arielhopepeace - Tumblr blog

arielhopepeace · 9 months

Text

Sorry this part took a bit! Been getting ready to move and now I’m sick lol 😭 but enjoy and check part 1 for more extensive TWs, please ❤️

TW: smut, dirty talk, talk of sexual trauma

18+ only

5,400 words

Part two

My leg bounces about anxiously beneath my desk, constantly checking and re-checking the clock in the bottom right hand corner of my computer screen. It's nearly five, and I'm more than ready to go home and enjoy my weekend. But as every day passes, I become more apprehensive about my date with Joel tomorrow.

Of course he was wonderful, kind, a damn good kisser, and hot beyond belief, but I'm still terrified. Without any sedative-like influence from the alcohol, I'm back to the withered shell of a woman I was when Joel walked into my office.

I can't believe I was fully prepared to sleep with him the other night. I had convinced myself that I was safe enough to do something like that with him, and I'm glad I didn't. What if I kiss Joel again and I panic? Or what if we're ever intimate and I panic? What will he do? Laugh in my face and continue anyway?

No, not Joel. He's too sweet for that, right?

Obviously my libido is calling the shots rather than my rational anxiety. It's been eight years since I've slept with anyone, and I'm jumping into this way too quickly for my liking. Am I crazy? Next time I'm with him, I'm not drinking any alcohol. I need to be myself and not a sedated, sex obsessed freak.

My eyes flutter closed, my lashes dancing against my cheeks as I recall Joel's hands on my body, and his soft, skilled lips against mine. Of course he was eager, he's a man. Is that why he fixed my washer? To get laid?

Part of me is tempted to go off on him for being such a disgusting pervert, but he hasn't done anything to me. My mind is fabricating all of these scenarios and reasons for his kindness when even I know it's probably out of character for Joel.

He's a single dad who lost his wife nine years ago, and who's devoted to his daughter who he's crazy about. Joel seems to be an incredible father. There's no way a man like that would ever try to hurt me, is there?

"Y/n?" I hear from my open office door.

"Yes?" My eyes snap up to see Cynthia, my secretary.

She smiles wide at me. "Are you done for the day?"

I gaze down to see that it's ten after five, meaning I've been sitting here spiraling over Joel for almost twenty minutes.

"Yes," I sigh with a smile. "More than done. I'm ready for the weekend."

Cynthia walks beside me as we leave the building, our cars being parked next to each other's outside.

"You have any exciting plans?" she asks with a large grin.

I decide to not tell her about Joel. "Nah, just me and my wine. You?"

"Ex-husband has the kids this weekend, so I'm probably going to be doing the same as you," she giggles. "Get home safely, y/n, okay?"

"Thanks, Cynthia. You too."

When I get home, I see a lovely bouquet of flowers sitting on my doorstep along with a note. I beam as I unlock my front door, placing the flowers on the kitchen counter and fishing the little card out of the leaves.

Y/n

I'm excited for tomorrow night. I hope you enjoy these flowers as much as I enjoy your company.

Joel

My face aches as I hold the card to my chest, feeling like I'm in a movie or something. I read the note several times, my mouth curling up wider and wider every time. Who knew my cheeks could stretch this far?

I carry the flowers into my bedroom, setting them on the nightstand beside my bed with the card leaning against the pretty blue vase.

I immediately press on Joel's contact, hoping that he's done working for the day. With every ring of the line, my apprehension climbs, until I hear that low, inviting burr of Joel's voice.

"Hey, you," he says sweetly. "I'm assuming you got my gift."

My cheeks burn as I beam at the floor. "I did. Thank you. You didn't have to get me anything, you know."

Joel chuckles lightly. "I wanted to."

The line goes quiet for a moment before Joel speaks again.

"Can I be honest with you?" he asks.

My heart jumps into my throat. "Of course."

"I haven't stopped thinking about you, y/n."

"Same here, honestly," I laugh sheepishly. "I feel like I'm going crazy."

He laughs, the sound warming my chest. "You know, I haven't been on many dates since my wife passed. Maybe only two."

My brows raise in surprise. "Really? How come?"

"Never felt right."

I chew on my bottom lip nervously. "But it does with me?"

"Mhmm," he hums, "very right."

"I guess I should be honest with you too and tell you I haven't been with anyone in eight years."

"What?!" Joel chokes out. "Why? How?"

I swallow hard, shaking my head. "I'd rather talk about it in person. It's—awkward."

"You don't have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, y/n. You never have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

My eyes feel misty at his comforting words, but my mind is screaming at me to keep my walls up. "Thanks, Joel."

"Of course, y/n. As I said, you shouldn't be thanking me for the bare minimum. I'm sorry for whatever guy made you think that's all that you deserve."

Deciding to change the subject before I panic, I quickly swallow my fear that's clawing its way up my throat. "Uh—what time should I meet you tomorrow? And where are we going?"

"I could pick you up, if you want. I'd like it to be a surprise." He audibly smiles in his words.

I can't help but giggle. "Okay, that's fine. Could at least tell me the attire?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Casual-slash-nice? I'll be wearing a button-down and some jeans. Nothing too fancy."

I nod my head, planning my outfit already. "That sounds good to me. What time will you be here?"

"Six-thirty okay with you?"

"That sounds perfect."

"I'll see you tomorrow then, y/n. I have to attempt to make a good dinner for Sarah and I. I told you I was a shit cook, but I do practice so that she's not eating crap food all the time."

I laugh, flopping onto my back on my bed. "You're a good dad, Joel."

"I do my best."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, y/n."

We hang up, and I toss my phone to the side, staring at my ceiling.

Am I making the right choice by going out with him? I won't have any way of getting home if things go poorly, or if he switches and is no longer the man I'm assuming he is. What if he's exactly like...him? I hate saying his name, or even thinking it. Joel can't be evil like him, can he?

***

I'm straightening out my powder blue sundress when there's a knock on my front door. My hands are shaky and I feel like my knees are going to buckle at any moment. Taking a steadying breath, I pull open the front door, revealing a stunning, handsome Joel before me.

He's donned in a black button-up as he said, and dark blue jeans with black dress shoes on his feet. His hair is lightly tamed with some gel, adding a bit of shine to the deep brown strands.

I feel winded at his appearance, and I'm suddenly hoping he feels the same about me. I've done my makeup to the best of my ability, and even went the extra mile to straighten my hair. Even with my heels on, Joel is still taller than me, and I don't know why I enjoy that so much.

"Wow," he breathes out, still standing on my doorstep. "I can't believe you're my date tonight."

My heart soars as I blush, looking down to my floor to try to focus my gaze elsewhere. "Thank you. You look amazing, Joel."

He scoffs. "Next to you, I look like a bum."

I giggle, meeting his soft brown eyes and the straightness of his teeth. "Are you ready?"

Joel nods, reaching his hand out for mine. "If you are."

Tossing all of my anxiety and negative thoughts aside, I grab his hand, locking my front door behind me as he leads me to his truck. He opens the door for me and helps me in, his hand letting go once I'm settled in to the passenger seat.

My eyes follow him as he walks around the front, getting in beside me behind the steering wheel. We gaze at each other for a moment, my focus falling to his delicate lips that I've missed the feeling of, no matter how hard I've tried to deny that fact. I want to want him without feeling afraid, but I can't help it.

"Kiss me," I say gently.

Joel immediately leans forward with his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me into him firmly. His lips are so soft, and his tongue is back again in its eager, talented way. I can't help but moan, his tongue the match that struck across my body to wrap it in delicious flames.

He pulls away, both of us a bit winded from the kiss. "How the hell do you kiss like that if you haven't been with anyone in eight years?"

I giggle slightly as I shrug. "You're a good guide."

Joel chuckles and leans fully away, holding his hand out for me as he keeps the other on the steering wheel, pulling away from my house. I gently slide my fingers into his, feeling euphoric and safe in his truck with him.

Not seeing him for a few days has only made my attraction grow tremendously. How does he melt all of my fears away just by being around me? Nobody has ever done that for me before, or maybe I just never let anybody try. Why am I letting him in?

We park in front of a swanky restaurant, one that I've always passed, but never eaten at. It's New Orleans style food served in a comfortable, yet classy environment. I've always wanted to try it, but it seemed odd to come here alone, even though that's what I prefer.

Joel holds my hand as we walk in, the host guiding us to a table once he tells her the name for our party. The air smells heavenly. It's like Cajun food and Texan food had a baby and this restaurant is the outcome. God bless whoever came up with this place.

The server orders our drinks, and I opt out of getting wine. Joel orders an appetizer for us, my eyes scanning the menu as he does.

"No wine?" he sneers playfully at me. "Thought you were a wine lover."

"I am," I laugh, "but I'd like to be more connected this time."

Joel nods. "That's why I didn't order any beer. I still have to drive you back home, too."

Against everything my brain is telling me, I reach beside me at the table and rub Joel's thigh gingerly. I keep my eyes on the menu, my hand shaking as I bring it to a stop against his pants.

Joel reaches down and grabs my hand, bringing it up to his lips and placing a gentle kiss against it. My gaze moves from the menu to his, seeing the slight concern etched into his face.

"Y/n," he says gently, "you're shaking again."

"I'm sorry," I say quickly. "I guess I'm nervous."

"About what?"

I shake my head. I can't tell him about my traumatic past on our first date, can I? He'll think I'm crazy and divulging way too much information for someone I barely know. It's not like me to open up, but I feel compelled to with him. I want him to know that it's not his fault that I'm so fucking terrified all the time.

"I don't know," I say softly. "I'm sorry."

Joel's brows knit together with worry. "Do you want me to take you home?"

God. That simple question has my anxiety skyrocketing down; that reassurance that if I need to leave at any given moment apparently being all I needed to calm down.

I give him a warm smile, leaning across the corner of the table to place a gentle kiss against his stubbly cheek. "No. I want to be here with you."

He beams at me, kissing my knuckles again. "You're not shaking anymore."

"I know," I beam, turning back to the menu. "Everything sounds so damn good. What are you thinking about getting?"

"Honestly the gumbo sounds amazing, and I've never had any."

"Ooo," I coo, nodding. "That does sound good."

After our food is brought out, Joel takes a generous bite of his dish as I dig into mine. The flavor of everything bursts in my mouth, and I let out a moan of contentment. It's incredible, and I can't believe I've never eaten here before.

Joel holds out his spoon for me with his steaming food piled onto it. "You've gotta try this."

I lean forward and take the spoon between my lips, groaning with a nod as I enjoy the taste of his meal.

"God, that's amazing." I pierce my own food with my fork, holding it out for Joel. "Now try mine."

Watching his lips slide across my fork does something sinful to me, and I'm not entirely sure why.

"This might be the best food I've ever had," he beams.

"I can't believe you haven't eaten here before. This is my favorite restaurant."

"It felt weird to come here alone," I laugh, placing my fork down to sip my water.

Joel eyes me with a glimmer in his eye. "Well, now you don't have to."

My cheeks warm as I break the eye contact, unable to hold it any longer. Although his eyes are kind and gentle, there's something so intimidating about them. Maybe it's because I'm so attracted to him, but god I can't look into them for too long.

We finish our meals and I go to pay, but Joel quickly grabs my card from me, slamming his down into the checkbook instead.

"Absolutely not," he shakes his head as we both laugh. "You can be a control freak all you want on your own time, but I'm paying for dinner tonight."

I giggle loudly, crossing my arms as I do my best to act offended. "Only I can call me a control freak."

He holds up his hands in defense. "I was only quoting you"

I playfully shove him, watching as the server walks away with the bill. "I want to pay for the next date."

Joel leans on the table on his elbows, handing me my card back. "Oh, there's going to be a next date?"

My eyes land on his, admiring the deep chocolate river that flows in them. "Yes."

"Maybe I like that you're a control freak," he beams, his eyes floating down to my lips. "It's charming."

"Charming?" I guffaw. "You don't think I'm crazy?"

"Of course not," he laughs. "Everyone has their quirks, and I want to learn all of yours."

My gaze softens. "Really?"

Joel nods. "Really."

Back at my house, Joel walks me to the front door, giving me a long, lingering kiss before I unlock it.

"Would you like to come in?" I ask somewhat timidly.

He nods with a smile, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "We could watch a movie again, if you wanted."

I beam. "I'd like that a lot."

We enter my house, and I immediately kick off my heels, picking them up by the backs and carrying them into my bedroom. I put them away where they belong, checking my reflection in the mirror to make sure I'm tidy and presentable enough for Joel.

He stands near the couch, my eyes flicking down to his shoes. "You can take those off if you want."

Joel chuckles. "Do you not like shoes on in the house?"

I smirk, walking up beside him. "No, not really."

He laughs, bending down and slipping his shoes off to leave them by the front door near the little entrance carpet.

We sit on the couch, my thumb clicking on the remote to go to any streaming service.

"Do you have to be back to Sarah any time soon?" I ask, suddenly worrying that I'm taking up too much of his time.

"No," he smiles. "I told Mrs. Cheshire that it might be a late night. She knows I'm on a date."

Hearing him say that makes me beam vastly, gazing into his soft eyes. "Yeah, you are."

Joel chuckles, leaning in and placing a soft kiss to my cheek. "What do you want to watch?"

"Anything. How about I stop being a control freak and let you pick?"

He laughs, nodding as he takes the remote from me. "Any particular genre you like to avoid?"

"I'm good with anything, really." My eyes admire his beautiful profile. "You pick."

Joel ends up landing on a rom-com, making my lips tweak up as I giggle. He laughs with me, throwing his arm around my shoulders as I lean into his chest. He smells incredible; the scent warm and musky yet clean. I inhale him deeply, needing more of him.

My head turns up to face his, admiring the stubble along his jaw. Joel flicks his gaze down to look at me, giving me a gentle smile.

"What?" he asks quietly as the movie plays in the background.

"You're a handsome man, Joel."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "It blows my mind that you think that."

"You're delusional."

"No, you're just that beautiful."

My lips attach to his in an instant, a hungry, needy feeling washing over me. I'm consumed by my own greed to have him near, desperate to have him closer. I slip my tongue against his, savoring the taste of Cajun food and Joel.

His hands rest on my hips, gripping them tightly as he begins to push me back onto the couch. My head hits the cushion gently as our lips never part, the weight of him feeling—suffocating and overwhelming. The horrible thoughts begin to flood my mind, and I do my best to push them away. But Joel is on me, devouring my mouth and keeping his grip on my hips. I can't do it. It's too much.

"Joel," I breathe, my chest beginning to heave.

"Yes, y/n?" he rasps, his lips on my neck.

"No!" I shout, pushing at his shoulders roughly.

He immediately flies back, fear and confusion staining his wonderful, beautiful face. "Y/n, hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Before even realizing it, I'm crying and shaking, curling into myself on my cushion that I was just pressed against moments ago. I close my eyes, hoping that it'll vanish. Whether it's the thoughts or Joel, I don't care. I just need them to go away.

"Remember the breathing?" he says quietly, sounding so far away it's like I'm floating in space. "Breathe with me, y/n."

My hands are over my ears, and my eyes are squeezed shut. I slowly open them to look at Joel, watching his chest inflate and deflate slowly. I follow his rhythm, moving my hands slowly away from my head to hear his deep breaths. He encourages me, smiling gently with those soft eyes of his melting me.

His hand slowly reaches out to grab mine and I let him, watching as he places it against his heart. It's racing against my palm, but his breathing is easy and calm.

"Joel," I begin, but he shushes me gently.

"Just keep breathing for a minute. Follow mine."

We sit there gazing at each other, easily breathing in and out for a few minutes until both of our hearts are no longer pounding hard against our chests.

"I need to tell you something," I say, hanging my head.

Joel brings my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "I'm sorry, y/n."

My brows pitch up. "What for?"

"I came on too strong and I scared you. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."

"No," I shake my head. "Joel, it's not your fault."

His vast, saddened eyes search mine, wrenching my heart. "I never want to scare you, y/n."

"Please, it's not your fault, I promise."

He nods, kissing my knuckles again.

"I haven't been with anyone in eight years because I was—" Words fail me, and I seem incapable of explaining what happened to me in this moment.

"You were what?" Joel asks gently.

"T-taken advantage of by my ex-boyfriend and his friend when I was seventeen."

Joel's face twists with disgust, and the tenderness has left his eyes. "My god, I'm so sorry, y/n."

"No," I shake my head, "please don't pity me. I don't want your pity."

He gingerly reaches out and cups my face, my cheek pushing more into his touch. "It's not pity, y/n. It's compassion."

A tear falls from my eye, and Joel swipes it with his thumb. "I panicked when you first took me to the supply store for the washer hose because I was scared I wouldn't come back home. With—him—I had no way of leaving. I was trapped."

Joel frowns. "Honey, you didn't have to go with me."

I smile faintly at the pet name. "But I wanted to. I wanted to spend time with you."

"Y/n, listen to me," he cups my face in both hands, "we don't ever have to do anything you're uncomfortable with. I don't care what it is, it won't happen if you're uncomfortable. Do you hear me?"

I nod. "I still want you, Joel. I want you so badly."

"We don't have to rush into anything. I haven't even slept with anyone in years. I'll wait for you, y/n. I want to wait until you're ready."

My eyes soften as I hang my head. "God, you're amazing, you know that?"

"I'm not amazing, y/n. I'm just being a decent human. You're still fragile, and I don't want to—"

I scowl. "I'm not fragile."

Joel frowns slightly. "I didn't mean to offend you, I just don't want you doing something if it's too soon."

"Joel, I've spent the last eight years being terrified of men. You're the first man I've let kiss me in eight years. I'm not a porcelain doll. I'm a woman that's healing, and you're helping me put on the band-aids."

He smiles gently. "I'm the luckiest damn man in the world."

I scoff, sniffling a bit. "You think you're lucky because you have a trauma victim that likes you?"

"You're not that to me at all," he shakes his head. "To me, you're a strong woman who's beginning to trust. And only god knows why I'm the one who made you want to start. I'm just happy to be here with you."

My body leans forward, wrapping my arms around his neck as I push our chests together. Our lips and tongues connect effortlessly, like it's second nature for us at this point. I fling my leg over his, straddling him and pinning his thighs to the cushion.

"Y/n," Joel pulls away, his eyes searching mine, "please, if you're not ready—"

"Shut up, Joel," I tell him, reattaching our lips.

My fingers are in his hair, his hands on my hips as I gently rock them back and forth against him. I can feel how hard he is beneath me, and it only spurs me on further.

I've never ridden anyone before, but it doesn't take an expert to figure out how to do it. My hands fumble with the buttons of his shirt, our lips never leaving each other's as I work at his shirt.

"Touch me," I breathe against his lips, continuing our kiss.

Joel's hands stay at my hips, rubbing them tenderly.

His shirt lays open, and I part our kiss to give him a look of disapproval. "Joel, I didn't tell you the truth so that you'd be scared of me." I bring his hands up from my hips to my breasts. "I said touch me."

He leans up to reconnect the kiss, his palms against me, kneading my chest through my dress. His hands move down beneath it, sliding up my bare thighs until he's gripping my ass tightly.

"You tell me if you want me to stop anything," he says gruffly, his eyes alight with hunger.

I nod, desperate to return to his lips.

His hands move up the sides of my dress, and I part our mouths for a moment just so he can lift it off over my head. My fingers are on his jeans, shaking from desperation as I do my best to unfasten the button. Joel helps me, making quick work of his jeans until he's sat beneath me in only his boxers.

I lick my lips in anticipation, staring down at the thick, weighty erection that rests beneath me.

"I don't have any condoms, y/n," Joel says with a ragged breath.

"I don't care. I'm on the pill."

Joel's fingers play with the band of my panties, and I can tell he's still hesitant to touch me. My lips trail along his jaw and neck as I guide his hand into the fabric that he's toying with. A small groan leaves his lips once his fingers come in contact with my slit, making me clench down onto nothing.

"Oh, my god," he groans slightly, his head falling back against the back of the couch. "You're so fucking wet."

I hum against him, sliding my tongue from his collar bone up to his earlobe. "Just for you, Joel."

He eases a finger gently inside of me, stopping my body in its tracks as a shudder of pleasure runs through me. Joel moves it out slowly, pushing it back in with ease. My hands are on his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly as I let out a quiet moan against his neck.

"Gotta prep you, honey. I won't fit if I don't get you ready for me."

My breath hitches in my throat as he works a second finger into me, my lips tucking between my teeth. "Fuck," I breathe out shakily.

"God, you're so tight," he groans. "Don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't," I whisper. "Please, I need you."

My hands hook into the sides of his boxers, pulling them down so that they're resting on his thighs with his jeans. Joel's fingers move up to my clit, making me gasp at the sudden contact.

"Cum first and then I'm yours."

"Joel," I groan, my head leaning back. "Please."

He rubs me easily, swirling my little bundle of nerves in quick, neat circles that have my thighs already quivering with anticipation.

"It's okay, y/n," he coos. "You don't have to beg. You'll have me."

My body is on fire, and my chest is heaving dramatically. I'm already so close to the edge; so close to a feeling I haven't experienced in years, not even when I'm alone. I never wanted to. I've never been so hungry for an orgasm than I am right now with Joel beneath me and his fingers against me.

That blinding rush of euphoria courses through my body and I scream out, my entrance fluttering as my release takes over me. Joel groans quietly, his fingers guiding me through it until I'm shivering from the overstimulation.

He gently pulls my face down to his, kissing me deeply and passionately. I take his thick cock into my hands, groaning at the sheer size and weight of him. My other hand moves down to pull my panties to the side, rubbing Joel's tip through my soaking apex.

"Fuck," he curses, briefly breaking the kiss. "Tell me again that you want me."

I nod, biting my lip. "I want you so bad, Joel."

"I'm yours, y/n. Take me."

I pull away, leaning up onto my knees as I position myself above him. With one hand on him at the base, I gently start to ease myself down. My jaw unhinges, my eyes open wide from the overwhelming feeling of the stretch of him. I feel full, and he's not even halfway in yet.

Joel grips my hips tightly, his eyes on where we're connecting. "Take your time. I don't want it to hurt."

"It doesn't," I breathe out sharply. "Just—a lot."

He chuckles cheekily, the sound seemingly vibrating through my body to send another rush of arousal to where he's stretching me out. I move my hand, allowing myself to settle at the bottom as we both let out a coo of approval.

"Go slow," Joel says gently.

I breathe, adjusting to him still, feeling stretched beyond belief. "Don't tell me what to do."

Joel laughs, his fingers quickly undoing the clasps of my bra. He attaches his mouth to my left nipple, making me shriek and tense up around him. He groans against me, his eyes briefly squeezing shut.

I slowly start to move up and down, groaning out towards the ceiling from the intense pleasure. Joel drops his fingers to my slick bud again, immediately making me clench down on him.

He groans, moving to my other nipple. "You're so beautiful," he praises. "Riding me so good, y/n."

His compliments spur me on, and I move my hips faster, becoming more and more acclimated to the stretch of him. My moans are constant. Every time he's buried in me to the hilt, I can't help but cry out into the emptiness of my home.

"Joel," I moan, my eyes squeezed shut. "Please, I'm so close."

His free hand comes up and grips me behind my neck, pulling my lips down to press against his briefly. "I know, honey. Can feel you squeezing me. Cum on me, y/n."

His words are my undoing, and I'm crumbling. My walls are flexing against him and my teeth are sinking into the skin of his neck, needing something to keep me grounded to earth.

Joel groans loudly, only making my orgasm more intense. "Yes, y/n," he moans. "Tell me how I feel."

"G-good," I shudder, kissing the teeth marks on his neck. "Please, Joel."

"What, honey? Tell me what you want."

"Fuck me."

His hands immediately go to my hips, his legs adjusting a bit before he starts to thrust up into me, the quick pace making me scream and bury my face back into his neck.

"Oh, my god!" I cry, my eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck, Joel, please."

"I can't hold it anymore, y/n. Tell me where you want it," he says gruffly. "Tell me."

"Inside of me!"

Joel's fingers dig into my skin so tightly I'm sure they'll leave bruises. He cries out, his head tilting back as I feel him throbbing inside of me. Every spurt of cum and jerk of his hips makes me groan, and I finally open my eyes once I feel his release stop pouring into me.

His hands move to my bare back, caressing me gently from the bottom of my spine to the top. He rubs me silently for a few moments, both of us just panting and breathing together.

"Please tell me how you are," Joel finally says. "I need to know."

"I'm perfect," I breathe, moving my head out of the crook of his neck. "More than perfect."

He beams at me, leaning up to pull me in to a wonderful, tender kiss that has my heart soaring.

"You're incredible," he says as our foreheads press together. "I can't believe you like me."

I giggle, shaking my head. "Would you stop it? You're perfect, Joel. I mean it."

He chuckles, kissing me again. "What do you want me to do?"

I cock my head. "About what?"

"Do you want me to stay the night? Or would you rather me go home?"

"Stay," I smile. "Please."

He beams at me. "I was hoping you'd say that."

****

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #smut #yn fanfic #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou smut

48 notes · View notes

arielhopepeace · 10 months

Text

Welcome, my loves, to another Joel Miller fanfic! Please be sure to read the trigger warnings before reading this story since this one focuses on the traumatic past of y/n ❤️ it shows how she’s able to push past the trauma to find love in a man again. This is something I have personal experience with, and I know how hard it can be. So, I’m hoping that it may be a comfort to anybody who needs it. It certainly was comforting to write 💕

She is a successful 25 year old lawyer, and Joel is a successful 35 year old dad who owns his own carpentry business and seeks out y/n for help! This was a story suggestion from a good friend of mine, and I hope you all enjoy it.

Part two is here

18+ only

Tw: smut, talk of sexual assault, trauma flashbacks, anxiety, panic attacks, age gap, talk of death of loved ones, talk of drug abuse

Word count: 7,500

"Ms. Y/l/n, your three o' clock is here," my receptionist says gently over the intercom.

I let out a preemptive sigh, squaring my shoulders as I adjust myself in my chair. It's not common for me to take on male clients, being that I'm not particularly fond of them.

The only man in my life is my dad. Even though he lives about an hour away, we still talk every day with the occasional FaceTime chat so that we can see each other when our schedules are too busy for in-person meetings. He's my rock. He got me through the most difficult times in my life, and worked two jobs just to put me through college.

Thanks to him, I'm now an accomplished lawyer at twenty-five years old. I owe my life to my dad, and I know that no other man could ever live up to everything he's done for me. It doesn't matter if they tried. I'd never trust them, anyway.

"Send him in," my voice barks.

It's not Cynthia's fault that I'm on edge about a man coming into my office. It's only that he's the first man I'll have been alone with since...him; the name that I never allow to pass my lips, the name that any time I hear it out in public it makes me cringe and spark that bit of fear in my chest. He is the reason for my total disrespect and mistrust for men, because he showed me how truly evil they can be.

There's a knock on my office door, and I let out a short, clipped entry to the client. He steps in and closes the door behind himself, the lock clicking only promoting my apprehension for accepting his case. I wish my boss wouldn't have talked me into it; wish he wouldn't have made a fuss about me not accepting a male client and how it's not ethical. I can accept whatever client I damn well please, and I don't want a man telling me otherwise. But I have to keep my job. It's always been my dream to be a lawyer. It was my father's dream, too, but he could never afford the schooling. That's why he worked so hard to make sure I got in. He wanted it for me as badly as he wanted it for himself.

"Hi, I'm Joel Miller," the man's voice interrupts me from mindlessly shuffling through papers on my desk.

When I turn my gaze up to his I feel myself gulp, flicking my eyes briefly over to the shut door before having them settle back onto his. They're soft and brown, inviting, and seeming wholly innocent. His skin is tanned and smooth, only having slight wrinkles at the creases of his eyes. He has dark hair that's a bit longer, resulting in small, half-curls scattered sporadically on his head.

His hand is extended to mine, and I stand, reluctantly taking it to maintain professionalism. I never should've accepted a male client. My heart rate must be through the roof at this point, my palms a sweaty mess that he probably took notice of. God, get it together, y/n. It's your job.

"How can I help you today, Mr. Miller?" My voice projects smoothly, not having a hint of anxiety in it.

How did I manage to pull that off?

He shifts a bit in his seat before his eyes meet mine, still having that magnetic, gentle demeanor to them. "Well, I just wanted to say thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

I smile with a nod, even though I didn't really have a choice. My boss was so heavily insisting that I chose a male client, that he basically threw this guy into my lap.

"Of course, Mr. Miller."

"I own Miller Carpentry over on Hugh street," he gestures a tanned finger in the general direction, "and recently I hired a few new people to go do some jobs independently without me being a shadow. Well, that was a mistake. One of them took the money from a few jobs and never gave me, the company, a percentage of it."

My pen glides across the paper as I take notes of his claim, trying not to focus on the fact that we're alone in the room. I make bullet points of everything I'd like to incorporate if this gets brought to court, adding potential selling points beneath each sentence.

"And I'm assuming you tried to reach out and you had no luck?"

Joel shrugs. "It's like he's a ghost. Can't find him anywhere."

"How much did he make off with? Do you know?"

He exhales sharply. "At least five grand."

My eyes flick to the closed door again, letting out a gentle sigh as I try to relax. "I'll contact a friend at the police station and see if he can't find your worker. If he doesn't pay, he'll go to jail and end up having to pay you back one way or another."

"I contacted police, and they said to find a lawyer in the meantime because he most likely won't just give it up."

I scoff as I roll my eyes. "People are untrustworthy."

Joel beams at me once I stop scribbling, my tense body shifting again. "In the ten years I've had my business, this is the first time this has happened, so I'd like to say that's not true."

"Ah, so you're a carpenter and an optimist. Sounds exhausting."

He laughs heartily, the sound slightly relaxing me. "I think it's only normal for lawyers to be pessimists. You deal with criminals for a living."

"I like to avoid taking on cases that make me uncomfortable, Mr. Miller. So, no. I don't normally deal with criminals."

His fingers scratch at his slight facial hair as he continues smiling. The hairs are gray mixed with mostly black, like a medley of salt and pepper.

"I don't blame you. I couldn't do it. It's mentally demanding, I'm sure."

My mouth twists up slightly. "It entertains my therapist."

Joel chuckles, my shoulders relaxing a bit more. "I wanted to discuss cost with you. How much will you cost if we go to court and we win?"

"When you win, it'll be about two and a half grand."

He breathes out heavily. "Okay, I can swing that. I'll be able to use the half of what I'm owed from him, then."

"There's cheaper lawyers out there, Mr. Miller. If finances are an issue, I can refer you to someone else."

He shakes his head vehemently. "A friend suggested you to me, and she said you were great. So, I thought it would be best to go to someone that has a good reputation."

I beam. "I'm glad to hear good things about me."

Joel grins back, flashing a neat, white smile. I'm ashamed to admit that I find him incredibly attractive. It's been years since I've looked at a man in any way other than a predator, but Joel seems—kind. I'm immediately putting an end to those thoughts, shaking my head in disgust for betraying the promise I made to myself when I was seventeen. I'll never let a man in again, and I intend on keeping that promise.

Clearing my throat, I pick up my pen again. "May I have your home and email addresses, please?"

He recites them to me and I scribble them down, nodding my thanks.

"I'll keep in touch via email with any updates on what I hear back. Could I also get the man's first and last name?"

"Kevin Bridges," Joel says bitterly. "Bastard."

I chuckle, a sudden buzzing interrupting the meeting. Joel pulls his phone out and gives me an apologetic look before he answers the call.

"Hi, honey, I'm in an important meeting. Are you okay?" Joel hums sweetly.

Must be his wife, right? I glance over to his left hand and notice an empty ring finger. Okay, his girlfriend, then.

"I'll be home soon. Just stay with Mrs. Cheshire until I get there, okay? I don't want you home alone." His eyes briefly flick to mine and I smile. "Okay. I love you too, Sarah. Bye." Joel sighs with raised brows as he beams. "I'm sorry, that was my daughter."

"Oh," I grin, for some reason feeling relieved. "How old is she?"

"Ten. She thinks she's a full-grown adult who can stay home unsupervised. I just have her go by the neighbor's when I don't make it home in time after school. She's an old lady that loves my Sarah to death."

My chest aches when he talks about his daughter, so much enthusiasm and evident love in his words. It reminds me of my dad and I, and it makes me miss him desperately.

"Sarah seems like a lucky girl to have you as her dad," I smile. "It's just me and my dad, too. My mom left the picture when I was very little. Drugs."

Joel's brows knit with what I can only describe as sympathy. I don't want him to pity me. "I'm sorry. Sarah's mom died when she was a baby, so she doesn't really know what it's like to have a mom."

