This Was So Good! Absolutely Love How You Gave Us The Beginnings Of Dieter Bravo!

This was so good! Absolutely love how you gave us the beginnings of Dieter Bravo! 😍

Making Out to Pablo Honey (virgin!Dieter Bravo x f!reader)

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

pairing: virgin!Dieter Bravo x f!reader

rating: E MDNI

summary: Dieter’s always tried to be cool. The thing about being cool, though, the more he tries, the less it works. You, on the other hand, you’re cool.

contents: virgin!Dieter, young!Dieter, lots of 90s references, cannabis, mentions of masturbation, fingering, premature ejaculating, one ferris bueller reference, reader is able bodied and not described physically moth never uses y/n.

This fic is about horny teens doing horny teen things. It's not too late to not read this if that's not ok with you.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: I'm thinking of this as a Dieter origin story. I really enjoyed thinking about him before he was the DIETER BRAVO. Anyway, this was kind of healing I wish I knew him back when I was in high school. Thanks @moonlitbirdie and @whocaresstillthelouvre for betaing and cheering me on!

“Sweet or salty?” you ask. Your head is buried in one of the kitchen cabinets, rummaging through a selection of snacks. 

Dieter sits on the counter opposite, watching you with a lazy smile. 

“Sweet,” he says. “No, wait. Salty.”

You look at him over your shoulder, your eyes bloodshot under heavy lids. 

“You’re so stoned,” you giggle. 

Dieter blushes. Despite the fact that he coughs after every hit, getting high with you after school has become his favorite past time. You never tease him for it, just put the joint between your lips while Dieter wonders if you can feel the warmth from his there. You’re both well and truly blazed at this point after smoking up in the dugout of the school's baseball field.

Dieter gazes over your body as you stand on tip toe, reaching for the top shelf. It’s like he can’t control his eyes from wandering to you when he’s like this. Sometimes you notice. 

“What?” you’ll say. “You’re staring at me.”

“You’re paranoid,” he’ll lie. 

He wishes he was brave enough to tell you that he’s staring because he thinks you’re beautiful. 

It’s hard to believe that the two of you are actually friends now. He still remembers when you were assigned as his lab partner, a girl that he was equally drawn to and intimidated by.  

Now he’s in your house after school almost every day. 

“Honey?” your mother’s voice calls from the front door.

“Shit.” Dieter hops onto the floor before she enters the kitchen in a smart business outfit. 

“Oh, hi, Dieter,” she says, smoothing the bottom of her hair. 

“Hello, ma’am,” Dieter says. 

You stifle a laugh. 

“Dieter, you don’t have to call me ma’am,” your mother says.  

“Um okay,” he replies. He can’t remember her first name. She’s told him before. Does he seem stoned? Oh, god, he definitely does. 

She scrunches her nose.

“What’s that smell?” she asks.

Dieter’s stomach plummets. The two of you must reek of pot. He’s grown to like the scent– an earthy tang that now reminds him of you. He braces himself, trying to clear his foggy mind for a moment so he can’t act sober. 

“Somebody must’ve run over a skunk,” you say. “What’re you doing home so early?”

You change the subject so seamlessly. Of course. Nothing ever seems to scare you.

“I’ve got a meeting with the Vermont people but I left the damn file here,” she says, picking a folder up from the kitchen table. “I’ll be back late if we close the deal.”

“Good luck,” you say.

Dieter bursts with laughter as your mother goes out the front door. You join him, nearly doubling over with your giggles. 

“I was freaking out!” he tells you. “A skunk! I can’t believe she bought that.”

“I know, right? She’s clueless,” you chuckle. “Look.” 

You hold up your creation— a plate bursting with flavor and texture. It’s organized into little piles of treats— potato chips, Oreos, a handful of glistening strawberries. Chocolate covered pretzels rest beside dried cranberries and several ropes of licorice separate honey roasted peanuts from fun sized Kit Kats in glossy red wrappers. It’s a feast, every bite he could ever want just when he wants it the most. 

“Fuck,” he whispers as he takes in this offering. 

Maybe it’s the pot buzzing around in his head but he can feel himself falling head over heels for you. He wants to kiss you but what if you don’t want to be kissed? What if you reject him? He could play it off as a joke like the one he told in the biology lab that got you to notice him for the first time. Humiliation he can handle but he’s not sure he could take that heartbreak. 

The cookies are calling his name so he abandons any dreams of filling his mouth with your tongue in favor of a Nutter Butter. 

There’s a big, L shaped couch in the basement that Dieter sprawls out on while he munches on the fruit. They might be the best strawberries he’s ever eaten. Everything tastes so good when he’s high. He wonders what you taste like. 

“Do you like Radiohead?” you ask sorting through a pile of cassettes. 

“Yeah. I love them,” he says. He’s only heard one of their songs on the radio but if you like them, he wants to like them, too. 

Dieter’s always tried to be cool. He has a lot working against him— built like a string bean, a goofy personality. His own fucking name has betrayed him. He got the same haircut as Leonardo DiCaprio, he saved up to buy a pair of fancy sneakers, he spends hours in the mirror carefully choosing his outfits. The thing about being cool, though, the more he tries, the less it works. 

You, on the other hand, you’re cool. Effortlessly so in your black boots and chipped nail polish. It’s not just the music you listen to or the clothes you wear. There’s something in your attitude, an aloof confidence that he’s never been able to replicate. 

Despite his anxieties, you never make him feel judged. It seems like you enjoy introducing him to new things. You offered to make him a mixtape and it sent his heart fluttering. He’s shared a thing or two with you, too— leading you through the aisles of the local video store handing you his favorite obscure movies. Sometimes you laugh at his enthusiasm but it’s never mean spirited. 

You pop the tape in and climb up onto the sofa as rough guitar strums seep through the speakers. There’s something psychedelic in the music that has Dieter sinking deeper into his seat. 

Although there’s plenty of space, you sit alongside him, propping your feet up on the chaise beside his. Dieter’s pulse picks up. He’s so aware of you so close to him, each move of your muscles as you get comfortable. He can smell the pot tangled up in your hair and the fresh scent of cotton that always lingers on your clothes. 

“I like being high,” Dieter sighs. 

You laugh. He fucking loves the sound of it, wants to be a little clown to keep you giggling away.

“Give me a Kit Kat,” you say. 

The snack plate is balanced on Dieter’s lap so when you fish through it for the candy, he can feel the pressure of your touch right on his dick. He stifles a groan, trying to focus his attention on the crinkle of the wrapper in your hands. 

He’s touched himself to the thought of you more times than he’d like to admit. There was an incident when you unexpectedly brushed your ass against him at your locker and he popped a boner. He had to take care of it in the bathroom, one hand cupping the tip of his cock as he came so he didn’t make a mess. 

“Dieter,” you say. His name sounds so sweet when you say it softly like that. 

“Yeah,” he replies. 

Some time in the last fifteen minutes, his mind wandered away and he got lost in the haze of his high. He can’t remember what he was thinking about before you got his attention or how long he’s been out of it. There’s just a warm feeling in his head and every once in a while he remembers that you’re sitting right next to him and he smiles to himself and then he floats away again. 

“You’re staring at me,” you say. 

You’re close, laying on the same couch cushion, your face just inches from his own. You have pretty eyes. Maybe that’s what he’s been looking at. Or your hair. He likes your hair. 

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. There’s no denying it this time. 

Your lips curl into a smile and your eyes dance over his features. He feels himself leaning towards you like his head is too heavy to fight your magnetic pull. 

Your noses brush, that’s when he realizes that you’re moving towards him, too. Both of you hesitate there, an acknowledgement of this point of no return— your friendship will never be the same. 

You kiss him. At first it’s a cautious meeting of lips and, suddenly, a crash of passion and excitement. It’s sloppy and unchoreographed but the two of you find a rhythm. He can taste the chocolate in your kiss. 

You climb onto his lap, sliding your hands beneath his shirt. Having all of you there, straddling him like he’s in his own wet dream, is overwhelming. Blood rushes to his cock. There’s so much of you to explore— soft places to touch and hold and taste. He wants all of you all at once and you seem just as eager. 

Your mouth roams his neck and teeth rake against his earlobe as you rock over the bulge in his jeans. He’s so sensitive from the weed, he can practically feel the hot drag of your pussy even through the layers between you. 

Dieter fumbles with the clasp of your bra and you knock his hands away to do it for him, then unbutton your pants and do the same for him. He keeps his mouth on yours as you pull off his shirt with eager kisses. 

He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties. He’s met with the slick lips of your pussy giving him a delicious shiver. You gasp and sink your teeth into his bottom lip. 

Now your hand finds him, coating his length with precum and tugging. 

“Oh god,” he chokes. He wills himself not to finish right there in your hand. 

Dieter presses a finger into your entrance, slow and cautious, watching your expression for any signs of discomfort. You’re so tight, he can’t imagine the crush of it around him. The strokes on his cock stutter and slow as he thrusts deeper until eventually your limp hand simply holds him. He doesn’t care.  The feeling of you is addicting, all slippery and inviting. 

“Ow,” you complain. 

“Is this ok?” Dieter asks. 

“Don’t just finger me,” you complain. 

He blanches, unsure of how to correct himself. If you want more, he’s more than willing to give it to you but it has nerves churning in his belly. 

“I’ve never done it,” Dieter says. 

He immediately wishes he could take the words and swallow them back down. His neck burns with embarrassment. The coolest girl he’s ever met is letting him in her pants and he just spoiled it all by admitting he’s a virgin. 

You stare at him with big, round eyes, your lips swollen from kissing. Your adam’s apple bobs in your throat. 

“Me either,” you tell him. 

It’s Dieter’s turn to stare. He’s shocked. It seems like you’ve done everything already. At least, everything a high school senior would aspire to do. 

If you were embarrassed to tell him that, you don’t let it linger for long. “That wasn’t what I meant,” you say. “It just— I don't think I can come that way.”

Dieter nods in awe. This isn’t the first time he’s gone to third base but he hadn’t felt very sure of his technique during those few encounters. You look a little nervous, maybe for the first time ever, but he’s so impressed you’re confident enough to tell him what you want, to even know. He wants to give you exactly what you need. 

“Show me,” he says. “Show me what you like.”

Your pupils blow out and Dieter’s not sure which one of you is more aroused. Eventually you regain yourself, nodding quickly and climbing off of his lap so you can shimmy your pants all the way off. 

