#pedro pascal x yn
Text
Mr Miller’s birthday gift || Dbf ! Joel x reader
Summary: You meet your dad’s best friend at the bar where you’re celebrating your birthday.
CW: Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 36). Joel knew her since she was a teenager. oral sex (f receiving), alcohol, p in v, unprotected sex, he talks you through it, praise kink, rough sex, domestic Joel, implied death of a loved one, this is 3k words (you can just skip to the porn, I won’t be mad).
The bar was already vibrating with low music, the lights were warm and yellowish. It was a busy Saturday night, well as busy as it can be for a small-town lounge. The place was mostly occupied by older gentlemen, except for your group of girls.
It was your 22nd birthday and it was the less sketchy place to have your party. You didn’t love it, but your friends said you probably wouldn’t have to pay for any drinks that night, as the men would shower you with gifts, hoping to get lucky. Anyway, you were thankful to be with your best friends Samantha, Bianca and Allison.
You were probably on your third shot paid by a stranger. You were dancing close to your friends, even though it wasn’t really the bar where people would dance. The soft fabric of your black dress would shimmer elegantly under the lights.
“Holy shit. Is that Mr Miller and his brother?” asked Allison while looking at the door who had just opened to let the two handsome men enter. Your gaze followed hers. The men were… infamous in your neighborhood to be real eye candy. To make matters worse, Joel was your dad’s best friend. They went to school together and they really hit it off even though Mr Miller was a few years younger than him - your dad wasn’t really the mature kind anyway. They had lost each other for a while before reconnecting when you were a teenager.
“Yes. Fuckfuckfuck.” You muttered, before asking for a glass of water, hoping to get down from your slight buzz. You didn’t want him to see you drunk right as he got here.
As you were drinking the lukewarm water, your eyes met with his soft brown irises. You couldn’t do as if you didn’t see him. Especially since he was waving at you. You shot him a smile and your friends pushed you to go and talk to him.
“Hey hun’, didn’t think I’d see you this bar for old men.”
“Well, you know… it’s my birthday so… There are few places where you can party in this awful town.” You smiled awkwardly as you tucked some of your hair behind your ear covered in various piercings.
He slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Shit, I totally forgot. I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you.” There was a way he could make it up to you, yes. You blushed slightly as you thought about it.
He would always bring you gifts for your birthday since you could remember. He was a caring man, really. You were totally crushing on him since, well forever. Even though it was really weird because he was so close to your dad, and he knew you since when you were a teen. But… you were an adult now, right? You could do what you want.
“N-No worries, Mr. Miller!” You looked awkwardly at his brother, who smiled at you. “Well, I’ll let you enjoy your evening. Hope Sarah is doing well.”
Sarah was his adorable tween daughter. You would babysit her when she was younger. Joel was a widow, and you didn’t know much about his past, as he didn’t like talking about it.
He went to sit at the bar with his brother. You went back to your friends who were clutching to you like they were hungry for gossip.
“God, what did he say?” Whispered Bianca.
“Nothing important! He didn’t get me a gift, can’t blame him, but he said he would make it up to him. Now, the subject is over. Please fetch me a drink.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You went on with your evening without really thinking about it, until the barman brought drinks to your table that were from Tommy and Joel. You felt like you were melting in the floor, you wanted to disappear. But still, you took the shot, while looking in his direction. He locked eyes with you and smiled. You were starting to feel the heat.
“He totally wants to fuck you.” Whispered Allison.
You spat half of the shot on the table.
“He doesn’t seem like the type to like younger women. He was married and he’s super serious.” You argued.
“Stop being delusional, he’s been looking since he entered the bar. And we all know you’ve been crushing on him since you were a teen, he was like your sexual awakening. What are you waiting for?” Said Samantha.
“Oh my god, stop.” You were starting to get fed up. You didn’t want your friends feeding into your delusions and make you think that this was more than it was.
Frustrated, you got up to ask for more water and of course, you bumped into him.
“Y’okay?” He asked.
“Yes, my friends were just being inappropriate and saying how hot is Tommy.” You lied to get your revenge.
The men both laughed, and Joel patted his brother on the shoulder.
“You still got it. I don’t.” Mr Miller laughed.
You finally got your water.
“Sorry for the bother, Joel… ehm… I mean, Mr Miller.” You didn’t know why you apologized, but it was automatic. You always apologized even though you had no reason to do so.
You went back to your friends and drank your water. Later, you ate a cake that was made by Bianca, and you all kept drinking until it was time to go. Still, you were careful and drank a lot of water. You certainly drank less than the girls and you were feeling okay, but not enough to drive. You felt tipsy, but you could still walk and think mostly straight.
The girls called a taxi and when you were leaving with them, Joel and Tommy were leaving at the same time.
“Hey, y/n, I was just dropping Tommy off, do you also want a ride?” He asked.
The girls pushed you more towards them to encourage you.
“Y-yeah, that would be really nice actually.” You tried to smile.
You hugged the girls before following the men. Tommy let you sit at the front, which made things more awkward for you. You kept fidgeting with your jewelry as soft music filled the truck. You tried looking outside, but sometimes, you’d turn your head to catch a glimpse of Mr Miller’s side profile. He had a nice strong jaw and a bump on his nose that you found adorable. Small wrinkles formed around his eyebrows as he was concentrating on the road.
Finally, he dropped off Tommy, you gave him directions to the building where you lived as you did some small talk. You texted your dad to tell him you were almost home and safe. You didn’t address that Joel was the one who drove you, though. Your dad was always worried when you went out late.
You were 2 minutes away when Joel got a call. You picked it up for him and put it on speaker. It was Sarah.
“Dad, Lea and I are going to sleep now, just wanted to say goodnight. See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight baby girl. I’ll pick you up around 10 and we’ll get breakfast together. Love you.”
You hung up for him and he thanked you. You tried to ignore the way you felt your body melt as you heard the sweet nickname. He was a really sweet dad, really.
Joel parked his car behind the building to make sure you’d make it home safe. He didn’t like the idea of dropping you off in the streets. You cleared your throat, feeling your heart thumping loudly in your chest. You wanted to be bold, and maybe the alcohol you consumed helped a little.
“Mr Miller, you know, what you said about making it up to me?” He turned to you, looking at your face attentively.
“Yeah, what about it, darlin’?” The nickname was rolling on his tongue because of his stupidly charming southern accent.
You bit your lip. “Do you…” You leaned into him, elbow resting on the middle console of the car to support your upper body. He followed your movements and you saw him swallow nervously. “Do you want to come inside?” His eyes moved down to your lips, his long lashes covering most of his irises. You took that as a sign and pressed your lips against his. It was soft, timid at first, until he cupped your cheeks with his hands and leaned more into you, his tongue licking at your lips to ask for entry. You opened your mouth slightly to let him taste you and let yourself taste him. He tasted like the beers he had consumed. You couldn’t help the whimpers that died against his lips.
Your lips went their separate ways when you had to gasp for air. Joel seemed like he was hesitating, fingers tapping nervously on his steering wheel. You instantly panicked.
“I’m sorry, I guess I… misinterpreted…” You were opening the door, but he stopped you, holding your wrist.
“It’s just… are you sober enough? I don’t know if you’re just too drunk to understand who I am. And I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“Mr… Joel… I am. I want this. Please. If… if anything, I’m the one taking advantage of you here.”
He let out a shaky breath. “God. Don’t tell your dad.”
You agreed and got out of the truck, as he followed closely to you. You held his arm to keep him even closer and you almost ran to your front door. He kissed you again in the elevator, hungrily, this time, giving you a taste of what was coming.
On the 3rd floor, you went out of the elevator, and you fumbled with your keys until you found the right one and opened the door. You almost banged it shut. He grabbed your waist to bring you closer, mouth attaching to yours as you were guiding him blindly to your room.
“I always thought you were… so pretty and nice…and soft… but I didn’t want to be a creepy 36 years old man hitting on you…” He said between kisses.
You laid your back on your soft bed, making him hover his body on top of you. His strong thighs straddled your waist, making you feel every inch of him.
“Stop. I had a crush on you since I first met you.”
He laughed softly, a smile accentuating the small wrinkles around his eyes. Your hands caressed the soft flannel fabric of his green checkered shirt, before undoing the buttons. He helped you take off the black t-shirt that he was wearing underneath. You drank in every centimeter of tan skin you discovered there. He was already naturally tan, but the fact that he mostly worked outside brought out the delicious color of his skin even more. He wasn’t the most fit man, and he had a bit of a tummy, but his arms were strong and inviting. Every part of him looked soft.
“You’re perfect, Mr Miller.”
The name went straight to his dick.
“You’re gonna have to stop calling me like that, hun’.”
“Or else?” You asked teasingly.
His rough working hands brushed over your thighs, before pulling up slowly your shimmering dress. You helped him get it off, revealing a black lace bralette and matching panties.
“Or I won’t be able to control myself.”
The dress joined his shirt on the ground, becoming one in the pile of laundry. His hands caressed delicately the skin he discovered, your soft tummy, the smooth skin of your chest.
“I’m okay with that, Mr Miller.” You whispered near his ear, before nipping at his earlobe. You laughed as your nose brushed against his scruffy beard.
He groaned and held down your wrists, moving you away from him and keeping you stuck against the mattress. He bent the top of his body over yours, lips tracing the line of your neck, your chest, your belly, slowly going down on you. He finally placed a soft kiss on one of your thighs.
“So pretty… yet, so fucking bratty.” He sighed as his fingers traced the outline of your cunt, feeling the wetness already ruining your lace panties. A breath got stuck in your throat, your body squirming, asking for more.
His plush lips replaced his fingers, placing kisses on your clothed wetness. Your fingers curled in his soft hair, pushing him closer. He softly slapped your thigh and you let him go.
“Please, Joel. I wanted this since forever.”
He smirked as he looked up at you, brown eyes filled with lust.
“Use your words, hun’. Be precise.”
“God. Please eat me out. Please please please.” You begged, already a mess, even though he barely touched you.
He seemed satisfied with your begs. Two fingers pulled down your panties, before discarding them somewhere in the room. He buried his face between your thighs, and he licked from the bottom to your clit, testing the waters.
You let out a swear word under your breath, hands coming back to his brown curls. He laughed softly, his breath hitting your wetness and making you shiver.
“You’re such a mess already. Dirty little girl.”
You pulled on his curls to bring him closer, and he finally committed to the part, tongue curling around your bundle of nerves, making you squirm against him. Joel put a hand on your lower tummy to keep your body down.
“You taste so fucking sweet, hun’. Knew you’d be so good for me.” He praised, before his tongue pressed harder against you, putting more pressure in each movement. You felt your body tremble under each lap of his tongue, moaning openly for him.
His fingers parted your folds so you would feel everything directly in your nerves. Two fingers collected your wetness and stimulated you, discovering every part of that sweet cunt. He left a kiss on your clit, before sucking it in his mouth. That sent you over the edge so quickly.
“G-Gonna cum, god, please… Joel…” He sucked even harder as you came undone under him, trembling, and closing your thighs under the impact of the orgasm. He guided you through it, being patient and waiting for you to settle down.
His face went back to face yours, before kissing you softly, making you taste yourself on his mouth.
“Take off your pants, I-I want to suck you…” You moaned against his lips, hands clumsily finding his leather belt.
“Not tonight hun’, as much as I want you to. It’s your birthday, not mine. So instead, I’ll fuck you, okay?”
You held his gaze and nodded. You’d let him do anything he wanted. He finally took off his pants and his boxers at the same time. Your gaze traveled down his hips to discover what you had imagined so many times. He was even bigger than you had seen through his tight jeans.
“Like what you see?” He asked flirtatiously.
“Yes. Better than I imagined when I was touching myself.”
“You thought about me like that, hun’?”
You nodded and helped him take off your bra, freeing your breasts.
“What would your old man say, hm? His sweet girl thinking about his best friend while masturbating...” He whispered before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking softly to make it harder. His other hand grabbed your other boob, his fingers pressing softly into the flesh.
“He doesn’t need to know, Joel.” Your fingers tugged on his curls to make him stop. “Stop making me wait. Please fuck me.” You begged.
The older man finally obliged. His hands spread your thighs.
He suddenly stopped to ask. “Do you have condoms?”
“No, we don’t need them. Getting checked regularly and I’m on the pill. I want to feel you. Please.”
His hand held the base of his cock as he inserted himself slowly in your dripping hole. You tried to relax as much as you could to ease the pain. Seeing you wince under his insertion; he pressed a kiss against your mouth to soothe you. His soft brown eyes were looking attentively at your expression.
“You okay, hun? You still want this?”
“Yes. Just let me… just let me adjust. You’re fucking huge.”
“I know, I know, sweet girl. You’re doing good.” He shushed you, caressing your cheek as he finished inserting himself completely. You melted into his touch like you were starving for him.
You concentrated on your breath and your walls adjusted eventually. Joel was patient, caring. As always. You moved your hips to show him that he could start thrusting into you. He put his hands on each side of your head as he expertly moved his hips. Your hands came up to his cheeks to pull him into a soft kiss.
It hit you all at once. You were in love with Mr Miller. But you didn’t say anything, you just kept kissing him, muffling your whimpers against his mouth.
“How do you like it, hun’?” He asked as he let go of your lips to hide in the crook of your neck, leaving kisses there.
“Rough. Hard. Unless you’re too old to provide.” You teased with a smile.
“Watch your mouth, girl.”
His body suddenly left yours, leaving you empty and wanting more. He flipped your body over and held you by the hips to lift your ass up, as he thrusted forcefully back into you. You bit into your pillow to stop yourself from screaming. He seemed amused by your reactions, and he kept a fast and hard rhythm, the sound of your skin slapping filling the silent room.
“F-Fuck, Mr Miller…”
You moved your ass against him to feel him more, and he slapped your butt cheek, hard. You sobbed his name and your body fell back into the mattress. This didn’t stop him. He kept thrusting harshly into you as his fingers held your ass.
“Where do you want me, hun’?”
He pulled on your hair to lift your head and hear your response.
“Cum in me, please.”
His hips stuttered as he shot his warm liquid between your walls. You whined as he pulled his dick away from your hole. Even though your whole body was sore, you managed to get up and run to the bathroom, as Joel looked at you with an amused grin.
***
When you came back to your room, Mr Miller was still here, laid on your mattress, only wearing his boxers. You found clean panties in a drawer and joined him, your small body finding his warmth. He put his strong arms around you.
“Happy birthday.” He whispered as he smelled your hair.
“Thank you. It may be the best birthday. Whatever dad bought me… it doesn’t beat this gift.” You lifted your chin to steal a kiss from him. You bathed in his warmth and his spicy perfume, refusing to think that this was the last time you would do this. Still, it was in the back of his mind.
You eventually fell asleep in his arms, and he refused to move, not wanting to wake you up.
***
You woke up before him and you were grateful for this opportunity: you took the time to drink in the sight his peaceful expression and the soft curls sticking to his forehead. You got up slowly not to wake him up and found his flannel shirt on the ground. You took it in your hands, feeling the soft fabric, before stealing it to wear it around the apartment.
You made coffee and the sound of the machine woke him up. He joined you in the kitchen, looking groggy and tired. You sat up on the counter as you looked at him with an amused smile.
“Hi.” You said joyfully.
He approached you and pressed his hips between your legs as he leaned in for a kiss. “Hi, hun’. You look good in my shirt.”
He looked at the time and sighed. “I have to take a shower and then pick up Sarah. M’sorry… I wanted to stay.”
“It’s okay.”
You pointed him to the bathroom and before he disappeared, you said his name. He looked at you through the door.
“Is this the last time, Joel?” It felt weird, intimate, saying his first name now that you were fully sober and awake.
“’Course not.”
You stopped the coffee machine and joined him in the bathroom, leaving a kiss on his lips before disappearing with him in the bathroom.
“We may… have time for a quickie before I leave, hm?”
You laughed and your bodies found each other in the heat of the shower.
#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x yn#joel miller x y/n#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x yn
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
I've Got You (Dbf!Joel Miller x Reader)
Masterlist | Request here!
Summary: When a date set up by your father goes wrong, your secret boyfriend and Dad's best friend races to protect you.
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, attempted sexual assault, abusive language, reader's date is a tory prick, soft!dom!Joel, blowjob, unprotected sex, use of pet names.
A/n: So... this is my first time writing smut. I am super proud of this one, so please let me know what you think! Requests are open so for more Joel/Pedro action, you know where to find me x
Dating your Dad’s best friend is hard. And stupid. Really, you have no clue why either of you thought this'd be a good idea. But you were so far down this path now, so entangled in late night meet-ups and whispered phone calls and unspoken thoughts that sounded a lot like ‘I love you’, that it was too late to turn around and steer the sinking ship of this utter mess back to shore.
More than anything, you hate not having any normalcy with him. You can’t fall straight into his arms after a hard day. You can’t cuddle into his side with a bowl of popcorn watching crappy weeknight telly. You can’t go to the store together, holding hands and making him laugh as you insist on buying a flavour of ice cream that you know he’d love. And it sucks.
Because everyone said Joel would never be one to settle down. He’s too wild, too rough to fit into a polished little box like that. And you’d thought the same. Until you fucked him, then fucked him again, and kept going back until you could see the pain in his eyes each time you left. You could practically feel the heaviness settle in his stomach as you left his bed to sneak back home. It hurts him as much as it does you, and if you weren’t so incredibly in love with him, that would’ve been enough to make you run.
Despite how long you’d kept this going now, a good 6 months at least, it never got any easier. Especially when your Dad started talking about dating. He was protective, but more than anything he wanted to see you happy. So when you suddenly became distant, hiding in your room more often and going out on dates much less, he was concerned. Nowhere near as concerned as he’d be if he found out why you were acting that way, you thought, but concerned all the same.
So when he came home one day, beaming and shouting for you to come downstairs, you thought nothing of it. When he explained there was a new apprentice at his work that he thinks you’d like, you weren’t surprised. And when he told you he’d set up a blind date with said boy, you felt sick.
Because you really couldn’t get out of it. You tried.
“Dad, I just don’t feel like dating right now.”
“Oh come on, you used to have a new date every few weeks. I’m just worried about you. Matthew's really nice, and he likes the same shitty music you do-”
“It’s good music.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I just…” he paused, his worry painted on his face, and there's no way you could’ve said no to him. “Honey, I want you to be happy. I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently” - your best friend, you thought - “but I just need to know you’re okay. So give this a go, for me, alright? And if you have an awful time, that’s it, I’ll never set you up again.”
You sighed. He was right; it’s just one night, one date. One box you have to tick to relieve the pressure that comes from having an affair with your next door neighbour, the one more than twice your age, the one your Dad would call a brother. And besides, your Dad would be working an overnight job, so you’d be spending the night at Joel’s anyway. Something to look forward to.
“Okay, yeah. I’ll go. For you.”
He pulled you in for a hug, tight, and you hugged him right back because you really do hate having to keep this from him. He pulled away, smiling - “great! It’s tonight at 7. He’ll pick you up.”
“You already arranged it?!” You near enough shrieked, but he’d already sauntered off to the kitchen, giggling as he went.
Typical.
So that’s how you ended up here, at 6:55pm, waiting by the front door for Marcus - or Michael, or something like that - to pick you up. Your phone buzzes, Joel’s name flashing on the screen, that alone making you feel that much calmer.
You’d text him as soon as you talked to your Dad, letting him know about the date. He understood, and you loved that about him; he was mature, compassionate, and he was more than secure in the fact that no matter who you talked to, who flirted with you on nights out, who you were set up with… you’d always come back to him.
Don’t worry about tonight, baby. It’ll go quickly. I’ll leave the door unlocked for when you get back. Text me if you need picking up. J x
You smile at his initial at the end - it’s such a Dad thing to do, but it makes you happy, especially when he adds a little kiss. He only does that for you.
The sudden sound of a car door closing snaps you out of your thoughts, Joel’s text left on read as what you assume to be your date heads up the driveway. You take a deep, nervous breath, smoothing out your dress and heading to the door just in time for his knock.
You open the door, take a good look at your date, and he’s… okay. Not unattractive, per se. Though you’d come to accept a little while ago that being with Joel had soured your perception of pretty much every other guy. His dusty blonde hair is slicked back with gel, his teeth are way too white, and he’s dripped in designer clothing that just screams, “I have a trust fund.”
“Oh, hi! I’m Matthew.” Right. Matthew. “You must be (Y/N).” He leans in to peck your cheek, and all you can think about is how smooth his skin is as it grazes yours. Nothing like Joel’s coarse stubble that you love so much - especially when it leaves red patches on your cheeks, and your neck, and if you’re really lucky -
Matthew leans back a little, confused, and you’re brought out of your daydream. “Sorry, yeah, that’s me. (Y/N).”
Well, that was awkward.
You just need to get through these next few hours, you think to yourself, smiling at the boy and letting him lead you out of the house and into his car. You can’t help but glance towards Joel’s place across the street; it looks quiet tonight, though his truck is in the driveway, and as soon as you look up you’re sure you catch the living room blinds suddenly draw shut. You smirk.
──────
The date was going… okay. About as okay as a date you don’t want to be on, with someone you have no interest in, and another man constantly on your mind could go. You could see why your Dad liked him; smart enough, well-polished. His father was a partner in the company, you learned - oh, he’s a ‘Daddy’s credit card’ type you’d thought - and by all intents and purposes he was the sort of guy any parent would hope to see their daughter end up with.
It’s never that easy though, is it?
Because he isn’t rough around the edges like Joel. He doesn’t have his stature, or carry himself with the same brute certitude. You can’t imagine him fucking you up against the wall, working himself up until he’s almost animalistic, somehow using you and worshipping you at the same time. And you can’t see him wrapping you up so tightly afterwards, holding you close and whispering how good you were for me, how proud of you I am.
No, only Joel could do that, and that’s how you like it.
The bill comes, Matthew suggests you split it. You don’t mind. He takes out his credit card, flashing it in front of you. “This is my Dad’s. I can use it as much as I want.” He’s smirking like he’s got something to be proud of, and you really had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead you just smile, before paying your share and making small talk as you head out the door and towards his car.
“So, I thought we could head back to my place.”
You freeze. Yeah, no, not gonna happen. He’s got this shit-eating grin on his face, one you knew all too well from past college boyfriends - that’s a boy who thinks he’s getting some tonight. You shudder, wrapping your arms around your waist and trying to sound sincere as you reply, “this has been lovely, but I’ve got an appointment early in the morning” - not really a lie, if staying in bed with a man over twice your age getting fucked or cuddled or both counts as an appointment - “so I’d rather just head home.”
You reach for the passenger side door, but it’s locked. You try again, pulling on the handle, but it doesn’t budge. You realise then that he’s stepped closer, too close, crowding your vision as you turn to face him while keeping one hand on the door’s handle. He leans an arm against the roof of the car, right beside your head, staring you down.
“Oh, come on, (Y/N). I’ve got the house to myself tonight, it’ll just be us. I know that’s what you want, don’t be shy.”
His free hand pinches your chin, his touch aggressive where Joel’s is rough but careful, and he tries to close the already too-small gap between you.
You dodge him quickly, slipping out from under his arm and backing up, away from the car, away from him. Matthew just watches you, incredulous, before laughing to himself and taking a step forward. “Look, baby, I know you want this. What is it, are you scared your daddy’s gonna find out?”
“What? No, I-” you splutter, but he interrupts.
“Get in the car, (Y/N). You don’t have to worry about anyone finding out. I can see the way you look at me, I bet you’re dying to fu-”
A heavy sickness has flooded your stomach, your nerves shot from the sudden escalation of what was supposed to be a quiet, albeit tedious, night. But his words hit you, and before you can even think, you’re shouting back at him.
“You seriously think I want to fuck you? You can’t even pay your half of the bill with your own money. Fuck that. I’ll make my own way home.”
The smug look on his face is quickly washed away with anger, and you continue to slowly step backwards as Matthew follows you. A lick of fear sets in now as the pale streetlights cast shadows on his darkened expression, and you scold yourself for opening your mouth.
“The fuck did you just say to me? Do you know who my Dad is?” - this really isn’t a good time to roll your eyes - “You think you’re too good for me, you bitch? I’ll show you.”
He stalks you, and your eyes frantically dart back to the restaurant you’d just left, though you’d backtracked far enough to be almost at the door again.
People are dining and laughing, some just sitting and watching the world go by. You’re well within their view, and you turn back to see that Matthew’s gaze has followed your own and he’s connected the dots. He can’t do anything in front of them. He locks eyes with you again, scoffing, heading back to his car and loudly shouting something that sounded a lot like “fuckin’ bitch.” Nice.
He drives away; you’re safe, out of the situation, and as the relief floods you the adrenaline does too and tears prick at your eyes. You sit on a small bench just outside the restaurant, dotted with shrubbery and stains from spilt drinks you assume, and take out your phone.
Your last chat with Joel is already open, and you breathe slowly in an attempt to still your shaking hands as you type quickly,
Please come and get me. He was trying to get me to go back with him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s gone now but I have no ride home.
The text is marked as ‘read’ almost as soon as you send it, though you receive no reply. You didn’t expect to; Joel wasn’t much of a texter. Like, at all. He was slowly getting used to it, what with it being one of the only ways you could really talk when slipping over to his place was too risky.
In this particular instance, you already knew he’d have read the text, dropped his phone without a second thought and hurried to his truck while muttering to himself what he’s gonna do to the kid, how he won’t see what’s comin’ to him.
Just how badly Joel might react worries you. He’s protective, incredibly so when it comes to you, and that combined with his white hot temper was surely a recipe for some sort of disaster.
Secretly, though, you loved it. And so as you sat on that little bench, frosty air nipping at your skin, you couldn’t help but revel in the warmth that pooled in your core at the thought of what sort of beast Joel would become tonight.
──────
It only takes him around 10 minutes to reach you, and you know for a fact he must’ve ran a red light or two because normally it’s a 20 minute drive at least into town. You stand, walking over to his truck, but before you can hop in he’s already storming out and wrapping you up in his arms, shielding you, eyes darting across the street.
“Where the fuck is he?”
“Joel, I-”
“(Y/N) where the fuck is he? I’m gonna kill that little bastard. Fucking-”
His body is tense, far more so than usual, and anger pours from him in buckets. You pull away to look up at him, his eyes still searching for the boy long gone, and you sigh. “He’s gone, Joel. He left.”
He finally meets your eyes, a cold frown etched on his face, and he somehow looks even angrier than usual. “Did he touch you?” His hands roam your body, searching for you didn’t know what, but you let him do whatever he needed to relax. To know you were safe.
“No, Joely, he didn’t. I’m fine, I promise.”
It usually softens him right up, your little nickname for him. Joely. The first few times you used it, he’d just scoff or roll his eyes, but the small smirk that crept onto his face each time let you know he loved it. Quite how much he loved it was a different story; you hadn’t got together then, though the both of you wanted it, and as your relationship blossomed you became the only one he ever let call him anything other than Joel.
It doesn’t work this time, though, and he remains stern, finally letting you go and searching your eyes for even a hint of anxiety or fear. “What happened?”
“He tried it on, I said no. He tried again, I backed up and made sure there were people watching,” you nod towards the restaurant, still bustling with life. “And he left.”
Joel nods. “You tell him to fuck off?”
“‘Course i did.”
It seems as if he finally lets up then, giving you a proper hug, one arm around your neck and the other around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hard, and the tension leaves him. “That’s my girl.”
You squeeze him tight, burrowing into his shirt and inhaling the scent of him that you loved so much. With one arm around your shoulders, he guides you back to his truck, opening the door for you and helping you. He does it everytime, but it still makes you blush, and you’re sure his lips smirk slightly as your cheeks turn red. Worth it.
The ride back to home is quiet, only the sound of his radio and passing traffic echoing between you. He keeps a hand on your knee, always protective, and every now and then you rub your palm over it to let him know you appreciate it. To say thank you.
Joel was never good with words, and you’d learned over the last few months just how much he relies on touch to express himself. To show love. You’d picked up on his habits, his little signs, his way of telling you his deepest thoughts without having to speak a word.
