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gutsby · 3 months

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Hating Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Celebrating your dad’s birthday at the yacht club becomes damn near unbearable when Joel Miller brings a date along too. Jealousy and hate sex ensue.

Warnings: 18+. Food fight turned hatefuck (don’t ask). Cockwarming and semi-public sex on the bridge deck. Oral (m! and f!receiving). Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Age gap. C*mplay. Katoptronophilia. Orgasm denial. One risqué Viagra joke. Drinking games. Descriptions of vomiting. Joel cockwarming you while smoking a cigarette <3

Part 1 | Part 3

"Can ya try that one more time, sweet pea? For daddy?"

You can. Try, anyway. Controlling your tongue while he’s buried so deep inside you is a far harder task than expected, though. Especially when he’s so still.

Joel sees it. Feeling a twinge of pity, he leans over your body and digs his hips even deeper—not thrusting, but still granting a modicum of friction as he takes another drag of his cigarette. The hot, heavy throb of his girth pulses like your own fucking heartbeat, and your eyes roll back.

An orangutan on roller skates would’ve had more grace.

A grizzly bear in hibernation might’ve been more lively.

A fucking cross-eyed octopus reciting Shakespeare would’ve been less strange, alarming, and painfully awkward to see than your father’s best friend the week after he’d railed you senseless in the front seat of his car.

Joel Miller had shown up with a date, for Christ’s sake.

Of course, you’d been three cocktails deep and playing stack cup with a random group of gentlemen on the bridge deck at the time, but that was almost immaterial. This was your dad’s fifty-first birthday party—one of the rowdiest nights the Austin Yacht Club had yet to see—and yeah, you planned on getting belligerently shitfaced on Dirty Shirleys and obscene amounts of catered food.

You’d never thought to bring a date of your own, though.

That was just distasteful and crass, all things considered.

Presently, you slammed your ping pong ball to the tabletop and watched it make a wide arc over your cup.

“Fuckfuckfuuuuuck,” you whispered low as the man four spots down made it in, and the man after him bounced the ball straight into his own on the first go. He moved the tall, swaying stack of red Solos immediately to your right, and you knew from the jump you were fucked.

Tommy Miller was a master at stack. You could already see the sly smile on his face from the corner of your eye.

Just as Mötley Crüe gave way to Hall & Oates on the speakers overhead, Joel’s brother crammed his stack of cups over your own and made a smug, triumphant bow.

“All you, kid,” he grinned and slid the second to last cup in your direction.

You could’ve cursed his whole bloodline, Joel included.

There was no way in hell you were getting stuck with death cup again—the last, cruel punishment for the loser of the game a mix of three different types of liquor, soda, and a spritz of Natty Light. Filled to the brim and waiting to be downed by whoever didn’t sink the final shot.

You squared your shoulders and locked the fuck in.

Bounced the ball once. Twice. Christ, this was hard. The man to your left was struggling too, but he seemed just as determined and twice as skilled, and you were pretty buzzed. A second later, he made it in and, of course, slid it right back to Tommy, who was practically overcome with laughter.

“MILLER! MILLER! MILLER!” Men were not creative when it came to chants. Or beating fists on furniture.

“Quit shakin’ the shit!” Tommy roared, tapping his ping pong ball deftly onto the table’s surface.

You blinked a few hazy, anxious thoughts out of your head and tried with everything in you not to miss this shot. The instrumental bridge of ‘Maneater’ was sinking its teeth in your soul and taunting your nerves to no end.

You took the ball, swallowed hard, watched the cup, and flicked your wrist, at last, from a singularly perfect angle.

The ball was a millisecond away from making it in.

Tommy Fuckstick Miller managed to stack you first.

A chorus of obnoxious, wholly drunk howls rang loud in your ears, and suddenly, the attention was back on you, the unhappy victim of the game’s most gruesome drink.

You didn’t hesitate. You pinched your nose and guzzled from the cup before the torment could go on any longer.

You did well at first.

Opened your throat like a pro and cleared it down to the last fourth of the drink, to the point where you could see the slick white bottom side of the cup clear as day.

Your mouth had just flooded with the final draught of death cup when a familiar guitar riff caught you off guard.

You weren’t sure why it had to happen that way, but after being forced to listen to the song some five thousand times on your road trip with Joel, the tenor of Billy Joel’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard to you now. Grating. Nauseating.

Vomit-inducing.

Swiftly, you ran to the nearest railing and lost your last drink—and your whole dinner—over the side of the boat.

You yakked into Lake Travis like you never had before.

And, just as that stupid, forever-tainted song surged on, you heard footsteps approaching. A moment’s pause. Then a hand on your back. Patting gently and, seconds later, lowering a cup of water to the side of your head.

Your face was still dangling upside down off the yacht. You didn’t want to be touched.

“Go to hell, Tommy,” you muttered.

“You first,” he said, chuckling.

You didn’t sit so much as slump back onto the deck with your head in your hands. The whole boat had gone sideways in your mind, and Tommy’s outstretched arm looked more like a bubbling lump than a friendly gesture.

You groaned at the sight of the cup and shook your head.

“I’m alright, okay. I’m good.”

Then, when the cup didn’t waver:

“Can they change the fucking song already?!”

Tommy cocked a brow and squatted down next to you. He set the water aside.

“Got a problem with dad rock or somethin’?” he smirked.

You shook your head no—it wasn’t the music that was making you sick but the man Tommy called his brother that made you wanna vomit again. The thought of that man tangled up with a svelte brunette who looked fresh off the cover of Sports Illustrated when he couldn’t even be bothered to shoot you a text after the condom broke last week. Like he just didn’t give a shit if you were alive, dead, or pregnant with his child. Unfortunately, you had nothing more to throw up, and your eyes were on fire.

Tommy slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. Took a handkerchief out of his pocket.

“No more Dirty Shirleys for you, young lady,” he chided, dabbing lightly at the tears that had trickled out.

“No more men for me,” you grumbled quietly.

You couldn’t see it then, but you could feel him trying not to smile. He tugged you closer.

“Boy trouble, huh?” he said, “Whose ass needs kickin’?”

Your brother, actually. Curb stomp that fucker, please.

You shrugged instead.

“Some guy from school.”

Tommy nodded, waiting for you to elaborate. When you didn’t, he just assumed you wanted to keep it to yourself—which you did—and squeezed your shoulder softly.

“Well…you know you’ve got your dad, me, and Joel to beat the shit outta any guy, any time, any place, right?”

You wished it were that simple. You wiped your nose and nodded all the same.

“And…” Tommy started again, working slow to get you back on your feet, “Most guys your age don’t know their ass from their fuckin’ elbow, honeybun. Don’t take it too personal if he’s dumb enough to lose a gem like you.”

The corners of your lips twitched slightly at his words. Almost smiling by the time he had you up on your feet.

“Thanks, Tommy.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

You might’ve rolled your eyes when he pinched your cheek, but the water he held back up for you to drink looked far too appetizing, and you knew he meant well. You took the cup from him and started to chug.

Again, you’d almost made it through the whole refreshment when a sound threw you off. Abruptly.

“Where have you two lovebirds been?!” Tommy chirped.

You lowered your water and almost regurgitated again. Bile jumped up in your throat, and you just narrowly managed to keep it all down with a cough and a sputter.

Joel and Ms. Centerfold were at the far end of the deck.

Joel was tucking his dress shirt back into his pants.

Are you fucking kidding me?

“Gettin’ nasty on her daddy’s yacht? That’s bold,” Tommy cackled, nudging you playfully.

Your face was bloodless. Every last ounce of pretense and decorum had spilled out with your dinner, before, and now you were just staring at Joel blankly. Numb.

You watched him shove the last clump of his shirt under the waistband and straighten up slightly. The woman at his side flashed you and Tommy a blinding white smile.

“Might say the same for you,” she called back. She seemed to be eyeing you both with a half-curious look.

Tommy made a face as if to say ‘yuck—what the fuck?’ and threw his arm around you again, shaking you lightly.

“She’s like my little sister, Ashton. You’re fuckin’ gross.”

Little sister. Nice. Like a knife twisting inside your gut.

If Joel took any notice of the comment, he didn’t show it. He just stood there, dull and impassive as a loaf of bread. Every coarse lineament of his face was unreadable—just as bleak, bland, and uncaring as the eyes staring out of it. Then he fished around in his back pocket and pulled out his lighter and a pack of American Spirits. He passed the latter to Ashton and leaned over to give her a light.

Throwing yourself off the boat seemed like the most logical next move out of anything available to you.

That’s when you knew you were off your shit and needed to leave the bridge deck—immediately.

“Need a drink,” you mumbled, starting off the other way.

Tommy was hot on your heels, following fast after you.

“That’s— that’s actually the last thing you need, I think, sweetie. How ‘bout some lemonade?”

“Can you spike it with bleach?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Tommy followed you down the staircase straight through to the galley, past the throngs and pockets of partygoers crowding the main dining area. Hitting the bar was a bad idea—wait staff knew you well enough to sense when you were utterly trashed, sad, or both—so you slipped toward the wine cooler and quickly sidestepped Tommy.

“No! No way. Nuh-uh.” He was still trying to block your access to the fridge when you grabbed hold of the door.

“Hair of the dog, Thomas.”

“That’s not a thing. That’s— you just projectile vomited off the deck, dude. You need a breather.”

You stopped just long enough to let Tommy pry you off the refrigerator handle and back to the kitchen island. You were pissed off, sure, but also not nearly prepared for another drop of alcohol if you were being honest with yourself. Your head was still spinning when you sat down on the counter.

Once you were settled, Tommy got to rifling through the cabinets, and you pressed a hand to your forehead.

“So how long’s that been going on?” You couldn’t help it.

“Wha- oh, Joel and Ash?” Tommy hummed from deep inside a cupboard. He came out with a small blue box.

You winced at the nickname. Watched him go from the pantry to the sink, fill a glass halfway, find a spoon, and tear the box in two, along with a couple chalky tablets.

“They’ve been…weird.” The sentence was punctuated with a pinch of his brow and a frown. He started stirring.

“Weird how?”

Your feet were dangling over the edge of the island; you pretended to gain a sudden interest in a smudge on the toe of your shoe.

“Weird like…I don’t know,” Tommy tossed the spoon in the sink and turned back to you. Holding out the cup, “They’ve been ‘friendly’ for years—Ash is a coworker of ours—and Joel swears it’s nothing more…but I dunno.”

He ended his speech again with that weird intonation and grimace, like he wasn’t so sure if he believed what he was saying himself, then shook his head and shrugged. He watched you take a sip of the Alka-Seltzer and urged you to get the whole thing down. It tasted like shit.

“Christ, that’s salty,” you coughed.

You didn’t want to keep going, but Tommy tipped the glass back in your hand and made you finish.

“It’ll help with your stomach,” he said before strolling over to the caterers’ fridge to look for bland food options.

“So if they’re not a thing, why’d he bring her here?”

You didn’t care what Tommy thought of your questions. He knew you were eager to hear the tea in any situation.

You watched as your friend procured a hand of bananas and some bread. He gave the fruit to you and took the bread over to the toaster, where he dropped in two slices. You couldn’t quite tell if he was contemplating an answer, didn’t want to spill, or hadn’t heard the question at all. He snagged a plate and a butter knife while you peeled apart your snack, silently dying to know the truth.

At length, Tommy shrugged. Again.

“‘Cause Joel’s a goddamn drama queen and doesn’t know what he wants, I s’pose,” he said.

Ain’t that the truth.

Then, after a minute:

“Had his panties in a wad ever since he went to Boston.”

You stiffened hearing that. You couldn’t pretend to be invested in your shoe scuff, the floor, or the food in your hand any longer. Your eyes flitted up to Tommy to see if his expression had shifted any.

It hadn’t—he was just looking for strawberry jam.

“You hitched a ride home with him then, didn’t you?” he asked casually.

You swallowed and nodded. You watched Tommy retrieve the two freshly-warmed pieces of toast that jumped up to greet him and, having found the jam he wanted, slapped them both on a plate and lathered them up. You muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ as he slid them over.

You were almost too scared to ask more questions, but you knew you had to find out. About Joel, Ashton, anything Tommy might’ve gleaned about your trip home from Boston. You found you could hardly sit in one place and had to step off the counter to eat your food.

“Joel’s been, uhh…how do Gen Z’s say it? Trippin’ balls?” Tommy reached for a banana himself and started in.

“Tweaking,” you corrected him.

“Tweakin’, yeah. Joel’s been a real fuckin’ tweaker lately.”

“In what way?”

“Just…shuttin’ himself in is all. Wouldn’t talk to me or your dad or anybody for days after he got back. Didn’t show up for our monthly Bingo matchup at Mando’s—and he hasn’t missed one of those in almost six years.”

You pursed your lips, equally mystified. You knew just how seriously your dad and his friends took those games—how rare it was for Joel to turn down any opportunity to drink, play Star Wars-themed Bingo, and shoot the shit with his buddies over Coors Light and cheese curds. You took another bite and waited for Tommy to continue.

“And there’s— there was this…thing he— I dunno.”

Suddenly, it seemed your friend had lost the power of coherent speech, and he was rubbing the back of his neck, flashing a half-sheepish smile, and shaking his head. Contemplating whether he should share something with you and ultimately deciding against it.

You raised both eyebrows.

“What?”

“Nah, it’s dumb, really.”

“Tell me.” You took a far-too-large bite of your banana and had some trouble getting it down.

“Well, he…” Tommy trailed off, shifting his gaze from yours to take a look at his own shoe, for a second, “When me and your dad were riding with Joel to a work site…we, uh…found a box of Plan B in his glove compartment.”

Half-chewed banana and toast almost flew across the room while you spluttered and choked and just barely managed to cover your mouth to keep it all in.

“Right? Threw me for a loop, too,” Tommy grinned as you beat your chest with a fist and fought to keep yourself breathing, “Your dad damn near had a baby when he picked that little box and those booty shorts up himself.”

When he what?! You wanted to scream, just picturing your straight-laced, conservative father flipping a Plan B box between his hands, in shock, and then…your shorts—when the fuck had you taken your shorts off again?

Right, when you were busy trying to scoop some more of Joel’s jizz from your cunt as he raced you both to CVS.

Good times.

You held your hair back and leaned over the sink, spitting two more chunks of banana and bread down the drain. Tommy reached around behind you for the spigot and filled another glass with water as he tried not to laugh.

“Easy, now,” he said, patting your back like he’d done for you before, “Joel didn’t happen to mention this lady friend to you now, did he?”

“No,” you choked. You wiped your mouth clear of any spit and food residue and slowly blinked down into the sink, feeling an old wave of nausea begin to settle over you. Accepted the new glass of water from Tommy and hoped he wouldn’t notice the tremor in your hand as you did.

The man seemed completely oblivious. Still standing close behind you, Tommy rubbed circles in your back and leaned a little closer.

“Death cup really got ya, huh?” He smirked, and you realized then that he very much was like an older brother. This whole situation with Joel was fucked on so many levels and would be fucked tenfold if Tommy ever found out.

You turned around and felt yourself steadied between two warm, broad palms—‘Wanna sit? Lie down?’—and then you were shaking your head, reaching for another banana and trying like hell to seem semi-composed, though every neuron in your brain was firing away at a million miles per second and your legs were feeling like scrambled eggs.

“I’m okay.”

“Yeah?”

Suddenly, one of Tommy’s hands had moved up to brush a few strands of hair from your face, and you felt your skin radiating raw heat. A deep-seated anxiety, too.

He’s going to find out—what if he already knows?

What if Joel tells Tommy?

What if Tommy tells dad?

Your mind was reeling, on fire, still working in earnest to find something to tell your friend to say you were fine, just dizzy, and definitely not fucking his big brother.

Your brain was drawing blank after blank after blank.

Just then, a clatter sounded nearby. Both of you jumped.

When you shot a look to the source of the intrusion, you nearly folded into Tommy from secondhand humiliation.

“Nice hands, feet,” the younger Miller called over to Joel, who was currently trying to recover the dozen-odd pots and pans he’d knocked over at the threshold of the room. You stared at the two in a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and disgust—the latter reserved exclusively for Joel.

You set your drink down, held your hand over your stomach, and pretended to head for the bathroom.

“Be right back,” you muttered, brushing past both men.

You knew you wouldn’t be back at all if you could help it.

Still clutching your banana in one hand and your raucously churning tummy in the other, you climbed the galley stairs fast to get back up to the bridge deck. You almost tripped over both your heels trying to make it up the steps so quick, desperate for solitude and quiet.

Another hair metal hit from the ‘80s was playing overhead, but fortunately, the deck was free of people. You stumbled over to one of the catering tables, looking helplessly for something that might settle your belly, but no, this sickness was coming straight from your head—from that insufferable munch of a man, Joel Miller.

You gingerly approached the railing behind the table and prepared yourself for another round of dry heaving.

You rested both elbows on the metal, looked out toward the dark, glassy water beneath you, then hung your head in abject defeat. You slid your tongue across the roof of your mouth and waited for the vomit to come.

The only thing that followed were footsteps.

Heavy, thunderous sounds making their way up the stairs.

“Stay back, Tommy. Please.” You raised a hand to the man approaching softly behind you, not turning your head, “That Alka-Seltzer stuff didn’t work for shit.”

“Shoulda stuck to water, sweet pea.”

That made you pivot.

Not a quick tilt of the head or a twist to the side, but a full-fledged 180-degree spin on your heels, hand to your gut, what-the-FUCK-are-you-doing-here turnaround.

You stared ahead and felt sicker than you had all night.

Then, pointing one crooked, accusatory finger his way without thinking, you hardly knew or heard what you were saying before the words came out. It sounded a little something like, “Joel, you goddamn fucking idiot.”

Joel didn’t flinch.

In fact, he seemed supremely unfazed.

He just held your fuming gaze and frowned.

“You tryin’ to fuck my little brother or somethin’?”

Your hand had closed around your banana on the table before his words had hung in the air for even a second. You flung the fruit full-force at his head, enraged.

Unfortunately, you were drunk and your aim was shit. Your yellow boomerang-like weapon of choice barely made it within three feet of its target before it glanced off a light fixture and struck the ground with a thud.

Accuracy be damned, you weren’t quite done.

“You left the fucking Plan B out for my dad to find?!”

Just when Joel tried to answer, or perhaps hurl another accusation in your direction, you stuck your hand in the closest catering tray you could find—a serving of green peas, as it was. You lobbed a handful at the man as he started to draw closer, and this time, you managed to land a pretty hefty spray. Joel only rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t leave it there—you did,” he retorted.

“My shorts, too?!”

You grabbed another fistful of peas and threw it. Joel was able to dodge it right before making it to the other end of the table. He gripped the edges of the wood in both hands and stood stern—imposingly—opposite you.

“Your shorts, your fuckin’ problem, sweets.”

Just when you reached for another green pea projectile, he surprised you and made for the tray right beside it.

Shortly, a glob of garlic mashed potatoes struck the front of your dress and slid slow, almost sluggishly down the pristine pink silk fabric before falling at your feet. Joel’s aim was evidently much better than yours.

You brushed what chunks of food you could get off your chest and pinned him with a wide, incredulous look.

“You’re a Grade A fucking asshole, you know that?”

“You’re a bit of a shithead too, potato tits.”

“FUCK you!”

“Already DID!”

You would’ve flipped the whole table if it were in your power to do so. Would’ve toppled all the tables, kicked the chairs, took a lighter to the curtains and sent the goddamned yacht down in flames if you had to—that was how much you despised the man in front of you.

Instead, you threw your hands up and stormed off.

“Maybe I will fuck Tommy!” you barked as you started toward the stairs, “I’ll fuck your brother’s brains out, and you can screw Ashton all you want, how ‘bout that?”

You’d made it about two feet before Joel grabbed hold of one of your wrists and yanked you back. You didn’t hesitate to throw a gruff—and ultimately fruitless—punch that hit him square in the chest. He didn’t budge.

“You don’t mean that,” Joel sneered. He shook your whole frame with one simple flick of his forearm.

“I’ll tap your whole bloodline like a keg, Miller. Try me.”

Again, you tried to shake him off, but the hand only constricted around you tighter. Then it was walking you backwards, slowly, almost carefully, until your back was to a wall and your eyes were searching his, angry as ever.

“You’d break your daddy’s heart with that one,” Joel said just above you, voice lowered considerably.

“Yeah?” you challenged, “Maybe if I was less of a shithead I would care what my dad thought. But I’m not. So I won’t.”

“Wasn’t talkin’ about your father, darlin’.”

Joel was good.

He was an insufferable ass and he was good.

Then you remembered the radio silence over the past seven days and the fact that he may or may not have fucked someone else earlier that night—possibly right where you were standing—and he lost all appeal real quick. You shoved him hard in the chest once more.

“Don’t play that shit with me. You, of all people—” You made as if to read him the riot act but cut yourself short, deciding it wasn’t worth your time explaining human empathy to a man who believed bootcut jeans and all things Ely Cattleman were peak fashion, and just learned what ovulation was last week. Then, sliding along the wall and trying to head to the stairs again, you felt Joel’s leg slot between your own.

“What did I do?” he said, curious.

Before you could answer, his thigh had stirred in place, grazing lightly over the spot the hem of your minidress had exposed to him. You ignored it.

“Doesn’t matter,” was your non-answer.

Joel seemed intrigued by the ambiguity and only lowered his head to get closer to yours—‘Then why’re ya so mad you’re throwin’ dinner food at me, darlin’?’—puffing warm breaths on your neck and only smiling when you flinched back. He took your response as a cue to keep pressing, both figuratively and physically.

“Just wanted attention or somethin’? That what it is?” Joel’s voice was as saccharine as it was taunting, words paired with a hand circling light across your thigh. He wasn’t moving in, and it was tearing you to shreds inside.

“Fuck your attention, and fuck you, Joel.”

Words hardly reflecting how you felt internally.

Swiftly, then, the hand at your leg was raised to your face—cupping it with a bit more force than you expected. Joel’s grin stretched even wider.

“Attention and discipline,” he mused aloud, “Two things dad never gave his little girl growin’ up, I see.”

Before you could reply, he was squeezing your face even tighter and nodding his head, as if already anticipating your answer. Then, somehow lower, “Such a filthy mouth on her, too. Never knows when to keep it shut and how to be polite to someone who fucked her so nice already.”

You might’ve whimpered if you didn’t also want to throat punch the motherfucker and knee him in the balls. When Joel started stroking your cheek, you groaned instead, and you hoped he would hear it as chagrin, not arousal.

“I can help with both of those, y’know—” His thumb rubbed a little harder, and his leg moved up. You pressed your hands flat to his thigh to keep him from teasing, but the man would do no such thing to oblige you. In fact, he just shifted his leg back and forth…and back, again. A ripple of bliss from the friction sparked low inside you.

“I can give you attention, and I can scrub that mouth clean if that’s what you really need,” Joel continued, “Just say the word, darlin’.”

“Fucker.” That was your word.

And it worked well enough for Joel.

In the next instant, he had you half-carried, half-dragged across the deck and thrown onto the table where you’d lost that dreaded game of stack. Solo cups still littering the surface, and puddles of beer soaking in through your dress, you made a sound of disgust and tried to thrust yourself up, just to fail. You squirmed and swatted at the man standing in front of you, who easily kept you pinned to the surface with one palm laid calmly on your belly.

He reached into the back pocket of his trousers and retrieved his lighter and cigarette pack.

“Someone could catch us,” you hissed, helpless, unsure of what else to say to show you weren’t giving in just yet.

Joel lit up in four seconds flat. He sucked in a breath.

“I roped off the stairs coming up,” he replied.

He what?

You moved back, slowly, on the surface when Joel worked a hand to his belt buckle, and you heard half a dozen plastic cups fall to the floor behind you.

You would not be his date’s sloppy seconds—ever.

Joel yanked at your thighs and pulled you back to be straddling his hips, shrugging his pants down; you couldn’t bear to keep looking when he lowered his briefs.

He took another drag and eyed you hungrily, happy to see you all sprawled out and pretty before him. The tight fabric of your dress had cinched over your hips and left you bare to just panties, making him grow even harder.

“Joel.”

He worked his dick out of his pants and moved the head to trail slow along the seam of your barely-clothed cunt. Even through the lace, he could feel how wet you were. He notched the tip at the space where your panties had parted just slightly to the side and felt your arousal pool even wetter around the end of his member. He grunted.

“Joel, I—”

“Daddy’s gonna give ya attention, sugar. Hold still.”

You couldn’t. Wouldn’t. You splayed your fingers over the hand that was trying to guide his cock into you and clenched your jaw—every carnal fibre in your being telling you not to do what you were about to try anyway.

“You fucked her didn’t you?”

Joel flicked the ash off his cigarette, “No.”

“You brought her here.”

“Had to.”

Your face was flushed and likewise flooded with smoke, curling slow from Joel’s lips before it painted the air an opaque, muddied grey above you. You wriggled your hips away from his, and for once, he didn’t try to stop you.

“I saw you tucking your shirt in. Tommy said you fucked!”

“Tommy’s about one fry short of a Happy Meal, honey,” Joel puffed once more, “He’s always sayin’ shit like that.”

Incredibly, he’d managed to use about a dozen funny words in that old Texas lilt and still say so little to actually answer your question. When the pinch in your brow told him you weren’t quite satisfied, Joel let out a sigh.

“Ash spilled pebre on my shirt. I had to change.”

Oh.

“And you—” you started.

“—have no fuckin’ right to know, one way or the other, because you’re the one who said we’d just ‘fuck and forget it,’ remember?” Joel interrupted, reminding you of your own curt words from your Bronco boning session.

Again, you tried to speak and found yourself spoken for, Joel carrying on as casual as ever as he sucked the last life-breath from his cig and stared you down, cynically.

“Your dad’s the one who made me bring her tonight. Said I seemed ‘down’ since the last gal I fucked wasn’t around—I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was his daughter—and here we are,” Joel smiled, wryly, and flicked his cigarette into the lake. You would’ve liked to tell him littering was a crime that trashed us all but refrained.

You were too busy staring at his lips, wondering why he hadn’t kissed you yet. You reckoned all the pea flinging, swearing, and swinging might’ve played a small part.

At length, Joel slid a new American Spirit out of its pack and wrangled you back to his hips as he lit up again.

“Happy?” he said, after a beat.

You weren’t sure whether to nod or cross your arms. Beckon him in with both hands or kick his bunched-up pants, belt, and boxer briefs away altogether and keep the bratty act going. You didn’t like being wrong.

At any rate, it didn’t matter. He’d called you on your bluff.

Still smoking, still smiling, still happy as a clam at high tide, Joel pressed his length straight up to your folds and watched you squirm on the wood underneath him.

“Gonna listen now?” he hummed.

“Uh-huh.”

