#wheresarizona writes
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but now I’m your daisy
summary: It’s a random Thursday in the middle of spring, and Joel has a surprise for you—a surprise that’s an hour away from Jackson on horseback, that he insists on blindfolding you for.
pairing: Joel Miller/gn!reader (reader has smaller hands than Joel)
rating: T (No y/n, AGE GAP (unspecified, reader is an adult), Grumpy Joel Miller, a lil Possessive Joel Miller, FLUFF, it’s so fluffy, established relationship, kissing, purposely annoying Joel until he snaps at you, Joel being secretly romantic, MARRIAGE PROPOSAL (it’s so cute), cussing, did I mention fluff? Joel being so in love, Joel being the best dad to Ellie)
word count: 2.5k+
a/n: This can be read as a standalone or in the same universe as ‘but I would die for you in secret.’ An anon requested a ‘fluffy cute fic with an age gap (No smut)’ for Joel, and this extremely cute idea came to me that I wrote in one night. Shoutout to @littlemisspascal who loved the snippets I sent her, and thank you to the love of my life, @juletheghoul for betaing!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
but I would die for you in secret - Masterlist
“Are we there yet?” you ask for the thirteenth time in the span of an hour.
It’s the perfect spring day with the temperature outside not too hot and not too cold, the air feeling a little crisp when it fills your nose. The sun’s warmth is hitting your back, and you’re sure that if you could see the sky, it’d be a beautiful, clear, cerulean blue—you can’t see, though, not with the bandana over your eyes as you sit astride a horse, Joel on his own next to you holding his reins and yours to lead you.
His sigh is long and loud, and you can picture perfectly without having to look at his annoyed expression.
“No,” he growls. “The same damn answer as the last dozen or so times you asked.”
“Hey, don’t get mad at me—you haven’t spent an hour literally in the dark with no idea where the hell you’re going.”
“And I’ve told you it’s a surprise,” he rumbles.
“Well, are we close to this surprise?”
He sighs again, and you just know he’s got the fingers of his free hand pressed to his brow. “I swear, you’re just as bad as Ellie—neither of you seems to understand what a fuckin’ surprise is.” He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “Now,” he says calmly, “I don’t know why you’re purposely pushin’ my buttons—”
“You ate the last of the ice cream last night,” you interrupt. “The ice cream I worked hard to make that I was excited to eat as a late-night snack.”
“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me—how many times do I have to apologize? I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were savin’ it, and had I known, I wouldn’t have eaten it. Will you please forgive me?”
“Did I annoy you enough that the thought crossed your mind to take us back home?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t because you love me so much you’ll put up with my shit?”
“Yes.”
“Then I forgive you. Can I ask a question that has nothing to do with the distance we are from the surprise?”
He lets out a relieved breath, and his tone softens. “Of course, honey.”
Without fail, every time he calls you a sweet endearment, you melt a little, feeling so soft you might turn into a puddle.
You’re smiling. “What made you choose today to surprise me? It’s kinda random that it’s a Thursday, and you didn’t wait for the weekend when we’re usually off.” You taught at the school, and Joel did whatever he was assigned each day; lately, it’s been a lot of patrolling.
“Do you know what today’s date is?”
The question makes you think because you do know the date, and it’s not your, his, or Ellie’s birthday; it’s not a holiday that you’re aware of, either, and frankly, you’re not quite sure what the significance is.
“I do, but what’s so special about it?”
“What were you doin’ last year around this time?”
“Um, what was I doing? Wait, it’s around when I moved to Jackson.”
“That’s right, and who’d you meet a little after you arrived?”
“A lot of people.”
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes in exasperation. “Baby, when did you meet me?”
“Like two, three days after I moved into the house across the street from you.”
“And what happened when we met?”
The memory makes you smirk. “I seduced you—my sexy, way older, single dad neighbor.”
“That’s true—I was gone on you from the moment you batted those pretty eyes at me, and who were you romantically involved with from that day forward?”
Your eyebrows furrow. “You.”
“Was there anyone else?” It’s a harmless question he knows the answer to and is honestly humorous even to be asked.
You snort. “Why would I have wanted to be with anyone else when I had you? No, of course not, and you were very clear that I was yours and only yours, even if nobody else knew for quite some time.”
Your relationship with him was a secret for many months because he didn’t want Ellie to know—he was worried she wouldn’t take it well, but she ended up being completely fine with it and had figured out the two of you were a thing, pretty much from the beginning.
“So, it’s a year from the day you became mine,” he says, “why would I be takin’ you somewhere special?”
The realization slams into so hard you gasp.
“Are we celebrating the anniversary of when we first met?!”
It’s clear in his voice he’s smiling. “We are—I know we did things ass-backward, and I wish I could’ve courted you properly from the beginnin’, but I consider that first time we met as the start of our unconventional relationship.”
Warmth is spreading through your body at how sweet this is.
“Oh my god, Joel—if I could, I’d kiss you right now!”
“Well, you’re in luck, my love, ‘cause we’re finally here.” Your horse comes to a stop, the animal snorting as its front hooves shuffle in place. “You can look.”
You lower the bandana, and your eyes widen at what’s in front of you: it’s a meadow of colorful wildflowers—the lush green grass overshadowed by the yellows, pinks, purples, whites, and blues blooming thickly everywhere, tall pine trees lining the edges, and snow-capped mountains towering high off in the distance.
You’ve never seen anything so beautiful, and it takes your breath away.
There’s movement out of the corner of your eye of Joel getting off his horse, and you’re too focused on taking in all of the scenery, seeing butterflies fluttering around and birds gliding through the air.
“Well?” he asks, and you jolt at his voice coming from the opposite side of where he was initially. “Sorry for spookin’ ya, baby.” He rubs a hand along your jean-covered thigh, and your head tilts down his way. Joel’s eyes look hopeful, and a small smile is on his lips—he’s wearing a red flannel and has a rifle on his back, the light breeze causing some of his gray strands of hair to dance atop his head. “What do you think?” he asks.
Your answer is to get off the horse, Joel’s hands immediately grabbing onto your waist to steady you as you swing your leg over the back of the animal, one foot landing on the ground, then the other—you spin around, throwing your arms around his neck, and crush your lips to his, swallowing his surprised sound. He’s automatically hugging you to him, and you never feel safer than when he holds you, knowing without a doubt he won’t let anything happen to you and will protect you with everything he has; you’d do the same for him and Ellie, the two most important people in your life.
When you break apart, your breaths come out a little heavier, and with the way he’s gazing into your eyes, you can clearly see his love for you shining through.
His hand caresses your cheek. “A good surprise?” he asks.
Your mouth is grinning as you nod. “The best surprise and worth an hour in the dark.” You hold his face as you lean in, placing loud, smacking kisses over his stubbled cheeks, along his jaw, on his chin, and lips. Joel chuckles at your enthusiasm, and you end with a peck to the tip of his nose.
“There’s more,” he says.
Your eyes go big. “What do you mean there’s more?”
“Let me tie up the horses, and I’ll show you.”
He moves away to do as he said, using ropes to tie around each of their two front legs to hobble them and keep them in place, allowing them to graze.
Joel isn’t kidding about there being more: he removes a blanket roll from his saddle that he spreads out on a patch of grass, and from his backpack, he takes out containers with strawberries, apples, cheese, some smoked meat and to drink, a bottle of apple juice made in Jackson.
He sits on the blanket, his long legs out in front of him, the food on one side of him, his rifle, and your shotgun that’d been holstered in a scabbard attached to your saddle within reach on the ground. He makes you giggle as he pulls you down into his lap, sitting sideways across it, his arms wrapping around your middle, while your hands go into the hair at the back of his head, his eyes locked on yours.
Something hard is poking you in the ass. “Is that a flashlight in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” you ask with a wag of your eyebrows.
Joel huffs out an amused breath as he gets his hand under you and pulls his sheathed hunting knife off of his belt, tossing it next to the rifle and shotgun.
“Better?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes.” You kiss his cheek. “Much better—thank you.” You stare at his handsome face and brush his messy bangs off his forehead—Joel grabs your hand, keeping his gaze on yours as he kisses the skin on the inside of your wrist, leaving behind tingles where his lips touch.
“If Ellie knew how secretly romantic you are,” you say, “she’d give you even more shit than she already does.”
His eyes roll, and he holds your smaller hand in his bigger one, pressing it to his heart.
“Wanna know a secret?” he asks.
“Always.”
“She avoids teasin’ me about our relationship and how I am with you—I mean, if she sees us kiss, she’ll pretend to get sick, but that’s just how teenagers are.” He shrugs. “She slips up every once in a while, and that’s expected; I think her tryin’ her best not to shit on my happiness is her sweet way of bein’ supportive.” He’s smiling fondly. “She’s the one who suggested a picnic.”
Your face matches his. “You discussed your secret anniversary plans with her?”
“Yes.” He nods. “'cause Tommy’s idea of celebratin’ was stayin’ in bed all day naked, and it made me wonder for the millionth time why the fuck Maria married his ass.”
You laugh. “And that’s pretty much a regular Saturday for us when Ellie stays at Cat’s—” Her girlfriend’s. “—for the weekend.”
He’s got an arm around your back and lets go of your hand, reaching to pluck a dandelion from the grass at the edge of the blanket.
“Exactly,” he says, “needed to do somethin’ special, and I found this place a few weeks ago while on patrol and knew you’d love it.” His eyes squint a little as his attention turns to what’s in front of him.
“I do, I love it so much.” You look around at the flowers, trees, and mountains. “It’s so beautiful!”
“Yeah, it is.” You face him again, finding his gaze already on you.
He does this often, where when you seek him out—be it at the crowded bar on a Friday night, the busy mess hall at breakfast before work, while you’re cuddled on the couch watching a movie—he’s already looking at you before your eyes land on his. It’s like you’re the only thing that exists, and you find it both lovely and insane that he loves you that much.
The other person who steals his attention is Ellie—she’s his whole world, and that’s how it should be; she’s his kid, and if Joel’s one thing, he’s a fantastic father who loves his children more than anything.
“You’ve ruined me for anyone else, Joel Miller,” you tell him, clutching his shirt with your left hand. “I love you, I love your daughter, I love the life we have, and I’m sorry, but you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life—you’re mine, and I’ll fight anyone or anything that tries to take you from me.”
“Yeah?” He takes your hand from his shirt and presses your palms together between you, making your own look so tiny with how much longer and thicker his fingers are. “Well,” he starts, your eyes closing when he leans in to nudge his nose against yours, “you’ve sure ruined me for anyone else, too, and you’re it for me—I love you, I love that you really do care about my kid, and how you make our lives better,” he rasps softly. “No one else can have you ‘cause you belong to me as I belong to you, so I see this only goin’ one way.”
“And where’s that?” you whisper.
His hand leaves yours for a moment.
“With you marryin’ me,” he says and slips something onto your ring finger—your eyes fly open seeing he’s tied the dandelion stem to make a loop your finger can fit through, the vibrant yellow flower a pretty substitute for a real diamond ring that are hard to find these days; this is Joel doing something how it was done when he was younger because, to him, it’s the right way, even though nowadays engagements are simply a verbal agreement rarely accompanied by jewelry. Or this is Joel just being romantically old-fashioned; you love it when he’s romantically old-fashioned.
Your cheeks are hurting from smiling so big, and tears are brimming in your eyes.
“If you’ll have me, of course,” he adds, and you look at him. “I know I’ve been alive a long fuckin’ time and that you can do better than someone as old as me, but I promise I’ll give you my everythin’ and the best life I can because you’re the one I wanna spend whatever time I have left breathin’ with.” The truth is evident in his chocolate-colored gaze, seeing the glimmer of hope in the dark pools. “As long as it’s somethin’ you’d want. It’s fine if you prefer we keep doin’ things as we have been without you takin’ my last name—I’m lucky enough that you like me.”
“Ask me,” you say.
His eyebrows pull together. “Ask you what…?”
“To marry you—in all the sweet things you said, you didn’t ask the question.”
His cheeks pink up, and he scratches the back of his neck. “That’s fuckin’ embarrassin’. Not much of a proposal if you don’t ask the question—sorry—let me try this again.” He clears his throat and takes your hand, being careful of the dandelion ring, his eyes seeming to get bigger. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” you answer immediately, and he rewards you with a smile big enough for his very seldom-seen dimple to make an appearance.
Then his large palms are cradling your face, and he’s kissing you like he’s just come home after being away for a while, and can’t believe he’s finally feeling your lips against his once more—he’s savoring every second and being so thorough it makes you go dizzy, your skin heating beneath your clothes.
This is one of those unforgettable kisses that will make you swoon each time it comes to mind in the years to come.
And this man asked you to marry him.
Settling down in Jackson was the best decision you’ve ever made.
but I would die for you in secret - Masterlist
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#Pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller/reader#Joel miller/you#joel miller x reader#wheresarizona writes
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Castaways (Part 1)
AN: Before I get into the notes for this - I want to say a quick thank you to everyone who took the time to send me a message / comment on my post, it meant a lot to me. 💜💜💜 As for this story, I started writing it in Sept of 2022, after watching the Harrison Ford movie, Six Days, Seven Nights lol. I had a lot of it down pretty quickly but eventually, I stopped. Now that new ideas aren't as bountiful as they once were, I started combing through all of the half-finished works in my docs and I fell back in love with this one. Hopefully you enjoy it. I have an ending planned out so there will definitely be a part 2! Shout out to @wheresarizona for betaing and just general wonderfulness, to @just-here-for-the-moment for screaming at me through comments in this doc. Enjoy xox.
Pairing; Frankie Morales x f!reader (Princess as a nickname)
Warnings; C o m p e t e n c y - a very brief snake…encounter?-piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, Frankie eats pussy with gusto (when doesn't he), creampie, longing, yearning, a helicopter crash (nothing too graphic), reader is spoiled at first and generally kind of snobby- enemies to lovers? Bit of a slow burn! let me know if I missed anything.
Word count; 13k 😅
reblogs are appreciated
Masterlist
The click of your heels sounded throughout the airy hangar with a purpose, the echoing sound of it heralding your journey to give someone—anyone hell.
A quick flick of your wrist reminds you how late you already were for the retreat booked in your private slice of paradise; the private jet your father paid a fortune for had made an emergency stop in Puerto Rico- some nonsense about a storm.
Unacceptable.
An imperious sigh leaves your mouth -not a single person to lay into anywhere in sight, and it leaves you no choice but to head outside to see if there is a plane you could commandeer.
—
He wipes the grease onto the legs of his well-worn work coveralls, his previous scowl gone and replaced with a triumphant smile - finally got that fucking bolt off-
“Excuse me-” He turns toward the sound and is greeted by a very annoyed-looking woman. “Hi, do you know where I can find a pilot? There’s no one in the hangar.” She drags a very expensive-looking suitcase behind her with one hand, the other holding a ridiculously large hat onto her head.
“Hi, yes I’m a pilot - most of the staff have gone home, a big storm coming soon-”
“Perfect, can I hire you to fly me to this island?” Her fingers flew across the no-doubt latest model of smartphone in her hands - ignoring the shocked expression on his face at being so rudely interrupted. “This one here, I need to be there like three hours ago, and I would be there now if we hadn’t stopped here - you know where this is, right? Can you take me?” She all but shoves the phone into his face.
“No.” He carefully moves her manicured hand away from his face, and a tiny, cruel little part of him enjoys the shock in her expression - he very quickly gets the impression that this girl is not used to hearing the word. “As I was saying - everyone has gone home, a lot of people were grounded here, myself included. There is a big thunderstorm coming. Not safe to fly until it passes. Shouldn’t last too long - a quick squall - come back tomorrow, and I’ll happily fly you there.” He then turns to continue his work.
“Money is no object, but I need to leave now,” she says it through a huffed breath, and his eyebrows raise.
“And yet, my answer is still no.” He’s annoyed now. In truth, it was a fairly quick flight - he knew the island she’d shown him, had made the trip before, and it would be less than an hour, but her attitude was a black mark against her. Her phone trills then, a cheery tone, momentarily snatching her attention from him.
“Hi, Dad, yeah, I know. I’m at the hangar, looking for a ride.” She taps her foot, and it sets his teeth on edge. “There is a pilot here, but he says he won’t fly me.” She narrows her eyes at him when he turns to look at her, listening to the other half of the conversation he wasn’t privy to. “I’ll tell him- Sorry-” She inspects his name tag, “Francisco, my father says if you get me to the island within the hour, he’ll make it worth your while. Name your price.”
“I don’t know what part of it isn’t safe isn’t registering-” She raises her voice and speaks over him.
“He’ll pay you ten thousand dollars.” Her tone is loud but bored. “Besides - the skies are gorgeous - I’m sure we can make it before anything happens.” She waits a moment, “Plus another five grand when you land. And you can have accommodations until tomorrow - room service, the works. Just please - get me there.” Her eyes are hopeful, and for a brief moment, he acknowledges how pretty she is, or - would be, if she wasn’t such an insufferable princess.
He knew he should have said no. Knew he should have turned her down and followed the guidelines, but that kind of money would change his life. Change their lives- it would have been insane for him to turn it down.
“Fine.” He relents, shoving down the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “I’ll be your pilot. We’ll be out of here in ten minutes.” She almost jumps with joy, and he can’t hide the annoyed expression on his face.
“Done - okay, I’ll be there soon, Dad! Bye.”
-
He was covered in grease.
You had to remind yourself not to wrinkle your nose at him. You supposed he could be handsome, in a scruffy, working man way, but that's beside the point. He was your saving grace right now, and that counted for a lot.
He fiddles with the engine of the helicopter for a moment more while he leaves you to wrestle your suitcase in by yourself, thankfully without breaking a nail.
“Alright - just going to perform a couple of checks, and we’ll be in the air.” He got in and began flicking switches, turning knobs, and checking over all manner of gauges while you made yourself as comfortable as was possible in the cramped little aircraft. It was hard, though, with your suitcase practically digging into your back behind you.
It’s fine. I’ll just have to get a massage once I land.
“Okay, we’re off.” He has his headset on, and you are in the air within a few moments. That, unfortunately, seemed to be the end of your good luck.
Whether by some cruel design, by the fates or gods, or whatever entity dictated the events of your life - it didn’t take twenty minutes in the air for the sky to turn a foreboding gray.
“That doesn’t look good,” he says, the words loud enough to be heard over the noise, his eyes quickly scanning the horizon, no doubt taking in the dark clouds flanking either side of the already rickety helicopter.
“It came out of nowhere.” One minute, the sky was blue, and the next, lightning forked the sky in the distance.
“No, it didn’t - I told you a storm was coming. This is too dangerous - I’m going to have to turn around for our safety.” He maneuvers the controls, and you have no choice but to agree despite your annoyance.
It all happened so fast.
Something strikes the aircraft, the sound of it booming in your ears so loud it hurts, and then he’s frantic. Manically pressing buttons and calling through the radio, but from the frustrated and frankly terrified expression, no one is answering.
“Fuck, tighten your seatbelt, we’re going down!” He grits his teeth, and all of a sudden, you are spinning, a scream being ripped from your throat - your heart falling out of your ass. “Impact coming - brace yourself!” he screams before the world goes black.
-
Someone is making noise, a low groaning noise that pulls him out from the depths of unconsciousness, he’s only mildly surprised to realize it is him.
The helicopter - his helicopter wasn’t making any noise, which was bad.
Under normal circumstances, it would be broadcasting out a signal beacon that would bring in a rescue team, but as it stood right now - without blinking lights or a working radio - it had gone completely silent.
Lighting must have fried it. Fuck.
He took stock of his situation. Luckily, he doesn’t feel any injuries aside from horrible whiplash. No blood, no broken bones. A softer groan comes from the woman beside him; she’s still out, and he couldn’t see any injuries- he’d know when she woke up.
I could kill you right now.
He thought the words, sighing loudly to himself before finding a way out of the cockpit. He’d managed to move most of what he had in the helicopter out onto the sand by the time she woke.
“Jesus Christ - what the hell happened?” She stumbles out, barely managing to stop herself from eating shit in the process, unfortunately.
“What happened is the storm I warned you about many times caught us in the air and grounded us here.” He’s laying out his supplies, lengths of rope, his toolbox, and empty water jugs. He has a small case with a flare gun, an emergency kit filled with first aid supplies, and a massive tarp. There are a few more things to go through, but it is important they find a source of freshwater soon, or they won’t last two days, especially with the heat making his clothes stick to his body.
She sighs loudly, struggling to make her way through the sand in those ridiculous heels she’s wearing
“And now we’re stuck here, on an island when, where I should be, is home with my-“
“Can’t you call mayday or something? My father is expecting me. I’m sure he’ll have an army looking for us.” She’s digging through her purse frantically, ignoring the scathing look he’s giving her.
Spoiled little brat, you only care about yourself, huh?
“Wow. You know what? That’s a great idea! Why the hell didn’t I think of that?” He can’t hold back. “Oh! I know, it’s because we were struck by lightning, and it fried everything, so whatever army your father sends won’t find us -there is no signal to hone in on.” He scowls at her, annoyed that she isn’t paying attention to him even now. “Doesn’t help that a lot of these islands that are usually full of tourists are uninhabited after the hurricane that hit a few months ago.”
“So we’re stuck here???” Her eyes are wild as they look past him, to the beach just beyond, and then to the thick greenery behind them. “This cannot be happening right now,” she spoke to herself.
“Where the fuck is my phone??” She moves and makes her way back into the cockpit, all but ripping the aircraft apart before- “Fuck! You have got to be fucking kidding me! Don’t you have some kind of satellite phone or something??” She’s tapping at the deeply damaged screen, it completely destroyed.
He couldn’t help but bark out cruel laughter.
“I don’t know what planet you’re on. People - regular people don’t just have satellite phones, sweetheart.” He got up from his place in the sand, making sure to put the flares back in the helicopter.
“Great. Just great.” She sighs loudly, “So we’re stuck here. Do you even know where here is?” She fishes into her bag once more, pulling out a bottle of what looks to be sunscreen, and squeezing out some to spread over her exposed skin.
“No. I don’t, but the heat is going to kill us if we don’t find water soon. Grab one of those jugs, and let’s go find water. You might want to change your shoes.” He pushes her suitcase at her, ignoring the shocked look on her face. “Chop chop, princess, let’s move.”
-
This couldn’t be happening, this could not be happening!
Right now, you should have been mingling with Louis, the gorgeous, billionaire bachelor your father invited to your private resort. You could almost picture it, the classy yet sexy outfit you’d be wearing while you flirted over a drink by the infinity pool. Broadening your horizons and nailing down the rich husband you deserve.
Instead, you’re here - stuck in the sand with the world's grumpiest pilot, trying desperately to get your phone to work, but it’s no use.
You can almost see the frantic look on your mother's face now that it was obvious that you hadn’t made it at the scheduled time, she and your father were probably coordinating with the military right this second, with the Navy.
What the fuck am I going to do-
The jug hits your lap, scaring you half to death.
“Come on, princess, let’s get moving. We have to find fresh water before we die of dehydration out here.” He’s standing a few feet away, staring at you with his perpetual scowl. “Change your shoes, and let’s go.”
“What’s wrong with my shoes?” They were pretty sensible as far as your sandals went, respectable heels, and relatively comfortable. His scowl deepens.
“You cannot stumble around the island in those, you’ll break an ankle, and I am not fucking dealing with that.” His eyes narrow. “Tell me you brought a pair of runners in that giant trunk.”
“Of course I did,” your tone is icy as you get up with a huff. You quickly changed into them, and then you were off.
The terrain got more and more treacherous the further you got from the powdery white sand of the beach. Dirt and bramble gave way to thick, almost jungle-like vegetation, making the trek harder and harder as time slogged by.
The sound of running water greets the two of you like a siren song, spurring your tired, sweat-soaked body to move quicker, and the sight that meets you once you break the dense treeline could've made you moan. You jump into the water to cool your heated skin, ignoring the warning from Francisco.
“You should get out of there.” He’s at the edge of the clearish water, filling the jugs quickly.
He seems to be determined to infuse his sour attitude into everything, your mouth opened to tell him to relax when something brushes past your leg. At first, you think it might be a piece of underwater flora, but it becomes apparent very quickly that it’s something far worse.
“Francisco.” His eyes met yours, “Francisco, something just swam into my shorts, I-I think it’s a snake.” Your voice trembles slightly, hands itching to pull whatever it was out, but his voice cuts through the urge.
“Don’t move- are you sure it’s a snake?” He put the jugs down beside him, moving closer to you, descending slowly into the water.
“Yes, It’s coiling around my thigh, moving up - I need it out right now, I wanna just grab it-“ Your head tilts down, but he stops you.
“Don’t move! It could be venomous.” He wades into the water towards you slowly, too slowly. Your heart’s racing, hands shaking as you wait for him to reach you.
“Help me, get it out, get it out!” your voice is almost manic, desperation colouring every single inch of you.
“Okay, okay, calm - deep breath.” You followed his example as best you could, trying yet failing to ignore the slithering against your skin. “Slowly pull your waistband away from your body, and I’ll see if I can grab it,” his tone had lowered, a soothing timbre reminding you for a moment of how a teacher would speak to a student.
It helps.
You did as he asked, pulling at the waistband of your shorts, all thoughts of propriety forgotten, and within a moment, his hand was shoved down deep - a rather large hand fighting with whatever it was that had made camp in your pants.
He bit his lip in concentration, bodily pulling you towards him as he struggled. A moment later, he was raising it up triumphantly.
A huge shiver went down your spine at the sight of it, spurring you to get out of the water as fast as humanly possible.
“Jesus Christ, it’s just one fucking thing after another,” you spoke as you made it out without incident, ignoring the huge sigh he let out behind you. “Thank you for that.” He was following closely behind you, not interested, it seemed, in having a similar experience.
“Don’t mention it. Let's fill these and get back to the beach.” He hands you a couple of empty jugs, and you reluctantly got to work.
-
All things considered, they were lucky. Frankie knew that. His helicopter - albeit small - was surprisingly well-equipped to handle being stranded. He had an emergency survival kit, purchased partly under the insistence of his mother but mostly so he never had to relive what had happened to him a few years ago. He’d tried not to think about it, but walking through the foliage back to the crash site had brought it all back. Vividly.
He pushed it away, shoved it down deep where he kept the rest of his issues - instead choosing to focus on what they needed to do. They needed some form of shelter, and soon.
“I am sweltering,” her voice was low behind him, whiny with the distinct tone of someone who had never truly been uncomfortable a day in her life. “Fucking starving.”
“Most likely, you’re dehydrated. Once we get back to the beach, we can figure out the water,” he spoke over his shoulder. “Have to make camp if we’re going to be here for a while.” They broke through the treeline, seeing his helicopter on the beach like a pile of old bones broke his heart a little - his only connection to home, to his little girl. He pushes it all away again.
“So how do we get this water drinkable?” she huffs out the words, dropping the jugs next to his laid-out supplies with great effort.
“We have to set up a purifying system, filter it, and then boil it.” He crouches down towards his supplies, looking for something clean he could use as a sieve. Luckily, he always kept an overnight bag with him, in case of being grounded somewhere, but he only had three shirts in there, he couldn’t burn one since he didn’t know exactly how long they’d be stuck there.
“I don’t have much in terms of clothes - you got anything we could use?” He looks up at her, “Something simple, a cotton t-shirt? Something we could use to strain the water.” He walks towards her trunk, waiting for her to open it up.
She opens it reluctantly, rifling through her things for a moment before handing over a simple white shirt. “Any chance I’ll be able to wear that again?” her voice is vaguely annoyed.
“I’m sure Daddy won’t mind buying you a new one.” She gives him an expression that could curdle milk. He ignores it. Instead, he busies himself, setting the jugs of water somewhere relatively level. He felt her eyes on him, and it compelled him to explain what he did as he worked. “We have to let the water settle for about an hour, let the sediment sink to the bottom, then strain it, then boil it.” Not for the first time in his life, he was happy to have his military gear within reach.
-
He works fast - you have to give him that.
As much as he grumbles and looks at you like you are the devil incarnate - you couldn’t deny that he was incredibly intelligent. Within a few hours of getting back to the camp, he had built an impressive fire, filtered the jugs of water, and had boiled most of it.
“Tomorrow, we’ll get to work building some sort of shelter,” he spoke after he finally sat down, the first break he’d taken all day. “Have to go about looking for food too, I saw some fruit trees - we’ll grab them on the way back from getting more water.” His eyes are heavy, you can see it in the way he blinked slower and slower.
“We have to make that trek again?” your voice is shrill, he sighs loudly.
“We’ll have to make that trek every single day until we’re rescued. Water is the most important thing. No delivery service here, princess,” his voice is sleepy, the usual bite in his words softened by the need for sleep.
“How will anyone find us?” The worry is evident in your voice.
“I have a flare gun and three flares - we’ll be able to signal someone. Go to bed, we have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” He gestures to the helicopter–lovely, this will be comfortable.
—
The knock on the helicopter window ripped you out of sleep, your heart racing as you clutched at your chest.
“Wake up, princess.” He taps on the glass and through bleary eyes, you take note of the smile on his face as he wakes you up, “We have work to do.” He taps one last time and then leaves you.
You flash him the middle finger as he turns and laughs, annoying you even more.
You join him on the beach a little later, ignoring the ache in your body from sleeping in a half seated position. God I really need that massage.
“I’m going to make the trek for more water, while I do that you are going to gather palm fronds.” He had a jug in his hand as he moved towards the treeline. For a moment you panicked, the thought of being alone causing your heart to sink.
“Wait, you’re leaving me alone?” You moved a few steps towards him, catching yourself before making it to him. “I mean–um,” You raised your chin at the surprised look on his face, ignoring it. “How many fronds?” There was an abundance of them, both on the ground and in the trees just beyond the sand. He paused, giving you a curious look.
“As many as you can, we’ll need way more than you think.” He turned then, and left you to it.
Time crawled by while you were alone, with only your thoughts and the sound of waves to accompany you. Sweat dripped down your brow as you gathered, gathered and gathered some more. Enough fronds that it made a huge pile beside the fire pit Francisco had made. Your stomach growling almost constantly now–the hunger so intense it was making you light headed.
Branches snapped, drawing your gaze towards his form. He had the jug in one hand and a stalk of bananas in the other. It was enough to make you moan.
“This is good, but it’s not enough. We have to gather more - have to cut down a bunch of bamboo too.” He put the jug next to the others before joining you where you sat. “Here, you must be starving.” He ripped off a handful of the glorious fruit and tossed them into your lap.
Nothing had ever tasted so good.
“Jesus Christ, I thought I would pass out.” You knew you had fruit on your face, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. “Thank you.” You peeled another, eating it just as quickly as the first.
“Don’t mention it. Okay, let's get to work.”
-
Your fingers were sore, your back was sore, every single part of you was sore. Hours crawled by with the sun beating down on you both as you weaved fronds together. He had you create sheets and sheets of it, had you help him cut down enough bamboo to build a house. He did the heavy lifting and made what looked like a crude rope tying together the bamboo in layers strong enough to hold both of you.
Wordlessly, he worked, the sweat dripping down his face, soaking through his shirt like a marathon runner until it was a hindrance and he took it off, used it as a rag that hung limp over his shoulders. This was much worse than a marathon, though, much worse than any workout you’d ever done in your life, and although you’d never say it out loud, you were incredibly thankful he was here.
I probably would have died by now.
It was a terrifying thought that without him, you wouldn’t survive - you shoved it away. It wouldn’t matter soon because your parents would be looking, and they wouldn’t stop until they found you.
“Come lay on this, I want to see if it’ll hold both of us.” He stood over the platform, laying on it as you came closer. It held. “Perfect. We’ll be elevated off the sand, less chance of bugs or crabs biting us, and it’ll be cooler than the helicopter.” He let out a weary, tired sigh.
“You’re expecting us both to sleep on this?” You couldn’t help your tone, and instantly you felt bad. He’d worked very hard on this. His brow furrowed.
“You’re welcome to sleep where you want. I’ll be on this.” He got up, his scowl now back in place, “I’m going to finish here and then go fishing. Keep weaving.”
Quietly, you got back to work.