And when you reciprocated, when you wrapped your hand around his, or brushed his side at the neighbours’ BBQ, or kissed his shoulder in the kitchen, you knew just what it meant to him.
Your driveway is empty as Joel turns onto your street - your Dad must have set off for work already. You sigh in relief; you didn’t have the energy to explain all this to him, and certainly not the energy to try and sneak into Joel’s without him seeing.
Joel steps out first, taking a quick look around to make sure no nosey neighbours were watching, a precaution you were both used to by now. He grabs the door for you again, holding your hand and helping you out, holding you close to his side as he unlocks the door and you both slip inside.
“What do you want to drink?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
He pauses, looking at you, concerned. ”No. You need somethin’ to drink. You need to- to lie down, or somethin’.”
You follow him into the kitchen as he stalks past you, not giving you time to answer and filling a glass with water and ice. “Drink,” he hands it to you.
You take it, thanking him and sipping as he watches. It’s sweet; he cares about you, so much, and when he looks at you like this you can’t help but feel butterflies swirl in your stomach.
“I’m sorry.” It’s almost a whisper, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard if it weren’t so still already in his house.
“Hm?” You look at him, confused.
“I’m sorry he did that to you. S’not - s’not right. I mean, shit, what if you couldn’t get away?” He was spiralling.
“Hey, hey. Joel, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You set down the glass and take him in your arms. He calms, instantly, holding you tightly against him and cupping the back of your head with his hand.
“You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”
“I know.”
He sighs. “I just wanna protect you, honey.”
“I know.”
He pulls back to look at you, framing your face with his hands and running his thumbs along the edge of your cheekbones. You lean in, letting his lips capture yours in that sweet but desperate way that only Joel can, and moan into his mouth. He slips his tongue against yours, letting one arm fall to your waist as his hand lingers around the hem of your jeans.
The kiss becomes desperate and you reach for his belt, your arousal becoming unbearable as the memory of him so full of anger and protectiveness spins in your mind like a carousel. He breaks the kiss and you groan, chasing his swollen lips with yours.
“We don’t have to do this.” His southern drawl is slick with need, his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. The moment is so sweet, so intimate, that any thoughts of what had happened today were long gone and your mind was full with sweepings of him.
“I want to.”
He grunts, pushing himself further into you so his nose brushes yours like a cat. So much so, you almost purr into him, and it makes you giggle. You curse yourself as he pulls back, cocking an eyebrow and giving you that stare you’d come to know all too well; you’re a pain in my ass, it says. But the corners of his lips turn upwards, and you step forward so you’re once again pressed right up against him, pressing gentle kisses to his jaw.
“You’ve had a big shock today, sweetheart,” he sighs.
You know he’s given up. You know he needs this as much as you do. But you humour him, and tip his head down so you can kiss his lips again.
“So make me forget.”
It snaps something within him, and you shriek as Joel sweeps you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist in instinct and your head burying itself in his neck. He laughs at the sound you make, something you’d always known to be so rare for him, but that he does far more often now he has you.
He carries you upstairs, gripping your thighs with his large hands, and the way he holds you so easily just turns you on more. He kicks his bedroom door open, all but throwing you on the bed and watching as you bounced softly on the sheets, undoing his belt that was already half-opened by your shaky hands.
“On your back. Lay your head towards me.”
You did as he said immediately, though your movements were slow, languid. He let you take your time; a part of you thinks he likes to watch you move for him, the way you put on a show, keeping your eyes locked on his and your lips slightly parted and puffy from his kiss.
You lie on your back, your head dangling off the edge, looking up at him upside down. The hard outline of his cock is just centimetres above you, swollen already, and your desperation to taste it must’ve shown on your face because Joel groans out a soft, strangled “fuck.”
“You need this cock, baby? Need your throat fucked?” You just nod rapidly, desperate for him to do something other than just stand there and watch you, your arousal becoming unbearable. Joel seems to break, too, pulling down his jeans and boxers and gripping his hard length in his hands.
It’s big at the best of times, but from this angle, his balls level with your eyes and his cock the only thing you can see when you look up at him, it’s painful how bad you need him.
You’d only discovered this position recently, on a night you’d spent at his place while your Dad was away with work, not unlike tonight. Joel had been floored, consumed with pleasure as the stretch of your spine made it so easy for him to slide himself through your mouth and down your throat, the muscles tensing around him and drawing his release much sooner than he’d have liked.
He slides the head of his cock over your lips, painting them in his precum. You whine, lapping at his taste, desperate but you know better than to lift your hands off the bed. No, you give him control, and he lavishes it.
“Open up, babygirl.”
You comply, parting your lips and moaning as Joel pushes inside, giving you no time to breathe. You try to control yourself, inhaling through your nose and letting your muscles relax before he bottoms out, his groin almost entirely covering your face and your throat full of his thickness.
It’s filthy, degrading, resigns you to nothing but his to fuck and use as he wants.
You love it.
“Such a good girl, baby. So good for me, ain’t ya?” You can hardly even nod as your tongue flicks along a particularly swollen vein. He begins to move, pulling out almost entirely before slamming his cock back into your mouth. You moan again, and it hurts, in that delectable way that’ll spend the next few days reminding you of this moment.
Joel’s got one hand on the wooden foot of the bed, keeping himself steady. The other finds its way to your neck, and he stalls as he feels his cock beneath your skin, rapidly pushing in and out. He moans your name, his hips rocking into you harder and harder, chasing a release you knew he wouldn’t let himself have just yet.
You’re completely at his mercy now, too consumed by his scent and his touch to think, and you hardly register him reaching for your hand and taking it in his own. He starts to mumble, and you only catch a few words - “my good girl. My girl. So- so fuckin’ pretty for me.”
He swells, your tongue working faster against him, his hand squeezing yours and his legs faltering when he suddenly pulls out and stands back with a whimper. Your eyes are glazed over, your sore throat misses him, and your pink swollen lips are trying to say something but you’re not sure what. It feels like his name.
“Come on, pretty girl, come here.” He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, wrapping his big arms around your back and guiding you into his lap.
His fingers dance over your entrance, collecting the slick that soaked your thighs before pushing a single finger inside, revelling in your arousal. He admires you as you squirm, rolling your hips against his hand, desperate for more and moaning against his lips.
It’s almost embarrassing how easy you unravel for him, and if it weren’t for your utter infatuation for the man, you’d have hidden your pleasure and at least tried to hold onto some sense of dignity. But you were obsessed, addicted to him, and he knew it. Because god, was he addicted to you, too.
He kisses you, letting another finger slip inside and catching your hiss with his mouth. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, opening his eyes to look at you, his cock twitching against your thigh.
“Tell me what you need, angel.”
“Y- you, Joel. I need you. Please.” You hardly register yourself saying the words, but they do the trick, as Joel removes his fingers and instead lines the tip of his cock with your soaking wet entrance.
“Please, please, fuck me. Fuck-”
He snaps his hips upwards, driving his cock into your cunt and you gasp as he stretches you. You grip at his shoulders, sure to leave marks, but you know he loves it.
He sets the pace, guiding you to bounce on his cock as his hips snap upwards again and again, fucking you so hard you can almost see stars.
His head is buried in your neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin, and you try to regain some autonomy and roll your hips side to side making him mewl.
“So - oh, fuck - so good baby, keep doin’ that.” He spurs you on as your breathless moans and the heavy slap of skin on skin fills the room, lewd but addictive.
The pace is brutal, unforgiving as your thighs tremble and you wonder if he’s feeling the burn of his movements. If he does, he doesn’t show it, just ramming into you and moaning your name against your ear.
His hand falls from your waist and finds its way to your clit, making you gasp as he circles his thumb around the spot. The near pornographic moan that falls from his lips as you roll into his touch is nearly enough to make you cum right there, but you know better than to cum before he tells you to.
Instead he hoists you further up, giving him better control of your hips, and angles his cock so it hits that perfectly raw spot deep inside you that has tears in your eyes.
“I- I’m gonna-”
“I know, baby. Just hold on for me. I’ve got you.” You cry at his denial, though it’s quickly forgotten as he flips you over onto your back, his head still tucked under the crook of your neck, his cock still buried inside you. He resumes his fast pace, reaching even deeper inside you with your legs locked around his waist, and you moan so loudly you worry someone’s going to hear you.
Joel doesn’t seem to care as he pulls back to look at you, marvelling at how utterly fucked-out you look for him. His pace starts to falter, each thrust more desperate than the last, and he frantically pushes his tongue into your mouth as you moan in unison.
“Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, that’s it.” You release on command, crying out as waves of pleasure spread like fire through your body, and the uncontrollable spasms of your orgasm make Joel groan as he spills inside you, still rocking into you and carrying both of your highs.
He doesn’t let his cock slip out of you as he wraps an arm under your back and rolls onto his side, holding you close as he brushes the matted hair away from your forehead and replaces it with a soft kiss. You hum, snuggling into him and trying not to gasp at the feeling of his cock inside you while you were still so sensitive. He can see you flinch and smiles, though he just wants you to rest for now.
“You okay, babygirl?” You just hum again, but he taps your chin and you look up.
“Answer me, angel.”
“I’m good. Tired.”
Joel nods, running his hand through your hair and agreeing, “me too.”
You’re quiet for a moment, almost dozing off as the heat that radiates from him lulls you gently to seep, when he breaks the silence again. “What’s his name?”
“Hm?” You reply, too fucked-out to really understand what he was saying.
“That little asshole. What’s his name?”
He’s looking down at you, brows knitted together, and you just sigh. “It doesn’t matter, Joel. He doesn’t matter. I promise.”
“But-“
You cut him off with a kiss, and the tension that built in his shoulders is quickly dissipated. “No ‘but’s. Get some sleep.”
“Aright,” he resigns. “I love you.”
It slips out, sudden, and he freezes before he realises the joy that’s spread across your face from his words. It’s the first time either of you have said it, and the way your eyes light up are enough to let him die a happy man. You nuzzle his nose, your hand gently lay on his chest, your eyes falling shut again. “I love you too, Joel.” He wraps you up tighter, grinning, happy. In love.. “And no asking my Dad, either.”
He scoffs, “I wasn’t going to!” You just cock a brow, eyes still shut, and though you can’t see him you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Let me get you cleaned up, sweetheart.”
He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince at the loss, and sits up on the bed. When you can still feel his weight beside you, you crack an eye open to see him quickly typing something on his phone, and you frown. “Joel?”
He startles and drops his phone, turning to you and kissing the top of your head. “Sorry, baby, I’m going - just gimme a sec to get you a warm cloth.”
As he leaves for the bathroom you snatch his phone, already knowing what he’d done. Your Dad’s name is at the top of the screen, the chat from just moments ago still open:
What’s the name of that kid (Y/N) went out with?
Matthew Wicks, he’s the new apprentice at work. Why?
Just wondered.
You’re weird, man.
Joel creeps out of the bathroom, frozen as he sees you lock his phone. He offers a small, guilty smile, quickly wiped away as you grab his pillow and playfully launch it at his chest.
“JOEL!”
──────
Thank you so much for reading! As ever, comments and weblogs are so appreciated, and please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics!
#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel x you#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x yn#dbf!joel x reader#dbf!joel#joel miller#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x yn#pedro pascal#tlou fic#tlou show
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
To the etenity and back| Pedro Pascal
Pedro Pascal x pregnant!reader
Summary: Pregnant reader gets jealous at Pedro for calling the interviewer 'mama'. When Pedro realizes he runs a relaxing bath and gives a massage.
KIND OF ANGST MOSTLY FLUFF
SMUT MINORS STAY THE FUCK AWAY
cw: pregnant sex, angry sex, unprotected sex, Pedrito being a heartthrob, jealousy, pet names (sweetheart, baby, babygirl), No y/n used, no proofread
(I have no idea about yes or no's in pregnancy sex so everything might be wrong)
(It's just a quick scribble so)
He walked in with a tired sigh leaving his lips. His black sparkly jacket fly to somewhere whike he dropped next to you. Yo didn't bother to say a word as you're angry with him.
"Hi baby. How was your day?" He held your hand and kissed your knuckles, waiting for your response.
"I'm alright, mama." Words left your lips covered in poison. Your voice came out with so much disgust and hate he had to straighten himself on the couch.
"What's wrong baby?"
"I don't know Pedro. Maybe you should ask that to that chick you call "mama"." He was all confused now. You're never the type to make a deal out of such a small word but now you were all angry. He looked at you puzzled as you struggle to get up on your feet.
"Baby, you know it was nothing. Why so much anger?" You finally managed to get up. Stepping in the room with anger.
"I'm the one carrying your child here and you're out there calling other women mama. You stupid bitch." You put your hands on your swollen belly caressing the exposed skin with your fingertips.
"Your father is stupid, baby. I hope you don't take after him." You spoke to your unborn baby with a soothing voice.
He walked to you in the hotel room. You came to Canada for The Last of Us premiere but you didn't feel good enough to attend so you stayed at the hotel watching the interviews on your laptop.
You're normally okay with him flirting with other people but when you saw him calling the interviewer 'mama' snapped something inside. You kinda knew it was because you felt bad about leaving him alone in this important night but you couldn't keep your anger down. You were six months along in your pregnancy and your hormones was driving you crazy.
Pedro hugged you from behind. His big hands found your swollen belly. His lips leaving light kisses on the apex of your neck.
"I'm sorry babygirl. If it bothers you that much, I will never do it again. Can you forgive me, baby?"
His words and his lips on your skin melted you into his chest. Your head fell back to his shoulder.
"I'm sorry. It's not me. It's the baby." He chuckled on your skin.
"I know. I know." His hands cupped your boobs thru the thin fabric of your shirt.
"How about I run a bubble bath for you, then a massage to relieve the stress, huh? Is it okay with you?"
"Yeah, I guess." You sat on the bed as you watched him strip out of his clothes to his briefs as he dissapeared into the bathroom. After a while he came out. Held your hand and walked you to bathroom.
"Let's get you naked." The bathroom was smelling like citrus and lavender. He took of the purple Lakers t-shirt you borrowed from him of your body. Then he took of your panties in a swift motion.
He sat on the edge of the bathtub as you get inside the perfect temp water.
"You need anything baby? Can I get you anything?" You shake your head signalling 'no'.
"Get in." He stripped out of his boxers and got in the tub. His hands slowly started to rub your back as he straddled you between his legs.
You melted into his touch immediately. Soft kisses on the small of your neck heated your skin. Teeth left small pecks on your soft skin.
"Babe," Your words melted into a moan. His hands cupped your already full breasts. Fingers rubbing the pebbled nipples.
"You're so gorgeous, sweetheart. Swollen with m'baby." You felt his cock press against your back. Getting harder as he kept kissing your body. You leaned against his chest. Your lower back trapping his lenght between the bodies. You started moving your hips to give him some more friction.
Pregnancy played with your hormones like a roller-coaster. You were either so angry or so sad, so happy or so anxious. And always horny. Whatever the situaiton was you always found something in Pedro to light a fire inside you. His big hand cupped your cunt under the water.
"You want me, my sweet babygirl? Hm?" You pressed yourself into his touch. Nodding in agreement.
"Words, baby."
"Yes, Pedro, please. I need you." He kissed you temple and left wet kisses to your jawline.
"Not in the water, cariño. Not good for you." He got up and lift you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as tight as your big belly allowed you to. Wrapped a towel around you as he lowered you on the bed.
"I love you, baby. Love of my life." He started kissing your neck and the place between your swollen breasts.
He found his place between your legs. Left sloppy kisses to your inner thighs. Hot breath hitting your wet core sent shivers to your body. As his lips wrapped around your clit you felt like your lungs was emptied out. He flattened his tongue on you. Licked your slit with long stripes.
His scruffy beard itched your thin skin.
"Pedro" He hummed over your clit as he kept ruinning you from between your legs. When his finger went inside your wet walls you clenched.
"Pedito, baby. I need you. Please."
He talked, his lips moving over your cunt.
"You need me baby? You need my cock?" You nodded but his warning popped on your mind.
"Yes, yes Pedro. Please, inside." He put another finger inside you.
"Let's get you ready, okay? I don't wanna hurt you." He pumped his fingers inside in a slow pace. His fingers curling to hit that spongy spot that made your toes curl.
"Keep going Pedro, I'm close." He kissed your clit again as his pace got faster enough to send lightning bolts to your head. Your eyes rolled back and sight got white with every thrust he burried his fingers to your wet hole. Your breaths got faster as your high washed over you. Your juice pooled between your legs,
"Pedro, I love you. I need you."
He got up to his feet, leaned over you. Pressed open mouthed kisses as his tongue met yours. Your taste on his mouth felt euphoric as the kiss got deeper.
He palmed himself and stroked few times to spread the precum on his lenght.
"I'll be slow baby." He rubbed his tip to your clit to collect some juices on it. When his tip got in he left a low groan hang in the air. He pushed himself more to your cunt.
"You alright, baby?" You nodded and hang onto his arms that was placed on each side of your head. He burried his head to your neck pecking and bruising the skin. He started pumping into you in a slow pace.
"You're so goos for me, baby. Always making me feel so good." Your walls squeezed his cock with praising coming out of his lips.
His hips pistoned into you. Wet sounds filling the big room as his moans got louder. He kissed every inch of your face.
“I love your big belly. It lets everyone know you’re mine. Filled with a piece of me. Lets everyone know that you’ll be connected to me till the last day. I’ll love you till my old heart stops. There’s nobody else for me but you. Like your body is made for me.”
His mumbles against your ear gave you goosebumps. He was drunken in your scent and your sight. His thrusts got deeper and reached delicious spots inside your soaked cunt.
You new every word just came out of his plushed lips was true. He was speaking with his heart not his mind at that moment. Tears filled your eyes knowing how much he loved you, and you were sure he was gonna love the baby as much.
“It’s made for you, Pedrito. I’m made for you. Just you.” You cupped his cheeks as his moves got messy. He locked his eyes with yours. Your lips meet in hunger. He never broke the kiss as your highs grew together. He never slowed his pace.
His lips twitched over yours.
"Cumming, babygirl." He talked on your lips.
"Me too, baby." His teeth caught your bottom lip as his white thick cum painted your walls. As you cummed at the same time as him. Your walls clenched on his cock, milking him to the last drop.
"I love you, cariño. I love you and our baby." He fell beside you while he's still inside you.
"I love you too, Pedrito. To the eternity and back."
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal x pregnant!reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x yn
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝒫𝒪𝒱: It's your birthday and your husband Pedro, who is traveling to record a new movie. He wanted to send you a nice video for your birthday to wish you the best and tell you that he misses you a lot, but when a colleague was helping him record Pedro, he had a nervous breakdown and instead of saying happy birthday he said merry Christmas and when it happened Realizing his mistake, he started laughing and all his friends laughed too.
#pedro pascal#x yn#triplehmunson#photography#pov#ynpov#pedro pascal x reader#my pov#pedro pascal x ofc#pedro pascal x yn#josé pedro balmaceda pascal#pedro pascal x oc#pedro x reader#pedropascal#pedrostories#pedro pascal x platonic!reader#pedropascaledit#pedro pascal x female reader#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal pov#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x pregnant!reader#javier pena x y/n#javier pena x reader#javier pena imagine
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Long Awaited Reward. {Dave York x F! Reader!}
Rating: Explicit.
Word Count: 15.8k
Warnings: Unhappy marriage, known infidelity, ?slightly forced hand, mention of car crash (no injuries), oral sex (m&f receiving), P in V sex, loss of virginity, fingering, cock warming, some feelings, derogatory language, aftercare.
Comments: Dave has been cleaning up after his wife for too long, and you tempt him with a proposition that he can’t resist.
Co-written with @absurdthirst ❤️
Gif by me: @pedropascalsx!
Carol York is perfect. She has the perfect family, the perfect house, the perfect car and her most prized possession; her perfect husband.
Everything about Carol York is perfect… or so it seems.
The truth is Carol York has her demons, skeletons that are piled up in her closet, haunting the rows of designer shoes and racks of glamorous gowns that seldom get to see the light of day.
But to anyone you may ask, they would likely describe Carol York as a perfectionist, kind, generous, charitable and all around the perfect housewife; but you knew otherwise.
You spotted her the moment she waltz into the hotel bar, clutching her designer purse in one hand and her phone in the other. She was with her usual group of friends, all equally as loud and pretentious.
Sitting quietly in the corner and picking at the rest of the food on your plate you rolled your eyes as her group of friends laughed so loudly it made the glassware shake, really you had no real reason to dislike her but you couldn’t help it. The whole stepford wives persona that they all exude simply leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
You think back to the first time you had met her about ten years ago, still in your teens and still in high school, she had loudly made a comment about how boys never notice the plain, boring ones while looking you up and down. Everyone had laughed along with her, even your mom, who then spent the next few weeks trying to talk you into buying a new wardrobe but you weren’t interested.
You left the bar before she did that night, sneaking out without her noticing you and pulling into your driveway about five minutes before you heard her speeding around the corner. Her brand new Mercedes squealing as she drove straight into Mr. Perkins’ Chevy. You opened your door to check on her but before you could step out, you saw Dave running towards her. She stumbled out of the car giggling as she admired the damage she caused, clearly enjoying the look of annoyance on her husband's face.
You couldn’t make out their conversation but you could tell he was furious, shaking his head as he pulled out his phone and made a brief phone call. Slowly, you started to close the door, not wanting them to see that you had witnessed everything and once the door was gently pushed shut you made your way to bed.
You woke up the next morning to a commotion outside your bedroom window, neighbours all lining up to get a look at the damage that had been caused by the selfish driver that had left no note and that’s when you saw her... Standing next to Mr Perkins shaking her head and pretending to be just as outraged as he was.
Over the next few days you had considered sending an anonymous note, or anonymously contacting the police but ultimately decided to keep quiet, despite the guilt that kept you from sleeping at night. It wasn’t your business and you weren’t about to go to war with the Yorks.
Carol could make your life hell. But Dave… Dave seemed like he’d be capable of so much more.
*
Dave growls as he rewatches the tape from a few days earlier, making sure that he hadn’t missed anything from that night. One of their neighbours had caught the whole thing on their RING doorbell camera but thankfully Dave was able to have Resnick hack into their accounts and delete all the footage and make it look like the camera had unfortunately stopped working a few hours before the accident.
It was only as he was about to delete the last trace of evidence from that evening he noticed it. Your door barely in the frame, opening a few inches and closing just as he got off the phone to Ari - who had managed to get the exact model Mercedes Carol owned and replace it with the damaged one before daylight began to fall across the neighbourhood.
“Shit.” He hisses as he slams his hand against his desk. Your parents were out of town on their cruise, so he knew that the person who witnessed his wifes reckless behaviour had to have been you. He ponders for a second why you hadn’t said anything yet and wonders if it’s worth just letting things sit… but decides that paying you a visit is the best course of action.
He slides his phone into his pocket and makes his way downstairs to his wife and kids… hating the way her face is buried into her phone as the girls watched Tangled for the 10,000th time this month.
“We need to talk, honey,” he says with a smile, as not to concern the girls. “Now.”
“Sure,” she says with a roll of her eyes, before following him into her ‘crafts’ room.
The second she waltzes in the room, he closes the door and swings around to face her with a look of fury on his face, “You had a fucking witness,” he scowls, “And she saw the whole fucking thing.”
“What?” Carol says in utter disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
With venom dripping from every word he tells her everything that he could make out from the video. How it was clear that you saw everything and how they had to pay you a visit and make sure that you keep your pretty little mouth shut and not ruin their comfortable little life in the unsuspecting suburbs.
*
The doorbell makes you jump, not expecting anyone and planning on having a quiet night in front of the TV with leftover chinese food and netflix, you groan as you pull yourself up and off your sofa.
“Evening,” a raspy voice growls at you, as the door swings open, “I think we need to have a little chat.”
Dave pushes past you and Carol enters right behind him as you step back in shock. Every single thing about Dave York is entirely intoxicating, his scent, his voice and the fact he’s the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on doesn’t help either. Even in the comfort of your own house, you’re being commanded by him and following him into your kitchen.
“Can I get you both a drink?” You ask after a few uncomfortable minutes, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your hands shake.
“No. Enough drinking.” Dave cuts his eyes towards Carol, annoyed that he’s in this position. If it weren’t for the fact that the bitch knows what he does, would threaten to tell everyone, he wouldn’t bother fixing this mess she got herself into. “Sit down.” He orders, kicking the chair opposite him out from under the table.
“Yes, sir,” you say with a gulp, unsure why you addressed him with such authority. “How can I help you?” You ask meekly.
“Have fun the other night?” Dave’s eyes are flat, emotionless as he leans in to stare into your own. Using the intimidation that comes so easily to him.
“Wha-what do you mean?” You stutter, your body almost frozen in fear as you look over at him.
“Going out.” He doesn’t expand on that, wanting you to spill what you know without him giving you anything more.
“I went out for a meal with a few friends from my book club on Tuesday at The Charlton Hotel.” You say quietly, managing to rip your eyes from his for a few seconds before he’s commanding them back with a sharp tut.
“And?” He demands harshly. “What else happened?”
“I think you know.” Is all you say, your voice small and barely higher than a whisper. You glance over at Carol who has a smug look plastered on her face as she watches her husband clean up her mess yet again.
“Say it.” He growls, slapping his hand down on the table, making you jump. He hates this, hates having to fucking clean up yet another one of her messes, but he has his girls to think about.
“I heard Carol drive into Rodney’s car, and saw you start to hide the evidence.” Tears start to stream down your face, as you realize just how much danger you may be in.
Good. Now that you’ve admitted what you’ve seen, he can make sure you keep it quiet. Dave reaches out and captures your jaw in his hand. Leaning in threateningly, he grunts. “But you aren’t going to say anything, are you?”
The yelp you make as his hand harshly squeezes your jaw makes Carol squeal with laughter, but you block it out, concentrating on forcing out a small ‘no, sir’ as your tears begin to fall even harder, and your sobs grow louder.
He watches you for a moment. Not particularly enjoying the tears or the distress in your eyes, but he can’t risk his wife being arrested. “Good.” His tone softens slightly and his thumb brushes the bone of your jaw slightly. “Always knew you were smart.”
You nod your head to acknowledge that he just spoke to you, his fingertips are still gently brushing against your jaw as you stare into his eyes. “I promise I won’t say a thing.”
“You promise huh?” Dave snorts, admiring how innocent you are. “I think I’m gonna need a little more reassurance than that.”
“I’ll sign an NDA,” you stutter, “I’ll do anything.” Carol's cruel laughter makes you shudder, but it just makes Dave rub your chin a little harder.
“No, I don’t think that will work.” He doesn’t know how he should keep you quiet, just that you need to stay that way. “Maybe I should just make the problem go away.” He threatens.
You start to shake your head and pull away, the fear evident in your eyes, “No… no… what does that even mean?”
“What do you think that it means?” He asks, his voice deceptively soft.
“Getting rid of me,” you say almost silently, the tone of your voice softer than a whisper.
“I don’t want to do that.” He admits. “So what is going to keep your pretty little mouth shut for the rest of your life?”
“I’ll sign whatever you want,” you say again, not really sure what he means.
“No.” He shakes his head. “I need something on you. Something you don’t want to get out.” He decides, smirking slightly.
“Like what?” You say, with a look of confusion plastered on your face.
“I’ll take pictures of you.” He decides, figuring you are - if not a virgin, close to it. You would be mortified if naked pictures of you were released to your family. “And if you breathe a word, I send them to every family member you have.”
“What?” Carol scoffs out from behind him. “I’ll take them. You are not seeing her naked.”
You remain silent as you listen to them go back and forth, unsure what to say, wanting to refuse but fear keeping your lips firmly closed.
“I told you I would handle this.” Dave hisses. “So shut up while I handle it.”
“Handle it then,” she growls back at him, “But I will handle taking any photos.” She stares at you with a look of disgust on her face as she shakes her head. “Plus I doubt she’s ever had a man as attractive as you see her naked before and I don’t want the desperate little slut trying to tempt you.”
