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pedroshotwifey · 11 hours

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To the Flame chapter fifteen

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Chapter w/c: 3.4k

Chapter warnings: physical abuse, like hardcore abuse pls heed the warning, manipulation, mental abuse, toxic relationship, alcohol consumption, alcoholism, description of injury, choking and not in the sexy way, noncon piv sex, noncon fingering, panic attacks, emotional distress, anxiety attacks, this is fucked, please just go in with caution, like fr i don't think i can sum all the fucked up shit in this chapter up

Chapter Summary: Is this the end?

A/N: Hey to everyone who's stuck by this story! This chapter is very intense and I just want to put it here that everything that happens here (and in this story in general) is obviously not okay. I am here if anybody needs to talk about anything at all. Take care of yourselves ❤

*****

You barely see kindness from Javi for the next couple of weeks. It was pretty much the same as the usual, but now you have to spend most nights with a terrifying man you don’t know. Whereas your husband used to come home, tired from work but still kind, there’s now a stranger who seems to not care at all. It’s happened so fast—the switch—that you think you may be in a perpetual state of shock. It’s hard to comprehend, but the difference is there. Easy to see when you just open your eyes. The biggest you’ve seen is how his first move once he gets home, is always to the fridge or the liquor cabinet. By dinner, he’s usually at least a few beers or glasses of whiskey deep, and by bed, he’s drunk enough to be slurring his speech and forgetting whatever he says the second it’s out of his mouth.

A couple of nights, he comes home a bit later, and you suspect that he’s been to the bar on those days because he comes home already drunk off his ass. You don’t know what’s worse—watching the buildup or being hit with dread as soon as he walks through the door. There have been a couple days where comes home and doesn’t touch a drop, and you savor them. Those precious moments you get with him when you know he’s listening to you and giving you his time instead of the alcohol.You like to just pretend that everything is okay on those days, because blissful ignorance is better than ruining those good moments by thinking about the bad. Knowing you have days like that, though, makes it so much worse when you go to him, wanting to talk or simply be around him, and then feel the disappointment when it sinks in that he’s already gone.

It hurts every time he does it, because it makes you feel alone again. You’ve come to understand that he turns into a different person when he drinks, a person you don’t know. This new person—this stranger—likes to hurt you. He’s rageful and hateful and relentless and overpowering. You take a sip of your coffee from where you’re currently sitting at the kitchen table and shiver at the memory of just last night, when he’d fucked you deep into the mattress and spilled within minutes before collapsing on top of you, dead asleep. You keep telling yourself that you wanted it, but you know better. You’d told him no, and when he ignored you, you’d gotten scared. So you let it happen. It’s your own fault for being weak and you know it.

Besides, that voice in your pounding head challenges, what kind of a woman doesn’t want to make love to her husband? What kind of woman doesn’t want to feel her lover’s touch?

It shames you both ways. Not wanting him but letting him take what he wants anyway. You think that you might be doing it because fighting would make it real. If you just let it happen, he’s not taking anything from you. Maybe if you just let it happen, he’ll stop.

Lies, that other part of your brain spits at you. The more logical one.

You take another sip to smooth out the knot that’s formed in your throat. You pretend that it was never there. You’ve been doing a lot of that lately.

It seems like every day gets worse. He gets meaner and he takes more and more. You can tell that there’s something making him do it, something controlling the impulse to pick up that bottle and down the entire thing. You wish desperately that he would just talk to you, or that you at least knew what it was so that you could help, but you’re just as useless with that as you are everything else. You want to kill the stranger inside of him. You want to pull him out and gut him and hurt him in every way he’s hurt you. You just want your Javi back.

But even then, it wouldn’t be the same, and you’re painfully aware of that. It’s still awful and wrong, even now, in those moments he is there. When the Javi you know and love is dormant and there to hold you like nothing’s wrong. The worst part because you don’t know if he remembers everything he does to you. It doesn’t make sense, because you know he sees the bruises that cover your body some days, the way you have to limp when you’re too sore to walk right. You see the glint in his eye when he reaches for you and you flinch away. He can see the physical bruises just as well as your mental wounds, but he acts oblivious, like he’s not to blame for your pain.

You ignore the tear that slips down your cheek as you catch yourself caught up in it again. It’s so fucking hurtful and confusing. You want to pretend, too. Pretend that none of it ever happened, but you’re the one who has to wear the consequences, so you have no choice but to face them.

You asked him one morning, when you’d woken up and caught him sober as he was getting ready for work, why he’d hit you the night before. The night before when he’d stripped you and taken you to bed and covered your mouth with his hand when you began to sob. You didn’t mean to, but as you’d tried to get him to stop, you felt skin between your teeth. Just to see if he remembered, you asked him. You know you shouldn’t have, but you were so tired and the hole in your stomach was so large that you needed to know. Just to see if you could find an excuse to forgive him and close it up.

But Javi had stopped and watched you for a moment before his eyes darkened and he looked at you like he was angry at you. “You fucking bit me. What did you think was going to happen?”

You’d just laid back down and let the tears ease you back to sleep. He knows what he does. You know he does. He just doesn’t care. But why? Why doesn’t he care? Regret it? Feel sorry? What happened?

You’ve become numb with each day that passes, more accepting of the fact that you need to stop letting your emotions control you. The anger, the fear, the hatred. You can still feel it lingering somewhere deep inside of you, waiting for the right moment to pounce, but you’re content to just ignore it for now. Ignore everything that makes you question why. It’s like a tightness around your heart, a shield that went up without your permission. And maybe it’s for the best, but you wish it would drop at least a little, because you feel like you haven’t been able to be yourself around Javi in days. You can tell he sees it, too. But he never says anything. Does he even care that you’re changing, that he’s the one who’s changed you?

You set your now-cold coffee down and look out the window. How the fuck did you get here? You’re so tired of your every day being this. Alone in the apartment, and then scared when you’re not. Sometimes, you don’t know what’s worse. There’s days when you get the idea to just leave, but you know better. You can’t. Your husband is still here, somewhere. You can’t leave him because it would break your heart completely, and not being around him at all is something you can’t handle. And even if he wasn’t, that man who’s replaced him would find you. You know it in your gut that he would.

You let out a shaky sigh, brush away your tears, and stand up. At least you have things to do today instead of sitting in silence. As far as you know, Steve and Connie are still coming over Sunday night for dinner. The house isn’t too messy, since you usually start your days with tidying up the mess from the night before, but there are things that can be cleaned more thoroughly. The kitchen needs to be scrubbed, the living room tidied.

Javi had woken you up before he left this morning and asked what you plan on making. He’s going to bring the ingredients home tonight so that everything will be ready for you to start tomorrow. You’re actually excited about that. Not just about seeing people again, but also about putting together an elaborate meal. Recently, it’s been whatever kind of soups or sandwich stuff that Javi brings home for you to make. It’s been too long since you made something more complex than a casserole.

You bring your mug to the sink and start with that, rinsing it and placing it on the side with the rest of the dirty dishes. You take one look at the massive pile and decide you’ll do that last. You absolutely despise doing the dishes, Besides, leaving it for last will be more rewarding once the pile is gone and everything is officially spotless.

You start instead with the living room, and then the bathroom, and then the bedroom. It takes all day, but you’re proud of the result by the time you’re ready for the kitchen. It all looks as good as the first time you cleaned it, not a speck of dust in sight, everything in its rightful place. You’re proud of yourself, and catch yourself genuinely smiling as you make your way to the dishes.

You’re in the kitchen, filling up the sink with water, when he gets home. Keys rattle in the door, making you jump in surprise. It’s only then that you notice it’s gone dark outside. Your eyes flick up to the clock, and your stomach churns when you see the time. It’s almost 12:00am. It shouldn’t take that long to go to the grocery store. You know immediately where he’s been. Your body goes taught as you hear the door shut behind him. He doesn’t announce himself, but you can hear his heavy footsteps as he walks through the house to get to you. They sound wrong, like he’s stumbling.

Your hands begin to shake as you push the faucet to stop the running water and wipe them down on your shirt. You feel more than see Javi’s broad form stop in the doorway beside you, and you contemplate greeting him, but you don’t know how his day’s been so you don’t want to start anything if he wants silence.

You pick up one of the plates from the pile beside the sink and dunk it slowly into the water before pouring a bit of soap on it, continuing to avoid eye contact with your husband. The gentle scrub of the sponge against the ceramic and the occasional drip of excess water is the only sound to be heard throughout the house.

You can feel his eyes on you, and you have to physically resist the urge to squirm beneath his heavy gaze. You just try to keep your breathing steady and focus on your task.

“Not going to ask me how my day was?” Javi’s voice is hard. Cold. It makes you shiver. Wrong choice, then.

“How was your day?” Your voice in contrast is meek even as you look at him and flash a smile. So small it makes you want to slap yourself. You just blink and keep washing the plate in your hands.

Javi sighs loudly as he leans against the door frame, as if thinking it over. “How was your day, sweetheart?” He starts to walk toward you, coming up behind you and putting his hands on your waist, ducking down a bit to press his lips to your neck.

“It was fine,” you say, though there’s a pang of hurt as you wish so badly that he was asking genuinely. That he wanted to talk to you, wanted to be here with you.

He nods against you, his hands traveling down to your waistband. You squirm a bit but try to hold still in hopes that he’ll just stop. “Just fine, hm? I can make it better.” Your eyes shut. Of course he wouldn’t.

“No, thank you, my day was good. I’m just tired.” You start to push his hands off of you, but he doesn’t allow it.

“Well, I didn’t have a very good day,” he counters. “I was looking forward to coming home and fucking my sweet, pretty little wife, ‘n’ then she tells me she doesn’t want me.”

Irritation prickles at your neck, warring with the fear that’s made a home there already. “That’s not what I said, Javi, and you know it.”

“Oh, but it is.” He pulls you tighter, slipping one hand down your shorts to feel your panties. You whimper, trying to get out of his grasp. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, baby. Fucking scared. disgusted”

You freeze against him.

“I don’t want you to be scared, sweetheart,” he coos. He brings the hand that’s not cupping your pussy up to your cheek, brushing away a tear with his thumb. “But your tears are so fucking sweet that I just can’t help myself sometimes.”

You shake as he slowly brings his thumb up to your lips, pressing harder and harder until you’re forced to let him in and taste the salty drop on your tongue.

“I do it for you, baby. You know it’s all for your own good.” He makes your head nod up and down with the hand grasping your chin. “Just gotta keep you safe.”

He pulls his thumb from your mouth, a quiet sob leaving you as he does so. He grasps your hip again and grinds your ass into his erection. “And you don’t even care to show your thanks.” He tuts, and even the mock disappointment in his tone makes you want to crumble and cry. “Thought you were better ‘n that, sweetheart.”

You’re gasping in quiet and shallow breaths at this point, your face heated with shame. You know it’s not him talking, but you can’t help but hate yourself for what he’s telling you. You’re a disappointment. He thought you were better. You’re a screwup to him just like you are for everyone else. The voices and taunts swirl around in your head until you’re so overwhelmed that you have to close your eyes to settle them.

“Stop!” The ferocity in your voice surprises even you. The anger and hurt revealed is raw and visceral, out in the open for him to catch a glimpse of what you’re feeling inside. “Get your hands off me, Javi.”

He chuckles darkly into your hair, his hand now coming to your throat. You swallow thickly and stiffen as he loosely wraps it around your neck, holding you close to him. He doesn’t apply pressure, but it’s enough to make you bite your tongue to stifle anything else that might want to slip out.

“I don’t think you’re really in a position to be demanding things, baby,” he says the words gently. “Why don’t you try asking nicely.”

You blink, and all you can think is that you’re so fucking tired. “Please let me go,” you give in and whisper.

“What was that?” His hand tightens ever so slightly, and then slackens again. You eye his booted foot next to yours, and get the idea to stomp on it, but you know why that’s not a good idea. You speak up.

“I said, please let me—”

He tightens his grip, crushing your windpipe as he holds to the point where you can’t draw a breath. “Thought I fuckin’ told you who was in charge,” his voice comes to your ringing ears. He keeps still as you struggle, even though you’re trying your hardest not to. “Don’t make me have to remind you, sweetheart. I don’t like to see you hurt, but I can’t promise anything if you keep acting so high and fucking mighty.”

He lets you go, and you practically collapse against him. He wraps his arms around you and you lose it.

“Leave me alone, you fucking bastard!” You scream at him with the first breath you can manage, spinning around and backing away as you push and hit at him, trying to get his arms off of you. If you can just get away, maybe you can lock yourself in the bedroom and wait until he’s taken his anger out on something else. You don’t feel bad at all as you claw at him. You manage to get an arm loose and you use it to land a slap to his face. His hold on you loosens the slightest bit, and you use the chance to scramble away even as your stomach drops as you realize what you just did.

You should have known better. It all happens in slow motion as your head comes into contact with the lip of the counter, right by the sink. He’s forced you back around and is now folded over you, using one hand to shove your shorts down and the other to pin the back of your neck down. “Fucking bitch!” he yells into your ear, and you know that you just made this worlds worse for yourself.

You heave wet sobs as he brings his fingers to your bare cunt and roughly shoves two inside, your hips bucking as you try to get away. You’re yelling something as well, something that sounds a lot like ‘stop’, over and over again.

You can’t focus on whatever words are spilling from his mouth now, only on the ringing on your ears and the water sloshing around in the sink only about an inch away from you. A jolt of deeper fear runs through you as you catch the gleam of it, and you scream and cry louder and struggle even harder, trying to do something, anything, before Javi gets the idea that just flashed through your head.

Maybe it was your own fault with all the screaming, or maybe he saw it at the same time you did, but his hand on your neck starts to move higher, until it’s on the back of your head. You resist as much as you can, not even feeling his defiling fingers anymore as your nose touches the soapy water and pieces of your hair grow heavy as they soak it up. You can tell the second you’re going to lose the fight, and you realize that you’ve never been so terrified in your life.

Between the sobs and screams and tears, you don’t get much of a breath before you’re being submerged. Your body flails wildly, and you think in that second that you’re going to die. He’s going to kill you. The terror running through your body is indescribable. You just want to scream but you can’t. You want to close your eyes and go before you lose the small breath you have and water floods your lungs. It feels like a nightmare, like it’s not real, can’t be happening to you. But it is, and you don’t understand why. What the fuck did you do to deserve this?

You push and push up with all your might, using your hands against the counter and your entire body to try to lift your head, but he keeps his hand on top, not letting you breathe the surface no matter what. You feel so pathetic as your body shakes with silent cries that you’re forced to hold in through the panic.