-
In all his years, Francisco had never met someone so spoiled and self-serving - even though he’d expected it from her, it still hurt. He didn’t know why - why it would matter that some spoiled rich brat was acting like a spoiled rich brat; maybe it was the lack of gratitude. He was useful, he was smart and he had skills that he knew for a fact she’d die without.
He stewed over it as he swam towards a large boulder protruding out of the water near the shore. A perfect spot to catch the fish that swam around in the reef below the surface.
I should let her starve. Find her own food and her own water.
He wouldn’t, though, he couldn’t. All his life, he’d been taught to be a good person, to help where he could and after what had happened in that jungle - he shook it off, pushed it down. Ignored the cruel, petty voice in his head and set about catching something to eat. All the while keeping an eye on the horizon for a boat - for any sign that people were looking for him. That his people were looking for him.
He let himself think about them, really think about them for the first time since the crash. His parents, his little girl, let himself feel the emptiness of being without them. He let the waves of it crash over him just as the ocean around him crashed into the shore, and then he put it away.
She was still working when he came back with his catch, her face scrunched up in concentration - ignoring her, he went about doing what needed to be done.
“Is this enough?” Her voice cut through his concentration, and he nodded noncommittally - leaving the prepped fish on a relatively clean piece of driftwood he’d found.
“Hold this.” He stood at the corner of the raised bed and had her hold a tall, sturdy piece of bamboo. His plan was to make a small frame around the base, use the tarp in order to waterproof it, and lay the fronds all around to protect them from the winds that blew through here in bad weather.
She watched him work in silence, standing where he told her to stand, holding what he told her to hold and eventually, finally - they finished. It was as solid a structure as he could manage without planks of wood or nails, strong enough to survive against a moderate storm and to keep them off the sand.
He’d used the tarp to cover the roof and three sides, leaving one open for them - him to enter. On top were rows of fronds to catch rainwater and prevent it from pooling in the tarp, the rest of the unused woven sheets she’d made laid inside to use as bedding. With the emergency blanket and his military bedroll this would make a decent bed.
All in all, he was proud of himself, he took the raw materials he’d found on this island, and fashioned himself – themselves a shelter.
His stomach growled. It was time to start that fire.
-
Your stomach was screaming out in hunger. The bananas had been wonderful, but they weren’t enough.
“Are you sure that’s safe to eat?” You watched him wrap the fish in banana leaves and put it into red hot embers; you couldn’t help but be slightly dubious about eating something he’d just pulled out of the ocean. He sighed loudly before answering.
“You don’t have to eat it,” he sounded tired, and you supposed he must have been with how hard he’d worked. “It’s edible. I’ve caught this fish before.” He wiped at his brow with the shirt around his shoulders, his skin slightly pink from the sun.
You didn’t say anything, still unsure, but when the time came for him to unwrap the blackened leaves, your stomach growled loudly. It looked very good.
He didn’t offer any, instead, he snatched a piece of the steaming, flaky fish and popped it into his mouth, relishing the taste with a loud groan and a big smile. A nice smile, in truth.
“Maybe I’ll try a little bit.” You scooted closer to where he sat in the sand, unable to resist it.
“Here, careful - it’s very hot.” He tore a piece of a fresh banana leaf and gave you a decently sized filet, and with singed fingers and zero patience, you took a bite.
It was, without a doubt, the most delicious thing you’d ever eaten.
“Good?” He ate quickly, his expression amused at your very obvious enjoyment of the ‘dubious’ fish.
“It’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever had.” You meant every word, and licked every last morsel off your fingers.
It was incredibly dark by the time the food was eaten, and the fire had died out. Francisco was attaching a piece of netting to the open side, and once he was done, he climbed in without another word.
The helicopter felt safe, enclosed and a space you could lock, but the shelter would have airflow. It would be infinitely cooler to sleep in. You knew that, eventually that helicopter would turn into a greenhouse that felt more like an oven. Not to mention how horrible it was to sleep sitting up.
Every second that passed made the shelter look more and more appealing, and after quickly changing into clean clothes, you slipped in silently, but it didn’t even matter, he was already asleep.
—
He woke to the feeling of soft breath on his back, the air was significantly cooler than it had been during midday, and now, in the early dawn of the morning she was seeking him out for warmth. It was in him to pull away, to deny her, but instead, he stayed motionless. Let her even breath comfort him for a few moments before he eventually rose to bathe in the ocean. Her hand was draped around his middle, pressing herself flat to him while she slept, completely oblivious.
He thought about how scandalized she’d be to know she was being so intimate with him; it almost made him laugh, but soon, that internalized mirth shifted to something bitter, something close to anger. He was only too aware that when she looked at him, she saw ‘the help’; someone like her could never see him as anything other than someone else to pay off, the person hired to do things below her. She shifted in her sleep, burrowing closer, her soft puffs of air ruffling the hair curling at the base of his skull.
Why does that bother me? I don’t even care about this person.
He sighed, confused with himself over these baffling feelings of inadequacy, frustrated that being close to another person felt good. Annoyed that he didn’t want to pull away - no matter how much of a brat she was. If she woke now and saw them tangled, she’d be embarrassed, perhaps even disgusted, he knew this for a certainty. So he left her.
-
Dawn found you almost frustratingly well-rested, as well as alone. All doubts that may have lingered about the craftsmanship of the shelter evaporated like the morning dew. A long, much-needed stretch is the catalyst that moves you out of the shelter, making sure to close the netting on your way to grab your toiletry bag when he catches your eye from his place in the water. The early morning sun lit up the surface like diamonds. He was running his hands through his hair, wringing out the shirt he’d been wearing the day before. His skin was golden, the high planes of his face kissed by the sun's rays, his shoulders too. You watched him for a time, unable to ignore the breadth of his shoulders - the pleasant sight of his thighs and it was hard not to stare at him when he rose out of the water, the droplets from his golden skin casting a sort of spell on their way back down to earth.
His hands were something else altogether, weaving their own magic the closer he came to shore, from the way they wrung out the shirt easily to the way they adjusted his considerable bulge as he walked, and you looked away quickly, ignoring the curious heat crawling up your chest.
He found you brushing your teeth, pointedly looking away.
“I’m going to go look for more fruit.” He spoke as he put the wrung-out shirt to dry next to some of the other things he’d washed before changing out of his wet boxers behind the cover of the helicopter. “You should gather more firewood, things to burn for tonight.” When he came back around, he was dressed in a clean white tee and a pair of shorts. Looking for all the world like a man on vacation.
“I’m coming with you.” You rose from your place in the sand quickly, shuffling to reach him before he left you. “I’d rather not wait around.”
“Fine, come on then.” With that, you both set off into the trees.
The morning was full of birdsong and sunlight, bright buttery shafts of it cutting through the trees while the former echoed around you.
“This would be a gorgeous place to vacation.” He echoed your thoughts as you followed a faint path in the brush.
“I guess, would need a vast improvement.” Like a hotel, and an actual landing strip maybe. He laughed low, his eyes looking high into the trees.
“I don’t know, I don’t mind it being a bit rustic.” He pointed ahead, a few coconut trees catching his attention.
“This is more than a bit rustic I’d say. God I can’t wait until my parents find me. I should be by the pool right now, mingling with Louis.” Your palm smacks against the first of surely many bites rising on your skin.
“That your boyfriend?” He’s serious now, scooping a couple of coconuts from the floor and dropping them into your arms.
“No, but he should be. He’s an insanely wealthy man my father invited to our private island, where I should be right now.” You sighed loudly, annoyed at the situation all over again. “Soon. Soon, I will be back where I belong. God, my mother is probably worried sick, you know?” You stood there, holding onto the coconuts he stacked in your arms before moving on to find more fruit.
“Sure.” He all but grunts, moving carefully through the brush. “I get it-“
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the military is out searching for me right now.” An image of handsome Louis frantically joining the search with your parents makes your stomach flip.
I wonder if he is worried about me?
“Focus.” His voice rips you out of your daydream. “Let’s grab some more bananas, and head back.” He seems annoyed - he’s always annoyed.
“I hate this.” Your arms ache from holding the heavy coconuts. “Shouldn’t we be building a signal fire or something?” You can hear the whining tone, but you can’t stop it. Must everything be so hard?
“And just what are we meant to signal? Seen a bunch of planes, have you?” His tone is icy, his expression angry. “Cruise ships sailing by us every hour?” He finds a banana tree and cuts down a stalk, his movements aggressive.
“Well no-“
“Exactly. We’re on our own, which means until the military or whoever is looking for you finds this island- we have to work.” He props the bananas against his shoulder and turns back towards the camp, pointedly ignoring the way you struggle to keep up with him.
-
You’re already covered in sweat by the time you make it back to camp, breathing hard and soaking through your clothes.
“Jesus Christ, I cannot with these things.” You dump the coconuts next to the water jugs, shaking out your aching limbs. He sets the bananas next to them before moving to grab some firewood from the tree line. Your eyes scan the beach, the waves gently lapping at the shore; it would be pretty enough without the eye sore that is the helicopter.
“I cannot wait to be away from this hunk of junk.” His movements stop at your words.
“That hunk of junk was my entire fucking livelihood. I don’t have a rich daddy to just buy me a new one.” He tosses the wood pieces angrily into the pit, ignoring the recoil his tone inspired. “Not everyone has it so easy, princess.”
“No, I guess they don’t, sorry-“ he spoke over you.
“Forget it.” He let out a sigh. “Let’s just do what we can to survive until someone finds us.” His expression was cold, and you can’t help the guilt that blooms in the pit of your stomach.
“Sounds good.” The rest of the day passed by in silence.
—
The days both fly, and crawl by and Frankie works each and every one of them. He works to find them food, he works to reinforce their shelter - to make them as comfortable as he possibly can, all while trying his hardest not to lose his mind. The picture of his little girl burned a hole in his heart when he looked at it each night. He only hoped she knew he’d come back to her.
Being stuck on an island by himself would have been bad enough; the loneliness, the isolation would no doubt be detrimental to his mental health, to his hopes of being found, but this? This had to be worse.
She helped, but only because he pushed her to. He knew that if it were up to her - they would have long since starved. He watched her as he braided more palm fronds to pad the sleeping platform, she was washing some of the clothes she’d worn as best she could, and he couldn’t help but admit that she was pretty. Her face was pleasant to look at when her nose wasn’t turned up. He can’t help but like the shape of her, imagining her skin would be soft and silky - he’d definitely been on this island too long.
Doesn’t matter how attractive she is, she doesn’t want you, and you don’t want her.
He didn’t know if he was reminding himself, or convincing himself.
A noise in the treeline behind him stops him mid-braid and for a moment, he thinks there might be someone else on the island, but he realizes what it is and grabs his knife. If he plays this right, tonight they’d eat like kings.
-
A new appreciation was born of having to wash your own clothes, for electricity, for washing machines and dryers, for Tide pods. For the maids who did your laundry and for the people who did your drycleaning, for the neat drawers full of clean clothes waiting at home.
For now, these would have to do. They wouldn’t smell like your favourite fabric softener, but they’d be clean enough to wear here at least. Francisco had set up a makeshift laundry line from the helicopter to a leaning palm tree, his things hanging as you added your own, and you briefly considered folding his things for him when his absence caught your attention.
“Francisco?” you called out to him, ignoring the way your heart raced. Usually, when he went off to get water or fruit, he let you know; it was unlike him to leave without a word. There had to be a reason. He wouldn’t just abandon you, would he?
Grab a hold of yourself, where the hell would he even go?
He crashed through the trees, triumphant and laughing, and you shoved away the altogether too-big feeling of relief that washed over you to see him.
“Good news, Princess, there’s wild boar on the island.” It was the happiest you’d seen him, well, ever. “It’ll be hard, but I think I can catch one.” He was making his way towards his supplies, and very quickly, the relief turned to dread. “We’re going to feast-”
“You’re going to kill a wild pig?” It was very hard to keep the worry out of your tone, or off your face.
“What’s the matter, never had pork chops?” He frowned now, his hands on his hips facing you.
“I mean, yeah, but this is a little different than going to a butcher and grabbing a few chops. You’re going to hunt down the animal and kill it? I’m not into that. I don’t know if I could eat it.” He narrowed his eyes at you, no doubt preparing to rip you a new one. “It’s also incredibly dangerous - they have a tendency to gore people.” His expression changed at that, real consequences seemed to get through to him.
“I mean, it’s not that different, but fine.” The wind had gone out of his sails, “I’ll see if I can catch something in the water - you okay with that?” He grabbed his fishing gear, raising an eyebrow, and you nodded before he made his way towards the water. You knew he was probably cursing you for ruining whatever he imagined cooking, but still, you couldn’t help but consider it a victory.
Babe, the pig wouldn’t be dying on your watch, and neither would he. Instead, he returned to the camp a few hours later with a fish, a few crabs, and a look that said you better not have any complaints. You didn’t. None that you’d say out loud anyway.
Dinner was a quiet affair, tasty and filling with the fish and the added protein; you both went to sleep full, and ungored.
-
Something loud dragged you up and out of the haze of sleep. It was still dark, and the sun had not risen yet. The sound was definitely something loud - probably just a plane. You shot up, scrambling out of the shelter to see if what you were hearing was real, Francisco barely moved.
It was high up, but it was definitely a plane.
“Francisco! There’s a plane. Where are the flares?” You all but barrelled into the shelter to shake him out of his dreams.
“Hmmm, tired baby.” He was out of it but strong when he pulled you closer - you ignored the way your stomach flipped on its ass at his pet name.
“Francisco, let me go, there’s a plane!” You smacked at his face lightly, just enough to wake him up.
“Huh? A plane?” your words broke through his sleep-addled brain, and he shot up. “What kind of plane?” He was out and grabbing at his bag momentarily before he swore loudly, a sigh filling the quiet of the dawn. “You called me for a commercial plane? You didn’t actually fire a flare, did you?” The blood drained from his face momentarily.
“No, I would have, but I didn’t know where you put the flare gun.” You frowned at him, annoyed. “I thought they’d see it.”
“Thank Christ.” He took a deep breath, his hands on his hips, “That Is a commercial flight, and if you’d fired the flare, it would have not only been a waste of a flare, but you could have burned the shelter down, could have ruined our supplies.” He seemed angry, and that, in turn, pissed you off.
“I didn’t think about that, I was trying to help-“ You crossed your arms, ignoring the annoyed look on his face.
“With the altitude that plane has, it wouldn’t matter if we had a thousand flares; come to me before you try to signal anyone, got it Princess?” He didn’t wait for a response, instead, he got back into bed and didn’t mention the incident again.
You got back into the shelter, laying in the pre-dawn glow - conflicting feelings fighting for dominance within you. You stared at his back, at the soft curl of hair he wore like a halo, and the fluttering of your stomach won out for just a moment. The solid press of him holding you close while still asleep was strangely welcome, although you’d never admit it. His condescending tone came to mind then, he had a habit of speaking down to you, and while you could admit you weren’t the most knowledgeable in survival, you still deserved to be spoken to like an adult.
You fell asleep fighting the urge to both press yourself close, and smack him upside the head.
-
When morning well and truly came, it found you both in a terrible mood.
He was quiet, much like he always was when he was annoyed, so you left him with his thoughts and set off to find more fruit through the path you’d both taken to traveling every few days. Luckily, the island was bountiful, and there were plenty of bananas, coconuts, and even some mangoes, but there was only so much you could take and you decided to venture out a bit further, keeping your eyes peeled for something different.
After a while, you found a berry bush, a small variety you didn’t recognize at once, but they were a very gorgeous, deep purple colour. Thinking he might appreciate a change as much as you, you picked a few handfuls and wrapped them up in a banana leaf before continuing your scavenging.
This was where your luck ran out, however, and if there were other varieties of fruit, they weren’t for you to find. Instead, you picked up a few mangoes and a coconut on your way back.
You found him looking through his things from the helicopter, a scowl on his face.
“Hey, I found some berries-” He looked up at the sound of your voice, his brow furrowed at the smile on your face. “I figured you were probably getting sick of the same fruit we’d been eating. I was hoping to find something else, but no luck.” You set them down in front of him.
“You didn’t eat this, did you?” his voice was curt and you frowned.
“No, I thought we could share them-”
“These are toxic.” He tossed them into the sand, burying them with a heavy sigh. “Do me a favour and don’t grab shit you don’t know for sure is edible. You could have made us really sick.” He turned then and continued with his inventory. Embarrassment and annoyance burned through your veins.
“You don’t have to be such an asshole about it, you know.” The words came on almost by themselves, bubbling up in your throat at the sanctimonious look on his face.
“What?” He paused and turned to look you in the face.
“You don’t have to be so fucking mean to me all the time.” You crossed your arms, holding in the frustration that seemed to expand in your lungs like a horrible balloon. “All you do is talk down to me. I said I was sorry about almost using the flare-” He huffed out an almost amused laugh and it boiled your blood. “It’s not funny! I’m stuck out here with you and all you do is yell, or talk to me like I’m stupid. I’m a person, and I deserve basic human decency-”
“What’s my last name?” He crossed his arms, his voice calm, but his question stole the words right out of your mouth.
“What?”
“You heard me - what is my last name? What do you know about me? Aside from the fact that my first name is Francisco, and that I’m a pilot.” He stood, knocking the sand off his shorts.
“I don’t think you told me-”
“No, I haven’t - do you know anything about who might be looking for me? Do you have any idea if I have anyone waiting for me to get home?” Your stomach sank, the anger slowly bleeding away and being replaced with shame. “Any idea if I’m married, or if I have kids?” He’s angry now, the scowl bigger than ever before.
“No, I-I don’t know.” You took a step back.
“No. No, you don’t. You don’t know that I’m divorced, that my parents are probably worried sick. You don’t know that I have a daughter, that her name is Tatiana, and that she’s probably thinking her dad abandoned her, or worse - that he’s dead.” You recoiled at that.
“I didn’t know you had a daughter.” Your voice feels small, and the shame in your belly grows, vines of guilt wrapping themselves around your throat.
“How could you? You’ve never fucking asked me a single thing about who I am as a person! All you’ve done is complain. Complain and talk to me endlessly about how much money your parents have, how you should be on a private island, and how much of a fucking eyesore my livelihood is, and any time I’ve opened my mouth to respond or explain how we’re both stuck here, you’ve spoken over me.” His words cut at you - you don’t know this man at all, and you never ever cared to ask. You don’t respond.
He was well and truly angry now, kicking sand away from himself in his frustration.
“I’m sorry-” He put his hands up.
“Don’t. I don’t need you to apologize. I need you to pull your weight, and maybe realize that I’m also a person, and that all your money means jackshit to me. I need you to treat me like a human being, not just a sounding board.” He walked away, leaving you with your guilt - a sad balloon deflating alone.
-
They were both quiet that night. With Francisco, it was mostly out of anger. The feelings of inadequacy and frustration he’d been bottling up had finally been spoken aloud, and now he was processing them, all while still being stuck on this godforsaken island.
For her, he could see it was pure guilt. From the subdued expression, from her quiet words and general withdrawal, he knew no one had ever been so honest with her before. He would have almost felt guilty, if he hadn’t been so annoyed and hurt at the way she’d treated him. Instead, they both avoided each other for the rest of the night - a silent shared meal before wordlessly falling asleep in the shelter.
He woke the next morning to the feeling of her pressed against him again.
Her deep, even breaths against the back of his neck were embarrassingly welcome, and he ignored the way his body responded. He let out a low, deep sigh, grateful that he was facing away, a shudder passing through his body at the thought of having to explain why he was as hard as a rock.
His hand traveled down to where her leg was draped over his hip, unable to resist feeling her skin for just a moment before he slowly untangled their limbs, and made his way towards the water.
—
Days passed, and they passed without much conversation. This particular morning was somehow even more quiet despite the constant sound of waves lapping at the shore. The anger had fizzled out, and what was left was more akin to silent resignation. The two of you danced around each other, performing what were now everyday tasks without uttering a single word. The hours slipping by wordlessly, that is, until your scream cut through the silence.
“What is it?” He was at your side quickly, his eyes wide with something that looked suspiciously like worry.
“I think I stepped on a shell-” The sand around your foot was turning pink, your eyes widening at the sight.
“Okay, take a deep breath and sit here-” He guided you with surprisingly soft hands towards one of the logs around the burned-out fire. “Don’t move - try to keep your foot out of the sand.” He stood then, walking away.
“Where are you going?” Your voice sounded strange, almost whiny, and you ignored the little pang of despair.
Get a hold of yourself.
“Just going to get the first aid kit.” The cut throbbed as you waited, and soon he returned with one of the water bottles and a big red case. He walked with purpose, the look on his face shamed you to have been so clueless. This was a man that had obviously dealt with many a scraped knee. “Okay, let's see what we’re dealing with.”
He kneeled on the sand before you, taking your foot into his hands. You hissed when he softly brushed the sand away.
“Tsk, come on now Princess. I know you can be braver for me than that.” His hands were soft, and so was his tone, and it filled you with something, comfort amongst other, less wholesome thoughts. You shook them away, chewing on your bottom lip, watching as he played nurse. “Nothing too crazy, just a little cut.”
He rinsed the sand carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“Okay, this might sting a little.” He rifled through the open case beside him, grabbing a little pack of what looked to be antiseptic. “Deep breath for me.” He watched you then, waiting until you let the breath go before wiping the wound clean. The sting almost slapped you across the face, every instinct screaming to pull your foot away from the mean man.
“Okay, okay - you’re okay.” his hands engulfed your ankle, holding you firmly in place. “Good job, we’re almost done.” he spoke low, opening up a waterproof bandaid and carefully covering the tiny wound. “There we go. All done.” He pressed a small kiss to the top of your foot, his eyes widening after. “Sorry- force of habit.” He laughed awkwardly.
“Thank you. It feels much better.” You felt the heat in your chest and in your ears and ignored it, ignored the whole mess of feelings blooming in your gut for him.
“Yeah, sure.” He collected his things before scratching at the back of his neck and it thrilled you to realize that he looked as flushed as you felt. “I’m going to go catch something.” He got up quickly, moving with purpose away from where you sat, curtailing any further discussion.
-
He hadn’t expected it, but she’d taken his words to heart. He’d felt terrible after going off on her. The embarrassment on her face at how she’d treated him, although completely warranted, pulled at his heartstrings. He couldn’t exactly say why - it wasn’t something he could explain, not something he wanted to delve into. Whether that was for his benefit or hers, he couldn’t be sure.
She no longer had to be told to fetch fruit, or water. She did her best to keep the camp organized, she no longer spoke about her wealth, or Louis. She was quiet most of the time, in fact, and he wasn’t sure if it was better, or worse.
Where she mostly avoided his annoyance throughout the day, she still clung to him at night. He never told her, convincing himself it was to spare her further embarrassment, ignoring the little part of him that knew it was because he was terrified that if she knew, she’d stop.
-
Things were different, that was for sure. The days passed and you had to admit to yourself that you’d been such an ungrateful, horrid little - well, Princess. He’d been completely right about you, and he’d had the patience of a saint. You saw him with different eyes now. You saw a competent, strong, intelligent man who up until now, was the only reason you’d survived on this godforsaken island as long as you had. It was well and truly humbling.
Instead of complaining, now you did your best to pull your weight. The goal was to show him that you were grateful, that you weren’t just some spoiled rich girl, that you could be something other than that, anyway. You wanted - needed to prove to him that you weren’t a burden.
-
It had been a particularly hot day, the sun beating down on the both of you with a vengeance. Sunset couldn’t come fast enough, and once it did, you cherished it like never before.
He dug around in the helicopter while you sat on the log, enjoying the tiny, but very welcome breeze coming off the water.
“Oh wow, I forgot about this,” You heard the smile in his voice, “How would you feel about a drink?” He held a bottle in his hand, making his way over to your place in the sand.
“I’d feel great actually, if you don’t mind sharing.”
“Bottle’s almost full, more than enough for both of us.” He sat next to you, taking a generous sip of the amber liquid before handing it to you. It was warmer than you would have liked, but the burn was pleasant enough that you didn’t care. “Good, right?” His smile is as breezy as the ocean, and just as welcome.
“Very good,” you couldn't help but admit before taking another long sip, “I can already feel it.” You smiled, handing it back to him.
“We’ll be cheap drunks tonight, that’s for sure.” He took another long swallow, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way his throat worked. You watched the fire instead, focusing on the embers as the drink settled in your stomach. The heat spreads through your limbs, making you feel heavy where you sit beside him.
You both sat in silence for a time, passing the bottle back and forth until most of it was gone, and your head felt like a balloon barely tethered to your body.
“This would be such a beautiful place…without the whole ‘being stranded’ thing.” He held the bottle loosely, his eyes no doubt taking in the gorgeous sunset.
“You mean you don’t love being stuck out here with me?” You bumped his shoulder, and it vaguely registers how much you missed physical touch. He laughed, full-throated.
“Oh yeah, this is definitely heaven.” His expression is exaggerated, “You know what I mean.” He gestures to where the water laps at the shore. “This is a paradise, just needs a resort, and an airport.” He sighed, his mood is the friendliest you’ve ever seen.
“Yeah, it would definitely make a difference.” You leaned back and listened to the water. “Happy you’re here though, woulda died without you.” You didn’t mean to say it, but it’s absolutely true.
“Oh, I don’t know-” He shrugged, modest and much kinder than you deserved.
“Yes, you do-” You shoved at his arm softly, “You’re the only reason we’re still alive, super nice to me despite the fact that I can be a spoiled little brat.” You laughed.
“Can’t argue with that.” He laughed, “I like brats, though.” He smiled, and something that feels very much like butterflies fluttered around in your stomach. He didn't say anything else, and neither did you, the butterflies lingered, though, well into the night, and they only seemed to get stronger whenever his eyes found yours.
“It’s getting late-” He puts the bottle down, “-we should get some rest.”
You nodded, not trusting your voice, instead, you just followed him towards the shelter.
It’s a strange, unfamiliar dance you’re both doing - the polar opposite of how things have been between you. Shy smiles replace cold stares, and a curious longing takes hold of you. It would embarrass you to fall prey to your baser instincts - there’s something in the way his eyes tracked you that says you weren’t alone in your feelings.
-
Something has shifted, he can feel it in the tense energy between them. A pleasant buzz flowed through his veins, danced along his nerves like a current, beat through his heart, and into his loins. She was so close, he could practically feel her warmth.
She sighed beside him, her legs rubbing together like a cricket and he knew in his gut, she felt the same energy.
“Good night, Frankie.” She whispered the words, as though someone might overhear. His eyes clenched shut at the feel of her breath ruffling through his hair, closer than she’d ever let herself get, awake anyway.
“Night-” Everything in him wanted to turn over, to feel her fingers ruffle through his hair, but something held him back. He stayed still, his body tense despite how relaxed the alcohol had made him.
“It’s a bit cold–” Her voice is a bit closer, so close he felt it in the shell of his ear, “-okay if I scoot closer?” Her hands pressed against his back, her legs tangled with his, and he knows in his bones, it’s just a ploy, but he stayed still nonetheless.
“Sure-get close.” He took her hand and wrapped it around his middle, holding it well above his waist, letting out a deep breath.
“Oh-okay.” She pressed her face into his shoulder, and every cell in his body screamed at him to turn around, to kiss her, bury his tongue in her mouth, and then trail it down, bury it between her legs, but he shook his head, convincing himself she just wants this.
“Night.” His voice cracked, but he said nothing more. He felt her staring at him, letting out a little sigh of her own.
“Night, Frankie.”
—
The days following your drunken night passed by in mostly silence, with a polite avoidance from him, and an annoyed quiet from you.
It was no secret that you had the power to annoy the hell out of him, but you’d thought there’d been something else. The look in his eye when he’d told you he liked brats, the sound of his voice when he’d held you close, the considerable boner pressing against your ass when you’d woken up to him wrapped around you that next morning.
Maybe you’d misread him, maybe it wasn’t flirting, maybe he’d just been stroking your ego, being nice to you, and you’d practically thrown yourself at him only to be.. What? Ignored?
-
The wind whipped around as you both ate dinner a few quiet days later, the sky dark and pregnant with the promise of a heavy rain, filling you with worry. The shelter was sturdy, you knew that, but you didn’t think it would hold up against a storm like the one that had blown you both onto the island to begin with.
“I don’t think we’ll be enjoying a fire tonight,” His eyes stared at the sky, same as you, “we should bring the clothes into the shelter; it’s going to pour soon.” He got up, tossing his banana peels into the fire pit just as the first few drops of water sprinkled down on top of you.
A nervous current flowed through your body as you made yourself comfortable within the shelter, making you acutely aware of his closeness.
The rain came down in sheets as you both lay there, filling the silence with its rhythmic pattering against the tarp. Lightning flashed, illuminating the space between you. A shiver ran through you at the look on his face.
“You okay?” His hand shot out, landing softly on your arm, raising goosebumps as it slid down towards your elbow.
“I’m fine.” You shudder, but all at once, annoyance springs up at his rejection the other night - you turn to give him your back.
“Are you… angry at me?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
“Why would I be angry at you? It’s not like I threw myself at you or anything.”
“What?” His voice sounded incredulous, “You mean, when we were drinking?”
“Yes!” You sighed, “I was all over you. I guess I was wrong.” All at once, you’re embarrassed, and desperate to get away from his incredulous expression. The storm, however, holds you both hostage.
“Hm.” He sounded almost amused, and your stomach dropped, “Well, if I’d known that all you needed was to be fucked, things would have been different.”
Your stomach did a backflip onto its ass, shock, and pure adrenaline coursing through your body at his words. You turned slowly to face him.
“Sorry?” It came out almost stupidly, and he smiled a very self-satisfied smile.
“I said, if I’d known, that in order for you to stop being such a brat,” He moved in closer, forcing you to lay back and make space for him between your legs. “All you needed was for me to fuck you, I would have done it sooner.” He hovered above you, close enough that he must’ve surely felt your heart pounding where his chest met yours. It’s with Herculean strength, that you composed yourself, albeit nervously.
“Well, I guess I just thought you were more perceptive.” The bold words were completely at odds with the tremor in your voice; he laughed, full-throated, and it sent a current across every inch of you.
“Or maybe, I thought you’d open that pretty mouth of yours, and say what it is you wanted.” He pressed forward, dragging his lips across your jaw before capturing your mouth in a kiss. It started soft, and for a moment, the storm disappeared, your hands finding themselves tangled up in his messy waves, and then his tongue pressed forward, and it pulled a moan from somewhere deep inside you.
There was no more talking. Only the feeling of your heart racing, your cunt aching, and his comforting weight pressing you into the shelter, that is, before he shifted his hips and the considerable heft of him was slotted perfectly against where you needed him most.
The slip of his warm palm from the trembling skin of your belly raised goosebumps in its wake, and pulled a gasp from your mouth into his when it glided under your shit and landed on your breast. Those deft fingers you’d seen working away on all manner of things on this island, now plucked deliciously at your nipple.
It was almost violent, both the storm outside, and your haste to divest him of his clothes. The need to feel that golden skin on yours was a hunger pang, both terrible and euphoric, that burned as brightly as the flashes of lightning that lit up the shelter. His eyes shone with the same intensity you felt, and instantly, he moved away to help you, too, the two of you scrambling with a ferocity that bordered on anger.
“God, you’re so fucking hot–” He hissed the words onto your face before kissing you again, and any softness was gone, his teeth clicked against yours before his tongue took yours and laid down the law. Your skin burned with want, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back before you moved your hand down between you to finally grasp his cock. He pulled away from your mouth to stare down where you held onto him, drunk with the sight of just how big he looked in your grip.
“Is this what you’ve been wanting?” He held himself above you, watching as you stroked him slowly.
“God, yes, I wanted this - I want you to fuck me–” you swiped your thumb over the head, fat pearly drops of his own arousal making it slippery, “I want you to come inside me, make me feel good-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before his mouth claimed yours once more and pulled your hand away in order to slip himself between the lips of your sex, coating himself in you for a moment before he finally slipped inside.
“Jesus Christ, man.” You breathed the words onto his face at the stretch, at the way he seemed to have taken up every inch of space inside you, making you overflow with him. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, his hips snapping in a toe-curling rhythm. For a few minutes, there were no more words left, the only thing you can manage is to whimper, then moan in earnest when he ducked his head down to capture a nipple in his mouth. Your fingers like talons in his hair, keeping him close to your breast while your cunt soaked him in your want.
