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josephquinnswhore · 3 months

Text

Red Wine & Reparation

Pairing: joel miller x female reader

Summary: you and Joel became young parents, married young and divorced young.. coparenting can be hard.. especially when you still love each other.

Word Count: 7k

Content Warnings: no outbreak, awkward divorced young couple, Joel Miller being a cat guy, flirting, awkwardness, slight implication of attempted SA. Unprotected sex, oral—female receiving, praise, pet names, tongue fucking, slight submissive Joel???? Creampie, mentions of pregnancy, and breastfeeding kink ??

Note: in this fic female reader & Joel are the same age, late 20’s in this fic!! This is my contribution for this week lol.

You were expecting a visit from Joel in a few hours; although you’d tried to be in contact with him, it seemed he was struggling to get back to you. Texts gone unanswered, calls sent straight to voicemail. It was unusual, and as clingy as you felt, it wasn't like Joel not to be in contact, especially when it came to your daughter, Sarah.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

He calls your name from the other side of the door. “Hey, you home?”

The door swings open and Joel stands on the other side of the door, you can't ignore the subsequent look of franticness in his brown eyes. “Hey.” His second greeting is a little more relaxed, if anything a little bashful. The tips of his ears are red under his dark brown curls.

“I just got a new phone, had a little malfunction at work with the other one, mind putting your number in?” You take the new phone, something that seemed way too fancy for Joel, an Iphone 13. As if your eyebrows raise of their own accord, it doesn't go unnoticed by him.

“I never took you for a man that cared about keeping up with the trends.” Your remark earns a scoff. “I just want to be able to keep up with everything Sarah’s into these days, all the facebooking and snapping or whatever she's got.”

His social unawareness pulls a laugh from her dry throat. “I'm surprised she wants you on her snapchat, teenage girls don’t normally want their parents seeing what they’re up to.”

He grunts. “How are you anyway—both of you.. I mean.”

“Things have been okay, I've taken a step back from work to try and relax a bit more, you know?” Although Joel nods, he can't relate, he’d just gone through the ringer of starting his own business with Tommy.

But Joel knows you need a break, he notices the physical telltale signs of stress. Lines beside your eyes that didn't seem visible a few months ago, the slight strain in yout voice and even your physical stance seems off. You seem to be trying to mask it, but he notices.

“Everything at work alright? They givin’ you trouble again?”

Again. How you'd forgotten about the last time you confided about how bad work had been getting. The unpaid overtime and extensive workload. Joel seemed furious at the thought of you wearing yourself thin and had even rung your workplace, that's an incident that got you a written warning.

In an attempt to dismiss his worries you wave your hand. “Ah it's not so bad, I’ve taken some time off with what little annual leave I have.”

“That’s good. You work too hard, you do.” His voice is softer than it had been a moment ago, his gaze settling on your own. He tries his hardest to suppress the memories as he stares into your eyes, he tries to forget how easy things were back then in comparison to now.

You break eye contact as you feel your kitten rubbing herself up against your legs. The little creature lets out a small mew.

Joel’s shock is evident on his face, the fluffy white bundle of fur rubs itself along your pant leg, its tiny mews echoing in his ears. “Oh my god, what in the world..” He stammers. “Is that…?”

Your entire face heats up. “I know.. I've never been a fan of cats but.. She's cute right?”

Joel can't help the instinctual reaction to kneel down onto the floor to get a closer look at the fluffy bundle of fur. He lets the small creature sniff his hand before petting her. With every stroke of his fingers along her pointed ears, she purrs louder. “What's her name?”

“Her names angel. Sarah named her.”

“Of course she would,” Joel murmurs, still petting the kitten as he looks up at you from the floor. “How'd you end up with a kitten anyhow?”

You huff at the memory. “Found her on the side of the road, I think someone dumped her.”

“God, that’s terrible. Why would anyone do something like that? Who just dumped a living animal in the middle of the road?” He shakes his head as he grumbles angrily. He strokes the kitten in a softer manner, expressing his sympathy for the little animal.

You're stewing in your own irritation at the thought. “Some jackass.”

The conversation seems to grow quiet, with the only noise being the kitten’s contented purrs. “She's a lucky kitty is what she is, havin’ two special girls lookin’ after her.” He murmurs, leaning in to tickle the small kitten under the chin with a chuckle.

“I never took you for a cat man, hell—you're looking like such a softie right now,” you tease.

“It's the one thing you never really knew then, right?” The kitten rolls on its back, purring as it scratches itself on the soft creamy carpet. “I bet you would’ve known all my soft spots had things been different back then.”

A sombre mood falls between the two. “Maybe so..”

Joel turns away with a regretful look in his eyes, it's a painful truth, and one the pair had both seemed to accept. Despite the way the two had seemed to adapt to the co-parenting situation.. They're both reminded every single day since their split of what could have been.

“Yeah.. maybe so.” He lets out a sigh, watching as the small kitten runs off, and he's left kneeling on the floor as he watches after it. He doesn't really know what to say.. And he's not sure you do either, it’s awkward to have these quiet moments between them.

“You know.. Sarah told me you went on a date last week.” You try to sound as encouraging as possible, but even as your heart cracks, it seems to break the silence brewing between you. And honestly, you’re nosey.

His face seems to redden at your playful accusation. “Damn.. she really has no filter, does she?” An awkward chuckle follows as he lets out a small groan and his knees crack as he stands up off the floor. As his gaze meets your own again, he wonders how you'll take the news. If he’s lucky, you’ll be jealous.

“She's a smart kid.. observant.” A small moment of silence briefs the conversation before you can stop yourself from asking.. “How was it? The date I mean.”

“That she is..” Joel murmurs before adding reluctantly. “The date was just.. Not a good fit. It didn't go well.” He shrugs, but you knew it would've been a massive blow to his self esteem. “I don't know why I tried… just thought.. maybe..” He rubs the back of his head and chuckles anxiously as he trails off.

It seems his self esteem did take quite the blow.

“Don't be so hard on yourself now, you're a catch, and any good woman will see that.”

Joel’s eyes narrow into a frown. “I'm hardly a catch.. Let's be real, I work too much.” He pauses. “Maybe I'm still caught up on..” He catches himself before he admits it..

Your ears perk at this. “Who doesn't love a hardworking man.” You tease lightly.

He manages a smile at your teasing. “I’m not a catch.. this..” He gestures to himself pitifully. “Is not a catch. Truth be told I’m.. I'm still pretty caught up on you and I'm not even ashamed to say it.”

“Hell—why?” Is all you manage to ask in a stutter.

“Because..” He lets out a frustrated noise and scratches his head anxiously. “Because I should have fought for you, I should have tried harder. You were everything I wanted. Still are.. Honestly.” His tone takes a solemn tone. “That doesn't just go away, all of those feelings.”

“You're right.. They don't just go away.” Your agreement to his statement has him wondering, his eyes searching your face for any sliver of teasing.

“So.. what does that mean? If I was to say.. If I was to ask something stupid.. Would you be angry?”

You're a little confused by his sudden bashfulness. “That depends on what you're asking.”

“Hypothetically..” He starts. “If I were to ask you out on a date, for old times sake..” He trails off and doesnt look back at you, there's a pregnant silence between you both..

“You want to take me on a date?” You ask in confusion.

He clears his throat and looks up to you, his eyes shifting around the room. “Is that a stupid question?”

“Well.. how about you ask me on a real date and maybe… I’ll say yes..”

His head spins in a daze, his heart doubles in size as he realises how much he wants this. “...are you serious?”

You simply nod, waiting for him to ask you on a date properly.

He's nervous, shifting from foot to foot, as if this was the hardest thing he's ever had to ask. “Okay then..” He mumbles to himself, clearing his throat, trying to steady his voice. “Would you care to.. Join me for a dinner date.. at my place?”

He actually asked..

“I would be happy to join you for dinner, Joel.”

It seems as if he's having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that you actually accepted. Even though it's what he wanted, needed.. He had somehow still expected you to decline. The look in your eye contractics his anxiety, though.

“You sure?” He asked, insecurity evident in his shallow voice. “I mean, you still remember how much I work, right? I have to finish this job for a client, he's on my ass about it, keeps asking me when I'm gonna be finished, but I told him I'm on track. Gonna put in some big hours to get this done.”

How could you forget, it was the reason you split all those years ago. His work was all consuming.

Your heart aches at his attempt to push you away–to take your pending rejection on the chin. “How about you let me know when you're free and you can cook for me, hm?”

The offer was flexible, giving him a chance to relieve himself of the pressure and try to find a day that works for you both.

Joel seemed to appreciate the offer, and his face visibly relaxed. “That sounds perfect, as soon as this project is done, and this client is off my ass, then we’ll figure out our date.”

“Sounds great, just send me a text and let me know, yeah?” You smile and tuck your phone into your jean pocket.

“Count on it.” He spoke with such promise it was hard not to get excited about what was to come.. Maybe they could rekindle what they once had. “I'll talk to you later then?” He takes a step towards the front door, his phone rings loudly, you assume it's a client of his.

“Yeah, we’ll talk later..”

As you close the door, it takes a moment to process what had just happened. A stupidly big smile resides on your lips, giddy with excitement, the disbelief that this is happening. Joel doesn’t text till late, but you’re ecstatic that he did get into contact about something other than who has custody of Sarah for the weekend.

Joel Miller 😉 10:45 pm

Hey, I'm sorry it's late, I just wanted to catch up. How's this weekend sound to you? For our date..

You. 10:47 pm

No sweat. What time were you thinking?

Joel Miller 😉 10:50 pm

Hoping to see you around 7. I'll cook dinner and we can just hang out. Unless you wanted to do something else?

You. 10:52 pm

No. it sounds perfect. 7 works for me.

Joel Miller 😉 10:53 pm

Great.. See you at 7 then.. Saturday..

You. 10:53 pm

Great! See you then handsome. 😉

Joel Miller 😉 10:58 pm

See you, beautiful. 😜😏😊

You can't help but laugh at the emojis Joel sent; he was such an old man that didn't understand a damn thing about technology, sure he was trying, but it seemed to get the better of him.

The week is slow and miserable, with your time off work and Sarah at school, you're not sure what to do with yourself for many hours of the days that slowly pass on by. You spend a lot of time reading your books that had sat and collected many layers of dust on the bookshelf in your living room, even taking your little kitten, angel, for walks on a small leash.

You find that as you become moderately okay with being alone, and in the company of naught but a small kitten, time seems to pass by much quicker than it did.

You'd been doting on what you'd wear all week–hell, you were still trying not to think too much about it. Choosing a simple lavender sundress, it was far too hot to wear anything that would stick to your skin. And whatever sin you’ve commited by wearing matching lavender lingerie is no one's business but your own.. Joel wouldn't know anyway.

It couldn't hurt to hope, right? It had been years since you been laid.

“God what the hell is wrong with me?” You murmur to yourself, one hand desperately clutching onto a bottle of red wine, as if you couldn't make it any more awkward. It's 6:50 pm. But you couldn't bare to sit across the damned street in your car a moment longer, your heart ager and anxiety running wild.

Knock, knock. Your hand raps on the hardwood door twice, hands shaking from being so anxious.

As the door opens, Joel grins. “Hey.. you're early.” Taking in his appearance, you can't help but swallow the saliva that had built up in the few seconds you’d spent greedily staring at him. Hell— it was only a brown cotton shirt and a pair of jeans, but he looked incredible.

“I know.. I hope that's okay.” His own eyes take a moment to appreciate your outfit, the perfectly fitting seam of lavender purple that fits snug around your breasts.

“Totally fine, I’m ready in here.. I made you something special.” The grin on his face is cheeky and he takes the bottle of wine from your trembling hands and opens the door wider for you to enter. “Come on in.”

He has absolutely outdone himself, it seemed Joel had managed to clean the entire house in the week coming up to this evening. The house is cleaner than it's ever been, his kitchen is full of colour of fruits and a wonderful aroma swirls around as you walk through the hallway. The counter is a little cluttered with spices and a half drunken can of beer.

“You've absolutely outdone yourself joel.” The compliment seemed to naturally expel from your lips, seeing how he had set the dining table up, in the middle was a simple summer salad and two wine glasses, as if he knew you'd be bringing the wine..

“I would be a terrible host if I didn't have something special in store for you..” As he trails off, the sound of a timer from the kitchen buzzes, and Joel rubs his hands together. “Here, why won't you take a seat?” He pulls the chair out, waiting for you to take the offer, of course you accept, taking a seat and he tucks your chair in.

“Be back in a moment with the food, make yourself comfortable.” The smell is absolutely incredible as Joel steps back out of the kitchen and sets a steaming pan of hot pasta right in front of you, sitting on the seat across from you.

“Jesus, how in the world? I remember all those years ago you couldn't even seem to grasp the concept of avocado toast.”

Joel laughs halfheartedly at your comment. “I wasn't much of a cook back then was I? Always relying on you to use your magic in the kitchen.” He grasps the wine and opens the bottle, pouring you a generous glass. “The fact that you remember that is pretty impressive though. That had to be what.. five or six years ago?”

You can't help but feel embarrassed to be caught out. “I guess I have a knack for remembering things, god.. Sarah would have been barely five back then..”

When you split..

Joel senses the tension in your voice, and serves himself some wine, taking a small sip. “Yeah, she was pretty young back then. It seems like only yesterday that she was a baby..” He takes a small pause as he reminisces. “I always liked when you carried her around in that sling you had for her. Never really understood why you didn't just use a pram..the sling seemed like much more work.”

You let out a small laugh. “I just liked having her close to me, and I hated those goddamn prams so much. I could never figure out how to use the stupid things.”

“Yeah, they were kinda bulky.. I never liked them much either, honestly. Still.. You'd spend like an hour just letting her nap on your chest, you would just carry her around the house.” He lifts the wine glass, his cheeks bare a resemblance to the dark red wine. “I always thought it was kinda adorable.”

The thought makes you stop and think, lifting the glass up to your lips to take a tentative sip. “Do you ever wish we could have a do over?”

He swallows the small amount of wine in his mouth, the smile that was on his face slowly fades. He never thought they would ever speak of this, of their past. He held a lot of guilt, that they fell apart because of him, he was the one who ruined a good thing. Now.. six years later, he had a chance to mend things, maybe even create something new between the two. “Every day.”

The silence hangs in the air between them for a few moments.. “Well.. either way. Sarah turned out wonderful, and that is something we both ought to be proud of.” Your hand meets his own for a brief moment.

Joel can't help but nod in agreement. Sarah was kind, intelligent, thoughtful and empathetic. He couldn't help but feel like Sarah was turning out more like you than him, and he was grateful for it. “But still, I can't help but want.. I don't want a do-over. What we had was good until I screwed it up, I just wish there was some way I could make up for that.”

“Hey—come on now.. You were working overtime back then..trying to keep our heads above water. I didn't.. I didn't understand the sacrifice you were making for our family back then.. You sacrificed a lot, joel..”

Joel looks up at you in surprise when you assure him of his goodwill. In a sense, he's grateful you're defending him, but you’ve always been too kind about the past, too forgiving, he doesn't know if he deserves it. “Yeah I was working a tonne of overtime.. I was trying to save up for a house, I wanted to take care of you both.. Guess it got out of hand.”

You can't help but feel a sense of nostalgia as you look around the house that you both raised Sarah in for the first five years of her life.. “You did it Joel, you got the house and.. Now you're starting up your own business. You've come a long way.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it, I missed out on a lot of Sarah's younger years in the process… it's not time that I can get back.. and I know it was my own doing.”

“That was your sacrifice.. And it was so she could have a good childhood. That in itself makes you an incredible father. She knows what you did for us, for her, and she loves you.”

Joel knew that much was true, he concedes this as the truth. He couldn't deny that he had an incredible relationship with his daughter. There were many things joel regretted in his life and from the past, but he couldn't recall a single moment of regret when it came to how he chose to raise Sarah.

“I think we're well overdue for some more wine, wouldn't you say?” You grin, nodding toward the bottle, and with a small smirk, Joel complies, filling your glass half full and his own the same.

“That may be true,” he replies playfully. “But I'm still gonna need you to take it easy. I'm not prepared for what you'll be like once you're tipsy.”

“I'll be on my best behaviour.” You grin, almost too mischievously.

“I'm not believing that for a single second. I know you.. as soon as the wine hits, you’re gonna lose your inhibitions and start trying to charm me.”

Rolling your eyes is an appropriate response. “As if I need to try to charm you, Joel Miller.”

“See?” He chuckles, “even now, you're flirting with me.”

You are amused by his tone and can't help but be a smartass. “Hey—this is a date.. Isn't it?”

With genuine amusement in his tone, he laughs. “Well, I suppose it is. But you can't deny that if I keep pouring you this wine, you wont end up in my lap within the half hour?”

“Pour me another glass and find out.” You challenge, setting the now empty glass in front of him.

He raises an eyebrow, but pours you a third glass of wine, handing the glass back to you. “Here you go.” He wonders if he'll be right in his prediction.

You hold the glass up and take a sip, eyes closing momentarily as the warmth slides straight down to your stomach. Silently thanking him.

Joel leans back into his chair, after topping up his own glass that wasn't quite empty yet, watching you with a brightness in his eyes. “You know, even though we haven't been an actual couple in half a decade, it's still nice to be having one of these again.. as strange as that sounds.”

With a raised eyebrow and amusement in your tone. “I dont think its strange at all, I think it's wonderful.”

He hums in response, finally digging into the pasta that had been sitting there since he served it steaming hot off the stove, you follow in tow, deciding that your stomach has somehow made room for the deliciously smelling creamy pasta. You can't help but groan in delight as you chew the creamy pasta. “Fucking delicious.” You mutter.

As the two of you decide to eat, Joel notes that you’re out of wine… “I'll get another bottle.” You insist, seeing that he's digging into his dinner.

You know your way around the kitchen you'd spent years living in, reaching upward for the wine cupboard, it seems you can't quite reach, whispering to yourself.. “Goddamnit.” You don’t realise you’ve been staring at the cupboard for a few minutes until you hear him.

“Having some trouble?” You don't have the nerve to turn around at how husky his voice sounds. He decided to take advantage of the fact that he had disarmed you with his voice alone, and slips up behind you, his chest flush against your back. He doesn't bother to help you reach the wine, instead he wraps his arms around your waist.

You can't help but lean backwards into him, closing your eyes as you lean your head backward into his shoulder. Your heart skips at the sensation of him pulled taut against you, it had been too long since he held you like this.

His hand caresses the side of your neck, and he whispers softly into your ear. “How's the wine treating you baby? Seems like your skin is a little warm..” He teased boldly.

“Who said it's got anything to do with the wine? My handsome ex husband is holding me— I think that calls for some mandatory blushing, does it not?”

Joel chuckles and squeezes you tighter around your hips, his body pressing against yours firmly, your hips pressed against the bench. “Ex-husband… is that what I am to you now?” He asked, smirking.

You can't help but laugh breathlessly. “Legally, yes.”

“Legally, maybe,” he replies, his smirk broadening. “But in my eyes.. Who you truly belong to is not a matter of legality..” He leans in and whispers softly into your ear, his lips tickle the skin. “Just a matter of heart..”

You shudder as his warm breath warms your ears. “Joel Miller, the romantic.”

“What can I say, you bring out the best in me.” He replies softly, lips against your neck, his voice carries a seductive undertone. One hand slides up your arms and he grabs you to spin you around, his eyes boring into you as your back is pushed against the counter, you’re forced to meet his gaze as his hand grips the nape of your neck. “Do you want to know what I really think about you?”

His sudden manoeuvre has her shocked into near silence. “What do you think of me Joel?”

He hesitates, trying to find the right words. He can't mess this up, not with your large and vulnerable eyes watching him. “You're beautiful,” he praised softly. “You have the most kind-hearted soul I've ever known.. You're a wonderful mother… and you’ll be the only one I’ll ever truly want..”

