing later. He’s got this way about him that you watch so carefully. All he had to do was stare at you through those furrowed brows and jut his chin when he popped the question, and you obediently blurted out, “Maybe if you’re lucky: you.”

Much to your surprise, it wasn’t some one night stand. Booty calls turned to dates, turned to moving in together, turned to partnership. Not that you believe yourself to be a challenge, but you’ve never met a guy that could seduce you at your job, and you certainly never expected to shack up with him. Logan made it easy at first, always forward with you, putting up with your “diva attitude” as he likes to call it, driving you to and from work because he doesn’t trust the clients that hang out around the building when girls are just trying to get home. You fell hard, and you fell fast.

But lately, things have been different. Logan’s always been bull-headed—and a bit of a pig—but it never seemed to be as big of a problem as it is now. As much as you can love those traits of his, they get in the way of communication, and your own spite and stubbornness doesn’t soothe anything. You fight more than ever, you argue more than you have actual conversations. If you’re not fighting, you’re not talking, and he’s sleeping on the couch. Butting heads is not new, but now they’re not as easily solved without the shade of rose-colored glasses.

“Nah, baby, ‘cause a stripper like you was easy.” The prideful and malicious words struck you right to your core, whirling around to face Logan who’d been hounding after you. It’s written all over his firm countenance, he said it to hurt you, and he knew it succeeded—from the very first petname spat so facetiously. Your hand flies before you realize what’s happening, whipping across his cheek so hard it resounds throughout the room. It was a stupid move, ache pulsing hot through your palm from the contact, and chances are it’s worse for you than him.

Your voice burns from this latest yelling match, and you exacerbate it. “You’re such a jerk, Logan!” The dumbfounded part in his lips close as he pivots his spun head to meet your gaze. You’re not gonna sit here and entertain this any longer, you’re gonna be late for work, so you round his wide frame to hurry to the door. “Let’s see how easy you think I am.” you challenge, throwing open the door, “Good luck getting off without me.” you spit at him before slamming the door after you.

“That’s it, I’m so done with him—for real this time.” you claim, yapping the ear off your coworker at the lockers while you two get dressed.

“Oh, yeah, right.” she replies with a roll of her eyes, zipping up her boot. “Next week y’all are gonna be back together, attached at the fuckin’ hip. Who’re you kidding?” She stamps her foot down, and gives herself last looks in the vanity mirror, teasing her hair with her hands.

You throw down your needle and floss, halting your sew of a hole in your costume. “Shut up, it’s not like that!” you whine, annoyed by her prediction—more or less accurate.

She snickers. “See you out there.” she tells you, effectively dismissing the conversation as she makes her way out onto the floor. Somehow, her reaction only fans the flames of your spiteful commitment…. but even though the hurt is still fresh, you miss him.

It’s frigid in the AM, hugging your jacket close as you watch your breath steam in front of your face. The bouncer didn’t think to watch your walk to the car this time, knowing that your boyfriend usually picks you up. You forgot to tell him otherwise, but it’s not a big deal—until you remember you took your car this time and the heater is broken. You’ve taken three steps out the door and you’re already shivering, what are you gonna do when your brittle fingers can’t grip the wheel?

“Hey.” a rough and familiar voice breaks you out of your internal debacle, facing the noise promptly. Logan wearing his usual scowl and puffy vest—somehow he looks good. The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up to reveal the cords of his forearms crossed across his chest, tailbone leaned against his truck. “C’mon.” He tilts his head in the direction of his vehicle. In one small second, you’re endeared by his gesture, he knew you were gonna be cold and a little unsafe—even through being angry he’d do this for you. In the next second, the warm feeling is quickly crushed under the weight of knowing Logan. This isn’t some knight-in-shining-armor moment. This is his apology.

You stick your frozen nose in the air, “No, thanks.” you respond. There’s no way you’re going to let him off the hook that easily. Back on your path to your car, you huddle into yourself to converse heat, but you still hear footsteps on gravel behind you.