“She’s a virgin.” Dave grunts, even though he doesn’t know that for certain. “Only slut in this room is you.”
“I-I don’t think that’s necessary,” you start to say, voice trembling as you try to find some confidence, they’re right but you don’t want to admit it to them, “I won’t say anything and let’s be honest… even if I did no one would believe me.”
“Aw bless her,” Carol mocks looking over at Dave, “Don’t worry honey, we know someone like you couldn’t handle someone like my Dave. And he’s not available anyway.”
Dave shakes his head, holding his hand up to silence his wife. “Then tell me what will keep you quiet.” He demands, his dark eyes on you.
You look over at Carol and see the cruel smirk on her face and the words just fall from your mouth and float heavily in the air.
“You. I want one night with you.”
“Absolutely not,” Carol bellows at you from across the table, “How dare you!”
“Shut the fuck up.” Dave snaps, whipping his head around and glaring at Carol until she sits back. While she’s smug towards you, she’s also just slightly afraid of him. When he’s satisfied that she will be quiet, he turns back towards you. “What did you say?”
You concentrate on him, refusing to look back over at her despite her yelling. “I want a night with you.” You squirm in your seat under his stare, the expression on his face neutral as he watches you.
“A night for what?” He demands, wanting to hear you say it out loud. Carol huffs and grumbles under her breath beside him but he ignores her as he watches you.
“I want you to fuck me,” you say as quietly as you can. Your fingernails digging into your thighs to stop yourself shivering with anxiety.
“She wouldn’t know what to do with you,” Carol taunts cruelly. Furious at what she’s hearing.
“Neither did you.” Dave snorts, looking over at his wife and giving you a moment since you look like you are about to pass out. The idea has merit and his cock twitches when he thinks about ruining you.
“Maybe before we do anything you can take that picture,” you say, unable to meet his eyes.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Before, during, and after I’m done with you.” He corrects.
“You’re speaking like you’re going along with this madness,” Carol spits at Dave.
“Why shouldn’t I?” Dave asks, smirking slightly. “How many people have you fucked over the last eight years?”
You watch as she incoherently mutters something in response under her breath. Still squirming in your seat as you think about Dave’s hands roaming over your body.
“You thought I didn’t know?” Dave scoffs, chuckling under his breath. “Sweetheart, I know exactly how many dicks you’ve taken, how many times you’ve taken them. Why shouldn’t I wreck our pretty little neighbor to save your skin?”
“So is this happening?” Your timid voice asks, as they take a break from going at each other's throats.
“No,” Carol screeches back, “Dave is going to pull out his checkbook and write you a pretty little cheque and you’re going to keep your mouth quiet or I'm going to inform every woman in this neighbourhood what a nasty little whore you are.”
“No you won’t.” Dave growls at Carol. “You can have all the dick you want but I cant fuck her?” He snorts. “Go wait at the house.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” She growls at him, before looking you up and down one more time. “You really think you can handle a night with him, sweetheart? He’ll be bored senseless within the first ten minutes.”
“We’ll see,” you say quietly, “Maybe I'll surprise us both.”
“Go to the fucking house, Carol.” Dave hisses. “Or shut your fucking mouth. You’re the reason this is even fucking happening.” He’ll blame her, making sure she won’t try to blame you. “If you hadn’t fucked up, she wouldn’t be in a position to ask for sex.”
Your eyes remain focusing on him as she spews some colourful language in your direction before storming out the kitchen and out of the house.
“Now.” Dark, amused eyes turn towards you. He has to admire the gumption of your demand. “What makes you think that fucking me will keep that mouth of yours shut?” He asks. “Just having my cock in it?”
“You can take the photos,” you say, with a shrug, “I know the hell she’d cause for me and my family if I was to ever say a single word.”
“Why do you want me to fuck you?” He asks seriously. Wanting to know your reasoning behind this.
“She’s getting what she wants, my silence. Figured I’d ask for something that I’ve always wanted… You.” With a shaky breath, you reach your arm out to touch him, “Everyone wants you. You can’t pretend that women don’t throw themselves at you.”
“Everyone doesn’t want me.” Dave shakes his head. Some women might be attracted to him, but he also scares some off. “But if you want me, I have to ask what’s wrong with you?” He smirks.
“Read too many filthy stories,” you say with a giggle, “I don’t know. Lonely I guess.”
“I’m not the easiest to take.” He warns you. “And I like to fuck hard.”
A gasp escapes you at the way he’s speaking to you, but you can’t ignore the way your body reacts to him. “One night. I’m yours to do as you please with.”
Sitting back, he rocks his jaw as he contemplates it. “Are you on birth control?” He demands.
“No,” you admit, “But I can show you that I’m clean. I’ve nev- I can get Plan B and you can watch me take it… That’s if you don’t want to use a condom.”
“I’m not going to use a condom.” Dave decides. “And I’m going to fill two out of your three holes with my cum.” He smirks. “I’ll let you guess which two.”
“Oh,” you breathe out, clearly nervous but excited too. “When? Do I need to do anything to prepare?”
He snorts and reminds himself that you are innocent. “Show up when I call you.” He tells you, standing up and towering over you. “And forget what you saw Tuesday.”
“Yes, sir,” you say, standing up and studying his face for a few seconds. “I saw nothing.”
“Good girl.” He turns around and starts striding to the door, aware that his wife would be spoiling for a fight and he wants to get it over with before the girls come home from their Nana’s house. “I’ll be seeing you.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” you say softly, watching as he leaves.
It’s a quick walk back to his house, sighing heavily before he opens the door and steps inside.
You immediately throw yourself back down onto the sofa and question whether any of that really happened and you really asked to have sex with Dave York.
*
“Are you fucking serious?” Carol screeches as she watches Dave stride into the kitchen. “Are you actually considering fucking that little whore?”
Dave pins her with a hot glare. “What do you suggest, Carol?” He hisses. “I’ve got to clean up your mess, remember?”
“That doesn’t mean you get to make a mess with her,” she yells. “You’re not doing it, you can keep up the pretense and then force her to sign an NDA.”
“I’m done with your shit.” He huffs, striding over and grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking bitch, and this is your fucking mess!”
“Temper temper, Dave, we both know who’ll end up with the girls if this goes sour.” She says with a smirk, before stepping back and walking towards the cupboard with the wine glasses. “If you fuck her, i’ll take you for everything you’ve got.”
“I’ve got evidence, Carol.” Dave warns you. “Photos, texts, recorded conversations of you cheating.”
“Bullshit,” she says with a cruel laugh, before skulking upstairs with a bottle of wine tucked under her arm.
Dave growls, slapping a coffee mug to the side and wondering what the fuck is going on. Unable to believe that things have gotten so twisted.
*
A few days have passed since you saw Dave and Carol at your house and you’ve heard nothing. You figure that he changed his mind, and have decided to put the whole thing behind you and move on with the hopes that Carol doesn’t attempt to take revenge over your suggestion.
Laying down in front of the TV the sound of your phone vibrating on the coffee table makes you jump.
‘Tomorrow night’ He sends you a text. ‘’Come over at 8. I’ll be taking you to a hotel.’
‘Is there anything I need to bring’’ You type back immediately, excitement swirling around in your tummy.
‘Your cunt.’ Dave snorts to himself as he hits send.
‘I’ll double check I’ve got it before I leave.’ You send back with a giggle. You decide that you’ll get up early and pop to the mall and buy something special for the occasion.
Dave hums at your smart ass reply, ignoring the way Carol huffs and puffs across from him. She’s pissed but she can just stay mad for all he cares.
You settle on an early night and sleep comes easily to you. You should feel guilty, but you don’t. It’s one night in exchange for keeping a secret for the rest of your life.
*
Between his wife’s cold shoulder last night and her quiet sullen expression this morning, Dave has had time to muse over what he will do. To contemplate it, rejecting several thoughts, he decides that he will just decide in the moment based of how you respond to him. He’s not a monster, he isn’t going to do things you don’t like, but you chose him. Your silence is worth getting some satisfaction.
The morning flies by and after a very expensive trip to the mall you find yourself clock watching, fighting the nerves and anxiety that are bubbling in your tummy. Wondering if you’re really going to go through with this.
Dave watches as you come and go from your house, working from home and he wonders where you’ve gone. He knows he could quickly find out, but half the fun is the wondering.
After a long soak in the bath and dressing in the new white lingerie you picked up that morning, you pull on your sundress and pack a few things for the hotel. Not convinced you’ll be sleeping but you pack some pajamas anyway, before slowly making your way to the York residence just before 8.
“I can’t believe you are going to do this.” Carol hisses as Dave picks up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.
“Feel free to call the police department and confess to a hit and run while drinking.” Dave snorts, opening the door and looking back at his wife.
You see him at his door, and you shiver with anticipation. You pick up your pace a little until you’re waiting patiently next to his car.
“Get in.” He tells you as he unlocks the door.
“Yes sir,” you say with a shy smile, before climbing in.
Dave hums, taking his bag into the back seat before he climbs behind the wheel.
“So, how are you?” You ask after a few minutes of driving in silence. Clearly nervous and wondering if he can tell.
“Surprised that you are here.” Dave tells you. “Honestly.”
A small giggle slips through your lips and you see his brow raise in response and you’re almost certain his lips began to curl upwards before falling back into their natural state of neutrality. “I’m not… I thought you weren’t ever going to text me though.”
“Why is that?” He looks at you at the stop sign at the end of the road.
“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, “I guess I figured you already knew I have no intentions of saying anything.”
“I figured that out the second your chin trembled in my hand.” Dave chuckles and sends you a small smirk before he turns to the right and starts driving towards the hotel he had booked.
“Mhmm,” you say, before nervously biting on your bottom lip. “You definitely had me in the palm of your hand.”
“Gotta say I’m surprised you came out and just said that you wanted me to fuck you to keep silent.” He snorts. “Thought Carol was going to stroke out.”
“Yeah, I still can’t believe I said it either.” You admit. “I can’t believe she didn’t punch me.”
“Fuck her.” He rolls his eyes. “She deserves it for being a fucking cunt who acts like she’s got a get out of jail free card for everything.”
“Well then I guess it’s time you got a reward for being such an attentive husband.” You reach over and gently squeeze his knee before letting your hand fall back into your lap.
“Are you a virgin?” Dave asks, wanting to know if it was true. He had said you were, but he didn’t know for sure.
“Is it a problem for you if I am?” You ask quietly. A little nervous about his answer, but figuring that he already knows anyway.
“No.” Dave shakes his head and his cock is throbbing at the thought. “I will just not ram my cock into you. I don’t want you to hate fucking.” He snorts.
“I won’t mind,” you say with another giggle, “I should admit that I’ve thought about it… Thought about you.”
“What have you thought about?” He asks, wanting to know how deep this little crush goes.
You moan as his hand grips onto your thigh, “Dirty thoughts. There was this story I read where the Dad sold his daughter to a crime boss to pay off his debts…”
“Yeah?” He chuckles.” Was I the crime boss? Taking the innocent girl and ruining her?”
“Yes.” Your hand comes down on top of his and gently moves it higher. “Took her virginity and became addicted to her pussy.”
“Hmmmm and you think I’ll become addicted to yours?” He muses.
“Maybe.” You inch his hand up just enough that his fingertips can brush the lace material of your bright white panties, wondering how he’ll react to the wet patch in the center.
“It would have to be pretty good.” He warns you. “Besides, why would you want a man who will cheat on his wife?”
“I don’t think you would do it if she hadn’t pushed you this far,” you say with a shrug, gently letting go of his hand.
“That upset you.” He doesn’t ask, says it as a fact as he turns into the hotel parking lot. He didn’t choose a seedy motel, the nice, modern chain hotel will provide little luxuries and complete privacy.
You don’t say anything, you simply offer a small smile before appreciating the fact he’d clearly put thought into where you were going. “I’m not a silly little girl,” you say as he pulls into a spot, “I don’t expect you to fall in love with me or for anything to come from this, Dave. I know this just for one night.”
“And yet, you’re wearing sexy lingerie.” His hand slides back between your thighs to press against your wet clit.
“I thought you’d like it,” you admit, before moaning his name softly.
“What color is it?” He asks before he chuckles. “White. Right?”
You nod your head, feeling slightly embarrassed at how predictable you are. His demeanour is slightly sharper than before, and you can’t help but ask, “Do you not want to do this?”
“I am trying to figure out if you really want to do this.” Dave tells you seriously.
“I do.”
“Good.” He growls and pulls his hand away. “If you regret it, there’s not a fucking thing I can do after I’m buried deep in your little pussy.”
“I won’t regret it,” you say softly, before cupping his face, “I promise.” In that moment you can’t help but wonder when the last time someone was gentle with him, his body seems to immediately stiffen as your fingertips rub gentle circles into his cheeks.
Dave nods, trying not to pull away from your fingers but they feel too good against his skin. Foreign to a man who spends so much time in darkness.
“Shall we go in?” You ask with a genuine smile, “We don’t have to rush into anything.”
“I’ve already checked in.” He tells you, holding up his phone. “Digital key.”
“Perfect.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your overnight bag and step out the car, waiting for Dave to lead the way.
You are an eager thing, he has to give you that. He claims his own bag and walks around the car, placing his hand on your lower back and guiding you towards the doors.
You love the way his hand feels on you, and wonder how he's planning on taking things tonight. "I think tonight is going to be a good night," you say with a smile as he leads you to the elevators.
"Have you eaten, or were you too nervous?" He asks once you are in the elevator and the doors are closed. The button for the eighth floor is pressed and he looks over at where you are standing close to him.
"I had lunch but nothing else," you tell him, resisting the urge to thread your fingers with his.
"Do you want to eat after?" He won't feed you before. Shooting you a grin, he shrugs. "If you eat now, you might throw up."
"Sounds good," you say with a smile. "I'm never one to turn down food."
"We'll order room service." He decides.
"Perfect." The elevator arrives on your floor and he gestures for you to step out first and you wait patiently for him to lead you to your room.
Dave pulls out his phone, opening the app and walking towards the room so he can open it with the digital key.
You step into the room and admire how nice it is, the king bed in the centre of the room looks nice and inviting. He stands in the doorway and watches you as you look around, "How do you want to do this?" You ask as you spin on your heel to talk to him.
He has to admire how eager you seem to be. Smirking slightly, he lets the door clothes and then flips the lock behind him. "You tell me, sweetheart." He chuckles. "This was your demand. How do you want my cock."
"However you're willing to give it to me," you say, watching as he slowly walks towards you.
"I think I want you to strip for me." He tells you as he brushes past you to sit down in a chair that he pulls next to the bed. Arching a brow at you when he settles down.
"Yes, sir," you say, before unbuttoning your jacket and placing it on the bed. "I've never done this before." You take a few small steps until you're in front of his chair and wait for him to tell you to start.
"Take your time." He tells you. "Do it slowly."
You nod and flash him a small smile before slowly reaching behind to unzip your sundress. Letting the straps slowly fall off your shoulders as the billowy material starts to fall down your body, revealing the brand new lingerie set you had bought earlier that day.
"So innocent." He murmurs, taking in the white lace and yet there is something so dirty about you. You pushed for this, knowing he's married. You want him, however you can have him. "Hmmmm stay just like that." He tells you as he reaches for his belt.
"I got this just for you," you tell him, as your fingertips trail against the soft material. "Do you like it?"
"It's pretty." He coos, smirking as your fingers trail over your body. Something you've obviously done a time or two because you aren't shy about it. "Why don't you come open my pants for me, Princess."
"Yes sir." Walking towards him, you bite your lip in anticipation, and slowly sink down onto your knees in front of him. Your fingers hover for a few seconds before finding the button and popping it open.
Dave watches you, under hooded eyes as you bite and lick your bottom lip. Your fingers fumbling slightly as you drag his zipper down. "Take your time."
You nod your head and wait for him to lift his hips, so you drag down his pants. "What do you want me to do first?"
"What do you want to do?" He asks. "I want you to suck my cock."
"I can do that," you say, as you pull down his pants and boxers in one clean sweep. The sweetest oooooh he's ever heard comes out of you as you see his cock for the first time. Thick, long, rock hard with the tip weeping.
Dave watches you, enjoying the way your eyes widen and you unconsciously lick your lips. Innocent. At least you are innocent enough to fake it. He covers your hand with his and slowly starts to move your hand along his shaft.
"It's so thick," you say, as he helps you increase the pace, "Is it going to fit?"
"It's gonna fit. It'll be a tight little squeeze around my cock." He grunts, twitching in your hand.
"Yeah?" You ask before squeezing him a little tighter, and loving the groan he gifts you in response. "My little pussy is going to fit around this gorgeous cock like a glove."
You might be a virgin, but you've obviously touched a cock before. He grunts, wondering what little boy you touched and how quickly he came. "You are going to scream before you leave this suite."
"Yes, but only your name," you say with a little giggle. "Tell me how good your cock feels in my hand, sir."
"Sir?" His brow arches up and he chuckles. "Do you have a little bit of an authority kink?" He asks, figuring that you would be attracted to him if that was the case. He's been told he has a commanding presence.
"I don't know," you admit with a shrug, still stroking his cock. "I guess I just like the idea of you in charge."
"Open your mouth." He reaches out and grasps your chin. "Taste my cock."
Your mouth falls open immediately, tongue dipping out to lip the head. You've never sucked cock before but you've watched a lot of videos and read a lot of smut, so you remember not to take too much at once and to swallow around him.
"G-good." He grunts as your tongue flutters over the tip and your lips wrap around him. "How do I taste?"
You pull off him with a loud pop, "First cock I've ever sucked, and I already know that no other will compare… Delicious."
He grunts, and his cock twitches in your hand. "Good. Suck it some more." He orders roughly.
You take the base of him in your hand again and wrap your lips around the head, hollowing your cheeks before bobbing up and down slowly, feeling your arousal drip down your thighs as he groans in pleasure.
Dave lets you work at your own pace, slowly exploring him and getting comfortable with his size. You are probably soaking through your panties as you kneel in front of him. "Do you like that? Sucking my cock."
Not wanting to stop, you simply look up at him through your lashes and nod. You take him a little deeper and moan at the stretch, eyes filling with water as fat tears threaten to stain your cheeks.
He can't take his eyes off of you, eyes watering and about to spill down. He wants to see it. He rocks his hips up and pushes his cock deeper into your mouth and grunting when you gag.
You splutter around him, tears now streaming down your face as he grunts something filthy at you. It's overwhelming but you want more, the need to be at his mercy growing stronger as your panties get wetter.
"Slide back." Dave orders with a growl, suddenly wanting to be on his feet over you. "Now."
You obey his command immediately, letting him fall out of your mouth before sliding back and waiting patiently for your next order.
"Open your mouth, stick out your tongue." He stands, his pants shuffling as he moves forward, stroking his cock that is covered with your saliva. "I'm gonna fuck your throat, pretty girl."
You swallow hard at his words and the filthy smirk that spreads across his face tells you that he heard it. You place your hands in your lap and open your mouth, making eye contact as you stick out your tongue.
He smirks at how quickly you follow his order. How eagerly you obey him. "Good girl." He grunts, slapping his cock onto your tongue and then rocking his hips forward to thrust into your mouth.
One of your hands comes up and rests gently on his thigh as he starts to fuck into your mouth, you focus on hollowing you cheeks and swallowing around him. You gag around him as he starts to pick up his pace and you think he likes this, you think he likes seeing your innocent face overwhelmed by his thick cock.
Dave works up a quick pace, moving his hand to the back of your head and pressing you harder onto his cock. Starting to really fuck your mouth to see how much you will drool and choke on him.
The noises you make are filthy, your fingernails dig into his thighs as you gasp for breath, after a few moments you push your head back and pull off him with a loud gasp. Still connected to him with a line of saliva.
"Good girl." He pulls his hips back and he leans down, opening his own mouth and spitting, wanting you to swallow his spit.
"Delicious." You rise up so you're standing toe to toe with him, and you decide to make a move. Wrapping your arms around his neck, and pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips.
"Why do I like every other man is just going to be a disappointment when compared to you?"
"Because they are." He chuckles, sliding his hands down and squeezing your ass. "Now, stretch out on the bed and watch while I get more comfortable."
"Yes sir." Climbing onto the bed, you make yourself comfortable. Letting your fingertips trail down your body as you watch him.
Dave isn't wearing a button down shirt, so he doesn't get to show you how slowly he can undress. But he is making you wait as he slides his shirt up over his head.
"You're so sexy," you whisper, as he starts to shred his clothing.
He chuckles, flattered by your praise because he knows he's not in as good of shape as he used to be. No need when you aren't in the military anymore. He kicks off his shoes and strips off the pants that are already around his ankles.
"What do you want to do to me first?" You ask, as you push yourself up onto your elbows and admire the view.
"Undo your top." He grunts as he starts moving towards the bed. "Want to see your tits."
You reach around and undo your bra, letting the straps fall off your shoulders before pulling it off.
"Fuck." He hisses, imagining biting and sucking on the sweet little nipples you've exposed. "I'll enjoy cumming on them." He tells you. "Turn over, your ass up in the air and your face down on the bed."
You do as he commands, ignoring the way your cheeks burn a little. Waiting patiently to see what he's going to do next.
Kneeling on the bed behind you, he reaches out to caress your ass, enjoying the sight of your panties stretched over your ass. Swatting your cheek, one then the other sharply with his palm. "Fucking dirty."
"You going to keep these panties?" You ask as you lift your face off the pillow. "Something special for you to remember this night."
"Might." He hums. "Might just tie you up with them." He threatens lightly, knowing that he won't.
"You can do anything you want." You say as he softly massages your ass. "Are you taking me like this first?"
"No." He's not going to take you like this. His fingers curl under the waist of your panties and he starts to drag them down.
"Ohhh," you moan as he exposes your dripping wet core. "Dave."
"Nothing to moan about yet." He huffs, lowering himself down to eye level with your cunt. "Yet." Lunging forward, he spreads your cheeks and dives into your cunt from behind.
"Ohhh fuck," you yelp, his tongue beginning the most delicious assault on your cunt. "Don't stop."
He grunts, not bothering to pull away to tell you he has no intention of stopping. Making sure his tongue curls filthily. Licking you from clit to puckered hole.
"Daaaave," you scream, as he starts lapping against your clit, your thighs begin to shake as he pushes you towards paradise.
He actually enjoys eating pussy. Never minding it when his wife wanted until it began to be a one sided thing where she would make excuse after excuse not to suck his dick. So he had stopped doing it. Now, he is ravenous, licking through your folds and greedy to hear your moans.
"How do I taste?" you ask, mimicking his own questions from moments before.
He grunts, flicking his tongue against your clit and slapping your thigh. Enjoying your cheekiness as he works his jaw, wanting you to scream.
"Tell me," you beg, as he starts sucking your clit, pulling you closer and closer to that edge.
"Like Christmas." He grunts, pulling his lips away for a moment before he slides his tongue back up to your quivering entrance to tongue fuck you.
The noise that you make is indescribable, filthy yet so innocent as he starts to thrust his tongue in and out of you. Your finger finds your throbbing clit and you start to rub slow circles into it as he takes you apart with his tongue.
Dave's hand smacks yours, pulling it away. You aren't going to cum from anything you do to your body if you are in bed with him. You wanted him, you're going to get him.
You yelp as he slaps away your hand and he growls into your core. "Dave, please," you beg, over and over, not sure what you're pleading for but needing more.
Instead of chastising you, he gives you what you need. Sliding his tongue out of your dripping, quivering cunt, he moves back down to your clit and pushes two thick fingers inside you to replace his tongue.
The stretch from his fingers makes you sink your teeth into your lip, his are so much thicker than yours and it's almost too much. His tongue laps at you like he's a starved man, and it isn't long before your arms are threatening to give way and your thighs are shaking from the pleasure ripping its way through your body, and you're unable to speak even a single word as pleasure overwhelms you.
Dave hums against your clit, providing that slight vibration against your bundle of nerves as he sucks again. Not able to see your face, he's feeling and hearing your reaction and it's something beautiful and satisfying.
"I think I'm gonn-oohhh," you gasp before cumming hard on his tongue and around his fingers. Squeezing them so tightly it swear you hear him groan. "Fuck."
He isn't greedy right now. He doesn't pull his fingers back and immediately move. Working you through it with slow pumps of his fingers and flicks of his tongue.
"All other men are officially ruined," you breathe out with a giggle, coming down from your high and loving the unexpected soft attention from him as you do so.
He chuckles as he pulls away, straightening and curling his fingers slightly before he pulls them out of your cunt and dragging you up off the bed to offer them to you to taste.
You wonder if he heard you wince as he removed his fingers, not used to the thickness of him. A smile spreads across your face before you take his fingers in your mouth, sucking gently before pulling off with a pop. "I read a story once, where she tasted them mixed together... Can we try that later?"
He hums, smirking slightly as his other hand cups your breast. "You are a curious little slut." He teases, not meaning it negatively. He likes that you are curious. That you want to try all your desires. Pre-cum from his cock smears across your lower back.
"I plan on making the most of my one night with you," you admit, before turning around to face him.
"Interesting." He smirks and squeezes your ass. "Now, do you want me to fuck you?"
"Yes, please." You reply excitedly, "Fuck me, sir."
It's not exactly gentle, the way he pushes you down onto the bed, although he makes sure you are comfortable before he follows. Sliding between your quickly spreading thighs, his hips are cradled by yours and he lays his throbbing cock against your mound as he slowly gives you his weight, letting you feel him spread over you.
"Dave," you moan, as he throbs against your clit. Nerves dancing around in your tummy as you get ready to take your first ever cock, "Please."
"Please what?" He teases again, brushing his lips against yours while he rocks his hips playfully. "You want something, you have to tell me."
"Kiss me," it's not what you were begging for, but the way his lips brushed against yours, has you needing more.
He knows that wasn't what you meant to say, but he chuckles. Giving into your pretty begging, he kisses you and slides his tongue along your lips.
You can't help but moan against his lips, before opening yours and letting his tongue gain entry. Your hand finds its way into his hair and you press him closer, the kiss becoming more frantic as you do so.
He doesn't rush you. Making out like he's not aching to sink into your virgin walls and claim you. His tongue caresses yours and he groans into your mouth.
Your spare hand trails down his back, your fingernails lightly digging in and leaving small scratches and marks wherever they can. "Fuck me, Dave," you beg softly against his lips, before resuming your kiss.
Pulling his hips back slightly, Dave moves his cock with his hand, rubbing it up and down your folds before he presses against your entrance. "With pleasure."
You take a deep breath, ready for him to shove his cock into you, but he's much slower than you're anticipating. Pushing in inch by inch and letting you adjust to the width of him.
Even if his hand was forced, he's not going to make this any harsher than it needs to be. Slowly rocking his hips as he fills you. Keeping his lips on yours as he gathers you closely.
It makes you hiss as he stretches you open, your fingernails digging a little harsher into his skin until he fills you to the hilt.
"Not a virgin anymore." He murmurs against your lips, making sure that he doesn't move while you get used to the feeling of him inside you.
"Thank you," you reply, "You feel so big, Dave."
"I am big." He hums, not boasting but he's got a good sized cock.
"And you’re all mine tonight," you say with a giggle, "You can move. I want you to feel good."
Making a sound of agreement, Dave starts to move Grinding deeper before pulling his hips back to start a slow and steady rhythm. While he wants to wreck you, there is time for that later. He needs you to get used to his cock and enjoy the ride.
You're surprised at how quickly the pleasure drowns out the ache of pain. "Feels so good," you murmur as he slightly increases his pace, searching for that spot inside of you. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."
He rolls his hips down, rewarded when you squeal and your walls clench down around his cock. "There it is." He groans with a grin on his face as he makes sure to hit against that spot again and again with every thrust.
You swear that you can see stars as he notches against a part of you that you've never been able to reach. Your walls greedily suction around him as he pulls out your pleasure with ease. "Tell me how I feel," you beg, needing to hear how good you're making him feel.
"Tightest little cock sleeve I've ever been in." He groans, being purposefully filthy and moaning in your ear. "So goddamn hot and tight around me." He hisses when you clench down around him in response to his filthy words. "Gonna fuck you all night, just leave you on my cock."