Dieter can’t help but stare at all the parts of you that are exposed. You’re so pretty he can hardly believe he gets to touch you. His cock throbs at the sight and he fists himself before realizing that he’d better stop if he wants to last more than half a minute. 

You lay back on the couch, parting your bent legs for Dieter. He sits up for a good view as you explain the secrets of the universe. You take his hand and guide his fingers to your pussy, carefully sliding them along the side of your clit. It’s velvety soft and warm and slick and you take in a sharp breath. His cock jumps. Again, a wet stroke over you. You set a pace, your hand around his as he makes you melt.

“Woah,” he whispers to himself as he watches your body respond. 

He’s not sure where to look; at the glistening lips of your pussy, a rare glimpse at the opposite sex in real life or at your face, eyes closed and brow knit as you float in ecstasy. It’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.

He forgets the throbbing between his own legs, entranced by your pleasure. Your grip around his hand slackens and Dieter experiments with slightly faster strokes, kissing your neck. Your pulse thrums under his lips, your whines vibrating. 

As he gathers more slick from your entrance, you grind your clit into the heel of his hand. Your hips lift from the wet patch that’s growing beneath you. Dieter keeps his hand planted on you, giving you all the friction you need. 

He tries to find a way to tell you to use him, to take what you need, but he’s speechless. Watching a girl get off on him, and not just any girl but you, feels like witnessing a miracle. 

Your muscles tighten, every single tendon in your body wrapped up like a rubber band about to snap. He can’t help himself. Dieter slides a finger inside of you. It feels even better than before, now that your walls are coated in that sweet release. 

That’s when it crashes over you. You lock up, your arms and thighs straining. He can feel your core tensing around him desperately and he thinks he might cum just from the sight of you like this. It’s not like he’s seen in porn. You’re quiet, focused, somewhere else and he wants to go there, wherever that planet of pleasure might be. 

He wants to kiss you, to taste your release and bury his face in your tits but he doesn’t dare move and ruin this exquisite moment for you. So he keeps moving with the same steady tempo as you flutter around him. 

You groan out his name, long and slow and it sounds like music. 

Dieter feels his hips jerk and, oh fuck, he’s cumming. He tears his hand away from you to squeeze it over his spasming cock. It’s too late and the wet press of you coated on his fingers doesn’t help. He paints his torso with his own warm, sticky spend. 

You stare, eyes wildly surveying the mess on his belly, still dazed as you come down. 

He should be mortified that he just blew his load all over himself the very first time he’s gotten physical with you but his veins are coursing with bliss. His head falls back, chest heaving as he catches his breath. 

“I really like you,” he says. 

Your face breaks out in a smile and you bashfully bite your lip. He feels your fingers intertwine with his own. 

“Yeah. I like you too,” you say. 

-

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and my asks are always open!

I’m glad you liked it! 😍❤️

Happy to be of Dave brainrot service 🫡

Lies, Excuses and Bullshit

Pairing: Exboyfriend!Dave York x f!Reader

Summary: A man with a double life willing to do anything to keep his obsession around, and a woman who doesn't know what she's gotten herself into.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, go on get! Breaking up, creepy!Dave, infidelity, stalker behavior from Dave, oral(f receiving), spanking, unprotected PIV(make smarter choices), manipulation, and if there is anything I missed please let me know!

A/N: Phew, not sure what happened here. This is a first, I don't usually write darker stuff but something about Dave made it just fly out of my finger tips. This was written for @punkshort's AU August Challenge! Thank you Shortie for letting me be part of the challenge 😊 I need to shout out @beefrobeefcal @strang3lov3 @ozarkthedog and @mothandpidgeon thank you all for the encouragement and lending your eyeballs for this story! ❤️

@jay-zzle, my love, my bestie. This one is for you! 🥰❤️🥰❤️

Masterlist||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

You thought things were fine. Dave is the perfect gentleman. It is a complete shock to see this text from your friend. It was a picture of Dave with another woman and two little girls at a soccer game. Maybe it’s his niece's soccer game and he’s just there being a good uncle? Until the next text comes in.

Isn’t that your boyfriend?

Another picture is attached featuring Dave, his arm around the woman. Then another and another and another. More evidence to suggest he is obviously in a relationship with the woman and you are the one left in the dark on this whole situation.

You stopped responding to your friend a while ago, staring at the pictures they sent. Back and forth, memorizing every detail. The way he’s looking at her. The way his arm is around her. The way he’s touching her. The way he kissed her -  that was the one that sealed your fate of knowing you had in fact not been seeing a recently divorced man but a married one. Your phone buzzes with another text notification.

D. York: Hey baby, still picking you up at 9 right?

You glare at your phone unsure of what the next step is. Obviously he is cheating on his wife unbeknownst to you. How does somebody even handle something like this? You really liked Dave, you saw a future with him. Your relationship has been going on for months now.

After neglecting to respond your phone buzzes again with another text from the man himself.

D. York: Been thinking about you 

You roll your eyes and text him back.

You: Not tonight. Don’t feel good.

D. York: Aw you poor thing. Do you need anything?

You didn’t even have the energy to respond with this new found information rattling around your brain, pressing the button to make your phone sleep and making your way to your bedroom. You plugged your phone in and crawled into bed, ignoring the constant buzz against your nightstand as you tried to drift off. The sun was still out but you couldn’t be awake right now. You needed to shut your brain off and this was the only way you knew how.

There was a pounding on your door when you woke with a startle. The moon casting shadows through the curtains into your room. You checked your phone, seeing the multiple notifications, some from your friends and some from Dave. He’d also tried calling several different times.

D. York: Are you okay?

Did you talk to him yet?

D. York: Do you want some company?

Want me to kick his ass?

D. York: How are you feeling?

What do you plan to say?

D. York: Baby, please answer me. Getting a little worried here.

The pounding on your door continued as you checked your phone. The doorbell camera he insisted on getting for you and installed showed Dave at your doorstep holding a plastic bag, grumbling, you got out of bed and walked towards the door.

“I’m coming. Give it a rest,” you shout, hoping Dave can hear you over his loud knocks.

Sliding the chain lock you open the door.

“Baby,” Dave sighs with relief, “What have you been doing? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours now!”

“I told you, I don’t feel good,” you shrug, “I’ve been sleeping.”

“I’m sorry to wake you, I started to get worried,” Dave says, looking around your living room, “I got you some stuff to hopefully help with whatever bug you’ve seemed to catch.”

You watch as he carefully steps into your space, placing the bag on the coffee table in front of your couch.

“Dave,” you sigh, “I know.”

“Know what?” Dave asks, hands on his hips and shaking his head with a smirk.

“I know you’re still married.”

You see his adam's apple bob as he swallows, flopping back onto the couch, and clasping his hands together. He stays silent for a moment, contemplating what to say next.

“How’d you find out?”

Your eyes widen, not expecting him to fold so easily. 

“A friend sent me some photos from today at the soccer field,” you murmur, trying to keep the wavering in your voice to a minimum.

“I see,” Dave says with a nod.

“You also have kids?”

Dave nods again, facing you this time.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Dave scoffs, “Sleep with you?”

“I wouldn’t just call what we’ve been doing as ‘sleeping together,’ Dave,” you say, using your fingers as air quotes when the words sleeping together leave your mouth.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Dave chuckles, “I get bored from time to time and like to play with someone new.”

“Your wife know that?” you ask, glaring at him. This man who you thought you knew is showing an entirely different side of himself, and you don’t like it.

“She doesn’t need to know because it’s not a big deal.” Dave sighs exasperated.

“I think it’s best if you left.”

“Alright,” Dave says standing, “If that’s what you want.”

“Yep,” you say with a sharp nod.

“Listen,” Dave says, reaching a hand towards your arm, and you slid your arm back letting him know not to touch you, and he put his hand down beside him, “Okay, well, it’s really not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be. I like you, I like what we’ve been–”

“Dave, you’re cheating on your wife,” you grit through your teeth interrupting the spiel he was going on, and swung the door open for him, “Leave.”

—

“Fucking take it.” Dave growls in your ear, thrusting his hips harshly into you, “Just like that baby.”

Your moans fill his ears, he can tell you’re close. The way your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him tighter. He can practically taste your climax in the air around him, gripping your hips tighter and angling them so he can get deeper.

“Dave,” you sob, after a particularly harsh thrust. Fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, back arching as you continue to cry out his name.

Dave. Dave. Dave.

“David!”

Dave jumps to the sound of Carol’s voice. Looking around to see he’s in his own bed in his home, not yours.

“Honey, your alarm has been going off for 10 minutes now.”

He lets out a sigh facing his reality, adjusting the hardness in his pajama bottoms. It was just a dream. It’s been months since he’s seen you. You’ve seemed to make your way into his brain at all times of the day, conscious or not.

“I’m gonna get the girls ready but you don’t need to be late for work again,” Carol says, giving him a smile and wink. After last night, he’s not sure how much longer he can do this. He’s been trying to have sex with Carol more. Sure, she’s his wife but she doesn’t scratch the same itch you did.

He’s tried. He’s tried to be a good husband, he’s tried to be a good dad and he’s exhausted. Dave feels himself becoming more of a shell since you told him to leave.

You’ve made it abundantly clear you want nothing to do with him. He tried to reach out to you, only to have his number blocked. You disabled your doorbell camera after he left that night. You must have known he’d try and look at it on his phone, you knew he had the information for your account. Why wouldn’t he try to look?

What you don’t know is that once Carol takes the girls to school, he gets the second phone hidden in the false bottom of a shoe box in his closet that is an exact copy of your own. He can see who you’re texting, where you’re at, how things at work are going, who you’re hanging out with. It’s become an obsession to check it daily.

—

As he steps out of the shower, Carol shouts up the stairs that she’s leaving with the girls, and the front door closes shortly after. Time to start his day.

Getting dressed in his running gear and snatching his headphones from the dresser. He makes his way to the closet. Finding the shoe box with your duplicated phone.

Texts from your friends, a text from your boss and a missed call from your mom. What catches his eye the most is the notification from some jackass on Tinder. James. Scanning James’ profile he’s definitely not your type: blonde hair, green eyes, gelled back hair, and a full beard.

James, 29

Looking for a girl who just wants to have some fun, if it leads to more that’s cool too. I like hiking, graduated from Harvard, hanging with my bros, anything else hmu

Dave shakes his head as he reads the messages shared between the two of you. He scans reading hellos, good nights, sharing random facts about each other, until he stumbles upon the most recent messages

James: Hello gorgeous 😉

Hello 😊

James: So I’ve been thinking would you wanna meet up? Go get a drink or something?