Maybe the wine helped him be bold enough to be truthful in this moment, or oversharing. He felt like this might be the only chance he might have.

“Why did it take half a bottle of wine for you to tell me all this?” You mumble.

Joel goes quiet. He can't help but stare down at you, the smirk on his lips fades, you'd always been able to see through him. “I was scared,” a note of humility in his voice. “Scared that once you knew, you wouldn't want to look at me again. I always thought you were out of my league, ya know? I didn't deserve someone like you…still don't know if I do.”

His self depreciation was never something you would come to accept. “Don't talk like that, Jesus Joel. You really have no idea how much I love you, do you?”

“How can you still love me?” He asks, although he's almost afraid of the answer you'll give. “I hurt you, I let myself drift so far from what mattered..”

“Joel… you've done nothing that isn't worth forgiving,” you promise softly.

Joel can't help himself as he pulls you against him, chest to chest. He holds you tightly, as if it might be the last time…”But that's the problem,” he said softly. “Not that what I did isn’t forgivable…but that it didn't need to happen in the first place. It hurts me just thinking about how much I lost sight of things, but it can't have been worse than how much I must've hurt you…”

Your hands have a mind of their own as they cup his cheeks, making him look down at you. “Now you listen to me, okay? I love you. Things were not easy for us back then.. We were young parents and struggling to pay the bills, parenthood hit us fucking hard and we didnt make it..” You sigh, your eyes full of love and vulnerability. “Hell—I don't even remember half of it… but were here now, we have a chance to make things better than they were, we can start new.”

He nods as he rests his forehead against your own, a small smile on his lips. You easily wipe away any insecurity and self guilt he held for their split. You were right, of course. This wasn't the time to dwell on the past, on what could've been, not when the two of you were here… now, with a brand new start. “Let's try again, huh?” He asks in a low whisper.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you nod against his own warm skin. “Let's try again…”

His hands are warm as they caress your cheeks, he pulls you into him for a kiss, lips meeting and you're flooded with emotion, all the doubt and uncertainty you both held washed away as soon as your lips connected. The bittersweet aftertaste of wine lingers on your warm lips. He struggled to pull away from you, but he looked down at your loved filled eyes, gazing softly up at him. “God, I've missed that.” He whispers softly.

He brushes a handful of strands of loose hair out of your face, looking down at you, you note his pupils are dilated. “You still take my breath away,” he laughs softly, caressing your cheek.

You flush at his praise. “Trying to get in my good books already?”

He was definitely trying. “You can't fault me for trying, I could really use some brownie points right now, ya know?”

Laughing at his sense of humour, you roll your eyes. “You're a crooked man Joel, and I love it.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?” An amused tone in his voice, his body pressing against your own. He leans down to kiss you again softly, his hands caressing your waist and letting his fingers trail up the side of your torso.

“Of course it's a compliment—other men have their heads on straight and they are just…weird. You're a little crooked, a little weird, and I like that..”

The way you accept his flaws leaves him more in awe of you, he can't complain at how endearing you find his oddities. “And so youre saying it's a good thing that I'm a little unhinged at times?” He chuckles, reaching up under your chin to trace small shapes on the soft skin.

You have a little mischief twinkling in your eyes.. “Oh you know—when you get all angry and protective. Definitely crooked, but so sexy.”

“You find it hot when I get territorial over you?” He couldn't help but laugh at her admission.

The wine flows through you, giving you a sense of boldness. You run a hand down his chest, manicured fingers tickling him through the brown cotton shirt. “Do you remember that time I was on a date with that jackass, I was drunk outta my mind—”

He scowls at the memory of that night, you, his ex-wife on a date with some chump named James. The man had tried to take you home, even though you were inebriated. “Yeah, I do,” he replied with a possessive tone to his voice. “You were wasted, couldn't even walk straight.. But I knew what that animal was thinking, I could see the way he looked at you.”

“All I could remember was how infuriated you were, the sexiest thing I'd ever seen..” Your eyes draw him in, batting your lashes at him.

Joel smirks, a light blush spreading from his neck up his cheeks, to his ears from your comment. “You thought it was sexy huh? I thought I'd lost my shit and went a little overboard..”

You can only shrug, unbothered by his reaction at that time. “Oh—maybe you did, I mean you did beat him to a pulp in that forsaken carpark, didn’t you baby? All for me.”

“That prick needed his ass kicked either way,” he growls. “There was no way I was letting him have you.. Drunk or not, that man crossed a line, and I’d do it all over again.”

Your heart doubles in size, and you can feel your knees weakening. “You'd do it all over again?”

He doesn't hesitate. “I'd do it a thousand times over.. At that moment.. in my mind, you were still my girl, being hit on by some creep. And I wasn't going to let him take you away from me.” He pauses, wondering if his explanation sounded too crazy. “You still meant alot to me.. Even after we split.. You always have.”

You run a finger down his cheek, the coarse hairs of his beard make a sound that sends a tingle down your spine. “What I wouldn't do to see that side of you again.”

Joel tilts his head slightly and takes a moment to ponder your comment. He was surprised to hear you admit how much you loved this dominant and possessive side of him. “That side of me.. You want to see it again, cause I can make it happen, baby girl. Just say the words.”

You couldn't help the way you trembled, sure that the only thing keeping you up right was Joel's hips pressing against your own, back digging into the bench. “Please,” you beg pathetically. His hand reaches up to your neck, holding you by the neck, forcing you to look up at him. He applies a small amount of pressure that has you whimpering.

The way you melt under his possessive gesture was enough for him to feel confident that this side of him was still within reach and you loved it. He leans closer to you and kisses you again, this time more forcefully. He lets his fingers dig into your soft flesh, squeezing firmly while knowing it's not causing you pain or discomfort.

Hearing your squeaking moans, and the way your body seems to relax into him as he takes control of you.. He takes this as motivation to move his lips against yours with a different kind of hunger. Feeding into the darker side of himself, trying to recapture that long-lost side of him that he's lost after letting you walk out of his life.

But he wouldn't let you go, no, not this time. He had his fingers digging into your flesh and his lips moving against yours with so much force, he shoves his tongue into your mouth..

His free hand wanders along your body, feeling the warmth of the wine and from the heat of his touch, your body reacting exactly how it used to, as if no time has passed at all. His hand gropes your breast roughly, squeezing and slipping past the two layers of fabric. He pulls away from your lips, eyes darkening. “Wearing a lace bra just for me, huh baby? Bet you've got a matching set on, don't you?” He growls.

“Y–Yes..” A feeble moan emits from your lips, smothered in his spit. The thought drives him wild, and slides down the straps to your dress and takes in the lavender lace bra you brought specially for tonight. “Fuck, you’re a naughty girl aren’t you?”

When you don't respond, he grabs at your breasts roughly, grasping the soft flesh between his calloused fingers, pinching your nipples harshly, making you cry out in pleasure, it was a sensitive spot for you, one that Joel remembered well.

He leans down, greedily sucking all the sweat off your warm skin, licking and nipping, his teeth biting down into the flesh of your neck, leaving an immediate mark, claiming his stake on you. You were his..

His lips messily kissed your breasts, tongue finally meeting the nipple where he suckled harshly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Do you remember when you were pregnant? Let me drink your milk straight from the source, didn’t you baby? Fuck.. what I wouldn’t give to do that again,” he whimpers against your skin.

Your heart races, running your fingers through his dark hair. He spends his time at your breasts, alternating pleasuring the two, making sure they’re both equally as tended to as the other. “Tits are so fucking perfect baby.” He praises.

His greedy hands trail down your body, the fabric of your dress bunching at his fingers, as he slides them down your legs, he’s on his knees.. face to face with the matching lavender lace panty that covers your pussy. An involuntary moan leaves his lips, he can’t tear his eyes away at the large sopping wet patch in the middle of your panties. “Fucking hell, I can smell your need, you know that?”

Your legs tremble at his sudden growl, he could smell her arousal? The thought embarrassed her. The thought didn’t stay long in her head, he presses his face into your cunt with the panties still on, moaning against you. His large nose bumping your swollen clit through the material, and you let out a whine and curl your fingers through his hair. “Please Joel.. I need more.”

He ignores your pleas for more, licking and sucking you through your panties, he can taste you through them, he’s like an animal being teased through a cage, and he’s painfully hard, teasing the both of you with his devilish antics.

“Fuck Joel! Please!” You beg a little louder, crying out as she tugs on his hair.

Without another moment passing, his thick fingers tear the lace in half, exposing your mound. You didn’t shave, your pubic hair was trimmed but still bush enough for Joel to dive into. His mouth watered, he had always had a preference for hair down there, he’d seen it in pornography magazines growing up, and he fucking desired it ever since.

Women these days are all about shaving, being bare and having brazilians.

Fuck that. This is what Joel needed.

“Fucking hell baby you’re gonna kill me.” He groaned into your cunt. Diving face first, his arms wrap around your ass and pull you tight, his face buried into your cunt as far as he could go.

You stumble and lift one leg over his shoulder, trying to support yourself a little more. It feels impossible though, the way Joel’s tongue dives into your cunt, lapping at the juices you’re giving him, pushing his tongue as far into your hole as he can reach. His hawkish nose presses into your clit and you feel your legs trembling, like you’re about to topple over.

“Joel..” you warn breathlessly. You’re close, so fucking close.

“Cum for me baby. Fuck.. please.” Suddenly he was the one begging, on his knees lapping at your cunt, whining against you. Feeling him beg against you was all it took for you to come undone.. your legs buckle and you tremble above him, clutching onto his shoulder, as you cry out, your clit tingles with pleasure as Joel slowly rolls his tongue against it, trying to string out your orgasm.

He laps you up, all of you, not letting a single drop go to waste, his eyes are black with desire and his face is glistening with you, smeared all over his face, finally, he rises to his feet. “Turn around baby girl.” He orders, his voice husky from your slick.

You can do nothing but comply, he shoves you against the counter, your hips against the cold wood. You can hear him, his breaths are quick, he’s frantically unbuckling his belt, tying the brown leather around your wrists..

You feel his hard cock against your ass, and your eyes widen, forgetting how big he was, did he get bigger?

With one hand he pushes you down onto the bench so you’re lying, face down. “That’s it angel. You’re so fucking sweet, aren’t you baby?” He praises senselessly, the swollen tip of his cock meets your hole and you squeak out, he stretches you, beyond what you ever remembered. “J-Joel.” You whine and inhale sharply, face still pressed against the cold countertop, arms bound behind your back and his throbbing thick cock pushing inside of you, you’re helpless, completely at his mercy and you fucking love it.

Your cunt can testify the fact, it’s dripping, all over Joel, he pushes himself into the hilt of you and groans loudly, a loud grunt leaving his lips. One hand holds you flat against the counter, the other holds your bound arms at his chest.

He slowly starts to thrust, legs quaking with desire, he knows he won’t last long, fuck, he’s never had a pussy so perfect, not after you, all he knows is the warmth of you, your perfectly tight hole, sucking him in deeper.

Your moans are loud, but muffled by your cheeks squished against the counter, you can almost feel him in your ribs, with every thrust it feels like you’re running out of oxygen. Strangled gasps leave your lips as your pussy clenches around him, threatening to spill over a second time..

Joel can feel it, the way you grip him, he knows he won’t last, he grunts as he presses himself flush against you, your arms behind your back hinder his need to be closer to you, but this way.. he wraps his hand around your neck, bringing you upright, flush to his chest.

“Fuck, that’s it baby.” He growls, his cock pummels into you mercilessly, and now you’re free to cry out as loud as you can.

“Joel.. Joel.. I’m.. I..” you stutter, in between moans, your cunt clenching around him. You tense up as you orgasm a second time, creaming all over his throbbing cock.

He brings you totally upright, his hand tightening around your throat. “Fuck baby.. I’m gonna cum.. fill this perfect pussy up.” He whimpered into your ear, biting down on your neck.

You can feel him tensing, seconds later.. heavy and warm ropes of his cum spurt so far into your womb you whimper, knowing that he’s sure to get you knocked up.. again. He lets out the most obnoxious grunting as he pants heavily into your ears.

“Joel.. fuck I’m.. not on birth control.” You whimper. He keeps his cock inside of you, until he softens and pulls out of you, untying the belt that restrained your hands, as your hands fall limply by your sides, he kisses your shoulders, knowing there’s ought to be an ache.

“Good. Maybe we can have a do over after all, hm?” He murmurs softly, kissing the back of your neck. His hands find their way down to your stomach, caressing it softly. “Wouldn’t hurt to have just one more.. would it?”

After all, Joel Miller was a possessive man, a greedy man. You would bare as many children as he wished, because you weren’t ever going anywhere again. You were his.

“Might as well marry me again while you’re at it.” You tease breathlessly.

He hums against your skin, his forehead resting on the back of your shoulder. “Already thinkin’ bout it baby.”

Because Joel Miller wouldn’t let you get away, not this time.

#young Joel miller #hbo Joel miller #Joel miller smut #Pedro pascal #Joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #Joel miller x you #Joel miller #the last of us

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netherfeildren · 7 months

Text

Pink : Part I : Humanist Seeking Person in Love

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Humanism: an outlook or system of thought attaching prime importance to human rather than divine or supernatural matters. Humanist beliefs stress the potential value and goodness of human beings, emphasize common human needs, and seek solely rational ways of solving human problems.

The story of a son who won’t love you, and his father, who will.

-OR-

the father-in-law AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; Fix-it-fic but the thing that needs fixing is a person; Daddy issues; Daddy kink; Divorce; Welcome to the father-in-law suck and fuck extravaganza; Possessive behavior; Jealousy; Slow burn but like not really; DD/lg dynamics; Older man/Younger woman; Self esteem issues; Discussions of emotional and mental abuse; Unhealthy coping mechanisms

A/N: Check the tags on the masterlist, as well!

Word Count: 7.4K

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

1. Humanist Seeking Person in Love

The video you’d watched had said that the differences between a jamb nut and a coupling nut should have been obvious. A jamb nut, which was what you were currently looking for, was typically half as tall as a standard nut, or a coupling nut, and would be of a small, stouter shape compared to the other options. As you stare at the wall of overwhelming stock, the incomprehensible mess of steel, PVC, aluminum and plastic hardware you feel, a little bit, like you’d like to start screaming as loud as you possibly can, for as long as you possibly can. Just a rip roaring and rageful, top of your lungs, screech. Maybe it’d scare the leering men around you. Maybe they’d desist from the ogling of your ass in the tight confines of your ratty leggings, or the mildly pitying glances as your frustration and confusion becomes more and more obvious.

You try and take a deep breath, glancing down at your phone again and the screenshots you’d taken of the parts you need to fix your leaky kitchen sink. Zooming in, you hold the picture up next to the pipeware currently gripped in your sweaty hand and wonder again if what you’ve chosen is the right piece. You don’t understand why the hardware store, a local business, isn’t as neatly and efficiently organized as the larger chains, and why they make it so damn hard for someone without experience to come in and shop. You don’t want to buy the wrong thing and waste the money you already don’t have, you don’t want to have to make the trek back to this God awful fucking place. You hate the hardware store, you hate the way it smells, dusty and wooden, the cavernous hollow echo of it, the leering gazes of the men shopping, looking at you as if you’re some helpless child, something soft and easy to snap up and eat. You hate the memory of following your father around on many a Sunday morning after he’d forced you to come with him in some false attempt at bonding, at spending time together when really all it was, was another instance of you cowering behind him, trying to make yourself as silent and small as possible so as to avoid his anger and irritation.

You look back down at the piece of PVC in your clutch, at the picture of what you’re supposed to be buying again, back at the other option, a copper bolt you think might look right but can’t really tell the difference, and you feel the backs of your eyes pinch and go hot and achy. A sharp, throbbing pain starting up behind your left eye and spiraling out like a stain to cover your forehead. You want to go home. You want your kitchen sink to stop leaking. You want the past year to never have happened. For your marriage to not have so irrevocably unraveled that the husband you’d so desperately fought to keep had left you out in the cold, divorced, very nearly penniless in a new apartment that you couldn’t make feel like home no matter how many fall scented candles and throw pillows you stuffed into every nook and cranny. You want to not have to make decisions like these and take care of things like this. You want very, very badly for someone else to come and take care of you, help you, make the choices that seem very hard in the moment but that, in the grand scheme of things, aren’t really so difficult, but that still sometimes call for a second opinion, wiser, more experienced hands.

And in that next blink, in a soft, deep voice that should not be as easily recognizable in your mind as it is given the handful of times you’ve actually heard it, your name, being murmured from behind you. The lilt of a question, the gruff of shock coating the syllables as it pushes against your bare nape. Soft as a sledgehammer, like ice water down your naked back, your shoulders hitch up to your ears, going tense and frightened, a hot flush of shame spilling through you, the keenest desire to run away from that soft voice as fast as your stupidly October flip flopped feet’ll take you. You hiccup the half sound of his name, not turning around, lashes fluttering quickly to prevent the dry heat of your eyes from spilling over, nerveless fingers going listless around the plastic nut. You don’t want to turn around. This is a cursed place, this hardware store, and you should never have come, and you really do hate it here. Deep breath, deep breath. Be polite, be succinct. You don’t need to talk to him. You don’t need to think about the past. Fuck the sink, fuck the pipes. You’ll just move apartments. You let a long stream of air out of your mouth, and then turn on the ball of your foot to face him.

“Mr. Miller,” you breathe with a limp smile you know isn’t going to fool anyone.

He frowns, the line of his mouth wavering as he tries to contain his displeasure. “We really back to that?” You shake your head, looking away from him as the last shopper in the aisle you’re inhabiting walks away, leaving the two of you alone. The store suddenly seems to exist in a vacuum echo, all other patrons seeming to disappear, all sound going out. You even feel the imitation of a hollow pop in your ear drums. When you look back at him, he’s really scowling now. His strong brow pulled down over those too pretty, thickly lashed hazel eyes that you know so well on another man, a younger version of him.

It was the first thing you’d noticed about him, the first time Sam had introduced you to his father, they have the same eyes. The same but different. There was a coldness to Sam’s gaze that you hadn’t recognized until it was too late for you, but you recognized it now, with a painful sort of awareness, recognized the lack thereof in his father’s eyes, how different they were even in their similarity.

He raises his brows at you, a pressing gesture, “Joel.” His name feels like salt on an open sore in your mouth. “What are you doing here?” And he looks at you, just a little bit, like you’re an idiot, or maybe that’s only you, for his voice is gentle when he says, “Pickin’ up supplies with some of the boys on my crew. What’re you doin’ here, sweetheart? Sam with you?” Your heart beats like that of a small and hunted creature, pounding painfully against the confines of your ribs while a hot, humiliated flush washes through your entire body, heat suffusing your face so intensely there’s probably steam rising off the surface of your skin. You shake your head quickly, a barely there jerk. You’re suddenly trembling so hard your throat aches as if it’s been pierced by a lancet straight through. Another sharp jerk, and he steps forward a concerned look marring his face.

“You haven’t spoken to him.” It isn’t a question.

“He’s been feildin’ my calls for months. Assumed I’d done something– something else, last time to piss him off again. What’s wrong? Everything okay?” He pauses, head tilting, and you can’t look him in the face as you say it, gaze falling to your fingers twisted around the nut.

“We’re not together anymore. He– he left me. We got divorced six months ago.”

Shocked into silence he takes another step towards you, the toe of his heavy boot coming into your eye line. The ends are thick and rounded, and you wonder if there’s a casing of steel within, how much a kick in the ribs would hurt delivered by a boot like that, and the violent thought startles you, your eyes going wide, shooting up to his face as if worried he could read your thoughts. Ashamed that something like that in reference to him would even cross your mind, for looking at him, the gentleness in his gaze, the utter concern, a man like this would never hurt a creature softer than him, you know that.