"Please," you gasp out at his words, camping down around him as he notches against paradise. "Fill me up, make this pussy yours."
"Gonna." He grits out, clenching his teeth together and snarling when you wrap your legs around his waist. His next thrust is harsher than he meant, unable to hold back as he surges forward and fills you with his cock.
You cry out as he snaps his hips, and he immediately covers your mouth with his. Gripping onto to you as he rocks his hips, fucking into that spot whilst possessively claiming your lips.
He keeps his thrusts sharper, enjoying the way that you respond and clench around him. Loving how your nails scratch down his back and mark him up for Carol to see. He groans into your mouth and reaches down to hitch your leg higher on his hip, wanting to get even deeper.
You feel yourself teetering on the edge, seconds away from falling over. The sound of him grunting your name sends you flying, white hot pleasure ripping through you as you scream his name, your cunt clamps down hard around his throbbing cock before flooding around him.
He hadn't expected you to cum so quickly but he groans, rocking you through it with the same pace that had worked you up to your orgasm. Watching as you thrash under him and feeling the small catch in his throat when you whimper his name after screaming it.
"Fuck," you choke out, as he continues to chase his high. Your pussy still fluttering around his throbbing cock as you come down from your high. "You're incredible," you murmur against his lips, "So fucking incredible."
"You're incredible." He grunts, knowing that you want reassurance that you are good. "Gonna make me cum if I'm not careful."
"I want you to cum," you say, bumping your nose against his,
"Fuck, I want to feel you dripping from me.
You are filthy and he loves that. Twitching inside you as he chuckles. "Then you'll drip me while I recover." He promises, quickening his pace to one that he wanted to fuck you at.
He punches the air from your lungs as he chases his high, fucking you into the mattress as you bite down onto his shoulders uncaring about the marks you'll leave. You want to tell him that he feels better than you imagined, how all the books and videos on Bellessa House didn't prepare you for just how incredible it all feels.
Dave's hands run down your thighs, pulling them up more as he snaps his hips down, fucking furiously into you.Wanting to fuck away the traitorous thoughts in his head. He grunts. "Fuck. Shit-you- tight."
The pace is dizzying, the pleasure accompanied by a little twang of pain making your head spin. Opening your eyes you concentrate on his face, his pupils blown wide with lust as he grunts over and over, his pace getting a little sloppier with every thrust as he nears his high.
He feels his body starting to tighten. Balls pulling up against his body and he hisses out a curse as his hips stutter. "Fuck." Thrusting twice more, he grinds his cock deep and moans your name as he paints your walls with hot spurts of cum, emptying himself into you.
You moan louder with every spurt of cum that he fills you up with, never wanting to lose this feeling of being caught beneath him. "That was incredible," you murmur after a few moments of panting and catching breaths. "Thank you."
He hums and looks down at you with a small smirk. "You're welcomed?" He asks. "Maybe I should be thanking you."
"No," you say with a little shake of your head, "That was perfect. Better than I had ever imagined. How are you feeling?" You ask as he hooks your leg around his hip and lays down next to you, keeping his cock nestled inside.
He snorts, rolling his eyes at your question. "I just took your virginity." He reminds you. "I should be asking you how you feel." You shrug slightly and he sighs. "Surprisingly good for being the first time l've cheated on my wife." He tells you.
"Do you regret it?" You ask, stroking his face and trying to ignore the way it stung a little as he rolled his eyes at you. "Are you happy you came?"
"I don't regret it." He promises, leaning into your touch. "And I am happy that I came. Pun completely intended." He jokes.
"Good," you say with a smile, your fingertips rubbing the softest circles into his face. "I'm really happy that you came, I see how stressed you've been... And I just feel the need to take some of that away from you."
"You see that I'm stressed?" His brow furrows in surprise, sure that he had carried the stress well. At least Carol had not asked about it in a long time.
"You carry it on your shoulders," you say, before pressing a light kiss to the tip of his nose. "And in your eyes."
"Why would you care?" He seriously doesn't understand why you would want to ease his stress.
You immediately notice the change in him, and you worry you've overstepped. "You just work so hard... I'm sorry."
"No." Dave reaches for your hand when you pull it back, keeping it on his face. "I don't mean it like that." He explains. "I just don't know why you would care about me."
"Why not? You work so hard to look after your family." You resume drawing the little circles on his face with your fingertips, "I'm not saying I didn't want to do this for selfish reasons, but really I just wanted to give you some relief."
It's quite possibly the most touching thing that someone has done for him in a long time. Despite the headache he got from Carol, he feels relaxed. He hums and rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him. "Then you need to keep relieving me tonight." He grunts, eyes closed and a hint of a smile on his face.
"However you need," you say with a giggle, before bending over and recapturing his lips with a bruising kiss.
"Are you okay?" He asks softly, wanting to make sure that he hadn't hurt you.
"I'm really fucking good," you say, before nudging your nose against his. "Better than I have been in a long time."
"Good." He accepts that, sighing softly as he wonders what the fuck will happen now. He's enjoying being here with you. Liking how you are soft and sweet with him.
"Do you wanna order room service, baby?" You ask, loving the way he pulls you even closer. "See if I can make you cum again before it arrives?"
"What do you want to eat?" He asks. "Might be harder for you to make me cum the second time around."
"I'm up for a challenge, and mhmmm... breakfast sounds good."
"Are you one that can eat breakfast anytime?" He asks with a chuckle, thinking of all the times Alice demands pancakes for dinner.
"I could eat you anytime," you giggle, "But yes. IHOP is my idea of a romantic date."
He snorts and shakes his head. "So I shouldn't tell you that I make better pancakes, hmmm?"
"Not unless you're planning on making me some," you murmur against his lips, "Order food, baby."
"You have to move off me." He reminds you in a teasing tone as he squeezes your hips.
"Hurry," you say, before moving off him and shooting him an exaggerated pout. "Extra maple syrup."
The menu is by the phone on the desk across from the bed.
Striding over to it nude, Dave is very aware of your eyes on him as he picks up the receiver and connects to the kitchen to place the order.
Your eyes roam up and down his body, taking in every delicious inch. He's gorgeous. Broad and begging to be touched... tasted.
He orders you pancakes, extra maple syrup with eggs and a mimosa. A steak for himself, with eggs and toast to keep with the breakfast theme. Turning back towards you as he finishes up the order. "Anything else?"
"Just you," you say with a smirk.
Rolling his eyes, he pulls the phone back up to his mouth.
"That's it. Thanks." Hanging up, he watches you watch him for a moment, finding the fascination in your eyes slightly thrilling.
"Come here," you tell him softly.
He could resist, probably should reestablish the power dynamic but he finds that he doesn't want to. Humming quietly, he walks towards you, keeping his eyes on you.
"Kiss me, Dave York, and then tell me what you want me to do to you."
You are an intoxicating mixture of submissive and demanding, making it hard to judge what will come out of your mouth. "If you want me to fuck you again, you better suck my cock."
The moment he's laying down, you're crawling down the bed and positioning yourself between his legs. He's half hard and you feel your core get wetter at the thought of him hardening in your mouth. "With pleasure."
Eagerly, you take his cock into your mouth, making him groan before you pull off of him. He grunts, but is satisfied when you lick up the length of him. "Fuck. Greedy little thing, aren't you?" He huffs happily.
You hum happily around his length, gently sucking his cock and loving how it feels as he gets harder and harder in your mouth.
Dave reaches down, his hand smoothing over your hand and around to your jaw. Feeling it open and work as you bob up and down on his cock. "Does it turn you on?"
You nod yes, too greedy to pull off to speak. This is the only night you get him and you refuse to let a moment go to waste. You hollow your cheeks like you've seen in porn and moan in pleasure around him.
"Less suction." He urges you, smirking down at your wide eyes.
"Don't suck my soul out. I don't have one."
You pull off him and shake your head, "Yes you do. No one loves their kids the way you love those girls without a soul, Dave."
"They are my kids." He tells you. "Of course I love them."
"You have a soul, Dave," you say again softly, before taking him back in your mouth. He's fully hard and you're on a race against the clock to get him to cum again before food arrives. You swallow over and over as you take him as deep as you can, trying hard not to gag as you start bobbing up and down.
He watches, groaning when he's bucking his hips up slightly.
"Good girl." He moans your name quietly, feeling his body responding to your eager mouth.
You gently stroke the parts of him you can't fit into your mouth, wanting him to flood your mouth with his cum, needing to make this moment just about him. You double down on your efforts while remaining conscious that you've only done this once before earlier this evening. The groans he rewards you with spurring you on as his hips start to rock in and out of your greedy little mouth.
"Do you want me to cum in your mouth?" Dave grunts, wondering if you want him to fill your pussy again or mouth this time.
The smile that spreads across your face even with your mouth stuffed full of his cock makes him chuckle. You gently nod, not wanting to hurt him, still bobbing up and down. The ache between your legs growing stronger and stronger with every passing second.
His groan of your name is strained, nearly unheard as it's forced from his throat with all the air in his lungs. His body tensing up and his balls pulling tight against his body for the second time tonight.
You hum in delight as he starts to spill down your throat, one of his hands holding your head still as he rocks his hips.
The salty tang of him is addictive and you hope it's not the only time time he'll finish in your mouth tonight. You swallow as much as you can, feeling some slip from the corner of your lips and he fills you up. Each one of his thrusts coming with a raspy groan of pleasure.
You gently pull off him as he hisses from the overstimulation, making eye contact, you gather up the cum that's dripping down your chin and neck and bring it up to your lips, being sure to swallow every drop. "You taste delicious, Mr York."
The knock at the door interrupts you both and Dave springs up. Reaching for his boxers as he looks back at you. "Get under the covers."
"Yes sir," you say with a little giggle, loving how possessive he is.
Dave opens the door, sure that it's not Carol coming to scream at you, he had not let her know where he was taking you. The waiter nods and he backs up to allow him to bring the tray in. "On the table is fine." He tells him, looking at where you're peeking out over the covers.
You avoid eye contact with the waiter, focusing on watching Dave. Your eyes scanning his broad shoulders and feeling yourself grow more desperate to feel him again. You whisper a soft 'thank you' to the waiter as he puts the tray down and makes his way back towards the door.
Only after the lock is flipped again does Dave start to chuckle. "That man wanted to see you so bad, I thought he was going to strain his eyes."
You whip off the covers and raise an eyebrow, "Do you wanna call him back?" You tease as he shakes his head.
"Think I'll keep you to myself." He decides, motioning you over. "Come eat. Don't get dressed."
"Please do," you say as you slide off the bed and stroll over to him. Unashamed of your nakedness in front of him, because you feel so at ease. "I'm starved."
"Good." He winks and starts to pull the covers off the dishes. "If you spill syrup on yourself, I'll just lick it off you."
"Sounds like you're trying to make me spill it." You take a mouthful of the soft fluffy pancakes and moan in delight,
"Second best thing I've tasted this evening."
"What's the first?" He asks, smirking slightly and finding your flirty, playful humor to be far more enjoyable than he had thought you would be. You always seemed so nervous around him.
"I think you know," you say, before reaching over and stealing a fry from his plate. "How are you feeling?"
"Surprisingly good." Dave tells you, smirking slightly and pushing his plate towards you. "I don't like being forced to do something, so I had thought I would resent tonight. But I have enjoyed myself."
"Did you really feel forced?" You ask, feeling your face drop.
"I wouldn't have said shit, I can't believe I even suggested it;
I think it was because she was being so mean."
"No." He shakes his head, wishing he hadn't said anything to you. Not liking the way your face has fallen and you look upset. "I don't feel forced. You gave me the excuse to touch you."
"Good," you say quietly, biting down on your bottom lip to stop it from quivering. "I-uh, you know you can leave if you want to? I'll sign anything, I’ll do anything, but I think you already know that I'd never do anything that you could get implicated in and get you in trouble."
"I'm not leaving." Dave assures you. "I think we are past signing anything, don't you?"
"Yes," you reply, a small smile briefly lifting your lips upwards, before you dig back into your food.
"Good." He smirks slightly as he watches you eat. You've got a good appetite.
"What do you want to do after this?" You ask, between bites of pancakes. "I could make you cum again. With my hand this time?"
"You are the one who should tell me how this is going to go." He reminds you. "You are the one without the experience. What do you want to do?"
"I want to ride you."
"Then finish your dinner and I'Il let you climb on top."
"You'll tell me what to do?" You ask, a little embarrassed. "I mean I've seen it in porn, but I want you to feel good."
Dave snorts, nearly choking on his drink and looks over at you to see if you are being serious. "Sweetheart, if your pussy is around my dick, I feel good."
"That's it?" You ask, all wide eyed and hopeful. Gently placing the fork down onto your plate.
He nods, watching you preen under the praise. "You could sit on my cock while you eat and I would be happy."
"Right now, sir?" Your voice softly begs, as you stare into those dark brown eyes.
You continuously surprise him. He pushes back from the table and lifts his hips to take off his boxers. "Come sit."
You push your plate across the table before standing up and stepping towards him. "Yes sir." Grateful that you're still slick enough for him to slide in, you slowly lower yourself as he guides his cock towards your entrance. "Fuck. How do you feel thicker like this?"
The angle is better but he's too busy groaning your name to tell you that. Gripping your hips and closing his eyes in bliss.
"Feel good baby?" You ask, with a giggle. Feeling his thighs tighten beneath you as you clench around him.
"Feels good." Dave breathes out. "How does it feel for you?"
He asks, sliding his hands up to explore your body shamelessly as you sit on his throbbing cock.
"Incredible." Shamelessly you lean your head back and rest it on his shoulder, loving the way his hands feel on you.
"I think we are doing a good job of making the most of this one night," you say before grinding down on him. Clenching as tight as you can around him.
He hisses, jaw clenching at how good it feels. How tight you are gripping him. "Gonna make sure you remember this." He grunts.
"Fuck," you groan, as you rock your hips. His grip on you getting tighter as you rest your head back on his shoulder. "I know you are."
His hand possessively comes back around the front of your waist and holds you tight. Fusing you to him as he snaps his hips hard and fast to see your reaction in his sudden change of pace. Loving the innocent yet filthy moan of his name that he steals from your throat.
Dave digs his fingers into your waist, wanting to leave tender marks for you to remember him by. Bruises that you can press and remember how he had held you, fucked you. "Another moan." He demands, driving his hips up again. "More."
You give into his demand so easily, letting the room fill with the sounds of your pleasure. You push down and meet each thrust of his hips with your own, feeling pleasure course through your body, making your eyes roll back and your clit throb.
This has been to get back at Carol, to give you what you want to shut you up, but right now, this is for him. Watching you start to cum is his own personal little pleasure.
Knowing that he is making your eyes roll back is a thrill.
"Dave," you mumble softly, feeling the coil inside of you threaten to snap and throw you over that edge as he fucks up into you. "Please." You start to beg over and over as it starts to feel all too much but not enough at once.
He hums, continuing to rock up into you at a harsh pace.
Wondering what you are asking him. For him to cum, for him to make you cum again. He hisses out your name and drags you down for a kiss.
His lips are possessive and rough but you love it. His hand grips your jaw as he kisses you hard while continuing to grind his hips.
You murmur his name softly against his plush lips, before interlacing your fingers with his and bringing his hand up to your breast. "Make me yours."
He follows your lead, groping your breast and tangling his tongue against yours again. Taking control and wrapping his other arm around you and lifting you up onto the table, scattering the dishes.
"Tell me what you need," you murmur against his lips, as he tightens the grip he has on you and as you wrap legs around his waist.
Dave shoots to his feet, crowding over you. "Let me-" he grabs your thighs and pulls them up onto your waist. "Hang on."
"Yes sir," you say with a little giggle. "What are we doing?"
You watch his face, as he stares down at you, clearly enjoying the view. The urge to reach up and gently brush his cheek becomes overwhelming but you figure that may be overstepping a line, so you wait patiently for him to make his next move.
He stares for a few moments, rolling his jaw a few times before letting himself go."Tight little pussy," he growls quietly, before cupping your cunt and swiftly moving his hand up to your chest. "Perfect tits." He squeezes your breast roughly for a few moments and quickly let's go so he can grip your trembling jaw.
"Enthusiastic little mouth, you're being absolutely perfect for me... aren't you? Are you trying to make it difficult for me? Make it impossible to keep you for just one night?" You blink up at him, all doe eyed and innocent, staying completely still and silent as his hands roam your body.
Mumbling filth and praises and reminding you that no else has ever touched you how he's touching you right now, no one else has ever buried themselves deep in your perfect cunt and tasted your cum.
"I was furious," Dave admits after a few moments of silence, with a shake of his head. “Another careless mess she left me to clear up. But fuck, this time I might thank her when I get home." He tucks his thumb underneath your jaw and tilts your head up a little, before smashing his lips against yours. The kiss is quick, but it's consuming, the kind that makes you curl your toes and gasp for air... the kind that leaves your body begging for more. "I don't think I've felt this relaxed in years, or this happy."
"Dave," you breathe out and he immediately shushes you and presses another kiss to your lips.
"Will you let me show you how thankful I am, baby girl?"
"Yes," you breathe out, the easiest question you've ever had to answer.
You're still comfortably perched on the table, and he takes his seat in front of you again before he spreads your legs and places them over his shoulders.
The view has his cock twitching. Your pretty little pussy glistening with both of your arousal, his cum still slowly dripping from you. The heat of his breath coats your cunt and it sends the most delicious shiver down your spine as he teases what's to come.
"Should I lick this pretty little clit?" He murmurs against your thigh before gently sinking his teeth into it, "Or should I shove my tongue into that pretty little asshole? Watch you squirm as I eat your ass?"
He watches the way your chest starts to heave up and down, loving the innocence sketched across your face. "I'm going to lick your clit, and have you cum on my face and then you're going to taste yourself from my lips." He decides out loud, but not before gently biting your thigh again.
Your innocence is so appealing. Your enthusiasm for him is intoxicating. Dave hasn't felt this good about sex in years, since Alice was born. Definitely not as eager to eat Carol out as he is you.
Every flick of his tongue is calculated, he's taking his time, wanting to watch you come undone slowly and not wanting to rush this. He can tell you're eager for more, and you'll get it, but right now every swipe of his tongue is designed to make you beg for more. He needs to hear it, and the louder you'll be for him, the more he'll give to you.
There's something completely thrilling about taking someone's pleasure and making it his own. Controlling it.
Controlling you through it. It's just as satisfying as pulling a trigger, in some ways more so, because the people he fucks know him.
A soft whimper of his name stumbles from your lips as he methodically licks at your clit, loving every tremble of your thighs and shaky exhale he's pulling from you. "P-please," you beg quietly and wantonly as he picks up his pace a little bit.
Your fingers gently weave through his hair, pulling him closer to you as he flicks and sucks at your clit, groaning in pleasure as you moan his name.
There's something innocent about your face as he works you up. Even as dirty as it is, you still look innocent. Making him more determined to pull you apart.
You can feel that little coil inside of you threatening to snap, as your thighs start to shake uncontrollably. The sound of his groans paired with the expert flick of his tongue making you see stars and moan his name so sweetly.
He growls into your core, as your fingers twist in his hair as everything starts to go dark. Your eyes rolling back into your head as you teeter over that delicious edge.
"Cum," he growls, lips still attached to your clit and you can't deny him. Your thighs tighten around his head as your thrown so deliciously over that edge, your back arching as you press his head closer to your pussy.
Dave groans, changing from sucking on your clit to lapping delicately at your folds. Tasting the sweetness that pours from you as you shake.
You weakly call out his name as your orgasm continues to course throughout you. His mouth is still working its magic, as you tremble beneath him, and your fingers start rubbing soft circles into the back of his head.
"You. Are. Amazing." You say, before erupting in a fit of giggles, fingers gripping on to the edge of the table to steady yourself. "Is it my turn to take care of you?"
He doesn't answer, instead he does exactly what he said he was going to do and presses his lips to yours, letting you taste your arousal straight from his lips. Keeping your mouth pressed to his as he explores your mouth enthusiastically, loving the way he can pull those sweet little moans from you with just his kiss.
"Finish eating baby girl," he says with a wink, "The night is still young and I've not had my fill of you just yet."
You pull yourself up from the table, and take a seat next to his, smiling at the way he immediately pulls your chair closer and you both eat your dessert in a comfortable silence.
"Dave... Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," he grunts back, squeezing your thigh slightly.
"Why do you put up with it? I understand you have the girls but everyone knows they worship the ground you walk on." You say with a shaky breath, scared of overstepping a line.
"Baby, you deserve to have someone waiting at home that'll treat you right. That'll show you just how grateful they are for you. How much they love you."
Dave frowns slightly, punching his brow together and he wonders why you care so much, although it's nice that you do. "Carol- she knows the darkest parts of me." He tells you. "Things that would give you nightmares and run away screaming."
"You know the darkest parts of her," you counter back.
"You're clearly working overtime to clear them up. So she can't use dark secrets against you in court." Your hand finds his and you lace your fingers with his, "You waltz into my house and insinuated that you could get rid of every trace of me, Dave, and here I am.. Am I running right now?"
You make a good point and Dave slowly shakes his head. “Why?” He asks quietly. “I’m married, I’m a killer. You should be running. You shouldn’t have given me your virginity.”
“I have no regrets,” you say with a shrug, noticing the change in him. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”
“Don’t say that about yourself.” He huffs. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
You move closer to him, and place your hands on his chest. “And there’s nothing wrong with you, Dave.”
He stares at you for a moment and contemplates your point. “And you think I should leave Carol.” He is talking out loud. “I would get less time with my kids and she’d be a bitch about things.”
“You deserve to be happy, and you don’t need to worry about not seeing the girls. Anyone would happily stand up and testify that you’re an incredible father, Dave.” you say with a smile. “And whatever happens, no matter how tough it gets, you can always call me. Anytime you need to talk… or if you need a little stress relief… maybe I could find a way to help with that?”
Dave arches a brow at your suggestion, basically an invitation to continue this if he wanted. “Yeah?” The smug smirk returns. “Liked it that much, huh?” You are far from a slut, but the idea of making you *his* slut is broadly appealing.
“Dave,” you say, before biting down on your lip for a few seconds and then letting go, “I fucking loved it. The things I want you to do to me… I’d let you do anything. You are intoxicating.”
He looks at you for a moment and then chuckles. “You might just be worth it.” He muses, reaching out and cupping your cheek. Patting it lightly and then gripping your chin. His phone starts to buzz in his pants pocket on the floor and he shakes his head when your eyes slide over there to the pile. “Just leave it. Let her stew.” He decides. “She’ll fuck up.” The prediction is an easy one. “She always does.”
“I’d really like you to fuck me again, Mr. York,” you say with a giggle ignoring the buzzing as he instructed, your chin still comfortably nestled in his hand. “Do you think you’ve got another round in you?” You tease as you gently squeeze his cock, loving the way he hisses in response.
“You’re gonna be a brat.” Dave growls. “I can tell. You fuck a girl one time and now she’s addicted.” He’s teasing, known that he’s going to fuck you again as soon as he gets hard. As long as you aren’t sore.
“Are you surprised?” You tease back, “How could I not have gotten addicted, baby? You are delicious. And yes. I’ll be brat if I have to be.” You press your lips to his and gently bite down on his bottom lip. “The things I’m going to beg you to do to me.”
“Like what?” He wants to know how dirty you are, what you want. “What would you beg me to do to you? Darkest little secret.”
You feel your cheeks burn as he stares at you, ready to hear all the filthy thoughts you’ve had about him. “You could tie me up,” you say quietly, “Keep me tied up until you’ve used me for as long as you want. Cover me in your cum.”
“*Nasty*.” He smirks and gives a small chuckle. “I think you would like that, wouldn’t you?” It’s interesting that you would have such filthy dreams when you were just so innocent. His cock twitches and he watches your eyes fall to his groin.
“I want you to use me for your own pleasure,” you say, as you gently rub his cock. “However you want.”
He groans quietly and starts to harden under your touch. “You sore?”
“A little,” you admit, “But nothing I can’t handle.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He admits quietly and sincerely. He’s a dick, and an asshole, but he’s not a sadist.
“I’ll tell you if you need to stop,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I want you.”
“Get on your knees.” He orders. “Show me your cunt.”
“I love how filthy you are,” you giggle, before obeying his command.
"I'm a dirty guy." He admits, reaching out and spreading your cheeks to see all of you.
"And all mine for the night." You say, moaning gently as his fingertips drag through your folds.
The phone buzzes again and he doesn't pay it any attention as he starts to push his fingers inside you. Curling them up to press deep.
You moan his name, nuzzling your face in his neck as he works magic with his fingers. "God. I might not let you leave."
He smirks because he hasn't told you to turn around, but you couldn't resist getting close to him again. "I might not go."
"Seems like i'm not the only one who's got addicted," you tease, between breathy moans.
"Hard to resist when you are so easy." He snorts. "When you're giving it away, why wouldn't I take it?"
"Easy?" You say, pushing his arm away. "Maybe I won't give it away if that's what you think."
"Hey, I was teasing." He frowns, but he drops his hand when you push him away.
"Make it up to me," you say, a smile spreading across your face to let him know you were teasing.
He huffs and shoots you a halfhearted glare. "You're not funny." He grumbles.
"You're sexy when you're grumpy." You say, grabbing his hand and leading it back towards your cunt.
"Brat." He huffs, but his fingers still find their way back inside you. Perhaps pushing a little harder than necessary, but you moan anyway.
"Your brat," you breathe out, as he starts pumping his fingers and finding that magic spot with ease. "Make me cum and then give me your cock."
"How about I give you my cock and make you cum on it?" He challenges, continuing to finger you roughly and he reaches out with his other hand to slap your ass.
"That sounds perfect," you say with a grin, "Do you like knowing that you're the only man to have ever touched me like this?"
"Fuckin' love it." He admits with a low growl.
"The only man I'd let touch me like this," you admit quietly
He doesn't say anything, but he hears you. His touch turns more possessive, commanding on your body as he works you up.
"I'm close," you choke out, as the delicious coil inside of you threatens to snap. "I would let you do anything to me, Dave. Anything.”
“Then cum for me.” Dave orders, slapping your ass again as you clench down on his fingers.
“Yes sir,” you say, before rocking your hips a little, chasing his fingers and your high. Feeling your pussy possessively pull his fingers back in as your walls flutter around them. “Tell me I'm yours.” You beg, wanting to hear him claim you.
“You’re mine.” He groans. “I marked you, claimed you. Mine.”
“All yours, Dave,” you whimper as your orgasm begins to overwhelm you. “Yours.” You cum hard, a steady stream of arousal coating his hand and wrist as you whisper his name before falling forward onto his chest. Your arms wrap around him, holding him gently as your breaths grow less rapid, your clit still pulsating and your cunt dripping as you come down from your high. It's surprising how comfortable you are with him, feeling nothing but content with him seeing you at your most vulnerable. He had said not long before that you should have never given him your virginity, but you disagree and in this moment you know you could never regret a single moment of any of being with him.
"How do you want me?" You ask quietly, cupping your hands around his jaw.
Dave pulls back slightly as he considers your question. His dark eyes narrowing slightly as he starts to realize that you might have done him a very large favor by demanding to spend a night with him. He had grown complacent, used to dealing with Carol's shit. Living in an honestly unhappy marriage because of the girls and because he knows that she would make his life hell. "Permanently." He decides.
"Sounds like you got addicted to this pussy after all," you say with a giggle, before pressing a kiss to his lips.
"It's a good pussy." He snorts, smirking against your lips.
"You wanna sleep? Or do you wanna fuck me again?" You ask, as he wraps his arms around you just a little tighter.
"Sleep," he says, before placing a quick kiss on your lips. "If you're good, I'll wake you up with my cock." He smirks when you whimper and settles down with you in his arms. "Sleep, baby."
"Goodnight, Dave," you mumble softly before falling into the deepest and most comfortable sleep you've had in ages. Feeling warmer and safer than you ever have, nestled up in his arms.