You almost forget about everything else until you feel his cock push inside of you, and you scream. You forget, and upon the burning sensation as he forces himself into you, you open your mouth and take in gulps of water. Your body surges with pain and fear as the burn spreads up to your chest and then to the rest of your body.

This is the end, this is the end, this is the end.

Everything you’ve ever known will be gone. Your family probably won’t even know what happened, won’t care. Nobody will. Maybe Javi will eventually, if he ever comes back. Your vision starts to go black, and your body slackens, your hands falling uselessly as you lose the energy to fight. He’s going to hate himself, you realize. And that thought may hurt you most of all. He’s going to be alone, just like you. You won’t be there to help him. Your Javi is going to be devastated.

That’s the last thing through your mind as your consciousness fades to black.

*****

The end.

******

LMAO JK

Next chapter will be up next Friday 😘

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nerdieforpedro · 1 day

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The Intended determines their Meaning

Javier Gutierrez x plus size female reader

My blog overall is for readers 18+. MDNI

Word Count: 1271

Summary: Javier is following through on what his team has proposed optics wise. He’s bought her flowers to illustrate their partnership. The twist? The events of tonight lead him to follow a different plan altogether.

Warnings: Plots by PR teams, ghosts for dates, angst if you squint, bad jokes (did I write it if there’s not at least one?), Javi G being charming and adorable, honorable mention of Javi G’s orange/red shirt from TUWOMT (the debate of that shirt’s true color continues this very day)

Notes: An entry for @morallyinept ‘s Jett’s Flora & Fauna Challenge. I was surprised to have an idea for it but it turns out chatting with your friends in Discord gets the juices flowing. Plus my wonderful friend Grace came up with the initial idea and we each wrote our own versions. This one is mine. I looked up the meaning of the red peonies Pedro was holding in that shot of him and Dakota Johnson for “The Materialists.” I don’t know the name of the character so this said Javi G to me.

Main Masterlist/ Javier Gutierrez Masterlist

This was supposed to be their third date. She was everything that his PR team said he needed for optics right now. Not too young, an actress that people recognize if they think about it for a minute and she’s thin. It’s not Javier Gutierrez’s first preference, but she was nice and their teams worked well together.

At least he thought she was nice until tonight. It’s an hour after they were supposed to have their date. No calls, no texts, no one from her team saying why she’s not here. He’d bought her an ivory vase with two full bouquets of red peonies in full bloom. He figured it would be a good move to bring these as both teams had agreed to make their relationship public after leaking a few photos on instagram. A curious financially beneficial union that should be a happy life.

Javi’s heart isn’t in this, but he’s beholden to the public eye and their opinions. He’d rather date women that had more substance to them, both to talk about and to them.

He continues to sit and wait, not expecting her to come after this long. Should he just leave? He decides to check his phone one more time before finishing off his third glass of red wine. His eyes gaze forward and he sees her. Not the woman he was expecting, but a woman who he’d truly want.

She’s sitting at a small table that’s a mirror of his, her hair in a updo with small silver clips holding it up. Her dress is a deep violet, off her shoulders with a deep V exposing much of her cleavage. From what he can see, the dress may have an asymmetrical cut as much of her thick legs are exposed. Her face is downcast similar to his. She may have been waiting for someone too. Javi wonders if she was stood up as well.

Hey, I don’t see a second place setting. Is she alone too? Maybe we can be alone together. If she would like, if the woman my team doesn’t want anything to do with me, doesn’t that mean I should find someone I would want to be with?

Javier asks the waiter to give her another glass of whatever she was drinking. It looked like a red wine, he wasn’t sure if it was one different from his. He watched as she looks very confused and is trying to tell the waiter that she didn’t order anything like that.

“Oh no ma’am it’s paid for. The gentleman over there sent it.” The waiter explains and points to Javier. He gives a small wave with a matching smile. She smiles back and waives but almost knocks over her wine glass. Thankfully, she catches it and none of it spills. She laughs at herself and apologizes to the waiter, he looked like he was going to cry as he had his hands raised like he was being robbed.

Well she accepted, I think I’ll go over. Say hello in person. She seems sweet and fun. God, I miss having fun. Dating was supposed to fun at some point.

“You’re too stunning to not have something of equal beauty with you at the table.” Gutierrez leads with as he stands opposite her at the table. “Order what you like hermosa. They’ll let me know the tab. Enjoy yourself.” His wide smile never left his face as she watched him walk over, and hand her a large bouquet of red flowers. They’re not roses, she’s seen them before and just doesn’t remember the name.

“Thank you. For the flowers and the wine.” She stands and Javi takes a step back to see the rest of her: wide stomach and hips with the dress indeed has an asymmetrical cut that goes to the top of her thigh. Across her stomach is a rhinestone butterfly, the tops of the wings cup the bottoms of her breasts as he attempts not to stare. Her lips are a blood orange that reminds him of one of his favorite leisure shirts to wear when he’s home in Spain. Thankfully he was looking at her lips when she spoke so he would pay attention. “I didn’t want to eat alone. Did you want to sit with me? What’s your name?”

“Javier Gutierrez, honored to make your acquaintance. May I know yours cariÃ±o (sweetheart)?” He extends his hand and she shakes it, unsure if it’s the wine or maybe that he just happy he’s not alone and she wants him to sit with her. He pulls out her chair for her to sit and pushes it in as she gives him her name in response. Once he sits, he gets settled and watches as she fixes her napkin back in her lap and takes another sip of her wine. Whispering “perfectoâ€¦” under his breath.

They chat over their shared experience tonight of being stood up. It turns out, hers was a fifth date after a month of seeing each other casually. He had texted, saying he wasn’t going to come and that he would call her. She knew that he’d broken up with her then, but she didn’t want to leave yet. The fresh bread was tasty and so was the wine. Javier simply said that his date did not show up and it likely meant the same as hers, the relationship was over. He wouldn’t get into the PR and logistics, not tonight.

She asked what kind of flowers they were and if it was really okay that she had kept them. Javier insisted, their original intended didn’t deserve them. Not only because she didn’t come but she likely wasn’t going to give him what the flowers truly mean. The other woman had bestowed a more detrimental theme of peonies by standing him up - shame.

“Someone who is willing to leave a person alone like this without explanation, would not give me a happy life.” Javi explains, she agrees and wonders if they have a different meaning for her.

“I don’t know if I can give you a happy life either. We just met Javier.” Her nervous giggle informs him that his explanation may have been a bit serious given how they’ve come together.

“For you bonita (beautiful), the peonies do have a different meaning. I was hesitant to come over to the table. It looked like you were waiting for someone too and I didn’t want to intrude but I also didn’t want to miss an opportunity either.” He asks the waiter for a bottle for the table and their soup arrives with more bread. Javier hands her the butter so she can put it on her bread. “I’m also still nervous that I could mess this up at any point. And please, call me Javi. It's been a while since I’ve met someone I’ve genuinely liked so I’m bashful.”

“Quite the charmer you are, Javi. You’re definitely not messing anything up. You’re not the only one who’s nervous. I’m having a wonderful time and we haven’t even made it to dessert yet!” They both laughed at her attempt at a joke and continued the evening. Chatting, eating, drinking and laughing. Relaxed and without a care for them both.

Javier Gutierrez could just be on a date with a beautiful woman, maybe have a second of third with her. Maybe show her his shirt that’s the same color as her lipstick. Maybe find out what movies she enjoys and if he’s seen them, does she like Nicolas Cage movies? If she does, he may just swoon.

So many things and possibilities.

Debaters of the true color of Javi’s orange/red/dash of yellow shirt 👕: @maggiemayhemnj @magpiepills @tinytinymenace @readingiskeepingmegoing @bitchwitch1981

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@trulybetty @alltheglitterandtheroar @connectioneverywhere @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

#pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #javi gutierrez x plus size reader #jettsflora&faunachallenge #fanfiction #pedro pascal #javi gutierrez #javier gutierrez #javier gutierrez x reader #red peonies

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canadianfangurl-95 · 1 day

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Take Care.

Summary: Frankie and the Triple Frontier guys go to their local bar to get Frankie a date. He decides to pursue the new bartender.

Rating: 18+, minors DNI.

Warning: smut, p in v, oral f receiving

Hey, this is my first time writing in more than a decade and I have been loving everyone's work on here so much I wanted to give it a try. please let me know if you enjoyed or if you have any feedback! Also, I am Canadian so there are definitely some spelling that may be different from American and also some simple things like how in Canada the waitress brings the credit machine to the table instead of taking the card, stuff like that. Anyway, I'm rambling, enjoy!

Word count; 11k+

The dimly lit sign of the bar had a few letters burnt out of it. The green leather booths hadn’t been updated since the place opened 20 years ago. The wood bar had been meticulously cared for and still shone with the polish it received weekly. It was a humble bar, a place for regulars and the odd collection of students who would trickle in from the college 10 miles from there. But that sign laid up against the burnt orange Texan sky made a certain group of ex-military men, trying to find their place back in a world that has very much changed since their time in the service, feel like they could have a few beers and cheers to forget about the worries in their lives.

The four men poured into the bar at their usual time every other Friday night. They were all busy in life right now but made sure they still got together on a regular basis. They would laugh about old times, be each other’s wing men so that at least of them could get lucky from time to time and remind themselves how exceptionally bad Santiago is at pool for someone who is such a sharpshooter in the field.

Benny and Will slid in on opposite sides of their regular spot to meet in the middle on the c shaped booth, followed by Santiago on the right side and Frankie on the left edge, always sitting with his right leg slightly in the aisle to stretch out.

Santiago scanned the room intently, not unusual as this was a habit the four of them had developed during their time in the service, however his face gave Frankie an uneasy feeling when it suddenly met his with a half smirk.

“Okay boys, I know we all like to have our fun on these nights, but tonight we are focusing on Morales alright?” Santiago said firmly to Benny and Will with an outstretched hand pointed at Frankie.

Frankie instantly furrowed his brow at this sudden declaration, “What do you mean focus on me?” He scanned Benny and Wills’ faces to see if they were in on something he wasn’t aware of.

“I mean,” Santiago started, leaning forward on the wood table, his face becoming more illuminated under the low glow of the hanging light pendant above them, “you need to get laid because it has for one, been too damn long, two, you’re shit at talking to women lately and three as your roommate I’m sick of hearing you listen to Alanis Morisette on repeat.” Santiago counted the reasons in his right hand before laying it flat on the table and quirking his left eyebrow up at his friend.

Before Frankie could open his mouth fully, Will interjected pointing lazily in Frankies direction. “He doesn’t need a cheap hookup, Pope. What Frankie needs is a relationship to get back into it. A nice girl that will take care of him.” Will crossed his arms and rested his back gently on the booth as he gave Frankie a reassuring smile.

“Nah, I’m with Pope on this one.” Benny perked up, “One night between the sheets and then he’s back in the streets.” He had a shit eating grin on his face like he always did whenever someone talked about a hook up. Benny being the ladies’ man he is was always down to support his friends getting some.

“Thank you, Benny, someone’s got some sense here.” Santiago tilted his head toward Benny who nodded back.

“Do I get a say in this?” Frankie asked callously, his right hand waived slightly in the air with his question and his other perched underneath his chin as he listened to his friends dive into the dampness that is his love life.

“No.” all three men said in unison with a quick glance at him. He gave a huff and watched as they all returned to a conversation he was seemingly excluded from.

“Now I’m not saying he doesn’t need someone to take care of him, I’m just saying he needs someone to take, care, of him you know what I mean?” Santiago winked and dragged out a select few words to make his point.

“Ohh yeah.” Benny slyly chimed in.

Will pulled his shoulders off the back of the booth and shifted his body toward Santiago who instantly felt his lecture being prepared, “No, no he needs someone to take care of him in more ways than just physically. He needs be taken care of emotionally as well.”

The three men spurred into a loud retort of their opinions, hands waving back and forth towards Frankie as he looked at the fishing painting laden behind Bennys head that he’s seen a hundred times before. Frankie knows he hasn’t been in a relationship or even had a hook up in almost a year. He had finalized his divorce 3 years ago and since then he hasn’t had much luck with women, so he lost interest in trying. The dating apps were getting routine as well. Some girl in her twenties he had nothing in common with and couldn’t even tolerate enough to get through a one night stand was pretty typical.

They were all so distracted in their own nonsense they didn’t notice when she suddenly appeared at the edge of the table with her notepad and pen in hand. After a quiet hello and no interest from the men she brazenly tapped her pen on the table between them and they all stopped mid-sentence to turn and look at her with the same taken aback expression on their faces.

“Hi, um, sorry to interrupt, I’m Sadie and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.” She said with a weary smile to the group of ridiculously good-looking men.

All four men looked at her face, tan and freckled with a wide smile that lit up her green eyes. Beautiful amber red hair that fell loosely down her back with a slight curl. And then down to her white tank crop top, short black waitress apron tied around her hips with a few highlighters and a bottle cap opener tucked in over light wash flare legged ripped jeans. Finishing off the look with red cowboy boots, close enough of a colour to match her hair.

Their heads immediately snapped back to one another’s and then back at hers as she sheepishly waited their response. Frankie pulled the hand that had been resting under his chin down to his lap with an interested look.

Santiago shifted in his seat, turning on his heart winning smile as an idea grew behind his eyes. “Sadie, you said?”

She smiled and nodded back to him, holding her pen to her paper now. Expecting to take his order next. But Santiago was never known to be predictable.

He slid his left elbow to rest on the top of the booth and angled himself toward her. The three other men shared a quick glance at each other, unsure where he was going with this interaction.

“I’ve never seen you here before, when did you start?”

“It will be two weeks tomorrow actually.” She responded with a pleasant smile.

“Huh, how long have you been bartending?” He asked.

She pursed her lips to think and squinted as she replied, “About 5 years. But I just do it to pay for my schooling.” Her hair flowed on her shoulder, and she brushed the piece on her left side onto her back, revealing more of her perfectly tanned and freckled skin under the bright white top.

Santiago raised his eyebrows at this information, egging him on to continue the conversation. “What are you in school for?”

“I’m getting my master’s in child psychology through an online university.” Sadie replied with a confident smile, clearly prideful of her career choice.

Santiago pressed on, “Wow that is amazing. Good for you, where were you working before you came here?”

With a huff she shrugged, “I was just at this one chain restaurant across town. But I didn’t get good tips there and as my education is ridiculously expensive, I decided to make a change.”

“What brought you to our little slice of paradise?” Santiago quipped with a charming smile.

Frankie watched as his friend went back and forth with the beautiful bartender. She wasn’t Santiagos typical type, so he was skeptical on what his motive to have this lengthy of a conversation with her was. Not that Frankie was minding as he was as intrigued with this woman as Santiago seemed to be.

