I usually don’t write things like this, but I have been away for a long time! I lost my job due to a lay off, and I got a new job but I was really honestly depressed for the first time in 23 years in my life. I’m getting married next year and it’s been stressful and a struggle. I’ve cried not writing, I’ve lost so much motivation but I want to get back into it so I want to run a poll. I also want to apologize, there’s no explaining why I did this I felt like I let everyone down who’s supported my writing. I do love to write, I’ve missed it every day. I have been so upset at myself I haven’t opened Tumblr in months. I’m literally just so exhausted, but I feel like myself again more and more every day now that everything is happening well. So the poll I’m writing is a mini-series for Christmas.
If you are a writer don’t let life get to you, if it does don’t let it take away your joy. My joy was writing and I lost it, I just hope I can continue. I’m so sorry guys, if I let you down. I thank you all for supporting me even while I was gone. But I’m back, I’m also sorry if this isn’t well written. I cried writing to this, it took me weeks, and support from my fiancé to come back!
More details coming soon.
Which Christmas Spicy Mini series we want?🥹
Negan Smith x OC (Daughters Best friend) A Friendly Christmas Vacation
Joel Miller x OC (Stepfather/Stepdaughter) A Spicy Christmas Home
Summary: Y/N was a young woman exploring life; having found herself mixed into the world of Hollywood, she started a cam girl career. Not knowing how much fame she’d grown, she started dancing at an all-expensive nightclub in the city. Not knowing the owner, Joel Miller, has been infatuated with her since the beginning of her career. Joel and Y/N began seeing each other beyond the cameras, with no feelings, just lust. Who knew the girl pretty in pink could fall for such a broken man?
Warnings: 18+!, smut!, sexual content!, mentions of porn!, camgirl!, dancing!, stripping!, rich joel miller!, age gap relations! (reader is mid 20s, joel is 40s), talks of different kinks!, bondage!, blindfolding!, dom/sub relations!, friends with benefits!, sexual tension!, business owner joel!, pet names!, use of words slut!/whore!-not in good manner at times (not from joel)!, famous reader!- in way!, daddy kink!, gambling!, casinos!, strip clubs!, mentions of money for sex!, mentions of prostitution!/sex worker!, oral sex!, rough sex!, public sex!, drinking!, drugs!, smoking weed!, dom! Joel, jealously!, spoiled/brat! reader, girly! reader, weed pens!, recorded sexual content!, sending nudes!, sugar daddy vibes!, mentions of sugar daddies!, sexting!, mentions of sexual assault!, darker themes!, perv ish joel!, angst!, cursing!, smoking!, rich vibes!, joel can be an asshole!, fighting!, mentions of blood!, possessive Joel!, slight sub joel!, women power!, and not fully edited.
A/N: a three part mini series for you little devils, pink style! Banners are by @cafekitsune . Please keep in check on master list for updates, check out my other series which is a Negan AU, The Perfect Woman. New updates coming soon! 💌
Summary: Joel Miller is the head of his own construction company, but he is not exactly a good man. He has a troubled past and continues to find himself in difficult situations in his present life. When he meets a new neighbor, he becomes infatuated—obsessed, even—with the younger woman next door. He is willing to do anything to have her and make her his own.
Warnings: 18+!, smut!, darker themes!, stalking vibes!, slight creep! Joel!, stealing of clothing!, spanking!, sexual tension!, obsession!, age gap! (Joel is in 40s, reader mid 20s ish could be later 20s!), reader wears dresses/skirts!, stealing clothes!, mentions of male masturbation!, oral sex! (F receiving), descriptions of slightly darker sex themes!, joel calls himself daddy!- we know he is, pet names!, small getting caught moment!, rough sex!, slight angry Joel!, dom! Joel, sub! reader!, cursing!, small dub con! moment!, slight daddy kink!, use of words slut!/whore!, spanking!, slight mention of murder!, dark Joel!, description of crying/fear!, cat/mouse vibes!- I catch you I fuck you..!, choking!, rough Joel!, and not fully edited.
A/N: This is my first one shot I am writing in first person so I hope you enjoy it this way! Please be aware of the warnings, and I hope you guys enjoy this quick one shot I whipped up for you all! This is rather a longer one and will switch POV’s- just to spice things up a bit. Gotta know how much this MAN is obsessed with the reader and worship her every needs!😏🤤— even if he is a little coo coo for coco puffs.
JOEL MILLER
Have you ever fantasized about someone? Did you find yourself infatuated with them, thinking about them constantly when they weren’t around? Even if it seemed somewhat wrong to have those thoughts? They were younger, appeared so innocent—full of life, with so much ahead of them. But the way they smiled at you made you want to press them against the wall, kissing them passionately and giving in to their every need. There’s a specific word for this type of woman, the one I craved—one that haunts my thoughts daily, consuming my desires.
A goddess. The way her hair moves, her hips sway, and even her looks at me make me weak in the knees for her. I’d do anything to be with her. I want to touch her, taste her, and I want to fuck her. I want her to be mine—no matter the risk.
YOU
Moving into a new home and being alone was somewhat more comforting than frightening. Getting out of your parent's house was an honest blessing; you got a nice job getting your place in a quiet neighborhood. It seemed like a nice place to live, with a few families and singles—everyone seemed so friendly. When you moved in, you couldn’t count how many pies and casserole dishes you had received. Many offered to lend a hand and invited you to the cookouts and small get-togethers. Making new friends, especially with older people, seemed like a good change for you.
Joel Miller, one of your neighbors, was always there to lend a hand.
Many other neighbors claimed he wasn't as admirable as he appeared, suggesting he might have some skeletons hidden in his closet. Despite this, you felt intrigued by their comments. Joel was your neighbor, living in a more distinguished white modern house across the street. Strangely, he lived alone in such a big, old house. You'll never forget the first time you saw him and the feelings he stirred within you. No boy had ever made you feel that way without even touching you. The difference was that Joel was a man; perhaps you hadn't had that experience yet.
A real man.
You first laid eyes on him months ago, cutting down the move-in boxes. You walked your sidewalk to the trash when he was across the street cutting his yard on a hot summer day. His gaze met yours shortly; sweat formed on his forehead, and his white shirt stuck to him along with the curls on his forehead, letting his muscles show underneath. You couldn’t help but bite back a smile, letting your lips pierce and giving him a friendly wave. Joel returned, watching every move you made back into your home. You could not help but look beyond your curtains to watch him. You wanted to speak to him and figure him out. You wonder if he'd ever talk to you? Your mind did not wonder long, for Joel was at your doorstep later that week. Flowers in hand, letting you know if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to contact him.
“A lonely girl like yourself might need a strong mans hands sometimes.”
How his southern charm worked on you, how he smiled, even how he moved made you squirm around him. You blushed when accepting the flowers; it was such a nice gesture, as if he wanted to win you. Would he be interested in you? You could not tell, but the months passed made you question how he felt for you. In a way, you started to fantasize about him, finding him in your thoughts in the later nights, even in your dreams. It’s like this man was haunting you; you wanted him to consume you—make you his.
What was so bad after all with Joel? He seemed perfect in your eyes, what could possibly be the issue?
JOEL MILLER
I realized I was in trouble the moment I laid eyes on her that summer day. It was mid-August, and I had just discovered that a new face had come to our little neighborhood, though I had no idea it was her. The day had dragged on, and mowing the lawn was the last thing I wanted to do, but it had to be done. I remember seeing her walk down the sidewalk in a tight-fitting sundress. Her flip-flops complemented the dress perfectly as she carried a few flat boxes that she tossed into her trash. That’s when her perfect little eyes met mine.
I couldn’t stop staring; I never thought I’d find someone so perfect. The way you smiled at me and waved, you already had me wrapped around your finger. I did not want to scare you; I wanted to know this ideal little stranger next door. You seemed so innocent—living all by herself in your own home. I knew I could find myself at her doorstep each day if I wanted to be. Finally, I got the courage and got the best flowers in town. I wanted you to know if I could lend a hand if needed. You were a lonely girl by herself and might need a man sometimes. Y/N was your name; such a beauty. For any reason… I would be there for you, no matter if you wanted him to fix a cabinet or fuck your head into the cabinet.
I would be okay with either, to be around you.
The way you smelled and gazed and blushed around me drove me mad. It drove me to an obsession with you.
Over the following months, I wanted to be around you more and more. I would do anything to be with you, to attend to your every need. I observed you from a distance; you rarely went out. When you did, it was always with the same group of girls, working hard—as you always do. However, nothing frustrated me more than Halloween when you dressed in an angel costume. The tight corset hugged those perfect perky tits of yours with a matching skirt. You were no angel that night; you were a little devil. I watched you jump into that boy's car and not return until morning. I was tempted to follow that car that night but couldn't find the courage.
Their tag number stayed with me, however.
I wanted no one else to touch you—you were going to be mine. I found myself tracking the fucker down. I wanted to make sure he never messed with you again. I hated that it broke your heart, though that little bastard never called you back; you were too good for him anyway. The way he cried like a little bitch begging me to let him go, maybe I was crazy? Perhaps I was not as good of a man as I thought. I knew I would do it again for you, even kill for you.
I was just crazy in love with you.
YOU
PRESENT DAY
You had been cleaning out your closet all day, trying to get rid of clothes that no longer mattered and that you never wore. With your hair tied up high and wearing a sports bra and shorts, you huffed as you looked at the large bags filled with clothing. “I may have a problem,” you said aloud, sighing as you threw yourself onto the bed. You wanted to ensure you had the perfect outfit for tonight; it was your first date since your Halloween outing.
You couldn’t understand why Ryan never called back; it seemed you had a nice time. Maybe you rushed into sex too quickly? Or perhaps he was using you for a one-night stand?
Typically men.
With a final, weary groan, you pushed yourself off the bed, your muscles protesting as you gripped the heavy bags filled to the brim with sweaters, tanks, jeans, and skirts. Each step down the stairs felt like a mini workout. When you reached the front door, you paused shortly to grab a sweatshirt, heading out to the cooler air. Somehow, despite the hefty burden you carried, you made it to the sidewalk. Huffing for breath, you set the bags down with a thud.
You reached for the trunk of your car, the familiar metallic click missing from your attempts. Frustration flickered through your mind as you realized you had left your keys behind. The trunk remained shut, leaving you standing there, breathless.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” You moaned out, rolling your eyes at yourself. It was such a small, easy task, but you were annoyed, sweaty, and tired. You barely made it through once your ADHD ran out midway through cleaning the closest.
It’s like you had an high for a moment.
“You need help, darlin?” A deep rusty voice broke your trance, you slightly jumped turning to see Joel approach you. You couldn’t help but smile. “Uh yeah, Joel that be much help.” You couldn’t help but shift your eyes over him, you couldn’t deny that he was attractive. He always appeared eager to lend a hand, a warm smile playing across his weathered face as he offered support whenever you needed it. Yet, as you observed, he rarely extended that kindness to any of the other neighbors. Deep down, you understood the quiet warnings that whispered in your mind, but he radiated an aura of harmlessness that was hard to resist.
You found yourself irresistibly drawn to the older man, captivated by his rugged charm and the wisdom that seemed to be etched into every line of his sun-kissed skin. There was an undeniable depth to his gaze that spoke of untold secrets. But who were you to entertain such thoughts? The idea felt both exhilarating and forbidden, leaving you in a swirl of emotions, caught between admiration and the boundaries of your own thoughts.
Hell. You overthink so much and many other things. This had to be another one where Joel would want you.
Joel's hands rested in his pockets as your eyes quickly shifted back to his glossy, wrinkled eyes. You could have sworn your gaze moved over his body just as he did over yours. “I left my damn keys inside, but could you help me put these clothes up, please?” You masked with a bright grin; Joel smirked, snickering a little. “Putting clothes to the old goodwill, huh? Didn’t think girls ever got rid of clothing?” Joel teased.
A shiver ran down your spine whenever you were near him, but you wondered if that sensation was something entirely different. After all, you couldn’t deny the fluttering in your chest; you had a crush on the neighbor, and the thought of him made your heart race. You’d willingly let him take you in any way he desired, which felt dangerously enticing. “Girls have to make room for more,” you quipped with a playful wink, your eyes sparkling with mischief.
“I’ll pop the trunk from inside, and you can toss them in there. Just give me a moment!” You tugged at the hem of your sweatshirt, speeding back inside to retrieve your keys. You quickly popped open the trunk of your car, the soft clicking sound echoing in the quiet space. You tossed your keys into the jar on the counter. As you stood there, a new thought flitted into your mind, making your heart skip a beat—maybe you should grab Joel a drink. The idea sent a thrill through you as you considered the possibility of sharing that a moment with him.
Yes, it was a nice gesture… but you would have him to stay longer with you. You had a date, but it’s like he was drawing you in. Or you were just that fucking horny for him?
It was like a high moment.
And nothing in your mind thought would change that about him.
JOEL MILLER
PRESENT DAY
It had been a hell of a day for me. The construction business was succeeding, but the long 12-hour shifts on the new bank building were exhausting. However, we did get off at a decent time.
As the sun began to set, approaching 4 PM, I cracked open a beer and walked home, gazing out of my kitchen window. Many thoughts ran through my mind, but seeing your house instantly brought you to the forefront of my thoughts. I hadn't seen you in a few days, and the last time we spoke, you mentioned going on a date with another guy. With Valentine’s Day approaching, you would have a date. But, damn, it sent a pang of jealousy down my spine. Maybe I was just too scared to make a move. I didn't know how to take the steps to make you mine.
Anger?
But fuck, how the hell could I stay angry at such a beautiful face? It was not your fault these guys asked you out; you were perfect in any way. I couldn’t believe you didn’t have a date every week, but I fucked that up with that other fucker. I wanted to show you how a real man cared for you. I just had to find the courage to do it.
As you exited the front door, I focused on your gorgeous self. You struggled with several large garbage bags, dragging them down the stairs. An oversized long-sleeve shirt perfectly complemented your biker shorts, showcasing those damn legs. I might be obsessed—no, I know I am. Despite the tired look on your face and your messy hair, you still looked perfect. At that moment, I felt a surge of inspiration, a light bulb going off in my head, and I knew I had to lend you a hand.
A woman didn’t need to be doing that by yourself anyways.
Just as our paths crossed again, I felt a familiar urge to offer my assistance, just as I had on countless occasions before. “Do you need help, darlin’?” I inquired softly, watching you startle slightly, your back still turned to me. A playful smirk tugged at my lips; you were a little jumpy little thing.
Surprise danced in your eyes as you turned around, taking in my presence with an almost curious fascination. There was a charming mischief about you, and I pondered what cute little pet names you might enjoy. The way you carried yourself hinted at a playful spirit, and I could only wonder what other surprises lay beneath that feisty exterior.
Darlin’? Sugar? Sweetheart? Baby? Slut?…
Shaking my thoughts away, I let you answer, your smile brightening the pits in my heart. “Uh yeah, Joel, that would be much help.” Your voice had a slight stutter; you were nervous. Maybe I did have you, and I didn’t even know it? “Putting clothes to the old goodwill, huh? Didn’t think girls ever got rid of clothing?” I teased, piercing my lips, fighting each desire and each thought. The desire to roam your body, I wanted people to know you, mine and only mine.
“Girls have to make room for more,” You quipped with a playful wink, your eyes sparkling with mischief. I could see right through you, you sneaky little fox. What game did you wanna play? I was in the mood for a little cat-and-mouse game. Maybe you weren’t as sly as a fox but a little mouse.
We would have to see wouldn’t we?
You went to go pop your trunk for me, once it did I had the bags in the trunk in no time. You seemed to be gone longer than I expected, I took a peak to still see your door open you weren’t in sight. A thought crept in the back of my mind, a disturbing thought.
The bags tempted me; your clothes were in the bag. Your fucking clothes with your scent, oh, I was fucked up. At least I could admit it; some creeps can’t do that. Fuck was this creepy? I couldn’t even think straight anymore. I was nervous, slowly untying the bag and seeing a few clothing items, and my eyes fell on a puffy white skirt. Taking it slowly from the bag, glancing behind me, I still do not see your figure.
I carefully closed your trunk, folding the skirt neatly and tucking it behind me as I made my way up to your front porch. The wooden planks creaked softly underfoot. Once inside your house, my eyes were drawn to the table where your keys rested. I discreetly hid the skirt behind the table, hoping it would remain out of sight. As I scanned the room, the silence felt heavy, and I still couldn’t see you anywhere. A bead of sweat formed on my forehead, a mix of anticipation and unease. “Sweetheart? You okay?” I called out, my voice echoing slightly in the quiet space. “Y/N?” The sound of your name hung in the air, and I waited for any response.
“Sorry to keep you waiting; I thought I could offer you a drink.” You offered me a glass of water, ice cubes clinked, handing it over. “You can close the door if you want to stay a bit.”
Bingo.
I smiled innocently, smoothly shutting the door behind me. Without your notice, I clicked the two locks heading your way as you returned to the kitchen. “The work wasn’t that hard, darlin’, but thank you.” I joked, and you giggled, making me feel warm inside. “Still have to offer the southern hospitality in me.” You admitted I still felt like there was more to it, however. Like I could read right through your mind. You sipped your own water. A phone ring interrupted our moment before it even got started, though.
“Excuse me a moment.” You politely excused yourself to the hallway. Causally, I sat at your counter, waiting for your return. I could hear your voice, feeling the tension burn off on you. You giggled, which made my heart flutter a bit. Once I knew why, though, when listening in on you, a rage of jealousy ran through me.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m excited.” You replied; with a glance, you paced in place. I watch you twist your hair with your finger so innocently that the grip on the glass tightens. My leg bounced up, watching you bite your lip, returning flirty comments to the ole boy. My shake brought the glass to my lips; my eyes could never leave you. If you look over, I feel one look, one look would send me over the edge. I shouldn’t think this; I shouldn’t have the want to punish you.
What have you done? Not be fucking mine that’s what.
Your gaze shifted to me, meeting mine; your face fell with confusion. With a slam of the glass on the counter, I stood up, rushing over to you, grabbing the phone out of your hand, hanging it up, and holding it away. “What the fuck? Joel?” You questioned, anger rose in your tone. The way you questioned how it was even me? I couldn’t even think it was right now.
“I need you— I need you to fuckin stop it, darling.” My voice was shaky, trying to keep calm. I stood above you tall, a finger pointing in your face like a scolded child. The offense on your face was priceless; your jaw tightened as laughter echoed through the room. The anger boiled in my stomach, and my face twisted for sure. “What the hell do you mean? This is my damn house, what’s your issue?” You threw questions, I knew you were confused. I know I was fucking up, but anger had finally won like it usually does. I know I could never hurt you; I would never touch a woman in that manner.
You have no idea what’s been going through my mind, girl," I confessed, my hands resting as fists at my sides. Your eyebrows furrowed, and fear washed over you as you slowly backed toward the front door behind you. "Do you know how crazy you drive me? Do you do these things on purpose?" Your back hit the door, and your mouth opened slightly as if you were trying to find an answer. I chuckled at your response; it felt like everything was falling into place.
"Joel," a whimper escaped your lips as you closed your eyes and cleared your throat. "I think you need to leave.
Oh, I knew I wasn’t going anywhere. I was not walking out that door without making you mine first. I wanted the neighbors to know, and I wanted everyone to know who you belonged to.
“Is that so, sweetheart?” I questioned your tactics, feeling a different desire emanating from your body. The way your legs pressed together, your thighs clinging to your tight shorts, was captivating. “You’re scaring me in a way, Joel,” you admitted. I watched you slowly reach for the doorknob—like I wouldn't notice. Trying to be sneaky, I decided to let you play the game. You opened your eyes, barely glancing at me through your long eyelashes. I lifted your chin with my fingers, and you gasped. I could tell your knees felt weak. I wanted you to be wrapped around my finger, just as I had been for you for months.
“I feel like you have a ‘but’ to that sentence, Y/N.”
With a quick rush, you twisted the knob, trying to run out as I grabbed you quickly. A small scream left your lips; I covered your mouth, slamming the door shut. I turned you back around; my hand went to your throat, my other still covering that perfect little mouth. You whimpered in fear, I was pissed off now, beyond pissed, but I loved the little chase and run.
It was cute.
“Don’t run from this sweetness; you know you’ve wanted it.” I pressed my nose against your face, inhaling your vanilla scent. Like a perfect little flower, you exuded a clean fragrance; you were truly perfect. I knew you wouldn’t scream, so I moved my hand, waiting for you to speak, yearning for you to declare it in words. Your mouth quivered, and your eyes scanned my twisted face. I could feel the darkness in my eyes; I knew rage fueled me.
“What have you done, Joel?”
Those words left your lips, tears prickled your eyelids. Fuck even the way you cried seemed so perfect, no matter how fucked up it sounded. My eyes moved over your face; my grip left your throat, and my fingers traced your reddened cheek, wiping the tear shed. “I’ve done things I am not proud of, baby.” I tried to control myself, but you were like a drug no matter what you did, just the way you looked up at me right now with those perfect eyes, your plump lips parted, just tempting me to fuck it, “Even for you. You have no idea.” You shook your head, and your hands ran through your hair. I knew your head was racing.
“I’ve hurt people darlin, even killed.” I acknowledged, the tense in your body made you closer to me which made my lips curl, “I would never hurt you.”
“We can’t- I can’t.” Your words were cut off by my lips smashing onto yours, my bigger hands crushing your cheeks roughly. You moaned into the kiss; your hands fought to touch. I knew what you wanted, pulling your hands towards me and letting you roam my body freely. “Joel— this is toxic. You can’t feel this way.” You stuttered out; my lips dragged down your lips, a chuckle leaving them. My hands pulled you closer, squeezing your thighs. “I can’t? You’d know what I do for you, baby girl?” I questioned, trailing kisses down your neck, my hand trailing to your sweatshirt. The way you didn’t stop me, your body quickly fell into my touch, “I’d kill for you, die for you. How I want you to make you feel, baby, quiver under my lips and touch.”
A moan escaped your lips; how you gave in made me smile. No words could come out of my mouth; dragging my thumb over your soft lips, your drunken gaze stayed with mine. My nose pressed against yours, I still let my words worship you and tell you what you did to me. “You make me feel like no other woman has, without even your touch. I wanna worship, touch every square inch of your body.” You moaned, tilting your head further into the door, your hand removing my jacket and running your manicured nails across my chest. “Joel, fuck.” You groaned out, wrapping your legs around me. My lips roughly met yours again, “Did I make you angry, Joel? How could I ever know you wanted to fuck me?”
Oh you really were gonna play a little innocent card now, huh?
I knew you were teasing me with that little smirk, the way you batted your eyelashes. “You’re asking for it like a little slut, huh? Is that what you want, a little punishment?” I teased, slapping your ass as you gasped against my lips, “A punishment from the bad scary man?” I drug our bodies to the living room, throwing you on the couch, my lips never leaving yours as my body dripped over your more petite body. “You’d never hurt me?” You asked, your hands cupping my cheeks to meet your eyes. My smile grew as I scanned your beautiful features. “I could never, baby. Not you, ever.” I knew I was telling the truth. I could never do anything to you, no matter my obsessions.
You were one of them, I wanted you to know that.
“I’ve been infatuated with you for months; no matter what you did, you caught my attention. The way you even breathe is infatuated to me.” I knew I sounded like a lunatic, but I was honest. Your lips curled, and I let your fingers play with my curls. You didn’t seem frightened, more intrigued. My lips teasingly trailed to your chest, which had your sweatshirt off now, trailing down to your thighs, removing your shorts slowly. Your moans echoed in the room, which was music to my ears. “You make me fucking crazy, sweetheart.” I groaned out, feeling my member tightened in my jeans. The very thought of you had me hard, the way I imagined you each night stroking my hardened cock. I now have your pretty little moans in my thoughts for those lonely nights.
