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impromptu-sketches · 4 months

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BUDDY DADDIES MASTER POST

Happy Buddy Daddies 1 Year Anniversary!!!!

To celebrate 1 year Buddy Daddies, I've created this master post featuring the english sub episode list and all of the extra content in chronological order for new and re-watchers to enjoy! Plus, my commentary 🩵💁🏻‍♀️

✨ If you're about to watch Buddy Daddies for the first time, I recommend going in blind except for reading my little blurb below.

Buddy Daddies is a 12 episode original anime from P.A. WORKS that aired from January 7th to April 1st, 2023 about two assassin partners who somehow end up taking in a four-year-old girl. You can watch it in sub or dub on Crunchyroll. I personally recommend watching it in sub especially for the first watch.

CONTENT LIST

Dec. 9, 2022 | Before the series aired, there was a short preview from Kazuki's POV.

December 31st, 2022 | Also before the series began, they debuted Kazuki's instagram account - fantastic_sweeper0516 - which has real life photos of Fukuoka, Japan, the city where the anime takes place and photos of food that they (mostly Kazuki) makes in the show. I don't think many people knew about his instagram account until later into the series. Kazuki's 1st instagram post: fantastic_sweeper051 - street photo

January 2nd, 2023 | Kazuki's 2nd instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - street photo

January 5th, 2023 | Kazuki's 3rd instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - grocery shopping

January 5th, 2023 | Kazuki's 4th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - cooking

January 6th, 2023 | Kazuki's 5th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - work outfit

January 6th, 2023 | Kazuki's 6th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - cooking

January 7th, 2023 | Episode 1: Piece of Cake

January 7th, 2023 | Kazuki's 7th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - cooking

January 7th, 2023 | Kazuki's 8th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - dinner

January 11th, 2023 | Kazuki's 9th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - street photo

January 12th, 2023 | Kazuki's 10th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - apartment photo

January 14th, 2023 | Episode 2: The Kiss of Death

January 15th, 2023 | Kazuki's 11th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - cooking

January 16th, 2023 | Kazuki's 12th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - food

January 18th, 2023 | Kazuki's 13th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - food

January 19th, 2023 | Kazuki's 14th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - playground photo

January 20th, 2023 | Kazuki's 15th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - food

January 21st, 2023 | Episode 3: Spice of Life

January 22nd, 2023 | Kazuki's 16th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - food

January 22nd, 2023 | Kazuki's 17th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - banana note

January 24th, 2023 | Kazuki's 18th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - breakfast

January 28th, 2023 | Episode 4: What Will Be, Will Be

January 29th, 2023 | Kazuki's 19th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - clothing store

January 31st, 2023 | Kazuki's 20th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - sewing

February 1st, 2023 | Kazuki's 21st instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - journal

February 4th, 2023 | Episode 5: Crunch Time

February 5th, 2023 | Kazuki's 22nd instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - financial planning

February 11th, 2023 | Episode 6: Love is Blind

February 11th, 2023 | Kazuki's 23rd instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - food

February 12th, 2023 | Kazuki's 24rd instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - food

February 15th, 2023 | Kazuki's 25th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - food

February 18th, 2023 | Episode 7: After Rain Comes Fair Weather

February 18th, 2023 | Kazuki's 26th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - note

February 20th, 2023 | Kazuki's 27th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - cooking attempt

February 22nd, 2023 | Kazuki's 28th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - after dinner

February 23rd, 2023 | Kazuki's 29th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - new umbrella

February 25th, 2023 | Episode 8: Nothing Seek, Nothing Find

February 25th, 2023 | Kazuki's 30th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - Rei's birthday cake (Rei's birthday is August 10th which is when this takes place in the show)

March 4th, 2023 | Episode 8.5: Recap episode that summarizes episodes 1-8 with Kazuki and Rei's narration (mostly Kazuki's).

I personally recommend watching this because I enjoyed their voice overs, it added even more cuteness.

March 11th, 2023 | Episode 9: No Sweet Without Sweat

March 11th, 2023 | Kazuki's 31st instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - Rei cooking

March 11th, 2023 | Kazuki's 32nd instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - Rei's cooking

March 18th, 2023 | Episode 10: Lost At Sea

March 18th, 2023 | Kazuki's 33rd instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - Ferris wheel :'(

March 21, 2023 | Dangle on YouTube posts an English cover of the opening song, SHOCK! by Ayase.

I didn't know about this until JUNE!!! And then I analyzed the lyrics of both the original and the cover. Absolutely LOVE both the opening and credits songs + this english version.

March 25th, 2023 | Episode 11: Everyone Will Be Hypocrites

March 29th, 2023 | Kazuki's 34th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - breakfast

March 31st, 2023 | Kazuki's 35th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - french toast

April 1st, 2023 | Episode 12: Daughter Daddies (series finale)

The end! And then I cried for three days straight ☠️ But fear not! We've been blessed with more content all year! The lovely @Lily_20210401 on Twitter, one of the animators who worked on Buddy Daddies (so I consider these canon-ish), has posted many drawings of the characters throughout the year. We also got four drama CDs which were AMAZING!!!! And Kazuki's instagram has continued! These and more are listed below.

May 16th, 2023 | Kazuki's 36th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - Kazuki's birthday cake! (Kazuki's birthday is indeed on May 16th)

May 24th, 2023 | Kazuki's 37th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - nighttime street photo

June 29th, 2023 | Kazuki's 38th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - hydrangea garden

June 2023 | Special Drama CD Volume 1 Audio on Soundcloud & English translation by kudouusagi on Tumblr. Thank you kudouusagi!!! ♡♡♡ We appreciate you!!

Also for the Drama CD Volume 1, the angel known as gandoon on Youtube posted the Special Drama CD Volume 1 with English subtitles and images from the anime. (ノ ˘_˘)ノ thank you gandoon.

Summer 2023 | Special Drama CD Volume 2 Audio on Soundcloud & English translation by kudouusagi on. Tumblr. Thank you, kudouusagi ♡ Drama CD photo thanks to @moriokart ♡

Summer 2023 | Special Drama CD Volume 3 Audio on Soundcloud & English translation by kudouusagi on Tumblr. Thank you, kudouusagi ♡ Drama CD photo thanks to @moriokart ♡

Summer 2023 | Special Drama CD Volume 4 Audio on Soundcloud & English translation by kudouusagi on Tumblr. Thank you, kudouusagi ♡ you're the best! Drama CD photo thanks to @moriokart ♡

August 11th, 2023 | Kazuki's 39th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - Rei's birthday cake! (a day late) (Rei's birthday is August 10th)

November 8th, 2023 | Kazuki's 40th instagram post: fantastic_sweeper0516 - Miri's Birthday cake! (Miri's birthday is indeed November 8th)

This is currently the most recent post. More to come?

Throughout 2023 | The amazing Lily on Twitter has posted drawings of the characters throughout the year and will continue to post them in 2024!! Her latest has them celebrating the holidays and the new year!

★゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

I plan on adding all of her drawings to this master list, but since there's so many that will take a while longer.

I also plan on adding to this list as new content comes out!

OFFICIAL LINKS

Official Website

Official Twitter

Even more news & content on their official platforms including the full soundtrack and an 'on air' radio show.

#buddy daddies #buddy daddies anniversary #anime #kazuki kurusu #rei suwa #miri unasaka

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dk-wren · 28 days

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Ep. 12 "Daughter Daddies" Rewatch

Wanted to do one more thing for today's one year anniversary, so thought I would share all the notes I took on my rewatch of the finale!

It's not much (and I will be including the thoughts I previously shared on this post), but I do hope you enjoy!