She hummed; she was surprisingly pleased with the actual interest in her. But she knew the type, the charmer. Luckily, she knew exactly how to deal with a charmer in her years in the bartending industry. Get them to blink first.

“My friend actually used to work here for a few months. She said that there are so many regulars that you get the opportunity to get to know people and then they start taking care of you and tipping well.” Sadie spoke confidently, knowing she had the attention of these men and thought now would be a good time to turn the tables. “Plus, and her words not mine,” she waived her hands casually, still holding the pen and notepad in her right hand. “She said if you have a great ass you’ll get great tips. So, here I am.” She chuckled.

Frankie, Benny and Will all blushed briefly, but Santiago stayed with his eyes firm on the target.

“So, you’re saying you have a great ass?” he quickly retorted.

“I guess that will be decided on how good your tip is.” She leaned forward slightly, not breaking eye contact with the man until he finally broke and turned his head with a chuckle.

“Do you say that to all your customers to get a better tip?”

Sadie smiled, “Only if I’m sure they’ll fall for it.”

Damn, Frankie thought. Smart, quick, and funny. He’s concerned Santiagos interest is more peaked than he thought and now he’s the one who’s been sitting idly by while his best friend flirts with one of the most perfect women he’s ever met.

Santigo laughed this jab off and turned to look at the boys. All of whom had an approving look on their faces of the verbal joust they just witnessed between their cocky friend and the new bartender.

When he turned back to her, smile still brazen on his face, he said “We’ll get two pitchers of Corona. We’ll do four by the end of the night so each of us will take one on our bills.”

She wrote down the order, and then looked up and asked, “What can I put down for names on the bills?”

“Santi, that’s Will, Benny and Frankie.” Santiago smiled while gesturing to the guys around the table. “I’ll take one of these on mine.”

“I’ll take the other.” Will raised his hand and smiled when she nodded at him.

“Alright,” she penned in her notepad. “Santi, Will, Benny and Frankie. Will do you ever go by Willy or Billy?” she asked with a soft look.

Will sat up straighter, chuckling slightly. “Uh, no not really. Why?”

“Oh, I just thought if you did then all your names would rhyme, and you could be a fun boy band with rhyming names that’s all.” She said with a giggle. The guys all laughed and tried to convince Will it would be a good change. To which he shook his head.

Sadie stole a quick glance at Frankie whose eyes hadn’t left her for much of the conversation. Not that she minded, his deep brown eyes and curly hair pushing itself out from underneath his baseball hat were cute. She is accustomed daily to lingering glances of men, but this one made her breath catch slightly before speaking again.

“Well then, two pitchers of Corona and one opportunity to check out my ass without judgement coming right up.” She crossed a line on the note pad and turned swiftly towards the bar. Hips swinging a little more than she’d like to admit.

All the men graciously took their opportunity and turned their heads slightly to catch a sight of her walking away.

Santiago turned quickly to the group, “Guys, she’s the one.”

“The one?” Benny asked, arms folded over his chest and leaned back as far as he could. Trying to get comfortable as the biggest guy in the booth.

“Yes, the one we were just talking about. For Frankie.” Santiago gestured to his friend who perked his eyebrows up at the new thought that Santiago wasn’t interested in Sadie at all. “It can go both ways, he could either have a great hook up with a hot bartender and then just keep a professional relationship with her here if there’s nothing more to it, or he could get into a relationship with a great, smart, nice and competent girl.”

Frankie adjusted himself in his seat. “What if it went South and she was pissed at me. Then all we have is a bartender at our favourite spot spitting in our pitchers.” He didn’t think she’d be the type, but he was also incredibly nervous by Santiagos proposition.

They all took a beat, taking in this possible outcome. They looked over at Sadie at the bar. She was pouring a tall beer for a woman and chatting in a bubbly and infatuating way. She reached below the bar and tossed a coaster onto the top. She placed the beer on top of the coaster and slid it over to the customer with a bright smile. The men all watched as she flung her hair over her back and gathered it loosely in her right hand while she fanned her face with her left, seemingly making a comment about the heat behind the bar with the warm lights above her. Her skin shone and her eyes squinted slightly as she talked, moistening her lips as she listened to her coworker.

Santiago turned back to the group, “Yeah, I think that’s worth the risk buddy. At least it would be for me.” A devilish grin wiping his face.

Frankie’s gaze didn’t waver from her. He observed her low neckline that curved on her plush chest. The way her tan stomach peaked out below her top showing off her belly button ring. The tattoos on various parts of her body that he would love to get a closer look of, or taste.

He adjusted himself slightly before making eye contact with Santiago. “Alright, I’m in.” They all cheered, and Benny patted him on the back. “But I don’t even know where to start man.”

“That’s why you have me, don’t sweat it okay.” Santiago dove into his seemly well thought out plan considering he only met Sadie a mere minutes ago. “When she brings the drinks back, we’ll get her talking again, make sure you actually contribute this time.” He gave a pointing glare to his friend, which made Frankie shrug his shoulders slightly, making him appear a bit smaller. “And then about 20 minutes later, you go over to the bar, order some food, and strike up a conversation. We’ll see where we’re at after that.”

The three men nodded at this suggestion. Frankie was suddenly never more nervous for his beer to arrive. Ironically, he needed the beer to make him able to go through with this. He hasn’t felt this nervous around a woman in longer than he can remember.

Benny and Will started into their typical conversation about Ben’s upcoming fight. They all loved Benny’s hobby. It provided them with great entertainment and an opportunity to get into the ring themselves during his training to get out a bit of frustrations. Will was just diving into the schedule and reminding the guys when they needed to check in as security detail when Sadie appeared from the bar with two pitchers in one hand four beer mugs in the other and 4 coasters tucked into the strap of her tank top.

“Whoa, incoming.” Santiago said as he cleared his phone and wallet off the table to make room.

Sadie carefully placed the two pitches down before grabbing the coasters from her strap and tossing them down one by one in front of the men. She then sat each glass atop the coasters and put her hands on her hips with a huff.

“Well then, and they say bartending isn’t a physical job.” A thanks coming round the table from each of the men. “Can I take care of anything else for you right now?”

Before the group was able to speak a rowdy bunch of college boys pushed themselves through the door and stumbled to a table nearby. Sadie rolled her eyes at the sight.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asked, earning him an approving look from Santiago.

“Yeah, it’s just the college kids that come in here can get really annoying and handsy. It’s fine though, better than dealing with men who probably have daughters the same age as me asking what time I get done my shift.” She looked somewhat deflated at the reality of her job, that it wasn’t all pouring drinks and chatting with nice handsome men.

The guys all looked at each other, they had spent plenty of time with guys like that in the service. The one’s who would try to take up skirt shots of the waitresses when they would go out as a group. It made them apologetic for their gender.

“Sucks, sorry about that.” Benny finally rang out on behalf of the group.

She just gave a half smile, her eyes a little dimmer than before as she mentally prepared to go over and get their orders.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about anything like that tonight. We’ll keep an eye on them. This guy right here,” Frankie threw a hand on Ben’s shoulder, “is a big MMA fighter and the rest of us do security for him at the fights. If they get out of hand, I’m sure we can take care of them.”

Sadie lifted her head a little higher, impressed by the apparent knight in shining armor sitting to her left, ready to take care of her. “Hm, thanks Frankie. I’ll keep you- that, that in mind.” She stammered, before retreating over to the table with the college boys. Head held a little higher knowing she wouldn’t have to call one of the cooks from the back to throw a guy out like she’s had to do twice already at her new place of work.

Frankie watched intently, keeping an eye on the three college guys while they gawked at Sadie and her uncomfortably smiling back at them. Finally breaking attention when Santiago snaps his fingers at him.

“That was perfect buddy. A little damsel in distress and hero thing going on. She thinks she needs you to take care of her, very well played.”

“I wasn’t playing her; it sucks she has to deal with that shit at work and I wanted her to know that she could relax a bit tonight.”

“Fair enough, either way. I think she’s starting to like you. Which brings us to our next stage of the plan.” He rubbed his palms together with a devilish grin. Benny and Will chuckled at the commitment their friend had to his masterful plan. If he had a whiteboard available right now, he would’ve done a whole chart of each move he wanted Frankie to make.

“Why use our poor excuse of security work as an example and not oh I don’t know, our years in the military?” Will asked with his head cocked.

Frankie finished pouring his drink and hummed, “I’ll tell her, just a uh- topic of conversation for later.” He finally grinned, not wanting to reveal too much to her so he would have something to talk to her about later.

Half an hour later, the men had been nursing their beers in an effort to prevent an unplanned visit from Sadie if she noticed they needed a refill. All the while she stole glances to the booth wherever she was and with whomever she was talking to. Frankie saw her hold her position behind the bar long enough without anyone else talking to her and decided it was his opportunity to have another talk with her.

He slinked up from his seat in the booth, with his friend’s encouragement and walked over to the bar. She was illuminated by low hanging lights and beer company signs. There were bottles of liquor along the wall behind her and stacks of glasses of all sorts of shapes and sizes.

“Hey,” she beamed at him when he leaned against the counter. “Can I help you with anything?”

Frankie calmed his nerves the best he could, wiping a bit of peanut dust off the bar in front of him. “Yeah, uh we were actually just wondering if we could get an order of the nachos for the table.”

She blushed, slightly embarrassed, “Oh sorry I guess I haven’t checked in on you guys in a while.”

“No, no it’s fine. You’re obviously busy tonight.”

Sadie smiled at his consideration and moved over to the computer. “Well, still sorry about that. But I promise I’ll take care of you now.” She worked quickly on the computer and then looked up at him. “Whose tab should I put it on?”

“Uhm,” He looked over his shoulder at his friends, and snickered at Santiago briefly. “Put it on Pope’s tab.”

“Pope?” she looked back puzzled.

“Shit, sorry, Santi.”

She nodded, finishing the order. “Those will be out in about 15 minutes.”

“Great, thanks.” Frankie tapped his hands on the bar, unsure how to keep this conversation going.

She grabbed a washcloth and spray and started cleaning up a spill on the counter below her. “So, Frankie” Her thought was stopped abruptly by the sound of a group in the corner cheering and clinking their beer mugs. She chuckled to herself at the interruption. “Since you guys aren’t a boy band, how did y’all meet?”

There’s that topic of conversation he was waiting for. “We all served together, in the military.” He said causally.

Sadie lifted her eyebrows, clearly impressed by the new information about these lovely strangers she’d just met. “Wow, well thank you for your service I guess.” They shared a smile. “Is that where Santis nickname comes from?”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s Pope, Will is iron head, and I’m uh- Catfish. Fish for short.” He nodded away shyly.

“That’s so cool. It’s nice to see you’re all still so close. But wait, what’s Bennys nickname?”

Frankie rubbed his chin; thankful she didn’t immediately dive into the reason for his nickname. “He actually doesn’t have one. He came up the ranks a little later than the rest of us and the nicknames had already been dealt out so, a bit of an oversight by us.”

“Huh,” she simmered in his explanation briefly. “So, what do you do now?”

“I was a pilot when I was in active duty so now, I’m an instructor for the base in the next town over.” He loved telling women he was a pilot; it was something a step above what everyone else did during their time in the service, so it made him feel a little special.

She clearly thought he was special too, as she stopped cleaning to put one hand on her hip where her jeans were a little too low and her shirt was a little too high. How Frankie wanted to feel how soft she must be in that spot as he stared at her hand. “That’s really cool Frankie. It must be amazing being up there and in control of it all.”

“It is, I really enjoy flying. I could uh, take you up sometime in a helicopter if you’d like.”

“Oh Frankie, I don’t make good enough tips here that I could afford a private helicopter tour.” She laughed, grabbing some glasses to clean.

“No, it wouldn’t, I wouldn’t charge you anything. I bring friends up all the time.” He stated, hoping to not sound too forward.

She peered up at him through her eyelashes, interested in his forwardness. “So, I would qualify for the friend discount then? Didn’t you just meet me an hour ago?” Sadie blushed, she liked the thought of being Frankies friend, or more.

“Would you believe I’ve always made friends fast?” He asked, “On my first day of basic Santi picked me out of the crowd, sat right down next to me because I looked the quietest of the group and he didn’t want to deal with all the typical macho army guys. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

Sadie looked down at the counter she was cleaning and thought for a moment. “Well, I’m so busy right now my best friend is pretty much my mom so making a new friend wouldn’t be so bad now that I think of it.”

Frankie started to respond, but one of Sadie’s coworkers came behind the bar and asked her to talk to the manager as they needed to see her.

“Alright I’ll be right there. I’ll get those nachos out to you as soon as they’re ready Frankie.”

Before he could say anything, she retreated to the back area for employees with a smile in his direction.

Frankie returned to his friends and slid into the booth. “So, how’d it go?” Santiago pressed.

“Good, the nachos will be out in like, 10 minutes.” Frankie said casually, sipping on his beer.

Santiago looked around breathlessly before sputtering, “I don’t give a damn about the nachos.”

Benny raised his hand, “I uh, actually do give a damn about the nachos.” Always ready to eat a full meal no matter the time of day.

“Fish, how did it go with Sadieee.” He elongated her name to accentuate how visibly annoyed he is about his friend’s slack attitude.

Frankie and Benny chuckled to themselves, “It was good man alright. She’s nice. I told her about us serving together, the nicknames came up, offered her a ride in a helicopter. You know, casual stuff.” He looked to the Millers who nodded along. Frankie was trying his best not to seem too excited, because truthfully, he was already developing a big crush just from the few interactions with her.

Santiago tilted his head at his unsuspecting friend. “You invited her for a helicopter ride? The second time you talked to her.”

Frankie shrugged, “Yeah, it just came up. Girls like that stuff. She thought it was cool when I told her about it so, I don’t know.” His nervousness grew with the line of questioning.

“What happened to leaving it open for a one-night stand?”

“It still can be, or maybe it could be something real. I’d prefer the latter but, we’ll see I guess.”

Santiago leaned back in his seat, unsure where to go in his plan based on this new information. He stewed for a few minutes while the guys went back into conversation.

His train of thought was cut when Sadie appeared and placed the nachos on the table. “Here you go, I’ll be right back with some plates.”

She returned and placed the plates on the table, she then unexpectedly pulled a water bottle out of her apron and pulled a chair up to the front of the booth to sit down from a nearby table.

The group looked with surprise at the sudden guest at their table. Frankie thanked the stars that they asked for the nachos when they did.

“Sorry to interrupt but I am finally on a break, and I just found out that the other closer for the night was the girl that called in today.” She took a sip from her water before proceeding. “So that means I am closing by myself and something that typically takes 30 minutes is going to take an hour. Yay me, and I don’t really have any interest in sitting in that dreary break room right now to wallow in my self-pity for how late I am going to get home tonight.”