It’s funny, or strange, or a phenomena not easily understandable or explainable unless you’d had a certain type of experience with a certain type of man, but there was a sort of sixth sense instilled in a person who’d dealt with cruel men that made it easy to recognize when one had the capacity to hurt you and when he didn’t. There were, of course, those who were good at masking it, but there was always something, a way they held themselves or moved around others, the cadence of their voices, clues that spoke of the sort of man he was. And from the first moment you’d met him, you’d thought Joel had something that spoke only of gentleness. Despite his size and seemingly rough aspect, there was something about his voice, and the way he carried himself, the way he moved around those who were smaller or weaker or less, less alive, less potent than him, that was always careful and always aware.

“What?” He moves as if he’s going to reach for you, and you flinch back, the curve of your spine bumping into the framing of the shelves behind you, face turning away quickly. He goes tense, forcing himself into stillness, the white of his teeth flashing in a grimace, but he puts his palms up in a staying gesture, it’s alright, easy, he murmurs, I won’t touch you, hands lowering to fist in the pockets of his jeans into tight balls of false restraint. As if he’s afraid of what they might do of their own volition otherwise. “What do you mean he left you? What happened? He–”

“I don’t want to discuss this with you. Call him again or– or I don’t know. It’s not my business anymore. He was never happy with me,” you stupidly add, finally braving a look back at his eyes again, a bitter laugh scratching up your throat, “You know this. Call your son, Joel.”

You move to leave, to get away from him, but he shifts, blocking your escape, sending your heart up into your throat. “Honey, wait–” but you’re spinning on your heel the other way, stumbling in your flip flops, and you think he says something about the wrong way, but you’re rushing, blindly trying to get away from him down the aisle as fast as you can. You’re going to cry, you can feel it, any second now. You weren’t expecting to see him, the reminder of everything that had happened, your marriage and its failure and the part Joel had played in it. A painful and jarring shock to your nervous system that you’d not been prepared to receive. You blindly scramble through the aisles of the hardware store, losing yourself to the gloom of the dimly lit back rows where plywood and carpeting are stocked, that detested dusty hollow smell intensifying. You take another blind turn, another, until the sounds of the store have gone faint and then a frightening pressurized silence. Bracing your palms against one of the eye level shelves you let your head fall between your shoulders, your bag sliding down your arm to hang and sway at the bend of your elbow. You watch the slow back and forth pendulous movement, eyes wide and blurred. If you don’t blink, you won’t cry, and you’re so fucking tired of crying over this.

“If you were tryn’a get away from me, exit was in the opposite direction,” comes his voice again. Your eyes flutter shut, a single tear drips from the line of your lashes onto the dusty concrete floor.

“Please, go away,” you croak.

“Tell me what happened.”

“What do you think happened? Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“He– he’s a fuckin’ idiot, sweetheart–”

Your stomach lurches, “Don’t call me that.”

But he doesn’t listen, continues on unheeded. “There’s gotta be something we can do. I’ll– I’ll talk to him. I’ll make him see that–” You let your head fall back the opposite way now, looking up at the high, cavernous ceiling of the store, another bitter laugh. It’s the only kind left to you now.

“I don’t want him back, Joel. Be serious.”

“He needs you–” And oh, that makes you angry.

“Fuck you.” You spin around to spit the words at him, rushing forward to shove at his rock solid chest. He doesn’t budge even half an inch. You shove again, again, a humiliating sob making its way up your chest. You blink then, you can’t help it, the tears fall unrestrained. It’s a specific type of humiliating, facing the estranged father of the man who you’d been married to, who’d been unable to love you, who’d abandoned you.

Sam and Joel had been unaware of each other’s existence for almost twenty eight years, but two years ago, Sam’s mother had finally told him about his father, his name, where he lived, how they’d gotten together when they were too young, and how she’d split, scared and vulnerable, without telling him a thing. The two of you’d gone looking for the man, and you’d both been varying degrees of shocked at what you’d found. Sam, faced with a man so unlike himself he’d immediately resented him more than he already had for the fact of his absence his entire life. You, as well, faced with a man so unlike your husband that it had made you resent your marriage even more. Immediately welcoming, loving, patient, gracious and generous and forgiving of the fact that a son had been kept from him for almost three decades. Despite the severity of his character, his serious reservedness, he’d done everything in his power to open himself to this long lost son. Not once had the news been met with cruel anger or outrage. Joel had accepted his son immediately and without question, listening to his mother’s reasoning, accepting the fact that a mistake had been made, forgiving, willing to move on and embrace Sam in all the ways he’d been denied for so long. Sam hadn’t been able to fathom it. He’d been mistrustful, hostile, angry, all the things he always was but compounded and heightened to a terrible degree he eventually started taking out on you.

And it was funny because the fraught, or lack thereof, relationships with your fathers had been the thing that had initially bonded the two of you. Too young and alone and without direction, you’d met him in your last year of college. The relationship had immediately developed without boundaries or reason, you’d been obsessed, a little desperate, unquestioning, and then married a few short months later. Two too young, too lost people, burdened with daddy issues. A terribly sad cliche. You’d never had a chance. You never should have been. And there’s a part of you now, looking up at this man, your ex-husband’s father, that wants to feel angry at him, that wants to spit in his face and say this is all your fault, everything that happened to me, everything that was done to me was in your name, and I blame you for all of it, but you know it’s without reason or countenance. And worst of all, anger, blame, resentment, it’s not anything near to the things you feel when you look at him. The memory of a small, dark restroom flashes in your mind’s eye, his eyes gleaming above your face, the thick slope of his shoulder, the patterned wallpaper behind him, sickening comfort.

You go still and frozen, fingers twisting in the front of his shirt, jerking with a painful shiver from the top of your head, down the length of your vertebrae, to the tips of your toes that cramp and spasm. Looking up at his face, you can feel a pulse throbbing in the muscle beneath your right eye, and the way he looks down at you, as if he’s never felt as sorry for any other creature in his entire life as he does for you in this moment, so embarrassing. You let your head fall forward again, landing with a soft thump against his chest, an uncontrollable tremble moving like fire through your frame. “Fuck you,” you say again, whispered, soft and weak and without any sort of force behind it. “How dare you say that to me,” another tear. “He’s always needed you. It was never me he wanted, never me he needed. It was always you.” You watch as one hand withdraws from its pocket cage, lifting to push a soft tendril of hair back behind your ear. And there’s fire left in the wake of the brush of his skin at the hollow there. Another shiver of a worse kind, one of desire, one of lust, moves through you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it – I’m sorry, honey.” Stupid southern charm and their stupid pet names. You clutch at his shirtfront more tightly, press your forehead harder into his sternum, and he brings his hand to your shoulder, tucking you into himself more securely. He’s huge and warm and smells faintly of salt and sweat and laundry detergent. Something clean and fresh and masculine. He smells alive. His other hand comes up to the back of your head, moving through your hair. Fucking, Sam, he murmurs above you, and you’re sure he’s shaking his head in that disappointed fatherly way. “Tell me what you were looking for. What had you lookin’ so confused and irritated in the plumbing aisle?” You’d laugh if you could, a non bitter sort, but you don’t have the ability anymore, and that makes you so angry. Angry and irrational.

“My sink’s leaking, and I can’t afford a plumber because your son divorced me and left me with no money and no house and nothing for myself, and I hate this stupid place. I hate the way it smells, and I hate that nothing’s labeled clearly, and I hate the way you men,” you shove at his chest a little bit again, “look at me like I’m some dumb little girl who doesn’t know left from right.” Even if that’s what you kind of feel like, a dumb little girl who doesn’t know left from right anymore. Slightly out of breath, you go limp and exhausted against him. His palm flattens at the center of your spine, supporting you, and it’s so fucking inappropriate. You should move away. You don’t know him well enough for this, he’s your ex-father-in-law, you shouldn't let him touch you, but should and should not and right and wrong and inappropriate or not has never really mattered to you where Joel Miller is concerned. “This is the worst place in the whole world,” you mumble, voice muffled from where your face is squished against the annoyingly hard and delicious muscles of his chest. You feel, keenly, like you’re being a little bit ridiculous, a little bit embarrassing, but his big hand is slowly moving up and down the length of your spine, soothing and comforting, and you can’t bring yourself to care. He’d been kind from the first second you’d met him, and then, at the worst moment, he’d been understanding, and you’d never really stood a chance against him either.

You’d never had a chance with the son, you’d never stood a chance against the father, there had never really been much choice or possibility for you as a whole where either of them were concerned.

I was such a little person. Tiny in my insignificance, naivety, hope. Desperate to be as good as I could be, and pathetic in my failure to make myself into what I thought the world wanted of me.

“You can’t afford–” He breathes out roughly through his nose, stopping himself from continuing. “Do y’know what it is you’re looking for? What part?” And you nod your head, still buried against him, unable or unwilling to pull away. “Let me help you,” and he says it so, so gently that it makes you want to stomp your foot and cry and throw a fit at the unfairness of it all.

“Don’t want your help,” you can’t help the muffled whine it comes out as. All you want is for someone to help you.

“Of course you don’t, sweetheart,” he soothes. “But let me anyway. S’the least I can do for talkin’ out of my ass.” You finally pull back, looking up at him, and he brings his thumb up to catch the wetness at the fine skin beneath your eye. “Please, don’t cry,” he whispers like it hurts him.

And even though he’s currently catching the salt of your eyes with his fingers, you lie obstinately, “I’m not,” whispered back just as quiet.

After he helps you find the correct piece for your sink, finally, which ends up being neither of the options you’d been previously weighing, a fact that almost sends you over the deep end again, and paying for it at his aggravating and overbearing insistence, he walks you to your car.

“Is he still in Austin?” He asks as he holds your door open for you, your shopping bag still clutched in his hand. One of the guys on his crew had come to find him while you were checking out, but he’d sent him away with a shake of his head, said he had something to take care of.

“I don’t know, but he sold our house.”

“Fuck– Where’re you living?” The sound of his spit curse has a wet flutter moving through you, shame following bitterly in its wake.

“I got an apartment in the East Side.”

“And he just left you to fend for yourself? Took your fucking house?” He’s getting angry, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get angry. Something foreign like excitement jumps within you.

“Well, that’s the point of divorce, Joel. You separate and are left to your own devices.” You reach for the little plastic bag, but he jerks it out of your reach.

“He has a responsibility to you. He–”

“Again… the point of divorce.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, that boy,” he mutters, shaking his head. And that’s the thing of it, you think, that’s always been the crux of the issue. Sam was always a boy, has always been just a boy… there had never been any chance. “Let me come help you with the sink. Let me fix it for you.” Something to take care of, that’s what he’d said, that’s what he’d called you, what he sees you as.

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish getting the words out, full of regret, and a wish that it could have all been different from the very start. “You know that isn’t a good idea,” and he goes silent because he does, he does know, he’d known since the first time probably. It had been obvious in the way that a secret thing can only be between the two people involved in the unsaid. “I can do it myself. Don’t worry. I’ll find a way.”

“You still got the same number?” He asks.

“Please, don’t call me. Call Sam. He’s the one that needs you. He’s the one that–”

“And who’s taking care of you? Who’s gonna take care of you, sweetheart? You need someone too, we all do.”

A flash of that earlier anger again, and you reach forward to rip the bag out of his clutch now, angry because he’s right. Because he’d always seemed to have a grossly misplaced ability to read you exactly as you are. He’d read you for what you were from the first second he’d laid eyes on you, naive and hopeful and falsely in love with a son who’d never loved either of you in return. “Maybe,” you tell him, “But that can’t be you.” He looks away from you, gruff sound of irritation passing through his clenched teeth, and he drags a heavy palm down his bearded mouth. Fuck, again that provoking spit curse. The wallpaper in that dark restroom had been covered in little blue motifs, butter yellow details sparsed throughout. It had surprised you, the pretty and delicate design in the home of a, for all intents and purposes, bachelor. It spoke of intention and attention to detail, to his space, to care of his home. That dim moment was, strangely, sickly, the brightest memory of the entire two years of your marriage.

“You still got my number?” He presses anyways. Unheeded or uncaring of you trying to push him away, and there’s something about that, that’s pleasurable, his inability to let a thing go where you’re concerned, his unwillingness to allow you to hold him at arms length. Like he doesnt care to be kept away from you, and so he won’t. You nod your head once, face burning, molars grinding to keep yourself still and in place. You’d felt, for two years, trapped, running in place, and now left limp and exhausted and colorless, and you hope that he can’t read that exhaustion in you. For some reason, that would be more embarrassing than everything else, for him to see just how defeated you’d been left. He gives you one of those looks, those direct, piercing, aggravating looks that you’ve seen from him before, aggravating in a way that is inciting, like a relentless tongue against a slick swollen cunt, God. Your hands are shaking, and he bends his head down to your level to look at your directly, “You promise me that if you need anything, anything at all, doesn’t matter what it is – that you’ll call me. No matter the hour, no matter what it is. Promise me.” Another sharp jerk of your chin, if you talk you’ll scream or make a sound not wholly belonging to the body of a girl, woman, whatever you are. Another nod, the mute shape of an okay passing through your lips. And his face is so concerned, his hand almost lifted in the imitation of what you have to tell yourself, as a form of self preservation, is an ill intentioned caress or hug, but that you know he’d mean as nothing more than genuine comfort. You deflate in relief when he doesn’t touch you, right here, out in the open for the whole world to bear witness to. Things like that, after all, are only meant for dark, wallpapered bathrooms. He’d already taught you this.

The relationship had not been what either of them had expected, Sam and Joel, from the get go. There was a smallness to his son, a pettiness and a cruelty and a spoiled rotten vein through the core of him that was incongruous with who Joel was as a man, something that was glaringly obvious to all involved. And try as he might, in those early days, they could not overcome the disparity in their personalities. The attempts from Joel at closeness had been fraught with tension and unsaid resentments, and eventually Sam had given up, stopped answering his father’s calls, evading his attempts to connect. Your marriage had spiraled into dissolution shortly after that. As if the failure to find whatever it was he’d for so long hoped for in a relationship with his father had highlighted all of the things you yourself lacked, all the ways in which you were so specifically dissatisfying to him and always would be.

The marriage had not ended up being what either of you had hoped for, the honeymoon phase quashed and dead early on, no brightly lit halcyon. Reality had set in quickly when confronted with the disjointedness of your pairing, a bone out of place, your specific inability to please him in the ways he’d thought you would when he’d first met you. There was something about you that had always been a little bit lacking, something ascetic and cold natured about your personality at times. Since you were a child, trying to appease an unappeasable father, to emulate a singular mother. Always impossible, always falling just short of utter failure. Not so terrible that you were outwardly obvious in your mediocrity, but never everything you could be. Painfully, succinctly average. Sam had come to realize this quickly. Perhaps, unaware prior to tying himself to you because the only thing you’d ever been not average at, was being a little bit of a liar, of being placatingly complacent when the moment necessitated, manipulative in a way that you found protecting. But you see, that’s what happened when you had a cruel father who always needed appeasing, something Sam, in his abject fatherlessness, couldn't understand. Funny, you’d said that to him once, near the end, called him abjectly fatherless, his weakness a consequence of his lack of a paternal role model, and oh, how he’d hated that. Endings could bring out such cruelty in people, you’d found.

But the manipulation of a moment had become, in some ways, your only talent. The art of superficial gratification at a moment's notice as a way to keep the people around you falsely happy and calm. Like all small and frightened creatures, you’d learned your strengths well, but as all truths do, yours had eventually surfaced. The fact that you weren’t really so appeasing in the ways he desired, not so nice, not so perfect, not so subservient. That the persona was all just a way to keep him happy as a means of getting someone to love you, to stay because you didn’t know how else to be.

Your mother always said you could’ve been nicer to him. She was a kind, soft, patient thing. Quiet and easy and always, always, above everything else, understanding. It was the worst thing about her. A detriment, a weakness, and she resented you for your resentment, for seeing her as such, but you could never help it. Always asking you why you couldn’t just be a nice girl, a good girl.

You didn’t think you had not been nice, not been good. You had only been yourself.

Your father had always hated that about you, you being yourself. The man you’d chosen to marry didn’t seem to like it very much either. And she’d tried to instill her better qualities in you, your mother, so you weren’t all bad all the time. There could be a brightness and a lightness and a sweetness to you sometimes, it’s true. You weren’t always all bad. But there was – is still – also a bitterness and a resentment and an anger, a screaming that you could not quell no matter how hard you tried. And so you’d attepted to give him everything you could, your husband, everything you had at your disposal in all ways, to do and be all he could have ever asked of you during those two small years of marriage. Because truly, they had felt so very small, made you even smaller.

Everything except for sex. You’d never been able to give him that the way he’d wanted.

At first, it had been normal, sweet, soft missionary in the darkness, tepid insinuations of orgasms, always hushed, always exactly how he wanted it. But eventually, when the other parts of you began to fail, he got mean and callous and casually cruel. And as you pulled away physically, he called you frigid, a prude, boring, cold, bad in bed, didn't know how to make a man hard. And it had made you so agonizingly insecure, already a sensitive and anxious thing when it came to your physical form, he’d beaten you down, embarrassed you, belittled you.

With time, you’d realized the truth of it which had been nothing more than that you’d never really wanted him. He had never made you desperate, he had never made you wet. It was his character, his attitude, yes, but it was also him. He just wasn’t it for you, and it wasnt that you were a prude or frigid at all, only that you needed patience and understanding and care, gentleness. Things he possessed none of.

You just needed a little time to warm up and someone who wanted to give you that time.

The reality that your life had not been full of varied and foolish adventures, and that time had seemed to simply slip away like an echo in the brain from one moment to the next was duly painful. A handful of months of wan and false lust, two years of cold, bitter marriage, and now, six months of barren aloneness. Too many mistakes had been made, too many regrets, three big ones that could be held like stones scorched to burn by the sun in the palm of your hand so that even if you let them go eventually, their imprint would still be scarred into your flesh afterwards forever.

So, perhaps the divorce had been painful in the moment. Or not perhaps, there was nothing uncertain about it, you’d fought tooth and nail to make it work, to keep him with you. Prostrated and humiliated and debased yourself. But with time, it became obvious that it was a fantasy you decided you should finally cast aside, as all children do childish things at a certain age. And then, it had been the easiest thing in the world. After all, and let’s be honest now for a moment, the reckoning had come in the shape of his father. That is, at the end of it, the reason you’re really here.

Sat now, before the open cabinet below your kitchen sink, leaky pipe drip, drip, dripping monotonously in front of your glazed over eyes, you think of him. He’s a large man, intimidating and dark and stoic. Taller and broader than his son. Lush, mahogany curls streaked with silver that speak of age and experience like the smile lines around his eyes. Deeply grooved when he laughs that beautiful laugh of his. He looks exactly like the opposite of whatever his son is, like he’d have the ability to make the opposite of you, to pull out of you whatever the antithesis is of what his son was able to. It had been immediate, the nature of your thoughts towards him. The desire, the desire, the desire, you had wanted like you’d never wanted before — like an illness, like dying.

Your marriage had been circling the drain, and then you’d met him, and it should have been innocuous. He’d been kind and polite and welcoming, but also, aloof. Holding himself at a distance, something afraid that he carried within himself, like he didn't want to hope, like he was just a little bit scared of what it meant now to have a son, something to lose. You knew a little bit about that, the worst part of it all is never the cruelty, it’s the hopelessness. Everything had become so much worse after meeting him. An unbearable sort of awareness of something that your listless, frigid self recognized as man, man, man, something like hunger. Something slanted about the desire, wrong, sure, for he was your husband's father, and yet, you wanted him. You wanted to know what he smelled and tasted like, and what the weight of his cock on your tongue would feel like. If it was bigger than his sons, you were almost positive of that, if it would stretch the corners of your mouth to near splitting, the hinges of your jaw to aching.