**
The justification for the way that he rolls you over in your sleep and spreads your legs is simple. The night isn't over.
Neither one of you have left the room and the sun still isn't quite yet peeked over the horizon. Allowing him to fully reason why there's nothing wrong with lining up and pushing inside your tight cunt slowly to watch your eyes start to move under their lids as you start to break free from sleep.
"D-Dave," you stutter incoherently, as he presses against something devastating inside of you. Still fighting sleep as he begins to overwhelm every single one of your senses.
He chuckles mockingly. "You wanted me to wake you up with my cock." His hips slap forward to punctuate his words.
Words refuse to form in your throat, as you let out a stream of pleasured moans and whimpers of his name. He finds that spot with such ease that it knocks the air out of your lungs, you feel your pussy flutter around him as you try to pull him towards you for a kiss.
You're so soft, so warm. Pulling him closer and Dave grunts before he presses his lips to yours. He had woken up harder than a rock and had almost resisted the urge to touch you again, but then your words came back to him. Realizing that you were right.
"Good morning, baby," you say with a giggle, before letting your hand run up and down his spine. Loving the way he starts kissing you between thrusts.
He doesn't answer you, just slides his tongue into your mouth as he pounds into you. Increasing the pace as you wake up.
"Fuck," you garble, as he works you into the mattress. Fucking you harder with each thrust, pulling the filthiest sounds from you as that coil inside of you threatens to snap.
"You gonna cum?" Dave demands through his teeth, breathless from his efforts. "Cream all - fuck - over my cock?"
"Yes!” You call out, your fingernails digging into his warm skin as everything goes dark. Your body starts to convulse beneath him as pleasure pumps throughout you. You hear him telling you to take it all as he keeps the same delicious pace throughout your high.
Dave's never been one to lose himself in sex, but he's completely lost. Unable to think of anything but the clutch of your cunt and your sweet moans. His hips driving forward to hear more.
"Cum," you gasp, as his movements become a little sloppier, moaning as you're still coming down from your high. "Fill me up."
Dave hisses against your lips, fingers digging into your shoulders and he feels his pace falter. "Fuck."
"You feel so good," you murmur against his lips.
Another thrust before he's grunting, pushing deep and moaning your name against your lips as he floods your cunt with ropes of cum. Feeling more relaxed than ever before when he's done and slumping down into your arms.
"You good?" You giggle, as you wrap your arms around him.
"Great." Dave sighs as he tucks his head into your shoulder for a moment more. "Just great."
You glance over at the clock and see it's still early, and decide to hold him a little tighter, letting you both fall into another sleep. Not ready for when he'll pull himself away later that morning.
**
Dave had fallen asleep inside you. When he wakes up again, he can't believe that he actually fell asleep inside you.
Pulling away slowly so he can slip out of the bed and shower, frowning slightly as he thinks about the night and the entire situation while he cleans up.
You wake to the sound of the shower, feeling a twinge of disappointment he snuck out of bed without waking you.
You stay glued to the spot, nestled up comfortably and listen to the sound of the water. The urge to join him grows stronger but you don't act on it, figuring he would have invited you to shower with him it that's what he had wanted.
You wonder if you should start gathering up your things, but you don't, instead you pull the pillow he had slept on closer to you and snuggle into it. Inhaling his scent and letting yourself enjoy the memories from the night before.
Dave showers methodically, like he would if he were coming back from an op. Stripping his skin down to leave no trace of evidence on it, although the same cannot be said this time about his heart or mind. Stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist, he's already made the decision that he had been thinking about. Opening the door to find you wrapped around his pillow and smirking as he leans against the frame.
"Good morning," you say quietly, as you look over at him.
Admiring how good he looks as droplets of water drip down his chest.
"How are you feeling?"
"Surprisingly pretty good." Dave admits, looking a little confounded by that. "I normally never sleep well, but I slept through until I was getting up to take a shower."
"Good," you say with a small smile, not letting up on snuggling the pillow. "I guess I should shower now as well. Before we go back to our regular lives."
Dave shrugs slightly but you don't see it. "Think you might be tipping off the police who caused the damage." He comments.
"No. I promised," you say, panic rising in your voice, "You don't trust me?"
He watches you shoot up off the pillow, your eyes frantic.
"Fine." He shrugs again. "Guess I'll tip them off, then."
"What are you talking about, Dave?" You say, as you pick his shirt up and pull it on, before rounding the bed towards him.
"Decided I'm not going to let Carol keep getting away with shit." He had thought about it in the shower and decided it was the right thing to do.
You place one hand on his chest and the other on his cheek, studying his face for a few seconds before realizing that he's officially done with cleaning up messes that aren't his own. "I can do it. I can talk to them. Request it's anonymous, you don’t need to be the one making the report."
"Good." Dave nods. "The car hasn't been fixed yet, they should be able to get all the evidence they need off it."
You gently rub your thumb back and forth against his cheek before nodding, "Whatever you want me to say, I'll do it. I'll help however I can."
"Just tell the truth." He smirks at you. "But leave out the part where you fucked her husband."
"That's my favourite party of the story though," you say with a giggle, before pressing a kiss to his lips. "Guess I'll have to keep it to myself."
"You can tell me later on, once the dust has settled." Dave snorts. "There's plenty of evidence of other misdeeds that will be found."
"Sounds like you'll have a lot of stress that you'll somehow need to work out, Mr. York."
He snorts, smirking at you and tilts his head. "Stressful job, stressful life, about to be a single parent." He chuckles.
"Hope your little pussy is ready to be pounded every night while I work out that 'stress'.”
"Ready and wanting." You say before smashing your lips against his and wrapping your arms around him. "Anytime you need me."
[3 months later]
A smile stretches across your face as he crawls up from the bottom of the bed, his cock hanging hard and heavy between his legs as he pushes yours open.
With a possessive growl and he calls you his before slipping inside of you in one fluid motion, capturing your lips as he fills you to the hilt.
It had been a new start for you both, and you couldn't be happier that you started it together, with the girls.
Who'd have thought that witnessing that little wreck would have been the best thing that had ever happened to you?
#Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal characters#Dave York#David York#Dave York x you#Dave York x Reader#Dave York x F! Reader#dave york x female reader#Dave York x OFC#Dave York Smut#Dave York Imagine#Dave York x original female character#Dave York x Yn#The Equalizer 2#The Equalizer fanfiction#My fanfiction#my fanfic#i love dave york yall#absurdthirst
338 notes
·
View notes
Text
ᶜᵒᵒᵏⁱᵉˢ & ᶜᵒʷᵇᵒʸˢ| ʲ.ᵐ
Pairings: pre-outbreak Joel Miller x fem!reader
Word Count: 2883 (✨Including Bonus Scene✨)
Summary: You loved days like this. Days sitting on his couch in the dark living room of your neighbour’s house. Yes, that's right, you were spending your Saturday afternoons on your neighbour’s couch on a rainy day. But the term neighbour might be a little insensitive after all he was more than any other neighbour you have ever had.
Warnings: implied NSFW, cheesy cowboy books, Tommy being a little shit, eating; cookies and popcorn, mentions of shirtless Joel, swearing, FlirtyJoel™️, use of Y/N unfortunately, low-key cowboy kink, most likely writing errors leave meh alone :') (lemme know if there are any more <3)
You loved days like this. Days sitting on the couch in the dark living room of your neighbour’s house. Yes, that's right, you were spending your Saturday afternoons on your neighbour’s couch on a rainy day. But the term neighbour might be a little insensitive after all he was more than any other neighbour you have ever had.
Since you moved in next door, you and Joel have become very close and spend a lot of time together. You hate to be cliché, but you have grown especially fond of him, more than neighbours should, or even more the friends should. Yep, that's right you had a huge fat crush on the boy next door. But the boy next door wasn't actually a boy, in fact he was a man, a very single man that just so happened to be a loving father, and as you have recently found out, someone very cozy to share a blanket with.
You and Joel’s friendship was interesting to say the least. You two were flirty, very flirty, but you both knew the line and tiptoed on the edge; never dare crossing it. Being close with Joel was just easy, you knew what one another needed.
For example, crying at his front door, face smothered in his shoulder after a hard day. You knew he’d be there. No questions asked but the silence was loud enough. Comforting in a way.
He has made it very clear you were welcome over any time but Sarah on the other hand, uses a tactic you like to call broad-line trickery. You really couldn't say no to her puppy dog eyes when she begged you to stay over for movie night.
“C'mon Y/N! Dad doesn't cook the popcorn like you do!” she pleaded, knowing full well you and Joel made the popcorn the exact same way.
“Well if you insist,” you playfully rolled your eyes and making eye contact with Joel, acting as if it were a chore to be around the adorable curly hair girl and her absolute DILF of a dad.
Joel scoffed and rolled his eyes back as he chucked Sarah’s bedding on the couch that she insisted on having to make a blanket fort with.
“Only if you're Dad says it okay though.” You say again with a smile on your face. Sarah exclaimed in joy.
“Okay with it? Pft! Dad would make you move in if you'd let him” Sarah made sly eyes at Joel as his eyes widened before he threw a pillow at his daughter.
“Okay, that's enough! If you want Y/N to stay you better go get more blankets and pillow, hurry up or the pizzas gonna come and you’re not gonna get any…” Joel teased as he picked up the home phone from the coffee table. Sarah ran upstairs with loud thumps you and Joel chuckled quietly.
“Move in huh?” You battered your eyes.
“You shush girl, or no pizza for you either” he narrows his eyes at you.
So yes, you loved sitting on his couch on a cold rainy day more than anything. You two didn't even need to talk really, simply sitting on the couch with your legs laid on top of his lap as you read a book, his thumb gently rubbing your ankle where your sweatpants and socks don't exactly meet as he watches whatever is on the tv on a quiet volume.
Some would think you’re a couple, which in all honestly would make sense, but nope. Neither of you says anything for fear of ruining the comfortable abode you’ve made yourself. So, sitting here will have to do for now.
“When is Sarah gonna be back?” You asked glancing up from your cheesy cowboy novel.
“Why? My company not enough?” he pretended to be offended and you giggled and shook your head as your eyes rolled, “she’s gettin’ dropped off at Tommy’s tonight, she wanted to have a slumber party with her uncle apparently. Gon’ get him to tell her all bout’ his date on Tuesday” he deadpanned. You chuckled slightly at the thought of Tommy and Sarah having a ‘slumber party’, you can imagine it now, Sarah braiding his hair as he rants and swoons about the pretty girl he just went on a date with. “He better keep it PG, don’t want Sarah coming home tellin’ me all about how Uncle Tommy just got laid” he said, which only made you laugh louder, head thrown back against the arm rest of the couch.
“Now that would be hilarious” you said as you stood up from the couch, throwing the fluffy blanket and book onto the couch next to Joel as you walked to the kitchen.
“Yeah,” you heard him scoff from the living room as you got a bag of popcorn out of the cabinet. “For you. I’ll be the one that has to give Sarah the talk unless you wanna give it a go Darlin'” He laughed loudly at the thought.
“I’ll leave it to you, thanks” you say sheepishly as you pressed the buttons on the microwave, then grabbing a cookie from the jar above the microwave, which are surprisingly still here. Joel and Tommy love the cookies that you and Sarah make, they never usually last a week.
A few seconds past with nothing but the sound of the popcorn popping, the TV on low volume and the heavy rain hitting the windows and roof outside. It was peaceful.
“His hands were rough, just like she imagined. Real hard-working hands must be from all horse riding and heavy lifting he’s been doing she thought to herself. Those same hands now moved down her body slowly,” You heard Joel say from the living room.
‘What in the world is he on abo-’
Your book. He’s reading your book.
“What’s a pretty lady like you doing not getting touched the way she shoul-” he continued.
“JOEL NO! PUT IT DOW-” you ran into the living room diving onto the couch scrambling to get the book from his grasp. His laughter boomed loudly as he held the book out of her reach.
“Is this what you've been readin’ all this time sweetheart? Paper porn?” Joel laughs loudly as you’re still trying to reach the book, climbing all over him in the hopes of getting it back.
“Joel! give it back, it’s not what it looks like!” you said smacking his chest with a bright red face.
“Oh baby, I think it’s exactly what it looks like, see the page was even dog eared,” his laugh only getting louder as you straddle his lap, pulling at his arm that’s in the air with the book.
“No fair Joel, give it back!” you whine as he laughs slow down.
“Alright Alright girl, calm down,” his hand comes up to grab at your wrist that’s trying to get the book. You glare at him crossing your arms with your hand, that Joel was holding, out waiting the return of your precious book. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, here’s ya porn-” you jab the side of his ribs “OW! - okay okay here’s your…literature” he said finally handing the book to you as you snatch it out of his grasp, holding it tightly against you, the glare remaining.
“Cowboys really do it for you?” Joel askes curiously.
“Shut up, didn’t your Momma ever teach you not to touch what isn't yours? Or did you just not listen, hm?” You said pulling his ear gently to add emphasise to your words. Joel grabbed at your wrist again.
“Oh no Darlin, don’t worry I listen real well.” he said smirking as your face burned.
“Dick.” you scoffed, slapping his shoulder with the book before getting off of Joel, trying to ignore the fact you realised you were sitting on him a few seconds ago. Joel just laughed.
“Yeah Yeah, now would you be an angel go get the popcorn for your handsome rugged cowboy?” Joel said reaching for the TV remote nonchalantly.
“Ughh, I hate you” you whine throwing a pillow at his head as you walk back to the kitchen placing the book on the counter, away from Joel, and emptied the popcorn from the microwave into a bowl.
“Where's the book?” Joel asked as you sat back down on the couch, your legs bent with your cold feet under his thigh in hopes of some warmth, bowl of buttery popcorn in hand.
“I’m going to burn it.” You say dead serious as you tug the blanket back over you, Joel shuffling under as well, munching on handful of popcorn.
“What?!” He groaned “I was really getting into it” He continued, smirking as you glared at him again.
“I’ll buy you one for your birthday.” you say still serious as you smack his arm coming to pinch at your chin affectionately.
“Na, why would you do that when we can just read it together, huh? Go on off you go, get the book” he said throwing his arm on the backrest of the couch and shooing you away with his other hand.
Bright red covers you from you neck to the tip of your ears at the thought of reading a dirty book with Joel. With him.
“Absolutely not. There is no way in hell I’m reading that book near you ever again, let alone with you!” You said throwing a piece of popcorn at him. Joel laughs.
“Don't let me ruin it for you, I’m sure you were really into it. Up to the best part of it as well” Joel replies, chuckling as you shove your face into the pillow you grabbed from behind you, groaning loudly.
“You’re such an idiot, I’m never making cookies for you again!” you threaten as your face is still shoved in the pillow.
Joel grabbed behind you knees and pulled you closer to him, so your legs laid over his lap completely, you squealed into the pillow. He put his hands on your waist where your his hoodie had rod up and started to tickle, your head shot out from the pillow and screeched bloody murder as you tried to wiggle from his gasp.
“Don’t be so mean to your cowboy, he loves eating his girls’ cookies!” he said as he continued the assault.
“Joel stop!” you squealed again between words as he just kept pulling you closer every time you managed to crawl away. “Let me go!!” you're screams began mixing with uncontrollable laughter.
“Na-uh girly, you’re not going anywhere. I will not hesitate to lasso you up!” Joel kept the cowboy joke going because he loved the reaction it got out of you. And this, for one was definitely a reaction.
You laughed harder, the joke now becoming more funny than embarrassing. Still embarrassing of course but funny too now.
“Pl-please! I-I can’t!” you screamed as tears welled at the corner of your eyes from the laughter. Joel was laughing loudly as well, showing dimple on his right cheek that you loved so much.
His fingers finally stopped moving and your laughing slowed down, you opened your eyes to Joel’s shit eating grin pasted all over his face. He was sitting on his heels now, facing you, between your thighs as your legs were over his thighs and down by his sides. His hands on the couch, either side of your hips to hold himself up.
You’re smile hurt your cheeks and the tears from laughter rolled down the side of your face. Joel was quick to wipe them away with his thumb.
“Fine I’ll make more cookies.” you say quietly, like a whisper for only him to hear.
“Promise?” Joel whispered back as his smile went gentle.
“Promise.”
The words felt like they had more meaning than they lead on. Like it wasn’t about cookies, or cowboys. Like you were promising something more than his favourite home baked goods. And it felt okay. You didn't know what it was at the moment but whatever it was, it felt okay.
“Good.” Joel concluded. “Can’t live without em’” he said as his thumb gently touched your waist again.
“Me either” you giggled.
This definitely wasn't about cookies or cowboys.
✨Bonus scene✨
WC: 846
“Yes, the bear with the blue ribbon, I got it! Just stay in the car, won’t be long girly!” Tommy called out to the car as he walked into the kitchen from the back door.
“Hi Tommy, whacha doin?” you asked him as you stood at the stove pulling out another tray of cookies, as Joel ate the rest.
“Hiya sweets, just picking up a few things for Sarah she forgot. Apparently, she can’t live without em’ for even a day,” he said as he looked around the kitchen “where is Joel at?”
“Oh, he’s in the shower, shouldn't be too long” you said as you took the oven mites off your hands, chucking them on the bench next to the stove.
“You guys been behaving?” Tommy smirked as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes at him and ignored the blush on your cheeks.
“We always do” you smiled at him with a warning eye, that if he were to ask again you would hit him with a wooden spoon. He got the idea.
“Hey Darlin’ do you have my shir-” Joel said as walked into the kitchen as soon as he saw Tommy he huffed and leaned against the counter.
Oh, you forgot to mention, shirtless as well. Since you were indeed wearing his shirt. Why you ask? Don’t.
“What are you doing here?” Joel asked Tommy bluntly.
“Hello to you too brother,” Tommy said smiling slyly at the sight of you wearing said shirt, Joel not wearing said shirt and…wait what’s that, a book on the counter? “Just picking up some stuff for Sarah, the girl really needs a bear with a blue ribbon apparently”.
“Armchair in the Living room on the right” you said as you walked into the laundry room near the kitchen, grabbing Joel a new shirt.
“Thanks” Tommy said as he walks closer to the counter with the book. Joel is so distracted to by the cookies that just came out of the oven, attempting to make it look like he’s not drooling as he stood near the stove top with the tray on top, that he doesn’t even notice Tommy looking at the book.
“’Save a horse, Ride a cowboy’?” Tommy read the cheesy book cover out loud as he picked it up.
You rushed back into the kitchen throwing the new shirt at Joel’s face as he wiped around from the stove top to get to Tommy as well.
“NO!” You both said in unison. Somehow Joel got there first and snatched the book out of his brothers’ hands. Tommy was extremely confused, it took a bit for the book title and the reaction of you both to process, but when it did, and he knew what the book was most likely about a huge smirk smeared disgustingly over his face.
“A cowboy book?” Tommy said as Joel and your faces went red. Joel fiddling with the cover of the pages.
“It’s Joel’s!” you said quickly. Joels eyes instantly went wide as he panned his head towards you. His grip on the book tightens. Tommy looked between the both of you.
“No, it’s not! Y/N, its hers she loves cowboys!!” Joel shouted whipping his head to Tommy as if he was a kid caught stealing candy. He swung his head back over to you with eyebrows furrowed and jaw swingling open. “How DARE you.” He emphasized the word dare.
“Joel it’s okay, your allowed to like what you like. Nothing to be ashamed off.” You smirked at him as you (fake) empathetically patted his shoulder. See how he likes it.
“Okayyyy…. Well, I’ll leave you to cookie making” he pointed to you, “And I’ll leave you, dear brother, to cowboy readin’” tommy said patting the shoulder of Joel. You kept in the snort of laughter as Joel once again snapped his head to his brother, glaring firmly at the younger man. Tommy nods at the both of you and walked backwards to the Livingroom to finally get the bear Sarah wanted.
“You little shit.” Joel said looking over to your sheepish smile. His eye twitched as you shrugged your shoulder and giggled guiltily.
“What? You did say you loved the book…” you said, still smiling, as you picked up the shirt you threw at Joel in the struggle and dusted it off before handing it to him with both hands.
Joel snatched the shirt and tossed the book back onto the counter, aggressively pulled the shirt over his head.
“Tommy, did you find the bear?” Joel asked keeping his glare on you.
“Uh… Yep! found it right he-” Tommy said from the Livingroom.
“Great. Get out.” Joel said firmly. Tommy got the hint and began pacing for the backdoor again.
“No! Tommy please don’t leave, here have a cooki-”
“Bye Y/N!! Goodluck!” He said as the door closed behind him. Your eyes went back to Joel’s which had yet to stop staring. Joel waited until he hears Tommy’s truck drive away.
‘Those cookies better be the best damn things I’ve ever eaten. Or you’re screwed.”
#CrunchieToast#joel miller#tlou#the last of us#pedro pascal#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader#hes so fucking hot guys you dont even understand#cookies & cowboys#tommy miller#bella ramsey#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us hbo#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#x yn#x reader#pre outbreak!joel#dividers and images not mine
354 notes
·
View notes
Text
water in your hands
joel miller x f!reader
rating: E (18+ ONLY, MDNI. you will be blocked if you don’t have age/range in your bio)
word count: 9.7k (she's long but hopefully good?)
summary:
You are sick, and you're married, and you might be dyin'
But you're holdin' me like water in your hands…
Joel will only end up failing you. You deserve better than him. He needs you to move on, to give him peace of mind. So, he gets married to someone else, to try to force you away. Except he just can’t let you go, and you always come back when he calls. Like a dog with a bird at his door.
warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, cheating (it’s moon song y’all), marriage, age difference (joel is canon age, reader is 20s/30s), use of pet names, discussions of water/drowning, ANGST, hurt/comfort, unprotected sex, fingering, praising, lowkey possessive joel & reader, undefined relationship, alcohol use, mentions of john lennon cause he needs his own warning, joel is messy and selfish
author’s note: this is my first time writing any sort of fiction in literal years, but i couldn’t help but try to write this idea cause i'm a sad girl who wishes joel miller was real! apologies for any typos/errors, i am the actual worst at proofreading (see, my master's diss that i read at least 50 times and still had typos in the submission). any interaction is appreciated <3
PART II HERE
dividers from @saradika
Fresh snow had fallen this morning, wiping away some of the evidence of daily life here in Jackson. The air was biting, you work your sleeves over ungloved hands to keep the chill away, cheeks flushed. Snow crunches under your boots while you rush from your house to work at the Tipsy Bison, Jackson’s bar. Because of course one of the first things restored in the commune, in the middle of the apocalypse, was the one place with all the alcohol. Not that you were complaining, it gave you a job in town that you enjoyed; you got to pass time by being around people and making conversation, something you didn’t get in the small cottage that you occupied by yourself.
Keeping your eyes trained on the ground as you walk, careful to watch out for patches of ice, you only look up when you hear your name called. It’s the familiar voice of your boss; at least, you call him your boss cause he makes your shifts, but he hates to feel any sort of claim over the place since, y’know, the whole communist thing.
Tommy Miller stands near the steps up to the bar, clad in his signature look of denim and chambray, denim’s sister (the man wore a Canadian tuxedo nearly every day, you kept a tally). He’s waving you over, and before you can greet him, your attention is pulled from Tommy to the pair standing next to him.
A man, looking slightly older than Tommy but eerily similar with light grays sprinkled in his brown hair, donning a suede winter coat that was fitted across broad shoulders. His beard was patchy, not covering much of his strong jaw. Hooked nose, syrup brown eyes, olive skin looking pale from the season. There was a scar on his right temple, and other healed injuries dotting around the exposed skin. He’s handsome.
The young girl next to him just reached the man’s shoulders at her full height, bundled up in layers of sweatshirts and an open coat that didn’t look very warm. Her beanie framed her face along with her brown hair, the look on her face one of obvious teenage annoyance. She looked barely fifteen.
Tommy started introductions, barely getting a word out before the mystery man cut him off.
“I’m Joel, Tommy’s older brother. And this is Ellie.” He gestures to the girl and she gives you a nod. Joel removes a glove and extends his hand. You meet halfway, feeling the need to apologize for your cold skin chilling his own much warmer. Work-worn fingers wrap around to meet the skin on the backside of your hand. Your mind wanders to how those hands would feel in other places like --
Tommy’s voice breaks up your thoughts, “They’ve been traveling for a few months now to come here to Jackson.”
A smile crosses your face, grip not yet leaving Joel’s. His mouth ticks up slightly to one side.
“Welcome to Jackson, Mr. Miller, and you too, Ellie. It’s nice to put a face to the brother that Tommy’s been telling me stories about.”
“Please, just Joel. And it’s nice to meet you too, I hope he’s only told the good stuff.” Before you can respond, Ellie quips in.
“For months you have refused to tell people your name and now the first pretty girl in this perfect fucking town and you’ve given it twice.” She rolls her eyes so hard they disappear into her skull. Been there, Ellie. The attitude of a teenager is universal, even in the apocalypse.
Joel’s head snaps to Ellie and he grits out under his breath a little too loudly, “Ellie, quit cursing.”
Blush creeps across his face and you note that he didn’t say anything about Ellie knowing he thought you were pretty. Joel breaks eye contact and lets your hand go.
“Alright, hon, we should be on our way. I won’t subject you to any more of my older brother. He’s not much of a conversationalist,” Tommy teases. Joel gives Ellie a run for her money with the intensity of his eye roll.
Waving to the newcomers, you step back to head up the stairs. Out of the corner of your eye, you swear you see Joel take the smallest step towards you, about to follow like a puppy.
“See you later, boss. Nice to meet you again, Ellie and Joel, enjoy your tour of our perfect fucking town.”
Joel glances back over his shoulder to watch you walk into the swinging doors. Lord, if you could read his thoughts. He knew he was in trouble the moment he saw that damn smile.
The last few weeks have been torture to Joel. He and Ellie had been back in Jackson for about a month now, getting settled in their new normal. However, it wasn’t the lifestyle change that was anguishing him.
He’d thought of you a few times after he’d met you that winter; remembering your smile when Ellie was quietly resting against his back on the horse, a fever dream of you when he was in the basement of that abandoned house, a rush of nerves when Tommy brought him to the bar for the first time since he’d been back. He was infatuated with you, and now that he’s living in the same town as you, it’s gotten worse. Foolish mind daydreams of you and him together, feeling like a teenager again with the way you make his knees weak. He’s been careful not to spend much time alone with you, reminding himself that he shouldn’t let someone like you get involved with someone like him. All he’d do was fail you, fail to give you a good life. Words were carved into his skull at this point:
You’re too broken, too bruised, too scarred, and full of guilt - you’re going to fail her, too..
The small two-bedroom cottage diagonal to his and Ellie’s house was yours, and the proximity wasn’t helping his situation. And not only were you his neighbor, but you worked at the place where Joel spent a good chunk of his free time - the bar. He’d get drinks with Tommy or other guards after a shift, and that evolved to going by himself in hopes to see you and drown his guilt over those hopes (among a lot of other things).
It’s these nights when he’s become a bit looser with his self-inflicted rules around you. He occupies the stool at the end of the bar, stealing glances as you help other customers. His index finger rims the dry glass in front of him. You approach with that same damn smile aimed at him. It’s a dangerous combination along with the liquor, both fuzz his rationality.
“Another one, Mr. Miller?” you nod to his glass, reaching out to take it from him. Soft fingertips brush over his skin, sending a jolt of energy up his arm.
He clears his throat and answers, “Now, darlin’, I think I told you to call me Joel. Actually, at this point, I think it would be classified as begging. Mr. Miller makes me feel old.”
Throwing your head back with a laugh, the skin of your neck is exposed. His tongue involuntarily wets his lips when he thinks of leaving a mark there.
“Feel old? You are old, Miller,” he fakes offensive, eyebrows raised, “Aw, c’mon Joel, you know I’m just kiddin’. You’ve still got it. That silver fox thing you got goin’ on really does it for women ‘round here.”
He wants to be bold enough to ask if it’s doing anything for you, but instead, he huffs a laugh and shakes his head in disbelief, taking the two fingers of whiskey you poured.
“And how do you know that, darlin’? Haven’t had many offers for courtship since I got here.”