Good, his wretchedly deep brown eyes seemed to say. Good that you were here, good that you were spread wide and supine beneath him, good that you’d gone all soft and pliable under his touch and were watching him now with a look that said you’d let him do just anything.

Good that he could fuck you.

Great that he wasn’t planning to—not fully, anyway.

Joel wasted no time taking your answer in the affirmative to slip past your panties and push deep inside your sweet cunt. When your walls stretched and cried all around him, he sighed and gripped your legs even tighter. He gritted the cigarette between his teeth and brought your ankles to rest over his shoulders, sinking in even deeper. Then he had to hold steady inside you and keep you flat on the table in front of him, and just when you whined to fuck me now, Joel, fuck me right now, daddy, please, he stilled. He took a big, long drag and didn’t move an inch.

He’d teach you some discipline one way or another.

“Joel, please,” you groaned again, hands bracing the table to start fucking up and down on his shaft, before he put a stop to that fast and held you firmly in place, “Please, Joel, I need you so fucking bad, daddy, please.”

Joel tapped his ash to the side and ignored your pleas.

He felt your walls contract around him and tried not to grunt. He focused instead on the smoke overhead.

“Wanna say that nicer?” he asked, deadpan. Then, staring expectantly down at you, while you flushed and struggled to stay still, “Keep that mouth a little cleaner?”

Fuck, did he have that father-figure tone down to a T.

You laid there before him and almost forgot his cock was wedged inside you for a second. He seemed so sincere.

“I wan— want you to move, daddy, I-I-I don’t know how else to say i— FUCK!” Your pussy spasmed around him when the tip of his pubic bone grazed your clit. That squeaky clean mouth of yours was nowhere to be seen.

“Mhmm,” Joel nodded anyway, pretending to be observing your behavior as he might for a clinical trial. Like he was testing a new drug, not his dick inside your cunt, practically clenching in Morse code around him.

“Can ya try that one more time, sweet pea? For daddy?”

You could. Try, anyway. Controlling your tongue while he was buried so deep inside you seemed to be a far harder task than you could’ve ever expected, though.

Joel sensed it. Feeling a twinge of pity, he leaned over your body and dug his hips even deeper—not thrusting, but still granting some modicum of friction. The hot, heavy throb of his girth pulsed inside you like your own fucking heartbeat, and your eyes rolled back.

“Fucking shitsucking DICK BITCH CUNT! FUCK!”

Sounding every bit the uncouth novice in a COD lobby chat circa 2009, you knew you didn’t have the faintest hope of earning Joel’s strokes now. You hated yourself for it—and Joel, too, for subjecting you to such cruel and unusual punishment for just needing to fuck him hard.

You were desperate and heated. Five seconds away from yanking your sex off of his and going to town with your own fingers, you felt a palm press down on your tummy.

Damn Joel and his super-sized hands.

You could barely breathe, much less pry yourself off.

Joel was quiet and calm. Stuffing you full and puffing away at his cigarette the whole time. He smirked.

“Ain’t that difficult, honey,” he said, hardly losing his will or his sympathy when you shot a raw glance his way, “Stay still on this cock and ask daddy nicely, ‘s’all ya gotta do.”

He could tell by the look in your eyes you couldn’t stand to play nice—but needed to cum. He watched you swallow your pride, soften your eyes just a bit, and when you felt you might implode from all the feeling, whined,

“Please make me feel good, daddy, please, I need it.”

Joel breathed and eased back just an inch, lowering his hand to thumb softly at your clit. You keened.

“That’s my sweet girl.”

Still just rubbing that bundle and looking down while you came unraveled, Joel thought you perfectly sublime. He’d kill to keep you there like that, eyes rolling and skin soaking the table beneath you both in sweat and arousal. He stared down at the place your bodies were connected—a sliver of his cock visible and soaked with your juices—and he felt a wave of desire crest over his mind. Panting, quietly, he brought one hand to your hip and kept the other working furiously over your clit, trying to ignore the urge to rut inside you. It was self-discipline for him, too.

He wouldn’t let you know that yet, though.

He crushed the cigarette between his teeth and kept still.

“Ya like that, sugar? Like daddy stuffed inside this pussy, makin’ ya beg real pretty for me?” His husky Southern drawl ran like molasses off his tongue, thicker now when he was balls-deep and half-drunk off your cunt.

You watched his mouth, intrigued, and saw a long line of spit drip deliciously from those pretty, stubbled lips of his to your lower ones, making the spot more filthy and warm as your fluids mixed together. Still, Joel didn’t move a thing more than his thumb—but the sounds from you both were growing louder and more desperate.

The gentle squelch of spit, sweat, and arousal running all down your pussy, paired with those noises you made when you were feeling this good and squeezing him tight, was enough to send Joel straight over the edge. Now he didn’t have the strokes or any motion to focus on before him, just you—he flicked his cigarette away the second he sensed you were getting close yourself.

“Sweet little thing,” he cooed, still rubbing in circles, “How’s my baby feelin’?”

You clawed at the table beneath you and knocked your head back once or twice on the wood, humming a quick, ‘Good, daddy, good’ in the most hoarse and pathetic voice you’d ever used, and Joel smiled. You hadn’t cursed out loud in a minute and seemed to be taking his touches well. He’d have to give you some form of reward.

Gently, Joel pulled back and made a shallow thrust inside you. Both your body and his jolted with pleasure.

“FU—n stuff, fun stuff,” you hissed, trying hard to mask the expletive.

In truth, Joel was struggling too. Just one stroke inside you and that coil inside him was about ready to burst.

“Fun, huh?” he teased, keeping his motions down to quick pistons as he laid his palms flat on either side of your head, “Daddy make ya feel fun-ny, does he?”

“Yeah, he does, he— ah, SHIT right there, right there!”

Evidently, he’d found your G spot.

Joel stilled inside you as soon as the foul word escaped.

You whined. Loud. Almost tempted to burst into tears.

“Nononono, that doesn’t count, Joel! That doesn’t—” Your voice was shortly supplanted by a whimper when the man went back to thumbing your clit, hips rendered still once more and cock wedged deep inside your core.

“What’s it gonna take to make you behave for me, huh? Do I have to talk to your daddy again?” Joel seethed.

You shook your head quick and felt him circle your clit even harder, more punishing now. Your body craved the friction from his cock but could barely contain the words that were coming out now. You pinched your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm creeping closer and closer, and whimpered gently, desperately, ‘Fuckfuckfuuuuuck.’

Whether it came down to making terrible plays at stack cup or getting your clit torn apart by Joel’s thumb, you simply could not keep the filthy language at bay.

You weren’t going to listen, that much was clear.

Joel had no choice but to make you learn a different way.

So, prying his fingers and his cock from your cunt, he reached across for your hips instead—pulling you off of the table and pushing you down to the floor, at his feet.

He smoothed a palm over the top of your head and fisted your hair in one hand, his cock in the other, and brought his hot, swollen, slick-coated length within an inch of your face, stroking fast.

Your gaze flitted from the sight in front of you to Joel’s eyes, back and forth, stunned and in utter disbelief. As you felt your own climax crumble and recede from you at once, the sound jumped up your throat before you could stop,

“What the FUCK is your problem, Joel?!”

“There it is,” Joel just flared his nostrils as he jerked himself above you, “There’s that nasty fuckin’ mouth.”

He pulled your head even rougher and tipped your chin back to meet the scowl on his face. Pleasure had almost swallowed the man whole, yet his expression scarcely betrayed a trace of it, eyes cold and jaw clenched tight.

“If that mouth can’t be good for me, can it open real wide and show me how a dirty slut does it?”

You were beside yourself. Holding his gaze like a bomb might go off in his brain any second—something you’d be happy to see—you scowled as well. Begrudgingly, and knowing Joel wouldn’t ease off of this punishment until he’d made you pay for your language, you nodded.

“What’s’at?” Joel snapped, stroking himself even faster, “What do ya want me to do, sugar?”

You gritted your teeth and silently wished they were crushing his balls to powder between them.

“Want…you…to cum…on my face.”

“Little louder, sweet pea, can’t hear ya from up here.”

The sound of his palm working over his cock again and again, shimmery and slick with your arousal soaking it, was almost too much to bear. You watched, forlorn and silently boiling with rage as Joel stared down at you, as merciless as he’d ever been. Mocking, almost, it seemed.

“Want you to…cum on me, please.”

“One more time, darlin’,” Joel pressed, pupils blown wide with desire, “Be real sweet and say it one more time f—”

“I WANT YOU TO CUM ON MY FACE, YOU FUCKER.”

That sparked the first real smile on Joel’s lips you’d seen in a while, and then he was watching you cockily, nodding.

Before you could even think to blink, stand up, or storm off again, you felt a fat, sticky-wet glob of warmth hit your cheek. Then another. Then another. Then another. You winced and flinched back, but Joel held your head in place, in front of his cock, and gripped you firmly as he unloaded rope after rope of his cum all over your face.

By the time he was finished, your skin was glistening. Coated in the stuff and still blinking through strings of the hot, sticky mess as Joel stood over you, chest heaving fast as he pumped himself through his release.

Must be fucking nice.

When the downpour had slowed to a trickle, two thick fingers swiped at a dollop of cum on your cheek. Then, wordlessly, they moved down to your mouth.

“Open,” Joel commanded.

You’d barely parted your lips a quarter of an inch when he pushed both digits inside. Swirled them around in your mouth and made sure to cover every soft, wet contour and crevice before pulling out with a pop.

He wiped at your other spend-streaked cheek and repeated the action, plunging his fingers in and out of your mouth to make sure you cleaned him thoroughly. This was more of an act meant to tease than anything else, you knew, almost demeaning in the way he stood there and nodded his head while murmuring, ‘’Atta girl.’

You hated how much you liked that stupid show of dominance—and, even worse, how good he tasted.

Joel brushed your tongue with another fingerful and watched you bob your head in time. He hummed his approval and scanned your face for any spend left over.

There was a lot. He paused, as if considering something.

“Drop ‘em.” Joel motioned to the straps of your dress.

You did as he said and pulled both bands down at once. When your breasts spilled out of the fabric, you watched Joel lower his gaze and, fixating on the spot you’d just exposed to him, take two—no, three—careful fingers to collect the remainder of himself and spread it downward.

Joel took his cum and smeared it all over your tits.

He was equal parts meticulous, gentle, and gratuitous in doing so, and he took pleasure in every second.

With a heavy-lidded, glossy gaze trained unwaveringly on your chest, Joel rolled each nipple between forefinger and thumb and fell into a trance. Rubbed you up and down every inch he could find and groaned at the sight. Glazing your skin all over with him and savoring it.

You couldn’t deny the feeling of being marked in a way so degrading, dirty, and adoring at once had a dizzying effect on you, too. The look in his eyes, and the soft brush of his fingers, almost quelled your rage entirely.

Almost.

When Joel pulled your spaghetti straps back into place—and you, in turn, back onto your feet—you yanked away. Forcefully. While Joel straightened up, silently cursed his bad back, tucked his dick in his pants, and started to reach for your waist, you jabbed the fastest, fattest, fuck-your-whole-family middle finger in his face and took off.

“Honey—”

“Don’t.”

“But I—”

“Have some goddamn fucking nerve.”

You’d nearly made it to the staircase again, heels turning to start down the first steps, when Joel sidestepped at lightning speed and blocked off your passage. All you saw then was the front of a starch white dress shirt and a light patch of chest hair peeking out from the highest button, crowding your vision, moving in time with every manoeuvre you tried to make around him. He smelled like sweat and fresh citrus. Perhaps a hint of vengeance.

You wouldn’t meet his gaze when he grabbed your face. Tried to shrug him off when he made as if to pull you into a hug—‘Are you off your shit?! Are you?! People are right downstairs’—and Joel just smiled. Grinned like a jackass eating briars, about five times too smug for his own good, and drew you into his chest by gentle turns.

You weren’t sure why you recoiled when he kissed you.

Hell, you’d done it a dozen times before—albeit a bit more frantically, in a way to say ‘I need to fuck you’ when words just wouldn’t suffice—but this one was different. Deeper. Joel was gripping both sides of your face and still grinning as he kissed you, feeling your muscles slacken some and your frame meld gently into his.

You hated it.

“I missed you,” Joel murmured between kisses.

Hated him.

“How’s my baby been, huh?”

Oh, you know, just waiting. Hating you a little. Hoping we didn’t inadvertently create a baby ourselves, courtesy of your prehistoric condoms.

“I missed you.” Gently. Again.

You tensed in his hold when his lips trailed down to your neck. You felt a low flutter. It was like your feet had been glued to the floor and your tongue left wholly immobile; you let Joel caress, kiss, and whisper down your skin like every cell beneath his touch wasn’t seething en masse.

Your stolen climax. Broken condom. Close call with your father and Tommy. Radio silence ongoing for days.

You couldn’t wrap your head around any of it, or him, or how grossly inconsistent the man’s every move upon you now seemed to be with the way he’d acted all week.

Joel slowly descended your body.

“Like I said, honey…you fuck with my head,” he said soft against your dress, then your legs, then the space in between them.

“Makes two of us,” you grumbled back.

You braced your weight against the railing over the stairs just behind you when he slipped your panties to the floor. Then he tucked them snug into one of his back pockets and brought his face to your wet, aching core.

“Discipline doesn’t come easy, does it?” It sounded like something trapped between a question and a declarative coming out from the side of Joel’s mouth.

Fortunately for you, he didn’t try to clarify which of the two he meant, or do much else at all except eat your pussy from that point on. He kissed your thighs, gripped them tighter, then wedged his face between them while you held fast to the metal behind you. You stifled a moan when his tongue traced over the seam of your cunt.

You didn’t have to like the man to love what his mouth could do for you, you silently reminded yourself.

Love it you could—and would. Without shame.

Granted, you were still sensitive as all hell from your last almost-orgasm of the night, but Joel knew how to work his lips and tongue around it. He swiftly lapped between your folds, teased a finger at your hole, and wrapped his warm lips around your clit to suck once or twice, and you were damn near ready to spiral in seconds. You fisted the soft salt-and-pepper hair at the top of his head and rutted your hips in short, shallow motions against him.

“Good girl,” Joel crooned, welcoming each thrust with another swirl of his tongue, “That’s my sweet baby.”

“Joel.”

You traded expletives for the simple repetition of his name, not wanting the pleasure to stop. Joel hummed and sucked and held your legs around him even tighter.

You sighed, almost whined, and dug your fingertips into his scalp, feeling your climax building quick inside you.

Joel’s mouth was working faster, sucking harder, drawing smaller and crueler circles, lapping eagerly against your arousal and giving it everything he had, it seemed, to work you up to your release. He grunted when you yanked hard on his hair but didn’t stop.

In fact, the bastard just kept trying to talk you through it, fluid movements of his own tongue and lips be damned.

“Doin’ so damn good for me, sweet pea, keep goin’.” There was an apology in there somewhere, working hard to atone for the orgasm he’d denied you right before.

Four more flicks of his tongue and a gentle endeavor to pump his fingers in and out, again and again, right above that soft, spongy pad of pleasure deep inside had you teetering over the edge of a cliff.

You tore your gaze from Joel for a second, preparing for that sweet and lusty consummation, when your head turned to the side just slightly. You almost groaned.

Your own hot, flushed, and fucked-out reflection was the first thing to greet you in a sliver of a mirror on the wall. Just beneath you, as you could’ve expected, there was Joel—kneeling between your legs with his chin tipped up, beard coated in moisture and pleasure and warmth. You weren’t sure why the sight from this angle had such a strong effect, but something about the full view of your bodies in motion gave your stomach a pinch. A burn. You ogled the glass and made a sound audibly higher in pitch than a whimper as Joel suckled and tongued at your clit.

You came just like that—gripping the rails, fisting his hair, rutting your hips, and staring implacably at that mirror.

When Joel resurfaced, you were still fully transfixed.

Gawking at how fucking nice he looked between your thighs. How filthy it all was to be seated on his face and cumming for his tongue while the rest of your father’s dinner party mingled blissfully unaware downstairs.

When you saw Joel rise, you jerked your head back.

You weren’t sure why it felt like being caught, but it did.

Just as you began to murmur some half-assed apology his way, you felt hands on your hips and a rock-hard bulge at your rear as Joel spun you round in front of him.

He shoved you flush against the mirror so your tits were pressed up to the glass. He gave you a quick once-over.

Slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders and shimmied the fabric down your chest, once again.

With your breasts splayed out in front of you and your hands pressing hard on the mirror—as if letting up the slightest bit might send you straight through it—you tried to crane your neck. You felt the sticky squelch of cum and fresh spit painted over your chest, muddying up the glass with every movement you made. Your chin dug deep in your shoulder as you cocked your head to the left, eyes searching for Joel’s behind you.

You heard the clink of a belt, followed by a rustle of fabric. Then a hand slamming close beside your head on the mirror, while another worked industriously to free his cock from the confines of his trousers once more.

“Joel,” you breathed, still tender from your climax.

“Hm?”

He was gruff as he rubbed and smacked your bare ass with his cock. Let it rest on the soft, fleshy shelf between you two and teased his length over that space.

“Did someone take his little blue pill today?” you teased.

“Fuck off.” You saw a flicker of a smirk in the mirror.

No way Joel Miller was getting a full-fledged erection twice in the same ten minute span. That shit didn’t happen outside the realm of porn flicks and a woman’s wildest fantasies when it came to men Joel’s age. He knew it just as well as you but tried to feign indifference when he pressed the head of himself to your folds. He did, however, suck in a breath at the new sensation.

He could do this.

He could cockwarm you raw, tonguefuck your cunt, ravage and render you all but brainless on the surface of that mirror, and still have the wits about himself to take another breath. He could show those shit-for-brains college boys he’d been battling for days in the depths of his mind how much better he could fuck you than them.

Really, Joel was just manifesting at this point.

He hadn’t busted a nut and fucked this quick since Bill Clinton had been in office. All hat and no cattle whatsoever for this pussywhipped cowboy.

“Better hope I go easy on ya, sugar.”

“Best believe I won’t.” You would’ve winked if you weren’t so bone-crushingly aroused and fresh off your peak.

Joel had just chuckled, more than a touch nervous, and began rubbing your warmth to coat himself in it—angling his slightly apprehensive penis up to your cunt when you straightened some. Rather than keep your tits to the mirror, you chose to press your back against him, ass snug to his front and eyes roaming wildly over the reflection of your two forms. Both of you flinched when the head of his cock hitched around your entrance.

Joel’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat just over your shoulder. He pressed a kiss to your skin.

“Gotta be the sweetest thing I ever seen,” he whispered into your ear. Meeting your gaze in the mirror and lifting his hips just so before breaching your folds.

He hoped you’d take it for sweetness and not just a vicious strain of anxiety or weakness as he prepared for the first thrust. He’d need a second, a minute—maybe a goddamned hour, if he was being real honest. You were too damn pretty to be fucked by a two-pump chump.

Joel nudged his nose against your ear and tried to stall. Pausing a beat.

“Never been humped and dumped before, yaknow.”

Wait—the fuck?

That came out wrong.

You cocked a brow and tilted your hips. You didn’t seem keen on talking but had no choice but to humor him.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” you hummed.

Joel balked at his own stupidity, trying, and failing, to remove his foot from his mouth and remedy his words.

“I mean, I— I get it,” he returned, too fast for his liking, “I’m no texter myself, I just…thought, uh, maybe—”

“Miller. Spit it out.”

Your body was all but leaking arousal before him and the man was trying to divert the conversation to…phones?

Joel winced.

Felt his member deflate with embarrassment just a bit.

NO! No. No. Just…fuck. Stay hard. Please, stay hard.

He’d done it to himself. Tried to hamper sex for a second too long just to give his dick a fighting chance at survival and ended up mucking things up supremely. Per usual.

“You never texted me back.” He sounded blunt now. Rushed.

Joel watched you raise both eyebrows.

“Texted you back?” you scoffed.

“Yeah…texted, called, snipchatted, whatever.”

Your face didn’t change despite the glaring Gen X error.

“You never texted me, Joel!”

What?

Suddenly, the dick wedged between your legs and hovering over your cunt seemed to be the last thing either of you could be bothered to worry about.

“I’ve…been texting you all week. Called a few times too.”

“Like hell you have. You ghosted me and went off the grid this whole fuckin’ week—Tommy said so, too.”

Joel cringed again to hear his brother’s name brought up in this context and shook his head. You were wrong.

“512-867-5309. Been trying to talk to you all goddamn week, see how you were, and you never responded,” he said, indignation creeping into his tone against his will.

At last, your expression dropped.

From furious to frowning to just fucking annoyed. Your lips were drawn tight in a line across your face.

“My number is 512-867-5305, dipshit.”

“Huh?”

“5 at the end, not a 9.”

“…No.”

“Yeah…”

Shit.

Joel Miller had made his fair share of flubs in his life, but fucking up the phone number of his best friend’s daughter whose pussy he’d accidentally cum inside the week before seemed almost criminal. Too fucking asinine and rookie-level dense to ever recover from. He blinked.

“Thought you…hated my fuckin’ guts,” he confessed.

You threw your hands up in disbelief, frustration. Fury.

“I do— believe me, I do,” you snapped, “But not for that.”

‘That’ meaning the last time you two bumped uglies. Joel wasn’t sure whether to take heart or step back.

“What’s’at mean?” he asked.

You pushed your feet a little further apart on the floor and pressed back into Joel. He took that as a decidedly good sign and reached for your hip. Then took his cock, again, which had invariably twitched and swelled up at the smallest motion from you.

“Means we’ve got plenty of reasons to hate each other, but fuckin’ ain’t one of ‘em,” you shrugged, angling your ass in the perfect place for penetration. Joel was just about back to full-mast and buzzing as you spoke, “I can get over the whole…old dude taboo—you being dad’s friend and all—I just couldn't stand the thought of you leaving me in the lurch when shit got weird at the end.”

‘Weird’ meaning risky. Virulent. Damn near catastrophic if it ever came to be that one of Joel's swimmers had latched onto one of your eggs and knocked you up. The fear of pregnancy, and every bloodcurdling, awkward conversation to ensue, had been amplified tenfold by the thought that Joel didn't even care one way or the other and couldn't be bothered to text, call, or otherwise show that he didn't totally regret what you'd done in his car. You could handle a clean break, but leaving it on such uncertain terms had been torture. At length, you sighed.

Joel was nosing behind your ear now, a bit less tense.

A little more laid-back and warm this time around, as he, like you, had gotten to exhale a breath of relief realizing that neither of you had deliberately tried to fuck the other over, or ghost, just yet. You'd been pissed at him all night, and he'd been busy barraging a perfect stranger somewhere in Austin with strings of texts and calls all week, but the two of you were ultimately OK. For now.

“But you still hate me, huh?” Joel spoke low against your skin and felt you soften just a little.

You nodded, careful not to slacken too much.

“Mhmm.”

Now Joel was almost glad to have taken that brief, heated detour, because his dick had made a complete comeback and was aching to tease you some more. He grabbed the base of his length and slotted it slow as ever between your folds. Rolled his hips forward and pushed you both a little closer to the mirror. One of your hands flew up to steady yourself, and Joel’s hand followed. He laid his palm over the back of yours and pressed in.

“It’d be a real shame if you do,” he said, smirking as he notched the tip of his cock just within the tight ring of muscles at the groove of your cunt, “For a second there I was starting to think you might’ve liked fucking me, too.”

In the next second, Joel was easing inside you. Feeling you arch into the motion and grabbing hold wherever he could across your front, he pulled you into his chest and felt a streak of coarse pleasure lick up the full length of his spine. Your walls were squeezing him in a brand new way, a novel position, and he was starting to fear there wasn't any place he could fuck you that wouldn't send him veering for release within his first two strokes inside.

He bucked his hips a little something like an amateur, he thought, getting used to taking you like this. You were moaning, holding his fingers between your own atop the mirror as you squeezed your pussy tight around his cock, and he hoped that meant you hadn't minded the few stuttered, desperate strokes he'd delivered at first.

“I love…fucking you, Joel,” you seethed at last.

Then, wordless as it was pointed, finding his gaze in your reflection, ‘I still hate you, Miller. There’s a difference.’

He slammed into your ass and quickly got the sense that you liked it this fast—loving, lusting, or despising him otherwise. Almost needed it a bit frantic and rapid-fire when he was fucking you from the back, he reckoned.

Joel looked you in the eye from his view behind you in the mirror and saw it clear as day. He almost grinned.

You were wildly fucked out and in need of quick release.

For once in his life, he could oblige you on that, easy.

He slid his cock in and out, rutting much quicker than he ever thought you’d want it, and he grunted. Slipped a hand between your thighs and felt you pulse around him, involuntarily, when his fingers found your clit. He could tell by that grip, and those febrile little whimpers, that you were loving this just as much as him and probably were as close, if not closer, to a new, shuddering climax.

Joel plunged deep inside your cunt and drew you closer.

Taking your throat in one hand, he nudged your body into the glass and smirked, drunk with the feel of you.

“Ya like it when I fill this pussy, huh? Love feeling me deep inside this needy little hole?” he murmured, slow and taking care to draw out the syllables in each word.

You nodded that you did. Rocked your hips back to meet his thrusts and moaned.

“I love it, daddy,” you managed weakly, “Love it so much.”

The fingers at your clit increased in speed, and Joel rutted into you even harder, relishing the soft squelch between your bodies as he moved. Then he reached for a fistful of your hair and, instead of pulling back like he might normally have done, he pushed in. He pressed your face in the mirror, turned to the side, and pistoned his hips even faster. Felt your moans spill out across the glass and mix with his own, and he couldn’t help but let a raw, primal impulse take over his thrusts—and tongue.

“You make the prettiest fuckin’ noises, y’know that?” Joel breathed, hunched over and close to your ear.

Before you could so much as acknowledge his praises, bob your head, or moan in response, he shifted the hand in your hair again. This time turning your face toward the mirror, he brought your lips within inches of the glass and made you watch him fuck you, again and again.

You trailed your gaze over your full reflection and almost whined out loud, ripe with desire and ready to cum just seeing how good he looked as he took you from behind.

With his brow furrowed, pupils blown, hair a fucking mess, lips parting slightly with the strain of every grunt and moan, and hips rolling repeatedly, furiously into your own, Joel looked about as handsome as you thought you’d ever seen him. You felt the soft nudge of his tummy behind you, the tightened grip on your hip and in your hair, and within seconds, you were nearly there.

“My pretty. fuckin’. girl—” Joel managed through gritted teeth, each word punctuated with a thrust, “—and her pretty. fuckin’. moans.” Then, bringing his beaming, sweaty expression right next to yours in the mirror, “Ready to cum for me, pretty girl?”

You curled your toes into the floor and nodded, slotting your fingers through his own when he planted a hand above you again,

“So— so close, daddy.”