I still can’t get over the fact that Rei and Miri both have their own aprons now too! Though I’ve still yet to fully figure out what Rei’s is. For whatever, reason the white coloring makes me think it’s a polar bear on the front, but I don’t know how much sense that would make otherwise. I feel like if Kazuki bought the aprons, it’s likely a cat on Rei’s apron. (And that’s this episodes random thought or detail I’ve spent too much time thinking about)

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Another moment that always manages to melt my heart: Miri struggling to put on her boot because she’s grown that much and the rapid succession of Kazuki asking if she forgot anything, Miri saying no, Kazuki asking about her handkerchief, her immediately saying she forgot, then Rei joining Kazuki and Miri with said handkerchief in hand. They’re a family y’all and they sure do operate like one.

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Thinking about it now, I kinda wondered why Miri only made Rei make a pinky promise with him. Rei has grown a lot over the series, but between the two, he is still the more reserved and papa. Perhaps, this is why Miri only makes Rei promise since she knows Kazuki will be at the concert no matter what. Based on the translations I had though, when Miri tells them they better be at her concert, especially since her mama, or Misaki, won’t be, Kazuki responds with “We will” while Rei says “We promise.” With Rei explicitly saying “promise,” maybe that’s what leads Miri to make a pinky promise with him, which so clearly affects him for the remainder of the episode

I know it was only last episode and this one, but I like how Rei and Kazuki’s meeting with Kyutaro is done away from Yadorigi. Yadorigi is Kyutaro’s homebase and I would consider, an integral meeting location for the organization. So, meeting in this neutral, nondescript location seems to convey that Kyutaro is also turning his back on the organization. Which he technically is in a way by helping/aiding Rei and Kazuki

The car conversation! They don’t want Miri’s childhood to be anything like their own experiences and are gonna do everything to keep it that way, to ensure she can keep her innocence for as long as possible from the horrors of the underworld, and be the parents, or the papas, they wish they had growing up

What it’s been, like nine months a year and I still cannot get over Kazuki and Rei’s entrance and fight in Suwa Manor! Like, I wish I had more to say but I’m just yelling, rooting for them and love seeing them both be badasses

I know it's been pointed out, but man, the fact that Rei’s hair comes down during the kitchen fight as he is about to deliver the final blow to Ogino, with a little help from Kazuki, just shows his progression of who Rei really is, not the Murder Machine, or a living weapon, but Rei Suwa, a person and father

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Rei isn’t here for any of Shigeki’s shit. He says I’m out and means it.

Another moment where I just scream and cry. Look at how much Rei has grown and opened up, along with learned by spending time away. He’s so deserving of his family and a happy future!!!

It’s so simple, and yet, and yet! the power that comes with Rei saying goodbye not to his Boss but to his Father, oh my gosh. He is not just walking away from the organization and his position, he is fully walking away from his family cause he’s got a new (and better) one waiting for him, just as he is

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Cue Christmas Party and lots of smiley Rei!

Also, kinda joking but kinda serious, you see how Miri immediately lights up when she spots Rei and Kazuki in the audience/entering? That's what happens when parents show up to the events their child considers important. It's so simple, but honestly, just showing up can mean the world.

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I know it’s controversial, but gahhh I really love the epilogue!

Such a small detail, but gotta love how Miri has kept that green teddy bear with her as she’s grown up

Perhaps this is just my imagination, but does teenage Miri’s voice sound different here than the one in Kazuki’s imagination. If so, that’s awesome because Kazuki wouldn’t know how exactly Miri would sound that many years later, and how Miri turned out nothing like Kazuki had feared

I probably should address the elephant in the room when it comes to the sub translating Miri’s line to refer to Kazuki going out with another woman, but what caught my attention during my first watch was Rei’s questioning of Kazuki saying “honest work.” Like, what does that mean? Did they keep working a little bit on the side for Kyutaro to make a little extra cash? Or was Rei questioning Kazuki’s use of “I” instead of “we” since Rei co-runs the diner?

These photos! I love it all! I hope Kazuki, Rei, and Miri are all able to continue living peacefully and with each other for a long time!

#buddy daddies #buddy daddies anime #buddy daddies rewatch #buddy daddies anniversary #miri unasaka #rei suwa #kazuki kurusu

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lotsabuns13 · 1 year

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y'all if the latest ep took place in October then we are already almost at Kazuki and Rei having Miri in their lives for one year. If they do something to celebrate and it gets interrupted with Ogino or Rei's dad pulling some shit I SWEAR

#buddy daddies #kazurei #kazuki kurusu #rei suwa #miri unasaka #anime #lgbtq+#lgbtq #gay #gay anime #gay dads #pa works #give me kazurei celebrating Miri's one year anniversary of being with them

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redcloverf3y · 1 year

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FUCK.

#buddy daddies #this is gonna be so good i can feel it #the anniversary of getting miri?? confronting the organization?? hohohoho

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canterpolr · 4 months

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do your own thing, be productive and cherish every moment you have in life

you will get my tip as soon as you read it… no one would care about what i say anyway, so let me ramble for quite a bit…

initially i was going to start off my main Persona Re:Q au with nibbles amount of drabbles, comics, oil paint styled digital art, and headcanons on april 2023…but alot happened that hindered my plan…

i stopped watching anime after finishing 3 debuted titles within jan to first week of april (mostly kyuushi s2, buddy daddies, and high card)

most of my current hyperfixations went onto my sub-blogs instead

had to take care of my newborn niece for the last week of December

my brother-in-law almost sold his 1-UP and managed to gain another chance

lots of deaths at the outside world including a recent hit and run with a armorless motorcycle and a 6 wheeled truck

we got LITERALLY ROBBED at my previous house

presidental elections were crap and pointless as they were revealed to be RIGGED

JAPAN GOT STRUCK BY AN EARTHQUAKE ONCE AGAIN

witnessed how flawed and crappy every game awards except for gamemaker awards (THEY GOT THEIR BACK)

met a fictional Irish and Italian middle-aged gay couple in a world of sentient pizza ingredients and alcoholic spirits, a deranged manchild in a form of a pizza slice for a head, big bad devil himself and his mole cronies, and learned from them that the WORLD IS NEVER FAIR.

but it does not mean I COULD NEVER APPRECIATE SMALL MIRACLES AND MINIMAL GOOD MEMORIES MADE FROM THE PAST YEAR.

my fellas, we have experience betrayal and cheating…NOT IN DATING AND MARRIAGE, BUT TO POLITICS AND VIDEO GAME AWARD CEREMONIES

do take care and make your own fun.😇

#i will be back starting this year #possibly have to carry on persona q’s 10th anniversary #including mr peabody and sherman and danny phantom as well #also antonblast can’t forget my middle aged baras #persona q #pizza tower #kyuushi #buddy daddies #antonblast

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azkaleather · 1 year

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Unisex RFID blocking, engraving option,

#leather wallet #leather purse #victorian #vintage #international women's day #handmade #etsy #buddy daddies #leather #ides of march #the last of us #anniversary gifts #women gift #boyfriend gift #gift for her #gift for him #gift for dad

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whatsnewalycat · 13 days

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SURRENDER

Part Two of Ruthless | Stepdad Joel Miller x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 6.2k+

Warnings: non-canon, Boston Joel, dub con, step-cest, sneaky sex, use of the word daddy in a sexual context, dad kink (that’s a thing right?), age gap, degradation, praise kink, avoidance, silent treatment, sneaking into bedroom at night, angst, collective grief, mentions of explosions and gunshots (nothing graphic), *it’s about the yearning*, hair pulling, no physical descriptions of reader aside from hair can be pulled, reader is 18-19, Joel being a bad dom and a bad caretaker, hot shower, food mention, mentions of religion, unethical D/s dynamics, dry humping, anal sex, physical restraint, face fucking, sub-space unlocked, dirty talk, dd/lg maybe i think, masochism, like a lick of fluff if u squint

A/N: Heeeey buddy. As stated above, this is a second part to Ruthless. Big thanks to my love @frannyzooey for the help and hype, you're the best. Please be mindful of the warnings and tell me what cults you think exist in post-outbreak tlou.

[ my masterlist ] [ taglist ] [ AO3 ]

———

As the 19-year anniversary of Outbreak Day draws near, unrest festers in the streets of Boston.