“I work in the bar. Women get drunk and spill their every thought. Including that the new guy with the daughter is hot,” you lean over the edge of the bar top, face less than a foot in front of him. Your eyes shift down to his lips. “Plus, I might encourage the conversation with my own thoughts.”
That smile again, except now it’s more of a smirk. He sips his drink, capturing the lingering alcohol with a lick of his lips. Your eyes go again, watching his tongue.
“I’m glad I can be such a riveting topic of conversation for you, sweetheart. Hope it’s good thoughts only.”
“Wouldn’t say the thoughts I have about you are good, Joel,” he swallows hard hearing the flirtation in your comment, feeling his jeans tighten.
Snapped out of hazy judgment, he resurfaces from the alcoholic tides; the rules he has about you act as a life preserver for him to cling to before getting caught in your rip current.
Joel throws back the rest of his drink, standing from the stool. He needs to get out of here if he wants to keep his promise to himself. Well, not that he wants to, but it’s what’s right. He can’t get you involved with his broken self. Your face drops slightly at the sight of him leaving, and part of him wants to lean over the bar to grab your face and kiss you hard in reassurance that he has the same kind of thoughts. But he can’t.
So he wishes you goodnight and walks home, angry with himself for nearly crossing the line. But he can’t help but think of your smile, and those flirty comments, as he tries to fall asleep.
You’re wide awake. Every time you close your eyes, your brain starts looping your conversation with Joel. Fingers rub circles in your temples, cursing to yourself as you get the replay of his extremely quick exit after you’d said you have…not so good thoughts about him.
The only indication you’d gotten from him that he felt any type of way toward you is his periodic visits to the bar on his own, spending the night chatting and laughing with you. You’d sometimes find yourself meeting his stare when you’d see each other across the street from your porches or in town.
But he’d never made a move, hell the most he’d touch you was to take a glass of whiskey or beer bottle from you. So why did you think he would suddenly reciprocate when you’d made openly flirty comments?
You needed some air. Just to clear your head of this embarrassing play-by-play. You pull yourself to stand and grab the sweatshirt at the end of your bed before heading out.
Jackson had the sort of late spring, early summer climate that happened to be your favorite. Warm, mildly humid days that brought the colors back after winter, and chillier nights, the right temperature to keep your cotton sleeping shorts on and add an extra layer up top to keep you warm.
Without thinking, you started towards the old barn on the edge of the residential area. The structure had seen better days, mostly used for storage now, but the open field behind it had an incredible view of the sky at night. It was a place you loved to go when that deep, dull ache in your chest wouldn’t quit.
Gravel crunches softly under your feet, small pebbles slip out from under your soles with each step. Not remotely focused on what’s in front of you, it comes as a surprise when hands land on your biceps. Your knee-jerk reaction is to scream, but as you look from the ground to the person grabbing you, the sound dies in your throat when you meet chestnut eyes.
“Jesus, Joel, you scared the shit out of me! Hasn’t anyone told you, you can’t just go grabbing women at night? Well, at any time of the day, really.” Your voice is rasped into a whisper despite the fact that there’s not a soul around.
“Maybe you should be paying a bit more attention to your surroundings when you’re walking by yourself at night, sweetheart” Joel counters, mouth ticking up to the side as his drawl continues, “Don’t know who’s lurking in the shadows in little ol’ Jackson.”
“You’re apparently the only person lurking, and you’re not doing a very good job since you just came right up to me.”
“Couldn’t help myself, I guess. What’re you doin’ out here at this hour?”
Heat burns under the surface of your skin when Joel drops his hands from your arms, the sensation radiating throughout the rest of your body. “Couldn’t sleep. I was gonna go sit out in the field behind the barn for a bit, admire the moon.”
He lights up with the first genuine smile you’ve seen from him. He has the best poker face out of anyone you know, but a part of you hopes that he feels like he doesn’t need it around you.
“Mind if I join ya, darlin’? Might be nice to stargaze a bit.”
You have to hold back from nodding frantically, attempting to play it off as if you’re weighing your options, “I don’t mind at all. You can teach me about the stars.”
The walk over is quiet but comfortable. At the shabby split-rail fence, you lift your foot to the lowest rail and push off the ground to mount the barrier. Joel’s hand meets the small of your back to hold you steady. Heat emanates from the spot, fingertips brushing your sweatshirt. His warmth leaves you as you make it over, watching as he easily clears the fencing with one smooth movement.
“Any spot in particular?”
As an answer, you grab Joel’s hand. Nerves bubble in your stomach, two steps ahead with your arm outstretched behind. His larger strides are quick to close the gap, arms between your bodies with palms pressed together. His hand shifts in yours, fingers lacing with yours and curling around the outside of your smaller hand, his thumb skimming back and forth.
Steps slow at a small clearing in the tall, overgrown grass, settling down on the dewy ground. He lays back with you, not focusing on the stars right away. His eyes are a cooler shade in the moonlight, yet no warmth is lost in the way he looks as if he’d been waiting for this moment.
Suddenly aware of yourself under his stare, you lightly clear your throat and turn toward the sky. “Do you know a lot about astronomy? I never got to learn much, other than my brother teaching me how to find the north star to navigate.”
Joel’s attention moves to the stars, his voice coming out lower and softer than in the daylight, “I used to know a lot more. Did a lot of camping before and learned to find the major constellations. Taught Ellie some of ‘em, and now she’s got a few books on astronomy. She kept saying how she wanted to fly, go to space or the moon like Sally Ride.”
“She’d be a pretty badass astronaut.”
He laughs softly, nodding before his expression settles into one of reminiscence and guilt all muddled together.
“You’re not wrong,” he pauses shortly before continuing, “But, I think I can still remember most of the constellations. What’s that thing called where you’re assigned one when you’re born?”
“Astrology?”
“That’s it. I know where my constellation is. I’m a Libra, whatever that means.”
Joel lifts your joined hands, his index fingers extended as he traces out the shape of scales in the corner of the sky.
Pulling the limited memories you have from the book you’d found sitting on a shelf at home, you follow Joel’s finger, “Libras are supposed to be balanced, that’s the whole scales thing, I guess. And impartial, but sometimes indecisive. Oh, and charming.”
Joel nestles your hands back on the ground. “Balanced, impartial, and indecisive? Sounds a lil’ vague, darlin’. Not sure I’m believin’ the stars can tell you about your personality.”
“Well, they got the charming part right about you. You’re certainly a Southern gentleman, got ladies swooning left and right.”
“Nah, I don’t even notice ‘em. Too busy focused on someone I’m pretty charmed by myself.”
You let go of Joel’s hand, turning onto your side to face him. He mirrors you, and you take the chance to lean in. Lips touch together with a brush, breaths fanning over both of your faces as you wait for his response.
Joel sits up, weight resting on his elbow. Broad shoulders lean over to shift you onto your back, rich eyes never leaving you. His touch is confident, a large hand fully cups the side of your face. Fingers sprawl along your jaw, thumb on your cheekbone. His frame leans further over yours, lips hovering as his voice breaks the moment of silence in a rasp, “This okay?”
Your voice thick with anticipation answers, “Yes.”
His kiss sends ripples of tension over your body. Fingers curl into the fabric of his sleeves, feet press into the dewy earth, chest tightens with quickened beating, lips match his depth. He tastes minty from toothpaste, mixed with notes of the Tennessee whiskey he orders. It’s intoxicating, reminders of him to seep into your daily life.
Joel brings you closer with a hand in your hair. His tongue traces your lips, parting them to let him in. When his fingers leave the crown of your head, his touch floats over your body, caressing your waist, sprawling under your breast, and jumping to your exposed thigh. He’s pressing your skin back against your body as if you were going to flow out from under him.
His frame shifts over you, pulling him away and breaths mix from open-mouth exhales. Legs open and hands find purchase on his expansive shoulders, heat pooling at your center when his knees settle between yours.
“You’re so beautiful, darlin’,” Joel’s earthy tone sighs, his hands moving along your body with a rumble of satisfaction brewing out of his chest.
His touch surrounds your cheeks as if he was bringing water up to drink from his hands, only your lips are the means to quench his thirst. You moan into the deep kiss, finding a frantic rhythm together. Fingertips dance along his torso to reach the hem of his navy t-shirt.
Hot, humid kisses line your neck to the collar of your sweatshirt. Tugging at the fabric and slipping his hand underneath, you comply to get the material off. Your t-shirt follows in its wake, the chill of the ground and Joel’s touch spreading goosebumps on your skin.
You breathe out a moan at his teeth scraping the curve of your shoulder, hands pulling at his shirt. He follows the silent order, getting the soft cotton over his head.
His hips grind down, arousal flooding your core. Another moan slips at the feeling of Joel’s breath meeting a small peak on your chest, sucking the pebbled skin.
Hips jerk up against his bulge, Joel’s throaty groan cutting into the night.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so soft…”
He gives the same treatment to the opposite breast and large fingers hook in the waistband of your shorts, tugging lightly to ask permission.
“Touch me, please. Wanna feel you…”
Joel’s lips separate from the skin with a pop. Your shorts come off, Joel retaking his place between your velvety thighs.
His eyes worship your body, dark with lust but still harboring a warmth. A slight ache burns in your hips that you completely ignore when his knuckles brush up your covered slit.
There isn’t a single thought in his head that doesn’t revolve around you.
His fingers slide against the last piece of fabric covering you, feeling your wetness through it. Your delicate sounds encourage him, thumb finding your clit and rubbing slow circles. He watches for a moment, eyes catching your face as you whine.
“Joel, please…”
His teasing doesn’t cease. Instead, he removes his thumb from your clit, hooking his finger to pull your panties to the side and exposing your wetness to the chill of the night.
“Gonna have to tell me what you want, darlin’. Not a mind reader…” He grins as you huff out your frustration.
“Please, Jesus Christ, want your fingers inside of me…” you look at him impatiently as you wait for an answer.
Biting his lip to hold back a groan, he pulls your panties off to leave you completely naked under him. His mouth waters, taking you all in as his touch runs up your bent knees.
Two fingers gather your wetness, pressing harder circles into your clit. Your whimpers egg him on, slipping down to tease your entrance with one finger.
“Good girl. ‘M gonna make this pretty pussy come around my fingers.”
With a smirk, one finger slides into you. Moans fill the still air, the tightness of you around his middle finger making him stiffen. A second finger easily joins the first to work you open.
His name is repeated like a prayer when he hooks his fingers on the uptick, searching for that rough patch inside your walls.
“Fuck, Joel, feels so fucking good,” you writhe under his touch, the sight and sound of you falling apart making him ache. He uses the hand resting on your stomach as a temporary fix for himself, a deep moan interrupting the orchestra of your whimpers and wetness. He pulls his hand away from his jeans, the need to feel you come overpowering his own.
He moves in circles around clit while fingers work in and out quicker, wanton moans growing louder and higher in pitch to accompany the sounds of your drenched cunt.
“So tight around my fingers. Feels good, yeah? You gonna come for me, sweet girl?”
The sounds you make in response are lewd, pleasure overtaking you as you rasp out, “Joel, I-I’m-”
“I know, baby. Let it happen.”
His words push you over the edge, fingers nearly pushed out from how hard you clench around them. Moans flood his ears, and all he can focus on is making that feeling last for you.
Soft breaths return when you’ve recovered, hand finding him hard and working your palm. Fingers open his button and fly, shoving the fabric as far down as you can manage.
“You sure, darlin’? We don’t have to, watching you was enough for me.”
You make your way inside his jeans, fingers wrapping around his cock and stroking slowly. He’d never really been one to care about underwear in the middle of the apocalypse, and right now he was thanking his past, lazy self for the lack of barrier. A shudder ripples down his spine, your touch so much better than his own fist.
“‘M sure, baby. Need you inside of me,” he twitches in your loose grip at the request, pushing his pants down just far enough to free himself.
Nails scrape against his scarred chest, a moan escaping you as he guides the head of his cock through your slick before positioning himself at your entrance.
His eyes lock onto where your bodies meet as he enters with a gentle thrust, your nails biting into the skin under his collarbone. He looks for a second at your face, your nod permission for him to move once you’ve adjusted to the stretch.
He nearly comes at the sight of you taking him fully, your tightness and warmth making the edges of his vision blur. “So, so good, baby…Feels so tight and warm and wet. Perfect, you’re perfect.”
Wetness pools around the base of him and onto the grass below, drenching the sound of skin meeting skin. He watches your eyes screw shut, whimpering as you take every thrust, “Fuck, Joel. Feel so full, ‘m close already.”
His hips work you harder, feeling that taut rope in his gut near its breaking point. One hand leaves your leg held against him, licking his thumb to make quick movements on your clit. His name tumbles from your lips in a high-pitched whine and your head presses back against the ground.
“Come for me, baby.”
Your walls grip him tighter and nearly knock the wind out of his lungs, your back arching off of the grass and nails biting into his shoulders. Eyes open when you settle, clouded and full of pleasure. His thrusts grow sloppy as he chases after his own high.
“Fuck, ‘m close. Feel so damn good.”
“Come for me, please Joel, wanna see you come.”
Your begging snaps that taut feeling in his gut; he quickly pulls out and replaces your warmth with his fist. His chin falls to his chest with a guttural moan as he watches his spend cover your lower stomach, glistening in the soft light. Warmth spreads across his body in a tingle, pleasure clearing his head.
They say drowning is one of the more peaceful ways to go. Once the first few breaths of water fill your lungs, your muscles relax and there’s a warmth that washes over you. Then you pass out and everything goes black. It’s not comfortable, but the tranquility makes it better.
Joel feels like he’s drowned in you, muscles relaxed, warm peace in his chest. His vision is black for a moment, breaths deep in recovery. His eyes adjust to see moonlight flooding your face and body in cool blue. His hands start roaming again, softer this time. Pulling out of you slowly, your whimper meets his small hiss.
He lays you on your side to face him, your form molding like fresh clay.
“You okay?”
Your eyes close contently when his fingers brush your hair from your face, humming, “Fantastic. I wanted that to happen ever since I met you.”
His heart beats quicker at your confession, his mind immediately repeating those words - you’re going to fail her, too.
He only holds you closer in response, and by the time you’re both dressed again and walking back to your street, he knows that he can’t let this continue.
Guilt harbored in his chest over forcing himself to avoid you for weeks after you’d given him exactly what he longed for. He didn’t want you to think that he saw you as a one-night stand, it had felt like more than he wanted to admit, but he couldn’t seek you out to apologize. If he saw you alone, he’d end up doing it all over again. He didn’t regret it. He was just trying to do right by you. Give you space, give you the means to move on before you’d drift too far into the deep end with him.
So he decided to move on himself, try to force your hand into someone else’s if you saw him coupled up. It was cruel, but that’s who he was deep down. Cruel, guilty, undeserving.
He asked Tommy to set him up with someone, and his brother told him about a nice widow who’d been in Jackson since the beginning and had mentioned how cute she thought Joel was. That was enough for him. He asked her out that night.
He’d been dating Heather for a couple of months now. She was pretty, with medium blonde hair and blue eyes. Not much younger than him. Everyone knew they were together, and he assumed that meant you did too. He’d seen you around, eyes never meeting while he walked to his house hand-in-hand with her. He heard rumors of you leaving the Tipsy Bison with a guy in tow a few times, and despite the pang of jealousy that he felt, he kept reminding himself that this was right. You’d fall in love with that guy or someone else, forgetting all about him.
A few months of dating led them to a quick engagement. Joel still couldn’t get you out of his head and took extreme measures to ensure nothing more would happen. They got married in his backyard in a small ceremony. The occasion was lowkey, at the request of Joel. Word spread after the first outing Joel had taken to the market, the silver band on his finger telling everyone what they wanted to know. Each conversation came with congratulations to him and his new wife. He returned them with tight, polite smiles, hiding the oozing guilt that was filling his chest.
Joel had found out that you’d skipped work a few times when Tommy mentioned it in passing on patrol, which was extremely unlike you considering you loved your job. He knew it was because of his marriage.
He tried to bury his worry, telling himself that he was doing the right thing. For him and for you.
Heather had lived her young life with her first husband, she wouldn’t grow to resent him for what he failed to give her. You would move on, as he did, and find some nice guy to settle down with, who could give you what you were looking for. What you deserved.
The worry carried over the day, his brain jumping to worst-case scenarios. He had to make sure you were okay. He would knock on your door to see if you were there. It was the neighborly thing to do.
Joel silently left his bed with his wife sleeping next to him, slipping out the front door in the hours before dawn. He needed to check on you, even if he had to look in through your windows to make sure you were alive. Knuckles lightly rapped on your door, and just as he was nearly about to go find your bedroom window, the door cracked apart from the jamb, and your face was lit by the soft night light.
“What are you doing here?” He can taste the bitterness in your tone.
He swallows down at the toes of his boots, raising both shoulders in a small shrug.
“Tommy said you skipped out on work most of this week. Just wanted to make sure you were alright. That you were alive.” He tries to joke, but your expression remains annoyed.
“Well, I’m fine. Alive. You should probably go, your wife’s at home.”
The door starts to shut, but he quickly grips the edge, rasping out, “I need to talk to you.”
You pause for a second before opening the door. Not waiting for him, you move to sit on your couch. Joel strides over, sitting at the other end and cheating his body towards you curled up in the corner.
“What do you need to talk about?”
“I need to apologize to you. I shouldn’t have ignored you after that night. Hell, that night shouldn’t have even happened. I got caught up-”
“Do you regret it?”
He thinks about saying yes. It would make everything so much easier. You could hate him, call him an asshole for fucking you and breaking your heart. But he can’t lie to you.
“No. I could never regret it.”
“So why shouldn’t it have happened?”
He sighs, wringing his hands together and resting his elbows on his knees.
“Honestly? I’ve been trying so hard to do right by you, darlin’. You deserve so much more than me. I’m broken, bruised, scarred. I’ve lived an ugly life, and I don’t want to end up giving any part of it to you. I can barely live with myself for the things I’ve done, even if I’ve done them to save my people. I’ve lost so much, and taken all the same. You’re so bright. I see it in that beautiful smile of yours. You deserve someone who can add beauty to your life, to live a long while with you. I can’t do that for you. All I’m going to do is fail you; it’s all I can seem to do these days. So I chose for us, and I moved on, and I hope you can find the same thing.”
After a breath, he feels like he can face you. That confidence crumbles immediately when he sees the tears streaming down your cheeks, the soft sniffle as you wipe your runny nose with your sleeve.
“That’s not true, Joel. You could never fail me because all I ever wanted you to give me was yourself. I love you, Joel. You are someone that can give me a beautiful life. Or could’ve, I guess, but now…” your eyes flick to the band on his left ring finger, “What you did was so fucking selfish, Joel. You couldn’t even have a conversation with me. And no matter how angry I get with you, I still can’t help but fucking love you.”
All he can do is kiss you. He’s spilling every emotion he can’t speak into this kiss. It would be wrong to tell you what you want to hear from him, even if it hurts to keep it inside him. His hands run over your body, gathering you in his arms and guiding you back to your bedroom.
He shouldn’t keep going. He should stop. But the feeling of your lips on his, your soft skin in his hands, and the fact that you love him keep his feet moving down the short hallway.
He can’t give you up. He was in way too deep and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to pull you in with him.
Despite the anger, sadness, and betrayal, your love for him overpowered it all. You needed to show him, to let him go with a searing memory of how you feel.
All of the actions between you two are sloppier than before. Each touch is rougher, grabbing at whatever you can take in the midst of heady kisses. Every movement is filled with unspoken words.
Joel gently pushes you the last few inches onto your bed, kicking off his boots and working at the buttons of his shirt, “Take it all off, baby, don't wanna waste a second.”
You’re only apart for as long as it takes for clothes to be shed. Back against the pillows of your unmade bed, arms pull Joel in and legs spread wide. His weight is supported with one arm, a soft moan exhaled as he bites his mark into your neck. Fingers move through your wetness, circling your clit.
It’s your turn to be selfish, and all you want is for Joel to feel himself inside of you. To remember what it’s like to have you when he goes home. To think about you when he fucks his wife. It feels wrong to want that, but you can’t help but feel a claim over him. The fingers tangled in his hair pull his head from its spot at the curve of your shoulder. You meet his lust-blown eyes and speak your demand.
“Fuck me, please, I need you now.”
Joel groans, fingers ceasing their movement as he questions you, “You sure, darlin’? You ready for me right now?”
“Yes, ‘m ready, please, baby,” you plead with him.
Joel repositions himself upright on his knees between your wide legs, stroking himself to get fully hard. He drags the head of his cock up your slit, coating it with your wetness before he presses the tip inside of you. You feel a tinge of pain as he splits you open, but you whisper for him to keep going.
When he’s completely inside of you, Joel sighs out your name, hands gripping your thighs and bringing one up to wrap around his waist, allowing him to sink further.
“Please, Joel, want it hard…” you whimper out, feeling the sensation of him in your gut. Joel needs no further instructions, pulling back to fuck into you hard and deep.
He watches where your bodies connect, how the drag of his cock swells your cunt. Lip pulled between his teeth, the sight makes his hips snap roughly against yours.
He’s leaving bruises with how tight he’s holding onto you, keeping you from moving up the mattress with the power of his thrusts. You don’t say anything until Joel breaks, fucking you with a possessive drive, “Mine. You’re all mine.”
“Only yours, baby. ‘M only ever gonna be yours.”
“You’re made for me, sweet girl, made to take me. Feel so fucking good, such a perfect pussy.”
You’re relieved when his eyes leave yours as he watches him hit inside you again, tears pricking your eyes from the pain and pleasure pounding through you and the thought that he won’t ever be completely yours.
That stupid piece of metal around his finger burns against the skin of your thigh. It should be a symbol of you, not someone else.
Hurt, anger, and pleasure meld together. Hands move to Joel’s shoulders, using your strength to flip over. His back hits the crumpled pillows at the headboard, sitting up as you straddle him.
“Look so beautiful on top of me, baby,” his chest rises and falls in quick succession, the next inhale sharper as you sink down completely, watching his eyes screw shut and a deep moan vibrate his chest.
“Oh fuck, take what you need, darlin’. Use my cock. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
Your mouth opens to tell him you can’t have what you want most. Because of what he decided for the both of you. Instead, a moan tumbles out, hips starting to roll to work him back to that near-ecstasy feeling. The room is filled with the wet smacks of skin meeting skin mixed with wanton moans. Your movements keep you both near the edge, your head back and eyes closed as you scream Joel’s name. He doesn’t reprimand you for potentially exposing yourselves to the neighbors, only reaching a hand to the back of your neck and pulling you in for a passionate kiss. You can tell he’s close when his feet dig into the mattress, hips under his vice grip. He starts fucking up into you, both of your rhythms meeting to work you higher. One hand leaves his chest to hold the side of his head, forcing him to meet your eyes.
“‘M yours…” you echo his lust-filled words. You need to remind him that at least part of him will always belong to you, that only you can make him feel this good, this loved. That you’re the one who fucks him like this. “Made for you, right? Just for you, baby. No one besides you can make me feel this good, make me come like you can. Ruined me for everyone else.”
“Mhmm, that’s fuckin’ right, darlin’. This pussy’s mine. You belong to me, all to me.” Joel’s thrusts become frantic and you lose your rhythm, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing quick circles.
You come hard, screaming his name again and whining with each thrust after your intense orgasm. Joel’s right behind you, your sounds pushing him over the edge. Warm ropes coat your walls, his husky groan reverberating under your palms pressed to his chest. Your voice can barely reach a whisper when you look at him, fingers moving to tug his hair, “And you belong to me.”
He doesn’t say anything if he even hears you, his skin sticking against yours and his come dripping out of you onto his stomach when you move to lie down. Joel gets up after he steadies his breath to grab a warm cloth from the bathroom to clean you up. He crawls back into bed, slipping under the covers after tossing the dirty washcloth into the hamper. Your head finds his chest, curling up into his side with his arm wrapping you up. He kisses your forehead as you drift off, feelings of guilt, anger, and love rising from your gut to sit square in your chest.
Cold sheets. That’s what you wake up to. Sitting up in bed, you glance around your room with sleepy eyes, searching for any evidence of Joel.
Nothing. He must’ve left after you fell asleep. You can’t blame him. It definitely wouldn’t look the best if his wife woke up in the morning and he was nowhere to be found. And he couldn’t risk someone seeing him sneak out of yours in the morning light.
You’re remembering your confession that was met with his claim over your body. Your own stupid attempt to make him believe that he belonged only to you, spurred on by his possessive words.
Something on the nightstand catches your eye. A note from Joel:
Meet me at our spot tonight, sweet girl
You met him that night, and nearly every night since then, too. Mostly in that overgrown field behind the barn, sometimes at yours when you craved complete comfort of the couch or bed.
Joel started staying later with you, holding you after the possessive claims he made over you like a prayer. He opened up about his time with Ellie before Jackson, stories about Boston, about Tess. What it was like growing up with Tommy, confessing he loved to sing and play guitar, even wanted to be a singer when he was younger and somehow ended up as a contractor. He even told you about his daughter Sarah, how beautiful and bright she was.
You told him your own story too. Leaving the Chicago QZ with your brother and sister when everything went to shit with FEDRA and the Fireflies. How you lost your sister soon after, bit by a straggling clicker in a gas station you were raiding. How your brother was the one to shoot her when she begged you both. Stories about traveling west with him, how he protected you until the day he died. You were chased by raiders looking to kill you both for your supplies, running through the forest just along the river outside of Jackson. You didn’t know the community was there, but it ended up being your saving grace. Your brother pushed you to run over the bridge, the men finally catching up to him. You couldn’t stop, couldn’t look back. All you could do was scream as you heard a gunshot.
Joel held you as you cried, you comforted him when he needed it. He never told you what happened after he and Ellie left Jackson that first time, he didn’t have to if he didn’t ever want to. These vulnerable moments brought you closer together.
But it was never close enough to stop the cycle he developed of pushing you away after a few weeks together, getting so in his head about the situation, feeling guilty, or getting paranoid if he suspects that Tommy or Maria or his wife are catching on. His abandonment would last a few days or even a week at a time.
And you always wait it out, always come back when he wants you.
Like a dog with a bird at his door, you gave all of yourself to him.
It’s a late night at work for you. Joel parked himself on his usual stool, drinking ‘til last call after his buddies left, something he’d done often in the last few weeks.
Tommy finished restocking the fridges under the counter and tossed you the keys to lock up. As he leaves, he gives Joel a knowing look and you a sympathetic one.
Joel slaps his hands against the bar top, standing when you walk from behind the counter. His steps falter a bit as he gets used to the ground underneath him. Steadying him with an arm around his back, he wraps his own around your shoulders to keep you at his side.
“Let me walk you home, baby.” Words slurs together, eyes half-lidded and glazed over. It would be a bit endearing to see him without his usual stoic persona, but the fact that this is the third night this week that he’s gotten this drunk is concerning.
You end up carrying Joel all the way home, and just when you’re about to get him to his front door, his strength overpowers your own and he pulls you away with him, dragging you two in a drunken stupor down the road.
His steps are heavy and sporadic while he whistles some song in your ear, reaching the field. He flops down into the grass, his arms sneaking around your waist when lay down with him. Joel pulls you in close, kissing you deeply and sighing against your mouth. He smells of whiskey, leather, and musk; all combining to be uniquely Joel.
You couldn’t bring yourself to argue with him about getting home so you let him kiss you, let his hand under your shirt. You listened to him recollecting the night with the patrol guys. The only touches exchanged were his fingertips running up and down your side under your loose t-shirt and your cheek pressed against his denim-covered chest.
He brought up a song that was playing on a record at the bar, John Lennon’s Woman. He reminisced about hearing that song as a young teen for the first time, and telling you how a couple of years later he wrote the lyrics down for his tenth-grade girlfriend, telling her he wrote a poem for her.
“She read it, obviously knowing the song. She crumpled it up, said ‘That’s John Lennon, not you, Joel Miller,” and walked away from me. Needless to say, she broke up with me.”