Joel squeezed your fingers back. Kept your faces damn near side-by-side in the mirror and relished the marked change in your features when he grazed that spot inside. You let out the filthiest, fuckdrunk moan and didn’t need another stroke—you came around his cock with a tight, pulsing spasm, seizing his hand, rocking your hips back into his hard as the pleasure washed over your body.

Joel’s cock absorbed every last delicate throb, hot and heavy enough to send the man spiraling himself. He braced his front tight against your body and kept fucking you through your release, groaning a vicious, desperate bout when he felt that deep-seated urge to spill his seed.

Fuck. He’d have to pull out. Now.

Just as his own climax was close at hand—close as he could ever, or should ever feel it while still inside you—Joel reached down for your hip to pull out and cum all over your ass, but he was brought to a stop. Swiftly.

To his surprise, it was you pulling off of him—sliding off his cock and dropping to your knees as if to take him in your mouth.

Thank fuck.

Joel grabbed his dick as quick as he possibly could and moved to start stroking himself over your face, when your hand closed around his own. Stopping him. Again.

You grinned.

Feeling the slightest twinge of retributive pleasure at seeing him like this, just like he’d had you, your smile stretched even bigger. Joel could’ve wept at the sight.

You brought your lips to his cock and grazed it, barely.

“Wanna try something fun?”

He knew better than to let a moan slip at a time like this.

Not when he was sitting at the dinner table; not when he was surrounded by the people he knew and loved the most. Not when he was celebrating his best friend’s fifty-first birthday, and certainly not when that man’s daughter was currently perched between his thighs, out of sight from every eye at the party but his.

Joel lifted the tablecloth. He almost came on the spot.

This was your idea of ‘fun.’

Payback by any other name would’ve smelled as sweet.

Seeing your mouth open wide and your lips curled tight around his hot, throbbing member, Joel couldn’t help but ache for reprieve, or else a split-second lapse of judgment—one where he forgot all sense of decorum and simply went to town on that pretty little face of yours. But, as it was, the rest of the party was totally oblivious to your absence, and he didn’t want to draw attention to it, or him, by roughfucking your mouth.

That would come later.

No, now he would let you glide your mouth gently over his shaft, leaving trails of thick spit and hints of a shiny pink lip gloss in its wake. He’d let you bob your head softly—self-assured in a pace you got to set—and he wouldn’t lay a finger on your face or let a thrust of his get in the way, because this was all about you giving him the pleasure. Maybe making him squirm just a little, too.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t steal a glimpse every now and then and pin you with an expectant look when he wanted something done his way. The room was dimly lit and everyone in it drunk; Joel would gladly take the risk.

‘You can go deeper than that, sweet pea.’

‘Nope, three-fourths ain’t enough, I need your mouth around me whole.’

‘You did wanna make daddy feel good, didn’t ya, sugar?’

He didn’t have to speak a word of it out loud for you to know what he meant. What he needed. You loosened your jaw and stretched your lips even wider, whining just a little when the head of his cock grazed your tonsils.

“Fuck that feels nice,” Joel said aloud.

You froze.

Then, without missing a beat, you heard him continue just as comfortably, speaking to the people around him,

“Y’all feel that breeze comin’ in?”

Sick fuck. You continued to suck him anyway.

One hand braced tight against Joel’s leg and the other moved shamelessly between your own, and you tried not to moan, but the sound escaped anyway. No one heard it, but Joel felt it reverberate down his shaft, and he gripped his glass of Merlot like a vice. Your dad shot him a curious look from across the table but said nothing.

“Can’t get enough’a her, huh?” Tommy grinned beside him.

“What?” Joel faltered. Set his drink aside carefully.

Down below, you dragged your mouth just far enough to take his tip between your lips and suckle. Joel grunted.

“The wine,” Tommy said, still smiling, “You must love it.”

Joel let out another strangled breath that he tried to pass off as a chuckle and nodded.

“Got me on my fuckin’ knees,” he admitted.

And that was the truth. Starved for air and blinking through tears as you knelt down to blow him, it was still you with the chokehold on Joel, and both of you knew it.

Try as you might to convince yourselves otherwise, the man was enrapt. Too spellbound to turn down your offer of sucking him dry under the dinner table just minutes after he’d almost cum all over your face, Joel was in it, and he was in it deep. It was just that small matter of you being his best friend’s daughter that made him loath to admit it. At any rate, he had your tongue licking strips up his cock and felt a sudden, sharp clench in his stomach.

He knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Neither would you.

Joel couldn’t see it then, but you’d practically soaked your own hand from how hard you’d been rubbing your clit—ignoring his orders not to touch yourself there—so turned on from just sucking his dick and needing to feel relief while you selflessly, secretly pleased him beneath the table. While Joel reached for another draught of wine, you brought one hand to his balls and kept the other at your cunt, triple-tasking like the efficient little slut he needed you to be: sucking, cupping, and rubbing all at once to get the two of you off in one minute or less.

You guided him down to the furthest place in your throat, then pushed him even deeper. You gagged just slightly and felt a hand reach down for your cheek. A thumb began to rub at the tears welled up at the corners of your eyes.

‘Sweet thing hasn’t felt a man this deep before, huh? Wanna swallow some more?’

You nodded that you did. Couldn’t actually hear him now, or see much else besides the soft tufts of hair on his belly, but you could feel a light, heady warmth seep into your brain.

You rutted your hips and just hoped no one dropped a fork nearby. Bucked desperately into your hand and felt the heat start to swell to a whole new feeling, and suddenly you were whimpering, whining on Joel’s cock from under the shade of the table and cumming all over your fingers.

Joel returned a quick smile from your father and cracked a joke about the Super Bowl. Raised his hips just the slightest bit and wiped one of your tear-soaked cheeks.

‘Almost there, hon, keep that throat open for daddy.’

All you could do was cry and try your best. Wild feelings from both the slow, deep facefuck he was giving you and the flurry of euphoric aftershocks coursing all throughout your body made it almost impossible to bear, but you obeyed your sweet and strong and steady-handed Joel and sensed a blossoming desire crop up for something else.

You wanted to taste him as he blew his load in your mouth, flooded your tongue with his spend, and painted every inch of your insides with that hot, sticky stuff.

You needed him whole.

Your Joel.

In tune with your thoughts—or perhaps just overcome with a need to see you before he reached his peak—Joel raised the tablecloth the slightest bit when Tommy wasn’t looking. His gaze locked on yours, and his tongue darted quick between his lips. He cocked a brow. Brushed his thumb again and looked down as if to say,

‘Ya want this, darlin’? Want all of me?’

You gave a soft nod, and that was all he needed.

No sooner had you given him the green light than his cum went pulsing out in ropes, coating your throat and eventually your whole mouth as you held still and took it all.

There was so much more than you thought. So much of Joel that had been waiting to give your mouth a proper fucking glaze that once he’d started he just couldn’t stop. Above the table, your dad shot a pointed look in his direction—‘You good, man?’—and it took every ounce of strength in Joel’s body to grit his teeth tight and nod.

He’d filled so much of your mouth it was spilling out.

You tried to hold steady, keep your movements extra slow. You’d heard your dad’s voice and just knew there’d be a lot more on the line than Joel’s dribbling seed if either one of you fucked up now. Your breath caught in your chest, and you felt too afraid to even swallow.

“I just…came,” Joel started, and your head almost cracked on the wood surface from how abruptly you flinched back,

“—to the realization—”

“—that you…are so…motherfuckin’ old, my friend.”

Your father’s laugh was the first you heard, followed by Tommy, his friends, and a dozen other party guests.

The next thing you felt, to your complete and utter shock, was Joel’s cock brushing your cheek. Then your lips. Then your tongue. He slid his still-hard member through the ‘o’ your mouth had made in awe and started to move in gentle motions back and forth, like a man all but aching to get a feel for your wet, sodden walls.

A man who couldn’t risk a glimpse now, but wanted more than anything to see the mouth he’d just filled.

Your father’s words hadn’t even cooled in the air.

Joel Miller, you sneaky, freaky fuck.

As the laughter subsided, and Tommy scooted back in his chair to take leave of your table, you felt a spark ignite. Whether it was yours or Joel’s or both your perverted minds suddenly alight and insane with the same thought, you couldn’t be sure, but you could make out the sound of a tablecloth flipping back up above you.

Joel slipped his dick out of your mouth and grinned. Took a firm hold of your face under the table so his fingers were coaxing your jaw to unhinge before him.

It was the lowest, slowest, menacing sort of sound you’d ever heard from him before, but it was his all the same.

Speaking to you now, softly, “Show daddy, darlin’.”

You thought you might like to see him that way forever.

Eyes honey-soft and glazed, thumb toying at your lip. Chest heaving up and down in time to your own breaths and growing ragged as you opened your mouth to him. He was sated and somehow unfulfilled—a bottomless pit of raw prurience as he stared down and held your gaze. Hair tousled, pants unbuckled, cock resting comfortably against your cheek, the man looked wonderfully undone and half in love with your sweet face peering up at him.

You couldn’t deny you loved doing this, too.

You’d just wished he saw Tommy before Tommy saw you.

#C*MPLAY IS BACK IN A BIG WAY #IT NEVER LEFT #joel miller smearing it on YOUR FACE????? IN THIS ECONOMY???#i would never shut up #i already never shut up but especially then #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dbf!joel

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cryptidspaz · 1 year

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hehe i ordered more vhs tapes

#2010 the year we make contact #and #close encounters of the third kind #hehehehehehhehehehehe #it is my Borthday #i must acquire more tapes !#plus i bought an old crt tv from my coworker and ive already played 3 tapes on it instead of my flatty #and it looks sooo fucking good #i love analogue media !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i bought a stack of tapes from the thrift store for 99 cents each and now i own those movies and can watch them whenever i damn well please #i started my cd collection when i lived in austin cuz it was cheaper than paying for wifi and streaming services every month #and now here i am 5 yrs later and a hugeeee media nerd #personal

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shangchiswife · 1 year

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joel miller- the babysitter?

....

summary: sarah’s old babysitter comes to visit from graduate school and joel is surprised

warnings: smut, age gap

word count: 2140

link to part 2: part 2

....

Joel Miller stood in the kitchen, his eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

He was determined to get the pancakes in front of him perfect. It was Sarah’s birthday and he just wanted to show her how much he appreciated her.

He had just finished making breakfast when his daughter bolted down the stairs.

“Morning dad,” she chirped before taking a seat at the breakfast table where Joel had placed a hot syrupy stack of pancakes.

“Morning baby girl, happy birthday,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead before taking a seat beside her.

“Pancakes! Thank you so much, dad!” she grinned before she immediately started to pile the pancakes onto her plate.

His gaze was soft as he stared at his little girl that was growing up so fast.

“So what’s the plan for today?” she asked with her mouth full.

“Mouth closed, Sarah, and whatever you want,” he ruffled her hair and she giggled.

“Thanks so much, dad, well I was thinking-”

Sarah was interrupted by the sound of the loud doorbell that sounded like it needed to be fixed.

The two glanced at each other with confusion.

“Were you expecting someone, Sarah?” Joel questioned, staring at his only daughter.

“No…” she shook her head quizzically.

Joel stood up, rubbing his hands on his jeans before going over to the door and opening it.

When he opened it he was shocked to see you standing there dressed in a pretty white sundress, the bright sun illuminating your beaming face.

“Y/N,” he said with surprise.

“Mr. Miller, it’s nice to see you. Is Sarah here? I have a present for her,” you lifted up a small pink gift bag in your hand.

“Yeah she is, uh…come in,” he scratched the back of his head as you came inside eagerly.

“Y/N!” Sarah screamed with joy as she abandoned her breakfast and darted over to you and immediately jumped into your arms.

“Sarah it’s so nice to see you! Look at how much you’ve grown,” you took her face in your hands and caressed it, her doe brown eyes gazing adoringly into yours.

You had babysat for Sarah during your gap year and during college, while you were at a university nearby Austin, wanting to earn some money. Then once you were done with college you were accepted into a good Graduate program outside of Texas and rarely visited due to your busy schedule.

Joel stared at you.

He remembered you asking him to read over your college essays and him trying his best to make comments even though your work was exceptional. Hell, he remembered you putting Sarah to bed even though she begged you to stay up and watch tv. You had played an important role in Sarah’s development and he appreciated that. And now here you were so mature, hardened from the city life.

“Here’s your gift, Sarah, I hope you like it,” you smiled, handing her the bright pink gift bag, watching as she threw out the wrapping paper.

“Woah a Britney Spears shirt and an Avril Lavigne cd! Thanks so much, Y/N,” Sarah marveled at the contents of the bag before embracing you once more.

“No problem. Anything for my favorite kid,” you winked at her as her cheeks glowed from the praise.

Suddenly the doorbell rang again and all heads turned to the crimson-red door once more.

“Good grief, how many more people are gonna knock on my door,” Joel muttered under his breath as you suppressed a giggle.

You had always had a little school-girl crush on Joel when you babysat Sarah. The way he was always so kind and gentle to you. It also didn’t help how handsome he was with his dark hair that was slightly greyed and his large muscular build, and serious dark eyes. All the girls your age had the same thoughts about Joel calling him a “silver fox.” Joel was completely oblivious to their comments, and if he did know he did a damn good job of hiding it.

This time Sarah ran up to the door and swung it open.

“Lily!” she squealed with delight as a girl around her age entered the house.

“Hey, Sarah, happy birthday! My mom was wondering if you wanted to go to the city mall with us and get a gift for you,” the girl said as Sarah immediately spun towards Joel and gave him her best puppy eyes.

You shook your head and chuckled.

You remembered when she used to do that when she wanted to stay up past her bedtime.

Joel scratched his facial hair.

“I don’t know…”

With that response, Sarah smacked him lightly with the Avril Lavigne cd she had just been gifted, her brown face scrunching up with anger.

“Alright, alright, easy I was just joking,” he chuckled as Sarah narrowed her eyes at him and then skipped away with Lily leaving the two of you alone.

It seemed that Joel had just realized and he turned around and stared at you.

“Oh…uh Y/N you can stay for dinner if you’d like I’m sure I can make something…” he said awkwardly.

You didn’t know why he was being so awkward, he was always normal when you were around.

“That sounds good, Mr. Miller,”

“Oh Y/N, you know you can just call me Joel,” his mouth twisted to the side which made you grin.

“Fine, that sounds good, Joel,” you smiled before plopping onto one of the sofas sprawled out in the cozy living room.

….

Once Joel had brought a warm plate of cookies, the awkwardness between the two of you was over and you started exchanging stories.

“And that was how Sarah got on the soccer team,” Joel wolfed down his cookie before you let out a hearty laugh.

“I can’t believe she got on there with no experience and a broken wrist,” you giggled.

“Yeah but now she’s carryin’ the team,” he said, putting the plate down on the table beside him.

As he moved over to do that simple action, your eyes flickered down to his jeans, they fit so snugly around his thick thighs.

Jesus Christ get a grip, Y/N you thought trying your hardest not to stare at them.

Once the man returned to his seat he spread his legs for comfort.

“Lord, this man is going to drive me insane,” you muttered, rubbing your temples as you could feel yourself growing wet from under your dress.

“You alright, there, Y/N?” the handsome man cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowing with concern.

“I’m alright I just-”

At that moment your car keys flew off your wrist and under the sofa.

“Shit,” you cursed as you bent down under the couch and searched for them.

Joel’s eyes widened and his breath hitched the moment you bent down to reach for your keys, your pretty sundress hiked up and revealed your lacy black panties.

His cock twitched in his pants as he stared at your ass.

“Fuck,” he mumbled thinking that no one could hear him.

But you could.

You peeked at him for a second, watching as his eyes darken as they watched your every movement.

Wanting to tease him more you wiggled your ass, wanting to get a reaction out of him.

He adjusted in his seat, fidgeting uncomfortably as he rubbed his hands on his jeans.

You fished your car keys from under the couch and placed them promptly back in your purse before going over to Joel, kneeling.

“Joel, are you feeling alright?” you kneeled right in front of his thighs, placing a gentle hand on his knee as Joel held back a groan.

He did nothing but gape as you moved his thighs aside so that you could slip in between them.

“Fuck, sweetheart what are you doin’?” Joel brought a hand down to caress your cheek.

“Please,” you looked up at him pleadingly.

“Please what,” his fingers drew shapes into your cheeks as you closed your eyes with bliss.

“Please let me suck your cock,” you placed your head on his thigh, cheeks flushed as he stroked your hair.

“Are you sure?” he struggled with his words as you nuzzled into his thigh.

“I want to,”

Your words sent the blood rushing to his cock as he took one of his fingers and put it in your mouth.

“Suck,” he commanded as you immediately complied, looking up at him innocently.

“Holy shit,” he said as he continued to thrust his finger in and out of your mouth watching as a string of drool pooled from your lips.

You whined, clearly wanting something bigger in your mouth.

“Alright princess, you show me how it’s done,” Joel rested his head back against the sofa as he watched your calculated movements.

You smirked as you rubbed your hands up and down his muscular thighs, then placed one hand on his clothed erection and traced it lightly.

“Uh uh, if you keep on doing that I’m not gonna be so nice,” he growled, gripping your chin roughly, making sure that you locked eyes with him.

You gave him a small smile before pressing a single kiss to his clothed cock.

Then you started working the zipper of his jeans, watching as his cock sprung out, pre-cum leaking from his tip, just waiting to be touched.

Your mouth watered at the sight.

Joel guided your head, pushing it closer to his cock as you wrapped your lips around it.

“Shit yeah that’s it, princess,” he said, his head hitting the back of the couch, enjoying the warmth of your tongue on his dick.

While you took more of him in your mouth you simultaneously stroked him and fondled his balls.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted as he raked his hands through your hair, fisting it tightly.

You moaned at the pulling, the vibrations going straight to Joel’s cock.

You sink deeper into him, wanting to please him desperately as you continued to fondle his balls and wrap one of your hands around the base of his shaft.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praised, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as you whimpered from the praise, growing wetter by the moment.

“Yeah, you like being called a good girl?” he teased, a smirk playing at his lips as he watched you struggle with his length.

Your pussy clenched around nothing as he continued to fist your hair.

You close your eyes with bliss as you continue to milk him while he lets out loud groans that go straight to your drooling cunt.

“Fuck I’m gonna-”

“Down my throat,” you breathe out as Joel completely loses it and stands up, thrusting his dick into your mouth at a brutal pace.

You moan loudly, tears leaking down your face as Joel continues to fuck you, groaning at his pleasure.

“You fuckin’ whore, having a little crush on your boss,”

You looked up at him, whimpering as tears continued to rush down your cheeks.

“Such a pretty little mouth, taking my cock so well,” he moaned as his pace faltered.

You rubbed your thighs together, wanting some friction of some sort to aid your untouched pussy.

Joel thrust one last time and released his seed, painting your throat white as he slipped out of your mouth.

He watched his cum drip down your chin and he almost became hard again at the pretty sight.

“Swallow,” he ordered as you immediately complied and swallowed his cum.

“Good girl,” he whispered as he knelt down to your cockdumb state and caressed your cheeks.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, sweetly.

“Yeah, Joel I’m amazing,” you said as you leaned your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him, threading your hand through his cropped hair.

The man’s breath hitched before he embraced you back, drawing circles on your back with the pad of his thumb.

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“So damn cute,” he whispered in your ear as you giggled.

“You really think so?” your heart swelled with joy at his compliment.

“I know so,” he said as you hid your smile in his chest.

“So when can we meet again?” you asked looking up at him as he looked down at you, his eyes soft and not serious like they usually are.

“Tomorrow Sarah is having her birthday party here and then Lily’s mom is taking em’ skating at the mall in the city so the house will be free,” he smirked as your cheeks heated up.

“I’ll be there,” you stood up, taking your purse and putting it over your shoulder.

“And tomorrow you’ll get your turn,” he said, winking.

You grinned at him before opening the front door and shutting it behind you.

You could not wait for tomorrow.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #tlou smut #the last of us smut

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joelsgreys · 1 year

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family

Preoutbreak! Joel Miller x Reader

summary: You and Joel have some news to share with Sarah.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) pregnancy, small age gap (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 35). fluff, fluff, fluff, Joel and Sarah being the most adorable father daughter duo.

word count: 3.3k

a/n:this is my response to this request right here; a huge thank you to whoever sent this one in!

You let out a small, tired sigh and wiped the back of your hand across your forehead. The early afternoon lunch rush at Moe’s Diner had just ended and you were exhausted beyond belief. Moe’s was one of the more popular locally owned joints in Austin, Texas, and while having a lot of customers coming into the establishment meant earning heftier tips and of course, a bigger paycheck, there was a small part of you that couldn’t help but wish that you could have at least one slow day, just one single day of the week where you weren’t waiting about a dozen tables all at once.

The moment you dropped the last stack of used plates into the plastic gray bin for Hugo, the dishwasher, to come and collect, you washed your hands thoroughly with soap and warm water and then made your way over to the old, electronic cash register behind the main counter to punch in the tips you’d earned after the rush; an hour’s worth of working and you had already made about a hundred bucks to take home at the end of your shift. As you finished logging your earnings, you could feel a pair of eyes watching you from a distance. You didn’t even need to look up to see that it was Joel. He had made something of a habit of coming to join you on his lunch hour. He’d been working longer and longer days lately, and if his only chance to spend time with you was during his lunch break, then that is exactly what he was going to do.

You tossed your receipt into the register and closed it up, turning to your coworker, Melinda. “Alright. All the tables have been cashed out, cleared, and wiped down,” You informed her, sticking your own copy of the receipt for your tips into the crisp, white apron of your uniform. “Mind if I go and take a break now?”

“Go right ahead. Don’t want to keep lover boy over there waiting for too long,” Melinda responded with a teasing wink.

“Oh, shut up,” You snipped at her, although the smile was evident in your tone of voice. You turned around and quickly poured two cups of coffee, a regular for Joel and a decaffeinated roast for yourself. Last week during your doctor’s appointment, your obstetrician reassured you that it would be a while before you really had to start easing up on the amount of caffeine you put into your body, but you figured it wouldn’t hurt to start weaning yourself off of it while you were still in the earlier stages of pregnancy. Better to deal with the withdrawals sooner rather than later. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes to help you with the next rush,” You told Melinda over your shoulder. You took the two cups in your hands and walked over towards one of the booths in the far corner of the fifties themed restaurant where Joel had chosen to sit today. You set his cup of coffee down in front of him and kissed his cheek lightly before sliding into the booth across from him. “I am so sorry to have kept you waiting. Two for one lunch special brought in a lot more people than Moe had anticipated.” You rolled your eyes, gently shaking your head. “He understaffed us. Again.”

Joel frowned as he noted, “I can tell. You look exhausted.”

“Which is basically code for, you look like shit, isn’t it?” You asked him teasingly.

“S’not what I meant and you know it,” he replied, rolling his eyes at you as he took a careful sip of his coffee. “You shouldn’t be workin’ so damn hard, y’know. S’not good for you to strain yourself, not in your condition.”

“In my condition,” You mimicked him with an amused little chuckle. It earned you a stern glare. “Oh come on, Joel. I’m only about six weeks along.” You shrugged your shoulders and then leaned back into the seat of the booth. “Come back to me with that bullshit when I’m in my third trimester and waddling around this place.”

Joel snorted. “Well, I’m hopin’ that by that time, you won’t be workin’ at all.”

Your playful smile faded slightly from your face. “What are you talking about?” You asked, crossing your arms stubbornly over your chest. It baffled you that he would even suggest such a thing. “We have a baby on the way. That means that I have to work, Joel. I have to work for as long as I possibly can before it comes. And then after a couple months of maternity leave, I’m going to have to come back and work some more.”

“Wait a minute, what about school?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow at you. “How exactly do you plan to juggle studyin’ while workin’ and bein’ a mom too?”

Stumped on how to answer him without upsetting him, you remained quiet and chewed nervously on your bottom lip. He wasn’t wrong. You hadn’t exactly told him yet, but the reality was that you knew it would be tough to handle all three and there was a pretty good chance that your teaching degree would have to be put on the back burner for an indefinite amount of time.

“You’re not givin’ up on that degree,” Joel asserted, as if he had read your thoughts. “No way in hell, I won’t let you. You only have one year left,” he reminded you firmly. “Look, business has been boomin’ on my end of things. If it stays that way, I can get you out of this place. Let you focus on bein’ a mom and gettin’ your teachin’ credential.”

You bit back a sigh. “Joel, it’s a bit too early to even be talking about all of this, don’t you think?” You said after a moment, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the conversation. “There’s no need to worry about that stuff yet.” Noticing the exasperated expression on his face, you outstretched your arm across the able and held out your hand. “I’m serious, Joel. I don’t want you to worry about it, not right now.”

He smiled warily as he took your hand in his. He leaned over and lifted it to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. “Look, I know it’s early,” he acknowledged. “But I’m just plannin’ ahead.” He paused long enough to press another kiss onto your hand. “I just wanna take care of you, darlin’. That’s all.”

“I know you do,” You replied softly, squeezing his hand. You could see Melinda over behind the counter tapping the invisible watch around her wrist as if to tell you that your time was running out. “What time do you have to be back at the job site?”

Joel glanced down at his watch, but it was useless. The damn thing had stopped working once again, and yet he refused to take it to get repaired. “Probably have to start headin’ back soon, actually,” he realized, the disappointment present in his tone. He hadn’t gotten nearly as much time with you as he would have liked. “Oh, I forgot to mention. Tommy said he’s not gonna be home for dinner tonight,” he informed you. “Said he’s spendin’ the night with a buddy, but we both know what that means.”

You giggled. “Another blonde he met at the bar, huh?”

“Yeah, sounds ‘bout right.” Joel laughed and rolled his eyes. “But anyway, I was thinkin’ that tonight might be the night to finally tell Sarah, seein’ as it’ll just be the three of us. What do you think, baby?”

You squeezed his hand again. “I’m kind of nervous, Joel. About telling her.”

“Yeah, me too.” Joel wasn’t nervous for Sarah’s reaction because he’d thought she would feel negatively about the baby or about you. Rather, he knew his teenager would be horrified thinking about how this blessed miracle came to be seeing as he’d signed a permission slip for her to learn all about the birds and the bees in health class at school last semester. At thirteen, Sarah was in that one stage where anything that Joel did embarrassed her—or grossed her out.

And this would certainly gross her out.

“Jesus, here comes round two of the rush,” You muttered, watching three large parties of people walk into the diner. Reluctantly, you released Joel’s hand. “I should go and help Melinda. Besides, you really need to get back to work before you’re late.”

Both you and Joel slid out of the booth and stood up. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest in one of those tight, warm hugs that you’d grown to adore over the last couple of years. “I’ll be home on time for dinner tonight,” he promised you. “If you need anythin’ while I’m at work, you let me know, alright?”