I roughly grabbed at your thighs, sucking every part I could, letting your whimpers grow. “I love the idea of having you mine, letting you be my whore huh?” Your thighs fought to close, you groaned out, and your hands fought through your hair. I knew partly guilt drug down your body; you were drawn to me like a moth to a flame. “Joel, you’re insane.” You breathed out, looking down where I rested between your thighs. My eyebrows rose; pulling aside your pink panties, your legs rose, sighing out, letting your eyes close back shut. “I don’t see you stopping me; you don’t want that, I know it.” I kept my words going, letting all my thoughts out for you to hear. My lips drew closer, my breath teased your swollen clit.
I felt you press against my face between your thighs; your warmth surrounded me. I could barely hold myself together. I could feel it—the softness of your skin, the slick heat of your cunt against my lips. I let my tongue trace slow, deliberate circles around your clit, savoring the way your body trembled beneath my mouth. I wanted it to be slow, painful, and even show you what I felt. The way my cock twitched, always watching you, letting the lust turn into an obsession. A craving that made my mouth water, I finally was having the best damn meal.
“Joel fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this.” You whimpered out, “People said you were a bad man.” A chuckle left my lips, playfully letting my hands run over your wet glistening pussy. “Letting the bad old man eat your pussy baby? You would do it no matter what I’ve done, huh?” I teased; you shifted in place, biting your lip and not answering. I knew, though; we both fucking knew. The air was thick with the scent of your arousal; the evidence of your dripping pussy glazed my lips. My lips brought back to your pussy, letting each lick go deeper.
You’d moan my name, your voice breathy and broken. Each time I removed my mouth, your cute little whimpers would come out, making me chuckle. “You can call this whatever you want, honey,” I confessed, licking my lips and dragging my tongue up and down on your pussy, “Obsession. Lust. Love. Or all of it, you are fucking mine.” Your hands ran through my hair, pulling at it even; I continued to eat that juicy pussy that tasted Devine. Your moans grew along with the sound of your pussy echoing through the room, my tongue sucking you all up. “Joel, fuck, I’m close. Don’t—.” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, you poor thing.
“I want to ruin you; I want to ruin you for other men.” My fingers find your tight little hole, adding two fingers fucking you. Your hands pulled at the couch cushion and the other in my hair, “I want to claim you.” You were almost choking on your moans; lifting off the couch, I could feel you twitch; I knew you were about to cum. “That’s it, my little slut, come for Daddy.” I didn’t know if that was one of your things, but I couldn’t help myself.
My name fell from your lips, raw and reverent, as the pleasure coursed through you, leaving you trembling and spent. You gasped for breath, and sweat formed on both our foreheads. My fingers left your tight, wet hole; you whimpered at the loss of touch. Bringing myself back up, my hands wrapped around your face, your eyes scanned over me.
“Im I desire to you?”
“Even monsters have desires, baby.”
You didn’t seem to fear me, still. Our naked bodies sprawled out on the couch, a blanket casually draping over us. My lips found yours again, letting my hardened cock playfully tease your pussy. “Do you want this? You want my cock?” I teased you; you groaned out, pulling down on my lip. Grabbing at your ass with a slap, you whimpered, your mouth parting, letting our tongues collide. I let the kiss deepen, letting my fingers comb through your hair, leaving you breathless.
“I got you, darlin’,” I let out breaths softly, my hand moving right back to your center, teasing at your aching hole. The wait was agonizing; I could feel your skin prickling with an uncomfortable heat until I finally pushed in. All the time I imagined this I finally had you, claiming your cunt. In one simple move, you’re ruined. Your pussy, your body, even your soul belonged to him.
I let my hips rock into you; grunts and moans filled the room, along with the clapping of skin. My hands dug deep into your hips; the room filled up with heat. The moment was ruined by a knock on the door; I stopped myself as you gasped, trying to push my weight off.
“Joel— oh my god!” My cock still inside, you tried sitting up; I twitched inside, which my you gasp, “it’s-it’s my date.” Oh this was too good; an evil smirk crept on my face. My hips rocked back into you, the girliest squeal left your lips as I watched your eyes roll back. “Oh! Do come in.” I answered, winking at you the fear rushed over your face.
“Joel no-.”
I kept fucking your tight hole, watching through the doorway a tall boy walk in. He was about to have a sight to see, he was seeing me take what’s mine— not his. You were flushed, the way you tried to fight me off but I knew you secretly was gonna fucking enjoy this. “What the fuck?” the boy covered his eyes, a smile plastered on my face, “what kind of fucking shit are you into?” You seemed embarrassed but you couldn’t help but moan out from my cock stretching you out. “As you can see, the date is canceled boy.” I spoke out, I disgusted younger boy groaned out, “I’m just claiming what’s mine.” We both heard a door slam back, you squeaked out my flipping you over on all hours slapping your perky little ass.
“What the fuck Joel? How dare you!” You screamed out, I slapped your ass once again. I slammed back into you, pulling you against my sticky sweaty chest. I wrapped my hands around your hair pulling you back to me letting my lips trace your ear. “I’m not a fucking property.” You spat out, my cock rested in your pussy. “You might not be baby, but you’re still fucking mine.” I claimed, “Now fucking beg for me to move my fat cock in this tight little pussy.” You seemed frustrated now, anger rising in you. Which made me chuckle, you seemed to cute angry with my cock deep inside you.
“Fuck you.”
“I already am, sugar.” I slammed myself in and out, not moving feeling you squeeze my cock, I hummed against your ear, you bit back your own moans, “you can try and run princess. Even after this, you’ll crawl fucking back to me.” Your moans answered me, pushing yourself back to me your hips swayed. “Please use me, fuck me daddy.” Your words drove me mad, my hips showed no mercy fucking you pulling at your hair. My other hand drug down your lips wrapping around your throat keeping your body pressed up against mine. Our sweaty bodies collided like a perfect puzzle piece.
“Christ, baby. So fuckin’ tight” I hissed through clenched teeth, my hands that hold your hips tightening around your soft skin. “Livin’ up to those dirty lil thoughts you've been havin’ darlin’?” I whispered against your neck. You gasped, throwing your hands into my hair. “Yes fuck, you’re perfect.” You admitted, I chucked against your neck. “You’re my perfect little dirty girl.” I praised, you tightened around my cock, “You’re gonna cum around my cock baby, milk daddy you slut.” My words were filthy, bringing you to your high, your toes curled as your body shook with pleasure riding out your second orgasm on my cock.
You whimpered softly, the release your body is burning for. Your body gave out falling onto the couch, barely catching your breath. “Gonna come baby, fuck” I groaned, feeling my cock twitch letting my load inside you. I never came so hard, you were my favorite dirty little girl. For a moment, it’s quiet, both of us rested on the couch. Your hands draped over my chest, my fingers traced your back. “You rest now, don’t worry about anything else for now.” I advised, you barely could speak even find what to say.
Hours past, you drifted off to sleep. I knew you were gonna need to talk, I admitted secerts to you. I knew you though, you’d keep them. I finally got dressed making sure you were covered up and comfortable on the couch. Your cute soft breaths of a slight snore filled the room, I traced your cheek pushing your hair out of the way. You were mine, I knew you’d still wanna put up a fight at times but that’s what I was gonna love even more.
I gathered my things, night had finally took over it was very late. I hated to leave you but I knew be best for your head and thoughts to let you be for now. Causally looking back from the front door, you still slept peacefully. I kept my eyes on your sleeping state, moving the side table retrieving your skirt from that afternoon I had hid. Leaving your house, keeping the folded skirt closely to my nose still finding your scent.
Summary: (Based on the book You Shouldn’t Have Come Here by Jeneva Rose) Y/N is a city girl who grew up in the city all her life. Things become heated when she takes a vacation and stays in an Airbnb hosted by a stranger, Negan Smith. During her stay, many secrets unfold from both the city girl and the countryman.
Warnings: 18+!, mentions of a lot of smut!, kinda perv! negan smith!, age gap relations (reader is in later 20s, Negan is in 40s!), stalker vibes!, slight slow burn!- literally so smutty after the first chapter!, mention of murders!, mystery vibes!, mentions of cheating!, pet names!, southern accents!, mentions of Lucille!, mentions of death!, signs of dom negan!, signs of obsession!, toxic relations!, darker themes!- it's going to get bad!, reader has hair and is girly!, reader is a city girl!, signs of sub reader!, sexual tension!, family trauma!, drinking!, pet names!, third pov, and not fully edited! - warnings will be different each chapter.
A/N: You little nasty devils are in for a treat🍭… maybe even a few tricks up my sleeve😈😈 I hope you enjoy this series as much as I loved making it. Please note, this is a darker themed story. So readers be advised and take note to each warning. Thank you guys so much for the support, now on to the first chapter! Banners are by @cafekitsune
MASTERLIST
THE PERFECT WOMAN MASTERLIST
ONE
DAY ONE
The tall buildings.
The massive crowds.
The smell of the city life.
She was feeling overwhelmed and needed a break. Y/N realized that escaping city life for a few days was important.
A vacation, a small getaway.
Y/N booked an Airbnb in the countryside. From her research, it seemed to be a small town. She reserved a room hosted by Negan Smith, who appeared to be a nice guy looking to make some extra money. He aimed to provide guests with an “unforgettable country life experience.”
Not much was said about him in the description, but the place was beautiful. A small cottage house, sitting on an acre field of a farm. A huge barn, horses in the field. She’d never had that experience, Y/N imagined it being so quiet and cozy, she craved that. The young woman’s life has always been filled with chaos, maybe that was on her parents but she had to battle it out herself.
A fighter… Y/N was that for sure.
Y/N packed her things up in a suitcase. She barely knew how to pack for this trip. She tended to overpack for trips and knew this trip would be the same. Y/N didn't plan to go out much. However, she wanted to rest. Her job was becoming too much, and she was stuck in a small box for an office. Maybe that wasn't her typical dream job; it paid the bills.
The drive unfolded like a beautiful painting. Y/N delved deeper into the wooded area, which had towering trees dressed in shades of green. Sunlight filtered through her sunroof. With each mile, Y/N felt a sense of relief wash over her as if the burdens finally began to lift. She embraced this peaceful place, stepping away from the hectic rhythm of the busy highway she navigated daily.
Her friends buzzed with speculation about her daring choice to stay in someone else’s house, especially with them around. Negan was older, the kind of guy they warned her about—some creepy older man peeking at her. But Y/N brushed off their comments, a thrill coursing through her. Maybe it was the allure of escaping her routine, the unbeatable price of the cozy spot, or the excitement of having someone local to show her around the town. Whatever the reasons, Y/N felt a rush of freedom; she was sure this trip would turn out well for her.
After a few hours and podcasts, Y/N GPS led her to a long driveway and a cottage in the distance.
This must be the place, her home for the next 10 days.
Y/N felt a pit in her stomach, a warm and familiar sensation that perhaps she had experienced before. The rocks cracked beneath her tires as she drove down the long driveway. The driveway curved to the farmhouse, where a red truck was parked outside the front porch. A taller man wearing a dark flannel shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal some tattoos, caught her attention. She noticed him bent over on the porch, using a hammer to work on something wrapped around the house.
The man’s gaze followed Y/N, looking through her fish bowl-type windows easily to see in. Y/N got out of her car, giving the older man a warm smile. “Hi, you must be Negan. I’m Y/N.” Y/N confidently talked. First, her image of him changed by the minute, “I texted about an hour ago. I was close; sorry to pop up.”
Of course, he would be hot.
Yes, she saw his profile; it did not do him justice. Negan gave a slight smile, shaking her soft hands. A printed flower dress hugged her curves. Her hair was held halfway up, with slight curls at the end. Her lip gloss was shiny, and her lips were plump.
“That’s alright, darlin’. I’ve been doing a few touch-ups on the house here.” Negan responded, his eyes scanning over her. She didn’t look from around here; no one dressed like she did. No one looked like how she did. Negan felt a tingle up his spine; clearing his throat, his mind became fuzzy.
Fuck, not now… not yet.
“Your home is beautiful; I knew it was the perfect place for a peaceful rest,” Y/N confided, popping open her truck to get her belongings. Negan was not hesitant to help, carrying her suitcase and small bag.
“You don’t plan on moving in, do ya?” Negan picked on her. He could hear her giggle behind him as she slid her purse over her shoulders. Both walked up the porch, Negan pushing the door open for her, letting her walk in first. “I’m a girl; I tend to overpack.” Y/N took in the environment quickly. It was beautiful; it was an older type of home. Woods stairs greeted her when walking in to lead upstairs, the living room to the side, and a small dining room on the other. “You’ll be staying upstairs in the room to the left; I’m at the other end of the hall,” Negan clarified, setting her bags down in front of the stairs and going over the house with a house tour.
Entering the kitchen, Negan told her to help herself with snacks. He would go out and gather the groceries and such. He seemed like a gentleman, a little quiet and short with his sentences. “The basement had a major pipe bust, so it’s a hot mess. I may have some work to do there, but I keep it locked.” Negan motioned to a solid white door. He twisted the door, showing it locked.
"Don't worry, basements are creepy anyways." Y/N pretended to have shivers; Negan snickered, leading them back around up the stairs. Her suitcases were in his hand, opening her room up. "I hope it's enough for you, sweetheart. You seem like a little ole city gal." Negan teased back, and Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, shrugging. "You seem to think you have a read on me already, Negan." The way his name rolled off her tongue, he could even think he saw a glim in her beautiful eyes.
His head was starting to feel like scrambled eggs.
The room was quite cozy. The bed seemed to be a queen. The red sheets were perfectly made, with a matching comforter. The room even had a small vanity with a desk, including her bathroom. Y/N was glad to have this privacy. The view outside of her room was terrific, too. She could see all the horses and the green trees. It seemed so peaceful; it was what she needed."“I love the room; it's perfect"” Y/N approved; her dress spun along her hips as she looked around the room. Negancouldn'tt help but look at her tanned, toned legs; her hair looked so perfect. He wondered what it even smelt like. Probably the best flower he'd ever smelt.
His little flower…
Negan knew he should not be this infatuated with her so soon, but she was like a magnet drawing him in. “Thank you, darlin’,” It was silent; the air felt thick to Y/N. She even wondered if Negan thought it, “I’ll let you get settled in; I’ll be downstairs outside if ya need anything.” Y/N gave him a warm smile, watching him leave her alone and shutting the door behind. Y/N breathed out like she hadn’t been able to breathe before. She placed herself on the bed, pulling out her phone to text her arrival to her friends.
Fuck, no service.
Of course, there wouldn't be any service out here; she was nowhere. Y/N sighed, throwing her phone on the bed. She could go into town later, letting her friends know she was there, even if it was a day or two. Even so, possibly it was a good idea that she didn't have any service; a break from the media was also needed. Y/N let out a soft breath as she unpacked her clothes, carefully placing each item where it would fit best in her temporary home. The furniture around her had a rustic charm, each piece bearing the marks of age while still retaining beauty. The wallpaper, marked with delicate floral patterns, hinted at a feminine touch, which made her wonder if Negan had once shared this place with a wife.
He was an attractive older man, exuding an air of privacy. Curiosity tugged at her mind as she wondered whether he operated the Airbnb for companionship. Y/N laid a few books on her nightstand, making the space cozy. The silence was lovely, and the bay window provided the perfect spot for her reading. Sitting in that place with a book nearby, Y/N looked outside toward the field and spotted Negan.
Y/N watched him take and tend to the horses, putting each back into their pens. A cowboy topped his head now. Even from far away, he looked good, too good. It had been a while since Y/N had been with anyone; the last one cheated on her. Even after that, she went back to him.
Fucking Christoper.
Y/N felt the weight of loneliness pressing down on her like a heavy blanket. No matter how hard she tried to shake it off, she found herself drawn back to him, seeking the warmth of companionship. She longed for attention, for the gentle touch of another's hand—something, anything to break the solitude that wrapped around her like a tight rope. Perhaps it was a toxic craving, this insatiable need for connection, but it was simply who she was.
During the breakups, the absence of intimacy grew painfully noticeable; the memory of a comforting embrace lingered like an echo in her mind. This deep yearning made her feel vulnerable, exposing her heart. Each time she returned to Christopher, she knew she was risking it all, but the hunger for closeness was an ache she couldn't ignore.
The woman kept watching Negan closely, and her book stayed open in her hand. Negan closed up the horses, headed to the barn, and closed the door behind him. Y/N waited a moment before he came out, but he never did. She would read her book, keeping her eyes peeled. The sun was finally starting to go down, hitting hour two of reading and unpacking. Y/N knew she had not seen Negan leave that barn; maybe she was crazy and missed him leave. She had not heard anything or anyone coming back into the home. Y/N thought momentarily, biting her lip, interest slowly taking over.
Y/N quickly got to her feet, slipped on her shoes, heading downstairs. The house was quiet; it seemed like she was the only one there. She wondered whether she should keep waiting or check if something had happened. Walking outside, Y/N looked around. The air was still warm, which she loved. Although the city usually got cold at night, she appreciated the warm summer air. She began to explore, heading toward the back area of the barn.
A few crickets were heard, and the horses made their noises quietly. Y/N kept glimpsing around her surroundings, a few sticks breaking, making her nervous. It's just animals, calm down. Of course, the downside is living in the country, not just the pros. Y/N kept telling herself she was alone, but her anxiety kept at her.
Finally, she reached the barn and stopped in her tracks. She kept her arms close to her body, crossing them and digging her nails into her sleeve. "Are you okay?" Y/N called out, but no one answered—only the faint echo of her voice lingered in the air. Slowly, she walked towards the barn, which had remained closed for hours earlier. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and her body began to burn with tension. Y/N reached to pull on the locked barn door, but it wouldn’t budge.
Her eyebrows furrowed, and she turned around to see Negan standing close, making her jump with a gasp. "Shit, you scared me." Y/N panted, holding her chest, "Sorry, didn't mean to curse; not sure if that's your thing." Negan smiled, that same cowboy hat resting on his head, his flannel tucked into his jeans.
Man, what is it with a country man?
"Darlin', you haven't heard my dirty mouth yet. I didn't mean to scare you," Negan confessed. She knew he noticed her pulling at the barn; she just had to play along. "What are you doin' out?" Negan questioned, waiting for her answer, seeing how nervous she was.
He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, he wanted her to feel at home.
“I-uh, you’ve been gone awhile. I thought something might have happened.” Y/N was not lying; she wondered what was behind the barn door. “Just fixing some things; barn needs some repairs. Horses have a different temporary home for now.” Negan replied, wiping his hands with a handkerchief.
Well, I guessed that answered that.
Y/N felt her body relax, keeping her looks on his thicker hands, his tattoos peeking out, and a few on his chest. How the hell wasn’t this man married?
“How about we go out tonight? There is a bar in town. Best food around, get you a good ole country dinner.” Negan whipped up the suggestion; he seemed so chipper. Y/N smiled at the thought, piercing her lips, wondering what the harm would be in going. “Hm, now that’s a suggestion I can go for,” Y/N responded; Negan motioned to her dress. “Seems like you are already lookin’ good, darlin’.” Negan complimented; Y/N tried to hide her reddened face, “I’ll just clean up quickly before we go.”
“Sounds like a plan, cowboy.”
The bar was different.
Different than anything Y/N had ever been to.
The bar sign was still welcoming, with a neon sign above. The place was a wooden, two-story building with two decks. It was lit up, and people were hanging out outside on the decks, dancing and eating. Country music played loud from the speakers. Negan opened the door for her. The air was filled with the scent of whiskey and cigar smoke, which Y/N found weirdly comforting.
“No security?” Y/N asked; usually, the places she visited had a bouncer at the front. But this was no nightclub, some city club. Negan chuckled, his hand falling to her shoulder, helping her to the bar. His touch made her jump, still sending a chill down her spine. “Got a few bouncers, but this ain’t no exclusive nightclub, doll,” Negan remarked, feeling a few eyes linger on them. Negan knew people would stare for many reasons, of course. Maybe she wasn’t from around here; she didn’t look like it. Most girls in that bar wore jeans and boots; this woman wore this cute little dress. Fuck, Negan knew she was making the women furious, and the men head over heels. But no one would have her; if it were, it would be him. Negan had the small thought creep into his head.
The two made their way to the bar. Negan pulled out her seat for her and let her climb onto the bar stool. "Negan! Hey man, how are you?" a male behind the bar asked, seemingly close to Negan's age. His hair was a little more grey, with a mustache. "Same ole, same ole," Negan groaned, slapping the man's back with a hug, "Oh, this is Y/N. She is staying a few days on vacation. Y/N, this is Simon, the owner."
Simon looked stunned momentarily, holding it back with a smile and shaking the younger woman’s hand. “Vacation huh? Out here?” Simon chuckled, throwing a towel over his shoulder, “Not too much to do around here, sweetheart. Few shops, this is about the only bar in town.” Y/N shrugged; maybe she needed to be away from everything,
"I think that's exactly what I wanted; there's not much to do, "Y/N replied. Simon offered both of them a drink. Negan was surprised to see Y/N order whiskey, making his lips twig and smirking. "You don't seem like a whiskey kind of girl; I thought you get a fruity drink," Negan revealed, smirking her way, watching her sip the whiskey, quickly taking it back.
Why am I so fascinated by you?
Negan found himself questioning why he felt this way so soon. “I guess you don’t know as much about me as you thought,” Y/N teased, a flirty smirk on her face. They both laughed and continued their conversation. He wondered if bringing her here was a mistake. Negan knew he would be questioned, and she might face questions, too.
“Where are you from?” Negan questioned, longing to get to know her. “I’m originally from New York, but I’ve moved outside the busy area,” Y/N said, sipping her drink. “What made you choose me, huh?” Negan interest peaked. Y/N bit back her smirk, hiding behind her glass. “I-uh work in an office. The city life is too much. I needed a break from it all; your place seemed perfect.”
“I work at a high school, doll. I understand.” Y/N laughed, not seeing this man as a teacher or anything like that, “I’m a coach.” Y/N couldn’t help but imagine him in gym shorts, the way he would look too good. Why was she so captivated by him? Most of their conversations stayed normal, even so innocent. After a few drinks, an hour passed as Y/N dismissed herself to the bathroom. Negan couldn’t help letting his gaze follow her the whole way.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t the only one staring.
Simon threw a towel over his shoulder as he refilled Negan's glass. They sat in silence for a moment before Simon broke the tension. “Don’t you find that odd?” he asked. Negan raised an eyebrow, downing his drink and signaling for another refill. “Odd that a woman like that is hanging out with me?” Negan countered. Simon rolled his eyes and poured whiskey into both glasses.
“Well, that, and that she is alone. A girl like that is traveling all by herself..” Simon trailed off, “Staying with you by herself just seems off to me, man.” Negan didn’t think anything of it; it wouldn’t be the first time a woman had stayed there alone. “She seems harmless, but I think I could handle her.” Simon chuckled at his comment, seeing a shimmer in his eye. A shimmer he had not seen since he had his wife, Simon watched the younger woman emerge from the bathroom.
The atmosphere changes when she arrives, creating a different tension for Negan. There was a palpable layer of sexual attraction; he knew he shouldn't feel this way about her, yet something about her was undeniably captivating. Was it inappropriate? Yes, but Negan couldn't resist the pull she had over him. She was undoubtedly a walking temptation.
“Got you another one, sweetheart.” Simon gestured toward Y/N’s filled drink. “I’ll get you a table, so go grab some food.” With that, Simon left the two of them alone. Y/N still held her drink, her purse hanging off her shoulder. “How long have you and Simon been friends?” Y/N asked, sipping her drink as she looked at Negan.“I’d say we’ve been friends for almost ten years. We’ve been through some tough times together,” Negan confessed, extending his hand for her to follow him to a table. Y/N smiled, taking her drink in one hand and his hand in the other.