You’d met your husband's father, and had realized, painfully, with uncompromising clarity, all that your husband could be, all that he was not, all that he would never be. There was no comparison between the boy and the man, and it made you hurt.

Your eyes flit back to the screen of your open laptop and the instructional video there, popping another fuzzy peach gummy onto the flat of your tongue, mouth full of sucking sugar. You’re going to fix this sink if it’s the last thing you do, and you’re not going to think about him again. But tomorrow, you’ll start not thinking about him tomorrow. The talent of a liar never really wanes.

The apartment is quiet, nothing but the cheerful crackling of your sweet pumpkin candle and the mocking splish splash of the drain pipe. You had, in recent weeks, come to think of your abandonment as something of an accomplishment. Perhaps, your loneliness is a good thing, you’ll tell yourself as a comfort, a sort of friend; you can’t be used against yourself again in this solitude, and oh, how you’d been used. That anemia in your character, the ascetic thread of your personality had been weaponized and wielded against you until you couldn’t tell up from down and left from right. You were certain there’d been cheating, even if you’d never had any proof to confirm it, merely grateful you’d never gotten sick as way of evidence. But you knew. And it could've been so much worse for you, of course, of course it could have. But he’d left your mind so off kilter, broken and confused and not yourself. Utterly damaged in a way that was humiliating and devastating when you thought of the way you’d been, such a little person. So often, not a woman, just a little girl.

And then his father. Joel. Seeing him today – you had never felt the way you should have felt towards him. Like your eyes were open, awake for the first time in your entire life. A man like that – he was changing. And you wanted, needed very much to be changed. Seeing him today, being presented with that reminder of what he was, how he made you feel, how he’d always made you feel. There’s something ghoulish about you concerning him – about this desire. That ascetic or anemic or under-grown, illformed thing about you, exterminated in the thrum of how alive he is. How unlike his son. You’d never known what it specifically was, never been able to categorize it, and then there had been that moment, brought so low, six feet beneath the ground sort of debased, and he’d been there and you had been – unburdened from the weight of his own son, by him, and you’re not even sure he knew the extent of it. The power he’d wielded over you in that moment in the dark. And you can’t say it out loud, what it is you’d want from him, you can’t even say out loud what it is about him that changes you as it does – not a woman, just a little girl – but you think that if you could just see him, then you’d know, or maybe you could be brave. You don’t know what it is, but you’d know it then, with him in front of you, you’d have the answer to this question that’s plagued you for so long – how to be yourself in a way that is good.

You’re pushing yourself to your feet, fueled by the thought, fingers gripped over the ledge of the counter to pull yourself up, sink forgotten, stumbling to your front door, shoving your feet into your shoes and fumbling for your keys. How to be yourself in a way that is good.

When you were seventeen, your father had been at his angriest. Angry in that way that all angry father’s are. Loud and brutish – an anger that is cowing, a sign of true weakness. Brute force in the shape of the man who gave you life. When you think of it now, even as a grown woman, you still feel that phantom limb of fear, and you know that it isn’t normal for a grown woman to be afraid of her father, and yet you are. And then to think that you’d gone from your parents home directly to the bed of the same sort of man, one even crueler, if possible. You’re forced to laugh your singular terrible, self deprecating laugh at the irony of it – even worse, if possible. For what’s worse than a person who constantly needs to be soothed into kindness and patience and calm?

Once, in that terrible seventeenth year, funny and strange and unknowingly perfect, you’d been gifted the Farmer’s Almanac by your elderly neighbor. She’d said that she’d read it since she was a girl, liked the peace in knowing that the year had been predicted by experts and put down on paper. It made life seem more secure, more in control in a small way. You’d needed that during that turbulent time, locked in your teenage bedroom, lulled to sleep by the sound of your father’s anger and the year’s long-range weather predictions before your blurry eyes. It was so comforting to be able to read the future in text, catastrophe or sunshine, at least it was there. You still read it to this day. And there’s no congruity to the thought now, as you crawl into your car, a ghoul in the night, banging your knee on the hastily opened car door, sprouting gooseflesh in the cold; this desire, desire, desire that is the worst thing you’ve ever felt in your whole life, and yet, you can’t bring yourself to stop because there is something about control in this moment also. Control like knowing what the future will be like on paper, control like a man who is entirely grown into himself, who knows who he is and who he is not and is not uncertain, who will not yell, who will not hurt you. He has this – your husband’s father – you know he does. There is something about control, there is something about knowing how a thing will be, there is something about being yourself in a way that is good.

You’d picked up the wrong wine on your way here. Rushing, trying to fix your makeup in the car, you’d gotten confused, chosen the one he didn’t want instead of the one he did. And it was nothing, or an accident, surely nothing to incite his ire, but he’s so fucking angry hovering in front of you. He looks at you, now sometimes, like he hates you, like you’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. He said you’d humiliated him in front of his father. That he was going to think he didn’t have good taste, couldn’t afford a decent bottle of wine. And you don’t know Joel very well, but he doesn’t seem like the type of man to care about such things. Calling you an idiot in that poisoned shrill tone he takes on when he’s delivering a set down, and you’re trying to tell him to please, please keep your voice down, Sam, your father is going to hear you. You’d heard someone say once that a truly powerful man never feels the need to raise his voice, it simply isn’t necessary for him, and you’re reminded, terribly, of your father, with the sight of your shrill and seething husband in front of you. And then a low toned that’s enough, son from the mouth of the kitchen, and it’s so much worse, entirely catastrophic in a way, and you’re rushing away so humiliated, face on fire, tear caught over the trough of your lower lid, trying the doors in the hallway for the nearest restroom. You hear the murmur of voices, one struggling to maintain composure, the other, cool and steady, then the slam of the front door, and finally, the silent din of his house settling around the two of you as you find a restroom to hide in. Your heart beats so fast it makes you nauseous, knees strangely aching, listening to the heavy steps of Joel’s boots, as if he’s trying to warn you with those measured, weighted thuds that he’s coming, coming, coming for you. Turning to face the far corner of the restroom, you press your palm over your mouth, face slippery and burning and so stupid, the soft swoosh of the opening door, a paused breath as he takes in your form huddled into the wallpaper, and then the muted snick of the door closing behind him, shutting the two of you away together.

Part II

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

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#pink fic #Joel Miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #Joel Miller smut #joel miller imagine #the last of us au

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theminecraftbee · 5 months

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Here is how to slowly, completely, and irrevocably fall into having someone know your soul as well as you do theirs:

First, be enemies, but of circumstance. Neither of you were really on opposite sides so much as connected to them. You think he loved them, though, that side that was only your enemy by virtue of not being your ally. He loved them, even if he didn't spend as much time with them. You mock him for this. For calling their leader 'king'. (Later, you'll hold onto mockery like it's all you have. You know it's not a game and you know he was really king, but without your ability to make fun of what's happening, you won't be much at all.)

You have a best friend then. This, too, is almost an accident, although to explain all the ways it's also on purpose will take longer than you have to explain. He's wonderful, and loyal, and going to die. So you die fast and young first, before him. You die in front of your friend. You die in front of him.

You don't regret it, the dying young, because it means you die before anyone else can die for you.

Second, watch your best friend fall in love with him, although that phrase feels both too pedestrian and too much like it's overstating the thing that really happens. You have your own drama for too long to really understand how it happens, of course. You're too busy facing a betrayal that will scrape the inside of your soul forever. (To tell the truth, you've already forgiven him for it, but there's something easy about being each other's enemies, so you keep going, orbiting around each other in betrayal betrayal betrayal. But that's someone else who knows your soul, another story.)

Then your best friend dies, as does nearly everyone else. You sit around a campfire with him. You tell him that your best friend trusts him; you'll trust him too. He stands by your side near the end, the two of you running together, another man's memories on your lips.

You're not sure what you regret, then, but you know there's something that won't undo that's a part of you now.

Third, learn the value of choices, as the universe tries its best to take yours from you. In this one, the people you're by the side of is at once familiar and strange. The finalists who'd protected you last time are now an ugly mix of your chosen soulmate and your enemy by making that choice; you attempt to hold on to your ability to choose even as blood makes it clear you can't. (The universe tried to pick someone who would fit you well, you realize later. More people who know your soul that this story isn't actually about. You care for him too, is the thing; you care for choosing more.)

You don't see him much, this time. You respect each other, though. It's hard not to respect each other after everything that's happened. Still, you don't see him, and he doesn't see you. Instead, you see the end of the game. You nearly hold it in your fingers.

You regret. You regret deeply. You are so tired of watching people die, you think, and you regret more than anything else that you couldn't stop it.

Fourth, become enemies, but this time intentionally. Enemies, maybe, is a strong word; you're assigned co-parents, except bad, divorced ones. There's something hysterical about the whole thing, in both the comedic sense of the word and in the original, more concerning sense, especially given the way you all have thought about your best friend-now-son in the past. (Family ties are a thing you'll come to value; it's just that what the names are don't count, really, not when you do this again and again and again. Plus, it's nice to be able to have an excuse to yell.)

It's almost fun again. Maybe it's almost fun. You trade barbs with each other, and try to kill each other, and this time the consequences are light enough that you try to help each other, too. You see each other a lot. You're enemies, of course, but you see each other a lot, as you are: scared, and tired, and not as frightening as you appear, and happy, despite it all.

You don't regret much. You die fast and young, alongside your allies. You see his face before you do though, and you think he's the one with regrets.

Fifth, trip over him as you run across the first session of a new game. You don't know yet what this one will be, if it will be betrayals, or more stolen choices, or family, or fun, or anything else, but you look him in the eyes and make a choice. You will be friends this time instead of enemies. And it's nice. He and you fit together oddly now, but well, despite the oddities. You've had time to learn to, from a distance, and then closer and closer. (People seem baffled you're friends now. You wish you could explain that that's how these stories go sometimes.)

You're pretty certain he'll leave you when the time comes. He says he's a runner, and not a protector, and yet, when the time comes to betray you, you both know he won't hurt you, and you're both surprised anyway.

"You might regret this," you tell him quietly. You both have scars.

"You might regret this," he agrees. But you also both have choices.

"Okay," you say. "Have you ever fallen in love?"

"Cleo," he says, brushing your hair aside, and he doesn't answer.

"I don't think I have," you say honestly. "I think it's something else. Have you ever accidentally given someone a piece of your soul?"

"All the time," he says, and that's that.

The end is coming soon. You'll find out if you regret it.

#secret life smp #secret life spoilers #zombiecleo #ethoslab #a bee fic #trafficshipping #<- YEAH OKAY THIS IS A LITTLE MORE BLATANT THAN I NORMALLY AM.#you can read this platonically if you WANT but. it's. yeah it needs the tag.#anyway etho and cleo are soulmates but they're soulmates who very slowly and almost accidentally slid into being it #who built their way up to soulmates over time #do you understand me.#...also it DOES strike me the irony of tagging shipping on the fic where the lead SPECIFICALLY SAYS she hasn't fallen in love but #YOU KNOW. ITS THE VIBES.

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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months

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so sorry for this (very) specific request hope it's not ocish

anyways alastor x wife reader who's a virologist / kinda a mad scientist??(girl just wants to start a apocalypse without anyone to bother her)

Like they got married for mutual benefits (whatever benefits he would gain and her having access to money for her wildest dreams) when they were humans (whether he actually loves her or not is up to you lmao)

They both die (I assume that she would die around when he died from her own negligence caused by her 'freedom' to do her work more often without actually worrying about him finding out) and she avoids him like the plague (not that hard to realize this so called radio demon is your 'husband' when you find his secret stash of 'local cuisine' in the fridge)

Then he goes missing and she finally kinda goes out of makeshift hiding, just chilling doing her evil deeds before finding about the Hazbin Hotel from some gossip

Deciding that, while redemption is most likely not gonna happen mostly for the fact she does not care, she joins Charlie's little program. For her own little project (just wants to have a angel test subject, gotta see if they can be a good carrier for her little virus)

The reader doesn't know that Alastor's back (you think she's gonna use vox tech? Or listen to the radio? Girl uses a non vox tech phone and maybe a computer and does her work) so she goes and knocks on the door to the hotel

Thinking that this shit is gonna be easy, after all her husband is gone so she won't be bothered by him. She can focus on her beautiful creations and maybe destory hell and heaven with a apocalypse for some laughs. While also getting access to heaven through Charlie somehow (maybe even Lucifer, girl doesn't know nor care)

Anyways you can just IMAGINE her surprise that right after Charlie greets her (Vaggie ofc suspicious af cause she knows damn well no sinner wants to be redeemed for the most part) then here comes the strawberry pimp coming to say hello

Would he recognize his lovely wife? Maybe

Ofc reader had a plan, and by plan I mean she just says they were married and now acts like their divorced (death do us part and we fuckin dead)

(Just for example, do what you want <3)

Anyways I'm sorry again (can you tell that I've been watching a lot of mlp infection aus :') )

A/N bestie,, i love an overly detailed request. no apologies. i hope i did it justice <3 <3 I have literally been obsessing over the whole 'we're dead. we've been parted.' reader idea. It's so fun. Also I am very sorry it took me so long to get to this. Also, I am not a woman nor am I in STEM (I'm an enby in history) so apologies if science stuff in this is bad. I'm basing the character off of Entrapta (my love) from Nate Stevenson's She-Ra remake.

Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Gore. Murder. Bodies. Animal cruelty (not detailed at all just like test subjects and burning ants as a kid). Viruses/plague talk. Just capital d Death all around in this one folks. Suicide and starvation briefly mentioned.

Word Count: 2,584

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Y/n hadn't been sad when Alastor died. It didn't really even register on her radar that he was gone until the police showed up at her door. Their marriage was more of an agreement than anything else, a division of labor. Y/n was a talented virologist who came from a rather wealthy family. He got access to her money, using it to start his own radio studio, and Y/n? Well Y/n got a clean up crew.

She had always been fascinated by death. It was a morbid curiosity that had followed her since childhood. The typical 'burning ants with a magnifying glass to mass murderer' pipeline only, murder was not exactly her objective. Since learning of the Black Death in school, she had been fascinated by biological warfare and weaponry. The stories of soldiers throwing infected bodies over the walls of city's to break down their defenses? It was magnificent, masterful, absolutely awe inspiring. Living through the Spanish Flu epidemic in 1918, watching how it tore through her city of New Orleans, only furthered her determination.

As soon as she had had the knowledge base to do so, she began working on bio-weapons on her own. She wanted to create a disease, to devastate the world. She wanted to watch the things around her crumble into ruin and know it was by her hand.

She'd found out about Alastor's hobby by accident. They were friends, of a sort, in that Y/n would show up randomly where ever he was and quiz him about radio waves. He worked at a radio station and she knew that. She had followed him, tracked him down. There was no reasoning behind it save he was the first person she'd really found out about that was involved in the business in New Orleans. She would pick his mind about getting the word out about things, marketing, advertising. She was prepping for the main event, for the day she finally created her magnum opus.

One day, when she had shown up unannounced at his door and broken in when he didn't respond to her knocking, Y/n had discovered him dismembering one of his victims. Alastor had stared at her, wide eyed in shock, fear and adrenaline mixing into an intoxicating combination in his veins. Y/n had just smiled.

She had been wondering about human experimentation for a while now. Animals were easy to cover up, easy to bury in the back yard but people? It had always been too risky, up until now anyways.

So it went like this: Y/n funded Alastor's dreams and he hid the side effects of hers. When he died, Y/n didn't really feel anything too strongly about it at all. Yes, it made life harder in that if she wanted to keep using human guinea pigs she'd have to figure out a way to dispose of them on her own but it also made it easier. Alastor had always been so obsessed with image, dragging her to office parties and forcing her to sit down to meals with him. Now that he was gone, she could work on her projects in peace once again. The body thing was something she would figure out along the way. She was smart and she wasn't going to let something like that stop her, not when she was this close to cracking it.

As it turns out, Alastor had been more of a help than Y/n believed. So used to his nattering and persistence, she had stopped eating. It wasn't long before she joined her husband in death. The papers of course had a field day with it. Heiress and Virologist Y/n L/n Withers Away Due to Heartbreak. Y/n L/n Starved Herself to Death and Joins her Murderer of a Husband. Virologist Commits Suicide After Revelation of Dead Husband's Criminal Deeds.

When Y/n had woken up in Hell, her whole world had been turned upside down. If there was life after death, what was the point of killing everyone on earth? She was back at square one.

Rumors were already buzzing through the streets of Hell about some new overlord, some Radio Demon, who had a strikingly similar MO to her husband. Not wanting any distractions this time around, Y/n secluded herself in the outskirts of the pride ring to reformulate her plans.

For decades she worked, trying to create a poison to wipe out the dual planes of the underworld. Work was easier here. No one questioned why she bought the things she bought, no one got upset when people went missing. Hell, no one even blinked twice if they saw her burying a body. It was a veritable paradise for Y/n.

Eventually, news reached her of the Radio Demon's disappearance. Y/n had never been the biggest fan of technology that wasn't involved in her work. In the world of the living, she had barley read the papers. All the machines in her laboratory were ones she had built herself through trial and error. But still, somehow, the news reached her and she felt elated. The last thing weighing her down, the last road block had officially been lifted.

Within seven years, she had perfected the disease. Having run tests on lower rings of Hell, she prided herself on her ability to make it so infections, so deadly. The survival was on par with that of unvaccinated human's infected by rabies. But her plan wasn't complete, no. Taking out everyone in Hell wasn't good enough, she had to figure out how to get it into Heaven as well.

That was when the perfect opportunity fell in her lap. Y/n nearly cried when she caught sight of the interview through the window of a shop selling Vox branded TVs. Charlie Morningstar, Lucifer's little brat, was creating a hotel for sinners, where they could be rehabilitated and sent to Heaven. It was perfect, almost too perfect. Y/n didn't question it, her own excitement blinding her. She barley even took the time to come up with a plan that consisted of more than get into the hotel and get her hands on an angel. She figured that was something that could be dealt with later on.

After a few days of research and snooping, she finally made her move. Having packed her bags and woven her way through the streets of Pentagram City, she found herself before the brightly lit marquee of the Hazbin Hotel. Placing her bag on the ground beside her, the test tubes and various paraphernalia inside clinked gently against one another. Raising her hand, she knocked on the door.

It was Charlie herself who answered, with wide eyes and an earnest smile. A smaller moth demon beside her crossed her arms, eyeing Y/n with doubt. It barley registered with the excitable demon, she was used to the strange looks. The new form Hell had granted her with when she died was odd, after all. She was still the same height, still held a roughly human shape, but her hair had become its own beast. It moved like secondary limbs, falling nearly to the floor from the pigtails she had tied it up into. It shot up into the air around her in joy at the sight of yet another open door in her path, this one literal rather than figurative.

"Hello!" Charlie exclaimed, "Are you here to check in?"

"Yes, check in." Y/n nodded, using her hair to pick her bag back up.

She took a step forward, trying to enter the hotel, but found her path blocked by the smaller grey demon. Her arms were uncrossed now, one of them pointing a spear right at Y/n's neck. Y/n didn't flinch, she simply looked down at it in curiosity, reaching a finger up to touch the end.

"Ow." she said flatly as the spear's tip pressed into the pad of her finger.

Raising it to her eyes, she rubbed the droplet of blood that had pooled on her pointer finger with her thumb before turning back to the spear.

"Is this..." Y/n leaned forward, grabbing the spear's shaft.

"Hey!" Vaggie yelled threateningly as Y/n crouched down, examining the weapon carefully.

"Oh my stars, this is an angelic blade, isn't it?" she exclaimed, her eyes still fixed on the spear.

"Uh..."

Vaggie was more confused now than anything and she took the slightest step away from the excited demon. Y/n followed her and soon, they were in the entry way to the hotel. Charlie watched the scene play out with mild amusement, finding her girlfriends bewildered state rather charming. She let the door fall shut.

