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harryleatherfit · 9 months

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Downtown🥃4.8k

Javier Peña x Brat Bartender Fem! Reader

based off of this request ||

also a 50 follower milestone🍋

Working at a bar in downtown Medellín, a biker gang comes in for their usual drink, and your boss has called someone in to help you with drinks. Nico, the head of the gang doesn’t like another man around you… but little does he know that you’re little friend Javier Peña is taking care of you elsewhere.

warnings: mentions of gangs, mentions of men abducting women, SHITTY TRANSLATED SPANISH, alcohol consumption, smoking, brat, brat tamer (if you squinttt) heightened senses, fucking in public, p in v (uncovered but pulls out), oral f receiving

word count: 4.8K

authors note: i don’t know any spanish, so i really hope my translate app had my back on this one 🍀🍀 also im rewatching narcos and myyyy god i need to write more javier LIKE CMONNN

taglist: @beefrobeefcal

One Shot Playlist

Lust for Life- Lana Del Ray

Solid Liquid Gas- Eartheater

Stereo Love- Edward Maya & Vika Jigulina

🪩Main Master List🪩

Running late to your shift at the club, per usual. You didn’t know how you always managed to at least run 5 minutes late, but tonight you were making sure you looked at least somewhat presentable.

Your boss had let you know that someone else was also coming in to help you at the bar, tonight was when a motorcycle group would come in and spend the entirety of the night, drinking their lives away.

You didn’t mind any of the men, but you needed the extra help with serving them, along with any other college kids or any other people that were gonna drink the night away. The club you worked at was specifically known for its nightlife.

Working in Medellin has been the best experience of your life. The city was beautiful, and by working at the club downtown, you soaked in every bit you could get. You became a people person and your anxiety of being alone had subsided, when your boss had hired you, he saw potential, and he knew he was doing right by hiring you.

You didn’t know what other business your boss was getting into, but you figured this club was a coverup. You never asked any questions, but you figured that’s what he liked most about you. But sincerely it wasn’t your place to care. You never knew if he was rolling around with the police or the cartels, all you knew was that he was a respected man, and it didn’t really matter as long as he paid you well.

Late at night, when you had to close, your boss would tell you to leave early, as he had some ‘business to deal with’ but you never got to see with who. Maybe one day you’d get to see, but for now you had to fucking sprint into the back of the bar to clock in.

You open the door back in an alleyway, wafting a draft of club air- humid and loud. You duck into the dark staff room quickly setting your stuff down and getting your work clothes on, not caring possibly what you could look like now, as long as your hair and makeup stayed intact. Rushing past the cooks, saying hi instead asking how everyone's day was, to finally getting to the door to burst behind the bar. Immediately, he bumps into you.

“Fuck sorry.” He gasps, whiskey bottles in hand. He gets a good look at you and stops to make sure you’re okay.

You realize this isn’t just someone your boss called in, he fucking called in Javier Peña, the DEA agent. You knew who he was, you thought you were pretty out of the loop from what was happening in Columbia, but everyone knew who this man was. Face of every newspaper with his partner.

“You’re okay,” You stutter, “Sorry I’m late.”

“Javier.” He sets a bottle down to shake your hand.

“I know who you are.” You tell him your name, analyzing what the bar looks like, checking out to see how busy the club was. You didn’t think about it until now, but you had seen Javier in the bar late at night a while ago with your boss, tucked away in the corner. This is who he does business with.

“Nice to meet you, Manny just wanted me to tell you that you can leave early tonight and I’ll close.” He rasps over the loud music.

“So you’re who he does business with, didn’t think it’d be with you.” You look at him innocently, but once you mention anything about business his whole demeanor changes. You look down to his waist band and see a gun.

“And why's that?” He asks, tilting his head. He’s only known you a solid minute and he’s already feisty.

“I don’t know, he’s quite reserved.” You blink, “And Manny’s, well Manny.”

He tuts with his mouth, “I think he’s doing business with the right man, no?” His lips purse into a frown.

“Well I’m at least pleased it’s with you and not the latter, if that makes you happy.” You answer. “But I would suggest you’re not only here to help me tonight, you’re here to find someone.”

“You’re smart, we’re off to a good start then princess.” He chuckles, “These drinks won’t make themselves.” All you can do is stare at him, at least you’re in good company, he can protect you if anything potentially went wrong tonight.

You go to the line, already seeing that he had set up for you, you look out to the room and college kids are already losing their face, the looks of ecstasy filling their bodies. He must’ve made countless drinks before you had gotten there, at least he knows what he’s doing.

“Manny, tell you about that bike gang coming in tonight?” And then it dawned on you, as he shifted toward you with a different expression than before, Jaiver’s here for them, or for someone.

“Yes he did, they’ve come in before.” You look at him, “Thats what you’re looking for?”

“Possibly.” His low base refracts out, “Just have to confirm something.”

You pause, inhaling your surroundings, patching out a deep patchouli and cashmere. It was so intoxicating you could believe you were still standing, you look to your side and Javier’s grabbing his jacket to put on.

You now realize how tall he is, his smell, his leather jacket. He pulls out a lighter and pack of smokes, his low rise jeans with his boots. Who really was this man?

“What?” He smirks.

“Nothing.” You shake your head, waking you up from your daydream, going to the line to take some orders. This man was more than you expected, you only had to work with him for a couple more hours and then you could go home. It wasn’t that you didn’t dislike him immediately, but his presence was so domineering, being around him you felt no power and it scared you.

He pours a few drinks “What's someone like you doing here, don’t think you quite belong here princess..” He pulls out a cigarette, popping it in his mouth so he can work and smoke dually.

“And who says I don’t belong here? You?” You edge on. Your eyes keep wondering to his gun.

He stares at you, not knowing how to respond. Tension already filling you both.

“I don’t know sweetheart, “ He pours, “Surrounded by a world of trouble. Men that do unspeakable things to women, any moment the wrong man could come in and see you…”

“And that’s why I have you tonight.” You smile, you point at his gun, and looks at your fingers, “Please Javier, I’d do just fine without you.”

You had never thought about it that way, not in the cartel way, but you were always aware of your surroundings working in a prominent man's workplace. You were aware of everything 24/7, that was your job for Manny.

He nods his head, your short response shutting him up. The conversation ended and you both continued making drinks, serving customers, closing out tabs.

“How long have you been in Columbia? You’re Amerian no?” You ask.

“Couple years, trying to catch the son of bitch Escobar, not gonna tattle on me are you?” He puffs out.

You simmer, each word he lets out heats you up, a raving fire petrifying a forest in your lower stomach. If you had skin contact with him, you’d faint.

You laugh, “No, unless you gave me a reason to. Finish those drinks Javier.”

He huffs, the lights of the club are making his face glow, you dance around each other, grabbing more bottles of alcohol. Lining cups and cutting limes. You get closer to him, “Do you like Columbia?”

“Yes,” His voice drops closer to your ear, “Las mujeres son otra cosa.” [Women are something else]

“Just the women, nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

“¿Por qué nada más? Not your job? ¿Ni siquiera tu pareja? Murphy right?” [Why nothing else] [Not even your partner?]

“That little shithead? Si, Murphy.”

“He’s good no, I’ve heard some of the women around here talk about how good he fucks.”

“Sweetheart, that's where you’re wrong, mistaking him for me.”

“Really? I doubt that.” You bite, anything to rile him up. Of course you’ve heard how could Javier Pena can fuck, you’ve heard it around town, from your girl friends he’s a man whore. But how good really was he? Watching the battle in his dominant head made your stomach churn.

He closes in on you behind the table, “And who have you fucked?” Such a dirty question coming from his mouth, damping your panties, staying away from any professional decency at all. If you could in front of all these people you would jump his dick immediately, but you had a job to do.

“C’mon princess, you can tell me. Who have you fucked?”

Momentarily after you hesitate your response, his body is so close to yours you could feel the buckle of his jeans rest on your stomach. You’re backed behind the pivot of the wall where little to no people could see you. “If you’re too shy, I promise I don’t bite, this can go on all night sweetheart.”

You take this moment to grind against him, taking the risk to feel his bulge, tension never feeling this good. You didn’t want to be any ordinary fuck to Javier, you wanted to fuck him up so he could never go back. All he does is stare down at you, not believing what is happening.

“I’m not shy Javier, I’m hungry.” You whisper, tip toeing to his ear. You slither the cigarette from his hands, taking a drag. The burn breaks you alive, you move toward his mouth, locking lips and blowing the smoke into his mouth. He catches on and sucks it all in, his chocolate doe eyes never letting go of yours. The smoke flows through his nostrils, not ever has smoking ever been this erotic in your life. You needed more.

In the corner of the tiny room, you see a group of men walk through the doors, instantly knowing it’s the biker men. They were all wearing leather jackets, every single one of them covered in tattoos, every single one of them snaking through the crowd to come sit at the bar. Before you leave the secretive crevice he grabs your arm

“This isn’t over sweetheart, starting something don’t think you can finish.”

“I’ll finish, Javier.”

“Mi amor, you’re here again!” Nico, the head of the group greets you. He never failed to say hi to you when they came in, engaging with you was a task for him, every time he would drag a conversation with you. Trying to lure you to go out with him after you got off. He was your best tipper so you couldn’t complain, and he wasn’t horrible looking but you truly had no interest, it was all fun and play.

“Yes Nico, I’m always here.” You shake your head, “Absinthe and ginger ale?”

“You always know.” He laughs, taking off his jacket. All of his friends join them and Javier goes to take their orders.

“Hey sugar, why don’t you introduce me to your friend over there?” He taps his fingers on the table. This catches Javi’s attention looking over, a wave of goosebumps swallows your body, based off of his look this is exactly who he was looking for.

“And what’s your name..” Nico wisps out.

“Chandler.” He lies, you look at him, his eyes enlarge, shh.

“Well Chandler, serve me and my guys, don’t make my girl too busy I wanna talk to her.”

Nothing too new, just sweet talk Nico, fill him up to the brim with alcohol, swipe his card and take the cash he gives you.

Javier locks contact with you, but you set your stuff down, batting your eyelashes at Nico, this’ll teach our pretty boy.

“How’ve you been Nico? What have you and the boys been up to since I’ve last seen you.”

“Ahora cariño no puedo decirte que.” [Now, honey, you know I can’t tell you that] He smirks. Nico never told you what he did, but all you knew was that his group drove motorcycles around town together. Putting two and two together, it would make sense why Javier had a suspicion about them, either way they may know Pablo.

You take control, “But a guy like you needs to distress, have fun, dance everything off.”

“That’s why I’m here baby, how about your little friend here takes care of everything tonight and we leave together?”

Javier had been listening the whole time, Nico’s friend telling him their orders. You can feel his energy get stronger towards you, he lightly touches you, grabbing drinks in the fridge beneath your waist. You twitched and almost yelped, but you had to stay calm. Instead, but just for Javier, you arch your back. Hunching over the counter top to get closer to Nico, whispering something in his ear and he laughs. You wanted to see what kind of reaction that would get out of him.

You wiggle your ass, knowing it’ll piss off Javier, your low waist Rock Revival jeans accentuating every curve of your ass.

You told Nico, that Chandler's new and you had to train him tonight, little boy doesn't know what he’s doing. That got a kick out of him.

“Something I’m missing?” Javi asks.

“No, Chandler.” You giggle, “But you ruined my night with my sweet sweet Nico.” You pout at him, his face pouting like a lion, hungry. You’ve passed your line with him.

“One second sweetheart, we’re out of limes.” Javier goes to the back of the kitchen, doors closing behind him, fucking take that Javier.

Nico continues to ask about your day, his friends introduce themselves and you continue to sweeten up Nico. No harm no foul, he would eventually reach over to touch your hair that was french braided, complimenting your braiding skills. You make a couple more drinks and the business of the bar dies down, everyone on the dance floor having their fill of alcohol for the night.

You were starting to wonder why getting limes was taking so long, and you look down in the fridge and realize there's a whole bucket of them, where had he gone?

Before your eyes flash, he sneaks up behind you, but not standing, he’s on his knees so no one can see him. Thankfully Nico was busy talking to his friends so he didn’t notice that your attention was elsewhere.

“What the fuck are you doing Javier? You’ve been gone for minutes.” You whisper.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier, and you are gonna fucking finish.” He growls.

You gasp as he grabs your legs closer to him, as he’s leaning against the fridge, the space between you and the table encloses and you are really leaning against the table now.

He lingers his hands around the hem of your jeans, you stare at him in awe that he’s touching you right there.

“Can I touch you?”

“Right here? Javi, what if someone sees what if someone from the kitchen comes in?”

“I don’t fucking care, tell me now.”

It felt like there was no option, but he was giving you an option. His fingers were touching your zipper slipping down to your crotch, your body going rigid.

“Fuck,” You close your eyes, “Javi… fuck… do what ever you… want.. just be careful.”

Slowly he unzips your jeans, you catch your breath quickly scanning the bar to see if anyone could see you right now. At any moment if anyone lingered for too long or had the perfect eyesight of seeing Javier down below, they could see. You grab the edge of the bar, now holding on and not able to see what he’ll do next.

You don’t care what he’ll do to you, you wanted him to do this to you, you felt the fire fuel inside your stomach. The rush of him undoing you in public made your brain melt.

“Where’d your little friend go?” Nico turns to you for attention again.

“I think in the back to get more limes, he’ll… be out soon.”

You could hear Javier slightly chuckle, as he slowly pulls down your jeans. Your breath staggers, you can’t control how your body reacts to his touch.

“Oh baby, I do wish you could come home with me tonight, I could show you around and we could have a nice drink. Wouldn’t you like that?”

“Nico.. I… hmm… that would be nice,” You laugh, “But I am really tired, how about next week?” Knowing you, this would never actually happen, just to get him off for the night, you had bigger matters on your hands.

Now Javi has your jeans slipped down slightly past your ass, your panties out clear as day in front of him, you weren’t wearing anything special, but also nothing too bad.

You hear him chuckle, you can feel his fingers dance across your mound, reaching around to grab your ass, feeling his breath on your stomach.

“Sugar, we’re all leaving on a business trip to America next week, how about the next?”

“You know where to find me then.” You smirk.

After exploring your ass, Javi slips your panties to the side, stuffing his fingers beneath you. They slipped easily through your pussy lips, your wetness pulling him in. When he had you pushed against the wall, you were already a puddle for him, and now you were dripping on his fingers.

For not being able to see anything he’s doing, your senses were hyper. Making sure no one could see you, especially Nico. The thought of being caught turned you on, but possibly what could’ve happened if you were caught?

“Is that boy giving you any trouble? He seemed like a real fucker when he was making our drinks, I feel like I’ve seen him around before…”

Instantly you feel Javier tense below you, he’s had your legs held in his arms for a couple minutes now, but his fingers are rubbing back and forth through you went cunt, you’ve never done this before, but he knows exactly what he's doing. He pushes his thumb up just a little bit, to lay on top of your clit. Your throat can’t conceal your yelp, but thankfully the music was loud enough, no one would hear you.

“Chandler? Oh he’s no harm, he’s a little slow, but he’s kind.”

Kind? Javier was the opposite of kind.

“I’ll fucking show you slow.” You hear him whisper.

Not being able to see him is driving you crazy, you're tapping your fingers on the table and Nico goes to kiss your hands, you laugh it off but then you feel something wet touch you, not just his fingers on you now, it’s his tongue.

He kisses your pussy, from your mound down to your clit. He moved his thumb so he could suck your needy nub. What the hell is going through this man's mind?

“And he’s not trying to touch you now is he?”

Your heart jumped, Javier paused.

“What do you mean?” You stutter. Were you both caught?

“C’mon baby, is he trying to take what’s mine?” Nico frowns.

Whew.

“If he was, I’d tell you.” You giggle, not only at how stupid Nico was, but at Javier's tongue beginning to pick up speed on your clit after the little scare. You move your hips on his face, trying to relieve anything. You wanted to touch him, hold onto his hair to ride his face, but simply you had to stand there and act normal. His mustache was brushing against your skin, the burn making you more wet.

Breathing got ten times harder, thinking properly wasn’t a choice right now. You took a chance to look down and see him attached to your pussy, not able to say anything, undoing you in front of hundreds of people, his nose deep into your stomach.

As you watched in awe, he brought back his hand, lifting under your sidened panties, and he pushed his fingers up into you. Your jaw goes slack, not able to handle both at the same time. You really hope Nico would just stay distracted for an eternity.

Javier picks up the pace again, his fingers feeling like an automatic sex toy, never stopping. You couldn’t take the pace, his tongue dancing with your clit too, your eyes were about to roll to the back of your head.

You were close, but you were so scared you would give everything away, if you let yourself come, you would never be able to stop. Was this Javier testing you, to see how good you could be?

“Ok well sugar, we have to go now, I’m looking forward to seeing you in a couple weeks.” He winks. He ruffles through his wallet, slapping down 500$ in cash, at least 400 of it was for you to pocket.

“Here baby, some money to buy you something pretty, yeah?”

“Thank.. Thank you Nico, you're.. You’re so generous.”

“Don’t need to stutter for me baby, it’s all for you, only ever for you.” He kisses your wrist and gets up to leave. His friends follow him, and you lean your head on the bar, easing the howling in your stomach. Javier wouldn’t stop until you collapsed.

“He’s gone, Javier. They’re gone.” You shriek, trying to draw no attraction to the bar.

He slowly gets up, the light illuminating his wet mouth. You were so close to cumming all over his face, you were close to crumbling down on top of him, but you had to show him that you were strong and you couldn't break.

“You liked that huh? You liked that I was tongue fucking your pussy in front of that little cock sucker. Pussy’s a fuckin whore you know that. Could feel you soaking me up,” He wipes his mouth “Sweeter than candy, and he’ll never get a taste.”

“You don’t think I’ll let him suck my fucking pussy in front of hundreds of people?”

He takes you back to the hidden wall, slamming you against it.

“You think I'd let you? Think I’ll let a man that fucking dirty touch you? You’re wrong sweetheart, take his fucking money but I won’t let you go anywhere near him again.” He growls in your ear. He leaves you and you watch him, your jeans are still unzipped open, leaning against the wall.

He rumages for a lime in the fridge, walking back to you behind the secret wall, bringing the fruit to your mouth, “Bite.” He demands.

You shake your head, smirking. It was just a game with Javier.

Then he shoves the lime into your mouth, so citrusy but keeping you quiet. He roughly turns you around so you’re facing the wall, your jeans are still off your ass, and he starts to undo his. The metal of his belt touches your back, the hairs on your back lifting.

“Gonna be a fucking brat, or listen to me and when I tell you do to something?”

You moan, yes I’ll fucking listen you had to say. You’d always listen to Javier. Instead you shake your head for him.

“Pretty girl can’t fuckin talk, that’s what you get for being a fuckin slut. Like being a fucking little slut for me huh baby?”

You moan loud, not afraid anymore with the decibels of the music blazing through the club. Nobody in the world would give a fuck if they saw you two anymore. It was just you and Javier now. All you wanted was to whore yourself out for Javier, only his fucking whore. Let him use you how he’d like.

“Never seen such a perfect cunt like yours, mean it.” He gasps, he pulls his jeans down just enough to get his cock out of his boxers. From what you could see in your peripheral and being turned around from him, his dick looked long. Your heart sank and you didn’t know if you could take all of it.

“Don’t get shy on me now baby, it’ll be okay. You can be as loud as you want, no one will ever know.” He groans. He takes his hand off of holding you against the wall to pump himself a couple times “I wish you could see you fucking pussy right now, so pretty and glistening for me.”

You feel his cock nestle against your entrance and your body freezes up, his dick is so big, you panties have to stay on the side of your leg.

The whole night you’ve wanted this, since the moment you’ve met Javier, you needed him. He slips his dick in and you both relax at the new feeling, groaning at how full you are. He moves, you bite the lime stronger and the juices smear all over your face.

“When I first saw you sweetheart, I knew I needed to feel you, I knew deep down I needed fuck this fucking cunt.” He fucks up into hard. You shriek at the new pace. “That’s it, dirty fuckin whore for takin my cock out in the open, splitting you wide for the public.” He kisses your neck, down to your chest. You wanted to kiss him back, wanted your lips around him.

All you can do in groan and control where your arms are. He holds one leg in his hand, now slightly having you bent over the wall. He goes at you again, adjusting his stance so he can fit inside you better, but not only is he fucking you, he moved his hands around your stomach to hold you up, holding you like you’re his.

“What a fucking brat… talking to dirty men.” He seethes, “But I think you liked it… I saw your ass bent out, you knew what you were doing. Fucking whore for teasin me… knew what you wanted all along.”

Aside from the music you can hear your pussy breaking from his cock, your eyes fill with tears from how bad you want to come around his dick. His weight on you felt like the world was crashing on you, and you wanted more. You wanted to be alone to do more, but this was all was given to you.

No matter what, the thought of being caught while he was about to come, or you were made you more wet, the inability to stop what you were doing but a whole scene of people at the club seeing you get fucked like a fucking whore. You loved it, the thrill, the passion in your bodies, the feeling of no embarasement because Javier was proud to fuck you like this. All you wanted was to tease Javier, make him upset. Prolonging another punishment.

His scent and the cold of his leather jacket kept you alive, but if it wasn't for that you’d immediately fall to the floor, crumbling from the inside of his dick. When he would fuck you, cock kissing your pussy, you could feel the metal of his gun hitting your lower leg, you weren’t scared but protected.

Repeatedly thinking about being caught, you feel yourself tighten around him, not knowing where else to move or think. You moan as loud as you can, about to break every particle of the wall you’re resting on.

“Fuck… that’s it baby… come all over me… pussy’s so tight. I can feel… fuck…let go perfect girl let the whole crowd see.”

You stop thinking, you just let go. No matter where anyone in the world was, you wish they could feel this feeling, how every amount of stress flew away. Every ration of thought eased and your pussy craved more. You wanted to be fucked all night long by Javier, it’s what you were made for.

“Greedy fuckin cunt, swallowing me whole.” He whimpers. “Don’t think I can last longer baby…”

No matter what you lose all cognitive function and fall into his arms, he fucks your orgasm through and you’re unable to process how fast he was going, eventually pulling out so he wouldn’t come in you. He flips you around on the wall so you can finally see and he quickly finds a rag so he can come, before you close your eyes you sag against the wall, slipping to the floor. You can feel that your underwear is beyond stretched out, ripped partially but you don’t care. Evidence from tonight that you would remember for forever.

You watch him grunt, pumping himself until he spurts. You would do anything for that white liquid to be inside you, but it’s for the best.

Once he’s done, he throws the rag to the side, and slides against the wall next to you, he holds you tight again, compressing the aftershocks in your body to his. He takes the lime out of your mouth and you almost forgot it was there, you see your bite marks, realizing that if it was his hand you would’ve drawn blood. You slump against him still hidden in the club.

“I was.. Wrong… Javier Pena… can fuck.” You whisper.

He laughs, “I didn’t think fucking in public with a pretty girl like you would ruin me.” He kisses your temple.

You grab onto his leather jacket, “Better tell Murphy you unlocked a new kink.”

“Nu-uh, gonna keep you from Murphy, my fuckin trophy girl.”

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mygroovymutationn · 11 months

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So...I had an idea 😏

Tumblr: @mygroovymutationn

Insta: @mygroovymutation

#pedro pascal #oscar isacc #pedropascal #oscarissac #pedro pascal x oscar isaac #pedro pascal fanart #oscar issac imagine #oscar issac fic #space latinos #cowboy #western #cowboys #butch cassidy and the sundance kid #cinema #fake movie poster #pedro pascal edit #pedro pascal au #oscar isaac au #alternate universe

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capypub · 11 months

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Without Warning - Mafia!Joel Miller Scene 1

AU Mafia!Joel Miller x Original Female Character

Rating: T (language, sexual themes, drug use)

Minors DNI. 18+ content!

Scene 2 Scene 3

Summary: Joel's worked hard to build his empire. He's put the blood, sweat and tears of himself and others into creating his wealth and success, only ever worried about providing for himself and his brother. After years of being hardened by crime and violence, he finds someone that stirs feelings and urges inside of him that he'd long forgotten. She somehow brings out a softness in him without doing a thing and he will do everything in his power to keep her at his side, under his arm, and in his bed.

Been sitting on this idea for a while and finally got some time to write it out. Right now it's just a little scene in my head, but I might add some actual smut and fluff content soon.

Joel was at the Tipy Bison her first night working the floor. He watched from his corner table, away from the neon lit signs and noise of the crowded bar. She was following Lacy around, the older redhead talking quickly as she explained how to put in orders on the bar’s computer system. She was smaller than Lacy, a cute little thing that had something primal stirring low in his core.

“She’s a looker, ain’t she?” Tommy asked, coming up to the table with a knowing smirk as he set a fresh glass of bourbon in front of his brother.

“Where’d you find this one?” Joel asked around the rim of his glass, finishing the contents in one drink.

“Grad student at UT, one of Jared’s friends needing a job, he vouched for her and everything,” Tommy shrugged while refilling Joel’s glass with practiced ease.

“Grad student, huh?” Joel muttered, his eyes following her around the tiny bar as she tried to keep up with Lacy.

“Yeah, psychology or somethin’...think her name’s Indi,” he said.

Joel couldn’t help the low scoff as he finally looked away from the girl and at his brother. “What kind of name is that?”

Tommy chuckled. “The fuck if I know,” he said through a snickering huff.

The brother’s shared a brief laugh, always being able to relax around the other when they needed a moment of quiet, something which was hard to come by in their line of work.

“Tess been getting the boys ready for the Alvarez meeting?” he asked quietly, scanning the room slowly, the way he learned in the military, assessing and searching for threats.

“She better be,” Joel muttered, scanning the room as well, but for one target in particular.

A moment later, his target passed their table, Lacy leading the way to the backroom, most likely to show her where the girls take their breaks, away from customers, as Tommy insisted when he bought the rundown bar.

Daniel, one of the newest and youngest runners for Joel approached the table slowly, eyes slightly glazed over. Joel suspected the kid was high, whether from their own product or someone else’s, still riding on the thrills of the lifestyle, the women, the drugs, hell, even the food tasted better when you ran for Joel Miller.

“Hey boss,” Daniel said, waiting for Joel to acknowledge him with cold eyes and a slight arch of his brow, the warmth of laughter gone once the circle between the two brothers was invaded. “Um, we finished the job last night without any issues, the boys were wanting to head over to Sugar’s to check out the oil wrestling night after a big move like that, thought you two might want to join,” he explained, obviously having been put up to it by some of the more experienced runners and grunts.