Whenever August ticks over into September, residents of the QZ seem to divide into three distinct categories: people who want to forget, people who won’t let them forget, and people who are too young to remember.

Born post-apocalypse, you fall into this third category.

Which doesn’t mean the ripples of loss don’t touch you, contrary to what some may think. You still lost something. Everyone did.

This fact is apparent when you take the scenic route home from your job posting at the distribution center.

Rubble crunches under your shoes as you walk down the crowded sidewalk, passing by a message spray-painted over the battered brick building: WE’VE BEEN FORSAKEN.

Graffitied sentiments like these pop up constantly this time of year. Overnight, almost. Your mom and Joel mostly blame Fireflies for the vandalism. The bombs, too. Apparently they stir shit up to make people uneasy, then recruit those who seem susceptible. That’s what your mom thinks, anyway. ‘Leveraging their grief against them,’ she says.

You think it might be more than that, though.

Yesterday you saw three separate arguments break out in the streets. When you were taking inventory of k-rations this morning, an explosion went off so close-by that boxes rattled off the shelves. It was the second bombing this week, and you don’t foresee it getting better until October.

Sure, the Fireflies lay claim to the lion’s share of vandalism and destruction, but their activity is consistent year round. They are the baseline. But this? This is different.

You attribute the excess chaos to this heavy, static feeling in the air. It clings to your skin and gets stuck under your nails like a thick cloud of invisible dust or spores. Microscopic particles embed themselves in the cracks and creases of each person inside the QZ, fertile ground for clusters of violence to sprout up at every turn.

If you had to guess, you’d say this phenomenon probably spans the globe. All of you felt the loss of Outbreak Day, the whole human collective. Echoes of what humanity lost will likely still be heard a thousand years from now.

Some people refuse to accept this.

Like the guy a few strides ahead of you, who walks by an orange spray-painted message that reads REMEMBER WHAT YOU LOST and sneers, “Almost twenty goddamn years, fuckin’ let it go and move on.”

You watch him. See his neck get all red as he mutters to himself and clenches his fists at his sides. He looks around like he expects someone to challenge him. Nobody does.

This doesn’t seem to satisfy him.

Further up the sidewalk, he encounters a memorial made up of candles and wilting flowers hugging the side of a residential building. He kicks it over and repeats his earlier sentiment, this time louder and directed towards the brick wall.

“It’s been twenty fucking years, get the fuck over it already!”

Of course, a passing spectator indulges him.

“Hey—watch it, asshole!”

The two men puff up their chests and start yelling back and forth, so you cut right down an alleyway to avoid the situation completely.

When you arrive home, you find Joel at the dining room table, hunched over a map, holding a glass of whiskey like it’s a lifeline.

Neither of you say hello, but when you glance up while untying your gritty shoelaces, you catch him staring at you.

A jolt of electricity shoots through you.

He corrects himself, returning his eyes to the map as he takes a big swig from his glass.

“Mom home?”

“No.”

Nodding, you rise to your feet and slip out of your shoes, squirming with the excitement that one syllable brings you.

“When’s she gonna be home?”

He doesn’t look at you. Just shrugs and takes a sip of whiskey, too engrossed in his project to spare you attention.

For weeks, he’s been trying his hardest to pretend you don’t exist, which would be typical behavior if he didn’t fuck you dumb a few weeks ago. Sometimes you’re not even sure that what happened between you was real.

But, then again, sometimes… sometimes you feel him staring at you when he doesn’t think you’ll notice. Sometimes he touches your waist as he passes by. Sometimes at night you hear him pacing the hall outside your bedroom, the faint squeak of the warped floorboards giving him away.

When this happens, you stare at the door and will him to do it. Aching with something stronger than want, you pray for him to cross the threshold. But he never does.

You exhale through slack lips and wrinkle your nose at the canned goods.

“Hungry?”

He grunts in response, which is Joel for ‘I could eat.’

Tilting your head at the handwritten labels, you present the options, “Stew or… meat and beans?”

Another grunt, roughly translating to ‘Both options are fucking terrible,’ a sentiment with which you wholeheartedly agree. You grab the stew and empty it into a saucepan on the gas stovetop.

While it heats, you steal glances at Joel, noticing the rigidity in his demeanor. His set jaw and tense muscles. The deep creases in his furrowed brow.

You’ve coexisted with him long enough to understand he’s not immune to the heady thrum of anguish in the air this time of year. Like you said, nobody is.

Joel distinctly falls into the “people who want to forget” category of the forsaken, but carries whatever or whoever he lost on Outbreak Day like a ten thousand-pound weight on his broad shoulders. He white-knuckles his way through the season of chaos and mourning and tries to act like it doesn’t affect him, but it does.

You can tell, not just from the way he holds the grief captive in his body, but also from the obvious indulgence in his favorite coping mechanism: planning.

Joel is a meticulous planner.

Between smuggling runs, he comes home after a long day of manual labor at some job site and unwinds by plotting logistics. Drinking, too, but he clearly has a favorite.

Hours will go by while he pours over reference material, maps or blueprints, making addendums of any notable changes he and your mom discovered. After this, he deliberates. Joel could chew up weeks with this step. He plots out each possible route, taking into consideration all the penciled-in shortcuts and caches they’ve stashed within a 30-mile radius, then determines the most beneficial path for their next big adventure.

Given FEDRA’s current paranoid state, with the increased patrols and surveillance and whatnot, your mom and Joel won’t be making a trip outside anytime soon. But still, he drinks and plots and winds himself up into a tight obsessive knot.

You divvy up the simmering stew into two bowls, placing one next to his glass of bootleg booze while you take a seat across the table from him. He ignores your presence, just flicks his eyes around the map like it’s supposed to give him the answers.

When you’re halfway done with your bowl, you gently prod him, “It’s gonna get cold.”

Sitting up in his chair, he sighs and scrubs his face with his hands, then folds up the map and sets it aside.

The two of you eat in silence. Each wordless second twists hot beneath your skin. Your mind wanders to the dig of his fingertips in your soft flesh. The sting of his flattened palm. The stretch of his thick cock. The things he said to you—fuck.

You’re tempted to tell him to do it again. To tell him that you’re still abiding by his rules. That you don’t sneak out anymore. That you haven’t felt the sweet bliss of release for weeks because you don’t fucking come without his permission.

Over and over, you rehearse it in your head. You imagine yourself telling him, ‘I’ve been so good for you and you haven’t even noticed.’

The sound of him clearing his throat pulls you from your thoughts.

He shifts in his seat a little, studying you, “You still seein’ that boy downstairs?”

Your heart stutters. Heat floods your veins as you shake your head.

“Why not?”

All you can do is stare at him while trying to verbalize an answer. For weeks, you ached for his attention. And now that you have it? The words are stuck in your throat.

You shrug, pushing your empty bowl away to lean your elbows on the table. When you look up at him again, he blinks. Waiting for a response.

A rush of adrenaline makes the world around you buzz.

“Why do you care?”

He clenches his jaw for a moment, then parts his lips to respond.

The apartment door swings open.

Both of you start at the intrusion. You jump to your feet to collect the dirty dishes while Joel turns to greet your mother.

“It’s a fucking madhouse out there,” she grumbles, then pulls out the seat adjacent to him and starts telling him about her day.

———

You step into the shower and hiss in reaction to the scalding hot water.

The fact that it's warmed at all surprises you. Not an unwelcome surprise, even if it hurts a little. Most days the water comes out tepid at best, and you’d gladly accept a third-degree burn over a lukewarm shower.

Besides, the sting feels right on your skin, as weird as that sounds. You relish the pain while washing yourself, thinking, ‘this is what I deserve for feeling this way.’ Hell fire, if the sidewalk preachers are right. If there is such a thing. If you’re not there already.

Only once the water runs cold do you turn it off and go back to your room, leaving the door cracked open behind you. After putting on a big t-shirt and some underwear, you turn off the lights and climb into bed.