Sure! 7 good?

James: Awesome! Yeah. Do you know where Sal’s is?

I do! It’s not far from my job

James: Perfect! I’ll see ya then beautiful

No. No way in hell is this James guy meeting up with you. Dave calls the office letting them know he’s taking a personal day, he has some business to take care of.

—

Sal’s is exactly what you expected it to be. Dark, dingey, and small. Not too crowded thankfully, it’s definitely got character though. The random decor on the wall is confusing. You can’t tell if this is supposed to be a sports or a punk bar with the random band posters on the wall along with sports jerseys next to them.

Making your way to the bar you sit down on a stool, flagging down the bartender.

“What’s your poison for the night?” He asks, wiping his hands on the towel he was carrying.

“Jack and Coke,” you say, slipping your hand into your bag to get your wallet out. He makes quick work of mixing the drink and placing it in front of you, handing over your card while you hear the jingle of the door.

“Starting a tab?” The bartender asks, swiping your card.

“No, thank you,” you smile as he hands your card back to you, putting it back in your wallet.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see someone standing a couple stools away. Looking down at your drink, moving the straw around before taking a drink. You take a peek at your watch to see it’s 10 minutes before you’re supposed to meet James. 

Maybe this was a bad idea, you haven’t had to do this in months. It was easier when Dave just kind of fell into your life.

“Whiskey on the rocks.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up when you heard the familiar timber of his voice, head snapping to look at him. Dave. His smirk as he waits on his drink says it all, he knew you would be here. Was he James?

“Are you fucking serious?” You hiss through your teeth.

Dave thanks the bartender, moving closer to you.

“I come in peace,” Dave says, sitting in the stool one away from you, “All I want to do is talk.”

“Are you James?” You ask through clenched teeth, glaring at him.

“Oh baby,” Dave tuts, “I’m not James, he’s very real.”

You continue to glare at him. Unable to force your brain to work with your limbs on moving, leaving, throwing your drink on him. Anything other than sitting here being in his presence.

“He wasn’t hard to convince to leave you alone though,” Dave looks at you with a smirk, one eyebrow raised and begins to chuckle, “One mention of snapping any finger that touches you sent him running.”

You try to swallow but your throat feels like a desert, gripping the tumbler in front of you and taking a swig. Did he… did he do something to James? Surely not, Dave wouldn’t even kill the spider that appeared in your apartment one day, scooped it up and took it outside. How could he cause harm to anything?

“Dave did you…” pausing pondering how to even ask the question.

“Did I hurt him?” Dave asks, scooting to the stool next to you and leaning in closer, invading your space and you nod your head, “No, just made it known what’s mine.”

You let out a sharp gasp at his words, arousal seeping into the gusset of your underwear, thighs clenching together at his closeness, feeling goosebumps erupt across your skin. This shouldn’t be happening but your body thinks otherwise.

“I’ve missed you baby,” Dave hums into your ear, “Don’t like how we ended things.”

The way he says it has the ice around your heart melting. You hate him but can’t help the way your heart betrays your brain at his words. Dave lets out a small growl, gripping your bare thigh beneath the bar top possessively.

“I’m staying in a hotel room tonight,” he says, the grip on your thigh becoming less and smoothing his hand against your inner thigh. Gliding his hand up, up, up. Pinky finger playing with the edge of your underwear under your skirt.

You grab his hand and pull it away from your core, bringing it to rest on your lap. Lacing your fingers with his, while his thumb rubs along your palm. You sigh, contemplating what to do. Go with him or send him packing like last time. The devil on your shoulder telling you to go with him, it’s just stress relief, it won’t- it can’t mean anything, he knows your body better than anyone else. The angel on the other side just repeating the same words, he’s still married.

In the words of your mother, if he doesn’t cheat with you then he’ll just find someone else. Might as well have fun.

“I’ve missed you too,” you confess with a soft whimper in his ear. Finally seeing him again after months of nothing has your practical sense crumbling. 

“Let’s go then,” Dave smirks, standing pulling your hand slightly to stand with him and leave.

—

Dave drove like a bat out of hell to the hotel, dragged you to the elevator and his room as if this was his last chance to have you. Clothes flying off the moment you crossed the threshold of the room.

“Dave,” you moan, his lips ghosting down your neck to your collarbone. His hands grip your ass, pulling you flush against his front, feeling his erection against your stomach.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he groans, his mouth sucking the flesh of your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth and giving it a nip. A whine escapes past your lips at the sudden pressure of his teeth, moving your body with him until you feel the back of your knees hit the bed.

Dave releases your nipple, pushing himself against you to lay back on the bed, making room for himself between your thighs. His dark eyes swimming with lust study your face. His hand comes to rest on your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.

“Why’d you let me leave like that?” His voice barely a whisper, lying his forehead against your own.

“You’re married,” you wince hearing the words leave your throat. You shouldn’t be doing this.

“I can change that,” he smirks with a chuckle, kissing the corner of your mouth, “I’d leave if it meant you’d stay,” kissing your jaw, “I’d spend every single day of my life making you happy,” he coos, trailing his lips down to your neck, laving his tongue against your pulse point.

“Dave,” you plead, hoping to stop his words. You don’t want to hear this, it’s all lies to get you to stay. The ache between your thighs begging for more.

“Mean it baby,” Dave says with a hum, mouth traveling down the expanse of your body, “Only want you,” he breathes when his face inches away from your sex, “Looks like you want me too,” he teases.

You feel the warmth spreading through your body as he sighs using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, staring at your glistening slit.

“Oh yeah, she’s definitely missed me,” he hums, flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Dave,” you gasp, gripping the sheets between your fingers. He works his tongue along your bundle of nerves swirling and sucking.

“God I’ve missed this pussy,” Dave growls, gripping your hips tightly before fucking you with his tongue.

“Fuck,” you moan, back arching off the bed. The fire in your abdomen grows more intense. You reach for one of his hands, linking your fingers with his. His other hand moving, fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please,” you beg, “Dave, pl- please. More, I- I need m-“, you cry out when his fingers plunge into your cunt. Swiftly curling them inside you as he moves the pads of his fingers back and forth putting delicious pressure against your g-spot.

“That’s it baby,” Dave groans, nipping your inner thigh, “Let me have it.”

Your toes curl feeling the coil in your lower belly tightening, leaning your head up to watch him. He looks as wrecked as you feel as he rapidly flits his tongue against your clit. His brows furrowed in concentration as he worked his mouth and fingers in sync for you to reach your climax, his lips shiny from your arousal. He opens his eyes to see your mouth hung open in a silent scream, brows pinched together as you pant looking into his eyes.

“Dave,” you pant, “Baby, I’m gonna come.”

Your walls clamp down on his fingers as you stare into his dark orbs. White hot heat spreads throughout your body, letting out a soft shriek.

“Flip over,” Dave instructs, moving your pliable limbs so you’re on your stomach. You cry out as he pushes his cock into you sharply.

“Fuck.”

“Shhh,” Dave tuts, “It’s okay baby, you can take it.”

You whine, it feels like he’s splitting you in two, walls gripping his length. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust before he’s roughly snapping his hips into you.

“Make you mine again,” Dave grunts, “No one else deserves you.”

The pain quickly turns into pleasure as he works his cock in and out. The sound of your squelching pussy filling your ears as strangled noises crawl up your throat.

“God damn baby,” Dave hisses, tilting your hips up as he grinds his hips into you, hitting that spot deep inside only he’s been able to reach.

“Missed this so,” he grunts, slapping your ass, “Fucking,” another slap against your skin, “Much,” another harsh slap before soothing the marks he’s left with his palm.

“Dave,” you let out a choked sob, feeling the pleasure building, thrusting your hips back into him, “Faster.”

“Dirty girl,” Dave hums, gripping your hips again, pounding into your pussy at a frantic pace, “You gonna- oh fuck- come again?”

You can only nod your head weakly, feeling the sizzling pressure in your abdomen start to boil over. Your walls spasming and contracting around his cock. The muscles in your legs tensing before screaming out.

“Oh fuck,” Dave moans, “That’s it baby. Come on my cock. Just like that.”

Dave leans over caging you between his arms, thrusting into your wet heat a half a dozen times before his hips start to lose rhythm and going still, your name tumbling from his lips, letting your walls milk his cock feeling the warmth of his seed paint your walls.

“I really have missed you,” Dave admits slumping against you with a sigh, “So fucking much.”

He kisses your shoulder before pulling out with a hiss. You groan feeling the emptiness before he helps you up, guiding you to the bathroom.

You shower together, taking time to wash each other with delicate touches, and sharing intimate kisses before crawling back into bed with his arms wrapped around you.

You wake sometime in the middle of the night. Dave’s snoring beside you, finding your phone amongst your belongings scattered around the room, you make your way to the bathroom. Looking at Dave sleeping so peacefully from the doorway of the bathroom you can’t help feeling torn. You loved him, still do if you’re being honest with yourself, but this isn’t what you two should be doing.

You find an uber available and schedule to be picked up. Quietly making your way out of the bathroom and grabbing your things when you hear two identical dings. One from your hand and one from Dave’s bag. Slipping your clothes back on you slowly wander over to his things. Rummaging around until you find a phone, similar to yours. Pushing the button on the side you see a notification for an Uber 5 minutes away, looking at your own phone to see it displaying the same.

“What the fuck?” You whisper to yourself, head snapping to look at Dave hoping you didn’t wake him. You look around to find a pen and piece of paper.

—

Dave wakes the next morning with a smile, remembering what happened last night. Sliding his hand to where you should be, feeling the cool sheets under his palm, peeking an eye open to see the empty spot next to him.

He listens closely to his surroundings, hoping to hear the shower but is met only with silence. Frowning as he sits up, scrubbing his hands against his face trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. Looking around the room for any sign of you, taking note of your things being gone.

He sees a folded piece of paper lying on top of something on the dresser. Dave gets up to inspect what it is. His name is on the paper, sitting on top of two phones. Immediately recognizing one as yours and the other the duplicate he had made. His eyes scan the note you left, unable to believe what he was reading.

You’ll never be anything but a lying, cheating, manipulative douchebag. Figure your shit out. Don’t ever reach out to me again.

Dave’s hand curls into a fist as he reads the note over and over again. You left. You really left and this time it’s going to be even harder to find you.