“Boy, you just stopped suckin’ on your momma’s titty last week and now you’re tryin’ to go see some more,” Tommy scoffed with a wry grin, always lighthearted and sharp with his wit, making the kid laugh nervously with a shake of his head.

Lately, moving products had become more of a risk with the increased security around the border. Joel had lost more men than he’d like in the past two months to those DEA assholes thinking they were outsmarting the complex system of drug and weapon trafficking he had built over the last twenty years. He didn’t even want to think about the amount of cocaine he lost just last month to a drop gone off track. The numbers infuriated him to the point of seeing red if he thought about it too long, usually signaled by a headache and the urge to punch holes into the nearest wall.

Just then, the subject of Joel’s initial interest reappeared, passing by the men without Lacy this time. Joel openly admired how her sleeveless black top accentuated the curves of her body. He caught the edges of black ink on her left inner forearm, the full tattoo stretching from her wrist to the inner crook of her elbow. Her hair swayed behind her with every step, long loose locks falling in waves and curls down her back. He spotted the hints of a second, much smaller tattoo on her shoulder blade, her hair covering most of it.

His staring attracted the curiosity of Daniel, the kid turning as he followed Joel’s gaze. His hum of appreciation is what drew the older Miller’s attention away from the pretty little kitten walking away from them, completely unaware of how many men's interest she had peaked in the short amount of time she’s been clocked in.

“Damn Tommy, how do you keep finding all these hotties?” he chuckled, a lustful smirk on his slimy lips as he looked her over before turning back to the two men.

That comment was enough to have Joel itching to pull his gun from the holster and shoot the kid in his goddamn mouth. The clench of his jaw and hardness of his glare was enough to wipe the punk’s disgusting grin off his face. Unfortunately, Tommy insisted on a “No Guns” rule for all of the men when they entered the Bison, usually leaving their weapons at the door or behind the bar before they could even get a drink. While Joel respected the rule, he didn’t often feel like following it. If Tommy didn’t ask, Tommy didn’t need to know.

“Uh, everything good, boss?” he asked, shifting back to his original nervous state under Joel’s cold eyes.

“Thought you were goin’ to Sugar’s, kid?” Joel questioned, his voice dropping to a low growl.

“Uh, y-yeah, w-we’re goin’,” Daniel agreed, taking a hesitant step backwards, the intimidation evident in the quiver of his lip, “I-I’ll see you around, Tommy,” he added with a stiff nod towards the other brother.

Tommy simply nodded with his usual easy grin, sensing his brother’s sudden shift and realizing quickly that Joel was not amused with the kid’s comments. When Daniel turned around, he didn’t bother to realize how far away he’d stepped back from the table, unintentionally obstructing the walkway. He spun around sharply, his elbow bumping the tray of the Tipsy Bison’s latest waitress.

Joel was on his feet instantly, grabbing Daniel by his collar and shoving him away from her as she tried to regain her balance. With the much taller and broader stature of Joel’s body, it was like looking at a bear grabbing a stick. Tommy watched her successfully manage to steady the three pint glasses with minimal spillage.

“The fuck is wrong with you, huh?” Joel seethed at Daniel, shaking the kid by the collar for emphasis.

“I’m sorry, boss, I’m sorry!” Daniel whimpered, trying to get out of Joel’s grasp.

“The fuck you sayin’ sorry to me for, you should be sayin’ it to ‘er,” he grunted, cocking his head to the side briefly in Indi’s direction.

Tommy shook his head with a dramatic sigh. Poor girl was watching Joel threaten Daniel with wide eyes, holding her tray close to her chest, almost like she was frozen in place. While Joel continued to berate and threaten Daniel, Tommy took it upon himself to slowly approach his newest employee, offering a kind smile as he placed his hand on her shoulder and guided her towards the bar.

“I…I didn’t mean to cause trouble, I’m sorry,” she immediately said, her lower lip a little shaky as she looked up at Tommy with worry.

“Not your fault, sweetheart, Joel’s just…protective of our girls here, has a soft spot for ‘em, you know?” Tommy tried to explain, easing her panic with a comforting squeeze to her shoulder.

He kept her distracted for a few moments, answering the few questions she had so far until Joel and Daniel approached them near the service well. Joel had Daniel by the back of shirt, his jaw tensed as he gave the kid a light shove in Indi’s direction.

“S-sorry for gettin’ in your way, ma’am, I promise not to let it happen again,” Daniel said softly, his eyes on the ground the entire time, practically shaking in his shoes.

“It’s fine, really, no harm done,” she said quickly, looking past Daniel to Joel, who’s gaze softened just slightly when their eyes met.

After she accepted Daniel’s apology, Joel stepped forward and leaned down, muttering something lowly to Daniel that had the kid practically running out of the bar. Tommy scoffed with a smirk, asking her one more time if she was okay before heading towards the office. When left alone with Joel, Indi hesitated in meeting his gaze. He took a slow step forward, allowing enough space for her to move away if she wanted.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, darlin’, I usually don’t have to remind my boys ‘bout their manners,” he said, his voice no longer an intimidating growl, but a warm and inviting timber that had her relaxing just slightly.

“No worries, I-I, um-.”

“Hey! Are you okay? What the hell, girl? I step outside for five minutes to smoke and you’re already getting guys kicked out,” Lacy said, coming up to them, grinning a little too wide for Joel’s comfort as she laughed and nudged Indi’s arm.

“Yeah, crazy, right?” Indi said softly, her attention still on Joel as Lacy teased her lightly.

“You need something Joel? My trainee isn’t going to learn just standing over here,” Lacy said, hand on her hip as she looked to Joel with an arched brow, one of the few who didn’t find him intimidating for some reason.

“How ‘bout ‘nother bourbon on the rocks?” Joel suggested, “the good stuff, not that well shit Tommy just gave me,” he added with a low chuckle, the edges of his lip twitching just a bit higher when Indi let out a soft laugh of her own.

“You’re the boss,” Lacy shrugged with a nod, linking her arm with Indi and pulling her away, demanding details of what happened as they went to put his order in.

With a heavy sigh, Joel watched the little doe-eyed waitress leave, her pleated black skirt swaying with each step. He originally never understood why Tommy had the girls dress in all black as part of the Bison’s uniform, but he could honestly appreciate his brother’s decision in having the girls wear those little black skirts.

He had to bite his inner cheek to suppress the groan building in his stomach as Indi stumbled forward slightly, slipping on some substance on the floor. The sudden movement and her bending forward exposed more of her legs, the hints of tiny spandex shorts peeking beneath the fabric, accentuating her ass.

Her little slip and recovery took less than three seconds, but Joel was watching her so closely it felt like she was moving in slow motion, his heated gaze soaking in every detail before he lost sight of her in the crowd. This little gatita had definitely made an impression on him and he was hungry for more…

Scene 2

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller au #mafia boss joel miller #mob boss joel miller #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal au

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rainontherooftops · 2 months

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Keeper of the House - Chapter 1

AN: We all saw Pedro Pascals outfit at the SAG awards ( he won!! ) and a lot of people were reminded of Mr. Darcy. So... I did a thing. Enjoy!

Summary: Miguel F. Darcy, cousin of Fitzwilliam Darcy, has arrived from Spain to celebrate his cousins wedding to Miss Elisabeth Bennet. While they are on their honeymoon, he is charged with looking after the Estate and his cousin Georgiana. But she is not the only woman who is on his mind....

Fandom: Pride and Prejudice AU - Pedro Pascal as (OC) Miguel Fitzwilliam Darcy Genre: Romance, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Historical Drama, Family Drama,

Pairing: Miguel x OC! Millicent Tealeaf Triggers : Mentions of class differences and issues of the age, Mentions of slavery and racism, broken family dynamics, mentions of male domination over women

Rating : T

Keeper of the House Chapter 1

Miguel Darcy did not cross oceans to his ancestors’ land very often. But for his cousin Fitzwilliam and his wedding to Miss Elisabeth Bennet? He’d boarded a ship as soon as possible.

It was hard to distinguish the male members of the Darcy family by name, since almost all of them carried the name Fitzwilliam in some way or another.

Fitzwilliam Darcy, the man who he had just sent off on his honeymoon, was the heir to Pemberley. His other cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam Darcy, had been at the wedding but had taken off to see to his military duties soon after.

And so, it was up to him, Miguel Fitzwilliam Darcy, to run Pemberley and look after his cousin Georgiana until the newlyweds would return.

“It is so nice of you to stay a while, Cousin Miguel”, the blonde young woman across from him in the carriage said. “My brother would never have left on his honeymoon were it not for you. He deserves happiness.”

It had been ten years since he had last been to England, spending his time in the country of Spain where his mother was from and where one of his uncle’s brothers had fallen in love with her - him being the result of this union.

He could scarcely believe that the young girl who had been six years old on his last visit was sitting across him now, a young beautiful woman of sixteen.

He smiled.

“It will give us time to get to know each other better, dear cousin. And your brother promised me that you would entertain me with your piano playing.”

She smiled shyly, leaning back against the cushions and wrapping herself in her blanket. Miguel silently cursed the cold winter air – he was not used to these temperatures.

He would spend about three months at Pemberley, not only to look after Georgiana and the family affairs, but also to spend some time with his cousins and his new cousin-in-law, who he had thought a perfect match for him.

“Tell me again Georgiana who I am to expect at Pemberley. It’s been so long since I’ve visited.”

Having stayed at an inn close to the wedding venue, he hadn’t had time to move into the estate yet.

“Our housekeeper and the staff are mostly the same. We do have a new cook, Mrs. Glenn. She makes the most excellent pheasant pie. Our cousin Fitzwilliam will stay from time to time when he has time off from his duties with the military. Oh, and Milly will arrive in a few days!”

“Milly?”, Miguel enquired.

“Miss Millicent Tealeaf. She is to be my tutor. I have known her since I was a little girl, but now my brother has finally engaged her to be my teacher rather than my playmate. She is to move in in a few days and teach me about literature, biology, languages… all kinds of things.”

Miguel frowned. Now he had to look after a young woman as well? But as she was to be a staff member, he couldn’t argue.

“Uaaaah!”

Miguel looked up from his place at the window in the parlor to see what the commotion was about. He was bored out of his mind. The last three days had snowed them in, the thick white blanket covering the whole estate.

A small carriage, only one horse and one driver, had fought its way into the courtyard. The yell had come from a young woman who now lay in the snow, face up and dishevelled, ungraceful and her skirts indecently exposed.

The coachman had his work cut out for him with the horse that didn’t want to stand still because of the coat.

‘Anything to fight off the boredom’, Miguel thought, threw on a coat and went outside.

The woman had made no progress in getting up, so he stomped towards her, holding out a hand – and stopped.

A pair of piercing blue eyes and met his, framed by rosy pink and plump cheeks. Her hair had escaped her bun and strands of dark brown curls were escaping their confinement. She was beautiful.

“Are you alright, Miss?”, he asked, trying to get his bearings, not looking at her disturbed skirts and slowly helping her sit up in the snow.

“Yes, thank you. Just a bit of clumsiness on my part. I’m just glad the master of the house didn’t see me like this.”

Miguel smirked and helped her to her feet.

“That would be hard, considering he should be on his way to the South of France for his honeymoon by now.”

The woman laughed and clapped the snow off of her dress and overcoat.

“Oh, I am aware. But he left one of his cousins in charge. I would be absolutely mortified if a member of the Darcy family would see me in this state.”

Before Miguel could say anything, an excited yelp came from the entrance. Georgiana had spotted her friend and tutor.

“Milly! You’ve made it!”

“Hello Georgiana! Best stay back, my dear. The snow is treacherous.”

Georgiana wrapped herself in her shawl to watch the coachman unload her friend’s luggage.

“I see you’ve already met my cousin.”, she said.

Milly blinked at her in confusion and then the mortification set in.

Miguel Fitzwilliam Darcy had just witnessed her ungraceful arrival – and Millicent was ready to let the snow swallow her in embarrassment.

AN: We are all fantasising about Pedro as Mr. Darcy now.... I have deserved a cookie.

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal Fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fandom #Pedro Pascal Mr Darcy #Pride and Pejudice #AU #pedro pascal AU #Pride and Pejudice AU #Pedro Pascal SAG

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cognizantdespair · 1 year

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c...cowboy pascal. but he's also.. jackinthebox man

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal art #pedro pascal fanart #jack in the box #jack in the box fanart #crossover #pedro pascal au #cowboy #lasso #rope

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raewritesfiction · 1 year

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Animals (Get In) [Pedro Pascal]

A/N: I got an idea listening to a song which I’ll input for you all. My Spanish isn’t great and I’ve been using google translate to help me; my sincerest apologies for possibly butchering this beautiful language. Sorry for the formatting; it’s something to do with c&p from my docs app.

Plot: AU where Pedro isn’t famous and you have housemates who don’t like him so you sneak out for some fun in his car.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal X Female!Reader

Warnings: smut, dangerous driving (don’t do this!), oral (m and f receiving) p in v (unprotected - always use a condom!!)

[[ Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed from tags; no questions asked ♥️ likes are amazing however I really appreciate Reblogs to help spread my writing further! Thank you 🌈😘]]

Tag List: @jaseminedenise @nikkitasevoli @iraniq @snewsome756 @vikki-rogue @amelia-in-w0nderland @pandaliciouz @crispyimagines17 @marie-is-blogging @bonniebird @nutinanutshell @louise-buchan @differentcatcat @purplerain85

—-

You always thought being an adult meant your days of sneaking out to see a boyfriend were over but after seeing Pedro for a few months now you had come to find out your housemates disliked him intently and would actively do whatever they could to stop you seeing him.

Okay so he was a ‘bad boy’ in some ways but you could see his soft heart and you’d never felt so loved and appreciated by anyone else. Also the more your housemates tried to stop you from seeing Pedro, the more you wanted to see him.

You check your watch and giddily climb up onto your window ledge; you check around and shimmy yourself down the drainpipe and then climb down the trellis to the floor. You wait a few beats before checking around the corner and seeing Pedro’s car, a 57 Chevy Bel Air, at the corner waiting for you - lights off and passenger door open ready for you to jump in on the run.

There’s movement in your house as someone walks about and you decide it’s better now than later, quickly going to full sprint towards the idling car. You manage to perfectly dive inside and just as you shut the door Pedro takes off, making the wheels squeal in protest.

“Hey Querida…”

“Hey Papi” you wink and twist on the front seat, slipping off your coat to reveal a tight dress and stockings underneath.

“Jesucristo...” he breathes and has trouble keeping his eyes on the road as you stretch and adjust your dress around your assets.

“I missed you baby.”

“I missed you too, thanks for helping me get my licence back.” He smirks and licks his lips, a hand moving from the gear stick to your thigh.

“Not a problem. Glad I could help.” You shuffle your legs, run a hand through your hair to push it back off your face and shuffle closer on the seat to drape yourself over Pedro; one hand squeezed his thigh while the other was leaning on the back of the seat around his shoulders.

You run your nose up the side of his neck and flick your tongue over the edge of his ear.

“I’ve really missed you…” you whisper and kiss over his neck and jaw.

Your hand lightly squeezes the growing bulge in his jeans which makes him hit the accelerator in response.

“Cariño, you’re killing me here.” He smiles and squeezes your thigh again, pouting as you pull away; “Did I tell you to stop though?”

Letting out a devilish giggle you squeeze him again and catch street lights speeding by faster; if you got caught this time there would be no helping to get his licence back but it was far too much fun to tease.

Pedro quickly grips the wheel with both hands when you unzip his jeans to free him from their confines. He lets out a low groan as the cool night air hits him but looks over to you briefly with a sly smile when he sees you tying back your hair.

Your hand wraps around his cock and jerks slowly, your lips rest against his ear where you whisper to him.

“Can’t wait to feel you inside me Papi; gonna make you feel so good. Wanna feel that thick cock stretch me out and fill me up. Yeah? You like hearing that? Oh god I need it so bad…”

You moan and squeeze your thighs together, continuing “I’ve missed you being inside me. My fingers just aren’t enough… You always make me cum so hard Papi…that cock deep inside me, reaching places nobody else has…”

You whine and swallow audibly. “You want my mouth for now? It’s much more talented than my hand..” nipping his ear lobe and letting out small moans and whimpers to rile him up further.

He nods “oh god, you talk so dirty!”

You nod against him and lean down, positioning yourself under his arms. You swiftly take him in your mouth and hear Pedro’s loud moan above the engine; sucking him slowly you bob your head and swirl your tongue, hand moving to his balls and rolling them in your palm.

“Oh baby girl… that mouth of yours has some real talent but I can’t wait to feel that cunt squeezing me, driving me crazy and milking me dry.” He groans and briefly drops his head back, closing his eyes in pleasure.

“Oh fuck!” Pedro straightens out the car, barely missing a ditch beside the road and quickly looking around to make sure there were no cops. After a few beats he grunts and moans again, deciding to pull over into a disused track before he crashes the car.

You carefully pull away and look up at Pedro as he stops the car and looks down at you “¿Eres mi puta? (Are you my whore?)”

“Always” you flick your tongue along the underside of his dick and then lean up, hitching up your dress to reveal your lack of panties as if to prove a point.

“Buena niña.. (Good girl)” he nods and man handles you onto your back as best he could, lifting your legs over his shoulders and lifting your dripping wet pussy to his mouth.

His tongue slowly laps over you from entrance to clit, mouth closing around you once he reaches the sensitive nub so he could suck at you in pulses. His hands hold your ass and support you at an angle in the confined space so all you had to do was relax into his touch and enjoy the pleasure he was giving you.

You whine and moan his name, a hand threaded into his curly hair and tugging lightly while your other tugs your dress down to free your breasts to the air, your nipples already hard and sensitive from Pedro’s onslaught and the dipping night air.

You pant quickly and let out a string of profanity in English and Spanish and just when orgasm was at your literal finger tips Pedro growls and pulls away from you.

“NO!” You cry out “Please, baby!” Breathing heavy.

“Get on my dick!” He nips your inner thigh and helps you to move, quickly pushing down his pants and pulling you to straddle him. “Ven a mi..! (Get on me!)”

You could tell he was desperate to feel your cunt around him when he reverted back to Spanish to command you. You had learned quickly that the more you tease and withhold yourself from him the more commands came out in Spanish against your skin while his eyes were fixed on you.

“Llevame! (Ride me!)” he growls and guides his dick into you as you lower down along his thick length. You barely settle, feeling him stretch you out, before you’re rocking your hips quickly building to a faster pace.

Pedro splays his hands on your back and throws his head back, moaning low, you move your hands from his chest to rest around his shoulders leaning his head back up so your tits were directly in his face. He wastes no time nipping and sucking on your nipples, his arms tightening around your waist.

“That’s it cariño, ride it!” He scrapes his teeth over your skin and groans, guiding you to bounce on him. You happily oblige and moan out his name, dropping your forehead to his and watching his brown eyes blow out to almost completely black.

Pedro tilts your face and kisses you hungrily, a hand threading into the back of your mussed hair and holding your head; he pistons and runs his hips up into you, alternating your rhythm and pulling you down onto each and every thrust.

“Correte para mi..(cum for me)” he nods and nips your lip. “sé una buena niña…(be a good girl)”

You pant and whine, you loved it when he spoke Spanish to you like this.

“quiero sentirte.. (I want to feel you)” he whispers against your lips.

You stutter out a cry of ecstasy as you finally tip over the edge and cum around his cock; your quivering pulsing along his length and causing him to follow a few seconds after with a moan of your name.

As you both slowly come down from your post-orgasmic highs you kiss over Pedro’s neck lightly. He holds you close, stroking over your skin with his fingertips.

“Fuck I missed you..” his voice is low and rough.

“I missed you too.” You run your nose up his throat. “Worth the wait?”

“Siempre.. (always)”

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal X Reader #Pedro Pascal Smut #Pedro Pascal AU #song fic?#kind of?#Nickelback Animals #Pedro Pascal Imagine #Spotify

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shellshocklove · 8 months

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i wanna be your lover | joel miller

pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader

summary: miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, swearing, misogyny (bc of the times™), accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s, drinking of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes (it’s the 70s alright), mentions of a bad previous sexual encounter and losing your virginity, use of pet names, porn (obviously lmao), sextoys, only one bed, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: i had fun with this one, but it turned out to be longer than i first intended. i hope people will like it still! also big thank you to @dustydaddyyy, for proofreading this

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

Under a pink and orange Los Angeles sky, your platforms clicked against the sidewalk. Day left an hour ago, dipping behind the green hills of Laurel Canyon. Walking down The Strip, arms linked with your friend Deborah, the street bustled in the awakening night. Music spilled from clubs and bars, seducing the dressed-up crowd passing by this Friday night.

“Do a little dance, make a little love,”

“This,” Deborah emphasized, coming to a stop outside a club, “is exactly what you need tonight to get your mind off everything.”

She clutched your arm tighter to her body, almost like she was afraid you’d run off, and maybe she had good reason to think you would. You weren’t exactly in the right mood to party. Only a few hours ago, you’d gotten fired from your job. Three years as Mr. Cooper’s personal assistant down the drain.

Mr. Cooper was the creative director, and one of the partners at the advertisement agency where you’d worked. He was an important man, and he’d dealt with all kinds of clients on a daily basis. For you, it had been a learning curve of a job. You had no prior experience as a personal assistant, and it had been intimidating.

You’d only just moved to the City of Angels when you’d gotten the job. With next to no money, having left behind your family and your small town, you were desperate for a job. When you’d seen the ad in the newspaper, left behind on the table of a café near your apartment, you’d stepped out on the sidewalk immediately to find a payphone. During the interview Mr. Cooper had looked you up and down and scowled as he’d read your resume. You’d shrank in your seat under his gaze, but even with your lacking resume, Mr. Cooper had hired you on the spot.

Later, during your first full week at your new job, you’d come to discover why Mr. Cooper had hired you so quickly – he’d been desperate for a new assistant. Overhearing some of the other ladies whispering to each other during lunch, you’d been able to piece together exactly why. Apparently, Mr. Cooper and his former personal assistant had been having an affair. He’d gotten her pregnant and wanted nothing to do with her or the baby – he was a married man after all. This was where the story had gotten hazy, and the grape vine sang different songs. One version of the story said he’d forced her to get an abortion and riddled with grief over the dead baby and their failing relationship, she’d quit her job and moved back to her parents in Maine. While the other version of the story said that, rightfully angry at Mr. Cooper for not taking any responsibility over their situation, she’d gone to visit his wife at home to tell her about what’s been going on. Which story was the truth, you don’t know. What you did know, was that Mr. Cooper was still married, and his previous assistant was no longer working for him.

Even if the job had been intimidating at first, you’d quickly gotten used to it. You stayed on top of everything: Mr. Copper’s clients, his calls, his schedule. Ordered flowers for his wife, and even sent boxes of chocolates to his various paramours. You’d made sure the bar in his office was always stacked with his favorite bourbon, and most importantly: you’d made sure to be seen and not heard. It’s what he told you, in the job interview, that he wanted.

You had thought you were doing a good job, but clearly, Mr. Cooper had been laboring under a different impression…

Your day had started like every other day – normal. You’d arrived at work fifteen minutes before Mr. Cooper, like always. Dutifully greeting him with a sweet “Good morning, sir!” at your desk, and served him his morning coffee minutes later. The day continued like normal, occupied with calls and speaking to clients, you had no idea what shocking message you’d receive at the end of your day.

Outside the club, you gave Deborah a meek smile which faded when you saw the line snaking its way down the street, “Sure, but… we’ll never get in.”

“Get down tonight, get down tonight,”

The words of KC And The Sunshine Band traveled through the open club door, the music filled the warm summer air.

“Don’t worry, babes!” she beamed, “I know the owner.” With an overdramatic wink and a giggle, she pulled you towards the bouncer.

“Baby, baby, I'll meet you, same place, same time,”

“How exactly do you know the owner of this place?” you queried, as you passed through the door of the club while the music got louder and louder.

“Where we can get together, and ease up our mind,”

“Let’s just say we had a weekend together…,” she giggled, “and I got to know him very… intimately.”

Your eyes widened at her implications, and Deborah giggled even louder.

“Don’t look so surprised!” she laughed, “I’m all about free love,” she joked, putting up a peace sign.

A heat burned your cheeks. Still, after three years in LA you needed to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t in your small rural hometown anymore. No one was going to arrest you for talking about sex. Nevertheless, the habit was hard to shake, and the roots of the rules you’d grown up with – the ones that had taught you to be the perfect student and the perfect daughter – stayed embedded in your mind.

“So…” Deborah started, her back against the bar while she took her first sip of her Apple Martini. She’d ordered you some fruity cocktail you’d never had before that she swore you’d like. “What exactly did that sad excuse of a man say to you when he fired you?”

With a scrunch of your nose, you turned your attention to your drink, taking a sip. It tasted sugary, but fresh, one of those dangerous drinks where you couldn’t taste the alcohol.

“Let’s not talk about it?” you sighed, shooting Deborah another meek smile.

She returned your smile, but it was full of pity. “You’re right! Let’s not– Let’s forget that fucker,” she said, taking a generous sip of her drink, “you’ll easily get a new job! I know it!” she smiled.

Not soon after Deborah had finished her first drink, a man interrupted your conversation. The man was tall, with black wild hair, pork chops and a matching mustache. He was wearing a flower-patterned shirt tucked into a pair of brown bell-bottoms. The top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing dark chest hair and a gold chain. He wasn’t bad looking.

His hand on Deborah’s back didn’t seem to bother her, quite the opposite, she jumped excitedly, throwing her hands around his neck in greeting. You couldn’t hear what he whispered in her ear over the music, but it made her laugh.

“This is Tommy! He owns the club,” Deborah introduced you.

With a friendly smile, you shook Tommy’s hand and introduced yourself. His grip was firm, not like those people that made shaking their hand feel like gripping a dead fish. You decided that it was a good sign.

“So– are ya enjoyin’ yourselves, ladies?” he asked with a charming smile.

“Oh, yes!” Deborah smiled, her painted nails landing on his bicep, “But I think we’d enjoy ourselves even more after another drink.”

With a knowing smile and an easy laugh, Tommy ushered the bartender closer. “’nother round for these two beautiful ladies,” he ordered, “and… they’re drinkin’ on the house for the rest of the night,” he added, sending Deborah a wink.

The bartender served you your second drink just as Tommy convinced Deborah to dance with him. Quickly, she downed her Apple Martini before she turned to you, guilt written all over her face.

“You okay by yourself for a little bit?”

“Yeah– sure!” you nodded, “Go have fun!”

With a sorry smile and a promise to be right back, Deborah left you at the bar, dragged out on the dancefloor by Tommy.