For a while you stare at the water-stained ceiling and listen. You hear the roar of FEDRA’s armed vehicles patrolling the streets. Far away, gunshots ring out into the night. Some kid starts crying next door, then his mother lulls him back to sleep.

Closing your eyes, you try to tune it all out and focus on the noises within this unit. Concentrate on the drip-drip-drip of the bathtub faucet. The ripping sound of your mom’s snores.

Then, you hear it.

A creak from the floorboards. Footsteps.

Their bedroom door squeaking open.

Everything goes silent long enough for you hold your breath and scream inside your head, please please please—

It starts again. One careful step, then another.

His presence hovers there at the door for six restless seconds before he opens it and steps inside, closing it behind him.

Your pounding heart squeezes your breath ragged. It comes out this shallow, shaky push and pull that broadcasts your consciousness.

Still, you pretend.

You keep your eyes pinned shut and listen to the advance of his footsteps to your bedside.

Down by your feet, the mattress shifts under his weight. He doesn’t touch you for a while, only watches you, his gaze burning into your skin.

Then, he murmurs, “I know you’re not sleepin’.”

You blink your eyes open to look at him, in boxers and an undershirt, all hunched over at the foot of your bed. Always carrying that weight on his shoulders. The glow of the street lamp outside your bedroom window casts this perfect golden light on him that makes you kind of hate how good he looks.

“What are you doing?” you ask in a whisper.

Over the blanket, he rests his hand on your calf, then takes it back and shakes his head.

You roll onto your side, swinging one leg over the blanket and tucking it between your thighs, a wordless plea for him to touch your hungry skin. Joel shifts further onto the bed, turning his body to stare down at you with a straight spine. His gaze drifts up your exposed skin, fingers twitching in his lap.

This faltering self-discipline compels you.

Joel is nothing if not self-disciplined. That much is true for all the forsaken, yourself included.

Your working theory is that nobody wants after the world ends, they just need. Need to sleep, need to eat, need to fight. Anything to survive one more fucking day. It’s all any of you can ask for.

So do you want him, or do you need him?

And what about him? Joel fucking Miller, with his reinforced concrete walls and heavy heart. Was he ever capable of wanting?

“Joel,” you reach out to touch him, beckoning him to meet you halfway.

His eyes flick to your outstretched hand, then back to your face. He shakes his head, as if declining the offer, but you don’t retreat. You sit up and crawl across the bed to him.

The column of his throat bobs, head rocking back as he watches you come to a stop. He almost lets you touch his cheek when you try again, but snatches your hand away before you can make contact.

“Don’t,” he warns, the tone of his hushed voice deadly serious.

He squeezes your fingers while you study his stonewalled expression, tilting your head at him, “Why did you ask me that earlier? If I’m still seeing Bert?”

“I was curious.”

“Curious why?”

His lips part, then close, gaze dropping to your mouth.

Heat pulses through every inch of your body. You drop your voice to a breathy whisper.

“Were you thinking about what you did to me?”

Something flickers behind his eyes when they snap onto yours. It draws you in, urging you to scoot so close your knees butt-up against his jackknifed leg.

“You fucking loved it, didn’t you?” you ask quietly, smirking a little when his stern face twitches, “You loved how it felt to make me surrender—”

The dull throb of his tightening grip around your hand makes you gasp. A rumble slips from his chest, which could be read as a warning if you had an ounce of self-control left. If you didn’t need him to combust.

You let your gaze drift from his burning gaze down the slope of his nose to his lips, “Do you think about it every time you see me, like I do with you? How fucking good it felt?”

“It was wrong—”

“Then why are you here?”

Your question comes out louder than you expected. It ricochets through the charged space between his body and yours, popping the bubble of awareness around you.

All the little sounds you picked up on earlier seep back into the foreground. FEDRA patrolling. The whiz-pop of firecrackers going off maybe a block away. A faint murmur of conversation in the upstairs unit.

He holds your stare, but doesn’t make a sound until a snore rips from your mom’s chest, signaling crisis averted. When he speaks, his words come out hushed and calm.

“You need to be quiet. Understand?”

The command liquifies your bones.

You lick your lips and nod, “I understand.”

“Good.” He studies you as if deep in thought, finally releasing your hand to pinch your chin and assert, “You know why I’m here. Stop pretendin’ you don’t.”

It’s hard not to fall in line when he’s looking down at you like this, all hot-blooded and self-assured. Cocky, almost. But you try to push his buttons anyway.

“I thought it was wrong.”

“Don’t get cute with me. Yes or no?”

Your pulse flutters. Tongue goes numb. All you can do is nod.

He jostles your head a little, “Say it.”

“Yes.”

“Say yes please.”

“Yes please.”

He works his jaw back and forth, studying you, then tugs your shirt.

“Take this off.”

While you pull the offending garment over your head and toss it aside, Joel moves further onto the mattress, leaning back against the wall.

You follow him, swallowing the static buzzing in your throat as he ushers you onto his lap. The scrape of his rough hands on your waist may as well be a live wire crackling across your skin. He pulls you closer and closer until your belly presses into the worn cotton of his shirt. The heat between your legs settles on his stiff length. When he twitches against you, a heady electric current courses through your body and coaxes a whimper from your lips.

It seems too intimate to look at him, so you cast your gaze downward. Your shaky hands lay flat against his chest, absorbing the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

Being with him like this feels strange. Not strange how it sometimes is with a new partner, that clumsiness before you know how your bodies work together.

It’s strange in a fucked up out-of-context sort of way. Of course, growing up around him never conditioned you to think of him like this. Joel fucking Miller, with his scarred-up knuckles and unending apathy. The only man who could make big brown eyes like that seem cold.

All those years, you never considered him anything more than an obstacle.

Even then, if there was some tiny shimmer of attraction lingering under your skin, a piece of you that wanted more from him, you never thought he could feel so solid and soft and alive. You never dreamed he could make you feel so fucking good.

“This stays between us,” he tells you, more of a command than a request.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

The tips of his fingers dig into your hips, and he purrs, “You’ve been good for me, haven’t you?”

You preen at the warm timbre of his voice, body arching into him as you breathe, “Yes.”

Under your touch, his muscles tense. He exhales hot against your cheek and guides your hips in a rocking motion, slow and steady, rubbing all those aching nerves hard against him.

“You liked it, too. Didn’t you? How I fucked you last time?”

A low-frequency hum throbs deep inside you, amplifying every sensation tenfold. You nod, rolling your hips faster, “I did, I liked it.”

“Yeah, you liked it? Or did you fucking love it?” he hisses, “Dirty little slut like you. Bet you loved getting fucked in the ass, didn’t you?”

“Oh my god, Joel—”

“Tell me.”

“Yes yes yes I fucking loved it—”

Too loud.

He ceases all movement, locking you in place with a steel grip. All ten of his digits bury themselves in your skin. The exquisite pain makes you gasp.

“Hush.”

You clamp down on your lips in an attempt to stifle yourself. Each heaving breath wiggles down to your core and back.

“Look at me.”

If you do, you’ll dissolve at the edges. You know it. You are sugar paper and he is a humid room and you are so incredibly fucked.

Pinching your eyes shut harder, you shake your head and whisper, “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll come if I do.”

The confession makes him throb underneath you. He husks, “Do it, look at me.”

You do.

Even in the shadows you can make out his features, his parted lips and hooded gaze. The desire etched into his face as he stares at you, looking mystified in a way you’ve never seen before. Heat percolates beneath your skin, sending your heartbeat racing.

His hips arch into you just so, then he pulls you in and pushes you back, rubbing your body against his, “Do you wanna come? Come for me just like this?”

“Please—please,” you whine, feeling pleasure branch out from your middle as he slides you back and forth, “Please I wanna come for you it’s been so long—”

“Will you be quiet?”

Swallowing a moan, you nod frantically.

His eyes flicker around your face and he breathes, “Go ahead.”

