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notjustjavierpena · 2 months

Text

Swelter

A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.

Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting

Word count: 6.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479

Swelter

A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.

Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.

You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.

“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.

“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.

“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”

Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.

“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”

“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”

“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”

“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.

“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”

“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”

“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.

“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.

“See?” Joel looks triumphant.

“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.

When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.

You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.

Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).

This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.

Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.

Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.

One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.

The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.

“Sarah, I need—“

You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.

Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.

And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.

“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.

God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.

“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”

“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”

You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.

“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”

“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”

The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.

“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.

In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.

“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.

“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”

“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.

“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”

You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.

The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”

Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”

“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”

“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”

So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.

A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.

You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.

He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.

With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.

That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.

Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”

“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.

“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.

“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.

“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.

Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.

Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”

“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”

“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”

“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”

It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.

“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.

“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”

This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.

However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.

“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”

“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.

“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”

“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.

His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.

In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.

When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.

He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.

Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.

“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.

“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”

“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”

With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.

“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”

“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”

“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.

When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.

“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”

“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”

“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.

“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.

When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”

Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.

God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”

“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.

“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“

He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.

You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”

“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.

Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”

“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”

He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”

You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.

“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.

“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.

Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.

The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.

However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.

“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.

You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.

“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“

“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”

His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.

“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.

“Wrong word,” he replies.

You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”

He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.

Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.

Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.

“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.

“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.

The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”

“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.

“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”

“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.

“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.

“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”

“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.

He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”

“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.

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#pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us #my writing #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller the last of us

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softiepedrito · 2 months

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yeah, I know.

#if i speak #uhmmmm #he looks so good #wahhhhh #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x you #pedrito #joel miller #pascalispunk #daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry.#the last of us #the mandalorian

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milla-frenchy · 30 days

Text

7 AM

0k8 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Summary: Joel fucks you by the window, some guy watches you Warnings: 18+ mdni. Exhibitionism, rough sex, dirty talk, piv, creampie. Mention of somnophilia. Reader’s hair can be pulled. No age specified, no outbreak a/n: same couple: 5 days collection, but can be read alone @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta reading 💕🫶 Gif in the mood board by @pedropascalsx 🙏 Series masterlist | Masterlist

**************

The sun's rays woke you up early, too early for a Sunday. You contemplated going back to sleep, before glancing at Joel. He was snoring softly, lying on his stomach, one leg slightly bent, his face turned towards you. You looked over him, from his tousled curls to his bare back. His arm was hugging the pillow, the sheets were tangled just below his ass. He’d gone out with friends the night before, and had fallen asleep wearing his gray sweatpants.

It was one of the rare nights when he didn’t fuck you before you two went to bed or while you were asleep.

You smiled looking at him and decided to let him rest. You got up and left the bedroom, closing the door behind you. After making yourself some coffee you went to the living room. It was bathed in light. You walked to the window and saw a few people who were already jogging outside. You put your coffee on the windowsill, waiting for it to cool off.

You felt Joel behind you before you heard him, right before he placed his hands on your hips.

“What are you doin’ here, sweetheart?” he asked, his mustache brushing against your ear.

He pressed his crotch against you before you even had time to respond. His morning wood found its place against the crease of your ass, leaving you breathless.

“Mmm?”, he insisted, leaning more against you.

“I…didn’t wanna wake you up.”

“Is that right?”

You felt him pull down his sweatpants, just below his balls. His hard cock sprang free towards the ceiling before he slid it between your thighs with a firm hand on his shaft. He pushed your panties to the side, and grabbed your breasts under his large t-shirt.

“Mmmm…you smell like me”, he murmured.

“Joel…people could see us.”

“Yeah? Shoulda think about it earlier, sweetheart.”

He pressed on your back to bend you further towards the window, and nestled his cock at your entrance. You held your breath. You always loved it when he fucked you without preparation, whether with his fingers or his tongue. The painful second when he thrust in always gave way to long minutes of pleasure when you forgot about everything, except for his shaft ruining your pussy.

When he pushed in, you let out a soft “fuck” biting your lip.

“Yeah, take it, just like that. Good girl.”

He bottomed out, growling, his hands tight on your hips and his gaze down on your ass.

“Shit, this pussy’s barely wet. Poor baby...must be harsh to take this big cock without me spreading you first.”

His pace was slow, but so powerful, that your forehead hit the window each time his cock sank between your folds. He grabbed your hair when you didn’t respond, pulling your head back.

“So cockdumb, when I fuck you raw like that. That’s what you wanted, when you woke up?”

He kissed your neck before nibbling on it, pulling you back against his chest. His hand left your hair to grab a breast and he picked up the pace, thrusting in faster. Then he bent you forward again, making your forehead hit the window, one hand firmly gripping your shoulder for leverage. A jogger passing the house glanced up at your window and slowed down when he saw you.

“Joel!!”

But he neither stopped nor slowed down. He pressed down on the back of your neck, holding you against the window, chasing his orgasm. The stranger was almost walking at that point, watching you two. You slipped your hand into your panties, desperately twirling your clit under your finger.

“Fuck…you’re gonna get off while some guy’s watching you being pounded? Oh, baby…didn’t know you were such a bad girl.”

You couldn’t help but look at the man, now standing in front of the house. There was a smile on your face when the orgasm hit you, your pussy clenching on Joel’s cock. He stopped, buried deep inside your core as his cum spurted over your walls. His eyes were fixed on the man, still watching you.

“Damn it, Joel…”

Once your pussy stopped milking his cock, he grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him, tucking his member back into his sweatpants with the other hand.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re gonna ride my face, right now, in bed. And this time you're gonna cum without looking at a damn stranger. Bet he��s gonna jack off when he’ll get home, thinking about this pussy he can’t have.”

You looked out the window one last time. The man readjusted himself before continuing his run.

****************

Same couple: 5 days collection

***************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

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promisingyounglady · 1 month

Text

accident. | JP x Reader

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Wife!Reader

SYNOPSIS: we all make accidents. javier forgetting to pick you up at the train station was an accident. you forgetting to bring an umbrella was an accident. throwing a knife at your husband? you’re going to have prove that one was an accident to him.

WC: 3.6k

WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, mentions of weapons and knives, reader throws a knife at javier *just read you’ll find out*, implied age gap, established relationship, javier is a bit older than reader, domestic au, slight dom!javi, mentions of food and cooking, profanity, bratty!reader, reader is mean but javier can be meaner, floor sex, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, handcuffs, cum eating, brief oral (f recieving), slight non-con, rough sex, praise, degradation, post-sex sweetness, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE: obsessed and mentally ill. so here’s slightly dom!javi with a ton of angst

A headache ensues in Javier’s mind.

He tries to combat it with the clouds of smoke rising through the air, the comfortable scent of tobacco and cigarettes filling his nose as he takes a drag from the stick perched in between his blistered fingers, this inhale, longer than the last.

Today had been shit. It really had. All day he had been cooped up in the office with stacks of paperwork almost taller than himself, tossed onto him and Murphy's desk by the higher ups, a high demand for deadlines with their patience being low.

Javier had been sitting in his office for almost seven hours straight, looking at papers with tiny writing and filing reports with pen until sensitive pink blisters formed around a hand that should’ve been driving and carrying a gun today, out in the field on a mission another team had instead been tasked with.

He’s getting old for this stuff, and he knows its true when he feels a strain in his back from shifting in his seat.

Maybe that’s why they shoved the paperwork in the old man’s hands.

Javier leans forward, grabbing his almost empty pack of cigarettes from his desk, deciding a fourth one was necessary for tonight.

“Javier,” a voice calls for him, looking up when he sees the new secretary holding the phone facing her chest. “You’ve got a call”

“From who” he says gruffly, brows furrowed. He lights the cigarette with his lighter, tossing it onto his desk and taking another puff.

“It’s your wife,” The secretary states. “she’s asking what you want for dinner.”

Javier stops in the middle of flicking the ashes, letting the cigarette sit warm in his fingers when he turns his head so he could see her correctly.

Your sweet voice calls out through the receiver, a chill running down Javier's spine when he makes out that it really is you.

“Yeah, Sherry, it’s fine if he’s busy, just let him know I called. Tell him dinner’ll be late tonight, at around 10.” you piped up sweetly, saying goodbye to your husband's secretary before hanging up the call.

She leaves after telling him what he already heard, but Javier is quick to immediately put out the burning cigarette and quickly grab his coat, making his way out the office.

“Peña, Where are you going? We only got a few more stacks left” Murphy calls out, hair in a mess from the many stressful tugs and his own cigarette nestled in between his fingers.

“my wife.” Javier replies, suddenly not liking the bitter taste in his mouth.

“It’s raining outside, you’re gonna get drenched” the blonde tells him, shaking his head as he took a drag from his own cancer stick.

Javier stops in his tracks, looking outside the window to see his partner was right. It was pouring out there, hardly able to even make out the cars in the parking lot.

Him getting wet was the least of his worries. It was you, he was thinking of.

“Fucking hell.”

You set the receiver down on the living room table. The ticking of the clock resonating in the silent house before a sigh finally escaping your lips.

Droplets of rain water cloud your vision, cheeks pink from the cold as water dripped onto your wooden floorboards.

Fists clench and unclench around the handle of the umbrella given to you by an old lady at the train station.

“A girl like yourself shouldn’t be alone in the rain, mija” she insisted, letting you take her frilly umbrella as her son would pick her up shortly.

Javier was supposed to pick you up too.

But after forty minutes of standing out in the rainy weather under a flimsy roof as you waited for his truck to pick you up, you disappointedly caught a taxi and drove home by yourself

You were returning from your visit to your sick grandmother. You were her only granddaughter who she called the week prior, telling you how she missed you and wanted you to visit.

Javier insisted you went, not wanting to hold you back and assured he would come to pick you up at the station after the weekend spent with her.

What a fucking liar, you thought to yourself.

You quickly undressed your wet clothes, the outcome of having to have walked in rain to find an available taxi this evening.

You're curious to see the look on Javier’s face when you make him beg on his knees and ask for forgiveness. Maybe you wouldn’t even kiss him tonight, thinking in silence as you prepared for dinner.

You definitely weren’t trying to think about what an excellent opportunity this was to be a brat.

—

Javier parks into his quiet drive way exactly thirty minutes before 10. That’s thirty minutes of trying to get on your good graces and pray that he wouldn’t be sleeping outside tonight.

When he opens the door to the house, his heart beats fast. Prepared to see you ready to lash out at him, he’s instead surprised with the aromas of spices and your homemade cooking wafting to his nose, unconsciously realizing that he skipped lunch today from how caught up he was with work.

Picking up your wet jacket from the floor, Javier slots his keys and sunglasses in the bowl by the entrance, hanging his own jacket as well before he makes his way quietly to the glowing kitchen.

The stovepot is on a low boil, and he sees you in a long t-shirt, one that you made sure wasn’t his. Your hair is damp, probably from a shower as you swiftly work your hands away in prepping the vegetables.

Javier mumbles quietly in a gruff voice. “You, uh, left your coat on the floor.”

Thwack.

An aggressive chop at the carrots replaces your words, each cut piercing louder like a gunshot ringing in his ears.

“Hermosa, I am so sorry.“ Javier begins sighing because he knows he fucked up real bad this time.

Thwack. You moved onto the chicken meat.

“There’s no excuse baby, I wasn’t keeping track after being cooped up in the office today.” he sighs, brows furrowing as big brown eyes stared into your back.

Thwack. Thwack.

The DEA agent flinches at the sound of the raw chicken being butchered by your swift, angry hands. You’re not facing Javier directly and yet he can already see your glaring eyes. He sighs, not wanting to fight you. He tries to lighten the mood, voice soft as he comments.

“Qué te ha hecho ese pobre pollo”

You don’t reply, let alone acknowledge your husband, continuing to brutally dice the chicken on the cutting board before turning around to wash your hands.

Javier watches you swiftly work in your kitchen, feeling sorry as he still watches you prepare dinner for the two of you after such a long train ride.

He moves forward, rolling his sleeves as he tries to help you . “Querida, I’ll help with the pot-”

The clang of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes in the kitchen, finally looking up to face your husband. Javier leans back, resting against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and gun holsters unremoved after coming home.

You try to ignore how tired he genuinely looks, reminding yourself you were just the same when standing all alone for that one hour.

“Y’know what Javier?” You begin, eyes watering and nose twitching in anger. Javier stays silent, staring at you with sincerity.

“Fuck you” you spit, pointing an accusing finger at the man. “fuck you and your fucking DEA work, Javier”

“Mi-”

“I had to wait forty minutes outside in rainy weather, trying to see if every car passing by would be yours.” you said, voice breaking towards the end. You felt uncomfortable waiting by yourself.

Javier shuts his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he tries to calm you down. He draws your name out in a firm but gentle tone.

You ignore him, replacing his words with your attitude. “You always do this!” you exclaim, voice rising.

“Leaving your wife and family second while you think it’s cool to go and chase criminals while risking your goddamn life.” You mutter, glaring at your husband.

“I didn’t want to leave you at the station all alone, honey. I’ve been sitting at my desk since afternoon drowning in paperwork the higher-ups dumped on us” he presses, eyes sincere but patience wearing thin.

You scoff, shaking your head. “So even stupid paperwork makes you forget your wife.”

Javier pinches his nose bridge, his head pounding as he tries to communicate with you.

You go back to cutting your vegetables, mumbling under your breath. “Who the fuck in Bogotá is giving you credit for slaving away all day trying to catch Escobar, hm?”

The words pierce through Javier’s heart.

Your eyes light up in fake sarcasm. “Oh, I bet it’s the fact that you’re too busy being a fucking doormat to all the younger agents at work aren’t you? What, Murphy said he can’t do his share of the work so he gave you his leftovers?” You spit.

“Hey," Javier snapped, gruffly and darkly. He looked at you, eyes narrowed and dark. "Stop it. I've told you."

Anger gets the best of you as you turn to the cutting board. Grabbing the first thing you saw.

A carrot piece shoots in his way. Javier flinches, the food hitting his chest. Your husband stands there, stunned at his wife’s childish behavior.

“Go fuck yourself, Peña” you say menacingly.

“We don’t throw food in this house, mama” he barks, hands on the hips of his belt, gun and badge tucked in his back. He would never use them on you.

A celery stick slaps Javier in the face this time, making his patience hanging on by a thread even thinner.

Maybe he could whip out the handcuffs.

“Dont you fucking call me that!” you said spitefully, throwing anything and everything you could at the man who dodged your attacks.

“Querida!” Javier raises his voice at you, a growl in his words.

You felt the cold, hard material in your hands for a split second before you’re throwing it at him, almost wondering yourself why you were getting so angry at Javier.

You didn’t want to fight this bad, but at the same time you were sick of watching him work himself to death, forgetting about you. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this.

But you already crossed that line. You both stand in silence, holding your breath as you realized what you threw.

Now it was your turn to fuck things up.

Javier’s lip snarls and his mustache is in a scary frown when he shifts his head.

Only a few inches beside his face lands a dull potato knife, wedged in the kitchen cupboards above. It wouldn’t have worked on anything since it was unsharpened and unused, but the tremendous force you had thrown it with allowed it to have been lodged in the wood.

You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth.

You both watch Javier slowly raise his hand, pulling the knife inches beside his head with ease before tossing it into the sink. The clatter of the metal blade hitting the sink rings in the kitchen. A swarm of guilt fills your chest as you stand still in fear.

“Javi… I-I’m so sorry” you say, heart beating against your chest, cautiously awaiting a reaction from him.

Javier dusts off the carrot peels on his shoulder, watching as his jaw tenses but shoulders relax.

“Come here.” he all but says quietly. You see Javier reaching for his back pocket, taking out his gun and badge and placing it on the counter.

That wasn’t what scared you.

What scared you was then seeing Javier pull out the silver handcuffs lodged in his back pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of him playing around with them.

“Javi, I’ll go get the-“

“Come. Here.” Javier cuts you off, staring at you with dark eyes.

You swiftly shake your head, refusing to go. “It was an accident!” You exclaimed, dashing out the kitchen as you tried to escape Javier who was hot on your heels.

“Honey.” he says in a not so endearing way, a warning edge to his voice.

Tears littered your cheeks, knowing that you pushed Javier’s limits and that he would really punish you for how bratty you had been tonight.