“Wow, a breakup over plagiarism. Must’ve been a real stickler for academic honesty,” you reply, sending both of you into giggles.
His laugh faded slightly, the wrinkles still showing next to his eyes and his smile lines present, jovially commenting, “You probably barely even know who John Lennon is.”
He laughs but his words made you feel small. He teased you before about the age difference, but for some reason, you couldn’t brush this one off.
“Y’know, I still remember what life was like then.”
His hand finds your chin, tilting your head up with a sigh, “That’s not what I meant, darlin’, you know I was just teasin’. You probably didn’t even know it was John Lennon if you heard one of his songs when you were young, baby.” You sit up quickly, separating from him.
“He was a fucking Beatle! Like the biggest band ever. I might be younger than you, but I’m not stupid. They were around even before you were born, so yeah, I do know who John Lennon is. And did you know he cheated on his first wife, like, a bunch of times and left her for one of those women? Sound familiar, Joel? Actually, probably not, ‘cause you’d never actually admit how you feel about me and leave your wife, even though you love me,” your words come out before you even have a chance to think about them, and as you look at Joel, you can tell he’s letting his anger and annoyance come over him, his expression turning to stone, “I feel like you just see me as some naive girl who doesn’t know anything or hasn’t dealt with shit in this world -”
“You haven’t done nearly a fraction of what I’ve had to do in this world, darlin’, so don’t get started. You are a naive girl. You’ve always had someone to protect you, and I’ve always been the protector. You don’t know nothin’ about losing yourself or having to do the worst possible thing just to save yourself or your people,” his voice is low and unwavering with an intensity you hadn’t heard before. He’s trying to hurt you now, bringing up the protection that you’d been given by your brother before he died to save you, the fact that you’ve always had support from him or the people of Jackson.
Your eyes gloss over, blurring his hunched-over figure. His words are venom seeping through the well-worn cracks in your heart. Curling up into a ball and chin on your kneecaps, pressing down into the bone to keep your lips from trembling. How childish you must look like this. Joel doesn’t move to comfort you, staring a thousand yards ahead, emotionless.
“I know you think I don’t know the guilt or pain or heartbreak that you feel 'cause I’ve been protected for a lot of my life in this world. But being in love with you, being some dirty secret to you, has given me enough guilt, pain, and heartbreak to last for the rest of my life.”
A shaky breath slipped out of your parted lips, untangling your limbs from their locked positions to stand. You turn away, legs carrying you home. You don’t look back, wiping your tears away as quickly as they fall. You’re exhausted from him, from this whirlpool of loving and leaving that he’s pulled you into. A part of you breaks just the slightest bit more, a new piece for you to mend whenever he calls you back.
You should hate Joel. He pulled you in and pushed you away, and all you could do was fall, but now it felt like sinking. And your feet won’t ever touch the bottom.
He’s taken your love willingly, and only given you possessive invocations over your body, only made your constant pain burn hotter. Linen soaked up the tears that were left on your cheeks as you laid down in bed, exhaustion taking over.
The image you see feels warm, blurred around the edges. It was his home, no sign of his wife but evidence of Ellie in the comic book and worn-out sneakers near the chair across the room. Soft strums of a guitar float around, and your sights lock on him at the other end of the couch. You have this feeling that you need to say something to him, but can’t remember for the life of you what it is; the moment overwhelming. He’s singing and playing guitar, unabashed, and with a genuine smile only for you. Tender brown eyes glance away as someone walks into the room. Ellie’s holding a lopsided birthday cake with a few candles lit. It’s decorated with a sloppy frosting drawing of the ocean, a boat on the horizon. It was a reminder of the daydream you had vocalized to Joel, spending a life on the shore in a small sailboat together. The song he was playing softly fades into Happy Birthday, his smile matching Ellie’s. All you hear, before the image fades, is his voice as you lean in to blow out your candles, “Happy birthday, darlin’. I love you.”
The clinking of stacking glasses is the only sound echoing through the empty bar as you and Tommy close out. Joel’s been ignoring you, has been for a couple of weeks after your fight, spending his free time picking up shifts or staying at home with his family. The rag you’re holding moves in circles over the shiny bar top, reflecting your face back to you. You can see the pain in your eyes seeping back after spending the night putting on a face for your customers.
“You don’t need to keep on paintin’ that pretty smile on your face, hon. I hate seein’ you looking like you’re gonna crack your jaw from forcing yourself to look happy,” Tommy sighs, looking over at you while he continues to polish the glass in his hand. “What he’s doing to you, it’s wrong. You deserve to be treated with respect.”
“He wasn’t doin’ anything I wasn’t letting him do. It takes two, Tommy. Think you’d know that with a newborn around,” you try to lighten the mood, kicking yourself for still defending Joel.
“I know. But I also know how you look at him. Like you’ve been drownin’ at sea and he’s the one who’s come along to save you.” You finally look up from your reflection on the bar surface; the shame in your face becomes too much for you.
“At this point, it feels more like he’s the one pulling me under.”
Tommy sets the glass down and tosses the rag at it. Closing the small space between, he pulls you against his chest, arms around your shoulders. You can’t cry in front of him, embarrassed that he even knows about you and Joel in the first place, let alone that he feels sorry for you. You reciprocate the hug, gingerly wrapping your arms around his torso. The sound of the door swinging echoes in the large room. Tommy let’s you out of his comforting embrace and turns to meet the late patron.
Joel.
He’s standing across the room, eyes moving between his brother and you. He came looking for you, not expecting Tommy to still be closing out the bar with the baby at home. A furrowed brow creases lines between those soft, guilt-ridden brown eyes. The same look he’s had every time he’s shown up at your door at 2 AM to apologize, kiss you, show you how much he needs you. You fall every time, wanting to be his comfort, his relief. His lighthouse in the storm of remorse he’s constantly battling. Loyal to a fault.
At this moment, you wish for a wave to pull you under and sweep you into the tide.
Tommy asked him to wait outside.
Asked is generous. More like, grabbed Joel by the collar and dragged him outside like a scolded puppy, pointing his finger and giving him a strong, “Stay.”
He did as he was told, leaning against the post at the top of the stairs. Arms crossed over his chest and anxiously tapping his foot against the wood porch.
Both you and Tommy left at the same time. Joel would be knocked out on the spot if Tommy had his way, judging by the look on his face. The younger Miller wished you goodnight and you gave him a reassuring nod as you stayed back to face Joel.
Tommy’s out of sight and out of earshot before you break the silence.
“So…why’d you come here? Thought you’d be done with the naive girl.”
Joel raises to his full height, taking a hesitant step toward you. You don’t move away, but he keeps his distance in order to get his thoughts out.
“Darlin’, I’m -” he starts, pausng for a moment to gather his words, “I keep doin’ this, don’t I? Being happy with you, then pushing you away and hurting you. I’m sorry, sweet girl. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t want to fight with you. I shouldn’t have said those things to you, I know what you’ve been through. You’re not naive. You’re mindful, attentive in ways I could never be. I hurt you. I haven’t done this the right way. I haven’t protected you like I should’ve 'cause I couldn’t stay away from you. I’m what you needed saving from and I’ve been too selfish to keep us both from drowning.”
You worry your lip between your teeth as tears gloss over your eyes. He steps closer to you, hands reaching up to cup your face. He’s not sure if you’re going to slip between his fingers, but he’s trying his best to keep you there with him. Tears fall, his thumbs working to wipe them away. Not letting a drop of you to slip away from his touch.
He can see the innerworkings of your brain in your eyes. He knows how to read you; he can see the battle in your head about whether or not he’s saved this time. Your voice is coated in emotion when you finally speak up again, “I’ve heard drowning is actually kind of a peaceful way to go, all things considered. And if it’s going to be with anyone, I’d choose you.”
That damn smile finds its way across your face in spite of your tears, and he can’t help but mirror it. It’s a welcome home for him, the light pulling him into your harbor - safe once again. He leans down to press a soft, tender kiss to your lips, deepening it for a moment when you reciprocate.
His hand finds yours when he pulls away, “Let’s go for a walk, sweet girl.”
Joel leads you away from the bar, walking down your street. You slow down when you get in front of your cottage, moving to walk down your path. He stops you, shaking his head and mouth ticking up in a small smile. His eyebrows are raised in a silent question, asking you to come with him. You fold easily, taking your place next to his side, hands intertwined.
He takes you to your spot where he’s set up a blanket and a couple of flickering lanterns for some light, but not enough to disturb the view of the moon.
“Joel…this is wonderful, I’m - I don’t know what to say, thank you.” Your hand squeezes his and he shrugs the praise off.
“Don’t thank me, baby, I should be doin’ this for you all the time. ‘S what you deserve.”
He’d gotten a couple of strange stares when he’d been walking down the road with a blanket under one arm and the lanterns in his hand. It occurred to him that people would think he was doing it for his wife, that they might ask her about it tomorrow and he’d be in for a line of questioning. But damn the consequences, he needed to do this for you. To give you something.
Joined hands pointing out more constellations he remembers and ones that Ellie knew, having asked her specifically to help him find the one for your zodiac. As the two of you lay on your backs, curled into each other, he’s taken back to the conversation Ellie and him had about their combined dream of a sheep ranch on the moon. Now that dream, at least for him, included you, too.
“I think it’d be nice out there. Without this world, feeling weightless.” He wishes for that down here, to lighten the load on his chest and the guilt on his shoulders. A different life.
You hum in agreement and he continues, “I wish I could just bring the moon down here, to take the weight off us, and to give Ellie the chance to get her dream.”
You’re quiet for a beat before your words wrap him in warmth, “If I could give you the moon, I would.”
You’d do anything for him, he knows that. And he’d do anything for you.
As those words cross his mind, the ring from his finger burns in his pocket. He’d taken it off to rid you both of the reminder of how this night would end, how every night would end. A little metal circle that has decided your fates, at least for now. His voice is slightly gravelly in his throat as he answers, “Maybe in another life, yeah?”
if you got to the end, i'm giving you a big smooch.
taglist: @swiftispunk (supportive bae)
#why am i more nervous to post this than submitting my dissertation#thank you to all who read!#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfic#tlou fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller#the last of us hbo fanfic#the last of us fanfic#joel miller x yn#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller x reader#me#writing
423 notes
·
View notes
Text
somewhere tropical
a/n: this is my first try at him so i hope it’s not too ooc!! enjoy
you’re laying next to javi when the idea strikes you.
he’s smoking a cigarette, the smoke making the room hazy as you shuffle closer to him.
“javi, do you think we could go somewhere that you could speak spanish to me all the time, when this is over?”
maybe the question is bred from exhaustion because you’re not even close to catching pablo escobar but you can’t stop thinking about it.
“amor qué?” javier almost chokes on the inhale he takes of his cigarette as he laughs.
you bury your nose into his bare chest as you repeat, “i wanna go somewhere you can speak to me in spanish everyday.”
his hand cups the nape of your neck and pulls you out of hiding.
“i can speak to you in spanish everyday, baby. no matter where we go.”
you nod, leaning up to rub your nose along his. “i know, but imagine if we were living somewhere tropical too. somewhere like honduras or guatemala or even chile.”
he laughs a little again, pressing his smiling lips against yours.
“i think you want to go somewhere you can get fruit year round.”
you hide again and javi knows he’s found your ulterior motive under the first one.
“please? plus you sound so much better speaking in spanish.”
he tilts your chin up again, “sabes que si hablo español cada día te necesitas aprender.”
he stubs out his cigarette on the window sill and watches you as you debate your answer.
you shake your head, “te entiendo muy bien javi,” he knows it too. “solo quieres oírme hablar más.”
he kisses you slowly this time, tongue leaving over yours. javier has a way of clearing your mind with his lips and it’s an intoxicating thing to be kissed by him.
“eso es exactamente lo que quieres muñeca, ¿no?” you’re breathless when he pulls away, your lips still chasing his.
“doesn’t matter, can we?”
javier strokes your jaw as he takes a moment to envision a life much simpler than the one you’re currently living and the allure of something slow, something mundane and something colourful with you is a dream.
“claro mi vida.”
#javier peña x reader#javier peña x black!reader#javier peña x you#javier peña x yn#javier peña fluff#javier peña imagine#javier peña one shot#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña blurb#javier peña drabble#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#javier pena#javier pena x reader#javier pena x you
360 notes
·
View notes
Text
Found part 2
Dad!Din Djarin x Teen!GN!yn part 2
Summary: Din bonding with his children; Grogu and YN.
it had been just a few days since Din had taken you in. He was quiet at first but slowly started warming up to you.
One of the first things you noticed about him was how protective he was of you. He took you and Grogu's wellbeing very seriously.
You had gotten sick and are currently in 'bed rest'. It was miserable. You were sweating and your head was aching worst than you'd ever felt before.
You could tell Din was stressed by the way he was acting. He wouldn't let you get up and would do everything for you. He was already like this, but now that your sick it's ten times worst.
He babies you but you just want to get back to normal again. You've been bored out of your mind.
Grogu and you had become close friends. Although you were very different, you both shared a father figure. That was the main cause of your sibling-like relationship.
It was also nice being around someone who wasn't an adult. Someone you could play around and get into trouble with.
You room was very small and had a mattress placed in the corner along with a few toys scattered and a basket of clothes. A few hours ago Din had tucked you and Grogu in bed and the two of you were supposed to be sleeping.
But currently you and Grogu were playing catch. Grogu was using the force while you played how you used to see other kids play.
Din walked in to check on you and when he realized you were playing he said; "Hey, stop that. Grogu, you need to save your energy. And YN. your supposed to be sleeping. Go to bed." He says as he takes the ball from you.
You frown and lay back down. "How much longer?" You ask in a miserable voice. He looks down at you and responds; "just a few more days. It'll go by faster if you sleep."
You nod your head and close your eyes. Din grabs your blanket and tucks you in before picking up Grogu and leaving the room.
#star wars x y/n#star wars x teen!reader#star wars x reader#star wars#mandalorian fluff#the mandalorian#mandalorian x reader#mandalorian x teen!yn#mandalorian x y/n#din djarin x daughter#din djarin x gender neutral reader#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x teen!reader#din djarin#pedro pascal x teen!reader#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x platonic!reader#platonic pedro pascal#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fluff
275 notes
·
View notes
Text
The neigbhor’s daughter 2.Pool party
A/N: Got so much love on part 1 that I wanted to write more. This is totally @itgetsdark-x ‘s idea.
Summary: You sneak into Joel’s backyard to use his pool. (pre-outbreak Joel x reader)
CW: Use of pet names, fluff, smut, fingering (f receiving), handjob, semi-public sex (pool), overstimulation, unprotected sex, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 36).
PART 3
Since you two spent your first night together, Joel felt like a teenager again. He had lost at least 10 years. He smiled more; he had more energy.
You would steal short moments together behind your dad’s back. You liked the thrill of it. He would pay more attention to you when he was working in your dad’s backyard, catching up on the lives you lived before meeting.
It was a warm Tuesday; the sun was hitting hard. Joel insisted that your dad rested so he wouldn’t catch a heat stroke and he was working alone on the deck, shirt off, curls damped with sweat. You had brought him hand squeezed lemonade and you were chilling in the backyard. You had invited a high school friend over, whom you rarely saw. You two were sipping on your lemonades, admiring the view of Joel’s body behind your tinted sunglasses.
“So you’re gonna tell me what’s the deal with him?” Samuel asked as he saw how you were staring hungrily at the man’s figure… Joel probably couldn’t hear behind the constant thumping of his tools hitting the wood.
“New neighbor. Really good in bed. Dick twice the size of Chad’s.”
“Damn.” He looked at you, shocked. “You’re fucking the neighbor?” He whispered. “To be fair, he’s quite hot. And Chad’s dick was small.”
“Sure as hell am. And he’s very straight sorry.”
“How old is he anyway?”
“36.”
“Not too bad. I had sugar daddies way older.” Sam laughed and took another sip of his cold lemonade. “Does your dad know?”
“Of course not. I don’t think he would take it… badly. He just doesn’t need to know everything.”
“Fair. You’re playing a dangerous game, though.”
You shrugged it off. Joel looked up at you two and smiled brightly, before he swiped his palm against his sweaty forehead.
“And he has a kid?”
“Yeah. A kid who’s conveniently sleeping at a friend’s house tonight. And I’ll be conveniently “going to your place” and I’ll come back “very late.” You said as you mimicked quotes in the air.
“Got’cha. If daddy calls, you’re drunk and passed out in my bed.”
**
You did go to Sam’s place for a few hours, but you came back discreetly after diner. You sneaked in Joel’s backyard, where could still hear him working on the deck. Your dad was nowhere to be seen.
You did a small gesture towards him over the wooden fence. He understood the message and put away his tools. Joel disappeared for a bit, probably saying bye to your dad. While you waited, you took off all of your clothes and jumped in the lukewarm pool.
At that time, it was dark enough and the fences were high enough to hide your nakedness.
He crossed the fence and sat on one of the patio chairs, not looking at you, just relaxing with his eyes closed.
“Your dad’s going to bingo right now.”
You went closer to the edge of the swimming pool, like a mermaid preying on a lost pirate.
“Thank god for old people activities.”
“Bingo’s fun, you should try it, hun.”
He was still not paying attention to you, so you sent a wave of water his way, damping his dirty jeans. Joel groaned angrily, until he finally laid his deep eyes on you.
“Goddamn.” He swore under his breath. “You’re crazy.”
You winked at him and swam away.
“Stop, I spent most of the day staring at your sweaty and sexy ass, now it’s my turn to tease.”
He got up on his feet and rapidly discarded all his clothes, while your gaze was analyzing each of his movements. You admired his tanned skin and the way dark hair was trailing down his soft tummy.
“Pretty fast for an old man.” You teased.
Joel climbed down the stairs to the pool and swam to you, in the deepest part of his pool. His arms circled your waist, and he pulled you close, holding you above the water. He pushed your body to the nearest border, where you could hold yourself.
“I’ll show I ain’t no old man.” He responded in a suggestive way.
His hands trapped your body against the border of the pool while his lips found yours. He had been waiting all day for this, only to feel the simplest of your caresses. Joel dominated the exchange completely, his tongue exploring the deepness of your mouth, his teeth hitting messily yours.
“How long can ya stay, hun?” He asked in the crook of your neck, where he left hot kisses. You felt his mustache scratching your skin slightly.
“I can say I’m too drunk and I’m sleeping at Sam’s…”
“I’d like that.”
His large and veiny hand traveled down to your breasts, your soft stomach, before stopping between your thighs. Your breath was stuck in your throat, before your lips let out a soft whine. Joel was a selfless man; he was more of a pleaser. He rarely let you please him, part of him was insecure and didn’t want to show his vulnerability.
Or… maybe he was afraid of getting even more addicted. He knew your time together was limited.
You pushed him to get to the shallowest part of the pool, where you could stand freely and comfortably on your feet.
“Wanna touch you, Joel, please. Can’t do that if I’m trying not to drown.”
He nodded, a small laugh escaping his lips. Your small hand disappeared under the blue water, wrapping itself around Joel’s member, that was already hard against his stomach. While you pleased him with lazy pumps, he took care of you, fingers circling your clit slowly, while one of them was splitting you open for him. You rested your head on his shoulder, so only him could hear the small sounds you were making. His large hand tugged on the back of your neck so you would look at him.
“Want the whole neighborhood to hear you, sweetheart.”
His hoarse voice sufficed to triple your excitation, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Joel’s rhythm was getting rougher and sloppier as you were trying to do the same for him. You were done hiding your reactions and you moaned his name freely. His breathing was heavy, and he was struggling to keep up while you touched him. He pushed your hand and you let go, so he could concentrate on the intensity of his caresses on your heat. You held onto his shoulders and your back arched as you were freed from the knot in your lower stomach, your mouth letting out a final cry. He helped you through your orgasm, and let you go when you had enough.
“C’me here, I have an amazing idea.” He said with a satisfied smile.
You followed him to a particular side of the pool.
“D’you think you can hold on to this side? Yeah, just like that. Lift your legs up for me, spread them towards the spray here.”
You did as Joel instructed, while he helped with holding up your body. You struggled to find the right angle. But when you did, you moaned as you felt the pressure of the water jet that was assuring the movement of the water in the pool hitting your clit. Joel was behind you, on his feet, hands grabbing firmly on your skin to hold you up. Seconds later, he was thrusting fully into you. Your body was getting used to his intrusion, and you took all of him well. He whispered soft praises to your ear, that you were covering with your moans.
One of your hands went around the back of his neck to support your body. You were feeling very overwhelmed with every sensation.
“Can you cum around my cock, sweetheart?”
You nodded and concentrated on the overwhelming sensation of the water hitting your sensitive bud constantly, and the feeling of him filling you up with each thrust. Your body tensed, and he encouraged you through your orgasm, your walls tightening around him. Even though Joel was struggling to keep up, he kept going at his own rhythm, concentrating on chasing his own high.
The water was still splashing on you, so you had no time to get down from your high. You just had orgasm after orgasm, as your nails were leaving marks on Joel’s neck. You were probably loud enough for everyone around to hear you.
When he felt you getting tired and limp, he held you strongly, and fucked up into you harshly as he bit into the skin of your neck. You felt him finishing between your walls, and then he took you away from the side of the pool, spinning you around to look at you.
“You did so good for me, baby.” He praised before kissing you tenderly. You melted into his touch lazily, tired.
**
Joel left you on his messy bed after helping you get dried up. He went to take a shower, leaving you alone. You scrolled mindlessly on your phone, only wearing your panties.
A text from your dad made your phone vibrate.
Everything O.K?
Yes. Gonna spend the night at Sams. Drunk lots.
You felt bad about lying, but it was necessary.
You mean Joel’s ?
Your heart dropped.
I don’t know what you’re talking about, dad.
Saw you going to his house b4 I left. It’s ok.
… Sorry.
It’s okay. He’s a good man. Just be careful, ok?
Joel came in his room, wearing a grey towel around his waist. You barely looked at him as you were typing on your phone. He could see that something was wrong by the look on your face. So, he put on his boxers and laid next to you, looking over your shoulder.
“Everything okay?”
You almost jumped as you heard his voice and left your phone on the bedside table.
“Yeah. Dad knows.”
Your neighbor felt like he was losing you at that exact moment.
“But he’s okay with it!” You quickly added as you saw his expression drop. “He says you’re a good man. Plus, I’m a grown woman.”
He could finally breathe when you reassured him. Joel wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. You looked up to him and played softly with his damp curls.
“Am I still a good man after what happened tonight?” He playfully kissed your lips. You rolled your eyes at him and punched him softly.
“You’re the best, actually. Stopped counting my orgasms. Now, let me sleep.”
#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#Joel Miller x yn#dbf ! joel#neighbor ! joel miller#dbf ! joel miller#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x yn#pedro pascal smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
White Lies (Joel Miller x Reader)
Masterlist | Request here!
Summary: Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: violence, Joel kills 3 dudes (what murdaaah?), descriptions of blood and wounds, stitches, Joel feels guilt and shame but is also very soppy and very in love, fuff and angst all tangled up, descriptions of chronic pain
A/n: I have had a bloody nightmare the last few weeks with suspected endometriosis, which is what inspired me to write this. In my head, reader has endo and the medicine is some sort of contraception or strong painkillers to help her manage it. But it isn't explicitly mentioned so you can imagine whatever you most relate to. Please do let me know what you think, and as always, requests are open!
It’s a harsh winter, even by Boston’s standards.
The QZ is coated in a veil of thick snow, the blizzard that took hold weeks ago now bruising the streets with an icy fist.
Joel pulls his coat tighter around himself, grateful at least for the cover the snowstorm offered, the skies foggy and grey. He can slip through the alleyways much quicker, much quieter beneath the frost. His footsteps are erased almost as soon as he leaves them, and when things get messy, he can soothe his wounds in the freeze.
Which is good, because things get messy a lot.
Not that he’d tell you that. You were too pure, too gentle; not unlike the snow that paints your doorframe now.
No, Joel keeps those things from you. The world has been unkind enough, and if he has one purpose now, it’s to protect that sweetness of yours. To collect it, each golden ray of sunshine that so easily radiates from you, to give it back and let you bask in the warmth of your own soul.
No one deserves it more than you do. Least not him, and yet you’d given him more love, more sweetness, than he could ever dream of.
That’s why he told you he was working a late shift today - sewage, he thinks he said - rather than where he actually is at 3am, catching his death in an old littered alleyway.
He occasionally shifts to avoid the silver moonlight dripping from the gaps in the fire-escape stairs above him. Tonight’s meeting should be a simple one, free from FEDRA’s strict patrols; he’d done this long enough now to know when, and where, was safest for these things.
He stays on high alert, though. Just in case.
Marco’s late. He isn’t known for being the most competent of dealers, but Joel was getting desperate now, and he was the only crook in the QZ who could get what he needed. He was a small man, a bit pathetic looking, really. But he was smart, and he had connections that even Joel couldn’t make for all his smuggling and dealing.
So when Joel’s supplier told him he couldn’t help him anymore, he didn’t have a choice. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.
“Miller, there ya’ are.” Joel’s snapped out of his thoughts, his looming regret of this whole situation, as Marco strolls down the alley. He grins, in the same cocky way he always did, the sort of grin a man who couldn’t win a fight but has enough men who could wrapped around his finger, doing the dirty work for him.
Joel insisted he come alone. Not because he couldn’t handle his goons; he knew he could. Maybe. But it would cause a scene, and draw attention, to something he very much wanted to keep under wraps.
He’s semi-surprised to see the two men walking behind Marco. Deep down, he’d had some faith that the dealer would stick to his word.
“Quiet the fuck down,” Joel warns, seething through his teeth as his eyes search the alley behind them, making sure they hadn’t been heard. “Who are your friends?”
Marco follows Joel’s gaze towards his companions. “They’re just here to observe.”
The men are the same height as Joel, maybe a little taller. He recognises both from the sleazy speakeasies that lie beneath the floors of the QZ. Where the bad guys go.
One is bald, with a jagged scar carved across his cheek and over his eye. He’s scowling, unlike Marco and the other man, who looks somewhat softer with thick hair grown to his shoulders and brown eyes that stayed on Joel like bedrock.
“That’s not what we agreed,’ Joel growls.
There’s tension in the air, thick, and they must feel it too because Marco’s henchmen each have a hand hovering near their sides, where silver blades reflect the white of the snow.
“I recall us also agreeing that you’d get your meds in return for the money. But we’re doing things a little differently today.” Joel remains stoic, though his eyes turn dark and angry, the moon’s light no longer illuminating his features. Marco tiptoes slowly towards him, getting so close that Joel can feel his breath and raising a hand to pick a piece of lint from his flannel shirt. “I want my money. But you might have to wait a little longer for your meds.”
Joel reacts then, squaring up to him, stepping forward and clenching his fists. The other men wrap their hands around their blades, anticipating a fight. Marco just laughs.
“‘Scuse me?” Joel asks, though they all know he understood what was going on.
“You’re gonna give me the amount we agreed. And then, you’re gonna speak to one of your guard friends, and cut me a deal. Then you might get your meds.”
Joel’s anger swells inside him like a beast, his previous care to stay hidden long gone as he imagines driving his fist into Marco’s smug, son of a bitch face again and again and again.
He has to think this through, though. He needs those meds. Marco can see the cogs turning. “Just give me the money, Miller. Don’t make this difficult. You can’t take three of us.”
“No?” Joel retorts, already decided in what he’d do next. “I don’t think it’s worth findin’ out. Give me the meds.”
Marco sighs, dropping his head and stepping away from Joel, leaving him to face his men. “Shame, Joel. You really coulda helped us.”
He nods to his men, who immediately draw their blades and attack. The first lands a punch on his face, the weight of it surprising him as he falls back into the railing. Before he can recover, the other has already plunged a blade through his stomach, right below his ribcage. He controls himself, swallows the yell that claws its way up his throat, tries to think. The cold steel of the rail stabs into his back, and when another fist collides with his cheek and sends him to the floor, he uses it to haul himself up and tackle one of the men - the softer one - to the ground with him.