"It is, isn't it?" Y/n asked again, "But how did you get it? Did you make it? What do you do with it? Is it more effective than normal weapons? Why a spear? I-"

"What's this, we have a new guest?" a crackling voice cut Y/n off.

"Uh, yes!" Charlie stepped in, turning to face the newcomer.

Y/n, still preoccupied with the spear, was now engaged in trying to get Vaggie to let her hold it.

"I think..." Charlie doubtfully added, her brow furrowing at the site.

"Well well well, a little devil." Alastor hummed, turning to watch the show as well, "Honestly, reminds me of someone I knew back when I was alive and kicking. Ah well, what's her name?"

"I don't... actually know that yet." Charlie admitted, fiddling with her hands a bit as she spoke, "But she seems really enthusiastic about being here!"

"It seems she more interested in that spear of Vaggie's than the idea of redemption." Alastor noted in response.

"Are either of you going to help me or are you just gonna sit and watch?" Vaggie exclaimed, trying her best to pry the spear out of Y/n's grip.

Alastor sighed and with a twirl of his microphone, a shadow arose, pulling Y/n off Vaggie. There was a split second where the smile on the girl's face fell. It quickly returned as she caught sight of what exactly had interrupted her escapades. Placing her bag on the floor with her hair, she wormed around in the shadow's arms, turning to face it. Tentatively, she poked it.

"Would you stop that?" Alastor asked, his voice thick with irritation.

Y/n poked the shadow again.

"What is this? How are you doing this?"

When no response came from the demon in question, she at last turned to face him.

"Oh."

She stilled in her movements and Alastor allowed the shadow to disappear.

"No reason to be scared." Charlie quickly stepped in, "I know Alastor here has a bit of a... reputation, but he is actually helping us at the hotel. He's really a great once you get to know him."

Alastor's smile widened as he bowed his head slightly in recognition of the praise.

"If you're going to be staying her-"

"You can't seriously be thinking of letting her stay here, Charlie." Vaggie cut in, "She's been here what, five minutes? And all thats come of it is chaos."

"Vaggie, come on, don't be like that." Charlie turned to her girlfriend, "Everyone deserves a second chance, that's the whole reason we built this place."

"But does she even want to be redeemed? I mean, what if she's... I don't know, trying to take us down from the inside out? What if she's a journalist or some shit trying to write us bad reviews?"

"You flatter me." Y/n smiled and Vaggie scoffed.

"See?"

"Isn't that all the more reason to let her in? Vaggie, if she is undercover as a journalist or something, we just have to prove to her how amazing what we're doing here is."

"I don't know... I've never seen her before, what if she's another one Vox sent?"

Y/n shook her head, sticking her tongue out slightly in disgust at this notion and Alastor chuckled. There really was something so familiar about this demon and her antics. Even if she was a tad irritating, it was a comfortable familiarity.

"Then we will figure it out, same way we did with Sir. Pentious. Okay?"

"Fine." Vaggie relented at last with a sigh.

Smiling brightly, Charlie turned back to Y/n.

"So, hi. I'm Charlie, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! What's your name?"

Y/n's eyes flicked back and forth between Alastor and Charlie for a moment before settling on Charlie.

"Y/n L/n."

Alastor let out a little laugh of disbelief, a sound he had meant to keep in. He couldn't help it. Of course this little mess of a demon was his favorite crazy wife. Alastor had looked for Y/n on occasion, always keeping an eye on news involving anything scientific but, he had never found a trace. Not that he'd admit it but, in their time together, he had grown rather fond of the girl. Not love, never love, but a sort of familial feel. Everyone turned to face him.

"Are you alright, Alastor?" Charlie asked, walking over to him and placing a hand on his arm which he quickly brushed off.

"Yeah, do you know her or something?" Vaggie added, "Is she dangerous?"

"No..." he paused, his brow slightly furrowed, "She's my wife."

The room fell silent.

"You... you didn't recognize your own wife?" Vaggie asked in disbeleif.

"Ex-wife." Y/n corrected with a little sigh.

This was all becoming so tedious. She hadn't come here to sit and talk with people. While the spear and the shadow had been fun, they had both run their courses and she just wanted to get to work.

"I..." Alastor turned back to Y/n, "Ex-wife?"

Y/n shrugged.

"So you didn't recognize your wife and you didn't know you were divorced?" Vaggie asked, rubbing her temples, "Jesus fuck, man."

"I..." Alastor cleared his throat, "We were married when we were alive. I didn't even know she was dead yet."

"Yeah." Y/n shrugged, "Turns out all your nattering was what was keeping me alive. I forgot to eat, starved to death."

Alastor's eyes softened slightly for a moment at the notion. She had needed his care so badly that she had died with out it. It felt good, in a strange way. Satisfying. They darkened again as he recalled her earlier statement.

"Ex-wife?" he asked again, taking a step towards Y/n.

She looked up at him, her expression blank.

"Yeah?"

"When did we get a divorce!" Alastor exclaimed once he realized she would say nothing else on the matter without his prompting.

"Oh! We didn't." Y/n nodded, smiling slightly, "Now, can I go to my room?"

"No, Y/n. Why are you calling yourself my ex-wife? We are still married."

Y/n looked around at Charlie and Vaggie, seeing if they were going to back up her claim. Sighing, she turned back to Alastor.

"Do I really have to lay it out for you?" she paused and Alastor just stared at her, eyebrows raised, "Jesus. Uh, Al, we died."

"Yes...?"

"Till death do us part? That was the agreement."

"I... Well..." he was at a complete and total loss for how to respond.

She wasn't wrong, he just didn't like her answer very much.

"So... the agreement is done... yeah?"

"I mean," Alastor shook his head slightly, "I guess?"

"Great! Can someone please show me to my room now."

---

Next Part -> Till Death Do Us Part pt. 2

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gurugirl · 3 months

Text

Best Valentine's Day | bfd!harry

Summary: It's Valentine's Day and Harry's got something special planned.

A/N: They're back! Happy 💘Valentine's💘 Day my loves!

Word Count: 4.2k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, fluffy, the briefest tiniest bit of angst

Best Friend's Dad!Harry masterlist

Harry remembers well, that day. The day he decided to go to your apartment and finally give in to the tension that had been between you two. He didn’t know why. He wasn’t sure if he would really go through with it. He thought maybe he’d see you in your own space with your big smiling eyes and he’d snap out of it. He hoped he’d snapped out of it. He hoped he’d stop thinking about you the way he was.

But no. That’s not true. He had to face the truth. He did want something to happen. He instigated. He fantasized and he made it a point to have a reason to come see you. And yes, he did want to make sure you were okay after breaking up with your boyfriend, but it was all born of selfish things. He wanted you. Even if it was just a dirty secret, there was something about testing the waters with you that he always looked forward to.

And once he got to know you as more than just his daughter’s friend he didn’t want it to end. Once he got to have you in bed and wake up lazy in the morning to you wanting more of him and how easy it was to not get caught. Then secret texts, long conversations, quick visits to see your face in the morning over a cup of coffee before he had to be at work… then he found he wanted even more. He didn’t just want to pop in and get his dick wet and leave. He wanted to talk to you and hold you and laugh. He liked the way you looked at him and the way you said his name and how you’d pout when he had to leave.

“What are you thinking about?” You reached across the table to poke at his cheek. He seemed pensive. And lately, that was the norm. You were both stressed. The divorce was stressful for you both.

Harry had to prove that he hadn’t spent all that much money on you. His ex was going after him for cheating and had accused him of spending his money on you when it should have gone to the household or their combined savings. But the truth was he really hadn’t spent that much money on you during the course of your relationship.

It was flowers and some jewelry and groceries and small things. Not rent and car payments like she was trying to prove. Which didn’t matter in the end. Harry’s attorney told him that he’d be paying her alimony which would cover her insurance and current lifestyle, and that would be more than enough. She’d be getting the house, her car, and all of her own retirement. Harry also agreed to give her half of their savings but he was keeping his brokerage which she never contributed to. She wasn’t getting everything she wanted but she sure was trying to make it hard.

“Thinking about how we met and how I went to see you at your apartment that day. Just reminiscing. Crazy how we got here. After everything. Fell in love with you so fast.”

You smiled, “It is crazy. Sometimes it doesn’t feel real.”

Harry took your hand and kissed your palm, “Still like a dream.”

You’d been having lots of conversations about the past and future lately. Perhaps it was because his divorce was nearly finalized. Or maybe it was all the talk of getting you pregnant. But there was also the discussion of moving out of your apartment.

The lease on your apartment was coming up. Harry wanted to move you both out of your little place and find something with more space. You would go wherever he went without question but you did warn him you were still jobless. Your contribution would be minimal but he only assured you that he was going to take care of you and he didn’t want your money.

Once a week for the past few weeks you both had been looking at potential new places. Apartments and houses alike. And Wednesday after he got off work you two were on your way to look at a new one.

“Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day,” you suddenly remembered as you spoke from the passenger side of Harry’s car as he drove you to look at a place that was having an open house.

“I know,” he reached across to put his hand on your thigh, “Did you forget?”

You laughed, “I totally did. I think with everything going on it just didn’t cross my mind. But I saw that sign outside of Scasi’s restaurant about their Valentine’s Day special just now.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t plan anything romantic for us?” Harry teased.

“I did not. What would you like Mr. Styles? A night out on the town? Some flowers? Cologne maybe?” You laughed when he squeezed at your thigh.

“Why not all of it?”

You looked toward his side profile and laid your palm over his hand, “I’ll give you all of that if you want.”

Harry glanced at you with his dimpled grin, “Baby, I know you would. But I’ve already got something planned for us. Think you’ll like it.”

You adjusted yourself in your seat and angled your body toward his, “Oh yeah? What have you got planned then?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

The three-bedroom house at the edge of town was adorable. But it wasn’t a rental. Which had you a little surprised. The backyard was plenty big for landscaping (which it was in desperate need of), the master bedroom faced the big ugly backyard but the ensuite bathroom was to die for. All upgraded finishes with a soaker tub and a steam shower.

The kitchen, however, was your favorite. The stove was one of those fancy chef’s stoves with the red knobs. The refrigerator was built into shelving and at first glance looked like a tall cabinet.

“Harry this is a lot. Three bedrooms?” He had your hand in his as you both walked around the space.

“It’s a lot for us right now. But what if we have a baby one day? And that backyard? Ugly as sin right now but I love to garden and I know we could make that something really special. For us. For a family here if we wanted.”

He leaned down to kiss you, his nose knocking against yours playfully making you laugh.

“Maybe you’re right,” you rubbed your palm over his chest.

“I know I’m right.”

. . .

You were excited for whatever it was Harry had planned. You didn’t know why he didn’t just tell you but he seemed to always enjoy giving you surprises. He liked making you wait and anticipate what was to come. Sometimes even in bed.

He told you to wear something pretty so you picked out a nice dress and did all the things to pamper yourself that made you feel pretty before he got home from work.

Of course the minute you heard the key in the doorknob you rushed to the door to open it and greet him with a big hug.

He kissed your cheek as you took his coffee travel mug from his hand, “Sure is nice to have you open the door for me like this every time I get home from work. Got me spoiled.”

“Pretty sure you’re the one that’s got me spoiled,” you responded.

It was nice having Harry with you. Knowing you weren’t sharing him with anyone anymore. You knew it was bad to feel smug about such a thing but you kind of did. He picked you. Even if the circumstances were less than ideal, you were the one he chose.

“So, can you at least tell me if we’re gonna eat as part of these mysterious Valentine’s Day plans you’ve made?”

Harry began to unbutton his shirt with a grin on his face, “Why? You hungry honey?”

The way he said it was full of something devilish. Something cheeky. You rolled your eyes at him and laughed, “I kind of am.”

A mischievous smirk rose up on his lips as he lowered his hands to his belt, “I’ve got something to fill your tummy with. Little appetizer…”

You balked at him, “You’re like a teenager!”

He slid his belt from the loops on his pants and pulled your back into his chest, “Mmm… More like a man in love who knows how to feed his hungry baby.”

You laughed loudly and pushed your head back against his shoulder, “How is it you’re always thinking about sex?”

He rocked you back and forth and tucked his face into your neck, “It’s because it’s you. You’re so good to me all the time. So pretty. So smart. S’your fault I’m this way.”

You sighed as he kissed the side of your neck and then let you go, “We don’t have time for any hanky panky anyway,” he spoke as he finished undressing. “Gotta shower up and then get ready myself so I smell just as good as you. We’ll leave here in like thirty minutes.”

Harry put up with you trying to get him to tell you where he was taking you. You didn’t let up but Harry also didn’t give you any direct answers.

“Will there be dancing? Hot air balloons?”

He smiled as he continued looking at the road, “That sounds fun. We’ll see.”

You knew you weren’t going to break him down. When Harry set his mind to something he wasn’t going to budge.

So when he pulled into Club Stella and parked you finally knew what was in store for the night. Or at least you had a good idea. Club Stella was a posh place. It had a funky bar menu with a good selection of snacky bites, along with live bands or DJs, and a nice dance floor.

You had been there once before for a bachelorette party back when you and Fae were still close. It was one of those places where reservations were not super easy to get and it was paid entry.

You were led to a cozy little table not far from where the band was playing and handed special Valentine’s Day menus.

Harry scooted his chair close to yours and flipped the menu to look at the drinks, “Want to share a bottle of wine?”

You looked at the prices of the bottles and scoffed, “Harry every bottle is expensive.”

He laughed and drew his arm over the back of your chair, “Baby it’s Valentine’s Day. I’m gonna spoil you. Pick out what you want.”

When the waiter stopped at the table Harry pinched your arm the slightest when you started to say all you’d have was sparkling water.

“We’ll have a bottle of this,” he pointed at the menu and you rolled your eyes with a smile after the waiter left the table to get the wine.

The food menu was fun. You scanned the options just as the live band changed the song they were covering. The whole theme of the night was romance and the music was definitely part of that vibe.

When the server returned with the bottle of wine you were anticipating what you were going to order. But Harry pulled you to the dancefloor before you could mention what you wanted. You’d been ogling the lobster bites on the menu when he dragged you away He had his hands on your hips, holding you close and you laughed, “Harry I wanted to order! I’m hungry.”

He kissed your cheek, still moving you to the music, and then lowered his mouth to your ear, “Well I tried offering you an appetizer earlier but you turned it down.”

You slid your arms over his shoulders. Even though you were hungry, honestly having a dance with Harry to the song that was being played was certainly better.

He began to sing the lyrics as he swayed you gently, “I’d never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you,” his warm breath falling over your neck felt so sensual. There were others dancing as well so you didn’t feel as exposed. If only they knew the kind of relationship you and Harry had. What had led to that very moment.

When you felt his lips brush over the skin at your neck you sighed as your bodies moved slowly together until the song was over.

Harry looked down at you as the song switched and took your hands in his, “We’ll come back and dance after we eat. Just wanted to start our night off with holding you and dancing with you in front of everyone.”

You understood him. It was taking some time to get used to being public. To flaunt your love. But the more you two went out in public and did things like this, the more you wanted it. The easier it became. It was exciting.

Harry was a romantic at heart. You knew this because you’d been on the receiving end of his gestures. Sometimes he could be cheesy but you loved it nonetheless. Your favorite, though, was how playful he was with you.

You and Harry enjoyed the wine and food and the atmosphere of Club Stella. The later it got, the more people began to dance.

“Come on, let’s go dance,” Harry had his hand at the back of your neck and he squeezed as he spoke, “This is a good song.” Your food was mostly eaten, the wine was just about gone and you were getting warmer and warmer the longer you sat next to Harry and listened to his deep voice in your ear, his hand closest to you on your thigh or the back of your neck nearly the whole time. The man knew what he was doing.

“Okay. Let’s go,” you grinned at him.

You found a good spot on the floor and the song was a little more swingy than the first song you danced to but still sexy. The live band was really good.

Harry’s hands were dangerously close to your ass as pulled your hips against his and looked down at you, “Best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.”

You smiled as you laid your palms over his chest and looked up at him, “Me too.”

One of his hands slid up your back to the nape of your neck as he ducked down to kiss you. And it was like just about every other time he kissed you; hot and needy. He was holding back because you two were in public but you were reminded of the time you had bathroom sex in that nice restaurant in Quebec.

You smoothed your hands along Harry’s shirt over his strong pecs and then fit a finger between the buttons to touch his skin as your mouth opened for him.

He moaned softly and then backed away from the kiss to grin down at you, “What did you do on your last Valentine’s Day?”

You thought back to the year prior, “I think… Oh yeah… Randy had to give me a raincheck. He was working. We never wound up doing anything because it was midweek.”

“Today is Thursday. I have to work tomorrow and I’m still doing something with you. Sounds like he was the biggest dud. Glad I talked you into getting rid of him.”

You laughed and moved your arms up and ran your fingers into the hair at the back of his head, “He was a big dud. But of course, no one can compare to you, can they?”

His smile widened as the hand near your bottom slowly dropped until his palm was pressing into your ass.

The next song slowed things down and he kept you pressed into his hips as you danced together.

Time seemed to slow down or speed up. Every time he kissed you and squeezed your bum you felt yourself melting a little more. But then he ran his lips up your neck and spoke into your ear, “I’m sorry honey. But I can’t keep my cock down,” and you felt him rut into you softly before he turned you to face away from him, your bottom pressed into his bulge.

You gasped with a smile as you turned your head and lifted an arm to hold onto the back of his neck as he swayed you to the beat softly, “Remember that time in Quebec?” You could hear the smile on his mouth as he spoke into your ear.

“I do. Was just thinking about that too. That was fun.”

“Mmm… Might need to find a spot to fuck you like that again.”

You laughed as Harry’s hand on your hip tightened and his other moved up your side to just under your breast. You could feel yourself beginning to grow wet in your panties as Harry’s dick plumped up and pressed into your bottom. You loved that he got so turned on by you.

Another sexy, slow song came on and Harry’s lips stayed on your neck, peppering wet kisses on your sensitive skin. No one else existed. It was just you and Harry.

“Fuck… Baby, I’m serious. I need to have you,” his deep voice whispered against your skin.

You turned in his arms and attempted to hide the hardon he was sporting under his pants, “Should we leave?”

Harry looked around the space, “Let’s go see if there’s a spot we can take care of this.”

You and Harry went back to the area near the stage and he pointed to where the bathrooms were and a short hallway as you grabbed your purse from the table.

“Harry? Harry Styles?” You heard a woman speak, from behind you.

Both you and Harry turned around to see a woman near his age looking between you with a slight frown.

Harry scratched the back of his neck, “Hi Roice.”

“Who is she?” The woman pointed at you and you looked up at Harry.

“Uh, well, this is my girlfriend, Y/n. I don’t know if you knew…”

The woman cut him off and looked at you as she stepped in closer, “You know he’s married right? With a daughter, about your age,” she ran her eyes down your frame and you felt very vulnerable under her scrutiny.

You opened your mouth to respond but Harry took your hand, “Roice, my wife and I are getting divorced. We’re done. This is my girlfriend.”

You zoned out slightly as Harry let go of your hand and put his arm over your shoulder to hold you close. The woman made a comment and gave you a look that you knew wasn’t complimentary of you before she walked off.

“You okay, Y/n?” Harry put his hands on your shoulders and ducked his face down to get in your line of sight.

Nodding you spoke, “Yeah. Just didn’t expect that.”

“Me neither. Let’s just get out of here, okay?”

The bill was already paid as you and Harry left Club Stella and got into his car.

He put his hand on your knee and drove in silence until he pulled into a small lot at a wooded park and turned off the engine.

You looked at him, puzzled, “What are we doing here?”

Harry adjusted his seat and moved it away from the steering wheel and pulled at your hand, “Come here, sweetheart. Sit in my lap.”

You climbed over the console after lifting your dress so you could spread your legs and settle over his thighs.

He put his hand on your hips, “I’m sorry that happened. Did that ruin your Valentine’s Day?”