You’re not sure if it’s the flames in his eyes or the fact that you haven’t had an orgasm in almost two months, but the second he gives you permission, the ecstasy you tried so hard to contain spills over the edges and floods your body. It pulses through you hot and hard and makes your mind go white. You have to clasp your hand over your mouth to muffle the guttural noises that try to escape.

“That’s it,” he coos from far away, still grinding your twitching body against him, “There we go. That’s my good girl, hmm?”

“Oh my god—” you whimper at the sharp aftershocks that shoot through you, “It feels so good, Joel, fuck—”

“Do you wanna come again?”

Nodding, you link your hands behind his neck and set yourself in motion, rubbing against him a little faster than his set rhythm. His eyelids flutter as he throws his head back, the muscles under his shirt going taught. Beneath the thin fabric of his boxers, he’s hard as a fucking rock.

Releasing the tight grasp on your hips, he roams up your sensitive skin to your breasts and tests their weight before squeezing. It shoots through you, the pleasure and pain indistinguishable, just a throbbing rush of need. Your breathing comes in heaving gasps and you pinch your eyes shut again, tilting your head towards the ceiling as you once again find yourself struggling to keep quiet.

“Eyes on me,” he reminds you.

You snap them open and meet his.

“Good girl.”

And—god, the way he looks at you, his gaze hungry and wild. Fucking maddening. Simultaneously, you wish he would stop—the contact too intense, too intimate—and pray that it never fucking ends.

Heat bubbles up inside you. You bury your fists in his hair and roll your hips faster, chasing the scorching need for more.

He hisses and pushes back against your thrusts, murmuring, “That’s it, grind that pussy on me, make yourself feel good.”

“Fuck—fuck yes, it feels so fucking good—”

“I can feel how fucking wet you are, leakin’ all over me. You do love it, don’t you, baby?”

You start to tremble and nod, trying your hardest to whisper when you tell him, “Yes yes yes I do I fucking love it—I wanna come again, can I please come again, please please—”

“Listen to you. So good, askin’ for permission.” He brings a hand to your face and brushes his knuckles against your cheek, “Such a quick learner.”

“Joel—”

“Do it. Make yourself come again.”

Something untethers inside you. Heartbeat pounding behind your ears, you work your body against him in jerky movements, each one more delicious than the last. His eyes burn into yours, all heavy-lidded and lust-blown in the darkness, watching your face twist up with pleasure as the hot gooey feeling between your legs stretches wider and wider, then overtakes you completely.

You give in to it with a shattered breath, burying your face against his shoulder to muffle your moans. He holds you down, making sure you smother your cries in the damp cotton of his t-shirt as wave after electric wave washes over you.

When your spasms start to peter out, and your rolling hips come to a stop, he releases his stronghold to pet your hair. Your heaving chests meld together, breath syncing up into a steady ebb and flow as he smooths his palm up and down your spine.

For a moment, it’s just this. Just the soothing motion of him rubbing your back, calming your boneless body. Soft and quiet with everything else stripped away.

Emotion swells in your chest and tingles up your throat, behind your eyes. You try to hide it, the fact that you’re crying, but it becomes obvious when a sob escapes you.

Joel shifts a little, then tilts your chin up to meet his eyes. He searches your face and frowns, furrowing his brow.

“I’m sorry,” you wipe your tears and cast your eyes downward, “I—I don’t know why this is happening, I’m sorry. I’m stupid.”

“No—hey, no,” he assures you, “It’s fine.”

You shake your head.

“Look at me,” he commands, and when you do, he cups your cheek and holds your gaze, “It-it’s normal to feel… emotional. Really, it’s ok.”

The warmth and sincerity of this—his touch, his eyes, his words—makes your heart stutter. It curls up inside you and sedates your jumpy nerves.

You sniffle and nod, “Ok.”

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he studies you, bringing his hands to your waist. The longer you stare at each other, the more all the subtle signs of his lust come back into focus. How his tongue peaks out to wet his lips when he looks at your mouth. The heavy thudding of his heart. His strained breath and throbbing cock.

Your gaze drifts to his lips. A needy, aching desire simmers at the base of your spine. It seems wrong to kiss him. More sensual than sexual, rooted in something he will never have for you. But still, you wonder.

You wonder how soft his plush lips would feel against yours. How he would taste. Whether or not he would use tongue, or teeth, or both.

Your fingertips twitch hesitantly towards his mouth. He doesn’t pull away or admonish you, even though you give him ample time to protest. When you make contact, smoothing your touch over the pillow of his bottom lip, he murmurs against your fingers, “I’m not your boyfriend. I’m never gonna be, either, I wanna make that clear. That’s not what this is.”

“I know you’re not my fucking boyfriend, Joel.” You scoff at the thought, “Boyfriend. I don’t want that. I don’t need a boyfriend. What I need…” you watch your touch drift from his mouth to his jawline, where you scrape your nails through his scruff, “What I need is someone to fuck the thoughts out of my head.”

“Fuck the thoughts outta your head,” he repeats, almost a chuckle, “That’s what you need, huh?”

“That’s what you need, too. Isn’t it?”

Something smolders behind his gaze as he searches your face.

“You can use me, you know. Take whatever you need from me. Use me like a fuck toy, Joel, I fucking need it.”

His whole body reacts to your request, muscles flexing taught as he clenches his jaw.

You bat your lashes at him and pull yourself close enough to feel his breath on yours when you ask, “Don’t you need a little fuck toy like me, daddy?”

“You’re a sick girl, you know that?”

“You like it.”

Neither of you can deny the other’s accusation, resulting in a stand-off that tingles beneath your skin and makes your heart pound in your throat.

Subconsciously, you rock your hips forward and suck in breath when his cock throbs against your clit. He pushes back, flooding your veins with fire, “Are you gonna keep quiet if I fuck you?”

“Are you gonna shut me up if I can’t?”

He lets out one single amused chuckle, then asks, “Are you really tryna test me right now?”

Suppressing a smile, you shake your head.

“That’s what I thought.”

Something in the way he says it blooms heat in your chest. His tone teasing, almost playful.

He gives your ass a light smack, then tugs at your underwear, “Take these off.”

You roll off him onto the mattress and slide them down your legs while he stands to strip naked. Seeing his cock makes your body hum. It stands at attention, bobbing a little when Joel catches you staring.

Sidling up to the bed, he beckons you closer, so you follow his silent guidance and crawl over to him, wrapping your hand around his thick length. You glance up at him, licking your lips as you await further instructions.

“Get it nice ‘n’ wet for me.”

Nodding, you bring your mouth to the head of his cock, exploring first with your tongue, licking up the salty dribbles of lust. You taste a hint of yourself on him too, arousal that soaked through his boxers and marked him yours. Temporarily, at least. At least for tonight, or at least for right now.

A pleased rumble erupts from his chest when you wrap your lips around him and start to slide up and down his shaft. He feels solid and warm and fills your mouth completely. The first time he hits the back of your throat, you gag and pull off him, working him with your hands as you catch your breath.

“Do it again.”

You take him in your mouth, rutting up and down a few times before sitting up taller to drive him down your throat. He buries his fists in your hair and thrusts his hips forward, “There we go, that’s it—fuck, you’re so fucking good at that.”

His praise sparks at your core. You whine around his cock and bob against his thrusts. It doesn’t matter that you can’t breathe. You don’t need oxygen, you just need this. The sting of his grip prodding your movements, the raw stretch of him fucking your airway, the wet squelch that fills the room.

When he yanks your head back and unclogs your throat, you gasp for breath and stroke him with both hands, churning his slick length. Fire roars in his eyes when you look up at him.

He grabs your chin and husks, “Say thank you.”

“Thank you.”

He smacks your cheek and grabs your chin again, “Say thank you for fucking my face.”

“Thank you for fucking my face, I fucking love it—”

“Say please can I have some more.”

“Please can I have some more, daddy?”