He smirks, shaking his head as he collapses on the edge of the bed. You must not realize how much he loves a challenge.

Every single one of these 🫠🫠🫠

I just… I have no words! AMAZING!

Little Dove - A Series

(Joel Miller x female!reader)

18+

Series Summary: After sending both your daughters off to college, you and Joel find yourself to be empty nesters in your early 40’s. However, all that alone time has it’s perks, most of which are kinky.

TW: reach each chapters for specific warnings. 18+

A/N: The love I received from the first story has sent my brain into high gear. I have zero timeline for these stories and they may not come out in the order listed below. The story summaries could change as I write. 🙏🏻 please let me know which you’re most excited for or if you want to be tagged 🙏🏻

🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍

You’re Mine, Little Dove

A walk at night starts with ropes, blindfolds, and ends with the best orgasms of your life, and an even better twist at the end.

Kink: Predator/Prey

Stay Still, Little Dove

Joel reminds you that his wishes are your commands during an interesting bet between you two.

Kink: Vibrator Torture, Pleasure Dom

Taste Her, Little Dove

Joel watches as you explore a new side of yourself.

You’re a Brat, Little Dove

At your 25-year high school reunion, an old classmates is enamoured with your partner; you can’t say that you blame her, but it sparks enough jealousy for you to decide to get Joel’s attention.

Kink: Brat Tamer, Spanking, Dom/Sub

Do Your Worst, Little Dove

Joel gets a taste of his own medicine.

Kink: Role reversal, domme/sub

You're Perfect, Little Dove

Insecurities from the past send you spiralling in a way that only Joel can fix.

Kink: Praise, Pleasure Dom

Touch Yourself, Little Dove

Joel discovers how much he likes to watch.

Kink: Voyeurism

Additional Materials

Thank You @survivingandenduring for this GORGEOUS edit of Joel and his Little Dove.

That he is 🫠 Right… although I already kinda want to revisit these two 👀 maybe Dave does in fact find her again.

Thank you so much for helping and encouraging me on this one! ❤️❤️

Lies, Excuses and Bullshit

Pairing: Exboyfriend!Dave York x f!Reader

Summary: A man with a double life willing to do anything to keep his obsession around, and a woman who doesn't know what she's gotten herself into.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, go on get! Breaking up, creepy!Dave, infidelity, stalker behavior from Dave, oral(f receiving), spanking, unprotected PIV(make smarter choices), manipulation, and if there is anything I missed please let me know!

A/N: Phew, not sure what happened here. This is a first, I don't usually write darker stuff but something about Dave made it just fly out of my finger tips. This was written for @punkshort's AU August Challenge! Thank you Shortie for letting me be part of the challenge 😊 I need to shout out @beefrobeefcal @strang3lov3 @ozarkthedog and @mothandpidgeon thank you all for the encouragement and lending your eyeballs for this story! ❤️

@jay-zzle, my love, my bestie. This one is for you! 🥰❤️🥰❤️

Masterlist||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

You thought things were fine. Dave is the perfect gentleman. It is a complete shock to see this text from your friend. It was a picture of Dave with another woman and two little girls at a soccer game. Maybe it’s his niece's soccer game and he’s just there being a good uncle? Until the next text comes in.

Isn’t that your boyfriend?

Another picture is attached featuring Dave, his arm around the woman. Then another and another and another. More evidence to suggest he is obviously in a relationship with the woman and you are the one left in the dark on this whole situation.

You stopped responding to your friend a while ago, staring at the pictures they sent. Back and forth, memorizing every detail. The way he’s looking at her. The way his arm is around her. The way he’s touching her. The way he kissed her -  that was the one that sealed your fate of knowing you had in fact not been seeing a recently divorced man but a married one. Your phone buzzes with another text notification.

D. York: Hey baby, still picking you up at 9 right?

You glare at your phone unsure of what the next step is. Obviously he is cheating on his wife unbeknownst to you. How does somebody even handle something like this? You really liked Dave, you saw a future with him. Your relationship has been going on for months now.

After neglecting to respond your phone buzzes again with another text from the man himself.

D. York: Been thinking about you 

You roll your eyes and text him back.

You: Not tonight. Don’t feel good.

D. York: Aw you poor thing. Do you need anything?

You didn’t even have the energy to respond with this new found information rattling around your brain, pressing the button to make your phone sleep and making your way to your bedroom. You plugged your phone in and crawled into bed, ignoring the constant buzz against your nightstand as you tried to drift off. The sun was still out but you couldn’t be awake right now. You needed to shut your brain off and this was the only way you knew how.

There was a pounding on your door when you woke with a startle. The moon casting shadows through the curtains into your room. You checked your phone, seeing the multiple notifications, some from your friends and some from Dave. He’d also tried calling several different times.

D. York: Are you okay?

Did you talk to him yet?

D. York: Do you want some company?

Want me to kick his ass?

D. York: How are you feeling?

What do you plan to say?

D. York: Baby, please answer me. Getting a little worried here.

The pounding on your door continued as you checked your phone. The doorbell camera he insisted on getting for you and installed showed Dave at your doorstep holding a plastic bag, grumbling, you got out of bed and walked towards the door.

“I’m coming. Give it a rest,” you shout, hoping Dave can hear you over his loud knocks.

Sliding the chain lock you open the door.

“Baby,” Dave sighs with relief, “What have you been doing? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours now!”

“I told you, I don’t feel good,” you shrug, “I’ve been sleeping.”

“I’m sorry to wake you, I started to get worried,” Dave says, looking around your living room, “I got you some stuff to hopefully help with whatever bug you’ve seemed to catch.”

You watch as he carefully steps into your space, placing the bag on the coffee table in front of your couch.

“Dave,” you sigh, “I know.”

“Know what?” Dave asks, hands on his hips and shaking his head with a smirk.

“I know you’re still married.”

You see his adam's apple bob as he swallows, flopping back onto the couch, and clasping his hands together. He stays silent for a moment, contemplating what to say next.

“How’d you find out?”

Your eyes widen, not expecting him to fold so easily. 

“A friend sent me some photos from today at the soccer field,” you murmur, trying to keep the wavering in your voice to a minimum.

“I see,” Dave says with a nod.

“You also have kids?”

Dave nods again, facing you this time.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Dave scoffs, “Sleep with you?”

“I wouldn’t just call what we’ve been doing as ‘sleeping together,’ Dave,” you say, using your fingers as air quotes when the words sleeping together leave your mouth.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Dave chuckles, “I get bored from time to time and like to play with someone new.”

“Your wife know that?” you ask, glaring at him. This man who you thought you knew is showing an entirely different side of himself, and you don’t like it.

“She doesn’t need to know because it’s not a big deal.” Dave sighs exasperated.

“I think it’s best if you left.”

“Alright,” Dave says standing, “If that’s what you want.”

“Yep,” you say with a sharp nod.

“Listen,” Dave says, reaching a hand towards your arm, and you slid your arm back letting him know not to touch you, and he put his hand down beside him, “Okay, well, it’s really not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be. I like you, I like what we’ve been–”

“Dave, you’re cheating on your wife,” you grit through your teeth interrupting the spiel he was going on, and swung the door open for him, “Leave.”

—

“Fucking take it.” Dave growls in your ear, thrusting his hips harshly into you, “Just like that baby.”

Your moans fill his ears, he can tell you’re close. The way your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him tighter. He can practically taste your climax in the air around him, gripping your hips tighter and angling them so he can get deeper.

“Dave,” you sob, after a particularly harsh thrust. Fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, back arching as you continue to cry out his name.

Dave. Dave. Dave.

“David!”

Dave jumps to the sound of Carol’s voice. Looking around to see he’s in his own bed in his home, not yours.

“Honey, your alarm has been going off for 10 minutes now.”

He lets out a sigh facing his reality, adjusting the hardness in his pajama bottoms. It was just a dream. It’s been months since he’s seen you. You’ve seemed to make your way into his brain at all times of the day, conscious or not.

“I’m gonna get the girls ready but you don’t need to be late for work again,” Carol says, giving him a smile and wink. After last night, he’s not sure how much longer he can do this. He’s been trying to have sex with Carol more. Sure, she’s his wife but she doesn’t scratch the same itch you did.

He’s tried. He’s tried to be a good husband, he’s tried to be a good dad and he’s exhausted. Dave feels himself becoming more of a shell since you told him to leave.

You’ve made it abundantly clear you want nothing to do with him. He tried to reach out to you, only to have his number blocked. You disabled your doorbell camera after he left that night. You must have known he’d try and look at it on his phone, you knew he had the information for your account. Why wouldn’t he try to look?

What you don’t know is that once Carol takes the girls to school, he gets the second phone hidden in the false bottom of a shoe box in his closet that is an exact copy of your own. He can see who you’re texting, where you’re at, how things at work are going, who you’re hanging out with. It’s become an obsession to check it daily.

—

As he steps out of the shower, Carol shouts up the stairs that she’s leaving with the girls, and the front door closes shortly after. Time to start his day.

Getting dressed in his running gear and snatching his headphones from the dresser. He makes his way to the closet. Finding the shoe box with your duplicated phone.

Texts from your friends, a text from your boss and a missed call from your mom. What catches his eye the most is the notification from some jackass on Tinder. James. Scanning James’ profile he’s definitely not your type: blonde hair, green eyes, gelled back hair, and a full beard.

James, 29

Looking for a girl who just wants to have some fun, if it leads to more that’s cool too. I like hiking, graduated from Harvard, hanging with my bros, anything else hmu

Dave shakes his head as he reads the messages shared between the two of you. He scans reading hellos, good nights, sharing random facts about each other, until he stumbles upon the most recent messages

James: Hello gorgeous 😉

Hello 😊

James: So I’ve been thinking would you wanna meet up? Go get a drink or something?

Sure! 7 good?

James: Awesome! Yeah. Do you know where Sal’s is?

I do! It’s not far from my job

James: Perfect! I’ll see ya then beautiful

No. No way in hell is this James guy meeting up with you. Dave calls the office letting them know he’s taking a personal day, he has some business to take care of.

—

Sal’s is exactly what you expected it to be. Dark, dingey, and small. Not too crowded thankfully, it’s definitely got character though. The random decor on the wall is confusing. You can’t tell if this is supposed to be a sports or a punk bar with the random band posters on the wall along with sports jerseys next to them.

Making your way to the bar you sit down on a stool, flagging down the bartender.