You chuckled. “Yes, Joel.”

He let go of you and stood back, his eyes meeting yours. “I’m serious. You need anythin’ at all, you call me, alright? My phone will be in my pocket.”

“I’ll be fine, Joel,” You insisted, shaking your head as you laughed. “Now go on, get going before your boss chews you out for being late.”

“I am my boss, darlin’.” He grinned boyishly at you before pressing his lips lightly against yours, murmuring gently against them. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Ugh, this is too good.” Sarah let out a small groan of satisfaction as she took another bite of her spaghetti. She turned to you a minute later, dabbing at her mouth with her paper napkin before telling you, “Have I told you that it’s my favorite? Because it’s my favorite and I simply must give my compliments to the chef.”

You lifted your chin slightly, feeling pleased with yourself. “Thank you.”

Joel pouted, feigning offense. “Now wait a damn minute, I thought the spaghetti that I made you was your favorite?”

“Dad, you use the jarred crap,” Sarah reminded him. “Her sauce is homemade. She actually makes it from scratch, like you’re supposed to.” She pointed her fork at him. “Your spaghetti is just one step above Chef Boyardee. And that’s being generous.”

Joel picked a crouton from the salad bowl in the middle of the table and flicked it at her. “Turd.”

“Bigger turd,” she shot back at him with a tiny giggle as she picked up the crouton and popped it into her mouth.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” You chuckled, waving a hand. “Settle down you two or I’ll put you both in timeout.”

“Y’see what you do? Gettin’ us in trouble,” Joel joked before biting into a slice of garlic bread.

Sarah stuck her tongue out at him. “You started it.”

You giggled, shaking your head.

You adored the dynamic between the two, although there were times when it could be a bit much. Somehow, you seemed to bring a bit of balance to it all—you had become the calm, level headed presence if and when Sarah and Joel’s antics ever went overboard.

You wouldn’t have it any other way, of course.

Although Joel had been seeing you for about two or so years now, he hadn’t introduced you to Sarah until six months into the relationship. You hadn’t been offended by that in the slightest—you knew that he’d done his fair share of dating around before you came along, and he had made the sore mistake of introducing his young, impressionable daughter to a large number of different women who, in the end, never stuck around. Not wanting to cause any further confusion or strife for Sarah, Joel vowed never to bring another woman into his daughter’s life again, not unless he was absolutely certain it was someone who would actually stay.

That woman turned out to be you.

Joel had met you when he and his younger brother, Tommy, walked into Moe’s one afternoon for lunch. Tommy set his sights on you first, flirting up a storm, but it was Joel who you’d connected with. Joel ended up visiting the diner several times after that, going in for a cup of coffee at least every other day until he’d finally worked up the courage to ask you out on a date. That one date turned into two, two turned into three, and by date number six, you two had completely fallen for each other. Joel realized early on that you were the real deal, but nevertheless, he still chose to wait to introduce you to his then eleven year old.

When the time to meet Sarah finally came, you’d been so nervous; you were in love with Joel, but you knew that if his daughter didn’t like you, it could all come crashing down. Your first interaction with Sarah had been a little awkward, but as you got to know each other, things slowly started to shift in the right direction. The more time you’d started spending around her—with her—the closer you two became and your bond eventually flourished.

A few months later, you moved in with her, Joel, and Tommy.

“It’s going to be so nice having another girl around here,” Sarah had told you excitedly while helping you unpack a box of your things in Joel’s bedroom. “There’s way too much testosterone around here.”

The two of you had become inseparable.

Joel often liked to joke that she liked you more than she liked him.

He wasn’t totally wrong about that.

All you could do was hope that the news of the baby wouldn’t change how Sarah felt about you. You loved Joel, of course, but you’d grown to love Sarah too. They were your family.

The timer that you’d set on the oven started beeping loudly, pulling you from your train of thoughts. “Those would be the cupcakes that I made for dessert.”

“Chocolate?” Sarah asked you with shining, hopeful eyes.

“Of course. What other flavor is there?” You winked as you stood up from your chair.

She punched the air lightly. “Yes! Can I help you frost them?”

“As soon as they cool down,” You promised, touching her shoulder lightly as you walked by her and off into the kitchen.

“Tonight just keeps getting better and better,” Sarah sighed contentedly, picking up her fork.

Joel watched her for a moment in silence, a small smile on his face. “Hey,” he said after minute or two, garnering Sarah’s attention. “You really like her, don’t you, kiddo?”

“Of course! She’s got to be like, the coolest person ever,” Sarah remarked in between more bites of her pasta. “What’s not to like? She’s smart, she’s pretty, she’s fun to talk to,” she started ticking things off her list. “She has amazing taste in movies and music. Oh, and she lets me borrow her clothes.”

He laughed, suddenly realizing that the Red Hot Chili Peppers band tee shirt she was wearing actually belonged to you. “You’re askin’ for her permission to wear her stuff, right?”

Sarah batted her eyelashes innocently at him. “She said that I didn’t have to ask. In fact, she said I could just help myself to her side of the closet whenever I wanted.”

Joel tossed another crouton at her. “I don’t care what she said, it’s still polite to ask, missy.”

“I’m just kidding, dad! Jeez,” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Of course I ask her. You didn’t raise a heathen.”

Joel snorted lightly and leaned back into his chair. “Sometimes I ain’t so sure about that, babygirl.”

After a minute, Sarah’s eyes met his across the table. “Hey, dad?”

“Yeah?”

“You like her a lot too, don’t you?”

“A hell of a lot,” he answered, honestly. “You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like her.”

“Me either,” Sarah admitted. “But I’m really glad that you did.” She paused, offering him a tiny, but genuine smile. “You deserve to be happy, you know?”

Joel’s heart warmed inside of his chest. He lightly kicked her foot underneath the table with his. “Look at you being a big ol’ pile of sentimental goo.”

“And this is exactly why I don’t ever say anything,” Sarah huffed, but she giggled. “You always ruin it.”

“Always ruin what?” You asked as you walked back out of the kitchen. You took your seat and picked up your glass of iced tea looking between the two. “What did I miss?”

“Oh nothing, my dad is just being annoying, as always,” Sarah kidded before she began to polish off the remainder of her dinner.

A long, but comfortable silence fell over the table.

You glanced over at Joel, wondering when it would be time. His gaze met yours and he raised an eyebrow, as if silently asking you if you were ready. Although you weren’t, you gave him a subtle nod.

Joel cleared his throat. “Sarah?”

“Hmm?”

“There’s somethin’ that we want to tell you,” he began to say, earning himself a puzzled look from his daughter. He hesitated, as if trying to figure out the best way to just spit it out. “We’ve been wantin’ to tell you this for a couple of weeks now, but we wanted to find the right moment and well, I think this is it—we’re havin’ a baby.”

Sarah’s fork clinked loudly against her plate as she dropped it in surprise. “What?” she gasped, her wide eyes flicking to you. “Are you freaking serious?”

You nodded, wondering if that was a good reaction or a bad one. You couldn’t quite tell just yet. “I’m having a baby,” you confirmed, lifting a hand and running it nervously through your hair.

Sarah stared at you, her eyes still wide and what looked like a smile threatening to break out across her face. “Swear it?”

You exhaled a breath of relief. “Swear it. I’m six weeks right now.”

Letting out a little squeal, she jumped up from her chair and ran over to you, throwing her arms around your shoulders. “I can’t believe this!” She squeezed you tightly—a little too tightly. “Do you know what it is yet? When will you know? Can we start looking at baby stuff this weekend? Can we buy it clothes already?”

“Sarah, breathe.” Joel shook his head, although he was grinning from ear to ear. “And more importantly, let her breathe.”

“Shut up, Joel. She’s fine,” You waved a hand dismissively at him as you wrapped your arms around her, hugging her back. “I honestly didn’t think you’d be this excited.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sarah exclaimed as she pulled away. “This is the best news ever! I’ve been all by myself for so long!”

“Hey, what are we? Chopped liver?” Joel threw his hands up and then brought them back down onto his lap.

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“No, I really don’t.”

Sarah shrugged. “Well, it’s just been me all these years, dad. But now I get to have a little brother or sister.” She paused and glanced at you. “Is it wrong to say that I really, really hope it’s a girl?”

“Then it would be three against one,” Joel realized, the color draining from his face slightly. “Jesus Christ, I really hope it’s a boy.”

“You have Uncle Tommy.”

“He doesn’t count.”

“Joel!” You snapped at him, causing Sarah to throw her head back and laugh. “Don’t say that.”

“The score is even,” Sarah stated. She pointed a finger at him as she walked back to her chair and sat down. “Two boys, two girls. The baby will be the tie breaker. When will find out what it is?”

“In a few more weeks,” You responded, chuckling at the way her face fell. “Trust me, they’ll go by faster than you think.”

“I can’t wait!” Sarah beamed brightly, looking between the two of you. “Oh man, this is awesome.”

Joel tilted his head curiously at her. “Yeah? You happy, babygirl?”

“I get to have a family,” she murmured, her hand resting lightly on her chest. “A real family, like the ones you see on TV or in the movies." She looked at him, her eyes twinkling brightly. “Happy doesn’t even cover it, dad.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #tlou imagine #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller hbo

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 3 months

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It wasn’t over, it still isn’t over. (Bandit cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader) Part 2

Wake up babe, new cowboy Miguel fic just dropped! This part was heavily inspired by the notebook. Period pieces are not my strong suit so apologizes if it’s not good. Not proofread, enjoy!

(Y/N)-Your name.

Cursing, mentions/usage of alcohol, attempted robbery/theft, mentions of guns, Miguel jokes about manhandling you but nothing actually happens, mentions of sexual acts, but nothing happens.

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 1

Masterlist

—

Five years.

Five years since you had last seen the cowboy who had stolen your heart.

You had graduated college and moved out of your parents home, moving a few towns over, nowhere near a big city like you lived in during your youth in the East but a lot larger than the one you had lived during the whole Miguel incident. You lived in a nice home, gotten a job as a teacher for the younger kids in town and… you were recently engaged.

Your fiancé was a nice man, sweet, understanding, kind, easy on the eyes, you liked him a lot, the only problem is, you didn’t love him. You should feel bad about getting married to a wealthy man who you didn’t even see as more than of a friend, but at the same time, your mother thought it would be best to marry you off to her friend’s son that just so happened to be inheriting his father’s liquor business when he settled down. It was a marriage of convenience if anything, at least he was polite with you despite neither you or him having any romantic feelings, if anything it made the whole thing a bit easier for you. Growing content with the fact that this would turn into your future children’s definition of love.

Five years to grow from a silly lovestruck teenager into a young woman with responsibilities and a bright future ahead of her, and you still thought about him. You can't help but frantically Miguel’s name under the obituary section of the town’s paper, unknowingly breathing a sigh of relief when his name wouldn’t appear. Although it was foolish, and despite no longer living in the same small town as your parents, you couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter at the fact he hasn’t found you yet. Was he even attempting to look for you? With a reputation like his, you’re certain you weren’t the first girl he’s charmed to get under his sheets… or in your case, jail cell. So, eventually, you stopped hoping, if he hadn’t found you during the last five years, he surely wasn’t looking. Why should you?

—

“Darling.” Your fiancé, Austin, called out for you before rounding the corner that connected the living room into the kitchen. You hummed in response as you kept your eyes on the stack of papers you were currently grading for your students, a pen in your dominant hand as your free one tapped a mindless tone to help keep you concentrated. “Put the papers down and take a break will you? You’ve got all week to grade those tests.” You let out a huff and a whine as you put the pen down, he was right. Your eyes keep unfocusing and your wrist was being to grow sore, making your fiancé tsk. “I don’t understand why you don’t just quit, I make enough to support us both.”

“I should,shouldn't I…” You contimplacted with a weary chuckle, and although your tone was joking, you were seriously considering it. You adored your students with all your heart, you really did. But the school was putting so much pressure on you because they refused to hire another teacher to help lessen your workload. So you and two other teachers were juggling a handful of 300 seven year olds, it was a lot… to say the least. You picked yourself up from your seat to stretch your body out, before turning to Austin. “Now was that all you came to tell me?” You asked in a playful tone.

“No, actually… I came to ask for a favor.” He admitted, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. “Ya know I’ve got that… liquor convention event out of town this weekend, right?” You nodded in confirmation, “well, I was wondering if you could do me the favor of just checking in on my office while I’m gone. I’ve heard a lot about break ins and whatnot during these times, just drop by for a few minutes for the 4 days that I’ll be gone.”

You tapped the nonsensical rhythm again as you thought about it, it wasn’t too much of an ask, you’d just drop by for a few minutes a day, you shrugged. “Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”

—

Saturday afternoon, your first day off and your third alone. Grateful for the ability to sleep in and being about to eat a well rounded breakfast. After doing your usual morning routine, and having changed into one of your simpler dresses to go out and run some errands for the day.

Gone out to get groceries, send out a letter to your parents, went to the tailors to drop off some Austin’s shirts to be hemmed since you didn’t feel like sitting down all to do it yourself, even finished grading the last of the test all before noon ended. After tidying up your work from its usual spot from the kitchen table, you made yourself a quick lunch and went to read a few chapters of your book on the couch. Only to end up falling asleep, and once you woke up, you glanced at the clock-shit.

“It’s half past five?! I was supposed to go to his office an hour ago!” You yelled to no one but yourself as you quickly got up from your spot on the couch, fixing your hair quickly as you threw on your coat, and made your way back out the door.

—

“I told ya boys this heist would be easy… if we leave by dusk we could hit up that train that passes by el dorado tomorrow evening…” Miguel chuckled as he tossed his now full bag of valuables to his brother, who then passed it over Peter would load it to one of their horses that they had waiting for them around the back of the building.

After that night he had escaped, it took him about a month to find his partners in crime, following their trail through stolen newspapers from random porches and the knowledge of how their usual trail was, luckily they had kept his horse safe and well taken care of too.

“One more bag then we’re as good as gone.” Miguel said with a smirk, making Gabriel Let out a laugh and a clap. Right when Miguel was going to prep the last bag, the faint noise of rushing made all three men stop in their tracks. Before he sent his younger brother a glare and he hissed in a low tone through his teeth. “Pinche cabrón- I thought you said this place would be empty all weekend.” (Fucking dumbass)

“I thought it would!” He whispered-shouted back, before they heard the door creak open.

“Fuck-okay… um, go check if it’s the sheriff.” He quietly ordered Gabriel, before turning to Peter, “Get the horses ready incase we needa’ book It.” With a nob both males did as told, as Miguel quickly went to pack the last bag.

When his younger brother entered the front room, he swore he heard him mutter the words “hello pretty lady” before the muffle sound of rustling and some high-pitched yelping, but never was a shot fired, so clearly it couldn’t have been someone to play an immediate threat. Just as he was finishing tying up the bag, Gabriel came back into the room, but not alone.

“Look at what I found, it must be his little wife.” He said almost mockingly as he hazardly pulled you into the room and pushed you into the room in front of Miguel’s feet, but with your face being tilted down as you caught yourself from falling face first onto the wooden floor.

“Careful!” You yelled as you try to collect yourself, once you get yourself to look up at the bandit you were dropped in front of, your scowl immediately turned into once of disbelief, and it seems his expression matched yours.

You both seem to have froze up in time as you both did nothing but stare at each other, Gabriel just crossed his arms and raised a brow, Peter came jogging in to inform his friends the horses are ready when he saw the odd scene, opting to keep his mouth shut.

Finally, you came back to life as you blinked, as if expecting his to disappear right before your very eyes again, and when he didn’t, you finally whispered a faint. “…Miguel?”

“…(Y/N)…” You nodded your head, despite it not being a question, and he cleared his throat, not breaking eye contact with you as he spoke his next orders to Peter and Gabriel. “Unload all that shit and put it back.”

—

He had told Gabriel and Peter to go on to do the train heist without him, and that he'd meet up with them afterwards. Saying he had “unattended business to take care of”. So now here he was, in your kitchen, only being lightened up by a few candles as darkness overtook the sky. Both of you sharing drunken giggles over dinner. Miguel’s black cowboy hat that was certainly too big for you sitting on top of your head as you sip on your beer.

“That hat looks adorable on you.” Miguel chuckled, making you shake your head with a giggle, your free hand going to rest on top of the hat to help keep it stabilized.

“It’s so big!” You countered as you take the hat off and went to hand it back to Miguel, who grabs it and sets it back on his head.

“You know you shouldn’t be wearing just anyone’s hat. Ya know what they say about wearing a man’s cowboy hat.” He joked as he put down his now empty bottle, chuckling when he saw your face contour in confusion.

“What do they say?” You asked curiously, making Miguel’s smirk widen.

“Wear the hat…” he tapped the brim on the hat for emphasis, “Ride the cowboy.” He finished, making you gasp dramatically.

“Miguel! That’s inappropriate!” You pretended to be offended, but you couldn’t help but crack a smile near the end of you reprimanding him.

“Oh please, you act like you haven’t before, why not again? Unless you want me to come over then and manhandle you.” He was only joking of course, he may have been a thief and a murderer but he’d never hurt a woman, especially not you. You let out a faux gasp, playing along as your right hand goes to your chest for emphasis.

“You wouldn’t dare. I’m a married woman.” You said in a softer tone, going to sip your bottle to finish it off. You haven’t really told him you were going to be getting married soon, even though he knew you were in a relationship, he didn’t quite know how serious it was.

“Not yet.” He replied almost immediately, shaking his head as his playful tone dropped to a more serious yet still gentle tone. The soft smile stays on his lips but it didn’t meet his eyes anymore when you raised your hand to show off the silver band that decorates your ring finger, the diamond shining even only in the candlelight. It took you a moment too long to realize this.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, the start of a giggle comes out with your words but they quickly die down in your throat as the once playful atmosphere starts to turn more serious.Miguel just shakes his head as a hand goes to rub at his chin.

“Nothing nothing… just didn’t think you’d ever get married… thought what we had was something real.” He admitted, eyes casted downwards as he goes to fidget with a bent half beer bottle cap. You let out a scoff, offended by his words.

“Don’t try and think I just forgot about you the moment my father dragged me out of that door,” your brows furrowed and your arms crossed on the wooden table as you started to chastise him, “I was stuck on you for five years Miguel. Five. Years.” You emphasized the two words with taps on the table. “Don’t get me wrong, Austin is a great guy, but it was my parents' idea for me to marry him. They thought it was a good way to get me to stop thinking about you-“ You shouldn’t be admitting that outloud but the buzz made your mind hazy.

“Do you love him?” He interrupted you, eyes burning into yours, those same intense eyes you had dreamed about as you slept, you had to look away.

“It’s not that simple Miguel-“

“But it is.” He insisted, standing up from his seat, the chair screeching as it tried not to topple over. “You either love him or you don’t.”

“I’m not doing this with you Miguel.” You shook your head as you stood as well, going to clean up the mess you two had made, trying to erase any evidence you two were there.

“Too bad, I’m not just gonna drop this and let you disappear from my life, I’m not losing you again.” He declared, you weren’t going to justify his admission with a response, but as you go to pick up a few empty bottles, they slip from your hands, cracking into hundreds of small shreds as Miguel’s hands turn you around to face him. A shocked gasp begins to leave your lips before it is quickly swallowed up by his. You know you should push him off, but you couldn’t help but melt underneath his touch.

Miguel O’Hara was a criminal, a thief of many things and no matter how much you try to stop him, he’ll always find a way to steal your heart all over again.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @xevita @marshhbs @inlovewithpandora @vera4luv @mcmiracles @eddieslooneymoonie @to-the-endoftheline

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disabled-dragoon · 9 months

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The Disability Library

I love books, I love literature, and I love this blog, but it's only been recently that I've really been given the option to explore disabled literature, and I hate that. When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be able to read about characters like me, and now as an adult, all I want is to be able to read a book that takes us seriously.

And so, friends, Romans, countrymen, I present, a special disability and chronic illness booklist, compiled by myself and through the contributions of wonderful members from this site!

As always, if there are any at all that you want me to add, please just say. I'm always looking for more!

Edit 20/10/2023: You can now suggest books using the google form at the bottom!

Updated: 31/08/2023

Articles and Chapters

The Drifting Language of Architectural Accessibility in Victor Hugo's Notre-Dame de Paris, Essaka Joshua, 2012

Early Modern Literature and Disability Studies, Allison P. Hobgood, David Houston Wood, 2017

How Do You Develop Whole Object Relations as an Adult?, Elinor Greenburg, 2019

Making Do with What You Don't Have: Disabled Black Motherhood in Octavia E. Butler's Parable of the Sower and Parable of the Talents, Anna Hinton, 2018

Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2003 OR Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2019

Wasted Lives: Modernity and Its Outcasts, Zygmunt Bauman, 2004

Witchcraft and deformity in early modern English Literature, Scott Eaton, 2020

Books

Fiction:

Misc:

10 Things I Can See From Here, Carrie Mac

A-F:

A Curse So Dark and Lonely, (Series), Brigid Kemmerer

Akata Witch, (Series), Nnedi Okorafor

A Mango-Shaped Space, Wendy Mass

Ancillary Justice, (Series), Ann Leckie

An Unkindness of Ghosts, Rivers Solomon

An Unseen Attraction, (Series), K. J. Charles

A Shot in the Dark, Victoria Lee

A Snicker of Magic, Natalie Lloyd

A Song of Ice and Fire, (series), George R. R. Martin

A Spindle Splintered, (Series), Alix E. Harrow

A Time to Dance, Padma Venkatraman

Bath Haus, P. J. Vernon

Beasts of Prey, (Series), Ayana Gray

The Bedlam Stacks, (Series), Natasha Pulley

Black Bird, Blue Road, Sofiya Pasternack

Black Sun, (Series), Rebecca Roanhorse

Blood Price, (Series), Tanya Huff

Borderline, (Series), Mishell Baker

Breath, Donna Jo Napoli

The Broken Kingdoms, (Series), N.K. Jemisin

Brute, Kim Fielding

Cafe con Lychee, Emery Lee

Carry the Ocean, (Series), Heidi Cullinan

Challenger Deep, Neal Shusterman

Cinder, (Series), Marissa Meyer

Clean, Amy Reed

Connection Error, (Series), Annabeth Albert

Cosima Unfortunate Steals A Star, Laura Noakes

Crazy, Benjamin Lebert

Crooked Kingdom, (Series), Leigh Bardugo

Daniel Cabot Puts Down Roots, (Series), Cat Sebastian

Daniel, Deconstructed, James Ramos

Dead in the Garden, (Series), Dahlia Donovan

Dear Fang, With Love, Rufi Thorpe

Deathless Divide, (Series), Justina Ireland

The Degenerates, J. Albert Mann

The Doctor's Discretion, E.E. Ottoman

Earth Girl, (Series), Janet Edwards

Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead, Emily R. Austin

The Extraordinaries, (Series), T. J. Klune

The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict, (Series), Trenton Lee Stewart

Fight + Flight, Jules Machias

The Final Girl Support Group, Grady Hendrix

Finding My Voice, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The First Thing About You, Chaz Hayden

Follow My Leader, James B. Garfield

Forever Is Now, Mariama J. Lockington

Fortune Favours the Dead, (Series), Stephen Spotswood

Fresh, Margot Wood

H-0:

Harmony, London Price

Harrow the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Hench, (Series), Natalia Zina Walschots

Highly Illogical Behaviour, John Corey Whaley

Honey Girl, Morgan Rogers

How to Become a Planet, Nicole Melleby

How to Bite Your Neighbor and Win a Wager, (Series), D. N. Bryn

How to Sell Your Blood & Fall in Love, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites, Joy Demorra

I Am Not Alone, Francisco X. Stork

The Immeasurable Depth of You, Maria Ingrande Mora

In the Ring, Sierra Isley

Into The Drowning Deep, (Series), Mira Grant

Iron Widow, (Series), Xiran Jay Zhao

Izzy at the End of the World, K. A. Reynolds

Jodie's Journey, Colin Thiele

Just by Looking at Him, Ryan O'Connell

Kissing Doorknobs, Terry Spencer Hesser

Lakelore, Anna-Marie McLemore

Learning Curves, (Series), Ceillie Simkiss

Let's Call It a Doomsday, Katie Henry

The Library of the Dead, (Series), TL Huchu

The Lion Hunter, (Series), Elizabeth Wein

Lirael, (Series), Garth Nix

Long Macchiatos and Monsters, Alison Evans

Love from A to Z, (Series), S.K. Ali

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses, Kristen O'Neal

Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro

The Never Tilting World, (Series), Rin Chupeco

The No-Girlfriend Rule, Christen Randall

Nona the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Noor, Nnedi Okorafor

Odder Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Once Stolen, (Series), D. N. Bryn

One For All, Lillie Lainoff

On the Edge of Gone, Corinne Duyvis

Origami Striptease, Peggy Munson

Our Bloody Pearl, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Out of My Mind, Sharon M. Draper

P-T:

Parable of the Sower, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Parable of the Talents, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Percy Jackson & the Olympians, (series), Rick Riordan

Pomegranate, Helen Elaine Lee

The Prey of Gods, Nicky Drayden

The Pursuit Of..., (Series), Courtney Milan

The Queen's Thief, (Series), Megan Whalen Turner

The Quiet and the Loud, Helena Fox

The Raging Quiet, Sheryl Jordan

The Reanimator's Heart, (Series), Kara Jorgensen

The Remaking of Corbin Wale, Joan Parrish

Roll with It, (Series), Jamie Sumner

Russian Doll, (Series), Cristelle Comby

The Second Mango, (Series), Shira Glassman

Scar of the Bamboo Leaf, Sieni A.M

Shaman, (Series), Noah Gordon

Sick Kids in Love, Hannah Moskowitz

The Silent Boy, Lois Lowry

Six of Crows, (Series) Leigh Bardugo

Sizzle Reel, Carlyn Greenwald

The Spare Man, Mary Robinette Kowal

The Stagsblood Prince, (Series), Gideon E. Wood

Stake Sauce, Arc 1: The Secret Ingredient is Love. No, Really, (Series), RoAnna Sylver

Stars in Your Eyes, Kacen Callender [Expected release: Oct 2023]

The Storm Runner, (Series), J. C. Cervantes

Stronger Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Sweetblood, Pete Hautman

Tarnished Are the Stars, Rosiee Thor

The Theft of Sunlight, (Series), Intisar Khanani

Throwaway Girls, Andrea Contos

Top Ten, Katie Cotugno

Torch, Lyn Miller-Lachmann

Treasure, Rebekah Weatherspoon

Turtles All the Way Down, John Green

U-Z:

Unlicensed Delivery, Will Soulsby-McCreath Expected release October 2023

Verona Comics, Jennifer Dugan

Vorkosigan Saga, (Series), Lois McMaster Bujold

We Are the Ants, (Series), Shaun David Hutchinson

The Weight of Our Sky, Hanna Alkaf

Whip, Stir and Serve, Caitlyn Frost and Henry Drake

The Whispering Dark, Kelly Andrew

Wicked Sweet, Chelsea M. Cameron

Wonder, (Series), R. J. Palacio

Wrong to Need You, (Series), Alisha Rai

Ziggy, Stardust and Me, James Brandon

Graphic Novels:

A Quick & Easy Guide to Sex & Disability, (Non-Fiction), A. Andrews

Constellations, Kate Glasheen

Dancing After TEN: a graphic memoir, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Vivian Chong, Georgia Webber

Everything Is an Emergency: An OCD Story in Words Pictures, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Jason Adam Katzenstein

Frankie's World: A Graphic Novel, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The Golden Hour, Niki Smith

Nimona, N. D. Stevenson

The Third Person, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Emma Grove

Magazines and Anthologies:

Artificial Divide, (Anthology), Robert Kingett, Randy Lacey

Beneath Ceaseless Skies #175: Grandmother-nai-Leylit's Cloth of Winds, (Article), R. B. Lemburg

Defying Doomsday, (Anthology), edited by Tsana Dolichva and Holly Kench

Josee, the Tiger and the Fish, (short story) (anthology), Seiko Tanabe

Nothing Without Us, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Nothing Without Us Too, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Unbroken: 13 Stories Starring Disabled Teens, (Anthology), edited by Marieke Nijkamp

Uncanny #24: Disabled People Destroy Science Fiction, (Anthology), edited by: Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Dominik Parisien et al.