You gasp, running up the stairs before strong arms encaged your frame, desperately trying to escape before shrieking in surprise as Javier hoisted you over his shoulder, a loud and painful smack being brought down to your ass by his strong hands. You grimaced, helplessly being brought to the kitchen in swift strides.

”It was an accident, I’m sorry, I was just so angry!” You wailed, groaning as your back hit the carpeted floors of your living room. Your vision was hazy, the dizziness getting to you as you saw Javier leave the room into the kitchen, and come back a few moments later. This time, he was unbuttoning his shirt, his forest of chest hair and strong muscles peeking through.

Javier took a deep breath, eying the way your t-shirt had hiked all the way up so your panties were showing. Your hair spread around your head like a halo, and he noticed how you clenched your thighs together in vulnerability.

“Some accidents need to be punished, baby” he muttered darkly.

You sobbed softly, nose red as you turned your head to the side, looking away from Javi’s menacing look. He didn’t mind, he knew once he was done messing with you, you would be clawing at his chest, begging him to fuck you properly while looking into his eyes. Javier leans down at your level, crawling on your body so he was on top and you were trapped on the bottom. He rips your t-shirt off of you, leaving you in your bare state with panties flimsy enough he could rip them with his teeth. Not today though, he had other things in mind.

He coos at your weak state, dropping his head so he could press a kiss to your sensitive neck, giving a small nip that made you yelp. Two large hands come to play with your nipples, pulling each one hard in between his fingers as you moaned hysterically.

“What did I say about being fucking mean?” He says roughly. He inhales your scent, smelling a sweet sense of fear.

“Carino,” a warm voice calls out, you can feel the grin spreading on Javier’s face. You cry in a mix of pain and pleasure when he flips you on your tummy, cheek pressing against the rough carpet material as Javier slots his hard member encased in his jeans, right by the curve of your ass.

“Answer me, mama”

A clinking of metal makes you cry out in protest. No, you wanted to say, feeling Javier cuff you behind your back like you were one of his petty drug thiefs. But a slap to your ass cheek makes you gasp, eyes shutting as Javier pulls your panties off.

”Being mean gets me punished” you responded softly, a pool of desire aching in your folds as you almost tutted your ass up to show him you were ready. “I’m sorry, Javier” you sniffled quietly, hoping he would hear.

Javier laughs, cocking his head to the side as one hand groped the flesh of your bum, and the other undid his belt buckle. The sound makes your mouth water, wondering if he’ll let you suck him off too for forgiveness.

“So you do know how to be nice?” He groans, giving you no time before his hard members penetrates your entrance, head turning back and eyes rolling when you clenched around his dick so well. “Javier!” You screamed, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the strong stretch.

Your arms ached, desperate for release so you could brace yourself against the floor for every hard thrust your husband would give you.

“Listen carefully, querida” he moans into your ear, humping you as you moaned loudly. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up, alright?” When there was no answer, he slapped your cheek again, this time echoing throughout the living room and leaving a red splotch on your ass. “Answer me.” He growled, patience growing thin from your pathetic wailing.

You grit your teeth, hating the fact that you were supposed to be mad at Javier for forgetting about you, and yet here you were receiving back shots with a stinging red ass.

”Yes, Javier” you said back, feeling his girth stretch your walls.

”Good. And once I’m done fucking my pretty wife, you’re gonna suck me off like you mean it. That sounds good mi amor?”

You nodded in return, eyes shut and panting like a slut from the feeling of Javier slowing down his thrusts, deepening every stroke.

“Yes, Javier” you repeated.

He smiled, kissing your neck sweetly, contrasting his hip movements. “Thank you, mama” he replied, cherishing your sweet moans and gasps as he went at a deeper, harder pace.

It’s delirious, the whole situation. You feel as though you’re on cloud nine with the way Javier is so possessive of you, caging you like a butterfly in his garden with the apple of desire.

You felt sinful. You felt glorious. You needed his release to fill you up so badly.

“Javi…” you muttered, tits starting to get carpet burn from being fucked against the ground.

“I know mama, you’re doing so good for me. Taking your lesson so well” he groans, sweat beading at his forehead.

You were aching and begging for orgasm, but feeling Javier rut into you so passionately made it all worth it. It dissolved any anger, any resentment from earlier because you knew how good he could take care of you.

“You’re so fucking mean sometimes, you know that?” he tells you, brows furrowed and concentrated on fucking the daylights out of you. You could feel the handprints marking your hips, wondering how many of Javier’s marks would be on you tomorrow morning.

“I know” you sigh, feeling a slap come down on your ass as you groan louder.

“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that too?” you pant, squirming under your cuffs. Javier shudders, your walls sucking him a little too well.

“I know.” He says back gruffly.

Javier feels the knot untying in his stomach, too late to tell you verbally as you felt his warm seed leak inside, cumming first.

“Merida”

You were also close, loving how despite already coming, Javier was fucking you so that you could cum too.

”I’m gonna” you pant, forgetting to finish your words as you felt hot liquid threatening to spill from every stroke he made in your hole.

Javier whispers, pressing ticklish kisses from his mustache to your bare shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby, you know what to do” he muttered, both of you groaning loudly as both your releases became mixed inside you.

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you scream, hair a mess and pussy aching.

You feel dizzy, used but happy, shivering as a large sludge of your cum spills out and drips down your thigh to the carpet.

Javier is quick to lap you up with his tongue, slotting his face in your ass as he filthily cleans you up.

“Can you get these off me, please?” you ask him meekly, relishing the feeling of your sensitive wrists when they touch the cool air.

Your husband presses a kiss to each one, marking your ass and shoulders with playful hickeys and bruises.

You both catch your breath for a moment, Javier turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, your sensitive tits perking up.

It’s all so sudden but before you two realize it, you’re latching onto each other immediately, hungrily sharing a kiss as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Hermosa,” he tries to begin, before being shushed by you, pulling him back in to lovingly kiss your husband.

Sure, rough sex was great, but god did you love just kissing Javier absentmindedly. You had to touch each other, kiss each other, that was how you two made up.

“Lo siento, hermosa” he sighs, wanting to get lost in your embrace. You smile, knowing that Javier is sincere. “Me too.” You reply, voices hushed as it was now later in the night, the neighbors probably aware of what had happened next door. A moment passes.

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to suck you off?” you asked innocently, gazing up at Javier as your head rested on his chest.

He grins, softly whispering a later as he played with your hair, cock soft against his thigh as your leg nudges it playfully.

He growls, nipping your ear. “Behave” he says firmly, cheeks rosy. This time you listen.

“Who picked you up today then if I didn’t come?” Javi asks, reaching over to wrap a blanket around you two near the fireplace.

You smile, knowing that you can’t always listen to Javier’s warnings. “Just some cute young taxi driver. Asked me for my number y’know” you grinned.

Javier looks down, eyes darkening as he mutters softly. “Unless you’re gonna be a brat again, you better watch yourself” he reaches for your mound, cupping you softly so you moan in pleasure, still sensitive from the previous activities. He hoists you above his stomach, feeling your nails scratch his pudge and bend down as you give him a kiss. “I’m just messing with you” you giggle, a familiar feeling coming back when his bare cock is nestled by your thighs. “He was old. A grandpapi” you said, feeling his hands roam the flesh of your ass.

You press a hand against Javier’s chest, giggling as you peck his jawline. He rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively.

“I missed you.” he mutters, feeling you up.

You smile, remembering how warm it is on top of your husband before you shut your eyes softly.“Me too.”

You look up, apologizing to him. “Sorry for almost stabbing you with that knife”

You feel the vibrations and sounds of a loud chuckle, Javier holding on to you. “It was an accident” you mumble, circling shapes on his skin. He knows.

You make up for it by leaning in, pressing kisses under the shell of his ear. Whispering how you’ll let him stuff his cock in your mouth again to get even.

Fuck it, he thinks. He’d let you kill him anyday.

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talaok · 2 months

Note

Love your writing! Could we please do a cute pregnant reader x Pedro going to and at the SAG awards in honour of our boy winning! 🤍🙏🏼

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x pregnant!reader

a/n: this is how i found out he won btw. I'm so happy for him i cant even, I just love that fucking guy gosh ahhhh (as always this request skipped the line bc it wouldnt make sense in a month)

Gif credits: @tessas-thompson

"thank you" you told him as he emerged from underneath your bump after having slipped your shoes on for you.

Turns out that when you're 7 months and a half pregnant, the most basic tasks like putting on shoes become a two person job.

He only smiled, kissing your belly and then your lips before standing up, offering you a hand to do the same.

"Heels would have looked much better with this dress" you pouted, studying yourself in the mirror,

You hated ballerinas, but again, you weren't really in the condition to wear anything else.

"You look stunning sugar" he promised, kissing the crown of your head

You couldn't help but snort.

As much as he told you so over and over, together with everyone else in your life... you still struggled to see it, especially now in this uncomfortable dress.

"I look like a stuffed turkey" you sighed "and my boobs are so much bigger than when I first tried this dress, now they look a move away from spilling out"

His eyes twinkled with kindness, with love as he placed his hands on your waist and turned you towards him, away from your reflection.

"You're beautiful sweetheart" he promised, one hand now stroking your cheek as your own hands went to his waist "You're sexy and gorgeous and so fucking hot that if Coco wasn't still here I would demonstrate just how much right here right now" he growled, not giving you time to answer before he kissed you, soft at first, and then once you whimpered, it was like a switch turned and he was fiery and passionate and his left hand trailed to your ass and-

"Pedro!" you scolded him quietly, eyeing Coco on the other side of the room.

"she's seen worse"

She had.

Nonetheless, he took a step back, returning his hand to your waist.

"Thank you" you murmured, looking up into his hazel eyes "and by they way, you look very beautiful too"

You could have sworn you saw red staining his cheeks

"thank you baby"

You adjusted his shirt, as you got lost in your own mind.

There he was, you beautiful, talented, Emmy, golden globe and SAG award nominated husband, looking every bit as perfect as ever.

And just like that, tears pooled in your eyes

"what's wrong?" he asked, worried

"I just-" you sniffled, trying to fight the tears as your lips trembled "I-I'm so proud of you"

"aw sweetheart" he cooed, half laughing as he wrapped you into his arms.

He'd gotten used to it now, taking care of your over-emotional self was part of his daily routine.

"Y-you just" you cried "you worked so hard a-" another quiet sob "and n- now you're finally getting the recognition you deserve I-"

"I know baby, I know" he cooed, softly kissing the top of your head "thank you" he smiled, his fingers drawing soothing circles on your back "It means a lot to me too,"

"I love you" you murmured, finally raising your head to look at him

"I love you too honey" he kissed you, laughing softly as he pulled back to see tears still running down your cheeks "You're gonna cry the whole night, aren't you?"

"I made the makeup artist use only waterproof products" was your way of saying yes, yes I'm going to, and yes I've already planned ahead

He chuckled, kissing your forehead as his hands trailed to your bump, soft kicks hitting his palms.

"She's excited" he murmured

"She's proud of her daddy too"

__ __ __

Pedro Pascal.

Pedro P-

Your husband. they had called your husband.

It was probably comical from the outside, seeing the shock on both your faces as you stared blankly at each other, the way your mouth gaped open, while he slapped a hand onto his, it was like- it was like time had stopped, and the word went completely quiet, until- until-

"oh my god" you breathed, throwing your arms around him and hugging him so tight it probably hurt

He didn't dare speak a word as you leaned away, landing a kiss on his mouth as you gripped his face

"go" you laughed, grinning like an idiot as tears glimmered into your eyes "go" you urged again, this time, having him comply.

You watched every step, every move, until he was right in front of the microphone, his award in his hands.

"This is umh" he mumbled "This is wrong for a number of reasons-"

he was in shock, his voice trembling, his eyes watery, but he kept going

"b-but thank you hbo, Bella Ramsey, Craig Mazin, Neil Drukman, Frannie, and -" A shaky sigh fled his mouth, as he chuckled to himself "jeez louise I'm making a fool of myself and my wife is gonna make so much fun of me for it and-"

All the sudden his eyes were on you,

"my wife" he smiled, his smile brighter than the sun "I wanna thank my beautiful, amazing, intelligent, and perfect wife" he said "I love you y/n, I love you and our daughter more than anything in this world and if I'm here today- If I'm here today is mostly because of you"

You were shaking from how hard you were crying, from how happy, ecstatic, and euphoric you were for him.

"You've made me the happiest man on this earth, you've made me a dad, you- you're my everything sweetheart" he beamed "so thank you"

He stopped a moment, as if realizing only now this had all really happened

"And now I'm gonna stop talking 'cause I need to get down there to kiss you and try to make you stop crying" he laughed, ending his speech

"thank you, everybody, really, thank you"

__ __ __

He did exactly as he said,

he held you tight as he kissed you like the world was gonna end tomorrow, like if he didn't he was gonna die

And when he leaned away- when he leaned away time stopped once again, but as he pressed his forehead to yours, as you lost yourself in each other's eyes, you remembered

"You said it was wrong" you said, both your hands holding his face "but it's not" you shook your head, watching his eyes water "you deserve this baby, you do"

"sweetheart-"

"no" you shut him off, your voice hoarse from the sobs, but it didn't matter, you wanted him to know, you needed him to know "No I need you to understand that you do baby" You smiled "that you worked your ass off and that you deserve every single inch of this award" you took a deep breath, steadying your voice as you looked at him, so many unspoken words traveling between you

"ok?" you asked, finally

"ok" he beamed, kissing you again "God I love you so much"

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party-hearses · 6 months

Text

go ahead and cry, little girl

pairing: joel x f!reader (no use of y/n)

rating: explicit, MDNI 18+

word count: 2.4k

summary: daddy makes everything better.

warnings/tags: explicit smut, pwp, established relationship, softdom!joel, pre/no outbreak (up to you baby), brief mention of alcohol, daddy kink, pet names (baby, baby girl, little one, little girl), dacryphilia, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, size kink (big joel is big), overstimulation, creampie. lmk if i’m forgetting anything!

a/n: i said i needed to have the feelings fucked out of me, right?

huge thank you to @bastardmandennis for letting me cry and be dramatic about this, and @nostalxgic for beta-ing, and always being excited about what i’m working on 🖤

You’re two cocktails deep when Joel’s keys turn in the lock.

Anxious muscles carry you to meet him at the door, the overhead lights in the entryway low, cloaking you in shadow.

It startles him, a sharp hiss spit from between his teeth when he nearly bowls you over.

“Shit, baby. Scared me.”

He snaps the door shut behind him, massive frame silhouetted by the broken rays of light coming through the distorted glass.

“Daddy,” you whine in response, fingers already tugging on the cuff on his jean jacket, coaxing it off him.

It’s all he needs to hear.

Immediately, the jacket is on the floor, forgotten, and his hands are cradling your face tenderly.

“You need daddy?” he soothes, lips ghosting your own. You nod, doe-eyes wide and swimming with tears, bottom lip quivering in a pout.

“Baby…” he presses his mouth to yours hungrily, swallowing your pathetic hiccups, letting the way the tip of his tongue slides along the line of your lip finish his sentence. He opens you up for him, licking into you with a different kind of urgency, his tongue massaging hot against your own.

Open palms follow, slipping over the the sensitive flesh of your throat, thumbs tracing crescent moons into your jugular.

Your blood hums under his touch — blooms hot across the plane of your chest, thickens with anticipation. It would be too much, if it wasn’t exactly enough. If you didn’t need it.

His hands fall further, reassuring and insistent, until he’s scooping you up against him, one hand curved against the swell of your ass, fingertips edged just under the lace trim of your panties, the other splayed flat at the small of your back. You cling to him, arms locked around the heft of his neck, face nuzzled into the slope of his shoulder.

“Did my sweet baby have a bad day?” he mumbles into your hair, footfalls heavy in the narrow emptiness of the hallway leading to your bedroom.

You sniffle in response, tears still pinching at the backs of your eyes. He hums a condolence, a promise to make it better, into the delicate shell of your ear.

His arms tighten around you as he drops his body to the bed, positioning you securely in his lap. Absentmindedly, you grind down against him, desperate for him to have you now. To feel only him.

But you know he’ll take his time, given the way the hand on your back crawls up your spine to cradle the base of your skull in its palm. He laces his fingers in the roots of your hair, tugging just enough to tip your head back and meet your gaze.

Crystalline tears stream down the round of your cheeks, the torrid relief of finally being in Joel’s arms overwhelming. A small smile plays across his features when he sees them, eyes a cavernous, pooling black. He brings your face to his mouth, snaking his tongue out to catch the falling drops.