He let go of the perky bud with a pop, his eyes glazed.
“Fuck baby, I’m gonna come so fast,” he almost slurred his words, pussy drunk, “your tight little cunt is gonna make me fucking come–” He sped up, his cock punching into you hard enough to make your breasts bounce, hard enough to make a lewd noise where you’re joined and you desperately wanted him to slow down so you can catch up.
“Wait–” Your legs squeezed where they’d hitched up high on his hips, “Frankie–” His rhythm stuttered for a moment before he thrust again, deep, filling you with his come, and you almost cried at the thought that he might be done so soon.
“Fuck-” He ground himself as deep as he could, milking himself inside you for a moment before pulling away abruptly, hissing through the oversensitivity to look at his handiwork, “that’s so fucking pretty baby, look at me dripping out-” He smiled at you, almost laughing at the look of anguish on your face at the emptiness, “what’s wrong?” His hand rubbed at your belly for a moment before it slipped down, and two big fingers filled you back up. “I know you didn’t come, but you don’t think I’m just going to leave you like this, right?” He pumped slowly, making you keen when he pressed against something holy inside of you. “No, I got you, baby.”
One moment he was kneeling between your legs, and the next, he was flat on his belly, his face pressed up against your pussy, tongue right on the button of your clit.
The moan you let out was obscene. His tongue circled your clit with devastating precision, over and over again, until you were staring down at him with your mouth open, begging and praying incoherently for him to keep going just like that. His eyes were bright, laser-focused on you just like his tongue, and his free hand came up to hold onto your breast, pinching at your nipple, and all of a sudden, the sting snapped, the wave crested, and you practically folded in half, swearing loudly as you gushed around his fingers.
-
You weren’t sure how much time passed, but the storm got a little stronger, and louder as you both lay in the shelter, quiet and content to hold each other. Lightning turned the darkened skies into day for a moment before the boom of thunder shook you to your core.
“It’s okay, just loud.” He said it softly into your ear with the same patience he’d had when he bandaged your foot, the comforting words dads usually used for their children.
“I know, it just startled me.”
“Force of habit.”
“Your daughter, is she scared of thunderstorms?” You turned towards him, making yourself comfortable in his embrace.
“Only at first.” His smile was wistful, “She always jumps from the first big boom but then laughs,” his eyes crinkled, and it was hard not to notice just how handsome he is, the care and love he has for his daughter shining out through his eyes. “Sorry, I just miss her a lot.” It faltered, that handsome smile, and it made you sad for him.
“Don’t be sorry. I can’t imagine how hard all this must be for you.” Guilt swirled in your chest at the way you’d treated him before, at your general attitude towards everyone up until getting stranded. “I’m sorry about how I was–” He shook his head no, much too kind, kinder than you deserved, and you pushed through.
“No, let me say it. I’m sorry about how I treated you - I was horrible.”
“You weren’t that bad.”
“Yes, I was, so spoiled and insensitive, I didn’t even give your situation a second thought. All I cared about was myself and I can’t even believe it now. I’m sorry. I’m really lucky to have you here.”
“Thank you,” he smiled, one of his palms rubbing your back soothingly, “you’ve definitely had a big turnaround.” He laughed, and you smacked his arm playfully. “I’m lucky you’re here too. I would have been miserable by myself.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but sigh at the simple comfort human touch could bring. “Not sure you would have ever agreed to go out with me had we not been stuck here together.”
His words were light, and for a moment, you wanted to protest, but you didn’t think you could, and it shamed you further.
“Oh god, what a moron I was.” You groaned, pressing your face into the warm skin of his neck.
“You weren’t a moron, maybe a little oblivious, and I don’t mean that in a cruel way. You and I are in very different circles. I doubt our paths would have even crossed, but I’m glad they did because as much as you have the power to drive me nuts, I really like you.” His hands continued their comforting sweep across your skin, lulling you into the most relaxed state you could remember being in, in a long time.
“I would have been an idiot to not give you a chance. You’re so sweet and smart, and so strong, so fucking handsome, too. You take care of me and make me laugh, and you have done your best to keep us both safe and sound and I’m just - I’m ashamed that maybe in the past I would have been too shallow and stuck up to notice.” The storm abates as you confess some feelings you’d been harboring.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. I think I probably would have dismissed you just as quickly for similarly shallow reasons. As gorgeous as you are, I most likely would have written you off as some rich trust fund-baby.” He half-shrugged.
“I’m still sorry. It’s because of me that we’re here.”
“I could have said no.”
“I pressured you with money. I pushed even though you’d said it was unsafe.”
“I still could have said no. Let’s just forget it all, everything that happened before we got here. Point is we’re here, and we have to keep it together until someone finds us.” His hand kept its rhythm, sweeping over any and all skin, casting its spell of comfort until both it and the storm lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep.
-----
Tag list: @frannyzooey @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @sherala007 @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @maxwell--lord @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @dihra-vesa @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @sarahjkl82-blog @fan-of-encouragement @queenofthecloudss @deadhumourist @felicisimor @sophiefatale2495 @toomanystoriessolittletime @what-iwish-you-knew @pedrostories @athalien @bi-thewayy @literallydontlook @pedrosbrat @gamingaquarius @localddreamers @luxmundee @iamafadedmoon @nakhudanyx @littlemisspascal @grogusmum @recklessworry @heyitmelexie @killyspinacoladas @gothicxbarbie @evildxad @dragonslarimar @spideysimpossiblegirl @chemtrail-mix @maievdenoir @breezythesimp @altarsw @artooies-scream @staygolddindjarin @softsweetedbeauty @littlemisspascal @yuiopiklmn @squidwell @just-blogging-around @bbyanarchist @girlofchaos @maddiedrmr @frasmotic @acourtofsnakes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @astoryisaloveaffair @harriedandharassed @swtaura @send-me-to-valhalla @shirks-all-responsibilities @androah @alwaysachorusgirl @dindjarinsmut @captain-jebi @gallowsjoker @oliviajdjarin @actuallyanita @tusk89 @dadbodfanatic-x @naiomiwinchester @blazedprince @rosymythologies @avidreader73 @mr-underhills-things @avengersfan25 @tastygoldentaters @nyotamalfoy @mymindfuckery @txtattoostark @its-nebuleuse
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#francisco morales#frankie morales#triple frontier au#frankie x reader#frankie morales x you#francisco morales x reader#francisco catfish morales#frankie catfish morales
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Fics that Live in My Mind, Rent Free (Pedro's Version) - Part 1
Happy NYE! 🥳🥳
I read so many wonderful, hot, gut-wrenching, unforgettable, inspiring Pedro Pascal character fanfics... and I haven't been reblogging them 🫣 (it's me, hi, I'm the problem it's me). Don't hate me please - reblogging gives me so much anxiety, and I'm not even sure I could articulate why if I tried - and I see a lot of the discussion/discourse/posts re: reblogging and I truly understand all perspectives although it just seems to elevate my nerves about even more.
However, I understand the impact and moreover, I want to do it for the writers that bring me so much joy and inspiration, so I endeavour to try. I want to make it clear that this is a personal hang up of mine, and I have 100% absolutely no comments on how anyone else engages here; reblog/comment/like or don’t per your own preferences and you have nothing but love from me 😘
So it will be a 2024 personal goal of mine to be less shy about reblogging, but while I work up my courage/practice, I wanted to go back and compile a list of some of my fave Pedro boy fics; I think of each and every one of these fics often and have revisited them all (i.e. Exactly the fics I should have reblogged when I read them). I went deep in my likes so some of these fics are quite old; you may have already read them all! If you have or haven’t, I hope you love them as much as I do!
Din Djarin (The Mandalorian, GOAT)
Boxer!Din AU by @djarinsbeskar (Boxer and his masseuse, who relaxes him in more ways than one. I've mentioned before that this is the first Modern Din AU I ever read and it's cemented itself as one of the best. Making Safest with You Din an ex-boxer is my humble homage.)
Freu(Din)an Slip by @saradika (Is there space porn in the SW universe? Yes.)
Bare by @charnelhouse (part of an AU between Din and bounty hunter!reader; other favourite instalments include Come and Conquer and Din's Ex)
A Bond to My Soul by @whiskeynwriting (King!Din and reader, with a battle just outside the doors)
Mine also by @whiskeynwriting (Jealous Din, no need to say more)
Beloved series by @groguspicklejar (Din falls in love with Cyare; mind the tags - the writing is rich and the emotions deep)
Courting by @writerlyhabits (another Mandalorian tries to court you and Din's having none of that)
Hold me down by @starlightmornings (Din as your weighted blanket)
Be Mine by @spacecowboyhotch (Glove kink)
Save a Speeder, Ride a Mando by @sprout-fics (I love fics where Din is jealous of Cobb)
Helping Hand and Did you miss me? by @mellowswriting (Din smut and fluff; they're in love, okay?)
Fix you by @roguetonorth (Comforting Din)
Rough Day by @no-droids (I think everyone knows about this fic; Sweet Girl!Reader holds a special place in my heart)
Take me to Church by @frannyzooey (Western AU; seriously one of the hottest and most romantic series I've ever read. I cried several times 🥹)
Flowers & Sex by @221bshrlocked (Din and innocent!Reader)
Show me by @moralesispunk (A bounty gets mouthy)
Patience by @oscarseyebrow (Starts with cockwarming)
Close Quarters by @absurdthirst (One bed/bunk)
Reunion by @heybluechild (Breaking in the N1)
Significant by @softlyspector (Din calls Reader "Riduur"; I love, love, love Mando fics with lots of Mando'a; so much care is always taken by the writers to translate and weave the words into the story)
Din takes out his frustrations by @ourautumn86
Javier Pena (Narcos)
Burn for Me by @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis (Reader teases Javi; it backfires)
Use me by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Javi is frustrated)
Needy by @wheresarizona (Reader is going to be late for work 🤭)
Reader brings Javi dinner at work by @forthetears
Joel Miller (TLOU)
Bad Girl by @seventeenpins (The first in a hot stepdad!Joel Miller series)
The Boss' Bunny by @talaok (The first in a series about QZ criminal boss Joel and his insatiable bunny)
Help! I'm Stuck! by @nosesitter (Oof! Father-in-law!Joel Miller and his OF daughter-in-law; 2 in the series so far)
Stripped by @thot-of-khonshu (Mr. Miller goes to a strip club)
Stay in Bed series by @psychedelic-ink (Neighbour Joel, pre-outbreak)
A Man Like Him by @valerinaswriting (No one should question Joel's abilities)
Mine by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Reader wears Joel's shirt on accident)
You Are My Cinema by @itgetsdark-x (Camgirl!Reader)
An Afternoon with Your Dad's Best Friend by @elvinaa (I mean, it's in title 🤭; I actually always secretly wish for a sequel to this one)
Come and get your love by @sunflowersteves (Sunshine!Reader)
Francisco "Catfish" Morales (Triple Frontier)
Kinktober 2022 - Erotic Photos by @moralesispunk (Reader gifts Frankie a Polaroid camera)
Thirds by @haylzcyon (Reader visits new boyfriend Frankie at work)
Grass is Greener by @haylzcyon (Frankie mows the lawn)
Kinktober 2022 - Overstimulation by @flightlessangelwings-updates (This was my introduction to pussy eating king Frankie)
Cabin in the woods by @guess-my-next-obsession (The cabin is spooky but Frankie is there to take care of Reader)
Double Feature (and all of the Box Set Universe) by @frannyzooey (Frankie and Reader love movies)
Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)
Little Red's Shadow by @littlemisspascal (Werewolf!Pero 🥹)
In my dreams by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Princess falls for a mercenary)
Tim Rockford (Merge Mansion, all 48 seconds)
A Sight for Sore Eyes and Sir by @ozarkthedog (Semi-public sex)
Anything you say can and will be held against you by @jksprincess10 (Workplace rivals)
An Important Appointment by @boliv-jenta (Sex worker!Reader)
Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)
A present by @radiowallet (Lingerie prompt; Cat writes some of the best Marcus Moreno fics on here imho. This one is my personal fave)
First Date by @absurdthirst (Workplace FWB)
The Date by @wardenparker (Professor!Marcus but also Marcus on a motorcycle)
Part 2 of list
#fic rec list#fic rec#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#din djarin#din djarin fic#din djarin fanfiction#javier peña#javier pena fic#javier pena fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#frankie morales#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales fic#tim rockford#tim rockford fanfiction#tim rockford fic#pero tovar#pero tovar fic#pero tovar fanfiction#marcus moreno#marcus moreno fanfiction#marcus moreno fic
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BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM
Chapter One: I Know He's Crazy, But He's The One I Want
Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.
Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking around, FLUFF, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Kissing, Barely any plot, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content,
Word Count: 7.2k
A/N: Happy “The Tortured Poets Department” release! I couldn’t help but shriek with joy when I heard But Daddy I Love Him. Literally, dad best friend Joel Miller coded. I would like to thank @wheresarizona for dealing with my spam in her messages from me as I was yapping about the new album and gushing over her writing; she’s literally one of the best writers ever. That is a fact and I will die on that hill.
This fic is heavily inspired by all of the dad's best friend books and dbf!Joel Miller fics I have read over the years. It is with great honor (and a lot of fucking fear) to present to you this Frankenstein of all of my fav tropes!
Heads up, I’m actually dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift
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As you walk past the neighboring house, you observe the real estate agent meticulously placing the 'SOLD' banner onto the weathered for sale sign. A strange sense of satisfaction washes over you, knowing that someone has finally purchased the property.
Entering your home, you release a sigh of relief as the familiar comfort washes over you. With a casual toss, your keys and bag find their place on the hallway table. The urge to call out to your dad bubbles up, but it freezes in your throat when you're met with an unexpected sound drifting from his home office.
Your heart quickens as you peek inside, only to find your dad's best friend, Joel Miller, lounging on the plush brown lazy boy. His deep, resonant voice fills the room, sending shivers down your spine even before you lay eyes on him.
Clutching the doorframe for support, you fight to steady your nerves. With trembling fingers, you manage to force a smile onto your lips, though it feels strained. "Hey, Dad. Hey… Joel," you manage to squeak, the mere sound of his name stirring a flurry of emotions within you.
The room feels stiflingly quiet as you wait for a response, the weight of Joel's gaze almost tangible. You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as his intense eyes meet yours. His attention feels almost palpable, his gaze lingering on you in a way that sends a rush of warmth through your body. With a low, almost imperceptible grunt of acknowledgment, Joel's gaze finally breaks away, leaving you breathless in his wake.
You try to avert your gaze out of sheer habit, but it's futile, like trying not to be drawn to the most captivating, exquisite sight in existence.
God, it's as if he's been carved from pure perfection, each time you lay eyes on him.
That same intense, brooding look he wore the day of your college graduation, late last year, still grips you. And it seems Joel's gaze has the same effect on your dad, eliciting a familiar reaction. With a quick double-take, your dad shoots a glance at his best friend before swiveling in his seat.
"Hey there, sweetheart, just catching up with Joel. He dropped by for a surprise visit," your dad starts, but he halts mid-sentence, noticing your undeniable reaction. Concern etches his features as he addresses you. "Honey?" he prompts, his voice laced with worry, as you struggle to find your voice for the umpteenth time in mere seconds.
Joel's gaze narrows, his jaw clenching as his intense scrutiny roams over you, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
As you cling to the doorframe, you can't help but notice the subtle movement of Joel's prominent Adam's apple, betraying his own unease.
Breaking the tension, your dad's nervous chuckle pierces the silence, attributing my apparent moodiness to your usual banter. He turns back to Joel, commenting on his friend's expression.
"What's going on with you two?" he quips, his tone shifting from light-hearted to serious in an instant. "Feels like there's some dirty secret between you," your dad adds, the jest evaporating from his voice. Yet, Joel remains unfazed by your dad's observation, his gaze still locked onto you as a faint smile curves his lips.
His lips curl into a smirk, accentuating the charming dimple that appears in his slightly scruffy beard whenever he smiles—a sight that never fails to tug at your heartstrings.
But as your dad's suspicion lingers in the air, Joel's demeanor shifts, yet you still struggle to connect the dots regarding why he's been giving you that look since graduation.
That day was meant to mark a pivotal moment in your life, celebrating the culmination of years of hard work in college. Yet, Joel's presence, the way he gazed at you, and the unexpected intensity of his hug during the congratulations... It's forever etched in your memory for reasons beyond the academic achievement.
And at the center of it all is one word: Joel.
He's a towering figure, a mix of solid muscle and the comforting softness of his belly. In the moment, you brushed off his tight embrace after receiving your diploma as merely the enthusiasm of the occasion.
But as you felt his whole body pressing right into yours during that hug, you knew it wasn’t your regular type of embrace.
“I’m so proud of you, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear. And though you didn’t catch his next words as clearly, you're certain he said something else that day. “…You feel so fuckin’ good….”
At least, that's what you've been convincing yourself he said. You recall gazing up into those big brown eyes, the same intense look he's giving you now, and wondering the same thing. How could an older, dangerously attractive man like Joel be even remotely interested in someone like you? Apart from being your dad’s best friend, he's more than twice your age and lives on the other side of the country with his daughter, Sarah.
You can almost picture the scandalized gasps of the single older women and ex-wives in your town, clutching their pearls and whispering, "What a mess," if you and Joel ever got together; if he was even remotely interested in you like that.
But you've replayed that scene in your mind every day since, and no matter how hard you try, there's just no denying your secret crush on him.
It all started long before college, your feelings for Joel simmering beneath the surface. Back then, you couldn't quite grasp what it was you felt for him. All you knew was that it felt right, and that feeling remains unchanged. Despite the nerves and shyness that being around him brings, there's another undeniable effect he has on you.
Like the overwhelming desire to sink back and beg him to indulge in things that his best friend's daughter probably shouldn't be fantasizing about. It's been a while since you last saw Joel, but he still exudes the same charm and looks even more handsome and fit than before, thanks to his job in construction as a contractor.
And when you receive that same look from him today, when your dad even jokes about his suspicions, you know Joel remembers that day too. The intensity in his eyes mirrors the moment he pulled you close, a memory etched as your most cherished moment so far.
"Well, I reckon’ my presence here might come as a bit of a surprise," Joel rasps, his gaze locked with yours as he emits a low chuckle for your dad's benefit. Unnoticed by your dad, Joel shoots you a sly wink, and you watch as your dad's tension melts away. He's relieved to know he wasn't imagining things, and undoubtedly thrilled once he hears Joel's news. "I'm moving here, right next door with Sarah. Tommy should be dropping her off here tomorrow," he announces with enthusiasm, but you feel the pit of your stomach drop.
Joel... here? For good? Oh, fuck.
Your dad erupts into loud whoops, raising both hands in the air. "It's about time, buddy! I knew you were keeping something from me," he adds, turning to you once again. "You were aware of this?" he asks, furrowing his brow with a hint of confusion.
"You knew Joel and Sarah were coming to town, didn’t you?" Dad repeats, finally grinning like a child at the news. Smiling like a dad who's pushed aside any notion of his best friend showing interest in his only daughter. And you catch a sly grin on Joel’s face as he comes to your rescue. "Oh, I mentioned I might pay a visit. Buttercup here wasn't aware of the specifics or that Sarah and I would be relocatin’ back here," he explains to your dad.
But when Joel smoothly fibs to your dad, insinuating that you were aware of his impending move back to town, even though it caught you completely off guard, he seals an instant and secret pact between the two of you with a single glance. His deep brown eyes wink at you, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. You realize you're in deeper trouble than you initially thought. And strangely enough, it's the kind of trouble you welcome with open arms.
In that fleeting moment, a silent understanding passes between you and Joel. With just a wink from him, your chest flutters with excitement, and a wave of anticipation rushes through you, leaving you feeling unexpectedly aroused at the prospect of having him nearby all the time. You're fully committed now, Joel's lie to his best friend serving as a shield for both of you, deflecting attention away from the undeniable tension between you.
"Sarah called last week," you fabricate, deciding to play along with Joel's deception. "As we were chatting, Joel mentioned something about visiting. It must've slipped my mind to mention it to you," you explain to your dad, hoping he'll buy into the white lie. Joel's low growl of contentment as he leans back, causing the leather chair to creak, reassures you that he approves of your little ruse.
Your dad's elation at the news of his best friend's return to their quaint little town is palpable, enough to overshadow any scolding he might have had for your omission about Sarah and Joel's supposed call.
But the truth remains: Sarah never called, and Joel's mysterious behavior is raising more questions than answers.
A surprise visit is one thing, but the intensity of Joel's gaze? The way he makes you feel? It's enough to give your long-standing crush on him a serious run for its money.
"But damn, Sarah will be here tomorrow?" your dad groans before chuckling. "A bit more notice would've been nice, but hell, it'll be good to see you, buddy."
"Listen, I've got something I can't postpone tomorrow. Maybe my daughter here could accompany you to pick up Sarah from the airport?" your dad suggests, turning his attention towards you.
Somewhere behind you, a strange sound escapes—it's you, emitting a sort of mewling noise that you know Joel catches, his smile widening in response.
"Sounds perfect," he agrees before you even have a chance to process it.
"Sweetie?" your dad asks, his tone sheepish now that he's volunteered you without asking if you were available.
You can only watch as the room seems to spin around you, nodding in agreement. "Yeah... sure, I don't have any tutoring sessions tomorrow."
"Perfect!" your dad sighs with relief, promising Joel they'll catch up later. "But I really need to get back to the shop. Are you alright here with her to help you settle into your new house with whatever you brought? The rest of your stuff hasn't arrived yet."
"Yeah, we'll be just fine," Joel assures in his trademark baritone, locking eyes with you.
You were so fixated on Joel's presence that you hadn't noticed the bags by the side of the home office.
"Sweetie? You sure you're okay to help? You look kind of..." your dad starts, but you take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself before replying, "Yeah, I'll be fine. We'll be fine. I can help."
"Alright then," your dad grabs his car keys, ready to leave the home office. He gives you both a final glance, kissing the top of your head. "I'll be back for dinner. Have fun, you two!"
You and Joel remain frozen in place, him on one side of the room and you by the doorway, both listening to your dad's fading footsteps and the rumble of his truck as he drives away.
You’re so fucked.
It's been six long months since you last saw each other, and for Joel, it's felt like an eternity. The day of your graduation marked the first time he laid eyes on you in over three years, and it was as if he was seeing you for the very first time.
You've grown into a remarkable adult, and Joel couldn't help but feel the overwhelming need to be there, not only for his buddy, your dad, but also for his sweet Buttercup. Witnessing his little girl all grown up and ready to embark on her journey into the world with her diploma was a moment he'll never forget. He'd never seen his best friend prouder, yet his gaze lingered on you for entirely different reasons.
Reasons and desires that had never crossed Joel's mind until that day. He couldn't resist pulling you close, feeling the warmth of your body pressed against his.
What was he thinking? Surely, everyone could see the effect you had on him.
But Joel wasn't thinking, he was acting on instinct. He was claiming what he knew belonged to him. Telling you he was proud of you was one thing, but he's still unsure if you heard what else he said about how good you felt in his arms.
Yet, he doesn't regret it. Because it was true then, and it remains true now. He just wishes he knew if you felt the same way. If you felt it in the same way he did. But how could you possibly feel the same way about him as he has about you these past six months?
Joel couldn't deny that there were many reasons why the relationship between you was complicated. For one, there was the age difference - you were more than half his age. Apart from having the kind of body he could grip, suck and fuck for a lifetime, additionally, you were his best friend's daughter, a bond that ran deep and could not be ignored.
That day, Joel took a risk, blurring the lines and potentially jeopardizing not just his friendship with your dad, but also the bond he shared with you by being so affectionate.
Surprisingly, you didn't seem to mind his gestures, and Joel was convinced that your dad hadn't even noticed. Despite the undeniable attraction he felt towards you, a feeling that lingered and intensified with every thought of you, Joel couldn't shake the worry that his actions might have caused a rift.
As days turned into weeks without any word from your dad, Joel's mind raced with doubts. He couldn't help but question if you had confided in your father about his behavior. Perhaps your dad had sensed Joel's infatuation with you, leading to a silence that spoke volumes.
Intrusive thoughts plagued Joel, wondering if you had been uncomfortable with his displays of affection. The fear that you might have someone else in your life to hold onto gnawed at him, leaving him restless and anxious about the potential consequences of his actions.
Joel and your dad used to share conversations daily, a bond that time and life's demands have gradually weakened, particularly with Sarah still navigating middle school. They both acknowledge the need to reconnect more often, yet something always seems to intervene.
But Joel's decision to visit your father in person wasn't impulsive; it was a deliberate choice, driven by a desire to stay for good this time.
No more fleeting visits. This time, it's permanent.
And it's all because of you.
Since your graduation day, you've occupied Joel's thoughts relentlessly. It's more than just an obsession; you're the sole focus of his mind, consuming his every waking moment.
You are the only thing he can fucking think about.
Joel would never dare voice his thoughts to your dad, not just because of his feelings, but also because your father had a history of using his fists to settle matters. If he even suspected a fraction of what Joel's mind was consumed with regarding his daughter... Well, Joel would never be allowed in your home, with your dad likely ensuring Joel carried a permanent reminder of his displeasure.
Despite his reluctance to keep secrets from his lifelong friend, Joel's motivation to act stems from a burning need that is beyond his mere desire to reunite with you.
He doesn't just want to see you again; he craves it with a fervor that borders on desperation. And the only way to satisfy this yearning is to summon the courage to ask for more.
Reconnecting with your dad was pleasant, but the sight of you, standing in the doorway of the home office, unleashes a torrent of emotions within Joel. It's as though he's been trapped in a deep freeze for the past six months, and your mere presence ignites a firestorm within him.
Every curve of your silhouette, every strand of hair framing your face, fuels Joel's desire until it simmers beyond control, all for you.
As you watched him, his gaze never wavered from your presence, taking in the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. He was grateful for the chair that supported him, as he felt the insanely hard erection you gave him.
Your natural grace and beauty had left him breathless, and he struggled to maintain his composure.
All from just being yourself. All without you even trying to do anything.
You really are just fucking perfect in every way.
You're now an adult, poised to embrace all the challenges and pleasures that adulthood entails. The mere thought sends a shiver of anticipation coursing through you once more, evoking memories of his touch on that unforgettable graduation day.
The intoxicating blend of his woodsy cologne, the creak of his well-worn leather jacket, and the soft fabric of his grey tee shirt against your skin linger in your mind, igniting a longing for more.
The sensation that floods Joel as he lays eyes on you in person after so long defies description.
It takes all his willpower to resist the impulse to stride over and scoop you up, succumbing to the overwhelming desire to claim you as his own and to drag you into your bedroom. But he restrains himself, clinging to the last shreds of his resolve, waiting for any sign from you that you're ready for his embrace.
When your gaze meets his, he witnesses the hitch in your breath, and he can't help but murmur, "Come here, sweetheart." Your response is like a magnetic pull, drawing you into his strong, steadfast arms. As you melt into his embrace, he's struck by the sense of finally being home. You are his home now.
Joel inhales the sweet fragrance of your hair, longing to whisper countless sentiments into your perfect little ear nestled so close to his mouth.
But all he can muster, without risking scaring you away, is a simple declaration in his southern drawl, "I missed you, my little buttercup."
You bury your face into his checkered flannel, your words muffled against his shirt as you confess, "I missed you too, Joel."
Your body instinctively gravitates towards his, fueled by both necessity and reflex. The memory of his last embrace has haunted your thoughts for the past six months, and as his massive, comforting arms envelop you once more, it feels as though you're picking up right where you left off. He feels even better than you remembered, and the mingling scents of his cologne and freshly laundered clothes stir a desire within you to cling to him forever.
Reluctantly, he releases you from the hug, clearing his throat as you take a small step back, managing to squeak out, “Do you want a cup of coffee before you get settled in your new house? You look kinda tired.”
“Sure,” Joel nods, and you sense him hovering behind you as you descend the staircase and enter the kitchen. You can feel his eyes tracing your movements from behind.
You busy yourself preparing the coffee as Joel sets his things down, knowing it'll provide the perfect opportunity to sit down and have a proper conversation.
As Joel takes a seat at the table, his gaze remains fixed on your curves as you move around the kitchen. In that moment, he realizes there's no way he can stay in this house for more than an hour, without confessing his feelings to you.
“You got a boyfriend?”
The sudden question nearly causes you to spill hot water all over your hand, and you freeze, feeling a slight tremble coursing through you.
“Well?” Joel's deep voice sends shivers down your spine, as if you're caught in the midst of the most exhilarating earthquake imaginable. Your mouth hangs open, unsure of how to respond.
“Boyfriend or not?” he repeats, his tone commanding. “Not,” you answer instantly, not minding the question one bit, especially when you see its effect on Joel.
“Good. Perfect,” he rumbles in a low tone.
Turning back to the kitchen counter, the clinking of ceramic cups fills the room, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as the heat spreads throughout your body and to the tips of your ears.
“Cream and sugar?” you ask, turning your head just long enough to inquire.
The sight of your body shifting under your clothes already ignites fantasies in Joel's mind, imagining all the ways he could pleasure you, even right there on your dad's kitchen floor if you desired.
“Joel?” you prompt, breaking him out of his daydream.
“Uh… Sure. Cream and sugar,” he echoes, noticing your continued blush and slight trembling as you prepare the cups. As you approach him with the coffee, the sudden sound of your dad's voice startles you, causing you to drop one cup, which shatters on the floor.
"Sweetheart, are you okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face as he rushes to the sink to run cold water over the affected area.
"I'm fine, Dad. Really," you reply, trying to hide your embarrassment.
"I thought you were gone," you add, unable to keep the annoyance out of your voice.
"I just forgot something. I came back to get it," your father explains, his eyes darting nervously between you and Joel.
Your father's gaze is fixed on Joel, his eyes narrowing as he takes in Joel's obvious concern for you. Anyone could see the way Joel feels about you, and your father's disapproval is palpable.
But you're not a child anymore, and you're tired of your father's disapproval. "Dad, I'm fine. You just startled me, that's all. Why do you always have to sneak up on me like that?" you ask, trying to keep the anger out of your voice.
Joel opens his mouth to speak, but the words don't come. He sighs and shakes his head, gathering the pieces of the broken cup and tossing them in the trash on his way out. The sound of his car speeding away speaks volumes.
"Maybe I should go," Joel suggests, but you wave off his concern.
"Don't worry about my dad. He's been weird ever since I graduated from college," you say, dismissing his concerns.
But Joel knows that your father's suspicions go back further than just this morning. He moves to help you clean up the mess on the floor, ignoring the broken glass and coffee spill. Gently, he takes your hand in his, wincing at the stinging and burn.
"Let's get this under some cold water," he says, leading you to the sink. You lean back against him as he guides your hand under the icy flow, your body yielding to his touch.
"Feel better?" he asks, his voice low and soothing. You nod, leaning into him as the cold water soothes your burn.
Joel's heart races as he holds you, feeling your warmth against him. He knows that your father doesn't approve of him, but he can't help how he feels. He's fallen for you, hard, and he's not going to let your father's disapproval get in the way.
"It feels better now," you whisper, your breath sending shivers down Joel's spine. He moves closer to you, feeling the pressure of your back against his aching cock.
"I can't help but notice how your body is responding to mine," Joel says, his voice low and husky.
"Should we start over?" he asks, leaning down so his mouth is close to your ear.
"You mean with the coffee?" you ask, playing coy. But your body is telling a different story.
"I mean starting over without your dad around," Joel clarifies, moving his hand to stroke the back of your neck.
You turn to face him, looking up into his deep brown eyes. "Just stay," you say, biting your lip.
Joel nods, his hands resting on your hips. "I'm not going anywhere, darlin'," he promises. "I'll be right next door, whenever you need me."
You stand there, close enough to kiss, but Joel holds back. He wants to savor this moment, to make it last.
"I meant what I said that day you graduated," Joel whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "You feel so fucking good."
His words send a jolt of electricity through your body. You feel his arousal pressing against your back, and he grips your hips, pulling you closer.
You plead with Joel to stay, not just because of how the morning has unfolded but because deep down, you need him by your side.