Uncanny #30: Disabled People Destroy Fantasy, (Anthology), edited by: Nicolette Barischoff, Lisa M. Bradley, Katharine Duckett

We Shall Be Monsters, edited by Derek Newman-Stille

Manga:

Perfect World, (Series), Rie Aruga

The Sky is Blue with a Single Cloud, (Short Stories), Kuniko Tsurita

Non-Fiction:

Academic Ableism: Disability and Higher Education, Jay Timothy Dolmage

A Disability History of the United States, Kim E, Nielsen

The Architecture of Disability: Buildings, Cities, and Landscapes beyond Access, David Gissen

Being Seen: One Deafblind Woman's Fight to End Ableism, Elsa Sjunneson

Black Disability Politics, Sami Schalk

Borderline, Narcissistic, and Schizoid Adaptations: The Pursuit of Love, Admiration, and Safety, Dr. Elinor Greenburg

Brilliant Imperfection: Grappling with Cure, Eli Clare

The Cambridge Companion to Literature and Disability, Barker, Clare and Stuart Murray, editors.

The Capacity Contract: Intellectual Disability and the Question of Citizenship, Stacy Clifford Simplican

Capitalism and Disability, Martha Russel

Care work: Dreaming Disability Justice, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Catatonia, Shutdown and Breakdown in Autism: A Psycho-Ecological Approach, Dr Amitta Shah

The Collected Schizophrenias: Essays, Esme Weijun Wang

Crip Kinship, Shayda Kafai

Crip Up the Kitchen: Tools, Tips and Recipes for the Disabled Cook, Jules Sherred

Culture – Theory – Disability: Encounters between Disability Studies and Cultural Studies, Anne Waldschmidt, Hanjo Berressem, Moritz Ingwersen

Decarcerating Disability: Deinstitutionalization and Prison Abolition, Liat Ben-Moshe

Demystifying Disability: What to Know, What to Say, and How to Be an Ally, Emily Ladau

Dirty River: A Queer Femme of Color Dreaming Her Way Home, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Disability Pride: Dispatches from a Post-ADA World, Ben Mattlin

Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories From the Twenty-First Century, Alice Wong

Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability and Making Space, Amanda Leduc

Every Cripple a Superhero, Christoph Keller

Exile and Pride: Disability, Queerness and Liberation, Eli Clare

Feminist Queer Crip, Alison Kafer

The Future Is Disabled: Prophecies, Love Notes, and Mourning Songs, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Growing Up Disabled in Australia, Carly Findlay

It's Just Nerves: Notes on a Disability, Kelly Davio

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Rebecca Skloot

Language Deprivation & Deaf Mental Health, Neil S. Glickman, Wyatte C. Hall

The Minority Body: A Theory of Disability, Elizabeth Barnes

My Body and Other Crumbling Empires: Lessons for Healing in a World That Is Sick, Lyndsey Medford

No Right to Be Idle: The Invention of Disability, 1840s-1930s, Sarah F. Rose

Nothing About Us Without Us: Disability Oppression and Empowerment, James I. Charlton

The Pedagogy of Pathologization Dis/abled Girls of Color in the School-prison Nexus, Subini Ancy Annamma

Physical Disability in British Romantic Literature, Essaka Joshua

QDA: A Queer Disability Anthology, Raymond Luczak, Editor.

The Right to Maim: Debility, Capacity, Disability, Jasbir K. Puar

Sitting Pretty, (memoir), Rebecca Taussig

Sounds Like Home: Growing Up Black & Deaf in the South, Mary Herring Wright

Surviving and Thriving with an Invisible Chronic Illness: How to Stay Sane and Live One Step Ahead of Your Symptoms, Ilana Jacqueline

The Things We Don't Say: An Anthology of Chronic Illness Truths, Julie Morgenlender

Uncanny Bodies: Superhero Comics and Disability, Scott T. Smith, José Alaniz

Uncomfortable Labels: My Life as a Gay Autistic Trans Woman, (memoir), Laura Kate Dale

Unmasking Autism, Devon Price

The War on Disabled People: Capitalism, Welfare and the Making of a Human Catastrophe, Ellen Clifford

We've Got This: Essays by Disabled Parents, Eliza Hull

Year of the Tiger: An Activist's Life, (memoir) (essays) Alice Wong

Picture Books:

A Day With No Words, Tiffany Hammond, Kate Cosgrove-

A Friend for Henry, Jenn Bailey, Mika Song

Ali and the Sea Stars, Ali Stroker, Gillian Reid

All Are Welcome, Alexandra Penfold, Suzanne Kaufman

All the Way to the Top, Annette Bay Pimentel, Jennifer Keelan-Chaffins, Nabi Ali

Can Bears Ski?, Raymond Antrobus, Polly Dunbar

Different -- A Great Thing to Be!, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

Everyone Belongs, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

I Talk Like a River, Jordan Scott, Sydney Smith

Jubilee: The First Therapy Horse and an Olympic Dream, K. T. Johnson, Anabella Ortiz

Just Ask!, Sonia Sotomayor, Rafael López

Kami and the Yaks, Andrea Stenn Stryer, Bert Dodson

My Three Best Friends and Me, Zulay, Cari Best, Vanessa Brantley-Newton

Rescue & Jessica: A Life-Changing Friendship, Jessica Kensky, Patrick Downes, Scott Magoon

Sam's Super Seats, Keah Brown, Sharee Miller

Small Knight and the Anxiety Monster, Manka Kasha

We Move Together, Kelly Fritsch, Anne McGuire, Eduardo Trejos

We're Different, We're the Same, and We're All Wonderful!, Bobbi Jane Kates, Joe Mathieu

What Happened to You?, James Catchpole, Karen George

The World Needs More Purple People, Kristen Bell, Benjamin Hart, Daniel Wiseman

You Are Enough: A Book About Inclusion, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

You Are Loved: A Book About Families, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

The You Kind of Kind, Nina West, Hayden Evans

Zoom!, Robert Munsch, Michael Martchenko

Plays:

Peeling, Kate O'Reilly

---

With an extra special thank you to @parafoxicalk @craftybookworms @lunod @galaxyaroace @shub-s @trans-axolotl @suspicious-whumping-egg @ya-world-challenge @fictionalgirlsworld @rubyjewelqueen @some-weird-queer-writer @jacensolodjo @cherry-sys @dralthon @thebibliosphere @brynwrites @aj-grimoire @shade-and-sun @ceanothusspinosus @edhelwen1 @waltzofthewifi @spiderleggedhorse @sleepneverheardofher @highladyluck @oftheides @thecouragetobekind @nopoodles @lupadracolis @elusivemellifluence @creativiteaa @moonflowero1 @the-bi-library @chronically-chaotic-cryptid for your absolutely fantastic contributions!

---

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stairnaheireann · 5 months

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#OTD in 1921 – In an extremely hostile environment over the Treaty debate, Michael Collins smells some dirty work and addresses the House.

MR. MICHAEL COLLINS: Mr. Speaker, there is just a little matter to which I would like to refer before anything else is said. It is this. My private office was raided last night and important books and documents were taken. Is there any member here who accepts responsibility for that raid? PRESIDENT DE VALERA: As head of the Government here I must say I know nothing whatever about any such…

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#Anglo-Irish Treaty #anti-Treaty #Arthur Griffith #Austin Stack #Éamon De Valera #Cathal Brugha #Dublin #History of Ireland #IRA #Ireland #Michael Collins #Sinn Fein

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stylesispunk · 5 months

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"The not so invisible string"

not outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader

masterlist | next chapter

summary: you and Joel were made right for each other in the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?

word count: 5k>>

warnings: angst, implications of cheating (emotional). Probably some grammar mistakes because I write things fast.

a/n: New fic alert! Hello, I got this idea and I wanted to write it, so this is going to be a series depending on how this part performs. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌

masterlist

dividers by @/saradika

When you’re young, you’re naïve

When you’re young, you know everything

But when you’re young, they assume you know nothing,

That’s why two people falling in love at the age of seventeen doesn’t seem interesting. People will assume a love like that, at that age is just a phase with a tragic ending. Tears, broken hearts, and the promises of never falling in love again.

But this one was different. You and Joel were different, two souls that had met at the age of five, growing up together as best friends, until one fell and then the other. One shared a kiss, and the best friends turned into lovers.

Isn’t that typical?

It was. Both of you knew, but still, you didn’t listen. Both of you become one soul, destined to be together since you were two kids playing hide and seek together.

Joel and you traveled the twisting roads of adolescence hand in hand as the years passed. Your shared love was a tapestry woven from the thread of shared dreams and whispered secrets.

Everything around you changed as well. From the carefree days of children to the turbulent storms of adolescence, your friendship has survived it all. Some tears fell like soft rain, washing away the doubts that crept into our hearts, and there were times of joy that resonated through the halls of your shared history.

Yet, with every rock on the road, you found the strength to rise again, your hands tightly intertwined. Joel became your confidant, the keeper of your fears, and the little light of hope during the darkest nights.

When you both turned seventeen, the very age at which outsiders claimed to be the year of mistakes and growing, one kiss changed everything. The connection between you both only deepened. And when the world might have seen you as naïve, you understood the profound love of your bond. It wasn’t a youthful infatuation; it was a love story written in the stars long before you were aware of its existence.

People whispered their doubts, predicting heartbreak and the inevitable end of your love story. Yet, in the quiet moments when it was just Joel and you against the world, you knew that your love was timeless. The promises made weren't born out of youthful exuberance; they were the solemn vows of two souls who had found their way to each other, over and over again, since the age of five.

Not even when you left Austin to go to college, the odds against you weren’t able to separate you. The odds seemed stacked against you, with skeptics murmuring that the challenges of a long-distance relationship would surely spell the end of your story. But you defied those expectations.

Letters and late-night calls became your lifelines, bridging the physical gap between you. Each word written and every shared moment over the phone felt like a testament to the enduring strength of your love. You didn’t let the rust grow between you, neither did he.

He was there the day you graduated, being the first face, you found across the room smiling back at you with proudness. Through that look and grin, there was an oath behind, not only the survival of your love but to distance emerging even stronger. He being there meant that, after this, you both could build your life together, get married, have children, and grow old together.

“I can’t wait to marry you” he whispered against your lips that night as you made love.

“And I can’t wait to be your wife” you whispered back, whimpering under his touch.

But with the past of the months, the fights started. He coming home late from work, and your struggling with finding a job added a layer of stress to your relationship. Frustration crept into our conversations, and what were once gentle whispers of love turned into heated exchanges, grappling with the frustration of job rejections and the sense of inadequacy that came with each disappointment. Joel, burdened by the demands of his career, found solace in the late hours at the office.

Spending time with a colleague you dislike because of their closeness, because he seemed to treat her the way he wasn’t treating you now.

Conversations about the state of your relationship became unavoidable. One evening, as the weight of your unspoken grievances hung heavy in the air.

"Joel, we can't keep going on like this. I need more from our relationship, and I can't shake off the feeling that you're finding solace elsewhere."

His response was a defensiveness grunt, speaking about the pressure at work, how he needed to prove himself, and how your job search struggles only added to his burden.

“So is it my fault?” You shouted.

Joel's expression shifted, caught off guard by the sharpness of my words. The defensiveness waned, replaced by a hint of realization. "No, it's not about fault," he began, his voice softer now, "but the pressure at work has been consuming me. I feel like I'm drowning, and I don't know how to balance everything." He sighed, “And you’re not even able to find a job” he added, the words hitting like a sharp jab amid our emotional battlefield.

He ended up calling you a mistake, and you called him a coward.

The room fell silent for a moment as the weight of your words sank. The frustration that had been simmering boiled over into a heated exchange. "A mistake?" you retorted, your voice edged with hurt and anger. "Is that how you see me? As some kind of burden or failure?"

Joel's expression shifted again, torn between regret and the lingering pressure that had driven him to lash out. "I didn't mean it like that," he began, but his attempt to backtrack only fueled the growing storm.

As the argument escalated, each word became a weapon in our emotional battlefield. Accusations flew, and the once-clear path of our relationship was now obscured by the fog of resentment and hurt. The dreams we had whispered to each other now seemed distant and unattainable, replaced by the harsh reality of you present.

“Maybe we should break up,” you said, motionless, tired of the fights. “And I will leave, and take the job I didn’t want to because I didn’t want to leave you here”

continued, the weight of the decision evident in my voice. The sacrifice echoed the painful truth that sometimes love, even when genuine, isn't always enough to weather the storms life throws your way.

Joel's eyes reflected a mix of surprise and realization, the gravity of the moment sinking in. The prospect of parting ways, of unraveling the life we had built together, cast a shadow over the room.

“Oh, are you surprised I’m not the failure you thought I was?” you asked, a bitter laugh escaping through the tears that spilled down your cheeks.

The room felt charged with the emotional storm of your shared history, the dreams you had woven now frayed and brittle. The vulnerability of that moment exposed the raw truth that love, no matter how deep, could sometimes prove inadequate in the face of life's relentless challenges.

Love has not always survived.

Joel's silence spoke volumes, his eyes reflecting the complexity of emotions that swirled within. The air felt heavy with regret, sadness, and the painful realization that a choice needed to be made.

And when the lack of words persisted, and in the heavy silence, you walked towards the bedroom, the weight of the decision settling into every step you took. The room, once a shared bright sanctuary, now witnessed the dismantling of a life we had built together.

In the dim light, you fumbled for your suitcase, hands trembling as you threw clothes inside. Each piece of clothing now felt like a painful reminder of what was slipping away. The vulnerability of that moment, intensified by the tears that blurred your vision, underscored the reality that sometimes love, despite its depth, couldn't shield us from the harshness of life's trials.

The sound of the zipper closing echoed in the room, marking the final choice that had been made. Joel remained in the doorway, a silent observer of the disintegration of a shared reality. His eyes, a mosaic of conflicting emotions, spoke of a recognition that what once was could no longer be sustained.

As you carried the suitcase, its weight mirrored the heaviness in your heart. The room, filled with the echoes of your memories from the past, felt emptier with every step toward the door. The unspoken pain lingered a palpable energy that accompanied you through the threshold of a life I had known so intimately.

The choice had been made, and in that moment, the gravity of our decision settled in—the dreams you had shared now relegated to the shadows of what could have been. The door closed behind you, and at that exact moment, you didn’t know how you were anymore, not when this was the first time you would start navigating life without Joel.

And then, when the months passed by, you were face to face again. He tried to change the ending, but it was late. He was going to be a father of a child that wasn’t yours.

And weeks later, on a night you were out, drinking all your tears and sadness, you met a guy, and three months after, you found out you were pregnant.

Joel and you were going to become parents, but with different people.

And it seemed like all people were telling the truth.

When you’re young you know nothing.

Thirteen years later...

Eyes focused on the road, breathe in, breathe out, thoughts wild around your head.

You were driving back to Austin, back to your past self, to the five-year-old you, back to the seventeen-year-old you, back to…

No, you thought.

Tara was sitting in the backseat, earphones in her ears probably listening to a song that would take her away from her reality, from moving from her home, leaving behind every single thing she grew up loving.

Just like you, you said to yourself.

“Hey, sweets are you okay?” you asked, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

“Can we stop for a burger? I’m hungry” She avoided the question, again

“Your father is waiting for us at our new house, then we will get lunch, okay?”

She nodded, not uttering more words. She nodded, offering no more words. Then, she broke the silence. "I’m mad. I’m mad at you for leaving your life behind for Dad."

Confused, you asked, "What are you talking about?"

“You just had your job that you loved back at home; you had your friends. I had my life too and now we have to move here just because Dad said so?” Tara's frustration spilled out.

“He got a better job, that means—”

“That means nothing,” she interrupted. “Look, Mom, I know he loves me, and that he may love you, but he has always loved himself more than us. I think it's unfair for you to leave all that behind just for him.”

“Tara,” you whispered, struck by her perceptiveness. You thought it was incredible how at thirteen she was so aware of every single detail, and how much he knew you.

“I know if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t leave that life behind,” Tara spoke, her words cutting through the tension in the car. "I know there’s no man you would have done that for.”

You took a moment to collect your thoughts, the weight of the revelation settling in before you spoke. "There was one man before," you confessed, catching Tara’s attention. "His name was Joel," you said, the words heavy with the weight of memories, almost feeling a lump forming in your throat.

As you mentioned Joel's name, the car seemed to carry an unspoken history. Tara's eyes widened with curiosity and surprise.

“He was my best friend when we were kids,” you began, a nostalgic smile playing on your lips. “We grew up together, faced the challenges of growing older, and eventually, we fell in love.”

“What happened to him?” she asked.

"We broke up, and just when we tried to get back together, he found out he got another woman pregnant," you explained.

"He cheated," Tara concluded, a hint of judgment in her tone.

"No, he didn’t, but... I couldn’t bear to be with him, so I left."

"And then you met Dad," she deduced.

You nodded, acknowledging the sequence of events that had shaped your life. The car carried the weight of shared revelations, and the road to Austin became a journey not only through physical landscapes but also through the landscapes of your history.

Tara sat in the backseat, absorbing the complexities of your past.

"But," you added, "even though Joel and I didn't end up together, he will always hold a special place in my heart. People come into our lives for a reason, and Joel was a significant chapter in my story."

The air inside the car was a combination of anxiety and reflection as it approached its new home in Austin. Tara sat quietly in the backseat, her thoughts appearing lost in the stories you had told, still absorbing the specifics of your past.

As you approached the curb, your tires crunched on the cobblestone driveway. The foreign exterior of the new house appeared before you like a blank canvas waiting to be painted with the colors of your new existence. Dwight, your husband, stood on the porch, a bright smile on his face as he noticed the car.

Exiting the vehicle, you opened the back door for Tara, and the three of you stood together in the driveway. Dwight approached, a mixture of excitement and curiosity in his eyes.

"Welcome home!" he exclaimed, wrapping both of you in a warm embrace.

Tara offered a half-smile, still processing the weight of the move and the revelations that had unfolded during the journey. Dwight, ever perceptive, sensed the mix of emotions in the air.

"How was the drive?" he inquired, glancing between you and Tara.

"Long," Tara replied tersely, her eyes flickering with a hint of weariness.

Dwight, aware of the challenges the move presented, placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I know it's not easy, Tara, but I promise you'll find your place here."

The aroma of fresh starts penetrated the air as the three of you entered your new home. Dwight gave Tara a quick tour of the house, pointing out the right closets and stating to her that moving would be a good thing.

Dwight and Tara began to develop their rhythm of connection while unpacking boxes and settling into the unfamiliar home. The new place of residence began to turn from a new area to an area where shared memories would be established as the day progressed.

You couldn't help but think about Joel as you gazed around at the shifting landscape of your life, the echoes of the past fading into the background as you welcomed the present and the promise of a new chapter in your life in Austin.

It had been a week since Tara started school here, and she had begun to settle at the new school, at the unfamiliar hallways, and faces that were yet to become friends. Adjusting to a new environment, especially in the tumultuous teenage years, was never an easy feat.

That’s what you feared the most.

One afternoon, as you were going about your routine at the new house, your phone rang. The caller ID displayed the school's number, and a wave of concern washed over you. You answered with a sense of trepidation, already fearing the worst.

"Hello, this is Mrs. Evans from High School. Am I speaking with Tara's mother?"

"Yes, this is her mother. Is everything okay?" you asked, your heart racing.

"I'm calling to inform you that there was an incident at school today involving Tara. There was a fight, and we need you to come in for a meeting to discuss the situation."

A mix of worry and confusion filled the air as you tried to process the information. A fight? This was entirely out of character for Tara.

"Of course, I'll be there," you replied, a knot forming in your stomach.

As you arrived at the high school, a knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach. The unfamiliar hallways seemed to close in around you as you made your way to the principal's office. Tara and another girl with curly hair stood outside the door,

Behind the curly-haired girl, a man loomed, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat at the possibility, dismissing the improbable thought as wishful thinking. As you walked ahead, the distance between you and the trio narrowed.

Entering the principal's office, the air seemed charged with tension. Mrs. Evans greeted you, her expression stern but professional. However, your attention was drawn to the man beside you, and when you finally looked, Joel stood there, his mouth agape, his eyes locked onto yours.

Time seemed to hang suspended in that moment as a flood of emotions washed over you—surprise, disbelief, and a surge of memories that had long been tucked away. The collision of your past and present felt surreal, and the room seemed to blur around the edges.

You were 22 again.

Neither of you said anything, instead, you allowed the principal to talk about the situation that had happened.

Mrs. Evans, proceeded to share the details of the incident with a measured tone, bringing the focus back to Tara and her well-being. As she spoke, you and Joel maintained an uneasy silence, glancing at each other intermittently with expressions that betrayed a mixture of emotions.

"There was an unfortunate incident earlier today," Mrs. Evans began, her gaze shifting between you and Joel. "Tara and another student, Sarah, found themselves in a situation where a group of boys was bothering Tara. Sarah intervened to defend her, and the situation escalated into a physical altercation."

Your concern for Tara heightened, but a glimmer of gratitude surfaced as you heard about Sarah's protective stance. You stole a glance at Joel, whose eyes betrayed a complex mix of emotions—perhaps a reflection of his own memories and regrets.

"Both Tara and Sarah are being appropriately addressed," Mrs. Evans continued, her eyes shifting between the individuals in the room. "We take any form of violence seriously, but we also recognize the need to ensure our students feel safe and supported."

As the principal delved into the steps being taken to address the situation, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the reunion with Joel in such unexpected circumstances. The shared concern for Tara momentarily bridged the gap of years and unresolved emotions, creating an unspoken connection.

The meeting concluded with an agreement on counseling for Tara and a commitment to monitoring the situation closely. As you rose to leave, the weight of the encounter lingered. So, you took Tara, delicately by the arm, and walked away from the ghosts from your past.

“Hey, Tara wait!” The voice of Sarah called out, getting closer to us.

Tara stopped in her tracks and turned to face the girl with beautiful curly hair, with a smile on her face.

“What?” Tara asked delicately.

“I want you to know I don’t regret what I did for you” She began, “And I have no idea what is like to be in new a place because I’ve always been here, and I also want you to know that you have a friend here. I will defend you from all those stupid guys making fun of you”

A grin appeared on your daughter’s face at Sarah's words, and she enveloped the girl in a hug murmuring a quiet “thank you” you had still been able to hear.

Your heart burst, not only for the happiness of your daughter finding a friend but for the tranquility she would feel from now on. Yet you couldn’t bear to lift your gaze from the girls because you knew once you did it, you would have to look at the same face that made you leave this city.

“Okay, Tara it’s time to go home,” you said, delicately grabbing your daughter’s arm, “and thank you, Sarah, for what you did for her”

“No problem” she said, smiling at you.

Once you both, said goodbye, you and Tara walked toward the car until a voice made you both stop your pace, and your heart beated like a drum.

“Yes?” you turned around, finding the strength to face Joel.

“I think it may be great for us to talk about our daughters” Joel spoke, buying some more seconds of your presence.

“Everything is clear." your voice came in a monotonous tone.

“But not between us” he said, with an undertone.

But instead of words, a heat overcame you, and you felt the skin around your eyes burn, you lifted you hand to your eyes, preventing the tears welled up in the corner to fall. But once you did it, you started crying, not knowing how to react and facing your past in front of you, how facing the man you had loved your whole life after thirteen years without any trace of him.

Joel took a step closer, his expression concerned. "I didn't mean to upset you," he said, his voice softening.

You took a deep breath, attempting to compose yourself. “It’s okay,” you said, taking a step back from his touch “I’m just stressed with all the changes” you lied, and grace a tiny smile towards him “We can talk another day when I’m settled.”

He simply nodded, caressing his chest with the palm of his hand in an attempt to take away the pain and confusion of seeing you again.

With a daughter, and probably married to another man.

“Drive safe,” he said, with a caring touch in his voice.

You nodded, turning on your heel, walking towards the car without looking back.

“You know her, don’t you?” Sarah asked his father, after seeing his longing expression as he watched you walking away from him.

“I did once,” he said, still looking at your car as if you would get out and tell him you wanted to try again.

And inside the car, the events weren’t different from outside. Once you put your seatbelt, Tara kept looking at you as if you were going to break at any moment.

“He is that Joel, right?” She asked you carefully, trying to get her answer.

You nodded.

Tara nodded, her expression was pure concern "Are you okay, Mom?"

You managed a reassuring smile, even though the tears still lingered in the corners of your eyes. "I'll be fine, sweetheart. It's just unexpected to see him again after so many years."

You took a glimpse in the rearview mirror as you drove away from the curb, leaving Joel standing there. As your mind lingered on a sudden encounter, the familiar surroundings began to blend as well. Your heart was heavier with the burdens of the days gone by, and the tears you pushed back threatened to spill over, again.

As you drove home, the stillness between you and Tara was loaded with unspoken feelings. Your mind raced with old memories, and you couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling of weakness that Joel's comeback had caused in you.

What were the odds? You thought.

Meanwhile, Joel stood still, watching the car disappear into the distance. The question asked by Sarah still hanging in the air. "You know her, don't you?" Sarah questioned her father, who appeared to be absorbed in the memories that your presence had triggered.

As he tried to make sense of what was happening, his mind was in a rush of emotions. It felt strange and overwhelming to see you after thirteen years. The agony of the past came forward, and he felt for just a moment like an outsider in his own life, watching the movie of the both of you being played all over again.