“You’re so pretty when you cry, baby girl.”

You whimper, writhing against his hold — a feeble attempt to roll your hips against his hard length eliciting a pitiful laugh from him.

“No, little one. You know the rules. Let daddy take care of you.”

Another hiccup, more tears, and a supplicant nod follow his command. He purrs against you, hand roaming around the gentle curve of your thigh to your center, where his thumb strokes soft lines across your throbbing clit. A reward for your capitulation.

You squirm under his ministrations, a dark pool of slick soaked across the material of your panties. His pressure remains consistent; practically feather-light and sumptuously tortuous.

The combination of soft lace and calloused skin drives you wild — makes you cant your hips forward, chasing his touch. Even though you know better.

He clicks his tongue against his teeth, tsk tsk, before skimming his other hand down the span of your arm to capture both your wrists in one massive palm behind your back. The muscles in your thighs quiver, knees dug into the bed on either side of him, overextended from the precarious act of balancing on his lap.

You flex your arms against his grasp, wiggling your ass for some kind of leverage. His grip only tightens — pushes forward to arch your body towards him, to press your chest flush to his.

“Little girl…” it’s a warning, his voice dripping as wet as your tears against the dip of your collarbone.

All you can manage is a broken mewl in the shape of his name, letters italicized and underlined with earnest desire. You know it’s exactly what he wants — to break you open completely, flesh and muscle and bone softened into something perfect and pliant.

“Need you, daddy. Need you,” you plead quietly.

His thumb strokes faster, harder. The zipper of his jeans bites into the place your thigh meets your pelvis, the sting of it sending shivers through you when he raises his hips.

“Say please, baby. Ask me nice.”

You don’t need to be told a second time.

“Please, daddy.”

He hums in pleased approval, pausing to skate the angle of his nose against the cut of your jaw.

“Let me undress you, little one.” He tugs your arms back, cupping your ass to steady you as you straighten your legs to shakily stand.

You watch the pull of his biceps through half-lidded eyes as he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your panties, laving tender kisses across your belly as he eases them down to your ankles. Your fingers clutch his disheveled curls for balance as he does, every graze of his skin against yours dizzying.

His hands slide back up your calves and thighs, languorous and reverent, beard scratching sinful against your softness. The clench of your cunt is persistent, slick dripping down the flesh of your thighs without your panties to stop it.

Your lashes flutter closed, bitten lips popping open as you let the feel of him consume you. It’s the sweep of his fingers that you focus on as they climb up, up, up, bypassing the place you need his touch most, to delve below your t-shirt.

He cups the fullness of your tits there, swiping his thumbs across your sensitive nipples before rolling them to taut peaks between his deft fingers. Sparks of pleasurepain wind through you when he pinches and pulls at them, soft moans decorating the space between your bodies.

The shirt comes off, then, his need growing to mirror your own, his touch more urgent — more desperate. His mouth finds your nipples immediately, sucking each into his mouth to swirl his tongue around the tight buds one at a time.

You tug at his curls gently, heat curving through your limbs. You’re soaked, cunt walls fluttering around nothing, head tipped back and chest heaving. Am I broken enough yet, daddy?

Pulling off your swollen nipple with a pop, he’s up and shucking his own clothing off as fast as you’ve ever seen him. It’s less than a minute before he’s got his arms wrapped around you, hauling your smaller body up the length of the bed to situate your dripping core directly over his mouth.

Your head swims, hands scrambling for purchase on the lip of the headboard before you’re even able to fully process the shift. He wastes no time in hooking his arms over your thighs, spreading you open above him, big brown eyes alight as they watch you flush and squirm.

He licks a broad stripe through your folds slowly, savoring the taste of you. He repeats the action, your fingernails digging divots into cheap wood with every lap. It’s only when you rock against his face rhythmically that he speeds up, pointed tongue flicking against your aching clit expertly. He circles it once, twice, three times before suctioning his lips around the bundle of nerves. The change in pressure makes you buck against him involuntarily, body trembling as he holds your firmly against his mouth.

It’s inescapable, but it’s everything you asked for.

Fingers pressing bruises into your thighs, he doesn’t let up licking figure eights into your folds, nudging his nose against the blinding ache of your clit.

“Daddy, daddy, daddyyy,” you cry, the tense stretch of your muscles ready to snap.

“I know, baby girl, I know,” he coos in response, words tangled by his tongue’s exploration of your velvet center. He dips it further inside you, collecting your slick on the flat of the muscle to drag it back up to your oversensitive bud.

Every nerve ending in your body lights up iridescent, heat swirling up the column of your spine. It’s the oblivion that you’ve been begging for since Joel walked in the front door, and your limbs tremble with deliverance.

He licks you through the aftershocks, tongue unrelenting against you. You whimper, hypersensitive, dropping one hand to card through his sweat-damp hair, a gentle insistence for him to slow down.

But he’s in control, and he knows he’s in control, so he drives his tongue into you as far as he can before laving short, quick strokes over your clit. You’re helpless to it, only able to push down against him, to let him draw another orgasm out of your quaking cunt.

Your second orgasm approaches too quickly, your body overwrought and writhing, slick flooding Joel’s waiting mouth. The noises he’s making are downright obscene, slurping like it’s the first meal he’s had in weeks, cheeks and beard sticky with you.

Panting brokenly, tears welling up in your eyes again, you try to pull away. He doesn’t let you, eyes blazing when you look down at him desperately.

“Cry for me, little girl.” He draws his mouth back just enough to ensure that you hear him — that you understand him.

“Da—” you choke out a sob, knowing that he won’t let you go until you obey.

“Cry for me, and I’ll fuck you like the good girl you are.”

Your drag your bottom lip between your teeth, throat closing around the pleading moans hanging in the warm air of the bedroom.

The tears finally fall, streaming and stormy, down your burning cheeks. Faster than before, the stress and anxiety of the day finally ripping free from the cavern of your chest.

Like he knew exactly what you needed, more so than even you.

They’re heaving sobs, now, a combination of intense relief and overstimulation, Joel’s heart beating hard and angry beneath you. He moans against your pussy, determined to undo you completely, lapping at your clit with reckless abandon.

And there you are again — your third orgasm ripping through you so overwhelmingly that your entire body goes slack, slick spilling down the corners of Joel’s mouth, matting in the length of his dark curls. You succumb to it completely, to him completely.

“There she is, little one. There’s my sweet baby girl.”

And you are — sweet and pliant, overly-sated in the most erotic of ways, and you know without seeing that Joel’s erect cock is absolutely weeping pre-cum.

He doesn’t need to exert much effort to flip you over, to settle you against the pillows, to pose your supple limbs exactly as he wants them. All you can do is watch him through glassy eyes, tear-stained cheeks flush and glistening, the smallest of watery smiles pulling at the corners of your mouth.

Ghosting a knuckle over your soaking center, he leans forward to pepper your jaw with warm kisses, something akin to adoration glowing in his amber irises.

“Okay, baby girl?”

You meet his scorching gaze, nodding demurely. Yes, daddy. Of course, daddy. Take what you need, daddy.

Slipping two fingers into your tight heat, Joel works you open with little resistance. It doesn’t matter how many years you’ve been together, taking him in his entirety is always a stretch. He crooks his fingers to meet that spongy spot inside you, soft strokes making your eyes roll back in your head. But it’s less urgent, less demanding.

The gentleness with which he touches you makes you feel warm all over, a soft roll of your veins under his hands.

But as gentle as he’s being now, you know he needs just as much as you did, pupils blow-out with lust, breathing shattered.

As soon as he draws his fingers out of you, you lift your hand to his length, running the tips of your fingers along the underside of his twitching cock. He swallows hard, rocking his hips forward, allowing you to grasp him in your palm. A strangled groan follows, always so sensitive to your touch.

“Put it in, daddy.”

He drops his head, curls flopping into his eyes, while he grips the base of his cock in his hand to ease the head, flushed a furious red, into your entrance.

You sigh contentedly, already feeling stretched and stuffed as your warmth swallows him inch by inch. No one has ever filled you like he does, has ever undone you like he does.

His hard length disappears inside of you, your walls gripping him impossibly tightly. This is your favorite part — the part where you adjust to his size, where the hint of a painful sting wanes into something utterly delicious. Something you can’t live without.

The thrusts are slow at first, his speed gradually increasing as your pussy pulses around him. Soon enough he’s pumping into you in an allegro tempo — mirroring the quick, bright pace of your heartbeat. You push into his thrusts, running your fingernails over the sticky flesh of his ribcage above you.

He’s so much — hips snapping against you, cock massaging your walls salaciously.

“F-fuck, baby girl,” he stutters, driving into you harder, licking a hot stripe of the column of your throat. He nestles there, nose pressed just below your ear, soft growls snapping from between his teeth. “Gonna c-cum.”

“Cum for me daddy,” you purr, thighs tightening around him, sucking him in deeper. He grinds down into you, pulling out only enough to slam back inside, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix.

One more buck and he’s done for, spilling thick inside of you, filling you completely. He snarls a string of dark moans and expletives, drawing his hips back just to push inside again, edging his cum deeper into you.

It’s perfect.

He collapses to the side of you, chest rising and falling raggedly. You automatically curl into his side, pleased when he wriggles his arm beneath you to stroke his fingers across the curve of your ass.

“What do you say, little girl?”

“Thank you, daddy.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 1 month

Text

The falling | joel miller x f!reader, 5k

Summary: It’s a weird feeling, the moment you realize you’ve lost everything. You're falling. It is never ending, the falling, even after the moment, that exact moment, is long gone. Or you catch Joel cheating on you. The world comes crushing down.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST. That's it. Ok, bye. But seriously, angst, a whole lot of angst, alternated POVs, husband!joel, wife!reader, cheater!joel, married couple, Joel fucks another f!person, reference to sexual activity but nothing too detailed, as I said before-ANGST, excessive use of the word fuck, Joel is kind of a dick on this one, as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Let me know how you feel about this lost little puppy, I know he sounds arrogant and awful, maybe I can rectify that, on a second part. If you're interested in a closure for these two, hit me in the comments! Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

| next

It’s a weird feeling, the moment you realize you’ve lost everything.

Everything dear and loved and cherished and so close to your heart. Your heart itself.

You still can’t decide if it’s liberating or torturing, to have that exact moment burned in your thoughts like a Polaroid.

But the pain is real. The pain is excruciating. It spreads like vines through your whole body, starting from the pit of your stomach in the form of a bile you try to hold back, moving to your heart’s agonizing clench, licking to the ends of your numb limbs which remain obstinately immobile. It feels almost like floating, but not exactly.

You’re falling; you’re still falling as if there’s no luxurious, expensive floor underneath your feet, holding you surprisingly still up. You wait for the landing, the crush, unmoving, unblinking, not quite breathing. It is never ending, the falling, even after the moment, that exact moment, is long gone.

Your designer’s tote bag, another unnecessarily extravagant gift from your husband, drops from your hands to the floor with a loud thud.

Joel’s thrusts stop immediately and he turns his head to look behind him, while he’s on his knees, balls deep in a female body on all fours. His eyes shut tightly in something you’re not sure how to interpret, dropping his head between his shoulder blades and his palms squeeze the hips of the female body he's holding, until his fingertips go white.

And you’re just standing there, on the threshold of your bedroom, taking in the scene. It’s weird how the mind works under stressful situations. Is the absurdity of the reality that keeps you calm? Is it your brain’s reaction to protect you from collapsing? Are you shutting down right now?

You feel your eyes unable to move around and at the same time you see clearer than ever, as if you’re looking through a wide-angle lens.

You notice all of the stripped clothes, which they don’t seem hastily taken off, the way they pool on various surfaces of the room; they took their time undressing each other.

You notice the crystal tumbler of a half finished liquid, Joel’s whiskey, on his side of the nightstand; they took their time having fun.

You notice the absence of a condom on Joel’s cock as he removes himself from the female hole he was buried deep, all splayed out for him and now you; they took their time before, it seems, there is an intimacy there. This is not a stranger, this is not a first time.

Joel is calm, collected even, as he stands to his full height, grabbing his pants from the floor next to the king sized bed and putting them on. Calculated, steady movements, he looks like he’s trying to stay in control of the situation, diminish it to something else. You pray he doesn’t go down that path.

You look behind him, the female body’s gathering itself into a ball, sitting on your bed now, hands hugging it’s knees, trying to protect its nudity. Your eyes roam her form until they settle on her face. Oh, you know her. She looks -hm, there’s a mosaic of emotions behind her eyes, which are surprisingly bold to look back at you. You see shock, you see fear, you see.. satisfaction?

“Darlin’” Joel’s approaching you, crossing the ridiculously big room, with a steady pace.

His chest is heaving from the effort to regulate his breathing, he’s sweaty, his muscles all bulged from the interrupted fucking, his curls -your curls, fuck, that hurts- damp. He’s so handsome in all his disheveled form. He looks like your Joel.

Imaginary flashes of her fingertips combing through his hair are passing through your mind and you feel your esophagus contracting, a sense of a burning hot liquid moving up to your mouth. You swallow it down.

He reaches to touch your arm, don’t you dare, is all you mutter lowly, still without moving a muscle as if you do, the world will come crushing down. It already did, didn’t you get the memo? Your voice feels foreign to your ears, your tongue feels rough like sandpaper. He obeys.

When does this falling end?

“Baby-”, he tries again, while he steps forward, a condescending tone to his voice, like he’s addressing a toddler.

“Don’t-”, you roll your eyes in your head, god, he smells so good, even with the sweat someone else poured out of his skin, he smells so fucking good. He smells like your Joel. “Don’t come any closer.”

“This-” he exhales heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, as if it’s an unnecessary effort to explain, as if you should understand; of all people, you should know, “this doesn’t mean anything-” his hand gesturing between him and the female body, “she doesn’t mean anything.” You should understand, baby, you should know.

And for the first time her eyes leave yours and land on the face of the deceiver. If this wasn’t happening to you right now, you would take pity on her pained expression. You almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

“Does she know that?” you ask him, your eyes never leaving her tangled form on your bed.

Joel snaps his head to her direction, narrowing his eyes in warning, “Yes, she does.”, his voice comes out strict and final, signaling there’s no room for doubt. He doesn’t sound like your Joel.

“I need you to leave.”, you breathe barely audible, your eyes still on her face; now she doesn’t know where to look, the rug pulled out from under her feet from the man she had inside her minutes ago.

His gaze is cold and indifferent, as if everything is her fault, looking still in her direction. She looks like a deer caught in the headlights, the empathetic part of your brain feels for her.

“Get your shit and get the fuck out, what are you waiting for?” he snaps at her.

“Not her, you.” you whisper, it’s impossible to speak louder, all of your energy powers your two standing feet.

He turns to look at you, shocked, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.

“Wh- what are you talking about, sweetheart?” he tries to reason with you, “We need to talk, to-”

“Joel-”, you try again and thank god he’s interrupting you, you don’t have the strength to negotiate right now. Let the dice roll. It’s all fucked, anyway.

“This is my home; I’m not leaving.” he simply states, shaking his head from side to side, staring at you expectantly.

“You’re right. This is your house.” you acknowledge, coming to a painful realization. “Everything is yours; you own everything, don’t you?”, you smile sadly, crouching down to collect you bag.

You turn on your heels and leave the residence formerly known and felt as home, behind you.

Alarm system disabled.

Joe’s hairs are rising on the nape of his neck, when he checks the alarm app notification on his phone, thinking you came back home.

It’s been an awful month without you, without being able to contact you. He knew where you were of course, he could not for the life of him leave that information escape him, but he didn’t pressure you with an unexpected visit, he knew better.

It’s been a month. That’s plenty of time. You took your time and now you’re ready to talk. You have to be, this can’t be the end of this relationship, this marriage.

He presses your number and hits call. Fuck, he’s still blocked. Maybe you forgot to unblock him, it’s ok, it doesn’t mean anything.

He checks the house’s cameras. Shit. That’s not you. What is she doing there? What the fuck is going on? Alright, he’s going back to the house.

He stands on his feet, right in the middle of a meeting with the board and just leaves them. There’s a distant muttering of where does he think he goes, what happened, what’s gotten into him, this is important for the upcoming deal, but he pays no mind to them.

He needs to talk to you.