Stifling a groan, he crams it back in your drooling mouth, down your throat, snapping his hips in sharp, quick thrusts that make you gurgle with pleasure around him. Far away, you hear him panting, “Take it take it take it—”

The chorus makes your body tingle. You think about your mom sleeping in the other room, how there’s just a wall between her and this. How she could wake up at any moment and follow the muffled, hedonistic noises. How she would find Joel balls deep in your mouth and you giving him something she never could: control.

This time when he pulls you off his cock, he uses his white-knuckle grip on your hair to make you flip over and turn around, ass in the air towards him.

The head of him nudges up against the tight ring of your asshole. You hear a wet splat, then feel the heat of his spit trickling down between your cheeks. Your body clenches with anticipation as he smears it around.

“Remember, you gotta relax,” he murmurs, releasing your hair to smooth a palm against your spine.

You inhale a deep breath and exhale the tension from your muscles, letting your heart melt into the mattress.

“Good girl,” he arches forward, breaching your entrance.

The sharp sensation splits you open. It pulls a wanton moan from your lips that rings through the silent apartment like a siren.

Yanking you up by your hair, Joel secures your back to his humid chest and clasps a hand over your mouth. Stars invade your field of vision as he drives his cock deeper and deeper, only stopping when he can’t go any further. You sob against his palm, so he pulls it down harder, muffling the noise until you stop.

Everything goes silent and still, but you can’t even bring yourself to worry that you woke her. Not when all you can hear is your thudding heart and his ragged breath, coarse with what you assume is rage or lust or both. Not with his lightning rod cock vibrating hot up your middle.

It doesn’t matter that she could walk in to find her common-law husband fucking your ass, or that this discovery would burn all your lives to the ground. All you care about is more. More stimulation, more attention, more Joel—more more more—

You try to move your hips in an attempt to create friction, but his vice grip renders you immobile. So you stay in place and try not to make noise as the flames lick at your insides. You squirm and ache and claw at his arms while he muffles your whimpers.

Then your mom snores in the other room.

He pulls his hand from your mouth and you gasp for air.

Thinking you can get ahead of the inevitable scolding, you plead, “I’m sorry—”

He drags his cock out of your body, then plunges it back inside, all the while hissing, “If you’re gonna be my little fuck toy—”

“Holy fuck—”

“—You have to be fucking quiet. Do you understand?”

Nodding, you gasp, “I understand, I’ll do better, I promise—please just fuck me, please please—”

You strangle a moan in your throat when he slips a hand between your legs and draws tedious circles on your clit.

“Try ‘n’ breathe through it,” he coaches, “I’ll go slow for you this time, ok? Just remember, shut the fuck up and take deep breaths.”

You suck in air until your chest is full, then release it, restricting its flow through a narrow space between your lips. You do it again. Tension begins to melt from your bones. It has a clarifying effect, allowing you to relish in the heat of his touch. You take another deep breath, only hitting a snag when Joel starts to rock his hips.

It feels fucking unreal. Rough and raw, the steady drag of his cock fills you with static electricity over and over.

“Oh fuck—”

“Shhh…”

Your inhale stutters, but you regain control on the exhale. Everything disappears except him. His heated skin sticking to yours. How fucking full he makes you feel with each thrust. The thick swell of pleasure that accumulates every time he flicks his wrist. You surrender to all of it, to Joel, entrusting him with everything except your breath.

“That’s it, baby, let go.”

“It feels ssso gooood,” you whisper, head rolling back onto his shoulder, “Nothing’s ever felt this good, holy shit—”

His lips tickle your ear as he purrs, “Such a good little fuck toy, aren’t you, baby?”

You gasp a little when the velvet of his tongue rolls against your pulse. Nodding, you reach back behind his neck to scrape your fingernails through his curls. He does it again, this time sealing his lips to suck on the sensitive skin. Your heart pounds thick and hot through your body. The edges peel back at the corner of your mind. You push back against his thrusts, panting out subdued whimpers as the fire in your belly begins to spread.

“Do you wanna come?”

“I do, I wanna come—oh my god I wanna come, please make me come, daddy—”

His hand covers your mouth and holds you down so he can fuck you harder, stretching you out wide and filling you deep. He works your clit faster. The bed frame thumps against the wall in a frantic rhythm that matches the wet slap of his thrusts. Tears prick your eyes and heat swells beneath your skin, pressure building more and more until you think you can’t fucking take it anymore—

His palm smothers your moans as you fall apart, breaking into a million pieces and coming back together again with a choked sob. Joel buries his face in the crook of your neck and groans as his hips snap forward, then stutter to a stop.

The two of you go slack propping each other up, too loose-limbed and lethargic to peel yourselves away at first. He makes the first move to separate, though, uncovering your mouth to brush the damp hair from your forehead, “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you tell him instinctively, then second-guess yourself and look up to meet his eyes, “I mean, I don’t know. I think so.”

He studies you, nodding.

Hesitation buzzes in your chest when you contemplate whether or not to return his question. It seems unlikely he’d cooperate even if you wanted to know the answer. So instead, you give him his out.

“Is this goodnight, then?”

“Suppose it is.”

A flicker of something passes between your bodies as you stare at each other. It feels so hot to the touch that you chicken out, glancing away as you whisper, “Will you do something for me before you go?”

“Hmm?”

“Tuck me in?”

The noise that comes out of him is half-grunt, half-chuckle. Joel for, ‘You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.’ But he obliges, pulling his soft cock from your body at a mercifully slow speed before allowing you to make yourself comfortable. He sorts out your blanket and drapes it over your body, then starts fishing his clothes off the floor.

Tugging his shirt over his head, he asks, “Need anything else, princess?”

You’re sure it’s a dig, but choose to ignore it as you snuggle into the covers and hint, “Don’t make me wait so long next time.”

He sits down at the edge of your mattress and threads his legs through the boxers, “I’ll make you wait as long as you need to. What else?”

“Mmm. Goodnight kiss?”

“Goodnight kiss,” he scoffs to himself, then looks back over his shoulder at you, “Fine, then I’m goin’ to bed.”

He turns to face you more directly, folding a knee onto the bed as he leans in and tilts your head to the side, pressing a gentle kiss into your cheek. Even though you wish he had kissed your lips, you close your eyes and savor the affection while you can.

After murmuring goodnight, Joel leaves. He crawls back into bed with your mother while you memorize the sound of his retreating footsteps.

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cherryheartssblog · 2 months

Text

SECRET ADMIRER

Summary: Y/N’s family is a wealthy family, her parents snub up their noses to a lot of people. When throwing a party, Y/N soon figured out she has a secret admirer, that her parents would never approve of.

Warnings: 18+, smut, wealthy family!, higher class neighborhood families!, country clubs!, fake business!, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is in forties), drinking!, readers curves are mentioned!, daddy kink! daddy issues, slight! mommy issues!, rough sex, reader is in college!, readers parents are snobs!, spanking!, pet names (sweetheart, my girl, etc.), daddy kink!, choking!, dirty talk!, domjoel!, joel calls reader slut!, public sex!(kind of), talks of spoiled reader!, mentions of divorce!, Joel has no kids!, cursing!, little angst!, rich! Joel, praise kink!, crying!,body shaming (if you squint), readers parents are assholes!, mentions of sugar daddies!, reader is girly!, reader wears dresses and girly clothing!, parents do not like Joel!, doggy style! (beside a mirror)- just wait, and not fully edited.

A/N: I have only wrote a Joel miller one shot once. So I’m trying again, a little bit more deeper. I do hope you enjoy! PLEASE tell me if I missed any warnings/ need to add them nicely! I’m trying to get better with them! THANK you so much and I’m so thankful for you all💝😭!!

Could this be any more depressing?

Y/N sunglasses perched atop her nose. Her tennis skirt, adorned with a matching polo, tastefully covered her mid-thigh, Out from the patio, her father's buddies could be seen sipping their beers and playing golf at her parents' exclusive country club.