“What’s your poison for the night?” He asks, wiping his hands on the towel he was carrying.

“Jack and Coke,” you say, slipping your hand into your bag to get your wallet out. He makes quick work of mixing the drink and placing it in front of you, handing over your card while you hear the jingle of the door.

“Starting a tab?” The bartender asks, swiping your card.

“No, thank you,” you smile as he hands your card back to you, putting it back in your wallet.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see someone standing a couple stools away. Looking down at your drink, moving the straw around before taking a drink. You take a peek at your watch to see it’s 10 minutes before you’re supposed to meet James. 

Maybe this was a bad idea, you haven’t had to do this in months. It was easier when Dave just kind of fell into your life.

“Whiskey on the rocks.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up when you heard the familiar timber of his voice, head snapping to look at him. Dave. His smirk as he waits on his drink says it all, he knew you would be here. Was he James?

“Are you fucking serious?” You hiss through your teeth.

Dave thanks the bartender, moving closer to you.

“I come in peace,” Dave says, sitting in the stool one away from you, “All I want to do is talk.”

“Are you James?” You ask through clenched teeth, glaring at him.

“Oh baby,” Dave tuts, “I’m not James, he’s very real.”

You continue to glare at him. Unable to force your brain to work with your limbs on moving, leaving, throwing your drink on him. Anything other than sitting here being in his presence.

“He wasn’t hard to convince to leave you alone though,” Dave looks at you with a smirk, one eyebrow raised and begins to chuckle, “One mention of snapping any finger that touches you sent him running.”

You try to swallow but your throat feels like a desert, gripping the tumbler in front of you and taking a swig. Did he… did he do something to James? Surely not, Dave wouldn’t even kill the spider that appeared in your apartment one day, scooped it up and took it outside. How could he cause harm to anything?

“Dave did you…” pausing pondering how to even ask the question.

“Did I hurt him?” Dave asks, scooting to the stool next to you and leaning in closer, invading your space and you nod your head, “No, just made it known what’s mine.”

You let out a sharp gasp at his words, arousal seeping into the gusset of your underwear, thighs clenching together at his closeness, feeling goosebumps erupt across your skin. This shouldn’t be happening but your body thinks otherwise.

“I’ve missed you baby,” Dave hums into your ear, “Don’t like how we ended things.”

The way he says it has the ice around your heart melting. You hate him but can’t help the way your heart betrays your brain at his words. Dave lets out a small growl, gripping your bare thigh beneath the bar top possessively.

“I’m staying in a hotel room tonight,” he says, the grip on your thigh becoming less and smoothing his hand against your inner thigh. Gliding his hand up, up, up. Pinky finger playing with the edge of your underwear under your skirt.

You grab his hand and pull it away from your core, bringing it to rest on your lap. Lacing your fingers with his, while his thumb rubs along your palm. You sigh, contemplating what to do. Go with him or send him packing like last time. The devil on your shoulder telling you to go with him, it’s just stress relief, it won’t- it can’t mean anything, he knows your body better than anyone else. The angel on the other side just repeating the same words, he’s still married.

In the words of your mother, if he doesn’t cheat with you then he’ll just find someone else. Might as well have fun.

“I’ve missed you too,” you confess with a soft whimper in his ear. Finally seeing him again after months of nothing has your practical sense crumbling. 

“Let’s go then,” Dave smirks, standing pulling your hand slightly to stand with him and leave.

—

Dave drove like a bat out of hell to the hotel, dragged you to the elevator and his room as if this was his last chance to have you. Clothes flying off the moment you crossed the threshold of the room.

“Dave,” you moan, his lips ghosting down your neck to your collarbone. His hands grip your ass, pulling you flush against his front, feeling his erection against your stomach.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he groans, his mouth sucking the flesh of your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth and giving it a nip. A whine escapes past your lips at the sudden pressure of his teeth, moving your body with him until you feel the back of your knees hit the bed.

Dave releases your nipple, pushing himself against you to lay back on the bed, making room for himself between your thighs. His dark eyes swimming with lust study your face. His hand comes to rest on your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.

“Why’d you let me leave like that?” His voice barely a whisper, lying his forehead against your own.

“You’re married,” you wince hearing the words leave your throat. You shouldn’t be doing this.

“I can change that,” he smirks with a chuckle, kissing the corner of your mouth, “I’d leave if it meant you’d stay,” kissing your jaw, “I’d spend every single day of my life making you happy,” he coos, trailing his lips down to your neck, laving his tongue against your pulse point.

“Dave,” you plead, hoping to stop his words. You don’t want to hear this, it’s all lies to get you to stay. The ache between your thighs begging for more.

“Mean it baby,” Dave says with a hum, mouth traveling down the expanse of your body, “Only want you,” he breathes when his face inches away from your sex, “Looks like you want me too,” he teases.

You feel the warmth spreading through your body as he sighs using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, staring at your glistening slit.

“Oh yeah, she’s definitely missed me,” he hums, flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Dave,” you gasp, gripping the sheets between your fingers. He works his tongue along your bundle of nerves swirling and sucking.

“God I’ve missed this pussy,” Dave growls, gripping your hips tightly before fucking you with his tongue.

“Fuck,” you moan, back arching off the bed. The fire in your abdomen grows more intense. You reach for one of his hands, linking your fingers with his. His other hand moving, fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please,” you beg, “Dave, pl- please. More, I- I need m-“, you cry out when his fingers plunge into your cunt. Swiftly curling them inside you as he moves the pads of his fingers back and forth putting delicious pressure against your g-spot.

“That’s it baby,” Dave groans, nipping your inner thigh, “Let me have it.”

Your toes curl feeling the coil in your lower belly tightening, leaning your head up to watch him. He looks as wrecked as you feel as he rapidly flits his tongue against your clit. His brows furrowed in concentration as he worked his mouth and fingers in sync for you to reach your climax, his lips shiny from your arousal. He opens his eyes to see your mouth hung open in a silent scream, brows pinched together as you pant looking into his eyes.

“Dave,” you pant, “Baby, I’m gonna come.”

Your walls clamp down on his fingers as you stare into his dark orbs. White hot heat spreads throughout your body, letting out a soft shriek.

“Flip over,” Dave instructs, moving your pliable limbs so you’re on your stomach. You cry out as he pushes his cock into you sharply.

“Fuck.”

“Shhh,” Dave tuts, “It’s okay baby, you can take it.”

You whine, it feels like he’s splitting you in two, walls gripping his length. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust before he’s roughly snapping his hips into you.

“Make you mine again,” Dave grunts, “No one else deserves you.”

The pain quickly turns into pleasure as he works his cock in and out. The sound of your squelching pussy filling your ears as strangled noises crawl up your throat.

“God damn baby,” Dave hisses, tilting your hips up as he grinds his hips into you, hitting that spot deep inside only he’s been able to reach.

“Missed this so,” he grunts, slapping your ass, “Fucking,” another slap against your skin, “Much,” another harsh slap before soothing the marks he’s left with his palm.

“Dave,” you let out a choked sob, feeling the pleasure building, thrusting your hips back into him, “Faster.”

“Dirty girl,” Dave hums, gripping your hips again, pounding into your pussy at a frantic pace, “You gonna- oh fuck- come again?”

You can only nod your head weakly, feeling the sizzling pressure in your abdomen start to boil over. Your walls spasming and contracting around his cock. The muscles in your legs tensing before screaming out.

“Oh fuck,” Dave moans, “That’s it baby. Come on my cock. Just like that.”

Dave leans over caging you between his arms, thrusting into your wet heat a half a dozen times before his hips start to lose rhythm and going still, your name tumbling from his lips, letting your walls milk his cock feeling the warmth of his seed paint your walls.

“I really have missed you,” Dave admits slumping against you with a sigh, “So fucking much.”

He kisses your shoulder before pulling out with a hiss. You groan feeling the emptiness before he helps you up, guiding you to the bathroom.

You shower together, taking time to wash each other with delicate touches, and sharing intimate kisses before crawling back into bed with his arms wrapped around you.

You wake sometime in the middle of the night. Dave’s snoring beside you, finding your phone amongst your belongings scattered around the room, you make your way to the bathroom. Looking at Dave sleeping so peacefully from the doorway of the bathroom you can’t help feeling torn. You loved him, still do if you’re being honest with yourself, but this isn’t what you two should be doing.

You find an uber available and schedule to be picked up. Quietly making your way out of the bathroom and grabbing your things when you hear two identical dings. One from your hand and one from Dave’s bag. Slipping your clothes back on you slowly wander over to his things. Rummaging around until you find a phone, similar to yours. Pushing the button on the side you see a notification for an Uber 5 minutes away, looking at your own phone to see it displaying the same.

“What the fuck?” You whisper to yourself, head snapping to look at Dave hoping you didn’t wake him. You look around to find a pen and piece of paper.

—

Dave wakes the next morning with a smile, remembering what happened last night. Sliding his hand to where you should be, feeling the cool sheets under his palm, peeking an eye open to see the empty spot next to him.

He listens closely to his surroundings, hoping to hear the shower but is met only with silence. Frowning as he sits up, scrubbing his hands against his face trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. Looking around the room for any sign of you, taking note of your things being gone.

He sees a folded piece of paper lying on top of something on the dresser. Dave gets up to inspect what it is. His name is on the paper, sitting on top of two phones. Immediately recognizing one as yours and the other the duplicate he had made. His eyes scan the note you left, unable to believe what he was reading.

You’ll never be anything but a lying, cheating, manipulative douchebag. Figure your shit out. Don’t ever reach out to me again.

Dave’s hand curls into a fist as he reads the note over and over again. You left. You really left and this time it’s going to be even harder to find you.

He smirks, shaking his head as he collapses on the edge of the bed. You must not realize how much he loves a challenge.

klaus i love you

😍😍😍

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Pairing: Joel Miller X fem!Reader | W/C: ~6.3K | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: You give Joel a birthday gift to remember before the world falls apart.