“Yeah, I think I’ve got everything you need,” Maria facetimes you, showing around your closet via her camera. “I’m loading the suitcase to the car and I’m out of here.”

“Thank you Mar-”

“MARIA?” Joel’s voice travels through the space from the ground floor, up.

“Shit, shit, shit, what am I gonna do?” Maria whispers to you turning the call to voice only.

“Just take the suitcase and leave, it’s ok, I only got personal stuff if that’s what he’s worried about. Let him check if it comes to that.”, you try to calm her down.

“Ok, ok-” Maria grabs the handle of the suitcase and moves to leave the walk-in closet.

“Hey.” Joel comes through the door to the bedroom taking in the scene. He hasn’t set foot in this room for nearly a month now.

“Hey.” Maria sounds pissed on the line.

“What are you doing here? Where's Tommy?”, Joel’s face frowns in question. “Tommy's not my keeper, his my partner. My husband, not that you would know what that means, apparently.” Maria just shrugs and moves to pass him by.

“What are you doing, what’s going on here?” he insists, blocking her way.

“I’m just collecting som-”

“How is she? Is she ok?” his voice softening when he asks about you.

“Oh, please, Joel, how is she? Really?” Maria scoffs at him. “She doesn’t want to see you, Joel or hear from you, that’s how she is.”

“Yeah, I gathered that much, thank you.” he mocks back. “Is she on the phone, can I just talk to her?” he extends his arm to reach for the phone. “Over my dead and cold body.” Maria says, pressing the phone on her chest.

His eyes are raging storms, his nostrils flaring with quiet rage. He takes a deep breath “Can you please ask her if I can talk to her, just for five minutes?”

“Why don’t you call her, Joel?” Maria taunts him, emphasizing the pronunciation of his name.

Joel just stares back at her, unfazed. Maria doesn’t move a muscle, lifting an eyebrow quizzically. Well, she did move one muscle.

Joel sighs exasperatedly “She blocked my number.”

“I wonder why that is.” Maria twists the knife, “I guess you have your answer, then.”

“Christ-” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “just- just ask her, please.”

Maria lifts the phone to her ear, rolling her eyes in frustration in the process. “Hey, Joel’s here, he’s ask-”

“Yeah, I heard everything.” you interrupt her, “No, I don’t want to talk to him.” Maria is shaking her head negatively at him as you talk, to pass the message.

Joel’s face goes cold and emotionless. “Well, tell her if she wants her belongings, she needs to come and get them herself.”

It’s been five weeks now and you can’t keep living in your best friend’s and sister in law's clothes. You’re gonna have to go and grab your stuff yourself.

Because it wasn’t enough what you’ve been through, what you’ve heard until you reached that goddamned bedroom door, what you’ve witnessed when you’ve entered, now he’s making you go back there to humiliate you. As you’re checking your calendar for your work schedule to decide on a suitable day, it hits you. You have Joel’s calendar on your phone, too. You always do, it was the only way to have some time together between his visits to work sites and board meetings and bussiness trips and fucking-behind-your-back, apparently.

And then you remember that day where you both stole some time off and decided to spend it cuddling with each other on the couch, talking nonsense and laughing at silly things and hugging and kissing and fucking all night long.

A brainstorm of thoughts run through your head instantly. How could he do that to you? He looked so happy in your arms. Maybe he was right, maybe it was nothing, maybe you should understand, you of all people, you should know. Do you need to do an STD test? How careless could he be? Where there others? Did he ever love you? Do you want to know?

Does it really matter?

You focus again on that day. He’d told you about a big deal coming up, one of the biggest in his career, if not the biggest so far and how important it was to the future of the company.

You searched frantically through his calendar until you found the date of the final meeting, the date where they’d seal the deal. Because there is no way they weren’t. If Joel wanted it so badly, he’d find a way to make it happen.

And you knew your husband, ironic as is sounds now. He was focused to a fault. He wouldn’t even check his phone that day. He’d done it every time since you were together. History indicated that he probably had other reasons, too, for not checking his phone in a timely manner, but you wouldn’t dwell on that. Not right now. Because now you had your chance.

That date was your chance.

Alarm disabled.

Joel’s phone is vibrating momentarily, not that he noticed, it was silent and tacked away in his jacket pocket, the jacket itself hanging on the back of his chair.

Don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, he’s chanting in his mind, under all this calm and confident demeanor, he’s sweating inside.

This is it, this is it, this is it, he repeats like a mantra, watching his opposite CEO, Leo Marks, playing with the pen between his fingers. He’s inspecting the contract again and he’s so close, so close to what he wanted. The room is silent, the long table full of seated lawyers and consultants from both sides, holding their breaths in charged expectation.

Joel knows that Marks is going to sign. He knows it. He worked for it. He convinced him, he made his vision clear as day and he lured him in. This is it. He got this.

Then your face appears in his mind. No, not today, he can’t do this today. You will have to wait. Like you always have. Joel shakes his head slightly, as if to remove you from his thoughts. His fingers get itchy, he wishes he could just check on you. Yes, he just want to check on you.

Are you alright? Are you thinking about him? Do you miss him like he does? Do you stay wide awake at night replaying the same scene over and over until you feel physically ill? Do you know that he thinks about you? Did he show you at all that night? Maybe he should have appeared at your friend’s door out of the blue. Maybe you think he doesn’t care. All he was trying to do was give you space. Respect your boundaries. Let you work everything out.

Fuck.

He reaches for his phone. He doesn’t know why. He knows his number is still blocked. He checks every night, when he's too exhausted from the lack of sleep and prays he could listen to your voice, or the soft sound of your breath when you slept next to him. But he fishes it out of his jacket pocket, anyway and then he sees it.

38 minutes ago.

Alarm disabled.

Alarm disabled. Alarm disabled. Alarm disabled, the only thought repeated in his head. He immediately searches the cameras for you but no movement is recorded right now. Maybe you already left. His heart rate spikes, his temples feel the pressure of his blood pumping violently in his veins. Cold sweat pours out of his body.

He’s squeezing his eyes shut, mentally counting all the places without cameras inside the house. What if you are still in there and he just can’t see you?

Fuck.

Mark’s voice extract him from his thoughts, “Mr. Miller, everything looks in order as we agreed.”

Joel snaps his eyes back to him, slightly irritated, “Of course it does, your legal team already did a thorough check all these months to get us here today.”

“Yes, yes,” Marks laughs entertained, “I just wanted to look it over one more time, I mean, we really are going to…”

What if you’re still there? What if this is his chance? He could always try to reach you after the deal, convince you to hear him out. Yeah, he can do that. He doesn’t need to chase you down. He can wait a little bit longer, can’t he? He can have it all, right? He was the man that had it all.

A mail pops up on his phone, a compliment note from the management of one of both your favorite hotels in Europe, thanking you for choosing their establishments for your stay, once again. Shit. You’re fleeing the fucking country? Are you fucking serious?

“..Mr. Miller?” Marks insists.

“Hm?” his eyes are glued to the screen of his phone.

“I said, before we sign, I need you to walk me through it one more time.” he demands like a little child asking for its favorite bedtime story. “I mean, this is the project of my dreams. I need your reassurance that this is as important for you as it is for us, that it’ll be your only focus for the foreseeable future.” he looks at Joel expectantly.

His only focus.

For the foreseeable future.

Fuck.

“HONEY!”. Your blood runs cold in your veins to the sound of his baritone voice. Your hand freezes over the shelf with the t-shirts, not making a sound. You didn’t take that long, why is he here? Why isn’t he in his meeting?

Joel enters the bedroom but you’re not there. Fuck, you hear the curse running softly from his lips. You don’t move, you don’t blink, you don’t breathe.

He moves to leave and check elsewhere but then he stops. You hear soft steps and you see the door of the walk-in closet opening. His wide form blocks the light from the outside, his broad shoulders almost taking up all the space of the frame.

He looks disheveled, his baby blue shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned at the top, his hair a mess, like he kept combing his fingers through them. You don’t dare meet his eyes though. You keep your gaze as far as his chin goes, concentrating on the bare patch there. His sole presence electrifies you like he’s already touched you. Your whole body feels on fire and frozen simultaneously. God, you missed him.

“I was calling for you.”, he breathes out and you can feel his fear pulsing through his body. He’s scared you’re gonna run. That’s why he doesn’t leave his spot, blocking the door.

“I know.”

“Were you hiding from me?” his brows are furrowed in a seemingly pained expression from what your peripheral vision could help you understand.

“No, I just chose not to answer you.”, you lower your head, looking at your feet.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” you say hastily, but he’s waiting for a real answer. You breathe deeply, “It- it felt too domestic, you calling for me, me answering back, like how we were before.” He nods, biting his bottom lip. “What are you doing here, Joel?”

“In our house?” the edges of his lips are slightly turned up, his head tilting to one side.

“No, this is your house as you said yourself.”

“Darlin’, you know I didn’t mean it like that..” he sighs in regret, his head deepening in his shoulder blades in an effort to attract your gaze upwards.

“But you’re right.”

“I built it for you.” his voice soft, like it’s a secret mend to stay that way.

“Hm.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” his brows raise in genuine surprise.

“Nothing, forget it.”

“No, tell me.”

“You first.”

He looks perplexed, he forgot your question.

“What are you doing here, right now, Joel?”

“I got the alarm notification and.. it was the only way I could talk to you, honey..”

“But- your meeting-”

He searches your eyes, although you refuse to look at him, analysing your confused expression and it hits him. He smiles in understanding, nodding his head. “So, you chose today on purpose..”

You don’t respond, you keep looking everywhere but his eyes.

He laughs through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face. “Did you really think that I wouldn’t drop everything to come and see you?”

“I really did.”

He gasps in disbelief, almost offended.

“Baby, look at me, please; look at me..” he pleads with you softly. You close your eyes as if in fear you would obey, your chin trembling from the effort to remain calm.

“Baby, look at me. I want you to look at me, now.” he presses in a more authoritative way. He thought he could order you around? Break you?

“No.” you shake your head.

Joel calls you by your name but before he has a chance to spit another soft command-

“I SAID NO!” you open your eyes, targeting them to his chest, tears spilling uncontrollably now. You can see from your periphery the look of shock on his face, because you never yelled before. Ever.

“Why, sweetheart?”, he retreats back to his soft side.

“Because that’s exactly what you want. And you can’t always get what you want, Joel, not anymore.” You can’t hold back your tongue now.

“Jesus Christ,” you grit through your teeth, “what do you want from me, hm?” your eyes keep dancing around his face but never on his eyes. He looks dumbfounded, his lips part slightly but you don’t wait for an answer. “What else do you want? Is this some kind of ego thing? You expected me to shout and break things and hit you and tell you to leave her and come back to me? Because your ego is safe, Joel, if that’s what you worry about. I didn’t leave you, you did that first when you went behind my back. So, you walked out on me and not the other way around. Happy? Ready to go on with your life?” You’re grabbing the shelf where your hand previously rested so hard, trying to steady yourself.

For the first time Joel is speechless. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t find the words to defend himself, to convince you about his feelings, to soothe you at the very least. He begins to have a glimpse of how he appears in your eyes right now. How much damage he’s done, even before that night. How much ground he lost over time.

“Darlin', I just wa-” he begins softly, almost like walking on eggshells, but your body visibly tenses, you jaw shuts tight, your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Stop, just stop! Stop saying what you want! Stop making this about you! Don’t you see? You keep asking me for what you want! Have you stopped for a second, just a second, to think what I want? What I need? I don’t- I don’t recognize you anymore.”

“I-” he closes his eyes in distress, “I love you.” His last retreat. He’s trying anything that could help him. He doesn’t get it. He can’t. He’s not capable. But he used to be. He was the most empathetic person you knew. What the fuck happened?

Your eyes snap though the open closet door at his admision and on to the perfectly made bed.

His gaze follows yours behind his back and shakes his head once more in regret.

“It really didn’t mean-”

“Joel-” you warn him, “have some self respect and don’t say what I think you’re about to say. At least have the guts to admit exactly what you did, I’d appreciate it more.”

He exhales heavily, you’re not giving him an opening to fix this. You’re hanging onto every word he mutters. Not a single one of them is left unparsed and he's not used to that. He knows that if he does not control his anger right now, it's game over.

Heavy silence is hanging between you, each one lost on their thoughts.

“Do you know when you really lost me, Joel?”, you ask him eventually.

Half an hour ago he would swear he had all the answers, but now? Now he sees he’s in the deep, so he stays quiet, searching your eyes that still won't reach his, for answers.

“You lost me when you humiliated her in front of me.”

His face goes white, shocked, he can’t believe his ears. His mouth opens and closes but he makes no sound, how on earth does he respond to that?

“You still don’t get it, do you?”, you pinch the bridge of your nose exasperatedly. “You valued her enough to endanger our wedding, you valued her enough to bring her to our own house, to our bed, Joel; you valued her enough to fuck her raw, to let her know that you were unhappy with me, before I had a chance to realize it myself-”, Joel interrupts you almost panicked “I’m not un-” and for the first time your eyes pierce his in such an anguish that the words die in his throat. “-and then you just diminished her like she was nothing, just to prove a point to me. While she was naked, vulnerable on our bed. And trust me, this is not me defending her, she is as responsible for this as you, but you’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.”

Now he’s the one averting his eyes from you, looking down on his overpriced shoes, his demeanor defeated, this is not the Joel you know anymore.

“And what was the point, Joel? Hm? What? That she means nothing? Then why were you with her? Why did you choose her? Why did you spend your precious time on nothing, while I had to make an appointment to see you? That’s what you did with me, too? I mean nothing, too? Just a warm hole to fuck when convenient?” he snaps his head back to you, shaking it in denial frantically, his eyes blown wide and red from all the emotional stress you push onto him.

“But I guess I got my answer about a month ago, hm?” It’s one of those moments that epiphanies hit you as you speak uncontrollably, you just can’t stop your mind from running wild, your mouth from spilling bile, your heart from pounding so hard in your chest, your ears start to ring, your grasp on the shelf tightening even more for balance.

“And that tells me a lot about who you really are. It’s not just about the fucking, Joel, Jesus-, -for the brilliant man I know you to be, you’re stumbling through your blindest moment.”, you shake your head in disappointment, tears still running freely down your face, licking your jawline and falling like a waterfall to the carpeted floor. You feel so done, you find it pointless to explain any further.

“I- I don’t know you, Joel, I don’t know who you are anymore. Maybe I never did,” you conclude, “maybe you’re right,” you slowly nod to yourself, “and everything is my fault after all.” you whisper, not sure if you want him to hear that part.

He did. “I never said that it was your fault, baby. When did I ever say that?” his face is contorted in pain, “None of this is your fault, none of it, you hear me?” he wants so desperately to cross the fucking room and hold you tight, crush all your pain and insecurities and self hatred under an asphyxiating hug. He also knows that he won't make even two steps before you flee, or step back from him and he can’t for the life of him witness that. Because that’s how much he needs you. He prefers you standing there, where he can see you, where he can have you, even if you wither and die under the enormous trauma he’s putting you through.

“So stupid.. I was- I am so stupid..” you’re repeating to yourself almost deliriously, rubbing your fingers on your forehead.

“This isn’t you, sweetheart, you don’t talk like that, don’t- don’t do that to yourself.” Joel tries to bring you back.

“But this is you, isn’t it, Joel? The real you?” you bite back. “This isn’t me, really? How do you like the new me, Joel? Do you take pride on your creation?” you laugh bitterly at him. “Yeah, how you’d always call me? Polite little thing? Sweetheart?” you’re infuriated now, a rise fighting to explode through you. “How does it feel, Joel? To know you’re responsible for changing someone to their core? To know you had that much power over them?”

Joel’s shaking his head once again in desperation, hot tears spilling from his eyes, god, had he ever cried before? this is not a battle he can win, he sees that now. The damage is too great. What on earth was he thinking?

“Please, please honey, can we just take a breather, sit down and talk about everything?” he pleads with you, a last thread of hope shinning in his red rimmed eyes.

“Take a breather..” you mutter through your teeth, “you mean the breather you took while you were fucking someone else instead of talking to me?”, Joel shuts his eyes in defeat, there’s nothing he can say anymore. “I think you got it backwards, Joel.”

You take a steadying breath and command your legs internally to hold on a little while longer and move forward; clothes, suitcase, life left behind.