Negan pulled out a chair for her to sit across from her; Y/N glanced over the menu, seeing things she never even heard of. The only thing she recognized was the burgers and bar foods. Y/N wanted to try something new; she needed something new in life. “What do you usually get?” Y/N wondered, Negan already having his menu closed, his gaze watching her like a hawk. No matter what she did, she looked good. The way her manicured nails grazed the menu wishing it was his chest, his dick.
Fuck, he was an awful old man. A sick twisted one to be fair.
She seemed so curious and innocent, making Negan’s mouth water. Y/N had an entire course of five-star meals in front of him that he couldn’t have. “The fried chicken is amazing here; if you’re a meat person, that is.” Negan made her giggle, and her cheeks brightened pink. “Then I’ll get the fried chicken then.”
So obedient.
Y/N felt safe and comfortable being there, even with Negan. Although she had just met him, everything seemed to be going well. Something was intriguing about him as if he had secrets she longed to uncover. The way he moved, even just an inch, sent tingles down her spine and made her squirm. His commanding presence, as he ordered for them and led the conversation, put her at ease in this unfamiliar place. The night went smoothly; Negan ensured she had the best blueberry pie she had ever tasted before they left. Y/N felt she had never enjoyed a meal as much as that.
Perhaps this is the itch she has been craving?
DAY TWO
The following day, Y/N had her head buried deep in the pillow, pulling it closer to her. Her eyes adjusted to the bright room as the sun peeked through the bay window. It was pretty beautiful, unlike the black-out curtains at home. It was just a little past 8, and Y/N felt a chill in the air as soon as her feet touched the cool wooden floor. The smell of sausage soon reached her nose, stirring her awake. After throwing a robe over her pajamas and slipping into her house slippers, she headed downstairs, following the delicious scent that made her stomach grumble. The sizzling sound in the kitchen led her to find Negan cooking at the stove. He wore plaid pajamas that hung low on his waist and a black top. His toned arms were visible, each tattoo telling a different story.
Last night, Negan and Y/N returned to the cottage home. He ensured her bathroom had plenty of towels and was available for anything. Y/N never had someone be so generous; maybe it was the Southern hospitality. Y/N also couldn’t help but feel attracted to this man, and she felt something stir inside her. Like lustful dark thoughts, the sexual desire. Y/N showered that night, letting her thoughts wander as her hands roamed her body. She was washing her body with soap, trying to wash away her sinful thoughts. However, it only made it worse. Y/N’s eyes closed, and his face would sneak in, hinting at her hands being his instead. Those giant, thick fingers roamed her body.
“Are you hungry, darlin’?” Y/N jumped at Negan’s question. The man had not even turned around yet. She watched him flip the sausage, bending down to check the oven. Y/N watched him closely. She tried to fight the thoughts again; she couldn’t let her mind wander off again. “Uh, I’m famished, actually,” Y/N answered. Negan smirked, turning around with an apron on, which made Y/N snort out a laugh.
“Hot chef, huh?” Y/N gestured to the apron with big letters that wrote —“HOT CHEF🥵,” “With the actual emoji beside it? What are you 12.” Negan and her laughed. He playfully shrugged, removing the apron. “It was a gift, a gift from someone special.” Negan trailed off; the change in his voice made her eyebrows furrow with curiosity. Y/N shook off that curiosity, offering her help.
“Do you need help with anything?”
“Just finished, sweetheart, but you can get some plates and forks,” Negan gestured near the cabinets and drawers, “Left cabinet and left drawer.” Negan started to gather breakfast around the table; Y/N felt like a married couple. The thought tugged at her lip, and her cheeks blushed as she put the plates and forks together. “So what did Negan Smith whip up for us?” Y/N questioned, setting the plates around the table and sitting across from him.
“A good ole biscuits and gravy meal with some sausage,” Negan answered, offering to make her plate, which Y/N let happen, “I’m gonna make you love it down here, sweetheart.” Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes playfully. The food looked amazing; the biscuits looked crisped and buttery. The milky gravy smelled terrific, and everything seemed so perfect. “I love a man that can cook.” Y/N winked, taking a bite and moaning to the delicious food. Negan hated the way she ate food and turned him on; like, what the fuck is wrong with him? He tried to focus on his breakfast, letting the morning be quiet. Both had a cup of coffee, their breakfast being eaten in silence.
"You can cook, you seem to have everything together, and you're not bad-looking," Y/N started, earning a smile from Negan. How are you, like, not married or what?" The older male held in his laugh, wiping his smirk with his napkin, clearing his throat. He loved the confession, even if it wasn't much; it was music to his ears. Negan trusted this woman as if she wouldn't hurt a fly. "I had a wife," Negan confessed, sipping his coffee before continuing, "She died about eight years ago due to cancer."
“Oh, I’m a total asshole now.” Y/N burst out, making Negan laugh and shake his head. “It’s fine, sugar; I’m okay talkin’ about it with you.” Y/N eased up a bit, going back to her breakfast. After breakfast, Y/N offered to help with the dishes, and both continued with small talk. It felt like she had known this man forever, as long as his best friend, Simon.
“You just have Simon as a friend?” Y/N wondered about the other people in his life; she asked why she was so curious about him. “I have a couple of other small friends, and a few people buy things from my garden during the summer. I have a few exes, some not proud of.” Y/N laughed, agreeing with him. “Yeah, I know that feeling,” Y/N revealed, handing over a dried-off plate to Negan.
“Ah, bet you got some wild stories, sweetheart.”
Y/N's lips pierced, continuing washing dishes and handing Negan clean ones to put away. "I dated a guy, Christopher," Y/N confessed, letting her story out, "We dated for a long time, kind of off and on. I'd keep going back after he was a cheater." Negan nodded for a moment, both finishing up on the dishes.
“Sometimes you go back because it’s all you know, darlin’.”
His words hit the younger woman deeply as he understood her. Y/N's mouth parted, and she nodded. Their eyes were on each other, and she leaned against the counter as Negan was close to her, brushing against her arm. "How about I take you to see the horses? It's a beautiful day out to ride." Negan asked, breaking the tension he had to leave the house. Y/N smiled at the suggestion, loving the idea. "I've never rode a horse so that it would be exciting," Y/N admitted, sipping her coffee. Her gaze never left his, which made Negan squirm. It was like the tables were flipping on him. "Don't worry, doll, I will teach you." Negan winked.
Y/N headed upstairs to get dressed, barely knowing what to wear. She chose some blue jeans and a T-shirt. Maybe it was not her style, but Y/N knew a dress, skirt, or even her sweatpants would not be approved for such activities. Negan was already out in the field, grooming one of the darker chocolate brown horses. Most others ran around in the field; it was a beautiful sight.
"She's a pretty one." Y/N went up to Negan, a little hesitant,t being close to the horse. "Her name is Daisy. I've had her for years now," Negan replied, gently taking Y/N's hand on the horse's head. "She's harmless, sweetheart." His hand stayed with her, and Y/N eased up, giving Daisy small pets. Negan instructed, "The saddle on her has straps for your feet. Put your foot in the strap, pull up on the handle of her saddle, and pull yourself up." Y/N listened carefully, feeling a little nervous. Her hands grazed the saddle, taking hold of the handle; her foot slid into the strap.
“I’ll help ya, darlin’,” Negan suggested; his hands met her waist, helping her up; maybe it was an innocent suggestion. Perhaps it was an excuse to get his hands on her. Negan couldn’t help but watch her ass in those jeans when she pulled up, the way her breast had that perfect curve on top of her shirt. This woman was perfect to him. Y/N felt his big hands on the curves of her waist; she couldn’t help but love it. Something about him drew him in, curiosity?
Curiosity killed the cat, though…
She sat perfectly on the saddle, breathing loudly, holding the handle tight, and seeming tense. “Relax, darlin’, you’re doing great so far,” Negan encouraged. Y/N let her body relax, feeling Negan’s hand on her waist, his other holding hers along the handle. Just gently nudge with the rope, and she’ll go.” Y/N did precisely what he asked, feeling Daisy move beneath her, which made her jump.
Negan laughed at her reaction, watching the young woman closely. Y/N seemed so innocent,t so pure. She was beautiful, too; she looked even better riding the horse. He knew she'd show off in some cowgirl boots and shorts; he knew, however, that didn’t seem like who she was. She was different from the women around here, and Negan wanted that. No one else; it seemed it had to be someone like her. Y/N felt a sense of comfort, soft stroking the horse's hair as they walked the field. "Let’s take her back to the older barn; I will follow you. Just take it slow.” Negan claimed, following the trail beside her as she rode the horse.
"It's quite comforting," Y/N acknowledged, feeling her body relax as her nerves slowly began to lift. Negan chuckled, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans."Not just this but the whole place. It seems too good to be true," he said with a shrug and a smirk, glancing at her beneath his hat. “Perhaps, sweetheart, there are secrets about this town—about this place—that might make you think otherwise,” Negan confessed, his words piquing Y/N’s curiosity. She wondered what secrets this man might be hiding.
“What? This town haunted or something.” Y/N playfully joked, “Ghosts tend to stay around with unfinished business.” Negan went silent, his mind twisting and wondering what he should say. Should he tell her everything?
“Unfinished business, huh?” Negan gathered, snickering and pointing ahead at the older barn, “Let me help ya off.” Y/N’s hand met his shoulder and cupped her waist, helping her down. The younger woman couldn’t help but want his hands back on her, in many places on her body. Negan got Daisy back into the barn with the other horses. Both sat on the older stool; Y/N kept her eyes on the horses and the open field. Negan, however, had his eyes only on her. Y/N was perfect, the way her hair draped down her face, curling up on her perky breasts. Her lips, even the way she breathes, were perfect.
“You don’t get lonely out here?” Y/N questioned, turning her gaze to Negan. “Sometimes being a lone wolf is nice,” Negan admitted. Deep down, he acknowledged that he felt a void—a missing piece of having someone with him, someone to care for and love. Y/N sensed more in his eyes, as if he were revealing a more profound truth.
“The lone wolf doesn’t ever get lonely?”
Negan tensed, feeling her finger graze his, their hands closer, both cupping the bench underneath them. Her Light pink manicured nails against his fingers made him wonder how they would feel elsewhere. It was such a light touch, but fuck, it kept repeating in his head. Even a lone wolf gets hungry like every other wolf.
A predator hunting its prey.
"You may be on to something, sweetheart." Negan lips pierced, feeling a certain tension between them, "I'd say I've enjoyed your company so far." Y/N wondered what she should do next and what he would do next. The older male seemed closer now, pointing to the open field leading into the woods. His other arm moved behind her, feeling his arm graze her back. Y/N's toes curled in anticipation, and her nails scraped the wood. "It's so peaceful like, you said, so quiet." Negan words seemed suggestive, and his voice seemed more profound, "The woods stretch for miles and miles. Can't hear a sound." Y/N's mouth parted, and his fingers trailed up her spine. The touch sent a chill up her spine; she could stop him, but why would she?
Y/N couldn’t help but think that she seemed darker; she even thought it was almost sinister. The idea ran out of her mind as his fingers traced her spine, and their eyes stayed on the fields. Her throat tightened, fighting not to shift in her seat. The way he was making her feel was something she hadn’t in a while, and he enjoyed every moment, smirking to himself, feeling like he was breaking her. “Couldn’t hear any yelling..” Y/N pondered, his hands twisting her hair, pulling through his fingers. “No, darlin’, couldn’t even hear yelling,” Negan confessed, intrigued each moment. Y/N couldn’t help the urge anymore, his thighs closing together, feeling her body ache. Y/N felt her clit ache, fuck she shouldn’t do this.
This is exactly what was not supposed to happen.
The older man felt it, too; this woman made him crave her like a hot five-star meal. Sweet as an apple pie sitting on a windowsill, Y/N was someone he wanted to worship. A woman like her deserved everything, and he was ready to give it to her. Negan tried to make her his, no matter the cost. He knew he shouldn't have these thoughts; he barely knew her. However, something about her played on repeat in his mind. "Not even screams, huh?" Y/N teased, and Negan chuckled, shaking his head as he was drawn into the moment. Their gazes met, and they saw a spark in each other's eyes. Y/N struggled to fight off the urge building within her, an itch becoming too much to ignore.
A loneliness she had felt for so long seemed to be fading away. Y/N knew it might sound pathetic to some, but she didn’t want to dwell on that anymore, even if it was just for a few days. Negan seemed perfect for that distraction; maybe he even shared her thoughts. He watched her closely as her eyes peeked out from beneath her eyelashes. His hands tucked her hair behind her ears, tracing down to her cheek, cupping it softly before brushing against her lips. "We could test the theory if you want to, Y/N," He suggested. The way he drew out his words felt profound. Just as his lips were about to crash onto hers, his phone rang, interrupting them. The tension between them shattered, leaving a slight sting in her chest. Negan grunted, pulling his jeans down as he retrieved his phone from his pocket and answered the call.
Y/N exhaled deeply, running her fingers through her hair. Her thoughts were in disarray; what on earth was she doing? The younger woman couldn't determine whether her actions were right or wrong. She barely paid attention to Negan's conversation on the phone. "Yeah? Shit," Negan cursed, rubbing his face. He glanced over his shoulder, quickly averting his stare back. "Yeah, I'll be there soon." He hung up the phone, sighed, and turned to her. Y/N's face was flushed, and she appeared embarrassed. Negan realized he probably looked just as flustered.
"Uh, sorry about that, sweetheart. I have an old friend whose car broke down, and I need to go help them out," Negan conceded. Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to find the words to respond. "I—uh, I understand," Y/N responded, getting up from the bench to follow him back to the house. They were now a few feet apart, not as close as they had been moments ago. Y/N wondered how to break the tension and change the subject. "Are you and this old friend close?" Y/N asked, clearing her throat and trying not to make too much eye contact with the older man. Negan sniffled, rubbing the scruff on his face. The tension was still high for him; he wanted to grab and kiss her right there. Negan couldn't help but feel obsessive and possessive. He had never felt this way toward a woman so strong, not even Lucille.
What was this woman? Who was this woman? What were her secrets? Did she have any dark ones? Of course, she has them; no one that is irresistible doesn't.
"Guess we must be; she is Lucille's old best friend. I help her out from time to time after her husband passed." Negan confessed that Y/N felt a pit in her stomach. It was instead an old, scared feeling that made her feel slightly uncomfortable from the innocent confession. Y/N nodded, piercing her lips and scrunching her eyes from the awkwardness. Negan let her go first up the porch, his hands barely touching her back. Both stood on the wooden porch, Negan kept his hands resting in his pockets his eyes never left hers.
The older man exhaled as he opened the front door for her, then reached for his keys hanging beside it. "Feel free to roam around, darling," he said. Negan was hesitant to leave her; her eyes seemed to plead with him, drawing him in. "I'll be back, so don't go too far," he winked before stepping outside. She heard his truck starting up, leaving her alone in the house.
Y/N knew at that moment that this was going to be different. Negan knew then that he was utterly infatuated with Y/N and would do anything to have her, no matter the cost.
Summary: Y/N is a young naive girl by day, just attending her college classes. To make money by night, she works at the most famous night club in town as a dancer. Keeping her identity on the low, one of her professors shows up one night becoming a regular. Unaware of her identity, Y/N soon knows she must face the consequences with Mr. Joel Miller.
Warnings: 18+!, smut!, S/N- means stage name!, age gap relations (reader is mentioned to be a little older in college/ mid 20s, Joel is 40s!), professor x student!, reader is a exotic dancer!, joel is unware of readers identity- at times!, dancing!, stripping!, body shots!, cursing! drinking!, professor joel miller!, unprotected sex!, fingering!, slight dom reader!, oral sex- m receiving!, rich Joel!, dirty talk!, teasing!, innocent reader?👀, public sex?, lots of pet names!, reader wears makeup/hair can go up!, reader is in college!, body worship!, slight daddy kink!, mentions of parties!, rough sex!, dom Joel!, and not fully edited.
A/N: You guys voted for this… just so you know.😉 I did get some inspiration from other posts I've seen around, not on this platform. For now, I hope you enjoy these little one-shots I am giving out since getting back into writing. Dividers are by @cafekitsune! Thank you guys so much! 🫶🏼 enjoy the story😳👀…
MASTERLIST
A woman's body holds immense power when used correctly. That's the beauty of being a woman. Unfortunately, many only realize this potential when it's too late. A woman's body is a sacred temple deserving of worship and praise. Treat it like a delicate flower and give her the respect and recognition she deserves.
Y/N lived by those words. She looked at herself in the mirror daily, telling herself she deserved the best, someone who worshipped her. Maybe that's why she loved dancing so much, the way it made Y/N feel. It was a type of confidence that no one could describe, even if she were hidden behind a mask.
When the nights of Dallas, Texas, started, opened a nice exclusive nightclub where only people with expansive checks and Mercedes could see the inside. They served the best drinks, the best music, and had the best dancers. Most girls kept their identities low, having completely different names in the club. When Y/N took the job over a year ago, leaving the small strip joint she was at, it all seemed like a dream to her. Her friend, Blaire Coleman, was the owner of the nightclub. She saw potential in Y/N, a girl who needed her help. Y/N struggled with bills and college being alone; that's all she had, along with a few friends.
Throughout the year, Y/N danced on her weekend nights. She even created a stage name, S/N. She would change her hair through wigs, and every night, she would wear a different costume. It made Y/N feel good about herself. No one knew of Y/N's secret, especially at her college.
Y/N was entering her last year of graduate school at her local college outside of the city. She was known as the girl who never went to weekend parties, always passing her tests like a teacher's pet. Everyone saw her as the good girl, someone who probably had no idea what liquor tasted like or what a man's touch felt like. Even her professors saw her as a quiet, naive woman who kept to herself and did well in her classes.
A few professors, like Mr. Joel Miller, saw her that way. He was rich and a successful professor who was head of the writing department. Joel Miller taught a few of her classes through the years, always quiet, keeping her eyes on him. Joel felt that there was something more behind those innocent eyes. Her eyes initially drew him in, but her smile when he cracked a joke in class kept him interested. Joel regretted asking her for favors, but he had to be around her. He knew he shouldn't think of a student this way, though.
He had to get his thoughts elsewhere.
Joel had been struggling with his sex life after his divorce; the whole dating thing was not working. Tommy, his brother, sometimes tried to help by hooking him up with women, but Joel wanted something much more. Then Tommy had the wildest idea of carrying Joel to a nightclub, which was exclusive, of course. The older male was against it at first; he knew Tommy would set him up with a lap dance or something even more. Tommy knew how to get his brother reeled in when telling him it had the 'best bar in town.'
One weekend, after classes started, Joel and Tommy went to the nightclub. They sat at the bar, keeping their eyes peeled. The lights were dim, and the music was booming, with people on the dance floor. Some dancers were on tables up high for all to see. On the main stage, however, there was a woman in red. Joel's eyes were instantly drawn to her as he sipped his whiskey.
The red leather skirt hugged her hips well, and her thighs seemed to demand attention. Joel's eyes scanned over her perky breasts, which were accentuated by her black leather top with a zipper running down the middle. He had never seen leather look so good on a woman; even her leather mask perfectly matched her deep red wig.
Joel was practically undressing her with his eyes; he had to figure out who this perfect woman was. Tommy noticed how his brother was awed over this woman, watching her drift off the stage as Joel's gaze followed. "Y'know, man, she is a beaut. I've seen her 'round here before." Tommy proclaimed, sipping his drink. Joel snarled at him. “Already getting jealous, brother? Go on, talk to her. Heard her name was S/N." Joel's lips pierced at the thought, watching her skim through the crowd across the bar.
"I'm not up for a dance, Tommy," Joel rasped, adjusting himself back into his seat. His watches lingered at times back to the woman in red, this S/N. His fists balled up, watching men go up to her, watching her hands on these other men. Why was this stranger making him feel this type of jealous rage?
The older man confidently gave in, finishing his drink; striding towards the woman in red, who was back on the stage. Her body gracefully dipped down the pole as Joel watched her every move, approaching the stage with a self-assured longing for her attention. When Joel locked eyes with her, he was sure he had seen them before. Behind the mask, her bright, shiny eyes exuded confidence. Joel yearned to uncover more; he hungered for it.
Who in the hell was this woman?
Y/N was having a regular Saturday Night for herself, with men buying her drinks, giving her incredible tips, and showering her with compliments. She'd never expected to have her professor's eyes on her while on stage, especially how he looked at her. The way Joel stared at her is the way Y/N always wanted him to. She shouldn't feel like this about her professor, though. It was a dangerous game, but Y/N wanted to play it. Y/N kept her eyes on Joel through the many eyes already on her. Joel wanted the way her hands trailed up her smooth legs to the curves on her body; this woman was exactly what he needed.
A distraction.
Her body hit every beat of the music; her hips moved perfectly while her hands ran through her hair. Y/N lips curled, sliding down the pole, sending a wink Joel's way as the music ended. He followed her like a lost puppy as she led them behind the curtains to a hallway filled with rooms. Y/N gestured for Joel to follow into one; she closed the curtains behind them. No words had been exchanged yet, just a hot, thick room filled with sexual tension. She knew Joel had no idea who she was; she had him where she wanted.
“Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, darlin’?” Joel whistled, soaking every inch of her body in. “So I’ve been told,” Y/N smirked seductively. Turning around, drawing closer to him, she pushed him back into the soft chair behind him. Her action made Joel chuckle, and Y/N straddled his lap. Joel’s hands rested on the top of her hips, giving them a tight squeeze, which made her giggle.
“Your eyes. I felt like I’ve seen them before.” Joel replied, letting one of his hands tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear; Y/N knew she couldn’t reveal her identity. Not yet. At least she had to have some fun.
“Don’t stare too long; you might fall in love,” Y/N whispered, drawing near his lips and grazing them on her own. Her hands trailed up his covered chest, which made Joel groan. “Might be a little too late for the baby.” Joel moaned, and Y/N took his hands, having him touch all of her curves.
The music was low and sensual. Joel breathed in her scent, resting the tip of his nose on her shoulder. His eyes were closed, soaking in this moment, and he felt drawn to this woman. “What's your name?” Y/N questioned, playing it off smoothly. Her nails traced his neck, moving her hips slowly off of him. Joel's cold stare never left hers, her body trailing to the pole in the room. Giving it a couple of spins, she keeps her eyes onto Joel dancing to the music.
“Name’s Joel Miller. I heard you go by S/N, such a hot fuckin’ name.” Joel complimented, but he shifted uncomfortably. Y/N noticed his member through his tight jeans, which made her giggle. “Hm, I bet you say that to all the girls. I must say you’re my favorite customer by far.” Y/N was not lying; he had not even paid for her dance yet.
She didn’t care, he honestly didn’t have too. And what she wanted to do to him, he did not need to pay for.
“I bet you say that to all the men.” Joel flirted, flashing her a smirk; he watched her every move, every hip thrust, every time she spun around that pole. She knew what she was doing, it’s like she was a natural. Y/N returned to Joel’s lap, resting his hands on her back. “Don’t let security see those big hands all over me,” Y/N teased, her nose brushing over his. She could smell his cologne mixed in with a hint of whiskey. The older man soon had his hands cupping her cheeks, squeezed together in warm hands, letting his fingers graze over her masked eyes.
“You’re something else, darlin’,” Joel admitted, his lips longing to be on hers. Y/N felt the tension thicken; she had imagined this before. Joel had no idea who she was; if she removed her mask now, he'd probably run to the hills. Y/N could read his eyes and see right through what he wanted.
He wanted her.