Left to your own devices, you still felt a little awkward. This was supposed to be a girls night. Pushing off the bar, you turned to lean your back against it. You bopped your head to the music, trying to not look so out of place. In your hands, your drink was slippery from the condensation around the glass. Out on the dancefloor, the crowd looked like it moved in slow motion through the blinking lights, bodies twisting their hips and grooving to the beat. You took another sip.

It’s a strange feeling, feeling so alone, while surrounded by a crowd of people. To your, a couple gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes as they passed a cigarette back and forth, a ribbon of smoky white, clouded them in a love fog. They leaned closer, sharing a kiss. You quickly averted your eyes, desperate for something else to rest your eyes on.

Instead, they fell on a man.

You locked eyes with him from across the room. Clad in tight denim he sat casually in a booth in the corner, legs spread slightly. His hand was wrapped around a whisky glass, with a cigarette pinched between his fingers. With a shy smile, you quickly looked away again, eyes back to watching the bodies on the dancefloor. You took another sip of your drink, trying to act casual.

He wasn’t watching you, was he? Why would he? No one usually looked at you twice.

You were no good at this. Flirting. You were painfully awful at it to be completely honest. Too shy to be sexy, and never interesting enough, or pretty enough for a second date.

Your experience with dating didn’t really go further than the few dates you’d gone on with John, from accounting. He’d acted so sweet: opened doors for you, held out your chair, kissed you at your doorstep at the end of the night. He had been a dream. Then on your third date, he’d invited you back to his place for a nightcap. One thing led to another, and soon you were laying under him as he thrusted inside you. It was your first time – and he hadn’t known. It had hurt so much; you’d turned your face away so he wouldn’t see your tears. After, he’d called you a cab, not bothering to even kiss you goodbye. In the office the next day, he’d pretended like you’d never even existed: no more tender kisses, no more door opening, no more smiles. Your dream had turned into a nightmare.

He’d pulled you aside during lunch and told you it wouldn’t work out between the two of you. You were just such different people. You’d deflated like a balloon at his words, sinking into your chair as you watched him walk down the corridor back to his cubicle. To make matters worse you’d overheard him say, to some of his colleges by the watercooler, how awful in bed you’d been. It had been humiliating. And now, every time you as much as attempted to flirt with someone, a bell of shame rang in your ears.

The man couldn’t have looked at you. He’d for sure only looked in the direction of the bar. But something burned your cheek, and you couldn’t fight your eyes from trailing back in his direction.

Dark hair and a tidy mustache. Lips pulled up into a cheeky smile as you locked eyes with him again. He took a drag of his cigarette, and the fire lit up his handsome face. You felt something pool in your stomach. His gaze still on you as he exhaled, challenging you with a raised eyebrow. Again, your cheeks burned, and you had to look away. Suddenly, your own platform shoes looked extremely interesting.

“I remember when rock was young, me and Susie had so much fun,”

The sound of Elton John was the perfect distraction from the alluring stranger. You were sure that if you looked back at him again, you’d only embarrass yourself. You always did. Slurping up the rest of your drink, you pushed off the bar, and headed towards the dancefloor.

“Holding hands and skimming stones. Had an old gold Chevy, and a place of my own,”

Moving your hips to the beat you vanished in the bodies. And soon you were “hopping and bopping” to the Crocodile Rock, singing loudly along with the crowd to “Laa, la-la-la-la-laa”.

The air was clammy and stuffy, and sweat clung to your skin, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You were here to leave your shitty day behind. To dance it away. You moved through the crowd; a smile bright on your face while your feet couldn’t stay still. The handsome stranger in the booth, already forgotten.

As the song faded out, a new song faded in. It was slower. A slightly erotic, but melodic guitar filled the room, accompanied by a luring salsa rhythm. You slowed down your dancing. It felt like you were threading through water.

“Ain't got nobody that I can depend on. Ain't got nobody that I can depend on,”

A pair of hands landed on your hips, making you jump. Behind you, you heard the deep chuckle of a man.

“Relax, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear, moving your hips in time with his.

You leaned back against his body; head tipped back against his broad chest to get a look at the man. Your stranger from the booth. He wore a cocky smirk, but he didn’t come across as full of himself. He was confident. Confident in the way he held your body – big hands splayed over your hips. Confident in the way he danced, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and he did.

“Ain't got no one (no tengo a nadie). That I know of (no tengo a nadie). That I can depend on (no tengo a nadie),”

You let him move your body, turning you around to take your hand in his, pulling you closer to his chest. He smelled like cigarettes and cologne. He’d been watching you, you realized, not the bar. Interested enough in you to follow you out on the dancefloor. It intimidated you, but under the intimidation it also excited you.

He led your movements. You were no dancer, but he made it so easy, spinning you around with ease before pulling you back towards his body. The eye contact was intense, like he was searching for your soul. Santana’s wailing guitar and the stranger’s hand at your waist was the only thing grounding you to the moment.

“I ain't got nobody, that I can depend on (no tengo a nadie),”

The song reached its climactic end. The man spun you one last time before he pulled you tight against his chest. It was like the song’s ending had broken a spell over the two of you, the air of sensuality was gone, and replaced by his genuine smile and breathy laugh.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked you over the funky bassline of Eagles’ One of These Nights.

Wide-eyed, “Please,” was the only thing you could utter.

With a hand resting at the small of your back he led you through the crowd towards the bar, where he got the bartender’s attention immediately.

“An Old Fashioned for me Doug, and…” he looked towards you with a smile.

“Um… a Tequila Sunrise?” you said with a shy smile.

“A Tequila Sunrise, for this beautiful lady,” he told the bartender.

Grabbing one of the bar stools he sat down and gestured for you to do the same. You’d just about sat down before he leaned forward, grabbed a hold of your stool, and pulled you closer to him. A squeal escaped you before it turned into a giddy laugh.

“Thank you, Doug!” he told the bartender when he returned with your drinks.

“On a first name basis with the bartender– you here often?” you asked him, taking a sip of your drink.

“Not as often as I’d liked– it’s my lil’ brother’s club,” he told you, taking a sip of his own drink.

“You’re Tommy’s brother?” you wondered with a frown, a little shocked.

“You know Tommy?” he asked, equally shocked.

You shrugged, “Yes– well… not really.”

He took another sip of his drink, eyes urging you to go on.

“I met him earlier– he’s… well,” you didn’t know how to explain it, “I’m here with my friend Deborah, and I guess her and Tommy are…” you trailed off.

“Fuckin’?” he finished for you, grin wide on his face.

You only nodded, swallowing down another sip of your drink.

“Yeah, I’ve heard all about Deborah…” he trailed off with a look on his face like he knew a secret, “… but nothing about her beautiful friend.”

You huffed out a laugh and turned your head, heat traveling up your neck to your cheeks, “I’m not sure there’s much to know.”

“How about your name?” he suggested.

You turned back to look at him, really look at him.

Had Deborah set him up for this?

You wouldn’t put it past her if she had. She was always urging you to go out with her. To clubs, to parties in The Hills, on double dates. You wanted to go, you really did, but a voice in the back of your head always held you back. You’d thought moving to LA would be the remedy. All alone in a big city would surely help you come out of your shell, right? The harsh reality had been that LA hadn’t magically fixed you. You’d thought you’d be a completely different person here, but you’d packed your insecurities in your baggage. The only person who was gonna help you out of your shell, you’d started to realize… was you.

Putting on a brave face, disguised as a friendly smile, you gave him your name. The man was silent for a moment, nodding as he brought his lips to the rim of his glass again, taking another sip of his drink. It made you hold your breath.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said eventually with an easy grin. His compliment sent a warmth to your cheeks, while you fought an urge to squinch your face with embarrassment.

After a second of silence, you raised a brave eyebrow at him, “What about your name? Or shall I just call you Tommy’s brother?”

He chuckled lightly, eyes glinting, before he cleared his throat, “Name’s Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeated with a nod, making his cocky smile wider. Tasting his name on your tongue, you decided it sounded pleasant on your lips.

“So– you’re Deb’s friend?” Joel started, to which you confirmed with a nod. “How come she’s never brought you ‘round before?” he wondered with a sip of his drink.

You gave him a relaxed shrug, “I’m not much of a drinker– if I’m honest.”

He leaned forward, like he was about to whisper a secret to you, “You are aware of the fact that you’re in a club, aren’t you?” he teased.

Your mouth dropped open before you playfully rolled your eyes at him, “Shut up,” you said, “I’m not usually much of a drinker… at least not without good reason.”

“So, what’s the good reason?” Joel asked, raising a single eyebrow, “Boyfriend dumped ya?”

“Boss dumped me, actually…” you corrected, “I got fired.”

Joel sucked some air between his teeth, “Ouch… you better get another drink, then.” He turned his body towards the bar to casually raise a hand, getting the attention of Doug.

You let out a scoffing laugh, shaking your head at his teasing tone, “Maybe I will.”

As you finish your Tequila Sunrise, Joel ordered you another one, and one for himself. You felt hot to the touch. The alcohol coursed through your body like liquid courage, it traveled through your bloodstream, greasing the part of yourself where your confidence laid dormant.

“What did you work as?” he asked, sipping his own Tequila Sunrise.

“I am–was…” you corrected, “a personal assistant.”

“A good one?” Joel wondered.

Taking a large sip of your drink, you tried to swallow down your failure.

“You’d have to ask my boss,” you breathed out.

“The one that fired ya?” he returned with a cocky smile, and you fought an urge to roll your eyes.

Sitting up a little straighter you narrowed your eyes at him, “What do you do, then? If you’re so good at your job?”

“Never said I was good at it,” he shrugged, cocky grin not going anywhere.

“You gonna make me ask you again?” you deadpanned, your shyness shedding with every sip of your drink.

Joel looked amused, like he was in on a secret only he knew. You continued to stare at him, raising a challenging eyebrow at his continued silence.

“I’m an actor,” he confessed.

You couldn’t hide the impressed look that crossed your face. Sure, you’d been in LA for three years, he wasn’t the first actor you’d met, and he for sure wouldn’t be the last, but it was something about the way he said it.

“A good one?” you used his own words against him, making him chuckle.

He took another sip of his drink, “I’d like to think so,” he smiled, looking at you over the rim of his glass.

“Anything I’d know?” you wondered, watching him put his glass down.

The corners of his mouth twitched into what looked like an ironic smirk, “God, I kinda of hope not,” he said, eyes trailing the scratches and dents in the dark wood of the bar.

You both went quiet, as you sipped your drinks. You’d started to wonder if you’d maybe said something wrong, when Joel cleared his throat.

“Not to mix business with pleasure–” he started, turning towards you, mouth twitching again at the innuendo, “but I happen to be looking for an assistant.”

“Oh, really?” you deadpanned, convinced he was pulling your leg.

“You don’t believe me?” he breathed out a chuckle.

“Let’s see: a strange man dances with me in a club,” you held up a finger, “then buys me a drink, then offers me a job? I may not be from around here, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that one.” You laughed with a shake of your head.

As you laughed, it hit you how easily you found it to jest with Joel. Usually, you were the quiet one. The one observing or just listening, always too shy to joke freely, especially with people you didn’t know, but somehow, in this moment you felt free. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was getting fired. Or maybe… it was Joel.

“Well, believe it or not, I ain’t fibbin’… it really depends on how much you need a job,” he took another sip of his drink.

“I just got fired,” you said matter of factly.

Joel gave you an infuriatingly innocent shrug, “Then you better start believing me when I say I’m looking for an assistant.”

You couldn’t do anything other than scoff in disbelief. “So what?” you asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow, “You’re just gonna offer me a job after knowing me for barely an hour? No interview or nothing?”

“Do I need to be interviewin’ ya?” he wondered innocently.

“It’s a job!” you spluttered, “You always interview people before you give them a job!”

He gave you a nonchalant shrug. “Then I guess I will… so what can you tell me about yourself? What makes you a good assistant?” he asked, tone genuine as he placed an elbow on the bar counter and rested his head in his hand.

“I don’t mean now!” you let out in a nervous squeak, and Joel seemed to enjoy the way you shifted nervously in your seat.

He shrugged, “Alright then… you got time for coffee? Say… tomorrow mornin’?”

Ten to ten the next morning you met Joel for coffee.

Wanting to give him a good and professional impression – he could be your new employer after all – you’d worn your brown three pieced suit with a purple paisley shirt under your suit vest. It made you feel strong– well usually, right now you couldn’t seem to shake the pre-interview nerves… Anyway, you were hoping your outfit would make Joel think you had your shit together – at least put together enough for him to hire you.

With eyes scanning the café, you found him at a table by the window, smoking a cigarette. When you approached him, heels clicking against the hardwood floor, he checked his watch.

“Ten minutes early!” he remarked with a grin.

“Reliability and punctuality are good qualities in a new employee, I’ve heard.” You shot him a shy smile before you placed your bag on the floor by your chair.

He hummed, watching you with an easy smile as you sat down opposite him while shedding your jacket. The white smoke danced in front of his face like coiling ribbons. Clad in a striped polo with a Johnny collar he’d tucked into a pair of Levi’s jeans, he relaxed in his chair, shifting slightly, and spreading his legs wider. The movement, like a reflex, drew your eyes to his lower half. His Levi’s were tight, held in place by a big western belt buckle, but it wasn’t his belt buckle that caught your attention.

“So…” he started. His voice startled you, and you flicked your eyes back to his face. His playful smile told you he’s caught you checking him out. Embarrassed, you looked past him, not daring to make eye contact as you fought the urge to cringe.

“How are ya?” he took another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth.

“I’m–I’m good thank you,” you gave him a nervous smile, the confidence from last night gone with the rise of the sun, “how are you?”

“I’m good too, sweetheart,” he nodded, “wanna have this interview…? Or should I just tell you now you’re hired?”

Perplexed, your eyebrows met in a furrow, “What do you mean?”

“Honey, I already decided last night I’d hire you,” he grinned with another drag of his cigarette.

“I–… I mean are you sure?” you stuttered, “I brought my resume and references and everything– don’t you want to take a look at them?” you wondered, a hand dropping to your bag to fish out your newly typed resume and references. You tapped the papers against the table before placing them neatly in front of him.

Retracting your hands, you rested them in your lap, while you watched him. He placed his cigarette in his mouth before he picked up your resume. His eyes scanned the paper, his head nodding slightly.

“Graduated high school in 1970… A year as a cashier at Piggly Wiggly…” he started listing, his cigarette dipping with each word, “A year at Greasy Motors?”.

“Um– yes!” you peeped, “It’s my uncle’s garage shop– I worked as their secretary,” you told him, picking at the skin around your nails.

“You any good with cars?” he asked, one eyebrow raised as he took one last drag of his cigarette.

“No–No not really… I just spoke to the customers, answered the phone and stuff like that.”

You’d wanted to learn some of the basics, but you’d quickly given up. None of the guys had taken you seriously, and they had made sure to let you know where your place was – it was not with your hands deep in an engine.

Joel hummed at your answer and stubbed out his cigarette. “And Mr. Cooper’s the one that fired ya?” he asked.

You gave him a short nod. Your pointer finger burned with pain as you pulled at a piece of skin you’d picked loose around your nail.

“Why?”,

“The honest answer?” you sighed, and he nodded.

“I don’t know,” you told him, “he just called me into his office at the end of the day and told me he was gonna have to let me go– I was honestly too shocked to ask him why.”

“Oof,” Joel frowned.

“Yeah,” you sighed, you didn’t know what else to say.

“Well… you’ve given me a great impression, both last night and right now, so you’ve got the job, sweetheart– if you want it.” He leaned back in his chair, letting your resume fall from his hands.

“It can’t be that easy, can it?” the words fell from your lips before you had time to think. Joel raised a curious eyebrow at you. “I mean what’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch.”

He seemed to think about it for a beat, “Unless there is…” Joel’s lips tugged at the corners as he leaned over the table, “Remember I said I was an actor?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.

You gave him a skeptical nod.

“I’m an adult actor…” he lowered his voice, “You understand?” he asked before he leaned back in his seat again.

An adult actor. Your eyes widened with realization.

“Wait… you mean,” you looked around you before you leaned forward over the table like he’d just done, “you’re a pornstar?” you whispered, feeling your cheeks start to burn with embarrassment.

“Is that a problem for you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Was it? Was it a problem for you?

The question tugged at the back of your neck. Tugged on your childhood, on your upbringing. You’d escaped; had your own apartment now, made your own money. You were trying to come into your own, to finally be your own person.

With teeth digging into your bottom lip, you looked at Joel. He watched you expectantly, head tipping slightly to the right as he studied you. There was no malice in his eyes, and nothing about him seemed grimy or obscene… Nothing about him screamed pornstar. If someone like him could do something so… unusual, for a job, maybe wasn’t so bad.

“No,” you decided, “it’s not a problem.”

“Groovy!” he grinned, “I’ll have my manager draw up a contract for you.”

And just like that you were officially Joel Miller’s, aka the infamous Joel Packer, personal assistant.

Joel sat on the tiled steps outside his house, smoking a cigarette, when you pulled up to the curb. He perked up when he saw you, grabbing his worn leather duffel bag before he waltzed down his driveway.

“Cab for Miller?” you joked through the rolled down window, ducking your head to peek up at him.

He chuckled at your joke, pinching his cigarette between two fingers for one last drag, before putting it out with a twist of his shoe. The smog laid low over LA this morning, like a blanket. It was gonna be a long day, and a long drive.

Letting out a small grunt, Joel got in your car. The smell of cigarettes and cologne – the smell of him – filled the space between you. He twisted around tossing his duffel bag into the backseat, and your eyes couldn’t help but land on his bicep, watching the way his muscles flexed under the weight. You felt a sudden urge to roll down the window a little further.

When he turned back around, the smooth wood of your steering wheel looked extremely interesting.

“Thanks for drivin’, sweetheart. My car’s still in the shop for ‘nother few days.”

The corner of your mouth twisted into a small smile, “No problem, Joel.”

“Are we all set?” he breathed out his question before his hands landed on his thighs with a dull smack!

“Um, yes, it’s just…” you turned to look at him. He was dressed casually in jeans and a Steely Dan concert tee – All-American Tour ’74 – with his yellow tinted pilot sunglasses tucked into his neckline.

“Just what, sweetheart?”,

“I picked up a package for you– it’s in the backseat,” you cocked your head in the direction.

“What is it?” he twisted back around, one hand searching for the cardboard box behind his seat.

Even in the smoldering LA heat, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks heat up. “Um… it’s your package.”

“Yeah, I got that, honey– but what is it?” he asked again, twisting his hand back and placing the cardboard box in his lap.

You let out a small whine, “Don’t make me say it Joel– it’s your package.” You gestured a hand over your nether region.

Joel looked at you with a mischievous smile spreading across his face, “Oh, now I really wanna hear you say it,” he teased, hooking his finger under the tape.

“It’syourdick,” you said quickly, “–the dildo.”

In another step towards furthering Joel Packer’s success, he’d been asked to model for a sextoy. It’s no surprise he’d been asked. With the women’s liberation movement gaining more and more followers every day, more women had been exploring their own sexuality. Joel was popular with both men and women. He was like a chameleon when it came to porn. He knew just what to give, whether that would be hardcore porn, tossing his scene partners around and making them come until they couldn’t anymore; or doing full frontal nudity for a centerfold for Playgirl.

With a drag of the tape, Joel laughed, his shoulders shaking. “I can’t believe you’re still shy about that stuff, sweetheart. You’ve been workin’ for me for how long now, huh? And you still can’t say dick to my face– what do you say to my business partners? Wiener?”

“I’m not shy,” you denied rather unconvincingly, making him shoot you an unimpressed look making you flutter. “I don’t know… it’s just different saying it to you!”

“Why?” he asked, pulling out the box with the dildo he’d modeled for.

Your eyes followed his hands, running over the pink packaging, the handsome photo they’d used of him on the front.

“I-I don’t know… it just is.”

A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he hummed – not convinced. Instead, he opened the box, pulling out the sextoy. The company had sent him one before they’d hit the shelves at the end of the month. They were being advertised in Playgirl first – to build up the hype. The sextoy looked exactly like him, and at the same time, nothing like him. The size and shape were true to life (8 inches like they’d advertised on the box), but the color was wrong.

“This is so fuckin’ weird,” he laughed, turning it in his hand, “’s this what I look like?”

“The color looks wrong,” you pointed out. He looked over at you for a beat and then back to the sextoy.

“’s a little… plastic-y,” he commented, “and weird lookin’ without the balls…”

He put the dildo back in the box before he handed it to you. You shook your head and turned the car key, “Just put it back in the backseat.”

“No, ‘s not what I meant,” he nudged your arm with the box, “you have it.”

You were glad the car stood still because the shock of his words would’ve made you get in a car accident.

“Why?” you said, a little flustered.

“Exactly what do women do with a dildo, I wonder?” he teased, nudging your arm again.

“No, Joel, that’s just weird– you’re my boss.” You nudged him back before you put the car in drive.

“You prefer the real thing, then?” a teasing lilt still wrapped around his words.

“Shut up,” you huffed, focusing on driving instead.

“I’m just messin’, sweetheart!” he laughed and threw the box messily behind him.

Leaning forward, Joel pushed the play button on your car radio. The cassette deck whirled before a twangy sound of piano filled your car as you started cruising down the road. A few seconds later Joni Mitchell sang the opening lines of the title track ‘Court and Spark’.

“I need you in charge of the map,” you broke the silence between you after a few minutes, “I don’t know where the house is.”

He opened your glove compartment, pulling out your map of California. You focused on the road while he studied the map.

“Looks like we need to get on the 101– it should take about three hours, Ronald said.”

You hummed. Ronald was Joel’s manager. He’d represented Joel for as long as Joel’s been in porn. Ronald was sleazy, and gross, and you tried to only be in his presence when it was absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, for you, Ronald was a good manager, and the reason why Joel Packer was as popular a pornstar as he was.

“When we get to Pismo Beach we’ll just stop and ask around for the address.” Joel said, folding the map.

Usually, Ronald was the one who came along to set with Joel. His reasoning being that there was business to attend to, and that he was supportive of his client, but you knew the real (pervy) reason. You on the other hand had only come along to set a few times. Quick to embarrassment, you’d quickly hid yourself away in Joel’s dressing room, claiming you had work you’d neglected to do.

This time, Ronald couldn’t make it because of scheduling conflicts. Joel was gonna go alone, but then his car had broken down on the 405. He needed a ride, and who else to ask other than the person he paid to help him out. The shoot was taking place at a beach house somewhere in Pismo Beach. You’d never been to Pismo Beach before, and neither had Joel. The booking agent had told you it was nice enough and secluded. Perfect for shooting a porno without bringing too much attention.

Three hours later, you and Joel arrived at the shoot. The beach house was busy and filled with people working like ants to get the film set ready. The shoot was scheduled to last for one day, and as the time flew past 10am, you were starting to get short on time.

As soon as you stepped inside, they ushered Joel straight to make-up and wardrobe. Careful not to be in anybody’s way, you took a look around the house. It was beautiful. Newly built, not more than ten years old you guessed, and right on the beach. Warm wood tones lined the walls and floors, and on the ceilings, sturdy beams met in the middle. A leather couch with matching chairs was turned towards the big floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the beach, and a cowhide rug decorated the floor. They’d set up a step ladder by the windows, all ready for the first scene.

You found Joel a moment later in one of the bedrooms sitting, in a chair as he got his make-up done. You noticed he’d already changed into his costume. A pair of overalls with nothing underneath, and a toolbelt hanging from his hips.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he greeted, his eyes trailing your body.

“Hi,” you smiled, “How you feeling? Can I get you anything?”

He looked at you, a pregnant pause passing between the two of you, “No, not right now.”

“Oh, okay!” you nodded, teeth catching your bottom lip, “Just let me know if there’s anything.”

You moved over to the bed where his clothes were spewed across the bedding. Trying to make yourself useful, you picked them up to fold them.

“D’you know if Tess is ready?” you heard him ask.

Tess was Joel’s scene partner for the day, and also his most frequent scene partner. They’d been in more films together over the past years than you could count, their chemistry always electric. Everything they did was just hot, and this time would be no exception. Tess was playing a neglected housewife all alone in her big beach house until carpenter Joel arrived to help her feel less alone with his tool(s).

“Um, no… I haven’t seen her at all– but I can go find out if you want?” you said, placing his folded t-shirt neatly on the bed.

“No, bless your heart, it’s okay,” he spoke slowly, watching the make-up artist pack up her things before telling him he’s all set.

Left alone with Joel he spoke again, “You gonna watch today?”

His question kicked your heart into gear, stuttering along like a teenager who can’t drive stick. “I-I don’t know yet,” you folded his jeans, “… do you want me to?”

You felt him move closer, but he didn’t answer you. Gathering your courage, you met his eyes. He was watching you with a soft look in his eye, a look he’d sent you more and more often lately.

Grabbing your wrist, his calloused fingers like a warm bracelet, he took his jeans from your hand and placed them down next to his t-shirt.

“I’d like that.”

He said it with a smile, and you couldn’t do anything other than nod.

Joel had started to make you feel lots of things lately. Warm fuzzy feelings bubbled under your skin, just like the warmth from his hand on your wrist right now. Joel was a flirt, cocky and confident. Your complete opposite. You weren’t as shy as you’d been at the start of your job, but you couldn’t help but still be shy around Joel sometimes. Especially when he smiled at you the way he was right now, or when you felt his touch on your body.

The first scene they shot was the intro. A cheesy scene where Joel got invited into Tess the housewife’s home. One too many innuendos about ‘tools’ later, you’d slipped away before lunch time to find the catering table, fixing up a plate for Joel and one for yourself. After lunch, the fun began as the director had said.

“Hey, sweetheart?” Joel’s fingers brushed over the back of your arm, getting your attention. You were about to go sit in his director’s chair, to watch as you’d promised.

“Yeah, Joel?” you looked at him through your lashes, your face curious. You tried very hard to keep them on his face, and not to let them wander to the outline of his hard cock through his overalls.

“Could you go get me some lube?” he asked you, eyes pleading.

“Oh! Um–” you nervously perked up, “Yes, of course,” you nodded, turning around yourself on the spot like you were already on the lookout.

“Thanks!” His hand landed on your shoulder, turning you to focus back on him, fingers rubbed over the material of your shirt. He was smiling at you, a small glint in his eye as he took you in. It made something inside you flutter, your eyes eclipsing over.

“OK guys! Quiet on set!” the director called, pulling you and Joel from your moment. His hand fell from your shoulder, a sorry smile draped across his face.

Slipping away, you went on a hunt for lube. When you came back you were met with the deep grunts of Joel as he got his cock sucked. He was fully naked, standing at the edge of the bed with Tess naked and dutifully on her knees for him – pleasuring him to heaven by the looks of it.