"I'm sorry for your loss." My voice is robotic, as I always have to be to detach myself from my clients. "Poor girl," I say with a hint of my genuine emotion.

"Ah, she's wonderful. Highest grades in her class, and quick as a whip," he laughs fondly. "Definitely gets it from her mom."

I chuckle, clearing my throat as I stand, holding my hand out. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Miller. I'll be in touch."

He stands, too, taking my palm into his and giving a firm shake. "It was very nice meeting you, Ms. Y/l/n. Thank you again."

I nod, practically sprinting to the door to allow the fresh air into my suffocating office. Joel walks out with a grin, my eyes briefly following him before I disappear behind my desk again. It feels like I can finally breathe now that he's not here. It's not that I felt unsafe or uncomfortable in his presence, but it's exactly that fact that concerns me. Last time I felt comfortable around a man, horrible things happened. I can't let a man force his power over me ever again. I won't let it happen.

My house is empty as it always is when I walk in, the crisp air greeting me in the delicious way it does to alleviate my warmed body from the scorching summer weather. It's July, and I'm convinced the sweltering heat will be the death of me.

I kick off my heels and strip off my stockings from beneath my skirt, laying them on my neatly made bed before walking naked to the shower. The hot water is a welcoming feeling after the stress of the day.

Joel Miller is the first male stranger I've been alone in a room with since I was seventeen, which was eight years ago. He was friendly and handsome, but he also needed something from me. Men are always nice to you when they need something. I can't think about his soft brown eyes and expect them to be just as inviting when he no longer needs my help.

How am I going to continue meeting him in private until his case is solved? I'm so damned anxious the entire time, and it eats me alive. Yes, he seems kind, but so do all men until it's their time to strike and you instantly become their prey.

Panic consumes me, reliving the horrible, violent memories that I've experienced as I fall to the shower floor, holding myself tightly in my arms. I was so young, and somebody that I loved and trusted took advantage of me. Of course I've somewhat moved passed the sexual abuse, but there's always my days where something triggers my brain, and I'm in a rough state for the remainder of my time awake.

Today is one of those days. Joel's presence set me into a downward spiral of all-consuming panic. I'm tempted to plead to my boss about it, and beg for him to be reassigned elsewhere, but I know he won't have it without an explanation.

Nobody knows what happened to me when I was seventeen besides my dad and a few police officers. My ex-boyfriend who abused me, Justin, got a few months in jail since he was also seventeen. The man who helped him, however, was twenty-four at the time and got sentenced to one year in prison. I wanted the judge to grant a lengthier sentence, but since it was their first offenses, he cut them some slack.

Being a lawyer, I've had several opportunities to defend sexual assault victims, and I have. I've always advocated for lengthier sentences, and almost every time I'm met with a judge who takes my suggestion. I can't help but wonder if Joel's friend who suggested me to him was a woman who I've helped with a sexual assault case.

I'm glad that it's not common knowledge amongst the public about my past. It's not something I want people knowing and pitying me for, or thinking I'd be too emotional to do my job. Never once have I lost my composure in a court room during one of those cases, and I never will.

Before anything else, I'm a professional, and I don't let my emotions get the best of me at work. I'm not the type to express my feelings, either, not even to my dad. He always knows when something's bothering me, but I normally change the subject and brush it off as to just being tired. It's just hard to open up. I hate doing it.

Later as I lay in bed, slightly wine-drunk and ready for sleep, I'm reminded of the gentle burr of Joel Miller's voice. His hand was heavy and calloused in mine, making me feel as if someone had just given me a massive weight to hold. His tanned skin flashes in my mind, and I can't help but wonder what he smells like. Does he have a specific scent that smells just as manly as he appears?

Without realizing, I'm grinning with my eyes closed, picturing my fingers in his loose, soft-looking hair as I inhale whatever aroma lingers on his neck.

***

My eyes scan the document in front of me, nodding as I copy a few pieces of information and type it into my email for a client. A slight ding hums through my computer, and I instantly click on my email notification.

To: Y/n Y/l/n

Subject: Rat Bastard

Hi, Ms. Y/l/n,

I was just reaching out to let you know that the son of a bitch was finally caught. He agreed to give me back what was owed to me, and wants to avoid court and jail at all costs. I decided to not press charges even though he's still a bastard. Thank you again for all of your help so quickly. I really appreciate it. I know that you don't need to be paid unless you win the case, but I still took up your time. If you ever need some carpentry work done around your house, I'll do whatever you need for free. Please don't hesitate to call or text if you ever need anything. My number is 276-555-0909. Thank you again.

Joel Miller

A little sigh leaves my curled lips, my heart drumming in my chest. I'm relieved yet saddened that Joel won't be joining me in my office anymore. Of course I know that I can contact him at any time, but I don't need any carpentry work done around the house even a little bit.

My washer has been on the fritz, leaking a bit almost every time I do laundry, but I was just going to buy a new one. The one I have isn't old, there's just something wrong with it. Should I ask Joel for help with it?

No, that's ridiculous, right?

How insane am I that I'm letting a strange man into my house just because I want to spend some time around him? No, I'm crazy. I can't do that. What if he hurt me? What if he tried to attack me?

I immediately halt my racing thoughts, closing his email and resuming my other one. Just because I find Joel attractive, doesn't mean that I can just start letting my sky high walls down. He's still a man, and that makes him dangerous.

At home, I finish my call with my dad. We caught up on our current work lives and anything new that's happened. It's luckily all the same as usual, and we made plans to see each other soon.

My bare feet patter into my laundry room, seeing that there's a puddle on the floor, making me scoff and curse. It feels like the universe is telling me to call Joel and have him come over to help me, but I'm too afraid.

If I invite him over, he'll be the first man ever in this house, and I don't want to forsake my promise. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, I let out a sharp exhale, pulling up the email app to copy Joel's number, pasting it into my phone. My thumb hovers over the "call" option, my heart feeling like it's about to leap out of my chest.

Before I realize what I've done, the line is trilling, and it's too late to hang up now.

"Hello?" he answers curiously.

"Hi, Mr. Miller. It's y/n y/l/n."

"Oh, hi!" Joel says brightly. "I take it you got my email, then."

"Yes," I say shyly, clearing my throat. "Um, are you busy?"

The line is quiet for a moment, then he speaks. "No, actually. I just settled into the couch with Sarah to watch some show that she likes, but I don't think she cares whether I'm here to watch it or not," he laughs. "What's up? Is everything okay?"

"How much do you know about fixing washing machines?"

Joel chuckles. "I'm a very handy man, Ms. Y/l/n."

"Mine has been leaking for a bit, and I just walked into my laundry room to find a huge puddle. You think you can help?"

"Definitely. I'll grab my tools. Could you send me your address? I'll leave now."

I clear my throat, panic constricting it. "Uh, if you're comfortable with it, you can bring Sarah. I know you said you usually leave her with the neighbor if you can't supervise her."

Joel laughs lightly. "I'm not sure if she'll want to come, but I'll ask her. Thank you for thinking of her. That's sweet of you."

I giggle, the thought of Sarah being here comforting me. "Of course. I'll see you soon."

"Bye."

"Bye." I hang up.

I'm suddenly scrambling to my bathroom, drying my wet feet on the carpet that lays in front of the sink. My fingers run through my hair in an anxious manner, attempting to tame it a bit. I opt for throwing it up into a messy bun, reapplying my subtle makeup just a bit to my eyes.

Why am I trying to look good for Joel? God knows. I haven't been this way in years, but something about him just draws me in. Everything in my mind is screaming at me to not give in, and to stay alone as I had planned to. It's safer when you're alone. There's no one here to hurt you. It's just you and solitude.

When I hear my doorbell, my heart picks up its pace, and the panic has settled in to my bones. I'm letting in deep breaths, breathing them out slowly. Joel won't hurt me, right? He's only here to fix my washer. He wouldn't do anything else...right?

I swing open the door and see Joel with a smile fitted onto his face, and a large toolbox in his right hand. He's wearing dark blue jeans that hang from his hips, a white v-neck shirt and large brown work boots on his feet.

My eyes search for his daughter, desperately hoping that she's here. "Hi, thanks for coming by." I gesture him inside.

Joel nods and steps in, standing in the living room. "Your house is beautiful. When did you buy it?"

"Last year," my voice croaks, making me clear it. "But thank you. I like it a lot. It's my favorite home I've ever lived in."

He chuckles, his eyes briefly on the floor before they meet mine again. "Care to show me to your flood?"

I laugh, beginning to walk toward the laundry room. I open the door, revealing the several towels that I've laid out to clean up the mess. Joel steps right onto them, his boots leaving a distinct print in the fabric.

"Did you turn the water off to the house?"

I nod. "Yes, actually. I figured that might be a problem."

Joel settles down onto his knees on the damp tile, opening the washer door. "Just don't want to be sprayed."

My eyes linger back to the closed front door, shifting in the entryway of the laundry room. "So, Sarah didn't want to come, I take it?"

"Nah, she wanted to watch her show. I told you she didn't care if I was there or not."

I giggle, admiring the flex of his biceps as he stretches into the washer. "I'm sorry to pull you away."

"No, don't be," he beams at me. "I'm more than happy to help you."

"Would you like a drink, Mr. Miller?"

He chuckles. "Water would be fine, and please call me Joel."

"Right," I smile, my cheeks feeling hot.

I leave the laundry room, making my way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water out of the fridge, walking it back to Joel where half of his body is inside of the washing machine. My lingering gaze admires the strength of his thighs in his jeans. He's such a man.

God, what is he doing to me? I never think like this. Not even about handsome celebrities I see on tv.

"Here you go," I finally say, setting the bottle down beside him. "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"No. I think I see your problem, though."

"Oh, yeah?" I ask hopefully. "What is it?"

"There's a bit of a hole in your water connection. I'm not sure how that happened, but you'll need a new pipe."

I sigh, shaking my head. "How much do those cost?"

He leans out of the washer, standing up. "Free, because I'm buying it."

My eyebrows fit together. "Joel, I can't have you purchase the part and install it. It's too much."

"You helped me. Now I want to help you."

"I barely did anything."

He smiles vastly. "But you were willing to do everything."

"It's just my job." My voice is small.

Joel eyes me. "Do you not like people doing things for you?"

I sink in to myself, my cheeks feeling hot. "I don't know. I guess not."

"Hm," he smirks. "Would you like to go to the supply store with me for a new hose?"

"Sure," I say before even thinking.

Joel beams as we exit the room, my hands shaking as I slide on my shoes. I grip my keys, feeling them jingle more than necessary from my trembling as I lock the front door. I turn around to see a large black truck, relaxing a bit at the roominess of the cab.

Why did I agree to having Joel drive me around town? The last man who ever drove me anywhere was Justin, and I was stuck where he took me, having horrible things done to me with no escape. The memory makes me wince as panic twists in my chest.

Joel opens my door for me, and I look to him with a shocked expression. He holds his hand out for me to grab and surprisingly I do, loading myself into the passenger seat of his truck.

He steps into the driver's seat, my eyes adverted away from him as I buckle my seatbelt. My leg is bouncing anxiously, my gaze fixed out the passenger window.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Joel asks gently from beside me as we drive down my road.

"Yeah," I say breathlessly. "Sorry, just a long day."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

My head turns to look at him, and he's giving me a gentle smile back, the wrinkles by his eyes deepening. His eyes are still that puppy-dog style brown that is alluring and comforting all at once. He isn't looking at me any differently than he was in my office, and he no longer needs anything from me.

"Oh, uh, just a difficult case, I guess. I can't give too many details, you know," I fib.

He nods, "Of course. Well, from what I've heard, you're a wonderful lawyer. My friend raved about you."

"Who's your friend?"

"Vivian Meyers. You helped her with her sexual assault case."

My body stiffens. Damn, I knew it. "Oh, yes. I remember her."

His eyes soften as they look to me. "You really helped her get justice."

"It's just what should've been done. Too many of those creeps get away with light sentences. I don't let that happen, if I can help it."

He beams wide at me, turning his gaze back to the road. "You're an incredible woman, y/n."

My cheeks warm to his compliment, my body wiggling in my seat. "Thank you."

After the supply store, Joel gets right to work on the washing machine, shoving his body behind it to unscrew the faulty hose on the outside to replace it. My stomach turns with hunger, my hand flying to it to grip it tightly. I was far too anxious to eat earlier, and now I'm suffering the consequences of that decision.

"Can I treat you to dinner?" I ask Joel, gazing at his legs since it's the only part of him I can see.

He laughs. "You don't have to repay me for this, y/n. I really don't mind."

"C'mon," I laugh, "please? You've been so kind."

Joel lets out a loud, dramatic sigh, making me giggle. "Fine. What did you have in mind?"

"Ooo, something simple. I'm not much of a cook."

He laughs. "That makes two of us. I'm good with anything. I'm not picky."

"Chinese food?"

"God, my stomach is growling just thinking about it. Yes, please," he says loudly.

I chuckle as I pull out my phone, adding a few things to the basket that I want. "What do you like? I ordered chicken and broccoli, egg rolls, pork fried rice, and steamed dumplings."

"Oh, god," he groans playfully, the sound stirring something unfamiliar within me. "Yes. All of that sounds perfect. Maybe just add a general tso's chicken and that'll be good. That's my favorite."

"You got it."

"I'll be done in about five minutes. The old hose is almost off," he grunts as he exerts himself. "Forgive me for not being dainty for dinner."

I laugh, watching him reach his hand out for the new hose. "Please. I'm just in my comfy home clothes. You're fine."

"I'm a mess and I smell like old water. You sure you want me to stay?"

"Joel, please," I almost scold. "Yes, I want you to stay."

My eyes widen as I realize what I've just said. I've broken so many of my rules today, and I don't know what to make of it. I've let him in my house, let him drive me around, and now I'm insisting that he stays for dinner. What is this man doing to me?

Joel pops out from behind the washing machine a bit later, the Chinese food saying it'll arrive in twenty minutes. His white shirt is dampened on the side, causing it to be a bit see through. His body looks soft, but still in shape. I'm not even sure how old he is, but I know he has to be older than me by at least a few years since he has a daughter that's ten.

My eyes linger on his wet shirt. "I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you to change in to."

He shrugs with a smile. "If you don't mind, neither do I." His eyes look around as we leave the laundry room, making our way to the living room. "So, you live alone, I take it?"

"Yes," I breathe. "Being alone is one of my favorite things."

Joel chuckles. "Not me. I couldn't stand it if I didn't have Sarah. She's a blessing for many reasons."

I smile as I walk into my kitchen, bending down into my fridge to pull out an amber bottle. "Beer?"

He nods. "Didn't take you for a beer drinker."

"I keep them around for my dad, actually," I chuckle. "More of a wine drinker, if I'm honest."

Joel twists off the top and discards it on the counter, leaning against it as I take out my wine that I was drinking just last night, thinking of the man standing before me as I fell asleep.

"Where does your dad live?" he asks.

"Oh, about an hour from here. We see each other when we can since we both work like crazy."

He grins wide at me. "What does he do?"

"He works in a warehouse. I'm always worried he's going to hurt himself, but it keeps him in good shape."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. How old is he?"

"He's forty-five. My mom and him had me when they were both young."

Joel's brows furrow, seemingly wanting to say something upsetting, but it looks like he decides against it when his face changes. "Yeah, my wife and I had Sarah when I was twenty-five."

He's thirty-five?! God, he's still so young, but older than me by a decent amount. Why do I find that so attractive?

"You said your wife passed away," I begin cautiously, "how did she die?"

He gives me a soft, small smile. "Car accident. She was on her way to work and someone t-boned her on the driver's side going sixty miles an hour. They told me it was quick and she didn't feel anything."

My hand reaches out and grips his forearm. "God, Joel, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. It was nine years ago. I've come to terms with it and learned how to cope. It took a long time, but—" his voice trails off. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be depressing."

"No! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." I suddenly move my hand, realizing that it was lingering against his skin.

"Y/n," he chuckles, shaking his head, "you can always ask me anything."

We stand there smiling at each other for a moment, the air feeling electrically charged between us. I take a sharp breath in as the doorbell ding rips me from my little daydreaming bubble, and I slightly jump before scurrying away to the front door.

The young girl hands me the food and I thank her as she leaves, gathering the bags in my hands and settling them down gently onto the coffee table.

"Not the dining room?" Joel asks with a slight chuckle.

I grab the remote and flip on the tv. "Thought we could do with some entertainment."

He leaves to go to the kitchen, returning with my wine and his beer, placing them on the table beside the food. "I'm good with anything."

Joel sits beside me on the couch, and I'm hyper-aware of how close he is. I pull out all of the food, quickly finishing the wine in my glass before I pour myself some more.

I turn on a random movie that's playing, not really knowing what it is. "Chopsticks?" I hand him a pair.

Joel takes them and breaks them apart, giving me a slight smirk. "Do you want me to grab a plate?"

"Only if you want them. I'm fine with just eating out of the containers. Doing dishes might be my least favorite thing to do."

He laughs loudly, his head cocked back. "For someone who doesn't like doing dishes, your house is extremely clean."

"Well, I'm a bit of a control freak, I guess. I'm lazy, but my brain doesn't let me be."

Joel chuckles, flashing that gorgeous smile of his. "Being a control freak probably comes from being a lawyer."

No, it's because I don't trust anybody and I must do everything that I can myself.

"Yeah," I lie, chuckling slightly.

I dig my chopsticks into the chicken, pushing the meat and broccoli between the thin wood before bringing it to my lips. I groan at the flavor, my stomach growling in delight.

"This is so good," I moan, nodding my head.

Joel takes a bite and rolls his eyes in enjoyment. "This is exactly what I needed. I usually eat dinner by now."

"Me, too. I was just too distracted with the washer. I'm sorry for dragging you out here."

He shakes his head. "I wanted to help. Please, stop apologizing. You don't ever have to apologize to me."

I swallow the dry lump of attraction that has formed in my throat, leaning forward to pour myself more wine, quickly downing the glass.

Joel laughs as he glances at me. "I guess today was really tough, then?"

No, being near you is next to impossible.

"Yes," I lie again, pouring myself another glass. "I'm glad you got your money back. I'm surprised he was so willing to give it back once he was caught. Most people would fight it."

He shrugs. "He's stupid."

I laugh, shoveling some rice into my mouth with a hand beneath the chopsticks to prevent any rice from falling onto the floor.

"Most men are," I blurt out.

Joel laughs. "I'd love to say you're wrong, but you're not."

I laugh with him, the alcohol lightening my anxieties. "You're not, though."

"Oh, that's not true," he chuckles. "I've done some really stupid stuff."

"Like what?"

He leans back slightly, wiping his mouth with one of the provided napkins. "When I was a teenager, probably about sixteen, I really wanted this girl to like me. So, I thought the cool thing would be to light fireworks off in front of her house. I swore she would think it was the most romantic gesture she's ever seen. Well, turns out that the tree she had in her front yard was incredibly flammable."

I gasp with my hand to my mouth. "Oh, my god!"

Joel nods with a vast grin. "Yup. Tree burned to the ground and she never spoke to me again. Damn thing nearly fell onto her house! I was lucky her parents didn't try to get me in trouble for that. They were furious, but they knew it wasn't my intention."

I laugh loudly, my head cocked back. "I can't believe that. That's hilarious!"

"She did not think so."

"I've never had anyone do something so crazy for me before." My laughter fades, flashing back to Justin and his friend cornering me in that unfamiliar room.

Quickly, I down more wine, my leg beginning to bounce again as I attempt to push away the negative memories that are replaying in my head. No, no, no. This can't happen now.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Joel asks, cutting me back to reality.

My body is trembling, and I'm doing my best to remain calm, but the terror in my mind won't stop. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Y/n, you're shaking." Joel goes to reach out but I quickly retreat. "Was it something I said?"

"No!" my voice answers quickly. "No, Joel, you're fine."

He lets out a sharp sigh. "You're having a panic attack, I can tell. I had them all the time after my wife died. Talk to me, y/n. What's happening?"

"I can't tell you, Joel. It's—too much."

He backs away a bit as he nods. "Okay, how about I tell you another story about how I'm stupid?"

My eyes squeeze shut, nodding my head. "Tell me."

"When Sarah was born, I hadn't gotten much sleep that night before my wife went into labor because I was so nervous about being a dad. I hadn't been eating or sleeping well for a few days, actually. Anyway, she finally goes into labor and I'm wide awake, running through the house to collect all of her things and get her to the hospital. Well, when we get there, and she's finally having the baby, I faint."

I laugh, my heart rate beginning to settle. "You fainted?!"

"It wasn't the blood, the screams, or any of that. It's because I freaked myself out so bad that I couldn't sleep or eat! So, I basically missed my daughter's birth because I'm an idiot."

My lips quiver up. "You were scared to be a dad?"

"Oh, definitely," he nods, beginning to smile, "but once I held Sarah, I knew being a dad is what I'm meant to do with my life. I loved her from the second I saw her, and I still get that feeling every time I look at her. That girl has my whole heart with her."

My brows slant, emotion welling up in my chest that I force down. "Joel, you're an amazing dad. I can already tell that."

"Thanks," he laughs shyly. "I do my best. It's hard being two parents."

"My dad has been two parents from the time I was Sarah's age. He's everything to me, and I know you're everything to her, too. My dad got two jobs just to get me through law school, something he wanted but never had the money for."

"He sounds like an amazing man."

I nod with a small smile. "He is."

Joel's eyes flick to my legs, then back up to my gaze. "Your legs stopped bouncing. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," I breathe out slowly. "Thank you, Joel."

He nods. "You're welcome." His eyes flick between mine. "Do you get those often?"

"Not super often, no. Just lately I've been having some triggers, I guess."

Joel frowns with furrowed brows. "What I always tried to do was just take deep breaths and distract my brain by watching something light. Have you tried that?"

I nod with a smirk. "Therapist recommended."

He chuckles. "Mine too."

"You helped a lot, honestly. My dad is the only one who was ever able to help talk me down from an episode."

Joel looks to me with those soft eyes, my living room light shining off the velvety brown of them. "That's a very nice compliment. I had to go through them completely alone. I only had my one year old daughter when they were at their worst. If you ever want to reach out when you're panicking, you can. You shouldn't have to go through them alone."

My gaze softens, those tears trying to make their way to the surface again but I shoo them away. "That means a lot, Joel. Thank you."

"You're welcome, y/n."

After the movie ends, and I'm tipsy from the wine, I lean onto Joel's shoulder, my eyes beginning to flutter closed. I feel calm in this moment beside him, and I'm not sure if it's the alcohol or just Joel.

"Y/n?" he whispers.

"Hmm?"

"It's getting late and I have to get back to Sarah. Will you be okay if I leave?"

I nod, lifting my head to look up at him. "Of course."

His eyes search mine, concern etched into them. "Promise me you'll call or text if you're panicking again. I don't want you going through them alone."

"You're sweet to care, Joel," I beam at him. "Thank you."

He grins as his slightly glares at me. "You didn't promise."

"That's because I can't. I don't open up or express my feelings to anybody, not even my dad."

Joel goes to touch my face, but stops himself. "I was that way too. I promise it's better to not face whatever you're going through alone."

With a steady hand, I grab his and place it on my cheek. "I'm sorry for freaking out earlier. I'm embarrassed."

He tucks some hair behind my ear, cupping the side of my face. "No, don't be. I'm glad I was here to help."

I lean into his touch, my eyes closing a bit to savor the feeling of his skin on mine. When I open them, I see Joel gazing at me, giving me a look that I know is want. Normally it would completely freak me out, but the tipsy affect of the wine mixed with Joel's gentle aura have me feeling incredibly—safe.

"You can," I say softly, my eyes on his lips.

Joel cocks his head. "I can, what?"

"Kiss me. I can see that you want to."

He chuckles slightly, rubbing his thumb against my cheek. "Do you want me to?"

I nod. "Yes."

Joel slowly leans in, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest as he gently takes my lips against his. His mouth is gentle and eager, my own mouth parting to allow him to slip his tongue into it. He does exactly that, eliciting a quiet moan from my throat. He tastes of beer and Chinese food, mixed with his own unique flavor. It's intoxicating, making me feel more drunk on him than the wine.

My fingers go into his hair, gently tugging to control the kiss as our tongues swirl together. My body is alight with a passion I've never experienced, and there's an ache between my legs. Joel's right hand stays on my face, the other at the small of my back, pulling me in closer to him.

I part our lips and kiss his stubbly jaw, moving down to his neck and throat. He lets out a small groan of approval, the sound further arousing me.

"Y/n," he breathes out, stopping me in my tracks. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but we should stop."

My lips come to a halt from his bobbing Adam's apple, moving my face into view of his. "You want to stop?"

He strokes my face, his gaze having a bit of heat to it. "I've thought you were beautiful since the moment I walked into your office, and I've wanted to kiss you all night. That being said, you drank a bit, and I don't want you doing something you'll regret."

I stare at him with a dumbfounded expression, the rate of my heart only increasing from the realization that Joel might actually be a good guy.

"I—" my voice trails off, "I can't believe you said that."

Joel cocks his head as he chuckles. "Why? Who the hell would take advantage of a drunk woman?"

"A lot of people."

"A lot of fucking creeps," he mutters. "It makes me a bit sad that you're impressed by the bare minimum from a man. Have you ever had a decent boyfriend?"

With tears filling my eyes, I shake my head. "No."

Joel's eyes soften as he pulls me in to a tight hug, my body weakening in his hold. He embraces me for a moment, the tears finally spilling over my lids and onto my cheeks. Is this the way men are supposed to treat women? Am I supposed to feel this safe and cherished? I barely know him, yet I feel like he'd go to war to protect me.

"Joel," I say through my sniffling.

He pulls away, swiping my tears away with his thumbs. "Yes, y/n?"

My shoulders sag as I let out a large sigh. "Would you like to go on a date with me some time?"

Joel beams, nodding his head. "Definitely. This Saturday?"

I giggle, "I'd love to."

When Joel leaves, he gives me a soft, lingering kiss at the front door, smiling as I watch him walk away with his tool kit in his hand. My body stays leaning against the doorframe until he drives away, letting out a sigh of pure contentment.

I haven't felt this giddy since Justin and I first started dating, but the fuzzy feelings towards him were short-lived. We didn't date for very long before we slept together for the first time, and after that it was like something switched in him. I was upset that I gave him my virginity, but I trusted him when I did. It was probably about two weeks later when him and his friend took me to his house and had their way with me.

My eyes close as the vivid images of them come back, doing my best to shoo them from my mind. I'd like to be honest with Joel and tell him just how scared I am of being intimate with him, but I don't want to freak him out.

Maybe I will after our date this Saturday. I was more than ready and willing to jump his bones tonight, a feeling I never thought I'd get again. But Joel seems to be changing me, and though I'm terrified, I'm somehow also hopeful that it'll be okay with him.

****

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #smut #yn fanfic #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou smut

33 notes · View notes

arielhopepeace · 1 year

Text

This is the final part! I hope you enjoyed this short little smutty, kinda depressing Joel story! Lol ❤️ please dm me with suggestions for more if you’d like to read something specific. I’d love to hear from you!

Part Five

18+ only

Tw: SMUT almost the whole chapter, praising, slightly rough spanking, m receiving, angst, age gap

5,400 words

Joel

My body is being caressed, gentle fingers running through the hair on my chest as my eyes flutter open and air deeply fills my lungs. I turn my head to see y/n smiling at me, still topless from last night and wearing nothing but her underwear.

I instantly shift my body on top of hers, emitting a playful giggle from her as I lean down to place a gentle kiss against her lips. "My god, what a sight to wake up to," I say somewhat gruffly.

"Well, good morning to you too, handsome," she chuckles, her hands on my back. "Did you sleep well?"

"Very," I beam, gazing down at her. "And you?"

"Very comfortable, but not very long. It's hard to sleep in someone else's bed, you know?"

"I understand. If you wanted another sleepover tonight, maybe it could be at your place."

Her eyes widen with excitement. "Really? You wanna see me again?"

"I don't ever want to stop seeing you, honey," I chuckle as the tip of my nose grazes hers.

"I'll never get over how perfect you are," y/n beams, her cheeks darkening. "You're a dream."

"No," I say before giving her a quick kiss, "I was made in a lab, remember?"

Y/n giggles as I slide off the bed, going into my closet to fetch a shirt for her. She takes it from my outstretched hands, thanking me as she slides it over her torso.

"Tired of seeing me naked already?" she teases.

I scoff, vigorously shaking my head. "Absolutely not. Just thought you might be more comfortable."

"I am," she giggles. "Thank you."

My eyes flick to my watch, seeing that it's nearly eleven in the morning. "Holy shit, I slept in."

"You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you."

Striding over to y/n who is sat at the edge of my bed, I give her a sweet, lingering kiss. "Baby, you must be starving. Let's have lunch together."

Y/n smiles bashfully. "Where? Here?"

"Anywhere you want."

She shrugs indecisively. "I don't care, Joel. We can eat here."

"I'm not much of a cook, but I'll see what I can do with what I've got."

My hand stretches out for hers, smiling as she happily takes it and leaps off the bed. We walk into my kitchen, my free hand pulling the fridge open to see what's inside. There's a few chicken breasts that need to be cooked, and I nod to myself as I pull them out, reaching in for the marinade as well.

"Want me to grill some chicken?" I ask her.

"That sounds amazing," she kisses my cheek. "I think you'd look sexy manning the grill."

"Yeah?" I raise a brow as I smirk. "Too bad I don't have an apron or something."

Y/n's finger travels down my chest and stomach. "I think shirtless works."

"Shirtless it is, then."

We walk outside through the sliding glass door, silently thanking god that I have a privacy fence so that my neighbors can't see me grilling shirtless at eleven in the morning. What would they say if they saw me with y/n? Would they think I was a creep? Would they know she's Sarah's teacher?

A worried thought pops into my head as y/n sits on the patio furniture, my fingers turning the knob on the grill, igniting the propane-fueled fire. "Hey, y/n, would you ever get in trouble at your job if they found out we were seeing each other?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I'd like to say no, but I'm not sure. Why?"

I shrug, shaking my head. "Just a worry I had."

"Well, I mean, I don't really have anybody to tell anyway, so it's not like it'll get around."

"What if we eventually tell Sarah or she finds out? She'll probably be so excited that she'll want to tell her whole class."

Y/n makes a wincing face. "Ooo, yeah. I wouldn't want anybody to think I was playing favorites with her, or being more hard on her just because I'm dating her dad."

"Exactly," I nod, drizzling marinade on the raw, spiced chicken. "I don't know. It's just kind of concerning, I guess."

"You and I worry a lot," she giggles. "Something I noticed on our first time talking together."

"I've been honest and vulnerable from the start," I chuckle sheepishly. "You just bring it out of me."

"I love that you're like that with me. I'm the same way."

"Good," I beam at her, admiring her bare-faced beauty. "What do you want to do today? Anything exciting?"

"Well, I had asked last night if today could be about you, but you kinda shrugged me off," she glares playfully as she crosses her arms. "So, can we do something that you want?"

"I'm more of a giver than a receiver," my mouth twitches up, being reminded of her writhing beneath me last night.

Y/n flutters her lashes as her cheeks deepen to scarlet. "I can tell."

"But if you really want to, maybe we could go bowling or play darts. Those things are fun." I look to the grill briefly as I add the breasts. "Basically, I just want another date with you."

She stands, striding over to me as she throws her arms around my neck. "I'd love another date with you."

"Bowling tonight?"

Y/n nods. "Yes, please." She kisses me, and then my neck, her hand traveling down to my briefs where my cock is already semi-hard from the reminder of her pretty moans. "And right now?"

I swallow thickly. "Right now?"

My gaze follows her as she drifts down easily to her knees, my eyes blowing wide in surprise as she stares up at me innocently.

"Can I thank you for last night?" she asks quietly as she hooks her fingers into the sides of my briefs.

"Oh, baby, you don't have to thank me—" my sentence stops as she kisses me softly through the fabric.

"I want to. Please, Joel."

I push my hand through her hair, nodding subtly as she gives me a vast grin, shimmying down my boxers until they're around my ankles. My cock springs free, gently smacking her chin as she gazes at it with admiration.

"God, you're fucking huge." Y/n licks her lips, her mouth coming forward to swipe her tongue up the slit of my tip. "How will you ever fit inside of me?" her sultry voice rings in my ears.

A quiet groan escapes my throat, gazing down at her as she wraps her hot, silky mouth around me. My own mouth hangs open, gripping at her hair until it's bunched up at the back of her head in a messy bundle.

"Fuck," I groan, my head hanging back as she sucks me slowly and firmly. "You suck me so fucking good."