“You’re something else, too, Joel.” Y/N had this man memorized like he was already wrapped around her finger. Her hands trailed up his thighs; Joel groaned out, letting his head fall back. Y/N turned her body around, arching her back and giving him a lap dance. Y/N’s fingers ran through his curls, down his opened button shirt. Joel was toned. Her hands grazed his bare shoulders, and he felt goosebumps grow from her touch. The younger woman giggled, her lips inches away from his.
Y/N pecked his nose, retreating off his lap. Joel looked like a mess. His forehead was sweaty, his hair was messy, and he had a massive boner. “I think that’s enough for today, Mr. Miller.” Y/N slipped out, casually playing off her red face with a smile. Joel was too caught up to catch Y/N’s slip-up; he should have recognized that voice.
Mr. Miller. That sweet angel voice he loved in class was so much to hear. Fuck Joel couldn’t think about her again.
“I hope you become a regular, Joel?” Y/N asked with a smirk watching Joel take out his wallet. Six hundred crisp dollar bills fit through his thick fingers, and his smirk made goosebumps rise.
“Oh, you know it, sugar.”
Over the next month, Joel visited her every weekend. He was utterly infatuated with this woman yet didn't even know her real name. His thoughts often drifted to the mysterious woman during his teachings, causing him to distance himself from his student, Y/N. Mr. Miller no longer stared at Y/N as much or conversed with her. However, at least he gave her attention on the weekends, even though he was still unaware of her true identity... he was still obsessed with Y/N.
Joel had yet to tell Tommy of his return to the nightclub; he couldn't tell his brother he was obsessed with someone he had just met, let alone an exotic dancer.
As October approached, Joel paid his regular visit that Friday night. It was a busier night, and there was more of a line he had to wait in, but he sure as hell knew it would be worth it. His eyes scanned around, looking for his girl. Joel knew whoever she was; he wanted her to be his.
He then saw her.
Joel found it effortless to spot her in a crowd; she was exquisitely beautiful. The young woman appeared to be conversing with another dancer, each holding a drink. Y/N was dressed in a tight-fitted black skirt, a black lace top to match, and a few shiny diamonds on the straps—the fishnets she was wearing made Joel want to rip them off. Her mask seemed to be sparkling when the lights hit her.
Joel growled to himself at the sight of her.
The older male made his way over. When approaching, he fought his hands to her waist as the other woman she was with eyed him closely. “Excuse me, ladies, may I ask to borrow S/N?” Joel politely asked, his voice music to Y/N’s ears. He noticed her smirk, the way her eyes glistened at the sight of him. Joel knew she was excited to see him as if she had a plan for him.
“I think we can adjust that for you, dear,” Y/N responded with a giggle, excusing herself from one of her co-workers; her hands trailed down Joel’s arm to his thicker hands, urging him to follow her. Y/N approached the bar, keeping Joel’s hand with hers.
The bartender quickly attentive to her.
“Whatcha need S/N?”
“Bottle of the best whiskey, Blaire.” Y/N sent a wink to her, in which Blaire sent one back, handing the bottle over to her, “Two shot glasses as well.” Joel felt like a kid at Christmas. He was so excited, fuck, he really shouldn't be.
“Anything for my best dancer.”
Joel and Y/N continued their way back to the private rooms. Joel had the bottle in hand, including the two smaller shot glasses. The loud nightclub soon echoed through the hallways they retrieved in, and slower, sensual music filled their ears. “So, Blaire, the bartender back there, is she the owner?” Joel’s curiosity got the best of him, so Y/N closed the curtain off.
“Yeah, she treats us girls real nice.” Y/N answered, letting the whiskey bottle chill in the ice bucket resting on the table, “I thought I could surprise my favorite customer.” Joel’s lips curled in fascination, watching the younger woman's move. "And what would that be, darlin'?” Joel asked, he held her hands where she had them resting on his shoulders. Y/N’s hands locked with Joel’s, trailing down his covered chest to his semi-hard member, tightening his jeans.
Y/N giggled, cupping his member which he groaned, placing small kisses on her neck, letting his hands leave hers, squeezing her curved hips. “You're already hard?” Y/N teased; his laughter sent a chill down her spine. “What are ya wanting from me, sweetheart?” Joel knew what the woman wanted, and it was him. “I think you and I both know what we both want,” Y/N spoke, feeling his hands trailing down her back in small circles.
Y/N wanted to scream out, rip off her mask, and take this man… but would he still want her? Y/N was fucked up thinking what she was thinking…
Joel let his fingers trail over her mask; Y/N tensed up, taking his hands back into hers. “If you're a good boy, I promise to take it off next time I see you.” Y/N flirted, let her lips drag down Joel’s, placing his hands onto her ass which he gave a squeeze with a growl in her ear, Y/N roughly kissed Joel’s lips; his hands roamed her body, feeling every square inch of her.
“What does little miss S/N have in that pretty little mind of hers?”
They were both out of breath, staring into each other’s eyes. Joel felt like he had known this woman all his life, as she had already been a part of it for so long. Y/N smirked, letting herself off his lap, in which he moaned, losing that contact with her. She grabbed the whiskey bottle and poured two shots, giving one to Joel. “You’re killin’ me, honey,” Joel admitted, Y/N sipped the chard whiskey. It usually wasn’t her choice of drink but she knew it was Joel’s favorite.
“Have you ever done body shots before, Joel?” The younger woman asked. Joel raised his eyebrows, his lips piercing with amusement. Y/N climbed up on the table stretching out.. Her black top rose up, she laid the glass on her stomach. Joel’s head tilted, biting his bottom lip watching her every move.
God, she looked so hot laid out for him like this.
Joel bent down, his thick fingers trailing up hee thigh. Y/N bit back a gasp, her lips nearly drawing blood. His eyes never left her body, trailing up to her gorgeous face. The man’s lips trailed the shot glass turning the whiskey shot up, accidentally spilling some on her stomach. Y/N giggled. “Better clean it up before it gets sticky, Joel.” The way his name slipped off her tongue so perfectly, her laughter making him warm inside. Her laughter seemed familiar, something Joel had felt before.
Joel let his tongue trace up her belly licking the whiskey off causing Y/N to whimper. Her thighs closed together, wiggling in place to raise up slamming her plump lips onto his. Joel groaned from the contact, letting her back on top of his lap pushing him to lay down. Y/N’s actions was like a hungry animal, she wanted him badly.
Joel’s hands found their way up her thighs, letting the fitted skirt lift, his fingers running over the fish nets. Joel pulled at the panties she had beneath. Y/N sighed in pleasure, feeling his fingers brush over her covered clit. “You give all your customers this much treatment?” Joel questioned, chuckling feeling her fingers trace his bare chest. His shirt was now unbuttoned running her fingers up his toned chest, to slowly remove the shirt. Y/N smirked to herself, she hardly let any man put hands on her during a dance let alone this.
Joel was just special.
“I’ve never had a customer quite like you,” Y/N admitted, Joel’s lips teased her neck running his tongue up her collarbone. Joel couldn't wrap around his head why this woman was making him crazy, a wild animal. “Let me take care of you,” Y/N purred. Joel growled under his breath, cursing.
They were both down bad.
Y/N cupped Joel’s hardened member, unzipping his jeans and pulling out his long cock. “Baby,” Joel could not even make a full sentence anymore. He felt her hands stroke his cock, twitching in her hand making her giggle. Y/N knew she was wrong for this, she may even feel guilty later.
Joel had no idea one of his students was doing this, one he liked; someone he was trying to avoid now was about to suck his dick. The younger woman sat between his legs, letting her tongue slowly tease his tip. Y/N thought she almost could taste his precum. “Fuck.” Joel grunted, wrapping his fingers through her hair.
“You’re so pretty like this, baby.” Joel vocalized, which gave Y/N even more confidence. Y/N made eye contact with Joel, his grip tightened pulling her hair a bit which made her moan around his dick. The older male got closer and closer, twitching in her mouth and warning her before releasing his load into her mouth. Joel let his fingers drag down her lips as she swallowed.
“Good girl.”
Y/N would right now do anything for this man, those words had her locked in so submissively. Joel patted his lap for her to sit.
“Come sit on daddy’s lap.”
“Daddy, huh?” Y/N laughed, wrapping her legs around him as his lips smashed onto hers. Joel playfully slapped her ass causing her to giggle. He repeated his action, dragging his lips down her neck up to her earlobe. “Oh you know you love it.” Joel had his now cupping her cheeks, letting their lips move in sync once more.
Joel felt like they were made for each other like he longed for her his whole life. Joel ripped at her fishnets, ripping them down causing Y/N to gasp. “How dare you?” Y/N playfully pushed him back, Joel grabbed her by the cheeks bringing her closer, making her whimper.
Oh fuck, he is good.
Joel had her panties off in seconds, throwing the lace he had his fingers now playfully tapping her clit, making her moan. Fuck, Joel loved her little whimpers and moans she made, just for him. “Please Daddy, fuck.” Damn, her voice could make him come right now. Joel could feel his cock practically popping out of jeans.
Joel pulled her near his cock teasing her clit. “You sure you want this? Once I start, I’m not gonna be able to stop.” Joel confessed, sending a chill down Y/N’s spine. Her eyes closed, and she dreamed of this moment.
An itch she had for so long, an itch they both have shared.
“Yes, Joel. I want you, I need you to fuck me” Y/N begged, Joel teased her entrance making her whimper. “Ya thought you had some control, huh baby?” Joel playfully asked, he knew in the beginning she had him wrapped around her finger. But now it was the opposite.
“Take control, Joel. Make me yours.”
That sentence sent him over the edge, music to his ears. Joel gripped the base of his cock, lining himself up against her wet pussy. He started pushing his cock into her in which they both gasped. Fuck, Joel knew she was probably tight but not this tight. The way she was squeezing his member could make him come in seconds. Y/N moaned in his ear, shifting her hips on his cock and starting to ride him slowly.
“Fuck honey, you’re something else, S/N.” Joel was such a wordy character today, which made Y/N feel good, made her feel special. “Ride my cock, you’re such a sweet girl.” Joel confessed, “Such Y/N was getting louder with her moans, but the club music outside the walls covered them.
It was only her and Joel.
The way he talked to her, the way his hands were all over her. Y/N was a moaning sweaty mess along with Joel. Her hips moving faster, hopping on his cock their thighs clapping together. Joel pulled her dress down, basically ripping at it. He took her perky tits into his mouth. His tongue dragged down her hardened nipples, and Y/N pulled his curls feeling his cock twitch in her.
They both were close.
“Joel please,” Y/N pleaded, like he could read her mind. Joel still inside of her had her legs wrapped around her placing her down on the couch and thrusting into her. Her head was thrown back, his hands wrapped around her throat fucking her tight hole. Joel could feel her walls tighten, he knew too they both ached to come.
“Come for me, baby. Show me how pretty you come.” Joel’s words were like a trigger, letting herself come around his cock. Joel knew watching her come was the best sight he had ever seen. He hoped he could see it again and again. Y/N shivered underneath him, feeling Joel come inside of her, groaning out falling on top of her not putting too much of his weight on her.
Both a sweaty, breath mess they just laid there for a moment. Joel placed small kisses on her shoulder, tracing small circles on her back.
“Guess we have a little dirty secret to keep, sweetheart.” Y/N giggled in his ear.
“Our dirty little secret.”
That following week, Y/N was back in her classes. It was getting near midterm season, which was her least favorite time of the year. She was packing up, leaving her last class of the day.
Joel’s class.
That night with him did end well, Joel did say he would be back she knew he would always come back. Y/N was one of the last ones leaving the class, Joel was watching her a bit more today. Having her writing report in his hands, he tempted not to even bring it up just to leave it be. Joel had been avoiding her, he needed to let the school crush go.
Joel sighed, standing from his desk. “Ms. L/N?” Joel’s words made Y/N jump, “Can I speak to you for a moment?” Y/N threw her backpack around, nodding, heading down to his desk. Joel handed her a folder containing the writing report she turned in last week.
Y/N was in his writing class, the report was to write a quote you live by, something that could even be your life motto perhaps. “Yes, Mr. Miller? Was something wrong with the report?” Y/N curiously asked, opening the file and reading over the words. Joel’s lips pierced, tensing up a bit from her presence. Even giving him a slight chill, he feels like he felt before.
Like a deja vu moment.
“Your report, well uh-” Joel stuttered with his words, Y/N fought back a smirk. Kept her poker face on showing pure innocence, “Your report well, rather good and unique. Could be found inappropriate.”
The words going through his mind again… A woman's body holds immense power when used correctly. That's the beauty of being a woman. Unfortunately, many only realize this potential when it's too late. A woman's body is a sacred temple deserving of worship and praise. Treat it like a delicate flower and give her the respect and recognition she deserves.
Y/N shrugged, giving him a warm smile. “I’m sorry, Mr. Miller. I just was being honest about my life motto.” Y/N confessed, closing back her file, “I hope that doesn’t mean I get a bad grade.” Joel slightly snickered smiling at her, shaking his head. “Not this time Ms. L/N. Just heads up next time that’s all, be our little secret, right?”
Y/N smirked, nodding and turning away to head out of his classroom. Before walking out leaving Joel stunned making his stomach drop, she turned on her heel.
Summary: Y/N found out her boyfriend, Ben, of two years, cheated on her. After recently breaking up, she goes by to drop off the rest of his stuff. While he isn't home, his dad is. Some hidden feelings decide to resurface, no matter how bad it could be.
Pairing: (Negan Smith x Reader) exboyfriendsdad! Negan Smith x reader (3rd POV)
Warnings: 18+!, smut!, age gap! (reader age is in her 20s, negan is in his 40s), reader is in college grad!, exboyfriendsdad! x reader!, rich Negan! oral sex!-f receiving, rough sex!, slight daddy kink!, cheating!, tipsy sex!, sexual tension!, drinking!, break ups!, drinking games!, Negan had a wife but name isn't mentioned!, slight angst!, pet names!-Negan calls reader a slut!, reader wears dresses!, mentions of divorce, praise kink!, cursing!, dom! Negan, jealous tendencies!, dirty talk!, choking!, sub reader!, fluff!, and not fully edited.
A/N: boarders are by @saradika-graphics! Starting back writing, I decided to write a one-shot before continuing my series!! Thank you all so much for your support! I love you all so much! Check out my master list for some new series this summer! Now, enjoy the story! I apologize for taking a long break; I have struggled with multiple things. All I could think about was writing, but I couldn't do it. I wish I could explain more, but I don't think I can put into words as much as I want to. Just honestly… thank you!
“They say I did something bad. But why's it feel so good? Most fun I ever had and I'd do it over and over and over again if I could. It just felt so good.” - I Did Something Bad By Taylor Swift
It wasn't the end of the world.
Y/N kept telling herself that. He was just some stupid boy who made foolish choices. Ben was a wild one that’s for sure, maybe she should have seen it coming.
Of course, he would cheat. Don’t most of them do anyways? Most men are pigs, all men have it in them.
Maybe it sounded sexist, or Y/N was upset, lashing out with her words. She remembered screaming, tears welling up in her eyes as she repeated those reflections to Ben, whom she had just caught with another woman in their home, in their bed, which they were supposed only to share. Someone he’d met, a senior at his old college.
Bastard…
She kicked him out of the apartment that same night, a place they had called home for a year. Screaming so loud, neighbors were spying on them, which pissed off Y/N more.
Noisy ass neighbors…
Y/N kept herself away for a few days, returning to work and going home, trying to gather the rest of Ben’s things he had left behind day by day. He was rushed out, of course, having his stuff mainly thrown at him out the door. She emptied the 2nd wine bottle by the end of the week, having dinners by herself. Ben did try to contact her a few times with lame-ass apologies and backhanded gestures that raised more red flags for Y/N. She wondered what had gone wrong with Ben; his father seemed like an excellent man.
Negan Smith owned a big bank in town and was known as one of the wealthiest people in the city. Maybe Ben let that go to his head. It wasn’t like he was making the money; his father helped him through anything and everything.
Maybe that’s where it went wrong. Shit, she shouldn’t be thinking her ex’s father is a better man than him… perhaps she should.
Y/N was never always handed things to her like Ben, who spoiled her at the beginning of the relationship. Looking back now, those gestures seemed to fade away, staying in more, just causally becoming just roommates who fucked occasionally. She cringed at the thoughts now. Maybe she’d never been gratified with their sex life, but he was sweet until the end. Becoming unsatisfied with it all, maybe she was blind to the situation, but over the tw weeks, it all unraveled for her.
Maybe it was the late-night cries of not being good enough or the many TV shows she binge-watched about people finding love. It sounded dumb, but maybe Y/N was finally catching onto everything and blocking Ben at the end of the month, gathering his things to drop off at his father's. Ben mentioned staying with him until finding a place; she wondered how Negan felt about it.
Y/N met Negan at a Christmas party he was throwing at his mansion, he lived outside on the country most of the town invited. It was Y/N’s and Ben’s first year togrther. When meeting him, she could see the resemblance Ben had of him. But something about Negan, seemed to get to her more. She knew it was wrong, she just tried to shake it.
It was just an intrusive thought; anyone would think it. The compliments he gave her that night were innocent… “The red dress compliments you well, doll. My son didn’t tell me you were a beauty.”
But made her think naughty things, stuff she shouldn’t think about her boyfriend’s dad. Maybe Y/N was just as bad as Ben for these thoughts. It was the way he smirked, too, that damn smirk. The way his tongue grazed over his lips. It wasn’t just that night, too; she found herself lost in thoughts of him.
The get-togethers, the times they stayed nights with Negan after drinking, waking up the following day and seeing him in his PJs, and the pool parties were the worst. Having to see Negan shirtless, the way his tattoos aligned with his body so well—some even had age to them—and the way his wet hair hung down his face, letting the drips of water slide down his chest were the worst.
He was like a walking sex-god..
All of this was bad.. So bad…
What probably was worse was how well they got along and could talk for hours. Her favorite memory was one of the last ones she had with Negan before all this happened with Ben. A couple of weeks before the breakup, they celebrated the fourth of July and had a BBQ at Negan’s. It was smaller than his usual get-togethers, mostly everyone in the pool out back. Ben had too many beers that day, lying in his old room upstairs; Y/N looks back then, seeing the signs clear on her face that their relationship was over by then.
They sat in the kitchen together for hours, just talking, maybe reminiscing once more before everything fell to shit; Y/N hated how she’d miss Negan. Little thoughts crept into her head, too. She’d miss him more than Ben. She’d no longer have late-night conversations with Negan in the kitchen, see him on vacations, or be around him. She wondered if that’s why she stuck out with Ben so long, for Negan.
How pathetic of her…
Y/N knew Negan would now only live in her memory, just like Ben. The thoughts of Negan kissing her, pleasing her, and fucking her like she'd always wanted would always still be thoughts; she knew she should miss those from Ben, not crave them from his father.
She really was just as bad as Ben, huh?
Y/N threw the last box of Ben’s stuff in her trunk; she was heading to Negan’s to drop off the rest of his son’s belongings. She texted Ben, who said he would be there to get them for her and to say goodbye to each other one last time.
Y/N knew it would be her goodbye from Negan too; maybe what Ben did to her brought all this up about Negan to her face, how she felt about him. This older man, her ex-boyfriend’s dad, was someone she’d be interested in. She was an awful person. Hell, he would laugh in her face about it.
The drive was not far from her place, about 30 minutes outside of town; she pulled up the long driveway leading to Negan’s countryside mansion. He had a few horses outside the barn; the land was acres long. The house had some age, which made it so beautiful. Negan had done a few renovations to the house himself, building around the deck and keeping up with the paint jobs.
Y/N slammed the trunk of her car, carrying the two boxes of Ben’s to the front door, ringing the doorbell that stretched across the house.
The summer air was humid, and her sundress crunched up a bit as the boxes lay against her chest. Her heart dropped when Negan answered the door, quickly offering to take the heavy boxes from the girl. “Y/N? Shit- let me help you!” Negan seemed stunned, laying the boxes inside the house, wiping his hands on his jeans, and glancing over the younger woman.
She looked a little paler than the last time he’d seen her. Still beautiful as hell, though, he told his son Ben he scored well with her. When he met Y/N, he found her attractive and even found himself attracted to her. After his divorce, he did not date much. Y/N kept him entertained, though; they got along well. Negan had to bitch at Ben sometimes about how he would be, treat Y/N. He knew he raised him better than that, especially not to cheat on any woman. When Negan discovers the truth about what Ben did, he is boiling mad; he doesn’t do it to any woman.
He did it to Y/N.
Negan cared about Y/N. Maybe too much for her to have dated his son, but he knows she deserves to be treated like the only woman in the world. Negan almost could have beaten his son’s ass, nearly not allowing him to stay in his home, but he was his son after all. Ben tried to devise excuses, even throwing the blame on Y/N. Trying to say that she never wanted anything to do with him anymore, and no matter what, Negan was not buying it. He gave his son hell almost every day; if he was going to stay with him, he was going to keep doing it, too.
“Negan, Hi—is Ben here? He said he would be in to get the rest of his things.” Y/N asked, taking in all of Negan she could. He had a black button shirt with a few buttons open. The sleeves rolled up perfectly, revealing his tattoos. His darker jeans also complimented him. He looked so good in darker colors. Negan’s beard was whole again; he’d recently shaved it the last time she saw him.
She joked on how he looked better with a beard, he sure as hell did.
Negan looked confused, knowing their son went on with his friends for the night since he had been staying there. Y/N noticed the look in his eyes, and sighing, she rolled her eyes in pure annoyance. She should have fucking guessed. “He isn’t here, is he? Not too brave enough to face me?” Y/N scoffed, soon relaxing. She was talking about this man’s son, “Fuck- sorry, I shouldn’t say things like that around you.” Negan laughed, shaking his head, moving to the side, offering her to come in with his hands.
“Guess he is, sweetheart. He told me you weren’t coming until tomorrow.” Negan informed. Y/N hesitated for a moment to step in. Maybe it was an awful idea… an awful good idea.
The younger woman stepped in. He shut the door behind her. She noticed his half-whiskey glass resting on the staircase pole as he reached for it. “Come into the kitchen, sweetheart. We can chat for a bit before you go.” Negan’s offer was music to her ears. She shouldn’t want this, but she was not about to miss this opportunity.
She entered the kitchten, which Negan pulled out a half-full bottle of his whiskey. Y/N snickerd in return to his gesture as he pulled out a second glass. “I have to drive back home y’know?” Y/N lips curled, sitting at the counter across from him. Negan leaned against the counter facing her, pouring him a glass waiting on her approval do top hers.
“You could stay couple hours, doll. Hell, maybe Ben show up have your little confrontation.” Negan playfully lifted his eye brows with a wink which made Y/N giggle. She kept her eyes down for a moment feeling her face heat up, Y/N said fuck it and shook her glas for him to fill.
Taking a quick shot, Y/N stiffened from the bitter taste of the whiskey, the alcohol making her stomach instantly warm. “I'm taking it. That's been a rough couple of weeks?” Negan could tell the color in her eyes wasn't there anymore; her paler skin gave her away. She had been inside mostly. However, Negan, making her laugh, brought some of that color back, and he was starting to realize it. He knew he shouldn't have invited her in; she definitely shouldn't have decided to stay. Negan knew Ben would be out all night; he wouldn't come back.
Why the hell was Negan doing this? Why was he being this dumb for some chick?
“It has been a lot of back and forth.” Y/N sighed, sipping her drink, shaking the ice, “A lot of eye-opening moments, that's for sure.” Negan kept silent for a moment; he was mainly disappointed in himself. He should have been a better father to Ben and not spoiled him as much. Not giving him everything he wanted, Negan thought he was a good father—how Ben was made him question those thoughts. “I'm sorry for what happened; I thought I raised the boy better,” Negan confessed, downing his drink and shaking his head. He was disgusted by his son.