The words you long to say to Joel linger on the tip of your tongue, but the rush of emotions leaves you speechless. Your heart races as you grapple with the intensity of your feelings, unsure of how to express them.
As you run your hand under the cold water, trying to steady your nerves, you suggest preparing the spare room as a distraction. Anything to divert your thoughts and feelings that are swirling inside you.
The tension between you and Joel crackles in the air, the unspoken desire palpable. His longing mirrors your own, creating a charged atmosphere that leaves you both on edge.
"Is your hand goin' to be okay?" Joel's voice is laced with concern as he looks at you, and you nod in response.
"It's just a minor burn from the coffee," you murmur, trying to focus on the task.
"Shall I make us more coffee?" Joel offers, already cleaning up the mess on the floor. But your attention is drawn to the undeniable presence pressing against your back, sending a rush of sensations through you.
Your heart races as you realize the extent of Joel's desire, his arousal evident in every inch of his being.
"I'm not tired," Joel says, his voice low and intimate as he picks up the broken pieces of the mug.
"And I meant what I said earlier," he adds, his tone dropping to a husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.
The intensity of the moment overwhelms you, making it hard to focus on anything else. You should feel embarrassed, and remind him of boundaries, but the magnetic pull between you is undeniable.
"What did you mean?" you ask, a hint of defiance in your voice, craving his words like a drug.
His lips curl into a knowing smile as he repeats his earlier statement, his gaze lingering on you suggestively.
"You feel so good," Joel says, his words sending a surge of heat through you, your cheeks flushing with desire.
"Is that why you came back?" you inquire, emboldened by the charged atmosphere between you.
"What do you think?" Joel replies, closing the distance between you, the space crackling with unspoken promises and desires.
You feel trapped, torn between your desires and the weight of your past.
Your hands tremble as you press them against Joel's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. You slide your fingers down, curling around a button on his flannel shirt.
"My dad, for Sarah," you croak, your voice barely above a whisper. Joel takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath your touch.
"I didn't come back to town just to see your dad," he says, his voice low and steady. "But I don't want to make you uncomfortable either."
He pauses, taking another deep breath before he continues. "What I mean is, what I'm tryin’ to ask you, is could you have feelings for an older man? A man like me, maybe?"
His eyes bore into yours, a half-smile playing at the corners of his lips. You know what he's asking, and your heart races at the thought of giving in to your desires.
"I want to hear it from your lips," he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine.
You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "I like you a lot, Joel," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper.
Joel pauses, his eyes never leaving yours. "But?" he prompts, giving you an out if you need it.
You look up at Joel, your eyes pleading with him to make the decision for you. But there's no hesitation in his gaze. He leans in, pressing his warm lips against your hand, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through your body.
"Does it feel like this?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the heat that's building inside you.
"Do you really want me, darlin'?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. You moan, unable to contain your desire any longer.
"Yes," you gasp, your voice barely audible. "Yes, I want you."
Joel growls, a low, primal sound that sends shivers down your spine. He presses your hand against his stiff erection, and you can feel the heat and hardness of him through his jeans.
You trace the outline of his cock with your fingers, forgetting all about the burn on your hand, the hot coffee, and even your dad and his house. All that matters is the feel of Joel's body against yours, the heat and hardness of him that you've longed for since graduation day.
"Then come here," he growls, leaning down further and taking your face in his palm. You shudder one last breath of uncertainty before the warmth of his mouth over yours means neither of you will ever have to ask that question again.
Joel's lips are soft and tender, but his kiss is urgent and demanding. You feel yourself melting into him, your body responding to his touch with a hunger you've never felt before.
His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour, as if he's been waiting for this moment for years. You respond in kind, your hands tugging at his flannel shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.
The heat between you builds, until you're both panting and gasping for breath. Joel's hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that make you dizzy with desire.
Joel can't help himself as he lifts you up and sets you down on the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around him as he devours your mouth with his own. His hands roam your body, feeling the curves and contours of your figure as if for the first time.
You respond eagerly, your hands tangled in his hair as you deepen the kiss. Joel's touch sends waves of pleasure through your body, and you can feel yourself growing wet with desire.
Joel's hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that make you gasp with pleasure. You arch your back, pressing yourself against him as you feel his hardness against your thigh.
He makes you purr and moan, fulfilling every fantasy you've ever had. Your hands move down to his throbbing cock, gripping and squeezing him through his denim, but you both know this is just the beginning.
Joel has already crossed the line he set for himself, unable to resist the pull between you. He wants more than just a physical connection; he wants all of you, your heart, your soul, your everything.
He envisions a future with you, a life where you're by his side, where you're free to be yourself, to indulge in every desire and dream. He wants to give you a home, a place where you can be truly happy, where the two of you can explore each other endlessly.
As you catch your breath, Joel eases his hold on you, sensing the need for a moment of clarity. Your smile and the flush in your cheeks speak volumes, reassuring him that you're on the same page.
"Holy shit," you exclaim, breathless and exhilarated. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the strength and warmth of him beneath your touch.
Joel exhales slowly, realizing he may have moved too quickly for you. "Too much, darlin'?" he asks with a chuckle, relieved when you giggle and nod in agreement.
But he sees the worry in your eyes, the need for understanding and space. You grip his flannel, pulling him close for a quick kiss, your words a mix of desire and uncertainty.
"I want this... I want you, Joel. I do," you confess, your voice filled with longing and hesitation.
"Just... not right now, not like this," you trail off, and Joel finishes your sentence, understanding the need for time and space to process everything.
He lifts you off the counter, noting how light you feel in his arms. He watches you pace the kitchen, a mix of emotions playing across your face. He settles on a stool, giving you the space you need to sort through your thoughts.
"I didn't think you were leading me on, and I didn't mean to be so forward," Joel says, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Take your time, process everythin’ darlin’.”
Joel's phone buzzes in his back pocket, and he knows it's your father. He takes a deep breath and answers the call, trying to sound casual. You've stopped pacing but still look dazed, as if you're trying to process what just happened between us.
"Hey, man," Joel greets, hearing your father's voice from his car, still on his way to the office.
"Joel, I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. I guess I'm the one who needs a nap, but I can't afford the time right now," he says, sounding sincere.
Your father has always been honest and upfront, and Joel feels a mix of pride and guilt as he listens to his apology. He knows that your dad will be upset once he finds out about the two of you, but until then, Joel thinks it's best to keep your secret a little longer.
"You don't have to apologize, buddy," Joel says, trying to reassure him. "When do you finish work today?" he asks, already thinking about the time they have left alone together.
More time to take things slow? Joel isn't sure. He wants to savor every moment with you, but he also can't wait to explore every inch of your body.
As your father continues to talk, Joel watches you, his mind filled with thoughts of the two of you together. He knows that things will get complicated soon, but for now, he's happy to be in your presence, to feel your warmth and energy.
"Yeah, I'll see you then," Joel says, ending the call and turning to you. "Are you okay?" he asks, taking a step closer to you.
You nod, still looking dazed, and Joel wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. He knows that the two of you have a lot to talk about, but for now, he's content to hold you, to feel your heart beating against his chest.
The future may be uncertain, but Joel knows one thing for sure - he's never felt this way about anyone before, and he's not about to let you go.
As Joel holds you close, your head resting on his chest, you finally voice the question that's been lingering between you.
"I guess we can't do this sort of thing around my Dad, huh?" you ask, your voice soft against his skin.
Joel strokes your hair gently, his heart full of emotions he never thought he'd feel again. He marvels at how easily and perfectly this moment has unfolded, how right it feels to have you in his arms.
"We probably shouldn't, not yet," Joel replies, his voice tinged with longing. He feels you nod in agreement, and he knows that keeping this secret will be a challenge.
Joel had left town to escape the past, to build a new future for himself and his daughter Sarah. But now, as he returns to the place where it all began, he realizes that his future is intertwined with yours.
He sees a future with you, a life filled with love and possibility. He dreams of a family with you, of building something lasting and meaningful together.
As he holds you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your body against his, Joel knows that this is just the beginning.
As you and Joel waste no time getting settled in the new house, the air crackles with anticipation. Joel turns the key in the door, and as you step inside, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of desire.
Without a word, you set down his bag, and Joel takes your hand, pulling you close. He lifts you effortlessly, spinning you around in a dizzying whirl of passion and need.
The lock clicks shut, sealing you both in a world of raw desire and longing. The house feels like a sanctuary, a place where only you and Joel exist, at least for the next hour or so.
"Aren't you gonna show me around first? I had no idea the inside was so nice," you giggle, your head spinning from the intensity of his touch and the day's events.
"I thought you might like to show me around... your sweet fuckin’ body," Joel rasps in your ear before claiming your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss. Each touch, each kiss, ignites a fire within you, driving you to the edge of reason.
"You tell me if it gets too much, alright darlin'?" Joel murmurs between kisses, his strong arms wrapped around you. You nod eagerly, your body craving his touch, his presence.
With your legs wrapped around his waist, you gravitate towards the nearest soft surface, a luxurious leather sofa in the living room. Joel stops in front of it, but you're consumed by the need for him, the hunger for his touch.
You try to nod, talk, and kiss him all at once, but the overwhelming desire he stirs in you leaves you breathless and unable to form coherent words. "Yeah... fuck... yes, I will," you pant, your body arching into his touch as he explores every inch of you.
Joel lowers you onto the couch, his eyes fixed on you with a hunger that matches your own. He drops to his knees in front of you, parting your legs with a firm grip, his gaze locked on your body with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.
“I’m gonna eat your little pussy, make you come until you beg me to stop,” he says in a firm tone.
His hands move with purpose, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you. You gasp and groan as he explores every inch of you, his fingers and tongue setting your body ablaze with pleasure.
As he delves deeper, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony, you feel a wave of pleasure building within you, each touch pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.
You writhe and moan under his touch, your body responding to his every move with a hunger that matches his own. The room fills with the sounds of your pleasure, the air thick with desire and need.
His elbows prop your knees wide, and half-reclined on the worn leather, you can't help but feel a thrill at the sensations coursing through your body.
The scent of old leather and his cologne mingles with the musk of your arousal, creating a heady mix that only heightens your desire. You're ready for Joel, and you know it won't take long for him to bring you to the edge.
With a rough yank, he tears your panties aside, the sound of fabric rending adding to your arousal. You never knew you could feel this horny, and every moment with Joel only intensifies your desire.
He takes a moment to admire your slick folds, his thick fingers gently parting your lips. You grip his silver-flecked curls tighter as he moves down to taste you, your body trembling with anticipation.
Your moans fill the room, mingling with Joel's deep groans of pleasure. His tongue finds its mark, and you can't help but cry out, your body writhing under his touch.
Joel's mouth covers you completely, his tongue replacing his fingers as he explores every inch of your sex. You're on the brink of climax, your body trembling with need.
"Be patient, darlin'," Joel whispers hoarsely, his voice filled with desire. He grips your thighs, pushing them wider apart until his massive head is pressed between them.
You shift your grip to his broad shoulders, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.
"Joel... Joel," you moan, trying to tell him how close you are, how much you want him. But all that comes out are animalistic sounds of pleasure.
Joel's body quakes with silent laughter, his voice deep and reassuring as he promises you can come all night. You trace the outline of his jaw, your body trembling with need as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.
If heaven exists, you're sure you've found it in Joel's arms.
AN: I'm such a fool to think that this would be a one-shot... ya'll this is now a mini-series. Don't worry... this will be a two to three-chapter kinda series. 🤍
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fic#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x reader series#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader tlou#dbf!joel#dbf!joel miller x reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedrostories#pedro pascal character fanfic
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Fic Recommendations
These are some of the fics that I've read that I have been left thinking about months after!
Please check these fics for trigger warnings and 18+ content at your discretion!
Joel Miller
Wasteland, Baby! by "LittleR13"
Plum by @thyme-in-a-bubble
Letters and Sketches by "kay_erin"
Never Let Me Down by "elmapache"
The Wolf and the Moon by @misspearly1
Finders Keepers by @xokiwistarship
Blue Jeans n Texas Dreams by @tightjeansjavi
Cruel Summer by @proxima-writes
Din Djarin
A Fresh Start by @theidiotwhowritesthings
Ours by "tangerinefilm"
Of Love and Time by @pentechics
*Naboo Nuptial which is my own work
Frankie "Catfish" Morales
No More by @albertasunrise
Infernal Hearts by "honeymandos"
In a Week by "notanotherquarantinefanfic"
Near the Waters by "paisley_print"
Green Mountain State by "pedro_djarin"
Javier Pena
The Crush by @the-ginger-hedge-witch
Not a Piece of Art by "notanotherquarantinefanfic"
Maybe Today, Maybe Forever by @freedomatsea
Learning to Live by @wheresarizona
The Meeting Place by @absurdthirst, @wardenparker
Just Dumb Enough to Try by "glitter_diety"
You're my Best Friend by @autumnleaves1991-blog
*Hoofprints which is my own work
*I couldn't find everyone's blogs, please let me know if I didn't tag you! And feel free to send your recs my way to add to the list.*
#din djarin x you#the mandalorian#pedro pascal fic#din djarin fluff#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller age gap#narcos#the last of us#pedro pascal#din djarin x female reader#frankie morales fluff#frankie morales#francisco morales#frankie morales fanfiction#javier pena x reader#javier pena fluff#javier pena fic#javier pena age gap#javier pena series#javier peña x y/n#javier pena#javi pena#pedro pascal characters#fic rec#fanfic rec#joel miller smut#dbf! joel smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fluff
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Hello everyone! this month was both fast and stressful for me, so much so I remembered this morning that I haven't made a rec list which is why this is posted on the second and not the first. Thank you to all the amazing writers who give us stunning stories that we can find comfort in. Love you all 💜💜💜
please show your support by commenting and/or reblogging!
categories include: pedro pascal characters (pero tovar, ezra, frankie morales, marcus pike, jack daniels, jack daniels, din djarin, tim rockford, frankie morales, javier p), the last of us (joel miller) marvel (steven grant, tasm!peter parker)
as always don't forget to check the warnings before reading!
click here for last months fic recommendations
PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS
Bekväm by @whataperfectwasteoftime (ezra)
spring fling by @/whataperfectwasteoftime (marcus pike)
Between the Raindrops by @jazzelsaur (frankie morales | series)
Pretty Please by by @/jazzelsaur (dieter bravo)
home is wherever i’m with you by @saradika (din djairn | series)
Learned Something New by @wheresarizona (jack daniels)
mando + breeding drabble by @the-scandalorian (din djarin)
you make loving fun by @redahlia-writes (frankie morales | series)
Relaxation Techniques by @mandoblowmybackout (marcus pike)
Psychomanteum by @whatsnewalycat (dieter bravo | series)
weeknights drabble by @frannyzooey (frankie morales | series)
Only Backwards by @pennyserenade (dieter bravo)
untitled by @boliv-jenta (tim rockford)
neon demons by @pedrito-friskito (javier p)
kudzu by @beskarberry (ezra)
Jack Daniels x tattoo parlour AU by @fuckyeahdindjarin (jack daniels)
Dieter Bravo x Roommates AU by @/fuckyeahdindjarin
Saturday’s with Javier: Sleepless Nights by @wildemaven (javi p)
The Secrets We Keep… by @/wildemaven (dave york)
Meant To Be by @radiowallet (oberyn martell | series)
untitled by @intheorangebedroom (frankie morales)
Sex, Lies and Videotapes by @astroboots (frankie morales, santiago garcia)
More Sex, No Lies but still a Videotape by @/astroboots (frankie morales, santiago garcia)
indecently dishonest by @lavendertales (javier p)
one step at a time by @foli-vora (pero tovar | series)
little black dress by @inklore (javier p)
warm up by @ezrasbirdie (dieter bravo)
Rockford & Roan by @littlemisspascal (tim rockford | series)
TLOU
Break by @toomanystoriessolittletime
Short Days, Long Nights by @frannyzooey
start carvin', darlin' by @nexusnyx
Threads by @fuckyeahdindjarin
Adjustments by @softlyspector
Old soul by @/softlyspector
surrender by @ezrasbirdie (series)
MARVEL
Cherry Lips by @astroboots (steven grant)
'til kingdom come by @pedrito-friskito (tasm!peter parker)
#.sil's monthly fic recs#april recs#fic recs#joel miller x reader#din djarin x reader#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#steven grant x reader#frankie morales x reader
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Chapter 10, Pt. 1: Happy Birthday, Javi
Summary: Javier Peña has never liked celebrating his birthday. That is, until you came into his life, and planned to give him a birthday that he will never forget. (Part 1 covers leading up to Javi's birthday and the morning of)
Word Count: 9.3K (I don't know how my peanut brain thought I could make his birthday only one chapter and keep it a reasonable length)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up, y'all), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise, overstimulation (if you squint), anal fingering (f receiving *runs away into the sunset*), Javi being our consent king, Javi really just loving your ass (It's his birthday, give the man what he wants), mentions of death/grief (but in a really sweet, wholesome way), mentions of food/eating, Chucho Peña once again being the world's best dad and you two having the cutest lil bonding moment, sweet tooth-rotting fluff (but it's these two, so would you expect nothing less?)
A/N: The people have spoken, so I now present to you, part 1 of Chapter 10. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I started writing this chapter, I knew it was about to be long as hell because our sweet Javi deserves the best birthday ever, and boy oh boy, is he gonna get it. Also keep in mind as you read this, that I will die on the hill that Javi loves all of you, but is 100% an ass man though and through don't make eye contact with me after reading this, man deserves his lil birthday treat More birthday fun is coming soon!!! Thanks to the very talented @wheresarizona for the inspiration of this birthday smut!
Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter
“New boots?”
“No.”
“A new briefcase for work?”
“No.”
“A pony? A trip to the moon? A million dollars? C’mon Javi, it’s gonna be your birthday, there has to be at least something that you want!” You groaned, playfully hitting Javi’s chest as your warm bodies laid tangled together in your bedsheets, sunlight just beginning to spill through your curtains.
“As long as I get to spend my day with you, that’s all I care about, Osita.” He chuckled at your stubbornness, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead.
“Ugh, you being so sweet is making this very hard on me, you realize that?” You sighed dramatically, giving him your best grumpy face as you ran your hands through the dark brown curls of his messy morning bedhead. “Alright, you have to go get ready for work, what do you want for breakfast, handsome?”
“You.” He rasped, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you and nipping at your neck, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your skin making you squeal and squirm.
“Javi! Real food, you dummy. You’ve already eaten me out and and we’ve fucked this morning and it’s not even 7:00 o’clock yet. At this rate, your work is gonna start writing me up for you getting in later and later every day.” You giggled as you tried to wrestle your way out of Javi’s strong grip, your bodies intertwined with the sheets of your bed as Javi finally let go, giving you a long kiss before letting out an exaggerated sigh.
“I thought you said you still needed to figure out what to get me for my birthday. This works just fine, Hermosa.” He looked at you, trying to give you his best puppy eyes and pouty lips. You lovingly swatted your arm at him, shaking your head.
“You cannot use your puppy dog eyes on me like that! Your birthday still isn’t for another week, and believe me, you will get all the birthday sex you want then, but right now, you need to go get ready for work, mmmkay? Do you want scrambled eggs or sunny side up?”
“How did you know I wanted eggs?” He asked, smiling at you.
“It’s almost kind of like I know you, just a little bit. Now go, get your cute butt in the shower before your puppy dog eyes take full effect and I lose the little self control I have left.” You gave him a quick kiss as he rolled out of bed, the muscles of his back flexing deliciously as he yawned and stretched his arms above his head before making his way into the bathroom.
From the moment you had found out about Javi's birthday, he had been very adamant that you didn’t need to do anything special to try and celebrate, let alone get him any gifts. To him, it was just another day that he got older, and that no one needed to do anything to acknowledge that. Truth be told, Javi hadn’t really had anyone to celebrate his birthday with since he was a much younger man than he was now. When he was in Colombia, the only person he had told about his birthday was Steve, and with the threat of beating the shit out of him if he told anyone else, the most Javi ever got for the past decade or so was Steve’s annual bottle of birthday whisky and a phone call from his dad. He wasn’t used to anyone caring about him, let alone his birthday. Javi knew that you were a terrible liar and couldn’t keep a secret to save your life, so you had been trying your best to throw him off your tracks for the past few weeks by asking things like what he wanted for his birthday, or what he wanted to do to celebrate. Little did he know, you already had a plan in place to give him the best birthday that he’d had in a very, very long time. Today, you had to try and execute the next phase of your birthday plot, which required a little luck, and finding Javi’s cell phone.
Once you heard the water of the shower running, you knew you were in the clear. You shuffled over to Javi’s side of the bed, where his pants from the night before were still laying in a heap on the floor. Digging through his back pocket, you pulled out his cell phone, opening it up to press through the contacts page. “I really hope he only knows one Steve…” you mumbled to yourself as your finger clicked on the down arrow, scrolling through the names on the tiny screen. “Samuel H… Sargent Davis… Oh yes, here we go! Steve!” You were relieved to find there was only one Steve saved in his phone, assuming that it had to be his former partner Steve Murphy. You quickly ran out to the kitchen to grab a notepad and a pen to scribble down his number before closing his phone and folding the piece of paper, stashing it away in your nightstand.
After you had opened up to Javi about your brother, Patrick, he slowly started to reciprocate, letting you dive deeper into his past life in Colombia, beginning to share stories from his time halfway around the world. One of the things you had quickly picked up on was how much he really liked his former DEA partner, despite how many times he had told you he was the biggest pain in his ass he had ever met. So much so, that a few weeks ago, Javi had gone out of his way to call Steve, just to catch up and talk, learning that his friend had moved to the San Antonio area not too long ago, looking to get away from the hustle and bustle of Miami. The conversation had ended with them saying they should get together at some point, and the party you had been planning for Javi seemed like just the right occasion to try and reunite him with his old friend. The plan was to try and call him today while Javi was at work and pray that he really was the right Steve you were looking for, and that he and his family would be able to come down and celebrate.
Satisfied with your mission, you slipped on one of Javi’s now many shirts that lived in your drawers, his collection of clothes at your apartment seeming to grow by the week as the two of you spent more and more time together. You headed out to the kitchen, pouring yourself your mandatory cup of coffee before you got to work on breakfast.
As Javi made his way down the hall, freshly showered and suited up for work, he leaned up against the wall, enjoying the new favorite part of his morning routine. It didn’t take long for Javi to start spending practically every night at your apartment once the two of you had started dating, his presence in your home becoming an almost permanent fixture in your day to day life. It took even less time for Javi to quickly discover there were few things he loved more than coming into the kitchen after he had showered and gotten himself ready for work to find you in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts, singing along to whatever music you had picked for the morning as you cooked breakfast. It had now become ingrained as his favorite part of his morning, taking a few extra minutes just to lean against the kitchen wall and stare, taking in everything about your sweet and sassy self that made his heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest every time he watched you dance and sing around the kitchen. This morning’s choices were his navy blue DEA shirt and Hall and Oats, already finding you singing louder than usual to “You Make My Dreams Come True.”
“Someone’s in a good mood this morning.” He chuckled, standing behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin against your shoulder as he watched you scramble the eggs in the pan below you.
“Well it’s hard to be in a bad mood when you wake up to getting dicked down by your super hot boyfriend who comes out of the shower in his stupidly attractive suits for work.” You giggled as he kissed your shoulder, giving your ass a playful smack. “I could say the same for you, ya goof.”
“Like you said Osita, hard to be in a bad mood when you wake up next to the most beautiful woman in the world and come out to find her making you breakfast in nothing but your shirt. The sex part’s alright too, I guess.” You nudged your elbow into his stomach as you both laughed.
“Oh please, like you weren’t practically begging me to go for a second round this morning. Here, eat your breakfast, you horny menace.” You giggled as you put the finished eggs on a plate and handed them off to him.
Per usual, Javi had already almost inhaled his food by the time you sat down to eat with him, taking a big mouthful of your eggs as he cleared his plate. “Any plans for today, Osita?” He asked, taking a sip of coffee out of the Star Wars mug that had now become his personal favorite after had finished watching the last of the 3 movies a few weeks ago.
“Just some errands and stuff.” You tried your best to keep a straight face, knowing that you weren’t really lying about your plans for today, but you also weren’t exactly telling the truth. “Should probably start working on getting stuff ready for going back to school. I need to accept the fact that summer’s gonna come to an end at some point, as much as I don’t want it to.” You shrugged, trying to change the subject of Javi’s initial question. “Your complimentary breakfast and lunch every morning may not be as frequent once I have to go back to work, so I apologize in advance.”
“No need to apologize, baby. You’ve spoiled me for the past few months. Just means I get to wake up early and make you breakfast now.” He stood up, grabbing his plate to bring it over to the sink, stopping first to give you a kiss on the forehead. After cleaning up, Javi downed the rest of his coffee and gathered his things to head out the door, preparing for the second favorite part of his morning, giving you one last hug and kiss goodbye before leaving for work. “Have a great day, Osita. Can’t wait to see you later. I love you.” He draped his arms around you, hugging you from behind as you still sat in your kitchen chair, planting a kiss on your cheek as you turned around to face him.
“Love you too, Jav. Have a good day.” You stretched your neck towards him as he leaned down, your lips meeting softly and tenderly, leaving smiles on your parted mouths as you pulled away. Closing the door behind him, you gave him a soft smirk, the both of you beginning your internal countdown of the hours that needed to pass until you saw each other again.
As soon as you heard the door lock, you waited a moment before you ran back to your room, grabbing the piece of paper with Steve’s phone number, hoping it was early enough to try and catch him before he got to work. You took a deep breath, wanting to make a good first impression on Javi's friend, even if it was just over the phone. You punched the numbers written on your note into the keypad, sitting on the couch as you let the dial tone ring.
“Hello?” a low voice with a pronounced twang answered.
“Hi, is this um, is this Steve?” You asked, anxiously chewing on your bottom lip, crossing your fingers that you had the right number written down from Javi’s contacts.
“Yeah, this is Steve. Who’s askin’? Sorry, gimme one sec- Hey Connie, Olivia wants to know if she’s stayin’ late for soccer practice today. Okay, yeah, I’ll remind her. Hey sorry, tryin’ to get the girls off to summer camp and daycare or God knows where. Jesus, I cannot wait for school to start again. Sorry, who’d you say you were?” You let out a little sigh of relief hearing Connie and Olivia’s names, knowing you for sure had the right Steve.
“I’m um, I’m Javi’s girlfriend.” You introduced yourself.
“Well I’ll be damned. You really are real.” You could hear him chuckle to himself through the other end of the phone. “Javi wouldn’t shut up about you when we talked a few weeks ago. I’d never thought I’d live to see the day I saw that man so in love. What can I help ya with?” You smiled to yourself, blushing at the fact Javi hadn’t talked to Steve in months and you were the thing he was most excited to bring up.
“Well, I heard from Javi last time the two of you talked that you moved to San Antonio not too long ago. I don’t know if you remember, but Javi’s birthday is coming up, and I’m trying to throw him a surprise birthday party and I wanted to invite you. I’m sure he’d love to see you- Connie and your daughters, too. The party’s going to be Saturday the 16th at 3:00 at his dad’s ranch! I completely understand that it’s a big ask, and kind of last minute, but I figured I’d at least try!”
“Awh shit, it is, isn’t it. I do owe that old man a few years worth of birthday whiskey. Lemme go talk to my wife real quick, hang on.” You heard him set the phone down as you held your phone up between your ear and shoulder, grabbing your notepad to write down a list of things you needed to get today while you waited for Steve’s response. “Hey, you still there?” You heard his voice again through the receiver.
“Yup, still here!”
“Looks like that old man’s about to have some more birthday guests. Con just wants to make sure it’s really okay if we bring the girls.”
“Absolutely! Lots of friends and family are coming, so there will be plenty of other kids there, too! Thanks Steve, I know this will really mean a lot to him.”
“Perfect. I sure do miss that asshole. Thanks for the invite. I guess we’ll see you on the 16th.”
“Thanks again, Steve!”
“Of course. And hey- I wasn’t jokin’ when I said that he wouldn’t shut up about you. You got him head over heels in love. I think I could count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen that grumpy bastard smile and I could practically hear him grinnin’ through the phone. Glad to know he found someone who makes him happy.” You could hear the other end of the line click as Steve hung up the phone, leaving you with nothing but an ear to ear grin as you grabbed your list and got yourself ready for the day.
You had really been putting Javi’s lie detector skills to the test the past few weeks, going out during the day to meet with Chucho at the ranch to work together to plan Javi’s surprise party. Javi’s dad was absolutely thrilled with the idea after you had brought it up in secrecy one night when you and Javi had gone over for dinner, and was enthusiastic as can be to try and help you make the day a special memory for his son. Today was the last day you could be over at the Peña ranch to help with preparations without raising too many suspicions from Javi, losing out on your excessive free time as you needed to start preparing for the beginning of the new school year. Heading in with your arms full from your massive trip you had just taken for party food and decorations, you walked into the Peña home looking for Chucho.
“Hey Chucho, it’s me!” You shouted, kicking your shoes off at the door as you balanced your grocery bags in your arms.
“Hola, Mija! I’m in the kitchen!” He shouted from across the house, his tone warm and joyful. You grunted as you set down your bags on the table, finding Chucho in his usual spot at the stove, cooking something for the two of you to eat as you talked party details.
“What’s on the menu today, chef? It smells delicious!” You smiled, unpacking the groceries as Chucho wiped his hands on his apron, waddling over to help you.
“Chilaquiles. Figured it’s still early enough for breakfast food, and I know it’s your favorite.” He chuckled to himself as he watched you pull more and more items out of the brown paper bags. “Dios mio, mija. Did you buy the entire store?”
“It feels like it. With how many people we have coming, I don’t even know if this is going to be enough! Steve is coming, too! And his wife and daughters. I just called him today. I really think Javi’s gonna be excited to see him.” You grinned, your heart feeling full thinking about how many people wanted to come celebrate Javi on his birthday.
“Oh, estupendo! (Wonderful!) He will be thrilled. Wait, how did you manage to invite him without Javier finding out?” He raised an eyebrow at you as he walked back over to the stove to turn off one of the burners.
“I have my ways.” You smirked as you gave your shoulders a little shrug, organizing the items on the table.
“Chiflado.” (Crazy). He snickered, plopping an egg on each of your plates over the fried tortillas and sauce. “That one can be our word for the day. It’s a good one. Here, eat, mija.” He smiled, passing a plate over to you as you sat down at the table, Chucho pulling out a chair to join you. Ever since you started meeting with Chucho a few weeks ago, you had asked him if he would help you work on your Spanish, knowing how important it was to Javi and his family. You cared so deeply for both the Peña men who were now a part of your life, and the least you could do was learn more of the language so deeply ingrained in their identities. Like most things you asked Chucho for help with, he was enamored by the idea, your request practically bringing him to tears. Since then, he’d been helping you learn more words and phrases, picking one to focus on each time you meet.
“Chiflado.” You repeated, taking a bite full of your food. “What does that one mean?”
“Someone who is crazy, a little bit nutty. It’s a good one for you, mija, and Javier.” You both laughed at each other, enjoying his use of the word.
“That is a good one. Good one for me and you today since this is the last chance we have to plan together before the party.”
“Es la verdad.” (It’s the truth.) So tell me, Chiflado, what’s our plan for today?” He winked at you as he set down his fork over his already cleared plate.
“Well, I was thinking you could work on food, and I could help with decorations, since it’ll involve a lot of getting up and down off of chairs, and before you can tell me you’d be just fine, I don’t need to hear you whisper “Punta madre, me dulele las rodillas (Motherfucker, my knees hurt.) all day when I could have just done it for you.” You looked at him sternly, knowing that Javi had definitely inherited his stubbornness from his father, often leaving you in Chucho in a battle of iron wills over helping each other.
“Fine, fine, fine.” He swatted his hand at you. “Just tell me soy un anciano (I’m an old man) and move on.” The both of you broke from your stubbornness, laughing playfully at one another. Chucho grunted as he stood up, outstretching his hand to take your plate back to the sink. You stood up out of your chair, pushing it behind you as you let out a quiet, nervous breath. You had been working up the courage to ask Chucho the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind for the past few weeks. Every time you tried, you’d chickened out, but with only one last meeting between the two of you before Javi’s birthday, you knew you had to do it now.