“Hey, it’s no problem, more the merrier.” Will leaned in to cheer her with his beer and her water bottle.

“So, the nick name thing. I have multiple questions.” She started.

The group of men laughed, “Okay what you got.” Santiago asked.

“Pope, where the hell did that come from, because from my slight interactions with you, I would personally point you towards a more Southern direction in that aspect.” She touched her hands to her chest and laughed along with Santiago.

“I gave a lot of speeches back in the day and really laid on my so-called wisdom a little thick which ended up earning me the title.” He shrugged with his laugh and pulled his beer up to his lips, without breaking eye contact.

“Huh, interesting. And Benny,” she suddenly turned her attention to the younger man over to her left who pointed at himself cautiously. “No nick name. That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Don’t even get me started,” he leaned forward. The rest of the men groaned, apparently hearing this over and over again. “I totally got shafted on that.”

Sadie propped her right hand under her chin leaning forward. Frankie at his angle could see a side view of her cleavage and realized he needed to drop his glance quickly before she noticed. “Well, what would your nick name be if you could choose one now?”

Without hesitation Benny beamed with excitement. “Oh, I have been thinking about this for a damn long time. If I could pick my name, it would be Steel Heart.”

She looked at him puzzled, “Steel Heart?” he nodded confidently. “Because your brother is Iron Head and you what, steal women’s hearts?”

“Bingo.” Benny grinned shooting her a finger gun and a wink, clearly enjoying his moment.

The rest of the group looked at each other and revealed in Bennys excitement.

“Seriously man?” Will questioned.

“Oh, because Iron Head is so damn cool?”

“Well, yeah I mean it is.” Will said, shrugging against his brother who was giving him an annoyed look.

“What about you hermosa what would your nick name be?” Frankie asked Sadie softly. Her eyes flicked to him, and he felt his heart skip a beat. She brushed her hair behind her left ear and put her mouth to her shoulder to meet his eyes. They stared at each other for a moment while she contemplated the question.

She finally turned back to the group from the little bubble she and Frankie had been enjoying themselves in. “Oh, I don’t think I can answer that right now, that’s too big of a decision. Check back in next time I see you and maybe I’ll have an idea.” She smirked at him, very much hoping there would be a next time she saw him.

Frankie nodded, accepting this answer, and soaking in the attention he got from her. He wanted to know what it was like to have his mouth on her shoulder like she had just done. He thought about pulling her strap down with his teeth and running his mouth along her soft shoulder up to her neck as she gasped for more -.

“Fish!”

Frankie looked frantically, realizing he had completely zoned out and missed whatever just happened. He’s praying he had at least let his eyes fall to table and not leave them on Sadie’s shoulder the whole time. Will leaned over, “Fish did you hear me?”

“No, sorry I must’ve zoned out for a second, what’s up?” He squinted his eyes trying to pay attention as the group smirked at his lack of attention.

Will continued, “Sadie asked where Catfish came from, I said you should be the one to answer that.” He winked.

Frankie slouched down, there goes that relief. “I had a hard time growing facial hair when I was what, twenty-three. Anyway, they said it looked like catfish whiskers.” He slumped further down and tried to avoid the gaze of Sadie. While the guys chuckled at their long-standing joke. She leaned over and put a hand on his arm with a squeeze. She could tell he was uncomfortable and didn’t like the story.

“Hey, it’s okay. Your facial hair is pretty cute now and that’s all that matters.” Sadie missed the glances of the other men as they enjoyed the moment their friend was having with the girl they were trying to set him up with all night. She winked and lingered her glance at the man now blushing.

Frankies eyes burned into her with want and desire, she felt herself flutter suddenly and a warmness grew in her gut as she thought about how long her hand has been on his arm. She pulled away and tucked her hand under her chin, trying to cover how flushed she felt her chest becoming.

Ruining the moment, the group of college boys had started making more noise and gesturing to her. She sat up straight in her seat and grabbed her water bottle. “Well, I’d say that’s my cue to get back to it.” She huffed.

Sadie stood back up and adjusted her apron on her hips. “Thanks for the distraction guys, want me to get you those next pitchers?”

They all nodded with half smiles as she went back to the bar to drop off her water bottle. She then slowly strutted over to the table the college guys were sitting at and stood with her back to the men in the booth.

“Hey guys can I help you with anything?” Sadie asked cautiously, scratching her scalp with the back of her pen and doing whatever she could not to make eye contact with the insufferable boys who were obviously checking her out.

The boys shuffled and stifled their laughs, the one sitting to the right of Sadie had a backwards hat on and blonde hair peeking out. He wore a crisp new white t shirt and his hands had clearly never seen a day of work in his life. “Yeah, we were just wondering which one of those guys over there is your boyfriend?” He nodded back to the booth Frankie and the guys were sitting in.

Sadie looked over her shoulder briefly and then back at the guy whose eyes were like daggers. “I’m sorry?”

“Well, you’ve been paying them an awful lot more amount of attention than you’ve been giving us, so I just assumed one of them was your boyfriend.” He shrugged with a mischievous smile.

She could tell his intentions were not sincere, so she played his little game in hopes she could move on quickly. “Uh, yeah sorry, my boyfriend is over there with his friends, so I was checking in during my break. So, do you need a refill or any food before the kitchen closes?” She tucked her head down toward her notepad to deflect his eyes.

“Which one?”

“Hm?” Her eyebrows almost touched the base of her nose with how low she pulled them at his question.

“Which one is your boyfriend?” He nodded towards the group again and rubbed his chin with a sly smile. The other two boys chuckled into their fists at the interaction.

Sadie pulled her head up, getting more annoyed by the second. She looked over her shoulder again and caught Frankies’ eyes who seemed to be fixed on the group. “The one with the hat.” She said, trying to be as casual as possible.

The guy looked back at Frankie whose eyes didn’t leave the table despite his friends engaging in conversation again. Frankie could see the smugness radiating off this guy and didn’t trust to take his eyes off him for a second.

He turned back to give his buddies a smug look and they smiled along with him. “He looks like the jealous type.”

She pulled her lips tight, “Yeah I guess so.” Her uncomfortableness grew by the second. Why do they always have so much shit to say she thought to herself. She thought back to Frankie and the guys and made a mental note to write down that order of pitchers she almost forgot about when she was lost in Frankies brown eyes.

“So uh, he wouldn’t really like this then.” With one swift motion he took Sadie’s right wrist and began to pull her down to sit on his lap. She huffed with shock but before she was able to push herself off him a loud voice thundered from behind.

“Hey! Get your damn hands off her!”

The kid jumped in his skin and pushed her up before looking back to see Frankie standing up beside the booth, the three other men’s attention turned as well but more in shock of Frankies abrupt reaction. The boy threw his hands up near his face, clearly shocked by the reaction of Frankie. He was obviously trying to get some sort of reaction, but he was now fearing he was about to be dragged outside by this furious pit-bull of a man who was baring his teeth.

Sadie turned her shocked look from Frankie back to the guy. She smoothed out her apron and drew her head high. “What he fucking said!” She pointed at Frankie as her voice grew towards the boy. “I’ll get your bills.” She huffed and stormed off towards the bar.

Frankie gave the kid one last look of disgust before Benny had him settled back into his seat.

“Okay down boy it’s fine.” Santiago tried to reassure his friend who was still fuming in his seat. “Well, I’d say you definitely have her attention now, I’ll take care of this. You two just make sure he doesn’t go all bull in a China shop in here alright?” Santiago nodded at the Millers who did their best to calm their friend.

Santiago slipped out of the booth and peeked at Sadie behind the bar. Her back was to them, working on the bills for the pricks at the table he is now approaching. The three boys watched him approach them, settling deep into their chairs. He leaned forward between two of them and rested his hands firmly on the edge of the table.

“Listen, I’m not gonna let me buddy there beat the shit out of you, which yes, he could easily do. But just take this moment as an opportunity to grow, you know, learn something and do better next time. Maybe don’t sexually harass bartenders anymore, or anyone for that matter. And definitely don’t intentionally piss off an ex special ops soldier, got it?” They looked at him with side eyes, fearing they may turn to stone if they made direct eye contact with him. He nodded and pulled his hands away, not before leaning in one last time and whispering, “Oh, and you better fucking tip good.” He winked, and the boys nodded.

Santiago sauntered back to the booth just as Sadie wrapped up her computer work and turned to go back to the table. She grabbed a debit machine and marched over with her head held high. She did her best to ignore the agonizing stir Frankies little outburst had given her, and how badly she wanted to show him how much she appreciated it.

The guys watched as she closed off their bills, giving them icy stares and barely acknowledging their existence. The whole time they creepily snuck a peak at the four men all staring with daggers in their eyes as they waited for the three to leave.

Once they were paid up, they said their meek thanks to Sadie, who responded with a cold, “Yeah whatever.” and made their way out of the bar.

Frankie relaxed a bit once he saw the guys leave, but he relaxed even more when Sadie appeared with a tray carrying two pitchers and a small glass.

“Alright, here’s those two pitchers, on Benny and Frankies tabs.” She said as she settled the pitchers in the middle of the table. “And one,” she grabbed the small glass that seemed to be a rum and coke. “thank you, on the house.” She leaned forward and placed the glass in front of Frankie before making eye contact with him and leaning in to rest a small kiss on his cheek. Frankies eyes fell to her mouth, and he wished she had closed the gap. He smiled and said thanks before she pulled away and went back to the bar.

The men all turned to Frankie, eyes wide at his interaction.

“Buddy, that is what I’m talking about.” Santiago cheered.

Benny and Will also showed their celebration as Frankie took a sip of his new drink.

“Now, I’ve been thinking about your closing move alright? She said she doesn’t have any help to close the bar down right?”

Frankie nodded at Santiago, agreeing with this statement.

“Well, there’s your in. Offer to stay and help her close. You and her alone in the empty bar for half an hour. Talk, make sure you show you’re interested. Graze your hand on her hip when you squeeze past her behind the bar. Stuff like that, and then boom once all the work is done. Close the deal.” He clapped his hands together and leaned forward with excitement. He hasn’t been more focused on a target in years.

Frankie nodded and agreed to this proposition. He sat in silence for a while as the other men talked and thought about how his cheek felt after Sadie kissed it. How it would feel to have that same softness grace his lips. Her hair smelt like lavender when she got that close to him, and he wanted nothing more than to grab the back of her head and lead her to his lips.

The night wore on without incident. Finally, Sadie came to the table with bills in hand and her machine. She started with Santiago, keying in his total and passing the machine to him while she chatted with the others about how sore her feet were from walking all night. Santiago passed the machine back to her and she watched as the receipt filed out. She pulled it from the machine without looking at the content and held it to her chest.

“Alright, moment of truth. Does Santi think I have a great ass?” She indicated to the boys with a nod that she needed a drum roll. The three men kindly obliged and started drumming their fingers on the table, Santiago rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the top of the booth. With a beat she pulled the receipt up to her face and dropped it with an open mouth smile on her face. “He does!”

They all cheered enthusiastically, except for Santiago who waved his hands conceding.

Sadie moved on to Will, and upon pulling his receipt through commented, “Hm, Will is more of a boob guy, good to know.” She smirked at him, and Benny smacked his shoulder with a full body laugh.

“Whoa, whoa that is not fair.” He laughed.

Sadie grinned and started keying in Bennys order. “I’m just kidding you, Willy.” She looked up and winked. He leaned back in his seat with a gapped expression, finding the interaction humorous of course. “I gotta joke a little bit otherwise jobs like this eat you alive.”

They all hummed in response, recalling all the pranks and jokes they used to get into in the service. No matter the circumstances, they still found a way to keep their head straight through some humor.

Sadie finished up all the bills, thanking Frankie with a gushing smile for his overzealous tip.

“Well, it was really nice to meet you all. I hope to take care of you all again soon.” She smiled and the guys said their thanks and started piling out of the booth.

Santiago patted his friend on back, “Aright buddy this is it. Good luck, I hope it works out however would make you the happiest.”

Frankie gave his friends an assuring nod before doing a quick jog to catch up with Sadie as she moved back to the bar.

“Hey Sadie?”

She turned, surprised and pleased that Frankie wasn’t following his friends out the door. “Hey Frankie, what’s up?”

Frankie rubbed his hands on his faded jeans, trying to calm himself once more. “Are you still closing by yourself tonight?”

“Yeah, unfortunately. The kitchen left an hour ago and the manager and other bartender will be leaving in a few minutes. Why?”

“Well, I uh, I don’t have any place to be, so I was wondering if you wanted some help?” he said cautiously.

She eyed him through squinted lids and looked at him up and down. Worn out baseball hat that probably hasn’t left his head in decades over curly brown hair. A tight grey T-shirt under a loose flannel shirt. Light jeans that probably didn’t start out that way but have been worn in the sun too long and washed too many times. He seemed harmless enough and he’s treated her well so far tonight, in fact so well she had started finding herself walking by him just to ensure he could catch a glimpse of her through the night.

“So, you want to stay late and help me clean, because you have nowhere else to be?” She asked with a pointed look.

He swallowed deep, “Yeah I just thought you would like the help and maybe the company.” He tried his best to sound light, meanwhile his ears with ringing with nervousness.

She took a beat to think once more, “So you’d help me clean and then we would both get to our own beds at a decent time tonight, right?” She emphasized “own”.

He nodded in agreement, “Sure, of course.”

Sadie started back behind the bar again and Frankie followed like a dog chasing a bone. “Alright Fish, you stay put here and once everyone else is gone we’ll get started.” With that she disappeared behind the employee entrance door.

Frankie sat at the bar by himself for 20 minutes, watching as the other customers exited slowly and as the rest of the staff said their goodnights to Sadie and then retreated to the employee entrance. It was 1:15am when she locked the door and closed the shades to the front windows.

She sauntered over to him, her cowboy boots clicking as she walked. She ran her finger from shoulder to shoulder on Frankies back. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up at the sensation. “Let’s get cleaning Mr. Helpful.”

Over the course of the next thirty minutes, they did just that. They cleaned and restocked the bar, all while recounting vacation stories, and childhood memories. Sadie talked about how she had gone into finance right out of high school and found it unfulfilling so she decided to go back to school in her late twenties to do something she could be proud of. Frankie talked of his friendship with the guys and although they had to go through terrible times to all be together, they were all still thankful they had the opportunity because now they have each other.