“There you go, baby,” he praised Tess, his big hand entangled in her hair as he pushed himself deeper down her throat. “You like sucking cock, don’t you? Like cheating on your husband like the dirty fuckin’ whore you are, huh?”

You knew he was just reading off his lines, but he said them like he hadn’t practiced at all, it was all so natural. Stumbling backwards towards his director’s chair, you sat down. You felt drawn to the scene before you, caught up in the moment, in the sounds of Joel’s moans and Tess’ spluttering around his cock. Never had you allowed yourself to watch him this openly before – it sent an electric pulse to your core.

Tess gave him head for a few minutes more, filth and praises fell from Joel’s mouth as the cameraman dutifully got every angle. Mesmerized by the scene playing out before you, a small pit started to form in your stomach – a mixture of pleasure and… jealousy. You shifted in the chair at the thought of you on your knees for him instead, pleasuring him and pulling those moans from his lips. Wondering if the praising words he told Tess, would sound different if it was you he told them to instead. You didn’t realize how caught up in the sight in front of you until you heard someone call your name.

It was Joel.

Shaking yourself from your fantasy daydreaming, you pulled yourself together. They’d changed positions while the cameraman changed the film. Joel was now sat on his knees on the bed with his cock standing to attention. On her back, he had Tess’ legs parted and splayed open in front of him.

Why was he talking to you?

He called your name again, figuring you hadn’t heard him over the humming of conversation now filling up the set. You hopped off the chair and nervously scurried over to him.

“What’s up?” you whispered. Your eyes were glued to his face, not daring to glide them even an inch downwards.

He hooked his fingers around your thumb. On his face he was wearing the widest grin, “Could you grab me some water?”

His touch sent your brain into overdrive, your eyes blinking around his question, “Y-yes– I’ll be right back.” His touch fell, and you scurried away to find him some water before they started filming again.

Back, and with a bottle of water in your hand you allowed yourself one quick look at his naked body. His broad chest, the way his muscles moved underneath his tan skin. Your eyes raked over his body, down his stomach, trailing the happy trial down to his impressive cock.

“Okay, everybody– we’re all set!” The loud voice of the director made you jump. Joel handed back the bottled water, a rough hand wiping the corner of his mouth.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

If he’d clocked you checking him out, he didn’t show it. Instead, he got ready while you made your way back to his director’s chair. Tess said something you couldn’t quite catch, but it got his attention. He grinned from ear to ear, a quick look in your direction, before he playfully shook his head at her.

The next scene had you squirming in your seat.

With his head between her legs, Joel used both his mouth and fingers to pleasure her – and Tess was clearly enjoying herself. Her hands were digging into his hair, pushing him greedily down onto her pussy. High pitched, pornographic moans and whimpers escaped her. Joel was clearly enjoying himself too, moaning and groaning into her pussy as he ate her out greedily, making sure to pull every ounce of pleasure from her.

Tess came with a cry, withering breathlessly as she squirmed in Joel’s hold. He held her shaking legs in a tight grip, not letting up his licking and sucking until he’d pulled another orgasm from her. With a breathless laugh she pushed him away, big wide smile spreading as he peppered kisses to the inside of her thigh. You shifted slightly in your seat. An unmistakable wetness had gathered in your panties. You crossed your leg over the other, subtly.

With a tap to her thigh Joel encouraged Tess to turn over. He sat up, resting back on his heels as he stroked his cock languidly. Tess moved onto all fours, arching her back and putting herself on display for him. The camera moved in closer, a watchful eye, as Joel ran a finger through her folds.

“So wet for me, baby,” he said, replacing his fingers with the head of his cock. “This pussy’s been neglected, hasn’t it? ‘s just dying to be fucked.”

He thrusted inside her, burying himself in her pussy, moans and groans falling from both their lips. You felt the air stand still for a beat, before he pulled back and thrusted back inside. They quickly built up a rhythm, skin slap slap slapping, as their moans held the tune. They moved in sync. Joel kept up the pace, hands holding her waist firmly, while Tess met them with a breathy moan. When she gripped the sheets in pleasure, you wondered if it really felt as good as she let on, or if it was all just part of the show.

“Face the camera,” the director interrupted suddenly. He wanted a close up of Tess getting fucked.

Joel slipped out of her, the bright lights catching on his glistening cock. The sight of Tess’ arousal reminded you, and the bottle of lube in your lap, about your insignificancy. Joel quickly slipped back inside Tess, a hand gripping her shoulder as he picked up the pace again.

“Just like that, baby, you feel so fuckin’ good around my cock.”

You felt silly, the reality of what you’d just done settling in. Why on earth would you agree to watch Joel? Pornstar or not, he’s still your boss. Your longing for him to be something else, would never erase that fact.

Disappointment was a heavy rope tying you down. You needed to get out of there before you hurt your own feelings. Sliding out of the chair, you left the bottle of lube. Straightening out your suede skirt, let out a quiet sigh. You didn’t want to look at him, but something drew you to him either way.

You locked eyes immediately, his eyes were dark and intense. He picked up the pace, Tess almost screaming with pleasure underneath him, but his eyes still didn’t leave yours. You couldn’t look away. The world narrowed until the only thing you could see was him.

With a grunt and a firm thrust, Joel came inside her, mouth parted in pleasure and eyes never leaving yours.

Squeezed into a flimsy plastic chair, feet planted steadily in front of him, Joel sat smoking a cigarette by the pool. Ripples of blue swam across his face, before giving way to the soft warmth of the burning cigarette. He looked deep in thought as you got out of your car, a plastic bag of take-out swinging from your hand. You slammed the door shut, jolting Joel from his thoughts. The evening wind softly kissed your bare arms as you walked across the parking lot to the fenced in pool area.

The shoot had run long and by the time it was over, it was late. Joel was tired, and when he’d suggested you stay at a motel for the night, you’d been quick to agree. Watching the darkening sky, you’d started to dread the three-hour drive back to LA – you’d rather wait for daylight.

Situated right off the main road Joel had spotted a Motel 6 with the neon ‘Vacancy’ light humming. With tired steps you’d walked together towards the lobby, and the lady at the desk didn’t look up from her magazine when you and Joel approached. Behind her, coming through the door to the back office, you heard a laugh track.

Joel turned on his southern charm, “’Scuse me, ma’am.”

The receptionist still didn’t look up from her magazine.

“Do y’all have two rooms vacant?”

With a sigh, the woman looked up at him, peering over her glasses. “We only have one Queen left.” She smacked her lips together obnoxiously as she spoke, a piece of gum visible in her teeth.

Joel looked over at you, one eyebrow raised. Crossing your arms over your chest, you didn’t know what to say. If they only had one room, they only had one room. You tapped your foot restlessly, made a face like you were thinking it over before you gave Joel a short but affirmative nod. He watched you for another beat, before he turned back around to say, “We’ll take it.”

The room was nothing much; a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room, two chairs and a table tucked into one corner, and a door leading to a small bathroom. First thing Joel did was find a place to put his bag. You didn’t have a bag, only your handbag, you hadn’t planned on not sleeping in your own bed tonight. Joel, on the other hand, always brought a change of clothes to set. He’d told you once he didn’t like to leave in the same clothes he’d arrived in.

As you closed in on Joel by the pool you realized he was still wearing his clothes from this morning. He’d told you he wanted to shower, so you’d gone out to get you both some dinner to give him some privacy. Now you wondered if he’d even had his shower.

“Hungry?” you asked, putting the plastic bag down on the round table beside him.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette, watching you through a cheeky smile, “Starvin’.”

“The only thing open was the roadside diner, so I’m afraid it’s greasy burgers.”

Joel gave you a shrug as you sat down, “Works for me.”

You ate in silence – sloshing coming from the pool and the cicadas hiding in the bushes, filled the air instead. When Joel finished his burger, and started on his fries, he looked up at you.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked you. You were silent for a second, before you looked down at the burger in your hand.

“Er...” you hesitated, not sure what he wanted you to say, “It’s not bad... meat’s a little dry, but–”

Joel interrupted your train of thought with a deep chuckle.

“I meant the porno, darlin’,” he said, using one of the napkins to wipe the corners of his mouth, “not the burger.” A smile pulled at his lips.

“Oh,” you said, and felt your cheeks fire up in embarrassment. You swallowed, buying yourself some time before you gave him a shrug.

“Was good,” you said, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I’m sure your fans will love it!”

“I wasn’t askin’ about them,” Joel said. His gaze felt like it was piercing through you, “Was askin’ you, wasn’t I? Did you like it?”

Despite the desperate embarrassment firing through your veins, you raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me about porn over dinner?”

“Fair point,” he said with a nod, “You’re deflecting, though.”

A small chuckle escaped you, a smile tugging on the corner of your mouth as you shook your head and looked away for a second.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked him, looking back at him, “It’s porn, I’m human... of course I liked it.”

Bingo.

You can see from the corners of Joel’s smile that he’s happy with that answer, and he lets out an agreeing hum.

“See?” he said, his tone teasing, “Was that so hard to admit?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you said through a small scoff, pushing your styrofoam container away from you as you fell back in your chair.

“I am–… what was your favorite part?”

He was grinning hard now. He dug a hand in his back pocket, fishing out his packet of cigarettes and his lighter. You watched him with your head tilted, waiting for him to let you off the hook like he usually did. Instead, he grinned even wider, small splutters of breathy giggles making the cigarette dip as he tried to light it.

“Gimmie that!” you commanded, reaching out your hand for his cigarette. With a surprised eyebrow he took a quick drag before he handed it over. He watched you quietly as you took a breath. Savoring the first tar-y breath filling up your lungs.

“I liked the way you…” you took another drag and exhaled through your nose, “I don’t know…” you handed him the cigarette.

“I’m waitin’,” he teased, making you playfully roll your eyes at him.

“Well,” you sighed, “I liked the way you’re so attentive and made sure she’s feeling good even though it’s acting and everything… Even when you’re like throwing her around, all in charge and stuff.” You waved away the words.

“Yeah, well, that is the most important part of sex,” he gave you a look. Suddenly, he was a little serious. “It’s not fun if she’s not havin’ fun.”

“Not every guy thinks like that, you know,” you spoke, “it’s really nice that you do.”

Joel hummed at your words before a comfortable silence fell over you. You listened to the buzzing cicadas and the burning of Joel’s cigarette every time he took a drag.

“And… the dirty talk was hot too– you’re good at that,” you mused after a moment, breaking the silence, feeling comfortable enough with Joel to tell him the truth. He doesn’t judge you about what you think was sexy, and you realized it felt nice to open up to somebody, to let your suffocating shame die.

“Now, darlin’,” you could hear the smile in his voice, “now you’re just strokin’ my ego.”

“I can stroke more than your ego.”

Joel choked on his cigarette, coughing around the smoke before he looked over at you with wide eyes. “Am I goin’ crazy, or did you just tell a dirty joke?”

Your giggle filled the air between you before you leaned forward for his cigarette again. You brought it to your mouth as you impishly shrugged. Inside, you buzzed with a fluttery feeling.

You smiled at him. “I don’t know– you tell me.”

He playfully narrowed his eyes at you, leaning over the table to get a good look at you, “I’m not sure I’m likin’ this… where’s my sweet girl, huh?”

My sweet girl.

Your heart skipped like stones over water, and you had to look away. A smile blooming across your face. You heard him let out a sweet chuckle before he stood from his chair. The plastic feet scraping ever so slightly against the concrete. You watched him as he stepped before you, squatting down to be at eye level with you, his big hand landing on your exposed knee to steady himself.

“She’s still here,” you whispered after a moment. The cigarette between your fingers was burning out, but your whole body felt like it was on fire, a burning spreading from under his touch.

“I know she is, sweetheart,” he whispered back, his fingers rubbing gently over your skin. Joel looked at you with attentive eyes, “I love how shy you get for me.”

Before you had time to process his words, he pinched the cigarette from your fingers and stood to his feet. “Let’s call it a night?” he asked you, offering up his hand for you to take.

Feeling brave, you took his hand. It dwarfed your own, but it was strong, and warm in your hold. You watched as Joel finished off the cigarette, and stumped it out in the ashtray on the table, before gathering up your trash. You walked back to your room, hands intertwined and swinging between you. You couldn’t shake the thought of how you wished he’d kissed you.

Back inside your room he let you use the bathroom first. It was small, and the air was damp. You could see droplets of water clinging to the shower curtain. Joel did shower after all, he’d rinsed the day off into the drain. With no toiletries, you made do with what the motel offered. A bar of soap was sufficient enough to remove your make-up, but you knew your skin would punish you for it later. After brushing your teeth, you stepped back out where Joel waited for you on the bed.

“I’ve got a spare shirt if you wanna borrow it.” He held up his hand, handing you the clean cotton shirt he’d packed.

“Thanks,” you smiled shyly.

He watched you for a beat, his eyes soft, but tired. “And I’ll sleep in one of the chairs– don’t want ya worryin’ about nothin’.”

Shaking your head, you protested, “No, Joel, you’ve had a long day! I’ll sleep in the chair!”

This time he shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his mouth, “No, darlin’, you’re drivin’ tomorrow, remember? You’ll need your rest.”

Your eyebrows met in a furrow. He was right; you couldn’t do the drive back to LA tomorrow on no sleep, but you couldn’t live with yourself if he didn’t get any sleep either.

“Let’s just…” you trailed off, “You’re tired, I’m tired– let’s both sleep in the bed?” you suggested.

Crawling under the sheets clad in only your underwear and Joel’s t-shirt, you wondered if you were being unprofessional. This was technically a work trip. Joel was still your boss. You looked over at him where he sat on the edge with his back turned, fiddling with the alarm clock. Your eyes trailed over his bare back, tan and strong. You knew you could stare at him all night.

It was official: you’d left professional at the door.

Finally, the alarm clock set for tomorrow morning, Joel put it back on the nightstand. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he caught your eyes on his body. It made him smile.

“Joel? Can I ask you something?”

He got under the sheets, his foot grazing against yours as he got comfortable. “Yeah, sweetheart.”

“Can you turn off the light?”

“You needn’t ask me if you can ask me, to turn off the light,” he laughed, “you can just say ‘Joel, turn off the light’.”

You scrunched your face together. This was coming out all wrong. “No, I mean… I don’t think I can ask you my question with the lights still on.”

He looked you over with a warm smile before he leaned over and turned off the light on his nightstand. “There… what you want to ask me?”

Even bathed in darkness, you hesitated to speak. “Um… I guess…” you started, not knowing how to ask what you wanted to ask. You turned over on your back and stared at the ceiling, cursing the return of your shyness.

Joel waited for you patiently to gather your courage.

“How much… of porn, is fake?” you finally uttered.

Joel turned to his side, facing you, “What do you mean?”

“Like… when– when the girls…” You couldn’t say it.

“Come?”, he helped.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “is that real or… like– do they actually like it?”

“Right…”

Joel thought about your question, “’s hard to say… I mean mostly it’s real– at least in my experience– like I can feel it around my cock or fingers… but everybody has off days, and not everybody can come from penetration.”

Mostly it’s real. You went quiet, silently thinking about his answer as you stared a hole in the ceiling. Not everybody can come from penetration.

“Why you askin’ me this, sweetheart?” He shifted a little closer.

You pulled your hands from under the sheets, resting them over your chest. Your thumb on your right hand found your thumb on the left where it picked at the skin.

“Huh?”

“I– I don’t know… it’s silly.”

“No, ‘s not– you’re not silly, sweetheart.” He shifted a little closer, a reassuring hand falling over your own and stopping you from picking at your fingers.

You didn’t say anything, and you didn’t look at him either. You felt silly. You’d just complimented him earlier about how attentive he comes across in bed, and now you’re asking him if any of it was even real.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Joel asked, breaking the silence between you.

Nodding your head, you hummed.

“Are you a virgin?”

His question almost made you jump. Suddenly, his previously calming hands over yours felt heavy. A fire started in your cheeks. You were mortified, and it felt crazy. If you were back home right now, you’d be mortified to tell anyone you weren’t a virgin seeing as you were unmarried. Now, with Joel, you felt mortified he thought you were one.

“No,” you peeped. It would’ve sounded like a lie if it wasn’t the truth. “W-what makes you say that?” You finally looked at him, your eyes wide as saucers.

Unconvinced, he gave you a lopsided smile, “How many have you slept with?”

“How many have you slept with?” you mumbled.

“Honey, we both know that I’ve slept with way too many to count.” He said it with a teasing lilt to his voice, and a comforting rub of his thumb over the back of your hand. His small touch was enough to relax you, to bring you back from the ledge of mortification. This was Joel for god’s sake. He would never judge you; you knew that.

“One…” you whispered, “Only one person.”

With a hum, Joel shifted over to lay on his back, but his thumb still rubbed circles over your skin. “So– you’re asking me this ‘cause it was bad?” he mused.

“I don’t know… maybe,” you whispered.

“You don’t know if it was bad– or you don’t know why you’re askin’ me if women enjoy sex?”

“The latter,”

“So, it was bad,” he concluded, before he whispered, mostly to himself.

The silence was back, speaking loudly between the two of you as you both processed what the other had just said. After a beat Joel turned back on his side to face you again.

“Tell me– how bad was it?” He said it softly, a tenderness in his voice you hadn’t heard before.

“It just… it hurt.”

You sighed, and for the first time since the light went out you turned your head to look at him. “John–” your face scrunched up in a grimace as you spoke his name, like you couldn’t believe you were telling him this story. “He worked in accounting, and we were going around, you know? Went on a few dates. He was a sweet guy. After the third date we went back to his place, for a drink. He kissed me– and then we were making out, and during everything I just thought ‘This might as well happen’. I thought I wanted to lose my virginity… and I liked John– so why not. But then he just… pulled off my underwear, didn’t even touch me and… went to town.”

Joel sucked a breath through his teeth, his hand gripping yours a little tighter. “Did you– have you ever had an orgasm?”

You shifted uncomfortably under his question and turned your head back towards the ceiling again. “Yes,” you whispered.

Joel moved a little closer, and you felt your body dip towards him from his weight against the mattress. His hand resting over yours traveled down your arm, and under the sheet.

“By your own hand then,” he said it more like a statement than a question.

You felt your heart beat out of your chest, as something in the air between you shifted. Underneath the covers your body burned. Sucking in a breath, you held it for a moment before you nodded.

“Show me.”

His hand grazed over your waist, fingers dancing over the exposed skin between the hem of his t-shirt and the waistband of your panties. You reveled in it, his touch, his proximity, his gentle kiss to your shoulder. You looked at him, searched his face for any indication that he was just messing with you.

“No? Ain’t feelin’ it?” He’d watched you too, you realized.

He withdrew his hand from your waist, and you panicked, “No!”

He stopped, instead hovering his hand over your body. “No, you ain’t feelin’ it, or no, don’t stop?” he asked you.

You panicked again. “Yes!” you said before your eyebrows met in a furrow, “I-I’m sorry, this isn’t very sexy.”

Joel withdrew his hand from your body, and your disappointment sank like a rock in water, but then he cupped your jaw and you forgot to breathe.

“Forget about sexy, sweetheart,” he told you, a calloused thumb rubbing against your skin, “not that you ain’t sexy– you are, but I need you to relax, okay?”

You nodded, and a smile spread wide across his face,

“Good girl.”

You almost mewled at the praise, and he noticed, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

“You liked that, huh?” he teased, rubbing his thumb softly over your lower lip, “Y’like being a good girl for me?”

You found it hard to think with him so close, breathless when he touched you like this. You nodded slowly; moony eyes fixated on him. Like a reflex, your legs rubbed together under the sheets, aching to relieve the pressure building.

“You’re so sweet, baby– and shy,” his voice was low, like he was afraid someone would hear him. Slowly he leaned closer, pressing the softest kiss to your neck. A quiet whimper fell from your lips.

You felt Joel’s smile against your skin, teeth nipping as he pressed kiss after kiss to your sensitive skin. “You make my cock so fuckin’ hard.”

“Joel,” you finally choked out, a wet patch already soiling your panties.

“Yes?” he took your earlobe in his mouth, gently biting down on it before letting it go. You couldn’t think – at least not about something that wasn’t Joel and his touch.

“P-please kiss me?” you tried, your hand landing on his shoulder.

His breath puffed against your skin in a small chuckle, before he lifted his face from his new home in the crook of your neck. He found your blown out face, watching you with a tenderness in his eye. A beat passed and then he leaned closer, brushing his lips over yours. Your hand on his shoulder followed his neck to cup his face, keeping him close to you. His hand pushed gently at the sheets, revealing your upper body to him. The kiss was tender and slow, your noses pressed together. He pulled you apart and then put you together again. One of his hands trailed along the hem of your – his – t-shirt where he pushed at the fabric, bunching it just below your breasts. You broke apart.

“Was that all you wanted, sweet girl? Just a kiss?” His forehead touched your own, words low and taunting. You slowly shook your head, eyes still locked with Joel’s. His hand moved methodically, trailing down your stomach until it reached…

Your breath hitched in your throat.

“No?” he asked with a teasing grin, “What do you want then, sweetheart?”.

He already knew. His open palm cupped you over your soaked panties, the breadth of it pressing firmly down on your clit. You mewled under him, hips bucking up to meet his hand.

“Nah-ah,” he lifted his head from your forehead, dark eyes boring into yours. “You need to show me.”

Joel had started a dangerous fire inside of you. It lapped at your insides, burned away your insecurities, and replaced them with lust. With a shaky hand, your hand found Joel’s. His eyes were still locked on you – his gaze burning your cheek and branding you his.

“There you go,” he praised, letting you guide his hand up and down your clothed cunt, feeling your arousal seep through the fabric, “good girl.”

You guided him to your clit, pressing the pads of his finger down on it in tight circles. You were so sensitive – on edge since you watched him filming earlier – a small moan fell from your lips.

“Feels good doesn’t it, baby, getting your clit rubbed.”

“Yes…” Joel drew another moan from you.

Your grip around his hand loosened, and Joel took over. With a practiced hand he circled his fingers just right. He started with a steady pace and tight circles, before he put more pressure on your aching bud. He was bringing you closer and closer to the edge, coaxing small whimpers and breathy moans from your lips as you got more and more lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

“Have you ever fingered yourself, sweetheart?” he asked you, dipping his hand beneath your panties. A bold finger ran through your folds, a finger teasing at your entrance.

Your front teeth caught your lower lip, and you had to bite down to suppress a moan. It was hard to concentrate on what he was asking you when he was touching you like that.

“Y-yes, but…” you trailed off, feeling his finger, now coated in your arousal, back on your clit. It made your brain go blank.

“But what, sweet girl?” he pulled his hand from your panties, and you whined.

A wet trail followed him up your stomach. When you made no move to answer, a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Leaning closer he pressed a short but tender kiss to your lips; his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow.

“It’s too messy,” you said when he pulled back, shaking your head.

“Yeah? You’ve got a messy pussy, sweetheart?”

Joel leaned down again, pressing soft fluttering kisses down your throat. When he reached the collar of your shirt, he pulled at the fabric, exposing your collarbone to his kisses. Your hands found his hair, tethering you to the moment.

“Yes,” you whispered, heat burning your cheeks at the confession he pulled from you.

With a wide grin, Joel sat up. His fingers found the hem of your shirt. He helped you pull it over your head, exposing your naked chest to him. Not even a second later he was back to kissing his way down your body, worshiping you with every press. You burned under him, every kiss like a small death.

Shifting on the bed, he settled between your legs. His mustache tickled the skin on your tummy, making you giggle. You felt Joel’s smile against your skin, at the sound of your fluttering laugh. He let his lips brush over your skin, trailing downwards to the top of your panties where he pressed a kiss, teeth pulling at the small bow like you were a present to be unwrapped, before his fingers hooked around the elastic. With a lift of your hips, you let him pull off your panties. The wet spot in the center clung to your cunt, as he peeled them off.

“Fuck,” he cursed, “wanna taste you, baby, wanna taste that messy pussy.”

With his fingers back on your cunt, you jumped a little under his touch. The air filled with a slick sound of your arousal as he ran them through your folds, a finger teasing your entrance.

“Relax for me baby,” he soothed, gently pressing kisses to the soft skin of your inner thigh, “I’ll take care of you.”

Looking down at him between your legs, you let yourself go. His eyes bored into yours. Warmth and lust, and nothing but affection behind them.

You nodded, “Please.”

A wide grin blossomed across Joel’s face as he leaned down, hovering just above your clit. He ducked forward, pressing the softest kiss to your clit, taking it slow and easing you into it with slow licks. You couldn’t help the whimpers escaping you, a needy sound desperate for more – more Joel. He pinned you down with his arm splayed over your tummy, keeping you right where he wanted you, turning you into a withering moaning mess under him.

Joel continued exploring you with his tongue. Changing between flicking and lapping at your clit, circling it just right, and wrapping his lips around it, giving it gentle sucks. He lapped at your folds, the hook of his nose catching on your clit as he tasted you properly. You felt yourself pushed closer and closer towards the edge, coxed by Joel.

Two careful fingers spread you apart, gliding up and down, coated in your arousal. He easily found your entrance to push a finger carefully inside. You felt yourself clench down on him; you couldn’t help it. You were so sensitive and so close. Dropping your mouth open, a breathy moan escaped.

“Oh, fuck,”

Joel hummed against your pussy, the vibrations traveling straight to the coil tightening in your tummy. Slowly, he started thrusting his finger inside, rewarded by a slick sound, telling him just how wet and desperate you were for him. With a moan your head rolled back into the pillow – you were so close.

“Joel,” you panted.

His tongue continued his assault on your clit, and you lost yourself in him. You clamped down on his finger with every thrust. You didn’t know how much longer you could take it. Joel was so focused on you, so attentive, so responsive. Between your legs he drank in every twist of pleasure and whimpering moan.

“Joel,” you panted again.

“You’re gonna come for me aren’t you, sweetheart? Be a good girl and make a mess on my face.” he coaxed.

Joel quickly withdrew his finger to slip in another, and the new stretch had your legs shaking. His tongue circled your clit, sucking it with just the right amount of pressure. Underneath him you squirmed, breathy moans hitching in your throat.

“Oh, god,”

You couldn’t answer him. Couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t take it anymore.

With a silent cry, you came. His strong arm over your tummy held you down, as you twitched against the mattress, legs shaking. You’d never felt anything like this before. A pleasure so all-consuming you couldn’t remember your name, or where you were – only Joel. He helped you through it. His fingers kept up their pace, pads brushing right up against that spot of bliss, as you clenched down hard around them. You gripped the sheets, desperate for a lifeline as you came down.

Joel slowed down his fingers, pressing soft kisses to your clit. Your pleasure turning to overstimulation – now you definitely couldn’t take it anymore. Fragile and sensitive, you pushed him away with a shaky hand.