Y/N and her mother were seated at a comfortable distance from the patio of the country club, accompanied by their friends. They were indulging in a delightful brunch and sipping on mimosas to enhance their experience. The clinking of glasses and laughter filled the air as they chatted away, oblivious to their surroundings.

Oh, this was depressing.

Y/N sat at the dinner table, pushing her food around her plate with her fork. Her sunglasses covered her eyes, but now and then, she couldn't resist stealing a glance at the man sitting across from her. He was a frequent visitor to their home and a country club member. He is always ready with a kind word and a helping hand to Y/N. However, Y/N knew that her father despised him. Whenever they were back home, her father would rant about the man who lived just a few houses down the street. Y/N couldn't help but wonder when her father's hatred had begun and what he saw in the man that she couldn't.

Joel fucking Miller.

He was older than her, and maybe she was drawn to that. He was a beautiful older male, and she could not help but take a second glance when he moved in a couple of years ago. Y/N was at home for college for the summer, and this older man came by in an older truck after being invited to a barbecue that her parents still could not shut up about to this day.

If he has money, he needs a better car.

No wonder his wife left him.

Y/N's parents were not always kind to him. However, once they discovered he was a skilled mechanic with a successful business in town and their precious white Cadillac was not running, they started to warm up to him, even if it wasn't genuine. Y/N's parents were known to be fake and gossip behind people's backs. Despite their rocky relationship, Y/N loved her parents because they gave her everything she wanted. She was spoiled and had a large room upstairs in their house, as well as her room at the country club.

Y/N parents were having their wedding anniversary celebration. Her mother had meticulously planned an elegant and formal party, which was exactly what she had envisioned. Y/N's father, on the other hand, would have preferred to keep it simple. However, he knew how much this occasion meant to his wife, so he agreed to follow her plans. Y/N was well aware that her father would have done the same for her if she had played the perfect daughter role, just like her mother expected her to.

Y/N’s trance was broken, her eyes shifting from the attractive older male in a darker polo with shorts. Why does this man look good in shorts? Y/N tried to maintain a smile with her mother, her eyes being covered with shades. “Are you going to eat, dear?” Her mother picked up fruit, her mothers friends eyes shifted to her. Her mothers three closest friends, were worse than her mom to say the least.

Maybe they rubbed off on her.

Y/N’s mother's attitude could switch with any of them in any moment. The younger woman’s reddened face was luckily covered, pushing her shades up. “Yes, Mother, just not too hungry this morning.” Y/N was not lying, and she could not get an appetite. Her mind was wandering, and her eyes could not move from Joel.

He swung his golf club repeatedly, practicing his hit while Y/N’s father played his shot. From what Y/N could see of the game, Joel was at least beating her father. Y/N wondered if her father was jealous of this man; maybe that's where his hatred came from. She could have swore his eyes would move to her stares, maybe gawking at her. Y/N knew she was too far away where he would notice her stares, but she could still see his perfect features.

His hair was longer, curler. Joel had his own pair of shades, grabbing another beer from the cooler on the golf cart. Y/N’s eyes would shift back and forth to her plate, slowly saying the food on her plate.

“Don't wanna overeat, love,” one of her mother's friends opened up, “Still have to fit in that dress in a couple of days.” She playfully sent a wink to Y/N while the four of them giggled right in front of her. Y/N shifted uncomfortably; she fought the water behind her eyes that wanted to escape. Her mother even shrugged it off with a laugh, giving Y/N a few fruit pieces.

“Here sweetie, eat fruit.”

Y/N could only nod, desperately wanting to leave the table. She came home for the summer, she hoped this summer would be better than the rest. She might have been better off going with her friends on their beach trip. But Joel could be an escape for her.

He was an escape, but Y/N wanted more. She knew she needed more, she craved more. When Joel moved in a couple years ago, becoming a member of the country club he took a liking in to woman. She was different than her parents, she seemed like sweet angel. Joel had been lonely for awhile, being married to his work ratber than looking for love.

Joel couldn't shake off the regret that had been gnawing at him ever since his ex-wife left him. Deep down, he knew it was because he didn't give her the attention she deserved. He had taken her love for granted, assuming that she would always be there for him. But as things turned out, she had reached her breaking point and left him.

From that day on, Joel promised he would never make the same mistake again. He was determined to treat his next partner like a queen, giving her all the attention and love she deserved. And then he met Y/N.

At first, he couldn't believe someone as young and beautiful as her would be interested in him. But as they got to know each other better, Joel realized that Y/N maybe shared the same interest in him. He saw in her the perfect partner he had been searching for, and he was ready to give his all to her.

Y/N finally managed to excuse herself from the table and went to the bathroom. She quickly pulled her shades up and tucked them into her hair, hoping her eyes didn't betray her emotions. Despite her efforts to keep it together, tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. She couldn't help feeling foolish for letting her guard down and allowing herself to be hurt. The urge to cry was so overwhelming that she had to bite her lip to keep from breaking down completely.

The woman's bathroom was luckily empty; she locked it behind her, covering her face instantly. No tears fell; she just kept breathing in and out. Y/N considered going to her room; she did not want her mother's friends to win. She went over to the tall mirrors; lights shined behind them.

In the mirror, Y/N saw a few mascara smears cleaning her face a bit. Having her purse in hand, she grabbed for makeup powder to cover up any spots she may have made. Gathering herself together, she got back out of the bathroom in the lobby. Y/N closed up her purse, bumping straight into a taller figure. Feeling hands gripping her, she made eye contact with no other than Joel.

His eyes sparked, meeting hers; Y/N gasped, feeling his grip tighten on her arms. “Woah, hun.” Joel drawled, a smile plastering his face, “I was just thinkin’ of ya.” His hands moving from her, Y/N blushed, trying to gather herself. Her own eyes could not move from his; she gave him a warm smile.

“Thinkin’ of little ole’ me?” Y/N teased, perking up a little bit. Joel's eyes shifted up her bare legs to the pink polo with two buttons open, exposing her chest. She looked so perfect; Joel knew he would worship her body if he ever could have her. His mouth parted, his smirk growing, watching the younger woman bite her lip. Y/N’s teeth dug deeper into her lips than could draw blood, not caring about the eyes that could be on them.

“Oh, any man would be crazy not to think of you, sugar.” Joel’s southern accent drawled out, sending shivers down Y/N’s spine. He was making her speechless and trying to maintain her confidence, gazing around her to see if any eyes moved their way.

“Are you trying to flirt with me, Mr. Miller?” Y/N’s curiosity rose; her father's voice broke Joel and her time.

Y/N's father chuckled warmly as he stood beside his daughter. The man's eyes followed Joel's movements, but he soon shook it off and turned to meet his daughter's gaze. "There's my angel," he said affectionately. "Your mother is looking for you, and she invited you on the shopping trip." Y/N smiled gracefully and exchanged some words with her father. Joel observed her curiously, noticing how her eyes sparkled as she talked to her dad. However, when Y/N's father walked away, Joel's demeanor changed. He grabbed her roughly and pulled her back to him, causing Y/N's stomach to drop as she saw his previously lighter eyes grow darker.

Y/N’s father is too far to notice back out to the open patio of Joel's hands on his daughter. Y/N gasped out, her knees bending down keeping her from falling. Joel’s grip was strong and he would not let Y/N fall.

“What you been cryin’ about?”

How the hell did he know?

Y/N's jaw dropped in disbelief, eagerly awaiting her response. His eyebrow lifted in anticipation, while his eyes narrowed in a curious 'hm' when she remained silent. Without saying a word, he motioned for her to follow him outside, leaving her stunned. Her breathing was increased, and tension still filled the air for her.

Joel was one of her father's enemies. And she wanted to fuck him, and she wanted more than just that. Joel kept giving her the same vibe as well. Y/N wanted the older male, all her thoughts and dreams consumed by him.

He is just a friend.

Y/N tried to tell herself that.

The dress was unbelievably tight, keeping modesty for the occasion; the dress was long, hugging Y/N’s curves. Y/N spent her time trying to escape from her parent's friends, listening to them gossip all about each other.