You smiled as you shook your head, “No, of course not. It just shocked me is all.”

“Shocked me too. But you promise you’re okay?”

You pressed your hands on his shoulders and leaned yourself into his chest to kiss his mouth and began to unbutton his shirt buttons, “I’m fine, Harry.”

You could feel him swallow as his hands moved to push the fabric of your dress up before he brought his hands to the inside of your thighs. He moaned when his finger dragged over the fabric of your panties and he realized you were wet.

You laughed with a smile, “Still wet. Think you can get hard for me again, Harry?”

He laughed and licked into your mouth as he ran his thumb over the wet material at your crotch. It was funny because you both knew the answer to that question. Of course, he could get hard again.

And when you felt his cock plumping up under his pants you began to undo his belt and then his button in haste before pulling him out through the front slot of his boxer briefs, stroking his velvety cock as you kept your mouths moving together.

Harry pushed your panties to the side and lowered his seat for more space as you pushed yourself up and placed his tip at your slippery pussy. He held onto your hips to keep you steady as you placed your palms on the seat back and gently lowered over him.

“Fuck… you always hug my cock perfectly baby.”

You imagined that with his girth it would be hard not to hug his cock the way you did. He was so thick and long and he always stretched you apart when he was inside of you.

Slowly you glided up and down as you looked into his eyes, “God… It’s always so full. Makes me so wet just thinking about how big you are and how deep you get. I always need you, Harry.”

Harry moaned and pressed a hand to your low belly as you continued fucking yourself on him, “Yeah? Like how it feels when I fuck into your tummy? Stuff you full every night ‘cause you need it so bad don’t you, puppy?”

“Yes… God, I need you every day. More than anything I’ve ever needed. I love you so much.” You tilted your pelvis down and pressed your lips to his as you ground yourself over him and felt that pleasant ache when his thick crown nestled into your guts.

You could feel the fabric of his briefs over your clit as you rocked down over him. Harry’s soft moans against your lips sounded desperate and you knew that meant he was close already. You hadn’t had sex that morning like you do some days and you knew he must be aching to burst inside of you.

“Gonna give me your come?”

Harry’s mouth dropped open and he jabbed himself upward, his cock squelching through your wet pussy as he thrust into you, “Is that what you want?” Another thrust upward making you squeal quietly at the deep ache in your tummy, “Want my come, baby?”

“Yes… give it to me,” you moaned as you rolled your pelvis down again and felt how wet his underwear had gotten from your arousal.

“Need you to come with me, my love,” Harry’s words were panted as he gripped the meat of your ass and guided you up and down his cock.

You watched his face as you felt his length open you wide and glide in and out with the sound of wet gushes from your slippery pussy in the small space of the car.

Holding to the seat behind Harry’s head to keep yourself steady, you ran the fingers from your other hand over your clit as Harry kept you bouncing over him slowly.

Desperate moans and the slippery sounds of sex with the background of music on the radio were all you could hear as your legs began to shake.

The moment Harry could tell you were about to come, he began to fuck up into you harder, his hips thudding into you making your body bounce harder as you pressed your fingers and moved them over your swollen nub and cried out at his deep strokes.

“Oh my god! Fuck, Harry!”

He groaned when your pussy began to flutter around him and your cries turned to choked moans.

It was his favorite. Feeling your cunt walls squeeze and spasm around his throbbing, leaking cock. He gave you a few more harsh plunges until he pulled you down over him and grunted with his head thrown back into the seat, draining his cock inside of your guts.

Your head was spinning and your heart was pounding as you came down and heard him panting as he throbbed inside of you. You’d never get tired of watching him coming, of feeling the way his body shivered when he pumped into you.

He pulled you against his chest as he breathed hard and you could feel the way he was still twitching inside of you.

When you felt his lips at your neck and heavy breaths puffed against your skin you opened your eyes and turned to look at him with a smile.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Harry.”

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geekforhorror · 5 months

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pls pls plsssss i want older!anakin to fuck me where everyone could hear us so baaaaad!!! want obi wan to yell at us for being so reckless & disrespectful!! also daddy kink! imagine age gap!

pls write something about his i love your writing!!!!!!!!!

I PRACTICALLY MOANED AT THIS. ALSO I APPRECIATE THE FEEDBACK

shameless

pairing: older!anakin x fem!reader

warning(s): SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!anakin, sub!reader, established age gap (anakin is 35, reader is 20), anakin is a master in this (not readers master tho!), unprotected p in v sex, dirty talk, pet names, divorced au (sorry miss amidala!), etc.

————

You always had a thing for Skywalker.

You didn’t know what made him so alluring. Maybe it was his confidence, good looks, personality, or perhaps it was all three. You had developed a crush on him from the very moment you encountered him in the temple’s halls. From then on, you could barely keep your composure around him. It started off with blushing and now it had gotten to the point where you had to clench your thighs together whenever he spoke to you. You tried your best to shield your thoughts from the confident Jedi and you thought you succeeded in doing so.

Oh, how wrong you were.

See, unbeknownst to you, Anakin had picked up on your behavior and instantly wanted to know what it was that was making you that flustered. He already had a sneaking suspicion of what was going on. Luckily, he would have the opportunity to see if he was right or not. One night, he had been assigned to be your dueling partner since your master was out on a mission. You were nervous to say the least. How the fuck were you supposed to spend an entire hour with him when you could barely keep your composure around him for more than five minutes? All you knew was that you were screwed.

————

The time had finally come where you had to meet Skywalker in the dueling chambers. Here you were, outside of the very room where the man you had grown feelings for was, yet you were too nervous to actually enter the room. You didn’t know how to describe it. Being around him was so… intoxicating, but also nerve wracking. You knew better than to let these thoughts surface during your session with him, but it would be rather tricky when you had to duel at the same time. Besides, what would he think? He would probably report you to the council the first chance he got for inappropriate behavior on your behalf. That’s why this couldn’t come to light.

To prepare yourself, you took a deep breath in and collected yourself enough before finally entering the room. As soon as you entered the room, you were met with those mesmerizing blue eyes you loved so much. They had a way of making you gaze into them until you were in a dazed-like state. It was hard to look away, but you managed to do so, keeping in mind that you couldn’t be caught doing a thing like that.

“Hello Master Skywalker. It’s a pleasure to duel with you again,” you say too cheerfully. Fuck.

“The feeling is mutual,” he replies with a rather nonchalant tone to his voice. You didn’t know what it was about his voice that always had you dripping through your panties, but fuck. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded like pure velvet.

“Are you ready?” he asks you.

“Yes,” you said a little too quick.

“Alright then. Positions!”

You do as he says and take your normal stance, which you had learned from your master. Anakin takes his signature pose, the room now filled with silence that wasn’t there before. Suddenly, his lightsaber strikes in the air and gives you barely any time to react. However, you know better than to let his hasty movements derail yours. You decide to use your instincts to your advantage.

“I’m not gonna go easy on you,” he says with a cheshire smile.

“Good,” you confidently reply.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your rather fierce response. He always admired your boldness and confidence. It was what set you apart from all the other Jedi. However, you were also selfless and willing to sacrifice everything for the ones you loved. He saw parts of himself in you. That drive and desire.

He saw your response as an invitation to go harder on you as he swayed his body around while attempting to strike you with his wielded weapon. You blocked him with every breath you took and focused on finding his weakness. Fortunately for him, your focus on defeating him allowed him the perfect opportunity to lodge himself inside that pretty little brain of yours and see what you were hiding from him. After all, his mind reading abilities were way stronger than yours, so it was likely you wouldn’t even notice.

Suddenly, he was met with a vision. It was one of you: all alone in your quarters, wearing nothing but your lacy bra. He was met with the sight of your cunt, all covered in slick and creamy arousal. There you were, all sprawled out on the bed while plunging two of your fingers inside your needy pussy—imagining it was him stretching your tight hole until you were practically begging to cum. Just as he was about to strike, his ears were met with your needy moans.

“Fuck- Ana- Anakin,” you whined out, loud enough for bypassers in the hall to hear.

The vision disappeared just as fast as it was displayed and was replaced with another, only this one was more of a thought and more dirty than the last. This time, it was you thinking of his hands roaming your body and pounding his cock into you until you were a crying and moaning mess around him.

How could a girl like you have such nasty thoughts about her superior?

He felt himself grow hard in the confines of his pants and knew he had to get out before you noticed. When he came back, he was met with your leg swiftly coming up in the air in order to counter his previous actions. Despite being distracted for some time, he somehow overpowered the thoughts of you just enough to hit you right in the leg with his training saber, declaring victory.

“Well, well,” you heard him say.

“What is it?” you say, sounding intrigued but also confused.

“It seems like I beat you despite getting into that pretty little head of yours,” he finally admits.

“Wait what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me… I know every dirty little thought you have of me,” Anakin chuckles confidently. “It’s quite adorable, actually.

You felt a flush of embarrassment fill your cheeks as they were now a rosy shade of pink. “It’s not that hard to sense in you, angel,” he replies, reading your very thoughts. “I found them quite amusing. The way you want me to kiss all over your pretty little body, how you want me to ruin you and make you mine, the feeling of what it would be like to be taken by a man, not a mere Jedi boy. They don’t know what you want like I do,” he says cockily.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you admit.

“Then I’ll do the talking. From the moment I first saw you, I knew I had to have you. I mean, why else do you think you ended up with me all these times your master was out? It’s because I told the others to let me train you even if it was temporary.”

“I had no idea, Master Skywalker,” you say truthfully, but also surprised at what you were hearing right now.

“I think we’re past all the formalities, don’t you? Call me Anakin,” he says.

“Anakin, I had no idea,” you correct yourself.

“That’s better. Now do you want to take this somewhere a little more… private?” he asks.

“Like where?” you ask playfully.

“Perhaps my quarters?” he suggests.

“I’d like that,” you say with an ear to ear grin, clearly showing you had gotten over your shyness.

“Follow me then,” he says before reaching his hand out to yours. You take his hand before he walks the two of you out of the room and into the dark halls of the the temple. The two of you look for anyone who may be lurking in the halls, but there’s no one. Before you know it, you guys have reached his room and that’s when he hastily opens the door and slams it just as hard.

He wastes no time before hungrily kissing you on the lips and pushing you against the wall of his room. The kiss is primarily fueled by pent-up desire that had been built up in the two of you for what seemed like forever.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this... wanted you," you pant against his lips.

"Trust me...I do," Anakin clarifies. He then moves his lips and latches them onto your neck, sucking roughly at the surrounding skin.

"Anakin..." you whine.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he responds.

"I want you to fuck me," you confess.

"You do, huh?" he rhetorically asks, already knowing the answer you would give him.

"Please Ani.. don't tease me," you pathetically say. You know how you sound right now, but you're too lost in the moment to care about any of that.

"Anything for you, baby," he coos.

With that, he swiftly grabs your hips before letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He guides the two of you toward his bed and gently lays you down. "I'm gonna treat you so well that you won't be able to think about any other man besides me... gotta have you all to myself, baby," Anakin says full of passion while undressing you until you're all bare for him and only him. He knows you want to undress him, but he stops you before you can even lay a hand on any of his garments. He starts to strip himself of any and all clothes he previously had on and maker, his body did not disappoint. Despite his age, he had kept most of the lean physique he had when he was in his twenties. His abs were sculpted to absolute perfection. The way his waist was so defined practically had you drooling. He was perfect in every way. Even his dick was. It was all red at the tip and sat upright, but the thing that stood out the most was how long and thick it was.

"Eyes up here, darling," he says with a slight laugh.

"I don't know if I can take all of that," you shamefully admit.

"You want it though, don't you?" Anakin asks.

"Yes."

That was all you had to say before he positioned himself on the bed and instantly inserted himself inside your tight pussy, giving you no time to adjust to his size as he thrusts into your greedy walls. You immediately felt full of his thick cock and felt yourself clench around him.

"Need to train this hole if you're gonna be all mine," he grits.

"Please!" you cry out, digging your nails into his defined shoulders, which only eggs him on even further.

"Need to ruin you for any other guys, yeah?" he goes on.

You can only nod your head yes due to the newfound pleasure filling your body. No other man had made you feel this good. Maybe it was because one of them had experience like Anakin did. Relationships were strictly forbidden for Jedi to have, but there were rumors about Senator Padme Amidala being pregnant with Anakin's children. You thought they were merely rumors, but that was before you had his cock deep inside your weeping cunt, thrusting until you were all raw and sore. Before tonight, you never knew that's what you wanted.

"Harder!" you beg of him.

"Poor little thing... hasn't been full of my cock for more than 5 minutes and is already begging for more" he tuts.

"Please, daddy!" you scream.

"That's right baby," he says in a soft yet promising tone.

Fulfilling your needs, he spreads your legs even further to get an even better angle of your pussy before animalistically pounding his fat cock into your swollen walls. You couldn't help but loudly moan at his movements. You knew you were giving other people the chance to hear what was going on, but you were too cock drunk to care. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the thin walls of the room and probably the entire hall, as a matter of fact. You felt too full to even form coherent thoughts. He wasn't planning on slowing down anytime soon now that you had given him the green light to go harder. He wouldn't stop until you were a crying mess.

A familiar feeling started to form as you saw stars in your blurred vision. You felt a rope of heat fill your stomach and knew you wouldn't be able to hold off for much longer.

"'M so close Master...please let me cum!" you cry out.

"Just hold on for a bit longer... wanna make you feel as good as possible," he replies. You nod your head at this and comply with his words. He suddenly then ruts his hips even rougher on yours, knowing you would be bruised for days to come.

"I'm gonna-" you start to say.

"Let go for me baby. I've got you... cum all over my cock."

With his permission, you finally let go and spill all over him while he's still fucking you through it. He groans at the feeling of your warmth around his hard cock and cums shortly after. He pulls out of you before lying down next to you. "You did so well for me, darling," he says in a reassuring manner.

Just as you're about to speak, there's a sudden knock on the door that alerts the two of you. The two of you rush to put your clothes on, not wanting to answer the door naked for whoever is on the other side. Once the two of you are fully dressed, Anakin opens the door and it's none other than your master Obi-Wan.

Shit, the two of you were screwed.

"I see that the two of you are finally done engaging in....activities. However, please remember that some of us were forced to listen to your obscenities. Please come with me otherwise you will be dealing with far worse!" he says in an almost lecturing dad tone.

This was gonna be a long night.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin star wars #hayden christensen #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fandom #star wars anakin #anakin x reader #attack of the clones

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loveemagicpeace · 4 months

Text

💧A little deeper stuff💧

✨First of all, having one of these aspects does not mean that you have bad birth chart or that your life is messy, unlucky or anything. It may just mean that one area is more challenging than another. And also if u have a lot of good aspects means these aspects are not so influential. ✨

⚡️One of the hardest aspect is mercury opp saturn-negative thoughts can take over your mind and you can start thinking that people think the worst about you. Especially if mercury is in your first house (because mercury in the first house represents awareness of yourself and things around you - and you can start imagining too much about yourself).Problems with your body or your appearance may arise.

🥥Chiron in 1st house-it can mean that there is a lot of trauma related to you and your appearance. The key here is to accept yourself as you are.

💕Venus opp saturn-it can mean that you don't love yourself enough or that you don't value yourself enough. Self-love can be difficult, especially if Venus is in the 1st house. It can also mean that you want to be more beautiful or you want to change your appearance. There may also be problems with whether you deserve money, material things, luxury, enjoyment. Maybe you have doubts about whether you really deserve it and it's hard for you to accept it.

❤️‍🔥Jupiter in 2nd house-these people will always have money no matter what. Their earnings will be easy and free. Many times it means that you are serving abroad.

🧚🏽Uranus & Neptune in 6th house can be the reason that you have strange diseases for which you do not understand exactly why you have them (sometimes the cause is unknown). Many times changes happen all at once and suddenly. Neptune can give an illusion about your body and appearance. Sometimes you may feel like you are not very aware of why things are happening to you.

🦋Sun in 12th house-many times I notice that these people have mental problems that are related to their personality. Because the sun represents you as a person and your personal identity, where you shine and how, but above all you. And when the sun is in your 12th house, you cannot express your personality enough and find it difficult to find yourself and who you really are. It's harder for you to show your energy and light. You can't shine enough or in the way you want.

🪐Saturn in 7th house-I notice that many of these people's parents live separately or get divorced already in their early years. And I think it's harder for these people to find love because it's hard for them to believe that it really exists. But they learn a lot about it in life.

Also, people with saturn in the 7th house learn the hard way what love is. Many times they have one really difficult relationship behind them, which changes their life, but because of it they find a part of themselves that they didn't know before. Because saturn represents what we learn but the hard way and And what marks our life the most. For ex.: someone with saturn in 3rd house- maybe it could be friendship (this house represents a best friend), elementary school/high school, maybe high school love. Saturn in the 8th house - in your early life you may have experienced a lot of secrets, betrayals, infidelity, a lot of dark things that you don't want to talk about with anyone, these people should talk to someone about all the things that are bothering them. It can also be the death of someone who has a great influence on your life.

🪴Pluto in 4th house-They usually have very influential mother and their mother can be very controlling. It's not always like that. You can also have very powerful bond with your mother or very distant and very unhealthy relationship.

🪻1st house placements can also make you feel very lonely sometimes. Because first house indicate you independent from others. I think people always think these people are very selfish ,independent & that they don't need anybody. It's not like that, they just have their own energy. And they focus on the things that are here at this moment and that they can control. But in reality, sometimes they can feel very lonely.

🫧A lot of lonely souls have pisces ,capricorn ,sagittarius placements. All of them are independent signs and do not need anyone in their lives (in the sense that they know how to manage on their own or go through life alone, because they have always been used to it). The reality is that they can often feel alone in the process.

🌙Moon in fire signs many times they have a lot of sadness, anxiety inside because they are emotionally independent all their lives and do not want to burden others with things and many times they are taught to go through life alone and with independence. Many times they carry anger with themselves. Their emotions show mostly through anger. They do not allow themselves to be weak.

🪁Saturn in 1st house people have a very calm voice and many times they calm you down a lot. Very caring people. I don't know what it is about them, but their whole presence is very calming and when you are with them you feel as if they know how to protect you. Many times they give off a fatherly energy and are very non-judgmental people.

💿Pluto in 11th house- you will always transform yourself through friends, dreams, vision, hopes, wishes. Friendships often end because you don't feel that people are dedicated and sincere enough. Many times you experience betrayal, jealousy from people. Also one thing that can change between you and your friends is also that you two no longer share the same interest or hopes ,wishes. Also opinions and look on the life. People with this placements don't believe in politics or things the media say. They know very well what the truth is. They hate people who always conform to others, not sincere kindness or naivety.

🦋Chiron in Scorpio- There can be all of things that are related to secrets ,jealousy ,controlling. Maybe even violence in their early year. But most of all these people don't like that someone else control them. They have to learn to trust people, but trust is hard to find because they are often disappointed. You can heal a lot of people who have complex problems. Or problems related to relationships ,toxic relationships. You can give them good advice or a literally help them. You can heal a lot of broken souls.

🌇Chiron in Sagittarius- It's hard for you to find faith into something. Maybe believing into things is hard for you. These people can also have trauma with church or church can make them feel unsafe. You can heal all the people with your optimism ,good energy, positive thoughts. U can heal people with giving them great advice about life & teach them how to live. But you can also heal yourself in a way that you believe in something that's it's your own.

🌌Pluto in 1st house- I talked about this before. Pluto represents depth, how deep you go to discover the truth, dark things, secrets, jealousy, intimacy, sharing your soul with another person, what you want to remain hidden. With pluto here means that you seen all -all the hurt all the damage ,the dark stuff in your life. Because it's in your first house and it's related to you. You can attract a lot of people who don't actually have good intentions with you. You can also attract a lot of jealousy people then don't want to see you doing good. You have hard time accepting people in your life because you feel that everybody is going to hurt you in some way.