A/N: This will probably rip your heart out…but in like a sexy way. Missed you all.x

Artwork credit (far right): Refael Suissa | Irefaels

Warnings: Set it in the TLOU TV universe / follows the show’s timeline and locations (Austin / Jackson). Heavy sexual tension. Frustrated / grumpy Joel. Reader is a bit of a minx. Latin language (duh). Flirting / seduction. Alcohol / scenes take place in a bar. Sarah / Ellie / Tommy are in this. Good Dad!Joel. Implied canon-typical violence. Slight age gap (make it your own, but in my mind reader is about seven years younger than Joel). Joel get’s explicit consent. Raw, passionate smut. Smut with implied but undiscussed feelings. Oral (M / F receiving). Fingering. Praise kink. Dirty talk. Slight size kink. Unprotected P in V. Cum eating. Cum on face (a.k.a. Joel turns you into his birthday cake). Chair sex. Implied violet!Joel. No use of Y/N. No use of daddy. Use of good girl. Reader has female sex anatomy and has slight implied feminine descriptors. Could be seen as a happy or un-happy ending. Let me know if I missed anything!

Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

Ad Astra Per Aspera  ~ “Through Hardship to the Stars” 

++++

Austin, Texas  – September 26, 2003

"Damn it, Dan! This delay's gonna cost us a whole week—we're already playing catch-up," Joel barks into his Nokia, barely catching the muffled murmurs coming from the other end. "Look, just fix it. I'm done here. Bye." With a snap, he ends the call and tosses his phone into the faded pocket of his jeans, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in sheer frustration.

The annoyance is written all over his face, but it's nothing compared to the storm brewing inside. Delay after delay has catapulted this job to the top of his 'worst-ever' list. 

And to top it off, it's his birthday – a day he hasn’t really ever been fond of, mostly because it just means he’s getting old. He doesn’t need his birthday to remind him of that, though. His back does a fine job of it every morning. 

 "Screw it, one beer won't kill me," he mutters under his breath. Seeing your smile might even help, too. 

Joel jumps into his truck, his toolbox landing on the passenger seat with a puff of dust. He notices a pack of Tommy’s cigarettes on the dash and toys with the idea of lighting up, but he can already hear Sarah’s nagging if she catches a whiff. It’s just a short drive to the bar.

"Must be a full moon or something," he grumbles, trying to drown out the constant wail of sirens with Hank Williams' twang. Alone, he belts out a lyric or two, a guilty pleasure he’d never share in company.

He pulls into the Whiskey Ward parking lot—only one other car there. Yours. 

Joel instinctively glances at his wrist, remembering too late his watch is out of commission. Need to fix that thing, he thinks to himself as he steps out, his work boots hitting the pavement. He runs a hand through his just starting to grey hair and pushes open the wooden door.

Inside, the bar is quiet, and there you are, perched on the bartop, legs crossed, engrossed in a textbook with a CD-player by your side. You haven't noticed him yet, so he takes a moment just to watch you, finally easing onto a leather stool at the far end of the bar. After a few moments, he clears his throat to get your attention.

"Oh, shit – Joel! Hi,” you exclaim, pulling off your headphones and sliding off the bartop with a graceful hop. The move briefly reveals a flash of your midriff, smooth and unexpected. Joel's hands clench into fists at his sides, a jolt of surprise tightening his grip.

"Rough day?" you muse, sliding a napkin across the bar to Joel with a casual grace, offering a fleeting glimpse of your figure as you pour him a Coors—his usual.

"Yeah—somethin' like that," he grumbles, reaching for the glass. His fingers brush yours, causing your skin to flush a bit. He notices.

"Quiet in here for a Friday, huh? Didn't expect to be the only one," he comments, sipping his beer to quench the heat of the day, yet feeling the alcohol's warm embrace relaxing his muscles.

"Odd day, really. Barely had two customers," you lean back against the bar, your stance casual yet poised, "Or maybe I did it just for you."

Joel looks puzzled.

"Maybe I cleared the place out, kept it just for you... seeing as it's your birthday and all," you add, inching closer to his side of the bar.

"Hm," Joel hums, another sip hiding his smile. "You know about that, huh?"

"Of course – remembered the first time you flashed your I.D.," you wink, sending a warm rush through him like a dip in a hot tub.

“And here I was thinkin’ you thought I was some kid tryin’ to sneak in a beer,” he teases.

Your laughter fills the air, more refreshing to him than the beer itself. Leaning in, he wonders if you're this close with everyone or just him.

"What's that you're reading?" Joel nods toward the textbook still open on the bartop.

Caught off guard, too absorbed in the features of his face, you blink. "Huh?"

"Your book," he gestures again.

"Oh, right—it's for my Master's in Latin history," you explain nonchalantly.

Joel whistles lowly, clearly impressed. "Learn anythin’ good?"

"It's Latin," you quip, matter-of-factly.

"So? Teach me something, Darlin'."

Darlin'. He rarely uses it, but when he does—you feel it in places you think you maybe shouldn’t. 

"Well, I’m currently reading about the Roman poet Seneca. Kinda reminds me of you, actually."

"That so?"

"No." You tease, smiling. "You might be a bit grumpy sometimes, but he’s got you beat there—even on your birthday."

Joel's smirk grows. "That obvious, huh?"

"Just a bit," you tease back, your voice playful yet laced with an undertone that makes his heart beat a bit faster. You lean closer, your arms crossing nonchalantly on the bar, but every move calculated to draw him in. 

The space between you seems charged with electricity; the air thickens palpably, as if every breath you take is shared. His gaze, intense and unyielding, drifts from your eyes down to your lips, lingering there, tracing the curve with an almost tangible thirst.

"Another?" you whisper, the words barely more than a breath, a soft, inviting caress against his face.

"Sure," he replies, his voice a low rumble, smooth but noticeably thick with anticipation. His eyes hold yours a moment longer, burning with a mixture of desire and curiosity, before you pull away. 

As you move to refill his glass, the distance feels like a sudden cold snap, and the absence of your nearness leaves him oddly bereft, eager for you to return and cut through the growing tension.

You fill his glass carefully, less foam this time, and return. 

"Ad Astra Per Aspera," you say, placing it before him, his confusion mirrored in his smirk.

"You havin’ a stroke or something?" he teases.

You laugh, "No, it's Latin. It means 'through hardships to the stars.'"

He contemplates the phrase, letting it seep in. "Is that your way of saying my day will get better?"

"Not exactly," you draw nearer, voice lowering to a sultry whisper. "But I can think of something that will..."

It’s now or never, you think. 

Your lips hover just over his.

"Kiss me."

His stomach feels like a lead ball just dropped into it. He pauses, contemplating his next move. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't resist. His hand finds the nape of your neck, pulling you in, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that promises more than just a better day.

It's not the type of kiss the prince gives a princess at the ball. No. It’s needy. A fierce, messy little thing. 

The scratch of his stubble sends a thrilling tickle across your skin, igniting a warm flush that spreads deliciously through you. You catch his lip gently between your teeth, releasing a soft moan as he draws you closer, your toes barely touching the ground. When the kiss breaks, your fingers instinctively touch your lips, as if to preserve the sensation that's transformed them.

With a playful smile, you begin to retreat, your fingers curling in a seductive beckon for him to follow. Joel's eyes track your every move as you flip the bar's sign from 'open' to 'closed'. Does this mean what he thinks it means? 

His hopes surge as you stride confidently to the front door, locking it with a decisive click. The sound of metal securing into metal seems to seal not just the door, but the promise of what’s to come. 

You lean back against the solid wood, hips cocked slightly, your stance an open invitation as you catch his gaze with a daring, expectant look.

He catches your drift and takes a few large strides forward. 

Faster than a blink, he’s on you, one hand on your hip, the other firm on the back of your neck. He crowds you back, pinning you harder between the door and him. You knew he was a big man, that much is obvious, but with the way he’s on you right now, he’s all you can see, feel, hear – it’s intoxicating. 

He lowers his head to your neck, his lips grazing the skin of your throat. The touch sends shivers down your spine, your pulse quickening under his mouth. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his breath warm against your skin. His grip tightens, his fingers digging into your hip, grounding you. 

“You sure you wanna do this, darlin’,” he murmurs, “you can still say no.”

You feel the soft press of his lips against your erratic pulse, the slow drag of his teeth drag up the side of your neck.

A moan slips from your lips.

“Words, baby.” He sucks a mark on your throat, and you melt a little more under his touch, sinking deeper and deeper into all things him. 

“God – yes, yes Joel, I want you, I’m sure,” you say, maybe a little too eager. Your words earn a small groan from him. 

“Not doin’ this jus’ cause it’s my birthday,” he asks, his firm hand still on the back of your neck. You angle your chin to face him, and his lips find yours. He kisses exactly the way you thought he would – it’s deep, intense, commanding. 

You moan into his mouth as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, and you twist your hands into the fabric of his shirt. Your fingertips graze the top of his belt, then drop lower, feeling the hard shape of him through the denim.

“No, Joel. I think you and I both know that I’ve wanted you for a long time,” you confirm, the sincerity evident in your voice. 

His breath hitches at your touch, and he presses even closer, his hips grinding against you. You can feel his heartbeat, rapid and strong, matching the pounding in your chest. His lips leave yours, trailing hot kisses down your jawline to the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Fuck,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with desire.

Your hand moves more boldly now, tracing the outline of him with your fingers, feeling him harden even more under your touch. He groans, the sound vibrating through you, and you can’t help but arch into him, seeking more contact.

“Nope, ” he purrs, “Wanna see you first…it’s my birthday, after all.” 

His hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and dip. He finds the hem of your shirt and tugs it upward, breaking away from you just long enough to pull it over your head. He discards it carelessly, his eyes darkening as they rake over your now-exposed skin.

You toe off your shoes and work to take off your bra, all while Joel unbuttons your jeans. You wiggle your hips to assist him in removing the barrier. After what seems like no time at all, you’re nearly fully nude in front of him, bare the thin lace of your panties. 

“Fuck me,” Joel says, taking a small step back and admiring the view. He looks at you like you’re a piece of art, prettier than anything he could have conjured up in his mind. Certainly prettier a man like him deserves, but he’s not in the mood to question or overthink things now. 

He steps forward and puts his hand on your waist, using his thumb to trail over your soft skin. Goosebumps collect like pebbles on your skin from the cool air, and your nipples harden from his touch.

You push your chest to him, for him. He accepts your offering; swipes a calloused thumb across your plush, silky nipple, and crouches to catch the other in his desperate mouth. He groans into your chest the second your nipple meets his lips. You can’t control the deep hum that escapes from your throat. Joel smirks at the sound, lips still attached to your breast.

“Joel,” you moan.

He trails kisses down the valley of your breasts, across the soft swell of your stomach, whispering praise against your skin as he goes. His voice is a low, soothing murmur, each word sending shivers down your spine. You drape your hands over his broad shoulders, fingers threading through the curls that gather at the back of his head, holding him close as he works his way down to the band of your panties.