“Don’t be like that, princess, I know you’re freezing.” he says. He only calls you that when you’re being especially prissy. “I know you didn’t mean what you said back there, so let’s just go home and I’ll hook and tow your car in the morning.” The impending presence of a palm against your upper arm alerts you and you flinch out of the way.

“I’m not getting into the truck with you, Logan, I’m mad at you.” you hiss. Your persistence is annoying, and if you were less wrathful Logan might’ve thrown you over his shoulder by this point. Something tells him this isn’t like other times.

His hand lingers in the air aside your sleeve, but draws back when he straightens to his full height behind you. “So you’d rather catch fuckin’ pneumonia than be within three feet of me?” his disbelief is deduced clearly in his tone, conveying how stupid he thinks you’re being.

So you double down, shrugging indifferently as you cross your arms over your chest. “If that’s what it comes down to.”

“Jesus, you’re a stubborn bitch.”

You round on him. “Logan!”

He inclines in your space, raising his voice as he gestures in front of him, organizing his verbal thoughts, “First, you tell me some bullshit about no pussy, and now you don’t even wanna be near me—“

You’re incredulous, matching his energy as you lift onto the tips of your toes to compete with him. “—Why would I wanna go anywhere with you when you’re being the biggest asshole—“

“—and it’s not like you can keep up with that shit. You’ll last a day- and that’s generous—!”

“—A day? You think I’ll last a day—?” You have the urge to laugh, a dry hollow sound.

“Face it, you can’t go a night without me.”

Obviously, you’re not getting anywhere and you’re tired. Defeated, you shake your head and turn on your heel. You’re beyond cold, and you say loud enough for him to hear, “Get outta here, Logan, I don’t wanna see you when I get home.”

He shift his weight to one hip, raising his arms out at his sides in a questioning pose. “Oh, and where am I supposed to go? Huh? Where am I supposed to go?” he interrogates after your retreating form, angry at your reaction, at the fact you’re walking away from him, the idea he’s not going to be in a warm bed with a warm body to comfort him to sleep tonight.

It’s his own fault. “I don’t care where you go! I’m not letting you in.” you reply with a shake of your head.

[anasanthology]

Always Close Your Tabs.

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ MDNI (I don’t care who reads just if your account age is set to under 18 don’t interact please), step-cest, pseudo-incest, stepbrother/stepsister pairing, degradation kink, light face slapping, very light praise kink, Dom/Sub, lowkey Hard Dom!Leon Kennedy, face fucking, oral (m receiving), mean Leon (I feel he’s a little ooc), like one mention of breeding kink, we got a little sweet aftercare at the end, not as tame as other stuff I’ve written, fem-specific gendered terms. Not proofread.

Notes: FIRST LEON FIC I’M POSTING 😚 actually feeling kinda good about this one! I felt like finishing this and posting it today so here so go!!! I hope you like it ☺️ as always, likes and—especially—comments are very VERY much appreciated 😌 if you have any tags you think I should add just tell me cause I’m not sure if I missed any 🧐 ANYWAYS, enjoy, lovelies 💕

4.5k words | Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader

The couch was irritating you, you were hyper aware of it, the texture, the firmness, everything about it. It didn’t matter where you sat though, everywhere was irritating. Everything was irritating. Your parents were out of town on some dumb anniversary. No. Your parent and her husband. Leaving you home alone with your stepbrother.

 Leon. 

He was annoying. He was rude, crass, and bitchy. When your mom had told you she was seeing a guy you were happy for her, until she told you that he had a son a few months older than you. Other kids was the one dealbreaker for you, but your mom loved this man so much and you didn’t exactly have much time left to live with her. You could deal with it. So you met Leon, he didn’t talk the entire dinner but to introduce himself and then order something. This was 8 months ago.

Now you live with him.