Y/N smiled at the older male, placing her hands on his, which made him twitch. Negan's eyes stayed connected to hers, and their breathing almost matched. “I hope you don't blame yourself for the way Ben is; it's not your fault.” Hearing her say that made part of him feel warm inside like she was telling the truth. Another part kept telling him that he could have done something.
“You cant make a person, Negan. Kids have to grow up, you men take forever doing that.” Y/N joked, rolling her eyes playfully pouring herself another glass. Negan chuckled at her words, watching her actions. Anything this woman did could make him hard, the way she moved the way she talked made him crave her more.
Maybe he was the wrong person, too, after all? Wanting to do this to his son's ex-girlfriend. Negan wanted to try and make her his, call her mine, make everything better for her, and treat her better.
A couple of hours later, the bottle and a box of crackers were nearly empty, which they opened up mid-conversation. They were now sitting at the kitchen counter beside each other, laughing and cracking up about the most random things. Negan and Y/N talked about many things throughout a couple of hours of her stay, from the relationship with Ben to old memories of themselves. Negan loved seeing Y/N being happy; he knew she had not had that in a while.
Maybe he could fix things after all, better for him.
Y/N felt tipsy; she felt good on the inside, like an itchy bubble inside of her. She knew she could be drinking more, but she had to stop, knowing she would head home later that night; Y/N couldn't stay here. She couldn't let her thoughts win. She'd catch herself while they talked, her eyes moving to his lips and his hands grazing her. She'd even catch Negan’s eyes lingering; maybe it was the liquor talking, but maybe Negan felt something for her.
The tension felt higher in the room as if it was closing in on them. Y/N has had this feeling before with him; being alone with him sometimes made her feel claustrophobic. Right now, the room felt more closed in than ever, the conversation taking turns at times.
“We have been talking for hours, sweetheart.” Negan glanced over at the time on the oven. It had to be close to three hours of them talking and rambling on and on. Y/N could not believe how fast time flew, she had so much fun just talking to Negan.
Maybe she had just been lonley, maybe they both have been.
“I hope I didn't keep you from anything. I can go here soon; I should be sobered up.” Y/N started to get up. Negan grabbed her wrist gently, still startling Y/N. Her eyes met his, and he stood slightly to reach her sti, keeping his distance and removing his hand. “Fuck- I didn't mean- I shouldn't have done it that way, Y/N.” Negan slurred his words, stumbling to make a sentence. He acted like some high schooler trying to ask out a girl for the first time.
His words confused Y/N; her eyebrows furrowed, and his touch sent goosebumps down her spine. It was so quick that she ached for more. “What I am trying to say, sweetheart, is you can stay a little longer.” His words almost sounded sinister, and the look in his eyes darkened.
This is it; she should run now. Y/N knew a mistake was going to happen, but it felt so good despite the bad feelings.
“I guess I could if I'm not intruding,” Y/N gently sat back down, her words more suggestive than before. Her eyes showed hope in it, something darker… sinful. Negan's lips curled up into a smirk, his eyes scanned over her body. Y/N kept her posture and head up. She seemed confident that the nerves screaming inside her were not showing on the outside. “You’re keeping a good ole man company, doll. No harm done.” Negan tried to persuade Y/N that these were all innocent acts and friendly conversations. That's what it always had been; it had to stay that way.
“No harm done,” Y/N repeated, taking a deep breath in her eyes, which never left Negan’s face. His eyes could slowly eat her alive; the way he was looking at her made Y/N feel exposed. Negan moved his hands underneath the stool she sat on, pulling her closer to him, which made Y/N gasp, letting her eyes trail down to his lips to his hazel eyes again. Maybe it was the drinks they had; perhaps this was all going to happen anyway, but Y/N was realizing slowly her sinful fantasies of Negan were coming true.
“Since you're staying longer, sweetheart, how about we play a game?” Negan implied, his head tilted in curiosity at her reply. He was steadily getting closer to her lips by the second. Y/N kept her eye contact through her long lashes. She could feel sweat forming on her forehead. “What-what kind of game?” Y/N questioned, her throat started to tighten.
In an instant, Negan pulled back, clapping his hands together playfully. “A drinking game!” Y/N felt like the trance she was in was broken. She barely saw Negan head back over to his liquor cabinet, pulling out a few small Jack Daniel shots.
What kind of other game was Negan playing with her? He had to be teasing her now.
Negan laid the smaller shots down before them, sitting beside her again. “How are we gonna play this little game of yours?” Y/N teasingly asked, following his actions, unscrewing one of the shots. “I know you played this little game in college; never have I Ever?” Y/N's eyebrows furrowed; why would Negan want to play this? Y/N giggled at Negan’s game of choice; why was this turning her on?
“Why in the hell would we play that, huh?” Y/N questioned; Negan’s face seemed serious, pushing his chair closer to her. She gulped a bit, scanning over the older man. His eyes seemed glossier than before, still having the golden brown tint she'd always loved.
Just like Ben’s… fuck Ben—
why should she care?
“I think there are some things we wanna know about each other, hun,” Negan acknowledged, shooting her a playful wink. She squirmed a bit, which made Negan laugh to himself- he loved it. Teasing her, maybe that’s what he should do after the past couple of years. Teasing him at times, Negan was reading her like a book now. “If you’ve done it, you sip your shot,” Negan clarified the rules, which he knew Y/N probably knew.
“Since it was your idea, you start us of Negan.” Y/N loosened up in her seat, smirking his way. Negan's eyes sparkled like a light bulb going off. “Never have I ever…” Negan pondered momentarily, rubbing the scruff on his face, “Never have I ever dated someone older than me.” Y/N's lips pierced, taking the shot between her lips. Ben was a year younger than her; maybe that was her mistake dating someone younger. She dated someone five years older than her before, and Y/N was usually attracted to older men.
Y/N shivered, taking a deep breath and shaking it off quickly. “Who knows, I might go back to the older men.” Y/N flirted, her foot grazing Negan's ankle, and pulled back to make it seem like an accident. “Seem to take care of you better, doll? May cause more bad than good for you; some of those older men are creeps.” Negan implied, smirking as his hands crept closer to where he rested.
The tension was making the room warmer, but her body felt cold. “I'm guessing it's my turn.” Y/N pushed her hands away from the counter, the tension growing in the room. Negan was even shifting in his seat, which had Y/N fighting back a smile. “Never have I ever cheated on someone.” She was curious to see.
“You're a funny one, sweetheart.” Negan divulged, letting out a laugh. I've never cheated, not even once, but my wife did.” Y/N was taken aback, having a sense of guilt bringing it up. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean-” Negan stopped her, shaking her head with a smile. “Its not big deal, Y/N. I can't believe after some of our conversations it hasn't came up. Or even Ben saying anything to you.”
When Ben started dating Y/N, his mom had already left, but Ben never said why. Of course, she wouldn't ask Negan why she left. “Ive always still wondered if Ben is on her side.” Negan confided, taking his shot letting his emotions run. Y/N listened to him even if Ben was, they were both in the wrong.
“I was spending more time with work than her…are family.” Negan sighed, cracking another one and setting it to the side. Y/N felt bad for him, she knew no matter what she didn't need to cheat. “Thats still no excuse, Negan. She could have talked to you.” Y/N gave her words of wisdom, letting her hand rest on his arm. His pulse quickened to her touch, Y/N’s eyes were calling him.
Negan felt that… this was going to be bad.
“We both still have a shot.” Negan gestured to the full Jack Daniel shots; his lips curled like he had a motive. “Hit me with a good one,” Y/N had her shot ready in hand and her smirk. Negan had to throw her off, make her squirm again, and get her exactly how he wanted her.
“Never have I ever wanted one of my ex’s parents.” Negan was blunt watching Y/N’s confidence drop. Her face reddened; the grip on her shot could have almost shattered it. It was silent; the air thickened his body, growing close to her. Y/N felt glued to her seat, her gaze fixated fully on him.
“I don't—I don't… I can't answer that.”
Negan laughter was darker and more profound, deep, which scared her and turned her on. “You don't have to answer, princess. Just take the shot if it's true.” Negan gestured to her shot in hand, patiently waiting. Y/N kept her looks on Negan, taking the shot down while her eyes never left. While slamming the empty bottle down, Negan’s lips parted, pushing himself onto her. His hands wrapped around her cheeks, and he slammed his lips onto hers. They both tasking the whiskey on their lips, mixed with Y/N’s lipgloss.
She tasted as sweet as he thought.
Y/N moaned at the contact, keeping her lips moving with his, his fingers gripping her hair, making her gasp. His tongue grazed her bottom lip, meeting her own. She pulled away, out of breath, the guilt rushing over her. “We can’t do this, Negan.” Y/N tried to catch her breath, the alcohol starting to take some effect, “I need to go home.” Y/N stood up, feeling the room spin because of how quickly she stood from her seat.
Negan grabbed her wrist, twisting her around, which made her whimper as his nose rested on hers. Y/N's eyes stayed parted, fighting back the urge she craved.
“Don’t go—you can’t go,” Negan begged, his hands trailing up her arms slowly, feeling her goosebumps form. He sounded desperate. “No matter what you want, sweetheart, please stay in the guest room.”
“It’s bad what I want,” Y/N admitted, her eyes closed and her legs like jello. “It feels good, though, right?” Negan teased, making everything much more dangerous. He chuckled as his hands made it to her neck, wrapping both larger hands around, which made Y/N whimper. “Admit it, baby. It’s gone too far now to go running.”
Baby.. fuck.
Everything suddenly was forgotten. Just this moment was all that mattered. None of the aftermath mattered; they both knew what they wanted.
Negan grabbed her waist, picked her up swiftly, sitting her on the counter. His lips brush down the veins of her neck. She was having his hand wrapped around her throat, slamming her lips onto his. Y/N lips were hungry, moving in sync with her hands resting on both sides of his face. He kept his lips moving with hers; whimpers and moans filled the room from both. Her hands flew to his black button-up, popping them open.
Sneaking her hands down into his half-opened shirt, Negan got chills from her touch, feeling her excellent warm hands.
He dreamed of this moment.
“You drive me insane,” Negan growled, his hands trailing up her dress, squeezing her hips roughly. Y/N squirmed from the contact, gasping out, his other hand taking her face, her cheeks squished between them. When she met Negan's gaze, his eyes were darker and filled with all his sinister thoughts about her.
“I don't know what you're talking about.” Y/N innocently batted her eyelashes, and a smirk grew on her face, which didn't last long when Negan pushed her back on the cold counter. Y/N couldn't see him anymore, only feel his hands pulling down the panties she had on. Negan chuckled, placing kisses on her thigh. His palms were rough as they moved across her bare legs tracing small circles back up to her bare cunt. Y/N wanted to close her thighs together, so she cried out, having Negan’s hands squeezing her thighs open.
“If it's so bad, why does it feel so good?” Negan questioned her and himself. “It feels so wrong but right,” Y/N confessed, trying to catch her breath. She could feel his breath down her thighs, getting closer to her aching clit. Y/N tossed her head back in pleasure, her hands running through his hair.
“Fuck, I didn’t expect you to be this wet baby,” Negan whispered as his fingers went through her wet folds, having her squirm. “Please,” Y/N begged, the ache in her voice showing how much she wanted it. Negan was enjoying every second of it, too; he knew he might never have her again.
He was going to make the best of it.
“Tell me what you want; I feel like I know.” Negan blew air onto her clit, making her gasp and pulling on his hair which made him growl. His nails dug into her hips, pulling her closer, giving one sharp lick up her pussy.
“I want you, Negan, please.” Y/N sounded so needy; she had never wanted anyone like this before. “My son didn’t take care of ya?” Negan inquired casually, giving her wet folds a lick along, running his fingers around, “That’s a shame, doll; I guess I’ll have to.”
Hearing him mention Ben, she came back to reality for a moment. How could all this go? No matter what, even if she stopped now, it would end badly even if this never happened again.
“Negan, I-“
He cut her off by entirely going down on her. Negan was eating her out like a hungry animal. Y/N’s eyes rolled back, and she could see stars. She was a moaning mess, her thighs squeezed around his head. Y/N had her legs wrapped around him, pushing his head deeper into her. “I love to hear your little whimpers and moans, baby,” Negan admitted. She could feel the pit in her stomach grow.
Y/N’s toes curled, feeling her stomach tighten with his movements. “Negan- I’m close.” Y/N rose slightly from the counter to watch Negan, who instantly met her gaze. “Yeah, sweetheart?” Negan continued as he slowed down to look at Y/N, two of his fingers sliding easily into her cunt. Y/N almost couldn’t hold herself up anymore, feeling her walls closing around his thick fingers. Y/N felt her legs shaking, her back arching off the counter, coming around Negan’s face.
Negan grabbed her by the waist, pulled her up, and placed small kisses on her neck. “Wrap around me," he commanded. She trusted him, having her legs around him. Negan had his hands around her, playfully squeezing them, taking her off the counter to his room. His lips moved in sync with Y/N busting through his bedroom door, throwing her onto the bed.
She had never been in his room; it was so plain it suited him well. Negan had now removed his shirt, her hands exploring his inked body. Y/N pulled at his belt buckle, which made him smirk at her desire. His pants lowered, and he reached beneath her dress for the feel of warmth between her legs. Y/N’s panties were in the kitchen still; his member teased her entrance.
“I want you, I want you mine.” Y/N gasped as he entered her, his words having her head spinning; Negan's thrusts were rough, throwing one of her legs over his shoulder and going deeper in her. Their sweaty bodies collided as her fucked her deep into the mattress; Y/N’s nails dug into his back, making him groan. “Havin’ an old man work for it, huh?” Negan playfully teased, his breathing increasing with his pace, “You’d rather fuck Ben’s old man instead of him, huh?”
Y/N could only whimper; how could she even answer that? Why was this turning her on more? Negan slapped her ass, “Answer me, baby. You like being a little slut, huh? Daddys little slut.”
“Fuck.” What in the world has gotten into Negan? His words were so dirty and wrong, but fuck, she loved it.
“Yes- I do.”
Usually, sex with Ben wasn’t adventurous. If that’s what you’d call it. It was mostly the same each time; it was getting old. No one had given her this rush time before, even before Ben. “Look at me,” Negan insisted, holding her by the neck. Their eyes stayed on each other as he fucked her tight cunt, “I want you to come for me, baby, and I am gonna come with you.”
His pace was sloppier; feeling her wet walls squeeze his member was making him closer by the second. “I’m coming, Daddy.” Negan knew he didn’t want this to end; he wanted more each day like she was a drug to him, his little drug that he wanted to be high on each day.
He knew this was only the beginning.
The following day, Y/N’s head felt heavy. The mattress beneath her seemed softer, and the room was brighter. She gasped, jerking herself up, realizing she wasn’t in her room or her home.
All the memories of last night flooded her head, she kept the sheets clinched to her bare body. “Sleeping beauty is finally awake!” Negan chirped, having a cup of coffee in his hand and handing it over to her. Y/N almost felt ashamed and embarrassed to be naked in front of him. She shouldn’t be after last night…
“Need any medicine?” Negan asked, sitting on the foot of the bed, his eyes trying to search what she was feeling. “I’m okay, thank you.” Y/N smiled, trying to gather her thoughts together. “We uh- we shouldn’t have taken it to that level, Negan,” Y/N admitted that she knew no matter how much she wanted it again, they didn’t need to.
It couldn’t happen.
“You’re saying you regret it, darling?” Negan knew her answer with a smirk plastered on his face. He stood up, getting near her again, feeling the thick air.
It was just like a cycle.
Negan’s lips brushed against hers, leaning himself on the bed she laid in. Y/N's mouth parted, trying to find the urge to speak. “N-no, I don’t.” Y/N knew she couldn’t lie to Negan; her fist dug deeper into the silk sheets. He drawled a breath in, letting out a slight laugh, pulling back from her, playfully patting her cheek.
In a moment of being stunned, she watched Negan causally getting ready to leave the room again. “How about you come down for breakfast?” Negan urged with a welcoming smile, with glasses resting on his nose and plaid pants. He stopped in his tracks, turning around on his heels.
“Oh yeah, you might wanna get dressed. Ben’s downstairs.”
Summary: Y/N found out her boyfriend, Ben, of two years, cheated on her. After recently breaking up, she goes by to drop off the rest of his stuff. While he isn't home, his dad is. Some hidden feelings decide to resurface, no matter how bad it could be.
Pairing: (Negan Smith x Reader) exboyfriendsdad! Negan Smith x reader (3rd POV)
Warnings: 18+!, smut!, age gap! (reader age is in her 20s, negan is in his 40s), reader is in college grad!, exboyfriendsdad! x reader!, rich Negan! oral sex!-f receiving, rough sex!, slight daddy kink!, cheating!, tipsy sex!, sexual tension!, drinking!, break ups!, drinking games!, Negan had a wife but name isn't mentioned!, slight angst!, pet names!-Negan calls reader a slut!, reader wears dresses!, mentions of divorce, praise kink!, cursing!, dom! Negan, jealous tendencies!, dirty talk!, choking!, sub reader!, fluff!, and not fully edited.
A/N: boarders are by @saradika-graphics! Starting back writing, I decided to write a one-shot before continuing my series!! Thank you all so much for your support! I love you all so much! Check out my master list for some new series this summer! Now, enjoy the story! I apologize for taking a long break; I have struggled with multiple things. All I could think about was writing, but I couldn't do it. I wish I could explain more, but I don't think I can put into words as much as I want to. Just honestly… thank you!
“They say I did something bad. But why's it feel so good? Most fun I ever had and I'd do it over and over and over again if I could. It just felt so good.” - I Did Something Bad By Taylor Swift
It wasn't the end of the world.
Y/N kept telling herself that. He was just some stupid boy who made foolish choices. Ben was a wild one that’s for sure, maybe she should have seen it coming.
Of course, he would cheat. Don’t most of them do anyways? Most men are pigs, all men have it in them.
Maybe it sounded sexist, or Y/N was upset, lashing out with her words. She remembered screaming, tears welling up in her eyes as she repeated those reflections to Ben, whom she had just caught with another woman in their home, in their bed, which they were supposed only to share. Someone he’d met, a senior at his old college.
Bastard…
She kicked him out of the apartment that same night, a place they had called home for a year. Screaming so loud, neighbors were spying on them, which pissed off Y/N more.
Noisy ass neighbors…
Y/N kept herself away for a few days, returning to work and going home, trying to gather the rest of Ben’s things he had left behind day by day. He was rushed out, of course, having his stuff mainly thrown at him out the door. She emptied the 2nd wine bottle by the end of the week, having dinners by herself. Ben did try to contact her a few times with lame-ass apologies and backhanded gestures that raised more red flags for Y/N. She wondered what had gone wrong with Ben; his father seemed like an excellent man.
Negan Smith owned a big bank in town and was known as one of the wealthiest people in the city. Maybe Ben let that go to his head. It wasn’t like he was making the money; his father helped him through anything and everything.
Maybe that’s where it went wrong. Shit, she shouldn’t be thinking her ex’s father is a better man than him… perhaps she should.
Y/N was never always handed things to her like Ben, who spoiled her at the beginning of the relationship. Looking back now, those gestures seemed to fade away, staying in more, just causally becoming just roommates who fucked occasionally. She cringed at the thoughts now. Maybe she’d never been gratified with their sex life, but he was sweet until the end. Becoming unsatisfied with it all, maybe she was blind to the situation, but over the tw weeks, it all unraveled for her.
Maybe it was the late-night cries of not being good enough or the many TV shows she binge-watched about people finding love. It sounded dumb, but maybe Y/N was finally catching onto everything and blocking Ben at the end of the month, gathering his things to drop off at his father's. Ben mentioned staying with him until finding a place; she wondered how Negan felt about it.
Y/N met Negan at a Christmas party he was throwing at his mansion, he lived outside on the country most of the town invited. It was Y/N’s and Ben’s first year togrther. When meeting him, she could see the resemblance Ben had of him. But something about Negan, seemed to get to her more. She knew it was wrong, she just tried to shake it.
It was just an intrusive thought; anyone would think it. The compliments he gave her that night were innocent… “The red dress compliments you well, doll. My son didn’t tell me you were a beauty.”
But made her think naughty things, stuff she shouldn’t think about her boyfriend’s dad. Maybe Y/N was just as bad as Ben for these thoughts. It was the way he smirked, too, that damn smirk. The way his tongue grazed over his lips. It wasn’t just that night, too; she found herself lost in thoughts of him.
The get-togethers, the times they stayed nights with Negan after drinking, waking up the following day and seeing him in his PJs, and the pool parties were the worst. Having to see Negan shirtless, the way his tattoos aligned with his body so well—some even had age to them—and the way his wet hair hung down his face, letting the drips of water slide down his chest were the worst.
He was like a walking sex-god..
All of this was bad.. So bad…
What probably was worse was how well they got along and could talk for hours. Her favorite memory was one of the last ones she had with Negan before all this happened with Ben. A couple of weeks before the breakup, they celebrated the fourth of July and had a BBQ at Negan’s. It was smaller than his usual get-togethers, mostly everyone in the pool out back. Ben had too many beers that day, lying in his old room upstairs; Y/N looks back then, seeing the signs clear on her face that their relationship was over by then.
They sat in the kitchen together for hours, just talking, maybe reminiscing once more before everything fell to shit; Y/N hated how she’d miss Negan. Little thoughts crept into her head, too. She’d miss him more than Ben. She’d no longer have late-night conversations with Negan in the kitchen, see him on vacations, or be around him. She wondered if that’s why she stuck out with Ben so long, for Negan.
How pathetic of her…
Y/N knew Negan would now only live in her memory, just like Ben. The thoughts of Negan kissing her, pleasing her, and fucking her like she'd always wanted would always still be thoughts; she knew she should miss those from Ben, not crave them from his father.
She really was just as bad as Ben, huh?
Y/N threw the last box of Ben’s stuff in her trunk; she was heading to Negan’s to drop off the rest of his son’s belongings. She texted Ben, who said he would be there to get them for her and to say goodbye to each other one last time.
Y/N knew it would be her goodbye from Negan too; maybe what Ben did to her brought all this up about Negan to her face, how she felt about him. This older man, her ex-boyfriend’s dad, was someone she’d be interested in. She was an awful person. Hell, he would laugh in her face about it.
The drive was not far from her place, about 30 minutes outside of town; she pulled up the long driveway leading to Negan’s countryside mansion. He had a few horses outside the barn; the land was acres long. The house had some age, which made it so beautiful. Negan had done a few renovations to the house himself, building around the deck and keeping up with the paint jobs.
Y/N slammed the trunk of her car, carrying the two boxes of Ben’s to the front door, ringing the doorbell that stretched across the house.
The summer air was humid, and her sundress crunched up a bit as the boxes lay against her chest. Her heart dropped when Negan answered the door, quickly offering to take the heavy boxes from the girl. “Y/N? Shit- let me help you!” Negan seemed stunned, laying the boxes inside the house, wiping his hands on his jeans, and glancing over the younger woman.
She looked a little paler than the last time he’d seen her. Still beautiful as hell, though, he told his son Ben he scored well with her. When he met Y/N, he found her attractive and even found himself attracted to her. After his divorce, he did not date much. Y/N kept him entertained, though; they got along well. Negan had to bitch at Ben sometimes about how he would be, treat Y/N. He knew he raised him better than that, especially not to cheat on any woman. When Negan discovers the truth about what Ben did, he is boiling mad; he doesn’t do it to any woman.
He did it to Y/N.