“Um, there is uh, one more thing I wanted to ask for your help with, if it’s okay.” You said shyly, Chucho turning his head in confusion at your now meak voice.
“Of course, Mija. Cómo puedo ayudarte? (How can I help you?).
“I- I wanted to know if Javi had a favorite food his mom used to make him before she passed. I really wanted to surprise him and make it for his birthday. But I know how special Lucia’s recipes are to you, and if you don’t want me to make it, I totally understand. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, I wanted to ask for your help since-”
Before you could finish, Chucho was standing with his arms outstretched, tears welling in his eyes, as he pulled you in for a hug, tightly wrapping you in his grasp. “Oh Mija.” He whispered between gentle sobs. “I would love nothing more.” He took a step back from you, hands still grasping your shoulders as the wrinkles of his worn face crinkled from his smile. “She would have loved you, Mija. She would have loved you so much. I know she is smiling down on us, knowing the joy you have brought to our sweet Javier’s life. Dios la bendiga (God bless her), all she ever wanted was for him to be happy. It brings me peace to know she can rest a little easier, seeing the love and happiness you bring to our hijo. I know Javier is so thankful he found you, but know I am just as thankful, too.”
You could feel the tears beginning to stream down your cheeks as Chucho spoke. You wished you had words to tell him how much it meant. That you were so grateful to be a part of Javi’s life, so thankful that Chucho had loved and accepted you, like you were one of his own from the moment that you two had met. You wished you could tell him how honored you were that he thought so highly of you, when all you wanted to do was just make Javi happy. You wished you had those words, but right now, they couldn’t make it out. The best you could do through your tears was pull Chucho back in for a hug, letting out a shaky whisper.
“Thank you, Chucho. For everything.”
He pulled back once more, the both of you wiping the tears off your wet cheeks as you smiled at one another. “Of course, mija. Of course.” He paused for a moment to compose himself before wiping his hands on his apron with a mischievous grin. “Tears won’t taste any good in our stew. C’mon, let’s get cooking.”
Chucho pulled the well loved recipe box out of the shelf above the stove, flipping through its contents to pull out an index card covered in red sauce stains and tears around its edges. “Here we are. Pozole de pollo. Javier’s favorite dish. This is the last one from Lucia’s box I've yet to make.” He smiled to himself, gently holding the tattered recipe card in his hands before passing it off to you.
“Why haven’t you made it yet?” You asked curiously as you ran your finger up and down the worn recipe card.
“It’s the one that reminds me the most of her. Just haven’t been able to bring myself to make it. Now, I couldn’t be more excited to.” He beamed at you, grin stretched from ear to ear.
The two of you quickly got to work, Chucho walking you through each step, mentally noting to yourself all of the little details he pointed out as you worked your way through the directions. You wanted to make sure that you didn’t miss a thing, feeling the need to do the special recipe as much justice as you could. While waiting for things to boil and simmer, the two of you found yourself chatting away as you chopped the rest of the vegetables you needed for your sauce and garnishes.
“You know, pozole de pollo was the only thing Javier ever wanted to eat when he came home from college.” Chucho chuckled, chopping up the rest of the garlic he had in front of him. “Could eat a whole batch of it in a day, a bowl for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Even in the dead heat of summer.”
“I believe it, that man is an eating machine.” You giggled, pulling out the chiles you’d finished soaking for your sauce. “Did he know he wanted to work for the DEA when he graduated?”
“I don’t know if he knew that, but he did always want to have some sort of job where he felt like he was making a difference. Always had a strong sense of right and wrong, and always wanted to help others. Lucia and I weren’t thrilled when he got the job, no parent wants to think about their child in danger. But you know as well as I do that our Javier is a stubborn man, and if he wants something, there is no stopping him until he gets it. That’s how I knew he was in love with you. Wouldn’t stop talking about you from the moment he met you. For goodness sake, he woke up at 5 in the morning to build a fence just to see you. He’s a man who knows what he wants.” You tried your best to hide the red of your blushing cheeks as Chucho blended the pozole sauce. “That’s how I know he is counting down the days until he can ask you to marry him.”
You just about dropped your ladle into the pot of boiling broth you were now stirring, hoping Chucho hadn’t heard the audible gasp you had made. “What… What did you say?” You asked as you gulped, trying to keep your cool.
“You heard what I said, Mija.” Chucho smirked, clearly enjoying your current flustered state. “Don’t worry, he hasn’t said anything to me… Yet. But like I said, when Javier knows what he wants, he won’t stop until he gets it. I’m sure if I asked him, he’d say he’ll give it a year, but I give it 6 months, tops.”
This time, the ladle you had been white knuckle grasping had now fallen to the floor, your face in absolute shock as your hand covered your face. “Wait, do you, are you… Chucho, are you being serious?”
“Mija, all I know is that Javier está enloquecido por ti y el te ama con todo su corazón. (Javier is crazy for you and loves you with his whole heart) and I am not getting any younger. I need some nietos (grandchildren) to spoil before I get too old.” His grin now even bigger as he chuckled to himself, watching your cheeks turn bright pink, taking every ounce of self restraint you had in you to keep yourself from smiling like an idiot. You bit down on your bottom lip, Chucho letting you have a few moments of peace as you turned back around to the stove to stir the pozole. Chucho just kept shaking his head and laughing to himself, almost as if he could hear the squeals of delight screaming in your head through the quiet silence of the kitchen as you continued cooking.
“Alright Mija, what do you think?” Chucho said, handing over a spoon now that the pozole was finally finished, simmering in its pot on the stove. You scooped some up, slurping down the warm broth as Chucho followed suit, letting out a satisfied hum.
“It’s delicious. No wonder it’s Javi’s favorite. What do you think? Is it okay?” You looked at him nervously, waiting for his response as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Just as good as I remember it, if not better. Javier will love it, almost as much as he loves you.” He winked, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulder, smiling at the stew and then back up at you. “I have a feeling this will be the best birthday that he’s had in a very long time, thanks to you. Now, what do you say you listen to this old man swear at his knees as he helps you put up these decorations?”
You couldn’t believe it. Javi’s birthday was finally here, and everything had gone off without a hitch. Chucho had called one last time yesterday to let you know that everything was ready for the party, you had successfully hidden all your gifts and surprises in the apartment without them being discovered, and best of all, Javi hadn’t suspected a thing. You had made sure the night before to set your alarm to its quietest volume, praying that Javi wouldn’t hear and would sleep in long enough to let you put up some decorations in the apartment before making him breakfast and giving him a proper birthday good morning. Seemingly unstirred by your alarm, you tiptoed out of bed, trying your best not to wake Javi as he snored face down into his pillow. You grabbed some clothes before carefully closing the door behind you, fingers crossed that you could at least get another 30 minutes of sleep out of him. You quickly got to work taping the streamers and banners along the ceiling, topping off your decor with the balloons you had someone managed to hide in your coat closet. After setting out your gifts on the table, you quickly got to work on breakfast, indulging in your own family’s birthday tradition of confetti pancakes, which were really just pancakes with sprinkles and whip cream, but given Javi’s insatiable sweet tooth, you were sure they’d be a hit. You started with pancakes, along with the bacon and eggs, so focused on trying to get things done as quickly as possible, you hadn’t heard your bedroom door creek open down the hallway. Javi’s footsteps were soft and sleepy, the carpet of your apartment floors drowning out the sound as he finally stepped into the living room, speechless at what he saw.
“Osita…” His voice shook, mouth hanging half open in shock as he looked around at the colorful streamers and balloons that filled the apartment. He took another step further into the living room, now noticing the handmade banner that read “Happy Birthday, Javi!” in your cute, neat handwriting. He was still at a loss for words as he turned the corner in the kitchen to find you, finishing the last of your pancakes for the breakfast feast you had put together for him.
“No, go back to bed! Don’t look, I’m almost done! You didn’t see anything!” You ran towards him, trying your best to turn Javi around and force him back towards the bedroom. You pushed against his chest, trying to get him to move as he stood there for a moment before wrapping his arms around you, still taking in everything that you had set up for him.
“Baby… Did you… Is this… Is this all for me?” He asked, eyes glistening with joy, as he turned his head down to you, smiling in his grasp.
“No, I just really wanted to celebrate my birthday early. Yes, of course it’s for you. But right now, I need you to go back to bed for like 5 more minutes so I can finish and get my first present ready, pretty please?” You grinned at the tender expression on his face as he tried to process that you had really gone out of your way to do all of this for him.
“Baby, I told you, you didn’t need to get me anything, you already did so much, you don’t need to-”
“Javier Peña. It is your birthday. I want nothing more than to shower you with love and gifts and affection, but only if you go back into the bedroom and wait a teeny tiny bit longer and pretend it’s not your birthday yet for another few minutes.” You giggled, now shoving back into him, attempting to push his broad body down the hallway. He finally gave in, throwing his hands up, laughing as you guided him back into the bedroom, giving him a quick peck on the lips before closing the door behind him.
As promised, it didn’t take long for you to get yourself ready for Javi’s first present of the day, slowly opening back up the bedroom door to find Javi laying down in the bed, elbow resting on the mattress with his hand under his chin holding up his head. “You ready for it to be your birthday now?” You giggled, peeking your head through the crack of the open door.
“Yes, baby, I’m ready for it to be my- Oh, fuck me.” By the time you had made it through the doorway, Javi was sitting upright in bed, jaw just about on the floor as he watched you enter the room. You stood at the end of the bed in a lacy, black lingerie set- the bustier hugging against every curve of your body, its garters holding up the stockings pulled up your thighs, topped off with a strappy lace thong. You could hear how heavy Javi was breathing as he watched your every move towards him, his tongue darting out between his lips as he looked you up and down, soaking up every inch of you.
“Happy Birthday, Javi.” You winked, making your way towards the edge of the bed, watching as Javi’s eyes grow darker with lust. Your sweet voice was enough to already make his cock start to twitch, but that, paired with the fact you were all dressed up just for him had him half hard in seconds.
“Hermosa… Fuck… You look fucking incredible. Is this all for me, baby? Do I get to unwrap you like the pretty little present you are?” He rasped, practically climbing over the edge of the mattress to pull you into bed with him. He grabbed you by the hand, ushering you up onto the bed as you straddled over his lap, feeling how hard and heavy his dick had grown beneath you in his boxers. His hands slid along your sides, fingers tracing over the lacy fabric before he reached down to grab a handful of your ass, kneading your soft flesh between the strong grip of his fingertips.
“I don’t know… I thought you said that you didn’t want any presents.” You teased, Javi giving you a playful smack on the ass for your witty remark.
“If this is the only present I get to unwrap for the rest of my life, I’ll die a fucking happy man.” He mewled, grabbing your hips as he pushed you deeper into his lap, groaning as you rolled your hips against his cock, straining against the fabric of his underwear.
“Don’t worry, this one’s just the first of many. You can unwrap me however you want, birthday boy. Anything you want, I’m all yours.” Your words made him shutter as he looked up at you, a curious smirk growing under his mustache.
“Anything?” He whispered, licking his lips, his eyes filled with want and desire.
“Anything.” You cooed, raising your eyebrows at him.
“Fuck me…” He took one more look at you before grabbing you and flipping you on to your back, making you squeal. He kissed his way down your body, hot, wet presses of his lips against your skin and lace, covering you from your chest to your stomach. His hands ran up and down the meat of your thighs, fingers toying with the ends of your stockings before wrapping his arms under your legs, yanking you closer to him. He grazed his fingers over your thong, the fabric already soaked, as he pushed it to the side, revealing the slick pooling along your entrance.
“Jesus, Osita, haven’t even touched you yet and look at how wet you are for me. Fuck, I need to taste you, baby.” Spreading your legs open wider, he dove into your pussy like a man starved, feverishly lapping you up, tongue swirling and pressing against your already throbbing clit. It wasn’t long until his two fingers pushed inside you with ease, making you gasp as your back arched along the bed, whimpering at the way his mouth and hands worked against your heat.
“Javiiiii…” You whined, bucking your hips towards his face, already feeling the arousal starting to pool in your belly at the way he knew just how to make you come undone. “Baby, you feel so good, fuck, Javi, fuck.”
He removed his mouth for a moment, his breath hot against your sensitive bundle of nerves as he glanced up at you in delight. “Yeah? It feels good, Hermosa? Gonna be a good girl and cum all over my face, let me taste that sweet fucking pussy?” You nodded frantically, practically feeling his smirk against you as his fingers curved, hitting the sweet spot inside you that had the heat building at the base of your spine. He licked long, flat strokes of his tongue against your clit, his hand thrusting deeper into you, moaning his name over and over as you squirmed underneath him, his free arm draping over your hips, holding you in place. You could feel how tightly you were beginning to clench around his hand, your pussy fluttering as you felt yourself reaching your high.
“Javi, Javi, Javiiiii.” His name the only words forming as your brain short circuited, coming closer and closer to your end.
“Keep saying my name, baby. I love the way you say it. Don’t hold back, Hermosa, let me hear how good it feels when I make you cum.” It only took a few more thrusts of his hand before you snapped, crying out his name as your pleasure rolled through you, your fists grasping at the bed sheets. You cunt clenched around him, squeezing his fingers as they still pulsed inside you, nowhere close to easing from their usual pace after Javi watched you fall apart beneath him. You could feel yourself panting, worked up and on the edge of overstimulation.
“Gonna give you one more, Osita. Doing so good for me, pretty girl. I know you can take it, baby, just a little bit more.” He purred, giving you a smug look before barely pressing his thumb against your clit, making you cry out from his touch, so sensitive and worked up from your first orgasm. The pad of his thumb pushed just a little bit harder, circling around your mound as you felt yourself on the brink of falling apart once more. Already so close, he slipped a third finger into your heat, the sweet stretch of his digits inside you making you lose yourself once more. Your moans were swallowed by his lips as he leaned down to kiss you, finally slowing his pace before removing his hand, leaving your legs trembling and breathing heavy as you tried to compose yourself. “Such a good girl, taking me so well.” He hummed, cradling the jaw of your blissed out face as he brought his other hand to your mouth, his fingers drenched and glistening from your slick. “Open.” His thumb pulled at your bottom lip as you complied. “Taste how sweet you are for me, baby. Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever had, and it’s all fucking mine.” Your tongue swirled around his fingers as they rested in your mouth, sucking the tangy taste of you off of them before pulling back out.
“It’s all yours, Javi. It’s all yours.” You moaned, finally catching your breath enough to form a coherent thought.
“You really meant it, Osita? Anything I want?” His hands running up and down the length of your body, taking in how beautiful you looked beneath him, lace covered and blissed out, all for him.
“Anything you want.” You repeated, the sweet brown gaze of his eyes locking with yours.
“Hands and knees, baby.” He smirked, grabbing you by the waist as he pulled you up, propping you on all fours as he shuffled behind you on the bed, smacking your ass before gently massaging your flesh. “I fucking love you so much, you know that? Fuck, I’m so lucky. So lucky that you’re mine, all dressed up just for me, Jesus Christ, you’re fucking perfect.” You whimpered as you felt him line himself up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, the lips of your pussy still soaked and puffy from your last two orgasms.
“Fuck, I love you too Jav-ahhhhhhh.” You gasped as you felt Javi bottom out inside of you, the angle of him pushing himself into from behind always stretching you in a way that had you speechless. He paused for a moment before slowly beginning to rock his hips, only pushing himself halfway in, savoring how sweet you felt. It wasn’t long before his thrusts became deeper, his cock brushing against your cervix, punching into the spot that had your vision going white, leaving you trembling and breathless. You could hear how wet you were, the sounds of him pounding in and out of your weeping pussy on top of the grunts and whimpers between you two had the room sounding borderline pornagraphic.
Despite how amazing it felt as he pumped in to you, there was a part of you that was surprised that fucking you from behind was all he wanted after you had given him free reign for his birthday. Javi loved your ass, and that was putting it lightly. The man worshiped it, and being on your hands and knees was a position you found yourself in frequently in the bedroom, so you were surprised that this was his choice. That was until you felt his fingers reaching under your thong, pulling the lace even further to the side, the wet spit of his mouth on your ass, his hand creeping further down the base of your spine until it stopped there.
Oh.
Oh.
You felt his thumb press against the tight ring of your muscle, swirling his spit as you shuttered, cunt clenching at the thought of what he was about to do. You knew why he wanted you like this. Oh, fuck.
“Is this okay?” He asked softly, gently pressing the pad of his thumb more firmly against your tight hole, making you whine in delight.
You nodded desperately, your response practically incoherent as it babbled from your brain, falling off your tongue. “Yes, oh my god, Javi.”
“Osita, tell me if it’s too much. If it’s too much I’ll stop right away, okay? Promise you’ll tell me?” God, this man was about to put his thumb in your ass and he still found a way to make it sweet.
“I promise.”
“Okay.” He kept his thrusts inside you steady as you felt his thumb breach inside, making you whine. Audibly whine. His thumb was barley in you and it felt so tight, the feeling of how full you felt making you wetter by the second. “Relax baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you. Doing so good for me, sweet girl.” He hummed, his praise deep and horse. You took a deep breath, feeling yourself relax as he pushed his thumb in further, making you whimper as you felt your clit absolutely throbbing with each press of his digit inside you. “You okay?” He asked, leaning over you, nipping at your shoulder as you shook your head yes, your brain an absolute loss for words. You gasped as you felt his thumb exit, being replaced by his two fingers pushing deeper into your tight hole. You felt so full, the size of his cock and the thickness of his fingers had you whimpering, clawing at the bed sheets underneath you. The thrusts of both his dick and hand slowly began to pick up their pace, feeling yourself throbbing in delight from the stimulation. It was like you could feel every nerve in your body screaming in pleasure, you were barely hanging on by a thread, painfully close to your end. All it took was the slightest press of the heel of Javi’s palm against your clit before you were screaming out his name once more.
“Javi, fuck, fuck oh my god, Javi, I’m gonna-ahhhhhAHHH.”
Your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, leaving every inch of your body trembling, practically seeing stars from how hard you came. That was all it took for Javi to follow suit. He was already so worked up from the image of you, riled up and moaning his name, that watching you cum as hard as you did sent him over the edge instantly. It took all of his self restraint to not come from the moment you had agreed to let him play with your ass. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it more often than not, wanting to pleasure you in any way he could, and now that you had let him, it was game over. With only a few more pumps, he found himself rapidly pounding into you as he chased his own high.
“Fuck baby, I’m gonna come too. Did so good for me, my good girl taking me so well. My fucking perfect girl. Quiero estar contigo para siempre, Osita. Te quiero con toda mi alma. (I want you forever, Osita. I love you with all my soul.) Fuck, I’m-” You could feel his cock throbbing as he pulsed inside you, spilling deep into your walls, milking himself of ever last drop as he slumped over your body, your chests rising and falling together. After catching his breath, Javi pulled out, the mixture of the two of you running still down your thighs as he quickly got up to go wash his hands and grab a towel, laughing as he returned from the bathroom to find you face down in the bed, sprawled out across the mattress. “You okay, baby?” He shook his head as he sat down on the bed next to you, running his hand across your back.
“Ho-ly shit.” You rasped, face pressed against your pillow before lifting it up to look over at Javi. “Javi… holy fuck. I don’t think I’ve ever came so hard in my entire life. I think I’m dead. I think I died and went to heaven.”
“You’re fucking ridiculous, Osita.” He chuckled at your dramatics, gently wiping the cloth against you and cleaning you up before tossing it in the hamper. “To be fair, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard either. Happy fucking birthday to me. This is the best birthday I’ve ever had and it’s not even 10:00 AM yet. God, I love you.” You sat up as he grabbed your face, pulling you in for a long, deep kiss, a grin spreading across his lips as your mouths met.
“Well then you’re in luck, your day’s just gettin’ started, birthday boy.” You winked, playfully pinching his cheek as the two of you laughed.
“Does this mean I finally get to go out and see the rest of the apartment now?” Javi smiled, now remembering all the decorations you had set up for him around the house that he had only half appreciated in his shocked and sleepy state.
“Absolutely. I’ve got breakfast and more presents for you too.”
“God, what the fuck did I ever do to deserve you?”
“I could ask myself the same thing.”
Your hunch about the confetti pancakes was absolutely correct, losing track of how many Javi had eaten, considering you’d stopped counting after 4. To you, the decorations that you had set up around the apartment were just a fun touch to help celebrate, but to Javi, it was about the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for him. It almost brought you to tears seeing how excited Javi was that you had got him balloons, streamers, a handmade banner that he couldn’t seem to stop complimenting, even when you insisted that all you did was just write a little more neatly than usual. Javi meant everything to you, and the fact that you were able to bring him so much joy from something so small made your heart burst at the seams. If he was this excited from just decorations, you were really gonna have to ease him into the rest of the day.
“You ready for your presents, or do I need to make another batch of pancakes?” You laughed as Javi finished off what had to have been his 6th pancake, squirting the can of whipped cream in his mouth to top it off.
“Baby, I told you, you didn’t have to get me anything. You’ve already done more than enough for me.” He said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he leaned back in his chair.
“Let me rephrase- I bought you presents and I’m giving them to you. Can I please give them to you now?” You folded your arms over your chest as you gave Javi a stubborn look.
“Yes, fine. Thank you. They better not be fucking expensive, you don’t need to be spending that kind of money on me.” He grumbled as you handed him over the first gift, slowly taking the tissue paper off the top of the bag.
“Will you stop being such a party pooper and just open your damn gifts? I’m a big girl, I can spend my money how I want, and I wanted to spend it on you.” You sassed as he shook his head, pulling out a silky blue and red checkered tie out of the gift bag. He smiled as he picked it up, running his hands over the fabric.
“This is really, really nice, thank you, Osita.”
“You’re welcome. I figured it’d look good with any of your suits, and that you’d look handsome in it, regardless. Okay, next one!” You grinned, handing him over the next box, waiting excitedly for his reaction as he ripped off the wrapping paper. As Javi peeled the rest of it back, his eyes widened as he looked at the box before looking back up at you in shock.
“Osita…” He stared at you for a moment, just holding the box in his hands, almost as if he was refusing to see what was inside.
“Will you just open it, please?” You pleaded, having a feeling this was going to be his reaction to your gift. Carefully, he took the lid off the box, his head shaking as he saw what was inside. Gently, he pulled the silver watch out, holding it in his hands as he stared at you with those big, brown puppy dog eyes.
“Baby… This is fucking nice. Like, so nice. Do you know how expensive these are? You didn’t need to do this, I can’t-”
“You have been constantly complaining about how your watch does work and you needed a new one. I know it's expensive, but it’s your birthday and you deserve it. And don’t you dare try and tell me to return it, I will come over and put that watch on your wrist myself if I have to.” You raised an eyebrow at him before he could rebuttal, biting down on his tongue as he smiled, slipping on the watch. He got up from his seat, cupping your face, kissing you deeply and tenderly.
“Thank you, Osita. You’re amazing. I don’t deserve any of this. I just- thank you.” His thumb rubbed along your jaw as he cradled your face, practically feeling the genuine joy and appreciation radiate from him.
“There’s one more thing I still have to give you.” You beamed, trying your best to contain your excitement for the final gift you had for Javi.
“Baby, there’s more? You already got me way too much, please-”
You cut him off, holding out the tiny black box that you had been hiding behind you, gesturing down at it for him to take it, your hands shaky as you nervously passed off the gift. With a sigh, Javi took it, undoing the bow you had tied as he opened the package, looking at it with confusion.
“A key?” He asked, puzzled by the present.
“Go take it and stand out in the hallway.” You requested, Javi complying but still utterly confused as to what was happening. Javi stood on the opposite side of your doorway facing you, giving him a little wave before closing it on him and clicking the lock.
“Osita, what is happening?” You heard him laugh through the other side of the door.
“Use the key!” You insisted, smiling to yourself as you heard the doorknob rattle, Javi twisting it open as he walked back into the apartment. You grinned at him in anticipation, hoping that he had caught on, but Javi still appeared to be completely oblivious to the point of gift.
“It’s a key to your apartment?” He questioned, a confused look still spread across his face.
“Mmmhmmmm.” You nodded, over dramatically, waiting for it to click with him.
“Baby, I’m really sorry, I don’t understand.” He laughed, running his hand over his face, shaking his head. You put your hands on your hips, looking at him, bewildered how he still had no idea what the key meant.
“Wow, I really thought your detective skills would have come into play on this one, Agent Peña, but I guess not. Javi. It’s your own key to the apartment. I- I want you to move in with me.”
“Osita… Are you… Baby, are you serious?” He stood there frozen in shock, his jaw hanging open as he processed what you had just said.
“I mean, only if you want to, I know it’s kinda fast and I don’t want you to feel pressured, but I- OH!” You shrieked as Javi locked his arms under your thighs, hoisting you up as you wrapped your legs around the small of your back, draping his arms around his shoulders. You could feel his smile against your skin as he peppered you with kisses, making you giggle and squeal as he spun you around the living room.
“You’re really being serious?” He beamed at you, his grin stretching wide across his face as the tears welled behind his eyes.
“Of course I’m being serious, ya goof. I love you, Jav.” Your face mirrored his as your happy tears streamed down your cheeks, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you hugged him tightly, Javi squeezing you closer to his chest as he held you.
“I love you so much. Fuck, of course I’ll move in with you. There’s nothing else I’d rather do than spend every day coming home to you. Me haces muy feliz. Eres más de lo que merezco. Tú y yo juntos por siempre, Osita."(You make me so happy. You’re more than I deserve. It’s you and me forever, Osita.)
"Tú y yo contra el mudo, Javier Peña." (You and me against the word, Javier Peña.)
Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfic#narcos fanfiction#narcos#narcos fic#javier pena fic#javi pena#javi peña x reader#javier pena#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fluff#javier pena imagine#javier pena narcos#javier pena smut#javier pena x f!reader#javier pena x female reader#javier pena x reader#javier pena x you#javier peña#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña smut#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x female reader#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#pedro pascal characters#pedrohub#pedro pascal character
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I would like to take a moment and take advantage of the wonderful initiative #ppcugiftexchange2024 by @swiftiscruff to thank the immense talents and wonderful humans of this fandom.
Thank you for your time, thank you for having the courage to put your creations out there, thank you for your hard work. In my eyes you are all heroes.
I have a hard time diving in and making friends, both in real life and online. I'm not very good at expressing my emotions. I'm not a great conversionalist. I don't interact with many of you and with others I interact very little because I'm always afraid of disturbing or not saying the right thing…
But please know that I'm very grateful to all of you. More than once you have calmed me down and made me smile in moments when the darkness screamed loudest.
If I can only be grateful for one thing to that Chilean adorkable man, it is that he gave me the opportunity to get to know this wonderful community…
So thank you. May each of you always be happy and may the Goddesses of Inspiration always smile on you. And please know that in me you will always have the cheerleader you may not need, but you certainly deserve.
Sending you love and light… ✨💖✨
@wheresarizona @fuckyeahdindjarin @frannyzooey @undercoverpena @prolix-yuy @the-ginger-hedge-witch @kteague @tieronecrush @wildemaven @frenchiereading @bageldaddy @macfrog @notjustjavierpena @hier--soir @trulybetty @joelsgreys @swiftispunk @ezrasbirdie @psychedelic-ink @joelscruff @morallyinept @thetriumphantpanda @goodwithcheese @secretelephanttattoo @atticrissfinch @bluestar22x @mermaidgirl30 @chiriwritesstuff @proxima-writes @rhoorl @kiwisbell @intheorangebedroom @endlessthxxghts @theidiotwhowritesthings @loliwrites @perotovar @kedsandtubesocks @burntheedges @iknowisoundcrazy @mrsmando @hellishjoel and many other who I certainly forgot (sorry 😓)....
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☆some more of my favorite fics ☆
fic rec masterlist is here
a sheep in wolf's clothing by @jupiter-soups
My Brother's Keeper by @diversemediums
The Two of Us by @yourwinchesterbros
call me by @macfrog
i'll be needing stitches by @thetriumphantpanda
easy, plaid-shirt mornings by @morning-star-joy
Keeping up by @talaok
Tender by @brighttears
bath time by @luvrxbunny
an open invitation by @walkintotheriveranddisappear
Sweet spot by @javiscigarette
give in by @cupofjoel
clouds by @softlyspector
seasons by @loquaciousferret
speak now by @mendessi
stranded by @soullumii
whatever you want by @inkedells
in my hometown by @swiftispunk
in a feud with her neighbor by @proxima-writes
if the door wasn't shut by @heartpascal
I want your video by @tieronecrush
Friendly Neighborhood Handyman by @juletheghoul
Float Like a Feather by @wheresarizona
Yellow by @ilovepedro
heat lightning by @millerscoffee
Falling into My SIns by @inthe-dark-tonight
anyone is welcome to send fic recs to my inbox!💌 i lovee reading them :))
#mari's fic recs#fic recs#actually organized my fic bookmarks for once#shocker#so i found some good fics i thought i lost!
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A list of all my favourite DAVE YORK Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.
PART 1
Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤
⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.
Desperation - @theywhowriteandknowthings
Dollhouse, Broken Sleep & Wonderful Tonight Featuring Frankie Morales - @psychedelic-ink
Bound For Carnage Series - @psychedelic-ink
Scotch & Cherry - @ghostfanwriter Tutor!Reader
I Can Barely Breathe, True North & Anchor - @yespolkadotkitty
My Girl Featuring Frankie Morales, Your Taste I Crave, Sharpshooter, Kinktober 22 Lactation & After Hours - @foli-vora
Just A Piece - @palioom
The Cabin In The Woods Part 1, Part 2 & Part 3 - @xdaddysprincessxx Dark!Dead Dove
Dave York Masterlist - @absurdthirst So many good ones on there!
Isn't She A Doll? - @proxima-writes
Three Days - @massivedreamer CartelBossF!Reader
Revenge, Stupid Little Heart & Drabble 1 - @toomanystoriessolittletime
Amarum & A Healing Touch - @juletheghoul
Red & Unholy Series - @alwaysdjarin
Summer Schooled Series Featuring Joel Miller, You Say Hate But I Think You Mean The Other Thing Series & Dave Masterlist - @boliv-jenta
My Best Friend's Dad Series & Dave York Masterlist - @whiskeynwriting
The Senator's Daughter Series - @detectivecarisi-1 Bodyguard!Dave
The Secrets We Keep - @wildemaven
The Violence Of You, Dark!Dave Ropes, Reckless, Pitch Black Series Blind!OFC, Stay With Me, Intimidation Tactics Series Featuring Marcus Pike & Special Virgin!Reader - @whataperfectwasteoftime
A Valentine's In Reverse - @littlebirdsbookshelf
1k Smut Sensation Thigh Riding - @thetriumphantpanda
Antagonists - @getitoutofmymindwrites
Thirteen Days Series - @josephquinnswhore
Two For One - @suzdin Featuring Max Phillips
Drown In Your Wrath & Fury & You Made Me A Villain - @movievillainess721
Appreciation Series F!Nanny Reader, The Storm, Religious Corruption Series Virgin!Reader, Silent, This Is Me Trying Series Surgeon!Dave, & A Little Taste - @pedropascalsx
The Good, The Bad & The Naughty, Attending Mr York Series, One Week With Dave York Series, & Cherry Kisses - @popcornforone
Precious Possessions Series - @exquisiteserotonin
Emptiness - @deadhumourist SoftDom!Dave
Desires & Complications Series - @ezrasbirdie Featuring Marcus Pike
Notes On Tutoring Series - @honestly-shite Music College AU
Assistance - @adancedivasmom
Mine - @theewokingdead F!NannyReader
Needs & Wants - @thefloorisbalaclava
Interrogation - @secretwriterpp Dark/Violence Featuring Frankie Morales
Yours, Rulebreaker, Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) & Temptation - @wheresarizona
Eres Mia Series - @loslentesdepedrito Featuring Marcus Pike
Kinktober Day 4 Breath Play - @moralesispunk
Satisfy Me - @whiskeyncoke-redux
Desired Punishment Series Dark!Dave & Office Rendezvous - @coastielaceispunk
Burnt Honey - @pedrito-friskito
Risk - @katareyoudrilling
Larks & Katydids - @kiwisbell AO3 Link
Daddy Dave Masterlist - @pintsizemama
Volatile - @javier-pena
Dave Request - @radiowallet
Façade - @furious-rogue-stuff
Killer Writing Series - @wardenparker
#pedro pascal characters#dave york#fic recs#dave york x f!reader#dave york the equalizer 2#the equalizer 2#dave york x reader#dave york smut#dave york fanfiction#dave york fanfic#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character universe#dave york x you#dave york x female reader
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but I would die for you in secret
summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated, and you’re not entirely sure what to even call it. There’s the fact no one can know, so his kid doesn’t find out, and you’re pretty sure he’s ashamed of your age difference—he’s not your boyfriend, but you only fuck each other; this thing started months ago, and Joel does not like it when men give you attention, because he wants you all to himself. But again, he’s not your sexy, older boyfriend.
pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, porn with some plot, explicit smut, Possessive Joel Miller, Joel being a lil dominant, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), secret relationship, sneaking around, accidental voyeurism, edging, orgasm denial, mutual masturbation, dirty talk (so much), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), rough sex, explicit consent, creampie, spanking, spit as lube, love confession, Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)
word count: 7.1k+
a/n: Hey! I needed a break from my long fic that I’ve been writing nonstop for five months, and I was really missing Joel and Ellie, so here we are. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Masterlist - One Shot
The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated.