He let you push him around, his lips finding the inside of your thighs instead, where his mustache teased the sensitive skin. With one last kiss, Joel pulled away. You almost didn’t register the dip in the mattress as he laid down beside you. You were somewhere else entirely, floating away on a post-orgasm-cloud.

“Joel, shit, I…” you tried to speak, your voice hoarse with exhaustion.

“I know, sweetheart,” Joel answered. He pulled you closer, wrapping a hand around you. Slowly, you turned to your side, engulfed in Joel’s embrace.

“D-did you want to–”

You could feel the presence of his hard clothed cock pressed against your ass, but his big safe arms around you told you a different story. He nosed at the back of your neck, pressing fluttering kisses to the skin, making goosebumps erupt.

“No, darlin’, not tonight,” his voice was just above a whisper, the bass vibrating against your ear.

“Are you sure? I-I mean– we can if you want to,” you spluttered. He’d just given you the best orgasm in your life, he shouldn’t have to go to bed without one for himself.

“Not tonight,” he said, pressing a kiss behind your ear, “It’s been a long day– I’m tired, you’re tired… let’s just sleep, my sweet girl.”

“S-should we talk about this?” you asked, your hand slipping into his, pressing it against your naked chest.

“In the mornin’,” he hummed, voice coated in sleep.

With heavy eyelids, you fell asleep in Joel’s arms. The safety of being wrapped up in him, lulled you into a peaceful slumber. The motel bed was hard and uncomfortable, and the pillow thin and flimsy, but it didn’t matter in Joel’s arms.

Morning came too quickly, and with a screeching sound of an alarm clock that pulled you from heaven. Jolting awake behind you, Joel groaned. His hands slipped from your body; the warmth exchanged with prickling goosebumps. You shifted over on your back, watching as Joel turned off the alarm. The beeping stopped, and with a tired grunt Joel laid down back beside you. When he looked at you – his tired eyes glinting – a sleepy smile pulled at his lips.

“Mornin’,”

“Good morning, Joel” you smiled back.

“It is a good mornin’, isn’t it?” he hummed, turning on his side.

You mirrored him, shifting closer and resting your head on his pillow. He snaked a hand over the dip in your waist, big hand splaying over your naked back.

“It is,” you agreed, locking eyes with him.

Rubbing in slow circles, his hand on your back was soothing. You reveled in it, reveled in Joel, in the bliss of being so close to him. You shifted even closer, resting your forehead to his chest.

“You should probably fire me,” you mumbled into his skin, “I’ve been extremely unprofessional.”

A chuckle came from deep inside Joel, it vibrated through his skin, where you felt it under your fingertips.

“I ain’t firin’ my best employee,” he laughed, placing a dry kiss to the top of your head.

You pulled away with a frown, head back on your own pillow. “This is like the cliché of clichés, Joel– sleeping with your assistant…”

In the bright light of the day, you cursed yourself for your late-night moment of weakness. You’ve never done anything like this before. What if this will be all that Joel wants from you from now on? You don’t think your heart could take it if it was.

Joel’s laugh died in his throat, his eyebrows meeting in a frown. “Who said anything about sleepin’ with my assistant?”

Your eyes widened with mortification. Shit. A hand came up to rub at your face, as you sat up, pulling the sheets around you.

“Hey, no, sweetheart,” Joel grabbed at your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

You couldn’t look at him – afraid tears would push behind your eyes. He’s a pornstar, what were you thinking? You were just a girl. A girl to warm his bed for a night. How could you put your job on the line for something like this?

The sheets rustled as he shifted closer, “Please, lay down, I need to talk to you.”

“Joel, I-I’m sorry– w-we can just forget about it– I’ll quit, don’t worry about it– me, don’t worry about me,” you stuttered out, your back still turned.

“I ain’t forgettin’ about nothin’, sweetheart– shit, d’you think I do this often?”

His question made you turn around. He was propped up on his elbow, carefully watching you.

You nodded, and he sighed.

“It’s been years since I’ve slept with someone outside of work,” he confessed, “Shit, I don’t even seek it out, I ain’t interested in it.”

“I-I’m sorry Joel, I–” you started, but he cut you off,

“You’re not listenin’,” he shook his head, “what I’m sayin’ is: I wanna sleep with you.”

Your face scrunched up in a confused frown, “Because I’m someone from work?”

Joel let out a breathless chuckle, “No, sweetheart, ‘s because I think you’re beautiful.”

His words almost didn’t register.

“What?”

This time his laugh is loud and golden, coated in happiness. He pulled at your hand, and you fell, your back hitting the sheets.

“You are…” he emphasized, cupping your cheek, and guiding you back in his embrace. “And you’re a shy little thing, aren’t you? But so smart, and kind, and caring– someone you can’t help but fall in love with.”

“Fall in love with?” you repeated, you couldn’t believe what he was telling you.

“Yeah, sweet girl,” he smiled at you, all teeth, and crinkles around his eyes in the morning light.

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” he laughed, guiding your face closer to his, his lips brushing over yours, “wanna make you mine, sweetheart.”

His kiss stole your breath and twisted you up inside. He licked at the seam, and you opened yourself to him. He licked into your mouth, one arm snaked around your body, drawing you closer, pulling whine after desperate whine from you and stealing your breath.

Landing on your hip, his hand traveled downwards – over the thick of your thigh, and down the inside in smooth motions. He tugged on your leg, pulling it to rest over his hip, his hard cock rutting into your bare heat. His kiss got more desperate; his tongue melded with yours. It was hot, and dizzying and all-consuming all at the same time.

You grinded against him, feeling his hard cock against you. The fabric of his underwear caught on your clit, rubbing it just right, your arousal darkening the fabric. You moaned into his mouth, a desperate need for Joel building deep in your stomach.

With a rut of his hips, he broke away from your kiss. “You want me to fill up this perfect little pussy, don’t you baby?” His hand on your cheek disappeared between your bodies.

“Yes,” you tried to say, but the words got stuck in your throat when you felt the head of Joel’s cock rub up and down your folds. Your heavy breathing, the slick sound of your arousal the only sound in the room.

“Listen’ baby, y’hear how wet you are for me?” he whispered in awe, the head of his cock caught on your clit. You braced yourself with a hand to his shoulder, breathy pants the only sounds leaving your lips.

“You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” he chuckled. He let go of the grip around his cock, the sound of it slapping against his stomach obscene. A beat later he swiped his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal before drawing tight circles to your clit.

Your face squeezed shut in pleasure, your fingers dug into his shoulder. He eased a finger inside, before he quickly pulled out and added another. The stretch of his fingers was easy, your arousal dripping over his knuckles as he thrusted them inside with ease.

You grinded down on his hand, meeting his thrusts, forcing his fingers deeper inside. Always so attentive, Joel curled his fingers where they hit your spot perfectly, just like he’d done last night. A breathy squeal fell from your lips.

“That’s it, sweetheart, let me hear you,” he egged you on.

“Joel, please,” you panted. Sparks traveled through your body, collecting in a pit in your stomach where it coiled in on itself, aching for release.

He curled his fingers again, and hit your spot – his palm snug against your throbbing clit, “Fuckin’ perfect you are, darlin’, so tight and wet around my fingers.”

“Shit,”

He pushed you straight for the edge, your walls fluttered around his fingers. Your panting got heavier, your eyes squeezed shut, you’re so close. Joel chuckled, his breath puffing your face and he… pulled away.

You whined at the emptiness, opening your eyes to see him staring at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

He cupped your jaw, “Poor baby,” he pouted before he pulled you in for a kiss. You sighed into him, desperate to feel him anyway he wanted.

“Turn around,” he ordered against your lips, his hand letting go of your jaw to tap at the top of your hip.

You did as he told you, turning around in his hold to press your ass against him, feeling his hard cock pressed against you. Behind you, you heard him let out a deep and guttural groan. His hand hooked under your thigh, lifting it to your chest and exposing your wet and desperate cunt for him. You let him manhandle you into the position he wants, trusting him to know what’ll feel the best.

He guided the tip of his cock through your soaked folds coating it in your arousal before grazing it over your throbbing clit.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he whispered in your ear, like a hiss. He lined himself up with your entrance, teasing you, and himself.

“I-I need it, Joel, please,” you begged, a hand clinging to the sheets.

“Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need this big cock to fill you up?” he asked, pushing just the tip inside.

“Joel, please, please,” you whimpered, almost a squeak. In one fluid motion he pushed inside, burying himself to the hilt inside you. The stretch of him was overwhelming, but the angle had you seeing stars.

“Ah– fuck,” you cried, your eyes immediately squeezing shut. Your hand searched for his where it held your leg to your chest. You needed to anchor yourself to him, afraid you’d fall apart right there and then.

“You alright sweetheart?” you heard him whisper in your ear, and you nodded slightly, “Feel good?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whimpered, mouth dipping open in pleasure.

Behind you he groaned into your ear, cursing in hushed whispers. “That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, takin’ all that cock inside,” he pulled out nearly all the way, taking his time with it, moving with practiced motions.

“Shit,” you mewled as he bottomed out inside for the second time. Grinding against your ass, he pushed himself as deep as he possible could – you felt him in your fucking stomach, he was so deep.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” he told you, pulling out and thrusting back inside.

Picking up the pace, Joel started fucking into you deep and hard. With each grind of his hips against your ass, with every thrust, he made sure to bury his thick cock as deep inside as he could, angling his cock expertly so the head rubbed up against your spot. Behind you he grunted and moaned in your ear. It was sweaty and hot, and sticky between your legs.

He let go of your leg, ordering you to press it to your chest, as his hand traveled downwards to brush his fingers over your throbbing clit.

“Joel,” you mewled. He pulled a symphony of whimpers and moans from you with every thrust.

“This pussy’s so fuckin’ tight– shit,” he panted in your ear, “You’re so good for me baby, takin’ that cock so well.”

His fingers pressed down on your clit, drawing tight circles, pushing you towards the edge of bliss. You squirmed against him, hips meeting his with every thrust as you start to chase your fast approaching orgasm.

“Need you to come for me, sweetheart– squeeze that cock like a good girl.”

“Joel,” you cried and let go. Your walls fluttered around his cock as you came, back arching off his chest, as your body squirmed and shook in his arms. Breathy gasps and pathetic whimpers left your lips as he kept up his unrelenting pace, fucking you through it, and prolonging your high.

You were far away. Blissed and fucked out as you came down from your moment of ecstasy. Behind you Joel’s grunts bordered on desperate, as his thrusts started to become sloppy.

“Shit, sweetheart– m’close, so fuckin’ close.”

“Come for me Joel,” you pleaded.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he pulled out.

His hand was on you in an instance, pushing you to your stomach as he turned you around. He knelt over you, fisting his cock desperately. Turning your head, you pushed off the bed to look over your shoulder where you found his eyes, locking them with his. Joel came with a guttural moan, the muscles in his stomach tightening and loosening as he coated your ass in his cum. It was hot and sticky on your back, feeling it drip slowly down the side of your waist.

“God damn,” he breathed out through a chuckle. His breath was heavy, like he’d just climbed ten stories.

You turned to your side to look up at him properly. He looked beautiful; his hair messy from sleep, broad chest heaving, a content smile pulling at his lips as you gave him a smile.

“Took the words straight out of my mouth.”

i hope you liked this! part two -> here

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #dom!joel miller #the last of us smut #tlou smut #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #inexperienced!reader #70s AU

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verkomy · 28 days

Text

joel and ellie in the tolkien universe

you can get a print here: inprnt!

#joel miller #ellie williams #tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #the hobbit #the hobbit au #the lord of the rings #lotr #tolkien #fanart #my art #verkomy #verkomy 2024 #prints

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harryleatherfit · 10 months

Text

Upper East Side || A.U ||Frankie Morales

Chapter 12: Closing Night

F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Word Count: 5.7K

Warnings: p in v sex (not wrapped up), clit play, cock warming, riding, love with sex, subspace, shower play?

Authors Note: so i’m 🍃🍃🍃, but this chapter was so much fun to write and i love writing for you all, light of my day❤️❤️ tell me what you thought about the chapter! guys i fucking love tumblr and i love you. writing always makes me happy.

Chapter Playlist

No-One in the world- Locust

Doses and Mimosa- Cherub

Cheari- Magdelena Bay

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

The last thing you remember was Frankie putting you in bed, with nothing but a smile and a mindshattering orgasm lingering through your body.

He said I love you.

Warm dim side lights were on when you woke up, laying on top of Frankies chest as he traces shapes on your back, playing with your hair. Nothing but freedom consumed you whole. You looked up to him, a sunken smile filling his entire face.

“How long have you been awake?” You shift, nuzzling into him further.

“10 minutes, you’ve been out for some time, pretty girl.” He rasps, “You were awake when I put you in bed but I couldn’t get any words out of you, I was scared you weren’t okay?”

“I promise you,” You smirk, “I was okay. It was like I was in another world. I can't explain it.” You close your eyes, “ I looked it up the other night because fuck… every time you make me cum I genuinely can’t think for seconds and it said it’s like a ‘subspace’.”

“A sub-wha?”

“Sub-space, it’s like I feel so comfortable with you and taken care of with you, Google says it’s the ultimate goal for a submissive.”

“Hmmm for a submissive, you like that?”

“Well I like it enough to go into a full body shock.” He rumbles under you, his skin against yours was beautiful. The lights reflecting off his glow made you want to fuck him all over again.

You look over at his side clock, 3 am.

“Fuck I need to pee, can’t get a UTI.” You move the blanket off of you, goosebumps rapturing your arms from leaving his warmth.

He quickly jumps from the bed, you had a minor limp. Reminiscing from the feeling of his cock stuffing you full.

He holds you up as you walk to his open bathroom.

“You okay darlin, feelin alright?” He laughs.

“Oh yeah yeah, just hobbling along from being fucked to death, I’m all good. How about you?” You mumble.

“Spent the night with the girl of my dreams, I’m doing pretty fucking fine.”

You shake your head as you pee, he gives you your peace.

“C’mere.” He motions his fingers to you when you finish, “Do you wanna take a shower? I know you don’t have anything here, but if you wanna clean the sex off.” He mutters. “I can give you some clothes until we have to leave again.”

You survey his bathroom, shelves of cologne and body products for men, marbled tile and a really fucking big shower, a shower big enough for 10 people. His bathroom smelled like santorini water, heavenly. But his unique smell controlled your brain, you only wanted to be close to him.

“Shower with me? It’s early and I need to stay awake.” You smirk.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

He fires up the water inside his shower, pulling you in when the water was hot enough, you both stand under the water spout. Slightly moaning as the water soothes out the kinks of your sore muscles.

“What’d you do when I fell asleep, big man?”

He grabs this glass of shampoo, spilling some out and scruffing your head with it.

“I was just laying there, with you in my arms. Thinking about how this will probably be the happiest moment of my life.”

Everything shifted, demeanor, his body language, he was being so gentle.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a while baby but the first time we met was actually back at UNCSA, you probably don’t remember but-”

You grab his hands, trying to rack through your brain on when you could’ve seen him last you but you draw at a blank.

“What?When?”

“Ah it was back when we were coming to like “scout” you to accept you in the program, we saw the closing night of Cabaret and we went to your spring recital and I just knew.”

“You were there? Frankie, why didn’t you tell me?”

You interrupt, holding his face, scanning his beauty. His nose, his facial hair, his deep set eyes, his hair. You loved everything about him. His body. He was made to love, his whole life he was made to experience a love so life altering.

You yourself have never felt a love this consuming, was it love? Or was it lust?

Whatever it was, you knew you could never experience it with another human again. You didn’t feel like a girl with Frankie, you felt alive. You felt looked after, and cared. Nothing else mattered when you were with him.

You kiss him harder than you thought an asteroid could hit the earth, a simulation scrolling through your head.

This love crushing your bones couldn’t take the intimacy curating between you both, “Why didn't you tell me you goose?” You almost cry, brushing through his hair with your fingers, “I could’ve known you earlier, we couldn’ve-”

“I don’t know, I mean I’m your teacher and then all the Macbeth stuff and it was just so much, I didn’t want to scare you off and I didn’t know how to act around you, and now things are just different.” Yes they are Frankie, they always will be, “I just wanted to welcome you here but fucking immediatly I couldn’t hold back.” He stands against his shower wall.

“But babygirl, “He grabs your attention, “Your Sally performance, your passion in Maybe This Time, darlin you're pizazz on that stage, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Old man, looking at me in lingerie,” You purr, “Is that why you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me?”

“No, not because of that.” He pulls you closer, “Because you’re confident on stage, the audience can feel your passion and I didn’t see you on the stage, I only saw Sally. You're such a good actress baby and you don’t even know it.”

You simper, that’s all you ever wanted, “I’m glad you can see that.”

“Well, you’ll see it after this weekend I promise, people are raving about you gorgeous. After those interviews you’ll see.

He washes your body, running soap on your heated skin. He smudges over your nipples, wincing at his touch. He dropped lower, rubbing his hand all over your body, soothing the redness of your ass.

You moan, never forgetting his soft sensual touch on your body.

Most of the days you try to work hard, you try to

give acting your all. The amount of empathy that runs through your body, the amount of crying and thinking you’ve had to do. Countless nights of annotating, listening to Broadway music, seeing off Broadway shows at DPAC, water pouring.

“Thank you Frankie.” You fiddle with his hair, you never felt more comfortable with your body in front of another guy, “I try to think those things, but I appreciate it you know, I try to be what people want me to be.” You grimace at the thought of having to do another show tonight, on the day you just want to stay in with Frankie and never leave.

“I know it’s hard dollface, but I want you to know, you probably don’t remember but I went up to you after the show and you hugged me, and I knew that minute. I just knew deep down I would find you again.” He washes his hair, “ I introduced myself as someone else because we couldn’t say we were from New York but you didn't even know me and you still talked to me, you still gave me your time and I could see how tired you are. But that’s how special you are, that’s why everyone loves you, that’s what you do to me-”

You shut him up before the words can be said, you relax under the water together pushing your body against his, “You’re fucking with my heart, no matter what Frankie, baby I will always find you. This was meant to happen, and everythings been so perfect, I haven’t felt this,” You rub your heart, “In a long time. And that's because of you. I have the power to go up on that stage because of you. You were my lucky charm on the closing night of Cabaret and I didn’t know it then, but here it is now.”

He hedonically sits on the seat in his shower, sitting you on his leg. The water was pouring the other direction and he meticulously kissed down your back.

You shudder when he would lift up, to place his lips back down again. He was making love to your body, he was being gentle and calculated.

Your souls were attaching themselves together and you don’t think you could ever let go.

“Last night was perfect, everything we did, everything you did made me believe in God.”

“Trust me I saw God last night mi amor, my perfect Goddess.” He nips at your shoulders and ears, “So strong, so soft, golden.”

As you press into his stomach you really feel him, fuck.

“Shit, you didn’t come.” You squeak. You could feel a rock against your back, reacting to your body so easily.

“It’s okay, I didn’t need to. All I needed was to make you feel good.” He shivers, “And if we went any longer… I would’ve came inside-”

“I can go on birth control you know, get an IUD, drink turmeric water, something. Bless we live in the state of New York.”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with honey.”

“It's 3am, we’ve got some hours to kill.” You grin.

The burnt fire in your stomach ruptures again, and this time you’re in control.

“What do you want from me right now Mr. Morales?” You shimmy your ass against the base of his cock, his length nooking into your inner thigh, “C’mon playboy, I want more, more for tonight. I can take it.”

He groans, you push him against the shower wall, you look down and see precum leaking out of him like a college boy. You fish around to fit his cock inside your entrance, exasperated from the feeling of him stretching you wide. You hear him whimper slightly in your ear, the warmth of the steam filing your lungs.

The unsaid craft of love mixing with you guys fucking each other made you want more for the world. If you could feel this for the rest of your life, if you could make all 8 billion people on earth understand how this love was the realist thing you have felt, humane but not blind. You needed more of him.

You knew he needed him to cum, he needed to chase his release.

His hands reached for your hips, the water easing the action of you bouncing on his cock. He couldn’t contain his guttural sounds. You couldn’t handle his cock slipping in and out of your pussy, it felt too good. The way he curved inside you to kiss your spongey spot made you twitch.

“I ain’t gonna last darlin, m’sorry.” The slapping of your skin overpowers the air, the motion in your body to think.

“Come inside, I want it Frankie. Fill me up, fill my fucking pussy up.” You groan, “I’m just a fucking hole for you, fuckin cum hole for your dick.”

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna baby, don’t stop- don’t fucking stop.”

At the last minute, you reach down to touch his balls, to give him one last kick before he untangles inside you, you want him to see the stars.

He gasps, and his body spasms, he falls back and you go with him. He unloads into you, never feeling warmer in your life. You shimmy your hips with his dick still inside you, he heaves as his cum kisses your cervix.

You feel him slipping out of you, you can see the water washing it away, but he felt so good inside you.

“Jesus baby, so fucking tight you have me cumming light a god damn teenager.” He amused.

You slank against him, breathing for your life. He kisses your ear, pulling your hair from your face, clasping your lips together. His hands were holding your boobs, roaming your torso. He stays inside you and he goes soft.

“I could feel you swelling inside me, I could feel the second you popped, it was like your orgasm interconnected with me. Fucking made for eachother.” You whisper.

He gains back strength enough to move, he grabs the cord of the showerhead, dropping it to his hand.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ve never done this?” He questions.

“Do what with a shower head?”

“You’ll see.” He purrs, kissing your neck.

He turns the head of the shower spout to the smallest, but most powerful setting, and he immediately points it at your clit.

“FUCK,” You jerk, “My fucking- god Frankie- it’s so powerful- fuck. I can’t-”

“You think I’m gonna cum and you’re not pretty girl?” He intertwined his legs around you, pinning you to his body. The sensation on your clit made your cunt walls jolt, that affected his dick to harden again inside.

He started to push into you, clamping around him too fast, your orgasm was coming quick and there was nothing to do to stop it.

“Cmon dirty girl, I know it feels so good. I know you’re leakin and it ain’t just water. I need you to cum on my cock again, I know you can do it.” He brings the spout closer to your pussy, a centimeter from your pulsating nub. He fucks his spent cum back into you.

He moves his hips faster than a sonic boom, disrupting the symbiotic relationship you had seconds ago and you feel like you’re about to explode, incomprehensible how the pressure on your clit with his heavy dick inside you is about to make you fall off the face of the earth.

“Ahh- ngh- Frankie- I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-” You scream.

He interlocks on you harder, keeping you in place and with his free hand he holds your stomach down. Locking you down. He growls in your ear, fucking you in place. You can’t do anything put let your pussy take it and unleash your voice.

“I can feel the outline of my cock in you, so deep in your stomach, see that?”

You dangle your head, seeing a bulge past your mound inside you, his cock owning you. And not a second later his pumps slow subconsciously and he sets down the shower head. You can feel him spurt into you again. Longing out both of your orgasms.

“Fuck Frankie, fuck I can feel it, I can feel both of us.” You mumble, kissing him, salivating for his mouth. The water was facing the other way of the shower, so you watch both of your liquids mix to the shower floor.

You’re so full of his cum, you can’t even panic, you would have if it was anyone else, but Frankie’s cum was a gift made from the universe. All you wanted was more. Figuring out how to prevent anything from biologically happening inside your body was another day's problem.

“Gotta clean you off baby, can’t have me leakin out of you all day.” He shifts, scrambling to get the shower head off the floor, changing the setting so it wouldn’t attack you again.

“No I could be, but I don’t think it would be too sanitary for my costume.”

“Fuckin nasty girl.” He beams, he rubs the inside of your thigh, not daring to get closer to your entrance, cleaning you out and using the heat to uncrease any knots in your body.

You still couldn’t believe it all this time, he saw you first. He saw you as Sally, he saw you in one of the worst stages of your life, and he still saw you for who you were. Deep down, you knew there was never going to be anyone like him again for the rest of your life.

“I think it was the universe makin us together Frankie.” You mumble in a sex haze.

Cherish him now, before anything threatening happens.

He turns off the shower, slipping out to grab towels for you both. He spikes through his hair, lifting his towel. You eye him up and down, your lower half not able to handle seeing him like this. You’ve had the best orgasms of your life in the past 6 hours and you're still wet for more?

“Don’t worry baby, we’ll have time for more tonight.” He smirks. You go to lay in his bed, grabbing the closest shirt of his you see.

“Actually remember that afterparty for the show? I was gonna go to that, see if you wanted to go?” He joins you in bed.

“I wouldn’t mind going, I think all my guys were gonna go to that but…” He lingers his fingers around your boobs, “We couldn’t really be near each other or touch each other.”

“But that would be fun, edge each other all night, just to be back in bed, fucking each other like crazy. Isn’t that right Francisco?” You hum, running your fingers on his belly.

He huffs, your fingers searching dangerous territory.

“You don’t know what you’re fucking starting.” He tuts.

“Of course I do.”

You lay with him longer, watching the time pass. He scrolls through his TV, he still has cable. You go in and out of sleep, watching the sun rise through his balcony.

You saunter downstairs to get your bag eventually, grabbing your bag to clean yourself for the day. Thank the fucking lord you packed like a hound for show days. Lotion, 2 days of clothes, toothbrush, deodorant, hair oil, perfume.

He watches you slip into his bathroom, winking at him as you close the door.

20 minutes to go fucking delusional. You check your phone.

New Message:

11:34 Laylah: May have accidentally gone to Bryce’s place

11:40 Laylah: OOOOOHHH SHIT YOU”RE GETTING DICKED DOWN TELL

6:55 Laylah: Just woke up, let me know if you’re alive

Jesus christ, what a story to tell.

You: I’m alive and breathing

7:38 Laylah: WHATTTT HAPPENED

You: Well we did things, and more things. And then the universe collapsed.

7:40 Laylah: OH FUCK ME TOO. Talk when we get to the theater?

You: Oh hell fucking yeah.

As you put your phone down, Frankie knocks on the door, he comes in, “Hey before we go to the theater, lets stop at a bodega. Get some coffee and stock up on some pills?”

Pills?

Oh fuck.

“Shit, I completely forgot,” You giggle, “That sounds perfect.”

He picks you up and twirls you in the air, “Be ready in 30, pretty girl.”

------

Before you left, he gave you a tour of his house in the daylight, took you in the backyard, showed you his garage with 2 other cars. His whole upstairs. His house was beyond elegant, something you’d only see in movies and this was all for him. You feel his personality in every room, you could see his life in everything he has. He had lives before you, but who were you before him?

Instead of taking his million dollar car, he took his low audi. Not as recognizable but still him.