Negan cared about Y/N. Maybe too much for her to have dated his son, but he knows she deserves to be treated like the only woman in the world. Negan almost could have beaten his son’s ass, nearly not allowing him to stay in his home, but he was his son after all. Ben tried to devise excuses, even throwing the blame on Y/N. Trying to say that she never wanted anything to do with him anymore, and no matter what, Negan was not buying it. He gave his son hell almost every day; if he was going to stay with him, he was going to keep doing it, too.
“Negan, Hi—is Ben here? He said he would be in to get the rest of his things.” Y/N asked, taking in all of Negan she could. He had a black button shirt with a few buttons open. The sleeves rolled up perfectly, revealing his tattoos. His darker jeans also complimented him. He looked so good in darker colors. Negan’s beard was whole again; he’d recently shaved it the last time she saw him.
She joked on how he looked better with a beard, he sure as hell did.
Negan looked confused, knowing his son went on with his friends for the night since he had been staying there. Y/N noticed the look in his eyes, and sighing, she rolled her eyes in pure annoyance. She should have fucking guessed. “He isn’t here, is he? Not too brave enough to face me?” Y/N scoffed, soon relaxing. She was talking about this man’s son, “Fuck- sorry, I shouldn’t say things like that around you.” Negan laughed, shaking his head, moving to the side, offering her to come in with his hands.
“Guess he is, sweetheart. He told me you weren’t coming until tomorrow.” Negan informed. Y/N hesitated for a moment to step in. Maybe it was an awful idea… an awful good idea.
The younger woman stepped in. He shut the door behind her. She noticed his half-whiskey glass resting on the staircase pole as he reached for it. “Come into the kitchen, sweetheart. We can chat for a bit before you go.” Negan’s offer was music to her ears. She shouldn’t want this, but she was not about to miss this opportunity.
She entered the kitchten, which Negan pulled out a half-full bottle of his whiskey. Y/N snickerd in return to his gesture as he pulled out a second glass. “I have to drive back home y’know?” Y/N lips curled, sitting at the counter across from him. Negan leaned against the counter facing her, pouring him a glass waiting on her approval do top hers.
“You could stay couple hours, doll. Hell, maybe Ben show up have your little confrontation.” Negan playfully lifted his eye brows with a wink which made Y/N giggle. She kept her eyes down for a moment feeling her face heat up, Y/N said fuck it and shook her glas for him to fill.
Taking a quick shot, Y/N stiffened from the bitter taste of the whiskey, the alcohol making her stomach instantly warm. “I'm taking it. That's been a rough couple of weeks?” Negan could tell the color in her eyes wasn't there anymore; her paler skin gave her away. She had been inside mostly. However, Negan, making her laugh, brought some of that color back, and he was starting to realize it. He knew he shouldn't have invited her in; she definitely shouldn't have decided to stay. Negan knew Ben would be out all night; he wouldn't come back.
Why the hell was Negan doing this? Why was he being this dumb for some chick?
“It has been a lot of back and forth.” Y/N sighed, sipping her drink, shaking the ice, “A lot of eye-opening moments, that's for sure.” Negan kept silent for a moment; he was mainly disappointed in himself. He should have been a better father to Ben and not spoiled him as much. Not giving him everything he wanted, Negan thought he was a good father—how Ben was made him question those thoughts. “I'm sorry for what happened; I thought I raised the boy better,” Negan confessed, downing his drink and shaking his head. He was disgusted by his son.
Y/N smiled at the older male, placing her hands on his, which made him twitch. Negan's eyes stayed connected to hers, and their breathing almost matched. “I hope you don't blame yourself for the way Ben is; it's not your fault.” Hearing her say that made part of him feel warm inside like she was telling the truth. Another part kept telling him that he could have done something.
“You cant make a person, Negan. Kids have to grow up, you men take forever doing that.” Y/N joked, rolling her eyes playfully pouring herself another glass. Negan chuckled at her words, watching her actions. Anything this woman did could make him hard, the way she moved the way she talked made him crave her more.
Maybe he was the wrong person, too, after all? Wanting to do this to his son's ex-girlfriend. Negan wanted to try and make her his, call her mine, make everything better for her, and treat her better.
A couple of hours later, the bottle and a box of crackers were nearly empty, which they opened up mid-conversation. They were now sitting at the kitchen counter beside each other, laughing and cracking up about the most random things. Negan and Y/N talked about many things throughout a couple of hours of her stay, from the relationship with Ben to old memories of themselves. Negan loved seeing Y/N being happy; he knew she had not had that in a while.
Maybe he could fix things after all, better for him.
Y/N felt tipsy; she felt good on the inside, like an itchy bubble inside of her. She knew she could be drinking more, but she had to stop, knowing she would head home later that night; Y/N couldn't stay here. She couldn't let her thoughts win. She'd catch herself while they talked, her eyes moving to his lips and his hands grazing her. She'd even catch Negan’s eyes lingering; maybe it was the liquor talking, but maybe Negan felt something for her.
The tension felt higher in the room as if it was closing in on them. Y/N has had this feeling before with him; being alone with him sometimes made her feel claustrophobic. Right now, the room felt more closed in than ever, the conversation taking turns at times.
“We have been talking for hours, sweetheart.” Negan glanced over at the time on the oven. It had to be close to three hours of them talking and rambling on and on. Y/N could not believe how fast time flew, she had so much fun just talking to Negan.
Maybe she had just been lonley, maybe they both have been.
“I hope I didn't keep you from anything. I can go here soon; I should be sobered up.” Y/N started to get up. Negan grabbed her wrist gently, still startling Y/N. Her eyes met his, and he stood slightly to reach her sti, keeping his distance and removing his hand. “Fuck- I didn't mean- I shouldn't have done it that way, Y/N.” Negan slurred his words, stumbling to make a sentence. He acted like some high schooler trying to ask out a girl for the first time.
His words confused Y/N; her eyebrows furrowed, and his touch sent goosebumps down her spine. It was so quick that she ached for more. “What I am trying to say, sweetheart, is you can stay a little longer.” His words almost sounded sinister, and the look in his eyes darkened.
This is it; she should run now. Y/N knew a mistake was going to happen, but it felt so good despite the bad feelings.
“I guess I could if I'm not intruding,” Y/N gently sat back down, her words more suggestive than before. Her eyes showed hope in it, something darker… sinful. Negan's lips curled up into a smirk, his eyes scanned over her body. Y/N kept her posture and head up. She seemed confident that the nerves screaming inside her were not showing on the outside. “You’re keeping a good ole man company, doll. No harm done.” Negan tried to persuade Y/N that these were all innocent acts and friendly conversations. That's what it always had been; it had to stay that way.
“No harm done,” Y/N repeated, taking a deep breath in her eyes, which never left Negan’s face. His eyes could slowly eat her alive; the way he was looking at her made Y/N feel exposed. Negan moved his hands underneath the stool she sat on, pulling her closer to him, which made Y/N gasp, letting her eyes trail down to his lips to his hazel eyes again. Maybe it was the drinks they had; perhaps this was all going to happen anyway, but Y/N was realizing slowly her sinful fantasies of Negan were coming true.
“Since you're staying longer, sweetheart, how about we play a game?” Negan implied, his head tilted in curiosity at her reply. He was steadily getting closer to her lips by the second. Y/N kept her eye contact through her long lashes. She could feel sweat forming on her forehead. “What-what kind of game?” Y/N questioned, her throat started to tighten.
In an instant, Negan pulled back, clapping his hands together playfully. “A drinking game!” Y/N felt like the trance she was in was broken. She barely saw Negan head back over to his liquor cabinet, pulling out a few small Jack Daniel shots.
What kind of other game was Negan playing with her? He had to be teasing her now.
Negan laid the smaller shots down before them, sitting beside her again. “How are we gonna play this little game of yours?” Y/N teasingly asked, following his actions, unscrewing one of the shots. “I know you played this little game in college; never have I Ever?” Y/N's eyebrows furrowed; why would Negan want to play this? Y/N giggled at Negan’s game of choice; why was this turning her on?
“Why in the hell would we play that, huh?” Y/N questioned; Negan’s face seemed serious, pushing his chair closer to her. She gulped a bit, scanning over the older man. His eyes seemed glossier than before, still having the golden brown tint she'd always loved.
Just like Ben’s… fuck Ben—
why should she care?
“I think there are some things we wanna know about each other, hun,” Negan acknowledged, shooting her a playful wink. She squirmed a bit, which made Negan laugh to himself- he loved it. Teasing her, maybe that’s what he should do after the past couple of years. Teasing him at times, Negan was reading her like a book now. “If you’ve done it, you sip your shot,” Negan clarified the rules, which he knew Y/N probably knew.
“Since it was your idea, you start us of Negan.” Y/N loosened up in her seat, smirking his way. Negan's eyes sparkled like a light bulb going off. “Never have I ever…” Negan pondered momentarily, rubbing the scruff on his face, “Never have I ever dated someone older than me.” Y/N's lips pierced, taking the shot between her lips. Ben was a year younger than her; maybe that was her mistake dating someone younger. She dated someone five years older than her before, and Y/N was usually attracted to older men.
Y/N shivered, taking a deep breath and shaking it off quickly. “Who knows, I might go back to the older men.” Y/N flirted, her foot grazing Negan's ankle, and pulled back to make it seem like an accident. “Seem to take care of you better, doll? May cause more bad than good for you; some of those older men are creeps.” Negan implied, smirking as his hands crept closer to where he rested.
The tension was making the room warmer, but her body felt cold. “I'm guessing it's my turn.” Y/N pushed her hands away from the counter, the tension growing in the room. Negan was even shifting in his seat, which had Y/N fighting back a smile. “Never have I ever cheated on someone.” She was curious to see.
“You're a funny one, sweetheart.” Negan divulged, letting out a laugh. I've never cheated, not even once, but my wife did.” Y/N was taken aback, having a sense of guilt bringing it up. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean-” Negan stopped her, shaking her head with a smile. “Its not big deal, Y/N. I can't believe after some of our conversations it hasn't came up. Or even Ben saying anything to you.”
When Ben started dating Y/N, his mom had already left, but Ben never said why. Of course, she wouldn't ask Negan why she left. “Ive always still wondered if Ben is on her side.” Negan confided, taking his shot letting his emotions run. Y/N listened to him even if Ben was, they were both in the wrong.
“I was spending more time with work than her…are family.” Negan sighed, cracking another one and setting it to the side. Y/N felt bad for him, she knew no matter what she didn't need to cheat. “Thats still no excuse, Negan. She could have talked to you.” Y/N gave her words of wisdom, letting her hand rest on his arm. His pulse quickened to her touch, Y/N’s eyes were calling him.
Negan felt that… this was going to be bad.
“We both still have a shot.” Negan gestured to the full Jack Daniel shots; his lips curled like he had a motive. “Hit me with a good one,” Y/N had her shot ready in hand and her smirk. Negan had to throw her off, make her squirm again, and get her exactly how he wanted her.
“Never have I ever wanted one of my ex’s parents.” Negan was blunt watching Y/N’s confidence drop. Her face reddened; the grip on her shot could have almost shattered it. It was silent; the air thickened his body, growing close to her. Y/N felt glued to her seat, her gaze fixated fully on him.
“I don't—I don't… I can't answer that.”
Negan laughter was darker and more profound, deep, which scared her and turned her on. “You don't have to answer, princess. Just take the shot if it's true.” Negan gestured to her shot in hand, patiently waiting. Y/N kept her looks on Negan, taking the shot down while her eyes never left. While slamming the empty bottle down, Negan’s lips parted, pushing himself onto her. His hands wrapped around her cheeks, and he slammed his lips onto hers. They both tasking the whiskey on their lips, mixed with Y/N’s lipgloss.
She tasted as sweet as he thought.
Y/N moaned at the contact, keeping her lips moving with his, his fingers gripping her hair, making her gasp. His tongue grazed her bottom lip, meeting her own. She pulled away, out of breath, the guilt rushing over her. “We can’t do this, Negan.” Y/N tried to catch her breath, the alcohol starting to take some effect, “I need to go home.” Y/N stood up, feeling the room spin because of how quickly she stood from her seat.
Negan grabbed her wrist, twisting her around, which made her whimper as his nose rested on hers. Y/N's eyes stayed parted, fighting back the urge she craved.
“Don’t go—you can’t go,” Negan begged, his hands trailing up her arms slowly, feeling her goosebumps form. He sounded desperate. “No matter what you want, sweetheart, please stay in the guest room.”
“It’s bad what I want,” Y/N admitted, her eyes closed and her legs like jello. “It feels good, though, right?” Negan teased, making everything much more dangerous. He chuckled as his hands made it to her neck, wrapping both larger hands around, which made Y/N whimper. “Admit it, baby. It’s gone too far now to go running.”
Baby.. fuck.
Everything suddenly was forgotten. Just this moment was all that mattered. None of the aftermath mattered; they both knew what they wanted.
Negan grabbed her waist, picked her up swiftly, sitting her on the counter. His lips brush down the veins of her neck. She was having his hand wrapped around her throat, slamming her lips onto his. Y/N lips were hungry, moving in sync with her hands resting on both sides of his face. He kept his lips moving with hers; whimpers and moans filled the room from both. Her hands flew to his black button-up, popping them open.
Sneaking her hands down into his half-opened shirt, Negan got chills from her touch, feeling her excellent warm hands.
He dreamed of this moment.
“You drive me insane,” Negan growled, his hands trailing up her dress, squeezing her hips roughly. Y/N squirmed from the contact, gasping out, his other hand taking her face, her cheeks squished between them. When she met Negan's gaze, his eyes were darker and filled with all his sinister thoughts about her.
“I don't know what you're talking about.” Y/N innocently batted her eyelashes, and a smirk grew on her face, which didn't last long when Negan pushed her back on the cold counter. Y/N couldn't see him anymore, only feel his hands pulling down the panties she had on. Negan chuckled, placing kisses on her thigh. His palms were rough as they moved across her bare legs tracing small circles back up to her bare cunt. Y/N wanted to close her thighs together, so she cried out, having Negan’s hands squeezing her thighs open.
“If it's so bad, why does it feel so good?” Negan questioned her and himself. “It feels so wrong but right,” Y/N confessed, trying to catch her breath. She could feel his breath down her thighs, getting closer to her aching clit. Y/N tossed her head back in pleasure, her hands running through his hair.
“Fuck, I didn’t expect you to be this wet baby,” Negan whispered as his fingers went through her wet folds, having her squirm. “Please,” Y/N begged, the ache in her voice showing how much she wanted it. Negan was enjoying every second of it, too; he knew he might never have her again.
He was going to make the best of it.
“Tell me what you want; I feel like I know.” Negan blew air onto her clit, making her gasp and pulling on his hair which made him growl. His nails dug into her hips, pulling her closer, giving one sharp lick up her pussy.
“I want you, Negan, please.” Y/N sounded so needy; she had never wanted anyone like this before. “My son didn’t take care of ya?” Negan inquired casually, giving her wet folds a lick along, running his fingers around, “That’s a shame, doll; I guess I’ll have to.”
Hearing him mention Ben, she came back to reality for a moment. How could all this go? No matter what, even if she stopped now, it would end badly even if this never happened again.
“Negan, I-“
He cut her off by entirely going down on her. Negan was eating her out like a hungry animal. Y/N’s eyes rolled back, and she could see stars. She was a moaning mess, her thighs squeezed around his head. Y/N had her legs wrapped around him, pushing his head deeper into her. “I love to hear your little whimpers and moans, baby,” Negan admitted. She could feel the pit in her stomach grow.
Y/N’s toes curled, feeling her stomach tighten with his movements. “Negan- I’m close.” Y/N rose slightly from the counter to watch Negan, who instantly met her gaze. “Yeah, sweetheart?” Negan continued as he slowed down to look at Y/N, two of his fingers sliding easily into her cunt. Y/N almost couldn’t hold herself up anymore, feeling her walls closing around his thick fingers. Y/N felt her legs shaking, her back arching off the counter, coming around Negan’s face.
Negan grabbed her by the waist, pulled her up, and placed small kisses on her neck. “Wrap around me," he commanded. She trusted him, having her legs around him. Negan had his hands around her, playfully squeezing them, taking her off the counter to his room. His lips moved in sync with Y/N busting through his bedroom door, throwing her onto the bed.
She had never been in his room; it was so plain it suited him well. Negan had now removed his shirt, her hands exploring his inked body. Y/N pulled at his belt buckle, which made him smirk at her desire. His pants lowered, and he reached beneath her dress for the feel of warmth between her legs. Y/N’s panties were in the kitchen still; his member teased her entrance.
“I want you, I want you mine.” Y/N gasped as he entered her, his words having her head spinning; Negan's thrusts were rough, throwing one of her legs over his shoulder and going deeper in her. Their sweaty bodies collided as her fucked her deep into the mattress; Y/N’s nails dug into his back, making him groan. “Havin’ an old man work for it, huh?” Negan playfully teased, his breathing increasing with his pace, “You’d rather fuck Ben’s old man instead of him, huh?”
Y/N could only whimper; how could she even answer that? Why was this turning her on more? Negan slapped her ass, “Answer me, baby. You like being a little slut, huh? Daddys little slut.”
“Fuck.” What in the world has gotten into Negan? His words were so dirty and wrong, but fuck, she loved it.
“Yes- I do.”
Usually, sex with Ben wasn’t adventurous. If that’s what you’d call it. It was mostly the same each time; it was getting old. No one had given her this rush time before, even before Ben. “Look at me,” Negan insisted, holding her by the neck. Their eyes stayed on each other as he fucked her tight cunt, “I want you to come for me, baby, and I am gonna come with you.”
His pace was sloppier; feeling her wet walls squeeze his member was making him closer by the second. “I’m coming, Daddy.” Negan knew he didn’t want this to end; he wanted more each day like she was a drug to him, his little drug that he wanted to be high on each day.
He knew this was only the beginning.
The following day, Y/N’s head felt heavy. The mattress beneath her seemed softer, and the room was brighter. She gasped, jerking herself up, realizing she wasn’t in her room or her home.
All the memories of last night flooded her head, she kept the sheets clinched to her bare body. “Sleeping beauty is finally awake!” Negan chirped, having a cup of coffee in his hand and handing it over to her. Y/N almost felt ashamed and embarrassed to be naked in front of him. She shouldn’t be after last night…
“Need any medicine?” Negan asked, sitting on the foot of the bed, his eyes trying to search what she was feeling. “I’m okay, thank you.” Y/N smiled, trying to gather her thoughts together. “We uh- we shouldn’t have taken it to that level, Negan,” Y/N admitted that she knew no matter how much she wanted it again, they didn’t need to.
It couldn’t happen.
“You’re saying you regret it, darling?” Negan knew her answer with a smirk plastered on his face. He stood up, getting near her again, feeling the thick air.
It was just like a cycle.
Negan’s lips brushed against hers, leaning himself on the bed she laid in. Y/N's mouth parted, trying to find the urge to speak. “N-no, I don’t.” Y/N knew she couldn’t lie to Negan; her fist dug deeper into the silk sheets. He drawled a breath in, letting out a slight laugh, pulling back from her, playfully patting her cheek.
In a moment of being stunned, she watched Negan causally getting ready to leave the room again. “How about you come down for breakfast?” Negan urged with a welcoming smile, with glasses resting on his nose and plaid pants. He stopped in his tracks, turning around on his heels.
“Oh yeah, you might wanna get dressed. Ben’s downstairs.”
lowkey guys, remember to write for yourself too. i abandoned my favorite wip of all time for two years because i thought other people wouldn’t like it. that sucked, and i decided to stop caring if other people will think it’s weird and write what i like. it’s made me a lot happier since i’ve accepted that
Summary: Joel needs glasses but won't admit it, and there's only an amount of teasing a man can take before he decides to show you just how much of an old man he is.
warnings: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, hair pulling, (joel gets a lil rough)
Ellie was the one to start it all,
I mean it's not like you hadn't noticed, but she was the one that started with the jokes.
Not very honorable of you to blame it all on the 14 year old, you knew... but still, just to get the record straight, you weren’t the one to tease him first.
“Gimmie Granpa” she had chuckled one time, grabbing the piece of paper where Maria had written down the recipe for her 'world-famous' casserole from his hands.
"Hey-" He'd protested,
"You can't see shit, man" she giggled, "Stop trying to fight it- you're getting old buddy"
And well from then on things had... escalated.
You'd yet to see a day where the poor man wasn't made fun of because of it, but truth be told, he really did need glasses.
You'd even suggested it to him more gently, in the comfort of your own room, away from Ellie's prying eyes.
"y'know baby, there's nothing wrong with getting glasses"
He'd looked at you as if you'd just told him to go fuck himself.
"Don't look at me like that" you'd smiled, rounding the bed to intertwine your hands behind his neck "It's for your own good"
"I don't need glasses"
"no?" you'd bit down a grin "you sure?"
"'m sure alright" he grumbled
"I bet Tommy would know where to get you a pair if you asked"
"darlin'"
"yes, baby?" you'd asked, hopeful
"I don't need 'em"
And you really did want to keep on trying to convince him, but then he'd kissed you and well- it must have slipped your mind.
Unluckily for him, not for a very long time.
He was in the bathroom, trying, or more specifically struggling, to open a bandaid for your injured finger.
It wasn't anything serious, just a little cut, but as you'd disinfected it, he'd insisted on covering it up, only of course you hadn't expected it to take so long.
"Baby, what's wrong, you can't find them?"
But the answer to your question was right before you as you entered the bathroom.
As I said, he was struggling.
A laugh bubbled up your throat as you took in his focused expression, the frown on his forehead, the squint in his eyes...
"Let me do it"
"No I can do it I just-" he tried to get it open again, failing miserably.
"Joel-" you smiled, walking up to him "let me" you said softly
And with a sigh, he surrendered, handing you the poor, tortured bandaid
"I could have done that" he grumbled as he watched you do it in a split second.
"Sure you could, old man" You grinned to yourself, carefully applying the bandage to your finger.
"What did you just say?"
A soft, breathless gasp fled your mouth-
He'd moved right behind you, and his hands were now on your waist.
"Jesus babe" you laughed,
"What did you say?"
His voice was rough, and his eyes... something had shifted behind his eyes.
You watched his reflection in the mirror before you as you answered
"I said I'm sure you could"
"Mhh" he hummed, his head lowering until he could dive into your neck and inhale your scent "The other thing"
"what other thing?" you feigned innocence, enthralled by his demeanor, by the almost predatorial look in his eyes
"You know what"
"no I don'-"
But you didn't have time to finish, he'd already grabbed you by your hair, pulling your head back until his mouth was ghosting yours
"you called me an old man, darlin'?"
He was a different man from a minute ago.
This was the Joel Miller people feared, the one that killed without remorse, the one that fucked you rough- the once that a sick and twisted part of you revered.
"Baby I was jokin-"
"didn't look like it" he growled, his clothed hard-on pressing into your ass making you whimper, "you think I'm an old man, babydoll?" he murmured, his grip tightening around your hair "I'll show you how much of an old man I am"
Next thing you knew, your upper body was flushed against the sink's countertop, and your shorts were at your feet, together with your panties.
You watched from the mirror as he freed his cock with the hand that wasn't holding you down, and then you felt it-
"will you look at that" he chuckled darkly, the tip of his dick sliding between your folds with ease "you're makin' a mess for an old man, babydoll"
"J-Joel" you whimpered
"no no darlin'" he cooed "You've brought this on yourself- now you're gonna be good and take it, alright?"
When you didn't respond, he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at him through the mirror
"alright?" he bent down, growling in your ear
"y-yes"
"try not to be too loud," he whispered "You wouldn't want people to know how much you like getting fucked by an old man"
You had no time to respond, to tell him how much you didn't care, because he'd already pushed himself fully inside of you, and the only thing you could do was scream.