To start with, there’s the age difference. It doesn’t bother you at all, and why should it? You’re both consenting adults who know what they want, but he’s got this idea in his head that he shouldn’t be chasing someone so much younger than him and that you should be with somebody your own age—he mentions this almost every single time you’re alone together, and you've learned a simple flash of your tits or a sudden kiss will make those thoughts disappear.
Then there's the fact he isn't your boyfriend, yet you only fuck each other. His days are spent working whatever job he’s assigned here in Jackson and he’s at your place most nights after his daughter goes to bed—however, that’s a secret; No one can know about you two, even though Joel’s a tiny bit possessive and doesn't take kindly to other men giving you attention; which you're not one to judge because you can't stand when women flirt with him, especially Sandra, his next-door neighbor who won't leave him the fuck alone after the many times he’s told her he’s not interested.
So, again, he's not your boyfriend, but neither of you wants to fuck anyone else; whatever this thing is between you has been going on for over eight months, and he doesn’t want people to know you’re together—yet, any time he catches a man being too friendly with you, there's a 100% chance a grumpier than usual Joel will show up at your house that night, and at some point, while he’s fucking your brains out, he'll let a 'Mine' slip out.
Clearly, you have some kind of relationship with him, and it borders somewhere between fuck buddies and him being your boyfriend; where it gets confusing is it's not all sex with him. If his kid is staying over at a friend's, he'll show up at yours earlier than normal, and usually, with a movie he hadn't seen since the world ended or a record he thought you'd enjoy that you both listen to all the way through for him to tell you facts and anecdotes that he could possibly be the only person on the entire planet who knows.
If you need anything fixed around your house, he'll do it, and sometimes you don't even have to ask. You'll mention something, and the next thing you know, he's at your front door with a toolbox—sometimes, he uses doing repairs as a ruse so people will see him arriving at your place with his tools when, in actuality, he’s there to spend the day with you.
You’re also probably the only person, unrelated to him, he has actual conversations with; there’s hardly any grumbling or muttering.
There is a reason he won't acknowledge you’re dating, and it's his sixteen-year-old daughter whom he doesn't want to know he has a love life—it's to where Joel's basically taken the role of the rebellious teenager, sneaking out of his own home in the middle of the night to ensure she's unaware he left.
It's an accumulation of factors why she can't know. The big two, you think, are your age, and you know for sure he doesn't want Ellie to think she'll be any less important to him or that he's abandoning her if he's seeing someone—he worries she won’t take it well, and from what you know she's been through, you can understand why he’s being so protective.
Do you wish you could openly be in a relationship with Joel? Sure, it'd make you happy to shove it in Sandra, his stupid neighbor's face that he's taken.
That isn't a possibility, though, and honestly, what the two of you have is good, so you're not going to make a fuss about labels.
It's been a few nights since Joel has snuck over to your place, and you know why he hasn't stopped by—Ellie—she's sick with a cold, and to put things mildly, her father is freaking the fuck out that it could turn into something worse, and he won't let her out of his sight.
Now, if a person didn't want their child to know they were dating anyone, they’d keep them separated, right? Well, you live across the street from them—that's how you met Joel; he saw someone had moved into the tiny one-bedroom, one-bath home across from his and came over to introduce himself—and since you live across the way from him, and Ellie, the two of you have this, 'Just being a good neighbor,’ act, where any interactions you have in public, are under the guise that you’re just friendly neighbors. So, Ellie has spoken to you many times and has even invited you to hang out and eat meals with them at their house or in the mess hall, where Joel always does his damndest to act indifferent.
Joel left a simple note three days ago stating Ellie was feeling under the weather on your front door. The next day, you stopped by, as the good neighbor you are, to drop off some chicken soup you convinced the kitchen at the mess hall to make. Joel had let you in with a ‘Thanks’ and took the large bowl from you to the kitchen, and you followed the sounds of sniffles to the living room, where you found the teenager wrapped in a blanket on the couch, her stuffed-up voice exclaiming when she saw you in relief you were there so she’d have someone other than her dad to look at or talk to; obviously, she was tired of him, and with how he was hovering, and fussing over her like a mother hen, you would’ve been tired of him, too.
The man had bags under his worried eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept since she’d gotten sick. After he served her some soup and saw she was eating it, Ellie and you convinced him to take a nap while you hung out with his kid—the kid you’ve had a suspicion for a while knows there’s something up between you and her father, simply because every time the two of you are alone, she grills you about your love life.
The thing is, she always fishes for information you won’t give her, but she never seems bothered by the prospect of Joel dating; frankly, she’s supportive and wants him to be happy. However, that wasn’t something you could tell him because he’d probably end things with you immediately, so you’d have to wait for them to eventually have a heart-to-heart for him to find out—which, you’re not holding your breath with how bad they both are at talking to each other about their feelings.
And now it’s been over three days since you last got laid, and after having great sex regularly, the horniness is hitting you hard tonight, and you need to come.
It might be the dead of winter, but you’ve pushed the blankets to the end of your queen-sized bed, the old sheets not as soft as you imagined they’d once been when they were new, your bare, heated skin pressing into them. You’re lying in the middle of the mattress, your head cushioned by a pillow that’d lost its firmness long ago, your naked legs spread while your fingers rub at your swollen clit just right, the others pinching at your pebbled nipple to have the pleasure welling up inside you. You’ve been biting your bottom lip so much it’s sore, your breaths panting from your lungs, the wood stove in the living room keeping your house warm, and that, combined with your arousal, has a thin layer of sweat coating your body.
Sure, you can get yourself off, but the orgasm will be nowhere near as good as what Joel coaxes from you; it’ll take the edge off, at least, so you’ll feel a little better.
For the last hour, you’ve been building yourself up, almost hitting your peak, and stopping, edging yourself over and over again to try to make yourself come as hard as you can by your own hand to assuage some of your need—the sheets are wet under your ass where you’ve dripped onto them.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, thinking about that one night Joel saw some guy about your age at the bar laying it on thick to get you to leave with him, and how after you turned him down and left, a familiar presence followed you along the dark streets. You had to keep quiet when those big, gun-calloused hands you knew all too well pulled you into the stable that had nobody in it except the horses—Joel fucked you from behind against a wall, having to brace yourself with your arms on it. You remembered his palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds and him blanketing himself over your back to have his lips at your ear while he pounded into you hard and fast, quietly grunting about how you were his and that no one could make you feel as good as he did. There was no forgetting how his cock stretched open your cunt, or how before he sheathed himself inside you, you heard him spit on his fingers to slick himself up; the way he made you come around him while he circled your clit with those same digits. The memory of how he’d worked himself up so much he’d forgotten to pull out and spilled deep in your pussy, has you so close to coming by your hand you moan loudly, “Joel.”
“Stop,” the familiar gruff voice makes your eyes snap open as you gasp, immediately sitting up on your elbows.
There at the foot of the bed is the man on your mind—he must’ve taken off his winter jacket in the living room—his green flannel shirt is gaping from most of the buttons being undone, revealing his chest, his grey waves of hair looking to be slightly damp from melted snowflakes. What steals your attention is the fact his jeans are unbuttoned and open, and he’s slowly stroking his hard dick; from how the tip is angry red, leaking precum, and his shaft shines, he’s been watching and jerking off for some time.
“Joel,” his name comes out as a whisper, and your eyes flick up to his, finding them dark and staring hungrily between your legs at your glistening cunt.
You’re so happy to see him you’re not even mad he ruined your orgasm, knowing he’ll make it up to you.
“How many times have you made yourself come while I’ve been busy?” he asks, finally meeting your gaze, his expression grumpy.
“No-none,” you stammer.
His eyebrow lifts. “You lyin’ to me, sweetheart?”
“No.” You shook your head. “Are you mad at me…?”
His face pinches in confusion. “What? No. I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m mad at myself for leavin’ you hangin’.” He undoes the last two buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off for it to fall to the floor, pushing down his pants to step out of them, now standing before you completely naked.
His body is a tapestry of littered scars that tell of his fight to survive this long, some from injuries you’re sure should’ve killed him. Yet, somehow, if by spite or the grace of God, he managed to stay alive—your fingers have traced many of them, mapping the silvery and pink lines in the quiet of the night with only the glow of a bedside lamp. With what people have to do in order to keep living these days, they rarely like to share the stories behind their close calls to death. Still, there’s a jagged scar low on the right side of his stomach lesser men would have died from, you noticed the first time he took his shirt off, and you always wanted to know the story of. Surprisingly, he told you how he got it a few months into this not-not relationship when you asked.
Excitement pools in your belly, your pussy throbbing needily, watching as he climbs onto the bed to kneel in front of you, between your legs, down by your ankles.
“Touch yourself,” he orders and takes himself in hand again, languidly pumping his cock. “I wanna watch you make yourself come; then I’m gonna show you how I’m better than everyone, includin’ you, at gettin’ you off.”
Your cunt clenches because he is better, and the promise has you doing as he said, sliding your hand down to the apex of your thighs to rub your clit the way you like while you watch him fist his shaft. This isn’t the first time he’s watched you touch yourself, and you’re sure if it was anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed, but with how the desire is clear as he stares at what you’re doing, it spurs you on.
Having been so close to coming when he told you to stop, and now, it’s turning you on so much that he’s jacking off to what you’re doing, all of it is building you back up quickly, the familiar heat growing at the base of your spine.
“Just like that, baby,” he rasps and wets his bottom lip. “Keep rubbin’ that pretty pussy—did you miss me?”
“Yes.”
He hums in the back of his throat. “Missed how good I make you feel—how I stretch open that perfect cunt with my cock? Do I fuck you so good, you were thinkin’ about me to make yourself come?”
The strokes of his hand sound wetter, your arousal drooling onto the bedding while the muscles in your belly begin to tighten.
“Yes,” you gasp.
“That’s right, you were. So fuckin’ pretty spread out like this for me—I wanna taste you, shove my face in your pussy, and drown in it; just look at how you’re drippin’ for me.”
“Joel,” you moan. You’re so close it’s not going to take much more.
“God, I fuckin’ missed that sound; I missed hearin’ your voice and how good you smell, how soft your skin is, and the few hours I get to sleep next to you—come for me, baby. Come all over your fingers, and I’ll give you my dick—I’ll make those gorgeous eyes roll back in your head and give it to you so good, I ruin you for anyone else.”
He’s already ruined you for anyone else, and you doubt there’s another who’d fuck you as good as him.
It’s the thought that he’s yours and no one else can have him like this that sends you over the edge, your body seizing up as you come, pleasure erupting from your center as you moan his name.
He doesn’t give you a chance to recover, batting away your hand to dive in and bury his face in your wet heat. He shoves his tongue inside your soaked hole, groaning loudly as he laps at your come, your body trembling when he drags the flat of it up through your folds to suck your clit between his lips. Your fingers press into his hair, soft sounds leaving your throat at how good it feels.
The one orgasm isn’t enough—you need more, his mouth igniting arousal to burn hot in your belly, making you feel achingly empty. He’s licking up every bit of your need, coating your sex, moving to flick his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re feeling greedy; what he’s doing isn’t enough, and you want, no, need him inside you.
You pull at his hair as you tell him in a somewhat whiny tone, “Fuck me, Joel—stop making me wait.”
His chuckle vibrates into your sensitive skin before he rises to kneel with a groan. “Impatient.” He smacks your thigh. “Flip, ass up.” And it’s not a suggestion, his hands on your waist helping you to roll over, pulling your backside up into the air while your torso is against the sheets. Your knees are sinking into the bed and spread a little, putting yourself on display for him, the mattress jostling when he shuffles forward, feeling his body heat behind you. His palm lands on your asscheek hard, the sharp sting making you moan. “Now, ask me nicely to fuck you.”
You should’ve known he wouldn’t care for your lack of manners.
Your head is resting on your crossed arms in front of you.
“Joel, will you please fuck me?” you ask as sweetly as possible.
“Yes.”
The sound of him spitting on his fingers meets your ears, and you know he’s slicking himself up. One of his hands holds your hip, the other guiding his cock through the lips of your pussy to wet it even more, nudging your clit—it doesn’t seem like he’s in a mood to tease too much. Your eyes slip shut when he notches himself at your entrance and starts slowly feeding himself into you, your tight, velvety walls expanding to take the considerable girth of him, whining as he fills you. He slides all the way home, your cunt throbbing around him.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he groans. “Is this what your needy little pussy wanted?”
“Yes,” you moan.
He’s as deep as he can go and pulls out until just the tip remains, and slams back into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs—oh, this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you to the point your legs are too shaky to walk on afterward. The pace he sets is deliciously brutal and has your eyes rolling back, all thoughts leaving your brain, unable to think with how he’s pressing into so many heavenly spots, his grip tight on your waist.
The sounds in the room are obscene—the springs beneath you are squeaking, and there’s the noisy slap of his hips colliding with your ass, Joel grunting with each dull smack of his skin to yours, while you gasp out moans.
He’s fucking you so good, your orgasm is already taking shape, its fiery tendrils tightening in your core with each stroke.
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re so fuckin’ wet—I could live in this perfect pussy.”
His hand slaps your ass hard enough the crack echoes amongst the four walls, the sweet pain making you clench around him and press back into his thrusts, crying out his name.
“Does it feel good, baby?” he asks. “Did you miss getting fucked like this? You love this—this pussy is mine, isn’t it? You’re mine.”
He’s not wrong; you are his, and all you can do is mewl in reply, waves of your arousal seeping down his shaft to catch on his balls.
His gun-calloused hands adjust on your hips to get a better grip, pulling you back each time his dick impales you, fucking you harder and faster, hearing him panting behind you—the wet sounds of him working himself in and out of your drenched cunt, are loud, and lewd.
You’re so close; you’re just needing—
Joel leans forward to get his hand under your body to the swollen pearl of your clit, circling it how he knows you like it.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he grits out. “Let me have it—soak my cock with your come. Let me feel you—I know you’re almost there.”
That’s it—the knot in your belly winds tighter and tighter until the tension snaps, and you fall over the edge with a silent cry, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough that it slows his rhythm almost to a stop. Joel groans loudly while euphoria explodes out from your center, feeling it spread to your fingers and toes. Your brain goes blissfully blank, and your legs tremble under you like a leaf in the wind.
A gasp leaves you when he suddenly pulls out and flips you onto your back, taking his place between your spread thighs. He puts your legs high on his ribs, holding his weight on one arm while his other hand sheaths himself back inside you.
It’s not surprising that you’ve found yourself under his hulking frame with his hips snapping in and out of you—when you open your eyes, his are closed, his expression looking pained, and it’s his broad shoulders and head that take up your vision. This is how Joel wanted to fuck you from the start, but he’s a gentleman and did your preferred position first.
Your fingernails end up digging into the skin of his shoulder blades for something to hold on to, and he kisses over your chest to duck his head, wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple and sucking on it, the shock of pleasure causing a moan to slip from your throat. His breaths are heavy, and you know he won’t last much longer.
Your voice is hoarse when you speak, telling him what you know he needs to hear, “I missed you, Joel.” He whines. “I want you to come for me.”
His mouth leaves your breast to crash against yours, and you’d been wondering how long he’d go without kissing you—something about kissing while he fucks makes him come faster; maybe it’s the intimacy?
He’s told you the last woman he was with back in Boston wouldn’t kiss him because sex between them was just scratching an itch, and she wasn’t looking for anyone to replace her dead husband.
All you know is Joel loves kissing and touching—he’s admitted that he sleeps best with you snuggled against his back as the big spoon, which, you’ll never tell him, you think is adorable with how he scares people enough, they move out of his way when he walks down the street.
His kisses are fervent, and you give just as good as you get, welcoming his tongue when it presses between your lips, his pace speeding up. You love having him inside you, the way he fits all nice and snug to fill you completely. This is what you’ve been needing, and it’s perfect.
When his rhythm gets uneven, you expect him to pull out at any second to spill his release on your belly. What he does next, you’re not expecting.
Joel shoves his face into the crook of your neck, his facial hair scratching your skin, feeling his hot breaths.
He says something that’s too muffled to make out, so you pull on his hair to make him lift his head, finding his eyes dark and glazed over, looking totally and completely wrecked. His pace slows to him rocking in and out of you.
“What did you say?” you ask.
“Can I—” he pants. “Fuck, can I come inside you?”
The question has your tight walls constricting around him.
“Fuck,” Joel hisses, his eyes closing. “Please, can I?” he asks again.
The answer that immediately pops into your brain is ‘yes,’ but thinking about how the only times this man has finished inside you in the past were all accidents, you’re worrying he’s just pussy drunk and not thinking straight; that if you fell pregnant, something you didn’t mind, he’ll regret it.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
He looks at you and nods. “Yes, I know—” The consequences, he leaves unsaid. “—please.”
“Then yes, come for me, Joel—fill me up.”
He raggedly moans, his face falling into your neck again. His thrusts speed up and become frantic as he pounds into you, your heels digging into his ass, feeling the muscles flex. He works himself up until he presses into you one last time as deep as possible and comes with a guttural groan—his dick jerks inside you, and the hot spurts of his spend gush into your depths, filling you up. Electricity zips down your spine as you moan, your tight walls throbbing around him while he grinds his hips, fucking his come deeper.
The weight of his body is welcome when he eventually slumps onto you, and instinctively, your fingers slide into his hair, scratching your nails lovingly against his scalp, the man practically purring on top of you.
For the first time in three days, you feel happy and finally sated, loving how he’s stuffed you full of his cock, and come. There’s no talking as your heartbeats slow together and your breathing evens out, basking in each other’s presence. Your eyes are closed, and you’re choosing to ignore your shaky limbs.
It’s hard to imagine a life without Joel, which is odd since up until this point, most of it had been spent without him, or anyone really. What you actually mean is you don’t want to imagine a life without Joel and Ellie—you think she’s a great kid, and you have a soft spot for her; plus, she and her dad are a package deal. Then there’s Joel, who you’re absolutely and completely in love with, and it bothers you that you don’t know what this relationship between you is or if he even feels the same as you.
Minutes pass, the old, wooden bones of your house creaking as the winter wind gusts outside.
“Joel?” you break the silence.
“Mhmm?” he hums, nuzzling into your throat.
“What are we?”
“Huh?”
“What are we? Like, what is this thing that we’re doing?”
His head lifts, and he pulls out, rolling off you to lie beside you on his back, pressing his hands to his face.
“Somethin’ I shouldn’t be doin’ in the first place,” he finally answers.
You turn on your side toward him, propping your head up on your arm. “Take my age out of the equation.”
His palms lift, and he looks at you confused. “What do you mean?”
“For some fucking reason, you are stuck on my age—take it out of the equation; if that wasn’t a factor, would you openly date me?”
“Well, there’s Ellie—”
“—let’s pretend she doesn’t give a fuck about your love life,” you cut him off, “and actually wants you to be happy, and my age doesn’t matter—would you openly date me?”
“Yes.”
“So, you have feelings for me?”
“Of course.”
“Do you love me…?”
“Yes,” he whispers, covering his face again.
One word has your heart picking up in speed.
“I love you, too.”
His head whips in your direction with an expression of bewilderment.
“What?” he asks.
“I’m in love with you—have been for a while, and I’m fine with doing what we’ve been doing if that’s the only way I can be with you, but I kinda, sorta, would like it if you thought of us as a couple, and weren’t ashamed of me…”
A secret relationship? You’re fine with that. But Joel being ashamed of you? It fucking hurts.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says too quickly.
“Joel, if Ellie were okay with you having a love life, you wouldn’t openly date me because of how old I am—I’d just continue being your dirty little secret that one other person knows about.”
His eyes dart away, and the sigh he lets out is long and weary.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says. “I’m ashamed of myself for fallin’ for you and not bein’ able to give you the future you deserve. I just felt like I was stringin’ you along when you could be with someone who can offer you more, but I’m so fuckin’ selfish.” He looks at you. “I want you, and I don’t want anyone else to have you—I can’t let you go, even though I should cut you free.”
Your fingers brush back the sweat-soaked hair on his forehead. “I don't want anyone else, Joel—I want you, and you’re not stringing me along. I’m happy with you and any future I can have with you and Ellie.”
He’s frowning. “If only it were that simple,” he sighs.
This is a conversation you thought might make him end things with you, but maybe giving him a slight nudge will be okay—at least, you hope it will.
“It is that simple,” you tell him. “I’m gonna tell you something that if you can work up the nerve to talk to her about, she'll confirm it.”
His eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“Ellie doesn’t care if you date. She’s told me she wishes you weren’t such an asshole ‘cause then the only negative thing about you is how ugly you are, and people love ugly things all the time, and if someone loves you, then you won’t die alone, plus it’d hopefully make you happy, and she really wants you to be happy—that’s pretty much what she said word-for-word.”
His eyes close, and the sigh that leaves him is that of a father who’s real tired of their child’s shit, and you smile.
“That’s Ellie,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not even sure how I should be feelin’ right now.”
“I hoped you’d be relieved at least, possibly even happy.”
He looks at you. “Yeah, I’m relieved and happy but also a little ticked at her embarrassin’ me like that.”
Scooting closer to him, you lay half on top of him with your arms folded on his chest, resting your chin on them to stare at his pretty face.
“Don’t be embarrassed. It was said out of love—she loves you.”
He sighs again, wrapping his arms around your bare back.
“I guess she does, even if she’s mean. Jesus, I can’t believe I just needed to talk to her sooner.”
“That’s usually how things work—it’s called communication, and you should talk to her.”
His eyes narrowed, and he smacked your ass, making you giggle. “There’s no need for the sass, sweetheart, and I was plannin’ on bitin’ the bullet and tellin’ her about us in the next couple of days.”
Your eyes widened. “You were? What?”
“Yeah, uh, I had a hard time with Ellie bein’ sick, and when you came over, I didn’t feel like I was goin’ insane with worry. Havin’ you there made it better, and I missed you.” His lips dip in a frown.
“I missed you, too—you were really gonna tell her?”
“I was.” He nods. “With how happy she was to see you, I thought maybe she’d be okay with it.” He shrugs.
You smile. “I think you’re right,” you reply, giving him a quick kiss. Meeting his gaze, you ask, “Is she feeling better?”
“Yeah, and thank Christ, she is.” He looks visibly relieved. “I think it was that soup you brought over—thank you for that and for givin’ me a chance to sleep.” He pecks you on the lips.
“It was no problem. I would’ve been there the entire time had it not been suspicious.”
He smiles. “I know.”
“Good. Sooo, I’m wondering, what are we now?”
“A couple,” he answers. “I’ve thought that for a while, but I’m too fuckin’ old to be callin’ myself your boyfriend.”
“I quite like having a sexy, older boyfriend.”
You squeak in surprise when he rolls you onto your back, your legs automatically opening for him to nestle his hips between. He’s holding himself up with his arms beside your head while yours loop around his neck, his lips pressing to the side of your throat, kissing the taut skin.
“You like havin’ a sexy, older boyfriend, huh?” His question is muffled, and you swallow hard when he sucks on your pulse point.
“I do,” you reply.
“I like havin’ you.” He’s kissing and nibbling along your jaw.
“‘Cause no one else can?”
He nips your chin, then hovers his head over yours to look you in the eyes.
His expression is serious. “Yes,” he says, “and I love you—if Ellie really doesn’t give a shit about me datin’, then every fuckin’ person in town is gonna know you’re mine.”
And something about that declaration thrills you.
“I’d like that.”
He gives you a small smile and kisses you for a moment before a thought comes to him, and he pulls back to meet your gaze.
“Maybe that neighbor, the annoyin’ one who doesn’t seem to know the meanin’ of no, will finally get it through her head, I’m not fuckin’ interested.”
You glare off into the distance. “Fucking Sandra,” you seethe.
The first time he met you, Joel knew he was fucked.
All he wanted to do was be polite and introduce himself to his new neighbor, then you opened the door, and his brain stopped working because you were so beautiful. It didn’t help when you blatantly checked him out, clearly undressing him with your eyes before looking entirely too pleased with what you were seeing.
If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he wouldn’t have accepted your offer to come inside for a drink; he wouldn’t have kissed you back or laid you down on the couch to eat your pussy; he wouldn’t have let you choke on his dick or crawl into his lap and ride him; he wouldn’t have gotten so lost in being buried in your wet, warm, perfect cunt and your lips on his that he forgot to pull out when he came; he wouldn’t have gotten addicted and returned to you almost every night after.
If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he would’ve ended things before it went too far and definitely before he fell in love with you.
From the beginning, he knew he was way too old for you, and he didn’t understand why you wanted him or kept letting him into your house. He had nothing to offer you, yet even when the opportunities arose for you to go home with men your own age, you rejected them and welcomed him into your bed instead. It made little sense that someone as young and beautiful as you would give someone like him all of your attention.
He’s lost count of how many times he’s told you that you’d be better off with somebody younger than him. It’s usually when he remembers your age or when you don’t know what he’s talking about when he brings up certain things from how life was before it all went to hell. He says the words out loud, practically a reflex at this point when the guilt gets to him, and as quickly as the feeling comes, it goes because, as he told you, he’s selfish; he doesn’t want you with someone else; he wants you all to himself. When you tell him there isn’t anyone you’d rather be with than him, it feeds something deep inside of him that won’t let you go, and hearing you say you love him has only made it stronger—you have his total devotion.
Ellie being sick messed up his head enough that in the moments when you came to mind, he was plagued with the thought that you probably found someone new. The only time he felt a modicum of peace was when you stopped by, and with that and how much his kid loved you being there, and in general, he came to the conclusion he couldn’t lose you:
It was time for him to tell Ellie.
Joel isn’t delusional; you’d grow tired of only getting his nights and the occasional day, eventually, and he needed to give you more of himself, which required his daughter to know about your relationship.
If Ellie knew, then he could give you more.
He’s ashamed of himself for hiding your relationship and, in turn, not having much to offer in terms of a future. It bothers him so much that he hasn’t been able to be with you out in the open because you deserve better than being his dirty little secret, as you call yourself.
He hates that.
He wants everyone to know you’re his and that he is yours.
When he realized he was going to tell Ellie, he started imagining how your relationship would change. You could finally have a life together, and it had him thinking about things he never would’ve considered before you and actively tried to prevent in the past, but you didn’t mind the idea of bringing a new life into the world, and he thought that might not be so bad; Jackson’s safe, and he has no doubt you’ll be a great mother—and it’s a future he’s pretty sure you want since your reactions have always been positive when he accidentally finishes inside you. That’s why tonight he decided to say fuck it and asked if he could; he wasn’t worried about the consequences anymore.
He’s kicking himself in the ass for not talking to Ellie sooner.
The only reason he hasn’t broached the subject with her is after what happened in Colorado, Joel’s treated her like she’s a fragile piece of glass that he doesn’t want to risk getting broken again—the way she lost her spark after that resort town killed him; and what happened at the hospital? If he had the chance, he’d murder every one of those Fireflies again for how fucked up she was when he told her their plans to kill her without knowing for sure if they could make a cure or not and that her life meant nothing to them.
It took a lot of time for him to put her back together again, and being in Jackson helped a lot with her making friends and having some semblance of normalcy. But he’s worried any major changes will mess her up, and add in her biggest fear of ending up alone, Joel dating seems like a recipe for disaster—Ellie will always be his top priority, even if it’s at the expense of his happiness.
It’s early morning, and he’s got another thirty minutes before the sun will begin its ascent on the horizon, fresh snow coating the ground, the temperature freezing. Joel is skulking home from your place to be there before Ellie wakes up.
His point of entry is the back door that leads into their kitchen, which doesn’t make as much noise as the front and can be locked when he leaves. He’s staying close to the side of the house, heading toward the backyard, and peeks around the corner to check the vicinity—his heart pounds when he sees a dark figure trying to get into the door, Joel pulling the knife, he walks around with, off of his belt, keeping his steps light, silently approaching them.
“Why the fuck don’t we have a light back here?” he hears them quietly mutter.
“Ellie?” Joel says at regular volume.
“Ahhh!” she screams, turning in his direction. Her hand is over her winter coat-covered chest. “Jesus Christ, Joel! Way to give me a fucking heart attack!”
He walks closer, sheathing his knife, as he says, “What the hell are you doin’ out here?”
“What the hell are you doing out here?”
His hands perch on his hips. “Doesn’t matter—you, on the other hand, just got over bein’ sick and shouldn’t be out in this cold. Move, I’m gettin’ your ass inside.”
She stepped aside, and he walked over, quickly unlocking and opening the door; he grabbed her by the shoulder and firmly guided her inside. He flicked on the room’s light once they were inside, and the door was closed and locked, Joel crossing his arms over his chest.
“Now, where the fuck have you been?” he asks.
She’s unzipping her coat. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“I asked you first.”
She shrugs off her jacket and tosses it onto the kitchen table. Joel sighs, walking over to pick it up—he’ll hang it alongside his by the front door before he goes up to his room.
“I was at the same place you were.”
He keeps his face neutral, but his heart is thudding, and he’s pretty fucking sure she wasn’t at your house.
He meets her eyes. “And that is?”
She smirks. “My secret girlfriend’s.”
“Goddammit.” His fingers press to his forehead as he closes his eyes. “You fuckin’ know—how the fuck do you know?”
“Let’s see, she’s literally the only person in town aside from me and Tommy’s family you like. You stare at her with, I don’t know what to call them, googly eyes? It’s that look the dudes have when they see the love of their life, or whatever, in those shitty romantic movies we like to make fun of. I’ve heard you call her ‘sweetheart’—” She fake gags, and Joel sighs. “—you’ve gone over to her house to fix so much shit that, at this point, it’s gotta be a whole new house. You sneak over there every fucking night. Oh, and when she sees the lady next door, the crazy one who’s got a real hard-on for you—gross by the way—when she sees ‘you can call me, Sandy,’ flirt with you—double-gross—I’m pretty sure she’s plotting murder; you’re definitely plotting murder when guys hit on your girlfriend—which, I don’t get why the two of you pretend like you aren’t together; is she embarrassed that you’re so fucking old and ugly, or something?” His teeth clench, and he glares at her. “God, don’t give me the murder eyes, Joel! I was kidding!” She playfully punches his arm. “Kind of… I mean, I’m happy you found someone who loves you even though you’re a grumpy asshole and look like that.” She points at his face.
“You done?”
“Telling you you’re old and ugly? Sure. For now. But I have one more thing that gave you guys away.”
His eyebrow lifts. “What is it?”
“When she came over the other day while I was sick as balls and hung out with me, you slept. Joel, you do not fucking sleep if there’s anyone else here besides me, which is why if I wanna have a sleepover with my friends, I have to go to their houses.”
“Were we really that obvious?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”
She’s clearly confused. “I thought we were avoiding the topic.”
“What topic?”
“Like, relationships—you never said anything to me, so I figured it was something we don’t talk about.”
He cringes. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel…”
She smiles. “I don’t give a fuck if you date, Joel—if you’re happy, I’m happy.”
He matches her look. “I’m pretty fuckin’ happy. Are you happy with your uh, girlfriend? Have I met her?”