She chuckles lightly, her hand finding its way into the mix as her mouth moves further down, stroking me in time with the bob of her head. My eyes force themselves back to watch her, the sight of her so needy for my cock nearly making me cum in her perfect mouth. I want to tease her, deciding to pull her mouth off of me by gently jerking her back by her hair.

"No, no," she whines, "please, let me keep going."

I groan, easing her back onto me and being encased in her sweet mouth. "Love how cock drunk you are for me, petal." My stomach flexes as my release is nearing its debut. "I'm already so close."

Her hand begins to stroke the base of me faster, as her mouth keeps its moderate, firm pace. The sounds of her sucking me makes my toes curl, the filthy slurping and squelching of her mouth driving me absolutely wild.

"God, y/n. Jesus—fuck," I curse, no longer able to make an intelligible sentence.

Her eyes are shut as her brows are furrowed, burying me into her throat as she bobs her head quickly, coughing and choking on me with her hands now clawing at my stomach.

I place both of my hands on the back of her head, my hips thrusting slightly as I chase my high, feeling myself reach the very brink.

"You gonna take all my cum, petal? You want it down that pretty little throat?"

She nods fervently, groaning around me as she does.

My legs shake as I begin to spill my release into her mouth, groaning out loudly as my hands tightly fist at her hair. Y/n moans with delight, my cum pouring out in hot ropes against her tongue, the feeling far better than one I've ever given myself.

"Fuck," I sigh, looking down as she slowly pops off of me, opening her mouth to show that it's filled with my release. "Oh, my god."

Her eyes are locked onto mine as she swallows, swiping her tongue all around her lips and bringing the back of her hand up to wipe her sloppy chin.

"You taste so good, Joel," she beams, sliding my briefs up as she stands. "And you gave me so much."

I groan, pulling on her hair to tilt her head up towards me. "You have no idea how bad I'm going to fucking wreck you, y/n. You're making me crazy."

She chuckles, biting her lip gently. "I can't wait to find out."

As we sit at the dining room table eating our lunch, my eyes are nearly incapable of focusing on anything other than y/n's beautiful lips. I can't stop remembering how good they felt around me, and how quickly she was able to make me finish.

Even at almost forty-one years old, I'm finding my sex drive to not be even a little bit close to drying up. How could I ever not be turned on with a woman like her around me? Not only am I completely enamored with who she is as a person, but her beauty is beyond what I'd imagine a woman going for me to look like. I must have done something right in a past life in order to have someone like her wanting me now.

"What?" she asks sheepishly as she gingerly chews.

I reach my hand out and place it over hers, bringing it up to my lips to kiss her knuckles. "You are just so beautiful, baby."

Her cheeks flush a shade darker, her eyes nervously looking down to her lap. "You're so sweet, Joel. I don't think I've ever received so many compliments from someone."

"You've been with the wrong people."

Y/n giggles, leaning across the corner of the table to kiss me lightly. "I know. You've already shown me that."

My eyes gaze into hers, mesmerized by the shade of them, as well as their delicate, feminine shape. "You want to go out after this?"

She nods. "I'd love to. Bowling still? Maybe after, we could get some snacks for a movie at my house tonight, if you'd like."

"I'd love that," I beam at her. "I'll take you home to get some clothes, and I'll pack my toothbrush."

Y/n laughs, placing her hand on my forearm. "God, you're so cute."

On the way to y/n's, she's sat beside me in my truck wearing my shirt and my boxers with her dress laying across her lap. She looks incredible in my clothes; it's hard to take my eyes off of her.

I get out and open her door, holding her hand as she steps down, giving me a swift, unexpected kiss once she does. It makes me smile, feeling so perfectly content, way more than I have in a very long time.

We walk inside, the cool air of her home greeting me, gaining me relief from the stifling humidity outside. Y/n guides me to her bedroom, the sight of it much more tidy and put-together than mine. Everything seems so pristine, and the air smells of fresh laundry.

She walks across the room, hanging her dress back up in her little walk-in closet before grabbing her phone off of her bed, quickly apologizing for it.

"Sorry, I'm sure nobody texted me or anything, I just haven't checked my phone since Friday morning, pretty much," she laughs lightly, gliding up to me. "Just been having so much fun with you."

I kiss her sweetly, running my nose along hers like I love to do. "Mmm, me too," I hum with contentment.

Y/n chuckles before pulling away, gazing back down at her phone as I sit at the edge of the bed, my eyes wandering around the room.

"Joel," she says lowly.

My gaze snaps to her face, the expression on it unreadable, immediately making me feel concerned. "What? What's wrong?"

"The gynecologist emailed me my results Friday evening," she begins quietly, "and this entire time I've been with you, we could've been having sex."

I laugh, relief flooding me as well as a hint of excitement. "I'm glad there's nothing wrong, y/n."

She makes her way to me from the door, straddling my lap as I support her weight on my thighs. "Wanna bowl in a little bit instead?"

Without even answering, my lips melt onto hers, the kiss immediately heating up. Our tongues clash and our breathing becomes more desperate. My hands lift off the shirt on her torso, tossing it aside before she pushes me gently onto my back. I grip at her ass, kneading it before slipping the boxers and panties off of her.

"I need you so fucking bad, Joel," she breathes heavily between kisses. "Please."

I grin devilishly at her, rolling us until she's on her back, already practically panting beneath me. My torso leans back to lift my shirt off, quickly unbuckling my belt to unfasten my jeans and kick them off with my shoes.

Her legs are already wrapped around me, pulling my hips into her by her ankles, the neediness she feels for me being deliciously evident.

"Let me taste you," I groan against her lips, dropping my hand between us to rub that pretty little clit of hers.

"Fuck," she moans, her eyes squeezing shut. "Please, baby, just fuck me. I need to feel you."

"God, you're so desperate," I beam, her hips grinding against my fingers.

My cock aches, begging me to bury myself into her, and to never ever stop. I move my fingers from her to around myself, running the tip along her slit, being sure to rub at the very top.

"Yes," she nods, her eyes looking down between us. "Fuck, Joel, you're so big," her voice is hushed, sounding almost nervous.

I take her face into my left hand, gently gripping her jaw to force her to look up at me. "Eyes on me, baby. Want to watch your face when I fuck you."

Her brows furrow with desperation, my hand finally lining myself up with her entrance. None of me can believe this is happening so spur of the moment, but all of me absolutely needs her.

Slowly, I ease myself in, her eyes widening and her puffy lips dropping open as her silky walls squeeze my length. The sensation of her makes my body shake with pleasure, my eyes briefly closing as I let out a deep groan of satisfaction.

Y/n's arousal soaks me, making it easy for me to pull myself out before pushing back in.

"Jesus," I groan, keeping my left hand gripped onto her face. "Grip me so goddamn tight, petal."

She moans loudly, a gasp hitching in her throat as I give her one quick thrust. "Joel, please."

My body is in pleasure overload, my mind spinning faster than it ever has, every single nerve firing wildly. I release her face, leaning down to place my lips against hers as I start to rock my hips faster. Every pull of her walls makes my eyes squeeze shut, eliciting an animalistic grunt from me.

"Fuck, y/n, I'm trying so hard to be gentle," I groan, "but you feel too fucking good."

How deliciously wet she is is audible, only spurring me on further into my rough drive forward. The headboard of her bed knocks against the wall loudly, y/n's breasts bouncing wildly as I bury myself to the hilt nonstop.

"Joel!" she cries out, her back arching upwards.

I groan, pounding into her harder, sweat beginning to form on my brow as I admire her beautifully twisted-up face. My lips press against hers swiftly before I lean back, one hand on her hip and the other pressed to her swollen bud.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she curses, her hands clawing at the comforter beneath her.

Her eyes lock onto mine, her fucked out expression nearly bringing me to my peak just from the sight of it. Her entrance clenches around me as a moan leaves her perfect lips, my hips having a mind of their own as I fuck into her almost aggressively.

"You take me so good," I groan, leaning my head back. "Jesus fucking christ, baby."

Her cunt swallows me whole every single time I thrust forward, my head turning back down to watch her beautiful face scrunch with pleasure. A broken, throaty scream leaves her, feeling her walls flutter around my cock, squeezing me so tightly that I can't help but cry out myself.

"Ooo, that's right, petal; cum on me. You've fucking earned it."

Y/N's body writhes and shakes, withdrawing my fingers once I know she's down from her climax. My hands grip either side of her hips now, giving her every single inch of me as hard and deep as I can. Her arousal runs down to my balls, making my mind go wild with things to say to her.

"Cum in me, Joel, please!" she cries. "Please, baby. I'm yours."

I'm yours.

Those two words send me instantly barreling off the cliff of ecstasy, my release pumping out of me as my cock throbs deep inside of her. My groans are loud and my fingers dig into her skin, trying to ground myself from the intense feeling that she has given me.

I shudder, my eyes finally opening to peer down at the incredibly sexy, alluring woman beneath me who has a vast grin on her face.

With a small chuckle, I lean down, giving her a neat, tongue-filled kiss. "What are you so smiley about?"

Y/n giggles slightly, her fingers stroking the side of my stubbly chin. "You feel so good." She bites her lip. "You fuck so good."

Reluctantly, I withdraw from her, laying beside her with my body being a sweaty, panting mess. My head turns to face her, my hand reaching up to run my thumb along her bottom lip.

"Did I hurt you, baby?"

Y/n immediately shakes her head. "Not at all. You felt amazing."

"God, you take me so fucking good," I smile, turning onto my side to pull her in for a soft kiss. "You're amazing, y/n."

She chuckles, her arm around my midsection as she presses her cheek against my dampened chest. "Can we do this all night instead of bowling?"

"Ooo," I coo with intrigue, "I am very okay with that."

"Mmm," she hums. "Me, too."

In the shower with y/n, my hands are incapable of leaving her skin, my lips on her smooth neck as she cranes it to grant me full access. Her wet hair hangs down, my fingers pushing it to the side in order to caress her slippery back.

Y/n hums at my touch, my head beside hers from behind as I watch the water cascade down her front.

"I can't get enough of you," I say quietly, nipping at her earlobe gently. "I thought I was depraved before," I scoff. "It's worse now."

She giggles, her eyes fluttering closed. "Mmm, me too." Her head turns to lock eyes with me, our lips meeting together with effortless timing. "You've made me so sore."

"Aw," I coo, wrapping my arms around her waist to pull her against my body. "We can wait for another day if you're too sore, petal. I don't want to hurt you."

"It's the best kind of hurt, Joel," she grins, pulling me in by my chin for another sweet kiss. "I want more."

I chuckle. "You're gonna end up make me sore, honey." My erection involuntarily presses into her back, doing my best to turn my hips away.

"You know," she turns, wrapping her arms around my neck, "for an old guy, you sure do have the sex drive of a young person."

My mouth hangs open as she begins giggling, her laughter so infectious that I can't prevent myself from giggling with her.

"You are such a brat!" I tease, sliding my hands down her back to grip her ass. "I might be offended if I didn't see how easily you came for this old guy."

Her face brightens, her previously confident demeanor melting away into the submissive goddess that she is. "Joel," she says bashfully with a slight giggle, "when I told you that I'm yours, I meant it."

The intense arousal mixes with that butterfly feeling she always gives me, my eyes softening as I try to tame my dirty thoughts.

"Yeah?" I ask with an arched brow. "And I'm yours."

Her eyes seem to go bleary, her face suddenly burying into my chest.

"Y/n, honey, what's wrong?" I lift her face, seeing more than just water droplets on her cheeks. "Why are you crying, sweet girl?"

"Because," she sniffles, shaking her head, "I'm terrified."

"Of what?"

Her eyes meet mine, the sadness in them shattering my heart. "Of loving again."

My heart aches, wrapping her up into a tight embrace. "I promise you, y/n, that whenever you decide I'm lucky enough for you to tell me you love me, I'll never take that for granted."

“I was with Sam for four years and engaged for one. Everything was perfect until he proposed, and then he fucking cheated on me and I just—” y/n’s head shakes against my chest, “you’ve already made me feel so great, and I’m so scared of how horrible it’s going to feel when it ends.”

“Ends?” I cock my head, pulling her face into view. “Who said it’s going to end, y/n?”

“Fuck,” she shakes her head in embarrassment, “I’ve known you for a week and I’m already freaking out about stuff I don’t even need to freak out about.”

I chuckle. “You can always tell me your fears, baby. We’ve both been pretty emotionally vulnerable from the start.”

“I know, I know,” her bottom lip gets dragged by her teeth. “But would you ever settle down again? Get married? Have more kids?”

“Honestly, yes, I would. How old was your dad when he had you?”

She chuckles, her eyes on mine. “Fifty-two.”

“Exactly,” I beam. “That’s another roughly eleven years for this old man,” I tease her, resulting in a giggle. “And if I’m lucky enough to still have you in eleven years, there’s no way we wouldn’t have kids of our own.”

Her brows pinch together with emotion, more tears sliding down her damp cheeks as she pulls me in for a sweet, deep kiss. “You’re perfect, Joel. I can’t stand how perfect you are. It’s too good to be true.”

“No,” I say gently, kissing her forehead, “it’s exactly what you deserve, baby.”

After we come back from the store with various snacks; fruity, salty, savory, sweet, it’s only around four in the afternoon. Y/n and I carry in the groceries, her stubbornness not allowing me to take in all of them myself. We place everything down on the counter in her kitchen, unloading the bags to put everything away.

I store the wine and beer in the fridge, chuckling as y/n walks past me and gives me a small smack to my butt.

“Hey!” I drag out with a laugh. “You really just spanked me?”

She laughs loudly, reaching up to put chips away in her pantry. “You’re damn right I did.”

“Seems only fair that I do it to you, too.” My hand raises, charging towards her as she squeals and runs away.

Both of us are laughing as we run through her house, my arms finally wrapping around her to pull her body into me. Y/n is giggling hysterically, kicking her legs as she shakes her head back and forth.

“No!” she feigns resistance. “I don’t want to be spanked by an incredibly sexy man! What a nightmare!” her voice drips with sarcasm.

I bend her over the couch, my cheeks aching from how much I’m grinning. “I think you were made for a good spanking with an ass like this, baby.”

Y/n looks back at me as she bites her lip, her cheeks reddened. “Spank me then.”

My hands rub against the fabric of her jean shorts, slowly pulling them down on the sides to reveal the white cotton underwear she has on beneath them. I can’t help but immediately harden at the sight before me, admiring every curve of her perfect body.

I trace the line of her panties, dipping my fingers into the back to ease them down her legs. Y/n’s thighs press together, letting me know that she’s already perfectly wet for me between them.

My palm rubs the smooth skin of her right cheek, caressing it with admiration before raising it to give her a gentle smack.

She laughs, burying her grin into her arm.

“Are you actually laughing?” I ask her with a small smirk on my face.

“Just was expecting a spanking, not a tap.”

With a devilish grin, I raise my brows, nodding my head. “Okay, petal. You asked for it.”

I raise my hand up, stretching it back to my shoulder before connecting my palm to her ass. Y/n’s mouth hangs open, her eyes squeezed shut as she lets out a small cry.

A red Joel-sized handprint begins to appear on her ass, and I immediately feel guilty, gently rubbing the swelling skin.

“Again,” she says quietly.

“Y/n—”

Her head turns back, her eyes soft but teeming with lust. “Please. Felt so good, baby.”

My cock twitches at her plea, making me crack a small smile. I move a bit to the left to rub her other ass cheek with my right hand, almost as if I’m warning it of what I’m about to do. As my palm makes harsh contact with her skin, it begins to tingle from the force, checking y/n’s face to see it riddled with arousal.

“You really are the depraved one, aren’t you?” I ask, giving her another rough smack to the other cheek to give the left one a break.

“Yes,” she groans quietly. “God, I need you again, Joel. Please.”

It takes me less than five seconds to free myself from my jeans and briefs, immediately lining myself up with her entrance to push my cock deep inside of it.

“Fuck,” I groan out, my head briefly leaning back from the still unfamiliar grip of her walls.

My hand reaches down and threads into her hair, making a fist at the base of her scalp to pull her head up. Y/n cries out as I slam into her with no abandon, being so wholly lost in the feel of her perfect cunt that I can barely control myself.

“How do you take me so good, huh?” I ask gruffly. “Where’d you learn to take cock this fucking good?”

She screams into the air, my grip tightening on her hair. “Fuck,” she curses with a loud whine.

Our skin meeting repeatedly echoes throughout her living room, my hand tossing her hair aside to reach beneath her and rub her clit. She gasps as her walls clench tightly against me, making me groan gruffly.

“Joel,” she moans, her ass bouncing against my hips in time with every thrust. “You fuck like a god.”

I chuckle lowly, leaning down to place kisses on her spine where her shirt has ridden up as my hips stagger a bit.

“And you take it like a goddess, petal.”

Y/n’s brows furrow with pleasure, feeling her clench down on me as my fingers continue their quick, neat swirls. I bury myself to the hilt, holding my hips steady for a moment to better feel her spasming cunt.

As she releases onto me, I rub her through it, groaning as her orgasm soaks me. My cock drags out just a bit so I can look down and see the sheen coat of y/n’s cum making me an utter mess.

“Love how easily you cum for me, sweet girl,” I rasp, placing my hands on her hips as I quickly pull out. “Need to see that pretty face again, baby.”

Y/n’s legs visibly shake as she sits on one of the couch cushions, my body positing myself back between her legs with one of my knees on the floor. I’m deeply pushed into her, feeling her soaking apex clinging to me once again.

“Yes,” I hiss, pressing my forehead to hers, “that’s my girl.”

She groans with her eyes shut, her head tilted back as her arms are wrapped around my neck. I fuck up into her, thoroughly enjoying the sound of her wetness encasing me over and over again.

My lips lean up to attach to hers, my breathing already ragged from the intensity of my strokes. I need to cum, and it needs to be inside of her.

“You want me to fill you again, petal? Hmm?” I ask with broken words.

“Please,” she begs, “I’m yours to use, baby.”

“Jesus fucking christ,” I grunt.

My balls slap against her ass as I pound into her, eliciting a scream from y/n, and an inhuman cry from me as I spill my cum inside of her. Every single rope that falls out feels better than the last, my cock throbbing from every bit that leaks out of me.

I shudder from the intensity, my body attempting to come down from the extreme high it just felt.

“Baby,” I breathe, placing my hands on either side of her head, “you’re fucking crazy and I love it.”

Y/n giggles, letting out a slight moan as I slip out of her. “I’m just crazy for you. God, I feel like you’ve turned me into a nympho.”

I kiss her, briefly running my tongue along hers. “You’ve done the same to me, baby.” I stand, watching as she leans forward to lick both of our releases off of my softening length. “Fuck,” I drag out, mesmerized by the insatiable woman beneath me.

“We taste good together,” she beams as she licks her lips, finally standing with me. “Let me grab a towel.”

Y/n disappears into the house, returning with a white towel that she goes to hand me, but quickly jerks away, a playful grin on her face.

“God, what are you up to now?” I ask with a chuckle.

“Skinny dipping?”

I chuckle and nod, taking her hand as she guides me to the pool, both of us jumping into the deep end. The water makes a loud plunging sound around me, the bubbles cascading upwards as I finally come up for air. My arms immediately find y/n, wrapping her up tightly and giving her a sweet, lingering kiss.

“I really like you, Joel,” she says quietly, pressing her forehead against mine as she wraps her legs around my waist. “Did I freak you out with the marriage and kids talk?”

“Not at all, baby. You just wanted to know if you’re wasting your time, and I get it.” My eyes stay locked on hers, her long lashes wet from the pool. “But I promise that if we continue to click as easily as we have just in the last week, that a lifetime of marriage and kids with you would be a dream.”

Y/n grins vastly, twisting her delicate fingers into my soaking hair. “You’re incredible.” She kisses me softly. “Can I see you again next weekend?”

“And the weekend after that,” I kiss her, “and the weekend after that,” I kiss her again, “and the weekend after that…”

****

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #smut #yn fanfic #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou smut

77 notes · View notes

arielhopepeace · 1 year

Text

Part Four

18+ only

Tw: mention of cancer, mention of death, anxiety, panic attacks, insecurity, emotional abuse, gun use, slight exhibitionism, edging, teasing, dirty talk, phone sex, age gap, praising

9,200 words (holy hell I’m so sorry lol)

Y/n

You find yourself zoning out at the back of the classroom as your students gather their things together in preparation for dismissal. You've barely managed to teach today due to the memory of Joel's sultry voice in your ear, and his lips all over your wet skin. Last night was a fantasy come to life, and you've been craving his touch ever since.

How soon is too soon to see him again? Will you really let him know how desperate you are after already pleading for him last night? You feel embarrassed at the memory, your mind avoiding that to recall his hot breath against your neck as he swirled your button full of nerves with his skilled fingers.

"Ms. Y/l/n?" a small voice snaps you back to reality. "I found my essay."

You smile, shaking your head slightly as you grab the paper from the little girl in front of your desk. "Thank you," you beam at her. "If you haven't turned in your essay, please make sure to hand it in before you leave!" you announce to the rest of the class.

A few of the students drop off papers, your classroom clearing out as your mind begins to wander again. You pull your phone out from your desk, seeing that you have a message from Joel.

Joel

11:30am

I haven't stopped thinking about you today. Is that bad?

2:00pm

No, and it's been just as bad for me. It was difficult to teach.

You ready your things, collecting the essays and putting them into a folder for you to take home and read through tonight. Your appointment with the gynecologist is at 2:30, so you're feeling incredibly eager to leave.

As you lay on the table with your heels in the stirrups and a paper sheet over your lap, you stare at the white ceiling above you. You wonder what the woman who slept with Sam looked like, and you're curious if he's still seeing her. Of course it doesn't matter, but you can't help the slight insecurity you feel from being cheated on.

You never claimed to be perfect in your relationship, but Sam's lack of compassion towards your career was the biggest competitor in tearing you two apart. You're honestly grateful that he showed his true colors before you were married. And now you have your mind set on a man much gentler—a man that you feel is perfect for you.

There's a knock on the door and a woman in a white smock steps in, introducing herself and asking what the means for your visit are today.

"Well, my ex-fiancé cheated on me and then had unprotected sex with me. So, I'm just checking to be safe."

"Ugh," she scoffs, "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. I'll be better without him."

The doctor chuckles, slowly easing the cold, lubed metal into you. "Exactly. At least you know." She swabs your cervix, making you wince slightly before she withdraws the device. "Okay, everything looks perfectly normal. Have you had any oddly colored discharge?"

"No," you shake your head. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Okay, good. Well, from just a physical examination, I'd try to relax and not worry, but I will send this sample off to the lab."

You sit up, allowing your feet to hang off the raised bed. "And when will those results come back?"

"About a week," she smiles. "Could be less. I know you're probably eager to find out."

"Yes," you sigh, not knowing if you can wait another week to ravage Joel. "Thank you, Doctor."

"You're welcome. Our office will send you an email with your results, so be on the lookout for that."

"Thank you, I will."

You leave the office, feeling relieved that there's nothing seriously wrong, but yet disappointed that the results are going to take a while to get back. Will Joel still want to spend time with you even if you can't have sex? Of course he will, right? Why do you feel so worried that he won't?

At home, you sigh as you slip off your shoes, flopping down onto the couch with your head leaning against the back of it. All you really want to do is take a nice, long bath and maybe have a small nap while you're at it. But you can't right now. You have to read through all of the essays.

You grab your manilla folder and start at the top of the papers, smiling fondly at every single one individually. Some of the kids write about their family pet, their own lives, or their parents. One of them wrote about how they want to go to space one day and land on the moon.

When you come across Sarah's, you read the entire thing with a vast grin, enjoying how much she adores her dad. She talks about how he takes care of her, and how she wishes she had a mom, but she thinks her dad is enough to be two parents. The kind words of affection bring tears to your eyes, correcting a few of her mistakes and settling on a final grade for the paper.

Joel is the perfect man, and you're going crazy at the thought of him. Maybe it's because he met you at such a vulnerable point in your life, but you want to be with him. You're just hoping he wants the same thing. Would he really want to date you? He's already been married and had a daughter that he adores, not to mention the sixteen year age gap between the two of you. Obviously it doesn't bother him to some extent, but would he ever want to settle down again? And especially with someone as young as you?

Your doubts unleash a tsunami over your mind, finishing up the final essay before heading to your bedroom to change into your bathing suit. You'd prefer a casual float in the vast pool over a restricted bath right now. You want the freedom and space, also the exercise that comes with swimming.

Before you leave to go outside, you send Joel a picture of you in your bikini, biting your lip as you lock your phone. You're reminded of how hard he was in your palm, and how thick and long his length felt. Your eyes flutter closed as you imagine taking all of him inside you, that same sudden fear that you won't be good enough creeping into your mind.

Sam has made you more insecure than you've ever been in your life. Never have you questioned your ability to please a man, but now it's all you can think about. Will Joel enjoy the way you feel or the manner in which you grind your hips? You don't know. And it makes your chest feel heavy with apprehension.

When you step out of the pool, it's nearly six o'clock, and you see that you have an unread message notification from Joel on your phone screen.

Joel

4:45pm

You are one hell of a woman, y/n. Thank you for being the best distraction from work.

5:55pm

Oh, you're very welcome. Are you off now?

Your phone buzzes in your hand, seeing Joel's contact name popping up at the top as you press your thumb against the green 'answer' button.

"Hi," you say happily. "I take it you're home?"

Joel chuckles into your ear, making your thighs squeeze together. "Yes, I am. I just called to ask you how your day was. Figured it would be faster than texting."

You beam at the ground as you reply, "It was good. I went to my appointment and she said everything looks fine, but I won't get the official results for a week."

"Good, I'm glad everything is okay on the surface. At least that'll ease your mind a little."

"It did," you sigh. "Can't say I'm not disappointed about having to wait a week, though."

"Aw," Joel coos before lowering his voice, "I promise that I'm just as desperate, y/n. It took everything in me to not fuck you in the pool."

Your brows furrow together as an intense flush of arousal shoots to your groin. "Joel, please don't talk to me like that when there's nothing I can do about it."

"There's definitely something we can do, but only if you want to."

You giggle, stripping off your bathing suit as you walk to your bedroom. "What, phone sex?"

"More like I'll talk you through it. I can't really participate since I'm not alone."

"I want you to cum, too," you whine, hearing Joel chuckle lowly in your ear.

"I will, angel. Let's just focus on you right now." The line is silent for a moment. “I want you to lay on your bed for me,” he says gently, his voice still low.

“You sure you don’t want to just FaceTime me?” you giggle as you climb onto your mattress, not caring if you’re wetting it with your pool-soaked hair and skin.

“If I watch you cum, I don’t think there’d be anything stopping me from driving over there. Also, I don’t have the headphones right now, so this is better,” he laughs lightly. “You in your bed?”

“Yes,” you answer. “Naked, too.”

“Ooo,” he chuckles, “ahead of the game, I like it.”

You can’t help but giggle, letting out a slow, steady breath as you close your eyes, resting the phone against your ear.

“I want you to run your fingertip around your nipples. Don’t do anything to them, just graze them. Make them hard for me.”

You’re already a weeping mess between your legs, wanting to relieve the growing pressure, but you decide to listen to Joel instead. All you want is for him to have control over you, and you desperately want to please him.

You trace your already hardened nipples, feeling goosebumps raise against your skin as the tip of your nail gently scratches you. A small sigh leaves your throat, your finger moving to your other pearled center.

“Feel how nice your skin is, y/n? So fucking soft, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you breathe, “wish you were here touching it.”

“Soon, pretty girl. I promise.” His voice is light and soothing. “Spread your legs open, baby. Let that finger go down your stomach, but don’t touch that sweet little slit of yours.”

As your hand moves down your abdomen, your senses are heightened, the feeling of your warm palm against your stomach making your walls clench around nothing.

“God, Joel,” you sigh with pleasure, “how are you doing this? I feel like I could cum just from touching my skin.”

He laughs gently, the sound exhilarating you. “I know how to please a woman, y/n.” You can’t help but bite your lip at his confidence. “Keep caressing your body. I want you to feel how beautiful it is.”

Your palm moves up your side, cupping your right breast as you gently pinch the center that is standing to attention.

“God,” you groan slightly, your head digging into the pillow.

“You’re doing so good, y/n. You listen so well. Now, do you own any toys?”

“Yes,” your bottom lip tucks between your teeth. “Do you want me to get one?”

“No,” he replies. “Now I know if you ever wanted me to use one on you.”

“Joel, I’d let you do anything to me.”

He hums with contentment. “You’re so goddamn hot. I want you to feel how wet you are.”

Your fingers slowly ease down to where you’re spread, instantly feeling the silky arousal coating your skin, making your mouth hang open in shock.

“I’m—” your voice drifts off as you swirl around your swollen clit, letting out a small moan.

“You’re what, y/n? Tell me.”

“I’ve never been this wet in my life,” you whisper, your eyes squeezing together as you continue to rub yourself. “Fuck.”

“Good,” he groans quietly. “Want you to keep circling your clit just the way you are. Doesn’t it feel so good, sweet girl?”

“Yes!”

“Mmm, are you already close?”

“Fuck, yes. I’m so close.”

Joel sighs heavily into the phone. “I wanna hear how pretty you sound when you cum, angel.”

Your entrance flexes as your fingers pick up their pace, rubbing yourself so quickly that your wrist begins to cramp. That euphoric feeling begins to wash over you, your back arching off of your bed as you orgasm intensely, crying Joel’s name out into the phone.

“Such a good girl,” he praises. “Fuck, y/n.”

Thighs shaking and chest heaving, you pull your hand up from between your legs, only now being able to open your eyes.

“If you made me feel that good without even being here, I can’t imagine what being with you will be like.”

Joel chuckles. “I’ll take good care of you, y/n.”

You can’t help but to groan lowly. “I know you will.”

He lets out a large sigh, making you laugh slightly. “I’m so painfully hard that I can’t think straight.”

You giggle again. “You could always come over and I could alleviate your pain.”

“No,” he laughs. “I can’t. I feel bad leaving Sarah with the neighbor all the time.”

“Aw, I understand.” A smile splits your face.

“This weekend she’s sleeping at a friend’s house. We could have our own sleepover, if you’d like.”

“I’d love that.” Your cheeks ache from your incessant grinning.

“I was thinking maybe a date on Friday night?”

“A date?” you ask, trying to hide your excitement.

“Yeah, is that okay?”

“More than okay. I wasn’t sure if you were even interested in dating me.”

Joel guffaws. “Are you crazy? Of course I am. You’re incredible, y/n. Even before you lured me in with steak and cupcakes, I liked you.”

You chuckle, feeling your face burning. “Yeah, I liked you too.”

“So you really did like me when you first met me, and that wasn’t just your horny talk?”

“Yes!” you cackle. “I was engaged to Sam, but I liked you more than him at the time. Now it’s like I hate him, and I’m crazy about you.”

“Crazy about me, huh?” he teases. “I can handle crazy.”

“Well, good. My life is very crazy right now.”

“Ex-fiancés and broken air conditioners aren’t going to push me away,” Joel chuckles. “Maybe only blood-sacrifice-crazy would. But even then, I don’t know. I like you too much already to be bothered by that.”

You clutch your stomach as both of you break out into a fit of laughter. “I’ll try to keep those to a minimum.”

He sniffles, his laughter fading a bit. “I unfortunately have to go. I have to make dinner, but this was—fun.”

“Mmm, I agree; very, very fun.”

“Have a good rest of your night, y/n.”

“You too, Joel.”

The call ends and you still have an idiotic smile plastered onto your flushed scarlet face. Your senses are still heightened, the swollen clit between your legs throbbing and begging for more relief. Everything in you wants to run to Joel’s house and ride him like a mad woman, but you can’t for many, many reasons.

You feel guilty that he’s been seeing you so often and leaving Sarah with the neighbor. And you feel even worse knowing that he feels bad about it. He doesn’t realize what a good fucking dad he is, and that is just another trait of his that drives you crazy. A sweet, thoughtful, loving father who would die for his daughter is a dream, and you know Sarah is aware of how lucky she is.

***

The rest of the week drags by, every day seeming longer and more tedious than the last as you wait for it to finally be Friday. Class seems to run longer than usual, your lunch break feels like hours, and the walk to your car from the school seems like it’s taking centuries.

You pull your vibrating phone from your skirt pocket as you tread against the hot asphalt that is baking you from beneath, while the sun works to cook you from above. Joel’s name makes you smile and cock your head a bit in surprise. Why is he calling you as you’re leaving school? He never has before.

“Hello?” you answer, an obvious grin in your voice.

“Hey, you. I’m still working, but I snuck away to see how your day went. I was figuring you were probably leaving right about now.”