"you can't help yourself can ya?" he muttered, watching your face contort in all sorts of bliss-induced expressions "The old man gives it to ya too good, 's that it?" he groaned, feeling your walls squeeze around him
"look at me" he ordered, pulling your hair again, making you open your eyes and watch him as he ruthlessly slammed inside of you "Look at the old man who's fuking you, darlin', don't be rude" he grinned
The sound of his skin against yours reverberated through the bathroom, and god it was nasty.
"f-fuck" you tried to speak, tears tarnishing your vision
"I know, I know" he pretended to care, getting up from where he was pressing his torso onto your back, using a hand to get you to remain flush against the sink "I'm going too slow, ain't I?"
Oh shit
Oh fucking shi-
If you thought he was going hard before... you hadn't seen anything.
You couldn't fully create one single thought in your mind as he picked up his pace, as he started literally slamming into you fast and hard enough to break you in half.
"I'm jus' an old man after all babydoll, ain't I?" he breathed, one hand still on your back while the other was still forcing your head up to look at him "You'll understand if I can't fuck you as hard as you'd like" it was like he wasn't hearing how loud you were moaning, how breathless your whines and gasps where each time his dick hit your cervix "what's that?" he mocked "you need it harder darlin'?"
"J-Joel-" you whined, begging, pleading for what you weren't even sure
"shh I got you baby" he cooed, bending down to whisper in your ear again, slowing down his pace just to thrust so fucking deep and hard into you you swore you saw stars "I know my old man's pace ain't enough for you doll"
But it was- Oh it was more than enough.
And yet he didn't care- he was going even harder, even faster, even deeper, and you... you didn't even remember your name anymore.
You could feel the thickness of his cock as it slammed into you over and over and over again, the way it would hit the most hidden spots inside of you, the ones only Joel had only ever been able to find, and then-
And then you could hear his grunts and strangled groans as he fucked you within an inch of your life, as his hair fell to his forehead and tears streamed down your face and your eyes struggled to remain open, struggled to keep on watching him as he fucked you from behind with enough force to break the fucking sink you were on.
Until it got to be too much, until you felt your stomach tighten and the fuse lighting, until he hit that secret spot once again, and all you could do was close your eyes as bliss took over your body, as waves of ecstasy washed over you.
"look at you" he groaned "coming all over an old man's cock" he breathed, your walls squeezing him too good to do anything else but follow suit "letting an old man come deep inside of ya"
It took a long moment for either of you to wake up from the sex-induced haze, but Joel was in much better shape than you, so it was him who came back earlier.
he begrudgingly pulled out, enjoying for a moment too long his own handy work before he helped you up, picking you up bridal style once he realized how useless your legs had become.
"baby" you murmured, before he could place you on the bed "You know I was joking right?" you said, leaning up to kiss him, your mouth catching his in a sweet, gentle kiss that contradicted completely the way he'd just ruined your ability to walk properly
"You're not an old man" you promised
"mh?" he hummed, kissing you again just because he could
"yeah" you smiled, melting into the kiss for what felt like an eternity
He was holding you gently, watching your eyes as they begged to close.
"good" he hummed against your mouth, watching it twist into a devious little smirk as a spark ignited in your eyes
"Although I still think you should at least consider getting glasses-"
"darlin'" he stopped you immediately "I suggest you stop talkin''"
"or what?" you bit down a grin, laughing softly
"Or Tommy's gonna be real mad when you tell him you can't make it to patrol tomorrow 'cause your legs don't work"
Summary: (Based on the book You Shouldn’t Have Come Here by Jeneva Rose) Y/N is a city girl who grew up in the city all her life. When she takes a vacation and stays in an Airbnb hosted by a stranger, Negan Smith, things become heated. During her stay, many secrets unfold from both the city girl and the countryman.
Warnings: 18+!, smut!, kinda perv! negan smith!, age gap relations (reader is in later 20s, Negan is in 40s!), stalker vibes!, murders!, mentions of cheating!, southern accents!, mentions of Lucille!, death, mentions of death!, mentions of sanity!, daddy kink!, spanking!, choking!, dom negan!, obsession!, toxic relations!, darker themes!, oral sex!, peer pressure!, reader has hair and is girly!, mentions of death!, praise kink!, mentions of murder!, blood descriptions!, reader is a city girl!, sub reader!, sexual tension!, family trauma!, drinking!, pet names!, cock worship!, body worship!, use of word slut!, third pov, and not fully edited! - warnings will be different each chapter (warnings may be added)
{Moodboard by the head "sleazy gas station joel" slut herself @chloeangelic}
Status: Ongoing (sporadic)
Pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel x fem!reader
Series Summary: When you stumble into your local gas station one night and the sleazy clerk refuses to sell you alcohol, you have to get creative. What should have just been a one time bribe winds up being more than you bargained for.
Rating: Explicit 18+ for all chapters [Minors Do Not Interact]
Series Warnings/Tags: Age gap, daddy!kink, size!kink, breeding!kink, mentions of cigarettes/weed/alcohol, minor degradation!kink, VERY light dubcon for first part, really cringey dirty talk courtesy of joel but it's hot.
Please see individual chapters for more indepth warnings/tags.
a/n: this series has such a special place in my heart, and i'm so humbled and grateful for all of the love (and reluctant attraction) y'all have expressed for my little slimeball Joel I've crafted. if you're new, i hope you enjoy and please feel free to hop into my inbox with thoughts/headcanons/requests and i'll see what i can do :) 💘
Main Series:
Part 1: Meet Me in the Back
summary: When the gas station clerk refuses to sell you alcohol after a shitty day, you need to get creative
word count: 3.8K
Part 2: The Night Is Dark Enough We’re Only Seeing Stars
summary: You can’t resist another visit to Joel in all his pervy glory.
word count: 4.7K
Part 3: Hard to Break the Habit
summary: When you need some air in your tires, Joel does some filling
word count: ~5k
Part 4: (His) Home for the Holidays: A Meet Me in the Back Christmas Special
summary: joel texts you while he’s horny during the holidays, and you decide to visit him at his house after work.
word count: ~5.2k
Part 5: I've Got My Red Dress on Tonight
summary: when your Valentine’s Day date doesn’t show, you decide there’s one person who would be happy to see you.
word count: ~7.8k
Part 5.5: The Morning After
summary: A little intermediary part. The morning after Valentine's Day.
word count: ~3.3k
Part 6: Always on the Tip of my Tongue
summary: when you see joel flirting with another girl, you start to lose your head.
word count: ~7.6k
Oneshots/Headcanons/Drabbles:
Underneath Kitchen Lights: A Ficlet
summary: You ride Joel’s thigh. That’s about it. Some gross fluff.
word count: ~1.6k
Alright with a Slow Burn: A Oneshot
summary: Just a casual cockwarming competition on a weekend afternoon.
word count: ~5.4k
Summary: You confess your feelings to your gym coach and he shows you how he feels in return.
Warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, slight choking, praise kink, age-gap (reader is 18, Negan is in his 40's)
You had stopped dressing out, stopped walking laps, and stopped giving a damn in general. You were graduating high school in a couple of weeks and that meant that you wouldn't see him again. Coach Negan had been your favorite teacher over the past four years, letting you get by doing the bare minimum while still giving you an A+ each semester.
He's been there for you through it all - Your major breakups, the start of your womanhood, even your parents divorce. When you told Negan about your dad leaving during your sophomore year, he became overly protective over you, like he was trying to fill that void in your life. It was clear to everyone that you were his favorite, and that didn't seem to bother Negan. But you wanted him in a deeper way, and it was starting to become more and more obvious to both of you.
You turned down the volume on your earbuds when Negan sat next to you on the bleachers. The two of you watched the other students walking laps around the gym silently for a few moments before he spoke.
"You know I can't keep letting you get away with doing nothing, doll. It looks like favoritism."
"Isn't it, though?" You grinned, glancing at him with your arms crossed. He copied your body language, leaning back on the bleachers.
"That's beside the point." His jean covered knee rubbed against yours as he smirked. You sighed and his gaze softened. "Seriously, kid. What's up with you lately?"
You could feel your cheeks turning pink as you looked down at your phone, changing the song. Negan took an earbud out of your ear and held it up to his own, curious as to what you were listening to.
"No wonder you're so down. This music is depressing as shit." He laughed before putting it back in your ear.
"Maybe that's part of it." I shrugged.
"Yeah? What's the other part?" He asked, resting his arm on the bleacher behind you and running his thumb over the back of your arm. Chills instantly spread over your skin and your legs discretely pressed together. At least, you thought you were discrete, but the smirk on his face and the way his eyes dropped to your thighs said otherwise.
"You know where to find me if you want to talk." He said, leaving you and heading to his office.
You sighed louder, dropping your head back after watching him disappear. The cologne trail he left behind filled your lungs and broke you at the same time. The thought of never seeing him again made you want to drop from the face of the earth.
You were in love with him. And you had been for awhile now, which would explain the crippling depression and lack of motivation. There was no way it could ever work between the two of you. He was old enough to be your father. He probably wasn't even attracted to you in that way, but you had built this fantasy world in your mind where the two of you could be together. You spent more time in that world than in reality, and music helped you get there.
The bell rang moments later, dismissing school for the day. You sat still, watching the others file out of the gym like they couldn't wait to leave. And here you were, glued to the bleachers like you wanted to stay forever.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you gathered your things and went to Negan's office. You'd been there numerous times throughout the past four years. He kept it unlocked and stayed at least an hour after dismissal. You knocked lightly, waiting for his permission before entering.
"Well, that was quick." Negan smiled, showing his pretty teeth while motioning for you to sit in the chair in front of his desk. His arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair and studied you, completely ignoring whatever he was busy with before.
"Sorry, I know you're busy.." You began.
"Never too busy for you, sweetheart. You ready to talk about what's been on your mind?
"Maybe." You began, sounding unsure and feeling sick. This was a bad idea.
"Maybe? We talk all the damn time, kid. What's different this time?"
"I think I'm.. in love with this guy.. who probably has no clue. It's embarrassing."
"You told me about the time you lost your virginity for fuck's sake. We've had these talks before. Why is it embarrassing?"
You felt your cheeks burning, remembering how you sobbed in this same chair a year ago when your first love broke your heart.
"Because if you knew who, you'd probably never speak to me again." You said, unable to look at him.
Negan tilted his head curiously, holding back a grin. "Doubt it, kid. Try me."
"Okay, well, he's older. A lot older." You glanced at him.
"Okay." Negan nodded. "So he doesn't go here."
"Well, he sort of does.. He's um, not a student though." You felt lightheaded like you could faint any second.
He sighed. "A teacher?"
"Is.. that.. awful?" You asked, cringing at how ridiculous you must sound.
"It will be... if it's not me." He stood, walking around his desk and leaning against it when he stopped in front of you.
"And if it is?" You asked, looking up at him.
"It fucking better be. Come here." He said in almost a whisper. You stood instantly and he moved out of the way, nodding his head towards the desk that he was just leaning on, silently telling you to sit.
He stepped between your legs, lifting them slightly as he pulled you forward to the very edge of the desk. Your clothed pussy was pressed against the bulge in his jeans and the friction made you wetter by the second. You tried to control your visible shaking.
"Since we're confessing things now, there's something you should know too." He said, thrusting forward. "I've thought about fucking your little pussy every day since you turned 18. How it would taste, how it would feel wrapped around my cock, how you would sound screaming my name. Is that awful?"
"Negan.."
"Oh and, if if wasn't obvious already.. I'm fuckin' crazy about you, too." He grinned.
You pressed your lips to his and felt his smile widen as he kissed you back. He took the lead, deepening the kiss as his hands explored you further. He lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it to the side while his gaze lingered over your chest. His fingers fumbled with the clasp of your bra before sliding it off your arms.
"So fucking perfect." He practically moaned before dipping down and wrapping his mouth around your perky nipple. He teased the other one too before coming back up to capture your lips again. His movements became quicker, and you became more confident, running your hands up his back underneath his shirt. He stood back just enough to take off his shirt and you admired his hairy, tattooed chest, seeing it for the first time. Your gaze followed the happy trail under his belly button to the hair peeking out of his low-hanging jeans.
"If this it too fast, you can tell me, baby. We don't have to rush."
"No." You said too quickly. "...I want this."
"Good." He grinned, kissing you again as he began unbuttoning your jeans. You couldn't believe this was happening. You were so lost in the moment when a knock on the door made you both freeze. Negan dropped his head, clearly annoyed. "Yeah?!"
"Coach, can I -"
The door opened and you covered yourself with your hands as well as you could, although Negan's body blocked most of yours. Negan didn't flinch. Instead, he calmly turned his head and stared at the student at the door. "Did I fucking say you could come in?"
"N-no sir." He stuttered nervously before leaving and closing the door behind him.
"Negan!" You said panicked. "He could tell someone. You could lose your job."
"So be it, doll. Nothing is getting in my way of this." He said softly, lifting you slightly to remove your jeans and panties. He slipped them off your ankles and spread your legs, admiring your glistening lips.
"Goddamn girl, you are perfect." He leaned down to lick you once and you whimpered at the quick loss of his tongue.
"Don't worry baby, we have all the time in the world for that. Right now? I need to be buried inside you. That okay?" He asked, unzipping his jeans and pulling out his completely hard cock. He was long, thick and much bigger than your previous boyfriend.
You nodded desperately. "Yes, yes, Negan, please."
He slid into you with one deep motion, doing just as he said - burying himself inside you. It was so deep it made your jaw drop slightly.
"Fuuuuuck sweetheart. You feel fucking incredible." His forehead pressed against yours and he began thrusting into you at a steady pace. Blood rushed to your cheeks at how amazing it felt.
"Lay back for me." He said, lightly pushing you to lay flat on your back on the desk. He remained inside of you and pulled you closer until your ass was just hanging off the edge. He placed your ankles on his shoulders as he plowed into you, hitting an even deeper spot than before. Tears filled your eyes at the sensation and you covered your mouth, trying not to scream.
"Uncover that pretty mouth, baby. I want everyone in this goddamn school to hear how good I'm making you feel." Your hands dropped to your sides and you let go, moaning loudly without caring.
"Fuck baby. Look at that." He said, looking down at your body. You lifted your head to look down and your eyes widened at the sight of his cock repeatedly protruding your stomach. You both watched in awe, breathing heavily as his thrusts became faster. His large hands gripped your waist, rubbing his thumbs over the bulge in your belly.
"Negan! Feels so good." You cried.
"I know baby, I know. Fuck." He groaned, pulling out of you, only to flip you over. You turned your head to the side, laying your cheek on the cold desk as he pulled your hips closer to him. He helped you wrap your legs around his waist as he pushed himself back into you, pulling on your thighs as he fucked you harder than before. Your chest pressed painfully against the desk but the sensation didn't compare to the bruising he was giving your cervix.
He allowed your legs to drop to the floor, leaving you in a position bent over his desk. Gripping your hair, he pulled you back and leaned over to meet you until his mouth attached to your neck. He bit down on the sensitive skin next to your shoulder while fucked you.
"This little pussy is mine now. Say it." He demanded, his voice in your ear sending chills through your body.
"It's yours, Negan! Only yours."
He chuckled, reaching around and instantly finding your clit. He rubbed his middle finger over it in circles while his other hand wrapped around your throat with the perfect amount of pressure. You tried to moan when you felt your orgasm approaching, but his hand around your throat stopped them from escaping and left your mouth silently gaping open.
Your eyes fluttered shut and your ears started to ring when it hit you - warm juices flooded his cock and dripped down your inner thighs as you moaned his name over and over.
"Thaaaaat's it, y/n. Good girl." He said the last part with a growl, letting go of your throat and turning you quickly. "Knees, now."
You eagerly obeyed him, dropping down and sticking out your tongue to catch his load. He looked down at you while stroking his cock and you closed your eyes, feeling it shoot across your face in warm, pulsating waves. He grunted louder with each one, until every drop was out of him and on your face.
"And here I thought you couldn't get any prettier, baby." He said, cupping your face and admiring you. You both cleaned up, using the tissue on his desk.
"Negan.. that was.. everything. But seriously, I'm worried about him someone finding out."
"Don't, it doesn't matter, doll. I already gave them my notice."
"Wh-what do you mean?" You asked, pulling your pants up.
"It's my last year here. I got an offer to coach basketball at UGA." He said proudly, smiling at you while pulled his shirt back over his head.
You were speechless for a moment. "Negan.. are you serious?! That's where I'm going."
He walked over, pulling you in for a kiss. "Exactly."
Summary: When Joel accidentally stumbles upon your only fans he convinces himself he's only subscribing to help you through college. And then you send him his top-tier subscriber personal video and he's fucked because you don't even know it's him your dad's best friend.
Warnings: 18+, reader has an only fans, unprotected p in v, f!andm! oral receiving, age gap (at least 10 years), reader is in her 20's, alcohol consumption, there's a dick pic, reader posts nudes of herself on her OF so if you do not like that please scroll awaaaaaay thanks <3 two consenting adults.
Notes: I listened to Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter a hundred too many times and couldn't sleep on this random idea. I got carried away, this was supposed to be a short one-shot and then I fell in love and married the idea so here we are. Tysm @saradika-graphics for the divider.
Joel’s never been on a site like this.
But his best buddy's enthusiasm was infectious. Convincing him that it's all the hype, ‘You should see the women on there man.’ So, after a long day at work, followed by a shower, he is perched in front of his computer, the screen's glow illuminating his skepticism.
With a deep breath, he navigates to the website, his fingers poised hesitantly over the keys. He starts scrolling through the front page, taking in the various content that is being shared. It's all very different from anything he's ever seen before, but he can see why his friend is so excited about it.
As he continues scrolling Joel's eyes widen in surprise. There you are right on the front page, not too far from the top, his friend's daughter, exuding confidence in a bikini and a sexy little pose, the very picture of carefree youth.
Denial is his first reaction as he quickly minimises the page, not believing he just saw that. It couldn't have been you. No way. But curiosity, that relentless beast, coaxes him back to the screen. The second glance confirms it; it's undeniably you, and the realization sends a jolt through him. He clicks on your profile, the rabbit hole beckoning.
His heart races as he sees more and more photos of you. Wearing lingerie in some of them, and bikinis in others, but never anything less. Then he finds the section with your paid content, looming like a forbidden fruit. The greyed-out thumbnails tease his imagination. He notices that he has to pay to see them and his mind races. What kinda stuff you got hidin’ here pretty girl?
Joel stops for a moment, unsure if he should really pay to see hidden content but before he can talk himself out of it, he enters his payment information, the justification that he is supporting you echoes hollowly in his mind. He clicks "subscribe." As soon as he does, the greyed-out photos become clear, and Joel's eyes widen in shock. He can't believe what he's seeing. You, completely naked, posing in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.
He feels a mix of emotions - excitement, guilt, confusion. He knows he shouldn't be looking at these photos, but he can't help himself. He tells himself that it's just for a few minutes, just to see what's there. That he's just being curious, that he's just supporting you. But deep down, he knows that's not the whole truth and he knows that he'll be coming back to these photos again and again.
For now, though, he tells himself that it's okay. He's just satisfying his curiosity, and he's supporting his friend's daughter at the same time. He tells himself that it's a win-win situation, and he settles back in his chair to enjoy the photos. But as he scrolls through the photos, he can feel himself getting more and more aroused. He starts to rub his cock through his pants, and before long, he's jerking off to the images on the screen. knowing that he's doing something wrong but unable to stop himself.
Just as he's about to come, he gets a message from the website. It's from you, and you're thanking him for subscribing to the highest tier, where he gets a personal video from you.
Joel's heart races as he reads the message, wondering if you know it's him. But as he reads on, he realizes that you don't. You're just being friendly, asking him what he'd like to see you do or say in a personal video.
Joel pauses, wrestling with the decision. The offer is tantalizing, and he can feel the pull of his curiosity. He rationalizes that it's merely a harmless video, an extra indulgence. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, he convinces himself that there's no harm in satisfying his curiosity just this once.
Joel takes a deep breath and types out a reply to you, asking if you could wear a school girl uniform in the video. He feels a twinge of guilt for asking, but he can't help being curious what you would look like in one and how he would feel bending you over his knee in one.
—
A few days later, Joel receives a notification that his personal video is ready to be viewed. He takes his time, feeling guilty all over again but evidently he clicks on the link and waits for the video to load.
When the video starts, he's greeted with the sight of you, wearing a plaid skirt and a white blouse, looking as sexy as ever. You start to unbutton your blouse, revealing a lacy bra underneath. Joel feels his face flush with heat as he watches you, his heart pounding in his chest.You continue to tease him, running your fingers through your hair and biting your lower lip. Joel can feel himself getting more and more aroused, his cock straining against his pants.
Finally, you slip out of your skirt and bra, revealing your naked body underneath. Joel watches in amazement as you pose. And if that wasn't enough then you started talking to him, looking directly into the camera and speaking in a sultry voice. "Hi there, cowboy," you say, a playful smile on your lips. "I hope you're enjoying the video so far. I know I'm enjoying making it for you."
You run your hands over your body, caressing your breasts and your hips. "Do you like what you see?" you ask, your voice dripping with suggestion. "I've been thinking about you. Wondering what you're doing right now. Are you touching yourself? Are you thinking about me?"
You lean closer to the camera, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I've been thinking about you too, baby. Wondering what it would be like to be with you. To feel your hands on my body."
You sit down on a black spinning chair, manoeuvring your legs so youre on full display for the camera, your fingers find your clit. "I'm so wet for you, daddy.” You moan out.
You start to touch yourself in earnest, your fingers moving faster and faster. "M’so close," you say, your breath coming in short gasps. "I want you to come with me. I want you to feel what I'm feeling. I want you to come for me daddy."
You throw your head back and moan, your body shudders with pleasure. "Yes, daddy. Yes! I'm coming so hard for you."
As the video comes to an end, you look back at the camera, your eyes shining with satisfaction. "I hope you enjoyed that, cowboy, can't wait to see what we do next.”
As the video comes to an end, Joel can't believe what he's just witnessed. He feels his orgasm building up inside of him, and before he knows it, he's coming in his pants - just from watching you.
As he looks back at the screen, he sees that there's a message waiting for him from you. You're thanking him for watching the video and asking if he enjoyed it. Damn you're quick with these messages. He didn't even know you could tell he watched it.
He stares at the screen for a moment unsure what to say
cowboy_jm: Yeah, I really enjoyed it. Thanks for making it for me darlin.
He hits send, feeling so awkward and out of his element. He hasn't flirted with another woman in ages and the fact you're at least ten years younger than him doesn't make it any easier.
A few moments later, he gets a reply from you.
you: I'm glad you enjoyed it, cowboy 😘 I had a lot of fun making it for you. Do you want to see more?
He shouldn't, he should just shut his computer down and cancel the membership later. But he can't, he can't help himself.
cowboy_jm: Yeah, I'd like that.
You send him a picture, and he feels his heart race as he opens it. It's a selfie of you, wearing the plaid skirt and white blouse from the video, with a playful smile on your lips.
you: Here's a little something extra for you, cowboy. I hope you like it. 😏
You can't do this for every top tier subscriber, could you? Then again the price tag did promise a lot more than the others did. Maybe not a lot of people were desperate enough to need to be talked up by a pretty little thing like you. But damn was he enjoying it.
cowboy_jm: Wow, you look absolutely stunning in that outfit. I could get used to seeing you like this.
You: Oh, I bet you could. 😉 You know, I've always wanted to ride a cowboy... or his horse.
Joel feels his face flush with heat as he reads your message. He can't believe you just said that, but he's also incredibly turned on. He's never had a conversation like this before, but he's finding that he really enjoys it.
cowboy_jm: Well, I'm sure we can work something out. I've got a pretty big horse.
you: Oh, I bet you do. I've always been a fan of big horses. Maybe one day I'll get to ride yours.
cowboy_jm: You can ride my horse anytime you want, darlin'. I promise you won't be disappointed.
you: I can't wait.