On his knees, he places both of his hands on the curves of your hips and holds you steady while he looks up at you. He looks up at you like a man starved, his pupils so dark they edge out most of the brown, his hooded eyes are almost a plea for you to let him continue.

“Can I taste you?” he asks, already hooking his thumbs in the band of them, awaiting your permission. 

You pause with your mouth agape a bit, he wants to taste you. You’ve never had a man ask before, a fact that makes what he’s doing to you right now even hotter. 

“Go on, birthday boy,” you tease. His prominent nose presses into your mound and groans. 

“Thas’ right, being such a good little present for me,” he praises. His cock twitches against the confines of his jeans.

His hands are warm and sure as they slide beneath the fabric, pulling your panties down with agonizing slowness. You take a small step out of them, and he gently caresses up the back of your calve and back of your thigh, his hand landing on the curve of your ass. He tightly grabs the flesh there. 

He gently guides your leg up onto one of his shoulders, and you press back into the wall and lean your pelvis closer to him. The anticipation is electric, every nerve ending in your body alive and buzzing with need. His lips follow the path of his hands, kissing along the newly exposed skin, his breath hot against your thighs.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he praises before leaning in to place an experimental kiss on the top of your mound. You let out a soft little sound at the feeling of his lips on your skin. 

He gets bold with his kisses, and once you’re comfortable with his mouth on you, he glides his middle finger through your dropping folds before flipping it so it’s wrist up, pausing with the pad of it right at the entrance of your tight hole. 

You look down at him with your lusty doe eyes that have been driving him crazy since he first saw you and bite your lower lip in anticipation. He looks at you and gently nudges the nip in, he holds it there for a brief second before fully thrusting it up into your core, holding your gaze as he enters you. You gasp.

“Tight little thing, too, ain’t cha’,” he moans as he continues to feel you, eventually putting his mouth back on your pussy, his lips sealed around your puffy clit. His large finger pumps in and out of you as his tongue flicks and swirls where you need him the most. 

“More,” you moan, “Fuck–please, Joel, give me more,” you mewle. 

“I will, baby,” he whispers against your wet skin as he slips another finger in, one you greedily accept. 

He devours you, and eats you from the inside out. His tongue is precise and relentless, each flick and swirl overwhelming your senses. It's so good, so intense, that you feel like you're going to come apart at the seams.

“Joel,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need. “I—”

He looks up at you briefly, his eyes dark with hunger and desire, before doubling down on his efforts. The world narrows to the sensation of his tongue, the heat of his mouth, and the steady rhythm that drives you closer and closer to the edge.

Heat pools in your lower abdomen, and the world becomes fuzzy at the edges of your vision. 

You moan as he sets a relentless pace with his mouth and fingers, slowly tightening the coil inside of you in a way you’ve never felt before. Time slows briefly, and your vision goes white, little specks of light dancing behind your eyelids, heat rushing up to your chest and cheeks. 

Until – 

“Oh my god, don’t stop,” you unravel for him, a babbling mess of pleasure, he holds you steady as he works you through it. And when he’s satisfied that you’re satisfied, he gently hoists your leg off of his shoulder and rises to his full height. 

“You look even more gorgeous when you’re cumming for me, you know that,” he whispers against your neck, nipping at your jaw until his lips find yours. You taste yourself on them, feel the wetness in his beard. He slips his tongue into your mouth, and you moan. It’s so hot to taste yourself on him, dizzying that wants to taste you on his tongue. 

“Can it be my turn now…,” you wink at him, hooking your fingers into his belt loops.

“It is your birthday after all.” 

This time it’s your turn to press him back, and you do, guiding him until he bumps into the bar. You pull one of the stools out and he takes a seat. 

On jelly-like legs, you begin to kneel before him, holding his gaze as you do. The look in his eyes is enough to make you forget the slight sting in your knees from the hardness of the floor beneath you. 

You place your hands on his thick thighs, gliding them up to meet his belt. You watch his face as you make quick work of unbuckling it. His breath hitches, eyes darkening with desire.

Pants next, you pull the zipper down, and he helps you take them all the way off. You pause to palm the length of him under the single piece of fabric left on him, feeling the heat and hardness beneath. His breath catches, and you see the muscles in his jaw tighten.

With deliberate slowness, you pull his boxers down, far enough for his cock to finally spring free. The length of him slaps against his soft tummy, leaving a little smear of pre-cum in its wake. You can’t help but take a moment to admire him, the sight of him fully aroused, sending a fresh wave of desire through you.

You wrap your hand around him, feeling his weight and heat, and his hips jerk slightly at the contact. You look up at him, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure, lips parted as he watches you intently.

You wrap your hand around his thick, throbbing cock, your grip firm yet teasingly slow as you begin to stroke him with a deliberate, rhythmic pace. The sheer weight of it in your hand sends a thrill through you, and you can't help but admire the size and power beneath your touch. 

Joel’s head tilts back, his eyes fluttering closed as if he’s surrendering to the pleasure, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. His arms stretch out, muscles taut, until his hands grip the edge of the bartop, anchoring himself as you work him with skillful, unrelenting strokes.

You wet your lips, duck down to the base of his shaft, and plant a small kiss at the base of his cock. 

“Shit,” Joel groans. 

You hum as you flatten your tongue and lick a long, wet stripe up the underside of his cock and stop at the top with your mouth open wide. As you hold the tip of him in your mouth, your tongue darts out to taste the salty, musky flavor of his pre-cum. One of his hands frees from the bar to tangle in your hair, to guide you gently down as you take him into your mouth.

The sounds he makes as you begin to move are nothing short of primal. You can feel his thighs tense beneath your palms, his breath coming in ragged gasps as you work him with your mouth and hands.

You hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, the feel of him against your tongue and the sounds of his pleasure spurring you on. His fingers tighten in your hair, guiding your movements, his control slipping with each passing second.

“Shit – shit, baby you gotta stop…gonna make me cum too soon,” he pleads. 

He can’t have that. He needs to fuck you. He’s not sure he’s ever needed anything more. 

You smile around him, the vibration of your laughter making him shudder. You ease off his cock, and look up at him with hungry eyes. He pulls you up by the back of your neck and brings his hands to your hips. 

“Fuck, look at you,” he says, “think you might be prettier than all the stars in the universe.” 

It’s cheesy. Too cheesy. He’d be more embarrassed if he wasn’t so fucked out. 

“Need to fuck you,” he rasps in your ear. “Come here,” he demands, patting his lap. 

You look at him for a moment. Does he mean on the stoo–

Before you can finish the thought, he reaches out and pulls you forward, aiding you on top of him. His cock is now nestled gently between your soaking folds, just waiting to be inside. He holds you close to his chest, tight enough for the both of you to keep your balance. 

You tangle your fingers through his hair as he nips at your jaw. 

“Feelings mutual, cowboy,” you rasp. 

“I don’t have a condom,” he says, a little quiet. 

“I’m on the pill. Please, Joel, please fuck me,” you wiggle your hips a little on top of him, the thickness of his cock rubbing against your still throbbing clit. 

With a firm but gentle touch, Joel lifts you just enough to position himself at the entrance of your slick, eager heat. As you begin to lower yourself onto him, you gasp when he fills you halfway, the stretch sending shivers up your spine. Sensing your need to adjust, he holds you there, his grip steady as your heart pounds in your chest, your eyes fluttering closed from the overwhelming sensation.

"Eyes on me, baby," he rasps, his voice thick with desire. You force your eyes open, locking onto his, and in that moment, he pushes deeper, taking you inch by inch. When he pauses again, halfway inside, he studies your face with a mix of concern and hunger.

"You okay?” he asks, his tone laced with restraint. You shake your head yes, breathlessly telling him you want all of him.

Once he's certain you're ready, he thrusts his hips up, releasing his hold just enough to let you sink fully down onto him. The sensation of him filling you completely, every inch buried deep inside, leaves you both trembling with a shared intensity, the connection between you electric and undeniable.

Your pussy clenches around him, your jaw going slack as he fills you completely. Joel fucks you with deep, deliberate strokes, each one slow and measured, giving you time to savor the way he stretches you, to adjust to every inch of his thick length. He holds you tight against him, the heat between your bodies building, making the little space that remains sticky with sweat and desire.

His breath is hot in your ear, whispering praises that send shivers down your spine. His hands grip your hips with a firm, guiding pressure, helping you ride him just the way he knows you need. Each movement is a teasing dance, his cock barely leaving the warmth of your cunt before you're slamming back down, taking him to the hilt again and again.

This position drives you wild—the way his thick, coarse hair brushes against your clit with every thrust, adding just the right amount of friction. It’s the perfect cushion, the perfect tease, amplifying every sensation as you move on top of him, your body attuned to his in the most intimate way possible.

“Holy fuck —” his words break with a moan again,  “That’s it, baby, ride me, use me…god.”

His words ignite something primal within you. As his hands grip your ass, you brace yourself on his shoulders and start to ride him harder, letting him guide your movements with each firm squeeze. His cock hits that perfect spot inside you, the one that sends waves of pleasure crashing through your body, making your thoughts blur into a haze of raw, unfiltered need.

With every thrust, he pumps into you with a rhythm that drives you wild, your moans growing louder and more desperate. The room is filled with the obscene, intoxicating sound of your bodies colliding, skin slapping against skin in a symphony of pure, unbridled lust.

“I’m gonna come again,” you gasp, your voice breathless and quivering, as the pressure inside you builds to an unbearable peak.

“Yeah?” he says, breath short, voice deep, “Such a good girl, want you to come for me, show me how pretty you cum.” You think you could come from just his words alone. 

Your pussy pulses around him as the wave of your orgasm takes over you, your mind hazy and filled with nothing but the thought of the way he fills you just right.

His movements begin to slow, and his grip on your ass tightens. You can tell he’s close.

“Where do you want me?”

Part of you wants to say inside, but there’s something that you want more.

“Fuck. Fuck. Face. Want you to cum on my face.” Joel’s lips lift a little at the corner, finding your answer a bit unexpected.

After a few more thrusts of his hips, he begins to stutter and slow. You take that as your cue to ease yourself off of his cock. He steadies you a bit with one hand, the other still pumping his thick length as you once again fall to your knees. 

You bow at the altar of the man above you, your hands placed dutifully on your knees, watching, waiting patiently for him to cum. 