You were sure that there were worse people to live with, like… Bundy or Dahmer maybe. He always had those loudmouth friends of his over. Chris, who would spend the whole time yelling at the tv and Luis, who would just flirt with you the whole time. The worst of it was that they would only hang out in the living room so you were always confined to your room till they left. That was unless you wanted to hear, ‘ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! THAT DIDN’T EVEN TOUCH ME,’ and, ‘Hola, señorita, ¿Qué pasa? You look gorgeous,’ which… you didn’t wanna hear that. Not to even mention how insufferable he was when they weren’t around. Which was the situation now. Sitting on the couch next to you was Leon Kennedy, staring up at the tv watching Desperate Housewives. He had this constant resting dick face that never seemed to go away, and along with that he also seemed to be followed by resting dick air everywhere he went. Especially now that his dad took away his phone and other electronics before your guys’ parents left for their trip. Because apparently that man cared jack shit for your sanity. Now, Leon was irritated. He was insufferable when he was irritated. It just radiated off of him and you were a porous permeable surface. You guys sat like that until…

“Can I use your laptop?”

“What?” You turned to him, his words bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Can I use your laptop?” He repeated himself.

“Uh… sure, I guess?” Shrugging you got off the couch before stopping in your tracks and pointing at him, “but I get to use your car!” Your eyes widen with excitement and you point at him.

“No, no way. You are not driving my car. Not gonna happen.” He huffed in amusement and shook his head.

“And why not?” Your hands went to your hips and you made a face.

“Because,” he mocks your tone, “you’ll crash it.”

“Says you! Leon, you are like the king of bad driving. You hit a tree last month! A tree! They don’t even move and they’ve been there for like years!” Your hands were flying everywhere at this point. You had your license, but since Leon was a little older and got his a little before you he got a car. And since he got a car—and only Jeff Bezos could comfortably pay for his car insurance—you didn’t get one, you had to share with your mom and stepdad. But since they were halfway across the country, you were stuck here.

“It was in my blind spot!”

“What about that mailbox last week? Or Ms. Anderson’s side mirror? Everything can’t be in your blind spot, Leon. That’s what windows are for.” you close your eyes and sigh, “you know what, I don’t care. Bottom line is, if you don’t let me drive your car, no laptop.” You knew you were reaching, but you didn’t care. It’s not like you lost anything if he said no. It wasn’t fair he got the car anyways, your mom promised you a year ago on your birthday that when you got your license she’d take you to a used car dealership and you could pick one. But apparently ‘situations change’ and ‘things don’t always go as planned’, so you were left having to explain to your friends that it actually wasn’t gonna happen. Leon could practically burn holes through your face with the way he was looking at you, honestly that’s probably what he was thinking about. He sighs and closes his eyes.

“Fine.” He opens his eyes and gives you just about the brattiest look imaginable. You just smile and giggle. Your eyes widened in surprise. You were not expecting him to actually say yes.

“Okay!” You practically sprint upstairs to your room, grabbing your laptop off the bed. You make your way back downstairs and bring it to him. “Here ya go!”

“Thanks.” He takes it with a scowl and gets up.

“Whaddya need it for anyways?”

“Because I wanna watch stuff.” He responds flatly.

“What kinds of stuff?” ‘Porn?’ Was your first thought, but you opted not to verbalize that. 

“Stuff you can’t watch on the tv?”

“Yes.”

“Why not?” You blinked at him.

“Because you’re watching the tv in here, dingus.” He didn’t look guilty. You know, like you would if you were gonna use your stepsister’s laptop to watch porn off of. He just looks annoyed. “Can I go watch some shit now or you gonna keep interrogating me, detective?”

“Jeez, moody. Sure, go.” You shoo him and turn back to the tv as you sit on the couch. He walks away to his room and you lay back covering your face with your arm. It felt like a weight had been lifted, the tension gone immediately. Part of you wanted to say it was just because he made the air so thick with irritation he could suffocate a room, but you knew that wasn’t completely true…

Leon was hot, like crazy hot.