“Don’t contact me again, unless is via your legal team.” is the last bullet that hits Joel’s chest, right through his broken heart.

| next

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valerinaswriting · 1 year

Text

a man like him.

synopsis: joel overhears young survivors question his ability to satisfy y/n, so he gives them many reasons to never question his abilities again.

pairing: joel miller x female reader

warnings: established relationship, possessive!joel, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s), oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, exhibitionism, swearing, choking, multiple orgasms.

joel never used to be the possessive type until you landed in his grasp. although he knew nobody could ever steal you from him, it was a quiet fear of his. that you’d wake up one day and wonder what the hell you’re doing with such an old man. but no matter how many times you’d reassure him, there was always something that threw him back into the crippling mindset.

like today. he overheard a conversation from two boys around your age that made his blood boil.

“look at her, how the hell did that old prick manage to pull her?” the young man says to his friend, shaking his head in what appeared to be disbelief as he watched you speak to one of the many friends you’d made at the boston QZ.

“i know, i bet he doesn’t even fuck her right. what old guy even knows how to fuck? especially when it comes to someone young like her,” before the two could say anything else, you spotted joel standing behind the two and a delicate smile graced your face. the boys then turned around, finally noticing joel standing there. they went pale in the face as you approached. knowing that he’d definitely heard every word they said based off the angry look joel was giving them. he could truly be terrifying when he wanted to be. you’d seen that side of him many times, but never aimed at you of course. he had killed many people. you don’t know how many, he tells you not to ask.

you stood on your tiptoes as you pressed your lips to his cheek, not realizing his displeased expression until you’d moved your head back.

he was still staring at them.

“joel, is everything ok?” you asked, tone worried as you followed his gaze and set your eyes on the two men you hadn’t even noticed before. he didn’t respond, his large hand wrapped around your arm as he led you away from the area. not questioning a single thing as it was crystal clear something there was bothering him a significant amount.

once the two of you had made it back to the apartment, you turned to look at him once he’d closed the door.

“are you mad because they were looking at me? because you know i’d never even think to-” you attempted to explain.

“i know you wouldn’t.” joel interrupted, and your gaze softened.

“so what’s wrong?” you ask once again, approaching him slowly while looking into his eyes. he eventually met your eyes after a moment.

“nothing that you need to worry about, doll.” he reassured, resting his forehead against yours.

“alright,” you say, the same soft smile reappearing on your face. “i’m just gonna freshen up a little, ok?” you add, pressing a swift kiss to his lips before approaching the bathroom. joel sat down on his couch, hands rubbing his face as he tried to forget about what he’d heard. which was almost impossible considering he heard those exact voices outside his front door.

the anger began to rise once again as he got up from the couch and paced towards the door, opening it quickly and immediately spotting the same smug faces he was mentally murdering moments ago.

they both gulped, eyes wide as they stood in front of the front door a couple of meters from his. they quickly entered the apartment to avoid confrontation. joel stood there for a moment, wondering what the fuck they were doing in the apartment right next to his. before he could do anything else, your voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“was someone at the door?” you ask, he turned his head to face you. looking at you adorned in one of his shirts. quietly admiring the way your body drowned in it.

“two boys just went into the apartment next door. was just wonderin what all the noise was.”

“the ones that you were giving the death stare to earlier?” you ask, a cheeky smile on your face. “i overheard them saying somethin about looking for a new place to stay not that long ago. i guess they found one.” you say, shrugging your shoulders as you stared at your boyfriend. he shook his head, trying to hide his displeasure to the information he’d just heard. “are ya gonna tell me why that bothers you or?”

“it doesn’t bother me,” he lies, their words repeating in his head again as he approaches and places his big hands on your waist. kissing your lips delicately. “just a little stressed i think,” he says as he places his mouth to your neck, the feeling of his rough stubble stabbing your skin in the most delicious way. you whined softly.

and that’s when he got the idea. the idea that would prove to those stupid boys just how good he fucks you. how stupid they were to underestimate his abilities and care when it came to your pleasure. he smirked against you, lips abusing your skin and his hot tongue trailing over your sensitive spots. his hands found your ass, squeezing your cheeks sadistically which caused a sudden gasp to escape your throat. normally, joel would place his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet in case people were around, the walls were paper thin, but this time he didn’t. you didn’t question it. you never questioned him.

“that’s it, let me hear your pretty sounds,” he says as he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bed.

he dropped you onto the mattress and hovered his frame over yours. his lips found yours once again, and you whined as his tongue slipped between yours. he knows how vocal you can be. even with his hand over your mouth or your head forcefully buried into the pillow, he can hear you crystal clear. he knew anyone nearby would be able to hear if he didn’t hush you, and that’s exactly what he wanted. for those stupid little pricks to hear how good he makes you feel. over and over.

his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the soft skin. you whined louder this time. you were so goddamn submissive under his touch, it drove him crazy.

he raised his stolen t-shirt up your body, exposing your torso as he lowered his head. trailing kisses all over your soft skin. you were addicted to the feeling of his stubble against you, he’d barely done anything and you were already a whimpering mess. his head trailed lower and lower. licking the skin above your panty line as he hooks his fingers into the edges of the fabric, effortlessly peeling them down your legs and throwing them off to the side.

he began peppering kisses to your inner thighs, the feeling his hot breath against your dripping cunt driving you wild.

“joel…” you whimpered loudly, legs trembling in suspense of the act that he was about to commit. you were expecting him to respond. something like “be patient” or “good girls know how to wait” but he didn’t, he latched his lips onto your clit, causing your back to arch off the bed. your hand flew to your mouth, biting down on the side to muffle your moans. but joel stopped.

“no, baby girl. let me hear you,” you nodded your head, staring down at him between your legs. noticing the glistening shine of your wetness on his chin under the dull lighting.

“good girl,” he said before diving back in. aggressively eating you out as he’s done many times before. tongue exploring every inch of your sex. your moans were quick to fill the room. your hands flew down to grasp at his salt and pepper colored hair, spreading your legs wider to give him as much access to you as possible.

“j-joel, i’m about to… i can feel it-” you whine breathlessly as your orgasm washed your words away. the sensation hitting you fast and hard as you convulse on the bed beneath him. loud whiny moans filling the room as you rode out your high.

he didn’t halt until your legs began twitching, licking up all of the cum you provided for him in exchange for the orgasm. he climbed back up your body slowly, leaving sloppy kisses up your stomach along the way.

he was proud of himself, knowing how good he could make you feel with little to no effort. enamored by the way your body reacted to his touches. he knew the boys would’ve heard everything he’d just done, but of course, he wasn’t satisfied just yet.

his hand wrapped it’s way back around your throat once his face aligned with yours, his stumble damp with your cum.

“all wet,” you said, smiling as your hand raised to his face. tracing along the wet area of his face. “wanna make somethin else wet too,” you added, moving the same hand between your bodies and palming his hardened cock over his jeans.

“where did you ever learn to be such a dirty girl?” he grunted, a slight smile on his face as he moved your hand and pinned it beside your head.

“we both know the answer to that,” you bit your lip as his grip tightened around your wrist, looking up at him through squinted eyes. he moved back to remove his shirt, licking your lips as he did so. you followed his steps and removed your own. clothes thrown carelessly to the floor.

he unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans and underwear down, not bothering to completely remove the articles of clothing. he was getting impatient. he hovered over you once again, his large hands separating your thighs as far as they could go and lined himself up with your dripping entrance. he wasted no time, thrusting forward and impaling you with his cock with no warning. you screamed, hands flying to grasp his shoulders as he quickly set a brutal pace. your back arched off the mattress, pressing firmly against joels as he pounded into you.

“oh, f-fuck. joel!” you moaned, the wood of the bed frame clunking against the wall with each of his intense thrusts. he grunts into your ear sadistically, fingers leaving crescent shapes on your thigh as they dig into your skin.

“wanna feel you cumming around me, baby. think you can do that for me?” he asks, you nodded your head. tears dripping down your cheeks as the pleasure became too much for your body to cope with.

it didn’t take long for another orgasm to pulse through your body, legs trembling around joels torso as you chant his name. before you could process anything else, he’d flipped you onto your stomach. shoving his cock deep inside you once more as he held your hips to him. despite being extremely sensitive from your previous orgasms, you still craved more of him. your loud moans echoing off the walls as he took you from behind. you intentionally clenched your walls around him to coax an orgasm out of him. craving the feeling of his cum flooding into you.

you felt another orgasm approach as his thrusts became sloppy, indicating that he was also moments away from finishing.

“joel!” you moan, clutching the bedsheets below as the two of you came together. joel eventually stopped once your highs had subsided. he tiredly flipped you onto your back, tracing his rough fingers along your damp cheek.

“y’think anyone heard us?” you ask, voice breathy as your tired body rests comfortably beneath him.

“hard for ‘em not to,” he replies, tracing his finger along your bottom lip before placing a soft kiss there.

and it was safe to say they’d definitely heard based on the looks they were giving the two of you the following morning. joel smiled proudly, hand resting on your waist as the two of you walked past them, knowing he’d never have them questioning his abilities to pleasure his girl again.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfic #joel miller fic

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thot-of-khonshu · 14 days

Text

Friendship Defined (Joel Miller x f! reader)

Summary: You and Joel have been friends with benefits for months. The blurred lines have you questioning what exactly makes a friend just a friend?

Warnings: 18+. MDNI. Mentions of sex (oral, p in v), mention of periods, fwb! Joel, non outbreak AU, implied age gap, fluff

Word Count:~800

Author’s Note: Thank you to the lovely @swiftiscruff ( @swiftispunk & @joelscruff ) for coming up with this idea.

This one shot is dedicated to all of you.

I’ve been in this fandom for a few years now and as much as I’ve wanted to I still have trouble putting myself out there to make friends in the fandom. I usually just put out my stories and go about my day.

Well I want that to change!

This was such a beautiful idea and such a great reminder of how wonderful fandom can be. To be able to connect with so many talented people is such a gift and I want to try to get to know you guys more. This is my official post to put myself out there - so if anyone wants to come into my asks or DMs or message me on Discord please do!! I wanna be your friend lol!!

To celebrate this momentous weekend of friendship and fandom, I’ve created a Joel one shot all about friendship. With benefits lol. Enjoy!!

Joel would always introduce you as his friend.

Friend being a blanket term but it did seem to fit into your large, intricate clusterfuck of whatever you were.

Sure, in the literal sense you were friends. Ever since you met Joel through his little brother Tommy, a group of you would go out every Friday to the same bar for a beer and darts.

Then when Tommy met Maria and everyone else in your group started to couple up, you had more time to spend together.

It started off with friendly dart competitions that lasted a bit too long. Shots that would start to last until closing time. A shared Uber to one house because “it’ll save money”.

Cut to Joel eating you out on your kitchen counter. And getting fucked in the shower that next morning. And then suddenly several times a week you’re trying to plan strategic ways on how to exit at different times so it didn’t seem suspicious. It didn’t matter, though. Tommy knew and would take the moment Joel left to fuck with him about it.

So if everyone else knew, why didn’t either of you know what this was? You didn’t want to bring it up because the idea of him getting freaked out and ending things made your chest tight.

You were so in your head about this arrangement that one night after leaving Joel’s house after watching and the Fast and the Furious and then having the ride of your life on his dick afterwards, you came home and immediately opened your laptop to do some soul and site searching.

Is this still technically a friendship at least according to Merriam-Webster terms?

friendship

noun. friend· ship ˈfren(d)-ˌship

1: the state of being friends

….Google search number two:

friend

noun. ˈfrend

plural friends

1: one attached to another by affection or esteem

There are several other definitions for the word friend.

2: One who is not hostile.

Joel was never hostile with you. He was adorably patient when you took too long to decide what you wanted when you went out to dinner. He never hesitated to say sure when you wanted to try what was on his plate.

The hardest he’s ever pressed onto you was when your ex boyfriend showed up at the bar one night. Once he made a beeline to talk to you, Joel’s massive hand snaked around your waist to pull you into him so he could know any talk with you tonight was off limits. You were off limits.

The idea of Joel being so possessive made you so wet that you blew him in the alley that night.

3: one that favors or promotes something (such as a charity)

It takes you back to one of the first times you had slept with him. You were sprawled across his bed as he peeled your leggings from your body. You spread open for him as he pushed your thong aside to fit his thick finger into your hole.

He curved his finger into you and came closer, feeling his breath on your clit.

Instinctively you blurted out, “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”

Joel looked up at you with a serious expression.

“None of my other exes really liked to do this.”

Without hesitation, Joel settled between your thighs again.

“Well then I guess I'm going to be your new favorite.” And with that, he slid his finger back inside you, this time with more intent. You let out a moan as he teased your clit with his finger, reminding you of why he was indeed your favorite.

4: a favored companion

You think about the late nights picking up french fries at McDonalds when you convince Joel out of the house past his bedtime on Saturday nights. You remember the nights you had your period and he still wanted you to come over so he could cook you dinner; your cramps dulling as he soothed you on the couch.

You think of how nice it is to just be with him. Laying naked and vulnerable, hearing things he hasn’t even told Tommy.

You go back to Google.

“What is the definition of a romantic relationship?” you type, the clacking of your keys sounding louder than ever.

Before you can press enter, your phone rings loudly and startles you. It’s Joel. You pick up.

“Hey. Just checkin’ in.” He says. “You left kinda quick so I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Yeah.” You feel your heart swell inside your chest. You can’t stop grinning. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Oh…” You can see the crease form in his forehead when saying that. “You didn’t have to go or nothin’, I just didn’t know if you were sick.”

“You’re my best friend.” You tell him, unaffected at how random that must seem for Joel to hear. “You know that, right?”

But instead of being suspicious, Joel's voice softens. You’ve only heard this voice in passing, with Sarah on the other end.

“Yeah, I know. You’re my best friend too.”

You didn't realize how much that simple affirmation meant to you until you heard it.

There was a pause on the other end, a moment of shared unspoken understanding, a thick air of tension and want, and then you both spoke at once.

"Would you like to come back over?"

"Hey, I was just about to ask if I could come back over," you blurted out, suddenly feeling a little bold. “Maybe spend the night?”

The two of you laughed together; you closed your eyes and envisioned the crinkle in his eyes. His soft brown eyes are on you as he shakes his head in disbelief. What the hell are you still doing at home?

“I wouldn’t want anything more.”

That’s what friends are for, right?

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creedslove · 2 days

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Mari!!! I love your writing!!!

Do you think you could write a little jealous Dave York, maybe he has gotten with reader who is a little younger and he's a bit insecure, so he follows her or sees a guy flirting with her and he gets super jealous or protective. But in the end she's like I only want you and she let's him cum in her. 🫣

Sorry I just love Dave York I can't help it ❤️

Dave York x f!reader

A/N: bestie, who doesn't love Dave? He's literally precious, I love him with all my heart, and so do all of us!!! 💞❤️

• okay, let's just establish something here: Dave is a jealous type, okay? No arguments about it, he can be a prince and sexy and treat you like a queen, but he is NOT gonna like to see any guy anywhere around you, he's gonna be pissed off and territorial

• you are definitely the best thing he has in life, he will never risk you having an interest in anyone else but him, he just gets angry and scared to even consider that, because it would break his heart and he would feel so betrayed

• luckily, just as he's obsessed with you, you're also obsessed with him, and you both are mature enough not to play stupid games or mess around with each other's feelings: you both love and respect each other and you don't flirt with other people for fun or whatever reason

• still, other people might try their chance, since you two are a very attractive couple: women all have their eyes on Dave and guys can't help but keep their eyes on you at times, and that's when our hitman gets bothered

• Dave isn't clueless, he knows he's a successful, charming and handsome man with a very attractive position at work but he's also aware you are younger than him, being his second marriage and already burnt by his ex wife, it's made him suspicious, because sometimes it's hard for him to see that good things can happen to him and you are one of them

• overall, underneath all of his hitman threatening persona, lies a rather insecure man who thinks you are way out of his league and that at any minute you're gonna snap from it and finally find someone you should really be with instead of him

• so when he has a break over the week, he decides it would be a great idea to call you up and meet you for lunch, just something quick: going to your favorite bakery for some sandwiches and a slice of cake; it was the kind of date you two didn't plan in advance but you loved it nonetheless, as it was so simple and romantic

• you felt so excited to meet your handsome Dave, you decided to look really nice for him, arriving a little before he did as he was still leaving the office, you picked a nice table and took a look at the menu, checking up your options when you felt glares at you

• you didn't know that man, he looked alright you guessed, he wasn't ugly, but he wasn't Dave's level of handsome either. He was wearing formal clothes which showed it was also his lunch break and once he captured your attention, he smirked and greeted you

• you politely greeted him back, wanting the interaction to end once for all, you weren't interested in him, simple as that, but the guy figured that if he insisted, things would be successful somehow, so he approached your table at the same time Dave got off the car and saw it from outside that unknown man making small talk

• Dave's body heated up at the same time he felt himself going cold and a bitter taste of jealousy flooded his mouth: he hated seeing you talking to him. He didn't know who that guy was but he definitely didn't want him around you, when you two were supposed to be having your lunch date, he didn't want to see you talking to a man who was visibly younger and fitter than Dave, whereas your hitman was going a little a gray and his belly was rounding up a little

• he feels his heart sinking at the same time he approaches the table, he wants to get there immediately and break apart whatever contact is going on, but hearing your voice brings Dave back to reality:

"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested, I'm waiting for my boyfriend, he's just arrived"

• you told the guy and got up, smiling and walking towards Dave, kissing his lips and hugging him. Your hitman simply wrapped his arm around your body and kissed your lips, giving the guy a rough stare

"is there anything wrong in here?"