“Gonna cum now, baby….can’t hold off an–” his words trail off as thick ropes of cum spurt out of him, landing warm and thick on your face. 

Once finished, you stay where you are, opening your eyes to once again look at him. You smile as you watch his breaths, now coming a bit more ragged, and the way his drooling cock looks so good gripped in his hands. 

He holds your gaze as you bring your finger to your face to gather the cum that’s gathered on “I’ve always wanted to be a birthday cake,” you tease with a wink, your playful tone hitting its mark. Joel blushes, a rare sight that makes you smile.

“You’re too much, you know that, darlin’?” he murmurs, his voice low and full of warmth.

“Too much, or just enough,” you counter, rising with a grin, accepting the free hand he’s offered to help you off the floor. You reach behind him for a cocktail napkin, handing one to him before using the other to wipe the rest of the mess on your face.

Once clean and redressed, the two of you stand there, the earlier momentum slowing as reality starts to creep back in. For a moment, neither of you is quite sure what to do next.

“Want another beer?” you offer, breaking the silence.

“Sure, why not,” Joel agrees, sliding into a nearby booth. He watches as you pour not one, but two beers, bringing them both to the table. Instead of sitting across from him, you slide in beside him, your thigh brushing against his as you settle in.

His hand naturally finds its place on your leg, the weight of it grounding and comforting. It feels right, easy, as if it’s always belonged there. With the bar still closed, the world outside forgotten, the two of you lose yourselves in conversation, flirting, kissing, laughing—everything flows effortlessly.

It always has with you.

“What time is it?” Joel asks, glancing around as if the hours haven’t slipped by unnoticed. He’s so caught up in you that he nearly forgets about the rest of the world, about Sarah waiting for him at home.

You glance at the clock behind the bar and feel a small jolt of surprise. “Oh shit, it’s almost 10 pm. We’ve been at this nearly all night.”

“Damn. I’m sorry, I really gotta get goin’. Sarah’s waiting for me,” Joel says, regret heavy in his voice. But you understand—he’s always spoken about Sarah with such love and pride. You know he’s a good dad, maybe even a great one, and it warms your heart to see it.

You both rise, walking together toward the door. Joel unlocks it, but before stepping out, he turns to face you. His eyes soften as they take you in, as if he’s trying to capture this moment, this image of you, and burn it into his memory. 

God, you’re beautiful. You always have been. You shine with the light of a thousand suns.

He kisses you goodbye, and your stomach tightens, that familiar ache of knowing this could be the end of something special. But as he pulls back, he catches your gaze, and his expression reassures you.

“See you soon,” he promises, his voice a gentle vow.

His lips leave yours, and you watch him as he steps out the door, the night air cool against your flushed skin.

“Hey, Joel?” you call out just as he’s a few steps into the parking lot.

He turns back, his silhouette framed by the lights in the parking lot. 

“Happy birthday, old man,” you say with a final wink, your voice carrying the warmth of everything unsaid.

He shakes his head with a small smile, lingering for a moment longer, taking in the sight of you—perched against the doorframe, hair slightly tousled, skin still glowing. It’s an image he knows he’ll remember forever.

As he drives away, he glances up at the night sky, the stars twinkling above. Maybe Seneca was on to something, he thinks, a small smile tugging at his lips as he heads home.

++++

The house is bathed in a soft, warm glow, the kind that only comes from years of memories and quiet evenings. Joel pushes the door open carefully, trying not to disturb the peace. Inside, the flicker of the television bathes the room in muted light, a newscaster’s voice droning in the background.

As the door clicks shut behind him, Joel’s eyes adjust to the dimness, and he spots Sarah on the couch, her attention absorbed in a magazine.

“You locked the door for once. Good job,” Joel remarks, a hint of pride in his voice.

“Yeah,” Sarah replies softly, her voice tinged with the weariness of waiting up.

Joel collapses onto the couch beside her, the leather creaking under his weight, the day’s exhaustion catching up with him.

“It’s 10,” Sarah says, her tone flat, but the disappointment is unmistakable.

“I know. I’m sorry, bad day at work,” Joel admits, his voice heavy. He’s never been one to hide the truth from her, but he doesn’t burden her with the details, or the truth of why he’s really late.

“Where’s the cake?” she asks, a small reminder of the promise he made that morning.

“Shit,” Joel sighs, rubbing a hand over his tired face.

“Come on, man,” Sarah teases, though there’s a touch of hurt in her voice.

“I’ll get us one tomorrow,” Joel promises, his heart sinking at the sight of her slight frown. He hates letting her down.

“Swear, or you don’t get your present,” Sarah says, a playful smile brightening her face again.

“You got me a present?” Joel’s eyes light up, genuinely surprised.

“Swear,” she insists, her smile widening.

“On my life,” he vows, his voice deep and serious this time. 

With a grin, Sarah reaches behind the couch cushion and pulls out a small gray box. Joel takes it, examining it with curiosity before carefully opening it.

“Fixed it for you,” Sarah says, watching him intently.

Joel lifts the watch from the box, admiring it for a second before holding it to his ear with a grin.

“Did you? I don’t hear anything,” he jokes, enjoying the mix of confusion and disbelief on her face before he bursts into laughter.

“That was lame. You’re lame,” Sarah quips, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her affection.

“Yeah, I know,” Joel chuckles. “Where’d you get the money for this?”

“Drugs. I sell hardcore drugs,” she deadpans, causing Joel to scoff in amusement.

“It’s better than what I do,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“It was only 20 dollars…which I stole from you,” Sarah admits, flashing him a mischievous smile. Joel gives her a mock stern look.

“I could have stolen 60 but I put the change back ‘cause I’m an honest thief. Besides, it’s the thought that counts, and you were never gonna do it for yourself...so…” she trails off, her voice softening.

Joel looks at the watch again, carefully strapping it on, his heart swelling with gratitude.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely.

“Oh, there’s one more,” Sarah adds, reaching behind the pillow again and pulling out a DVD—Curtis and Viper 2.

“Borrowed it from the Adlers,” she explains.

“Ah, this is the one with the deleted scenes,” Joel says, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice.

“Yeah, imagine how bad those have to be,” Sarah replies dryly.

“Come on, pop it in, while it’s still your birthday,” she urges, snuggling up against him as he moves to the TV and slips the DVD in.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Joel warns, swelling at the feel of her head resting on his shoulder.

“Of course I won’t, it’s too riveting,” Sarah promises, even though they both know how it will end.

The movie begins, but it isn’t long before Sarah drifts off, her soft breathing a lullaby to Joel. His cellphone rings, breaking the quiet, and he answers it, careful not to disturb her.

“Hello,” Joel says quietly.

“Joel. It’s me. I’m okay,” Tommy’s voice crackles through the line, rough and anxious.

“Yeah?” Joel’s heart sinks, sensing trouble. His little brother always did have a knack for getting in trouble. 

“But I’m in jail,” Tommy admits.

“God damn it,” Joel snaps, his voice low but tense.

“It wasn’t my fault this time. I was at the bar, some guy goes crazy, starts swinging at a waitress, I step in, knock him out, cops show up…but it doesn’t matter. You gotta bail me out. If you don’t get me out tonight, I’m in here all weekend,” Tommy pleads, a desperate edge in his voice.

Joel pauses, the weight of the situation settling on him.

“It’s a fuckin’ madhouse, Joel. I gotta get out,” Tommy presses.

“Well, which jail, Travis County?” Joel asks, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, on the 10,” Tommy confirms.

“God damn it, Tommy,” Joel mutters, frustration bubbling up.

“I’m sorry. Please,” Tommy’s voice softens, regret lacing his words.

“Okay,” Joel agrees, resigned.

“Fucking idiot,” he murmurs to himself after ending the call.

He thinks back to your comment about Seneca having the upper hand on frustration. What would you think if you could see him now? 

With a sigh, Joel gently lifts Sarah from his lap, cradling her against his chest as he carries her to her bed. He tucks her in carefully, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

If he knew what awaited him the second he stepped out of the house, he never would have left.

Jackson, Wyoming – September 26, 2028 “Ellie!” Joel calls up the stairs, putting the finishing touches on her school lunch in the kitchen.

She descends the staircase, her focus completely engulfed by an ancient Latin history book. "Hey Joel, do you know what 'Ad Asturrah…Per..As..prurah' means?" Ellie’s attempt at the phrase is adorably muddled as she tries to wrangle the words from her mouth. 

In that instant, Joel's world blurs, and time seems to stretch and thin. 

He's suddenly no longer in their home in Jackson; he's whisked back to the last normal night he ever had, lying next to you, the comfort and closeness a sharp contrast to the bleakness that followed.

"Through Hardships to the Stars," Joel replies, his voice a quiet echo of times past. The words flow effortlessly, as if they've been longing to break free for years.

"Oh shit. Wasn’t expecting you to actually know that – where’d you learn that, smartie pants?" Ellie’s playful challenge pulls him sharply back to the present.

“No more questions now, off you go to school,” he says with a gentle firmness, a tone that Ellie knows means business.

“Fine, whatever, but only ‘cause it’s your birthday. Happy birthday, old man.” Her voice carries a teasing lilt as she scampers off.

Happy birthday, old man. 

You had said that, too. 

Joel moves to stand by the window, a freshly brewed coffee in hand, gazing at the morning sun that bathes the world in gold and promise, despite the gloom and grime that lines beyond the gates of Jackson. 

His mind wanders through the tumultuous paths of his past—the dire situations, the desperate choices, the blood forever on his hands, nights spent on unforgiving earth—all underscored by the gentle cadence of your voice.

As he closes his eyes, darkness envelops him, but it's not void of light. He sees stars—luminous, unreachable, eternal. In that vast canvas of night, there you are, indelibly etched in his heart.

And there you will always be.

END

A/N Continued: Thank you so much for reading! As much as I'd love to say I don't care about the notes, I won't lie and tell you I don't need them for validation. If you like this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging.

Tagging some moots for visibility since I've been MIA for so long:

@endlessthxxghts @syd-djarin @yxtkiwiyxt @auteurdelabre @morallyinept @mermaidgirl30 @survivingandenduring @morning-star-joy @merz-8 @alltheirdamn @chulopascal @sweetercalypso @xdaddysprincessxx @burntheedges @punkshort @pedrostories @bastardmandennis @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @ohheypedrito @ozarkthedog @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @darkheartgatita @joelmillerisapunk P.S. Since I'm back from my hiatus, please tag me in your fics! I would love to read and support you all.x