Your heart soars, letting out a timid giggle. “Yes, actually. I’m getting into my car right now.”

“Ooo, giving me a play-by-play. Kinda reminds me of our phone call the other night,” Joel teases, humor twisted into the husky rasp.

“Joel,” you scold with a laugh as your thighs squeeze together, “I’m not even home and you’re already starting.”

He chuckles. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll behave. Also, is it okay if I pick you up at seven for our date?”

“I completely forgot about that!” you say sarcastically. “Sorry, can’t make it.”

Joel laughs loudly into the phone, your cheeks burning. “Ah, man. That really sucks. I had this big thing all planned out,” he jests as he keeps up the joke. “Should I call and cancel the jet ride to Paris?” he asks facetiously.

You cackle. “God, can you imagine taking a jet to Paris?”

“Sorry, I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Aw, Joel, I don’t care about money. I just want to spend time with you,” you grin like an idiot as you sit in your car. “Seven is perfect for walking, talking, or Paris.”

He laughs lightly. “You’re amazing, y/n, you know that?”

“I think you’re gonna have to show me how amazing you think I am.”

“I will, I promise,” Joel audibly smiles as he speaks. “Thank you for being so understanding about me not wanting to keep leaving Sarah. It really means a lot to me.”

“Not only do I work with kids for a living, but I’m not going to come between what you two have. It’s so special and unfortunately, kinda rare. Sarah is such a sweet girl and she loves you to death. I don’t want to take you away from her. I’m good with seeing you whenever you want.”

“Perfect words from an even more perfect mouth. Thank you, y/n.” Joel lets out a small, content sigh. “I’ll see you later, petal.”

Petal? You could melt into the leather seat beneath you from the new pet name that Joel has slipped into your ear.

“Bye,” you giggle, hanging up the phone.

The entire drive home, your mind is reeling over the fact that you’re going on a date with a hot dad who calls you the sweetest of names. You miss his soft, skilled lips and the feel of his firm, lightly haired chest against yours. You haven’t seen him since you made him dinner, and that’s genuinely okay with you.

Of course you’d like to see him more often, but this is ridiculously new, and he has a daughter that he’s raising by himself. He’s a wonderful man, and the fact that he actually wants to raise his daughter is another rarity, and nothing but a bright neon green flag to you.

You get home and immediately jump into the shower, shaving your legs and underarms just to feel more comfortable. You don’t bother shaving anywhere else, knowing that nothing penetrative can happen between the two of you yet.

You’ve been obsessively checking your email, always coming up with nothing from the gynecologist. The beat of your heart quickens every time you open the app, refreshing the page several times to make sure you haven’t just missed it.

It’s ludicrous how much you crave this man. Even with your first time with Sam you weren’t as desperate for his body as you are for Joel’s. You know that they’re two vastly different men, but Joel just ignites this fire within you that nobody has ever struck a match to. He’s able to break you down with just his words, making you orgasm quicker than you ever have with anybody, or even alone.

As you step out of the steamy shower, you toss your hair up into a towel, wringing it slightly before wrapping it up into the cotton fabric. You prep your skin for makeup, wanting to go all-out for Joel, but also being worried about going overboard.

Sam would always comment when you’d wear “a lot” of makeup, and you never realized that your want to wear it majorly dwindled. The more you sit and ponder the memories that swirl around in your mind, it dawns on you that Sam has negatively affected you more than you originally thought.

You had already reached your limit with him by the time he broke the news that he cheated on you, but there was more that he did or said during your one year engagement when he changed that you unknowingly brushed off. Your already minuscule self-confidence has been thrown, leaving you a weakened, dehydrated corpse in the land of self-hate.

The thoughts begin to affect your body, a physical reaction blossoming within you that makes your heart begin to race. All you want to do is call Joel for help, but what if you get this feeling once he leaves you, too? What then?

Ways to calm yourself down displays itself in your mind as a short, yet still overwhelming list. You go through the deep breathing, focusing on anything other than your reflection as you attempt to calm the sudden, intense panic.

Your feet carry you as calmly as they can muster to the fridge, grabbing out the remains of your nearly emptied wine bottle. The cork lets out a low pop when you pull it, pressing the cold emerald-tinted glass to your lips, downing the remains of what lies within.

A satisfied sigh leaves your throat, your eyes closing as your pulse begins to dwindle. You’re not an alcoholic by any means, but it has almost always helped you relax when you become panicky. When you figured that out (illegally) at 18, you used it as your own personal therapy session, since actual therapy is way more expensive.

Even just the feeling of the crisp, icy alcohol sliding down your throat is enough to alleviate the anxiety, only because you know that the relief will come soon enough.

There’s a knock on your door after you’ve finished getting ready, fastening the right buckle on your heel before standing off from your bed. The heels clunk quietly on the carpet, suddenly sounding like a freshly shoed horse once you reach the wooden floor of the living room.

You straighten out your silky dress, letting out a steady breath before pulling the door open. The excited, giddy expression on your face falls when you see Sam standing in your doorway.

“Wha—” you hesitate, perplexed, “what are you doing here?”

There’s a solemn sulkiness in his blue eyes, and his eyes are bloodshot to hell.

“Y/n,” he begins, “you look amazing.” His eyes scoop up your body before settling onto your breasts. “Can we talk?”

Your arms cross over your chest, shaking your head at him. “No, Sam. I don’t have anything to say to you. Please leave.”

“Just hear me out!” he yells. “I want you back. I’m so sorry for what I did. I fucked up.”

“No,” you continue shaking your head, reaching for your phone in your purse. “Leave.”

Sam steps inside, his stature looming over you; the tall physique you once loved now terrifying you to your core. “Talk to me.”

“No!” you shout. “You reek of scotch,” you nearly retch. “Get out of my house!”

“It’s my house too, you bitch!”

A numb fear makes its way around your entire body, the flight response in you kicking in, forcing you to turn and run away, locking yourself in your bedroom. Sam bangs on the door, yanking on the knob with such force, you’re terrified he’ll pull it off in one go.

Your trembling fingers press on Joel’s contact, unsure of what a drunk Sam is going to do. You’ve never seen him this plastered, and you’re absolutely petrified.

“Hello?” Joel answers happily.

“Joel,” you say quickly, “Sam is here and really drunk. Please come help me. I’m trapped in my room and he’s banging on the door. I-I’ve never seen him like this, please.”

The line is quiet, hearing some fumbling coming from the phone before the distinct sound of a car door closing. “Are you safe?” he asks flatly.

“Yes, for now. I don’t think he’d hurt me, he’s just acting really erratic.”

“The way he’s acting is uncalled for. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’m not stopping for any fucking lights or signs.”

The door behind your back shakes as Sam continues knocking against it aggressively, yelling profanities and slurs that you can’t quite make out through the thick wood.

“God, Joel, please be careful,” you say as calmly as you can manage. “You’ll be a lot more help if you get here alive.”

“I’ll be fine,” Joel responds without emotion again.

Your brows furrow, worry swallowing you whole. “Are you mad?”

“Not with you, sweet girl. Be there in one minute. Stay on the phone with me.”

Even though he can’t see you, you nod your head anyway, practicing your calming breaths as you hear tires screeching onto pavement outside. There’s no way that’s Joel, right?

“I’m here. Stay in the room.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Sam’s violent screaming suddenly stops, everything going completely silent out in the living room. Your apprehension and curiosity get the better of you, your hand gently turning the knob to peak out of your bedroom.

Your eyes blow wide as you see Joel holding a long, black shotgun, pointing it directly at Sam.

“You have about ten seconds to get out of here before I blow a hole in your goddamn chest,” Joel says firmly as he stares Sam down.

He wobbles slightly from the alcohol, his hands up as he keeps his torso faced towards Joel. “Oh, so this is who she’s all dressed up for, huh? How ya doin’, Joel? Enjoying fucking my fiancée?”

Joel cocks the shotgun, resting his finger on the trigger. “Another word, and you’re a dead man.”

You step out of the bedroom more, watching the scene unfold as Sam makes his way to the open front door. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going, tough guy.”

Your eyes follow him, leaving your room as you watch him completely step out of the house past the stoop. He backs all the way up to his car, seeing Joel’s idling black truck lazily parked halfway onto the grass.

Sam peels away, both you and Joel letting out an audible sigh as he disappears. You peer at him through your lashes, feeling even more turned on by him now than before. He de-cocks the shotgun, resting it beside the front door as he closes it gently, turning the lock.

Joel strides towards you, scooping your face up into his hands as he takes your lips firmly against his. “You okay?”

You’re too Joel-drunk to respond, lacing your fingers into his unruly dark hair that’s soft to the touch. Your mouth reattaches to his, his hands on the small of your back, pulling you in closer.

He leans away, gazing down at you. “Talk to me, y/n, are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. I can’t believe you threatened to shoot him,” you let out a small giggle. “Why is that so fucking hot?”

Joel chuckles, kissing your forehead as he holds you at arm’s length. “Let me get a proper look at you now.” He holds your hand above your head, allowing you to slowly turn your body around, feeling like a ballerina in a musical toy box. “Wow,” he breathes out sharply, “you’re so beautiful, y/n. And I love that you’re still wearing the necklace I got you.”

Your cheeks go hot at his compliment, your eyes flicking to the weapon that leans against the living room wall. “That’s not staying here, right?”

He turns to follow your line of sight, quickly shaking his head as he meets your gaze again. “No. I’m sorry if it scares you, it was meant to scare Sam.”

Giggling, you wrap your arms around his midsection. “I think it worked.”

Joel brushes your hair behind your ear, grazing your cheek with the side of his finger. “I’m glad you’re all right, y/n. I was so fucking worried, that I just did what I knew would get him to leave without us having to get into a physical altercation.”

“Mmm,” you hum, “I should hire you to be my big, sexy bodyguard.”

He chuckles, placing a gentle kiss on your lips before pulling away to say, “I’ll do it for free, honey.”

You and Joel leave the house, his left hand carrying the gun as his right is intertwined with yours. He tosses the weapon into the backseat of his truck, opening the passenger door for you. Joel lets out a little grunt as he gets into the driver’s side, flashing you a quick smile before leveling the truck out onto the road.

“So, where are we headed? I think it’ll be hard to top all of that excitement,” you tease, giggling.

“Maybe I got a jet after all,” he snickers. “I want it to be a surprise.”

You nod, picking at your fingers in your lap. “You know, it’s crazy that something so scary just happened, but I feel perfectly safe and happy now. Thank you so much, Joel.”

He reaches over and places his palm on your thigh, giving it a gentle grip before grinning shyly at you. “I’m sorry it happened, but I’m happy that you called me.”

Your flesh sears beneath his hand, your thighs desperately wanting to squeeze together to alleviate the growing ache that you have for Joel between them. He’s intimidated your ex, protected you, and made you feel like a shining star of beauty all within the last fifteen minutes. You’re beginning to believe that you’ll never find someone more perfect.

Everything was such a blur at home, that you weren’t able to appreciate the way Joel is dressed. He’s wearing a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows. For his bottoms, he has fitted black slacks that accentuate every perfect outline of his legs, and the thickness between them. Your eyes travel up his body to his face, licking your lips as you admire his still tousled hair that has been tamed only a bit.

Joel catches you staring, a grin forming on his perfect lips. “What?” he asks sheepishly.

“You just are so fucking handsome. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner, but my god, Joel.”

He laughs loudly, a redness having formed in his cheeks as he squeezes your thigh gently. “Thank you, y/n.”

Joel keeps his hand on your leg until he pulls in to a parking spot that has no buildings surrounding it.

Your head whips around, giving him a curious look. “And now you kill me?” you joke.

He laughs, shaking his head. “It’s just a bit of a walk. The parking across the street from the restaurant is always completely packed, so I wanted to find a nearby parking lot. You mind walking?”

You shake your head. “Of course not.”

Joel walks around the front of the truck, opening your door as he helps you out with his rough, calloused hand. You step down, wobbling a bit from your heels and the step from the door. He chuckles lightly as you begin your walk, the evening breeze caressing your skin delicately.

“Now, I’ve never been here before, but I’ve heard good things about it. It’s supposed to be nice,” he begins, his palm turning clammy in yours, “so, if you don’t like it, don’t blame me,” Joel lets out a nervous laugh.

“Joel,” you tell him gently, “you know that I’m not difficult to please, right? I’m just happy to be out with you. I told you that.”

He shakes his head. “You make me so nervous, and I don’t know why.” He scoffs lightly, “Well, I know why, but it’s frustrating for me. I just want to be calm.”

You stop walking, your feet halting on the sidewalk as you wait for Joel to turn to you. Your hands slide up his shirt, finding their way into the hair at the base of his head. You run your nose gently along his, giving him a soft, lingering kiss.

“You are the most perfect man,” you beam. “You don’t have to be nervous around me. So far, you’ve made me happier in the last week of knowing you than Sam made me in the last year. I promise you that I am crazy about you.” You pull away to gaze into those soft brown eyes that are innocent yet alluring at the same time. “I’ve been feeling a little self conscious myself, and truthfully I was overthinking everything while getting ready tonight. I wanted to wear just the right amount of makeup to please you, and the perfect dress, and I just wanted to be perfect.” You shrug, “I panicked.”

“Oh, honey,” his brows furrow with sympathy, planting a feathery kiss to the middle of your forehead. “You’re already so perfect to me.”

You giggle as your eyes water, trying to hide your sudden emotion. “You can’t be real.”

Joel tilts your head back up to meet your gaze, running his thumb along your cheek. “I’ve thought that about you since I first saw you at the park. What the hell is a woman like you doing with me?”

“Being happy for once.”

The two of you share a sensual, neat kiss on the sidewalk before reluctantly parting to walk towards the restaurant. The outside has a blue and white striped awning that is twinkling with pale yellow lights hanging from the bottom. Vast windows cover the outside, allowing you a clear look into the intimate, darkened setting of the place.

Joel pulls open the door, allowing you to step in first before he follows behind you. He tells the hostess the name for two, and she nods in response.

“Miller for two, please follow me,” she beams as she leaves the stand.

You both trail behind her, Joel’s hand clasped with yours as you’re lead to your table. Your seats are not at all what you’d expect. The entire wall against the windows is covered with a long, u-shaped couch with thick, teal cushions. The tables that aid the couch are a circular dark oak that compliments the atmosphere perfectly.

She leads you to your little corner, Joel gesturing you forward to choose where you want to sit. You land on the apex where the two corners meet, your body being enveloped by the plush cushion behind you. Joel sits beside you where the couch has a wooden armrest to his left that matches the table.

“This is the most comfortable I’ve ever been at a restaurant,” your voice is giddy and high-pitched. “I love it!”

He beams at you, placing his hand on your leg as he leans in to give you a chaste kiss. “I had to reserve these seats. They drew me in when I looked online.”

“They’re perfect,” you laugh lightly.

A server comes over and takes your drink order, Joel ordering a bottle of wine and a water, looking to you for approval before ordering a water for you, as well.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Miller?” you jest.

“Just thought the alcohol might make us both a little less insecure,” he chuckles. “And I noticed at your house that you like white wine, so I just picked a random one. I hope you’ll like it.”

“It’s wine,” you laugh, “I’ll like it.”

You open the menu and explore for food options, your finger landing on a steak dish to show off to Joel.

“You already know me so well,” he giggles lightly. “Hmm, let me see about you, let me guess.” You watch as his finger runs across the menu, being briefly mesmerized before he lands on the exact dish you had your eye on.

“Am I really that predictable already? I need to be more mysterious.”

Joel laughs with you, his hand pushing through his hair briefly before connecting his gaze to yours. “I think both of us are too emotionally vulnerable to be mysterious, sweetheart.”

You let out a loud cackle, instantly covering your mouth in embarrassment as you feel your face brighten. “My god, I’m sorry. That was obnoxious.”

His head rolls back as he continues to chuckle, his hand on your thigh once again as he shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing obnoxious about you. Your laugh is fucking adorable.”

As you beam at him with adoration, the server returns with your drinks, offering to pour the wine to which Joel agrees. The man takes your orders, Joel throwing in a last minute appetizer that makes you roll your eyes. The prices here are insane, and you don’t want to be an overly-expensive date. Of course you love being treated like royalty, but you can’t help how guilty it makes you feel.

“Thank you, but you didn’t need to get an appetizer,” you say shyly. “I feel bad.”

He shrugs. “Why? Do you know how often I go on nice dates?”

“No.”

“Never,” he beams. “And I want it to be special because my date is very special to me.”

“Yeah?” your body leans in to his. “My date is very special to me, too.”

Joel’s eyes lower as he gives you a hooded, longing stare, that desire you saw in the pool making itself evident in his gaze.

You feel frozen in place, the heat between the two of you nearly tangible. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asks lowly, his face inching closer to yours. “Can’t I tease you in public?”

A small, hushed gasp catches in your throat, feeling Joel’s hand creep up your leg beneath the silky fabric of your dress.

“Joel,” you let out quietly, your eyes looking everywhere but at him.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispers, backing away slightly to take a large gulp of his wine.

You shake your head.

“Tell me what you want.” His fingers are nearing your dampened panties, his voice becoming more raspy by the second. “You want me to keep going, y/n?”

“Yes,” you say, barely audible.

The table covers most of your legs, any onlooker only assuming that Joel has his hand on one of them. Nobody would ever think that two people would be so demented as to do something like this in a nice establishment, right?

He brings his wine glass to your lips, giving you as much as you can take before pulling it away, your breath becoming unsteady after you swallow. You can feel his fingertips beginning to pull the fabric aside and off of your weeping core, your eyes briefly fluttering closed.

Joel’s eyes are burning into the side of your head as you worriedly watch for anybody to acknowledge your existence. The slow pace in which he works is only torturing you further, making you lick your lips in anticipation.

His first finger slips easily past your folds, a slight groan coming from his throat. “Jesus christ, angel. Does it turn you on knowing we could be caught at any second?”

Your brows furrow together as you bite your lip, quickly nodding your head. “Yes.”

He tsks, shaking his head as he teases your entrance, not inserting himself inside. “Should I really be calling you angel? Name’s too innocent for you.”

“Joel,” you quietly whine, trying to move your hips to feel his finger inside of you, but he only pulls away.

“Hmm?” he hums. “Somebody watching?”

“No,” you breathe out. “Just want to feel you, please.”

Joel withdraws completely, adjusting your panties before resting his hand innocently back onto your thigh. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. Only wanted to tease you.”

The server returns shortly after with the appetizer, your brain being completely scattered and out of order from the intense arousal you feel. Joel has made you feel embarrassingly deprived and desperate in only a week of knowing him. How the hell are you ever going to survive this man?

He holds up one of the little appetizers for you to try and you lean in, keeping your eyes on his as you take a bite of the food. Your stomach moans in delight, but your libido is kicking and screaming in frustration.

“Good?” he arches a brow as he smirks.

“Very,” you nod, “thank you.” You down a bit of your wine, deciding that two can play at the game that he’s started.

Your hand slides around his thigh tenderly, admiring the firmness and the obvious strength beneath the slacks. A noticeable bulge is at the apex of his pants, making you smile to yourself as you place your palm against it. Joel’s body jerks forward slightly, his fist covering his mouth as he tries to maintain composure.

“Don’t worry,” you whisper, “I’m only teasing.”

You grip him in his slacks, stroking him up and down through the fabric, even going as far as to swirl your thumb around his tip.

“Y/n,” he lets out a quiet, shuddery moan. “I’ll make a much bigger mess than you would. And you drive me so fucking crazy that it’s very possible it will happen.”

“What will happen?” you play dumb, continuing to stroke him. “Tell me, Joel.”

His face has reddened and his breathing has hitched. “You’ll make me cum right here, right now.”

Your walls clench around nothing. “Maybe I want you to.”

“I’m already close, y/n. You get me so worked up.”

“Yeah?” Your hand moves a little quicker, briefly checking your surroundings before continuing to watch him hide his pleasure. “You do the same to me, but I keep getting denied.”

Joel’s lips part as he sucks in a sharp breath, his fists clenched against the table top. “You’re not an angel, baby. You’re a goddamn succubus.”

As his body shudders you pull away, ceasing all contact as you take a hearty toss back of your wine, letting out a content sigh. “Well, this succubus is declaring war.”

His brows are pinched together, his face turned down towards the table as he grunts quietly beneath his breath. “You are unbelievable in all the best and worst ways,” he chuckles lightly, flashing those darkened eyes at you. “War it is, honey.”

After a divine, sexually-charged meal, Joel pays, adjusting himself on the couch as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“Did you like everything?” he asks sweetly, placing a kiss on your temple.

“It was delicious,” you beam. “Thank you.”

He grins back. “Thank you for being my date.”

You finish your second glass of wine, watching as the server takes the black book with Joel’s card in it. “And thank you for being mine,” you giggle. “So, where to now?”

“Well,” he begins, “would you still like to have that sleepover we talked about?”

“Yes,” you answer quickly, Joel giggling at your hastiness.

“Your house or mine?”

You hum, thinking. “Well, when will Sarah be back?”

“I’m picking her up Sunday. She’s staying the entire weekend.”

“And you’re not working tomorrow?”

Joel shakes his head. “Not this week.”

“It’s wherever you want. I have a pool, but I’m also a little terrified to sleep there right now because of Sam.”

The hazy, lust-drunk look in his eyes fades slightly, his head bobbing up and down. “Then mine?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Before Joel pulls out of the parking lot, you leap over the center console, smushing your lips against his. He tastes of white wine and steak, making you moan into his mouth.

“I want you so fucking bad,” you groan, swirling your tongue with his. “I can’t stand to wait anymore.”

Joel moans quietly, his hands all over your back as yours stay rested on either side of his face. “I want you, too. We can always just use a condom, y/n. I don’t care.”

“No,” you shake your head. “I want to feel you.” You slide your hand to the middle of his pants. “I want to feel all of you.”

He groans, reattaching your lips hastily before pulling away to press his forehead to yours. “Then we’ll wait,” he breathes.

You let out an exasperated groan as you settle back into your seat, buckling yourself in as Joel lets out a playful laugh.

“You can’t be bratty at the decision you made, y/n,” he giggles. “That’s not how that works.”

“Yes I can!” you laugh, playfully shoving him. “You just make me feel so fucking—”

“Depraved?”

“Yes! Exactly.”

“Yep. Exactly where I’m at with you too, honey.”

You squirm a bit as Joel begins to drive back to his house. “I really liked when you called me petal,” you say lowly. “I’ve never been called that before.”

“Really?” he beams proudly. “It’s nice to know that I’m the first to call you that. I’ve never said that to anyone before, it just kinda came to me.”

“It was so hot,” you laugh. “I love all the pet names, but that one’s my favorite.”

“I’m glad you told me,” he places his hand at his familiar spot against your thigh, “I can use that to my advantage.”

Back at Joel’s, he unlocks the front door and you are guided in by his hand, stepping in awkwardly as you turn to watch him come in after you. He walks to the kitchen table and places the keys down, beginning to slide off his shoes.

You bend down to unbuckle your heel, but Joel’s voice stops you, making you stand to watch him stride across the house to you.

“Let me,” he says gently.

The man gets onto his one knee, raising your dress above your own knee as he places your foot onto his thigh. He gives you a soft smirk before focusing onto your heel, gently sliding it off before doing the same with the other.

You know that he can clearly see up your dress this way, but he doesn’t even glance between your legs, and you’re not sure if you admire how much of a gentleman he is, or if you’re frustrated that he didn’t steal a perverted look at you.

He stands, silently taking your hand as he shows you where the bathroom is, then his bedroom. The room smells completely like him, and you want to be enveloped in this scent forever. He has a large bed off to the right that is paired with two matching night tables on either side.

You suddenly have a sinking, icky feeling inside thinking about how one side of the bed used to be his wife’s. You know that it’s been a long time and that he’s allowed to move on, but you can’t shake the guilt that’s churning into panic in your chest.

Your hand strokes the necklace that rests on your chest, clutching it tightly as you’re reminded of your mother’s passing, and how it hasn’t gotten any easier. How could it have possibly gotten easier for Joel?

He has his back turned to you, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his shoulders. The clothing flies across the room, swishing into a laundry basket that has a few other things in it.

Joel finally looks to you, his grinning face falling to worry in an instant. “Y/n? What is it? What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, the panic nearly taking over your ability to speak. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t think I can sleep here.”

“Okay. Of course, baby. Let me take you home,” he says softly, giving you a soft kiss on the forehead before turning away to retrieve another shirt from his closet.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again. “It’s just—” your eyes linger on the bed, nearly feeling like you can see another woman gazing back at you.

Joel pulls on a t-shirt, placing his hands on either side of your face to gain your attention. “Talk to me. What’s bothering you?”

“I can’t sleep where your wife slept, Joel. I feel so guilty.”

His eyes soften, a small grin creeping onto his face. “Y/n, you’re the most considerate, incredible woman.” He kisses your forehead again. “My wife never slept in that bed.”

You blink up at him. “She didn’t?”

“No.”

“But why?”

Joel smiles. “She told me she wanted me to move on after her, and she didn’t want me to be alone for the rest of my life. It took a few years, but I finally decided to start dating again. Even though nothing ever went anywhere, I still had the thought that if I ever slept with another woman again, I didn’t want it to be in the bed I shared with my wife.” He gestures behind him to the vast bed. “So, if you’d still like to stay, you would be the first woman to ever be in that bed.”

You want to cry. You want to burst into tears and apologize for being such an idiot, but also thank him for being the most understanding man on the planet. Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him neatly with your fingers in his hair.

“How are you so perfect, Joel? Were you made in a lab?”

He cocks his head back slightly as he laughs, your eyes on his throat. “Yes. There’s some very perfect Joel-like rats out there that they tested on first before they made me.”

You giggle, leaning up to kiss him again. “You’re such a goofball.”

“Yeah, and you love it.” He pulls you in with his hands drifting down your back. “Do you still want to stay the night with me?”

You nod, raising your arms above your head. “I can’t sleep in a dress.”

Joel chuckles, bunching your dress up on the sides with his hands before he pulls it off, tossing it across the room once you’re free of it. His eyes stay fixed on yours, even though your breasts are exposed to him. He raises his arms, making you giggle as you slowly pull his shirt up, running your hands up his sides to slide it off.

His hands cup your breasts, his lips gingerly pressing to yours as he moves his hands in slow, kneading circles. The sensation isn’t as much arousing as it is therapeutic, like a massage. You let out a satisfied hum as your head rolls back, Joel purposefully massaging your chest now.

“Will you lay down for me?” he asks quietly.

You open your eyes and nod, climbing onto the bed to lay on your back until Joel guides you to your stomach. You hear his slacks being kicked off before you feel his weight pressing into the bed, his knees straddling your thighs as he leans down and places a gentle kiss at the top of your spine.

“Every inch of you is perfect, y/n,” he says between kisses, making goosebumps rise up to your skin. “You’re so soft.” He leans away, his fingers slowly beginning to knead at your back. “How does that feel?”

“So good,” you groan, enjoying the unexpected massage. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, petal,” he says quietly, making your thighs press together beneath him. “Just want you to feel good.”

“You always make me feel good.”

He chuckles quietly, his hands sliding down your spine to the very bottom, right above your panty line. You coo at the relief, that section of your back being the part that gives an occasional soreness from sitting at work for too long.

Joel’s thumbs press into you, your hands on either side of your head as you enjoy his sensual touch. You can’t help the arousal you feel from it. It’s Joel, for fuck’s sake.

He leans down moving his hand up your back to rub your scalp gently. “Do you want me to make you cum, petal?”

A small moan makes its debut from your lips, your head immediately nodding. “Yes, please.”

Joel kisses the shell of your ear as his hand moves beneath you, your hips immediately lifting up to grant him access. He doesn’t play games like earlier at the restaurant. This time, he slides into the top of your panties and begins to rub your swollen clit in circles.

Your hands squeeze at the bed, gripping it tightly as you let out a choked groan. “Please don’t tease me this time, Joel. I can’t handle it again.”

“I won’t, sweet girl. The war was over the second I felt how wet you are. You need me, baby, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you moan, his fingers rubbing you skillfully. “So badly.”

“I love to hear you so desperate for me. Makes me feel like a king.”

His erection is pressing hard into your back through his briefs, and all you want is to feel him stretch you.

“Joel,” you whimper, your hips pushing against his fingers, “I want you inside of me.”

“Shh,” he shushes gently. “Enjoy my fingers for now. A few more days and I’m all yours.”

This is reminiscent of when the two of you had phone sex the other day, but this time is way better. Joel is the one touching you, and he’s actually here, his weight on top of you and his breath against your ear.

You groan, squirming beneath him as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your peak. His fingers speed up, keeping his tight, neat circles against you.

His tongue swipes up your earlobe, nibbling on it gently as he faintly grunts into it. “Yes, y/n. Can tell you’re close by the way you’re wiggling. Let go for me, petal.”

The pet name is the final thing that causes the band in your abdomen to snap, your cries barreling out of you as your walls flutter desperately around absolutely nothing. His fingers keep up their pace until the sensation becomes too much, making you jerk your hips aside. Joel pulls his hand away, your back heaving against him from the intensity of your climax.

“Mmm, so good for me, angel. You listen so fucking well,” Joel praises into your ear, giving the side of your head a gentle kiss. “You feel relaxed enough for bed now?”

You nod lazily into the pillow, your eyes feeling heavy as you slowly turn onto your side, watching Joel lay beside you.

“What about you?” your voice rasps, reaching for his obviously hardened cock.

Joel gently stops you, bringing your knuckles up to his mouth to place his lips against them softly. “This wasn’t about me, baby.” He kisses your knuckles again. “Get some sleep. We have all day tomorrow to do whatever you want.”

You beam at him, your lids sliding closed. “What if I want tomorrow to be about you?”

He chuckles, leaning in and kissing you softly, pulling your body into his. “Good night, y/n.”

“Good night, Joel.”

****

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #smut #yn fanfic #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou smut

21 notes · View notes

arielhopepeace · 1 year

Text

Part Three

18+ only

Tw: mention of cancer, death, cheating, slight smut, masturbation, age gap

5,500 words

Joel POV

The sun bears down onto my skin, darkening it with its harsh rays as sweat drips from beneath my hard hat. Today is ridiculously sweltering, and honestly making me feel like it should be outlawed to have to work in this type of heat.

My thoughts are enough of a distraction from the fact that I’m cooking out here, though. Ever since I left y/n’s house last night, I haven’t gotten the feel of her body against mine out of my mind. She was so soft, like a cloud that I reached up into the sky and grazed, letting the fog run between my fingertips.

I know that me going out of my way to help her change her locks is just furthering me into the friend-zone with her. It dawned on me that I needed to leave her house once the feeling of needing to kiss her began to build within my stomach, giving me that light tingly feeling of butterflies that I haven’t felt in eons.

Y/n is so effortlessly beautiful, that it makes me feel winded any time I’m around her. I hoped she hadn’t felt my racing heart and trembling hands as we embraced, the close proximity only adding to the apprehension I already had just from being at her house.

My mind was so dead-set on getting to know her, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that it would be inappropriate. Isn’t there some sort of rule against dating a student’s parent? Even if I hadn’t already friend-zoned myself, I wouldn’t want Sarah to get involved and either hate her teacher, or have to suffer with losing her if it didn’t work out.

I’ve never thought this far ahead about a woman since my wife, and I know that it’s because y/n is different. Nobody understands the pain I feel, but she does; and she doesn’t give me the pitiful apologies that are only from the surface, they’re from that deep chasm within, as if she’s sympathizing with her younger self as well.

It’s tiring spending all my time thinking about these fabricated ideas of a woman who considers me as nothing more than a student’s father. I’m honestly incredibly nervous to see her again today, even though every part of me can’t wait to gaze upon her perfectly symmetrical face.

After work, I head to the hardware store, buying everything I need in order to change her two locks. I look ridiculously dirty, and I feel grimy from all the dirt and concrete that has gotten kicked up by my boots. There’s wood shavings in my hair as I check myself in my rear view mirror, doing my best to ruffle anything that doesn’t belong out.

“God,” I groan as I shake my head, knowing that she’s going to look perfectly stunning, and I’m going to show up looking like I rolled in the mud.

I send her a text to let her know that I’m here, noticing that all of her windows, and even her front door is wide open. What the hell is she doing that for in this heat?

As I grab my things out of the truck cab, I jump slightly at the sound of y/n greeting me from beside the open door.

“Shit,” I curse lightly, still stretched into the cab, “you scared me.”

“Sorry,” she laughs sheepishly. “I’m just letting you know that it’s really hot in my house. For some reason, my A/C went out some time last night, and I can’t get a guy out here until tomorrow.”