All the while Frankie kept Santiagos notes tucked away in head. He would graze his hand on hers when she would pass him something. He held her waist in place as he scooted behind her at the bar. He brushed her hair off her face when her hands were in rubber gloves doing dishes. Each time he had a physical interaction with her she felt that familiar burning sensation she had felt when Frankie had yelled at that prick that got handsy with her. She caught herself staring at his lips as he spoke and trying to position herself in a way that they would have to have some sort of physical contact. She couldn’t even understand why she was doing it all. She just wanted him to want her so badly.

Frankie finished his half of the cleaning list and approached Sadie who was at the pool table. She was leaned over wiping down the last part of the wood finished edges. He held his gaze on her ass and admired how plump it looked in her tight jeans. He shook his head to throw the devilish thoughts out of it and met her eyes when she turned to look at him.

“Well, that’s that. Thank you for all the help.” She threw the cloth into a bucket on the floor and leaned against the pool table with her arms crossed.

He took a few steps in and placed his left hand on the pool table beside her, resting some of his weight on it. “It was no problem hermosa. I had fun.” He smiled at her.

She squinted her eyes slightly, “That’s the second time you’ve called me that. What does it mean?”

He looked her up and down shyly, “Beautiful.” He said softly, meeting her eyes with an intense gaze.

She inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling in an extremely noticeable way. Frankie grinned at this as he checked out her cleavage quickly. She looked down at her feet for a moment, trying to determine the best way to respond to such a compliment. She lifted her head back up at him and asked, “Do you call all your friends beautiful?”

Frankie shrugged, shifting his weight slightly. “No,” he paused “Just you, and Benny of course.” He chuckled.

She rolled her head back with her laugh, “Well I don’t blame you; he is VERY pretty.” She grinned back at him.

“Truthfully though,” he leaned in slightly, trying to gage her physical response. “I’m not sure I still want to be your friend. I think I may want a little more than that.”

Sadie felt herself flush, “Well would I still get the discount on the helicopter rides?” she asked softly, intensifying her gaze.

He leaned in further, staring at her lips as he spoke. “Of course, it also comes with lots of other perks too.”

“Hm, like what?” She tilted her head up, catching a glimpse of him moistening his lips as she spoke.

“Like this.” He leaned in fully and latched his mouth onto hers.

It was a soft kiss, not wanting to read too much into things. She didn’t pull away, but he was still unsure if she was just being friendly. He broke the kiss and pulled his face away a few inches to look at her. She unfolded her arms and grazed one finger along his jaw line.

“That seems like a pretty good perk, but you said there’d be lots right?” She lowered her eyebrows and parted her lips, meeting his gaze.

He smirked and stepped into her, placing his hands on her hips as hers moved around his neck. They both opened their mouths for one another and deepened the kiss. It was hungry and passionate. He ran his hands over the exposed skin on her lower back and moaned at the warmth. Sadie glided her right hand around the curls at the top of Frankies neck and slid her left up and down his chest.

Frankie moved his hands lower to grab her plush thighs and in a swift motion hoisted her up to be seated on the edge of the pool table. She parted her legs for him, and he stood flush with her chest heaving against his.

She pulled away to start planting desperate kisses on his neck and he rubbed his hands on her ass through her tight jeans as she made her way up to swirl her tongue around in his left ear. He moaned at the feeling and her deep breathing in his ear. He ducked his head, and she pulled back so he could slot his mouth on hers again. He pulled her closer, so her aching core was pressed up against his stiff boner in his jeans. She gasped at the sensation of feeling how hard he was, and he revealed in the warmth radiating off her.

Frankie pulled off to start kissing down her neck. He moved the hair off her left shoulder with his hand as he nipped at her supple skin. He made his way down to her shoulder and groaned at how soft she was against his lips, better than he had imagined earlier. He nipped at her and grabbed the thin white strap with his teeth to pull it over and off to hang on her arm. He licked a stripe from the top of her shoulder up her neck and brought his hand up to palm her breast.

Sadie moaned and smiled with her eyes closed. “Okay, okay Frankie.” He pulled his head up to meet her eyes. “I just started here two weeks ago, and while I haven’t had the opportunity to read the employee handbook yet, I am fairly positive there will be something in there along the lines of don’t fuck the customers on the pool table.” He grinned at her and placed a kiss on her forehead. “So, why don’t we just go back to my place?”

He hummed, “I don’t know, didn’t you say something about ending up in our own beds tonight?” He emphasized own as she had done earlier.

She rolled her eyes, “Well I guess I’ve been persuaded otherwise.”

He reached his hand up and pulled the strap of her top back onto her shoulder, grazing his finger down her arm to rest his hand on the edge of the pool table. “Alright, well let’s get going then, because I’ve still got lots of perks to show you.” He popped his eyebrows up and gave her a knowing smile.

The energy between the two was electric as he helped her slide down the pool table back onto the floor. She took his hand and led him to the back to slip out of the employee entrance, locking the door as she left. They walked hand in hand to her red car. Based on the boots and the car, he was beginning to figure out her favourite colour. This theory was confirmed when he slid into her passenger seat and noticed the red fuzzy dice hanging from the rear-view mirror. He smiled to himself; he had fuzzy dice in his truck too.

The drive to her apartment was quiet but comfortable. They stole glances here and there and nodded along to the radio, each of them growing with excitement for what was to come. Frankie rested his hand on her thigh and rubbed tiny circles on the exposed part of her leg through a hole in her jeans. She silently thanked herself for her choice of pants today as the feeling of his calloused thumb stroking her thigh made her core ache for more. She peeked down at his hands and noticed just how large his fingers were. She snapped her head back up with eyes wide and tried to focus on the lights along the streets.

When they arrived at her apartment, it was after 2am. He followed her up the stairs, not wanting to keep too far of a distance from her as his hands ached to feel her again.

“This is me.” She nodded to the apartment door coming up on their right. She fumbled with her keys as she tried to unlock the door, her nerves getting higher by the second. Finally, the lock clicked, and she pushed the door open. She stepped into her apartment and stood in front of the door holding it open for Frankie.

He nodded and walked into the apartment, looking around as he did. There was a white kitchen with an eat in island. The island was covered in notebooks, textbooks, and pens. He imagined her hunched over working on her assignments and grinned to himself. The rest of the room had a small living area with a bright red couch facing a tv. The walls were decorated with framed floral photos and there were a variety of house plants along the windowsill. He stood near the island as she closed the door and put her keys and purse on the counter by the wall.

Sadie rounded the corner of the island, and he turned his head towards her, wrapping his left arm around her waist and pulling her in. She wrapped her hands around his sides, and he pulled her face into his with his right hand. Planting a desperate kiss to her plush lips. She released her lips from his and slowly brought her hand to his, leading him further into the apartment, into her bedroom.

The room was bright white with a white comforter. There were pops of colour with more floral accents adorned the walls. The makeup vanity had large circular bulbs around a round mirror with makeup scattered along the vanity top. Sadie walked over to the bedside table where a blush pink lamp sat and flicked on the light. Frankie admired how she looked in the dim lighting and rested his hands in his pockets as he watched her sit on the bed and take her boots off. Grunting as she popped the snug boots off her feet. She wiggled her toes at the relief from being on her feet all evening.

She stood up and rounded the bed towards him, he gave her a sheepish grin and brushed her hair off her shoulder before cupping her jaw with his hand.

She beamed up at him, “Hi.” She giggled.

Frankie smirked, “Hey you.” And leaned in planting an open mouth kiss on her.

He started backing her up towards the bed until the back of her knees hit the edge. He peeled his plaid shirt off his shoulders and threw it on the floor behind him. She reached for the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it up over his head, only breaking the kiss to move his shirt past and over his shoulders. He quickly grabbed his hat off his head and shifted it from one hand to the other as he pulled his arms out of his shirt. Placing it back on his head backwards. She ran her hands down his bare chest, stopping to rub her fingers on his treasure trail above his jeans.

The moonlight shone in her window above her bed through the light white curtains. He rubbed his hands along her back until he reached the bottom of her tank top and pulled it over her head. He did quick work to remove her strapless tan bra as well and tossed it aside. Frankie broke away slightly, enough so he could gawk at her supple breasts.

“Fuck, you are so sexy hermosa.” He pressed their bare chests against each other and slowly laid her down on the bed as she scooted backwards so her head was near the pillows.

He hovered above her and broke off the kiss to unbutton her jeans. He slid them down her legs, grabbing her socks as pulled them off. He slowly crawled back up the bed admiring her tan body underneath him. He slid a finger up and down her thigh before grazing it over her entrance atop her lace white panties. He hummed to himself, “Already this wet for me baby?”

“Oh Frankie, I started getting wet for you the minute you took care of those idiots at the bar for me.” She answered, moving her hips slightly to get more pressure from Frankies finger.

“Mmm, yeah? You like it when I take care of you?” She nodded, “You want me to take care of you right now?”

She looked desperate now, the teasing was getting the better of her. “Fuck, yes, Frankie please.”

He took her panties in his hands and yanked them down her legs, the teasing had seemingly stopped and he was going full tilt now.

He dropped down onto the bed and spread her legs with his rough hands, lining his face up with her dripping core, aching for relief. He took one last look at her body illuminated by the lamplight and licked a long stripe between her folds. She moaned in response. He started off so light, just tickling her with his tongue. It made her shiver, feeling his tongue dance around lightly between her thighs. She moved her hands to his head, slightly tugging at the soft curls peeking out under his hat. He continued this slow pace until she felt herself arching her back and reaching behind herself to the headboard.

Sadie suddenly felt a wave of pleasure as her orgasm overtook her and she moaned. Only as she started did he finally start applying pressure, causing her orgasm to linger for far longer than she’s used to. When she came down from her high, he picked up his pace and sucked on her clit until it popped out of his mouth.

“Fuck, Frankie. That was amazing.” She ran her hand over her face and tried to snap back into the moment.

He continued licking her core, “Mm not done with you yet baby.”

Frankie traced his fingers up her thigh before burying two deep in her pussy. She whined at the sudden sensation. He curled his fingers tightly inside her and licked her clit. She couldn’t help but buck her hips up into him as she writhed beneath his face. In and out he pulled his fingers, curling them more and more until she felt the snap in her gut again and flowed into her second orgasm. He pumped her still, letting her ride it out on his face.

When she finally came to a still and stopped moaning his name, he plucked his fingers out and wiped his face with his other hand. He crawled up the bed and met her gaze.

Sadie grabbed his face with her hands and pulled him in for a needy kiss. “How the fuck do you still have pants on?” She asked with a smile as she looked down between them.

Frankie rolled off her and swiftly tugged his pants down with his socks. Leaving him in his tight black Clavin Klein boxer briefs. He began to roll back onto her, “Uh uh, those too Fish.” She pointed at his boxers, and he smiled, rolling back over to pull them away and fling them off the bed. She took a wide look at his size and could feel the dampness pooling between her legs. “Fucking hell Frankie, how did you get the nickname Fish and not- fucking horse with that thing?” She gawked.

He smiled and rolled himself back onto her, “Well I don’t go showing it off or anything. Hey do you have?”

“Oh yeah in that drawer.” She pointed to the nightstand with the lamp on it and he leaned over to pull it open and pluck a condom package out of it. He quickly rolled it on and lined himself up at her entrance.

“You ready baby?” he asked playfully.

She nodded and bit her lip, he leaned down and met her lips with his as he reached his hand down, guiding himself into her.

Her breath hitched and broke the kiss as she felt the stretch of him. She met his eye contact with a wide look as she was overwhelmed by the feeling. He bit his lip and groaned, “You feel so good hermosa.”

He started rocking his hips back and forth slowly, going deeper each time until she was completely filled up. She grabbed his neck to steady herself underneath him as she tried to focus and not be completely tipped over the edge immediately. But she was already so overstimulated by the two orgasms. He picked up his pace and crashed his lips to hers. They made out desperately as he rocked into her, hitting his thighs against her hips. It was all tongue and teeth and moans between them.

“Oh baby, I’m so close.” His words falling from his mouth with barely any air left in his lungs.

She was dancing on the edge of immense pleasure as he gave two final deep thrust and grunted as he filled the condom. The way his cock swelled during his orgasm pushed her over the edge and she came crashing down into another for herself while he slowly rocked his hips, bringing them both down. He collapsed onto her chest and exhaled, trying to catch his breath.

Finally, he rolled off her and laid his forearm on his head as she panted beside him.

“That was,” he started.

“Fucking incredible.” She finished for him.

He smiled and rolled over, giving a loving kiss to her forehead before propping himself up and exiting the room to find the bathroom.

Sadie collected herself enough to ease her tired body under the comforter and turn off the lamp. Frankie came back in and smiled at her snuggled up, still lit up by the moonlight above her. He walked back over to the bed and slid in beside her. She rolled over and rested her head on his chest while his arm found its place behind her.

She drew little circles on his chest as she enjoyed how content the moment was.

“So, do you have any plans tomorrow. Or today I guess.” He chuckled as he looked at the time on his watch.

She grinned, “No I don’t think so.”

“Hm, would you want to hang out?”

“Sure, that’d be nice Frankie.” She smiled to herself as she warmed her face on his chest.

He rubbed her shoulder with his hand, “Anything you got in mind?”

She propped herself up to look at him and he met her eyes. “Well, I have had this evening long dream of going up in a helicopter with a handsome pilot.” She winked.

Frankie gave out a huffed chuckle, “I think I can take care of that for you.”

#pedro pascal #frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #triple frontier fic

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javierpena-inatacvest · 2 months

Text

Whatever My Wife Wants

Summary: On your honeymoon, Javi decides to break out a new accessory you've never seen him wear before. Little does he know, that seeing him wear a chain for the first time is about to drive you wild.

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also its your honeymoon so who am I to say), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, literally the biggest, fattest, ugliest breeding kink (I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not), marriage kink (?) creampie, cum play, kind of exhibitionism (like if you SQUINT), talks of starting a family, Javi LOVES his wife, Javi in a CHAIN, Javi on his honeymoon deserves its own warning, did I mention that Javi LOVES his wife?!

A/N: shoutout to my sweet @honeyedmiller for this request after reblogging this MASTERPIECE from @enstatia. It's supposed to be a painting of Din, but it gave me such big Javi vibes, and I really haven't been the same since picturing the one and only Javier Peña in a chain (bc If i can't unsee it, you shouldn't be allowed to either) 😵‍💫 Also shoutout to Lucien Flores for singlehandedly ruining my life today with that new clip from the Uninvited (but also you can't tell me that this outfit is so Javi on the beach coded PHEW)

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

Javi had never been one for jewelry- well, that was until a few days ago when a new golden wedding band had made a home on his hand. Since you had slipped it on his finger, Javi couldn’t get enough of watching it glisten in the warm, tropical sunlight on your honeymoon, a reminder that filled his heart to the brim to know that he was yours forever.