“Yeah,” she nods, grinning. “It’s Cat!”
His eyes round—he was under the impression Cat is her best friend, and he has met the other girl many times.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re way better at this secret girlfriend stuff than I am. I had no clue. I like Cat; she’s got all those neat tattoos.”
“She does!” she replies with a grin. “And I’m getting one!”
“You’re what?!”
Masterlist - One Shot
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#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller/reader#joel miller x reader#joel the last of us#joel miller smut#wheresarizona writes#joel miller x you#Joel miller/yo
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the morning after
Gif by @pedropascalsx
Authors note: Joel has consumed me (much like everyone!) and I couldn't help but write more for these two. Hope you enjoy more Neighbour!Joel (Thanks to my bestie @wheresarizona for encouraging me and to my literal wife @foli_vora for being the best)
Read part 1 here
Pairing: Young Joel Miller x F!Reader
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: 18+ no minors, piv sex, dirty talk, creampie, fluff, flirty Joel which I think needs it own warning- let me know if I missed any!
Masterlist Series Masterlist next chapter
———
It's his alarm that wakes you both, you hadn't even realized you'd fallen asleep,
You yawn, a full body stretch around the strong wall of him behind you. You know he hadn’t meant to stay the night, but at some point the pillow talk had lulled, the warmth of him, the softness of you—neither of you stood a chance. He sighed from behind you, shutting his phone off with a groan.
“Morning neighbour.” You settle back into a comfortable position, enjoying the feeling of him caged around you.
“Mmm.” He moves with you, his hand running along the soft skin of your belly, his nose skimming along the curve of your shoulder. “Mornin’ sugar.” He presses a kiss to your skin and you can’t help but scoot back, press yourself as close as you can.
You feel it then, the hard line of his cock against the curve of your ass, sending a bolt of arousal through you.
“I gotta go baby, Sarah will be up soon, and Tommy will be up my ass soon.” Even as he says the words, his hand sweeps up from your belly, to your breast, your nipple hardening almost painfully in his palm. You pout to yourself.
“Stop teasing me then.” You arch into his touch, relishing his warmth. “You want some coffee before you go?” You resign yourself to move but he tightens his hold, rolls you onto your back and slots his hips between your thighs.
“On second thought, I think I got time.” He presses kisses to your chest, his mouth on a pilgrimage from one shoulder to the other. Your hands find the smooth skin of his ribs, on a trip of their own to map out every inch of him you can reach.
You sigh, the sound content, it’s so lovely to have him here filling up the space in your bed and between your legs.
“Time to tease? Or time to fuck me before you leave?” You roll your hips against him, arousal flowing and he groans to feel himself slotted between the lips of your sex.
“You’re gonna be the death of me woman.” He surges up to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss, his arms bracketing the sides of your head as your legs bracket his hips. His tongue dances with yours, rocketing the arousal up, into the stratosphere. He makes you feel like a teenager again, heart racing, breathless excitement.
He moves to kiss your neck, trailing his lips down until his teeth tug at your nipple and you reward him with a gasp. He soothes the delicious pinch with his tongue, ruthless with the sensitive bud, and then the other until you whine.
His eyes find yours, lively and dark and full of want.
“I have to make sure you’re wet enough to take me.” He uses his teeth again and you gasp, again he soothes. “Make sure that perfect little cunt can handle my big dick.” You pull him up, needing to taste his mouth again.
It’s all teeth and tongues, gentle and not so gentle bites to each other's lips until you feel him reach down, slot himself at the mouth of your cunt and slide in tauntingly slow, soothing the ache of emptiness.
Your cunt flutters around the stretch of him, the wet suck of it keeping him inside while he takes a breath.
“Jesus christ woman,” He sounds wrecked, forehead pressed against your cheek. “So fucking wet, so tight, gonna finish this party before we even start.” You laugh, breathless.
“Feels so fucking good Joel–I just want you here all day.” You clench around him and the groan he lets out is filthy.
“Don’t tempt me, woman, I have responsibilities.” His thrusts are lazy, unhurried and they make your mind blank. “Much as I want to stay right here.” He punctuates his words with a harder punch of his hips, it makes you cry out. “You’d like that wouldn’t you sugar, my cock buried nice and deep all day.” He lifts his head to look down where you’re joined and he moans, you know he can see himself, all glossy and slick with you.
“Yes, yes, harder–oh–” He braced himself, and quickened his pace, a wet obscene sound fills the space and it’s getting harder and harder to form a coherent thought.
“Fuck, fuck you feel so fucking good, I’m gonna come soon baby, I need you to come first.” His tone has lost its playfulness, replaced with an urgency that gives credence to his words.
You reach down and circle your fingers around your clit and that familiar heat blooms in your spine, in your breasts and in your belly. He dips his head and takes a nipple into his mouth and you burst. A shudder rolls through your body, the pleasure a wave cresting across every inch of you and it pulls him right down with you.
He comes with a cry, burying himself as deep as he can, grinding his come into the very heart of you.
“Jesus.” The word is a pant against your skin, his face is shiny with exertion, so beautiful in the golden light of the early morning. “What a way to start the day.” You laugh, giddy with joy and pleasure and he’s not wrong.
“Give me a second to catch my breath and I’ll make us some coffee.” You hold onto his face in both your hands, covering it in kisses and he smiles so wide the dimple is on full display.
“You’re gonna spoil me.”
“Only if you let me.” You keep kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him pressed up tight.
“Oh I’m fixin’ to let you.” His beard is scratchy, it tickles when he buries his face into the crook of your neck and you can’t help but laugh, lost in the euphoria of his affection until his phone trills again.
“Fuck–What time is it? Yes baby girl,” He answers the phone, panicking now, suppressing a hiss when he pulls out and away. “Oh god, okay okay, give me a few minutes and I’ll be right there. Tell uncle Tommy to hold his horses. Did you eat breakfast?” He’s pacing around the room, collecting different articles of clothing while you put on some clothes. “Okay see you in a minute.”
He puts on his t-shirt and opens the door to your bedroom, nearly tripping over Tucker where he lays on the floor. “Christ, sorry boy–” You both make your way down and he all but runs towards the door before turning to find you behind him. “Sorry for runnin’ out like this, can I see you later?” His hand finds your lower back, pulling you in for a quick kiss.
“Of course, I’ll be here.” You pull him down for another quick kiss and then he’s gone.
You hear him apologizing to his daughter, she’s standing on the porch, a very amused smile on her face when she tells him his shirt is on inside out. You close the door with a smile, and set about getting ready for the day.
-
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#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#joelyyyy#joel miller x female reader#joel miller#young joel miller#young joel#tlou fanfiction#tlou hbo#hbo tlou#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal
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Here are some fics that I really love!! <3
(I add more when I remember others or read new ones)
I also invite you to check my masterlist and read my stuff <3
Divider by @saradika-graphics and banner by me
Narcos
Javier Peña
Learning to live by @wheresarizona (series)
Javier Peña x f!reader
The crush by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (series)
Javier Peña x OFC!Isabel
Deja vú by @ilovepedro (series)
Javier Peña x f!reader
Old habits die hard by @liltangerineart (series)
Javier Peña x latina f!reader
Take the weight off his shoulders by @thetriumphantpanda (series)
dbf!Javier Peña x f!reader
Late night texts by @undercoverpena (series)
Javier Peña x f!reader
Jealous of your love by @chloeangelic (one-shot)
Javier Peña x f!reader
Anytime by @undercoverpena (one-shot)
Javier Peña x f!reader
The Bubble
Dieter Bravo
Sweet Creature by @wildemaven (series)
Dieter Bravo x f!reader
I'll never fall in love again by @oonajaeadira (series)
Dieter Bravo x f!reader
Cherry by @sp00kymulderr (series)
Dieter Bravo x f!reader x f!OC
Triple Frontier
Benny Miller
Wild Love by @wildemaven (series)
Benny Miller x single mom!reader
Frankie Morales
Learning curves by @ezrasbirdie (series)
Frankie Morales x plus size f!reader
Hate me by @theewokingdead (one shot)
Frankie Morales x f!reader
Breaking free by @theewokingdead (one-shot)
Frankie Morales x plus size f!reader
Hungry by @criticallyacclaimedstranger (one-shot)
Frankie Morales x reader
Catalyst by @ezrasbirdie (series)
Frankie Morales x f!reader x Joel Miller
The book of love by @undercoverpena
Frankie Morales x f!reader (Bookshop AU)
Santiago Garcia
If you wanna be wild by @romanarose (series)
Santi Garcia x f!reader x Javier Peña
All triple frontier boys
Awakening by @romanarose (series) triple
Frontier boys x f!reader
The Last of Us
Joel Miller
To the rescue by @romanarose (one-shot)
Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
Love me back by @chloeangelic (series)
Joel Miller x f!reader
Rendezvous by @chloeangelic (series)
dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
Belong to me by @chloeangelic (series)
Line cook!Joel Miller x waitress reader
Reflection of the moon by @chloeangelic (series)
Joel Miller x f!reader
(I just really love how Chloe writes Joel)
I know it when I see it by @bageldaddy (series)
pornstar!joel miller x f!reader
Lacy by @toxic-seduction (one-shot)
Joel Miller x f!reader
I wanna show you off by @joelscurls (one-shot)
Joel Miller x f!reader
Breakout by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (series)
Boxer!Joel Miller x f!reader
Strawberry wine by @pedrito-friskito (series)
Joel Miller x f!OC
Your summer dream by @swiftispunk (series)
dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
Dog Days by @pimosworld
Tommy Miller
Joel Miller x f!reader
Sweet Child O'Mine by @bageldaddy (series)
Joel Miller x f!reader
Wrong place, right time by @proxima-writes (one-shot)
Tommy Miller x waitressf!reader
#fic rec#fic recommendation#fanfic recommendation#fanfiction#fanfic#fic#javier peña#joel miller#dieter bravo#frankie morales#santiago garcia#benny miller#triple frontier#narcos#the bubble#the last of us#narcos fic#triple frontier fic#the bubble fic#the last of us fic#javier peña fic#joel miller fic#benny miller fic#santiago garcia fic#frankie morales fic#dieter bravo fic
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2023 & Me
Been thinking a lot these past few days about everything that's happened with me in 2023. Hard to believe it's coming to end--time seriously does fly 😮
There's been some heavy losses this year. Several family members passed away to illnesses and old age, including my grandfather who I had a strained relationship with to say the least. I also had a shocking family drama bomb dropped on me earlier this month that has had a huge ripple effect I'm still navigating, but fingers crossed things will find a way of working out for the best.
I had some severe mental health depression episodes throughout the year, made me reevaluate priorities and also doubt pretty much every choice I've ever made in life, but I do truly believe I'm entering 2024 in a positive mindset so that's something to be happy about :) I'mma try this crazy concept called self-love and not think the worst about me, myself, and I.
My writing took a hit this year. Word count wise, kudos wise, engagement wise--but I also made progress on several wips and even finished a few which is a big accomplishment for a snail writer like me 😊 I want to enter 2024 not feeling guilty for being self-indulgent or trying new kinds of writing styles. I also want to shake off the belief a low note count equals it was a bad fic/waste of time -- I don't believe that for anyone else, yet my brain always uses it as a weapon of insecurity against myself and enough is enough brain 😠 no more I say!
On a more positive note, I was fortunate enough to attend several conventions this year and improve my cosplay skills (2024 Ahsoka is gonna be my best look yet I just know it 😁). I got to meet total sweethearts Jon Bernthal and Charlie Cox, Steve Burns my childhood hero, the dear Jodi Benson, the gorgeous Rosario Dawson and beautiful Ming-Na Wen, and of course I can't ever forget Andrew Garfield 😱💗 And most importantly of all I did each these cons with my sister and made some lifelong memories! (Also bought a heckin lot of stickers. A heckin lot 🥰)
And then of course the crown jewel of 2023 1000% hands down was attending the United States Formula 1 Grand Prix. Good lord y'all it was one of the best weekends of my entire life! If you had asked me a couple years ago if I'd care about a sport--any sport--I'd have laughed in your face but there's just something so addictive and captivating about the world of F1 and its cast of characters. And having the luck of getting Alex Albon and Daniel Ricciardo's autographs on my dumb lil frog bucket hat was just *muffled screaming* I literally was a shaking mess lemme tell ya--just ask @beecastle and @undercoverpena who were there with me on my phone every step of the way 💜 thanks for putting up with my addiction y'all! Much much love to you both!!
AND THE FRIGGIN FACT SOMEONE GOT A PHOTO OF ME AND DANNY TOGETHER 🥺😭😭 NEVER BE OVER IT NOPE
There are so many people on here that made 2023 a bright and kind and fun one for me---@oonajaeadira @something-tofightfor @wheresarizona @trinkets01 @kyberblade @sofasoap @grogusmum @writeforfandoms @psychedelic-ink @kteague @prolix-yuy @wildemaven @the-blind-assassin-12 @practicalghost @gnpwdrnwhiskey @bishtrouille @nothoughtsjustmeds @kirsteng42 @miraclesabound @radiowallet @harriedandharassed @hopeamarsu and dozens dozens dozens more!
Thank you to everyone who's liked, reblogged, commented on my blog + sent me messages! I appreciate and love you all so much more than words can ever express 💜💗💙🧡
2024---let's bring it on! 🥳
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An Unexpected Confession {Marcus Pike x F! Reader}
Summary: Marcus Pike is dreading returning home for the holidays. Dreading the inevitable questions about his non-existent and frankly sad love life. But an unexpected confession from his best friends little sister changes things.
Info: Reader has no physical descriptions other than having hair please note that she as referred to Bunny - her childhood nickname - multiple times throughout the story.
Warnings: Legal age gap, fluff, Oral (Fem receiving), Some flirty texting, Phone sex, Masturbation (M&F), Unprotected sex, Creampie, Mentions of food, Eating, Little bit of controlling parentage, Mentions of terrible Hallmark movies and a VERY cheesy ending.
Word Count: 10,000+ (Yeah this one got away from me a little).
A/N: Marcus Pike might be my kryptonite. I absolutely struggled with this one. I love this character, I love canon Marcus and Fanfic Marcus and trying to do him justice and failing absolutely terrified me. This is the first time I've successfully finished writing a Marcus Pike fic and I really hope you all enjoy it.
Thank you to my gorgeous beta @wheresarizona for beta’ing and being so wonderfully supportive.
Thank you to @whataperfectwasteoftime @honestly-shite @theewokingdead and @ezrasbirdie for being so lovely and supportive and keeping me motivated.
He sat for a few minutes, rubbing his palms against his jean-clad thighs. The sound of his fellow passengers scrambling to get off the plane made him roll his eyes. Four days. Just four days at home. He could do this.
Before he knew it, he’d be back on the plane and ready to return to DC, he just needed to get Thanksgiving at home over and done with.
He stood slowly and pulled his backpack from the overhead compartment before swiftly exiting the plane and making his way into the airport and down to collect his rental car.
Four days at home with his parents and siblings, their partners, and their kids. It would be nice, he reasoned with himself, he hadn’t met his youngest brother's new baby yet, and it would be lovely to spend time with his newest niece.
He’d barely gotten into his rental when his phone began to ring, and he grinned at the name flashing up on his phone.
“You keeping tabs on me?” he chuckled into the phone as his best friend Mike instructed him to meet him at a bar instead of going straight to his parent's house.
“A beer sounds great,” Marcus says as he buckled his seatbelt, “Text me the address, and I’ll come straight over.”
*
The bar was new, sleek, and modern. It was situated in the same spot where Marcus’ parents took him shoe shopping for years as a child. It seemed that every time he returned home, more and more had changed and became even more unrecognizable.
“Pike!” He heard from the corner of the bar, and he couldn’t stop the huge grin from spreading across his face, “Get your ass over here.”
He quickly pulled his friend in for a hug and greeted a few others he hadn’t seen or spoken to in a while. Marcus took the time to catch up and chat quietly with each of them, and before he knew it, one beer had turned into several.
After a while, they had been joined by Mike's dad, who was thrilled to see Marcus again, and he’d suggested they take it back to his house for a few more beers and some takeout pizza. An idea that went down very well with all the guys.
It was dark by the time they made it back to the Anderson household. All cars were left in the bar parking lot as they scrambled into the back of a few cabs after coming to the sensible conclusion that they were all too drunk to drive.
*
Snuggled up in your bed, you heard the commotion downstairs and rolled your eyes. With your container of Chinese food comfortably nestled in your lap, and an oversized glass of wine in your hand, you giggled at what would most definitely be a messy evening downstairs and resumed your Netflix marathon.
Blissfully unaware that the man you’d harboured a massive crush on for years was having the time of his life in your kitchen - the man that had no clue that you were madly in love with him and still referred to you as your childhood nickname, Bunny.
*
The next morning rolled around quickly, you’d slept better than you had in weeks, and you quickly dove back into the same routine you’d lived for years.
The first few weeks were tougher than you’d imagined they’d be, returning home after graduating college. You’d studied Criminology and Criminal Justice at A&M University, and the only job offers you’d had so far were out of state, and your parents weren’t happy about you leaving Texas. You missed the freedom you had living in your own apartment and being able to come and go as you pleased.
But you knew you had the next few hours to yourself, the rest of the house still sleeping soundly, you climbed out of bed and made your way downstairs. Stomach rumbling with excitement for the pancakes you were about to indulge in.
Slipping into the kitchen, you switch the radio on before turning your attention to preparing the batter. Grabbing it all out of the pantry and placing it on the countertop. You took a large handful of chocolate chips and start to pop them into your mouth whilst beginning to measure out the ingredients.
*
The soft humming of the music pulls him from his slumber, his head pounding as a consequence of the countless beers he’d consumed the night before.
“Fuck,” he mumbles as he pulls himself upright, still dressed in the same clothes as the day before. He stands up and follows the music in his search for a much-needed glass of water.
He stumbles, almost choking on the air at what greets him in the kitchen.
You’re still leaning over the counter, measuring out some milk as he enters, the music drowning out his footsteps. He’s greeted by the sight of your barely covered ass, wiggling along to the music as your too-tight t-shirt continues to rise up over your hips.
His cock throbs in his pants at the sight of you, feeling himself growing harder and harder and having to pull at the front of his jeans to readjust himself. Guilt rises from the pit of his stomach as he realizes that he’s growing hard over his best friend's sister.
His best friend’s not-so- little sister.
You took a step back, and he clears his throat to announce his presence, the gasp that left your throat was much louder than you could have expected as you spun around to see Marcus standing awkwardly in the doorframe.
Your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you start apologizing profusely.
“Hey,” he soothed, putting his hands up in a placating gesture, “I should have said something sooner. I just didn’t want to startle you.”
“I didn’t know you were here,” you say a little too quickly back.
“Yeah. I uh-” he scratched at the back of his neck, “Met your brother and your dad for a few drinks, and they turned into a few more.”
“Oh,” you reply, pulling at the threadbare t-shirt you’re wearing and immediately realizing just how exposed you are, “Shit. I didn’t..”
“It’s okay,” he says with a slight chuckle, “I didn’t know either. I’ll let you finish up.”
“Do you want some?” You ask as he turns on his heel.
He raises an eyebrow, and you push again, “Some pancakes? Chocolate chip?” You ask as you force down a giggle.
“I love chocolate chip,” he says with a grin. “Sounds great.”
“Cool.”
You pop down to the guest bathroom and pull on the robe hanging from the back of the door before bouncing back into the kitchen, and you see Marcus setting the table. Pouring out two glasses of orange juice as you start frying up the pancake batter.
You place the large stack on a plate and grab the maple syrup from the pantry and butter from the fridge before taking a seat in front of him.
“Help yourself,” you say with a shy smile before bouncing back up and out of your chair. “I almost forgot.”
You rifle through one of the drawers and pull out a small bottle of Advil and place it in front of him, seeing him blush pink before offering you a smile of gratitude.
“So how’s college, bunny?” He asks with a wink after taking two pills, and you groan in response.
“Bunny? Really?” You ask, and he laughs back at you.
“It suits you. Always has. Always bouncing around like a little bunny, it’s cute.”
“It’s childish,” you say before shoving a forkful of pancakes in your mouth and swallowing quickly. “You know I’m not a child anymore?”
He swallows at your admission and fights back the urge to tell you he knows. Instead, he just takes a few more bites of his pancakes and sips his orange juice.
“I graduated,” you say before taking a small sip of your own drink, “Got a few job offers. One in California, was offered something in Montana, and uh, I've been invited to interview for a position in DC.” You say with a slight shrug of your shoulders.
“Shit! That’s fantastic,” he says before reaching over and giving your hand a squeeze, “DC is incredible. Are you going to do it?”
“I’m not sure. My parents are not keen on me leaving the state,” you say with a sad smile, “But I’d like to. I mean, I doubt I’d get it but starting off my career in DC would be kind of perfect.”
“You gotta think about what’s best for you, bunny. Think about what you want.”
You nod in agreement, and you both sit in silence for a few minutes, occasionally sharing a soft smile and a fleeting glance before he breaks the silence.
“What do you want, bunny?” He asks as his eyes meet yours. Those gorgeous brown orbs burning into yours as his question floats in the air.
You , is your first thought, and you blush at the thought of accidentally letting that escape from your throat - the thoughts flashing up in your head making your panties dampen.
“Freedom,” you whisper quietly, “Being able to do what I want to do without fear that I’m letting everyone down. Being able to go wherever is best for me and not for everyone else.”
“Agree to the interview,” he says before wiping his mouth and hands on the napkins he laid out. “Even if it’s not for you, you’ll get to see how beautiful DC is.”
He stands up and takes his plate and glass to the sink, washing them up and popping them in the rack to dry.
“I better be getting home, and I've got to pick my rental up from the bar.”
“Do you need a ride?” You ask as you take your dirty dishes to the sink, dumping them in but deciding they can wait until later, “I need to pop to Target anyway.”
“You sure?” He asks before scratching the back of his neck, looking unsure.
“Positive,” you say with a smile, “Just need to get dressed. Give me ten minutes?”
“Perfect.“
*
The drive to the bar is quicker than you anticipated, you’d both engaged in a little small talk, and he teased you about the first time he saw you drive a car, making you want to melt with embarrassment.
“Don’t know how you didn’t see that mailbox, bunny,” he needles with a loud roar of laughter, and before you had a second to register the words falling out of your mouth, they did.
“I was distracted by you.”
An awkward giggle forces its way out of your throat as you attempt to change the subject, a look of pure confusion painted across Marcus’ face as you do so.
“We’re here,” you say, looking down at you the steering wheel, “Have a—”
“You were distracted?” He asks quietly. “By me?”
“Marcus, I-I,” you sigh loudly before a small fit of giggles starts to fall out from between your lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanksgiving at the Pike’s, right?”
He hums in response, eyes still fixated on you as he unbuckles his seat belt and starts to climb out of your car. “You bringing that world-famous apple pie cheesecake thing?” he asks as he steps out onto the sidewalk.
“Of course,” you say, looking up at him with a small smile. “See you tomorrow, Marcus.”
“See you tomorrow, bunny.”
*
You’re not sure how long you sat in the parking lot outside the Target for, rerunning that day over and over in your head.
It was many years previous, and you’d barely had your driver's license a month, seeing your brother standing on your drive talking loudly to someone out of your eyesight, and you’re not sure how you did it, but the sight of Marcus Pike walking out of your house and towards your brother made your breath hitch, and you somehow took out your family’s mailbox.
The sound of your brother's laughter still rung in your ears when you think about it now, Marcus looking across at you with those big brown eyes filled with worry as you climbed out of your car, drowning in embarrassment, the embarrassment being pushed away by ugly jealousy when you looked back over at him and saw his new bride (now ex-wife) wrapping her arms around his waist, all of them giggling at your predicament.
“Ugh,” you growl before stepping out of your car to head into the store, “Baking supplies and other shit that Target tells me I need to buy,” you grumble to yourself.
*
The rest of the day flies by in a blur. You stocked your car with the sodas and beers ready for the next morning, prepared a few of the side dishes, and wrapped the gift your mother had asked you to pick up as a thank you for Mrs. Pike.
You barely had time to fret over your little admission earlier that day and the look of shock etched across his stupid gorgeous face as he asked you if you’d really been distracted by him. How could you not have been? You think to yourself as you climb the stairs to your room, ready to settle in for the night.
Your phone had been charging the entire time you were downstairs, sitting idly on your windowsill and forgotten about. You pick it up to set an alarm, and a text from an unknown number lights up on your screen from almost an hour ago.
Thank you for the ride earlier, bunny, and for breakfast. Not sure if this is still your number - Mom had it scribbled down in her address book. See you tomorrow - MARCUS PIKE.
You giggle at the way he typed his whole name at the end of the message, and a smile creeps across your face as you punch out a reply.
You’re welcome, Marcus. Hope you didn’t get in too much trouble for not making it back home yesterday. Will see you tomorrow, getting up extra early to ensure you have plenty of pie. Goodnight 💕
Looking forward to diving into your pie. Goodnight - MARCUS PIKE.
You giggle again at his clearly unintentional innuendo before punching out your last text and setting your alarm.
You don’t need to type your whole name at the end of every text, Marcus. See you tomorrow.
Oh, good to know. See you. - Marcus ;-)
“Dork,” you whisper out loud before putting your phone down and climbing into bed, “Oh, I’m so fucked.”
*
You stood quietly at the door, standing behind your parents, your brother, and his wife clutching three of the pie/cheesecake hybrid you'd created out of curiosity a few years back in your hand. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves.
Of course, it has to be Marcus who whips open the front door, standing there with that gorgeous adorable smile, dressed in a tight grey t-shirt and comfortable jeans, scolding yourself internally for the way your breath hitches upon seeing him.
“Come on in,” he says as he stands back. “Everyone has been banished to the living room. No one enters the kitchen without my Mom’s written consent,” he says with a loud chuckle.
“Hello, Marcus Pike,” you say with a little grin as you stand in front of him.
“Hello, Bunny,” he replies with a smile that matches yours before gesturing at your hands “Pie?”
“Two for today, one for you to take home or eat whenever,” you shrug.
You’re not sure what to expect, but you certainly weren't expecting his next movement. Without another word, he bent down and placed a kiss that slightly lingered on your cheek before pulling away and giving you a small thank you. Leaving you standing alone in the hallway as he whisked the pies out of your hands and took them down into the kitchen.
After a few moments, you slip off your shoes and made your way into the living room. Both families are engaging in general chit-chat whilst the kids are mesmerized by the Disney movie playing on the tv.
“Are you cold?” Marcus asks as he walks up from behind you and gently grabs at the sleeve of your coat.
“Oh, no. It’s lovely in here, I-uh-I just forgot to take it off,” you say, skin heating a little as he stands in front of you, unknowingly taunting you with a flash of dimple, “I'll go take it off.” You murmur before heading back towards the hallway as Marcus goes to chat with your brother.
You hang it up in the closet before stepping into the guest bathroom to take a quick look at yourself, admiring the dress you’d ordered after one too many glasses of wine. It was pretty. It was gorgeous, in fact. White with pink roses, a ruffled necklace, and a split that shows off a smidge of thigh. Innocent but with a hint of sexy. You’d worn it with one person in mind, and you take a deep breath before stepping out and wondering if he’ll even notice you in it.
*
He was pretty sure everyone in the room heard him gasp - the sight of you walking back into the room, wearing a dress that seemed tailor-made for you, and just about took his breath away.
“Look at you,” Mrs. Pike gushed as you blushed in the doorway, “You get more and more beautiful every time I see you.”
Marcus could tell you were a little embarrassed and noted the shiver of anxiety that seemingly ran through you as you stood there, fingers interlocking whilst staring down at the ground.
“So, who needs a beer?” He asked after clearing his throat and stepping towards you, giving you a small wink as he did so. “Think you can help me, Bunny?”
You follow him into the kitchen and watch as he leaned into the refrigerator, seeing the muscles in his back and shoulders stretch under the material of his shirt. You hate yourself for being unable to look away, and it wasn’t until he turns back around to you and starts popping the beer bottles down on the countertop that you’re able to look away from him.
“Bottle opener is in the top drawer,” he says before grabbing a few bottles of juice for the kids.
“I know,” you say with a grin, “I’ve been here before.”
You start to pop open the bottles, dropping the caps in the little glass container on the counter that Marcus’ dad kept there for recycling.
“You-uh, you look really nice,” he stutters as he scratches the back of his neck, “I mean, you always look nice, but yeah, you uh- you look beautiful. Really beautiful.”
You giggle at the bashful look on his face as you feel embarrassment heat up in yours, “Thank you, Marcus Pike.”
“You don’t have to use my full name, you know?” He teases back, both of you mirroring your conversation from last night.
“Oh, good to know,” you quip back with a wink.
*
You spent the next few hours chatting and catching up with the rest of Pike’s, stealing occasional glances at Marcus. Eventually, Mrs. Pike makes the announcement for dinner, and you just about skip into the dining room with excitement.
The table is set beautifully, and each dish is ready to be plated, making you just about drool in anticipation for the meal you’re about to feast on.
“You’re next to Marcus, dear,” Mrs. Pike announces as you look around the room.
He’s engaged in conversation with your father, who’s sat to his left as you sit down next to him. Mr. Pike takes charge of cutting the turkey and makes everyone say one thing they’re thankful for, hearing the usual, family, friendship, good health, and so on until it gets to you.
“What are you thankful for, bunny?” Mr. Pike asks with a charming grin, and it’s not hard to see where Marcus gets his from.
“Family,” you murmur, “Friends…” and just as he’s about to move on, you surprise yourself, “The chance to interview for a position within the FBI in DC.”
Half the table responds with their congratulations, the other half with surprise, and some with obvious disapproval.
“DC?” Your mother splutters. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t interview for a position in DC.”
“I haven’t responded to the invitation,” you squeak back, “Just thought it was nice that they’re thinking about me.” You shrug lightly and turn to Marcus, who’s next to answer the big question, and he immediately steps in to take the heat off of you.
“A new start, new beginnings, and the chance to see a wonderful new city,” he says before reaching down and giving your knee a reassuring squeeze.
Rest of the confessions over, you all dig into the seemingly endless supply of delicious food and chat amongst yourself. Purposely working hard to avoid your mother's glare as you eat your dinner.
“Can I be excused?” You ask as everyone finishes their meal, “I would like to finish preparing dessert if everyone’s ready for it.”
After a loud smattering of yeses and people cooing over your much anticipated dessert, you slip into the kitchen and finish the last bit of decoration.
Making sure to pop the store-bought and freshly reheated pumpkin pies on the tray for those who want them.
Just as you’re reaching into the fridge to grab the whipped cream, you hear footsteps behind you.
“Need any help?” Marcus’ voice calls out from the other side of the kitchen, “Thought you’d gotten lost in here.”
“Avoiding the daggers my mom is shooting from across the table,” you say with a giggle as you get the ice cream from the freezer, “I think I’ve gotten just about everything needed for dessert… Do you know of any strong, handsome men that would consider carrying in one of the trays for me?”
“I don’t know about handsome,” he blushes, “But I think I've got the strong part handled.”
“Eh, I think you’re doing pretty well in both departments,” you say with a giggle, “Let’s go eat.”
*
“Holy shit, bunny, it gets more delicious every time,” Marcus whispers into your ear after he demolishes his third piece of apple pie cheesecake.
You hate the way your thighs automatically clench together at his choice of words, completely innocent but somehow laced with some filthy unspoken desire that you couldn’t help but wish to hear in a completely different circumstance.
“Thank you, Marcus,” you glance over at him. “Hopefully, the one in the refrigerator will be just as delicious.”
“I have no doubts I'll be licking the pan clean,” he winks.
*
After dessert and football, your mom announces it’s time to leave the Pike’s in peace. You had spent the majority of the football game clearing up with your mom, listening to her rant about how interviewing in DC would be a silly mistake and how you’ll be crushed when they pick someone more experienced over you. Despite you informing her multiple times that it was entry-level.
The drive home is completely silent, you curse yourself for not taking your own car and making an excuse to go somewhere and wait in a line for some Black Friday shopping you didn’t want to do.
You practically skip upstairs to your bedroom, locking the door behind you and changing into a comfortable t-shirt and foregoing pajama pants.