🌠The only sign who truly understands karma is Capricorn, especially Capricorn rising because it's in the first house. And 1st house means everything you are aware of and everything you see. Also Saturn is your chart ruler. So it's especially strong and I deeply believe the people who have Saturn as a chart ruler that they always receive good karma. And Saturn will always protect them from the evil people and from the situation that are not good for them. Remember all the things that happened to you in your life. And then remember how saturn save you from them. For ex.: some relationship that was actually turns out to be toxic ,from friendship that turns out they never been honest with you , from accident or things that literally happened to you.

✨Ig- bekylibra✨

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🦋💿💫

#astrology #energy #zodiac signs #my notes #planets #astrological houses

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thealternateuniverse · 4 days

Text

At who's the best at

Paige Bueckers x Fem reader

Warnings: Slowburn (?), curses, sexual inunendos

A/N: I couldn't think of a title 😭 I am so sorry. Other characters are from my imagination, they are not related to NCAA at all. Had to get this ideas out of my head.

Y/N was panting, hands on her knees after doing laps across the court. Today is hell, Geno is not taking it easy on them, the training is tougher compared to the previous months as their team is advancing to Elite 8. She thanked the cardio gods for being on her favor today or she will pass out. Taking one last deep breath, she put her both hands on her waist and walked towards the three point shot perimeter. Qadence pats her on the back while she is dribbling for a three point shot.

"Take it easy babe." She nodded at Qadence before shooting the ball. Another miss.

"Miller!" Geno motioned to come to him. Y/N sighed and jog towards her coach's direction.

"Kid, do you see this?" Geno handed her his clipboaard with her stats on it.

"This is from the last game against Duke."

Y/N scanned her stats, and it is much better progress compared to their match against Sycaruse and Jackson State.

"Yeah and it will get more better if you can hoop today. What the hell is wrong Miller? Shade and Edwards blocked you three times today. You don't get blocked thrice based on these stats. What's wrong kid?"

Y/N didn't respond and remain silent. It shows in the practice that she is preoccupied today.

"Nothing Geno, it's just......" she trailed off thinking of what she should say.

"I'll do better. I'll make sure to clear my mind before practice so I can focus." Y/N continued, bowing her head slightly. She had to prove to UConn women's basketball team that they will not regret accepting her back when she transferred here during her 2nd year. But Geno doesn't seem to be convinced of her answer.

"Alright. I am expecting much better results in our next practice. We can't make excuses once USC had our asses in our match. Go take a swim or a run in your neighborhood or whatever later, you're not yourself today and I don't want to see you like a vegetable during practice."

Y/N nodded and Geno gave her an encouraging pat on the back before letting her go back to practice. It made her feel a little better but her day is still shitty.

----

Y/N's phone keeps vibrating, this is the umpteenth time her parents called her today. She doesn't want to answer it, it will be divorce probably. It already threw her game off today and she doesn't want to ruin her day more by answering it.

Mum:

talk to me hun, please

Hun, we are sorry, I know this will be hard for you.

Do you hate us?

I'm sorry, love. It's not working anymore between me and your dad.

Dad:

Peanut, please answer your phone.

I'm sorry.

We wanted to tell you for a long time.

---

Y/N turned off her phone. With a deep sigh, she ate her tacos. She's got a lot on her plate now, her studies, her upcoming match, and now her parents divorce. She wanted to take a break.

"Boo, you okay? You're preocuppied the whole day." KK finally asked. Her teammates have been giving each other knowing looks and tiptoeing around her all day. They are not used to her being silent. She went out with them tonight hoping it will take off some things in her mind.

"I'm fine girl. Just woke up on the wrong side of the bad today." She smiled at KK. She's not ready to talk yet not until she's able to come to terms with her family.

"You suck, Miller. Paige is getting full of herself today and you're too preoccupied to humble her."

Paige almost choked on her shirley temple, she took a napkin and wiped her mouth.

"Me? Full of myself? Come on Aubs." Paige scoffs.

"Miller just realized today I don't need humbling, I'm actually good." Paige raised her eyebrows playfully followed by their teammates violent reactions.

Y/N grinned. She had to thank Paige for diverting their teammates from pressing on what's going on with her. The subject of being the best shooter between her or Paige became a daily banter. Paige was not unwelcoming when Y/N transferred in UConn but her competitive ass made sure to show why she was here first instead of Y/N. Y/N admits that Paige is actually better than her and the best all rounder, her transferring here seemed challenged the latter on who's best at what. She doesn't know why Paige thinks she has competition when she is actually the best. She likes to get on Paiges nerves so she gets along with Paige's imaginary contest.

"Get outta here Bueckers, I can do what you did earlier even with a hangover" Y/N said, giving Paige a sheepish grin. Paige made 43 consecutive 3 point shots, it got into her head today without Y/N beating it. It always annoy Paige when Y/N's record is close or beat hers.

"Oi, enough you two." Azzi stopped them before it could start to bickering. Y/N raised both her hands in surrender. She took a sip of her margaritas while still giving Paige a cocky grin. Now the latter looks annoyed.

They continued having fun, dancing and drinking. Y/N didn't move that much from her seat, she's tired and the margarita must've probabaly hit already.

"I'm just gonna go to the restroom." She excused herself. Feeling dizzy Y/n groaned, guess she will have that hangover tomorrow.

She decided to turn on her phone and was still bombarded with texts from her parents. Her mum's name popped on the screen and decided to answer it finally.

"Honey, I'm glad you answered. I've been calling all day." Her mom sounded worried on the other line.

"Sorry mum. Busy."

Her mother sighed. Y/N doesn't exactly know what to say, she is still processing that her parents will have a divorce. Out of 23 damn years, they just decided now that they don't need each other?

"Honey I.... I am so sorry. If you could come home soon we could have a talk, with your dad and I."

Y/N rolled her eyes.

"I am not going home, mom. California is 2000 miles away, I have an upcoming game in 2 weeks, and I am busy for my finals. What's the point? Your going to sell the house anyway now that you are getting divorce."

She didn't mean to sound mad over the phone, but she is really upset.

"I will call you when I am ready to talk to you both. If you two want a divorce, fine, but give me time to process that my parents don't need each other anymore after 23 damn years."

She didn't wait for her mother's response and hang up.

------

Paige went back to their booth joined by a tipsy Nika after their teammates are gone to god knows where. Dancing or probably making out with someone.

"Hey P, have fun! You're awfully behave tonight. Loosen up, it's weekend tomorrow."

Nika nudged her and throw an arm over her shoulder.

"I'm good, Ma. I don't want hangover tomorrow. Besides, someone has to stay sober to make sure you all get home safely."

Nika scoffed, rolling her eyes at her teammate. It's their last free night before Geno will give them total hell in preparation against their match with USC.

"You're boring me P. I'll go join the others and have fun being miserable here. Have you se---" Nika wasn't able to finish her sentence when a commotion started in the middle of the bar. Recognizing the 6 foot tall asses of their teammates in the scuffle, the two ran towards their direction.

"What in the fuck happened?" Nika felt her slight tipsiness gone, helping KK reach Ayanna who's ready to take a swing to an athlete from Yale. The bouncers are trying to separate them before it ends up to a total brawl. Paige scanned where the others are and her eyes landed on Y/N, her sleeves are up, Aubrey blocking her from punching another Yale athlete.

"You don't talk shit here, dawg. Go back to New Haven and fuck your slutty girlfriend!"

Paige grabbed Y/N by the waist and dragged her out of the scene. For someone who is always cool and at her composure, she was surprised that Miller can trash talk.

"Calm down, Miller. You don't get to injure that million dollar hands." With Azzi trailing behind, she brought Y/N outside and pinned her on the wall to calm her down. She looks disheveled, some of her locks escaped from her ponytail, her face is red, her sleeves are uneven and she is reeking of alcohol. What a total mess.

"What in the world was that Y/N, I know you guys don't start fights but you all are better than this. Gosh, how many drinks did you have? You are reeking of alcohol!" Azzi said frustrated.

Y/N scoffs, wiping some sweat on her forehead. Paige couldn't agree more with Azzi. They don't start fights, Y/N never looses her cool even during their banters at who is best, intense matches and bad calls from ref. Paige wonders what made her so worked up that she almost punch someone today.

"Nah, I was cool Az. I took shots from everyone, sorry I lost count."

The 2 of them grimaced. They check Y/N if she had any injuries, Geno will kill them if they are scathed and once he hears about this. Azzi wonders as to why Yale women's basketball are in Storrs. That's like an hour drive just for a night's drink.

"God you are drunk and you can take a fight." Paige said amused. She never saw Y/N got drunk because she never was.

"Oh yeah Bueckers, wanna try? Let's take it here outside." Y/N stood straight, her face annoyed.

Well that was hot. Paige thought. She raised her hands in surrender before Y/N gets totally pissed. Y/N haven't landed a punch but it might be on Paige if she triggers the latter. Azzi gave her a scolding look.

"Chill, Ma. T'was a compliment."

Y/N rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall again. She's starting to feel hazy.

"What did they do anyway?" Azzi asked.

"Douchebag's girlfriend was offering me a drink, I declined. She thought I want to fuck her slutty girlfriend and proceeds to call us defects, the others heard it, we didn't mind until she pushed Aaliyah."

Paige clenched her jaw and Azzi rubs her temple. Half of the team suffered injury in the past year. Paige wished she hadn't grabbed Y/N and let her land her fist first before fleeing from the scene, it was uncalled for. Drunken Miller surprised them tonight, they didn't know that her mouth can talk.

"That's it, we are all getting home. I'm gonna go get the others." Azzi left them outside.

"Yeah Azzi and tell that cunt to fuck her girlfriend properly."

Paige shook her head. Y/N is definitely the highlight of tonight's event.

"What got you so worked up today, Miller? You almost took it out on someone."

KK was right, Y/N was preoccupied. She didn't have any baskets during practice. Paige had 29 3 points in a row today, usually Y/N comes close or even beat her. It's unusual for someone who plays ball since 5th grade, she just did laps all day.

Y/N groans. "I'll talk about it tomorrow when I'm sober. can you take me home please? Paige."

Paige, licked her lips and pretends to think about it. She's gonna do it anyway.

"I never thought you were into girls." Paige blurted out. She mentally slapped herself right after. Her intrusive thoughts won.

"You guys never asked. I never said I was into boys either. So annoying."

For some reason, Paige couldn't keep her smile off. She was grinning like and idiot. Y/N noticed and she rolled her eyes, Paige looks stupid.

"You look like an idiot Bueckers."

"Maybe I am."

She twirls her car keys and they started to walk where she parked her car. She's behind Y/N who's trying to keep a straight-face and herself from stumbling.

Azzi and KK following them, KK still heated from the commotion earlier and keeps trash talking. Azzi is trying to cover her mouth for being loud. KK, Azzi, Nika and Y/N rode with Paige. The others were at Aaliyah's car since they live together in the same apartment. Paige shook her head, they are all dead on Monday.

-------

Y/N woke up, her head pounding and throat dry. She groaned when she tried to get up. She knew immediately it was bad last night to have a hangover like this, she rarely gets drunk and when she does, she has it bad. She jolted up when realizes that this is not her room. The bed sheet is purple, there are Miami Heat posters everywhere and the trophies are too many to be hers. Not until she saw the familiar number 5 jersey hanging on the wall.

"Fuck, what did I do last night." She whispered to herself. This must be Paige's room. She tries recalling the events of last night and vaguely remembers the Yale athlete talking shit. She almost got involved in a brawl.

Y/N got up from bed only to realize that she is wearing Paige's clothes, it's one of her old team USA shirts, nothing else and her boxers. It's already 2 in the afternoon, she could hear the ruckus outside Paige's room and KK's rambunctious laugh.

She opened the door and was greeted by the chaos of her teammates.

Y/N winced when the pounding of her head hits again. She sat down on one of the bean bags and leaned her head back trying to ease the headache. In an instant, Paige handed her a bottle of water and a tylenol. She gave Paige what is this for ? look.

"Your hangover, duh."

"Ya'll our sleeping beauty is awake." KK sat beside her but she was waiving where Ice was. Ice was doing live on the corner, and she didn't realize that where she is is being captured. Gosh she looks horrible.

"Guys, they wanna know something. You remember we did a tiktok of who among in the team you don't want your kid to date..... They want the opposite."

Qadence was quick to shout "Aaliyah" followed by KK's "Y/N"

"Yeah, I'll go with Y/N too." Ice agreed

"Y/N will throw hands, I'll bet on her too." Aubrey added.

" 'bout you, Paige?"

The team groaned when Paige showed her "rizz hands."

"Will we go further? I'll let my kid date myself." The team erupted in disagreement. Nika throws a pillow towards Paige's direction. "Dream on Bueckers!" Y/N shakes her head too.

Paige is a gender bender, the amount of fans she has be it a boy or a girl is insane. She may look like a fuck-boy type but she'll be a good girlfriend, the question though is, can they take her superstar life?

"Y/N, they wanted to know who you want your kid to date." Ice turned towards her. Y/N straightened her back a little, enough only to face Ice.

"No one, you guys loves ball more than relationships." Everyone burst in laughter.

"You heard our homie? We're not playboys/playgirls, basketball is life." Ice said in live while giving a thumbs up.

"Nawww! she's just playing safe!" KK shouted.

" Y/N is so fine, I think I'll start watching live " Ice reading through comments.

Y/N suddenly felt conscious. She moved where the camera can't see her so she can deal with what's left of her hangover.

" Does Y/N have a boyfriend or what? Saw her in Stanford before and what the hell is she doing on the court, go model in a runway or something--- Yo! Someone said you should model Y/N!" KK is reading along with Ice now.

Y/N blushed on the compliment(?). She couldn't think of herself as someone who walks on a runway or pose for a magazine aside from playing ball. She's no Cameron Brink who could pass that criteria.

"Maaaaan, they are all whipped to our girly pop. We've been gatekeeping our secret weapon."

Some of her teammates joined KK and Ice in reading the comments.

"Y/N c'mere they want to see you."

Y/N doesn't want to be rude by not saying even a "hi" but she really feels shit right now. She look around the room and her eyes landed on Paige, begging for help.

"Y'all sorry but Miller is not feeling well, you'll get to see her in Gampel soon. Be sure to be there." Paige shouted while throwing an arm around Y/N's shoulder. They are both far from the camera, Y/N waived though from where they are.

"Thank God." Y/N muttered and leaned on Paige's shoulder and she felt her stiffened.

Ice wrapped up her live leaving disappointed viewers to only see a glimpse of Y/N. All of them went back to their chaotic self.

--------

A/N: Please stay tuned for the next part. I think I have a hangover too 🤮. Wrote this when we were at the bar. Feedbacks and suggestions are open.

ALSO..... DOES ANYONE KNOWS WHO DOES THE GIRLS HAIRS DURING THEIR GAMES? DO THEY HAVE A HAIRSTYLIST OR WHAT?? PLEASE HELP A GIRL OUT. 😌

#paige buckets #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #kk arnold #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #stanford cardinal #ncaa women’s basketball #aubrey griffin #aaliyah edwards #ice brady

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simp4pedropascal75 · 1 month

Text

"Everywhere." (dbf!joel x reader)

summary: Before beginning to work in your new job, you decided to visit your dad in Texas for the whole summer break. What you didn't know is, that you would meet your teenager's crush, your dad's best friend, again. Joel fucking Miller.

words: 5.4k

trigger warnings: dbf!Joel, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Joel is in his early 40s), no!outbreak!Joel, some mentions of y/n, a little bit angst, 18+, smut (f!nger!ng, praising, s3x, ect.)

a/n: well, it's been a while since I posted. I hope you're all doing well and I hope you'll enjoy this new ff. <3

(sorry for spelling mistakes, english is still not my first language)

-------------------♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡-------------------

It has been two months now since you have this special affair. Every time you sneak over to him, your breath quickens, and butterflies fly around in your stomach when you’re getting nearer to him.

Every time you lay in bed alone, you feel his hands and his kisses all over you.

Every time you think of him, thinking of every night you two had… you can't bear the ache between your legs.

But it is not just the sex…

Every time you’re with him, you forget all your worries and fears.

Every time you're with him, he makes you feel safe.

He makes you feel loved.

He makes you feel alive.

When you think of all this, it is just perfect.

But it's not.

No one can know.

No one can know that you sneak out mostly every night to go to him.

No one can know how you feel about him.

No one can see.

It has to be a secret.

When you’re not alone, you just have to act like your just neighbours…

Even if you are neighbours.

It’s not easy. It’s hard.

But even if the fear of having to end everything doesn’t let you go… it doesn’t keep you from doing it.

Maybe someday, you can let everybody see.

See that you love him.

But that’s all just in your head. You love him, you really do, but… it’s complicated.

You don’t know if he really feels the same way about you do.

But there’s one thing you really know.

You’re in love with Joel Miller.

Yes, the Joel Miller who’s nearly twenty years older than you.

The Joel Miller who’s you’re neighbour and has known you since you’re a teenager.

The Joel Miller you’ve watched doing work in his garden.

The Joel Miller with these beautiful eyes and strong arms.

And… the Joel Miller who’s unfortunately your dad’s best friend.

You were 14 when you moved to Texas with your dad. It was shortly after your mom and dad’s divorce. He got the legal custody of you. And you were kind of relieved that you didn’t have to live with your mother. Sometimes in the past, she got pretty impulsive towards you and your parents just kept fighting. But you still have some contact with her.

So, it was good to begin all over again. You went to a new school, made some friends and all kinds of that stuff. Your dad also found a new job and got along with the neighbors, especially Joel Miller.

They got along pretty well, since they were both a single dad with one daughter.

But all besides that, you never really knew him. You waved him when you saw him outside.

When he was over at, your dad's house you simply said hello. You never really wanted to talk to your dads' friends.

But everything changed when you became older. You remember how your dad asked you to look after Joel 8 years old daughter Sarah and you didn’t say no to that. It was a good way of earning some money of your own.

So, you’re started with 18 to babysit Joel's daughter. And that’s when you started getting a slight crush on him. You noticed over time that you feel different with him than with the two or three boys in your age, you dated in the past. Over the two years you’ve started getting an immense crush on him, but it was hopeless. It was just a dream fantasy of him and you getting together since he was that older than you. Just a teenager’s crush.

At the end of 19 you left for college in Louisiana and told yourself to grow up. You studied philosophy and even if it wasn’t always so easy, you finished from college and then even got a job as a professor in another university to teach philosophy.

But before you started working in your new job, there was a long summer break. And after all the learning and writing exams, you deserved it the most.

You decided to visit your dad in Texas and stay there for the whole break because you didn’t see him often for the past years. You also wanted to spend your 26th birthday with him and in your second hometown.

You pulled over your car in the driveway and parked. As you got out of the car, your dad already walked towards you. “Oh, there’s my girl!”, he smiled happily and hugged you tightly. “It’s so good to be back home!”, you said. Your dad and you small talked for a bit while he was getting out your luggage out of the car. Suddenly, you heard a very familiar voice.

“Hey buddy”, you heard, and you turned around. You saw them talking and then saw who he was.

“Hey, you still remember …?”, your dad says but you already finished the sentence in your thoughts.

Joel.

When he stands in front of you, you freeze. He looks even hotter than before…

How can someone look that good in his 40s?

You cleared your throat. “Yea- of course”, you responded. Your heart begins to race. “Umm- How’s Sarah?”, you asked firmly. “She’s doing really well. She’s on a vacation with some of her school friends for the whole summer break. But she would be so happy to see you”, you remembered him replying with his texan accent.

And that’s how everything started. You saw him way more often and talked to him when he was at your dad’s house. He made you laugh and feel safe. Every time he was just near you, you couldn’t think rationally. The first weeks after your arrival, you spend a lot of time with Joel since there was a lot going on your dad’s work.