Javi’s new wedding ring was the only jewelry that he had ever pictured himself wearing, until you had mentioned to him in passing while shopping for new clothes for your honeymoon how good he’d look with a chain to go with any of his outfits he had planned for the trip- considering there was no way Javi was going to have no less than 4 buttons undone on his shirt at any given time while basking in the tropical warmth of your honeymoon paradise.

Later on that week, he had dug around in his dresser to find a thin, golden chain necklace he had back from his time in college, that hadn’t seen the light of day in too many years to count. But, given your enthusiasm for the idea of him wearing something like it, Javi had decided to pack it with him in his suitcase to surprise when the time felt right.

Well, after being a few drinks deep at the pool bar from earlier, Javi’s slightly tipsy confidence had him feeling like now was the perfect time to try out his new accessory to see what you thought. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out out the chain to go with the rest of his outfit for your dinner on the beach, clipping the necklace around his neck as he looked himself over in the mirror, quickly fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, undoing one more button than probably necessary to show off his new look.

And while he could admit that he didn’t look half bad with it on, and figured you’d like the new surprise addition to his wardrobe, there’d be no way in hell he could have ever prepared himself for the viscerally awestruck reaction you’d have to the thin, gold chain dangling around his neck.

“I can practically feel you burning a hole through my chest, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you as he took another bite of his food, giving you a playful smirk at the way you had been ogling at him ever since you had noticed the thin gold chain resting across his tanned skin as you began your walk through the hotel to head to dinner.

“Oh shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so hot. You’re making it very hard not to look, in my defense.” You sighed, trying to get yourself to focus on your food instead of staring at Javi for the rest of dinner, despite the fact that the only meal you had your eyes on was sitting across the table from you. “There’s already something about you being my husband that makes you somehow even hotter than you already were, and now with this?” You picked up your fork, gesturing to the chain dangling between the parted fabric of Javi’s shirt, “I think you may be trying to legitimately kill me.”

“Figured you’d like it. Didn’t think you’d like it this much.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip before taking another bite of food, his cheeks growing flushed and warm as he looked at you admiring him, wondering how in the hell he had gotten so goddamn lucky. “Thanks, Mrs. Peña.” He laughed, taking another bite of his food, shooting you a quick wink.

Mrs. Peña.

God, if that alone wasn’t enough to send you over the edge already, your new last name, combined with the incredibly attractive man you had gotten it from that you now got to call your husband? On top of that stupidly hot chain he had decided to throw on with his outfit? There was definitely something else you were hungry for other than the half cleared plate below you.

It was then that you couldn’t have been happier you had been seated at a table on the edge of the beachside boardwalk, tucked behind a few stray palm trees, secluded enough out of view that you had no problem reaching under the table to rest your hand on Javi’s knee, toying with the hem of his shorts before letting your fingers creep further and further up his thigh.

“Are you almost done with your food?” You asked, your voice sweet and sultry as your hand brushing against Javi’s crotch immediately caught his attention, making his eyes go wide as he sat up straight, setting down his knife and fork to look down in his lap. “Because if you are, I can think of something else I want for dessert when we go back to our room. Something I want really bad. You wanna feel how badly I want it?”

Javi swallowed hard as your fingers wrapped more firmly around his bulge, gently massaging his dick in your grasp, before grabbing his hand and guiding it to brush along the slit of your sundress and closer to your core, aching and dripping with arousal. Letting his fingers creep up the inside of your thighs and ghost over your folds, his eyes went even wider, jaw practically dropping open to feel that you were not only absolutely soaked, but also not wearing any underwear at all. Using every ounce of composure he had to keep from falling apart right then and there at the dinner table, letting out a deep sigh as he cursed under his breath.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck, baby… Yeah, I can be done right now.” He groaned, nodding at your proposition before wrapping his hand around the meat of your thigh as he took a long inhale, staring you down with darkening eyes and a devilish grin across the table.

Never had you been more thankful that the resort you had picked to stay at was all inclusive, because if either of you had to wait a minute longer for a server to get your bill so you could get back up to your room, the probability of impending implosion would have been practically inevitable.

Firmly intertwining your fingers with his as you grabbed his hand, you were nearly dragging Javi through the hotel to the nearest bay of elevators, pleasantly shocked to find no one else waiting with you to travel up to their room, leaving the two of you alone to catch the next elevator back up to your floor.

Without a word, the second the elevator doors had closed, the two of you were on top of each other, a messy dance of tongue and teeth crashing together, Javi’s hands palming the meat of your ass over your dress while yours roamed over his chest, tracing the freckles of his tanned skin up to the golden chain dangling in the open buttons of his shirt, stopping to wrap the necklace around your finger, tugging Javi closer to you.

“Fuck, you look so good with this on, baby.” You moaned, your words hot against Javi’s skin as you nipped at his neck, chain still tangled in your grasp. “I can’t wait to fu-”

Barely aware of the fact that you had reached your floor, the ding of the elevator was enough to catch your attention and cut you off from completing the rest of your thought before the doors slid open, revealing a group of couples waiting for their ride down to the lobby. Frantically trying to play off the fact that if the elevator ride had gone any longer, you two definitely would have been seconds away from fucking in it, you gulped, giving Javi a nudge to his ribs to bring him back to reality, the two of you quickly trying to slide past the other guests without making a scene.

As the door closed behind you, you and Javi couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you couldn’t seem to take an elevator trip alone without almost being caught making out like a pair of horny teenagers (which, to be fair, a pair of horny teenagers probably would have had more self control than the two of you being newlyweds on your honeymoon).

With your room only being a few doors down from the elevator, Javi began fumbling in the pocket of his shorts for his room key, working around the full hard on he already had under the fabric from how pent up he was. Quietly cursing under his breath until he found it, as soon as the card was swiping over the lock of the door, Javi was yanking you through into your room, instantly beginning to pull down the zipper to the back of your dress as you fumbled your way back to the bed.

Your dress fell to the floor in a crumpled pile before Javi was tossing you onto the mattress, shocked to see that you also hadn’t even bothered to put on a bra, revealing your glowing skin and obnoxious tanlines from your time spent out in the sun.

“Dirty fucking girl, not wearing anything underneath that dress for me. Fuck me, Hermosa. God, you’re so beautiful. So fucking perfect. My perfect wife.” Javi growled, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed to part your legs, draping them over his shoulders as he admired the wet mess between your thighs, your slick already coating your folds, glistening in the dim light of your hotel room. “My perfect wife and her perfect fucking pussy already so wet for me.

Dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal as he ghosted over your throbbing clit, you let out a soft whimper in protest, sitting up on your elbows to look down at Javi, peppering kisses along the soft skin of your thighs.

“Javi, fuck- Baby, I wanted to go down on you. You look so good, I-I wanna taste you, Jav, p-please.” You moaned, your argument becoming less and less convincing as his kisses traveled to your center, nose brushing against your aching bundle of nerves before looking up at you with a lustful smirk, tightening his grip around your hips to hold you in place.

Javi shook his head as he laughed quietly to himself, watching you squirm and buck your hips towards his face, so desperately worked up and aching that the mess between your legs was really beginning to contradict your need to get Javi off before yourself.

“Cariño…” Javi tutted, almost mockingly, digging his fingertips deeper into the meat of your flesh, “You’re not going anywhere ‘till I get a taste. I can’t leave my poor wife all worked up like this, can I?”

Before you had a chance to respond, the flat of Javi’s tongue was dragging through your heat in a long, broad stroke, firmly pressing against your clit, looking up at you with a satisfied grin as you threw your head back in pleasure, a soft whimper escaping from your parted lips. As the last of his lick slid through your folds, you shuttered at the feeling of the metal of his chain ghosting over your cunt as it dangled from his neck, only to cry out as you could feel the other piece of jewelry he was wearing on his left ring finger sink deep into your entrance.

“Oh f-fuck-” You whimpered as another finger breached your tight hole, already sucking him in with your warm, wet walls while his digits curled, bumping against the sweet spot inside you that he knew made you crumble.

“That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt before diving back between your legs like a man starved, his tongue dancing in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you, even more so now with the wedding band that had made its permanent home on his finger, taking every chance he could get to watch you cover the glistening gold ring in your arousal as yet another way to prove that you were his.

Javi could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his fingers as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets of the bed, the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten, tingling building at the base of your spine. Latching his lips around your clit, he began to suck at your sensitive nub, his hand thrusting faster and deeper into your cunt, feeling you slowly coming undone under his touch.

“Oh shit- fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m so close baby, oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaaahhhhhh-” Just like that, you were falling over the brink of collapse, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, pleasure flowing through every inch of your veins as you met your high, feeling the smirk of Javi’s smile pressed against your cunt as you soaked his face, his free hand wrapped around your hip, holding you in place for him.

“Fuck, I swear, I’ll never fucking get over that.” Javi mewled, pulling back enough to sit on his heels, admiring the wet and puffy mess your pussy had become, gently pulling his fingers out of your heat, looking down at the way your arousal coated his fingers, covering his wedding band. “Fucking soaked me, Hermosa. You like feeling my ring when I touch you like that, baby? Knowing I’m all yours forever?”

With your chest heaving in heavy breaths, you nodded frantically, blissed out look plastered across your face as you stared up at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip as, opening your mouth for you to suck him clean, the warm and tangy taste of you still fresh on his skin.

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. Mi esposa sabes muy dulce.” (My wife tastes so sweet) Javi cooed, gently tugging his fingers out of your mouth, standing up to lean over the bed, caging your body under his as his lips crashed against yours in a needy mess of longing and desperation.

You could feel how painfully hard he was through the fabric of his shorts, his bulge straining against the seams of his zipper as he rubbed against your thigh, laying on top of you with one arm propped up beside your head, the other gently cupping your face, thumb rubbing back and forth along your cheek as he kissed you with the tender intensity that set your insides ablaze with desire, longing, no, needing to feel him buried deep inside you as you screamed his name.

It really had been your intention to suck Javi off the moment you had gotten back to your room, to drop to your knees and worship the beautifully handsome man you now got to call your husband and turn him into the same type of moaning, whimpering mess that he had just made you, but with the ferocity of each kiss and the instinctual jerk of Javi’s hips, there was nothing you wanted more than to be filled by the sweet sting of his cock pounding into you, over and over.

“J-Javi, fuck- I need to feel you baby, please. Fuck, I wanna feel you so deep inside me.” You whispered, your teeth tugging at Javi’s earlobe as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses, feeling the audible groan in his chest at your request, followed by a deep sigh as he tried to compose himself from the mess he was already becoming.

“Yeah? That’s what you want, sweet girl? Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets.” He rasped, a devilish grin spread between his cheeks as he sat back to pull his shirt over his head, followed by his shorts and boxers, leaving him in nothing but the gold chain still dangling around his neck as he reached down to stroke his cock, red and dripping with precum before leaning back down to line up with your entrance.

You could feel your breath hitch as his tip brushed through your folds, rubbing gently against your clit as he collected your arousal to coat his length, looking down to watch as his length sunk deep into your cunt, the both of you letting out ragged moans at the sensation.

Javi paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the sweet sting of his stretch as he filled you, his tip kissing your cervix while his hips met yours. The fullness made your brain go blank, completely at a loss for words as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, pulling himself out enough to sink his whole length back into your cunt, each thrust making you whimper and moan, desperate for more.

“F-fuck, give me more, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your hand wrapping around his bicep, fingertips digging into his flexing muscles.

“Yeah? You want more, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, smirking to himself at the blissed out mess you were already becoming as the pace of his hips rutting into you began to quicken.

As each thrust became faster, the gold chain draped around his neck began to bounce against his chest, his body close enough to yours to feel the cool metal brush against your face with each snap of his hips into yours, the sight of his necklace dangling over you as you stared up at the furrowed and focused look painting his face. The image alone of him wearing that chain was enough to make you feel like you were going to cum on the spot, but as you lay caged beneath the weight of his broad body, feeling nothing but his warm skin and chain rub against you, you were nearly convinced it was going to be over for you right then and there.

Without even thinking, you lifted your head up off the bed just enough to grab the chain between your teeth, tugging him closer to you, the sudden yank making his eyes go wide in surprise as the two of you came nose to nose, foreheads brushing against each other before his lips were on yours again, entangling you in an all consuming kiss without faltering in his pace.

“Fuck, you look so good.” You moaned, your lips parting just enough from his to whisper your praises into his ear. “You look so hot with this fucking chain, Jesus Christ.”

Your comment had a low, breathy laugh escaping from his chest, shaking his head to himself almost in disbelief at how enthralled you were with him.

“Me? Baby girl, you have no idea.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts to sit back on his haunches, readjusting you to bring your knees pressed to your chest, leaning back down, running his hands along your body, up your arms until he had them above your head, pinned down to the bed in his grasp. “You know how many guys I’ve seen staring at you since we’ve been here? How many dirty fucking looks I’ve had to give them? Maybe this ring on your finger isn’t enough, mi amor.”

“W-what do you, fuck- what do mean?” You whimpered, the new position opening you up in a way that had you feeling every inch of Javi as he sank his cock even deeper into your cunt, splitting you open in the most delicious way possible, your brain barely working enough to let your words escape from your mouth.

“I mean,” Javi groaned, tightening his grip to hold you in place, his eyes growing darker with desire with another deep, long thrust into your heat, “That maybe, I need to fuck a baby into, Osita. Fuck a baby into my beautiful fucking wife, and let everyone see that you’re mine with our kid growing inside you.”

Javi’s words sent a shiver down your spine, the thought alone making you whimper- You and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever, and now that you were finally married and had agreed that your birth control wasn’t going to be a part of your packing list, the prospect that in 9 months from now, you could have a third member to your family? That was enough to have you close to finishing right then and there.

A gulp traveling down your throat before a long exhale, trying to find the words to respond to his proposition, your voice trembling in an anxious excitement.

“F-fuck- Oh my god, yes. Fuck a baby into me, Javi. Let me, oh shit- let me make you a daddy.”

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth, trying his best to maintain his own composure, taking a long exhale before his gaze met yours again, a fierce kind of determination and promise pooling in the deep chocolate brown of his eyes, leaning his body on top of yours, pushing your knees closer to your chest, opening you up to an even deeper angle as his mouth crashed into yours, beginning to pick up his pace once again as his hips snapped into yours. “That’s what you want, Hermosa? Fuck, I’ll give it to you, baby. Oh shit- Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets, remember? You want a baby? Fuck- I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you I’ll fuck a baby into you right now.”

You could feel the all too familiar tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine once again, Javi’s cock pounding perfectly into your g-spot over and over again, the hairs at the base of his length grinding against your throbbing clit, sending you to the brink of collapse with each thrust in and out of your cunt.