You switch on some shitty holiday movie and get cozy in bed, trying to avoid thinking about the headache your mom is going to give you tomorrow when she inevitably grills you more and more about the interview.
The buzz from your phone makes you jump, and you groan as you roll over to pick it up.
Marcus Pike (1) new photo message.
A photo of the empty pie tray makes you giggle as you type out your reply.
Y: Wow! Someone was a hungry boy.
Marcus: Can never get enough of your pie. Would eat it every day. So good.
Y: You are aware of how filthy that sounds, right?
Marcus: Shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t. I am so sorry.
Y: Marcus, I’m playing with you. You’re adorable. No apologies needed.
Marcus: Meany. Thank you again, though. It was truly delicious, as always.
Y: You're welcome. Glad to see you’ve learned how to text a little better… No more signing your name?
Marcus: Oh, sorry ;-) - Marcus
Y: Ha ha. Thank you for your help today. Appreciated it.
Marcus: Anytime, bunny.
Y: Marcus, you do not need to keep calling me bunny.
Marcus: I like it.
Y: Ugh, I don’t. I’m not a little girl anymore, Pike.
Marcus: I’ve noticed.
You swallow the lump that forms in your throat, taking a large gulp of wine, and punch out your reply.
Y: Yeah? What have you noticed?
Marcus: You.
*
Marcus gulps as he types out the last text. You. He had noticed you. For the past 24 hours, he hasn’t been able to think of anything but how much he had been noticing you.
*
Y: Anything specific?
Marcus: Bunny…
Y: Marcus…
Marcus: You. I’ve noticed you. Everything about you. You’re different than before, still shy… but a little more confident. Looked gorgeous in that dress today too.
Y: You really think so?
Marcus: Yes, you’re gorgeous, bunny.
Y: You're gorgeous too. I’ve always thought so.
Marcus: Sweet girl.
Y: You think I'm sweet?
Marcus: I know you are… thinking about how sweet you are right now.
Y: You wanna find out?
Marcus: Bunny… this is a dangerous road for us to be going down.
You can’t ignore the disappointing feeling that starts to rise in your tummy.
Y: You don’t want me?
Marcus: I didn't say that. You’re a lot younger than me… you’re my best friend's little sister, and I just don’t want you to do something you might regret.
Y: I could never regret you.
Marcus: Sweet girl.
Y: You touched my knee earlier, and I thought I was going to melt, Marcus.
Marcus: Yeah? Fuck. Did I really affect you that much?
Y: Yes. You drive me insane. You have for years… Marcus, you don’t even know… you called me sweetheart at Christmas, and you have no idea what that did to me… what I did afterwards.
Marcus: Tell me.
*
He watches the text bubble pop up and disappear over and over again, and after the seventh or eighth time of watching the bubble disappear, he decides that he needs to check you’re okay. His finger hovers above the call button for a few seconds because pressing on it and slowly dragging it to his ear.
*
INCOMING CALL: MARCUS PIKE
“Fuck,” you groan as his name flashes up on your screen. With a tentative push of the button, you bring the phone to your ear and breathe out a breathy hello.
“Are you okay?” He blurts down the phone, “I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” The worry clearly dripping from each and every word and makes your whole chest clench.
“I’m fine,” you whisper back, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. You could never make me uncomfortable, Marcus.”
“Good. You-uh- you had me panicking there for a moment, sweetheart.”
He must have heard the shaky breath you exhaled the second the word left his lips, a silence lingering between the both of you for a few moments.
“Sorry,” he says barely above an audible whisper, “I didn’t think.”
“Please stop apologizing, Marcus. It’s fine, I’m just… I… I’ve had a bit of a crush on you for ages, and I just… I don’t want you to think of me as Mike’s silly little sister with a stupid little crush when it’s not just a cr—” you cut yourself off with a sigh, and much to your surprise, he responds with a small chuckle.
“I think we’ve both established you’re not little anymore,” he says, and you can almost hear the grin that’s splashed across his face.
“Yeah,” you purr back, “Good.”
“I’m not going to pretend you don’t have me intrigued as to what you did, though, sweet girl, but I won’t press you for an answer.”
You giggle down the phone, and it’s like music to his ears.
“I don’t think your mom would ever let me in her house again if she ever found out.”
“Can't say I was planning on sharing, sweetheart.”
“You’re doing that on purpose now, aren’t you?” You say with an exaggerated sigh.
“Mhmm, maybe…”
“Marcus…”
“Yes, Sweetheart.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m talking to you.”
“Oh.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m talking to you.”
“Bunny, do you not want to tell me?”
“I do. But I think you’ve already guessed.”
“I have an idea, but I don’t want to be presumptuous.”
“What do you think I did?”
He lightly scoffs, and it’s almost like you can hear his thoughts churning in his head; you’re certain he goes to speak a few times but stops himself each time.
“I think… fuck .”
“Do you think I snuck off and made myself cum to the thought of you calling me sweetheart?”
His voice drops lower than you’ve ever heard it, and you feel like you might just explode as he replies the deepest, “ Yes ” you’ve ever heard.
“That’s what I did.” You feel heat rise in your cheeks as you admit to it, a new bravery sweeping through you as you admit to the man that’s managed to unknowingly invade every thought you’d had for the past few years that you fucked your fingers in his parent's house whilst thinking of him.
“I bet you looked so fucking pretty,” he breathes out in response, voice still low, and somehow every word seems to be going straight to your pulsating core.
“Marcus,” you rasp out as you fight the urge to do something about the arousal creeping through your veins.
“Do you want to do it right now?” he asks, and a needy moan escapes through your lips, “Do you want to play with that pretty pussy, while I stroke my cock thinking about you? Thinking about how good you looked bent over the counter the other morning?”
“Yes,” you moan out as your fingers twist the bed sheets beneath you, “I want to hear you.”
“ Fuck ,” he grunts, and the sound of his phone dropping to his chest and his pants being kicked off floods through the speaker, “I’m so fucking hard for you, sweetheart. Can't stop thinking about how fucking pretty you are, how soft and so fucking sweet.”
The sound of him spitting into his hand makes your pussy clench as you reach into your panties and gasp at the amount of slick that’s coating your pussy. You smear a little across your little bundle of nerves and breathe out a moan of relief as you finally give your clit the attention it’s been screaming for - pulsating steadily under your hand as you rub perfect circles into it.
“Fuck,” Marcus grunts, “Feel good, baby?”
Another moan slips through your lips at the new endearment, and you want to beg for him to call you it over and over, “So fucking good, Marcus… Wi-wish it was you.”
“Yeah?” he growls as the sound of skin slapping against skin grows louder. “You want to feel my fingers in that tight little pussy?”
“Oh fuck , yes, yes,” you moan as your orgasm steadily draws closer, and you increase the pressure on your clit, rubbing harder and faster. The combined sounds of your moans and his groans coming together like the filthiest symphony ever created.
“Marcus, I’m gonna, I’m gonna come,” you gasp.
“Do it, baby, let me hear, fuck, I bet you look so pretty right now,” he rambles as he continues stroking his cock, wishing it was your warm heat clamped around him, bouncing up and down as he fucks up into you.
You come hard and fast with a moan of his name, and he quickly follows suit, the sounds of his grunts and groans being ripped through his throat with every pump and squeeze of his throbbing shaft, his bare stomach laced with ropes of his pearlescent spend.
“Holy shit,” he mutters as he reaches over to grab some tissues from his nightstand, “You okay over there?”
You giggle at his immediate concern for you as you slowly come out of your pleasure-filled haze.
“I’m good, really good. Are you okay?” you ask, and you shudder at the nervousness that had seeped in at the end of your question.
“Yeah, I’m good. That was uh— that was fucking incredible, baby.”
“It was… Holy shit, Marcus,” you blurt out as you fall into a fit of giggles, “That might have been my favourite Thanksgiving yet.”
“Yeah, I, I can’t say I was thrilled to be coming back,” he says before clearing his throat, “But you’ve certainly made it a nice homecoming.”
“Good, I'm glad I made the trip a little better… We should probably get some sleep,” you say after glancing at the time on your watch, “Speak tomorrow?”
“Shit, it’s late. I didn’t realize. Yeah, I’ll text you in the morning. Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
“Goodnight, Marcus Pike.”
That night you dream of him. Remembering pieces that you can’t quite fit together the next morning but enough to make your heart flutter with anticipation.
*
The house is eerily quiet as you make your way down into the kitchen, robe wrapped around you as the autumn chill makes itself known in every corner of your childhood home.
Your phone perched comfortably inside the pocket, waiting for a text from Marcus to light it up.
It doesn’t take long, you’re pouring the milk into your cheerios as it quietly vibrates against your hip.
Are you free for lunch today?
You abandon the task at hand and hastily type out a yes and wait impatiently for his next message to buzz through.
Pick you up by the playground at 12:30?
Your chest starts to pound with excitement as you type out your reply.
Sounds perfect. See you then, Marcus Pike.
His reply comes seconds later.
See you soon, sweetheart - Marcus Pike ;-)
*
The morning flies by in a tizzy, anxiety, and excitement bubbling up in your belly as you purposely avoid your Mom and her inevitable amount of questions about whether you want to interview in DC or not.
You ate your breakfast in a comfortable silence, but left the dishes in the sink as you heard her and your father make their way downstairs. Just narrowly missing them as you sprinted upstairs and immediately jumped into a slightly too hot shower. You style your hair as you usually would and put on minimal makeup before pulling out a sundress that’s definitely a little too short for the chilly weather.
You take the stairs two at a time after noticing your clock displaying 12:22, and just as you finish buttoning up your coat you hear your Mom call you into the next room.
“Where are you going in such a rush?” She asks with a raised eyebrow, “I didn’t know you were going out. You never said anything?”
“Seeing a friend for lunch, last minute plans. Won’t be more than a few hours.” You say with a halfhearted shrug.
“Who?”
“What?”
“Which friend?”
“Mom…,” you say with a slightly petulant eye roll, “Claudia. She’s home for thanksgiving. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Don’t go letting her fill your head with ideas about following suit and abandoning your hometown,” she calls out after you as you slam the front door just a fraction too hard.
*
He’s already waiting as you jog down towards the playground, the chill in the air making you curse yourself for not bringing a scarf. As you approach his car, the butterflies in your tummy seem to explode into three dozen more, but it doesn’t stop you from reaching out for the door handle the second it’s in reach and pulling it open.
“Hey,” he offers gently as you slide into his rental.
“Hey, yourself,” you offer back with a smile.
“Options are a leftovers sandwich made by yours truly at my house, everyone is out until the evening, so it’ll be pretty relaxed or if you’d prefer, we could find somewhere that’s open and eat out.”
You tap the bottom of your chin as if you’re really thinking about it before biting down on your bottom lip and slowly letting it roll out through your teeth, “Mhm. Rosa’s bakery is open until one. I vote for the first choice as long as we can swing by and grab a fresh loaf of her sourdough.”
“Sounds perfect,” he quips back before making his way toward the small town.
*
With a fresh loaf tucked up under your arm and two cream cakes nestled in a box under his, you follow him into the kitchen.
Few words had been spoken on the drive, the radio providing a comforting soundtrack to the already comfortable silence between you both.
“I’ll heat up the leftovers if you slice up the bread?” he asks whilst handing you a glass of wine.
“Sounds like a plan,” you murmur as you take a sip before setting it down on the counter.
“Thick or thin?” you ask as you pull out the chopping board and reach over to grab the bread knife from the block.
“Thick.”
*
Sandwiches made, wine glasses topped up, and a random Hallmark movie blaring out on the screen you’re both comfortably nestled in front of.
“So, we should probably talk about last night?” Marcus finally slips out as he takes a bite of his sandwich.
“Do you regret it?” You ask a little bit too quickly.
“No, of course not. No. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I did.”
He hums a content mhmm before diving into the rest of his sandwich. You both eat in silence and watch the shitty movie playing out in front of you.
It’s like it happens in slow motion, plates gone and forgotten about, the part of the movie where the girl realizes the boy was right there in front of her the entire time; Marcus’s hand slowly reaching around the back of the sofa and resting on your shoulder.
You turn to look at him, and he’s already staring at you, neither of you really sure who made the first move, but before you can register it’s really happening, his mouth is pressed against yours, breathing you in and silently begging you entry, his tongue licking your bottom lip like a silent prayer that promises salvation at the altar that would only exist when the two of you finally slot yourselves together.
It doesn’t take long until you’re straddling him, mouth wrestling with his as your tongues fight for dominance. His hands trail down the expanse of your body as yours tangle up in his hair.
He forces his lips off of yours and whispers, “Are you sure you want this?”
And after a rather enthusiastic ‘yes,’ you’re being led up to his bedroom, your fingers interlocked with his.
He walks you into his room and sits down on the edge of his bed, pulling you onto his lap, “We don’t have to do this. We can just talk or watch a movie, sweetheart.”
“Marcus, I'm in your room. I'm pretty sure I've ruined these panties, and I'm saying yes.”
“Fuck,” he grunts as he pulls you in for another kiss before laying you down on his bed, his hands slowly rubbing up your thighs before suddenly stopping and pulling away from you, “Sweetheart, you’re fucking soaked.”
You can feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment as his hands swipe back up and through the slick that had slowly been dripping from the moment he first picked you up, “I’m sor-” you attempt to choke out, but he silences you with a quick kiss.
“Don’t apologise. It’s fucking sexy,” he murmurs as he pulls your panties down your legs and throws them to the side, “Can I taste you?” He grunts out as you feel him press his clothed rock-hard cock into the meat of the thighs.
A little anxiety rises in your stomach as you play back his question, “Oh, you don’t have to! I know men don’t actually like doing that…”
His laugh throws you, and you swallow the lump that forms in your throat, “Boys maybe, but men, men fucking love eating pussy… Do you not enjoy it?” He asks as he tucks a finger under your chin and pulls your face up level with his.
“I-uh-I, I don’t actually know,” you admit quietly.
“Sweetheart, have you ever…? Had?”
“I’ve had sex,” you say bluntly, “With my college boyfriend, but he never wanted to do that. He said it’s just for porn.”
“Oh, sweet girl,” he says with a flash of annoyance, “He never got you ready before he fucked you?”
You shake your head as he peppers a gentle kiss on your thigh.
“Can I?” He asks again, “If you don’t like it, I’ll stop immediately.”
You nod your head in agreement and gently brush his cheek with your thumb, and he reaches up to grab your hand, “Baby, I'm going to need to hear you say it.”
Unconsciously you nod again before giving him the verbal confirmation he was asking for.
You can’t believe the gasp that escapes your lips as he slowly drags a finger through your folds, opening you up and praising your ‘pretty, pretty pussy’ and licking a stripe up from your entrance to your clit. He hums in approval at the taste of you, his tongue working magic on your clit as you adjust to the overwhelming feeling of pleasure being pulled from you with every flick of his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Fuck, Marcus,” you whimper as your hands move into his hair, your hips beginning to roll on their own accord, chasing his tongue and your forthcoming orgasm, “Don’t stop,” you blurt out as you feel it threaten to rip through you.
The sound of you begging drives him insane as he continues devouring your pussy, salivating at the taste and smell of you, whilst trying to ignore the way his cock is straining hard against his zipper.
He can’t believe it. Never in his wildest dreams could he imagine that you could have been wanting him this badly. He tries to ignore the way he can feel warmth rise in his chest every time you moan his name. His mind is running one hundred miles a second as you reach your crest, and he wants nothing more than to pull you close to him and keep you there for as long as he can, but he knows he can’t make the same mistakes as before.
He doesn’t know what this is, you don’t know what this is, but what he does know is he wants to show you how you deserve to be treated, to be touched, to be fucked .
He groans in delight as you soak his face with your arousal, breathing out the most delicious moans and whimpers he’s ever heard as he continues to lick at suck at your clit throughout your high.
Your chest heaves up and down as your vision starts to become less blurry, the high of your orgasm slowly starts coming down, and you have to gently push his face away from your pussy to stop him from continuing the little kitten licks to your overstimulated bud.
He brings his face up to yours, and you bite your lip, the sight of your arousal coating his mouth and chin makes you clench around nothing, and he makes no effort to clean it off as he brings you in for another kiss. Refusing to hold back, he kisses your mouth like he’s been deprived of your lips for years, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and gently dragging his teeth over it. He swallows each of your moans as they stream effortlessly into his mouth. Your hands run down his back, grabbing at the tight muscles and slowly running your fingertip down it until you’re reaching the hem of his shirt. You slowly pull it up, and he begrudgingly breaks the kiss to let you rip it off of him.
The heat of his body is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before as he envelopes you in his warmth, peppering the gentlest yet hungriest kisses down your neck whilst rolling the strap of your dress down and off your shoulders. He moves back off you, and a silent command is given to continue taking off your dress. You unbutton the few buttons on the front and roll the dress off of your body, and he rips off his belt and frees himself from his jeans.
Your breath hitches when you see the little spot of wetness on his boxers from where he’s been steadily leaking precum.
“I want to taste you,” you blurt out as he frees himself from his boxers, his thick cock swinging heavily between his legs - the tip almost purple with need, “Can I suck your cock?”
“Oh, baby,” he grunts as he slots himself back between your legs and reaches around to unclasp your bra, “I’d fucking love to feel your lips around me, but I don’t think I’m going to last very long as it is. I’d really like to fuck you if that’s okay?”
“Please,” you beg in response, “Please fuck me.”
“I’ve got some condoms in my drawer,” he says before giving your lips a fleeting kiss.
“I’m on birth control,” you answer back, “And I’m clean. Was checked at my last physical, and I’ve not had sex since… I’d really like to feel you.”
“I’m clean too. Got a physical when I started in DC, and I've used condoms on the two occasions I-uh- hooked up.”
You nod at him and bite down on your lip with the sweetest expression etched upon your delicate face, and it just about drives him insane. He gently runs a finger through your folds and slowly pushes it into your entrance just to check you’re ready.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans as he lines himself up with you, kissing you once more before gently pushing the tip in, “Tell me if you want me to stop, sweetheart?”
He grunts as you clamp down around him. He’s barely inside, but the way you reacted to him calling you sweetheart was nearly enough for him to blow his load immediately. “Relax for me, honey,” he coos as you take a deep breath. He’s thick, much thicker than your ex and you can’t help but whimper at the pinch of him. “Are you okay? Do you need me to stop?” He immediately asks as your face contorts beneath him.
“No, baby, please, don’t stop,” you beg, and he has to internally tell himself not to tell you how much he liked hearing you call him baby, “Keep going.”
He inches himself into you, slowly letting you adjust as he’s completely sheaths inside of you, little grunts channeling out of his mouth as your walls flutter around the girth of him. The warmth and tightness of you is almost overwhelming, almost enough to milk him of his spend without him having to move.
His left hand moves up to your breast and gently rolls your puckered nipple between his finger and his thumb, bringing his mouth down to, sucking it gently for a few seconds before repeating his actions on the other one.
It’s only when you start begging him to move that he grinds his hips, his lips engulfing yours as he kisses your mouth with fervor, slowly, he begins dragging his cock in and out of your heat, pushing hard enough to reach that spot that has you seeing stars. Never before has penetrative sex ever felt so good for you; the only clitoral stimulation is the coarse patch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing your bundle of nerves. “Faster,” you beg, and he grunts in response, his hips moving faster and faster, and eventually, your own start to move quick enough to meet his. The feeling of him buried deep inside of you sends you over the edge, and you just about scream his name as you clamp down around him hard, your arousal gushing and flooding his cock and thighs. White hot pleasure courses throughout your body, and you swear you can feel him everywhere.
“Good girl, such a good fucking girl,” he praises over and over until he can’t take it anymore, and he’s filling you up - covering your fluttering walls with his cum, the heat of him making you moan in delight.
He collapses on top of you, making sure his arms bear the weight of him, his head buried into your neck, both of your chests heaving up and down as you try to regain your composure.
“Wow,” you eventually breathe out, “That was so much better than I’ve ever imagined.”
He chuckles into the soft skin of your neck and slowly brings his face up to yours, “How often have you imagined it?”
“Shut up, Marcus Pike,” you giggle as you pull him in for a kiss.
He pulls away and sits back on his haunches, looking down at you, hair tousled, skin glistening with a shimmering layer of sweat, “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know? You are gorgeous, bunny.”
You bite your lip as he gets up and makes his way into the en-suite bag to grab a damp cloth to clean you up, biting down the urge to compliment how cute his butt is as he does so.
*
The gentle way he cleans you up makes your chest fill with warmth. He took extra care whilst dragging it, wiping it against your clit, and then he climbed into bed behind you and held you as you both drifted off to sleep.
He held you tighter than you’d ever been held, and you slept more comfortably than you have in a long time.
*
“Shit,” you hiss at the sight of his alarm clock reading 4:28 pm. “Marcus, baby,” you murmur as you shuffle around in his arms to face him, covering his face in little kisses to wake him up, “Baby, your parents will be back soon, and I’ve gotta get home.”
He groans before pulling you closer to him, and you giggle at his softness. “Could keep you snuggled up in my bed forever,” he says, kissing you between every word.
You hum back, “And when you go back to DC tomorrow evening, and your parents find me in your bed, how do I explain that?”
“Well, I’d just have to take you back with me,” he says with a wink.
*
You both dress in silence, stealing the occasional glance before continuing to straighten yourselves out.
“Ready, sweetheart?” He asks whilst reaching his hand out for you to take.
“Are you calling me sweetheart to get me back into your bed, Agent Pike?”
“Fuck,” he hisses, “Call me that again, and I drop to my knees right here, sweetheart.”
“Mhm, good to know what gets you going, Agent,” you wink.
*
The radio hums quietly on the drive back, he’d agreed to drop you off at the playground again but said he wouldn’t move until you texted him once you’re back inside your house, and you rolled your eyes but agreed.
His hand rests comfortably on your thigh, squeezing gently every now and then. It isn’t until he pulls up to the spot he’d picked you up at that he begins to speak.
“I don’t want you to think I’m saying this for selfish reasons or because of what happened between us, but I really think you should consider interviewing in DC,” he says before interlocking his fingers in yours. “You shouldn’t miss opportunities because the people you love are guilt-tripping you into staying close. But you also shouldn’t do things because other people are telling you to. I just think you should really think about it. Think about where’s best for you and for your career.” He brings your hand up to his lips, softly kissing the back of it.
You offer him a wide smile in response and nod a few times before giving him one last kiss, “Will I see you before you leave?”
“I was really hoping so,” he answers with a grin, “Breakfast?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Text me the second you’re inside?”
“I promise,” you reply with another eye roll, “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
You skip back towards the house, only turning to give him a little wave once, and the second you’re inside and kicking off your shoes, you send him the text you’d promised.
“Finally,” your mom calls out from the kitchen, “It’s after five.”
“You know I’m well into my twenties, Mom,” you shoot back as she gives you the once over, “I don’t need to be coddled.”
“No one is coddling you, bunny, you just need to be more mindful about coming and going while you’re staying in our house.”
You scoff at her words, anger boiling in your stomach as her insistence that you move back home after you graduate replays in your mind.
“I moved back because you practically gave me no other choice,” you say as you start to walk back out of the kitchen, resisting the urge to groan as you hear her footsteps right behind you, “I’m not going to argue with you, mama, but I’m also not going to let you dictate my life. I said no to California and Montana because of you, but I’m not going to miss the opportunity to work in DC.”
“He’s 12 years older than you, bunny,” she says with a raised eyebrow, “Let's not pretend that the job is the real reason you’re considering DC.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I can see the playground from the kitchen window, I saw you get out of his car.”
You scoff and turn on your heels as you march up to your bedroom.
You pace around for a few moments, not sure what you want to do, and then you’re doing it.
Dialing the number that you’ve had written down on a post-it and pressed against your mirror for almost a week.
“Hello, can I speak with Eleanor Smith?” You ask with a shaky breath.
Within two minutes, you have settled on a date to interview, the following Monday at 10 am sharp at FBI headquarters in DC.
No matter what happens, no matter whether you get offered the position or not, you’re standing your ground and taking charge of your own career - without anyone else in mind.
*
Marcus texts you a few times throughout the evening, his family occupying all his time and dragging him out for dinner on his last night before flying back to DC.
You decide you’ll inform him that you’re interviewing at breakfast.
*
You meet him in the same spot he dropped you off, sliding into the passenger seat and greeting him with a kiss.
“Hey,” you murmur against his lips.
“Hi, baby.”
He drives you to a breakfast diner, and you settle into the booth in front of him.
“Excited to get home?” You ask as he skims through the menu.
“Excited to sleep in my own bed, I guess,” he says with a small shrug of his shoulders.
“Mhmm,” you hum as sadness fills out across your chest, “Do you ever miss it here?”
He clicks his tongue before looking up at you, “Sure, I do. I mean, I miss the people, the familiarity and stuff… But sometimes, it’s nice to be away from it all. There is shit here that haunts me every time I come back, but there is also a lot of stuff that I'm really fucking happy to see as well. I know in my head and my heart that right now, DC is where I need to be.”
You nod your head a few times before glancing down at the menu despite having already decided on blueberry pancakes.
“Did you think about it at all?” He asks as he scans the menu again.
“Yes,” you answer, unsure of whether you’re ready to tell him about the interview.
He talks to you about his job, his apartment, and about his partner at work. You hang off every word, asking questions, him countering with his own every time you hit him with a new one.
Before you know it, you’ve been there for over two hours, and he’s becoming more and more cautious of the time and that he needs to pack his stuff ready for his flight and pop around to his siblings and see his nieces and nephews before he goes home.
He insists on paying for breakfast and refuses your offer of leaving the tip. He holds your hand as you make your way back to his car, and he walks around to the passenger side and opens your door for you, stealing a long and passionate kiss before you climb in and closes the door for you.
An air of awkwardness haunts the ride back to your house, his hand rests on your thigh as it had done the last few trips in his car, and he gives you those reassuring squeezes every time he senses you need it, but it feels different.
“I-uh-” you start to say as he pulls up to the bottom of your drive. He foregoes dropping you off down the block a little, and you lose your nerves and instead wish him a safe flight and hope to see him again at Christmas if he makes the trip back.
“I’m going to miss you, bunny,” he admits with a slight smile, “Can't believe I've been so in the dark over all of this.”
You shrug your shoulders and lean over to kiss him, “Well, at least you know now. You can always give me a call on those lonely nights.”
“What about the nights when I just need to hear your voice?”
Your heart stutters in your chest, you didn’t expect that, and you bite down on your lip to suppress the words threatening to spill out.
“You can call me anytime.”
He kisses you again, neither of you caring about the fact that you’re right outside of your house.
“See you, Marcus Pike.”
“See you, sweetheart.”
*
Those scenes from those terrible Hallmark movies where the guy or girl runs through the airport play on a loop in your mind.
It’s not quite like that.
Instead, it’s your dad speaking up for you as your mom scoffs and tuts at you for taking your future into your own hands. Booking a last-minute trip that you barely had time to pack for and your Dad driving just a little over the speed limit to ensure you don’t miss your flight.
It’s looking around the departure lounge for a sight of him that you never catch and spending the short time in the airport trying to work out if you’re even on the same flight as him.
He told you that he turns his phone onto airplane mod the second he steps into the airport, being self-conscious that he’ll forget to once he boards his plane, so you aren’t surprised when all of your calls go straight to voicemail.
You board the plane almost last, scanning the aisles for him and breathing out a disappointed sigh as you reach your seat, and you’ve still not spotted him.
Anxiety rises in the pit of your stomach as the plane takes off, and you realize that you’ve yet to book a hotel and or a rental car in DC.
It eases about an hour and forty-five minutes in - once the seatbelt signs have been switched off and a movie you’re not really paying attention to officially bores you to the point of no return.
He’s stalking down the aisle, staring down at the floor as he makes his way to his seat, which is four rows in front of your own.
You sit for about twenty-five minutes trying to work out what to say, and eventually, you give up, just unbuckling your seatbelt and taking a few tentative steps until you’re standing at the end of his aisle.
He glances up, clearly thinking you're a stewardess, and he gets ready to politely wave you away before he does a double take and rips out his earbuds.
“I-uh, I have a big interview for this incredible opportunity on Monday, and I completely forgot to book a hotel and a rental car… Any chance you could help me out?”
Butterflies take flight in your tummy as that gorgeous dimple makes an appearance, a goofy smile spreading across his face as he nods, “Anything for you, sweetheart.”
#marcus pike#pedro pascal#marcus pike smut#Marcus pike fic#marcus pike fanfiction#marcus pike x reader#marcus pike x you#marcus pike x f!reader#marcus pike x female reader#marcus pike x oc#the mentalist fanfiction#the mentalist#my fanfiction#my fanfic#pedro pascal characters
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okay so as i’m getting back into writing fanfic i’ve also been getting back into reading it, and oh my god are there a lot of talented people out there. i’ve mainly been consuming joel miller and the last of us stories, and i wanted to share with you some that have really made an impression on me, or that i’ve thoroughly enjoyed. so here here are my march/april ficrecs!!
(dividers by @saradika) (header by me)
« ATROPHY » @yeyinde
joel miller x f!reader, written in 3rd person, 10k words, angst with a side of poetic smut
It's his own fault, he thinks, for stuffing his grief in the same place he keeps his worry.
She wears her fatigue like its armour, wielding the brunt of her exhaustion like a shield.
There is no future outside of the way he fits inside of her, and this is as permanent as the blemishes he leaves on her pretty skin.
Maybe, he expected something different. For her to call this thing what it was, and then demand more of him, yell and scream and beg for the things he wouldn't give her—if only so he could break her heart into pieces, and force her to let go. To stop.
His heart doesn't stop, but a piece of it breaks off and lodges itself in his throat. He can't swallow. Can't breathe.
i seriously read this twice in one day. what the hell.
« TENDER / AND WHAT’S LEFT » @moondirti
joel miller x f!reader, 4.3k, smut and angst and everything you could wish for
Joel is a man of blunt lines and frayed edges, and though he seems especially bronze at this time of day, you know you can't touch him to feel the sun.
But he looked tired, even in his sleep.
« MOMENTS » @charnelhouse
joel miller x f!reader, 2k, dangerous smut
You and your willingness to offer up your body because to have Joel at all feels akin to owning a panther.
You think you’d be happy being attached to him, growing out of him. Addicted to the way he feels in your cunt. You want him to infect you. You think that’s what your sex is like. Joel and you infect each other until the other burns away.
You can only allow him to take you, dragging you like a violent tide and hope he’ll bring you to shore.
honorable mentions, by the same author: «darlin’» and «teacups»
« adjustments » @softlyspector
joel miller x f!reader, 9.4k, fluff (and a lil smut as a treat)
i DEVOURED this, and thank GOD there’s a sequel: «settled»
« for the things they hold dear » @cruelfvkingsummer
joel miller x f!reader, age gap, smutty..., mean mean man
But everything that was ripped away from him had bloody, ragged claw marks on them.
“I found us a cabin up north.”
cruel summer (chapter 1-3) @proxima-writes
joel miller x f!reader, no outbreak, age gap
🔨🏡��👙
« SPEAKEASY » @toxicanonymity
joel miller x f!reader, 1.5k, smut smutty smut smut
🤠🍻🗣🎯
« 2002 » @wheresarizona
joel miller x f!reader, pre-outbreak, 900 words, sexy AND adorable
💑💖🛋☔️
« what he didn’t do » @pedgeitopascal
joel miller x divorced!reader, pre-outbreak, 4.9k, SLOW BURN ♡
🔧👕🥃💋
« stay in bed » (chapters 1-8) @psychedelic-ink
joel miller x f!reader, tommy miller x unrequited reader, sloooow burn
👬💗💃🗽🖼
« one thing missing » (part 1-4) @joelscruff
joel miller x f!reader, 16k and counting, friends to... lovers?, ellie!!!
⛺️😴👨👩👧🐏
« a safe haven » (chapters 1-5) @pedgeitopascal
joel miller x f!reader, jackson era, ellie makes a friend
🐎👨👧🍻💃🕺🏻
« close your eyes » @lovers-liability
joel miller x f!reader, angst AND smut, all you need is love
🌲❤️👫🌲
i might be adding to this list, and also making another one once i have more! in the meantime check out my ficrec tag!
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