Joel paused briefly before breaking the silence. "I've missed you," he said, his eyes scanning your face for signs of reconciliation.

You nodded, attempting to conceal the residual worries that had grown during the three months you had spent away from each other “I've missed us as well. Perhaps we should try again," you reasoned.

However, as the talk progressed, the truth began to appear like a storm on the other side of the sky. Joel's hesitation hinted at something more serious, something he had been holding him back.

"But first, I need to tell you something," he finally admitted, looking down at the floor. "I got involved with someone else during our time apart."

The look on your face was enough for him to know that the news he was about to deliver was going to change everything between the both of you.

“She is pregnant.” He confessed, almost inaudible.

The room seemed to shrink as the weight of his words settled in. Shock and disbelief mingled with the pain of what it seemed as a betrayal in your mind, but you knew it wasn’t. You had hoped for a fresh start, but this revelation shattered those hopes.

He had a girl to take care of, a baby he was going to love.

"You're going to be a father?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. The reality of the situation was a heavy blow, and you struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the news.

Joel nodded; his eyes filled with remorse. "I didn't plan for this. It just happened."

“No. I don’t need an explanation of what you did when we weren’t together” Hurt, and resignation welled up inside you. "But we cannot be together. No, when you’re going to have a child with someone else. It’s not fair to any of us.”

Joel's remorse-filled gaze met yours, and he nodded in acknowledgment of the reality you both faced. The dreams of rekindling what once was seemed to crumble in that moment, replaced by the harsh truth of divergent paths.

"This doesn’t change anything between us," Joel whispered, his voice laden with regret, trying to reach for you.

“It does!” you called out, “It does change everything” You took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the waves of emotion crashing within. "I hope you find the happiness you're looking for, Joel. But it can't be with me."

You stepped closer to him, cupping one side of his face with your hand, tracing his cheek with your thumb, and trying to take a picture of him with your eyes.

One last picture, the last time you will have him this close to you.

And you leaned in, sealing this goodbye with a last kiss, savoring the sweet taste of his lips mixed with the salt of his tears streaming down your face. He grabbed your face with his last strength holding you back from slipping from his fingers, but once you pulled away, and looked at him one last time.

Then, you turned away, leaving the room, and, in a way, leaving a chapter of your life behind. The door closed with a soft click, sealing the end of a love story that had once held a promise, but it ended with Joel losing his princess.

“Let’s go, baby girl,” he said after a moment, wrapping his arm around Sarah, and walking to the car.

Tara kept stealing glances at you from the passenger seat, sensing the urgency of the scenario. The worry could be seen in her eyes, and you couldn't help but notice how perceptive she had become.

The car pulled to a stop in front of your house, which had become your new home in a place of spirits of the buried skeletons plotted to ruin your life. Tara unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face you; her face filled with apprehension. "Mom, if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here."

You smiled, grateful for the depth of understanding and maturing in your daughter's eyes. "Thank you, sweetheart. I appreciate that."

As you both entered the house, the now familiar surroundings did little to ease the whirlwind of emotions within you. The past had a way of resurfacing when you least expected it, and Joel's reappearance had reopened wounds you thought had healed.

Once inside, in the quiet living room, your Dwight welcomed both of you with a smile on his face, “Hey is everything okay with you Tara?”

“Yes, Dad, just a misunderstanding,” he said, as if the matter wasn’t important, passing beside upstairs.

As you and your husband were left alone, he sensed something wrong with you.

"Hey, love, is everything okay?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for a glimpse of the truth.

You forced a smile, attempting to push away the turmoil that threatened to surface. "Yeah, just a blast from the past today.”

Dwight wrapped his arms around you, a gesture of comfort that, for a moment, allowed you to forget the complexities of the day. He pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, and as the warmth of his touch enveloped you, a pang of guilt swept through the figment of your mind, and you couldn’t help but feeling ashamed of yourself for tasting the lips of a man you had settled with because you couldn’t stay with the love of your life.

And you feel disgusted of wanting for him to be Joel.

And at the same time in a different place in the same city, Joel was dreaming of you again.

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softboo · 2 months

Text

love me, ever so gently

pairing: austin butler x reader

summary: you recently moved to a new apartment, making new some eccentric friends along the way. but what you didn't expect was falling in love with a stranger. a stranger you somehow couldn't stop thinking about

words: 2.1k

warnings: depictions of domestic abuse, dark themes of relationships

author's note: i made this on an extremely impulsive whim and i have never been so terrified of posting this. my anxiety of trying to make this story went from writing this for three days straight to now suddenly having multiple parts. i'm literally almost done with part III so we'll see how far this goes. hopefully you like my very first fic... i haven't written in years... ehh... and thank you in advance for reading this :3

next part

part I

"you're either incredibly talented or horribly lousy."

george stated right before you tore down the stack of books from the pile. you groaned in frustration, ignoring that thing buried right under the surface of your heart. if bookstores and libraries could make something aesthetically pleasing, then so could you. just like you were able to do a year ago.

you huffed once more before starting the process over again.

george took your silence as a precautionary warning, tentatively placing a small cup of coffee next to you, hoping maybe a little space and some caffeine couldn't hurt your pride more than he did.

"as long as you don't make a mess, it makes my job a thousand times easier," he offered you a toothy, yet slightly lopsided grin before leaving you to your uncomplicated complicated endeavors.

george circled around the remaining tables that were also still being set up for the fair at the community center. you were a regular volunteer for these events, moreso because your neighbors invited you to them in the first place. one of your neighbors being george, who hobbled right back to where you were, smiling proudly at his empty tray.

"well, my services are done."

he flashed another innocent grin before leaving you be, "make sure you get that done before cass sees you!"

"george I'm going to throw this empty tray at you."

he let out a belly laugh, even though he was as thick as a twig. he pulled you over to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"there she is!"

you rolled your eyes at him, but couldn't help a smile. you still remember when you met him for the first time.

~ ~

your first week at the new apartment building was stressful enough, splitting your belongings in each individualized box and suitcase. and somehow through all that stress, someone as joyous as george just so happened to crash right into you with all of his groceries.

and he had this distinct smell, something between a book you haven't opened in years and an old worn out knitted sweater. at the time, he greeted you like you've been friends for years, something you deeply missed when you moved away from your hometown. from everyone.

"welcome to the neighborhood!!" he screamed in your ear, forgetting his hearing aids before he left for the store. you let out a polite, yet awkward, kind of laugh, thanking him for his very enthusiastic greeting. it's funny to look back on it now, a stranger you would've never imagined becoming friends with. including everyone else you met along the way.

~ ~

evelyn and cassandra peered from the hallway behind you, coming from the kitchen. cassandra with her big box of jewelry for her stand, while evelyn followed suit.

"did george call me cass again? i hate when he calls me cass. it sounds like ass."

"because you are an ass."

cassandra shot him a quick glaring look before he started laughing again, placing her boxes down. she pointed a shaky finger at him.

"you know one of these days, i really hope i end up dying before you. i can't stand that laugh of yours." she grumbled, which made you laugh.

"can't keep a happy man down cass. you're stuck with me forever," he bellowed, leaving a messy kiss on her cheek before she swatted him away. george dramatically saluted them before hobbling away again, wanting to mingle and socialize before the fair officially opens.

cassandra gathered her things once more as she eyed your table with a sense of pride.

"you never cease to amazing me sweetie. i always love how you decorate your books."

her words swelled in your heart and that thing that was buried right under the surface dissipated, only just for a moment. and you were completely and utterly okay with that.

"thanks cassie..." your voice drifting ever so softly. like she was going to catch it in the end like she always does.

~ ~

when you met cassandra last year, you heard her voice before you saw her. you were seated at the lobby of your apartment building, waiting for a blind date that never picked you up. it was about two hours before you decided to call it and when you looked up, you saw her.

she was a bright eyed woman, her grey hair tossed behind a small pink scarf, something you've only seen worn a few times or rather only in movies. she looked at you with a look of concern. you weren't crying of course, why waste tears on some stranger right?

but you got your hopes up immensely high and someone as experienced in her years as she was, she could tell a disappointed look when she saw one.

"oh my dear, what's the matter? are you hurt?"

you shook your head no, having no energy to formally respond with a voice.

"come here love, let's bring you back home. do you live here?"

you nodded.

she waddled her way towards you, keeping you close to her. she was a tiny woman, hunched over slightly as she led you to the elevator. once you were both inside, she asked what floor you were on and pressed the appropriate button for you. her floor being the one below yours.

"sorry we have to stop at mine first..." she began and you shook her head to stop her.

"don't be. it's okay... i was heading up anyway." you finally had strength to talk again, "i should be saying sorry for keeping you from getting home."

she scoffed at your response, displaying one of the warmest smiles you've ever seen.

"sweetie, you're doing me a favor."

the elevator dinged and opened to her floor, the woman turning to walk out.

"i am?" you asked her and she nodded, standing outside the elevator doors.

"yes. because no man deserves to make someone as lovely as you this sad."

your face went from feeling defeated to utter confusion as the woman smiled again. this time knowing exactly what you were going to ask.

"i know disappointment when i see it."

and just like that, the elevator door closed.

~ ~

"how are you feeling otherwise?" cassandra asked you, momentarily glancing over at your beautiful table.

"better. only sometimes," you responded, a lump suddenly appearing in your throat. feeling as if you were half lying somewhere.

"that's okay. just remember that someone who's broken you then doesn't deserve to break you now," she gently held your cheek, looking at you as if for the first time again.

"and besides, who knows who you'll might meet today."

~ ~

cassandra's words rung in your ears, weighing heavy on a hopelessly romantic heart. being alone was easy and you weren't lying if you admitted that to anyone because it was true. that was one of the perks of moving here, along with meeting all of your new friends.

but being lonely... that was difficult. especially when the fall season would blend into the holidays. one night after the other. because everyone seemed to find their someone by the times gifts were supposed to be given. which is why you wanted to put everything into the community fair this year.

and because heartbreak anniversaries were apparently a thing on your calendar.

you glanced over at your table, the last few books lingered for awhile. some people glancing over at them, while others would pick it up just to place it back down again. you didn't really know why seeing a book not being chosen hurt a small part of you. but it did.

or maybe you knew but didn't want to face it.

soon enough, you noticed someone hovering near the entrance, like he was contemplating whether or not to let his curiousity get the best of him. it may have been a little more than an hour or so when he actually approached your table.

you quickly stood up in response, as you noticed him eyeing a few of the older books. his hands lingered on each cover, not saying a word. his hair was blonde, wavy and messy, like he'd just woken up. the rest of him was covered by a black mask.

you did notice the way his hands moved though, hesitating to pick something. shaking a bit, a shadow crossed your peripheral and you could've sworn you saw a bruise somewhere on his knuckles.

"do you need help finding anything?" your voice coming out a lot softer than you had hoped. he looked up and you felt this entire weight lift off of you. like something encapsulating you just shattered into a million pieces and suddenly you could breathe again.

his eyes were so blue, like you were swimming in this endless ocean full of life and somehow you couldn't tell the difference between the stillness of the water or the blueness of the sky.

you could see a slight smiling forming on his face before he shook his head no.

"oh well if you want anything... i really recommend any of the classics."

his eyes glimmered a bit, letting his hand linger on one of the few books he was eyeing before.

"how much is it?" his deep tone caught you by surprise as you hesitated to respond. your own voice catching in your throat.

"oh um... everything is free."

"really?"

and just like that, you noticed something switch in him, a sense of curiosity filling those calm waters.

"which ones have you read so far?"

you didn't realize it, but your eyes lit up at the question. and he noticed. a small smile forming on his face.

"oh this one is my favorite... i haven't finished it, but it was really good from where i left off," you pointed at pride and prejudice.

you smiled at him, like your excitement was taking over and he could tell how much you loved talking about books. his gaze never wavering as you spoke about the stories that overwhelmed you and the others that never lasted a few pages before you decided to stop. he listened with such intent, such intrigue, it made you feel like you were someone he had known for years.

his aura was beautiful and a part of you wished that something would lead to something which would lead to something else. you didn't even feel anything in that regard, not yet anyway, but that same part. it was pulling... gently. ever so gently tugging at your heart.

"thank you for all of your recommendations," he began, holding on to ever single book you spoke about. you were about to protest that he didn't have to, but he was adament on keeping every single one.

"are you sure you want to get all of them?" your voice wavering on worry, but all he did was smile at you, letting out a soft laugh.

"i'm sure."

his voice was so reassuring, you almost forgot to offer him a bag. there was a slight pause before you realized, eyes widened in embarrassment.

you quickly apologized to him, running to the back to get a bag. you left the table feeling this overwhelming warmness flow through you as you noticed your heart beating against your chest. you tried to hide the excitement, but your heart was already getting your hopes too high.

but when you came back, your heart instantly dropped right into your stomach. a woman was now standing next to him, but something was different in his eyes. the oceans were no longer waves crashing against the seashore. they were climbing under thunderstorms. drowning in its own current.

her hair was dark red in color, flowing to accentuate the curves of her body. she was unbelievably gorgeous and your heart sank even more. but there was something about her that you couldn't figure out.

"here's your bag, i didn't mean to—"

"why your table is absolutely gorgeous, isn't it austin?"

he didn't glance at you or her or anyone. all he did was nod. you noticed the grip she had on his arm. it was tight. suffocating.

you offered the bag to them, but she shooed your hand away, like you were merely just a bug.

"no need sweetie, we were just on our way out. he was just looking anyway."

you tried your best to keep your composure, but you were fuming on the inside. only cassandra could call you that and at least when she did, it was endearing. not spiteful.

she flashed you the biggest smile that fueled your fire even more as she pulled austin away. you noticed him stiffen when they left the table. he couldn't even look at you.

and he couldn't even say goodbye.

#austin butler #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #fic writing #austin butler x you #first fic #i want to cry #i actually hate him

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lindszeppelin · 2 years

Text

Show Me Your Wild Side

pairing: Austin Butler x Fem!Reader

summary: Austin has been your adoring boyfriend for quite some time now. On a rainy day spent inside, you two spend some much needed quality time together. pretty simple premise but will pack a punch...trust me.

rating: Mature, 18+. Minors, get yo self outta here! Avert your eyes.

warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, dom and sub dynamic, edging/orgasm denial, thigh riding, over-sensitivity. maybe more i forgot to mention?

word count: 10.2k. listen, i didn’t come to play around.

a/n: Hey loves!! This is my first go at writing fanfiction in years, so do forgive any grammatical errors and things like that. I hope you enjoy!

tags: @elvisstyles

From the moment you first set your eyes on Austin Butler, you knew he was gonna be trouble -- but the best kind. He courted you properly like the gentleman he is, taking his time with you. Getting to know all the little details about you and making sure to remember important things you told him like names, dates, places you loved to visit, your favorite things. That sickeningly sweet honeymoon phase that usually fizzles out after a few months with most couples never went away with you two. In fact, your love story is still drenched in desire. The flame between you both never dying out, only getting stronger as time goes on. You were a perfect match.

Not long after he successfully wooed you into his life, he offered for you to live with him full time. He was bi-coastal, spending the majority of his time in California, but he had a little loft in Manhattan that complimented your already existing lifestyle. This was where the two of you would start to make a home that was yours. He didn’t complain when you took over half of the available bathroom sink space with your makeup and hair tools -- in fact, he bought you your own vanity table that you knew was far too expensive, but he wanted to show how much he appreciated you.

Your perfectly imperfect lives intermingled like something out of a fairytale. Suddenly you were not just two people coexisting in the same space. You were one in the same. It was the little things about one another that made the love deepen with each day. A prime example -- When he would get sucked into a new script he was reading, he had a pen he would use to take notes that would find permanent residence in his mouth, the cap of it being chewed to smithereens by the time he was finished annotating. The little gnawing noises and hums he made was one of his quirks that might drive anyone else batshit insane. But you loved him for it.

Slowly but surely, you managed to fine a routine within your busy lives. The weekends specifically were centered around one on one time with each other. No one else, no distractions, just you and Austin. The day would typically start with a slow, passionate love making session in bed, followed by breakfast and maybe some light reading. You two also loved to play board games and had stacks upon stacks high up to the ceiling of old fashioned games and puzzles -- he was a master Monopoly player, and you a wiz at Scrabble. As the day turns into evening, you would make a homecooked meal together, which he loved to do with you. Cooking was one of his love languages. He couldn’t get enough of your reactions to his creations -- how you sighed in delight at a new recipe he was trying out. It made his heart soar. And to cap off the night, you two either found yourselves dancing to records or you put on a movie. Some of the times you actually watched the film, but it usually ended with clothes on the floor and you two fucking into the early morning hours.

Today was one of these nights. You and Austin lay comfortably in your king sized bed, the blinds were open just enough so that the orange hues from the New York sunset were cascading over you. The pitter patter of rain landing delicately along the old rusty windows of your loft added to the relaxing ambiance. On the tv in front of you was A Street Car Named Desire, one of yours and Austin’s favorite films. You both had an affinity for classic films.

This was your version of heaven on Earth. Nothing else mattered but you and him exactly like this -- his arm draped along your waist pulling you into his side, his fingers lightly dancing across your silk nightie. Your head rested on his chest, his heart beating a steady rhythm became one of your most favorite sounds. This was perfection, and you wanted to trap time in a bottle so it could never be forgotten.

At some point during the night, you had dozed off into a peaceful slumber in his embrace. He didn’t really notice right away, as he was paying attention to the film. But he turned his attention away from the movie for a split second and looked down at the sight before him -- you asleep in his arms. He smiled warmly, wondering if he should continue to let you rest or rouse you. He decided on the latter.

“Y/N?” He shook you gently. The hand that was glued to your waist found its way into your hair, stroking your head with such care as he turned and kissed you awake on your forehead.

“Hmm?” You stirred beneath him and slowly lifted your head up to meet his gaze. You could look deep into Austin’s crystalline blue eyes all day. They sparkled with nothing but pure love and adoration for you, his girl.

“Sorry doll, I was just checking on you, You were silent for a long while.”

“Oh shit, did I miss the part where Stanley tries to win Stella back?”

He chuckled. His hand left your head and trailed it’s way slowly down your back, his fingers grazing your spine in a way that made you shiver at his touch. “ ‘fraid so baby. The movie’s almost over.”

“Damn, that’s my favorite part too.” You whined.

“I mean, between us both I think we’ve watched this film at least 1000 times. You didn’t really miss anything.” He reasoned.

“I know! But there’s something about that scene that I love. Sure, Stanley is an asshole. But it’s kinda romantic when he calls out for her, pleading with her to take him back. And she goes to him like she knew she would. Then he whisks her away in his arms.” You signed, somehow even getting more comfortable around Austin’s tall frame as you drape your leg over one of his. You always were a big hopeless romantic. And he was too, which made you somehow swoon over him even more than you ever thought was possible. Any book, song, or film to do with love was exactly what you were both into. And these classic films just knew how to paint the perfect picture of a love story that unfurls with such realism. It reminded you of what you cultivated with Austin -- an unbreakable, cherished bond.

You snuggled deeper into him now, and placed a tiny kiss upon his chest before your ear found it’s way back home to his heartbeat. The corners of his lips upturned in a content smile. He appreciates your sentimentality for the classics like he does, and your idealistic way of looking at the world.

“Yeah, you’re right baby I like that moment too. When I first started getting into acting as a kid I studied that scene far too many times. Probably annoyed the hell outta my parents. Brando is just phenomenal.” Austin could ramble on for days about his extreme love of film, but he stops himself short, leaving it at that. You thought it was so cute when he would open up to you about his passion for the arts. It was such a turn on seeing your man’s face light up about the subject. You wouldn’t mind listening him drone on about it until his voice was hoarse. And some days you did just that.

“mmm.” You hummed peacefully. He let himself stare at you for a little while and tried to commit this to memory. It was unfortunate that his hectic work schedule left you two with not a lot of time during the week. On those particular moments of separation, he would dive deep into the recesses of his mind for all the delicious remembrances of you and get off on them.

He made sure to remember your soft skin, your long hair cascading down your back that tickled his arm draped around your waist, the feminine floral scent of your perfume lingering all around him, sticking to his clothes. Your silk nightie riding up your thigh, showing him a bit of tantalizing skin. And of course, one of his favorite mental notes, the way your ass fit perfectly in the palms of his big masculine hands. It was intoxicating.

Austin eventually came back down to reality after being lost in his own fantasies and brought his other hand up to his face, checking the time on the vintage watch that adorned his wrist. It was getting really late and the film was basically over at this point. He took the remote beside him and switched off the tv. The room was now filled with a comfortable silence, the sound of the rain, and your combined breathing. Total bliss.

“What do you think, you wanna get ready for bed?” He asked you, in a low rasp that reverberated within you, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up to attention.

“No not yet...not yet. i don’t wanna move ” You squeezed yourself even more impossibly tighter to his body, melting into him. You definitely were not planning on letting him go anytime soon. He was okay with that.

“Alright, i’ll allow you to keep using me as your personal pillow for a little while longer.” He joked. He definitely was not complaining either. Austin could stay in this position for the rest of his life. And he was the comfiest pillow you’ve ever had the pleasure of resting on.

“Good, cause i like it here.”

“Me too.” He cooed.

Contentment. Pure, unadulterated contentment. You and Austin laid there in bed, happily enjoying each others company. As you allow yourself to just simply be with him in this moment, you fluttered your eyes closed and honed in on every sensation he was making you feel. Just as it was so intoxicating for him to be around you, he had you wrapped around his little finger. You were completely at his mercy. Even when he wasn’t trying to be sexy, he just naturally was. All the time. Never have you met a man that brought you to your knees as quickly as Austin. Just the faintest touch or a certain look from him could make you crack.

You focused intently on the way his finger tips were drawing lazy circles on your back. His calluses from many years of guitar playing were rough, but it elicited such an electrifying buzz, sending a chill of pleasure running throughout your body. This sensual act alone was enough to start the coil turning in your stomach. Your leg that was hung over his rose up just a little higher, daring to make contact with the part of him you craved. His jean clad thigh resting flush against your soft core stirred the fire within you. The lace panties you were wearing were sure to be drenched any moment, and yet again you’d have to toss them and buy yourself another pair. But what the hell, if that’s one of the prices you pay for being with this gorgeous man, then that was alright with you.

You bit your lip to stifle the tiniest moan that wanted to escape your lips. You wanted to devour him whole and send him reeling down the path of aching desire for you -- moaning your name, spilling inside of you hot and fast while he peppered your body with wet kisses, milking him for every last drop of his come. This was now your sole mission for tonight. You needed him.

Slowly peeling your upper body away from him, your large doe eye bore into his with intense lust. Your hand that was lovingly resting on his stomach was now making it’s way up to land in the crook of his neck. Your thumb tenderly stroked his jaw, and he flexed beneath your delicate hand. Austin didn’t even need you to utter a single word for him to understand what you wanted.

He was no match for the sexual prowess you beguiled him with. Your cheeks were flush, hot and red for him. That was one of your telltale signs that you were yearning for him, he knew your body all too well. You may be the sweetest little thing, acting all innocent around other people. But when it’s just you and him in a room together, the sexual hunger is so intense it drives you both wild with passion. He loved that special side of you that no other man gets to see. Only he can make you come in a matter of seconds, and that knowledge is powerful.

As he stared back at his beautiful girl gazing at him with an innate yearning for his touch, he too felt the embers inside of him start to unfurl. The energy in the room shifted, the primal desire to be inside of you was the only thing that mattered. Austin’s shaky hand reached out to cup your face tenderly. Adrenaline coursing through his veins. He needed you too, and now.

“Aus...”

As soon as his name left your lips, he was on you in a flash. Wasting no time in crashing his plush mouth onto yours. Your lips danced together in tandem, perfectly in sync with one another -- pushing and pulling exactly when warranted. It was so sensual and laced with want. He had one hand tangled in your soft hair, and the other one clutching onto your waist desperate for your curves against him. You shimmied a little higher up onto his leg, still not letting yourself get too close to his cock. You wanted to savor every bit of this feeling right now.

Each moment your lips met you relished in the way he worked his mouth against you. He was delicate, as if not wanting to break you, but yet pining inexplicably for you in every feasible way. His tongue probed your bottom lip, testing you to see if you would let him in. And you do, eagerly. Soon enough your sweet, wanton kisses turned hot and sloppy. The rich taste of bourbon from dinner was still lingering on his breath, and the seductive taste of his mouth on yours had you moaning into him. He happily swallowed every noise you made, and returned them right back to you. God you loved it when he let himself unravel into nothing but whimpers. Knowing that you were the one to elicit such delicious sounds from him made you instantly soaked.

With your leg still tangled over his, you roll your hips into a position where your core was directly in contact against his upper thigh. You reluctantly pulled away from his flushed, pouting mouth to prop your hands on his chest for leverage, angling yourself in such a way that your clit was rubbing right against him. As you rolled your hips you let a slew of breathy moans fall from your lips, looking him square in the eye as you grind your wetness against his leg. His chest heaves, so turned on by you mewling and writhing on top of him. To think that this is how you react with just his leg has him dying to have his way with your pussy in the most sinful ways.

“Fuck. So needy for me, baby.” He places his hands on your hips and grounds you even harder against his leg, picking up the pace just a tad. Your panties can no longer contain how turned on you are, and your juices starts to seep out into a giant wet spot on his jeans. He doesn’t care one bit. Seeing you fall apart in his hands makes him rock hard.

“Austin...I...” You have your head thrown back in euphoria. You could easily come like this in a matter of mere seconds. However, you definitely need more of him. You want every single inch of him all at once to fill you completely. But your brain is too fuzzy to relay any of this to him. Only his name repeated over and over again like a prayer is what you choose to latch on to.

“Come on baby, use your words.” He eggs you on, biting his bottom lip. He digs his fingers a little more into your hips, sure that it would leave bruises on your delicate skin. You try your best to muster up something to say but you’re still on cloud 9.

“I need...I need you.”

Amused by how completely blissed out you are riding his thigh, he lets out a devilish chuckle. “That’s a start,” He lets go of your hips with one of his hands, placing his thumb and forefinger on your chin, tilting your head down to meet his striking blue eyes that have turned dark with carnal lust. “How do you need me? Let it out.” He growled.

As much as you desperately need Austin to fuck you senseless into the bed and have you screaming, you still wanted to keep the sensuality going. Foreplay was his specialty, and he was a generous giver. He knew exactly how to use his fingers and mouth to have you crumbling beneath him. As you keep grinding down on him, your clit throbs at the image of his tongue lapping up your juices. This is what you needed.

“I need you...to eat me out.” You finally answered back eagerly. You were not beneath begging for Austin to take you. The submissive side of you loved to be unashamed at how desperate for Austin you were. And to him, there was nothing hotter in this world than seeing you beg for him.