“Yes, oh my god- yes, I w-want it so bad. P-please, baby, fuck.” You whined, starting to stumble over your words as you could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock, the coil in your core tightening to the point of nearly snapping.

“Fuck- say it again. Tell me- mierda- tell me how badly you want it.” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming slopier and more desperate as he could feel himself on the verge of chasing his own high, knowing all too well you were almost hitting yours.

“I want you to fill me up, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- I want it so bad. I want you to knock me up and give me a baby, please, baby, oh my god- please.” You were all but panting at this point, your legs starting to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, the overwhelming sensation of his fullness, promise of pregnancy, and that damn chain dangling in your face was enough to finally send you over the edge. “Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I’m so close baby, I’m gonna, oh shit- I’m gonna cu-ahhhhhhh.”

Those were the last words you were able to muster before you were screaming out Javi’s name as you came, euphoria and ecstasy radiating through every inch of your body, your orgasm crashing through you with so much intensity you could have sworn you were seeing stars.

Watching you fall apart beneath him, soaking his cock in your arousal as you came had Javi only moments behind you, the rhythm of his hips beginning to stutter, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each others combined with your wanton moans and whimpers and curses under your breath making him begin to babble incoherently.

“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. Fucking soak my cock, baby. Cum all over me before I, fuck me- fuck myself so deep in you it’ll fucking take. Holy fuck- Fuck, I’m gonna cum too. Gonna fucking fill you up. Give you all of me. Fuck, I’ll give you everyting, baby, mierda- everything you’ll ever wa-ahhhhhh”

With one last final thrust, Javi was spilling deep inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls, milking himself of every single last drop before collapsing on top of you, the warmth and weight and of his body sinking on top of your chest as the two you sighed in sync, trying to catch your breath with long, labored huffs.

As Javi felt himself begin to soften, a groan rumbled low in his chest while he pulled out, feeling the mix of your spend dripping out your hole, coating the inside of your thighs in glistening juices. You let out an involuntary whimper at the loss of fullness inside you, your head falling back on the mattress in blissed out satisfaction, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to reality after floating away in post-colotial bliss.

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, lifting your head back up to see Javi sitting back on his heels, admiring the mess of the two of you pooling between your legs.

“So fucking pretty, Hermosa.” He mewled, peppering kisses down the soft skin of your thighs, making his way back towards your core. Before you could even realize what was happening, Javi’s head was back between your legs, one broad stroke of his tongue collecting the tangy, salty mixture leaking out of your cunt and lapping it back into your entrance quickly replacing his mouth with his fingers to push the mixture of your spend even further into you.

Looking up at you, slick covering his mustache and smug grin spread between his cheeks, Javi curled his fingers just enough to make you yelp as he pressed against your g-spot, considering how worked up and overstimulated you already were.

“Gotta make sure I keep you full of me, baby. Can’t let anything go to waste.” Javi smirked, gently pulling out his fingers, resting his hands on your thighs, drawing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs.

You tried to sit back up, propping yourself on your elbows before Javi’s body was caging over you once again, slowly lowering himself down until your back was flat against the bed, cradling your jaw as guided you down with soft, slow kisses, feeling his chain brush against your chin he pulled away from your lips.

“You’re not going anywhere, Momma. My wife wants a baby? Then I’m doing everything I can to give her one. Whatever she wants.” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead as his hand caressed your face, brushing your skin just gently enough to tickle you, a little giggle escaping from your lips as your eyes met his sweet puppy dog ones.

“You’re ridiculous, you menace.” You laughed, playfully nudging Javi as he rolled over next to you on the side of the bed, wrapping his arm around you, tugging you to lay against his bare chest, your hand draping over his stomach before crawling up his chest, wrapping his gold chain around your fingers. “Hmmmm whatever your wife wants, huh?” You smirked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Whatever she wants, Hermosa.”

“Your wife wants you to never take this damn thing off again.”

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strawhbrrries · 4 months

Text

Starin' Problem.

pairing: dbf!no outbreak!joel miller x afab!reader

summary: a red dress and a glass of whiskey is all it took for Joel to lose every ounce of self control he once had.

warnings: porn no plot, female pronouns, age gap (both consenting adults), unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, slight creep joel, daddy kink, breeding kink...,mean joel, dirty talk, praise!!!, no use of y/n or descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 1.3k words

recommended listening: granite by sleep token

authors note: i'm pretty sure I had planned for this to take place at reader's parent's wedding but i never specified so it's just some fancy event they planned lmfao, enjoy <333

“Quit starin’.” Your father whispered into Joel’s ear, following his eyes to you, his daughter, across the room. “Let's not have a problem tonight.”

“I ain’t.” Joel grunted, taking a sip of the whiskey in his hand as he continued to watch you. “We won’t have any problems.”

He’d spent most of the night trying to decide if you’d worn any underwear under the dress, with a slit that ended right under your hip he was convinced you weren’t but then you’d turn a specific way and he swore he could make out a line. The low neckline left nothing to the imagination and only added to the torture you were putting Joel through at the hands of fashion, he never knew he could be so turned on by someone your age but here he was with a rock hard cock, staring like a creep.

“Whoever that guy with your dad is has been staring at you all night.” One of the girls you’d been standing with spoke, a hint of jealousy in her voice.

You turned your head around, making eye contact with Joel, and looking him up and down. You couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him, and the dark red suit your father had picked out to match the same red of the dresses your mom had picked out wasn’t helping at all. He looked you up and down before making eye contact with you again, taking another sip of his whiskey, and twirling a finger around.

“Joel? He’s probably on a secret mission to keep an eye on me.” You joked, acting like you had stepped on your dress as an excuse to spin around without anyone suspecting anything.

“He can keep an eye on me.” A different girl responded, giggling as they continued to joke about him.

He could’ve orgasmed right then and there as you spun around, the two of you hadn’t spoken all night and yet here you were entertaining him. His glass of whiskey was almost empty, if he played his cards right maybe he’d be able to get you alone, away from the annoying girls you’d been around all night.

You watched him glance at his glass before heading off to what you assumed was the kitchen, he hadn’t made any signal for you to follow but this was your moment.

“What would my dear father think if he knew his best friend was eyeing up his daughter?” You whispered, coming up behind Joel and dragging your nails down his back.

“Does his dear daughter care?” Joel whispered back, setting his glass down and turning around to face you. “Seemed like you quite enjoyed it.”

He trailed a finger over the neckline of your dress, hooking it under the fabric and exposing one of your breasts. A low groan escaped his throat, accompanied by him fixing his suit pants. His fingers found your nipple, rolling and tugging it slightly.

“Seems to me you’re enjoying it a whole bunch.” He chuckled, using his other hand to tilt your chin up, leaning down so your lips were inches apart.

“Fuck, Joel-”

He smashed his lips against yours, swallowing every whimper escaping your lips, pulling the other side of your dress down to expose both breasts. Your hands made quick work of unbuttoning his suit jacket, pulling it off of him and throwing it on the floor, before moving to his dress shirt.

“Naughty girl, lettin’ some old man touch you in a kitchen at your parent’s party.” He spoke against your lips, shoving your dress down to your hips and taking a step back to admire you. “God you’re fuckin’ pretty.”

“Joel, please.” You whined, grabbing at the last few buttons left on his shirt desperately as if it was going to get them unbuttoned faster.

“I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already beggin’. Fuckin’ whore.” He chuckled, helping you unbutton his shirt and tossing it to the side with his jacket. “Need some dick, huh?”

You shook your head, shoving the rest of the dress over your hips and onto the floor, grabbing his head and smashing your lips back together. His fingers danced their way down your skin, memorizing every bump and curve in the chance that he wouldn’t get to do this again, making their way under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter behind him.

He trailed a finger up and down your folds, gathering your wetness and bringing it to his mouth, groaning at the taste. The sensation of his finger slowly pushing in and out was so overwhelming, you were practically floating on cloud nine and there was nothing you’d change about it.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” Joel rasped, lips pressed up against your ear, removing the rest of his clothing. “Tell daddy how bad you need it.”

“Daddy, please…fuck- need it so bad.” Your words were barely audible, desperate and whiny.

The feeling of his cock pushing inside of you had you throwing your head back, hand slapped over your mouth to muffle any and all noise he’d pull out of you. He pulled back out slowly, watching your pussy grip his cock as he pushed back in. Forbidden sex had never felt so good, he’d find any and every reason to visit you after tonight if he could experience this again. His beard scratched against your neck as he bent over, pulling your body closer to him, sucking and biting at the skin he could reach.

“God, I could make you a fuckin’ mom.” Joel groaned, leaning his head further into the crook of your neck. “Look so fuckin’ pretty, full of my babies.”

“Daddy-”

“That’s right, say my name, baby.” He switched the arm that was bearing your weight and brought the newly freed hand to your hair, tugging it back enough so he could see your face.

His hips pistoned in and out, cock reaching places you didn’t even know it could, but if you told him that he’d make a joke about you not sleeping with a real man like him. He placed wet kisses down your neck and all the way down to your nipples, sucking on them in turns.

“Joel, please, I’m so close..” You cried, eyes filled to the brim with tears that threatened to spill at any moment.

“That’s too damn bad, because that’s not my name.” He chuckled, evilly, wiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks. “Try again, I know you can do it, baby.”

“Daddy, daddy please.”

“Good girl.”

He brought his thumb down to your clit, drawing figure eights in time with his thrusts, coaxing your orgasm right out of you. You slumped into him as it hit you, body shaking as it made its way through you. He continued to thrust into you, chasing his own white, hot high. Your small whimpers as you came back to the world was enough to send Joel over the edge, painting your insides a nice milky white. His own body slumping into yours as he recovered from the pleasure.

“Did such a good job, darlin’.” He praised, smoothing your hair down as you continued your way out of cloud nine. “Did so good for me.”

You gave him a weak smile, smoothing the hairs that were stuck to his sweaty forehead back to their spot. He sat you back down on the counter and filled his glass up with water before handing it to you, the aftertaste of whiskey was enough to perk you right up.

Joel helped you back into your dress, fixing your hair to cover the hickeys that were soon to appear, sliding your underwear back up but making sure to push his cum back inside of you before sliding them all the way up.

“C’mon, we got speeches to make.”

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joelscurls · 5 months

Text

best kept secret

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 6.7k

summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3

Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.

It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it, never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.

You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.

He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.

“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”

They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core.

Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can.

Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.

Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.

But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.

Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.

“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.

With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.

He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.

You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.

Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel.

For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more.

It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has.

That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.

He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.

But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.

“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine.

“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.”

Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.

Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.

“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.

“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.”

You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.

“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”

Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do.

“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it.

You slink home just as the street lights dim.

The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.

You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.

You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.

The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.

By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you.

Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.

God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“Something on your mind?”

Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.

“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”

He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”

It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.

You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.

The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-

-there’s a knock at the door.

Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?

And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.

“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.

Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.

The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.

He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length.

No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.

You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay.

Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.

His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.

“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”

He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?

“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.

“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.”

His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.

And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket.

You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.

Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink.

Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.

Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”

Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale.

“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers.

There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week.

This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.

But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context.

You shake your head, no.

“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”

“When I was ten?” you retort.

“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”

You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”

“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.

“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.

“Well, you gotta get back out there!”

Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”

You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch.

I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.

Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.

Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.

“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”

“Will you just give her a chance?”

“Jesus; fine.”

The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.

Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.

He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through.

“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket.

“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”

Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

He’s actually agreeing to this?

You need to get out of here before you say something rash.

The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder.

Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.

The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late.

The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.

It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.

The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.

Maybe he’d be happier with Deb.

They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.

The day passes infuriatingly slow.

The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.

“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.

“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”

“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”

“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.

You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.

He picks up after two rings.

“Darlin’ — are you okay?”

It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.

But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.

“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest.

“Why didn’t you say no?”

“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”

“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“

You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.

“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”

Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.

It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.

Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor.

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”

He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.

The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.

You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.

There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.

Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.

He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.

So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.

But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin.

It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.

On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”

You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.

“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway.

“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”

“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.

“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“

“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.

Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.

Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern.

Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all.

Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait.

You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.

This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.

You jot the address down anyway.

Downtown Austin is buzzing with life.

Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand.

At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved.

That’s not what you’re doing, of course.

No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.

It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up.

You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?

You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.

From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.

Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.

And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.

Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.

But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb.

She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.

She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.

You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.

But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers.

He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday.

Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer.

She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.

You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.

And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.

He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.

Fuck.

He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.

With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side.

He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down.

The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.

“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.

You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?

When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.

“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”

“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”

This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.

“It wasn’t like that,” he grits

“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”

There’s a beat. Joel sighs.

“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”

His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you admit.

He nods. Another beat.

“Did you kiss her?” you ask.

“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now.

Your mouth goes dry.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t want her?”

“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.”

“Why not?”

He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.

“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?”

The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.

“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat.

And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw.

Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep.

He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths.

“Need you — please.”

He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs.

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your breath catches.

You know what he’s really asking: are you going to let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?

But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.

You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”

Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.

“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.”

He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.

He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.

You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”

His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist.

You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.

“Gotta move baby — please move.”

He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.

Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.

Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life.

It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.

One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop.

Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.

“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“

“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”

His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.

His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.

“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”

He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.

You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.

You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.

Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.

“Joel,” you say.

He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.

“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.

“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”

And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”

“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”

You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.

You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.

Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel.

You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.

“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”

He looks at you like you have two heads.

He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.

“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.

“I’m yours?”

He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning.

It all feels somehow sweeter, now.

“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”

end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.

Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)

tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673

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joelsmochi · 3 months

Text

every man gets his wish - joel miller

rating: E 18+ pairing: neighbor!joel x f!pornstar!reader summary: joel discovers his next door neighbor makes porn in her spare time. once she's confronted, she finds out that he has an interest in helping create content ;) warnings: not proofread, no physical descriptions other than reader having an unidentified tattoo on her thigh and nice peach, unspecified age gap (ur choice pookie), [m] masturbation, objectively joel is a bit of a perv, some awkward dialogue, literal porn. literally, degradation (they get a lil rough), f + m oral, smacking/spanking, daddy kink (slight ddlg vibes too), pet names and plenty of dirty talk YUM wc: 3.2k a/n: happy valentine's day smut sluts :D!

He almost couldn’t believe his eyes, but he’d recognize that tattoo anywhere; his gaze followed the tattoo on the back of your thigh as you rode your cute little excuse for a toy.

Your soft moans and breaths echoing through the speakers on his laptop made his legs tremble against the old desk chair in his room while he fucked his fist.