He went to the nearest corner store, leaving you in the car, giving you his hoodie. Whatever was to happen between you two, you could live your life like this until you die.

“Ok 2 coffees with stevia and oatmilk, and a shitload of Plan-B!” He cheers. He came back with a bag full of Plan-B. “What?”

You shake your head, jesus christ. Your uterus couldn’t take him.

He pulls around back behind the theater discreetly, dropping you off so no one would see you walking in together. He kissed you goodbye, tonight's the last show.

Before you realize it, Laylah is booming at your hair, perfecting your makeup for your cast interview with The New Yorker. When you saw each other you both squealed but were surrounded by other makeup interns. The long awaited conversation would be saved for a private session.

At 2:30, Ms. Roylance pulled the cast into a room with a line of interviewers from The New Yorker. She had already pre-prepped you all with answers, figuring this would probably be the longest part of the day. Frankie, both of Mr.Millers, Mr. Garcia, Ms. Cheot, Mr Davis, and Ms. Roylance sat in the back of the room observing how you all would respond.

The interview was being filmed, so you sat up straight and answered when you were talked to. The questions were more directly to Mattias, you didn’t mind. All you had to do was look at Frankie and look pretty. You weren’t sure how stuff like this would ever work out, you knew some interviewers could have their sleeves so tight that they could ask any asshole questions.

So finally to both our leads, how did you balance school work and working on a college Macbeth production for Broadway?

“You go first.” Mattias directs you.

“Well, I just had recently moved to this school and as a senior my classes are industry classes. So as long as I show up, give 100%, and learn my lines on the side. Work my job, get 7 hours of sleep, wake up and run. Try to subside that this is a Broadway production and you’re balanced.” You grin.

“For me, I do my classes, shots of vodka every Friday, and learn my lines. Not as well as this one.” Mattias giggles.

Mattias definitely made you feel more comfortable in this interview, he tried to give more questions to you, but you didn’t take it personally.

You wanted this interview to end nonetheless, smiling at empty jokes- you really didn’t think your first interview would go like this.

After an hour and a half, you and Mattias had to be prepped to go into another room for Vogue. The other actors were being touched up by Laylah. Ms. Roylance said this would be more intimate, prepare your answers to be more emotional and if you don’t want to answer you laugh it off.

5 o’clock sharp and just one reporter walks in greeting all the directors and sitting down in front of you and Mattias.

“Hi! My names Jules and I’ll be interviewing you guys today.¨ She shakes your hands, smiling and jaunty within her step, ¨Umm I just want to start off, if you don’t want to answer anything that I ask, give me a thumbs down and we can just pass it. No harm, no foul.” She smiles.

You’re not being recorded, but audiotaped. You liked this better, you could slouch in your seat and not check every 5 minutes if your hair looked correct. You all had afternoon coffee on your side, and Frankie was in the room, you were safe.

I wanted to start off first, how do you both relate to your characters?

¨I feel like Macbeth is a warrior hero, he is just trying to make everyone happy. He’s jumpy but wants to make his wife happy. He aspires to be king and I feel like my entire life I’ve been trying to gain control of my own life and I feel like that’s what Macbeth is trying to do in his story.” He sips his coffee.

“I feel like Lady Macbeth has been strong her entire life, she would do anything to make her husband happy, and I mean in the end she takes her own life because of the things she has done so personally I relate to her because my whole life I do things for people and sometimes I may go against myself to make someone else happy and then I feel dead inside. I feel this stomach churning sickness that I will never get to go back to my regular person.

Wow, your responses. I feel grateful to be here with you both and your responses are so heartfelt already. Where do you both see life after college?

“Honestly I thought I wanted to go to Law school after this, but possibly some more auditions for Broadway. I did apply to get into the graduate program at Julliard so I am looking forward to that this year. Possibly get an internship somewhere.” Mattias responds.

You haven’t this far about what you’d do after college, your number one fear of having to move back with your mom or go homeless.

“Honestly after this year? I mean I have a service job uh… audition for some TV roles. I’m not sure, I love reading scripts and annotating them. Just working in the industry, I love acting so whatever comes my way I’ll take it.”

Do you plan on staying here? Since you moved from North Carolina?

“Yeah I do.” You look at Frankie across the room- he’s essentially a reason why you would stay in this city. “North Carolina was never home, so I feel like if I go back, there would be no place for me to go home to.”

That’s funny, I’m from there so I understand what you mean, it’s pretty boring.

You laugh with Jules, empathy being an understood language.

What are your prize possessions?

“Can she finish the rest of the interview, I’m sorry I’ve talked all day and she has better responses than me. And pedialyte!” Mattias pokes you.

“Ok, my most prized possession is my copy of A Little Life by Hanya Yanigihara. I think that is the best book I have ever read, now I’m not saying go read it because there's so much trauma and it’s extremely sad, but it’s truly one of the most captivating and well written books I’ve read in my lifetime. I’ve annotated it to the brim and it’s worth everything to me.”

I’ve read it! After I finished I was sobbing like a baby, and I had to go to Lispenard street and just sit there in silence, it took months for me to not think about Jude!

“Trust me, me too, that book will go to the grave with me.” You wink. “I’ll have to go visit Lispenard street sometime soon!”

Ms. Roylance gives the que that it’s time to wrap up, show would be starting in 2 hours and you had to do senior greenroom.

Okay, my last question for the night, what are your thoughts on the industry, Hollywood, Broadway, all of it?

You couldn’t obviously say how you really felt, but you could weave around it.

“Hmm that's a big question,” You nod your head, “I don’t think it’s a cruel industry, I mean it can be, don't get me wrong. But when I was younger I was drawn to a place of freedom of expression, I was drawn to a place that would allow me to feel without any punishment. I wasn’t allowed to feel anything when I was younger. I felt silenced my whole childhood, and this world pushes me. I’m motivated to act.”

You simmer for a second, “But the kicker is, the space that makes me feel safe, has 180’d sometimes into the box that makes me feel like a child again. It’s trying to find that fine line between expressing yourself or getting nowhere. I want my work to make people feel, I want them to notice how I felt when I was younger. I’m healing, I feel like anyone who acts is still healing, no matter what it can be. It’s like this box that you wanted to get around going into the industry puts you in it again, because no matter how raw you get, how you assume a character in front of that camera or audience, you will still be judged by how you move.” You take a breath.

“I don’t know, humanity will always be humanity, um I feel like being a true actor in this industry will eventually let me feel free so I’m lucky in a sense. I’m an emotional person so I’m excited to see where my life takes me. I think regardless of what your life is like, the artist and creative soul will always find a way to create. The world will find a way to bring resistance, but it’s what your mindset is like that will eventually push through and prove other people wrong. Because the industry won’t be pretty to your unapologetic self. It’s all the human experience.

Jules pauses the recording on her phone, “Who are you and where have you been?” She beams. She starts clapping her hands, everyone in the tiny room abruptly applauding for you. You shy away, looking at Frankie through your hair and Mattias shakes your shoulders.

You didn’t mean for this to happen, but this is how you really felt about the industry.

“Tucked away in North Carolina for 22 years. Before then? Maybe a cat walking the cornfields in Kansas.” You giggle.

“It was the utmost pleasure to meet you all today, break a leg with your last show.” Jules gathers her things and leaves the room, leaving you alone with Mattias and your directors.

They called in the rest of the cast, Frankie went searching around for the rest of the tech crew, preparing for the tradition before the last show.

As everyone entered, you saw Laylah make her way to you, you felt tears beam in your eyes. Never failing to get emotional for anything like this. You hadn’t really let anyone see you cry before, Frankie hasn’t seen you cry yet, except for Laylah.

“So as you all know, this is what we call the Senior greenroom. Where all the graduating seniors this year give advice to anyone under, what they have learned and we know it’s early in the year for some of you but say anything on your mind before the last show.” Ms. Roylance explains.

“Mattias you start.”

You lean against a wall for this, looking at your feet, trying to not to show any emotion. If you gave in you know you’d cry all your makeup off. You listen to Mattias speak about his years here, about the things he would have done differently;y and you watch the tears drip down his face. A few more seniors talk, some you haven’t gotten a chance to really work with, but hopefully in the coming months you will.

The spotlight lands on Laylah, you look up and see the gloss all over their eyes, they walk over and put your hands in theirs.

“Advice I would give to people younger… hmm…” They run their thumb through yours, “When you need help, accept it. Open your heart more and don’t regret it.” They look up to you, “And sometimes your family doesn’t have to be blood. I have spent years trying to make up for past time in my life but the people that I know have made lifelong friendships will always be there for me.” They pause, “This space already has given me the opportunity to only be myself and create art, that's all I ask for. And you have made my girl, my best friend, the happiest person on earth.” They finish.

They finish and they hug you, tighter than you could think. You appreciate Laylah more than you could imagine, when you were a little girl you never thought you would be loved by another human being this much, but Laylah proved you wrong. They taught you your self-worth, they taught you how to function in society. You couldn’t explain your level of friendship, it just was.

They let go, after tears slip down your face, you clear your eyes and prepare what you are gonna say. Only a couple months ago were you two introducing ourselves to a crowd of people and here you are.

“Where do I even begin?” You blow the snot in your nose. “Honestly when I came here I was scared, but I didn’t let myself be held back by that underlying fear. And this one right here always pushed me, no matter what.” You squeeze Laylah, “Always trust your teachers, because they know what’s best for you. Always go the extra mile even when you’re not even asked because that will get you much further.” You ponder,

“But this space, the performing arts has always let me feel. I have always been myself and I have always expressed my emotions in a beautiful way in the performing arts and I would never take it back for a second.” You choke on your words, “I feel so lucky to get to be here in the city, and I am so happy to have worked with a group like this that has accepted me and made me feel safe fuck.” You giggle, covering your mouth for cursing, it lightens the room, “But all I’ll say is let the world consume, fill your life with passion and projects, care about things, be a nerd, be a baseline for someone, be love and safety.”

By the time the whole room is in tears and you start hugging, hugging because the sadness for the purity of everyone's happiness is a raw human emotion.

Ms. Roylance is clearing her eyes, and you can see Frankie rubbing circles in his heart, signing to you.

“I wanted to say how I am so lucky to have worked with some of the best I’ve seen in years, and I will get to say we made history with our Broadway shows, and the talent that I have gotten to teach and direct has shocked me. Go make me proud out there! Places in 10! Everyone break a leg!” Ms Roylance calls out.

The crew scurries to get to the booth and you go behind the stage watching the chaos unravel itself.

You hear a door open and a tug at your shoulder, you immediately knew it was Frankie. You were panicked but the confirmation of it being Frankie made you feel instant relief.

“What are you doing Mr. Morales? Are we here for old times sake?” You grin.

“I mean I wish, but I want this to be our ritual before you perform. Just us together, somewhere hopefully alone.” And he hugs you, tightly.

Instantly you feel a world of emotions collapsing on you, almost the joy you felt as a kid during christmas. Magic.

“Your heart, pretty girl, so so beautiful.” He rubs your temples, “You’ve got a way with words, my perfect star.” You kiss him, feeling the world crash in, “Now give them all that you got.”

———

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capypub · 11 months

Text

Without Warning - Mafia!Joel Miller Scene 2

AU Mafia!Joel Miller x Original Female Character

Rating: T (language, sexual themes, mentions of drugs)

Minors DNI. 18+ content!

Scene 1 Scene 3

Summary: Joel returns to the Tipsy Bison with his mind on one thing only after doing business near the border. Even though he feels out of practice, he somehow manages to get the girl, until she finds the literal gun in his pants.

A week goes by, Indi works another three nights without seeing him again. She thinks about that night more than she’d like to admit. After the initial shock had worn off, she realized how incredibly hot it was for this silver fox to come out of nowhere and stand up for her. Yes, he was a little intense for someone simply bumping into her, but something about those dark eyes and broad shoulders had her pulse fluttering and thighs clenching.

It was a slower night, and she had just closed out her last tab. It wasn’t even nine yet and the place was looking dead. She leaned on the bar at the service well, helping Jared cut limes.

“Like is it me? Am I the problem? Is there something on my face that says I like being played by idiots with nice butts?” Jared ranted, slicing a lime in half with much more force than needed.

“Of course not,” Indi said with a small smile, always there for her friend’s dating rants.

“Like I swear, Michael, the last guy I was talking to,” he went on, rolling his eyes and sticking his tongue out in disgust, “I swear, his entire goal in life is to be as petty as the Greek gods, this man could not just let things go,” he huffed.

“Michael was the one with the nose ring, right?” she clarified.

“Yeah, hot piercings, huge dick, no communication skills whatsoever,” he grumbled.

“I think your energy just attracts people wanting to steal it,” she said thoughtfully, “plus you have a nice butt, so that doesn’t help,” she adds, leading both to laugh for a moment.

“Hey Jared, it’s dead tonight, I’ll keep an eye on the bar, why don’t you head out early?” Tommy offered, coming up to them from the other end.

“Oh hell yeah, you don’t need to tell me twice,” Jared said, immediately perking up, “Is it cool if I hang out here for a bit though? I have food on the way,” he admitted.

“Sure kid, I’ll even pour you a drink while you wait,” Tommy shrugged with that easygoing smile Indi had grown to enjoy.

He wasn’t here every night, but tried to show up for a bit as often as possible. She’d learned that this is more of a side business for him, his real work being with Joel doing construction or contracting or something.

“Want a shot, Indi?” Tommy asked, breaking her from her thoughts.

“I’m on the clock though?” she pointed out softly, obviously confused by his offer.

Both Tommy and Jared let out a short laugh, Jared coming around the bar to sling his arm around her and playfully pinch her cheek. She retaliated by elbowing him in the ribs with a small pout.

“Don’t worry, darlin’, a shot or two never hurt no one, plus it’s not like we’re doing much tonight anyways,” Tommy said, smoothly pouring two shots of whiskey and a shot of vodka at Indi’s request, sliding a glass to the two on the other side of the bar.

They tapped their glasses together, each one throwing the shot back with practiced ease. Tommy didn’t miss the slight grimace on her face though after she had swallowed and shook her head.

The trio looked up simultaneously when they heard someone enter. Indi could feel Jared tense up beside her, his arm still around her as they watched Joel walk over to the same corner table as before, sitting with his back to the wall, eyes on his phone as he sent a text. God, he was gorgeous, ruffled hair, heavy boots, and a light coating of dust on his pants.

“Ah shit, here comes trouble,” Tommy said, grabbing a glass from the drying rack and pouring a double shot of bourbon, “here Indi, take this over to ‘m, I already know he’ll start his bullshit if I go over there,” he explained, sliding the rocks glass towards her.

“What do you mean?” she asked as she accepted the glass, wrapping a napkin around the bottom.

“He won’t talk shop if he’s got a pretty face distractin’ ‘im,” Tommy explained with a sly wink, turning around before she could argue to check on the few barflies that still remained.

“Good luck, dude,” Jared said with a scoff, removing his arm with a knowing smirk, having heard about Joel’s previous antics from the other waitresses.

She took a deep breath, suddenly nervous to do the one thing she’d been hired to do - bring a drink to someone. Moving slowly across the concrete floor, she approached Joel’s table, setting the glass down between them. He looked up from his phone momentarily, his eyes widening briefly as he realized it was her.

“Hey sugar,” he greeted her coolly, tucking his phone into his pocket, not even bothering to finish the message he was typing, “Appreciate it,” he said, nodding to the drink, but not touching it.

“Do…you want something else?” she asked cautiously, unsure of whether he usually ordered something different.

Joel’s gaze drifted slowly from the top of her head to her feet. She sported some black thigh high socks with little ribbons just above her knees this time. Paired with the usual black top and pleated black skirt, Joel felt his cock twitch at the sight of her. Absolutely fucking gorgeous. He was glad that the Bison was basically empty, besides the same few old fucks who practically lived in those bartstools near the TVs.

“Why don’t you keep me company for a bit? I’m sure Tommy won’t mind. ‘s not like you're busy, right?” he suggested, sitting a little straighter as she blinked at him with those gorgeous wide eyes.

“I, um…o-okay,” she agreed before her nerves could talk herself out of it.

That deep voice seasoned with his southern drawl and those mesmerizing dark eyes had her terrified and excited at the same time. Something about the older man looking at her like a hungry predator, a tall, dark-haired, gorgeous predator who she would happily lay herself out for if he wanted to feast on her dripping wet-.

“Darlin? You okay?” he asked, breaking her concentration.

She realized she had just been standing and staring at him for longer than what was probably necessary. With a short nod and timid smile, she reached for the chair directly across from him. The slight jump of surprise when she was met with resistance had her looking down at the chair, noticing his boot hooked on one of the legs, keeping it in place.

“Why so far away, sweetheart? Gonna have to sit a lil’ closer, got bad hearing in one ear,” he explained easily, stretching his arm to pull out the chair directly to his left.

“O-okay,” she agreed, moving quickly to take a seat, feeling awkward and exposed under his heated stare.

Once seated, Joel brought his arm around the back of her chair. She sat straight up, not even touching the backrest, but she could still feel the heat from him radiating against her bare arms.

“How’s your first week been? Anyone givin’ you any trouble?” he asked, spreading his legs a little wider, leaning back comfortably in his chair, his fingers silently tapping against his still-full glass.

“It’s good, no trouble at all, actually. I’m liking it here a lot,” she said, turning to check the bar only to find Tommy and Jared watching them, whispering to each other conspiratorially.

“Don’t mind them,” Joel spoke softly, drawing her attention back to him, “I’m glad they haven’t scared you off yet, would hate to lose a pretty thing like you,” he continued, finally lifting the drink to his lips, speaking the last part around the rim before finishing the content in one swift movement.

“R-really?” she asked softly, her cheeks feeling warm from his words, her body buzzing eagerly as she smiled bashfully.

“Really, really,” he agreed coolly, “Got the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen, darlin’,” he added, bringing his hand up to rub the pad of his thumb against her cheek, barely touching her, his eyes focussed on where their skin connected, reveling in the electric vibrations he felt with each graze of her skin.

“You tell that to all your waitresses?” she questioned with a teasing little smirk.

Joel chuckled, closing his eyes with a light shake of his head. His little kitten had some fire in her, a spark of sass barely peeking above the surface just then. It made him want to know more, to see every color of her. Dropping his hand, he brought his arm around the back of her chair again, gripping the side and suddenly pulling her closer to him. The scrape of the wood on the cement floors had the handful of occupants looking their way. He noticed her slight jump afterwards.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart,” he said with another low chuckle, leaning closer to her, “This okay?”

“Y-yeah…this is okay,” she agreed, sounding breathless as his scent invaded her senses.

He couldn’t help himself. Now that she was so close and he could smell her perfume mixed with her natural scent, see the goosebumps along her arm, and heard the little uptake in her breath when he leaned closer. The details were heightened even more than that first night and Joel just couldn’t get enough.

“And to answer your question, you’re the only waitress I’m tellin’ this to,” he said, admiring the growing tint of pink on her cheeks.

Everything in his body was screaming at him to kiss her, to take her home and ravish her. He wanted to hear every little noise she could make for him, feel the goosebumps on her skin, mark her as his own. His cock was aching in his pants as she batted her lashes, looking up at him so innocently, those pouty lips begging to be kissed raw.

Joel made the mistake of looking over her shoulder, finding Tommy staring at them. When the brothers' eyes met, Tommy arched his brow in question. Joel had never made a move on any of the waitresses before. Hell, Joel hadn’t made a move in so long, Tommy had just assumed he’d given up on things like that. Jared was also watching closely, holding a to-go box close to his chest, stuffing his face with Thai food as he watched his friend get hit on by the biggest, most dangerous crime lord this side of the Mississippi.

The lack of privacy made Joel suddenly uncomfortable. His mind and body were too aware of their surroundings when less than thirty seconds ago, he was ready to pull Indi against him and kiss her innocence away. He chooses to lean back in his seat instead, his arm still around the back of her chair but still not touching.

“Tommy said you go to UT, must mean you’re pretty and smart,” he commented.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she scoffed, her blush only growing as she fidgeted in her seat, looking down at her hands.

Joel followed her gaze, his attention drawn to her tattoo. He could now see all the finer details. It was an intricate piece of crescent moons, line art and stars. Wanting to get her to relax a little, he asked her about it. She told him a little about the design itself and why she got it. He then asked about the one on her shoulder. She turned in her seat, bringing her hair to one side as she showed him the ink on her shoulder blade.

He could tell she wasn’t the biggest fan of talking about herself by the limited details and questions directing the focus back to him that seemed to follow her answers.

“Want something to drink? On me of course,” he offered after a lull in the conversation, finding any excuse to keep her beside him.

“I’m technically still working,” she said, that gorgeous smile making it hard for Joel to focus on her words.

“Well let’s change that, huh?” he suggested with a smirk, getting up from the table, heading right towards Tommy who was restocking the bar, Jared nowhere in sight.

“Can I have my employee back, now that you’ve got her all flustered and shit?” his brother teased.

“Actually, I was gonna suggest you send ‘er home for the night,” Joel said, glancing over his shoulder to find Indi making her way over to them.

“Who’s going to close if I send ‘er home?” Tommy questioned with a scowl, but Joel could see the amusement in his eyes.

“Your bar, you close,” Joel shrugged, “Let her take the night, Tommy, come on,” he insisted with a scowl of his own.

“Who’s getting sent home?” Indi asked, coming to stand beside Joel, looking so small next to his larger form.

“Apparently you,” Tommy said with a snicker.

“Joel,” she said, looking up at him with a mixture of shock and exasperation, “you can’t just do that…”

It was the first time she had actually said his name to him. The syllables on her lips were world-shattering for him, his name never sounding so sweet until she uttered it. He wanted to hear her say his name over and over again. He briefly wondered what she would sound like wrapped in his arms, head thrown back in pleasure…

“Joel…Joel!” Tommy snapped, snapping his fingers in front of his brother’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Joel huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Up to you, darlin’, if you want to stay, I’m closin’ up in the next couple hours anyways, wasting money keeping an empty bar open,” Tommy said to her.

Joel looked down at her, watching her expression as she contemplated the offer. The way she bit her lower lip as she considered her options had him wanting to bite her lip with his own teeth, among other places.

“I guess I could use a night off,” she said slowly after the long silence.

Without realizing it, Joel felt his shoulders relax just a touch. She looked between the two men, like she wanted to say something else. Joel resisted the urge to reach out and touch her, pull her close, feel her body against his own, offer some sort of comfort. Tommy set two shot glasses down, pouring something clear in one before sliding it over to Indi. He opted for well whiskey in the other, taking it for himself. Joel raised his brow questioningly at his brother.

“Oh I’m sorry, you want me to pour your drink too, princess?” Tommy asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes with a grin as he set another glass in front of Joel along with his preferred bourbon.

“You’re cut off, asshole,” Joel huffed, easily pouring a shot for himself, feeling Indi watching their interaction with a little grin.

“Can’t cut off the boss,” Tommy fired back, raising his glass to the two of them before downing it.

Indi followed suit, taking her shot like a champ with minimal cringing. Joel couldn’t help but notice how cute her little scrunched up expression was as she swallowed her shot. He tipped back the contents of his own glass with ease, downing it like water, exhaling slowly through his nose as he set his glass down.

“Last I checked, I’m the boss,” he reminded his brother, “Get your stuff, darlin’, I’ll drive you home,” he added to Indi before he could consider how that might come off to her.

She giggled, seeming less affected by his gruff directness. “Yes, sir,” she said with a playful smile, walking towards the back room to collect her things, her response stoking that fire she’d started in him when he first saw her.

Once she was out of hearing range, Tommy couldn’t contain his laughter. He continued to snicker even as Joel glared at him.

“Since when do you drive anyone home besides yourself?” Tommy asked.

“Watch your mouth, baby brother, I’m not in the mood to deal with you tonight,” Joel grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“What are you even doin’ here, man? I thought you’d head straight home after gettin’ back from the border.”

“Wanted to stop by for a drink,” Joel muttered, looking down at the wooden bartop.

“I know your liquor cabinet is stocked way better than what we got here, so cut the crap, Joel, just say you wanted t’ see ‘er,” Tommy responded, collecting the glasses and tossing them in the sink.

“What’s it matter to you?” Joel questioned, feeling his defenses start to rise.

“She’s a good worker, wouldn’t want to lose her because you don’t know how to ask a girl out,” he shrugged with a chortle.

“Fuck off,” Joel fired back, ready to say more, but spotted Indi coming towards them with a bag on her shoulder.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, noticing Tommy’s trembling shoulders as he tried to contain his snickering.

“Nothin’, let’s go,” Joel said before his brother could open his mouth, bringing an arm around but still not touching her as he guided her towards the front door.

“Y’all kids be safe now, y’ hear!” Tommy called after them, the echoes of his laughter following them out the door.

Once they were outside, Joel noticed the only other car in the lot besides his truck was Tommy’s truck. Indi kept close to him as they walked towards his vehicle.

“You walk to work?” Joel asked, unlocking the truck and opening the passenger door for her.

“Jared gave me a ride, my car’s in the shop right now,” she explained, climbing up into the seat.

Once they were both buckled in, the truck started with a low rumble, the interior shaking momentarily from the force of the startup. She looked over at him with those eyes, that alluring gaze that suggested more than her innocent demeanor would leave others to believe. He swallowed the dryness in his throat, realizing they’re now completely alone, the dimly lit parking lot casting shadows across them as he looked her over.

He shifted his body towards, one hand on the steering wheel, his other arm resting on the edge of the center console. In the enclosed space, her scent invaded all his senses, overwhelming his mind.

“You know, I could hear Tommy from the break room,” she said quietly, looking down at her hands in her lap, an coy grin on her face.

“Oh yeah?” he replied stiffly, feeling his stomach drop at her revelation, fearing Tommy’s big mouth had somehow fucked up any chance he had with getting close to her.

“Is it true?” she asked, glancing nervously up at him.

“Is what true, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his eyes drawn to her lips as she turned her body towards him, unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning slightly on the center console towards him.

“That you came here because…you wanted to, um, see…me?” she asked hesitantly.

He bit his lip, his eyes drifting down to her own lips, so close and so inviting. Amusement spread across her features as her lips twitched up into a small grin. Joel tried opening his mouth once, twice, three times but nothing came out. He must have looked like a damn fish, completely at a loss of words and floundering painfully.

“If it was true?” he finally choked out, his body thrumming with nerves.

God he felt so pathetic, fucking fifty years old and stumbling over a girl like a damn teenager. She reached across the console to put her hand just above his denim-covered knee, still a bit dusty from having to shoot a guy in the middle of the desert, but she didn’t need to know that.

“I’d be very happy if it was true,” she said softly, squeezing his leg lightly.