Closing the door, I lean back, finally meeting y/n’s gaze as my mouth instantly dries at the sight of her. Her hair has been pulled up into a loose bun, and she’s wearing nothing but a black bikini. My cock is immediately awake, poking against the prison of my jeans and begging to be let out.

I quickly move the supply bags to in front of me, hoping to shield the ridiculous, embarrassing erection that has popped up.

“Oh, uh, I could take a look at that, too,” I finally answer.

My god, what am I, fucking fifteen?

Y/n cocks her head slightly, “I couldn’t ask you to do that for me on top of the locks.”

“Actually,” I begin as we walk toward the house, “you didn’t ask me to do either. I offered both.”

She giggles from behind me, prompting a smirk to spread onto my face. “Please, let me get you a beer or something.”

I set my things down by the front door, watching as she walks away into the stifling house. My eyes are on her hips, watching them swing side to side, her ass having the perfect bounce to it. Gazing at her doesn’t alleviate the uncomfortable situation in my jeans, forcing me to reluctantly turn my eyes away to focus on the task at hand.

As I begin to unscrew the current doorknob, y/n twists open the beer, sitting across from me in the house as I rest on the doorstep. She places the bottle next to me on the living room floor, my eyes desperately trying to not stare at her chest. I don’t think she realizes how attractive she is, and how attracted I am to her. I’ve never been the type of guy to objectify a woman by any means, I just am dumbfounded by her looks.

“Did you have a good day?” she asks sweetly, her voice so charming and gentle.

“It was so hot today,” I wipe my sweaty forehead on my dirtied shirt. “But yeah, it was okay. How about you? How was school?”

“It was good,” she nods with a small smile. “I’m having the kids write a non-fiction essay for English. Nothing super long, but I just want to know where their writing is at.”

“An essay?” I chuckle. “Sarah will be thrilled,” I tell her sarcastically.

“Actually,” y/n laughs, “she said she was excited. I asked her what she wanted to write about, and she picked you.”

My hands stop their work, pinning my gaze to hers as a smile forces my lips apart. “I’ll never understand why that girl loves me so much, but she makes me feel like the luckiest dad in the world.”

Her face goes soft with admiration, her brows fitted together with a smile on her supple lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever known a kid to love their parent so much. Well, maybe except for me,” she teases. “Some kids in my class don’t even have parents for various reasons. I’ve looked into all of my students, just to make sure I don’t bring up any rough subjects on accident, or maybe in a story.”

I continue unscrewing the knob, beaming wide. “That’s so nice of you, and incredibly smart.”

“Well, you kind of have to be smart to be a teacher, don’t you?” she laughs lightly.

“Oh, for sure. I think you’re the perfect person for that job.”

“You do?”

“Of course,” I chuckle. “You’re overly nice, compassionate, considerate, eager to understand. All the kids love you for a reason, y/n.”

Her hand brushes against my leg, patting it gently just above my knee. “You’re sweet, Joel. What would I do without you filling my head with all of these compliments?”

A sharp, unexpected laugh leaves me. “Maybe you’d have a smaller head.”

She gapes at me as she giggles, smacking my arm playfully. “Oh, shut up. I don’t seem conceited, do I?”

“God, no,” I laugh. “I’m only teasing. You have a perfectly normal shaped head; physically and metaphorically.”

Finally, I’m able to pop in the new doorknob, taking a few sips of beer before resuming my task.

“How do you know how to do all of this?” she asks from beside me.

“Well, working in construction helps, but I also just like to be handy. I’ve done a lot of extensive research on repairs and mechanical things, even cars. I probably could tell you what was wrong with your A/C too since you want to work me to death out here.”

Y/n laughs with her head tilted back. “You’re more than welcome to use my pool once you’re done, it’s where I’m headed to soon.”

“Ah, no. I’m so dirty from work, I’d rather take a shower.”

“You can use my shower, too. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

If only she were an option. I can’t stop imagining kissing her as I run my fingers across her smooth skin, savoring every push of her lips. Jesus christ, what’s wrong with me? That uncomfortable situation has returned, making me shift in order to shield my tented jeans.

“Has Sam been back?” I ask, deciding to change the subject away from whatever led me to my dirty thoughts.

“No,” she shakes her head. “And I’m glad he hasn’t. I have an appointment tomorrow to get looked at. Hopefully they can tell me that nothing’s wrong with me, because I was up late last night freaking out about it.”

“I’m sorry that you have to worry about that. He’s—” my voice trails off, deciding not to let my personal opinions of him be said. “You just deserve better than that.”

“Yeah, well,” she sighs, “I’ll find it one day, won’t I?”

I nod. “Of course you will.”

After finishing both of the knobs, the sun still has yet to set, allowing me enough light to check out her A/C unit. Y/n follows me, my eyes immediately locking onto the problem before me.

“My god,” I mutter as I crouch down, placing my finger beneath a cut wire. “Somebody cut it.”

Y/n places her hands on her hips. “Cut it?!” she shouts. “Gee, I wonder who would’ve manipulated my house that I have to pay rent for alone,” her voice drips with sarcasm.

“You really think Sam did this?” I ask as I gaze up at her.

“Of course he did,” she shakes her head. “He knows I’d have to pay a ton of money to get it fixed. He’s being spiteful because I kicked him out. I honestly wish I knew where he was staying so I could slash his fucking tires.”

I can’t help but laugh at her foul language, her sudden spark of anger only making me adore her more. “Nah, don’t stoop to his level. I can fix this for you right now for no charge.”

“Joel, please let me repay you somehow. Can you at least let me make you dinner tonight?”

“It’s already almost seven-thirty. Are you sure?”

Y/n nods vehemently. “I’m positive. I haven’t eaten yet, anyway.”

“How about I get this fixed up, go home, take a shower and change, then I’ll come back.”

“Will you bring a swimsuit? I’ll make you steak,” she says in a sing-songy voice.

A small chuckle pushes past my lips. “Sure, fine.”

Y/n does a giddy clap and bounce, her breasts moving in her top and I immediately advert my eyes, standing as I go to grab different tools out of my truck.

“Are you a good ol’ steak and potato kind of guy?” y/n giggles.

I close my truck door, walking back to the A/C unit as I laugh. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Okay, so steak, potato, beer, and football?”

“Any sport is fine with me, actually,” I laugh. “You make me sound so ‘suburban dad’.”

She crosses her arms. “You are a suburban dad, Joel.”

“Okay, touché,” I chuckle. “Do you think I’m mundane?”

“No!” she responds quickly and with immediate passion. “Why would I want to invite you over for dinner if I thought you were dull?”

“To be polite,” my face splits with a grin.

“You are the furthest from mundane, Joel. I promise you.” She rests her hand on my shoulder, electrifying me. “And how do you like your steak cooked?”

“Medium rare, but really I’m good with anything.”

Y/n tsks at me. “If the hard working man wants medium rare, then he’ll get medium rare,” she giggles. I’ll see you later, okay? I’m gonna start on dinner.”

“Thank you so much, y/n. Really.”

“Please, it’s the least I can do.”

My eyes follow her, admiring the dip in her back and the way her thighs rub together as she walks away, shaking my head in disbelief at her beauty once again, forcing myself to concentrate.

In the shower at home, my right hand grips my hard cock as the other rests against the wall, my wet fingertips digging into the slippery tile. My chest heaves as I pant, feeling so close already just from the memory of y/n in that goddamn bathing suit.

The swell of her ass, the curve of her waist, and the fullness of her breasts all haunt me in the best way. My eyes clamp tightly shut as I groan, wishing it was y/n’s cunt squeezing me instead of my own palm.

“Fuck,” I moan, my balls tightening as my orgasm reaches its pinnacle.

A choked groan catches in my throat, my head thrown back as I cry out into the shower ceiling above, shooting my release down towards the drain. I keep my hand wrapped around myself as I slump forward, feeling winded from the intense rush of euphoria.

I haven’t been affected by a woman this way since high school. Never in my adult life have I been so attracted to someone, that I needed to cum in the shower just to alleviate my pent up sexual frustration. I feel like y/n has put some witchy spell on me that has turned me into this unrecognizable, ravenous, depraved man.

When I’m back in my bedroom, I decide to dress casually, but still attempting to look decently nice. I toss on a gray t-shirt and dark blue jeans, doing my best to tame my hair just a bit. Grabbing my cologne, I spray a little bit onto my neck and chest, rubbing my hands along the fabric to press the mist into it.

Before I leave, I grab my swim trunks, hesitating on bringing a shirt. Will y/n think I’m weird if I wear one? I’m just hyper-aware of my body now that I know what her very recent ex looks like. He’s the type of guy who’s a personal trainer, and I’m the one who guys urge to go to the gym.

Deciding to not bring an extra shirt, I head out the door, knowing that Sarah is probably watching a movie at Mrs. Fredrick’s house next door. I feel a little guilty for dumping her there to be with y/n, but I know neither of them mind. It just makes me feel like a bad father.

As I park in the driveway at y/n’s house, I’m relieved to see that her front door and all the windows are closed. Hopefully that means the air stayed working after I left. I’m not sure why I feel nervous as I walk up to her house with my swim trunks gripped into my palm, but I can’t shake the feeling.

My knuckles gently rap against the metal door, y/n’s voice shouting out for me to come in. I push it open, instantly being greeted by the smell of food that makes my stomach roll over with agonizing hunger.

“It smells amazing,” I say as I approach the kitchen, seeing that she’s still in her two piece, making my neck tense.

“Oh, thank you,” she answers happily as she pulls something out of the oven. “You can have a seat, I’m just finishing up.”

Y/n wobbles a bit, my brows furrowing together. “Are you okay?”

“I may have had three glasses of wine while I cooked, but I promise I’m fine,” she giggles. “Let me get you a beer.”

She glides over to the table, setting a bottle down in front of me before she twists the top off, taking the cap with her. I gulp down over half of the bottle, hoping it’ll settle the nervousness that has made its way into my sternum.

Y/n easily makes her way beside me holding two plates, setting the one with a bigger steak in front of me. “Hope you’re hungry,” she says as she gazes down at me.

My eyes briefly flick down her body, then back down to my plate. “Starving.”

She perches on the chair next to me, smiling brightly before she begins to cut into her meat. “Did you bring your bathing suit?”

I nod, cutting into my ribeye to see a perfectly pink center. “I did,” I chuckle. “The steak looks perfect, by the way.”

Y/n sips at some water from a wine glass, bobbing her head as she swallows. “I told you that you’ll get what you asked for.”

“You followed through.”

Her arms gesture around. “And so did you. My house feels amazing, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I smile at her. “I don’t mean to pry, but are you going to be okay here? Like, will you genuinely be able to pay your rent?”

“Oh, yeah,” she nods. “Sam was just being a dick and saying I wouldn’t be able to, but I think I can. I might have to budget a little and stop drinking wine,” y/n laughs, “but I’ll be fine. Thank you, Joel.”

“Well, of course. I wouldn’t want you to be out of a place to live.”

Y/N’s eyes narrow playfully. “Would you have a way to fix that, too?”

I chuckle, shrugging. “I’d find a way.”

“Because you are Mr. Solution To Everything,” she laughs, flashing that impeccable smile. “Forgive me for being a bit tipsy, I got a call from my ex mother-in-law while you were gone.”

“Oh,” I shift, “what did she say?”

“Just that she’s glad we’re not together anymore, and that her Sammy deserved better than me from the start. She said I’m too young and immature for him. The worst part is, she wouldn’t even let me get a word in, so I couldn’t tell her what a fucking cunt she is.”

A shocked guffaw flies from my throat, my eyes widening. “You’re bold when you’ve been drinking.”

Y/n’s palm slaps against her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I keep forgetting that I’m your daughter’s teacher and I can’t just talk to you any way I want.” She places her hand on my arm. “Forgive me.”

“Please,” I scoff, “I don’t care how you talk to me, y/n. You could say anything and it wouldn’t make me think of you any differently.”

Her eyes are on mine, a smirk playing at her lips. “And how do you think of me?”

Is she flirting with me?

Doing my best to remain collected, I smile back at her, dabbing my mouth with a napkin. “Fondly.”

“Hm,” she giggles carelessly, drinking more of her water. “I’m glad my messy life hasn’t made you think that I’m also a mess.”

“No, not at all. I’m just happy I was able to comfort you when you needed it.”

Y/n wiggles in her chair, finishing up her steak before she pushes her plate away. “I have a surprise. It’s not a big deal, and I’m not even sure you’ll like it.”

My brows scoop up with interest. “Okay,” I smile, “show me.”

She leaves the table, walking to the fridge to retrieve a small tray, presenting it in front of me as she returns. In y/n’s hands on a plastic platter are a dozen vanilla cupcakes topped with strawberry icing, as well as a small berry placed in the center of each. They’re so ornate yet delicate and charming.

“My god, those are adorable,” my eyes meet hers. “And they look amazing. You really did too much for me, y/n. I mean it.”

She sets the dessert down on the table, taking her seat again. “I still feel like it isn’t enough. You saved me hundreds of dollars today just out of the kindness of your heart, and I’ve made you dinner and cupcakes.”

I laugh, reaching out my hand to rest it gently over hers. “And it’s all perfect and delicious. You don’t have to do anything else for me, I promise you. You didn’t even have to do anything, anyway. I wanted to help you.”

“Why are you so kind?”

My posture straightens as I blink at her, unsure of how to answer that question. How do I explain that I’d do anything for her because I find her so fucking perfect, without sounding like a lunatic? I’ve known her for three days, and I’d be more than willing to build her a brand new house with my own two hands. What in god’s name has this woman done to me? How has she made me feel such a vast array of emotions in only a few days?

“You’re easy to be kind to,” I finally respond, giving her a soft smile before I continue eating my delicious meal.

After dinner, I’m standing in the bathroom, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. My body isn’t at all where I’d like it to be physically, and I now feel suddenly incredibly panicked about going swimming with my shirt off. The muscle definition I used to have in my stomach is gone, and the lean physique I used to sport is starting to wane, as well. I wouldn’t classify myself as overweight, but definitely out of shape.

Sliding my shirt back on as I let out an uneasy sigh, I leave the bathroom, walking out the sliding glass door to see y/n with her feet in the pool and the tray of cupcakes beside her.

I chuckle as I sit onto the rough lip of the pool, plunging my feet into the warm water. “Cupcakes and swimming?”

She turns to me as she nods. “That whole thing about getting a stomach ache if you swim after eating is a myth, you know.”

“I’m a dad, of course I know,” I laugh, picking up one of the desserts.

My fingers carefully peel the paper back, opening it just enough for my mouth to sink into the soft treat. The strawberry icing bursts in my mouth, being offset by the delectable, mellow, vanilla cake beneath it.

“God,” I groan, “you’re so good at baking, y/n. These are amazing.”

Her eyes are on me as she gives me a small smile. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure what kind you’d like. You seem like more of a chocolate kind of guy,” she giggles.

“When it comes to desserts, I’m not picky.”

She nods, still gazing at me. “That’s good to know.”

I bite into the fresh strawberry at the top, discarding the leafy bits onto the tray along with my empty cupcake wrapper. “Thank you,” I say as I swallow.

Y/n laughs as she looks at me, leaning forward to wipe the tip of my nose with her thumb. “You have frosting on your nose,” she giggles.

She places the pad of her thumb into her mouth, sucking the freshly removed frosting off as she keeps her eyes on me. That arousal she gives me returns, making me shift where I sit, and this time, I don’t have something as restricting as jeans and briefs, only swim trunks.

“I’m gonna get in,” I say quickly, standing to walk to the stairs in the shallow end.

“Are you going to wear your shirt?” she asks with her head cocked.

“Oh, um—” my voice trails off, my eyes adverted away from her gaze, “I’m just more comfortable with it on, I think.”

“Hey, that’s okay,” she says softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.”

“No,” I laugh, standing near the stairs still, “I guess I’ve just grown to not really enjoy my dad bod.”

Why am I always so painfully vulnerable with her?

Y/n is standing up, the water splashing slightly as she removes her feet from the pool. She walks towards me, giving me a small smile before getting into the water in front of me.

“I wouldn’t judge you, Joel, but please do what makes you the most comfortable.”

Letting out a determined sigh, I slide off my shirt, tossing it aside as I step into the ridiculously warm and inviting water. Y/n walks over to the cupcakes that sit at the edge, gesturing for me to join her and grab another one.

Once I’m beside her, we stay quiet as our eyes are locked, each of us taking a bite of our cupcakes. With a small laugh, I wipe the frosting that has now gotten onto her nose. Setting my dessert to the side, I suck the frosting off my thumb just as she did, seeing if she really has been flirting with me this whole time.

Y/n smirks, taking another bite of her treat as she leaves a bit of the icing at the corner of her mouth. I go to remove it with my finger, but she moves her head away, shaking it.

With just the darkened look in her eyes alone, I know exactly the game she’s playing at. I lean in to her, keeping my breathing even as I swipe my tongue slowly up the corner of her lips. My body feels ignited from my bold move, and her devilish chuckle assures me that that was precisely what she wanted me to do.

I’m suddenly tossing every worry, moral, and negative thought out the window as I eagerly take her lips against mine. Her wet, bikini covered breasts press against my bare chest, her fingers dancing into my hair as I slide my tongue along hers.

I could easily be dreaming right now, and just have a painfully hard dick when I wake up. But I’m not. This is fucking real.

Y/n wraps her legs around my waist, allowing me to hold her beneath the water as my hands drift down to the perfect ass I haven’t been able to get my eyes off of.

“Joel,” she breathes as she pulls away, my lips trailing down her soft, spacious throat. “You’re so hot. I want you so bad.”

“Shh,” I coo, nipping at her flesh, “just enjoy this.”

My mouth finds hers once again, her hands running down my torso to where I’m fully hard for her. I can’t help but let out a small groan at the feeling of her palm against me, my hips involuntarily thrusting up into it.

“I need you,” y/n whines softly. “Please.”

I chuckle, swiping my tongue up her ear before taking the lobe between my teeth. “What do you need me for, hm? Tell me, angel, what is it?”

Her chest heaves against mine, her hand still rubbing against me through my swim trucks. “Everything. I need you for everything.”

My hands move around to the front of her swim suit, lifting the top off to reveal the breasts that I’ve been so desperate to see; to have my mouth on. I carry her over to the steps, setting her down on a higher one as I close my lips around one of her nipples.

She yelps, fisting at the hair on the back of my head. I pull the pearled center between my teeth, gazing up at her to see her hazy eyes meeting mine. I do the same to the other one, my fingers keeping the nipple I just left company by pinching it gently.

“This fucking bathing suit has been driving me crazy all goddamn day,” I rasp, dragging my tongue up her chest to her neck. “You’ve been just begging me to fuck you, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” she answers quietly. “Yes, please. It’s all I want.”

“My god, me too. Thought about that pretty little cunt in the shower before I got here,” I admit, dropping my hand down below the water line to rub her through her bottoms.

Y/n’s head falls back, her body a writhing, panting, half-naked, fucked out mess and I haven’t even been inside of her.

“Did you want me when you first saw me?” I ask as I continue to circle her clit through the fabric.

“Yes!” she cries. “You’re so fucking hot, Joel. I’ve wanted you since I met you at the park.”

Her words fuel the already raging fire within my stomach, wanting desperately to be buried inside of her right now. “Good. I want to keep you this desperate for me.” My fingers stop, bringing them up to adjust her bikini top back onto her reddened breasts.

“What? No, no, no. Please!” y/n begs, gripping at my wrists. “Why are you stopping? Please don’t stop.”

I chuckle, leaning in to kiss her firmly with a quick swipe of my tongue. “A few reasons,” I say between kisses. “One, you’re a bit tipsy and two, don’t you have that appointment to get checked out tomorrow? I don’t think you have anything, but it would be nice to know, wouldn’t it?”

Her brows are furrowed with desperation as she hangs her head. “Oh, my god, Joel. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about that.”

“Hey,” I say gently as I pick her chin up to meet my gaze, “don’t apologize, sweet girl. It’s easy to get caught up in the moment.”

“And I’m not too tipsy. The alcohol just helped me make that little jump towards you,” she says with reddened lips and cheeks.

My mouth presses against hers again, savoring the cupcake flavor on her sweet tongue. “I’m glad you did. I just would rather go further when we’re both completely ourselves.” I inwardly kick myself. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” she beams as she cups my face in her hands, “not at all. You’re an amazing, sweet man, Joel. And oh my god, you’re hot as fuck.”

I laugh loudly, gently running my nose along hers. “Yeah? I’ve thought that exact same thing about you since I met you.”

Her eyes run down my body. “And you have such a great body. I really don’t see what you do, but I understand the way you feel.”

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” I chuckle. “I guess I was just comparing myself to Sam and felt—inadequate.”

Y/n rolls her eyes as she scoffs. “Oh, fuck Sam. He was the first guy I was ever with that looked like that, and I promise you that isn’t what first attracted me to him.”

“Really? What was?”

“He was kind and he made me laugh, the looks were just a bonus.”

I chuckle. “And what attracted you to me?”

Y/n hums with a warm grin, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Everything.”

On the short drive home, I have a ridiculous smile that hasn’t removed itself from my face since I left y/n’s. Every single moment about tonight was perfect; from the food, the dessert, the pool, her lips, her body, the way she whined for me, and the compliments she gave me. I couldn’t have made a better night up in my head.

After getting an exhausted Sarah from the neighbor’s house, I tuck her in to bed, planting a kiss onto her forehead before leaving and returning to my bedroom. There’s a text on my phone from y/n, and I open it immediately.

Y/n

10:00pm

Thank you for coming over for dinner, and for stopping what I never could’ve. I’d feel horrible if I gave you something just because Sam is a piece of shit and I can’t control my body around you.

10:10pm

I’m glad you can’t control it around me. Let me control it for you. You’ll find out tomorrow whether or not you have something, so try not to worry. I really think you’ll be fine, but it would just be safer this way. Thanks to you, I have to go stock up on condoms for the first time since college.

Y/n

10:12pm

Joel, are you telling me that you haven’t had sex since your wife passed away?

10:13pm

Is that a turn off for you?

Y/n

10:15pm

Oh, my god, no! I just hope I fulfill your nine year dry spell, is all. That’s a lot of pressure lol. Also, maybe if I don’t have anything, we could go without the condoms? I’m on birth control.

My neck tenses as I imagine feeling y/n in all of her natural glory. A twitch runs to my cock, making my stomach twist with arousal.

10:16pm

Absolutely no pressure. I can already tell that you’re gonna be a lot of fun. And yeah, that’s more than fine with me. Guess the condoms will live to see another day lol.

Y/n

10:20pm

Lol, goofball. Good night, Joel.

10:21pm

Good night, y/n.

****

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #yn fanfic #smut #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #tlou smut #tlou fic

29 notes · View notes

arielhopepeace · 1 year

Text

Part Two

18+ only

Tw: mention of cancer, death, grief, cheating, panic attacks, angst, depression

5,790 words

Y/n

You hear the blaring of your alarm, your eyebrows furrowing with pure ire and disgust as you roll onto your side, smacking your phone screen to cease the incessant noise.

Sam's hand wraps around your midsection, his nose burrowing into your hair as he breathes you in. You want to enjoy his touch, and the way he caresses you in the morning, but you can't. Things with him have been so rough lately, that you're numb to all of the tender moments.

"Sam," you say with a groggy raspiness, "c'mon, I've gotta get ready for work."

His lips trail along the side of your neck, his erection pressing into your lower back. "You don't have time for me?"

You shake your head, freeing yourself from his embrace as you leave the room. You feel guilty for always brushing off sex with him lately, but you simply can't get past the hurtful things he's said during your arguments. He's told you that he wishes he never proposed, and that he wants to be with someone more mature who actually wants to get married.

It's not that you don't want to be married, it's that he proposed the day after you graduated college, and expected you to drop everything you just spent years working for, simply to plan a wedding. He knows how important being a teacher is to you, yet he's somehow managed to make it about himself as he always seems to do.

In the bathroom, you pull your hair back, seeing Sam's reflection walking in behind you.

"Are you even happy anymore?" he asks quietly, leaning against the open door.

You prep your makeup in front of you, not daring to meet his saddened eyes. "I'd really like to not do this right now, Sam. This is only my second day of teaching, and I don't want to go in depressed."

"So, your job matters more than us?"

You shake your head. "Unbelievable."

"What? What if I chose my career over you? You'd be fucking pissed."

"I'm not choosing anything over you!" you shout. "You know how passionate I am about being a teacher. I can't just stop when I've only just begun. You expect me to take time off to plan a wedding, have it, and go on a honeymoon? I literally just started! These kids want a teacher, not a substitute."

"You always have some sort of excuse as to why you don't want to marry me!" he yells back. "I'm fucking tired of it."

You begin to dab makeup onto your face, still only focusing on what you need to get done. "They aren't excuses, Sam. They're things you should've already known. Why is it such a problem if I want to wait a bit?"

"Because I'm already thirty-eight, for fuck's sake. You expect me to just keep waiting around? You want me to be an old man by the time we have kids?"

"My dad was fifty-two when I was born."

"Yeah and he died before you were even twenty-four years old," he spits.

You swallow, dropping your fluffy makeup sponge onto the counter to turn and look to your fiancé with an incredulous expression. "Wow," you begin, "you really are just a fucking asshole, aren't you?" Shaking your head, you look down, sliding your engagement ring off of your finger and handing it to Sam. "I won't marry somebody who uses my dad's death against me."

His eyes widen as he shakes his head. "No, I didn't mean it—"

"You meant exactly what you said," you say flatly. "I'm done."

"Please, y/n. Don't do this."

You turn, facing your back to him as you resume your makeup application. "Get out."

Sam storms out of the bathroom, the sound of car keys jingling as he opens the front door, slamming it so hard behind him that your bathroom mirror shakes. Normally, this angry behavior of his would leave you a crumbling, sobbing mess, chasing after him to prevent him from leaving. But not anymore. Not after everything, and especially not after what he just said about your beloved father.

The only reason tears threaten your bottom lids right now, is because you miss your parents. You miss your dad, and feel like he only passed away just yesterday, that pain still feeling so recent in your chest. You grip onto the counter as you squeeze your eyes shut, desperately trying to calm your dramatically racing heart that is sending you into an emotional downward spiral.

You wish there was a cure for grief and panic, two things you've suffered with nearly every day since your mom died, but all you can do is suffocate in your own sorrow. There were nights when you'd dream of your mom, waking up in a fit of terror and sweat, and Sam would lull you back to sleep. But that was before everything went wrong, and you stopped feeling that die-for-him love you once had.

Sam really was a good guy, and never gave you any reason to doubt that he was the one for you, until he proposed. For some reason, he had become a completely different person, and it's been nothing but nonstop fighting for the last year. You wish he would've just given you the time to adjust to being a teacher before pushing marriage onto you, but as you've come to realize, he's really only concerned about himself.

***

Once it's lunchtime, the announcement is made over the speaker, the principal's voice echoing throughout the classroom. The conversation you and Sam had this morning has haunted you all day, the ghost of your ring on your finger causing you to fidget with an imaginary band.

"Okay, let's see a single file line!" you say happily as the students line up at the door. "Did everybody who has a lunchbox grab it from their cubby?"

A few students briefly leave the line, returning with their decked-out lunchboxes. You can't help but giggle at their innocent forgetfulness, adoring every single one of them, even the misbehaved ones.

You stand at the front, giving the students a wide smile as you lead them out of the classroom, the caboose of the line holding the door open for everybody.

"Everyone make sure to say thank you to Derek for doing such a lovely job holding the door," you announce cheerfully.

A resounding 'thank you' comes from the line, making you giggle as you continue the walk to the lunchroom. It is a noisy, bustling mess in here as usual, but you lead your class to their tables nonetheless. Everyone sits in a seat, taking up every spot at the two tables reserved for your class.

Off to the side of the room, there's parents all sitting at their own tables, some with their kids, and some still waiting on theirs to arrive.

"Daddy!" you hear one of your students shout, seeing Sarah sprinting out of her seat to run towards her father who stands out of view to your right.

You watch as Joel chuckles, getting down onto his knees to wrap up his daughter into a tight embrace. You swallow nervously at his presence, being just as intimidated by him this time as you were when you first met him on Saturday.

His attractive looks instantly caught your eye at the park; the way his brown hair was a charming, shaggy, ruffled mess on top of his head, and his soft puppy dog eyes that are vast and brown, drawing you in with just a single look.

You've always had a thing for older men, being turned on by their maturity and experience in life. You know that you've been heavily influenced by seeing your parents so in love regardless of being many years apart. Younger guys have just never done it for you. Sure, there's been a few that have exceeded your expectations, but never for long. They've always ended up showing that they're not emotionally ready for a serious commitment, something you desperately long for at the right moment in life.

Even though Sam is more than ten years older than you, he still has displayed his immaturity about your dedication to your job; and also his sick need to throw your father's death in your face as an insult.

"Okay, I'll see you all after lunch," you say to your class, doing your best to ignore the alluring, handsome man who walks with his daughter to one of the parent tables.

As you push open the exit door of the cafeteria, you're stopped by the sound of your name being called behind you. You already know whose voice it is before you turn, seeing the rugged, tanned face of Joel.

"Hi," you say fondly. "It's nice to see you again."

He flashes that charming grin at you that turns your body into jello. "You too," Joel replies gently. "I felt really bad for not bringing you something on Saturday, so I got you a little gift." He hands you a decently small, wrapped box. "It isn't much, but I thought you might like it."

"Oh, Joel," your eyes soften as you take the gift from him, "you didn't have to do that for me."

Joel shrugs nonchalantly, his plaid-covered shoulders falling easily. "You've already made such an impact on Sarah. It's the least I could do."

You tuck the present into the pocket of your yellow cardigan, giving Joel a genuine, wide smile. "Thank you so much. You're very sweet."

He chuckles, nodding his head. "You're welcome." He turns around briefly, "Well, enjoy your lunch. I'm gonna go back to Sarah."

"Thank you. Enjoy yours, too."

Joel gives you a small wave before he turns, your eyes following him for a short while before you realize you're gazing, admiring his tall frame and the casual sway of his hips. You turn and head back to your classroom, enjoying the peaceful quietness of the room, but also missing the boisterous students.

You lean down beneath your desk to retrieve your lunchbox, pulling out your pathetically prepared sandwich and chips that you hurriedly threw together. You hate to admit that your panic attack this morning caused you to run a bit behind in your schedule, but it's not the first time that's happened.

The gift that Joel gave you is practically burning a hole into your pocket. You retrieve the box, placing it in front of you as you decide to open it. You've never been great at waiting to open gifts. It's always one of the first things you want to do on your birthday. You're not a materialistic person by any means, you just enjoy the thought and excitement that goes into presents.

Your fingers peel at the pristine silver paper, being displayed a singular black box with perfectly angular edges that you run the tip of your finger along. The box flips open on a hinge, an audible gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes fill with raw emotion.

Inside of the box is a single silver chain necklace, and on the end of it is a metal ribbon-shaped, teal colored charm. The ribbon and color represent ovarian cancer awareness, the same illness your mom passed away from. You can't believe Joel went through the effort to get this, let alone remembered the specific cancer you said your mother died from.

Not only did he have to have the thought of getting something meaningful, but he also probably had to look up what color ribbon stood for that specific cancer. Words can't explain how you're feeling in this moment. Tears are heavily flowing down your cheeks as you continue to gaze at the gift, not knowing how you can ever thank him enough for it.

You want to run full force back to the cafeteria and wrap him up into the biggest embrace you've ever given someone, but you're a blubbering mess. You're honestly worried that you won't be able to pull yourself together before lunch is over.

With shaky fingers, you remove the necklace from its box, clasping it on around your neck to let it hang at the top of your chest. You place your hand over it, shaking your head in disbelief as you sob more. Every single gift that you've received from your students have been so kind and thoughtful, but this one has completely stolen your heart.

Once all of the kids have been dismissed to go home, you dive into your desk, searching for Sarah's file to retrieve her emergency contact paper. On it, you find a cell phone number with the name Joel Miller beside it. Your thumbs quickly type it into your phone, hesitating as you hover over the call button. Is it weird if you call one of your student's parents personally to thank them for a gift? Or are you throwing all of your morals out of the window because you find him incredibly hot and even romantic?

Letting out an unsteady sigh, you push the 'call' button on your screen, your pulse climbing in time with the trilling of the other line.

"Hello?" Joel answers curiously.

"Hi, Joel. I'm sorry for calling so randomly. This is y/n, Sarah's teacher."