Marco only stands and watches as Joel throws his weight onto the man and smashes his head into the stone floor. The other grabs his shoulder, spinning him round but Joel’s prepared this time and he dodges the swat of his knife. Instead he throws a punch into his stomach, making him double over which gives Joel the opportunity to grab the knife strapped to his calf and drive it through the bald man’s throat. He stumbles, collapsing to the floor with a choked cry, and Joel turns back just in time to see the other man trying to stand, though the injury to his head makes him dizzy. Joel stands first, easily pushing the man to the ground, and stomping on his head with as much force as his steel-toed boots would let him. Both men stay down.
Marco has regressed into the darkness of the alley, and he looks somehow smaller than usual. He’s pathetic, and if this was any other job, he’d laugh. But this wasn’t a laughing matter, and there was only one target for him; the medication.
The smaller man reaches into his pocket, searching for his gun, but Joel anticipates the move and has already reached him and thrown him against the wall before he can find it. His movements strain the wound in his abdomen, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t feel it.
Joel’s fist pins Marco to the wall by his throat, making him splutter and flail like a fish out of water.
“Where are the fuckin’ pills, Marco?” He just continues to flail, trying to pull Joel’s hand off of him with both of his own, to no effect. Joel scoffs, throwing him to the floor and dragging his knife out of the now dead henchman’s neck. “If you won’t tell me, I guess I’ve got no use for ya.” He uses his shirt to clean the blade, the flannel already soaked in blood, his own.
“For fuck sake, Marco whines, slightly out of breath. “They’re at my place.”
“There anyone else there?” Joel asks, so nonchalantly that it almost sounds like a passing thought.
“No, no one there. But you’ll need me to get you in.”
Joel looks up again, the now-clean knife held in his fist with a vice-like grip. He stalks towards Marco, ignoring his desperate pleas.
“Shouldn’t be a problem-”
With that, he stabs him in the chest, letting him choke and gasp on the floor and searching his pockets for a key. He finds it, and does a quick, final survey of the alleyway. The once perfectly settled snow is disturbed, kicked up in the fight, and deeply stained with blood.
Joel curses, but leaves, only now noticing the burning pain from his torso. He leans against the wall, now stood out in the street, open; but there are no guards. He doesn’t think he’d care. Instead he grabs a fistful of the snow around his feet, packs it into the wound, hissing at the sharp pain of the ice but quickly feeling relief as it numbs him.
This was going to be a long night.
—------------------
It’s another couple of hours or so before he returns. There were, in fact, people at Marco’s place - but Joel knew that would be the case anyway. They weren’t a problem.
He’d showered in Marco’s flat, after taking out the men hanging out in there. Protecting it, he assumed. And he’d found a med pack that let him stitch up the wound to some degree; it was a hack job, but it should do the trick. He’d had worse.
The most important thing was that he found the meds.
The old door of your place creaks as he steps inside, quickly closing it behind him before the cold could enter. It’s futile, really; the wooden pillars are rotten, decaying so badly that the wind sweeps through the cracks with ease, and he can see dustings of snow on the floor around your windows. But he tries anyway.
“Joel?”
There you are.
It’s scary, honestly, what your voice does to him. Even so quiet, so distant from the bedroom upstairs, it lifts the weight from his shoulders that he thought he’d carry forever.
“I’m here, baby. I’m comin’.” He pulls off his shoes, placing them neatly beside the door just how you like, and heads upstairs. His bloodied shirt is long gone, buried in some forgotten corner of the QZ, where he has a collection of discarded items by now.
You don’t reply, he doesn’t expect you to. He reaches your bedroom, gently opening the door and sighing at the sight of you lying there, curled up between mountains of sheets and pillows.
He’d almost think you look peaceful if he didn’t know how much pain you’re in.
“Oh, honey,” he laments, crossing the distance from the door to you and kneeling down beside your head. You open your eyes, though they’re weighed down by exhaustion, and a small smile creeps onto your lips at the sight of the man before you.
“Hi,” you whisper, letting a gentle hand poke out from the duvet and brush his jaw. He can’t help but grin back at you, the total mess that took place just hours ago wiped from his mind completely, and he leans into your touch.
The both of you just stay like that for a moment, your thumb sweeping across his cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. Then you wince, and no matter how much you try to hide it, he can see the wave of pain inflict your body.
“I’ve got your tablets, sweetheart.” He reaches into his pocket, a desperation to his actions now; he hates seeing you like this. You just nod, pushing a meek but honest “thank you” past your lips, so quiet that he almost doesn’t hear it. His heart swells.
Joel presses out one tablet and hands it to you, then picks up the glass of water that stands on your side table, making a mental note to replace it later. You take the pill, grabbing hold of his hand before he can pull it away, and give it a gentle squeeze. He follows your lead and tips the water to your lips once you’ve placed the tablet on your tongue, gently helping you swallow and squeezing your hand right back.
A look of relief washes over your face, and he finally lets himself relax. He stands, letting go of your hand and leaning over to kiss your forehead, before pulling off the clothes he’d taken from Marco’s wardrobe and climbing in beside you.
He only knew heaven in these moments with you, late at night, when your hands reach for him beneath the sheets and your head nuzzles into his neck. It’s no different tonight; he’s quiet, unsure if you’d fallen asleep in those few seconds, and as much as he wishes you’d rest, he can’t deny the way his lips curl when he feels your gentle touch wrap around him.
“How was today? Doing the sewage?”
Joel swallows. “Yeah, yeah. It was fine. Don’t you worry about it, sweetheart.” His arms envelop you, holding you tight against him, one hand drawing gentle circles on your back. He’s lost in the bliss for a moment, letting it wash over him in waves, when your hand brushes his haphazard and you freeze. So does he.
“Joel,” you say; it’s still a whisper, but not the tired kind you’d given him earlier. It’s like you’re too scared to ask. “What’s that?”
He panics, holding you tighter, trying to think. He can’t believe himself for not remembering to cover it, to make sure you didn’t see.
“There was an accident today. I did some building work before I went to sewage, a pipe fell. Nicked me real bad-” you gasp, forcing yourself to sit up with shaky arms. Joel immediately pulls you back down, his hands grasping your face, staring into your eyes like they held the world inside them. It’s dark, but they glimmer, and he just hopes you can’t see his fear.
“No no. It’s fine, baby. I’m fine. Got seen by the doc, got a couple ‘a stitches. Says i’ll be all good by tomorrow.”
“By tomorrow? Joel that doesn’t sound right-”
He interrupts you. He hates this. “I promise, baby. That’s what she said. I promise.” He wipes a thumb across your cheek, and the way you seem to settle, to believe him, makes him ache. He hates this.
You nuzzle back into his side, placated. You trust him, endlessly, and he hates that he abuses that trust just as much as he needs to protect you. A means to an end, he thinks.
The two of you are silent for a few moments, your hand lay gentle over his wound. Like you’re trying to heal it. He thinks it’s working.
“Thank you for picking up my medicine,” you say.
“It’s okay.” His words are quiet, muffled; he’s got his face buried in your hair now, revelling in your scent, and really, he doesn’t want to talk about this with you. He doesn’t want to lie anymore than he already has.
You’re still oblivious, though. Still sweet.
“I’m so glad you can make my rations cover it. I don’t know what I’d do if they made them more expensive.”
Oh, babygirl, he thinks.
Because your rations don’t cover your medicine. Neither did his. Even combined, they’d hardly cover a drink in the bar these days. He’d seen you work and work and work, in spite of the pain that bloomed in your abdomen and tortured your bones until you could hardly stand up anymore, and he saw the way they laughed in your face and turned you away when you tried to get the help you needed. When you tried to trade your labour for medicine. You were nothing to them.
So he told you he could barter the price down. That it was best if he goes from now on, to make sure you’re not taken advantage of. He takes your rations, stuffs them right back in the savings pot you keep above the shelves in your kitchen, and leaves to make whatever underground deals he needs to in order to get those meds. And you didn’t know a thing.
He must’ve been quiet for a while, because you continue. “And I’m glad you don’t do those scary things anymore.”
That gets his attention. “Scary things?”
“Yeah. Like, the smuggling and stuff.” You take a breath, tighten your arms around his waist. “I mean, I know why you did it. I’m glad you were able to look after yourself.”
Joel curses to himself, unable to wipe the tears that brimmed in his eyes as you spoke, because that would mean letting go of you.
“But I’m also glad you don’t do that anymore. You go out, and you work, even the horrible sewage shifts like tonight.” You giggle, but Joel can’t even force himself to smile. Shame consumes him.
“I’m proud of you, Joel.”
He’s silent. He doesn’t know what to say. He feels like shit.
If you notice his stillness, you don’t mention it. That alone makes his heart ache; you’d always been so understanding, so careful to make sure he’s okay while knowing exactly how to handle his feelings.
It’s odd, really, how fiercely you protect one another. He doesn’t let the darkness of the world so much as touch you, and you extract the horrors from his veins like a vacuum, making him forget the damage was ever even there.
His eyes flitter down, watching you drift asleep, finally at peace and free from pain. He exhales.
He’d never feel good about lying to you. But some things, he thinks, are worth it.
You are worth it.
And so he brushes away the hair that’s fallen over your eyes, trying to fight the droopiness of his own so he can keep them on you for just a second longer. But sleep overtakes him, and the only reason he lets himself fall into dreamland, is because he knows he’ll find you there, too.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x yn#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fluff#joel miller#pedro pascal x yn#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x y/n#my writing#poeticbarnes#poeticbarnes writes
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
don’t make me lose you. i already found you so late | joel miller
TRIGGER WARNING! SH
Su**ide attempt! Detailed description of how they feel. They’re really in a bad mind-set. If this triggers you please please don’t read. (And remember you worth more than everything on this universe. Please don’t be ashamed and seek for help.)
cw: darkness, anger, MAJOR mental breakdown, curse words, guns
summary: Everything in this world feels fucked up and at some point you can’t take it. But Joel wants you to know that he’ll be there for you everytime you need him. He’s your savior.
A/N: I know everything seems so dark but it will get better I promise.
"Look at me Ellie. I need you to pull yourself together, okay? Can you do that for me baby? C'mon Els. C'mon babygirl. We don't have time for that. We can't waste time. Joel is waiting for us. C'mon. Get up. I need you. I need you strong baby. You're stronger than me. If you break down I break down. We can't afford that. Please, please, please, get up. What we saw in there is not easy on anyone. I know, believe me. If we had time, I would cry my eyes out here. But I can't, fuck. Fuck this. Fuck me. Remember what Joel told you, Els? Repeat it. C'mon. Say it out. C'mon." You kicked the rocks under your boots. Hands caressed your hair as you try to hold back your tears.
"Fuck, Ellie. Say it!" You yelled at the girl sitting on a concrete.
"He, he told me to keep you safe." She wiped her tears with back of her hand. Got up.
You hugged her with pain in your heart. Shook of the guilt and anger that you felt for yourself. You had to be strong for Ellie. You had to be strong for yourself. You had to be strong for Joel. There was no place for weakness.
"Let's go Els. He's waiting for us." You hold her hand as you walked on the concrete road. Sun was setting on the empty road. Gun's strap on your shoulder was cutting into your skin with its weight. Twisted ankle's pain was spreading over your body with every step you took. Blood on your your skin dried with the cold breeze. Ellie was quieter than she ever was. You just wanted to open her brain and erase everything she saw because of you.
Joel asked only one thing from you since the beginning. Only one thing. To take Ellie as he handles other important stuff. And meet him where you decided before. And you fucked it up. You screwed up so bad that now Ellie was hurt. You hurt Ellie. You wanted to grab the gun that was hanging from your thigh, put the tip in your mouth and pull the trigger. Knowing that you failed, weight was crushing you.
When sun was down and weather was cold, your destination was a mile away but your legs was about to give up. The smoke from Joel's fire was in sight in clear air. When your knees gave up and your swollen ankle was in unbareble pain you dropped your body under the nearest tree. You pulled your knees to youe chest, your head falling on them.
"Ellie, you go. I will be there in a minute, okay? Tell Joel I'll be alright. Stay with him. Never leave his side. Run. Go. Signal me when you're with him." Ellie wanted to resist but was too tired to do so.
When she turned back and walked away from you the tears you were holding back the whole time started running down on your cheeks. Leaving a trail of dirt and blood. Fingers brushed over the gun on your leg. Your mind getting dizzy with the idea. Idea of being that. Leaving everything behind. The Clickers, the chaos, the pain, Ellie, Joel.
Joel.
The man who saved you. The man who gave you everything in the middle of nothing. The man of your dreams. The man that you love. You were sure that he loved you as a friend, or a sister, a daugter. But you couldn't help yourself falling for him. You couldn't stop your feelings for him. That was another topic that you failed him. He protected you from the world like he protected Ellie, but you loved him in a different way. You desired him, even. The way he talks, walks, stands, sleeps, eats. That man triggered something inside you.
It was all over now. Your life was gonna be over in seconds. You pulled gun from its case. Cocked it. Put the muzzle on your temple. Cold from it soothed the thin skin. Your finger walked to the trigger. A small shaky breath left your lips. Eyelids closed with the relaxation. Knowing that everything was gonna be over.
"Hey! Hey! Put the gun down. What the hell are you doin'?" Joel's paniced voice filled your ears as he panted.
"Put it down. PUT IT DOWN Y/N!" You opened your eyes when he yelled at you. Never stopping tears was now faster. Your eyes started to burn.
"I fucked up, Joel. It's over. I failed Ellie, I failed you. I fucked everything up."
"No, babygirl. No, she's safe. You're safe. We can fix everything else. Give me the gun." He took a step towards you. Your hand raised to stop him from getting closer. You didn't want your blood over his shirt. You wanted him to stay out of this.
"You'll be better of without me, Joel. I'm just a failure. Just let me do it."
"Ellie needs you Y/N. Fuck. I need you. Can't do it without you. Please. Let me help you. Baby, please." His voice was now weak, he looked smaller to you. He mumbled things under his breath but your mind was to busy to understand. Your head started to spin, your stomach was burning up with the intense feeling. You tried to stop yourself from puking but it was to late. Gun dropped from your hand as you leaned over with the gagging reflex. He grabbed the gun as you emptied your stomach. Unloading it with shaky hands.
"You're okay baby. I got you. I got you." He pulled you to your legs, wrapped his arms around your waist.
"You gonna be fine. I got you." He kissed the temple that was touching with the gun's muzzle. "We got this." His hands caressing your back with soothing motions.
"Joel, I," Your tears left wet patches on his dark colored flannel.
"I don't know what to do. I, I can't keep going." He squeezed you more with each of your words.
"Y/N look at me. Ellie wouldn't be here without you. I wouldn't be here without you. You took a fucking bullet for that kid, remember?"
His hardened fingertips found the scar tissue on your shoulder. A spider web shaped, darkened skin. Still hurting everytime you think about it.
"I need you. I need you to be right by my side when I need you the most. Like you always did."
You dropped on your knees, taking him with you. Sharp rocks cut your skin and dig into your knees that your ripped jeans left unprotected. Pain made you sob. Harder than before.
You looked through his dark orbs with dove eyes.
"Is Ellie gonna be okay, Joel?" He pressed his lips to your forehead.
"She fell asleep. You wanna talk about what happened or do you wanna talk when you're better?"
You closed your eyes in pain.
"She saw it. Went into that room before I could stop her. I was slow, Joel. I couldn't protect her. I had one job. I failed. She may be alive but I know it will hunt her dreams for the rest of her life. Joel. I'm useless."
"She's stronger than you think. It's gonna be alright. But, baby I know this is not the only reason. What got you so vulnerable?"
Your nails dig into his biceps. Pain in your heart never going away.
"I don't know Joel. Nothing. Everything. I feel tired. I feel small. I feel useless. I feel lost. I feel alone. Like you have Tommy. Ellie has you. Who do I have? All alone in this fucking fucked up world trying to survive. Fighting for my life everyday. And it all ends up with nothing in my hands. Just more pain in lonely cold nights."
Joel's big hands grabbed your chin to make you look at him. You could see the pain in his eyes under the dim moon light.
"You have me, baby."
His eyes dropped to your scarred lips in the silence of the night. Thumb brushed against bottom lip, looking through every expression on your face for courage to do it.
"Don't make me lose you. I found you so late already."
He pressed his lips to yours. Washing over every feeling away from you for a moment.
#Joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal fanfiction#tlou#tlou joel#pedro pascal smut#the last of us#tlou hbo#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller/ yn#joel miller/ you#joel miller x you#joel x you
977 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐏𝐎𝐕: You and Pedro make a video call every time one of you goes on a trip for work, you do it every time you miss each other, in each call you tell different anecdotes and in each of them there are always moments in which the two of you always end up They laughed, always in the end they always end up sending a virtual kiss and telling each other how much they miss each other, hoping to see each other again to make up for lost time.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#pedrostories#pedro is daddy#pedro pascal x ofc#pedropascal#pedro pascal x pregnant!reader#pedroispunk#josé pedro balmaceda pascal#pedro x reader#zaddy pedro#pedropascaledit#pedro pascal x platonic!reader#pedro pascal pov#pedrohub#Pedro Pascal x yn#pedro pascal x female reader
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
zombie apocalypse: Joel miller
It was the end of the world a zombie apocalypse to be exact, you and your husband Joel got separated from each other at some guarded prison shelter when it started you tried everything to be with him but the guards wouldn't let that happen,
Joel tried everything you saw. He caused a fight with one of the people who was in charge. You ran over to try to stop him but someone grabbed you. Let me go’ struggling to form their grip but they wouldn't let you go.
That was 6 months ago you were on your own still looking to were Joel was you could possibly think he was safe untouched,
You went out and searched for days, when it turned into weeks. Still nothing you weren't about to stop finding him until you found him alive and somewhere safe,
It was a sunday afternoon and you were outside by the gate. And that's where everything stopped,
There he was walking up with a girl with him as he approached you with slow steps his eyes look at you,
Joel’ you whisper lowering your gun, he comes closer to you until he can reach you as he comes closer you run up into his arms.
Y/N he says stuttering his grip was now hugging you’ your alive he says’ nodding smiling up at him, his hand on your cheek leaning in to kiss him,
I'm so glad I found you” Joel says me too you say and. who is this you ask looking at him this is Ellie, and he smiles.
Thank you so much for reading❤️
#joel miller#the last of us#joel miller x reader#oneshot#multi fandom blog#joel miller x oc#joel miller x you#joel miller x original character#joel miller x y/n#ellie williams#ellie tlou#the last of us x reader#the last of us x you#x yn#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Storm {Dave York x F! Reader}
Summary: You fuck up on the mission and Dave needs to punish you.
Warnings: Oral (F receiving), Rough sex, Established relationship, P in V sex, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Consensual Use of Restraints, Mentions of Injury, Mild Injury - bruising and some Grumpy Dave. (If i’ve missed anything please let me know!)
Word Count: 1,561.
A/N: This was written in like less than two hours, so don’t expect too much lol.
Also I wanted to write something with the words ‘kiss it better.’
Tranquillity. There is no better word to describe the aftermath of a storm. Once the harsh unforgiving wind has reduced to a soft welcoming breeze.
The damage he’s assessing right now is minimal, but he inspects it with an unwavering concentration. The light bruising around your wrists, he had told you you were pulling too hard, but you didn’t listen. His lips ghost your tender skin, barely there but enough to heighten all of your senses.
He’s overwhelming, but it’s still never enough.
“You could have been so good for me,” he says with a sigh. “Could have stuck to the plan, but you didn’t. Lost sight of you for a good ten minutes… and then I felt the loss of you everywhere.”
“Dave, I,” you start to say, but his hand gently wraps around your mouth and he shakes his head. A soft warning not to get yourself in more trouble.
“No. No excuses. We lost eyes on you. All my men had to abandon their posts, it was messy. Because you didn’t stick to the plan.” His lips press down against the bruising, his tongue peeking out to sooth the ligature marks. “Wanted to bring you back here and reward you for being a good girl, keep my face buried between those legs until you couldn’t take it anymore… Instead I had to do this.”
You watch his eyes widen as he picks up your other arm, the bruising a little darker and the skin more raw. His fingertips run softly against where the restraints had been, before he brings it up to his mouth. Peppering kisses that are much too sweet for the anger that's still bubbling in his stomach.
“I thought he was going to get away,” you whisper as he rubs gentle circles into your painful wrists.
“When do I let targets get away?” Dave replies with a raised eyebrow.
“You don’t.” You say quietly back at him.
*
Looking up at him, he’s almost a different person than the man who had pulled you into his room last night. You didn’t think he was going to come into your room after the shitshow that went down, but he did. He was silent as he took the covers off of you and helped you out of your bed, one hand possessively covering yours as he led you down the hallway to his room.
“Strip.” The first word he had said to you in hours. You immediately obeyed. Usually he’d watch, but last night he didn’t. He rifled through his luggage until he had the two ties he had searched for. You took a small step towards him and he shook his head no. “You don’t get to touch me. You don’t get to talk to me. You use the safe word if you have to, but tonight I don’t want to hear anything else from you.”
So you simply nodded in response.
“Lay down. Hands over your head.” He ordered and again, you immediately obeyed. He straddled your chest as he tied the restraints around the bedposts and then around your wrists..
The calm before the storm.
He stripped down in front of you, before standing for a few minutes just looking at you. Giving soft languid strokes to his cock as he did so.
He slapped your thighs in a silent order for you to spread them, before crawling between the space. Keeping that stoic silence as he looked down at your glistening pussy.
“Soaked,” he said with a tut. And then he moved. It was quick, his position changing in a split second and it was only as his warm tongue flicked against your throbbing clit that you fully realised that he wasn’t upright anymore. He lapped at it forcefully, his arms wrapped around your thighs tight enough that you now had little bruises from his unforgiving fingertips. He flattened his tongue and dragged it through your folds a few times, before going back to that little bundle of nerves.
He was loud, it was messy and his usual sense of restraint was missing. Instead of teasing and making you beg, he instead just ate you out like a man starved. He chuckled as he heard you pull against the restraints, the rattling of the headboard getting louder and louder as you neared your peak. You screamed his name and your thighs acted like a vice as they clamped around his head.
The storm.
He pulled away from you, the smug look that had been splashed across his face turned into a scowl. He tugged aggressively at his hard cock a few times before lining it up against your entrance. The snap of his hips was harsh. He didn’t want you to adjust to him. He wanted you to feel that sense of discomfort that consumed him as he had lost you… he wanted you to feel the stinging he felt in his chest as he recalled the terrible things the target had done to young women such as yourself.
The pace was rough, his fingertips had found purpose on your hips and dug in without care for your comfort. He wasn’t letting you go, he wasn’t risking you drifting away from him and out of sight again. So the grip got tighter and tighter as his cock punched in and out of you.
He growled at you as your hands continued to fight against the restraints. He could see the desperation in your eyes, your need to touch him, to tell him you were sorry but he wasn’t ready for your apologies. He needed you to feel a fraction of the pain he felt, so he continued with his relentless pace. Not caring about your pleasure, only chasing his own. You had already cum. You didn’t deserve to, but you had. So this was for him.
“Take it,” he spat down at you, “Fucking take it all.” The bed groaned loudly beneath you, the headboard slammed against the wall but he didn’t give a fuck who heard or who he was disturbing. The whole hotel could be listening for all he fucking cared, all that mattered was the way your cunt was fitting him like a glove and you were taking every single harsh punch of his cock.
He was pulling you down onto his cock with every thrust. He groaned louder as your cunt sucked him back in every time. It took him by surprise as much as it did you. But with a particularly rough thrust his cock began to throb inside you even harder, seconds later he was spilling inside of your warm cunt. Painting your walls with his cum, whilst he groaned something about how ‘you can’t ever do that to him again.’
“Fuck,” he said with another grunt before pulling out of you and pushing your thighs back together. “Keep it ins—.” And then it was just silent.
He cut himself off and the silence was immediately deafening. His eyes focused on one spot that you couldn’t see. Gently you felt his fingertips rub against your left hip, nothing registered as the adrenaline continued working its way through your body. He rubbed that spot a few more times before climbing up the bed and settling next to you before releasing you from the restraints.
“Don't say anything,” he warned quietly as he pulled you closer to him. “Not tonight. Please… just don’t say a word.”
*
The aftermath.
He doesn’t stop kissing the marks on your arm, and you make no effort for him to stop. You both know that you should be back in your room by now, the rest of the guys would be up and about any minute but that did nothing to speed him up.
Instead he gently places your arm back on your chest and takes a semi-deep inhale. Looking down at your face before exhaling and moving away.
Settled towards the end of the bed, he starts to pull the blanket that’s covering your nude body down. Inch by inch until it’s just above the spot he’s dreading to see. “Don’t scare me like that again,” he murmurs before pulling it down below that bruise.
It had already started to form the night before and he knew overnight it would grow darker, get more tender and the discomfort would be evident for a few days.
He sighs, “Can you feel it?” he eventually asks but you don’t. His fingertips inch their way towards it and he slowly brushes them against it and then… you do.
“Oh, ouch.” You gasp quietly. But he hears it. You both tense up, and he groans again.
“I didn’t realise I was holding you so tightly,” he says, remorse dripping from each word.
“Me neither,” you say as you reach up to touch his face, groaning in upset as he attempts to turn it away from you.
“You scared me.”
“I know. I’m so sorry, Dave.”
“I’ve really hurt you.”
You shake your head, a small smile forming to comfort him as he grows more agitated. “You didn’t.”
His fingers find their way to the bruise again, they linger in the air just millimetres from it.
“Baby… kiss it better,” you plead, watching as his eyes soften before he carefully moves his face closer to it. The softest touch of his lips, making you forget the throbbing pain. “Kiss it better.”
#pedro pascal#the equalizer 2#the equalizer 2 fanfiction#dave york#david york#dave york x f!reader#dave york x you#dave york x ofc#dave york x female reader#dave york x reader#dave york smut#dave york x yn#my fanfic#my fanfiction
137 notes
·
View notes
Text
Firefly Discription
The Last of Us
Joel Miller x Reader
Age-Gap 17 years
Yn is 19 in 2003 & 39 in 2023
Joel is 36 in 2003 & 56 in 2023
Warnings/Triggers
Violence
Strong Language
Adult Themes
Anxiety
PTSD
Mention of Death
Age Gap (17 years)
Description:
Yn used to watch Sarah before the outbreak. She was with them when everything happened. Through the years she pulls away from Joel and Tommy and joins the fireflies. Then she goes off with Tess and Joel outside the walls to get Ellie to the state house. Marlene told her to make sure Ellie is safe and unharmed. Yn has always had a crush on Joel even back then when she babysat for him.
They started to have something between them when they got to Boston's QZ. Joel couldn't deny that she was beautiful. And she filled part of that gaping hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. He did everything to protect her on their journey and even after. But he became so overprotective to the point that yn couldn't stand it.
He was treating her like a child and although she understood why he did it she just could deal with it and on top of that–there Tess. She was closer to his age and once he started to let her in and trust her they became close and yn became jealous. They started to fight and eventually yn walked away. She joins the fireflies and hasn't seen or talked to Joel in almost ten years.
That is until she's forced to go on the mission of getting Ellie to the State House. Then she has no other choice but to be around him and speak to him. Joel isn't too thrilled about it either but he can't deny that she still fills that small hole where his heart is supposed to be.
Yn nickname has always been firefly. It was given to her by her grandmother when she was little. She used to tell her that she used to be obsessed with fireflies. Always getting excited in the summer when it would get. She'd go outside and run around the backyard. Then when her grandfather passed away from a heart attack she became the blinking light in the dark for her Nonna. She could never be sad when yn were around. She was her happiness just like the fireflies were her happiness.
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#pedro pascal#ellie the last of us#the last of us hbo#the last of us#the last of us x reader#the last of us x you#joel miller fanfic#the last of us x yn#ellie x reader#tess servopoulos#bill x frank
49 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
author-luna
Luna's blog
pg-birganj
PG Birganj
letscrookedstudentunknownpo-blog
Untitled
thatsocialmediablog
That Social Media Blog
roxysmini
Roxy's Mini