He huffed out a breath of relief, a nervous laugh breaking the stillness around them. Looking down at her hand on his leg, brought his own hand, much larger and rougher, over hers. She watched as he brought her hand to his lips, the edge of his mustache tickling her knuckles as he pressed his lips to her fingers. She could feel the slight tremble in his hand as he exhaled slowly.

“Joel?” she asked gently, her eyes focussed on where his lips pressed against her skin.

“Yeah, sugar?” he mumbled against her fingers, eyes closing slowly as he inhaled her scent.

She squeezed his hand, causing him to open his eyes and realize she had inched closer, her face dangerously close to his own, her body now leaning fully over the middle console. He shuddered, feeling his heart start to beat a mile a minute, threatening to burst out of his chest.

“Will you kiss me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she glanced between his eyes and his mouth.

“Anything you want,” he agreed before closing the space between them, both his hands coming up to hold her face.

The kiss started slow and tender. Joel couldn’t help the satisfied groan when he was able to taste her lips, a hint of vodka mixed with her coconut chapstick. She allowed him to guide her, to lead the kiss and set the pace. The more he tasted, the more he wanted, his mouth beginning to move more fervidly, his tongue tracing her lips before sliding along her own.

When his hand moved to hold the nape of her neck, she whimpered softly, her own fingers twisted into the material of his shirt. The little noise was enough to set Joel’s desire ablaze, his other hand sliding down her arm to grip her waist. Surprisingly Joel felt much more in control of himself then he expected he would be. He hadn’t kissed someone like this in so long, but his body seemed to know exactly what to do.

“J-Joel,” she sighed against his mouth, “fuck, Joel,” she moaned, her eyes blissfully shut, head tilted back as his mouth drifted down her jaw to her neck, the scruff of his beard scratching deliciously against her skin.

“Like how you say m’ name, sweetheart,” he muttered into the crook of her neck, biting lightly which earned a higher pitched moan and her fingers moving to tightly grip the hair at the back of his neck.

He brought his mouth back to hers, hungry for more, more of her taste, more of her sounds, just more of her. No amount of drugs could match the high he was feeling as her nails scratched lightly along the back of his neck and her mouth on his. One of her hands drifted down his chest, her palm tracing down side and up his back. Fuck, he never enjoyed someone touching him so much.

Just as he was about to give in and pull her over the console into his seat, she tensed. Pulling back, he realized how heavily they were both breathing, one hand holding her jaw, the other on the curve of her hip, his thumb drawing small circles into the material of her shirt, itching to lift it up enough to feel her skin.

“W-what’s wrong, baby girl?” he asked with half-lidded eyes, feeling how stiff her body suddenly became and how she had let go of his hair.

She was looking at him with wide eyes, almost like she was frozen in place. Joel suddenly realized where her other hand had stopped, at the curve of his lower back, close enough to his belt to graze the 9mm he had forgotten was on him. She leaned away from him, bringing her hands back to herself.

“Joel…is that a gun?”

Scene 3

#joel miller #joel miller au #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joe miller fanfic #mafia joel miller #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal au

139 notes · View notes

papurgaatika · 2 months

Text

Nothing Fucks With My Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader

A/N: This got so out of hand so fast, but it is FINALLY here. This is for all my Joel girlies with crazy daddy issues, I see you and I get you. I really didn’t mean for the first half of this fic to be so angst-filled, but I think the smut is a good trade-off for it in the end. AS ALWAYS humongous shoutout to my beloved beta readers @joelsdagger and @carlynkurin yall kill me with your comments and I love yall so much. And yes the title is a Hozier lyric, I love that guy. Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! Tags: daddy issues, minor misogyny, minor body shaming, angst, Joel wants to beat up reader’s dad, age gap, daddy kink, pillow humping, exhibitionism if you squint, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller’s filthy mouth, breeding kink, cumplay kinda, protective Joel, no outbreak AU, no use of Y/N Word Count: 5.3k

Visiting your parents with Joel for the first time brings up some bad memories. And lets you make a few good ones too.

(aka Joel hates your parents and fucks you in your childhood bedroom)

Your fingers stilled over your phone, minor panic setting into your bones when you got a text from your mother asking you to come over for dinner with her and your father. Now you loved your parents and you think they loved you too, in whatever weird way they showed it, but your relationship with them was never amazing. They were overbearing when you lived with them, always expecting the most of you but never recognizing what you actually did, like you were never going to be enough in their eyes. You were a grown woman, a degree in hand, and jobs lined up, but with rent at an all-time high and entry-level positions barely paying enough, you had sucked it up for as long as you could and continued to live with them. The passive-aggressive remarks about their friends’ kids moving out and about your degree essentially being a waste barely mattered anymore, you kept your head down and didn't engage unless you really had to. Your daydreams of moving out and being independent dwindled a little with every snide comment your father made, but you were living rent-free so you didn't say anything.

But then you met Joel, and Joel couldn’t see a single flaw in you, his perfect angel. You weren’t even planning on dating anyone, especially not someone this much older than you, but there was just something about him that drew you in. You could still remember the day you met him like yesterday. You had been driving home after taking a much-needed weekend to go see one of your friends from college and managed to run over a nail and saw your tire pressure going down. You had pulled over and contemplated calling your father, but the idea of him driving out to lecture you on being a better driver and why he thinks women shouldn't drive just gave you a headache. So, being the self-determined woman you were, you got out of your car, popped on a YouTube video on how to change a tire, and knelt next to your car.

Granted, the video wasn’t helping you out much, and your headache was getting worse under the blistering Austin sun, and you felt the tears start to brim in your eyes as you rested your head against the door of your car. You were seconds away from sucking it up and calling your father when you heard a gentle, “Do you need any help, ma’am?” You’re not one to usually take help from men, especially not random men on the side of the road, but your head was pounding and your eyes were red, and something about his voice just put you at ease. So you sigh and nod, explaining how you really did try to change it, but it just wasn't working and he shoots you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen in your life. “I’ve got it for ya don’t worry, it’s just a tire ‘ain't worth those tears.”

You stand to the side as he kneels down to take a look at the damage before standing back up and grabbing the tools from your trunk. His arms were working on unscrewing the bolts of your (now useless) tire, and you couldn’t help but stare at them. His sleeves were pulled taut over his biceps and beads of sweat were rolling down his tanned skin. You watched as the fabric of his shirt clung to his belly and his gray-streaked hair grew damp from the heat, finding yourself unconsciously biting your lip when your eyes linger on the veins that strained under his arms. He lets out a soft grunt when he gets off the ground and turns to look at you. “I don't think it’ll be safe to drive on your spare sweetheart, let me call you a tow.”

“Oh! No, it’s okay really,” your eyes go wide and your brows furrow as you try to figure out how much it would cost and who you would even call to come pick you up, but he’s already dialing a number into his phone and telling them they owe him a favor before hanging up and giving you another smile. “You really didn’t have to do that-” Your words falter because you realize you don’t know his name.

“Joel. And I couldn't let ya deal with it yourself, my mama raised me better than that.” You blush softly at his words, genuinely grateful to have met him. You let out a breath, your tears having subsided and your heart rate finally calming down before sitting back down on the ground, fully expecting Joel to walk back to his truck and head out, but are instead met with a frown when you look back over at him. “Can't just leave you here like this sweetheart,” he sighs looking down at you, “Let me take ya to the garage at least, just so I know you’re safe.”

Quite honestly, you weren’t used to someone treating you with this much care and attentiveness, you weren’t sure what to do with it. But the worried look in his eyes and the warmth of his voice have you nodding, taking his hand and getting into his truck to go to the garage with him. You sit in surprisingly comfortable silence for the next few minutes until you decide to be bold and ask for his number “Well, just in case my tire pops again” Your words are matched with a small grin playing on your lips, and JoeL, well joel was a goner the moment you had said those words.

You and Joel had moved relatively fast, only being together for about eight months before you were packing your stuff and moving in with him. He had heard all about your parents before then. He saw the tears that fell after a fight with them, heard the words they threw at you while you recounted to him, and he could never imagine treating someone, especially not someone as perfect as you, like that. He could recount how many times you would curl up into him, breathing in his scent to try and calm down while he ran a soothing hand over your back and told you it was going to be okay. So it was no surprise that he had a few choice words when you mentioned that your mother had asked you both to come over. “Dunno how civil I’ll manage to be, sweet girl” he groans into your shoulder, arm draped over your middle as y'all lay in bed. You giggle softly and tilt your head to the side so it’s leaning on top of his slightly.

“Gonna have to be,” you catch his fingers in your own, running circles over the rough skin to soothe yourself. “I haven’t seen them since I moved out... I just want them to be okay with us I guess.” A sigh leaves your lips when you think about how displeased they used to be about anything that you ever did growing up, that displeasure skyrocketing when you started seeing Joel.

You feel him still your fingers, taking your hand and wrapping it with his own, before shifting to look at you fully. “I can’t promise they’ll be okay, sweet girl, but just know I’m in it with you forever okay?” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss to your knuckles and you feel your eyes start to water as you nod. “Now, we don’t need to think ‘bout it for a while, lets get some sleep yeah?” You curl into his side and mumble out a soft okay before letting yourself drift off, feeling the weight of his arm draped around you.

The rest of the week passed with relative ease, you were busy with work and Joel had been doting over you more than usual to keep your mind off of things. Eventually, Friday rolls around and you find yourself in Joel’s truck fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, heart pounding in your chest. You’re staring out the window lost in the endless stream of anxiety that is your brain, until you feel Joel's hand, warm and heavy, running small circles on your knee. You let your hand rest on top of his, basking in the intimacy of it all before he pulls up to your old house. You can feel your breathing start to quicken, chewing on the inside of your lip, before looking over at him. “Wait, baby, can we go back, I can’t do this. I’m not ready,” your words were tumbling over each other, panic clear on your face.

“Hey, hey, look at me angel. It’s gonna be okay. We can do this okay?” His hands are on your cheeks making you look at him, and you subconsciously lean into his touch. “I don’t like them any more than you do, but I’ll try to be on my best behavior, and if we go in and you wanna leave at any time, we’re outta here okay?” He breathes out a small sigh of relief when you nod, a small giggle leaving your lips at his words. You take one last steadying breath before throwing open the door of the truck, smoothing out your outfit, and letting the flowers you had picked up for your mother rest in your arms.

You knock at the door and feel your nerves setting in again, but Joel's hand is holding yours and you feel like he’s pulling you back down to the ground again, keeping you steady. You’re both met with a loud laugh and are pulled in for a hug when your mother opens the door. “Oh! Sweetheart, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! You certainly look like you’re eating well.” You did not miss those passive-aggressive comments at all, so you hand her the flowers with a tight-lipped smile, mumbling something about just having more time to make the food you enjoy,

And being the attentive boyfriend that he is, Joel senses your discomfort immediately. He turns on his southern charm and throws one of those gorgeous smiles at your mother, complimenting her cooking and how good it smells in here. “If her cooking is any indicator, I’ll be asking for a to-go bag tonight.” Your mother just blushes and goes on about how her food isn’t that good but she hopes he likes it. You grin, watching the two of them interact helping your nerves dissipate slightly. Joel was always a charmer, that’s why you were drawn to him, he knew how to make you feel safe which was something you had seldom felt in this house.

You’re sitting on one of the chairs, head leaning against his shoulder while he laughs at something your mother says. It finally feels like you can breathe like you don't have to put your guard up because Joel does it for you. And then suddenly it’s like the floor is being ripped out from under you as your father makes his way downstairs. It was like you were 16 again begging to get his approval for anything, waiting for the day someone would whisk you out of that house. You sit up straight and move your head from Joel’s shoulder and let your eyes dart to his, and he is visibly angry. Joel knows about your father, the fights and the screaming matches, the way you were so similar it made you sick, and he just could never understand how someone would ever treat their child that way.

Now your father isn’t necessarily short but Joel was looming over him, eyes burning daggers in his direction as you both stood up to greet him. Joel’s hand envelopes your fathers in a grip that looks like it could break a bone and you give your father a curt nod and however much of a smile you can muster up with a quiet “hi dad.” only to be met with a grunt like you weren’t even worth sparing a few words to say hello to before muttering and going to sit on the couch. “It's alright Joel… he’s just like that baby... let it go.” you manage to press a kiss to his cheek to let him know you’re alright, it wasn’t like you were expecting the world's warmest greeting anyway.

Joel tries to let it go. He really tries for you. But it is so hard being nice to someone who hurt the person you love. So he brings up Sarah, not out of spite really, he just loves to talk about his girl. “Comes up to visit almost every month, jobs got her real busy though,” he says, taking a sip of beer, eyes focussed on your father across the table. “Couldn't go without seein’ her.” Joel’s face immediately brightens up when he talks about Sarah, the pride he feels for his girl sparkling behind his eyes.

Your father is not a man who is good at hiding his emotions, anger, and resentment showing clearly on his face. “‘M sure it’s nice to have a daughter who amounts to somethin’,” you feel your blood go cold for a moment, tears stinging in your eyes as you duck your head down to look at your plate very carefully. Joel’s hand is immediately squeezing yours, bringing you back down to earth, back to him. You take a deep breath to respond, but before you even get the chance, Joel’s voice is hurdling at your father.

“Sure is. You’d understand what it would feel like if ya made any effort to be in her life.” The silence in the room is eerie. You cannot remember a single time in your life when your father didn’t have something to say, something to hurl at you in a fit of anger, only to claim it never happened after the fact. You feel Joel squeeze your hand again as your father shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, not making eye contact with either of you. Your mother just looks between Joel and your father silently, apparently still unwilling to stand up for you. You press your eyes shut for a moment at the absurdity of it all; the absurdity of bringing Joel to meet your parents, of him trying to defend you, at the idea that you had truly believed that your parents would have changed. You knew better than to hope for things like that.

The rest of the dinner passes in relative silence, save for a few questions your mother asks Joel about his work and a minor argument that ensues because Joel mentions his love for the UT Longhorns after your father brings up his love for the Aggies. You roll your eyes at Joel when he throws up the Hook ‘Em hands before you get up to wash the dishes, only stopping when Joel tugs at your wrist. You look down at where he’s sitting, eyebrows raised at you because you're well aware that washing the dishes is his job “Baby it’s okay, I'll just do them today”

Joel just shakes his head and pulls at your wrist again, essentially pulling you back into your chair. “Don’t think so angel, you know that’s my job,” you giggle with a small nod of your head before the both of you turn to look at your father who is scoffing from his seat. “‘S there a problem?”

Your father rolls his eyes at Joel, clearly still upset about how dinner went. “Just think you should let the woman do the woman’s job, ain't yours to do.” Your father barks that out with such ease that Joel thinks he sees red for a second. He grew up helping his mamma around the house when he was younger and became even more fond of cooking and cleaning when Sarah was born, so it is safe to say that he doesn’t agree with the idea that housework is a “woman's job.”

You know how Joel feels about this but your father is getting irritated again and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to take another argument between them, so you’re trying to grab the plates from Joel again. But stubborn as he is, Joel does not let up, especially if it means letting your father think that he’s right. “I don’t think so, sweet girl. Ain’t the 1950’s anymore, if you’re too pussy to wash a dish wouldn’t consider you a real man.” Your mouth falls open slightly, and you try to bite back your smile when your father huffs and gets up from the table muttering something about not knowing a real man if it bit him in the ass.

You finish helping your mother put leftovers in the fridge, save for a bag filled to the brim with leftovers for Joel, and catch a glimpse of Joel smirking happily to himself while the sink runs hot over his hands. You sneak behind him and press a kiss on his shoulder blade, letting your hands snake around his waist. “I’ll be honest baby, kinda hot watching you tell him off like that..” You hear him huff out a laugh before he shuts the water off and spins you around in his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips before letting his mouth drop to your neck. You giggle as he nips at your skin lightly, but push him off gently after a moment. “They’re gonna see you, Mr. Miller, gonna get me in trouble.”

“Is that so?” his hands are on your waist, prints from the water on your shirt. He grins down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. “let ‘em see baby, not their little girl anymore, all mine now.” He presses another kiss to your neck, finding the spot right above your pulse point and drawing a small mewl from between your lips, before standing up straight and letting go of your waist, a grin plastered to his face.

“You’re an absolute menace, you know that?” You squint your eyes at him, poking a finger into his chest, eliciting a laugh to tumble from his mouth. You give him a small kiss again and find yourself smiling into it. “‘M ready to go home now baby,” you murmur against the plush of his lips, wanting to feel his hands on your body again. Joel simply nods and grabs your purse for you while you say an awkward goodbye to your parents. You take your purse from his hands and open the door only to be met with the sight of rain. You were used to how quickly Austin would flood when a storm hit, you had grown up with it, but you hadn’t checked the weather and this was certainly dampening your plans to go home.

You turn around to face Joel, eyebrows furrowed and before either of you can say anything your mother is swooping in. “Well, now I cannot send you two out in this weather! I have your old room set up still, and Joel can take the guest room!” Your eyes lock with Joel's, taking in the look of shock on his face. You should have assumed that your parents would be weird about letting Joel stay in the same room as you, despite living with him, but you were still caught off guard.

You say your goodnights and thank yous, your father’s grip on Joel’s hand dangerously tight, before showing Joel up to the guest room giggling about having to be apart for the night. “Dunno how I’ll be able to sleep without you angel,” he groans sitting down on the old guest bed.

You roll your eyes and kiss the scar on his nose “Sure you’ll be okay for one night cowboy, I’ll see you in the morning, ‘kay?” He just scrunches up his nose in response and plants a few more kisses on your lips before letting you walk out to your room. You can hear him exaggerate a sigh as you close the door and walk back to your old bedroom. You grin to yourself before walking into your room, taking in the sight of what used to be yours. Your hands skim over your dresser, the drawers mostly empty from when you packed in haste to move in with Joel, dried petals from the last bouquet of flowers he had gotten you still sitting in a small jewelry box. Pink sheets, pink pillows, and at least five stuffed animals still sit in their perfect setting on your bed, and a pang of guilt for leaving them bubbles up inside of you. You sigh and pull out an old shirt from the drawer and slip into it, foregoing pants and just staying in your panties.

You spread out on the bed making futile attempts to fall asleep. It wasn’t like you needed Joel to be next to you, but you missed his hand draped around your waist and the way his body was a literal furnace to the point where you had to take the blankets off. Your mind cannot stop thinking about him. The way his hand was on the small of your back when you came into the house, the way he stood up for you when your father was speaking, the taste of his lips when he pulled you in for one last kiss before you left his room. You let your fingers trail down your body, sneaking into your panties and letting out a shaky sigh when you feel the slick pooling between your legs, eyes falling shut for a moment before situating a pillow between your legs. You press your face softly into one of the stuffed animals Joel had given you, the smell of him just barely lingering in it, and start to grind your hips down on the pillow. Your breath hitches when you feel the pressure on your clit through your panties, moans muffled by the bunny as you grind your hips down chasing your pleasure. Your eyes are still shut imagining Joel, lost in your pleasure until you hear a low whistle behind you, making your head whip around, your heart pounding a mile a minute.

And there he is. Joel is leaning against your door, when he got in is beyond you, his eyes are hungry and locked in on you, eyebrows raising when you stop to turn around. “Why’re you stopping, baby? Go on, put on a show for me.” Your mouth opens to answer, but he’s cutting you off with a small tsk and a shake of his head “Nuh-uh. Don't get shy on me now, sweet thing, keep going.” His voice leaves no room for discussion, and his hands are on your waist pulling you flush with the pillow again. You whine when his hands leave your body, and try to turn around to grab at him. He pins your hips back down to the pillow, a low noise leaving his throat. “Like you were before, wanna see what you used to do when you miss me”

A whimper leaves your mouth and you lay your head back down on the bed, pussy grinding on the pillow again. You move your hips back and forth, breathing becoming heavier as you angle your hips a bit higher and you bite back a whine as you clench around nothing “Joel please-” you plead, looking up at him over your shoulder with wide eyes, “want you to touch me,” A small shudder movies through your body as you whine at him again.

He just shakes his head at you, eyes not leaving your clothed cunt, “Not yet baby.” He brings his hands back to your waist and traces small circles into the skin just above your panties.

“but-” You keep grinding but throw a pout at him trying to get his decision to sway.

He swats at your ass, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to be a good warning “You arguing with me baby?” His eyebrows are raised, the look in his eyes not one that wants to deal with a brat tonight.

You shake your head with a pitiful no sir and keep grinding on the pillow, your panties fully drenched by now. You feel your hips start to stutter as your climax catches up with you, a sheen of sweat covering your body. Your stomach is clenching and your breaths are ragged, “Joel- fuck gonna cum, oh god- fuck-” You babble at him, words muffled, legs trembling lightly, and eyes falling shut as you’re hit with your orgasm, face falling into the stuffed bunny again.

You try to steady your breaths after coming down from your high, eyes still closed until you feel his hands sneak around your waist and under your shirt, grabbing your tits softly. “Fuck, you’re such a filthy girl, probably did this all the time when you thought about me? Desperate fucking thing.” You groan into his touch, and arch your back into him when he pulls you flush against his chest. He grabs at the hem of your shirt, before pulling it off and tossing it to one of the corners of the room, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. You let out a squeak when he tugs at them before he lets go and presses his hand over your mouth. “Quiet. Gonna wake up your parents, or is that what you want, hmm?” His hand dips into your panties, rough fingers swirling over your clit “wanna get caught in the room you grew up in?”

A whine leaves your mouth, muffled behind his hand, as you try to grind into his fingers. He brings his hand back to your nipple, flicking at the nub and making you jump. “Joel please- need it” You plead as he circles your clit.

Joel pauses, drawing a pathetic whimper to leave your lips. “Came already and want another one? Greedy fucking thing” You nod at his words before yelping when he throws you down onto the bed and pulls you down to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He throws your legs over his shoulders and you buck your hips into the air, trying to catch his touch. He rests his head on the plush of your thigh, eyes on yours, waiting for you to ask for what you want.

Your eyes are pleading with his, hoping that you can get out of having to beg by batting your lashes at him. “I’ll be so good for you, please.” your lip trembles a bit, hips still moving in the air, trying to get into his mouth. He relents and his lips press against your thighs, his stubble scratching at it gently, before pressing a kiss to your clit, making you jump softly. “Fuckk thank you.” Your head falls back as his tongue sweeps over your weeping cunt, his arm pinning your hips down to keep you from bucking into his face.

His tongue dips into your slit, making your back arch off the bed as your hands fist in his hair. His lips wrap around your clit, and your hand clamps over your mouth to stop the obscene noises you were making from leaving it. His fingers tease your entrance before slipping into you and thrusting in and out at the same pace he was flicking his tongue. You feel your thighs start to tremble and clench around his head, your grip on his hair growing tighter as you feel your second orgasm hit you, red hot in the bottom of your spine, and up to the tingling in your fingers. Joel’s pace does not slow down as he coaxes you through it, hitting all the right spots. “Fuck look at her baby.” He says pulling his fingers out of you and spreading your slick over your pussy. “Fucking weeping for me. I’ll give her what she needs don't worry”

His fingers press against your lips, and you let them into your mouth, tasting yourself off of him and groaning at the taste. He drags his spit-covered fingers down your chest, relishing in the fucked out look on your face. He takes off his jeans letting his cock spring free, dumb bastard going commando at your parents' house, and spits into his hand before fisting his cock in your line of sight. You whine at him, pouting your lips at him, cunt dripping down your thighs onto your bed. He chuckles at you and brings his hands to your waist, before slipping his cock into you, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. “Look at that sweet girl, taking me so well.” He moves so his cock is buried to the hilt in your cunt, the coarse hair that surrounds him pressing into your pelvis.

You try to rock against him, to gain any friction. “Joel please move... please I want it” You plead with him, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. “Gonna be so good for you Daddy, please” And that does him in. He lets out a groan and thrusts into you with enough force to move your headboard. His cock is hitting you in just the right spot, filling you up almost too much.

You feel yourself clench around him as his hand tightens around your waist, one of your legs wrapped around his back, pulling him in deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good angel,” he says as your pussy clenches around him like it was begging for his cum. “Make you all mine, show everyone who you belong to,” his thrusts are growing messier, and you can feel another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s almost too much. Your toes curl and you meet his thrusts as you let out a pathetic slew of pleasepleasepleaseplease before you feel him cumming inside you with a soft pant of your name. You feel him pull out of you slowly, his cock replaced with his fingers. “Said I was gonna make you mine, gotta make sure it takes.” His fingers collect the cum that leaks out of you in the most obscene way and pushes it back into you, as a shaky breath leaves your lips at the depravity of his words.

“Fuck thank you, baby,” You manage to get out after what feels like an eternity of recovering from your orgasm. Joel shoots you a sleepy grin, before wrapping his clean hand around yours and laying his head down on your chest, looking up at you with love in his eyes.

“I should be thanking you, sweet girl. Did so fucking good for me” You grin and look down at him with sleepy eyes and run a hand through his hair.

“You know you gotta get back to the guest room right?” You ponder, realizing the situation that you were in. The idea of your mother waking up to find you naked and stuffed full of Joel’s cum was horrifying.

Joel just grins back up at you, pressing a kiss to the underside of your breast before pushing himself up off your bed and peeking at the window. “Dunno baby.. Rain stopped a while ago, I'm ready to just get outta here.” He raises his eyebrows at you, sliding back into his jeans as you drop your arm over your face with a dopey smile playing across your lips.

“So long as you carry me to the truck, I'm game, baby” You bite your lip and smile up at him as he tosses your dress at you before he scoops you up and tromps down the stairs quietly and puts you into the passenger seat before getting in and pulling out of the driveway. “Thank you for being there tonight baby.. I love you.”

Joel just smiles at you, half asleep in his passenger’s seat, and runs a hand over your knee before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Love you too angel. Don’t plan on ever making you come up here again though” You just giggle and lace your fingers through his, extremely content to just spend the rest of your days with Joel, not worried about your parents.

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS. Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller au #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal #papaya writes <3

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awesumsaus · 5 months

Text

pretty when I cry

wc: 6k

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: what was meant to be a slow relaxing morning after a night out with joel turns into something much more.

a/n: so I’ve been trying to work out the rest of my tlou series but couldn’t get this idea out of my head. it’s entirely self-indulgent, absolute filth, literally inspired by porn (but with feelings). pls skip if you’re not comfortable with anything outlined in the warnings/tags, otherwise hope y’all enjoy :] (and if anyone has any interest in a part two lmk bc I may or may not have some ideas lolol)

warnings/tags: explicit 18+ (minors dni), no outbreak au, softdom!joel, smut with a hint of plot, established relationship, age gap, reader is described as small/little but also curvy, hints of possessive!joel, daddy kink, almost dd/lg dynamics, subspace, oral (f receiving), slight somnophilia (very consensual), size kink, dirty talk, so many petnames (baby, honey, pretty girl, little girl), painful sex but Joel is a consent king, aftercare, fingering, *cough* butt stuff *cough*, unprotected pinv, squirting, barely proofread sorry

It wasn’t uncommon, for you to wake up like this, Joel’s head of salt and pepper curls dipped below the covers, his mouth eagerly pulling an orgasm from your pliant body. So it comes as no surprise when you’re roused awake by the sound of your own whines and whimpers, slipping through your lips like soft little pleas. Your tired eyes shift to the top of his head, the sheets bunched at his wide shoulders, leaving you bare and exposed to the cool morning breeze blowing through the open bedroom window.