His lips twitched into a smirk. He fucking loved how much you wanted him in every possible way. And if one thing was certain right now, it was that he was going to eat you out like he was a starved man in search of sustenance.

He swallowed thickly. “Sit on my face babygirl.”

Your heart thumped hard in your chest at hearing those naughty words come out of his mouth. Wasting no time at all, you pry yourself away from his thigh, briefly looking down at your handywork where you noticed that spot on his jeans. What was also plain as day was the fact that he was already painfully hard. Your eyes widen as you sucked your bottom lip into your teeth, admiring the outline of his cock.

You feel the blood rush to your chest and face, completely hot with need for his mouth on you. Remembering the task at hand, you swiftly stood up at the foot of the bed and took off your drenched panties, throwing them somewhere behind you, having no care in the world if you lose them later. Along with it, you shimmy your nightie off your shoulders as it pools to a heap at your feet. Austin sits up on his elbows, his eyes roams your body in an obscene way, admiring your beautiful naked form in front of him. His cock twitches in his pants.

Seeing him so hungry for you gave you a momentary flash of courage during a moment where you would otherwise be shy as a wallflower. “Like what you see?” You said dreamily, making sure to skim you hands down your shoulders and cup your perky breasts. His stifled moan was the answer to your question.

Austin made quick work of the t-shirt he was wearing, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor without a care. Your mouth went slack as you admired his gorgeously toned body. This man was to be the death of you.

Noticing your obvious staring, he smirked and raised a cocky eyebrow, giving you a taste of your own medicine. “Like what you see, darlin’?”. God, did you ever. He may have won that little innocent moment of power play, but the ball was now in your court to make a bolder move.

Like the sex kitten you know you are, you crawl your way onto the bed, giving him a show as you sway your hips like an enchantress. His hands roamed the peaks and valleys of your divine figure, shivering beneath his fingers. As you climb up the bed your let your breasts get tantalizingly close to his face, just to keep teasing him further. He absolutely was not about to let the opportunity go by though. So before you could get out of his reach he languidly let his tongue capture one of your nipples, rolling it into his mouth. He spent ample time lavishing your breast before moving to the other one.

“Baby...” you moaned. The sensation was delicious, sending a new wave of wetness pooling between your legs. He grazed his teeth against your nipple ever so gently before letting it pop out of his mouth. The breath hitched in your throat. He knew your breasts were extremely sensitive to his touch, but he loved teasing you in every conceivable way, making you squirm. “Austin!” You shuddered.

“Sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t resist.” His hands found their way to the backs of your thighs, giving them a firm squeeze. “Now get moving. I wanna taste you.” And with a gentle tap on your ass for encouragement, you were off. You didn’t need to be told twice.

You made quick work of moving your self up to the top of the bed. Once there, you swing your legs over and around Austin’s shoulders, getting yourself settled into this new position.

His hands take hold of your hips, resuming their previous position and digging into your flesh once more. He slides down a little so his face is in direct alignment with your dripping core. You shake in suspense, anticipating his needy tongue on your folds at any moment.

He licks his lips, fully taking in the glorious sight above him. “That’s it, let me see that perfect pussy.” His voice oozing with sex. He’s so eager to have you smother him completely and drown in your juices. His hot breath underneath your wetness makes you quiver. As he places chaste kisses on your inner thighs, you grasp onto the wall Infront of you in preparation for the onslaught you’re about to receive.

Austin would and probably could swallow you whole right now. But he was holding back every urge in his body to resist making you come too fast. So he decided that he would take his time with you.

You practically saw stars when you felt his tongue lick one long flat swipe across you and flick up to your clit. He was savoring your taste. Teasing you. Enraptured in how your luscious folds felt against his mouth. Your perfect swollen bud between his lips. He adored you completely. Your hearts were beating at rapid fire in your chests. The passion was palpable and hung thick in the air.

With no time to waste, Austin began a steady pace of broad, sensual strokes against your pussy, making sure to flick up the tip of his tongue on your clit before diving back down into your folds. Over and over and over again his firm tongue glided effortlessly through your slick. He greedily slurped up every single drop you had to give him. You were already like putty in his hands.

“Ooh, Aus...your tongue feels so good.” You arched your back and started slowly riding his face. He moaned against you, encouraging you to use him however you want to get yourself off, the vibration sending shockwaves of extra pleasure straight to your aching clit. The stubble on his face was scratching against your thighs as he ate you out, making you hiss at the burning sensation. But it was overwhelmingly delicious.

He couldn’t control his carnal urges anymore. In no time he worked his mouth faster against your sopping cunt, diving his tongue deep into your folds, licking and sucking every inch of you as you rode him. A few times he let a wandering hand travel to his erection as he palmed himself through his pants to relieve the pressure building inside of him. And occasionally, he dipped the entire length of his tongue right inside of you, exploring every single nook and cranny to drive you insane. Your walls instinctively clenched around him, sucking him as far as he could go. “Fuuuck yes baby...” You groaned.

It was absolutely primal, you were being sent to the precipice with every swipe of his tongue. The obscene sloshing noises of your soaked pussy and his wet tongue was absolutely pornographic. It was music to both of your ears. You were in complete awe of the way he utterly worshiped your body. Austin always made sure to do right by you and treat you like a goddess. And it showed in the way his mouth engulfed your pussy in a fervor.

You couldn’t help yourself, you had to look down and see what this man was doing to make you feel so good. You moaned loudly as your eyes were locked with his in a soul snatching stare that set you ablaze. This turned you on like no other. As you ground yourself harder against his velvet lips you swear that you saw him wink at you.

He clung onto your hips, almost afraid that you would float away on this intense high. You gushed around his mouth and he hummed against you. After giving some generous attention to your folds, he had his sights set on your clit. You were a goner. He set a dizzying pace as he maneuvered against your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending you into a frenzy of needy moans.

Austin new exactly how to pleasure you, and he took pride in doing so. He mixed his go-to techniques all at once to bring you to your peak. He first brought your clit into his mouth and shook his head back and forth vigorously, coating his face with your slick in the process. Then he went to flicking with just the tip of his tongue at warp speed. The last ingredient to this orgasmic recipe was deliberately switching things up by slowly lapping at your bud. This man has the most talented mouth on the planet. You felt like your heart would explode out of your chest if he kept this up.

The coil in your stomach was impossibly tight, letting you know that your crashing orgasm was on it’s way. He just kept going to town on you ferociously, unrelenting. Ravishing you like you were his last meal. He brought your clit into his mouth and masterfully sucked away, his tongue lapping and collecting all of your juices in his mouth, groaning against your pussy...it was all swirling into a cacophony of otherworldly, indescribable sensations.

“Fuuuuck, Austin...” You moaned, head thrown back in ecstasy.

One of your hands trailed it’s way down to his mop of dirty blonde locks between your legs. His curls were plastered to his face with sweat from exertion, and you gripped him for dear life as he devoured your sweet cunt. He loved this, because he gave your ass a smack in approval. You were so love drunk on him, and he on you. You didn’t know exactly how much time you had before you collapse on top of him, but you knew it wasn’t very much longer. Your walls began to flutter around his tongue.

“I’m gonna fucking come all over your face.” You squealed, feeling the wave of your climax attempting to pour out of you and suffocate him.

The high pitched moans that were cascading out of your mouth like a waterfall was his signal that you were close. He could play nice and let your juices drip down his chin as you rode out your orgasm. However, even though that idea sounded amazing, he had other plans for you this evening. And Austin certainly was not about to let you come so quickly. A part of him felt bad for doing this to you right now, but only a little.

As you were in the throws of passion, chasing your high and your impending climax, Austin swiftly pulled his lips away from you. Your clit coming out of his mouth with a wet plop. You felt the wind knock out of you, like you were hit by a freight train at 100 miles an hour. Being on the edge of reality and crashlanding back down to your Manhattan loft was jarring to say the least. Trying to gain hold of your senses, you looked down at him. The look on your face flashed with multiple feelings - but mostly annoyance, horniness, and utter confusion. You literally were seconds away from coming.

Austin peppered kisses along your inner thighs and looked up at you through his long lashes. His breath was heavy and labored, eyes half-lidded and pupils completely blown out with with a raging fire behind them. Swallowing any remnants of your juices left in his mouth, he threw you a playful smile from below.

“Sorry doll, but you’re not coming just yet.”

Seriously?! This man had you on the very brink of a powerful orgasm, and he took it away from you just as quickly as it came. Your mind was a jumbled up mess. How can he just..do that without warning?! You definitely heard what he said, but it went in one ear and out the other. All you were really focusing on is your throbbing clit begging for release, and the fact that you couldn’t have it.

“Austin, please! That’s not fair!” You whined.

“Well, life isn’t always fair baby. We’re playing by my rules tonight. Now hop off me.”

Exasperated, you refused to move. In fact, you really couldn’t move even if you tried. Your legs were like jelly beneath you. Your thighs clamped around his head for so long that the thought of moving now sent a harsh wave of pins and needles prickling down your lower extremities. A part of you wished that this was some kind of sick joke and that he would finish what he started. But alas, that wasn’t about to happen. He was for real.

Austin noticed your reluctance to do much of anything, and doubled down on his command. Something wicked inside of him was brewing, and you were now on the receiving end of his games.

“Hey,” He says firmly, smacking your ass “Quit being a brat and get down here.”

As much as you strongly wanted to protest, you let out a loud sigh and followed his orders. Gathering up whatever strength you had left, your shaky legs gave way under you as you swung them off of Austin’s face. A string of his saliva trailed along with you as you rolled onto your back. As you collapsed onto the bed, you tried to gain some kind of composure. It seemed a little cruel that he would pull the rug from underneath you.

But as quickly as your head hit the pillow he was on you in a heartbeat.

Austin straddled either side of you as he pressed his body against yours. You instinctively went to wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him close. But he was faster than you, forcing your legs apart at your sides, capturing the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs with the palms of his hands.

You were no match for how strong he was, no matter how you tried to buck yourself free from the confines of his vice grip, it seems like a fruitless effort. He hovered over you, his breath hot on your neck.

“Uh uh, not so fast. I have...other plans for you.” He growled. You knew that he was going to have his way with you tonight according to how he saw fit. As badly as you wanted him and your own release, you came to the realization that fighting back would be useless.

Relinquishing any power you had left in that moment, your thighs gave into the weight of his hands. He opened you up as far as you could go, exposing the heat of your core to the cold air. Your drenched pussy was on full display for him in an intensely erotic fashion.

“That’s my good girl. Now, you may not like my rules. But be forewarned. Disobey them and I won’t give you what you want. Follow my rules, and you’ll be rewarded. Understood?” Your eyes widened at this display of dominance. It wasn’t all too often that you and Austin played this dom/sub dynamic. But you couldn’t deny how hard and fast he could make you come by simply taking what's his. As frustrating as it was that he was keeping you on the edge, it was also exhilarating.

Finally understanding his game and playing along, you nodded in accordance to the guidelines he set. This pleased him, but he knew that you probably would break his rules and he’d have to find a way to punish you. But for now, he knew he had you under his spell.

“Good.” He slowly released his grip on your inner thighs and got up off the bed. Standing in front of you, he places his hands on the fly of his jeans. He knew you wanted to see his massive cock spring free, but he purposefully pulled down the zipper at a snails pace. Your chest rose and fell sharply, the anticipation building.

After what felt like an eternity, Austin allowed himself to push his pants and boxer briefs down his legs. He toed both garments off to the side and stood there intently watching your reaction.

A soft moan fell from your lips as you took in the sight of his thick cock standing to attention. He was definitely the biggest you’ve ever had, compared to your previous lovers. And you were craving for him to stretch you and fill you completely. The fact that you knew you couldn’t have him right here and now was agonizing. And he knew this, which he used to his advantage.

Looking down upon you with intense lust in his eyes like a predator watching their prey, he took his aching cock in his hand, smearing the bead of precum on his tip and spreading it over himself. He lazily pumped himself a few times, his eyes trailing up and down your body and eventually settling on your needy cunt. The sight of his saliva and your wetness smeared across your pussy and thighs, flushed red like the most beautiful rose, created a newfound thirst for you that needed to be quenched.

He licked his lips and pumped himself faster, flexing his toned biceps as he stroked himself. He was putting on a show for you, exactly like how you were moments ago for him. This was torture. “Fuck...” A staggered moan falling from his lips.

Watching him just stand there like the sexy man he was, touching himself and ogling at your pussy, was too much for your feeble willpower to handle. To relieve the pressure, you let one of your hands slide down your stomach, about to touch your clit. But he was quick to stop you.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself, you hear me? That’s an order.” He snapped. That alone got you so wet. Him being aggressive like this turns you on so much. Although you so badly wanted to touch your needy clit, you figure that the sooner you followed his rules the sooner you could come. So you once again, you obeyed. Your hands left your stomach and idly fell on the bed. You were a good girl and you were gonna show him.

Satisfied with you actually listening to his order, he took his hand away from his throbbing cock and crawled back onto the bed. Instead of moving directly on top of you, he settled down next to you, propping himself up on his forearm. Your legs were still spread wide for him, and he ensured you stayed in this position by moving his leg over one of yours to hold you there with his weight.

He took his free hand and palmed your face, gripping just hard enough to accentuate his authority.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

You nodded.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded a little harder. He chuckled under his breath.

“You want me to touch you, don’t ya?”. That was obviously rhetorical.

You nodded even harder.

“I know darlin’, I know what you want...I always know what you want...”

And sure enough, he knows exactly what you want. He collides his lips with yours. It’s all teeth and tongue. Its raw, passionate, and needy. Desperate. You both moan into the kisses, starving for each other. The hand on your cheek travels down your throat, giving you a tentative squeeze, reminding you who was in control. Austin turns his attention to your breasts. He cupped them, the fullness of your tits sitting perfectly in his large hand. He let his thumb skim over your nipples, ghosting them with light circles making them instantly hard under his touch. Sighing in delight, you tangled your hand in his golden hair, bringing him closer to your crashing mouths.

You scream internally when he finally moves his hand, albeit agonizingly slow, down your stomach. It was close but not close enough to where you want him. He takes his time in getting there inch by scorching inch to your core. Austin enjoys toying with you a little too much for your own liking, but he knew it riled you up in the best way.

His long middle finger skipped past your clit and went down to collect the wetness from your weeping hole before sliding it up your slit. This elicited a deep moan from the pit of your stomach. He spread your juices all over your folds, tenderly, knowing this was driving you wild.

“Austin...” You whined into his kisses.

Finally, he caved in and allowed himself to give you a taste of what you wanted. With your slick dragging along his fingers, he places circles on your clit. In a double whammy move, he also took your bottom lip in his mouth and bit down at the same time. Both of these sensations caused a strangled moan to erupt from within you.

Releasing your lip from his teeth, his tongue licked the shell of your ear. His breath sending shivers down your spine. “So fucking wet for me.” He mused.

He trailed hot kisses down your neck, finding the area he knows is your weak spot and ravishing it with his mouth. Your legs splayed even further out from your sides, giving him more access to your pussy in a display of submission. He was playing you like a finely tuned instrument, the music being the beautiful sounds falling from your lips and your dripping core.

After a few teasing circles on your clit, he went back down to play with your pussy lips with more fingers. He probed your entrance with his middle finger, both of you hissing at this newfound sensation.

“Goddamn baby, still so tight for me after all this time.”

He pushed his finger as far as it could go, brushing against your g-spot. Another strangled moan cascaded out of your mouth and into his ear, savoring every second. “Oh yes...”

He slowly began to leisurely pump his finger in and out of you, taking your pussy for a test ride before adding a second finger inside you. The feeling of your walls contracting and stretching around him was intoxicating. He wanted so badly to replace his fingers with his cock, but he had to show restraint. Not now...later.

“Aus!” Your head was thrown back against the pillow. He watched as his fingers slide in and out of you effortlessly, your tight walls hugging around him. He was power hungry off of watching you fall apart in his arms.

Austin wasn’t about to ease up on you. He went faster, fingering you like his life depended on it. Slamming into you, applying just the right amount of pressure to your g-spot. Your pussy was making loud squelching noises in no time.

“You like that baby, hmm? Being fucked mercilessly by my fingers?” He groaned in your ear.

“Yes!...just like that...” You screamed.

This man would be your undoing. Here you were, completely at his mercy, letting him use your body in however way he saw fit. As much as he was in the drivers seat right now, you wanted to show him how good you could be. You were playing a dangerous game, but your mind was already made up on the card you were going to deal right now. You were lost in the pleasure, and you needed more of him.

You couldn’t stop your hand from gliding over his toned chest and abs, earning a lustful sigh from Austin. Bolder yet, you instinctively went lower and lower until your fingertips brushed against the tip of his cock. His jaw flexed, tightly shutting his eyes, biting his tongue and swallowing back a moan. While he was having his way with your body he mostly neglected himself in favor of getting you off first. Your hand making contact with his hard cock drove him wild.

As you dipped your toes in the water to see if this was acceptable to continue, he looked down at you. No longer could you see the icy blue eyes you so lovingly adored. They were completely black. If looks could kill, you’d be dead in this very moment.

You knew what you were doing was okay when he rolled his hip in your hand, asking for you to go on, your fingers sliding along his shaft. He was pleading with his stare for you to touch him. His pulse quickened, waiting with baited breath for you to give him more.

You knew better than to go any further with a dry hand, you weren’t a sadist.

He huffed when you briefly pulled your hand away from his length, but his eyes widened when you went to spit generously into your palm. You felt him throb strongly against your leg. He knew he would be a done for as soon as your delicate hand milked his thick cock, but he also reminded himself that he was still in control -- his fingers were still buried to the hilt in your pussy after all.

The guttural, loud groan that erupted from within him when your slippery hand wrapped around his pulsing shaft made your walls clench stronger around his fingers. You could have come just from hearing your man fall to pieces in your hand, literally. The pillars of power were now balanced.

You started jerking him off, rotating your wrist expertly up and down his shaft and paying particular attention to circle the tip as you squeeze just the right amount of pressure.

Austin threw his head back and closed his eyes, blissed out on his cock finally being lavished with attention. “Goddamn it Y/N...my girl, my best girl.” He thrust his hips into your grip to get even more friction.

All bets were off now. You may have gained the upper hand with how good you were stroking his cock, but you ignited something within him. He was about to turn animalistic on a dime.

Somehow beyond your comprehension, he started brutally fucking you on his fingers even harder than before. His fingers were long, and your cervix was already feeling the beating it was getting by how sinfully hard he was thrusting into you. A thunderous growl erupted from his chest.

A strangled cry got caught in your throat. “Oh my god, Aus! Fuck!” You could have cried at how intense this feeling was. Your were riding off the back of your previously denied orgasm, and now you felt the familiar waves of another one lurking around the corner. He hasn’t even properly fucked you yet and he has you eating out of the palm of his hand. Both of you were caught up in the feeling of each other.

Now you were a woman on a mission. Not only were you going to get your climax, but you were going to have him chase his. The speed at which you were working his cock increased, making sure to give extra attention to his red tip.

He tried his damndest to gain control of the situation, but you were jerking him off in a way he couldn’t help but give in to. For a split second his brain almost allowed himself to surrender, forgetting this game he started and take you right now, or come in your hand and be done for. He could honestly take either route right now.

But he couldn’t faulter that easily. The gears in his brain started turning. As much as he wanted to focus on his pleasure, he flipped the situation back around to his favor. He started something he had to follow through with.

“You’re my filthy little slut aren’t you?” He gritted through his teeth. You almost screamed in ecstasy when his thumb finally starting rubbing furious circles on your aching clit. “I know you wanna come baby...I know you’re close...so close”. Goddamn him, you both knew he was right.

With his fingers sloshing around in your cunt, relentlessly pressing into your g-spot making your toes curl, and his thumb working your clit, it was only a matter of seconds before you collapsed around him with an earth-shattering orgasm.

“P-Please...please” You pleaded, begging him with a string of loud squeals. Surely he wouldn’t let you go without another release. This had to be it this time. You gave his cock a harder squeeze, spurring him on, which earned you another deep, lustful groan he couldn’t suppress.

He bit his lip as he got off on watching his masterful hand bringing you to the edge all over again. The ungodly noises emanating from your mouth and your pussy was wicked. The ball was completely in his court, and unfortunately for you it was game over.

Austin’s fingers pumped into you once, twice, three times before he finally slid them out from you, your slick pouring out from your hole and getting the sheets underneath you drenched.

It seems like the universe was laughing at you in this moment.

Are. You. Kidding me?

Your eyes sprang open and you peered down to your pussy where you saw Austin bring his fingers covered in your juices up to his mouth where he licked them clean. You fell back against the pillow, your chest heaving from having been denied a second orgasm. Frustrated didn’t even begin to describe how you felt right now.

He made sure you locked eyes with him as he slowly sucked on his fingers, a boyish smirk appearing on his face, well aware of the torture he was inflicting upon you. “You taste like fucking heaven.” He purred. At that point he was twisting the knife further in the wound.

“I hate you so much right now.” You sighed in agony, defeated. You released your grip on his cock and ran your hands over your face. This felt like your own personal hell.

“You love it.” he said smugly.

As much as you didn’t want to admit to yourself that you were actually enjoying this, it was far too late for that. He was keeping you on edge for so long, denying the thing you so desperately ached for. But in the heat of the throws of passion, you were enjoying yourself. Yet again, he wasn’t wrong. There was an obvious pattern forming here. Your body was shaking at how badly you wanted to come, how close you were. Is it even possible to be this turned on?! Clearly, the answer was yes. But the real question was, when would he give you what you wanted? It surely wasn’t right now.

As you lay there pondering all of these questions, he moved onto his knees and placed himself in-between your legs. You could clearly see that your handjob did the trick -- he was leaking like a faucet about ready to burst. You were sure that Austin couldn’t contain himself for much longer either. The two of you were thoroughly enjoying this cat and mouse game.

He took hold of his cock with one hand and teasingly rubbed the tip through your slick folds, punctuating your clit with a few brisk taps. The moan that fell from your lips was almost blood curdling. He was so close yet so far from being done with you.

“Look at you, so strung out for my cock.”

As you writhed on the bed, clutching the bedsheets for purchase, he trailed hot kisses from your navel all the way up to your neck. Each and every touch of his mouth on your body reignites the already blazing inferno within you. His final destination lands him at your ear, where he takes your earlobe between his lips and gives a little nibble.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you wont even remember your own goddamn name.” You shiver at his hot words. He doesn’t let up on rubbing his cock against your pussy, he’s just getting started. “But first things first...”

Before you had time to react, he had his other hand wrapped around your throat. It wasn’t hard enough to choke you, but it was firm.

“What’s my name?” He growled.

Instinctively his name falls from your lips. “Aus-” but before you can finish, he applies more pressure to your neck, halting the air from entering your lungs.

“Wrong answer. Try again, darlin’.” The previous times you and Austin explored a more dominant and submissive role in the bedroom, you remembered the conversation where he specifically requested that you don’t refer to him by his name. He wanted a title. He liked exploring this illustrious form of power play with you, but obviously he would never take it to far extremes. Suddenly, the correct answer sprang back into your memory.

“Sir.”

He flashed a crooked grin. “Atta girl”. As he released your neck from his grip, he got himself situated in the right position. He hovered over you, leaning his weight onto his forearm propped up by your head. Your heart beat loudly in your ears, you knew what was coming and your walls immediately clenched.

Austin took hold of his cock and aligned himself perfectly with your weeping entrance. His brow furrowed, his jaw slack as he pushed the tip inside of you. The pair of you moaning loudly at the intense feeling of pleasure cascading over your bodies. And then slowly but surely, he filled you up completely to the brim. Your tight pussy eagerly swallowed him whole, taking every single delicious inch of his massive cock.

There was a look in his eyes of pure ecstasy, of your dripping wet walls enveloping him to the hilt. The wild desire was evident on his face, but also he couldn’t hold back the unbridled love he had for you. He cherished the way your pussy enveloped him every single time he took you.

He didn’t give you too much time to adjust to his size. You couldn’t hold back the loud moan you roared from the depths of your soul when Austin started slamming his cock into. Tonight was not a night for soft niceties. This was about burning, aching, primal fucking. His breath was hot on your face, never once looking away from how your beautiful features contorted with intense pleasure.

“Oh F-Fuuuck!” You sobbed, head thrown back. Your nails dug into his biceps, trying to ground yourself in any possible way. He was fucking you so raw but so good. The feeling of your walls accommodating his girth was sinful for both of you.

“That’s it baby, take my cock.” He groaned. Austin was pounding into you, unrelenting. He kept a rhythmic and steady pace, your juices coating him like a warm blanket and letting him back in every time he thrust into you.

Getting lost in the overwhelming feeling of you, Austin captured your lips in a zealous kiss. His tongue working against yours, exploring the crevices of your mouth. He cupped your face. and your hand tangled through his hair. He pined for your release, expertly working your pussy in a way that only he can do.

Your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, trapping him even closer to you, pushing him deeper into the expanse of your heat. Austin suddenly pulled away from your flushed lips and sat back on his heels, grabbing hold of your hips as he elevated your ass off of the bed to meet his cock, snapping into you at a furious speed.

This new angle had you spiraling, his cock was ramming into that sweet spot deep inside your pussy in a brand new way that had you gushing around him, gasping for air. Your tight walls giving him an encouraging squeeze.

“Oh my god! Yes! Just like that.” you scream. The pleasure was forming with tenacity in your stomach. If you felt like you were floating only moments ago, then you were sure that your soul was leaving your body at this very moment. As he was riding you hard into the mattress you admired how drop-dead sexy he was. You studied this adonis of a man fucking the life out of you -- sweat was dripping down his furrowed brow, blonde tendrils fell down the slope of his forehead, his plush lip sucked into his teeth. You felt tipsy on his visceral sexuality as his throbbing length macerated the juices in your pussy. It was absolutely dirty.

You were sure that all of New York City could hear you two caught up in the feeling of each other's bodies. But you didn’t give a damn.

Austin knew all too well that he would be on the brink to spilling into you if he didn’t control himself. So he flipped the switch yet again. He quickly pulled out of you, suddenly leaving you missing the feel of him.

“Get on your knees. Face down, ass up. Now.” He said hard and fast, he needed to be back inside you as quickly as possible. Austin guided you along as his hands smoothly flipped you over onto your stomach. Your face was buried in the pillow, your arms tucked in by your side and your ass high in the air on full display for him, just like he wanted. You were a good listener when you wanted to be.

He couldn’t help but smack your voluptuous ass before he took hold of his cock again, running the tip over your slit, before bottoming out in your pussy in one fluid motion. You both moaned at the sudden intrusion and his thick cock back where it belonged. You were truly dickmatized.