"Oh," his voice lightens. "Hi, how are you? Is everything okay?"

Emotion chokes you, spreading like poison Ivy around your words as you attempt to speak. "Yes," your voice wavers. "I was just calling to say thank you for the necklace. I—" a cry catches in your throat, "I can't believe you got this for me."

"Hey," he says gently. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset."

"No," you shake your head. "I'm happy. It was just so thoughtful, and I appreciate it so much. I don't know how I could ever thank you enough."

"You don't have to thank me." His voice is so soft and comforting that it feels as if he's hugging you through the phone. "I just was hoping it was the right color. I wasn't sure which one it was."

You knew he looked it up. Does he not realize how amazing he is for this?

"It's perfect," you sniffle. "Please, let me treat you to a drink or something tonight to say thank you."

The line is quiet for a moment, and you're wondering if you've fucked up by saying that. Have you made him uncomfortable?

"Okay," he replies. "I can have my neighbor keep an eye on Sarah for me. She's the one who watches her when I work on Saturdays if Sarah isn't spending the night at a friend's."

You breathe out a sigh of relief at his response. "Do you know the bar on Weston Street? It's called The Goose."

"Yeah," he chuckles slightly. "Used to go there during college."

"Hey, me too!" you laugh. "Had a lot of horrible blackouts there."

"You and me both," he laughs again. "What time were you thinking?"

"Whenever is best for you, really."

"Is seven good?"

"Seven is perfect. Thank you again, Joel." You wipe your wet cheeks.

"You're thanking me too much," he teases. "I'm really glad you like it, though. I wasn't sure what to get."

"It's amazing." You look around your classroom, examining the empty desks. "I'll see you at seven, then."

"Yes," he says easily. "See you later, y/n."

"Bye." You both hang up, a giddy feeling suddenly zipping through your body.

Part of you is hoping that Sam isn't home by the time you leave, since he wasn't back this morning. This isn't the first time that he's left after a fight and not come back for an entire day. You stopped wondering where he goes, because truthfully at this point, you don't care.

You've already given him your ring and told him exactly how you feel about your relationship. It wouldn't be heartbreaking if you didn't see him again. What he said about your father was spiteful and unforgivable. It was the final straw that you were grasping onto for him, and he cut it down with the sharpest blade.

Much later around six, Sam still hasn't come home as you've stepped out of your hot, relaxing shower. Due to the fact that you're happier without him here, just proves that you're not meant to be with him. You've had your wavering doubts throughout the day that you made a mistake, and you found yourself lingering on the happy moments. But you know that's foolish of you. How can someone claim they love you, yet not support you in your career, and also throw your dad's death in your face? That's not love. It feels more like ownership to you.

As you dry your hair, the wind from the blow dryer is so deafening, that you don't hear Sam come into the bathroom. He's standing there awkwardly as you open your eyes, letting out a high-pitched scream as you jump, dropping the hair dryer directly onto your foot.

"Oh, fuck!" you scream, leaning down to turn the device off. "What the fuck are you doing sneaking in like that? You scared the shit out of me!"

Sam lets out a small laugh that you decide to ignore. "Sorry, y/n. Can we talk?"

You walk into your bedroom to sit on the bed, examining your bruised foot as you let out an exasperated sigh. "I have to get ready. I'm meeting a parent."

"I'll make it quick," Sam says gently. "It's just something I feel like I need to get off my chest."

"Fine," you answer flatly as you cross your arms. "Tell me."

"I think it's best if we aren't together anymore. Being with you has let out this ugly side of me that I don't like. You've made me a meaner, more aggressive person and I can't be that way anymore."

You can't help but laugh, nodding your head as you continue to listen to his complete bullshit. "Okay."

"I've slept with someone else."

Your laughter ceases as a feeling of nausea rises up your throat. "What?"

"A few months ago, we fought and I left to go get drunk. There was this woman who was so comforting and understanding. One thing led to another and we ended up at her place together. I'm sorry, y/n."

All you can do is stare at him, not sure if you're more sickened or furious. You've slept with Sam in the last few months, meaning that he had that woman all over him, and still felt it was okay to share an intimate moment with you.

"Did you wear a condom?" you finally ask.

Sam shifts, his eyes not meeting yours, his body language giving you the only answer you really need.

"Oh, my god," you stand. "You're even more vile than I thought. You fucked some random woman without a condom, and still thought it was fine to sleep with me too?"

He stays quiet, still unable to make eye contact.

"How soon after did you sleep with me?" your voice is steady and even, surprising you.

"I don't want to say," he says lowly.

"How soon after?!" you finally yell.

Sam sighs. "The next night."

"Oh, my fucking god. You are the most disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man."

"You've pushed me to this!" Sam yells. "You've made me this way!"

"Own up to your own fucking actions, Sam! Stop blaming me for your poor decisions! Be a fucking grown up!"

He laughs incredulously. "Why don't you?! You can't admit the fact that you have serious commitment issues and can't be an adult about it."

"Commitment issues?!" you scream. "All I've ever wanted is to be married, but I'll be fucking damned before I marry someone like you. Oh, my GOD, I'm so glad I haven't started planning a wedding."

"Yeah, me fucking too, y/n."

Your eyes narrow at the man you once loved, realizing that he doesn't have a smidge of remorse in his body for what he's done or said. "I want you to leave the house."

"You can't kick me out, y/n. My name is on the lease, too. You think you can afford the rent alone on a teacher's salary?" he asks with a mocking tone.

"I don't give a shit!" you yell. "Just get out! Go stay with somebody who actually wants to fuck you."

Sam scoffs, shaking his head at he leaves the room. "Oh, fuck you, y/n. Fuck you." The front door slams behind him once again, a nauseating reminder of this morning.

You can't believe everything he just told you; from the blaming his behavior on you, to the infidelity. Knowing that he slept with someone else and then immediately was intimate with you makes you feel like you desperately need to make an appointment to get checked out. You haven't felt any different or had any odd growths, but now you're paranoid beyond belief.

How could he do that to you? How the hell could he be so selfish? Your mind is reeling, pacing around your bedroom as the thought of having an STD consumes every part of you. You do your best to relax, but truthfully you're terrified to your very core.

Pacing into the bathroom, you grab your phone, pressing onto Joel's contact as your breathing is ragged and unsteady.

"Hey," his husky voice answers.

"Joel," you push out. "I'm sorry, I don't think I'm gonna make it tonight."

"Is everything okay?"

The sincerity in his tone causes you to crumble, letting out a guttural sob that makes you sound like a complete lunatic. You can't even answer him, all you can do is cry. Your anxiety is only climbing as the seconds pass, that all-consuming dread washing over you as you sink to the bedroom floor.

"Y/n, talk to me. Do I need to come to you? What's going on?"

"It's just—" You can't make out a coherent sentence, crying ceaselessly into your phone. "I'm sorry," you sob.

"Hey, take a deep breath for me. Can you do that?"

Air fills your lungs in choppy breaths as you try to settle the intensity of your outpour of emotions. You are finally able to suck in a small breath, holding it a bit before letting it out slowly.

"Good," he says lightly. "Do it again."

With your eyes closed, you breathe in the air around you, smelling the scent of your body wash from your freshly scrubbed skin. As you let out the steady breath, you realize Joel is breathing with you through the phone.

"One more time for me, y/n," Joel guides you gently.

An easy breath expands your lungs, the fullness of it being released through your parted lips.

"Good," he praises you quietly. "Now, can you please tell me your address?"

You say it to him lowly, a slight drowsiness overtaking you from the meditative breathing. "You don't have to come over if you don't want to, Joel. I'm so sorry for calling you, I just—" you pause, feeling your tears building again, "I didn't know who else to call."

"I want to come over," Joel replies with an easy, smooth voice. "I'll be there in five minutes. You live ridiculously close to me."

You can't help but giggle. "Okay."

"Do you want to stay on the phone with me? I can just set you down so I don't lose you to the Bluetooth."

Your fingers grip at your phone, knowing your panic will return if he hangs up. "No, it's okay. Just drive safely."

"I'm perfectly capable of talking and driving, y/n," he says with an audible smile in his words. "I have a very talkative nine year old as my shotgun most days."

You laugh slightly, holding your towel-covered body with your free hand. "She was so happy to see you at lunch today."

"Well, she was just telling me how bummed she was that I'm never one of the parents at lunch, so I decided to ask my boss if I could just have the day off to spend time with Sarah. He didn't mind. I almost never take off of work."

"You're a good dad," you respond softly.

"I do my best."

Your eyes look around the room, your panic having crippled you so much that you feel glued to the spot against the wall where you sit in your plush towel. "I can't move."

"Why?" he asks with concern. "Did Sam hurt you?"

"Not physically," you scoff. "Just kinda panicked and now I'm frozen."

Joel sighs. "Unfortunately, I know the feeling." The phone is quiet for a few seconds. "I lied to you at the park. I wasn't light headed from not eating, I was having a panic attack."

Your brows furrow together with sympathy. "Oh, my god. Why? I'm so sorry. I should've known."

"Just the mention of cancer made me think about my late wife, is all. Sometimes I get panicked thinking about her."

"I'm sorry," you apologize again. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

"You didn't," he chuckles lightly. "You made me feel understood."

A smile spreads onto your face, the sound of a truck muffler rumbling through your ears.

"I'm here," Joel says slowly, "but if you need a minute before you can stand, don't worry. I can wait."

"No," you reply, doing your best to find your feet well enough to lift yourself off the floor. "Just let me put on some clothes. I just got out of the shower."

"Take your time, y/n. I'm not in a rush. Sarah is over at my neighbor's house. She'll fall asleep there if I take long enough. Neither of them mind, I promise. She's fallen asleep there so many times."

You trudge to your closet, your feet feeling like lead as you walk across the carpet. You pull out a large shirt, tossing it over your head as you set your phone on the floor beneath you. Your fingers grab at a pair of shorts, slipping them on beneath your top.

"Okay, I'm coming," you finally say. "I'll see you in a few seconds."

"Okay."

The call ends as you carry yourself to the front door, pulling it open to see Joel standing there with shaggy, dampened hair and beautiful brown eyes that are filled with concern. He looks way better than you, wearing a lovely short sleeved button-up shirt and blue jeans. You want to devour him, but you also want him to hold you and tell you everything is okay.

"Hey," he says gently as you invite him in. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

You nod lazily, gesturing over to the couch as you shut your front door. "Well, this morning I gave my ring back to Sam since he used my dad's death as an insult against me." You join Joel on the couch, your body facing his as you talk. "He also blamed me for his horrible, shitty behavior which is ridiculous," you pause. "Then he told me we're better off separated, and explained how he cheated on me a few months ago."

Joel's jaw drops, his eyes widening. "Jesus, y/n. I'm so sorry. What the hell?"

"Not only did he have unprotected sex with her, but then immediately had unprotected sex with me the next day. I've been so freaked out since he left. I'm so scared that I have something now."

He furrows his brows as he shakes his head. "If you had something, you'd know by now. But you should still make an appointment, just to be safe."

"First thing tomorrow, I'm calling," you roll your eyes as you throw your head into your hands. "Everything just went to shit so fast."

Joel's hand reaches out and tenderly rubs your upper back, the contact heightening your senses to a fine point. "I'm sorry, y/n. Where is he now?"

You keep your crying face cradled into your palms. "Who knows? There's a million people he can stay with. I'm gonna change the locks, too. I told him not to come back."

He lets out a sigh, his hand still soothing you in gentle circles. "I could do it for you. I know how."

"Really?" you gaze up at him. "You'd do that for me?"

Joel shrugs as he grins down at you. "Of course."

You can't take it anymore, you need the comfort of someone's body against yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, pressing your chest against his as your cheek rests against his shoulder.

"Thank you," you whisper, the emotion of the situation catching up to you once again.

His hands run down to the small of your back, his strong arms wrapped around your body as the two of you sit there in a tight embrace. You wish you could stay here forever, enjoying this closeness and the smell of his cologne. It's a comfort you haven't experienced in far too long, and now you're drowning in it, letting it swallow you whole.

"This isn't weird, right?" you suddenly ask, the hug finally ending.

Joel chuckles, shaking his head, "No."

Your eyes are on his lips, watching as he quickly darts his tongue out to lick them. "I'm glad you came over."

His hands are still on your back, as your arms are resting on his neck, your bodies still near each other's. "I am, too."

It takes everything in you to not lean in and kiss him, but you know now isn't the time. You've just found out your fiancé cheated on you, and you're desperate for a connection in this moment of heartbreak. Even though you find Joel ridiculously attractive, you wouldn't want to use him for that kind of comfort. He's a thoughtful, incredible man who deserves better than that.

You clear your throat, the loose embrace ending as you turn your body away. "Would you like a drink?" you ask as you stand off the couch. "Since we didn't get to go to a bar tonight."

Joel chuckles as he follows you to your kitchen. "What do you have?"

The fridge opens with a gentle pull, your hand reaching down into it to retrieve a bottle of beer. "Are you a beer man exactly as you are a meat man?" you ask with a smirk.

He laughs, nodding his head. "I am."

"I guess you're just very predictable," you tease, grabbing out your bottle of wine. "I'm a wine drinker."

He twists the top off of the beer bottle, tossing it back to take a few sips. "You drinking wine is very predictable, I'm afraid."

You giggle, chugging directly from the bottle after you pop the cork out. "Oh, yeah? What other assumptions have you made about me?"

Joel eyes you, making you feel bashful beneath his gaze. "I'm going to assume you're still wearing the necklace I got you."

You nod as you pull it out from inside of your t-shirt, letting it lay flat against the fabric. "I'm never taking it off."

"I'm glad," he beams. "I'm also gonna assume that you're a kind woman, and you deserve more than what you're getting."

"I don't know what I deserve, Joel."

He shrugs as he sips more beer, swallowing before he replies, "Happiness."

"I haven't had that in a long time."

Joel scoffs, nodding. "Neither have I."

You feel drawn to him in this moment, wanting to feel his warm, firm body pressed to yours again. Your lips are eager to feel his, wondering if he would have as much fervor as you feel for him. You're desperate for his touch, and you need to know what he's feeling for you. Is he simply just a nice guy, or can he feel the connection as you do?

"Joel," you begin softly, "I'm going to be honest with you."

"You can always be honest with me," he smiles gently at you.

"I think you're an incredible man. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable because you're my student's father, but I just find you so—," your voice trails off, unable to think of a better adjective than perfect.

"Hopefully the end of that sentence is good," he chuckles, making you laugh as well.

"You're just great," you finally say, not at all getting as detailed as you would've liked. "And I appreciate you for being here for me even when you barely know me."

"I know that you're my daughter's teacher, and that you share a lot of the same hurt I do." His eyes flick between yours, "I had never talked about my wife to anybody besides family until you. I'm not sure why, but you just made me feel comfortable with being vulnerable."

Your eyes soften, tears beginning to form in them. "Oh, Joel," you say quietly.

That magnetic pull to him has only intensified, and it takes all of the strength you can muster to keep your feet planted on your side of the counter. You just want to throw yourself at him, but you can't for so many reasons.

"Anyway," he shakes his head with a bashful chuckle, "I was thinking I could come by tomorrow after work to change your locks. How many do you need?"

The subject change makes you swallow with relief, wanting to focus on anything other than how badly you crave his lips.

"Just two. Only need to change the front door and the side door. The sliding glass door doesn't take a key."

Joel nods. "I'll pick some stuff up. I could be here around six-thirty or so. Is that okay for you?"

"Yes, of course. Thank you so much."

He smiles warmly, setting down his empty beer bottle as his eyes flick to his watch. "Will you be okay if I leave?"

The fear that you've made him feel uneasy settles into your abdomen, regretting ever telling him how amazing you think he is.

"Of course," you nod, walking around the counter. "I'll be fine."

Joel strides to the front door with you, pulling it open as his eyes flick down to meet yours. "Don't hesitate to text or call if you need me, okay?"

"Thank you," you smile. "But really, I'll be okay."

You watch as Joel walks out of your house, wishing that he was wrapped up in your arms once again with his lips being gently pressed onto yours. The thought sends a slight twinge of arousal between your thighs, knowing that you have to be completely fucked in the head to even be considering those thoughts.

He's your student's dad. You can never pursue him.

****

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #smut #yn fanfic #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou smut

22 notes · View notes

arielhopepeace · 1 year

Text

Welcome to another Joel and y/n fic. One of these times I’d like to write one that has the breakout, because zombies have always really freaked me out lol.

Anyway, in this fic, Sarah is 9, and y/n is her 4th grade teacher. Obviously it gets GOOOOOOD later on hehe. This fic was an idea recommended by @viclgrd ❤️

As always, pleaaaase enjoy.

Part two is here

Part three is here

Part four is here

Final part is here

Part One

18+ only

Tw: mention of cancer, mention of death, panic attacks, anxiety

4,770 words

Joel POV

"Sarah, come on!" I urge my very stubborn nine year old daughter.

There's nothing I love more in this world than her. She's a spitting image of my late wife, and she was honestly an easy, laid-back baby with a surprisingly calm toddler stage. Getting her to school is the only real issue I've faced with her.

Sarah loves to sleep. I've taken her to pediatricians with my concerns on why she loves to be in bed so much, but they assured me it's only due to her enjoyment of it, and the fact that she's constantly growing, making her more fatigued. Waking her up every morning before I have to go to work is difficult, and rather taxing. Luckily, I'm able to leave right after I walk her to her bus stop, always making it to work in the nick of time.

I'd like to say that I'm a good father to Sarah. My wife passed away when our daughter was only one, so Sarah doesn't have any memory of her. I've always wondered if that made it easier, never knowing her, but I've always been too terrified to ask how she feels. She's still so young that I don't want to fill her head with dark and agonizing subjects.

Of course I'll talk about her mother if she asks and explain that she passed away from cancer, but I never linger on her death with Sarah. I always do my best to turn it into a beautiful, light thing, hoping that she never develops that crippling anxiety in her sternum as I have.

"Daddy, why can't you ever take me to school?" Sarah whines as she holds my hand, both of us leaving the house.

"Because," I begin as I peer down at her, "I have to work, baby."

Her eyes twinkle up at me with their hazel hue, my lips twitching up as I admire her, completely enamored with my little girl.

"So many other kids at school have their parents visit them for lunch. Can you visit me one day?" her gaze becomes teary.

I crouch down once we're at our stop sign, giving her a kiss between her brows. "Hey," I say softly, "don't cry. I'll ask when I go in today if I can have lunch with you sometime soon, okay?"

Sarah nods with excitement, wrapping her little arms around my neck. "Thank you."

Her gentle embrace and the softness of her solemn voice tugs at my heart, making me want to just quit my job so I can stay here to hug her all day.

The bus pulls up, hissing to a stop as the doors sigh, opening with a slight squeak.

"Have a good day, baby," I kiss my fingertips, waving her off as she steps onto her bus, her head scarcely turning to give me a mildly forlorn smile.

Working in construction as I do, I'm never able to take my lunch at Sarah's school. Not only are our lunches at different times, but my jobs are usually over a half an hour away or more. It's a demanding and grueling occupation, but it pays well and allows us to live comfortably; not living paycheck-to-paycheck as we used to.

When my wife passed, I was utterly, wholly gutted. Within a month of us finding out she had cancer, she was gone. It was dreadful knowing she was in pain, knowing there was nothing I could do to help her, and watching her rapidly decline until she drew in her last weak, delicate breath on this earth.

I promised her I'd take care of Sarah, and raise her to be as incredible as she was. Every single fiber in me prays that I'm doing everything exactly as she would've wanted it.

Being alone for the last eight years hasn't been difficult for me by any means. I've gone on a few dates here and there, but never anything that has stuck with me. It's usually just one date and then it's over, never hearing from the woman again, or I never reach out.

Part of me enjoys the wilderness within where my heart lies dried up in the sun. There's no possible way I can ever be left or have my heart broken if I'm alone. I'd be perfectly content with never having a woman again; just me and Sarah until she's old enough to move out and get on with her own life. She may only be nine, but I think about her growing up every day, and how in another nine years, she'll be graduating high school.

Those thoughts always fill me with sheer, all-consuming panic, knowing that she'll be leaving one day, and I'd never prevent her from doing so. All I want is for her to be happy and live the picturesque life she deserves, and she can't do that if I'm already having empty nest syndrome before she's even in the double digits.

On the drive to work, my cell phone begins ringing through the Bluetooth of my truck. My heart stops when I see it’s Sarah’s school, immediately answering the call.

“Hello?” I try to keep my voice steady.

“Hello, Mr. Miller! This is Principal Sanders, and I’m just reaching out to all the parents of students in Mrs. Peters’ class to let them know that unfortunately she won’t be returning to school this year. She’s still out with a broken hip after her fall, and we’re afraid she won’t make a full recovery as soon as we anticipated.”

My pulse settles, relieved Sarah is okay. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I know Sarah loves her, so I’m sure she’ll be sad.”

“Aw, that’s very good to know! We’re having a welcoming party for the new teacher tomorrow at the park right across the street from the school. We thought we’d make it a special occasion to lift the student’s spirits a bit about Mrs. Peters. We’re just doing a little head count to see how much pizza we should order. This isn’t going to be school funded, it’s just some of the staff getting together to welcome her. Are you and Sarah interested in joining?”

I shrug as I keep my eyes fixed on the road. “Sure. I’d like to chip in if you’re accepting donations, or I could even bring some food myself.”

“That’s very nice of you, Mr. Miller. That would be a big help either way.”

“What time? It’s Saturday, so I don’t always work on those days.”

“It’ll be at one o’clock.”

I’ll just make sure I don’t pick up any overtime tomorrow. I usually always try to, just for the extra money, but it would be nice to take a day off and go to the park with Sarah.

“Okay. We’ll be there. I’ll bring two pizzas and maybe a tray of cookies.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Miller. That’s very appreciated. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Mrs. Sanders. See you tomorrow.”

We hang up, my lungs letting out a gentle sigh of relief. I’ve never gotten a random call from Sarah’s school like that except for when she’s sick, and I always seem to be assuming the absolute worst about everything. Truthfully, I think it’s the left over apprehension I feel from my wife’s passing.

***

“Hi, I have a pizza order under Joel,” I say as I look around the pizza shop, the teenager at the register sighing at me.

“Your total is twenty-five dollars even,” the boy replies flatly.

My fingers fish into my wallet, handing him cash as a woman comes up beside him and places my pizzas on the counter. The boy takes my money as I grip the pizzas in my hand, the warmth from the bottom of the box radiating through my palm.

The door to the pizza place dings its bell as I leave, making a b-line for my idling truck that has Sarah in the passenger seat with a tray of cookies on her lap.

“Here, let’s put these on the floor,” I say as I set the pizzas onto the ground beneath her. “Just don’t step on ‘em.”

“Foot pizza doesn’t sound good to me, dad,” she giggles, making me laugh with her. “I’m excited to see my friends!”

“Will Rachel be there today?”

She nods enthusiastically as we head toward the park. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be. Everyone was really excited about it yesterday in class. I know some people couldn’t get their parents to go, though.”

“Well, at least Rachel will be there,” I beam at her before turning my eyes back to the road in front of me.

“And us,” she replies fondly. “I didn’t think we’d be able to go. You always work on Saturdays.”

“I know, but I thought it would be nice to just hang out in the park with you for the day.”

“Thank you,” Sarah says softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.”

Pulling up to the park, I see several children and parents everywhere. It looks like her entire class has shown up, the thought of Sarah being able to see all her friends making me happy for her. I’m really glad I decided to not get that overtime in today. She deserves to have some fun.

Sarah carries the cookie tray as I carry the two pizzas, opting for just cheese and pepperoni. My eyes land on the principal, guiding Sarah towards her with my palm on her shoulder. She’s so ecstatic that she nearly ran away with the damn cookies.

“Hello, Mr. Miller. Sarah,” the principal says warmly. “You can set everything down here,” she gestures to a table.

“Hey, Sarah,” I hear from beside me. “Is this your dad?”

“Yep!” she replies. “This is my dad, Joel!”

After setting the pizza down, I turn with an outstretched hand, my breath being caught in my throat as I take in the appearance of Sarah’s new teacher. She’s absolutely stunning, and my god she looks young. Sarah’s last teacher was easily in her mid-sixties, but this one can’t even be thirty yet.

“Hi, Mr. Miller. I’m Sarah’s new teacher, Ms. Y/l/n, but you can call me y/n.” Her voice is feminine and light, making goosebumps trail across my skin as our palms connect.

“Please, call me Joel,” I reply with a quick lick of my lips.

Sarah toddles away, joining several of her classmates on the playground.

“I’ve only been teaching them for a day, but Sarah is the most well-behaved,” she leans in to whisper. “And no, I haven’t said that to every parent,” y/n giggles.

Her little laugh forces me to join her, my nose being caressed with the scent of her perfume from her standing so close to me.

“Well, I’m glad. She was the easiest child, really.”

“Do you have any others?” she asks, her eyes on mine, completely melting me.

I shift, doing my best to focus on the conversation rather than her effortless beauty. “No,” I smile. “Just her.”

“I’m an only child, too,” y/n grins, her eyes flitting over to the playground briefly before meeting my gaze again.

“I wasn’t lucky enough,” I tease, watching a laugh pass her delicate, rosy lips. “I have an older brother.”

“I always wished to have a sibling, but my parents were never successful when trying again.” Her voice fills with melancholy. “My mom had ovarian cancer, so it was pretty impossible to conceive after me. I was a miracle baby.”

My brows fit together, that familiar anxiety blooming in my chest at the mention of cancer. I place my hand on my sternum, as if I’m trying to catch that feeling and push it down.

“I’m sorry,” is all I can muster out to say. “My late wife passed away from cancer when Sarah was one.”

Why did I say that? I’ve never spoken about her to anyone other than family before, but for some reason, I felt the need to tell y/n.

Her hand reaches out and rests on my bicep. “I’m so sorry,” her gentle eyes soften even further. “My mom died when I was ten, and my father just passed away last year.”

“My god,” I respond with disbelief. “You’re way too young to have lost both of your parents already.”

Y/n’s eyes track to her hand that rests against my arm, quickly removing it as she clears her throat. “Oh, they were older when they had me, but still not old enough to pass away.”

“How old were they, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She smiles. “I don’t mind at all. My mom was only forty-six when she passed, and my dad was older, he was seventy-six.”

“They were a few years apart, then?”

“Sixteen,” y/n laughs awkwardly. “Everybody always finds that so strange, but they didn’t see how in love they were. I never saw them fight once.”

“That’s beautiful, y/n,” I smile warmly at her.

She blinks up at me, tucking her gorgeous hair behind her ear as her body shifts. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so depressing.”

“No,” I laugh lightly, shaking my head. “You didn’t. It’s life.”

Her lips spread with that breathtaking grin, my eyes all over her face before a voice rips me from my waking dreaming at her parted mouth.

“Hi, Ms. Y/l/n! This is my mom,” the little boy turns to his mother. “Can I go play now?”

The woman laughs, nodding.

The boy dashes away, joining the rest of the kids on the playground. My head bobs around a bit, looking for Sarah until I finally spot her, seeing her go down the slide with a vast grin on her face. I smile fondly at her, feeling guilty that I was so caught up in a conversation with her teacher, that I forgot to check on her.

Y/n and the mother of the little boy begin chatting, so I quietly make an exit, sitting down at one of the picnic tables with a full bottle of water in front of me.

My fingers twist the plastic top open, the crack of the seal popping as I press the bottle to my lips, tossing it back for a drink. I can’t help but gaze at y/n, taking in her figure with complete admiration. She’s wearing a yellow sundress that comes down to her knees, pairing it with a white cardigan over the straps. Her feet are donned in ivory flats that match the unnecessary cardigan she has on her arms.

It’s Texas, and it’s hot as hell out here. Maybe I’m being a bit of a pervert, though. Her skin is absolutely flawless in every sense of the word, and I just want to see more of it. I haven’t been this taken back by a woman since I first met my wife. That thought consumes my chest with guilt, a sharp pang internally piercing my abdomen.

My hand grips my stomach through my shirt, the tips of my fingers digging into the fabric. My wife had told me that she wants me to move on once she passes, and I’ve tried, but I haven’t found anybody. I haven’t even slept with anyone since her, only a few dates here and there that didn’t even end up with a kiss.

“Joel?” a voice interrupts my racing thoughts. “Are you okay?”

I look up to meet the eyes of y/n, soft and vast with concern. “Yes,” I answer quickly. “Just a little light headed. I think I need to eat.”

Her gaze loses a bit of its scrutiny. “Let me grab you some pizza or something. Do you have low blood sugar?”

I laugh. “No, I don’t.”

Y/n briefly leaves, returning with two slices of meat lover’s pizza on a paper plate. “You seem like a meat guy.”

“I am, actually,” a laugh pushes past my lips, my anxiety slowly easing away as I grab the plate of food, taking a bite. “Thank you.”

She sits adjacent from me, a piece of pizza in front of her as well. “You’re getting some color to your face again,” she chuckles.

“Did you really think I was so old that I had diabetes?”

Y/n laughs loudly, her head thrown back, exposing her kissable throat. “Diabetes isn’t always an old person thing, Joel. You could have type one, which you could be born with.”

“You didn’t really answer my question,” I tease.

Her cheeks flush with a hint of maroon, a satisfied smile spreading onto my own face. “No, I don’t think you’re old.”

“God, I feel it. I’ll be forty-one this year, Sarah will be ten. It’s crazy.”

“I’ll be twenty-five, and I’d like to complain about how I feel old, but I feel like you’d just judge me,” she beams vastly.

“I’d never judge you,” I say gently. “I was the most scared of turning thirty, though. It was like I should’ve been planning my retirement already.”

Y/n laughs heartily. “That’s how I feel now. I only just finished college a year ago, and I’m already a teacher. When will I need to plan my retirement?”

I chuckle. “Not for a long time.” My eyes flick between hers, “What made you want to be a teacher?”

A fond smile parts her lips. “My mom was a fourth grade teacher, and I wanted to be just like her.”

“She’d be proud of you,” I say before even thinking. “Sorry,” I instantly apologize, shaking my head. “It just came out.”

“No,” she beams wide. “Don’t apologize. You’re very kind, Joel.”

“Hey, there you are,” a deep voice echoes throughout the shaded gazebo.

An attractive, tall man saunters over to y/n, giving her a quick peck on the cheek that she awkwardly leans towards him for.

“Oh, hi. Joel, this is my fiancé, Sam. Sam, this is one of my student’s parents, Joel,” y/n says with her delicate voice that reminds me of wispy summer clouds.

“Nice to meet you,” Sam nods as he shakes my hand, sitting down beside y/n.

I can’t help but feel disappointed by the fact that she isn’t single, not like I had a chance anyway. Her fiancé does seem to be older though, appearing closer to my age than to hers. He has brown hair with a red tint to it, and bright blue eyes that pin you into place. It’s not hard to miss his light Scottish accent, or his incredibly toned physique. If this is her type, I definitely never had a chance.

“Oh, fiancé,” I say nonchalantly. “Congratulations.”

Y/n shifts as Sam wraps his arm around her shoulders, placing a kiss against her temple. “Thank you,” she says, but not without a hint of disdain in her tone.

“I’ve been trying to urge her to start planning the wedding, but it’s been a year since I proposed and still nothing,” he says humorously.

“And I’ve been focusing on my career,” y/n replies sharply, but with a clear faux smile on her face. “So, I haven’t had time for much else.”

“Hire someone,” Sam says through gritted teeth. “It isn’t difficult, darling.”

My head moves around the incredibly uncomfortable situation in front of me, spotting Sarah on the swings beside Rachel. Part of me wishes there was some sort of excuse I could use to leave this picnic table, but I’m afraid I’m glued here against my will.

“Ms. Y/l/n?” a student comes up beside her, “I brought these for you.” The girl hands her a bouquet of flowers, y/n’s entire face lighting up.

“Oh, my goodness, Felicity! Thank you so much!” She places her nose against one of the roses. “I love roses. They’re my favorite.”

The girl bashfully giggles as she walks away, the mother coming up to speak to y/n.

“She insisted on getting you flowers,” the mother gushes with enthusiasm. “I’m happy to see the kids love you so much after your first day. Clearly you’re a wonderful replacement.”

“Oh, thank you so much. I didn’t feel like I did anything special, but I’m glad they like me. They’re all so amazing.”

The mom smiles fondly as she walks away towards the pizza table, grabbing herself some food.

I honestly feel guilty that we didn’t bring anything specifically for y/n. The thought didn’t even cross my mind, and now I know I have to make up for it. Perhaps I could send Sarah to school on Monday with something special for her. Would that come off as creepy, though? That’s the last thing I want to do, is freak her out.