Every morning after breakfast you went over to his house and you two played UNO, chess or simple board games. He showed you around the neighbourhood and told you everything you’ve missed while your away. You noticed that during the time you spent together, he looked at you in a different way. You thought you’re just being delusional, but he acted differently towards you, but differently good.

You often caught him staring at you, every time he called you “darling” or “princess”, you got goosebumps and when you teased him, which you loved, he got so nervous.

There was just this tension between you two.

And one day, it just happened. You were at his house and put on your shoes to go home because it was already kind of late and you wanted to get home before your dad did.

Joel was sitting on the couch, watching football. “You’re sure you got everything?”, he asked you while looking at the TV. “Yea- I think so”, you replied and put on your jacket. You put your hands in your pockets and noticed that you forgot your keys. They were lying next to Joel on the other side of the couch.

You smirked, walked over to him and bend right over his lap to grab your keys. “ ‘just need to grab my keys…”, you mumbled and felt his whole body getting tense. “I know what you’re doing...”, you remember him mumbling under his breath.

“I’m not doing anything, old man”, you chuckled, grabbed your keys and walked towards the door. He stood up and you thought he would open the door for you, like he always did, like a gentleman. But now he was just standing there.

“Well, I wish you a good night, then”, you smiled and opened the door half way, until he closed it. He pushed you against it and the next second you felt his lips on yours. You froze and the butterflies in your belly got crazy. Your heart was racing but you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back.

And that’s how this whole affair thing started.

Nearly every night you sneaked out to him, like today.

You’re in his bedroom and the only thing you can hear is heavy breathing, moans and skin clapping together. “Joel-“, you breath out while you’re lying on your stomach, and he’s fucking you from behind.

His one hand grabbing your waist and the other hand pulling your hair back, makes your eyes roll back. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight-“, he groans and thrusting into you even deeper.

You squeeze your eyes together, slowly feeling that very familiar feeling in your lower stomach. “Joel, I’m gonna-“, he cuts you off.

“No, not now. I wanna look at you-“, he gasps, and you suddenly feel an emptiness in you, as he pulls out.

“Joel-“, you whine, and he flips you around on your back. “Shh, you can take it”, he breathes. He leans over you and kisses you passionately. His tongue explores your mouth, and you still can taste yourself in his mouth from him eating you out earlier.

His hand slides over your belly, grabbing your breast and squeezing them harshly while his other hand spreads your legs. He breaks the kiss, and you gasp for air. You look right into his eyes… his beautiful eyes.

He rubs his tip over your wet pussy, teasing you. “Fuck Joel- I cant-“, you whimper and bite your lower lip. “You can…”, he whispers and pushes his hard dick into you.

You moan satisfied as the emptiness fades away. He begins thrusting into you while his hand is slowly wrapping around your neck.

“You’re such a good girl…”, he groans and pushing your waist into the mattress. It doesn’t take you long for you to feel that familiar feeling again. Joel feels it too.

Between your loud moans and breaths, you want to say it, but he places his lips on yours. “I know, baby… me too”, he breaths. Everything gets tense in your body.

You chuckle slightly, but your chuckle fades quickly, by feeling him directly hitting your g-spot. Your moans get louder and you roll back your eyes.

“Look at me…”, he slightly growls by being just concentrated on you. You feel his dick twitching inside of you. You pull yourself together and look at him. His strong arms, six-pack shining in the moonlight that comes through the window.

“My beautiful girl…”, he moans, and that’s it

“Cum for me.”, and you do. You cum all over his dick which leaves you breathless. You look at him, while he continues thrusting into you two more times, until you see his mouth opening and feeling him filling you right up.

You come fresh out of the shower wearing comfy shorts and a white tank top. You put your towel dried hair up in a bun and walk downstairs to the kitchen. You hear the shower still running upstairs, since Joel is still in there.

You walk to the fridge and open it. You get out a beer for Joel and an ice cream for you. You close the fridge and walk to the living room, placing the cold beer on the table and take a quick look at the clock.

12pm

While eating your ice cream, you look at Joels house plants, which just nearly survived because of you. You chuckle sightly and begin watering them.

“they would already be dead if I didn’t had you“, you hear Joels voice say behind you.

“I know”, you reply quietly and concentrated on the plants. You hear Joel sit down on the couch and open his beer. As you keep watering the plants, you see Joel searching for the TV remote.

“it is literally right next to you”, you sigh and let out a chuckle. You put the watering can away and jump on the couch next to him. His stare is fixed on the TV while he drinks his beer. You rest your head on his shoulder and he puts his hand on your thigh, caressing it.

“Joel”, you mumble and keep watching TV.

“Hm..?”, he hums.

“Í have been thinking about… well, how this all will go on, when the summer break ends..”, you whisper cautious, watching his reaction directly.

All you hear is a sigh from him while he takes a sip from his beer. “go on?”, he replies focused on the TV. You gulp, moving away from him and sitting up.

“well yes- how will this thing go on?”, you ask more seriously, pointing on him and you. “or don’t you want it goes on?”, you mumble, feeling your heart getting heavier.

“‘never really thought about it-“´, he replies with a sound like he doesn’t really give a shit, he’s just concentrated on his TV. You scoff and get up. You grab your bag pack and walk to the entrance, slipping into your shoes.

“wait-“, Joel sighs and you hear him get up. “that’s not what I meant”, he mumbles and rubs his forehead while watching you.

“well, I think its really clear what you mean and think”, you scoff again and grab your jacket. “look- I never really thought about it”, he grabs your hand and pulls you towards him.

“I don’t know what you expect from me-“, he mumbles. Your heart gets heavier again, and you shake your hand, while you can't believe what’s really going on.

“what I expect you to-“, you stop and take a deep breath, “I’ll go, my dad will come back from work soon”, you whisper and get your hand out of his grip.

Opening the door. “good night, Joel”, you mumble and walk to your house. The last thing you hear from Joel was a loud sigh, and then the closing of the door.

——

You’re laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling. The bright sunlight was shining through the window. You think about last night and sigh.

‘Did he really never thought about it…?’, you think to yourself.

You stand up and walk over to your desk. You look in the mirror, noticing some hickeys on your neck.

Your mind plays back last night, his lips pressed on your neck, while his fingers are buried inside of you. How he- “y/n, would you come down please?”, you hear your dad calling from downstairs, ripping you out of your thoughts.

“Yes!”, you reply and sigh. You quickly grab your cute summer dress out of your closet and quickly make yourself ready in the bathroom, covering up all these hickeys. While you run downstairs, you put your hair up in a messy bun. “What is it, dad?”, you ask loudly and walk into the kitchen.

“You remember how I talked about these grill party’s, every neighbour does for the neighbourhood? Today its my turn”, you hear him talking out of the living room, while you grab yourself a coke. “yeah, what about it?”, you ask, making your way into the living room.

“well, I need your help in organising, Joel isn’t enough, you know”, he laughs, and you freeze in the doorway, looking at Joel who’s sitting next to your dad on the couch.

“Joel is helping us since we’ll help him next week when he has to do the grill party”, your dad says, looking with a smirk to Joel. You don’t answer.

“hey? Did you hear what I said, lazy head?”, your dad laughs while Joel looks at you. “yea- um sorry. I heard you”, you mumble as you pull yourself together and clear your throat. “I mean, yea, I can help you. What should I do?”, you ask, trying to ignore Joel and just looking at your dad.

“well, while I get everything prepared here, you and Joel can get groceries shopping”, he suggests and takes a look at Joel, looking for a reply.

“Sure”, Joel replies and gives him a pat on his back. “I mean-“, you get cut off. “We’re already on our way”, Joel says and gets up, grabbing his cars keys which are laying on the couch. You scoff, shaking your head. “Come on”, Joel calls and opens the door.

“bye dad”, you mumble quietly and grab your shoes, putting them on and walking through the door, towards his car.

“Thanks for asking me”, you whisper annoyed and open the car door and take a seat.

“You’re welcome, darling”, Joel replies and gets in the front seat and starts the engine. As he begins driving, you let the window down and close your eyes, relaxing under the warm breeze on your face.

“how did you sleep?”, Joel suddenly asks, trying to smalltalk and you chuckle. “you’re really bad at small talk, you know that? But I didn’t sleep well, no”, you reply and watch the kid's playing soccer as you pass by a house.

“look, because of yesterday-“, Joel begins talking but then stops. He rubs his forehead and takes a deep breath.

“I-“, he tries. “we’re there”, you cut him off and directly as he parks you get out of the car.

You have no nerves for this now.

You two arrive back at your home, and take out the whole groceries, placing them on the kitchen counter.

“thanks you two”, your dad says as he walks past you, kind of stressed. “I’ll be back in a minute, I need to go over to Veronica”, he shouts since he’s already out of the door. Veronica is one of your neighbours, she’s a really nice old lady.

You look over to Joel next to you, who just finished taking out all the groceries. You suddenly feel his hands on your waist, turning you around and pressing you against the kitchen counter.

You let out a sigh. “Joel-“, you mumble and try to get out of his grip. “Look at me”, he says clearly and stern.

“Come on, now-“, you whine and he pushes you against the counter even more. “I said, look at me”, he stated. You roll your eyes and look up to him. “what?”, you whisper annoyingly.

The next thing you feel are his lips pressed on yours. You try to resist, but your body replies to him by opening your mouth, allowing his tounge to explore yours. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you.

“I’m sorry…”, he breathes as you pause the kiss. “I’m sorry about yesterday.. of course I want all this to keep going, but- it’s just difficult”, he mumbles and presses his lips on yours again.

“I know…”, you murmur against his lips.

“we’ll figure something out…”, he whispers as he stops the kiss again and caresses your cheek.

You let out a slight smile and nod. You look right into his eyes and that’s when this desire kicks in again. You immediately slam your lips on his again, grabbing onto his shirt. You grab his hand, placing it on your clothed breast. He squeezes it harshly, rubbing with his fingers in circles around your nipple.

You whimper into the kiss, feeling this ache between your legs again. You grab his hand, leading it down your stomach, but he stops. “We can’t- your dad.”, he points out and stops.

“he’s not there yet- I need you…”, you whisper desperately into his ear.

Joel hesitates. “fuck…”, he hisses under his breath. That’s when his hand slips under your dress, pushing away your panties and sliding two fingers into your wet pussy. You let out a satisfied moan and let your head fall back.

“You need to be quick, baby”, he mumbles into your ear while he grabs your waist with his other hand, so he can support you in standing. His fingers slide in and out, searching after your soft spot. As he finds this spot, your moans get louder and your legs weaker.

“fuck, joel…”, you breath out, squeezing your eyes together as you feel your climax building up in your lower stomach. “come on, baby..”, he whispers into your ear while he hits this exact spot with his fingers. You hear the door unlock. As he feels you’re cumming, he covers your mouth with his hand.

“cum for me, sweetheart…”, he demands as he hits this spot one last time and you cum with a loud moan, which his hand muffles.

“I’m back”, you two hear your dad call and hear his steps getting nearer the kitchen. He pulls his fingers out of you, releases you out of his grip and licks off his fingers. You pull down your dress again and that’s when your dad comes in.

“everything okay?”, he asks with a smile and you nod, still out of breath.

“yea”, you reply and give him a forced smile back.

‘That was close’, you think to yourself.

“Well then, let’s make everything ready for tonight”, he chuckles and walks out of the kitchen. You take a glance at Joel, who’s still a little shocked since you two almost got caught. You go on tiptoes and place a kiss on his cheek. You take the groceries and carry them out to the garden, with Joel looking after you.

You hear so many laughters coming out of the garden while you’re in the kitchen to grab some drinks for outside. The whole garden was full, since almost the whole neighbourhood was there.

You go out, with all the drinks in your hand, placing them on the table. You take a glass of water and give it to Veronica, the old lady, which as your neighbour.

“thank you, sweetheart”, she says with a kind smile. You look around, and see everyone chatting, drinking or eating. Your stare falls on Joel, who was talking and laughing with your dad while they are standing at the grill.

‘He would never really approve of you and Joel, would he?’

You sigh.

But you remember Joel words…

“We’ll figure something out“

And that’s how the next following weeks kept going. You keep sneaking over to him at night. But your dad often noticed or saw you going out when he came home late from work, and then you always had to come up with some random excuse.

You slowly noticed that your dad has got quiet of sceptical and tried to talk about you once because you always go out late. But you’re a adult. And you really couldn’t care, all you could care about was him.

Joel Miller.

It was midnight and you and Joel are laying in his bed. You lay in his arms while he’s running his fingers through your hair. Your breath was still fast, 5 minutes ago he fucked the shit out of you.

You feel so safe and comfortable in his arms, but thinking about that you have to go back to Louisiana… You let out a sigh and hug him tightly.

“you’re okay?”, you hear Joel mumbling. You nod slowly, “yea”

Joel knows exactly what’s on your mind. “tell me, when you could go anywhere you want on this earth, where would it be?”, he asks and looks down at you.

You chuckle slightly. “I don’t know… I always wanted to see the northern lights”, you reply.

“why are you asking?”, you ask confused and sit up, pulling the blanket over your body.

“maybe I can take you there someday”, he mumbles and gives you a slight smirk.

You roll your eyes. “yea sure…”, you mumble.

“somewhere else too?”, he raises his eyebrows and sits up too.

“come on joel, don’t play with me”, you hit him playfully. “no, I mean it”, he grabs your waist and pulls you onto his lap.

“something else?”, he asks again.

“hmm… maybe- the maldives… I was never on the maldives”, you whisper.

“noted.”, he mumbles and pretends to write it down. You giggle. “somewhere else?”, he asks again with a smile.

God, how you love his smile.

“really? You don’t even have that much money, old man”, you chuckle as he grabs you by your waist again and pushes you in the mattress while leaning over you.

“i don’t care, i’ll take you wherever you wanna go.”, he whispers and looks right into your eyes. Your thoughts about you leaving immediately vanish and you give him a smile. He presses his lips on yours.

“everywhere?”, you mumble into his kiss while your heart was pounding like crazy.

He nods. “everywhere.”,

He replies and places kisses on your neck, while he slowly moves down your stomach. You bite your lip, looking at him how he disappears under the blanket between your legs. You let out a soft moan as you feel his lips pressed against your clit and give yourself totally to him.

You put on your shoes while the sun starts to come out slowly. “i’ll come back tonight, then”, you mumble tired and go on tiptoes to place a kiss on Joel’s lips. He hums against your lips in agreement.

“I thought about showing you how to play guitar…”, he whispers while his lips can’t leave yours. You let out a chuckle, “okay…”.

You grab your jacket and open the door. “see you then”, you smile and walk out the door.

You’re in town alone. You’re walking around the shopping centre to get some ingredients for your birthday cake. You’ll get 26 years old in 4 days.

Old, you think.

While you were grocery shopping, Joel was knocking at the door of your dads house.

Your dad opens the door. “Hey buddy, what do you need?”, he asks and leans against the doorframe.

“I need to borrow this toolkit of yours, ‘need to repair something”, Joel says and clears his throat. “Yea sure, come in”, your dad smiles and walks with him into the living room. “Wait here”, he says and after some minutes he comes back with the toolkit and hands it over to Joel.

“Thanks, buddy”, Joel replies and gives him a pat on your dads back.

Joel makes his way to the exit. “Hey um, I wanted to ask you something”, your dad stops Joel. He turns around and raises his eyebrows. “sure, what is it?”, Joel replies.

“well um- I noticed y/n sneaking around at night and coming home super tired- I mean, I know she’s a grown up, but she’s still my daughter. I’m just a little concerned , since we usually talk about almost everything“, your dad says and Joel gulps.

“do you know anything? You know, since you two spend some time together while I was working, I’m really grateful for that, buddy”, your dad continues, and Joel pulls himself together.

“sure- no thing, but I know nothing, sorry”, Joel mumbles and shrugs his shoulders. “okay… yea, I just don’t want her to get in trouble or anything, not that she sneaks around with some creep or something“, your dad laughs.

Joel let’s out a fake laugh too while a wave of guilt runs over his whole body.

“you’ll tell me, when you know something, right? Since we’re buddies?”, your dad asks and places his hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“Sure”, Joel replies and takes a deep breath.

“I’ll have to get going then”, he clears his throat again and your dad nods.

“sure, good luck with the toolkit”, your dad smiles and waves at him while Joel walks over the street to his house.

It was 10pm and you walk over Joel’s house with these butterflies in your stomach going crazy again and knock on the door. He opens it.

“Hey”, you say with a smile and go on tiptoes to give him a kiss, but he turns his head. You look at him confused.

“You’re okay?”, you chuckle and stand in front him, waiting for him to answer. He lets out a sigh and rubs his forehead.

“fuck…”, he mumbles under his breath while you raise one eyebrow.

“look- this can’t go on”, he finally speaks out and your heart literally drops.

“w-wait what?”, you stutter in shock and can’t believe this is real right now.

“this won’t and can’t work out.”, he points at you and him.

“what the fuck, joel. Yesterday, you talked with me that you would take me everywhere on this world- and now, you’re like- ending it?”, you repeat everything to make it yourself clear what’s happening right now.

“Look- this was a huge mistake. It’s just too complicated and-“, you cut him off.

“You said, we’ll figure something out“, you get louder and more upset while everything around you gets hotter and your eyes wetter.

“well- unfortunately we can’t. It can’t go on like this, y/n. you need to find someone else”, he mumbles stern.

“find someone else?!”, you repeat and can’t believe every word what’s coming out of his mouth.

“what the actual fuck… I thought you loved me-“, you nearly shout and a tear runs down your cheek.

“love you? I never loved you-“, he suddenly says out loud without thinking. And that’s when your whole world stands still. You stare at him with tears in your eyes.

“fuck you, joel.”, you hiss and slap him right into the face.

Then you just turn around and walk over to your house again, trying to control the emotions which are running through your whole body right now. You quickly wipe your tears away and go into your room, not looking back.

And just like that, everything ended.

It has been four days now since Joel ended this special affair.

You didn’t sneak over to him anymore, but your breath still quickens, and butterflies fly around in your stomach when you see him, but this time, with a sharp pain right into your stomach.

Every time you lay in bed alone, you feel his hands and his kisses all over you.

Every time you think of him, thinking of every night you two had… you can't bear the ache between your legs.

But it was not just the sex…

Every time you were with him, you forgot all your worries and fears.

Every time you were with him, he made you feel safe.

He made you feel loved.

He made you feel alive.

When you think of all this, it was just perfect.

But it wasn’t.

No one could’ve known.

No one could’ve known that you sneaked out mostly every night to go to him.

No one can know how you still feel about him.

No one can see.

It had to be a secret.

When you’re not alone, you just have to act like your just neighbours, what you now just are.

It’s still not easy. It’s hard.

But now that the fear of having to end everything came true… it keeps you from doing it.

Now it’s just a fantasy that maybe someday, you can let everybody see.

See that you love him.

But that’s all just in your head. You love him, you really do, but… it’s more than complicated.

You know that he doesn’t really feel the same way about you do.

But there’s one thing you really know.

You’re in love with Joel Miller.

Yes, the Joel Miller who’s nearly twenty years older than you.

The Joel Miller who’s you’re neighbour and has known you since you’re a teenager.

The Joel Miller you’ve watched doing work in his garden.

The Joel Miller with these beautiful eyes and strong arms.

The Joel Miller who’s unfortunately your dad’s best friend.

And… The Joel Miller who broke your heart in thousand pieces.

You sit in front your birthday cake. Your dad nearly invited the whole neighborhood and now everyone waits for you to blow out your candles. You know Joel’s here too and you feel his eyes on you. That’s when the sharp pain kicks in again.

You look up from your cake and see him leaned against the doorframe of the living room.

‘You’ll regret it, Joel’, you think to yourself.

Then you look on your candles again and blow them out.

“Happy fucking birthday to me”

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