It was frustrating being around that all day and night. Eating dinner across from an actual model… not easy. It was especially not easy when that model was a sarcastic asshole, and it was especially especially not easy when you kinda liked it. Yes every comment pissed you off, made you want to scream sometimes, punch a hole in the wall. but it also had you wondering… ‘would he… I mean in bed did he…’ god you hoped so. ‘Ew, no you didn’t.’ It was dumb—and entirely inappropriate—but that’s all you could think about when he was around. At some point all the irritation and hatred you had for him just living here, turned into… something you shouldn’t think about.

But who cares.

You didn’t have time to think about that. You had much more pressing matters to attend to, like… desperate housewives. You sit up and lay your body on top of your legs like you were folding yourself in half. You looked up at the screen and flipped onto your back kicking your legs over the back of the couch. It was like you just couldn’t get comfortable no matter what. 

“Mmmmmuuhhhhhh.” Sighing you sat back up like normal, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and onto your tired form. And then it hit you.

The computer.

‘Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.’ Standing up abruptly you started making your way to Leon’s room, practically running up the stairs.

You were tired last night. Really, really tired.

So maybe, just maybe, you forgot to close out of a tab last night. Or maybe a couple. Besides it is your computer, why do you need to close out of anything? You don’t, or at least you don’t when your step brother isn’t using your computer.

“Leon, I need my computer.” You knocked at his door and turned the knob quickly. Locked, of fucking course. “Leon?” Bouncing around a little on the balls of your feet, impatiently you step back from the door and shake the tension out of your hands. ‘Maybe he didn’t see it. Maybe he… didn’t even get on the computer yet. “Leon, I don’t… I don’t need your car. It’s fine, I asked Claire and she said she’d drive me this week.” His door opens like that’s exactly what he was waiting to hear.

“Okay, fine. Take it.” He steps away from the door and you walk inside, looking back at him you take extra attention to his expression. He definitely knows. You just turn back unable to think about that for too much longer, your face burning with heat as you pick up your laptop off of his bed. You feel a pair of hands snake around your waist and you tense up. “But first, I have to know why my slutty little sister thought it was a good idea to give me her laptop with porn open.” It was like your brain took a screenshot. ‘Did he just…’

“I don’t… Leon, I’m sorry. I didn’t-I forgot.”

“Oh you’re such a liar.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “No, I think you did it on purpose. You’re such a smart girl, I don’t believe you could be so stupid.” Your breath got heavier at his accusation.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I fell asleep ‘nd forgot it was on there.” He didn’t respond but his hands started running up and down your sides. “Leon, stop teasing me.” Your voice came out just a whiny whisper, sounding a lot more needy rather than urgent like you meant it.

“You know, I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be into that sort of stuff. Always get so nervous when Luis flirts with you, always get so flustered when people touch each other in a movie.” He was ignoring your request completely. “But it makes sense now, you get all shy cause you like it.” Your eyes widen and you squirm in his arms, not exactly trying to get away. Not really trying to get away at all actually. “Wonder how many times I’ve been sitting with you on the couch while your cunt gets all wet. So shameless, darling.” Your body is frozen in embarrassment, it’s kinda hot. ‘God. Don’t think like that Jesus.’

“No, never,” Liar. “Leon, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Yet you aren’t trying to stop me, are you?” His voice is so completely self assured and cocky. Asshole. It made you so wet. You aren’t trying to stop him. You don’t want him to stop, even though you should. He pulls his hands back a little for you, so that if you want to get out you can. Without as much internal protest as you’d hoped, you stay completely still. “See, I was right. You are just a little slut who wants to get touched by her stepbrother.” You visibly cringe at that but feel slick spill into your panties at his words.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” His hands go back around you, pulling you close to him. You could feel the outline of his hardened cock against you.

“Stop… being weird.” You shifted around in his arms.

“How am I being weird?” He snickered.

“Because you’re… stop saying it like that?” Your face was burning at this point. He was pushing up against you, pressing your hips against the edge of his bed.