Sam stands up and walks away, adding some fruit onto a plate from one of the platters.

“I’m really sorry you had to witness that,” y/n says quietly. “I specifically asked him not to come.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I understand,” I smile politely. “He seems like a nice guy.”

Her eyes wander over to him, a forlorn expression spreading onto her perfect face. “Yeah.”

I catch a glimpse of Sarah running past me, completely sweaty as she dives her arm into the cooler to fish out a bottle of water for herself. Her eyes meet mine and she gives me an excited wave as she chugs her drink. I wave back with a small laugh, watching as she tosses the empty bottle out and runs back to the playground with her friends.

“She adores you,” y/n says softly. “Everybody introduced themselves in class yesterday, and she talked about you.”

A warmth spreads in my chest. “Really? What did she say?”

“She just said that your name is Joel, you work in construction, and that you’re the best dad in the world.”

My cheeks ache as I smile, laughing slightly. “I love that kid so damn much.”

“I can tell,” y/n replies with a vast grin. “She’s a lucky girl.”

“Please, I’m the lucky one. When I told you she was an easy kid, I meant it. I’ve had to raise her alone for the last eight years, and it’s almost like she knew I was a single parent. She never made anything difficult for me,” I laugh, “well, until recently. Her growth spurts have made her so tired and now it’s almost impossible to get her out of bed for school.”

Y/n laughs, the sound being music to my ears. “Oh, god, I don’t blame her. I’m the same way and I’m done growing.”

Our laughter mixes together, being cut off by Sam’s sudden presence again. He plops down his plate of fruit, only having one piece of pizza beside it.

“Did I miss something?” he asks with an arched brow and a grin.

“No,” y/n shakes her head. “Just saying it’s hard to get me out of bed in the morning.”

“Oh, I have my ways,” he says suggestively.

My brows raise as I shift uncomfortably on the bench.

Y/n slaps his arm as she scowls at him. “Jesus, Sam, this is my job. There’s kids here, can you please be quiet?”

“Oh, come on, they’re all the way over there. They can’t hear me.”

“The parents can,” she continues to scold. “Please.”

“Only Joel can hear me, and I don’t think he minds,” Sam looks pointedly at me.

“Oh,” I flick my eyes between them. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“See?” he beams. “Relax, darling. This new job has you all uptight.”

Y/n crosses her arms, looking anywhere but at the man beside her. It’s honestly making me uneasy to be around them any longer, so I decide to stand, excusing myself to use the bathroom.

As the sun greets my skin, I let out a sigh of relief, a million different thoughts running through my mind right now. Almost all of them are focused on y/n, wondering if I’ll ever see her again in person after today. What possible excuse could there be for me seeing her? She’s Sarah’s teacher, and there’s no logical, normal way to see her outside of school unless I asked her out, but she’s already with somebody.

It’s hard to hide my disappointment at that fact, but truthfully I think she’s out of my league, even if she apparently is interested in older men. Sam and I are polar opposites in all the worst ways. He’s toned and ripped with colored eyes and hair, while I have the softened dad bod with shaggy hair that’s dark brown mixed with a bit of gray, and normal, non-alluring brown eyes. If there were ever a man to compete against for a woman’s affection, it isn’t him. He would win every single time.

I’ve never gone for a woman who’s more than five years younger than me, and y/n is sixteen years younger than me. I’m reminded of the story she told about her parents, and the fact that they were sixteen years apart. She spoke so fondly of them, that clearly she would never have an issue with being someone my age.

God, who am I kidding? She’s engaged and far too stunning for me. I need to quit my daydreaming now before I end up in a fictional spiral about a woman I barely know.

As I leave the humid bathroom, I see Sarah over at the playground, running around in the sand barefoot with Rachel and another girl chasing her. I make my way over, placing my hands on my hips as I watch her sprint away.

“Playing tag?” I ask, Sarah not even looking at me for a second.

“Yep!” she answers quickly. “Don’t distract me!”

Laughing, I walk away, heading towards the table that I’m dreading to sit at again. To my relief, y/n is alone, gazing down in her lap as I sit across from her again.

“Where’s Sam?” I ask her, looking around.

“Oh,” her eyes meet mine, “he’s on a call for work.”

“What does he do?”

“Physical therapy,” she shrugs. “Boring.”

I laugh. “Not nearly as boring as construction.”

“Please,” she scoffs, “I’d much rather hear your work stories than his, I’m sure. He just tells me how he gropes women all day,” y/n laughs.

“Professionally gropes,” I jokingly correct her, resulting in an effortless giggle. “At the end of the day, he comes home smelling a lot better than me, I promise you.”

She chuckles, gazing at me. “Thank you for talking to me so much, Joel. I was nervous I’d be lonely at this thing.”

“You’re very easy to talk to, y/n, you don’t have to thank me.”

There’s a moment where we sit silently, just looking at each other, and I’m wondering if she feels the same spark between us as I do.

“Okay,” Sam’s voice causes me to jump slightly, “sorry about that, I was just answering a client’s questions about what exercises they can do at home.”

I nod. “No worries. Physical therapy sounds like an interesting job,” I smile, y/n giving me a dramatic eye roll.

“Thank you!” he answers loudly, looking over to y/n. “See? I told you it’s not boring.

There’s a light thump beside me on the picnic table, seeing a sweaty, panting Sarah beside me. “Daddy, I’m tired. Can we leave?”

I chuckle, nodding. “We can leave whenever you want.”

“It’s too hot out.”

“Then we can leave.”

Sarah smiles up at me, turning to look at Sam and y/n. “Who are you?” she asks curiously.

“I’m Sam, Ms. Y/l/n’s fiancé.”

“Fiancé?” Sarah looks to me. “That’s before marriage, right?”

I laugh, nodding. “Yes.”

“Well, that’s good. She’s a very nice lady.”

Y/n laughs, shaking her head. “Thank you, Sarah.”

I stand off the bench, Sarah standing with me. “It was lovely meeting you, y/n. And Sam,” I nod.

Y/n stands, shaking my hand. “Thank you for coming, Joel, and for staying to talk for so long.”

“Of course,” I smile. “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.”

Sarah and I walk back to the truck, my mind reeling with everything y/n and I spoke about. I’ve decided that there’s nothing stopping me from seeing that beautiful woman again, even if I have to call off work just to stop by the school. I’ve been meaning to just to spend lunch with Sarah, anyway, and now I can see her and y/n at the same time.

I need to see her again.

****

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #smut #yn fanfic #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou smut

37 notes · View notes

arielhopepeace · 1 year

Text

This is the final part of my Javier story, and I’ll be writing my new Joel story next!

Part Four

18+ only

Tw: smut, murder, drugs, prostitution, oral (m/f and f/m receiving), gun violence

Javier’s POV

Steve and I are sat at the embassy, both of us reviewing the recordings of y/n and her father's right hand man, Harry. I'm clearly distracted, picturing her gorgeous moans falling past her swollen lips as she shudders beneath me with pleasure. I've only been away from her for a few hours, but it feels like fucking years.

Those same moans that were filling my bedroom just this morning are now echoing throughout the office, making me shift in my seat.

"Yeah, we can take this out," Steve says as he stops the recording, the click of the tape making me snap out of my waking dream.

"Oh, yeah. Right."

He shifts, standing to pull a file out of the large metal cabinets behind us, flopping it on our desk. "I did some digging this morning while you were with y/n," he says with a knowing smirk, "and I looked into her very close friend, Harry."

I move forward, gazing down at the several pictures of him, and the papers with his name on it. "And?"

"Guy's clean. He's never been arrested for anything anywhere; not in the states, not in England, not in Colombia. If it wasn't for these pictures that we've taken of him, we'd having nothing on him. But now that we have a name, we matched it to the face."

My fingers sift through the file to pick up a photo of him, getting a good look at his appearance. He's not a bad looking guy by any means, and he looks tall. I've never thought that I was unattractive, but for some reason I'm highly jealous of this man, and feel like I'm simply not better than him.

God, what's happening to me?

"Peña," Steve snaps, making me shake my head to focus on him. "You trying to fuck this guy too?"

"God, shut up," I shake my head, chuckling as I toss the photo. "Just haven't really looked at him before."

"When will you admit that you slept with yet another informant?"

My hands finger my back pocket, pulling out my cigarettes and lighter. "I've never admitted to sleeping with any."

Steve laughs, shaking his head. "Yeah, you didn't have to. But don't let Ambassador Noonan find out about y/n. She'd fire you, Peña, and probably worse."

I light the tip, inhaling the smoke and feeling it spread into my lungs before I blow it out. "Yeah, whatever. She didn't fire me for going to the whorehouse, did she?"

"Yeah, because those women weren't y/n, a very important informant."

My feet kick up onto the desk as I lean back in the chair. "Have you finished with your lecture, Murphy? We need to make sure nobody becomes a rat for y/n's dad and tells him where we live. I think that's a lot more important than who I'm fucking."

He throws his hands up with a laugh. "Hey, I'm not judging you." Steve leans forward, looking over Harry's file. "What if we made him a rat for us?"

"Pshh," I scoff, "I doubt he'd ever cooperate."

"What if we give him a deal? He becomes a rat for us, then be sent back to England where he came from."

"What, and no prison time for what he's done?"

Steve shrugs. "We have no proof of anything he's done. We don't know if he's killed people, sold drugs, done drugs. All we know is that he's the right hand man of a very dangerous, very bad person. We know for a fact that y/n's dad's done stuff, but Harry is kind of a question mark. I wouldn't put it past him, but he's clean and we have no proof, so," he sighs, leaning back. "What do you think?"

"I think he should serve some time, at least, but we can try to convince him. Should we go through y/n?"

He nods. "She'd be our best bet. She has her way of—convincing him."

My jaw tightens with envy, picturing her beneath me this morning again as I shake my head. "I won't make her sleep with him if she doesn't want to."

"Neither will I, but she doesn't seem to be forced."

I scoff, inhaling from my cigarette. "When will she go? Tonight?"

"I think that'd be good, yeah. We have to move faster than her dad, don't we?"

"Definitely."

When Steve and I show back up at my apartment, y/n is lounging around in a long t-shirt, sitting on the couch watching tv. Her face lights up when she sees me, the smile faintly diminishing when she notices Steve.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"We need to wire you up and send you off to your dad with a mission," I say slowly. "We want you to ask Harry to be a rat for us."

She stands. "What?! I can't do that."

"You said he wouldn't hurt you, right?" Steve cuts in.

Y/n nods. "Of course he wouldn't."

"Then it won't hurt to ask, will it?

Her eyes meet mine, looking watery and full of emotion. "My dad might think it's weird if I keep coming around."

"Tell him you and Harry are together," I shrug. "It's the best explanation."

"Fine," she answers quietly, her eyes meeting the floor. "Just give me a half an hour to get ready, and then we can go."

Steve and I both nod, taking our places on the couch as y/n disappears into my bedroom, closing the door firmly behind herself.

I feel so fucking guilty for putting her through this, but it's my job, and ultimately hers as well. She wants her dad to go down for what he's done, but we can't get him without her help. She will be able to provide us with endless proof, and hopefully Harry will cooperate and give us even more.

After a while, she emerges from the bedroom donned in a tight red dress that hugs her perfect, feminine figure. Her hair is pulled back elegantly, a few short strands hanging in her lightly makeup-kissed face. I can't help but to stand there dumbly and gawk at her, enamored with every little detail of her.

"Can we just go?" she asks solemnly, my heart twisting in my chest.

"Murphy, can you go get the wire out of my car, please?" I hand him my keys from my back pocket.

He nods and ducks out, my hands instantly connecting to y/n's face as I rest my forehead against hers.

"What if I'm wrong about him and he kills me?" she asks with a shaky voice, her clammy hands covering mine.

"He won't," I say quietly. "I won't let him hurt you, cariño. Remember the safe word?"

"Car," she repeats.

"Yes, good girl," I respond, sending a small smirk to her lips.

Her face tilts up to meet my gaze, her lips gently pressing against mine as her hands weave into my hair. "Javi, promise me you won't listen if things with Harry get—heated."

I scoff, smirking. "It's my job, baby. I'm a big boy, I can handle it," I lie. "I told you that you have to do what you have to do. And if you're going to convince him to be a snitch, you might have to use that pretty mouth of yours for more than talking."

She giggles, biting her lip. "You haven't even felt my mouth around you yet." Her lips brush against my neck. "You think we have time before we go?"

I chuckle lowly, the bump in my throat bobbing up and down as I swallow, feeling her fluffy lips trailing across it. "No, baby." My hands push her away at arm's length, admiring her face, "God, you're fucking beautiful."

Her cheeks turn a light pink, the apartment door opening causing y/n and I to part like the Red Sea.

Steve saunters over to us, handing me the wire and body tape. Y/n slips her arms out of the thin straps of her dress, dropping the top to reveal her bare breasts to me.

"Ohhh—kay," Steve says awkwardly as he turns.

My eyes are on her chest, licking my lips as I rip a small piece of tape off, connecting the bottom of the wire below her sternum. Y/N's mouth twitches with a smirk.

"Sorry, Steve. I forgot you had a wife."

"It's fine," he clears his throat. "Just tell me when you're done."

My hands rip off another piece, flattening another section of the wire between her breasts. The temptation is too intense, my mouth pushing forward to attach itself to her left nipple. I suck quietly, flicking my tongue around the pearled center and y/n's mouth hangs open.

"Almost done," I say quickly before I close my lips around her other nipple, pulling it gently between my teeth.

She sucks her lips in, her eyebrows furrowed together in that beautiful way she does when something pleases her.

I move away, fastening the last bit of the wire to her as I help her slide up her dress, giving her a subtle wink before telling Steve that we're done. Y/n's eyes are on the living room floor, her chest heaving slightly.

"Ready?" Steve asks.

She nods, leaving the apartment before the both of us, my hands covering my hardened cock in my tight black jeans.

Once we're safely tucked away into the trees, Steve and I each put on a pair of wired headphones that are connected to the complimenting device of y/n's wire. We prefer listening with headphones, since it allows us to hear small background noises easier. With the dicey quality of the audio, we need all the help we can get.

"Hello?" y/n calls out in my ears. "Dad?" It's quiet, her voice sounding out again. "Harry?"

"Hey," Harry's accented voice rings out. "What are you doing here?"

There's the slight sound of their lips smacking together, making me shift in my seat.

"I'm here for you," she coos delicately.

He chuckles, whispering yet still audible. "Are your friends listening?"

"Yes," she answers quietly. "Can we go somewhere to talk privately?"

"Sure," Harry replies.

Steve and I look to each other, both of us letting out a nervous exhale. My heart is pounding, not knowing at all how this man is going to react to her proposition.

"I know you said you needed some time to think about things," y/n begins, "but what if I gave you a way out of all of this?"

Harry lets out a low groan, clearly being pleased by y/n in some way. "How, y/n?"

"They've asked me to ask you to be an inside man for them. You'll get either no time at all and a flight back to England, or a lessened sentence," her voice is low; sultry. She's definitely going to get her way if this is the approach she's taking.

"I—" a slight gasp is heard from him, and a hum of contentment from y/n. "What if they find out?" he grunts, his voice a bit shaky. "I'll be dead."

"I won't let anything happen to you," she responds, the sounds coming through the headphones making it very clear that she's giving him a blowjob.

"God, you suck me like a fucking goddess," he moans, making me clench my teeth. "Please don't stop, baby."

"Say yes and I won't," y/n giggles lightly, the sound pissing me off and arousing me at the same time.

"Need to know—more," he breathes. "Need to know what the deal would actually be."

"Then talk to them."

The coughing, sucking, slurping sounds travel through my ears, making me so insanely jealous that I want to chuck the headphones out of the car window and stomp on them. But I know she's only doing it to get him to say yes. I just hate that I know she enjoys it.

Harry cries out after a few minutes of explicit sounds coming from y/n, high-pitched moans repeatedly running through the headphones, y/n's accomplished hum making me tuck my lips in with ire. I pull out a cigarette and light it, rolling the window down to blow the smoke out of it.

"Come out with me to talk to them," she says gently, her voice still laced with seduction. "I promise they won't arrest you."

The wire falls silent, my fingers pressing against the muff on my ear to attempt to hear anything at all.

"Okay," Harry responds gently.

"And if my dad asks, I've been here so much because you and I are seeing each other."

He chuckles, "Well, I mean, aren't we?"

She giggles, the sound of them kissing again making me roll my eyes. "Just tell him if he asks, okay?"

"Mhmm," he agrees. "Take me to these agents of yours."

Steve and I exchange a look, tossing our headphones off from over our ears as we ready our pistols, cocking them to chamber a bullet. We hop out of the jeep, Steve on one side of it and me on the other, both of us ready and prepared for the worst.

Harry and y/n come strolling up hand-in-hand, my eyes instantly squinting to a glare at their intimacy.

"Hand over your gun," Steve says quietly, one hand on his lowered weapon while the other splays out for Harry's.

He keeps one hand up, the other sneaking around to his waistband to present Steve with his gun. "I'm Harry," he says timidly. "I want to hear the deal before I agree to anything."

"If you help us imprison your boss, we'll get you off scott-free," Steve says with his eyes never leaving Harry's. "No time for you."

"And if I say no?"

"Then you walk away and we catch you another time," I say harshly, Steve shooting me a quick look of disapproval.

"What about y/n?" he asks. "What happens to her after her dad goes to prison?"

Steve cocks his head, looking genuinely confused. "Whatever she wants. She's not guilty of anything."

"I want her to have money for her own house," Harry says seriously. "Let me give her some of my money before I lose it."

"Harry, no," y/n protests. "I don't want you giving me anything."

He turns and cups her face exactly as I do, the pain of seeing her with him churning my stomach. "I need to make sure you'll be okay, darling. I can't leave here without knowing you're settled."

"I'll figure it out."

"Okay, and let me help you do that," he kisses her softly.

"All right, pretty boy, enough," I say sharply. "Do we have a deal or not?"

Harry extends his hand to Steve, their hands shaking as he then moves to me. I reluctantly take it, my eyes on his in nearly a glare.

"Deal," he nods.

Steve and I both tuck away our guns, my eyes falling to y/n who won't make eye contact with me. Harry takes her into his arms and kisses her, watching as his tongue connects neatly with hers.

"We'll give you y/n's wire," Steve says as he clears his throat. "Do you know when the next meeting is or if he has a rat to tell him where we live yet?"

Harry's head turns to us, his hands on y/n's ass. "Next meeting is tomorrow evening. I don't know if he has anybody yet. He's been doing a lot without clearing it with me first, and I don't know if he'll clear this with me, either. I can try to subtly ask."

Steve nods in approval. "Do that. Let me write down the phone number to the embassy, and you can call there to let us know when to be here. We'll just give you a wire then."

He lets out a sigh, his body turning towards us. "Let me give y/n money before you guys get me killed."

"Fine," Steve answers quickly. "Just do a wire transfer."

"Harry," she begins to protest, but he stops her by placing his lips against hers.

"Darling, please let me."

Reluctantly, she finally nods in agreement. "I'll write down my bank information."

Back at the apartment, Steve has just left, giving me a private talk about y/n and how I need to be careful when it comes to sleeping with informants. Obviously I shrugged him off, practically shooing him out of my apartment.

Y/n is in the bathroom brushing her teeth, my shoulder leaning against the doorframe as I gaze at her, my arms crossed over my chest.

"So," I begin slowly, trying not to become a jealous mess, "I feel like I have to ask."

She spits into the sink, gazing up at me with worried, glassy eyes. "What?"

"Did you enjoy yourself earlier?"

I watch her body language shift. "Yes."

My jaw tightens. "And do you enjoy him more than me?"

"No!" she answers quickly. "You're both so different, but you—" her eyes soften as she spreads her hands across my chest, her fingers closing around the back of my neck, "you are better."

The praise and reassurance is what I need, but I want more. I need more.

"Tell me how."

Her hand moves to between my legs, but I gently stop her.

"No, with your words, baby."

Y/n smiles softly, "I don't think anybody has wanted me to tell them how good they are without showing them."

I push one of the hanging strands of her hair behind her ear, kissing her softly. "I do."

"You're sweet, Javi," she begins lowly, "and funny, and smart and caring. You're one of the first people to actually give a shit about me in a long time. Yeah, Harry cares about me too, but it's so different with you. You don't have prison time looming over your head, and you make me feel so safe."

"Guns blazing for you, baby, remember?" I chuckle, giving her a gentle kiss. "When Harry said you were together, I guess it just bothered me a little."

"I didn't answer him because we aren't. He's a client that just happens to like me." She gazes up at me with doe eyes, "And you are someone I really like, who also happens to like me too."

My hands move down her back, cupping her perfect ass in my hands. "Very much."

Y/n smirks. "You gonna show me how much? I'm more of a visual learner."

I laugh, feeling my cock twitch in my jeans. "Only if you want me to."

"Yes, please."

"Well, when you ask so nicely," I beam, slowly leaning in to twirl my tongue with hers.

It's insane how fast this woman ignites that passion in me, making me instantly harden within seconds. Her fingers mess with my buckle, the metal clanking to the ground with my pants beneath it. I kick off my shoes, tossing my jeans to the side with a sharp jolt of my right foot.

Y/n's chest heaves against mine, my hands yanking her dress down by the straps, then pushing it off of her body. She steps out of it as I drop to my knees in front of her, running my nose along the wet spot in her panties.

"Never tasted you," I breathe against her. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

She bites her lip as she peers down at me, her hand already gripping the top of my hair as she presses her ass against the lip of the sink. "Javi," she breathes, "I wanna feel your tongue."

I swipe my tongue up the slit of her weeping cunt through the fabric of her panties, making her gasp and lean her head back. "Don't know if you're desperate enough for me."

"Please," she immediately begs, unlike last time. "I'll do anything, Javier."

My fingers drag across the goosebump-riddled skin on her thigh, placing my fingertips against the soaked entrance through the underwear, rubbing her teasingly. "Anything?"

Y/n whimpers. Music to my fucking ears. "Yes," she whines. "Just please."

I move her panties to the side, seeing how much of a mess she is for me. Her arousal has spread to the outside of her swollen lips, my fingers spreading her to see her beautiful, puffy clit.

"Mmm," I hum as I admire her. "Such a pretty little cunt, cariño."

She tugs at my hair, a stinging sensation running across my scalp. "Please!" she cries, desperation evident in her pleading.

Without saying a word, I take my middle and ring finger, slowly easing them inside of her tight, soaking entrance.

"Fuck," she trembles. "Yes, Javi. Thank you, thank you."

I move forward to connect my tongue to her sensitive little bud, her body jumping when I do. Her breasts fall up and down rapidly as I circle my tongue around her clit, using the flat of my tongue to please her.

"Yes!" she cries. "So fucking good."

The taste of her makes me feel dizzy, my head buzzing with a trillion different dirty thoughts, things to say, and ways I want to drive myself into her. Her wetness is audible as I thrust my fingers in and out, curling them to hit her little trigger spot inside.

My chin is wet from her, my mustache also being completely coated, as well as some of my nose. The only thing I can taste, smell, feel and think about is y/n's cunt, and I'd believe you if you told me I died and went to heaven.

I could spend an eternity between her legs, living my every day life simply being buried between this perfect slit of hers.

"I'm so close," she mewls, gripping my hair tighter. "Oh, please," y/n begs me again.

"You want to cum on my face or on my cock, baby? Tell me," I ask hoarsely as I continue to fuck her with my fingers.

"Your cock!" she shouts. "Now!"

My fingers slip out of her, tugging down her panties as I rise from the bathroom floor. I flip her body, making her face the mirror as I get my leaky, reddened cock out of my briefs.

"Want you to watch how pretty you look when you cum on me," I grunt, my eyes briefly staring down at the swell of her ass. "Gonna take all of me, baby?"

"Yes," she whines, her brows ruffled together. "Please fuck me, Javi."

My tip pushes between her folds, finding that tight, dripping entrance as I squeeze my eyes shut. We both let out a relieved coo once I'm in to the hilt, my hands going up to grip her bun at the base, forcing her head up to look in the mirror.

"Don't take your eyes off me," I say harshly, beginning to quickly and roughly bury myself into her.

My right hand rubs her mini bundle of nerves, feeling her walls squeeze against me tightly, making me groan. Our eyes meet in the mirror, a smirk forming on my face as I watch her fucked out expression twist with even more pleasure.

"Javier!" she shouts, her hands gripping the sides of the sink as she bites her lips. "You fuck me so good."

"I fuck you the best," I grunt, giving her an extra hard thrust that makes her knees buckle beneath her. "Say it."

"Nobody could fuck me better," she cries, a tear running down her cheek. "You're so—fucking big," her voice breaks, making me smile at her.

"I know, baby, but you take me so well." A broken moan falls out of my throat, briefly leaning my head back before connecting my eyes back onto hers. "C'mon, cariño, cum on me with this sweet little cunt."

She instantly begins to scream, her body driving forward towards the mirror as she orgasms around me. Her walls squeeze and flutter, making me crash even more roughly into her.

"Fuck," I curse, feeling myself on the brink. "Where do you want my cum, baby? You've fucking earned it."

"In me," she sobs, her voice strained and hoarse. "Want to be full of you."

I release her bun to grip either side of her hips, my own hips jerking forward so quickly, that it sounds like we're being given a round of applause inside the bathroom.

My release begins to spill out of me in long, hot spurts, my body stilling as I let out shattered, desperate cries of satisfaction. Y/n moans lightly with me, feeling her entrance squeeze me one more time, making me shake and coo.

"So good," I praise her. "So sweet, baby."

She chuckles bashfully, biting her lip at me in the mirror as I reluctantly withdraw from inside of her. My cum leaks out a bit, my thumb swiping up her folds to gather some of it onto the tip. I wrap my hand around her face, watching her reflection greedily suck on my thumb after I stick it between her gorgeous lips.

My cock twitches, but instantly tells me to fuck off. I can't go again. This woman fucking drains me, but I can't get enough of her.

I spin her around and pull her in for a deep, tongue-filled kiss, smearing her sweet and tangy wetness on her face with my own, groaning from the memory of being between her legs.

"You are the most incredible woman," I say between kisses, resulting in a lazy giggle from her.

"The most incredible woman has been gifted with the most incredible man," she coos, making me chuckle with her.

Later in my bed, y/n is laid beside me wearing a long shirt and some panties beneath it, her breathing steady and even as she sleeps peacefully on my chest. My hand rubs at her clothed back in slow, long pulls, feeling my own eyes beginning to flutter closed.

A creaking noise causes me to perk my ear up, my body immediately sitting up out of bed. I turn to my nightstand to grab my pistol, looking back to y/n who hasn't woken up from her serene slumber.

My head pokes out of the cracked open bedroom door, peering into the empty hallway. I lower my pistol, knowing that I'm just being over dramatic and paranoid. As I step away from the doorframe, the distinct sound of a bullet blasts through my living room, making me jump and immediately dive over onto the bed on top of y/n.

"What the fuck is going on?!" she shouts suddenly, her heart pounding against my chest.

"Get on the ground!" I yell as I roll off of her, watching her scurry to the floor beside my bed. "You're making a fucking mistake, whoever you are!"

The hall light gets flicked on, sweat beginning to form at my hairline as I watch two figures approaching the bedroom. Confidently, and without a falter in their steps, strides in Harry and y/n's dad.

"Harry?" she asks shakily from beside the bed? "What are you doing?"

He scoffs, looking to me. "Surprise, I found you."

Y/n's dad has his gun pointed at her, while Harry's is pointed at me. "Why am I not surprised to find you here, y/n? You really just fuck anybody," her dad scoffs. "And you've been a rat this whole time?"

"Please," she says quietly. "You can do whatever you want to me, just don't hurt him."

"How about we kill you both and call it even?" Harry asks with a devilish smirk, causing me to shake my head.

"You're a fucking bastard!" y/n yells. "How could you?"

He gives me a subtle nod towards my gun, gesturing his head over to my bed. "Get rid of it."

"Not a chance in hell, pretty boy."

Harry widens his eyes eagerly, silently mouthing, "Just trust me."

I flick my eyes to y/n's dad who's focused on his sobbing, trembling daughter, his finger resting on the trigger. There's no way in hell that I'd ever risk y/n getting shot, but for some reason in this moment, I actually trust Harry.

"I won't tell you again, Agent," he says firmly, pulling the hammer back on his pistol. "Get rid of your fucking gun."

"Fine," I respond flatly, tossing my pistol onto my mattress.

Y/n's father's eyes turn to mine, his body turning towards me, too. "I want you to tell me everything the DEA has on me."

With my hands raised up to my head, I chuckle. "Everything."

He shakes his head, looking to Harry. "You wanna take y/n while I get more out of this piece of shit?"

Harry responds with a laugh, sauntering towards y/n. "Definitely. I'd love to have more of that perfect ass."

"I don't care what you do, just make sure you kill her afterwards," her dad shakes his head. "Come on, Agent Peña, we have things to discuss."

He gestures me out of the room with his raised gun, and I lock eyes with y/n who is quaking as Harry gets closer to her. She cowers down to the floor, ducking her head to hold herself. I truly think Harry is playing along, and that he's not going to hurt y/n. If I hear any negative noise come from her though, I won't hesitate to kill him.

In the living room, y/n's father shoves me to the floor, putting his foot onto my neck as my cheek stays pressed against the carpet.

"The less detailed you are, the more fingers you lose. Now, tell me," he spits. "Tell me before I kill you."

"No habla inglés," I say, smirking.

He pushes his foot further into my neck, leaning down to press his pistol against the back of my head. "You arrogant fucking bastard," he says angrily.

My eyes squeeze from the pain, still laughing all the same. "One of my many charming qualities."

A shot is fired, making me jump slightly, wondering if I have actually died and am currently entering the spirit world.

Y/n's father falls beside me, a clear bullet wound in his head, the blood dripping down onto the carpet. I leap up, turning to see y/n holding the smoking pistol.

My face falls as I watch her go pale, Harry standing behind her with a forlorn expression on his face. She drops the gun, a muffled clatter bouncing onto carpet as she begins to fall.

"Hey!" I shout, running to her as Harry and I both catch her.

He gives me a small nod, releasing her into my arms. "Once she trusted I was telling the truth, she made the decision to kill him."

"Fuck," I curse. "You didn't try to talk her out of it?"

Harry shrugs. "She wasn't interested in anything I had to say."

Y/n gasps slightly, reaching up to grab my face as her eyes flick open. "Javi, are you okay? Where's Harry?" her head turns to see him. "Are you okay?" she asks quickly.

He chuckles. "I'm fine, y/n."

"Y/n, I have to call this in. Let me get you back into bed." My lips press to her forehead.

She nods, walking with shaky legs back into the bedroom. "He's dead, right?"

Harry follows us. "You're one hell of a shot, so, yeah."

"Good," she spits. "I hope he's in hell."

"Come on, cariño. Lay down. I'm gonna call Murphy."

Police and the DEA flood my apartment, Harry being restrained in cuffs until I explain the extent of our situation.

"He's your informant?" Ambassador Noonan asks with her usual shrewd tone and distaste for me.

"Yes," I say quickly, "and y/n is as well."

"The only reason why I'll keep the fact that you're fucking y/n out of the report, is because she's been through enough. She killed her own father to protect you, and if that doesn't scream that you're fucking her, I don't know what does." Her wrinkled mouth purses. "That was one down, and we still have to catch Escobar."

"We will," Murphy says firmly from beside me. "This was a win. I don't give a shit that he's dead."

"Nobody does," Noonan scoffs. "Maybe except for Peña's female informant."

"I want her in the states away from all of this," I tell her firmly. "This isn't a request."

"You don't get to make demands, Agent Peña," Noonan says harshly, glaring at me. "I'll see what I can do for her, and don't ever talk to me like that again."

I shift, nodding my head. "Yes, ma'am."

"Now, I have a shit ton of paperwork to go over, a drug dealer informant to send back to England for his help, and it's not even five in the morning yet, so, good day, agents."

Murphy and I nod, watching as the ambassador and her body guards leave the apartment. My eyes travel around the room, landing my gaze on Colonel Carrillo who is talking to a blank-faced y/n.

She's given several statements to multiple different people, retelling the story of how she shot her father in self defense. Truthfully, I wish I was the one to kill the bastard, or at the very least, arrest him. We could've potentially gotten a fuck ton of information out of him, but I think y/n wouldn't have felt satisfied with that ending.

"Hey," I saunter over to her, nodding to Carrillo. "A moment, Colonel?"

"Of course," he nods back, walking over to the dead body on my living room floor.