He didn’t even think twice about the video he clicked on. He just knew he was horny and in need of quick release, so he typed his favorite keywords into Pornhub’s search engine and clicked the sixth video that only showed your ass. He realized he never noticed how juicy it was, and the oil or lotion or lube or whatever you fucking used to make it so goddamn shiny only emphasized how perfect it was.

Staring at the screen, he grasped the armrest in one hand and cock in the other, watching your puffy pussy cream all over the dildo. He matched the strokes of his hand with the rhythm of you bouncing. Slowing down, speeding up, only fucking the tip or grinding—he reenacted every movement of yours as best he could.

Even waiting until you were shaking and shouting the words, “I’m cumming—fuck yes! Just like that baby,” before cumming with you.

He watched the last few minutes of the video, watching you slap the dildo on your creamy cunt and play with it a little more along with standing up off of your bed and jiggling your ass in your hands. You giggled softly watching yourself. Then, much to his surprise, you sat down in front of the camera and smiled.

He wasn’t expecting you to reveal your face, so when the video ended he looked out of his bedroom window into yours. You were lying on the bed reading a book in the very spot where you recorded that filthy video.

You weren’t trying to tease him, he knew that, but it certainly felt that way.

♡

Joel had successfully managed to evade you for a week feigning work has been keeping him too tired for company. He found himself a touch jealous that the world had seen you naked before him despite your relationship being completely platonic.

You owed him nothing, not even an explanation, but he still felt weirdly possessive over you. He had a slight crush on you when you first moved in, but you were so much younger than he was, and in his eyes you'd want nothing to do with such an old man like himself. Not to mention the 'crush' was mostly just a lingering desperation to fuck you.

The discovery led him to do a deep dive into your profile on the website. There he discovered what seemed like a plethora of your content along with your affinity for degradation whether it was to yourself or towards others.

However he felt like he could finally breathe when he saw it was all solo content. You didn't even seem to entertain the idea of fucking someone else and uploading it. He even felt a sliver of hope that he could be your first real fuck on camera, but if he already struggled with confronting his own feelings towards you then how could he ever open up the opportunity to doing a video with you?

Joel was finally over avoiding you. He was ready to admit his discovery to you and go from there. He just prayed you wouldn't freak out.

"Hi, Joel!" You greeted after opening your front door. "What's been goin' on cowboy, I've been a little lonely on this side of town."

He followed your actions and sat on your sofa; as instant as a heartbeat you noticed he was off. Nervous? Worry? Anger? You struggled to read him.

"Somethin' the matter?"

He pulled himself out of his daze and looked at you, mouth hanging open like he couldn't manage the words. They just sort of... Spilled out.

"I found your porn on PornHub the other day and I don't care that you sell porn. I really don't. You're a grown woman and it's your body and you can do whatever you want. I just felt wrong not tellin' you."

Poor Joel.

You wanted to laugh at him, tell him there was no guilt in finding it or even watching it (because let's face it, you know he did).

"Okay," you said.

"Okay..."

"...Did you like it?" You asked after feeling a little uneasy with the silence.

"Hell yeah," he responded without hesitation making you giggle.

"Really?" You tittered, "I feel like it gets old."

This was his golden opportunity. At the very least he could pass what he was about to say off as a joke.

"I could always help with that," he chuckled.

You were clearly taken aback by his statement but still smiling. "I'm don't like sharing my money, Joel," you scoffed.

"So don't pay me," he said just as he leaned in a little closer. "Just fuck me."

You couldn't fight the blush that rose to your cheeks and he cockily took notice of it.

"Are you fucking with me?" You bashfully asked.

This made him lean in closer, close enough for you to smell him, close enough to feel his breath cascading over your collarbones, close enough to know that the dark look in his eyes wasn't mischief. It was desire.

His hands cupped your jaw so that he could bring your nose to his. You felt beautifully trapped between his hands, gaze, and aura. Suddenly you were filled with the desire to let him take you in any way he wanted to imagine.

"You know what my favorite video is?" He whispered, breath hitting your lips. "You were on your side, getting ready to cum, and you kept saying I belong to you until you were screaming. Damn near crying. Your little fucktoy was soaked. You had cum everywhere. But the best part was when you did start to cum. You couldn't even look away from yourself, you looked too damn good and you fucking knew it."

"I'd look even better with you inside of me," you told him.

He sharply inhaled before placing his needy lips onto yours, pressing his face in as much as he could.

You moaned into his open mouth, reaching for his tongue with your own. His hands roamed down your body until they reached your hips; showing off his strength, he lifted you into his lap and stood up not wanting to waste another second.

He tried to be careful on the stairs but his eagarity caused him to misstep and almost drop you; he left no room for embarrassment and quickly returned to running up with you giggling at the mishap.

Joel placed you on the bed standing with his jean-covered erection eye level with you. "Where's your camera?"

"Really wanna record it, hmm?" You said softly, running your hand along his hard length and motioning your head to the dresser behind him.

He grabbed it, muttering, "Wanna show everyone you're mine now," whilst turning the camera on.

You cocked an eyebrow up as if to say oh really. "Is that so? I'm all yours now?"

Smiling, he pointed the now recording camera at you. He cupped your chin and dragged a finger over the bright smile you wore. "You're all mine now, darlin'."

You giggled coyly then kissed his clad erection slowly with eyes that remained on the lens.

"Quit teasin'," he demanded with a playful lilt.

You hummed and fake pouted, pulling your face away to toggle his jeans. "There are nicer ways to ask," you teased.

"I'm not askin'."

"Oh? My apologies, daddy."

Your hand began pumping his thick cock when you said that, making his cock jerk hard within your tight grip.

"Daddy, huh?" He entertained; you seductively nodded. "S'pretty right here..."

"Where I belong," you hummed.

Then, you lined your tongue up with the base of his cock, just barely teasing his balls, and licked a stripe up his girthy shaft before twirling your tongue around his red hot tip. You carefully watched as his face contorted, ensuring it was with pleasure and looking for any sensitive spots he may have.

He seemed to favor your tongue on his cockhead so that's what you prioritized for a minute. You tongue kissed it as if it were his mouth. Licking and sucking and pulling it into your mouth feverishly.

His cock tasted manly and the length was just as impressive as him. You finally pulled more of him into your mouth allowing him the privilege of feeling your gummy cheeks swell and close around his dick.

A strained groan left his throat and his head fell back in pleasure. You pushed some of him into your throat to gag, earning more spit to pump the rest of his length with.

Joel was enamoured to say the least. Your wide eyes locked with his letting him know you loved sucking his cock as much as he did. Spit hung from your chin prompting him to reangle the camera to get the side view of everything.

He placed a hand on the back of your head and gently fucked your throat. You moaned, grabbing his ass and pulling him in for more pain, more suffocation.

Your throat gagged over and over again, imitating the feeling of your swallowing his dick. You loved how he shamelessly moaned, filling your ears with the sexy sounds of his calloused whimpers and content praises.

"Such a good girl, sucking daddy's cock like that," he groaned. "You like the taste, don't you? Such a good little slut." He smacked your jaw as encouragement to keep doing whatever magic you were fucking performing.

Once your throat began to get sore you pulled your mouth off of him, still opting to use your hands as he laid you down and rested on top of you, giving you the sloppiest kiss you'd ever received and assisting you with undressing.

He tasted his cock on your lips and chin and slurped up whatever precum and spit you had leftover. It felt nasty and passionate, with subtle moans spilling from both of you, and Joel couldn't get enough of it.

"Sit on my face," he breathed.

"Sit on your face?"

"Mmhm."

You set the camera up on the dresser looking at the screen to ensure it would capture everything before complying with his wish. He let out a muffled moan as soon as your wet pussy came in contact with his wet mouth.

On the camera, everything could be seen: your cunt glistened effortlessly and his tongue lapped up whatever your body poured for him. His scruff tickling your freshly shaved skin made you giggle and moan, little noises everywhere that sung like a melody in his ears.

Your clit tingled with a pressure that encouraged you to started riding his face. In response Joel's calloused hands came up to grip your ass and assisted your movements.

He squeezed one cheek almost too hard before spanking it a few times, your flesh easily bruising red and stinging deliciously.

"Joel, your mouth... Perfect," you blabbered. You were filled with bliss: your eyes were closed, fingers twirling playfully in his messy hair.

God, he licked you so fucking good. So messy but that's what made it effortlessly perfect.

"I—oh my God. Fuck! I love your fucking mouth," you moaned loudly.

"Mhm?"

You shuddered at the vibrations, hips stuttering into his licks and sucks even deeper.

"Yes, Joel!" You cried, "Fuck you're gonna make me cum... You're gonna make me cum!"

He spanked your ass even more at this, making both cheeks turn a bashful color and jiggle against his jawline.

With trembling thighs you managed all of your strength to hump him harder and faster. Doing whatever you fucking could to reach your climax.

"Yesyesyesyesyesyes!" You happily cheered as your juices began to relentlessly pour out of your squelching cunt and down his chin.

A satisfied smile rose to your face as your clit throbbed through the orgasm Joel had just given you. You slowed down on your own time allowing him to savor every last drop he'd be tasting for now.

You carefully removed your weight from his face, feeling more out of breath than ever. Meanwhile Joel sat up and swiped up some of your come with his thumb just before forcing it into your mouth and using his other hand to pinch out some that managed to get inside of his nose.

You were a tad embarrassed by his action but his subtle grin let you know that there was nothing more sexy than getting you so wet that it literally almost suffocated him.

Your mouth latched into him, cherishing the scruff surrounding his face. He went to lay on top of you again, your head now hanging off of the foot of the bed; he held your legs to your chest and slid into you easily making you whine at the slight burn that came with being stretched out.

With furrowed brows and an agape mouth, he incandescently moaned into the thick air while his thick thumb found your sensitive clit. You flinched and exhaled harmoniously at the combination of pleasure, enriched in the ecstasy he gave.

"You're so fuckin' tight, babydoll. Agh—almost can't take it," he taunted. "M'gonna have to ruin ya."

He gently released the grip of your legs and put his weight onto you. His arms slithered beneath you, wrapping around you in a way that made you feel safe. Then he kissed you, much more softly than before and rolled his hips back and forth. Your slick walls gripped him, trying to suck him in deeper.

His lips pulled off of you with a pop and he licked a thick line from your clavicle to behind your ear as if he magically knew it was your sweet spot.

You giggled and shivered at the ticklish feeling, enduring it until it started to feel more sensual. He felt you relax within his touch and took it as opportunity to nibble the spot, biting it just enough to hurt a little bit.

Between his movements and your sweaty bodies sticking together you felt almost useless; you were used to doing the work, giving instead of taking. But it felt too good to stop now.

When you clawed at his back he pushed himself up and started slamming into you. You gasped, digging your nails into his arms.

"Love those pretty little sounds you're makin' f'me," he hummed, pushing his hand into your exposed neck and gripping it. "You like that? Hm? Ohh, you fucking love it. Look it at you."

You raised a hand and smacked his cheek lightly—your way of saying fuck you considering his grasp of you. He reciprocated, landing a firm smack to your face and earning a smile in return.

"Fuckin' brat needs to be put in her place—"

You shook your head attempting to hum out a no.

The hand he had around your neck reached up to squish your cheeks so that he could come eye to eye with you. "God, fuck. I can't even punish you when you look at me with those pretty eyes," he said defeatedly. "Look at you, babydoll. You're so fuckin' tight. Best fuckin' pussy ever. So wet, just f'me."

"All yours, Joel. I'm all yours."

"Yeah?" He cooed. "You're all mine?"

"Fuck yes!"

"Cum for me, baby. Yeah, cum on my cock," he pleaded, "get it nice and wet for me darlin', need you to cum for me."

Between his scruff voice and brutal thrusts you found yourself falling into another orgasm, everything around you ceased to exist.

The world went quiet aside from Joel's encouragements and praises; you could feel the blood pumping throughout your body, your heart punching against your chest, and your body molding to the twists and curves of Joel's body.

As you squeezed and scratched and begged him for more more more you felt the tension between your legs dissolve passionately into a sear so strong you felt it warm and burning the flesh along your belly.

Joel watched your chest rise and fall with your tits bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts. He rode you out until the very end of your high before picking you up and sitting on the edge of the bed with you straddling him.

Feeling even more horny and turned on than before you wasted no time and began bouncing on his painfully hard dick.

He was fighting his climax, needing to feel you wrapped around him as long as he could take.

"You feel so fucking good, daddy," you whined, "want your cum."

"You want me to cum inside you babydoll?" He pouted.

"Yes Joel. Want you to fill me up..."

"Gonna ruin that pretty pussy," he grunted, "gonna make you mine. This pussy belongs to me now, doesn't it?"

He listened to you whimper and weep and whine, coaxing you through it all while offering a few pops to your ass and thighs for encouragement.

You watched him lay down, arms folded behind his head to enjoy the little show you were putting on for him. Hair bouncing and flaying everywhere while you rode him with a bobbling head—the view from where he was looked pretty fucking perfect.

Your movements halted and you managed to turn around on his cock while keeping it inside; hearing a strained gurgly moan come from him as a result, you mercilessly began riding him again giving him the best view of your ass as it clapped against the peak of his belly.

"Good fuckin' slut," he slapped your tatted thigh and watched intently for a moment or two. "Good girl, mhmm. Doin' such a perfect job on daddy's cock."

Joel then sat up and reached for your clit, rubbing the sweetest little circles on it and using his free hand to turn your face to kiss him.

Reverse cowgirl had always been him favorite position, but he can't remember a time or even a moment where it felt this fucking good.

"You're gonna make me cum, baby," he whispered with his forehead leaning against yours. "Gonna make me fuckin' cum. Tha' what you want, baby? Want your daddy to fill this fuckin' pussy up?"

He gave your clit a mean smack but it only made you go faster.

"Need you to cum! Fucking—ohh! Cum for me, please daddy. Want you to f-fill me up!"

Joel began thrusting to meet you halfway, and his eyes stayed locked with yours as he muttered a string of profanities.

"Oh shit. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck. Fuck yes!"

He painted your pussy with his hot, sticky ropes of cum, moaning your name over and over with fluttering eyes and a tight grip on your hips. He thrusted a few more times before pulling out and meeting you with a few more soft kisses as a thank you.

You felt his cum slowly pouring out of your swollen cunt, trailing down his softening cock and on the sheets. You two stayed like that for a while, savoring the moment and taking your time.

A while later while he was cleaning up between your legs he said, "You better upload that video."

"You weren't joking?" You scoffed, wearing a smile.

"I wasn't joking," he said contently.

That night once he had fallen asleep in your bed, you decided to upload the full video uncut with the perfect title...

My DILF Neighbor Comes Over For A Creampie ♡

346K Views | 93% | 16 Hours Ago | ♡ 532

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel tlou #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fandom

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