• the man just shook his head and excused himself, apologizing and trying to hide how nervous he got once he "accidentally" spotted Dave's gun in his suit jacket. You didn't see when he flashed it at your admirer but you couldn't care less, you were just glad to see your handsome hitman there ❤️

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x y/n #dave york fanfiction #dave york fanfic #dave york headcanon #dave york headcanons

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notjustjavierpena · 4 months

Text

Panties

A/N: Well look who are back. I didn’t think dbf!joel still existed in my brain but it seems that he is actually thriving. A little treat for you all while I polish some hubby stuff. This one absolutely goes out to @sugadolly 💖💅🫶

Summary: You show off your cute little underwear. Joel wants to fuck you but you want to try something else.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, dbf!joel, age gap, daddy kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, reader is a good little girl, outside sex (idk what is to call it), clit stim, overstim, reader is cockdrunk af, they’re actually very much in love for real, cum!!!!

Word count: 2.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52857010

Panties

“Lemme see them,” Joel says with a gentle tone as he admires you only in your jeans. He is hovering above you, kisses your lips a few times, and cups your tits as he slips his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment.

You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling his chest against your breasts as you embrace each other. You giggle softly, “They’re silly, Daddy.”

“Never thought in a million years that my baby would be silly,” he says with obvious sarcasm, nudging your nose with his own, “Show Daddy your pretty little panties. I’m gonna see ‘em eventually.”

You remove yourself from him to step back. You roll your eyes, and he raises a brow but then you follow through.

“Fine,” you tut as you lie down on his bed. His eyes lock on your buttoned jeans, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes deeply with anticipation hanging in the air.

You undo your jeans and pull down the zipper, wiggling your hips as you pull the denim down over them, and into view comes your pink cotton briefs. They’re cute, not silly, but you already know this, sporting a little bow on the front and a pattern of chibi-style cats.

“Well?” You kick off your jeans, throwing them onto the floor.

Joel kneels on the bed, admiring them thoroughly, “Pussy panties?”

You snort, covering your mouth and nose as you do, “Shut up.”

“Am I wrong, baby?” He crawls closer to you, lifts your legs up to bend them, and spreads them until his thighs hit the back of yours. He reaches up to peel his shirt off and throws it into your arms so you can hug it close and get drunk on his scent.

“No,” you say as you contemplate crawling into the piece of clothing that he has given you. God, you want him everywhere on you. That masculine smell has you wet in moments.

“Makes ya look real pretty, lovebug,” he compliments, just about to peel the underwear off of you. He stops himself as you scrunch your nose up at the new pet name.

Joel laughs heartily, “Don’t like it?”

“Say it again,” you grin up at him.

“Love. Bug,” he repeats, yanks one of your legs at a time over his hips.

“Hmm,” you tap your chin, “Maybe you should call me it as I come, just to make me associate it with something nice.”

“Cheeky,” he says as he pulls down his own underwear. They are in no way as thrilling as yours; black briefs that can barely contain his hard cock and with a little logo on the waistband. He settles them around his thighs, and whilst he does, you reach down to pull your colorful panties to the side.

“Joel?” You say his name. He makes a movement as if his ears have perked up at hearing his actual name.

“What is it?” He asks, rubbing your legs soothingly. His eyes are locked on your cunt.

“When— when you’re,” you trail off, suddenly shy, “Uh, when you…”

“Yes?” He drags the word out, looks up.

“I want you to come on them,” your heart beats in your chest and ears but out of the corner of your eyes, you spot Joel’s cock twitching in the air upon hearing those words.

“Was that so hard to ask for?” He digs his thumbs into your thighs, causing you to squirm underneath him, “You just lie back and let Daddy treat ya right.”

You wait in anticipation. And then, oh.

Ohh.

“Ah,” you mewl, looking down between you to see what he is doing. The thick head of his cock lays heavily against your clit, and when you tell him how good it feels, he holds the base of his shaft and slaps the tip against the small nub a few times.

You shudder, clenching around nothing and flexing your thighs as you shift a little. Joel’s cock hangs between his legs again, and his hands slide down to rest on your hips, thumbs reaching inwards to spread you open and watch your pulsing cunt.

“You want me to make you feel good, baby? Make you come so hard that your little clit won’t stop twitchin’ until you get all teary-eyed?” He reaches for your clit to circle it with the pad of his thumb, and you can feel slick drip down between your ass cheeks. You moan helplessly and nod repeatedly, already heaving for breath, and Joel beams with pride, “Already cockdrunk? My my. I haven’t even fucked ya yet.”

“I don’t want you to f— I don’t want that,” you say suddenly, surprising even yourself. You reach down for Joel’s cock, pulling it against your cunt but not dipping the head into you. Instead, you rub him against your clit, “This, Daddy, I want to come like this.”

“I can make that happen,” he reassures, batting your hand away to replace it and grabbing at the base of his cock himself. He resumes what you were doing, dipping the head down to catch some of your wetness before adding pressure to your clit. He slides back and forth a few times, “Like that?”

“Mhm,” you hum softly, furrowing your brow in concentration. You hold still to let him rub his whole length through your folds until he is sticky with your arousal. His left hand is still grabbing your hip, and he uses it for leverage as he leans a little weight into you.

When he grows impatient after a few minutes of you crying quietly for him, he tries to enter you. You catch his wrist and shake your head, “No! No… you promised.”

“I did no such thing,” he clicks his tongue at you.

You pout up at him, “But…”

“Oh, don’t make that face,” he groans, “You know I can’t do anythin’ when you make that face.”

“Please,” you beg, “I’ll come so hard for you.”

“Yeah?” He smiles down at you.

“Yeah,” you blink your eyes prettily, “This feels so good. I’ll cream all over your cock, Daddy.”

“Now how can I say no to that?” He moves a little before guiding his cockhead back to where you want it. He rubs the blunt head in circles over your clit for a moment, slaps it against the sensitive spot too, until you can hear the squelching sound of your wetness coating you. It makes him glide over your cunt easier.

You curl your toes and bite your lip as you look down at what he is doing, “Ahh… Keep going.”

He does, building up a rhythm that has you whining pathetically. This shouldn’t be that intense but it is, making your pussy flutter and seek out more.

“Let me try something,” you say, and he stops as you reach down, “One second.”

With both hands, you take hold of the seam of the leg of your underwear, holding tightly at the very top of it and the very bottom. You yank it down to sit tightly over the girth of Joel’s cock, essentially trapping it underneath your panties so it drags along the shaft with each of his thrusts. He sits so tightly against you now.

“Try now,” you don’t even have to say please for Joel to know you are begging.

“Jesus Christ,” he growls at the new sensation, spurred on to make himself feel it even more. He fucks himself against you with a sudden quickened breath.

The bed starts shaking. You start trembling.

You’re not able to take your eyes off of your sinful act, chewing on your bottom lip as he works his cock back and forth over and over again underneath the seam of your panties.

“Please,” your sound is weak, “Fuck!”

“Careful with that,” he scolds, “Eyes on me.”

You quickly look up at his face, barely able to focus with how much he shakes your whole frame with every push of his lower body.

“Say sorry,” he commands, referring to your use of a swear word. He doesn’t relent one bit, rolling his hips again and again.

“S-sorry,” you apologize, too focused on how your orgasm is already approaching, “Please.”

“Hold on,” he slows down, and you nearly sob with how close you are, but he only does it to remove his shirt and uncover your chest again. Then he goes back to his frantic thrusts, eyes fixated on the way that your tits bounce with every push of his hips.

“‘M close, Daddy,” you hiccup, feeling your heartbeat in all parts of your body. You throw your head back and groan loudly at the head of the bed, “I’m so close.”

If you weren’t holding onto your underwear, you would be clutching the bed frame so hard that your knuckles were white. Instead, the fabric is pulled so taut by your fingers that it hurts when it digs into your skin. You probably don’t have to do it so roughly but the pleasure racking up your spine makes you need it.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” he encourages with ragged breathing. Confident that you won’t let go as you orgasm, he lets go of himself and grabs both of your hips. He hoists you up a little, leans forward a little further, and then drives his hips back and forth, cockhead sliding over your clit repeatedly.

“I’m gonna— Oh my God, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,” you say it like you’re almost in a panic, almost too overwhelmed to embrace the intensity you’re about to experience. You want to push him away and pull him in at the same time but he holds you so roughly in place that you just have to take it. Your eyes find his as you let it happen, “I’m coming! Daddy, oh f— I’m coming!”

“Yeah? My love bug’s coming?” He nods as encouragement, “Come for me, darlin’ baby.”

And my God, you do. You can feel your whole pelvic floor erupt into beautiful spasms of pleasure, your clit pulsing so fast and strongly that you are sure that Joel can feel it against his dick. You thank God that he is holding onto you because you are twitching and moving involuntarily as he continues his sweet torment, and tears stream down your face.

“That’s it, baby doll, you just cry all ya want,” Joel manages to coo between his own moans. You sob as your orgasm peaks, even more when you slip into a state of oversensitivity. Joel doesn’t relent, “Oh, baby. I know, baby, I know.”

It isn’t until your panties start to tear that he draws back, precome beading at the slit of his cock from how turned on he is. He is smeared with your arousal too, pearly white, and he seems to have put all the strength he has into holding back so you don’t pass out.

You shiver, trying to make sense of why your body chose to make you come so hard from a simple clit orgasm. The sweat on your body suddenly feels cold, and you reach for him until he leans down and kisses your lips. You whimper into his mouth. He wipes away a few tears.

“You okay?” He asks softly, pulling back slightly to look you in the eyes as you reply.

“Yes, sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize,” he tuts, “You were gorgeous. God, I am so crazy about you.”

“Now you,” you insist, looking down between the two of you to see the red tip of his weeping cock, “You promised.”

“That I did,” he draws back until he is on his knees again. He grabs the base of his dick, strokes it a few times, and then lays it against the crotch of your underwear.

Joel rubs the head fast against the soft fabric. He holds onto your thighs, neck muscles straining as he seeks out his own pleasure. You watch him whilst delirious with post-orgasmic bliss, occasionally whimpering when he unintentionally slides over your swollen clit.

A moment later, after one of your particularly high whines, he comes with a short breath of relief. He stains the fabric, lays his cock heavy against the front of the underwear, and pulses until he has no more to give. It’s intense to see him like this, and you find yourself grabbing his wrist to keep him in the moment with you.

“Christ, sweetheart,” he pants. He slumps a little.

“I thought it was love bug,” you say with irresistible charm.

“Don’t make me tell you to lick ‘em clean, young lady,” he smirks, already crawling forward to lay down on top of you. He crushes you so heavenly with his weight, pretending-biting your cheek and causing you to snicker, “Are we clear?”

You hold him close, relishing in everything that he is, “We’re clear. I’ll behave. Somewhat.”

“Somewhat?” He nuzzles into your neck and presses a kiss.

“Well, I don’t think I’m quite satisfied,” you say dramatically.

Joel pulls back to glare at you, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I need you inside me too,” you pout even more dramatically, “Pussy feels so lonely, Daddy. Needs something.”

“Well, we can’t starve this insatiable pussy, can we?” Joel catches on quickly, and soon, he has you screaming on three of his fingers.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

#pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #my writing #the last of us #joel x you #dbf!joel

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softiepedrito · 3 months

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never arguing with a man with a curly hair and big brown eyes whatever you say beautiful 😌

#pedro pascal #pascalispunk #pedrito #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x you #he's so babygirl #.#my baby #big brown eyes

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coffeeshades · 1 year

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credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: angst..? cussing, age gap, smut, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: enjoy and please let me know if you'd like a part two! i'm already writing it lol but i'd like to know anyways <3

here’s part two!

You’d always been good friends, taking to each other without much of a second thought after Oscar had introduced you two just in passing a few years ago—eight years ago, to be exact—at some party at his house.

New York, New York

September 4th, 2015

You were outside in the backyard, dressed far more casually than the occasion called for. It was a chilly night, and the music was blasting from inside the house.

You were tired from all the traveling, touring, and filming. You loved your job and were extremely grateful that things were working in your favor, but boy, did it leave you drained. You hadn't spent time with Oscar, or really any of your friends, in quite some time, so you thought a night out wouldn't hurt after working too much.

So there you were, enjoying the chill night air, when a familiar voice reached your ears.

“There you are!" Oscar said cheerfully, "I've been looking for you for like 20 minutes; I thought you left!" he continued, in a very dramatic manner, you must add.

You couldn't help but smile at his theatrics as you welcomed him with a hug. "Oh, I could never leave a party of yours without saying goodbye. You know I'm better than that." you speak softly, suddenly noticing another person behind him.

"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Pedro,” he says this as he turns to face Pedro. "He's a fan," Oscar says in a singsong manner.

Pedro is standing there with his cheeks flushed and a smile forming on his lips. Although part of you wanted to be cocky about it and torture him a little, you bit your tongue, not wanting to make this worse for him.

Of course you knew who Pedro was. And not because he was in two of the most famous TV shows at the moment; it was because Oscar and Sarah wouldn't shut up about him. In every conversation you had over the phone with either of them, Pedro's name always found a way to come up. It seemed that no matter how hard they tried, they could not hide their enthusiasm for him.

So to say you were interested in meeting him was an understatement. You wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

Before you could properly introduce yourself, Oscar's name was called from inside the house. "Alright, I'll leave you two to it." he says, "Please be nice to each other!" he yells as he walks back inside. You shake your head in amusement.

"You are more beautiful in person," Pedro says in his very captivating, deep voice, catching you by surprise.

Now you are the one with the flushed cheeks.

“I thought you were shorter," you say back, daringly. Although it was an honest comment, it was also a way to deflect attention from the fact that he just called you beautiful.

Pedro laughs loudly, as if you had just told him the funniest joke ever.

"I am not trying to be mean or rude; I really thought you were like 5'3." you continued, putting your hands inside the pockets of your jacket.

"So you know who I am?" he asks, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Yeah, I like to enjoy good television in my free time." you tell him, focusing on his face.

He was more beautiful in person, too. To your relief, he was dressed similarly to you. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, tucked into dark jeans that fit him in all the right places. His hair was a bit tousled, and his mustache looked like it had been recently groomed. He must be filming Narcos, you thought. You also noticed his kind brown eyes. He had a warmth and friendliness about him that was immediately apparent.

"Also, our friends don't seem to know how to shut up about you. You are quite the talk of the town lately."

Your words made him smile. He doesn’t say anything but narrows his eyes, and you can practically hear his thoughts clamoring around in his head. "Alright, back to me being short, " you rolled your eyes as he continued with his speech, "Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually 5'11." He takes a seat on one of the small couches that have been set up in the backyard, prompting you to follow suit and take a seat as well.

"Like I said, I didn't mean it in a bad wa—" he cuts you off before you finish your sentence. "Ah, don't worry about it. Plus, if you still think that's short, I'll make up for my height with my other great qualities."

You let out a small laugh, relieved that he didn't take offense to your remark. Again. You look at him and reply, "Oh, I can't wait to see these other great qualities."

The transition from acquaintances to close enough to hang out alone without friends was just as easy, and you quickly became an unlikely pair of sorts.