"Are you disappointed in me?" she asks with tears in her eyes.

"Oh, baby, come here," I say softly as I escort her into my bedroom, closing the door behind us.

My arms wrap around her midsection, pulling her close as she sobs into my chest.

"I'm sorry," she wails, "I'm so sorry, Javi."

"Baby, why? You didn't do anything wrong."

Her head leans away, her eyes meeting mine. "I'm sorry that I put your life in danger. My dad could've killed you, so I—"

My gaze softens. "Y/n, you saved my life. You made the decision you thought was best. Own it, baby."

"I hated him so fucking much," she breathes in choppy breaths. "And when I knew he was out there hurting you, I couldn't stand it. I've seen him kill people without my own eyes, and I couldn't even cry. But knowing that you might die tonight, it fucking broke me."

My eyes turn bleary as I lean down and kiss her passionately, our tongues tangling like the perfect salsa dance.

"Y/n," I breathe out, "I asked Noonan to get you back to the states as soon as possible."

She pulls away, her brows scrunched together. "No," she shakes her head. "If you're staying in Colombia, so am I."

"It's too dangerous here, cariño. Especially now that your father's dead, people will come looking for you for information." I shake my head. "You're not staying."

"I'm staying, Javi," she kisses me deeply. "You'll keep me safe and I know you will."

I sigh, taking in her beautiful face and admiring every single detail about it. How can I say no to her? She's perfect.

"We'll keep each other safe," I smile, cupping her face to pull her in for a delicate, deep kiss.

****

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #smut #yn fanfic #pedro pascal #narcos smut #javier pena smut #javier peña #narcos

38 notes · View notes

arielhopepeace · 1 year

Text

I fucking can’t with this quality 😮‍💨

Part Three

18+ only

Tw: smut (with Javier 🙂), more smut (not with Javier), talk of drugs, violence, prostitution, smoking

6,600 words

My eyes slide open, adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings as I sit up in the large, comfortable bed, gazing around the dimly lit room that smells faintly of smoke. The analog clock beside me says it's six in the morning, and I shake my head in disbelief. I never wake up this early. Most nights I don't get home until four.

I step through the slightly opened bedroom door, the creaking of its hinges making me wince as I continue treading across the carpet with my bare feet, enjoying the short, rough texture beneath them.

My gaze flicks over to Javier who's spread across his couch, laying shirtless and only in a pair of his black boxer briefs. His right arm is behind his head, stretching his torso, accentuating even more of his lean physique.

I'm distracted by his legs and their firm, yet slender appearance. His thighs look muscular, sprinkled gently with black hair. I imagine running my lips against them, pleasing him with my mouth as he gazes down at me with a slack jaw and hazy brown eyes.

"Shit," he jumps, starling me and my lewd thoughts. "I'm not used to having someone here."

"I'm so sorry," I gasp as I apologize profusely. "I'm sorry."

Javier sits up, rubbing his face as he chuckles. "No, I'm sorry for scaring you. I just wasn't expecting you to be standing there."

"I just woke up. It's really early. You can sleep in your bed until you have to wake up. I don't think I can sleep anymore."

He stands off the couch, walking into the kitchen with my eyes following him, watching his back muscles contort as he readies a pot of coffee. "No," he shakes his head. "I'm up now, it's okay. We should talk."

"About?" I ask, concerned.

"What your father said about his plan with the DEA. I need to give the recording I took last night to the embassy today."

My eyes widen. "You recorded the entire thing?"

He turns slightly, allowing me to see the profile of his face. "I left out the end once I realized what was happening."

Sheepishly, I press for more information. "But you listened to it?"

"I'm sorry, I had to. I had to make sure that was all."

I shrug my shoulders, acting nonchalant. "It's okay. I couldn't turn him down. He wanted to go to the bathroom with me, but he would've seen my wire and—"

"I would've come in guns blazing," he laughs. The coffee machine beeps, my eyes following him as he grabs two mugs. "You didn't really seem to want to say no, did you?"

"No," my throat tightens from bashfulness. "I care about him. And he's—"

"Hot?" he chuckles. "I think that was what you told him."

"Well, yeah," I giggle, "but he's also the first client to actually make me feel good."

Javier shifts, shaking his head. "We're getting off topic." He hands me a hot cup of coffee as he turns. "I don't have cream or sugar, sweetheart, I'm sorry."

"It's fine." I sip the steaming bitter drink, my eyes on his. "So, what's my next mission, then?"

He leans against the counter with one hand as the other guides his mug to his lips. "Are you willing to see your father again today?"

"Well, yeah, but he won't tell me anything. He never has and never will."

"Would your client?"

My brows furrow as I set down my cup. "I can't use him like that, Javi."

"It's not using him if he tells you freely. He very obviously cares for you, y/n. Just try to get it out of him. Your dad has already implicated himself for life for what he told you last night. I just want to know what he plans to do to us. We can't take him down just yet. He's not our biggest target."

"Escobar is," I nod. "I've met him and his comrades once. I had to service a few of them."

Javier shifts, sipping more of his coffee. "Escobar's dangerous, y/n. I don't want you going around him unless you have to."

"He almost never comes around anyway," I shrug. "I can go see my father in a few hours. I'll just say that I stopped over to get some sun by the lake."

He chuckles. "Yeah, I saw he lives on that hill. It looks nice."

"It's beautiful," I smile. "It's just him that ruins the entire place. We've only been in Colombia for a few months, but that's been my favorite spot to just be alone. It's relaxing."

"Have you seen Colombia's beaches?"

I nod excitedly. "Once, yes. They're beautiful. The ocean has always pulled me in. It reminds me of back home with my mom when we'd go to the beach."

"You're from Florida, right?" he asks softly.

"Yes," I smile. "God, I honestly hated it there. It was so fucking hot and infested with these fat ass fire ants that hurt like hell to get bit by. But nothing topped the beaches. Especially in The Keys where there's the bluest of waters, and the beautiful, vibrant fish beneath you as you swim."

Javier's head rests on his propped up hand as he listens to me, his dreamy brown eyes taking in every word.

"And my mom and I loved to go together. My dad always had some excuse not to join us, so it was our own special thing. I never realized until now that the lake reminded me of those times. Things were so much easier."

"How did she die?" he asks with a softened gaze.

"Cancer," I answer solemnly. "It's been less than a year that she's been gone. It just happened so fast and nothing could've saved her." My brows furrow with ire. "My dad didn't even cry. I feel like he was relieved when she died, like he was just waiting to come here to further his drug endeavors. I had no idea what he did until after she died. He was a lawyer over in the states and made good money, but I guess it wasn't enough."

"It never is for these people," he shakes his head, reaching his hand out to stroke mine that rests on the counter. "I'm sorry, y/n."

"You know, I haven't cried since she passed away. I never let myself." My eyes meet his, "Until last night. Thank you for being there for me. I don't normally cry, and especially not in front of strangers."

Javier laughs lightly, his thumb stroking the outside of my hand. "You deserve to have someone there to hold you. You've been through a lot, and you've gone through it all alone. I'm sorry you had to."

I shrug. "That's life."

"And we're not strangers anymore. You know me, and I know you."

"Almost everything you know about me was obtained through some sort of database. I only know that you're a damned good liar, and a DEA agent. Are you even from Chile?"

Javier laughs, flashing his charming smile. "I am from Chile. I grew up there and moved to Texas when I was really little. My parents really wanted me to be a doctor or lawyer, but I always wanted to be a cop. Being a DEA agent sounded like it was the best fit for me. I enjoy the action and saving people in the process."

"How admirable," I giggle. "I always wanted to do something really great with my life, but I never went to college. I worked as a barista before my dad yanked me out to Colombia to be a prostitute for extra income."

He shakes his head with disapproval. "After all of this, I'll personally make sure you can go back to the states and be whatever you want."

"I can't go back. I have nobody there waiting for me. Sure there's aunts and uncles somewhere, but I don't know them. How do I move on after selling my body for months on end? I had only slept with one man before I came to Colombia."

Javier's thumb still swivels around my skin. "One? Really?"

"What, does that surprise you?"

He chuckles shyly. "Well, yeah. You're—you."

"I'm me? What does that mean?"

Javier backs away, breaking the contact that I've throughly been enjoying. "It's just odd that a woman who thinks like you and looks the way you do, has only been with one person."

"I wasn't into just sleeping around. I fell in love once and slept with him hundreds of times, but it didn't feel right to sleep with anyone I wasn't in love with," emotion tears at my words. "But that's in the past. Sex doesn't have a lot of meaning to me anymore."

"It doesn't mean anything when you're with your mysterious client?" he smirks at me, his voice playful.

I giggle, shrugging my shoulders. "He's different. There's a connection there, I guess."

Javier smiles, nodding. "Sex is good regardless, but it's better when you actually care about the person."

"I see that. He's the first one I've slept with in Colombia that I've actually cared about. He's always been protective of me, and I never knew why."

"He likes you," he says as he walks away into his bedroom, my body immediately following him, "and it's not difficult to see why."

"You're sweet, Javi."

He bends down into his dresser, grabbing clothes for himself. "I'm honest," he chuckles, "well, I'm honest about everything except for my first introduction to you."

"It's fine," I laugh. "You did what you had to do."

"But I've meant everything else," he eyes me seriously. "All of it."

"So, you did want me?"

Javier sighs as he slides on a shirt. "Yes."

I look down to the floor, not able to gaze at him. "But not now?"

His feet make their way into my line of sight, forcing me to look up at him. "I still do."

He's so close to me that it makes me feel like I'm suffocating, and the only way to help me breathe is by attaching my lips to his. I go to lean in, but he stops me.

"You're living here, cariño. I don't want to make things complicated for you."

"For me?" I laugh. "My life stays complicated. You won't be hurting it, I promise you."

He chuckles, gripping my face with his right hand as he leans his forehead against mine. "I can't. You're my informant."

"You've never slept with an informant before?"

He's quiet for a moment, laughing slightly. "Okay, you got me there."

"Exactly," I say, my hands making their way around his midsection. "Take me, Javi. I want you."

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, stepping away from me. "I really can't."

With an exaggerated sigh, I walk away, landing myself onto the couch to sit with my arms crossed. My mind is buzzing with desire for Javier. He's the first man to ever tell me no, and it gives me a feeling that I don't at all enjoy.

After a rather long and tense morning with Javier, I drive to my dad's house with a wire once again taped to my chest. Steve dropped off some of my things before I left, allowing me to wear comfortable clothing instead of a tight dress like normal. I'm sporting a loose shirt and jean shorts, not wanting to be uncomfortable at all in an extremely uncomfortable situation.

Both Javier and Steve follow me to my father's house, my nervousness increasing at the both of them having to listen to my exchanges with Harry. Part of me wants to purposefully sleep with him just to get a rise out of Javier, but would it even work? Does he care enough to be jealous of hearing me with him?

I park beside my dad's car, stepping out to walk through the front door. To my surprise, my dad and Harry are directly in the foyer, looking just as off-guard at my entrance as I am at them being right in front of me.

"Y/n?" my father asks, Harry also eyeing me.

"Hi, I just stopped by to get some sun by the lake before I go in today. Is that okay?"

He nods. "Yeah, I don't care. I'm just surprised. You never come around this often."

"I guess I was just shook up by what happened and wanted to be by someone familiar."

My father sighs. "That's fine."

"Did you find someone to stay with?" Harry asks.

"Yes, one of the girls I work with."

"Will you write down the address for me?"

My eyes dart to the side. "Uh, sure."

My dad walks away. "Harry, I'll be in my office. Come talk to me whenever you're done."

Fuck, well his name is out to the DEA now.

"Will you come to the lake with me?" I ask him sweetly, giving the best begging eyes I can muster.

He smiles at me, clearly caving to my temptations. "Yeah. Just let me get some paper and a pen for that address."

"No, come with me first," I urge, not sure how to fabricate an address for him.

My hand reaches out for his and he takes it, both of us walking through the house and out the back door. We walk past the pool, my fingers gripping onto him as I practically drag him away.

"Y/n, slow down," he laughs. "What's so urgent?"

When we get to the lake, I'm immediately on him, twirling my tongue with his that tastes like toothpaste just as mine does.

"Darling," he says gently between kisses, "I can't be long. I have to meet with your dad."

"I'm worried about you," I say, doing my best to get information out of him. "My dad said you were going after the DEA. What did he mean? Is it dangerous?"

He pushes my hair behind my ear, smiling down at me. "Don't worry, it's okay. We'll be smart about it."

"I don't want you to hurt anybody."

"I won't. I can't say the same for your dad, though."

I shake my head, leaning in to his touch. "Why do you even work for him? You're such a good man. You can do so much better than this."

His brows furrow at me. "What else would you have me do? Work in a bakery back in England?"

"I don't care. I just don't want you getting hurt or in trouble." I pull his face to mine. "I care about you, Harry."

He kisses me sweetly, briefly tangling his tongue with mine. "I've always cared about you, y/n. You got dragged into this life and you don't deserve it."

"But you do?"

"I've done bad things, y/n. I've—"

I cut him off with a kiss, not wanting him to further incriminate himself. "Just shut up and kiss me."

My hands work at his belt, quickly sliding my right hand into his boxers to rub his length, feeling him harden in my palm. He slides off my shorts, going to lift my shirt off but I stop him, placing his hand between my legs instead.

"I want to taste myself on your fingers," I say breathlessly.

Harry lets out a small groan as he pushes my panties to the side, easing two fingers into me with a soft coo.

"You drive me insane, y/n," he grunts. "Can't believe how tight you are. Squeeze me every time, don't you?"

I nod, displaying my tongue for him to push his fingers against it.

He does just that, a throaty moan escaping me as I taste the tangy arousal on his skin.

"Lay down," I command gently, resulting in a small laugh from him.

He's on his back on the grass, his cock standing to attention above the lowered waist of his pants. I ease myself down, crying out towards the sky as he fills me, hitting that perfect spot inside.

"Fuck," he groans, making me clench around him. "Such a perfect cunt, baby."

I lean down and kiss him firmly, immediately riding him quickly with no abandon, his mouth slack as he groans. He puts his hands on my hips, but I grab them, moving them above his head and pinning them there.

"Let me please you," I say against his lips. "Just want to please you, Harry."

"God, that's all you do, y/n." His lips smush against mine.

"Don't even wanna cum this time," my voice breaks from how roughly I'm slamming my hips against him. "Just want you to."

"Jesus fuck," he groans, his eyes fixed on where we connect. "I love to watch you."

"Then watch me until you cum, baby. Watch how I take all of you."

Harry lets out a broken moan, his eyes briefly squeezing shut as I feel his cock twitch inside of me. "Fuck, y/n, I'm gonna cum."

I instantly hop off of him, dropping down to take him into my mouth, tasting my arousal on him as I feel his release spilling against my tongue and throat. His ringed hand grips my hair tightly as he cries out, his hips thrusting up a bit as he finishes.

I moan, swallowing him as I gently tuck him back into his slacks. "Nobody could ever fuck me as good as you do," I say purposefully, hoping Javier is still listening.

Harry gestures me up with a finger, a satisfied smirk on his face. "C'mere." He pulls me in for a tongue-filled kiss, shifting his body on top of mine. "You're amazing, y/n."

"You're just happy," I laugh, Harry joining me.

He nudges his nose against mine. "No, I mean it. In every way, you're amazing."

Guilt wells up in my chest and I feel my eyes begin to water, my head turning away from him in hopes he doesn't see. Javier broke the dam, and now the tears will fall whenever they please.

"Hey," Harry says with concern. "Look at me, what's wrong?" He gently turns my face to his.

"What are you doing to the DEA, Harry?" my voice breaks, tears sliding down my cheeks.

"Your dad wants to kill the two that came from America," he says solemnly. "I've advised against it several times, but he doesn't listen to me, obviously."

"Killing DEA agents is strictly forbidden. Is he an idiot?"

"Even Escobar said not to, but your dad is doing it anyway."

My mouth hardens, gazing up at Harry's beautiful green eyes. "Does he know where they're staying?"

"Not yet, but he's going to find out."

"How?"

"He's hoping to get someone inside. So many of the cops here are owned by Escobar, but none of them are owned by your dad yet."

I swallow, gripping onto his loose shirt. "Just promise me you won't get involved."

"What your dad does, I have to follow."

"No," I say firmly with emotion staining my response. "Please, Harry."

"What has gotten into you, baby? Why are you so worried?"

I turn my head as the tears flow, moving my body to sit up, sliding my shorts back on. "I have to go."

Harry stands from the grass. "Where are you going?"

"Work," I answer shortly. "Just please protect yourself, Harry. Promise me."

"Y/n, what are you talking—"

"Promise me!" I turn, tears staining my cheeks.

"If I don't go wherever he tells me to, he'll kill me, y/n. You know this."

"Then leave and don't come back. Get yourself out of this shit!"

Harry shrugs with softened, watery eyes. "I can't."

"Tell me that you won't hurt the DEA agents and that it'll only be my dad."

He goes to walk towards me but I back away.

"Say it," I say firmly.

"I won't hurt them," he nods his head. "I promise."

I lean up and give him one last kiss, my fingers fitting into his hair. "You better keep your fucking promise."

Harry goes to his wallet to give me money, but I stop him, shaking my head.

"What's wrong, y/n? I've never seen you cry before. Did something happen?"

With shaky hands, I lift up my shirt, revealing the wire taped to my body. "No, nothing happened," I answer flatly.

Harry backs away with an unreadable expression. He goes for the gun in his pants and pulls it out, keeping it pointed towards the grass.

We stand there staring at each other, my hand dropping the hem of my shirt as I keep my eyes on his gun.

"Please don't," I mouth, raising both of my hands up above me.

Harry looks around nervously, turning his head in all directions before looking back to me. "I'll keep my promise," he says firmly. "And you have to promise me something, too."

"What?" my voice shakes.

"That you'll keep yourself safe if I'm ever not around to protect you."

"I promise," I cry.

He swallows, sweat covering his face. "Can I walk you to your car?"

I nod, dropping my hands as he tucks his gun back into his pants.

We walk back to my car, Harry being behind me the entire time making me incredibly nervous. I'm expecting him to just shoot me in the back of the head, and everything will suddenly go black for me, but it doesn't.

I open my car door, carefully pulling off the wire to toss it inside and close it in.

"How could you?" he asks with hurt etched into his face.

"They trapped me," I say, ashamed. "But I never told them anything about you. I don't want you getting in trouble, only my dad. He's a fucking lunatic, Harry. Please get out of here."

He shakes his head. "It's too late! They've heard everything I've said, y/n!" he shouts. "I'm going to prison for the rest of my life."

"No," I cry, wrapping him into a tight embrace. "I'll try to have them cut you a deal or something. You're a good guy, Harry. You're not like the rest of them."

He reluctantly hugs me back, his hands falling around me. "Are you safe?" he asks lowly.

I nod into his chest. "I'm staying with one of the DEA agents since my apartment was raided." I look up to him with blurry eyes. "Please don't let my dad hurt him. If he finds out I'm there, he'll kill me too."

Harry sighs, taking my lips against his softly as he leans his forehead against mine. "God, I know. I'll never let him hurt you. I'd kill him before that happened."

"Please don't tell him anything, Harry. Please," I beg, gripping onto him tightly.

"Shh," he says gently. "I won't, baby. I won't." He sighs heavily, "I'm sorry you're wrapped up in this. You deserve better."

"It's not your fault, Harry."

"Thank you for telling me the truth," he kisses me again. "I'm happy you care about me."

"I care about you a lot." I shake my head, “I've done everything I can to keep you out of it, but you're right there in it. I'm sorry."

"You did your best, y/n. You're right, I shouldn't be involved. It isn't your fault."

"I can trust you, right?" I ask cautiously as I pull away from him.

"Of course you can," he says sincerely. "I'd never let anything happen to you. I just have a lot to think about."

"I still have to come around because of my dad."

He nods. "I know."

"And you won't want me anymore?"

Harry chuckles, pulling my face up in both hands to kiss me sweetly. "I'll always want you."

As I leave my dad's, I look in the rearview mirror, watching Harry disappear only for Javier's Jeep to appear shortly after. The wind whips through my hair, but I don't find the beauty in it as I normally would. I'm incredibly melancholy, wishing I could just fly myself back to the states where I would live homeless somewhere in Florida. I'd take that over this hell in Colombia any day.

At Javier's apartment, he looks inside my car, seeing the discarded wire in my passenger seat as he shakes his head, Steve following him as I step out.

Without saying a word, I walk into his place, Javier pacing back and forth as Steve gives me a disapproving look.

"Why the fuck did you take off your wire?!" Javier shouts, but I ignore him, closing myself in the bathroom as I start the shower.

I can hear faint shouting over the steady stream, my hands numbly stripping off my clothes before stepping in beneath the water, sitting onto the shower floor to let it run over me.

My knees are tucked up to my chest as I hold myself, feeling all of my emotions come pouring out of me, a sob breaking out of my throat. It's embarrassing how loudly I'm crying, and I know they can probably hear me, but I don't care. This is my time to just be alone and let it all out without anybody to hold me or tell me it's gonna be okay.

I'm not sure how long I'm sitting on the tub floor crying before a soft knock comes to the door, my eyes aching from my sobs.

"Hey, y/n," I hear Steve saying gently over the water. "When you get out, we have to talk. You're not in trouble or anything, we just need to go over a few things, okay?"

I don't answer, continuing to sit here feeling sorry for myself.

After I've actually mustered the strength to bathe myself, I get out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my body and leaving the bathroom. Steve and Javier both bounce up from the couch, their hands on their hips like two disappointed fathers.

"If you're gonna scold me, just fucking do it," I say bitterly.

"We're not gonna scold you," Steve says gently, looking over to Javier who looks beyond pissed off. "Right?"

He nods, his eyes dropping to the floor.

"We just want to ask you why you took your wire off."

"Because I told him I'm a rat," I shrug. "And I urged him to get the hell out of there."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, hijo de puta!" Javier shouts, walking away from Steve and I to move further into his living room.

"Why did you tell him?" Steve asks calmly, still not looking in the slightest bit thrilled.

"Because I care about him. He's not anything like the rest of the narcos. He could've shot and killed me when I showed him the wire, but he didn't. He said he'd rather kill my father than have anything happen to me. That's his boss!"

"He's just using you for an easy fucking lay, y/n!" Javier yells at me.

"Hey!" Steve turns to shout back at him. "Control yourself or step outside, Peña."

He shakes his head, continuing to pace behind Steve.

"Does he know where you're staying?"

"He knows I'm staying with one of you, he just doesn't know who or where. I wouldn't put you guys in danger like that."

Steve nods. "Okay, that's good at least. All we have to do is make sure that we can gather enough evidence before he buys someone out and they tell him where we're staying." He shakes his head, "I have a wife here, y/n. You can't be putting us in jeopardy like this just because you trust somebody. You can't trust these guys."

"I can trust Harry," I say firmly. "I know I can."

"Yeah and when one of us ends up dead it'll be on your fucking hands," Javier spits.

"All right, Peña, get out," Steve says firmly, turning to glare at him.

He shakes his head, sighing. "No, I want to know what else happened."

"That was it," I say with a scowl, my face softening once I turn back to Steve. "Can you cut him a deal at all? Please."

"I don't know, y/n. He's said some pretty bad shit."

"All I'm asking is for you to try, please. He can do time, but not life. He doesn't deserve it at all."

He sighs. "It would be up to the ambassador, and she might hate narcos more than anybody."

"Fuck," I curse. "Just please try, okay?"

Steve shrugs. "If I can get proof that he's not shit, then I'll see what I can do, okay?"

I nod. "Thank you."

"Am I able to leave without you being a fucking dick, Javi?" Steve asks sharply.

Javier nods, his eyes on the floor. "Go take the recordings to the office. It's up to you whether or not you'd like to edit the second one."

"Edit," Steve chuckles. "You mean, bypass all the sex? Sure, I'll see what we can do." He gives me a reassuring nod before he leaves, my lips barely twitching up into a smile.

"You put us all in danger, y/n," Javier says harshly. "What the fuck got into you, huh?"

I glare at him. "Harry did. Does that bother you, Agent Peña?"

"No," he says gruffly. "I don't care who you fuck."

"Yeah?" my eyes stay narrowed. "Tell yourself that when you're picturing me the next time you're getting off alone." I walk away into his bedroom, practically fuming with anger and frustration.

Javier charges into the room, making me turn to face him as his lips roughly seal to mine. A gasp catches in my throat, the irritation I feel still coursing throughout my body.

"You're a fucking brat," he says as he fumbles with his jeans, his mouth connecting to mine again.

Our tongues collide in a furious, heated battle, my hands pulling his shirt up and off his body.

"Shut up," I scoff, my brows furrowed angrily.

He yanks my towel off, tossing it to the side as his hands run up my back, twisting into my wet hair as our fiery kiss continues. I push down his briefs, feeling him kick himself out of them as we fall onto his bed, his weight pushing me into the mattress.

His tongue doesn't leave mine, his right hand sliding down my body to slip between my soaking folds, a small moan pushing past my lips.

"You're a mess," he grunts, rubbing my clit in quick, firm circles. "Tell me you didn't think of me when you fucked him today."

"I didn't," I lie, my eyebrows fitted together with pleasure.

"You're a fucking liar," he rasps, his lips pushing to mine roughly as he continues to rub me. "How badly did you want to moan my name? You wished it was my cock instead."

"No," I lie again, my mouth hanging open as my back arches towards him. "Fuck."

"You think I didn't realize that telling him nobody could fuck you better was for me? I knew it was for me the moment it left those pretty lips, baby."

"You're—" I groan, my entrance clenching around nothing, "fucking delusional."

He chuckles darkly, moving his fingers faster. "Don't cum then."

My eyes squeeze shut, my hips grinding against his fingers as he pleases me with expertise. "You can't make me, anyway."

Javier laughs lowly, his lips meeting mine with rough, aggressive passion. "You're lying to me and yourself, cariño. Give it up."

The way he rubs me feels so good that I squeeze my lips together to suppress my moan, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of pleasing me.

"God," I cry out involuntarily, my high barreling forward. My breathing becomes more ragged as my thighs begin to slightly shake, my orgasm at the very brink. "Fuck!" I pant.

Javier stops rubbing me, making me whimper out loudly as he gazes down at me. "Beg."

My brows fit together, my swollen, desperate clit throbbing in search of his fingers. "Javi," I breathe, my eyes meeting his.

They seem to have darkened, going from their deep brown to a treacherous black. "Fucking beg, y/n." He starts to rub me in slow, painful swirls.

"Fuck you," I curse, the pleasure of him touching me again twisting with the hurt of his pace.

He laughs, his tongue swiping up the shell of my ear as he teases me. "You are the biggest brat I've ever fucked in my life."

"You haven't fucked me—"

My words are cut off by Javier easing himself inside of me, our moans twisting together in a beautiful medley of pleasure. Tears spring to my eyes from the relief of him, but also from the way he stretches and fills me completely.

His hips move slowly, easily dragging out only to be pushed gently back in, keeping up with the devilish pace of his fingers. I'm in heaven and agony all at the same time, my fingers flying to his back to keep me grounded.

Javier kisses me gently, pulling away to rest his forehead against mine. "Feel so fucking good."

"Javi," I groan, my bud aching from the torture. "Please," I finally cave.

"Please what, baby? Tell me."

"Let me cum."

He smiles. "Who fucks you better?" His fingers pick up their pace.

"You," I mewl, writhing beneath him.

"Again."

"You do, Javi."

"I what, y/n?"

"You fuck me better!" I cry out, the sound of my arousal audible from his strokes.

"You're fucking right I do." He gives me a sharp thrust, sending a delicious ache through my stomach that makes me scream with pure, raw pleasure.

"Please," I beg, nearing my orgasm again. "Please fuck me harder, please."

Javier picks up his pace, his fingers sloppily rubbing me as the tip of his cock nudges that perfect, blissful spot inside of me that makes me clench down on his thick cock.

"Let me feel you, cum, y/n. You know I'm fucking you too good. Let it out. Show me how good I make you feel."

His words are my undoing, and I orgasm intensely, crying his name out into the room as my walls flutter around him, a strained grunt catching in his throat as he rubs me through my release.

"Such a good girl," he coos. "Sound so pretty when you cum. That was the only sound I could think about all night."

My nails unsheathe from the skin on his back, my body trembling beneath him as he moves his fingers away, wrapping his strong arms beneath me. He kisses me gently as his hips rock into me roughly, the sound of us meeting sending an echoing wet clap throughout his bedroom.

He runs his beautiful hooked nose along mine, the sweat from his forehead making my own skin become dewy. He holds me closely, fixing his lips to mine one last time before he pulls away, gazing down at me as his fingers dig into my hips.

"Take me so good," he groans with his head thrown back, adjacent with the ceiling. "Grip me so tight."

"Cum in me, Javi, please," I moan, my hands pawing at his chest. I need him closer.

"Oh, cariño," Javier grunts lowly. "You ever let anybody fill you up before?"

I shake my head, biting my lip. "No."

His thrusts speed up, his one hand on the side of my thigh as the other wraps around the back of my neck, pulling me up to kiss him as he leans down. His tongue drags along mine, our moans being caught in each other's mouths as I feel his hips stutter, his cock throbbing as he whines into the kiss.

I can feel every spurt into me, the hot release and the throb of him making me groan. My hands have returned to his back, his tongue twisting with mine as he lets out a long, satisfied sigh.

My thighs are trembling, his softening length still inside of me as he keeps our mouths together, his hand coming up to grip the side of my face gently.

"You're a pain in the culo, cariño."

I giggle, gazing up at him as his face pulls away from mine. "And you're a dick."

Javier laughs, withdrawing from me as he turns, laying beside me on the disheveled bed. "Yeah, I was jealous."

"Mhmm," I nod, slowly flipping to lay on my front. "As I thought."

He smiles, turning onto his side to press a soft kiss against my forehead. "I know why you told him. You're just trying to protect him because you care about him."

"I really do." I watch his smile fade a bit, and I lean over to fit my lips against his. "And I care about you a lot, too."

Javier flips me onto my back, his torso on top of mine as he slowly, sensually kisses me. "I care about you, too, y/n."

"Then don't fucking yell at me anymore," I tease, resulting in a small chuckle from him.

"I won't."

My eyes are on his, admiring their deep chocolate shade as I let out a sigh of contentment, taking in the beauty that is Javier Peña.

"What?" he asks with a smirk. "Are you wondering if I have another round in me?"

"Now I am," I giggle, Javier joining me. "But I was just looking at you. You're beautiful."

"That's the first time I've ever been called that," he cocks his head as he blinks at me with a smirk. "But thank you." He runs the outside of his finger down my cheek, stroking it gently. "You're stunning, y/n."

My eyes soften with sadness as I gaze at him, his own face soon reflecting mine. "What do I do about Harry? He's the only income I get without going to the whorehouse."

Javier's mouth fits into a hard line. "You do what you need to to keep up appearances. But don't do anything you're not comfortable with."

"I like Harry, but I don't want to ruin this with you."

He grins, kissing me gently. "It won't be ruined. I just might have Steve listen instead."

"Javi," I giggle, "no, I can't. I don't want to do that to you. I wouldn't want to hear you fucking someone else."

He shrugs. "It's okay, y/n. We'll just get through it."

"How many informants have you slept with?" I ask curiously with a smirk.

Javier sits up as he chuckles, going to the side of his bed to light a cigarette. "That's classified DEA information, sweetheart."

I crawl over to him, sitting behind him on my knees as I rub his shoulders. "So, that means all of them," I laugh.

He groans from my touch, leaning his head against my arm as he blows out some smoke. "Almost, yeah. I love women. Do you judge me?"

"Yeah, the prostitute judges you," I reply sarcastically. "No, Javi. I don't care. I love that you love women. It makes you more romantic than you'd like to admit."

"Ooo, don't know about that," he chuckles, inhaling another drag. "I'm forty and unmarried. That pretty much tells you how good I am with the whole commitment thing."

"It's not because of your job?" I ask, continuing to knead his shoulders. "Wait, you're forty?"

Javier cackles, a cloud of smoke coming out as he does. "Does that bother you?"

"No, actually. It's pretty hot," I tease, leaning down to nibble on his earlobe. "I knew you were older than me, but never would've guessed forty."

He turns his head to kiss me, his tongue tasting of tobacco. "One of the reasons I'm not married is because of my job, yes. But I also just never settled down enough to find someone, I guess."

"Well, maybe you will one day."

He chuckles. "Maybe."

****

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #smut #yn fanfic #pedro pascal #javier pena fic #javier pena smut #javier pena #narcos fic #narcos smut

61 notes · View notes