As the conversation comes to a close, Joel feels a sense of dread wash over him. He knows he's made a mistake. He tells himself that he'll figure something out later.
—
As you close your laptop, a thrill of excitement runs through you. The conversation has been so thrilling, so charged with flirtation and innuendo. You can tell whoever is behind this cowboy profile is probably a little older and not too experienced on a site like this.
You decide to do a little more digging before sending him anything else. You navigate to his profile, curious to learn more about this mysterious cowboy who's captured your interest. As you scroll through his vague faceless pictures and read his bio, your heart skips a beat. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks: "cowboy_jm" is none other than Joel Miller, your dad's best friend. The one coming over tomorrow for a BBQ
The shock is palpable. You've known Joel your entire life. He's been a constant presence at family barbecues, holiday gatherings, and birthday parties. The thought of him seeing your content, let alone subscribing to your highest tier, is both mortifying and exhilarating. You can't help but feel a twinge of guilt, but it's quickly overshadowed by a surge of mischievous excitement. The idea of playing a game with Joel, of having this secret, is too tempting to pass up. You decide to have a little fun with the situation. After all, he's the one who's been flirting with you, who's been watching your videos and messaging you. You tell yourself that he's a willing participant in this little charade.
With a playful smile, you decide to up the ante. You want to see just how far Joel is willing to go. You open up your messaging app and start typing.
you: Hey cowboy, I was just trying to get to sleep but need a little help. How about how about you send me a little something? 😉
You hit send and wait for his response. You know you're playing with fire, but you can't help yourself. You want to see if he's really as adventurous as he's been pretending to be. As you wait for his reply, you can't help but feel a sense of power. You're in control of this situation, and you're going to enjoy every minute of it. You know you should probably feel guilty for manipulating Joel like this, but the thrill of the game is too intoxicating.
Finally, your notifications go off, and you see a new message from Joel. You take a deep breath and open it.
cowboy_jm: Oh? And what did you have in mind, darlin'?
you: Well, I was thinking... maybe you could send me a little something to hold me over until I can have that ride. 😉
You hold your breath, waiting for his response. You're not sure if he'll go for it, but you're hoping he will.
cowboy_jm: I don't know, darlin'. I'm not sure if that's such a good idea.
you: Oh, come on, cowboy. I promise I'll make it worth your while. 😏
cowboy_jm: Well, I suppose I could make an exception... just this once.
You feel a surge of excitement as you read his message. You can't believe he's actually going to do it!
cowboy_jm: But you have to promise me something, darlin'. You have to promise that this stays between us. I don't want anyone else seein’
what I'm about to send you.
you: Oh, I promise. I won't tell a soul. 😉
cowboy_jm: Alright, darlin'. Here it is. 😘
As you gaze at the image Joel has sent, your breath hitches in your throat. The sight of his cock is both surprising and incredibly arousing. It's clear that he's not a young man, the maturity of his body is evident in the thick, veined shaft that stands proudly in the photo. The girth of it makes your fingers twitch with the desire to touch it, to feel its weight in your hands.
The skin is a rich, deep pink, stretched taut over the hardness beneath. The head is broad and flushed with a deeper hue, a bead of moisture glistening at the tip, hinting at his arousal and the urgency of his need. You can't help but imagine how it would feel inside you, filling you completely, the friction of his thrusts igniting a fire within your core.
You can't deny the beauty of his cock. It's a testament to his virility, to the raw, primal power that he possesses. The soft, dark and grey hair at the base contrasts with the smoothness of the shaft, adding to the visual feast before your eyes.
You feel a warmth spreading through your body, a heat that pools between your legs as you continue to admire the photo. The thought of having such a magnificent cock at your disposal, of being able to pleasure and be pleasured by it, sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.
Taking a moment to compose yourself, you type out a response
you: Wow, cowboy. You didn't have to send me something so... impressive. 😏 you've definitely exceeded my expectations. I can't wait to see it in person.
You hit send before you can second-guess yourself, the thrill of the forbidden fueling your boldness. You know you're playing a dangerous game, but the allure of the unknown, the promise of untold pleasures, is too potent to resist.
As you wait for his reply, you can't help but touch yourself, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties to find the slickness that has gathered there. You imagine it's his hand, his fingers expertly coaxing you towards release, and the thought is enough to make you moan softly into the quiet of your room.
cowboy_jm: I'm looking forward to it too, darlin'. More than you know.
You can sense the anticipation in his messages, and it matches your own.
you: Well, I better let you go, cowboy. I've got a lot to do before bed. But I'll be thinking about you... and your impressive horse. 😉
cowboy_jm: Haha, I'll be thinking about you too, darlin'. Take care, and I'll see you soon.
As the evening winds down, Joel finds himself unable to shake the conversation from his mind. The image of you in that schoolgirl outfit, the sound of your voice as you called him 'daddy', the thrill of exchanging messages with you—it all feels like a dream, a forbidden fantasy come to life. He tries to focus on other things, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you.
The next day, Joel wakes up with a sense of nervous anticipation. He's supposed to go over to your dad's house and the thought of it sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He tries to push the thoughts of your online interactions out of his mind as he gets ready, reminding himself that he's just going over to hang out with his friend. But the image of you in that plaid skirt keeps creeping back into his thoughts, making it hard for him to concentrate on anything else.
—
As he pulls into the driveway, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what's to come. He walks up to the front door, his heart pounding in his chest. Your dad greets him with a firm handshake and a warm smile, completely oblivious to the secret between his best friend and his daughter. When he walks in he notices you're nowhere in sight, and can't decide if he's relieved or disappointed.
Your dad and Joel make small talk for a few minutes before your dad excuses himself to take a phone call, leaving Joel alone in the living room. And as if on queue you walk into the room with a confident stride, wearing the same plaid skirt from the video and a tight-fitting white blouse. You greet him with a playful smile, your eyes twinkling with mischief
"Hey, Joel," you say, your voice dripping with sweetness. "Can I get you something to drink?”
Joel feels his face flush with heat as he tries to maintain his composure. "Hey there, darlin', uh sure," he replies, trying to keep his voice steady. "You're looking... very nice today.”
You giggle and do a little twirl, the skirt flaring out slightly to give him a glimpse of your thighs. "Why, thank you," you say, batting your eyelashes at him. "You're looking pretty good yourself.”
Before he can say anything else you walk over to the fridge and bend over to grab a couple of drinks, your skirt rides up to reveal a glimpse of your bare pussy, so perfect and fuckable.
You hand him a beer and wink at him, your lips curling into a seductive smile. "Enjoy the view?”
Joel takes the beer from you, his hand shaking slightly. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his mind filled with images of you from the videos and the messages you've exchanged. He knows that he should excuse himself, that he should leave before things go any further, but he can't seem to tear himself away from you.
Just then, your father walks back into the room, oblivious to the tension between you. "Hey, Joel," he says, clapping him on the back. "I'm glad you could make it. Let's head out to the backyard. I've got the grill fired up.”
Joel nods and follows him outside, grateful for the distraction.
As the afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the backyard, Joel tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you. The skirt you're wearing teases him with its familiarity, a tangible reminder of the illicit videos he's watched late at night, alone in the darkness of his room. The way the fabric swishes around your thighs as you move—it's enough to make his head spin and his heart race in his chest.
You seem to revel in his discomfort, your eyes sparkling with mischief every time you catch him staring. You're the perfect picture of innocence and seduction, flipping burgers on the grill, laughing at your dad's corny jokes, all the while subtly taunting Joel with your every move.
With each playful glance, each coy smile, you're pulling him deeper into your web, ensnaring him with the promise of forbidden pleasures. And Joel, for all his attempts at normalcy, can't help but be drawn in.
He reaches for another beer, the cool bottle a welcome relief from the heat that seems to be building inside him. The alcohol loosens his inhibitions, making it easier to laugh at your dad's anecdotes, to join in on the conversation, even as his mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you.
As night approaches and the drinks continue flowing, your dad’s found his limit. He stands up from his lawn chair with a contented sigh. "Well, I think it's time for this old man to hit the hay," he announces, stretching his arms above his head. "You two kids have fun, but not too much fun, alright? Make sure you take the guestroom Joel."
You flash him a cheeky grin, the corners of your eyes crinkling with amusement. "Don't worry, Dad. We'll be good," you assure him, your gaze flicking briefly to Joel, who's suddenly found something incredibly interesting on the bottom of his beer bottle.
As your dad disappears into the house, the air between you and Joel grows charged with anticipation. The playful banter, the secret glances traded throughout the evening have led to this moment, where the unspoken promise of something more hangs heavy in the air.
The stars above twinkle with a knowing light, as if privy to the secret that simmers just beneath the surface. The night, once a backdrop to a casual gathering, now feels like an intimate cocoon, sheltering the two of you from the outside world.
Joel, with his guard lowered by the evening's camaraderie and the remnants of alcohol in his system, finds himself adrift in the sea of your gaze. The laughter and casual conversation that filled the air earlier has given way to silence.
You lean back in your chair, your eyes locked on Joel's and a mischievous smile paints your lips. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice low and teasing, "I've been thinking about our little chat yesterday."
Joel's heart skips a beat. "Oh? And what chat would that be, darlin'?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.
You lean forward, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "The one where you told me all about your - impressive horse," you say, your voice dripping with innuendo.
Joel nearly chokes on his beer, caught off guard by your boldness. He coughs and sputters, his face turning a shade of red that has nothing to do with the alcohol. "I... uh... “he stammers, his eyes darting nervously in the direction of the house. Joel feels the color drain from his face, his palms growing sweaty. He had hoped that the anonymity of the internet would keep his secret safe, but now, as he looks into your knowing eyes, he realizes that you've seen right through him this entire time. "I... uh... I'm not sure what you're talkin’ about," he stammers, his gaze darting nervously around the backyard.
You laugh, a soft, melodic sound that sends a shiver down Joel's spine. "Oh, come on, cowboy," you say, using his nickname on the site. "You don't have to be so shy about it."
Joel's eyes widen in shock, and he feels his face flush with heat. "How did you-?" he begins, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.
"Let's just say I have my ways," you reply, your smile widening. "what's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost.”
Joel runs a hand through his hair, his mind reeling. He had never imagined that his online interactions with you would spill over into the real world, and he's not sure how to handle the situation. "I just... I didn't think you knew it was me," he admits.
You lean back in your chair, your gaze never leaving his. "Well, I did some digging, and let's just say your profile picture was a bit of a giveaway," you say, a hint of amusement in your voice.
Joel feels his face grow even hotter, if that's possible. He had been so careful, so cautious, and yet, here he is, exposed and vulnerable.
"What's the matter, Joel? Scared?"
“It's not that, darlin'," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... complicated."
"Life's complicated, cowboy," you say, your voice steady and sure. "But sometimes, you've just got to take the reins and ride it out.”
Before he can respond, you stand up and extend your hand towards him, a silent invitation to follow you into the unknown. Joel hesitates for a moment, his mind racing with the potential consequences of what he's about to do and what you could possibly be offering. But in the end, desire wins out over caution, and with a resigned sigh, he places his hand in yours.
You lead him through the quiet house, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting. As you reach the guest room, you pause and turn to face him, your hand resting on the doorknob.
"This is where you'll be sleeping tonight, cowboy," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "But remember, I'm just down the hall if you need anything.”
With that, you give him a playful wink and disappear down the hallway, leaving him standing there, his heart pounding and his mind filled with images of what he thought was going to happen and what might happen if he takes you up on your offer.
—
The next morning, Joel wakes up with a slight headache, the sunlight streaming in through the curtains. He sits up in bed, rubbing his temples, and tries to piece together the events of the previous night. His mind is foggy from the alcohol, but the memory of you in that skirt is crystal clear.
He gets up and stumbles out of the guest room, his bare feet padding against the cool hardwood floor. He's still half-asleep, his thoughts are muddled and disoriented, and in his groggy state, he accidentally turns the wrong way down the hallway.
Before he knows what's happening, he finds himself standing in the doorway of your bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, and through the crack, he can see you lying on the bed, your legs spread wide, your hand buried between your thighs. You're completely lost in the moment, your eyes are closed and your lips are parted in a silent moan. You're wearing a thin pair of panties.
Joel's heart stops in his chest as he watches you, his breath catches in his throat. He knows he should turn around and leave, but he can't seem to tear himself away. He's transfixed by the sight of you, the way your body moves, the soft, needy sounds you make as you touch yourself.
And then, as if sensing his presence, your eyes flutter open. For a moment, you just stare at him, your gaze filled with surprise and desire. But instead of stopping, instead of pushing him away, you moan his name, your voice husky and full of need.
“Joel," you whisper, your fingers still moving in slow, deliberate circles. "I've been waiting for you."
Joel feels a jolt of electricity shoot through his body, his cock hardening in his boxers. He steps into the room, his movements slow and hesitant, and you beckon him closer with a curl of your finger.
"Come here, cowboy," you purr, pulling your panties to the side to give him a better view.
Joel's mind is a whirlwind of emotions as he steps toward the bed, his body acting on instinct despite the lingering doubts in his mind. He's acutely aware of the line he's about to cross, yet, the sight of you, so wanton and unashamed, is an irresistible siren call that he cannot ignore.
He reaches the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on the intimate display before him. The scent of your arousal fills the air, a heady perfume that makes his head spin. He watches as you continue to pleasure yourself, your fingers dancing over your clit with practiced ease, your hips bucking in response to your own touch.
"Touch me, Joel," you beg, your voice trembling with need. "I need to feel you inside me.”
Joel swallows hard, his hands shaking as he reaches out to touch you. His fingers graze your inner thigh, the skin soft and warm beneath his touch. With a gentleness that belies the hunger in his eyes, Joel slides your panties down your legs, exposing you fully to his gaze. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him—your pussy glistening with arousal.
Joel positions himself between your thighs, his gaze never leaving yours as he lowers his head to taste you. The first touch of his tongue to your heated core elicits a sharp gasp from you, your body arching off the bed in response to the sudden sensation.
"Oh, God, Joel," you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as he begins to explore you with his mouth. His tongue traces the contours of your pussy, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
He takes his time, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your body responding to his touch. His hands slide under your hips, pulling you closer, his tongue delving deeper into your depths. You can feel the tension building inside you, a coil of desire winding tighter with each passing moment.
"You taste so fuckin good, darlin'," Joel growls, his voice muffled by your flesh. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, your moans growing louder and more insistent as he continues his ministrations.
You're lost in a sea of sensation, your world narrowed down to the relentless rhythm of his tongue and the feel of his hands on your body. "I'm close, Joel," you gasp, your body tensing as the first waves of your orgasm begin to crest. "So close..."
With a final flick of his tongue, Joel sends you tumbling over the edge. Your body convulses as the orgasm rips through you, your muscles clenching around his tongue as you cry out his name. The pleasure is almost too much to bear, a white-hot surge of ecstasy that leaves you breathless and shaking.
As the aftershocks subside, Joel crawls up the bed to lie beside you, his body humming with need. You turn to face him, your eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction, a sated smile playing on your lips. "That was... perfect," you murmur, your hand reaching down to stroke his rock-hard erection through his boxers. "But now it's your turn, cowboy."
Before Joel can respond, you're pushing him onto his back and deftly pulling down his boxers to free his straining cock. You lean down to take him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, your hand pumping the shaft in time with your movements. Joel groans, his hands fist the sheets as you work your magic on him. He can feel the pressure building in his balls, the telltale tingling that signals the approach of his orgasm. "Fuck, darlin'," he grunts, his body tensing.
“You're gonna make me come.”
You pull back, releasing him from your mouth with a wet pop. "Not yet," you say, a wicked gleam in your eye. "Wanna take that ride.” You straddle him, your hand guiding his cock to your entrance. You sink down onto him with a moan and your body stretches to accommodate his girth. Joel grips your hips, his eyes locked with yours as you begin to ride him, your movements are slow and deliberate.
The sensation of being inside you is almost too much for Joel. He can feel every inch of your tight, wet pussy as you move on top of him, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. "You feel so fucking good, darlin', so fuckin good,” he groans as his hands move to cup your breasts.
You lean forward letting your lips brush against his ear. "I want you to fuck me, Joel," you whisper, your voice thick with desire. "Fuck me like you've been dreaming of."
With a low growl, Joel flips you onto your back, his body covering yours as he drives into you with deep, powerful strokes. You wrap your legs around his waist, your fingers dig into his back as he pounds into you, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoes through the room.
"Yes, Joel, yes!" you cry out as your body arches off the bed. "Harder, fuck me harder!"
Joel obliges, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor, each thrust pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And then, with a final, brutal thrust, you're both coming, your bodies shudder in unison as you ride out the waves of your orgasms.
As the last spasms of pleasure wrack your bodies, Joel collapses on top of you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You lie there for a moment, basking in the afterglow, your bodies still intimately connected. Then, with a playful grin, you nudge him with your hip. "So, cowboy, how was that ride for you?"
Joel lifts his head and his eyes meet yours. A slow smile spreads across his face. "Darlin'," he drawls, "that was the best ride of my life."
You laugh, the sound light and carefree. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did. We should probably get cleaned up before my dad wakes up."
Reluctantly, Joel pulls out of you and rolls onto his back. You sit up, stretching your arms above your head, and then climb out of bed. You pad over to your dresser and pull out a pair of clean panties and an outfit, then turn to face Joel.
"Coming?" you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.
Joel grins and gets out of bed, his eyes roaming over your body. "Yes, ma'am," he says, saluting you with a mock-serious expression.
You both head to the bathroom, where you shower. As Joel steps under the spray of hot water, you take a moment to drink in the sight of him. The water cascades down his broad shoulders, tracing the contours of his muscular back and flowing over the firm swell of his ass. You allow your gaze to travel back up to his face, watching as the water beads on his skin, runs down the sharp angles of his jaw, and drips from the tips of his lashes.
Joel turns, his movements languid and unhurried. The water washes over his chest, highlighting the definition of his muscles and the ridges of his abdomen. A smattering of greying hair adorns his chest, trailing down his stomach to form a line that disappears beneath the water. His cock, still semi-hard from your earlier escapades, rests against his thigh.
For a moment, you're lost in the sheer masculine beauty of him. He's not a young man, but there's a timeless quality to his physique, a sense of strength and resilience that transcends age. You can't help the surge of attraction to him like a primal pull.
Joel catches you staring and a slow, knowing smile spreads across his face. "See somethin you like, darlin'?" he drawls, his voice thick with amusement.
You feel a flush of heat creep into your cheeks, but you refuse to look away. "Maybe I do," you retort, your gaze locked with his. "Do you have a problem with that, cowboy?"
Joel chuckles. "No problem at all, feel free to look your fill."
You step forward and reach out to trace the line of hair that bisects his chest. His skin is warm and slick beneath your fingers, the muscle beneath firm and unyielding.
Joel's smile fades, replaced by a look of intense concentration as he watches you explore his body. Encouraged by his reaction, you drop to your knees in front of him, your hands sliding over the wet skin of his hips. Joel's breath hitches as you lean forward and press a kiss to his stomach, just above the line of hair that leads to his rapidly hardening cock.
You look up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of innocence and lust. "I want to taste you, Joel," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water. "I want to feel you in my mouth."
Joel groans, his hands tangling in your wet hair as he guides you closer. His cock is fully erect now, the head flushed with arousal and beaded with moisture. You part your lips and take him into your mouth, the taste of him mingling with the clean, fresh scent of the soap.
Joel's hips jerk in response to the sensation, his fingers tightening in your hair. "Fuck, such a good girl for this ol’cowboy.”
You hum in acknowledgment, the vibration sending a shudder through his body. You can feel his control slipping, his movements becoming more erratic as you work him. With each stroke of your tongue, each suckling kiss, you're pushing him closer and closer to the edge.
"I'm gonna come, darlin'," Joel warns, his voice strained. "If you don't want to swallow, you better pull back now."
You respond by taking him deeper, your hands gripping his ass as you suck him with renewed vigor. Joel's control snaps, his body tensing as he erupts in your mouth. You swallow reflexively, the salty-sweet taste of his release filling your senses.
As the last spasms of his orgasm subside, Joel pulls you to your feet and captures your lips in a searing kiss.
As the water from the shower begins to cool, Joel reaches out and turns off the faucet, the sudden silence punctuated only by the sound of your shared breathing. He steps out of the shower first, taking a moment to grab a fluffy towel from the rack and wrapping it around his waist. Then, with a gentlemanly gesture he offers you his hand to help you step out onto the mat.
You accept his help with a grateful smile, your fingers curling around his as he assists you. He takes another towel and begins to gently dry your body, his movements tender and unhurried. The care he takes with you, the way he looks at you with a mixture of awe and desire, makes you feel cherished and beautiful.
Once you're both dry, you lead him back to your bedroom, the cool sheets a welcome relief against your warm skin. You crawl onto the bed, your body still humming with the aftereffects of your shared pleasure, and Joel follows suit, lying down beside you. For a moment, neither of you speaks. There's a sense of contentment that fills the room.
Joel reaches out and takes your hand in his, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your palm. "That was... something else, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.
You turn to face him, your eyes locking onto his. "It was," you agree, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I'm glad you took a chance on me, cowboy."
He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. "I think it's safe to say that I'm the one who got lucky."
You giggle, the sound light and carefree. It feels good to let go of the tension, to bask in the afterglow without overthinking the situation.
As the morning wears on, you both dress, the reality of the day ahead slowly beginning to intrude on your private world. You know that eventually, you'll have to face your dad, to pretend that nothing has changed, but for now, you're content to linger in bed with Joel, the world outside temporarily forgotten.
When you finally emerge from your room, you find your dad in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. He looks up as you enter, a smile spreading across his face when he sees the two of you together.
"Well, good morning, sleepyheads," he greets. "I hope you two weren't up too late."
You feel a flush of heat creep into your cheeks, but you manage to keep your expression neutral. "Not too late, Dad," you reply, your voice steady.
Joel, for his part, seems completely at ease, his years of friendship with your dad serving him well in this moment. He claps your father on the back and grins. "You know how it is. Once you get to talking, the time just flies by."
Your dad nods, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. He stands up from the table and stretches, his joints popping in the quiet of the kitchen. "Well, I'm glad you two had a good time. How about some breakfast?
Throughout the meal, you're acutely aware of his presence, the knowledge of what lies beneath his clothes, the feel of his skin against yours, the taste of him on your lips. It's a heady secret, one that you carry with you as you navigate the normalcy of the morning.
Eventually, the meal comes to an end, and Joel stands up, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I should probably be heading home," he says, his gaze meeting yours. "I've got a few things I need to take care of today."
Your dad nods, pushing back his chair and standing up as well. "I understand. Thanks for coming over. We'll have to do it again soon."
You walk Joel to the door, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the first time you've been alone all morning since the shower. He turns to face you, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I had a great time, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "Thank you for... well, for everything."
You smile up at him, your eyes shining with emotion. "I had a great time too, Joel. Take care, okay?"
He nods, his hand dropping back to his side. "You too, pretty girl."
With a final, lingering look, Joel turns and walks away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the morning. You close the door behind him and lean back against it, your mind racing with the events of the past 24 hours.
As you make your way back to the kitchen, your dad looks up from the dishes he's washing and gives you a smile. "He's a good man, that Joel," he says, his voice filled with a warmth and affection that only comes from years of friendship. "I'm glad you two get along so well."
You nod, a sense of peace settling over you. "Yeah, Dad. He’s really good.”
And as you help your dad finish the dishes, the memory of Joel's touch, the sound of his voice, the taste of his kiss, all of it lingers in the back of your mind, a sweet reminder you can only hope happens again and again.