You did everything you could together. From having movie marathons whenever you both happened to be in the same city to visiting different coffee shops and ordering the same thing every time—you anything that involved caramel and him four shots of black coffee over ice—it felt as if you had known each other your whole lives.

You were inseparable, and it felt effortless, like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing for so long finally fitting just right.

Given that you were in a serious, long-term relationship when you met, the tabloids didn't dig too much. All of the articles referred to you as friends, which saved you from having awkward conversations or even thinking too deeply about the whole thing.

There was also the age thing. Pedro was older than you, so everyone just assumed you'd never go there. Your boyfriend at the time never questioned your friendship with Pedro, either.

However, you now wish he had. It would've implied he was concerned, which you now know he wasn't. He was busy with other things. You don't exactly remember when things started to fall apart between the two of you. But you do remember how it felt when you found out he was cheating. It felt like a gut punch. The fact that the whole world also knew it didn't make it any better, either. You felt completely betrayed and exposed, not just by your boyfriend but by the whole world that seemed to be privy to your pain.

As any rational person would, you succumbed to work. If you were working, you wouldn't really have time to deal with all the viscerally painful emotions that have flooded your body ever since everything went to shit. You kept filming, and you kept making music. Endless hours spent at the piano provided you with incomparable peace and tranquility. Who knew a life-altering breakup was what you needed to write the best music of your career? At least something good had to come out of this disaster.

Of course your friends and family helped you navigate this process as well. However, one person stands out above the rest: Pedro.

It's like he made it his life mission to put you back together. He'd call just to check up on you, tell you random stuff about his day just to keep your mind off things, ask what book you were currently invested in, or simply say he missed you because months had passed and you couldn't see each other because of work.

"What time is it over there?" he asks, his voice was hoarse, as if he had just woken up.

"1:30 AM," you reply, glancing at your phone, "we're still shooting some stuff."

He groans into the phone, "I fucking hate it when filming drags on for too long."

"Yeah, tell me about it." you say this as you were stretching your back. You had been filming since the afternoon; it was currently past midnight, and production was still going. To say you were exhausted was an understatement. "Alright, I'll text you later. My break's sadly over."

"Yeah, sure. Good luck, princesa."

In other circumstances, you two happened to be in the same place at the same time. The parties were the best part of awards season. The entire purpose of the parties was to campaign for whatever projects were gaining traction, but for you, it meant spending time with friends you hadn't seen in a long time and having fun.

That explains why, four cosmos down, you were dancing and laughing in the middle of the dance floor with some of your friends. Or maybe it was five cosmos down. Truth be told, you stopped counting after the second one. You weren't the type to get wasted, but your goal for the night was to have fun, and alcohol definitely helped with that.

You start to get a little tired from all the dancing, so you head to the nearest couch. Sitting next to Sarah, she opens her arms to embrace you. "My little dirty dancer!" she says loudly, making everyone around you laugh. "Oh shut up, can't a girl have some harmless fun?" you say, a smirk on your face. You glance around the room at the grinning faces and shrug.

"It's karaoke time!" Jen, your friend and hostess for the evening, announced cheerfully, "Who wants to go first?"

"Oh, fuck me," Pedro groans, dragging his hand down his face. "I hate karaoke. I hate it. I don't want to sing karaoke, and I don’t want to listen to people sing karaoke."

He's sitting across from you with a beer in his hand and looking a little more drunk than you were. You chuckle as you watch him slump against the back of the chair during his karaoke rant.

This was no secret; after the first few weeks, when you began to hang out more frequently, he made sure to let you know this very important piece of information. That's why you took pleasure in doing it solely to irritate him.

"I will go first." You say this while looking him in the eyes. He rolls his eyes and sighs, knowing that you understand exactly why he's been so adamant about it.

"Why do you like to torture me, kid?"

"I can't help it; you're fun to mess with, Pedrito."

Even though he hated karaoke, you knew you were the only person he enjoyed listening to. You could tell by the way his eyes lit up whenever you hit the right note, the way he'd shake his head and chuckle when you made a mistake, and the smile that crept onto his face when you'd finished the song. Despite this, he would never admit to enjoying it.

You were busy listening to some of your friends talk about how you didn't completely butcher your rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" when hands landed on your waist from behind and you felt a hot breath on your neck. "That was terrible, mi amor."

Spinning around to face him as he straightens up, you spot his beautiful brown eyes. "When will you admit how much you enjoy my karaoke performances?" you try to pretend you're mad, but you can't help the corners of your mouth turning up in a smirk.

Pedro chuckles, his body vibrating against yours. He leans down, his lips barely brushing yours, his breath ghosting across your skin. "Never," he says, almost in a whisper.

Your body is buzzing from the proximity. No, it's the alcohol. Without a doubt, the alcohol. You're unbothered by the proximity. The same way you're unbothered by the way he's smiling down at you.

"You're insufferable," you say, keeping the conversation moving so you don't have time to spiral.

He brings his beer to his lips, smirking as he sips. "If by insufferable you mean utterly charming, then you are right."

Just like he made it his mission to put you back together after your life fell apart, sometimes it was your turn to put him back together, too. No matter how hard he tried to bottle up his feelings, you were always the one who could get through to him, able to make him smile or make him think with just a few simple words.

Pedro was no longer a mystery to you. He's a contradiction in motion. He withdraws into the distance that comes with fame, but he also wants to connect. Despite having a tendency to be open, he tends to hold a lot of himself back. He cares so much and yet he's also uncomfortable caring so much.

You were both in London for different reasons but were staying in the same hotel. One night, you decide to stop by his room before leaving for an event. You knock three times before he opens the door.

"Have you been crying?" you ask him, immediately concerned.

He is initially hesitant to respond, but eventually caves. "Well, yeah."

"What happened?"

"It's kind of pathetic, really."

"Then let's be pathetic together. Tell me." you respond as you push your way into the room.

"Prince died," he says, his voice hoarse from the crying.

"Pedro..." you say quietly, not really knowing what to say.

"I know, I know. It's stupid."

"Of course not." you quickly reply, "There's no shame in crying, I know how much you love him." you take a deep breath and approach him, offering him your hand. "C'mere, let's sit down."

You started lowering yourself to the floor, and he followed. "You don't have to do this...you look like you've probably got somewhere else to be."

"I've got nowhere else to be."

The two of you just sat there, not saying a word. You held him while he cried, his head on your shoulder as you ran your hand through his hair. If you could go and bring Prince back from the dead just so he wouldn't hurt like this, you would do it in a heartbeat. But you knew that was impossible, so all you could do was sit there and comfort him.

"You two should date."

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Sarah?"

"What!" she laughs. "You're basically dating already."

Since you hadn't seen each other in a while, Sarah had extended an invitation for you to have breakfast at her house. She had questioned you about your love life after discussing a number of other topics, and when you replied that you were still single, she made that absolutely ridiculous remark.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means," she says, almost giggling, "that you two are doing the things that couples do, like going on dates and spending time together."

"We don't go on dates," you quickly reply, "and I don't like him like that."

She rolls her eyes, unconvinced, and asks, "Why?"

"Because..." you trail off, "Because he's Pedro... and I am me." Even though you were aware that what you were saying made no sense, you refrained from going into detail.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

"There's nothing to see, Sarah."

It was difficult to pinpoint the exact moment you first realized that occasionally, completely unprompted, your thoughts would turn to Pedro.

This was similar to how you two became friends without ever consciously choosing to do so. The mere thought of his loud, booming laugh and the way he beams at you when you crack a joke would make the corner of your mouth twitch into a small smile. Eventually, you understood that those thoughts of Pedro and the slight thrill they gave you were very different from friendship.

Yet you decided not to go there. You both enjoyed your friendship, and he never said or did anything to make you believe he felt otherwise. Or that was just a bunch of bullshit you came up with to not deal with it anyway.

You were friends, close friends, and you didn't want to jeopardize the best friendship you'd ever had by listening to that little voice in your head that occasionally whispered, "What if...?"

It wasn't until one night that everything changed. You're still unsure if it was for better or worse.

You were changing into far more comfortable clothes than you'd been wearing all day. It was finally Friday, something you were very grateful for since work had been nothing but tedious lately. You had the weekend off; it seemed like an eternity since you had been free for a couple of days.

As you slipped on your favorite and very worn-out t-shirt, your phone rang. "Ugh, what now?" you whined. You were suddenly regretting your words as you picked up the phone; his throaty voice filled your ears, and you felt instantly better. It was almost embarrassing.

"I heard you had a shitty week," he says, "I am coming over."

"How'd you know that?"

"The more important question here is why have you been in New York for days and didn't tell me? I'm actually hurt, love."

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just been a little rough."

The guilt immediately washes over you. You knew that you should have called or even sent him a quick text, but your mind was only focused on getting through the week. It was like you were on autopilot.

"I will be there in 20 minutes." he replies, hanging up.

Without anything better to do, you decide to wash some dishes that have been sitting in the sink since last night while you wait for Pedro to arrive. You quickly finish that and then decide to pass the remaining time by reading a book you started a couple of weeks ago. You flip through the book's pages, trying to recall where you left off because the earmarked corner you'd marked seemed to have disappeared.

Before you can find the page, your cellphone screen lights up again, catching your attention out of the corner of your eye, and though it feels silly and childish, you can feel the way your heart leaps and your chest tightens just a fraction when you read the notification and see Pedro's name. "I'm here."

You rush to the door, flinging it open with a gust of energy, and you find him standing there, one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other holding a bag, a crooked smile on his lips. "I brought wine and takeout from that place you love down on 54th." It had been months since you'd last seen him, and it was like no time had passed at all. He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and you take the bag, allowing your eyes to meet his with a smile. Fuck.

As you set everything on the kitchen counter, you both decide to eat right away. The warm, inviting scent of the food spread throughout the kitchen, and it was as if all your worries and tiredness had disappeared. The conversation flowed perfectly as you both devoured the delicious food, and you were grateful for the moment of peace.

After finishing your meal, he helps you collect everything and clean up the kitchen.

"You’ll get wrinkles if you keep working that hard, mama," he tells you as he throws something in the trash can, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Don't call me that," you giggle, a little tipsy from the wine. "It makes me feel—" you stop yourself before you finish the sentence. Fuck.

"It makes you feel what?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

Well, it makes you feel embarrassed, as if you have let your guard down and revealed too much of your innermost thoughts. And it gives you butterflies. But you don't tell him that. "Nothing," you say, "it's just funny."

You knew you didn't have it in you to keep your thoughts, body, and face under control, especially when he was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded, looking like he just stepped out of a movie. You were feeling exposed and vulnerable, as if your thoughts were written all over your face, so you did what you do best: you changed the subject.

"Remember that one time we got high on edibles to go see The Incredibles 2?" you blurt, hoping he would forget what just came out of your mouth. He looked at you for a moment, as if he were considering your question, before bursting out in laughter.

"How could I forget?" he says. "It's one of our finest moments."

"Would you like to repeat the occasion?"

"Don't threaten me with a good time, baby."

You go to one of the kitchen drawers and pull out the box of cookies. "I can't believe you're offering me drugs." Pedro says in a dramatic tone.

"Oh shut up, do I need to remind you whose idea it was last time?" you roll your eyes, grabbing two cookies and throwing one at him.

"Should we honor last time and watch a movie?" he says as he takes a bite of the cookie.

To be entirely honest, you should have known that things were about to go off the rails the very moment the man at the other end of the couch, in that impossibly confident and seductive voice, asked you to come closer. "You're miles away from me, princesa."

If you had been wise, you would have politely declined. If you had any sense of self-preservation when it came to Pedro, you would have declined his offer and avoided thinking about him fucking you into this very couch. But you weren't wise, which is why your legs are thrown over his lap and his fingers are drawing circles in your thighs. Pedro’s gaze feels like a caress, and his voice is thick, "You look like you're thinking too hard."

"What?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"I said you looked like you were thinking too hard." he replies, "What's running through that pretty head of yours?"

Your teeth are tugging at your bottom lip in a way that Pedro seems to find distracting because he nearly slips up and breaks the carefully maintained eye contact, his gaze darting down just a fraction of an inch. You don't know where the courage came from, but you lean in on your elbows, lifting yourself from the laying position you were in, closing the gap even further until it's impossibly small.

You can tell you know what you've been doing when you pause with only a breath of space between your mouth and his, worrying at your lip with the intention of getting him to break first, like you’re challenging him to decide where this goes next. "What do you think I'm thinking about?" you finally reply, your gaze not wavering for a second. Pedro's hesitation is just a second before his mouth parts, leaning in just enough to touch your forehead and close his eyes.

"I think you're thinking about all the wrong things we could be doing right now instead of watching this boring movie."

"I think you're correct."

His lips curl into a smile, pulling away only slightly to look you in the eye, his voice barely above a whisper, "Can I kiss you?"

And that's when it happens. You lean in, your lips slamming into his so quickly that your thumb gets caught in the middle. He nips at it, biting down a little harder than he wanted to, but you don't mind and simply move it out of the way, sliding it away from his mouth and resting it across his cheekbone. You straddle his lap, and as his hands find their way to your waist and his lips move ever so hungrily against yours, you feel a fire inside.

Everything is happening so fast, and the room is spinning around you. You're not sure if you're feeling this way because of the drugs or because of Pedro. You can feel the pressure of his hands against your skin and a warmth radiating through you; all you know is that you don't want it to end. As you begin to grind against his hard on, he moves his hands to your ass and grips it tightly.

"You like that, hm?" he rasps, between kisses. You moan in agreement, and one of his free hands travels up your body to the nape of your neck and squeezes it tightly. You gasp at the sensation and move your body to match his movements, pushing yourself closer against him.

It's rough and messy. You're both desperate, as if you've been waiting your entire lives to do this. Pedro's hands covered your entire body, and his mouth kissed your neck and mouth roughly, as if trying to make up for the years of anticipation.

"Fuck, P," you moan; he wasn't giving you even a second to breathe.

"Tell me what you need, princesa."

"I need you to touch me."

"Your wish is my command."

Pedro moved quickly, his fingers caressing and teasing your body as he worshipped you with each touch until he finally reached your shorts.

He slides his hand down your panties and groans. "I haven't even touched you properly, and you're already wet, baby." His fingers pressed down softly as he moved around your clit, rubbing and massaging it until you felt yourself close to the edge. He manages to get his free hand under your shirt, and he massages your breasts, pinching your nipples softly as you moan in pleasure.

"Are you gonna come for me, princesa, hm?"

"Y-yeah..." you gasp, not even ashamed of how quickly your orgasm was approaching, "I can't... hold it..."

He took that as a sign to go faster and harder, and as he continued to draw circles on your clit, a wave of pleasure swept through your body, culminating in a moan that signaled your impending climax.

"Fuck!" you screamed as you came suddenly, body trembling and hips bucking once more. Pedro let out a groan at the sight and sounds you were making. You're both gasping for air, one of his hands on one side of your face, your foreheads touching.

And that's when it happens. Instant regret.

Oh my god.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

What have you done?

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#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #my writing

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writersblog20 · 1 year

Text

High

Pedro Pascal x (curly hair) reader

Credits to the gif maker!

Summary: After a very shitty day, your neigbour, Pedro helps you to relax in every way possible

Warnings: Smoking weed, drinking alcohol, age-gap, sexual tension, reader gets picked up, smut, p in v, no condom (please do use a condom), mention of panic and anxiety (just one sentence or so) oral Female receiving, squirting, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names, Pedro being called: Papi, creampie, blowjob, soft sex, soft Pedro, overstimulation, aftercare and fluff

Words: 4K

High

You angrily placed your bag on your table when you arrived home. You were beyond pissed. You were finally done with some part of the exams for now but god did your professor test your patience today. This was your final exam and you’ve been preparing very good for it but you had to give a presentation with two of your teachers and your professor tried everything he could think off to dismantle your arguments and it worked. He got right underneath your skin, pissing you off to no end. There was no winning here for you. You did well though, very well even but you and that professor always buttheads together. So you came home, pissed out of your mind and couldn’t wait to smoke a joint and drink some wine or well, anything will do if it has alcohol in it. You quickly put your oversized hoodie on before going outside.

You let out a deep, frustrated sigh, got your joint and sat down on your porch as you put some music on. You lit the candles that were on the table of the porch. It started to get dark outside and you were more than ready to forget about this day as if it never even happened.