Y/N let out a deep groan of frustration and signaled the bartender for another drink at the open bar. The overly formal ambiance and the sound of the classical music made her feel nauseous and uneasy. She had lost track of her parents and had not seen them since the speeches a couple of hours ago. As the bartender began to make her drink, she watched intently, observing each step of the process with intense focus.

Y/N savored the salty taste of the olive before gulping down the drink like a parched desert traveler. Sitting alone at the bar, she contemplated leaving early to indulge in the tub and cozy up in bed. The alcohol was starting to kick in, and the bartender slid a napkin towards her.

The bartender, an older woman with a friendly smile, approached Y/N with a small slip of paper. "A man told me to give this to you and buy you a drink as well," she said, gesturing towards the note. Y/N's curiosity was piqued as she took the slip of paper, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she read the few words scrawled on it. "Seems like you got a secret admirer," the bartender remarked with a chuckle, noticing Y/N's puzzled expression.

meet me upstairs @ 11.

Y/N's mind wandered briefly, “I'll make you that other drink, dear.” The older woman took her glass, chucking momentarily, “Seems like a good one to me.” Y/N smiled, holding the napkin, waiting for the drink this mysterious man bought for her. Her eyes scanned around her, her thoughts making her blush.

She hoped and leaned towards it being Joel, but she had not even seen him at the party. Maybe he decided not to come? I mean he did not owe her to come, Joel barley liked her parents. Y/N glanced down at her watch, in been couple hours since the party had started.

10:42PM

Y/N's heart raced as she contemplated whether or not to meet the mysterious man waiting for her upstairs. The exclusive parties had strict security measures in place, but she was confident that she could slip past unnoticed. Only she and her parents had unrestricted access to the upper floors, yet this stranger had somehow found a way to reach her. The thrill of the unknown pulsed through her veins as she considered the possibilities.

11:01PM

Y/N walked anxiously down the hallway, having convinced the security to leave her alone by pretending to retreat to her bedroom. She paced back and forth, biting her nails as she waited for someone to emerge from around the corner. Eventually, she heard footsteps growing closer and stopped, anticipating the stranger's arrival.

The anticipation built up inside her as the footsteps drew closer. Y/N's eyes were glued to the man dressed in all black, with a crisp white shirt tucked into his tight pants. Even before locking eyes with him, Y/N knew exactly who it was. He leaned against the wall with a lit cigarette hanging off his lips, his free hand casually tucked into his pocket. He observed the young woman standing before him, and the air was charged with excitement and tension.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Y/N faked her confidence; her mother always said, ‘Fake it til you make it.’ The woman's eyes scanned over him. She felt like she could undress him with her eyes. The cigarette on his lips made him hotter in that suit he wore. She never thought she'd see Joel Miller wear a suit. But, God did he look good in that suit. Y/N eyes met back up with his, puffing out smoke.

“Y’know, we have a no smoking rule.” Y/N teased, walking closer to him. Joel stayed in place, not moving an inch, letting her draw closer to him. When meeting up with him, she grabbed the cigarette from his mouth. Standing on her tiptoes to reach his height, he smirked, watching down at her. Y/N brought it to her lips, slightly puffing, blowing a small cloud. Joel’s face twitched, his hands wrapped around her throat, pushing her against the wall behind her.

“You just broke one of the rules,” Joel growled, the tension angering him more. His nose pressed against her cheek, his hand gripping her throat. Y/N whimpered; her eyes stayed closed, listening to his voice. “I've broken a lot of rules, Joel,” Y/N admitted; she breathed out, fighting the grip he had around her throat. Joel still pressed against her, and Y/N felt his member grow pressed against her, “Guess you'll have to punish me.”

Joel groaned out, grabbing her face and forcing Y/N to look at him. Her cheeks squished underneath his rough hands. Y/N felt her underwear grow wet, her thighs wanting to rub together. She craved this older man for so long, Y/N moaned out, melted underneath his touch. “Where's your room, baby?” Y/N’s legs could go weak by his words, and she could only point. He was quick to have her off the floor, wrapped around him, pushing her into her room, slamming her against the door that slammed it shut.

His kiss was rough and hungry against her lips.

Joel’s cock strained against his already tight pants as he stood amazed by her. Trailing kisses down her exposed chest, his hands sneaking up her dress. He swallowed as Y/N held on to the door behind her. Y/N arched her back, moaning out, digging her hands into his hair. Her hands messed up his hair, and the mirror attached to the door was becoming stained with fingerprints.

“Didn’t think you’d be into an old man like me,” he said with a chuckle. Joel pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, making her gasp. He moved them to the nearest wall, having them perfectly angled to the mirror that he just had her pressed against. Y/N unbuttoned his shirt. His hands unzipped to move her dress off of her.

“You're not old, Joel,” Y/N assured him, sending him a surge of confidence, “Besides, I like older guys.” Joel chuckled at her comment, turning her back to face him. Her face pressed against the wall; she glanced up at the mirror.

She looked rough.

Her hair was a mess, and her cheeks were stained red. Y/N dress was now on her bedroom floor, Joel fighting with his belt and with his other free hand using it to have it wrapped around her throat. Pressing her against his own body, she moaned out, feeling his bare, warm body. Y/N pushed back on him, feeling his tip tease her entrance.

His laugh was dark; Joel gripped her chin, turning her to make herself look in the mirror once more. “Look at how pretty you are,” Joel murmured, his southern accent thicker as he thrust into her without warning. Y/N felt herself stretch open, watching them in the mirror beside them as she gripped the wall she was against.

“You’re just daddy’s slut aren’t you.” Joel gripped her throat tighter, which turned her on even more. He slapped her ass, causing her to whimper out, “Better be quiet; don't want your family to figure out how much of a slut you are.”

Y/N’s breaths were heavy, his free fingers strumming over the swollen bump of her clit, pulling moans from her throat. A smirk grew on his face at her desperate expression. His breathing matched hers as his thrusts got sloppier. Y/N’s body was tense, her hands falling behind him, pulling on his curls. “Relax, sweetheart.” Joel’s big hand slid up and down her curved spine.

Their bodies became sweaty, sticking together Y/N could feel herself get closer as he sped up on her clit. She could hardly breathe, she had never taken a cock this big, but she was too impatient to wait for him to stretch her out on his fingers. Y/N was whining and moaning as his hands clenched against her throat, keeping her looking in the mirror.

“You're mine; I'll be whatever you want me to be, baby,” Joel groaned, moaning out in pleasure himself, “Hell, I'll be your sugar daddy.” Y/N felt sweat drip down her forehead, letting out a laugh croaking out with a moan behind it. Her hand rested on his shoulders, feeling that familiar feeling grows in her stomach.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart,” Joel said, his voice muffled as his mouth pressed against her neck. Each thrust coaxed a gasp from her; she had her nails digging into the fabric of the wall. Y/N’s vision was blurry from the overwhelming tears brimming her eyes. “Come around, my cock,” Joel commanded, his words making everything intensify.

“Oh god, Daddy,” she gasped, shaking head to toe. “Joel, I’m—yes, yes, yes-.” Joel was not far behind her, her eyes watching him cum inside her. Joel's lips drug down her cheek, releasing his load into her.

Tears stained her cheeks as he turned her to face him, wiping them away. “That's the only time you need to cry, my girl.” Joel kissed the top of her forehead, clearly out of breath, still holding her up. Her legs were like jello getting over to her bed, cuddling beside Joel underneath the thick sheets.

“My parents would kill you if they figured this out.” Y/N laughed out, which warmed his chest as she laid there. His arms wrapped around her, running his fingers through her hair, sharing a laugh.

“Be glad I don't kill your parents for makin’ you cry like that.” Y/N knew Joel knew that day she had cried. She locked eyes with him briefly, and he tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. Y/N still rested on his chest, her nails gently rubbing up and down.

“Guess I got my Secret admirer to take care of me.”

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