“Saying it like what? Isn’t that exactly what’s going on? A dumb whore getting wet for her brother?”

“Leon.” His hand dipped down the front of your pants, running his finger down your clothed slit.

“Oh but why? It feels like you like it when I talk to you like that. I mean… given the videos you were watching, I bet you like it.” You pushed up against him. You just want him closer, it doesn’t matter if it’s wrong. He knew what he was doing, making you feel small, degrading you. “You do like it, fuck.” He started grinding himself against your back. You did like it, you wanted him to keep going, keep making you feel small.

“No it… Leon, it’s weird.”

“I know it is, but you like it. You like how depraved it makes you feel. You can’t deny it, I quite literally have seen the stuff you watch to get off.” He was laughing a little, it only amplified how hot and humiliating this was. “Can’t say I haven’t thought about it. Everytime you’d roll your eyes when I’d tease you all I could think about was taking it further, pinning you against the counter or the couch and just telling you anything I could think of.”

“Thought you said you didn’t think I’d be into this?”

“You can be into anything I want you to in my fantasies.” His other hand snakes up to start running his thumb up and down the column of your throat. This really should not have such an effect on you, but it does. Your eyes flutter and you let out a soft needy breath as you lay your head back against him. “Oh you like that? You like that I just imagine you in any position I want?” You nod your head reluctantly. Your lips open and close but no sound comes out. He’s barely even touched you but it feels like your tongue is twisted up in your mouth. You can feel your resolve just slipping away the more he speaks to you, the more he touches you.

“Leon, this is… this is so wrong…” your voice comes out so quiet you aren’t sure he could hear you. Or maybe it’s just because the blood pounding in your ears is so loud that you can barely hear yourself.

“But you like that don’t you? Yeah, I know you do.” His finger travels further up to slide across your bottom lip. Involuntarily—you tell yourself—your lips part slightly. He just laughs softly behind you, the smirk that was undoubtedly plastered on his face was audible. “Does this slutty girl want something in her mouth? There you go…” he slides his finger past your lips and onto your tongue. His thumb starts pushing slow thrusts against your tongue. Your hands go to hold onto his forearm feebly, not trying to move or stop him but just needing something to hold onto. “Yeah? You like it when I finger your pretty little mouth?” You just whine and start sucking around his thumb. “Fuck, bet you’d do so good on my cock.” You turned around to face him.

It was stupid, and you don’t know why you did it… yes you do, liar.

“What?” He grinned down at you. Now being able to see your lips around his thumb he couldn’t get enough of it. You knew you were turned on but holy shit you weren’t expecting him to look like… that. His mouth was slightly parted and his eyes were lidded. A light blush dusts his cheeks. God he looked good. You imagined you probably looked something similar, probably worse. “I asked you a question.” He pulls his thumb from your mouth and slides it down your chin and across your neck. ‘Oh, right.’

“I um… can I?” You swallowed heavily, barely able to focus on your words with his fingers rubbing at your soft skin.

“‘Can you’ what?” He just laughs, he can tell you’re struggling. Your face heats up with embarrassment realizing just how fuck-drunk you already are. And then he just gets the cockiest look on his face. “Oh, you wanna suck my cock? That what this is?” You just nod weakly, you couldn’t deny it if you tried. “Hmm? I can’t hear you, what do you want?”

“I wanna…” you swallow thickly, “I wanna suck your cock, please.” You chewed on the inside of your lip and just looked at him. He felt like he could just about cum from how needy your voice sounded when you said ‘please’.

“Fuck,” his hand slide up your neck and went to the back of your head. “I know you do. Now get on your knees.” His hand tangled in your hair right up against your scalp and he tightened his grip a little, pulling your head back ever so slightly in the process. The way he was talking to you, how he was treating you, all like you were just some object for his pleasure… fuck, it made you wet. If this situation could possibly get any worse from you guys just doing anything at all in the first place, getting turned on from your stepbrother degrading and objectifying you would definitely make it worse. You moaned softly when he pulled your hair as you started to kneel down in front of him slowly, struggling to resist the urge of responding ‘yes, sir.’ When your knees were on the ground and you finally stopped shifting around to get as comfortable as possible you finally realized the position you were in.