You inhaled the smoke and let it rest in your lungs. You started to feel the tension loosen up a bit until you heard the door open from your neighbour, the one and only Pedro Pascal. The daddy of the internet, the famous actor and your neighbor. You had a crush from the moment he moved in the house next to you. Yeah it wasn’t helping your daddy issues in any way here. You panicked a little because you didn’t want him to know that you smoked weed. He walked up to your porch with a bright smile that already made you forget about your day as you smiled back. You could say by now that you and Pedro were good friends.

“Hey neighbour!” he said with a smirk. You smiled but felt your heartrate pick up. He held up a tray of corona’s and a bottle of tequila. “Want to have a beer with me? Heard you had a bad day.” He told you, awaiting your answer. “Sure why not.” You smiled. “How do you know I have a bad day?” you asked him once you realized what he said. “Your mom texted me, asking if I could check up on you. Besides, it gave me a reason to see you again.” He told you with a teasing smirk which made you feel flustered. Pedro’s charm always worked on you and made your crush grow stronger.

He sat next to you. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her that you smoke weed.” He told you casually and your face fell from being caught but you also felt the tension leave your body “As long as you share this one with me.” he told you with the same smirk and held up his own joint. You chuckled slightly and relaxed back into your chair. “Deal.” You giggled as Pedro handed you a shot of tequila and clinked it together “Salud” Pedro said, making you repeat him. You took the shot and groaned slightly when you finished it. Pedro opened the corona bottle and handed it to you and lit the joint after.

“So… Want to talk about it?” he asked you a bit more serious now as he handed you the joint. You took a big hit and held it in your lungs for a bit. “It was my teacher. He tried to fuck me over in every way he could find.” You told him and Pedro frowned, not liking what he heard. You told him about your day and let out a deep sigh when you were done. “He sounds like a first class dick.” Pedro told you, making you nod and stare in front of you while taking another hit before passing it to Pedro.

You were finally high and relaxed, not really wanting to talk about your day anymore. You started to get more comfortable in the chair. You looked at Pedro who already looked at you with his big brown eyes. You couldn’t look away as a rush of excitement went into your tummy. You see, you weren’t used to this weed and some have a… well an effect on you. You were horny let’s just keep it on that and the hot man sitting next to you, who you had a big crush on wasn’t helping this case at all. But you weren’t even sure if he ever thought of you in that way because of the age gap.

You looked in front of you again, feeling the heat creeping up. Some curls fell in front of your face, placing them back behind your ears only for them to jump back in place so you just blew them out of your face, not noticing how mesmerized Pedro looked at you right now. You heard the familiar tune of The Weeknd with Lost in the fire and got did the air around you two tighter.

Pedro got the shot glasses and poured another shot of tequila in it, giving it to you, looking directly into your eyes. You saw something in his eyes that you haven’t seen before, it was a lustful look yet adoringly. For some reason you started to feel very confident and gave him your best flirt look. A soft smirk with siren eyes as you leaned towards him a bit. “Salud.” You told him seductively. Pedro swallowed and looked away from you, shifting in his seat a bit, making you grin. “Salud.” He cleared his voice before he spoke and looked at you again as you took the shot. His eyes scanning every feature on your face, the way your curls were bouncing a bit while his heartrate started to pick up and his pants got a bit too tight for his liking.

You heard the familiar tune of the neighbourhood with daddy issues and all of your confidence flew out of the window while you felt your whole face heat up and a bit of embarrassment flowing through your body. You felt too embarrassed to put on a different song at this point. You tried to take a sneaky look at Pedro but was met with his brown eyes. He had a smirk, feeling that your confidence passed on to Pedro. His eyes were darker and filled with lust. You quickly looked away. You were wondering if this was the effect of the weed or if he was always just like that.

Flashes of that TikTok edit came to your mind with all of the sinful thoughts you had right now. You couldn’t shake the images out of your head. You would never tell him that you watched endlessly TikTok edits of your hot older neighbor that was at least 24 years older than you. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours sweetheart?” he asked you. You realized that you were deep, very deep in thought.

You played with the label that was placed on the corona bottle. You shook your head slightly. “Nothing important.” Pedro took a sip of his bottle, keeping eye contact with you and you felt the heat moving somewhere else as you squirmed just a bit in your chair. The silent that Pedro put in the conversation was unbearable as the air thickened around the two of you. “That’s good weed.” You commented with a slight chuckle. Pedro chuckled “Yeah definitely” he looked at you and you couldn’t get enough of his eyes as you felt butterflies. “Oh I love this song! Dance with me!” Pedro’s excitement made you chuckle as he was already standing and held his hand out for you.

You giggled and took his large hand in yours and stood up. Pedro’s smile was contagious while his arm was around your waist and the other holding your hand. You felt like you were going to black out at this point. Your heart beating against your chest and it felt like your skin was on fire where he touched you. You grew very shy and couldn’t even look at him focusing on your shoes. “Hey, look at me, I’m right here.” He told you and placed a finger underneath your chin, looking up at him. His kind brown eyes connected with yours and you felt yourself go into a trance, all mushy. He smiled adoringly at you. “There you are.” He told you softly with a smile. “use your hips more baby.” he commented “I know you got it in you.” he told you with a slight wink.

You were officially a puddle in his hands right now. Did he know about your crush? Does he like you? He must if he says these things. And the pet name? Are you kidding me?!! You were completely lost in your head but yet still very much in the moment.

You knew how to use your hips but you didn’t feel that confident yet. “I’m afraid I need more tequila for that.” You giggled slightly, embarrassed while you looked at his chest, not able to make eye contact. Pedro let go off you with one hand, the other still tightly around your waist while he grabbed the bottle. He took a sip straight from the bottle while looking at you with a grin and passed it to you after he was done. You took some good gulps, hoping that it would work soon. Pedro probably mistaken your nervousness for uncomfortable and he let go immediately off you, never wanting to make you uncomfortable. You frowned a bit and looked at him confused. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I thought…” He told you and shook his head not wanting to finish his sentence and was ready to take his stuff and leave but you stopped him by grabbing his arm and letting your other hand rest on his chest.

Pedro looked at your hand that was on his chest and back to you. “I didn’t feel uncomfortable… I felt nervous…..” you told him shyly. It was silent and you looked up at him, a bit of fear visible in your eyes and Pedro’s eyes soften at you, turning his body completely towards you. His fingers softly going over your cheek before placing a curl behind your ear (or tried at least). “Nervous for what?” Pedro almost whispered as the air started to tighten around you again while his hand covered yours on his chest, taking your hand in his. You tried to look down but his finger was underneath your chin again, pulling you up. “I…. I ehhh think you now why.” Pedro’s eyes held more lust again. “I want you to tell me.” his voice still holding that gentleness.

You looked up, goosebumps covering your body. You made eye contact with Pedro and felt a rush of confidence going over you and you quickly placed your lips again his. Pedro knew it was going to happen but was still a bit shocked. You sighed in the kiss and held his shirt in your fist. Pedro sighed in the kiss as well. His arms around your waist, pulling you against his body while his other hand found your cheek, cupping it while he deepened the kiss. His hand that was resting on your hip dug into your skin causing you to moan in the kiss.

Pedro walked backwards, his hand searching for the doorknob without breaking the kiss as you both stumbled inside your home. The kiss turned into a lot of lust while your hands went over his body as well. His hand found your ass and he tightly grabbed it and you jumped into his arms as a reaction. “Bedroom?” he broke from the kiss, his lips plump just like yours from the heated kiss. You pointed to the door while you started to attack his neck and your hands going through his soft hair.

He opened the door, letting out a shaky breath as you sucked a spot in his neck. He carefully laid you down on the bed, hanging above you. You were both out of breath while you held intense eye contact. You wanted to grab his face so you could kiss him again, it was addictive but Pedro pulled back, making you frown. “Are you sure?” he asked you, looking intently into your eyes. “Yes” was all you could say as you lips crashed against yours again.

Your hands were in his hair and your body started to move on its own, pushing your hips up so you could grind against him. You were completely intoxicated by the man above you. He attached his mouth to your neck while his hand went over the curves from your body. God this man did things to you that he had no idea of. Finally Pedro let his body go closer to you and you grinded against his still growing bulge in his pants. You whimpered slightly, you were so needy for this man and he knew it.

His hands going slowly over your clit over your pants, making you whimper. “Daddy please.” You murmured, whines evident in your voice as you begged him. He stopped sucking the sweet spot in your neck and you felt shame and panic growing in your stomach. “what did you call me Chiquita?” his eyes looked amused by your sentence. Shame and panic left your body but shyness got in their space. “Come on, repeat it baby. What did you call me?” he had a smirk on his face as you whispered out “Daddy.” Pedro’s eyes went darker again while he leaned towards your ear, his breath on your cheek. “That’s right. I’m your daddy.” You turned your head a bit so you could kiss him again.

His hand going where you needed him the most but still over your pants. “Please daddy please!” you pleaded. Pedro had a smug smile on his face, fully enjoying this. His hands roamed over your body again before his hand finally disappeared into your jeans. Your hips grinding against his hands. Pedro felt how wet you were and groaned into your ears and he could feel the reaction his moans had on you while you clenched on his finger. He smiled and softly bit your ear lobe while you whimpered. His hand coming from your jeans and showed you how wet you were. You felt the heat creeping up your cheeks. “Is this all for me Chiquita?” He whispered in your ear. Your brain was so mushy that all you could do was nod.

He smiled and kissed you passionately before Pedro took your jeans off gently. His lips on your leg slowly going up while his hand caressed your leg. When his mouth got attached to your thigh, he made eye contact with you, his hot breath against your thigh while he torturously slow went up to your core which was covered by your panty. His thumb over your panty, circling your clit. You moaned out and arched your back. You wanted him, needed him. “Tell me what you want baby girl.” He whispered his voice still laced with comfort and softness. You whimpered out almost beggingly “I want you, papi.” The moment called him: “papi” his grin grew like you’ve never seen before and he took off your panty.

He placed a delicate kiss on your clit while looking at you with mischief. You let your head fall on your pillow, moaning out. You were sure that you were dripping at this point. You felt his tongue over your whole pussy, giving it a good lick before sucking on your clit. Your hand went through his hair, holding it carefully while he held your other hand, letting it rest on your stomach while he intertwined his fingers with yours. He looked up at you with his big brown cow eyes while he ate you out was enough to make you cum.

Pedro noticed that you were close and slowly put his finger in your entrance and curled it, playing with your g-spot. You gasped out and squeezed his hand tightly, your other hand clutching on his hair, making it messy. “Daddy, I’m close, please don’t stop.” You begged him. Pedro let go of your hand and held your hips a bit up in a tight lock, making it unable for you to move while his eyes watched your expressions close and intensely. Before you knew it a rush of ecstasy washed over you as Pedro kept going, almost overstimulating you.

His grip loosened and Pedro hang above you again with an adoring look as you tried to catch your breath, looking mesmerized at Pedro, his hair all messy from your hand in it. You pulled him for a kiss. His hands roaming over your body again. You pushed Pedro softly on his back and sat on his lap, kissing him again. Pedro gently cupping your cheeks. Some of your curls fell onto his forehead and he pulled it back. You started to grind on his dick through his pants. Your orgasm left a wet spot on his pants while you kept grinding. Pedro held your hips tightly and let his head fall on your pillow, letting out a groan. “There you go mamacita. Keep doing that.” You felt your stomach flutter from the nickname. “I had some other things in mind.” You told him and got off from his lap.

Pedro looked at you while you undid his pants. “Let me take care of you now daddy.” You told him, knowing it got to him. He groaned when you pulled his cock out and didn’t waist a second before going down, slobbering all over. God this man was build differently and it made your mouth water and your pussy clench by the idea of him in you. It definitely was a sloppy blowjob and from the sounds Pedro made, he enjoyed it very much so. He cursed underneath his breath with gasps. His hand found your hair and held your curls in his hand, holding it away from your face. You made eye contact with Pedro and he let out a moan and let his head fall on the pillow from the amount of pleasure that you were giving him.

“Fuck…., Baby if you keep doing that I’m going to cum.” He told you and got you off from him, carefully laying you on your back again and Pedro above you. He kissed you passionately like he had never done before, taking your breath away as you both moaned in the kiss. “I need you Papi, please, please.” Your eyes begged him and Pedro had to control himself so he wouldn’t cum by just your begging already. “God you are something else baby girl.” You crashed your lips against his again.

You took his sweater off and he took your oversized hoodie off as well, softly undoing your bra and the moment you were completely naked in front of him, he looked mesmerized at you with a smile before laying above you again and pulling you back in a passionate kiss. Your hand slowly going over his chest, belly and towards his cock. You held his cock in your hands and Pedro gasped slightly when you guided it to your entrance. Pedro stopped kissing you while you guided him into your entrance. His thumb softly rubbing your cheek for comfort. You put the tip in and you were dripping on the sheets when you pushed him in slowly before Pedro took over.

You whimpered, your eyes tightly shut from the pain and pleasure. He was stretching you out but he did it slowly while he groaned out as well. When he was fully in he waited so you could get used to his size. “Look at me mama.” He told you and you opened your eyes carefully. You saw Pedro looking at you with all the love radiating from his eyes. “You’re going to be okay. If it hurts, you tell me okay?” you nodded and Pedro kissed your forehead, making you feel all fuzzy and clingy. “Please daddy, I want to feel you. I want you close.” You begged and Pedro slowly started to move while he kept looking at you to see if you were okay.

His cock was coated by your juices, making him moan out. You put your arms around his shoulder, pulling him closer to your body. You craved the skin to skin contact. He sat up with you still hanging on him as a koala. He sat up straight, his cock deep buried inside of you. “Ride me baby, show daddy what you can do.” He told you, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders while you started to grind on his dick. His hands on your hips, pushing you deeper on his cock. You started to grind faster, feeling the euphoric feeling coming closer. “Papi…” you whispered out, followed by moans as you clenched on his dick. Pedro placed his arms tightly around you, pushing your chest against his in a hug. You started to shake on his cock, Pedro moaning out as a reaction while you clenched on his cock. “There you go princesa” Pedro grumbled out.

He laid down on his back, you still on top of him. You kept riding him while he took in every part of your body. “My god, your angelic.” He told you and pulled you down as he cupped your cheeks and kissed you deeply before putting his arms around you again and started to pound you out. You gasped at the sudden speed and the way it hit your g-spot perfect. Pedro cursed underneath his breath when he felt your juices flowing out of you. You were squirting before you could even realize that it happened. Pedro moaned and tried to catch his breath, feeling you shake above him.

You collapsed on his chest and kissed him while you were still out of breath. His hair sticking to his forehead from sweat and you brushed them gently out of the way while

Pedro’s eyes followed you, completely intoxicated by you. His hands caressing your waist and curves. Pedro moved his hand to the back of your neck and pushed you down so he could kiss you. You heard Pedro moan in this kiss which caused you to clench around his dick again. Pedro grumbled and pushed you softly over so he could fuck you on your back.

His eyes were a bit darker, connected with yours as he pushed his cock back into you, causing you to gasp. Pedro held your legs as he pounded into you. Pedro was close to while you chased your own orgasm again. “Come in me, please come in me, daddy” Pedro grumbled out and laid on top of you, holding you close. The way he moaned in your ear, pounded you out and held you so gentle at the same time made you cum in no time again. “That’s it baby, come on papi’s dick. Clench on my cock Chiquita” You felt his own cum shooting deep inside of you. Pedro cursed in between grumbles, getting down from his own high. His head buried between your neck and shoulder until he calmed down and let it rest on your shoulder while you went with your hands through his hair, trying to catch your own breath.

Pedro rolled on his back, pulling you with him so he could hug you. You went with your fingertips over his chest, Pedro kissing your head and massaging your scalp. “So I was right? You really do have a crush on me.” Pedro said chuckling as you pushed him away as a joke and rolled your eyes but your smile said enough. Pedro pulled you back into his chest while laughing. “I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry. If it helps, I have a crush too….” Pedro whispered the last part in your ear, making you look at him. You both just watched each other for moment until you both chuckled. “Can you please stay tonight? I don’t want to be alone right now.” you told him and Pedro smiled lovingly at you. “I’ll stay as long as you want and need me to, princesa” you smiled from all the butterflies in your stomach.

Pedro held you tighter and you let him, craving his comfort. “Let’s stay here for a bit longer.” He told you, making you look up and kiss him gently. After a gentle and loving make-out session, both clinging to each other as you closed your eyes, happy that the shitty day didn’t end shitty

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