He tightly clutched your hips as he brutally fucked you. Somehow his dick reached the depths of your pussy that you never even knew needed his upmost attention. Eagerly, you matched his his thrusts, slamming your hips back against him. This earned you a deep groan from him.

“Goddamn, such a good girl riding my rock...”

Your strangled moans were trapped between the pillow, your knuckles went white from keeping a vice grip onto the bed sheets. If he kept this up you knew you were on your way to your third impending orgasm. You just simply couldn’t get enough of him. He filled you wholly in the most naughty way, knowing exactly how to hit your g-spot every single time. It got all too much for you to bear, and tears sprang to your eyes threatening to spill over. Your senses were on fire, overstimulated by everything this man had to give you.

Somehow reading your mind, Austin balled your hair in his fist, making a makeshift ponytail, and pulled, jerking your head back towards him. You gasped for air as you finally could breathe properly without the pillow suffocating you.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” he groaned.

“You. F-Fuck, it belongs to you. My pussy is yours, Sir.”

“That’s right baby. It’s mine. All mine...”

Thrust.

“All mine.”

Thrust.

“Mine.” He snarled like a ferocious animal marking their territory. Your pussy was like the most addictive drug. He shuddered at how greedily your walls were milking his cock. He could have you like this for the rest of eternity.

He let his tongue lick a hot stripe up the side of your neck before releasing your hair from his grip, your head falling forward like a ragdoll completely at his whim. As you turned your head to allow yourself to watch Austin railing your pussy, you bounced yourself back against his cock.

The waves of pleasure were starting to roll stronger with each stroke. You hoped that you had acted like his good girl - no, his best girl, to get rewarded. One solitary tear fell down your cheek, his cock was expertly sending you to the path of no return.

“Please...I-I can’t...I’m so close”. You pleaded with strangled moans. In all honesty, he was dangerously close too. He sputtered inside of you, his fingers digging even harder into your flesh.

“I know, baby”. He mused. As much as he loves tormenting you, keeping you at the precipice, he desperately yearns for both of your releases. He needs to feel you explode on his cock, your wetness spilling out onto him. And he needed to paint your walls with his come.

His thrusts became sloppy, his hips snapping with a violent force, grazing your cervix in a deliciously painful way. Austin would at long last give you what you craved. In a devastating finishing move, he took two of his fingers into his mouth, coating them generously with his spit, and strummed your clit with determined ferocity.

“You wanna come, baby?”

You screamed at the sudden contact to your throbbing clit. “Y-yes!! Please, sir, please let me come...”. You were hell-bent on coming if it was the last thing you’d do. As he was playing with your clit you bounced yourself harder on his cock, trying to coax both of your climaxes.

“Do it. Now. Come all over my cock.” He howled through his clenched jaw.

Finally, you saw the finish line that was so far out of your reach the entire night. You let out a string of strangled crying moans, forcefully coming all over him. Your walls fluttered around him, engulfing his cock with your wetness. You came so hard you swear that you practically squirted. Your vison went white and you nearly passed out from the magnanimous orgasm he gave you. And he was in heaven. Watching you come undone was his kryptonite.

“God, Y/N! I’m gonna fucking come...” He roared loudly, head thrown back in bliss.

Mustering the last bit of strength you have in you, you coo to him seductively.

“Fill me up, Austin. Come inside me.”

And with that, he chases his orgasm right after you, snapping his hips one final time and coming so hard he sees stars. He groans an enchanting mix of profanities and your name until he collapses on top of you, unable to hold himself up anymore. He was dead weight, but the feeling of his body brought you a sense of comfort.

You both lay there for a while, a pile of sweaty limbs entangled on the bed, until he musters up some strength to lift himself off of you. Austin takes hold of his cock and slowly pulls out, watching his come seep out of you. He gathers what he can and pushes it back in, wanting every part of him to stay trapped inside your pussy for as long as possible. You moan at the intrusion from his fingers.

This was surely the most intense sexcapade you two have had to date. How the hell can sex with Austin keep being so fucking mindblowing?! This was one for the books. You sighed at the loss from his cock, your empty pussy still craving him inside of you. But you knew that you’d be feeling helplessly sore for days to come.

Austin rolls over to his back, running his hands through his hair and trying to catch his breath. Making love to you was the only exercise he ever needed. A massive, stupidly beautiful grin was plastered on his face. The alpha male energy that took over him has now subsided, and the gentle Austin was back.

As you turn over on your side to be drawn back into his loving arms, you rest your head on his chest. He brought your lips to meet his in a tender kiss, marking the end of the best sex you’ve both ever had.

“I didn’t hurt you at all did I? I probably over did it at times. Sorry, baby. You just get me so worked up.” He spoke softly.

“No not at all Aus. Honestly, being manhandled by you is such a turn on.” You nuzzled into him. He chuckled contentedly, placing another chaste kiss on your lips.

“Will keep that in mind for next time.”

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #ausitn butler fanfic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #austin butler smut #smut #fanfic #fanfiction #austin butler x you #austin butler x fem!reader #austinbutleredit #austin butler x y/n #austin butler elvis #austin babe-ler #what other tags go here? idk

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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 1 month

Text

A Southern Myth

Summary: Leon had been sent to a rural place in Texas where sightings of a BOW were reported. But upon entering the forgotten town, he began to get entangled in a horrific twist of events involving a religious cult. Things escalate and now he must survive with the help of a girl who doesn’t believe in anything.

Warning: horror. religion. mentions of blood and gore like description. cult activities. violence. swearing. reader is fem. there is no romance/smut.

A/N: omg I’ve never written something like this before🙈 CAPCOM should hire me for script writing.

“You believe you're on the righteous path, you believe you're a force for good, but you're not.” - John Seed, Far Cry 5

“Come forth, my children. Let your souls become pure under His guidance.”

“Let us rejoice in purity as we bathe in this sacrifice. Let us become one for Him, for He has been waiting.”

The sound of the dirt rolling under the car’s wheel made the road feel bumpy for Leon. The heat was intense the further he went into the rural side of what was once a town named Giligand in Texas. Once a lively town that had become a ghost town.

Until a group of religious settlers took over the desert land and claimed it their new home. They built their own society, far away from modern civilization. The orange and dried plants surrounding the new town as the wind blew hard. The sun intensified and caused Leon’s sweat to trickle down his body.

Right in the middle of nowhere is where he got sent- yet again. The D.S.O has assigned Leon a more haunting mission. The government division found in Texas’ own legislation had found weird signs of an unknown entity roaming around the dried up land. He found himself standing in front of an agent in Austin telling him about this entity.

“Our homeland security experts have raised a few concerns regarding a secluded town in Western Texas. They believe that this could be related to the virus incident that presided in other countries,” The senior agent stated as he gave Leon a stack of papers containing pictures and files of the sightings.

The abnormality was big and round. But its eyes were the only visible thing in the dark of night. Pure white eyes protruding from the creature’s face, sending a wave of uneasiness to Leon. The monster seemed tall, definitely more than 9 feet tall. Leon couldn’t tell exactly what it was but he guessed there were some sort of horns coming out the creature’s skull.

Leon had finally reached the town, being greeted by a yellowing sign. The sign written in Times New Roman “Welcome to Cunstacin” on the bottom “previously Giligand” and then near the border edge “Pop. 189”

Such a small town for a big state. Leon didn’t think much of it. He wasn’t aware of how much his life would change the minute he passed the sign without seeing those pure white eyes watching him from behind his truck.

The town itself was small but seemed very busy. The roads were flat with gravel. The houses were old and barren but still usable. He wondered how people were able to make a living of such an abandoned place. As he neared a motel, he was met with the leader of the town. A tall man of tan skin, hair long enough to reach his shoulders as his beard grew to his neck.

He approached Leon’s truck and greeted him with a polite smile, “Ah, you must be the new guy they sent here.” Leon nodded as he turned off the engine and jumped out of his car.

The man walked up to Leon and patted his shoulder, “Hope the road wasn’t too tedious. The distance between here and the city is pretty stretchy.” The man chuckled and looked behind him where two young women stood. “Go fetch his luggage and take it to his room. We don’t want to make our esteemed guest work too much now, don’t we?”

The two ladies nodded and walked over to the trunk of Leon’s truck. They both carried the brown and thick luggages to the motel, their silhouettes getting lost in between the halls.

The man then gently forced Leon to walk with him, “I’m sure you’re tired and you might want to get some rest, but there’s an afternoon mass the town wishes for you to attend. The people want to meet the new guy in town,” the man laughed again and gave Leon’s chest a lazy slap.

“I appreciate the offer but I’m here for work- strictly for work,” Leon replied as he looked at the man and then around the area.

The man chuckled and took his hand away from Leon’s shoulder, “No worries- I get it. You’re a busy guy and your work ethic is commendable,” the man leaned towards Leon’s ear to whisper, “But if you find yourself in need of His words, do come to the church behind the Great Willowed Forest.” The man leaned back and gave him another toothy smile, almost unsettling. “Make yourself at home.” That was the last thing the man said before he began to walk away.

Leon exhaled through his nose. He already got the creeps from the background check he ran on the town but meeting the people in person made the whole experience much more precarious.

He began to walk along the town, trying to find any other civilians. He saw an older woman with two children outside a two story building.

“Excuse me,” Leon said as he jogged to the three individuals. One of the children, a little boy with a bowl haircut pointed to Leon and exclaimed, “Look, meemaw- ‘tis the new guy!” The older woman slapped the little boy’s head, “Pointing at strangers is rude.”

Leon cleared his throat, “It’s alright,” he looked down at the kid before looking back at the older woman, “I’ve heard there were some strange… sightings around this town-“

“Ah, yes-“ the woman cut him off, “You’re talking Tervin.” Leon immediately furrowed his brows. They had named the potential B.O.W?

“Tervin?” Leon asked and the woman nodded, “Yes. He was sent by God,” she looked up at the sky and then back at him.

“He was kind enough to send us a messenger. My boy, the end is coming. We must cleanse our souls of our sins in order to enter our Eden.”

Leon immediately felt a weird sense of unease in his lower stomach, the bottom pit sinking down after the woman spoke.

The woman took a step forward and cupped Leon’s face, “He is our savior. He will bring us to an eternal peace. Time is ticking, we must proceed with His plan.”

Leon took a step back, taking deep breaths. What was this feeling? His heart was hammering against his rib cage and he could feel his head become light. Maybe it was heatstroke or maybe it was fear.

The woman stared at Leon, seemingly in a trance. He swore he saw her eye color vanish for a moment, not right before she “came back” and smiled at him. She then took hold of the two children’s hands and walked away. He could only stay there watching as they got further away.

He exhaled shakily as he ran a hand through his hair, this would be harder than he thought.

For the next following days, he’s been trying to talk to these people but everyone said remotely the same things.

“Monster? He’s no monster. He’s our salvation.”

“God sent him, it is His gift to us.”

“We must act quickly, the end is nigh”

Leon was currently sitting on the edge of the bed in the room he was currently staying. His elbows rested on his knees as his gaze fell on the picture of the creature he had in his hand. Pure black, except for the eyes. Something felt sinister- almost too evil. But he couldn’t pinpoint what. Everyone looked normal-ish.

He left the motel and began his 15th round of research. He was so sure he’d get kicked out if he kept asking the people questions. His mind traveled back to what the leader said, something about attending mass.

He didn’t want to but he knew that he had to try. Maybe there was something that could be useful in the church.

So that’s where he was headed. To the Great Willowed Forest. A forest full of tall trees and tall grass. The sun was setting and the church came into his line of vision. A tall Victorian structure that was adorned in white and gold. A bell sitting on top of the highest tower peak of the religious establishment. He slowly walked up the freaking and old steps of the church. Muffled talking from just the other of the door. With a light inhale, he pushed the door open with gentleness and stepped into the church.

The inside was much more beautiful. The benches were neatly fixed in rows as the windows were stained glass depicting stories of their God. The church was packed and the leader stood on the podium, preaching about their path to salvation.

“We must obey the Lord’s rule. For we are His children as well as His servants. We must makeup for the loss of His journey.”

Leon found himself an empty seat at the very back. No one seemed to have noticed him enter, they were all focusing on the town’s leader words. Almost as if they were bewitched.

“Tonight, we must bring our sacrifice and cleanse our souls. We must savor the taste of blood as He has given us a vessel from his sacrifices. We must show him our devotion.”

The mass lasted for an hour and a half, and he didn’t find anything remotely useful. He sighed in defeat as he felt like he wasted his time, yet again. There were no signs of any B.O.W and these people were most certainly convinced that the monster was their key to heaven.

It was nighttime when Leon had left the church, walking aimlessly through the forest. His mind preoccupied with thoughts about potentially lying to the D.S.O and telling them it was just some southern myth.

Until he hears clinking sounds coming from behind a bush. His agent instincts activated and he quietly walked towards the bush to see what was behind it.

To his surprise, he’d found another person. A girl working on a garden. She had been couched down on the floor as her hands worked through the soil.

As he walked towards you, his boots crunched against the twigs lost in the grass. Your attention had been drawn to the sound and you quickly spotted the new man in town.

You furrowed your brows as he approached you, “You’re the new guy everyone’s talking about.”

Leon nodded curtly, “The one and only,” you hummed in response and resumed your duties.

“Can I ask-“

“No.”

He was caught off guard by your immediate answer. You didn’t even look back at him. He could only stare at the back of your head as your hands worked through the soil.

“You didn’t even listen to what I had to say,” he approached you and crouched next to you, glancing at the plants you’ve been planting.

“I don’t need to. You’re asking questions about this stupid and fake thing everyone claims to be salvation or some other bullshit,” you grumbled.

“Not necessarily-“ he sighed and looked at your side profile, “I’m not here for that-“

“What do you want me to tell you? That there’s some sort of monster roaming around the forest?” You turned your head to look at him, “Because I won’t. I haven’t seen anything and I do not believe it even exists. Those lunatics are hell bent on their stupid… belief,” you scoffed as you turned your attention back to your plants.

“Bunch of bullshit if you ask me,” you muttered. He looked at you some more before looking back down at your hands covered in dirt.

“So you aren’t with those people?” Leon raised a brow as he analyzed you. You shook your head no, “Hell no. You don’t know what they do to those who don’t believe in their God… you don’t know anything.”

Leon remained silent as your words settled down in his mind. There was more than what you led on and both of you knew this.

“Then tell me,” he replied quietly. You sighed and looked at him with an annoyed expression, “Doesn’t matter. Just go back to your shit and mind your business.”

He didn’t say anything, he just watched you for a few minutes before he stood up and left.

He went back to his motel room and laid down on the bed. Staring up at ceiling as he thought about the events that took place. He still couldn’t shake off the strange feeling he felt about this town. Something felt odd but he just didn’t know what. He sighed and decided to just sleep for the night.

Leon woke up early in the morning and tried to find the leader of the town. Surprisingly, he was at the church. He was sitting down on a bench, silently praying. Leon walked up to him and sat next to him as he waited for him to finish praying.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our visitor. To what do I owe the pleasure?” The man said as he noticed Leon’s presence next to him. Leon cleared his throat and pulled out a picture of ‘Tervin’

“I need you to tell me about this. What do you know?” Leon’s brows were furrowed, he was serious. He didn’t come around to play. The man took the picture and stared at it. Something in his aura had changed upon seeing that picture.

“Where did you get this?” The man asked as he looked at Leon with an unreadable expression. Leon shrugged, “I can’t say.” The man hummed and looked back at the altar in front of them.

“Tervin is a gift from God. He was sent as a warning of impending doom,” the man replied in a flat voice. “If he isn’t satisfied, then he seeks blood. We must cleanse this town of impurities and relay a message to God that we are worthy of his Eden paradise.”

Something in that caused a shiver to run down Leon’s spine, but he didn’t show it. He remained serious and calm. Leon nodded once and stood up, feeling like no one will actually tell him anything.

“Thanks,” he muttered before he left the church. When he walked out, he nearly crashed into you.

“Watch it,” you hissed at him. He looked down at you with a raised brow, “I’m pretty sure you meant ‘excuse me’” he crossed his arms over his chest and kept blocking the doorway.

You sighed and looked at him unimpressed, “Excuse me.” Leon rolled his eyes and stepped to the side. As you began to walk past him, you noticed the picture in his hands. Your brows pinched together and you quickly pointed to it, “what’s that?”

Leon looked down at the picture and then back at you, “I’m supposed to investigate this… thing.” He watched you closely, trying to gauge your reaction as you stood there silently thinking.

“You’ll get yourself in trouble if you keep putting your nose where it doesn’t belong,” you warned before stepping inside the church. He saw you walk up to the leader. He exhaled and walked back to the town. When will someone actually help him?

It was somewhere past 11 pm, he was staring at the files he had about this town and his objective. It was impossible to think how he didn’t have any leads. It was the Leon S Kennedy! He always saw that the job got done, always.

He groaned defeatedly and began to walk around the town, he doesn’t even know how many times he’s done that.

The town was awfully quiet. There was a fog occupying most of his vision, making the place look eerie and unsettling. He heard the rustling of the trees and grasses but he paid no mind to that. Not right now, at least.

He saw you sitting on a fountain, staring at your reflection deep in thought. Why were you the only one out here. He walked over to you and spoke in a soft voice, “What are you doing out here?”

You looked over at him and then back at the water, “Could ask you the same.”

Leon sighed and scratched his head, “I just- I wanted to ask questions but seems like everyone just… disappeared.”

You hummed in response as your fingers played with the water, “They didn’t. They’re at the church praying or something.”

His ears perked up, praying at this time? He didn’t want to question it but it still lingered in his mind.

After a few moments of silence, he couldn’t help but ask, “You said you didn’t believe in God, why is that?” He asked in a quiet voice.

You looked at him before motioning for him to follow you, “It’s better if I just showed you.”

You led him through the dark forest, twigs snapping under your shoes and wind howling soft whispers as the moonlight glimmered down you two.

“This town ostracizes those who don’t believe in God. Do you know what happens to nonbelievers?” You looked behind your shoulder to glance at Leon for a brief moment.

“No, I don’t but do tell,” he followed behind you as his eyes scanned the forest for any threats.

You sighed and stopped walking once you’ve reached an abandoned cemetery, you walked up to one of the gravestones and stared down at the name, “Jeffrey Clyle. 1987-2024.”

“Sacrifice,” you whispered. Leon heard you and walked up next to you, your eyes distant and your expression solemn.

“Ever since rumors of the “messenger” started, they’ve been capturing and targeting those whose faith has been faltering…” your gaze remained down at the gravestone and Leon remained silent as he let you talk.

“They’ve been doing human sacrifices in the name of God. They believe that God would forgive them if they kill those who oppose him…” your voice trailed off for a moment before you turned your face to look at him, “It’s evil. Punishing people for not believing in something is inhumane. They’re all slaves to their own fucking religion, that God is not kind and I will never believe in it.”

“Then what are you still doing here?” Leon asked as he stared into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Because my father is the fucking leader of this whole thing. I can’t just leave,” you mumbled and looked away. “I already get judged for not believing- imagine what would happen to me if I left?”

He remained silent once again. Your father was the preacher and the leader of the town? That makes things even more interesting. Leon never pictured himself to be in this kind of situation- not since Spain, at least. It all seemed the same to him. Religion controlling people, is that all it will ever be?

Then he remembered something from mass he attended,

“Tonight, we must bring our sacrifice and cleanse our souls. We must savor the taste of blood as He has given us a vessel from his sacrifices. We must show him our devotion.”

Leon’s eyes widened as he began to finally realize what might happen. He looked down at you, “You mean to tell me… that your father participates in human sacrifices? Why?” His eyes were narrowed as his breathing became faster.

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, “Because his idiotic self thinks that sacrificing people will help him and his goons reach their heaven.”

Innocent lives were being used for this town’s religion. This didn’t sit right with Leon. He quickly ran out of the cemetery- his heartbeat speeding as his legs carried his body towards the church.

Under the embrace of the moon and the night, a gathering assembled at the edge of the churchyard, shrouded by the shadows cast by the townspeople. Their faces unrecognizable under the dark night, their chants in hushed tones as they circled around a sacrifice.

Bound by chains, a person writhed in resistance, their muffled cries stifled by a potato sack over their head. Leon stood behind a tree as you came behind him to look at the scene unfold in front of your eyes.

The leader of the town emerged, wielding a sacrificial blade gleaming under the moonlight. Each stroke of the blade sent shivers down your’s and Leon’s spine, as the victim's anguished pleas echoed through the night, a haunting presence appeared through the tethered night.

“We give this sacrifice to you, our Lord. Let us repent for our sins and wash ourselves with the blood of those who’ve been cleansed.”

The creature- otherwise known as the B.O.W- emerged from behind the forest and entered the churchyard. Its stature was 11 feet, towering over everyone. Its black glistening skin reflected the moonlight as its pearly white eyes penetrated the group of believers. Its horns swirled upwards, reaching up to the sky. The townspeople all bowed to the creature as they chanted its name, “All hail Tervin.”

Leon’s eyes widened as he saw the B.O.W while your eyes widened at the fact that this “messenger” was indeed real. Leon took out his gun and aimed it at the B.O.W. You quickly pulled his arm down and whispered in a harsh tone, “Are you stupid? That thing could be dangerous.”

Leon narrowed his eyes at you, “I’ve fought those things before, I know what I’m doing.” He shook your hands away from his arm and aimed the gun back at the beast.

The beast approached the human sacrifice and with its claws, it picked up. Almost instantly crushing the human, letting the blood fall down like rain on the townspeople.

“Thank you, Lord, for this blessing”

The B.O.W then ate the human sacrifice after the townspeople showered in their blood. A scene so horrific and disturbing, it twisted your stomach upside down. The creeping sensation of the fact that it could’ve been you in that situation only made it worse.

To feel your rib cage cave in, piercing your lungs and heart as blood trickles down your mouth. Its claws clawing into your body, letting the blood flow like water.

It only made you shiver and writhe in disgust.

Leon then began to shoot at the B.O.W with his gun, drawing the attention of the townspeople. One bullet shot the creature’s eye, causing it to stagger backwards in pain. The group of believers all turned to look at you and Leon.

Their faces unrecognizable- their faces foreign as the creases and eyes all felt like distinct people. The group slowly began to walk towards you two as the monster howled in anger.

“God, forgive those sinners. They haven’t sought your guidance. Let us illuminate their path,”

The leader spoke as they approached you and Leon. Anxiety coursed through your body as you saw the B.O.W swing its claws at the group of believers. People flying left and right. The leader turned around and observed in delight.

“Yes, God, yes! We shall sacrifice ourselves for Eden.”

The whole group then began to chant, “For Eden. For Tervin.”

The B.O.W only had one goal in mind- and it was to kill the person who injured it. As Tervin kept walking towards you and Leon, Leon took hold of your wrist and began to ran. He dragged you through the forest back to the motel he was staying in.

He looked the door to his room and turned to look at you, “What the fuck was that!?” Leon was stressing, all these emotions resurfaced and he felt overwhelmed. Why was this happening, how was this happening?

“I told you, they’re fucking evil when it comes to their God,” you replied harshly.

“Yeah I wasn’t exactly expecting your father to be the leader of a cult with that thing as its dog!,” Leon replied as his hands traveled through his face and hair.

You scoffed and crossed your arms over you chest but just as you were to speak, the ground shook. Heavy footsteps were heard and Leon rushed to the window. He peeked through the blinds and saw the group of believers walking over to the motel with Tervin in following them. They kept chanting as they kept walking.

“We need to get out of here now-“ you said as you began to hurry out the door. Leon, however, stopped you.

“I can’t just leave, I have a mission to do and it requires me to kill that thing. I cannot go home until it’s dead,” he said as he stared at you with a resolved expression.

You could only stare at him in silence for a few moments before sighing defeatedly, “Fine, do whatever you want.”

“Stay here,” he instructed as he took his gun and walked out, leaving you alone in his motel room.

In the flickering glow of the moonlight, amidst the eerie chants of the cultists, Leon stood there, gun in hand as he scanned the group. He needed to be smart. They had a B.O.W to their advantage.

As the first cultist lunged forward, knife in hand, Leon countered with swift precision, deflecting the blade with a punch to the gut. His movements were a blur of calculated strikes and evasions. As he killed and wounded the cultists, they grew more frenzied, their chants escalating into desperate cries of fury. Yet, undeterred, Leon continued fighting.

“We must bring him to God!” They chanted as they kept lunging at Leon.

Amidst the chaos, the B.O.W stepped forward, its twisted features contorted with rage as it charged at Leon. With the gun pointed at the beast, he shot bullet after bullet, causing it to slow its movements.

“God, please forgive our brother for he has sinned. We must cleanse him.”

Leon ran out of bullets and just as the B.O.W was about to strike, he saw you throw a pitchfork at it. The blades piercing the creature’s skin, stabbing it right in the chest.

The B.O.W let out a screeching scream, “No! Our messenger!” The leader spoke in anguish as he watched the creature stumble back, falling to the ground with a thud. Leon reloaded his gun and began to shoot again, this time aiming for the head.

As Leon became busy, your father glared at you and it was like something turned in him, “You bitch. I’ve had just about it with you. You will submit to your God and you will repent!”

You’ve never heard him speak to you this way, so much malice in his voice that you didn’t recognize the man that used to be your father.

He lunged at you, his hands trying to reach for your neck to strangle you. You took a nearby torch and set his clothes on fire. He stood back and tried to set the fire off of himself- to which he fails. He screams and cries in pain as he began to get engulfed in the flames of his sins.

“Forgive me, my children!”

You finally understood everything. There was no God because your father believed he was that God. The flames burned up in hues of blue and orange right before the sparks flew into the night sky.

His skin melted, his eyes became a blobby mess and he fell to the ground. His screech becoming more faint as the life in being burnt away from his body. The flames expanding over the dried wheat of the town, engulfing the town in a pit of fire.

Leon had been too busy to even notice that you killed your father. He’s been shooting the B.O.W, making sure to blow its head off once and for all.

After two rounds of reloading, he finally was able to kill that damn thing. Watching it fall to the ground, sending harsh vibrations to the floor as silence overtook the ghostly town.

Heavy panting overtook the two of you as the silence grew deafening. You turned to look at Leon as he stared at the B.O.W all lifeless. You looked around and saw the bloodbath. Everyone was dead.

Pools of blood stained the gravel he once stepped, the lifeless bodies of the townspeople growing cold. The flames being the only source of light under the dark night.

Leon turned to look at you for a brief moment before looking up at sky as he tried to take deep breaths. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He couldn’t believe what he was brought into. But he was glad it was over. For now at least.

Leon packed his things and went over to his truck, he looked at you, “Aren’t you coming?”

You looked at him and then back at the town- or what remained of the town. You nodded and walked over to his truck.

Both of you driving down the lane of the rose, exiting the town. Passing by a sign that read, “Please visit soon!”

Unaware of the presence with the white eyes watching you two leave the town.

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