You were on your knees in front of your stepbrother about to suck him off…

But at this point, all thought or consideration of morality and shame had long been lost on you. Instead the lewdness of the situation only fueled the fire and part of you was just getting off on how wrong this was. You felt filthy and all it did was make you want to continue. ‘Shit, what the hell is wrong with me?’, would be what you’d typically be thinking. And you were, just less in a self-deprecating way and more in a self-humiliation way. You bite your lip at the site in front of you, Leon’s clothed hard cock in his gray sweatpants. He had noticed how fixated you were and tilted his head at you with a smirk. 

“You want it?” You just stared up at him and moved your hands up to his thighs as you slid them up. “I asked you a question, answer me.” He pulled your hair a little harder this time and you moaned a little louder.

“Yes, wan’ it, Leon, please.” You were completely breathless. It had felt like your mind had turned to mush. You hadn’t even registered his question as a question when he asked, you just wanted to touch him.

“Yeah, I know.” He pushed your head forward till your cheek was pressed up against his cock. “Pretty little cockwhore just wants me inside her.” Your breath quickened when he started grinding up against your face. “Or she just wants to feel me however I please.” His voice was teasing now and he just ground down against you harder.

“However you please, just… Leon, need you.” You barely even sounded like yourself anymore. Normal you would have just pushed him away in the beginning as you made your second-hand embarrassment apparent. Normal you would have known that that was one of the easiest ways to mess with someone and would have totally used it. But here you were instead, a strong-willed smart girl who never pulled any punches now on her knees getting debased completely and absolutely loving it.

“Mmm, you’ll let me use you however I want? What if this is how I wanna do it? What if I just wanna take my cock out and rub it against your face till I cum all over you?” Even in this state you knew he was trying to trap you. He wanted to get you to disagree so he could hear you begging for whatever you really wanted. But you wouldn’t disagree, cause you don’t.

“Even then, just anything you want.” He grinned at your reply. He was tempted, he really was, but after wanting you for so long he wasn’t gonna waste this chance just to prove a point. ‘Next time.’ He pulls your head back just a little so he can see your face. Your lips are slightly parted and you just stare up at him with a grazed over expression.

“Take it out.” He says firmly and raises his eyebrows. You look down at his crotch and bring your hands up to take his dick out of his pants. You feel a sudden sting on your cheek as he slaps you across the face. “No, look at me.” He grabs your jaw and tilts your face up towards his. You make eye contact with him as you start undoing the string on his sweatpants. Part of you wants to look away just so that he’ll slap you again but you don’t. You start pulling his sweatpants and underwear down till his cock swings free. Your eyes dart down to his dick and are only able to just barely register what you’re seeing before he slaps you again just a little harder. “Did you not hear what I said to you? Look. At. Me.” You moan softly and shake your head.

“I heard you, ‘m sorry I was just curious.” You sound a little like you’re about to cry but you’re far from sad about all this.

“You’re curious?” He mocks your voice and pouts his lip before scoffing and leaning down ever so slightly. His thumb caressing your neck. “Don’t worry, once I fuck this little throat you’ll have every answer you could possibly ask for.” You shudder a little before just nodding your head and opening your mouth. You loll your tongue out and he grins. “Yeah, stay like that.” He slaps his heavy tip on your tongue and you can taste the bitterness of his pre-cum. “Open wider.” You obey him and open your mouth further. He leans forward and spits in your mouth. Your eyes flutter and you press your thighs together, which doesn’t go unnoticed. “You like that?” He laughs and rubs one of his fingers over your tongue. “You like it when I spit in your mouth? Fucking disgusting.” He grips his cock and guides it onto your tongue before pushing into your mouth. He groans and holds your head back against the side of his bed before he starts thrusting into your mouth. “Mmm, fuck. Such a good girl with a slutty little mouth. What would your friends say if they knew you’re getting face fucked by your stepbrother, and loving it so much you’re practically dripping onto the floor? What would your mom say?” You really didn’t wanna think about his second question.