He works in slow languid movements, yet he has you gushing around his tongue nonetheless, his mouth warm and wet against your dripping sex, still soft and swollen from the previous night’s activities. You’d fallen asleep, damp and sticky, only after he’d pounded you into his mattress until the early hours of the morning.

Upon waking, the feeling of his cum still dripping out of you, legs wrapped around one of his dense thighs, it drove him positively insane. It didn’t matter how peacefully asleep you were, how steadily you drew breaths between your plush lips, he had to have you the moment his eyes set on you.

He senses you’re awake when your fingers delicately twist through the curls at the crown of his head. He hums contentedly against you, the vibrations making your eyes fall closed once more as wanting sounds slip past your lips. You’d never been one for religion, but seeing Joel for the past several months has you questioning everything. The way his mouth moves against your pulsing core leaves you with no choice but to believe in some higher power, some celestial being that deemed you lucky enough to allow a man like Joel into your life.

He pulls away from your messy cunt and you whine at the loss. Your glossed over eyes meeting his with pupils blown wide. “Mornin’ pretty girl,” he says, his voice gruff and his lips shining with your slick. The sight sends another wave of warmth straight to your core.

“Hi,” you say, tone gentle and weary with sleep. A timid smile spreads across your lips as you run a hand through his scruff. No matter how many times you wake up next to him, how many times he fucks you senseless, you always manage to grow shy under his salacious stare.

He plants a fleeting kiss to your clit and you shudder, you can feel him smirk even as your gaze shifts to the ceiling above you. Your hand unknowingly grips his hair tighter and urges him towards where you need him most, not even noticing your own action until you hear Joel let out an amused chuckle.

“So needy for me, huh baby?” He runs a hand from your thigh over the curve of your hip, his touch featherlight over the certain spot by your hipbone that he knows drives you wild. His fingers end splayed across your lower belly, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin.

“Always need you, daddy,” you say, only slightly above a whisper, a small buck of your hips to get your point across. The petname has his already half hard cock twitching against the sheets, his other hand instinctively squeezes the flesh of your hip.

With no warning, his lips are on you again, his pace now fast and increasingly sloppy. He eats at you like a man starved, his curved nose rubbing against your clit with each of his movements. The intensity of it all makes your head spin and your cunt clench around nothing. A ghosting pain lingers in your lower half, another reminder of the evening prior.

The two of you had gone out, like you often did on Friday nights, deciding on a new spot downtown. Joel was hesitant at first, having heard it was more popular with the younger crowd, more catered to people your age. But he’d learned early in your relationship that saying no to you was nearly impossible, with your big doe eyes and sweet pleading smiles, he rarely had it in him to deny anything your little heart desired.

But God, the little black dress you wore nearly had him throwing you over his shoulder and locking you away in his bedroom for only his eyes to ever behold. Joel would never admit to being the possessive type. He knew what other men saw in you, wide eyed and sweet, kind beyond reason, with a gorgeous smile and beautiful curves. He saw the way they’d look at you, saw the way their eyes followed your perfect form, like predators stalking their prey.

He would never admit to being the possessive type, but his incessant grip around your waist in every public space and the death glares he’d send any man that looked your way proved otherwise. And despite your attempts to dissuade his arrogance, there was a part of you that craved to be claimed, to be marked as his.

The week had been long and draining. Your overbearing boss forced you to work overtime into the late hours of the evening nearly every night, and with Joel’s days often starting as early as 5am, he was usually sound asleep by the time you’d managed to feed yourself and drag your exhausted corpse to bed.

To no fault of his own, Joel hadn’t paid much attention to you this week, leaving you feeling neglected and irritated despite his generally relentless attentiveness towards you. And so you decided to toy with him, always testing his limits and seeing how far you can go before he snaps. You wouldn’t admit it, but you kinda liked him a little angry.

And boy was it easy to get a rise out of him, especially dressed the way you were, your ass only just covered and your tits spilling over the tight corset-like top of your dress. You had his blood boiling before the two of you even left his house. When you finally walked through the bar entrance, Joel was like a guard dog, his arm wrapped tightly around your lower waist, a permanent scowl imprinted on his face towards the many male bar goers that ogled you. He had you tucked so close to his body you were nearly tripping over his feet with each of your steps.

After your first drink you were feeling antsy, and a bit too bold for you own good, and so you flirted with them, boys you had not a single shred of interest in, laughed at their jokes and accepted their offers to buy you drinks, all the while glancing back at Joel, biting your lip, trying not to giggle at his grimace and the way redness began spreading up his neck. You’d retreat back to your table, to Joel, prizes in hand, and feign innocence when he’d question what you were up to.

“What do y’ think you’re doin’,” he questioned after you had slipped away to the bar a second time under the guise of needing to use the restroom. You padded up to him, slotting yourself between his thighs, twirling the straw in your drink between your fingers. Even sitting on the barstool he towered over you.

“Nothin’, daddy.” You looked up at him through your lashes, knowing fully well what your words did to him. You brought the hand that wasn’t holding your drink to his upper thigh, you could feel the muscle tense as you slid your way up, up, up.

“Watch it, little girl.“ He grabbed your wrist, hard. You instinctively tried to pull away, but his grip was firm. He jerked you towards him, your chests nearly touching before bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly, a stark contrast to the death grip he still had on your wrist.

His voice was low, a sign of warning. “F’ you want somethin’ from me, all you gotta do is ask, darlin’.”

You huffed and pouted slightly when he released you, ignoring the fact that your actions resembled those of a petulant child. Despite knowing that he would give you anything you asked of him, having proved it to you countless times over the course of your relationship, the neglected feeling in your chest grew. You didn’t want to ask, sick of making decisions and telling others what to do after the week you’d had. You wanted him to take.

It was after your third disappearance, this time to actually use the restroom, that Joel snapped. Passing by the bar, one of the young men that bought you a drink attempted to stop you in your tracks. You didn’t pay him much attention, just smiled and nodded at his words, quietly trying to slip by. But then his hands were on you, grabbing your waist in a way that made your stomach turn. You hadn’t even had time to register a response, to push him away and run back to Joel, before his hands were leaving your body and being replaced by much larger ones, rough and calloused. Joel’s hands.

“We’re leaving, now,” he grunted, pulling you by the back of your arm towards the exit. It was only after he’d practically thrown you into the passenger’s seat of his truck that you knew you were in for it.

You’d barely made it to the front door before he was ripping the fabric of your little black dress from your body, letting the torn pieces fall to the floor. Immediately you’d attempted to scold him, it was one of your favorites, but couldn’t get a word in before he was throwing your bare body over his shoulder and carrying you to his bedroom, promising he’d buy you as many dresses as you wanted if you’d shut up and let him have his way with you, let him fuck you stupid, until the only thoughts going through your head were Joel, Joel, Joel.

He spent the following hours relentlessly pulling orgasm after orgasm from your pliable body, impaling you on his thick cock until hot tears streamed down your cheeks.

“I know, baby,” he said from his place behind you, your limp whimpering form draped across the edge of the bed. “Just needed to be reminded who you belong to, huh?” His voice was mocking, but with a certain sincerity that made your cunt clench even harder around him.

“Yours, daddy,” was all you could manage before you came around his cock for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

Needless to say you were feeling extra sensitive this morning, Joel was hyper aware of this fact, yet the feeling of his tongue repeatedly diving into your abused hole had you begging for more. “Need you inside,” you say despite the hurt. Joel holds back a groan at your pleas, needy little thing. He pulls away just slightly to meet your gaze, his breath still hot against your core.

“Not gonna put my cock in you, honey.” The finality in his voice makes your heart drop and tears prick in the corners of your eyes. You were always like this in the mornings, he had come to notice, sensitive, soft, often emotionally even more so than physically. Joel had always been an assured man, never impulsive or reckless in his actions, always thoughtful and never selfish. But with you he’d learned patience. He’d learned to hold your emotions in the palm of his hand with a certain gentleness he never knew himself capable of. He’d learned you often needed more time than most to become placid, to settle, and so it became almost a sense of his, knowing when to take and when to give, even when you weren’t sure yourself.

“Please-“ you whine, tears in your voice. His big brown eyes soften when they meet yours, his resolve slipping only momentarily while he moves to kiss the inside of each of your thighs.

“Not gonna convince me, baby.” he tuts. “Can’t take me yet.” He moves higher, nuzzles into the soft skin above your clit. You let out a small gasp when he starts sucking harshly, surely leaving a bruise, a mark that only he will ever see.

“I can. I promise.” You wriggle in his hold, feel your wetness drip onto the sheets. He nips the spot and pulls away.

“Quit.” He pins your hips harder, his eyes meeting yours once more. “Maybe if you hadn’t been such a goddamn tease last night I wouldn’t’ve had to wreck this perfect little pussy.” He runs a finger through your folds as he says it and you tense slightly. He raises an eyebrow at you, an I told you so look, you huff in frustration, yet you relax in his hold.

“You ready to be good f’ me, baby?” His voice seeps through your ears like honey, your mind beginning to wander to that all too familiar headspace you often turned to in these moments. You nod your head, eyes hooded. Joel senses the shift. “You’re gonna take whatever daddy gives you yeah?”

“Yes,” you gasp as you feel just the tip of his index finger probe your dripping hole, Joel gauging your response.

“N’ then what d’ you say?” He twists his finger inside you and pushes in just to his first knuckle, the stretch already intense given your increased sensitivity.

“Thank you, daddy,” you sigh, not a single shred of fight left in you. A devilish smirk spreads across his face.

“Good girl.”

His hands are on the backs of both your thighs, hiking your legs up so that they’re pressed firmly against your chest, your glistening folds on full display. You shiver as the cool morning air hits where you’re most vulnerable. He then pushes your knees apart, situating himself so that his mouth is only inches from your core while still holding you in place, your legs spread obscenely wide to accommodate the breadth of his shoulders.

He spits directly on your clit and watches as it drips down your cunt, combining with the mess of wet already there. It’s entirely unnecessary, but it’s how Joel likes you, filthy with his cum and spit and your own slick. You tremble as he smooths his hand over your mound, his undivided attention on the mess he’s creating. When he’s satisfied, the pad of his thumb finds your clit, rubbing small circles into the bundle of nerves, making your hips buck once more.

He pauses his movements, his eyes dark and entirely void of any sense of leniency. “Not gonna tell you again.” A tear pools in your lower lashes at the loss of his touch, your breathing goes shaky.

“So pretty when you cry f’ me, honey,” his tone mocking. “Almost as pretty as when you come for me.”

His mouth is back on you, even more ravening and unrelenting than before. You have to bite down on your pillow to prevent yourself from screaming when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his warm mouth. Every cell in your body is screaming for his touch, needing more, more, more. You want to be enveloped by him by not just his mouth, but every part of him. You have the sudden desire to crawl under his skin, make a home for yourself there, where all you can ever feel is him, him, him.

The peaceful sound of birds chirping outside the window is drowned out by your cries and the pornographic squelches of your wet sex. Your vision blurs as his tongue plunges in and out of you.

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” he pulls away for only a second, his eyes not leaving your center as he anchors his thick arms under your ass and thighs, bringing your cunt impossibly closer to his eager mouth.

Joel knows your body, knows what every twitch and minor shift means, how your breathing quickens when he’s brought you right to the edge, the sounds you make when you’ve completely given in, forfeited all control. And he senses it, when his thumb presses against the cleft of your ass, and a moan slips from deep within your throat, that he’s uncovered something, something that makes his cock twitch and drip onto the sheets below him.

He pulls away quick, too quick, and your face burns, the fleeting sensation prompting a new surge of desire in the pit of your stomach. The feeling was foreign, a bit startling, but in a way that left you longing for more. If you were to trust anyone to delve into this part of yourself, this uncharted territory, it would be Joel. It would always be Joel. He knew how to take care of you better than any man you’d ever known. With him you were safe, you were heard, cherished and adored. With him there was no emotion too big or too small, no desire left unsated.

“Joel-“ you breath. “Joel, baby. I want-“

He pulls away from you, a knowing look in his glassed over eyes. “What is it, honey? What d’ you want?”

He can’t help himself and licks a long strip from your asshole to your clit, moaning at the taste. “Fuck- Joel,” you cry out, a drop of sweat falling to your forehead. “Want- want your fingers.”

“Where d’ you want my fingers, baby.” He says it more like a command than a question, but you can’t respond, your head falling back as he starts lapping at your clit. “You want them in this sweet little cunt?” He prods one of his thick fingers at your opening, but quickly pulls away, leaving you clenching around nothing.

You bite your lip, eyes hooded. “Mm,” you shake your head. His eyes are nearly black now, something unhinged, sinful behind his gaze. He knows what you want, the seed already planted in his insatiable brain, but he wasn’t going to give in to your pleads that easily.

“Dirty girl.” His voice has dropped an octave. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please, daddy” you squirm, tears pooling at your waterline, threatening to fall at any second. His hardened grip on your hips softens for a moment before he’s turning his head and biting the inside of your thigh, hard. You gasp, a tear rolls down your cheek. “Use your words.”

“I wan- I-I don’t-,” you babble, the tears now flowing freely, leaving wet trails down your cheeks. He lets you choke on your words for a moment, not once tearing his eyes away from yours.

“Oh honey, I know s’ hard,” he soothes, sliding his hand along the curve of your ass. Your tears slow. “S’okay. Daddy’s gonna give you what you need. No more cryin’.”

You sniffle, a small smile spreading across your face at his words. You always had a way of making him cave.

His expression goes serious for a moment. “What’s your safe word?” Red. “And you’ll use it if you want me to stop?” Mhm. “Repeat it.” His commanding tone sends a chill down your spine. “If I want you to stop, I’ll say red,” you say softly and run a hand through his curls, wet with a mixture of your sweat and his own.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna make you feel so good,” he says more to himself than you. Your brain turns to absolute mush when his mouth meets your skin once again.

Even with his head between your legs, even when he’s on his knees for you, he’s the one in charge, the one that dictates your every move. How your body twists and bends to his will. He decides when you get to cum, decides when you’ve earned it. And there’s a certain feeling that comes with it, this loss of autonomy, a sense of ease and security created by a total loss of control. No other man you’ve been with has understood, most of them only seeking to fulfill their own selfish wants. But Joel knows, having understood this unfamiliar part of you almost as soon as the two of you met, knowing exactly how to satiate that little corner of your brain that craves submission.

You suck in a sharp breath when you feel his calloused thumb return to your tight hole, tensing a bit when he adds more pressure.

“Relax, baby.” And you do, your muscles go lax almost immediately and the furrow in your brow softens. You exhale a moan as he begins kissing your cunt, avoiding your most sensitive areas so that he can keep you focused on the feeling of his thumb pushing into you.

“Fu- fuck, Joel!” You basically shriek when the tip of his thumb breeches the ring of muscle, it’s already all consuming, already so full.

He retracts his thumb and you let out a choked sound before he brings his thick finger to your wetness, gathering slick on the pad of his thumb before resuming his unrushed stretching of your virgin hole.

“More ngh- please.” He prods you painfully slow, assessing your every reaction as his knuckle plunges into you.

“Uh-uh. Don’t care how nice n’ polite you ask, baby. Not gonna ruin this little hole.” He plants wet kisses along your seam. “Not yet,” he says almost inaudibly against your mound before devouring you once more. The promise of more makes something in your brain snap, all the shyness and trepidations from before gone in one fleeting moment.

He stretches you slowly, the speed of his mouth quickening and his thumb beginning to slide more easily in and out of you. You’re entirely lost in the feeling, completely overwhelmed by the pressure and the speed of his tongue on your clit. You cry out when he removes his thumb, replacing it with his middle finger, and dipping his freed digit into your cunt, completely overcome, overstimulated in the best way.

It’s too much, but not enough. But no, it’s too much. He’s everywhere, in your cunt, your ass, your head. All you can think is how anything in life could ever feel this good. How anyone can be this good, this knowing of your every want, every need. The thought makes tears pinch at the corner of your eyes.

His gaze is fixed on you, every twitch, every shift. He nearly comes at the sight of you grinding down on his fingers. That’s it baby, fuck yourself on my fingers. His movements slow, your orgasm begins to fade and you whine. You’re not even thinking when you bring your delicate fingers to your clit and trace small circles against the bundle of nerves. Joel immediately grabs your hand and pins it to your lower stomach, nearly growling against your skin. Any other time he’d have you bent over his knee for not asking permission, but he’s so drunk on you, so dead-set on making you come apart, he lets this one slide.

“Need t’ come so bad, huh baby?” You nod your head furiously, a few more tears slipping down your cheeks. “Go ‘head n’ ask for it then, baby. Nice n’ polite like I know you can.”

“Please daddy, please let me come.” You barely register the words falling from your mouth, but the proud look on Joel’s face tells you all you need to know.

It doesn’t take much to send you over the edge. He sucks harshly on your clit, pulling it into his mouth, while his thick fingers work each of your holes. His hand holding yours presses harder, harder, harder until the tension snaps and you’re screaming, sobbing out as you gush around him, soaking his scruff to the point that your slick drips from his chin and onto the already drenched sheets. He works you through it, curling his fingers into your cunt so that another warm stream of slick hits his tongue. And he takes, not letting a single drop go to waste as he laps at you.

Your head is still buzzing when he finally ceases his movements, the shockwaves of your orgasm still flowing through you making your whole body shake. Your muscles convulse as he slowly pulls his fingers from your core.

With blurred vision you watch him stand at the end of the bed, his cock painfully hard, red and leaking. You hadn’t even considered what all this was doing to him, so lost in your own pleasure from the moment your eyes opened. You have the sudden urge to fall to your knees and take him into your mouth until he comes deep down your throat, but your body is limp, sunk into the mattress below you. You merely watch with hooded eyes as he fists himself, his gaze fixed on your slicked core, the sight makes another pool of your arousal drip onto the sheets.

“Fuck-“ he sucks in a sharp breath, his hips stuttering against his own hold. “Need t’ be inside this tight cunt, baby.”

Your eyes go slightly wide at his confession, yet your lower half shakes with anticipation. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this, this wrecked, desperate, this needy. He looks almost pained when your eyes meet his, and you feel as though you may just implode if he’s not inside you a moment longer.

“Will you let me, pretty girl?”

You nod.

“Yes or no, baby?” He squeezes the base of his shaft, staving off his impending release. You can’t help but smile a little, knowing he could come just like this, just from looking at you in your current state. But the need to feel him inside of you pulls you from the thought.

Yes, please, yes.

He grabs your hips and swiftly flips you, shoving a pillow under your lower belly and pushing down on you until you’re laid almost flat on your stomach. He grabs roughly at your hips, pulling you up so that his cock brushes up against your slick folds.

You bite down on your forearm when his wide tip notches at your entrance, basically drooling onto your own skin as you attempt to hold back your cries. He eases into you, still overly conscious of your sensitivity, ignoring the small part of his brain telling him to ram into you, make you feel every inch of him in one swift motion. He knows that you would take it, thank him for it, always such a good girl for him especially once he’s finally inside you, yet he knows the kind of control he has over you in these moments, knows it’s up to him to determine what you can and can’t take.

When he bottoms out you feel as though you may just split in two, something animalistic sounds from deep within Joel’s throat. Tears fall to your arm when your head lolls to the side, your breathing ragged and your whole body on fire from both pain and pleasure.

“Fuck- not gonna last, baby.” He starts moving in and out of you slowly, and god, it hurts, yet your tight cunt sucks him back in with each of his thrusts, a delicious burning sensation spreading along your slick walls. You open your mouth to respond, to tell him not to worry himself, to beg him to come inside your aching cunt. But all that escapes your lips is a choked sob in the sound of Joel’s name.

“Shh I know,” he coos. “You’re just so little, huh sweet thing? Little fucking cunt squeezing me so good honey.”

You keen at his praise, gushing around his massive girth. You’d never get used to it, the thickness of his cock, the weight of him deep inside your cunt. No matter how much he prepares you, it’s always a stretch, always just short of too much to bare.

His thumb presses into the cleft of your ass as his pace increases. “Gonna let me fuck you here, baby?”

“Yes daddy,” you say and he freezes for a moment, your words nearly sending him over the edge.

“Not today, little girl,” he growls and rocks back into you. A feeling of combined relief and disappointment washes over you. You’re not sure you could take it, not now, but part of you craves to be reduced to nothing but Joel’s fuck toy, fucked deep and full until you can’t even think, nothing but a few holes to be filled.

“You’d let me though, wouldn’t ya?” He pulls you from your thought. “Dirty fuckin’ thing.”

“Mhm, yes daddy.” Your vision goes black at the feeling of his cock pulsing against your cervix. He was close, you could feel it in the way his thrusts went erratic, sloppy and slightly hurried.

“Let me do whatever I want to ya, huh?”

“Yes daddy,” you say the only two words left in your brain.

“Fuck, so fucking perfect, baby-“ The feeling of his warm release shooting inside of you makes you twitch around him and your brain go fuzzy. You can barely hear Joel’s grunts and moans nor his incessant praises over the ringing in your ears. This is what you craved, beyond the physical gratification brought on by these moments, but the way the world around you disappeared and you were filled with nothing but the content of being his, being Joel’s. The safety you felt beneath his large form, it leaves no room for worry, no thoughts of the stress of everyday life, no decisions to be made. Just him, just Joel.

You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like this, long enough to feel your combined release dripping from Joel’s cock onto your trembling thighs, long enough that you feel yourself dipping in and out of sleep, in and out of consciousness.

When he finally pulls out of you, he lets your hips softly fall onto the bed, your body sprawled across the damp sheets. You feel the mattress shift behind you as he stands, immediately heading for the en suite bathroom. At the loss of his presence, you’re reminded of the open window, the now midmorning breeze dancing across your damp skin. You can’t help but wonder if the echoes of your morning endeavors made their way to the street below, if a neighbor passing by could make out the sounds of your shrieks and screams, if perhaps it’d been a cause for concern until it became apparent that your cries were derived from a place of pleasure and not pain nor fear.

Joel returns and takes quick notice of your shivering, immediately making his way to the window and shutting it. You smile to yourself at the sight of his bare backside, so strong and sturdy, the muscles in his shoulders sculpted from years of working on various job sites, tapering down to his waist, the dimples right above his ass. It’s truly a view you would never tire of.

“‘S impolite to stare, y’ know?” He catches your eye, a playful smirk spread across his face. You giggle at him, still laying on your belly, your head tucked into the crook of your elbow. He chuckles when you make grabby hands at him with your free hand, to which he quickly concedes, bending over at your side and planting a kiss on your lips. You sigh against him, carding your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer.

“Hey baby.” He breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your nose. He tucks fallen pieces of hair behind your ear. “You okay?”

You nod your head tiredly, unable to muster any more of a response, and he doesn’t attempt to pull one out of you, kissing your nose and rising back to his feet.

He disappears once again, this time returning dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a damp washcloth in hand. He sits next to you on the bed, moving to clean between your legs, but your thighs clamp shut. It’s a purely physical reaction, your body on high alert due to the sensitivity.

“Hey hey-“ he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine then leans over to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Just want t’ clean you up sweet girl. I’ll be so gentle, promise.” His soothing makes your legs instinctively relax and he brings the washcloth to the apex of your thighs. He’s gentle just like he promised, yet you still hiss slightly when the warm material meets your sensitive skin.

When he’s finished, he grabs one of his t-shirts and a pair of shorts from the dresser, quickly returning to your side and urging you to turn onto your back. He dresses you, your body like putty in his hands, his touch gentle and warm. You can’t deny the aching feeling in your lower half when he slides your shorts on, but it’s a good kind of ache, an ache you’ll crave as soon as it dissipates.

You grab at him again when he moves to pull away, but he makes it easy for you, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, careful not to bare any of his weight on you. The little whimpers that slip past your lips as your warm mouth moves across his make his spent cock twitch.

It scared him sometimes, the intensity with which he felt for you, the depth of his affections. It scared him, the thoughts he had, of what he would do to those who meant to hurt you, to those who have hurt you. It scared him, the thought of losing you, the lengths he would go to keep you safe, keep you here, here with him. But it was in these moments, when you’re laid beneath him, so soft and so lovely, that all those fears melted away.

Before things move any further, he hooks his arms under you and lifts you from the bed with ease. You don’t protest, not sure you could even if you wanted to, instead you latch onto him, curl your face into his neck and wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you downstairs to the living room.

He attempts to set you on the couch, but you cling to him like a koala, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “Let go,” he says firmly, a smile behind his words. “Don’t wanna,” you mumble against his skin, whining as he unfurls you from his torso and plops you on the couch. He places the TV remote in your hand, telling you to put somethin’ on, whatever you want.

He disappears into the kitchen and you attempt to sit up on the couch, your body going slack against the cushions. Your brain is still buzzing, it’s almost like you’re floating, not yet fully aware of your surroundings, but you can slowly feel yourself coming back to reality. You turn the TV on and set it to your latest recording.

Joel returns a few minutes later, your favorite water bottle and a plate of peanut butter toast in hand, a bottle of Advil in the other. He sits on the couch, immediately urging you onto his lap, and you don’t object.

“The Bachelor?” He says, a hint of judgement in his voice as he unscrews the cap of the Advil.

“You love it,” you respond, beginning to lose focus on the show as you squirm and slither against his body, making yourself comfortable as if he were part of the couch. Joel softly chuckles, wrapping an arm loosely around you.

He holds a few of the pills in front of you. “Joel I’m fine. I don’t-“

“Not asking, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes, but take the Advil from him nonetheless, swallowing them down when Joel holds the straw of your water bottle to your mouth, knowing your body would thank you for it later.

“Good girl,” he plants a quick kiss to your temple, before grabbing the toast from the coffee table, heat rises to your cheeks at his words.

He feeds you the toast, taking bites for himself while you chew. You hadn’t realized how depleted your body was, now feeling the haze lift with some food and water in your system. Every time it’s like coming back to earth, but fortunately you know that Joel will always be there to catch you.

y'all I’m not good at endings pls forgive me

but hope we enjoyed the rest :p

part two

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