“Mmm.” You just hum around his cock in response and he smirked. It’s not like you could actually respond. You kept your eyes on him, loving the way his jaw tightened when he hit the back of your throat. Or the way the muscles in his arms would twitch and flex under his tight shirt. He was right, you did love this and you could feel the discomfort of your sticky panties between your thighs, damp and uncomfortable. His hand went to the top of your head to grip your hair between his fingers and he started pushing in faster.

“Mmh, oh fuck… love sucking on your big brothers cock, yeah? Such a fucking cockwhore it doesn’t matter who it’s from.” He was thrusting at a fervent pace and it was evident he was just chasing his own high. Using your mouth as his personal fleshlight to fuck and fill. It was hot being treated like this, especially by Leon. He tightened his hold on your hair and pushed in a little too far which made you choke. It made slick pour into the gusset of your panties. Fuck, he was right. You’re a total slut. Your hands went up to hold onto his thighs for support as your eyes closed. Spit drooled down your chin and onto your chest, tears poured down your cheeks which Leon took pleasure in wiping away. “Maybe next time you’ll let me fuck that pretty pussy. Bet she’s just crying for me, you are.” ‘Next time?’ The thought made your skin burn with arousal. “Think you’re gonna let me fill up all your holes. Fuck. Yeah, I wanna see that. My obedient little stepsister leaking cum onto my bed, absolutely spent. Such a fucking whore you’d probably ask me to do it again. Fuck your little pussy till it’s sloppy and bred.” 

He wasn’t even looking at you. His head tilted back and his hips stuttered. You could tell he was getting close.

“I’m gonna cum down this slutty throat and you’re gonna swallow it all and thank me.” His face and neck were a little red and he had this sheen of sweat that the light from his lamp bounced off of. He looked like some kind of angel and if he wasn’t aggressively fucking your face you might’ve actually believed he was. “Fuck, oh take it.” He moaned and pushed his cock to the back of your throat. You could feel his hot cum paint stripes into your mouth. He rutted his tip right against the back of your throat while he moaned and mumbled. “Good girl, good girl. Take it, baby.” He pulled back out of your mouth and looked down at you while he stroked himself a few times to make sure he was done. A little bit of cum spilled from his tip and onto your thigh. You could finally swallow now that he was out of your mouth and god it felt good. You opened your mouth to show him that you really did it.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him softly and he shuddered at your words. He looked away from you and cursed as his face got red. He was just talking earlier; he didn't think you’d actually do it.

“Quit it, you’re gonna make me hard again.” He seemed a little embarrassed. He moved your hair out of your face and went to the bathroom across the hall. You heard water running for a bit and then he came back and kneeled in front of you. He silently used a warm rag to wipe away the dried tears from your face and the little bit of cum that spilled onto your chin. “There you go.” 

“Thank you.” He wiped away the bit that was on your thigh and you guys just stared at each other for a second. It wasn’t really awkward but more like each of you had something to say that you just wouldn’t. 

He leaned forward and kissed you. It was soft and sweet and you had plenty of room to move away if you didn’t want it. There was such a contrast from what you were doing now and what you had been doing, hell, how he was acting with you now and how he had always acted with you; it felt like it was short circuiting your brain, but in a good way. He pulled back and set the rag on his bedside table before picking you up and setting you on his bed. He crawled in next to you and put his arms around you. It felt a little weird but in a nice comforting way. It was something you really needed. You almost forgot that you had been sucking him off—if you could even call it that—like two minutes ago. You really weren’t tired but you laid there with him for who knows how long. 

Maybe you really didn’t hate having a stepbrother.