#Pedro would look so good in these fits

[pedropascal24-7]

[nouvellevqgue]

✦ CHAMPION TO YOUR HEART, L. NORRIS

everybody knows about his relationship with a motogp rider, but there's another side that they didn't know about this.

req: Could you do a smau about lando dating a MotoGP world champion? And the media expects him to be bitter because she’s younger than him and a world champion when he hasn’t won a race, but in reality he’s just immensely proud

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦˚‎

yourusername

circuit ricardo tormo

liked by marcmarquez93, landonorris, and 281,905 others

yourusername the prettiest night in valencia

view 15,720 comments...

alex_albon call me, we're going out (of course with lilymhe too🙄)

⤷ lilymhe what was that mean??????

username bf lando is appearing in the likes i see 👀👀

username she looks so good with the suittt😍😍

username y/n ilysmmmm

username slayed the fits as usual

lissiemackintosh i would love to see you race there

⤷ yourusername and i would love to see you be on the paddock

⤷ username two mothers interacting

username that hair is so good

username the prettiest motogp rider fr

username can't wait to see you on the track on sunday

username imagine we heard her national anthem for the nth time this year is the same as max's wilhelmus in f1

username i woke up and i'll heard y/n's anthem

username idk if i want to be her or lando rn

username she's literally so cool

username it's practically a cycle bcs if i watch f1 it's gonna be dutch anthem, and if i watch motogp it's going to be italian anthem. EVERY TIMEEEEE😔💀

lando.jpg

liked by lailahasanovic, yourusername, and 711,735 others

lando.jpg elevator love

view 8,288 comments...

username wait who took the pic?🫢

⤷ daniel3.jpg it's always been me😔😔😔

⤷ maxfewtrell OR me????🤨

⤷ mclaren 🤨🤨 or me

⤷ quadrant OR ME????

⤷ yourusername now what the hell's going on

username he looks like lance

username SOMEBODY SAID HE LOOKED LIKE LANCE💀💀😭

⤷ lancestroll that's not me...

⤷ username but how do lando looks like him

⤷ username who took this is a skinwalker

⤷ danielricciardo i waste all of my talents for this

username okay just admit now who took this

⤷ username girl no one know just let that be a mystery of the year

username she looks so good thoooo

username she looks drunk

landonorris wait how do i look like lance

YOURUSERNAME'S INSTASTORY

yourusername added to their story!

INSTAGRAM

daniel3.jpg

liked by landonorris, yourusername, fabioquartararo20 and 159,733 others

daniel3.jpg he is a boyfriend of the current motogp world champion, and still eat a canned choco cookies 🫵🏻

view 31,607 comments...

landonorris i don't know why am i even liking this but CHOCO COOKIES IS GOOD CHANGE MY MIND 🙄🙄

⤷ yourusername i don't really liked the canned one but idk 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

⤷ daniel3.jpg look she's siding with me

⤷ landonorris the BETRAYAL

⤷ username noooo y/n i thought we were something

⤷ carlossainz55 but true though tinned cookies are very dry

⤷ landonorris NOT YOU TOO 😭😭😭

⤷ username he made it looks so good though i am tempted😭

⤷ oscarpiastri it's three holes out already, is he finished it though?

⤷ danielricciardo clean. 🧽

⤷ landonorris DON'T BELIEVE HIM

username he looks cute when he's laughing

username if my granny was there, she's going to throw away the cookies and only to keep the tin

username remind me more of that pedro pascal skit on snl

fernandoalo_oficial poor little norris

username why am i hearing it in my head???

mclaren 🍪🍪

username why is he always taking his random ass picture?

⤷ username they're husband and wife do you not realize?

⤷ username the 'HUSBAND AND WIFE' part got me on the floor🫵🏻😭😭😭

username how is he always taking their cute moments

⤷ danielricciardo tell him that it's his turn to capture me and heidi's moments now

⤷ yourusername nah cause she's liking a girl riding a motorcycle more now

⤷ danielricciardo SAY SIKE

⤷ heidiberger_ 🤭

⤷ username omg babe SAME

⤷ username crazy how this is just from lando's pics

⤷ landonorris and why is it always me

username why am i still curious about why did y/n decided to have a boyfriend like him

⤷ username what do you mean?

⤷ username yeah i mean she's the first woman world champion in motogp this year and how about him? name his win in the first place.

⤷ username they both got their own advantage and disadvantage

⤷ username but does he even got jealous or smth or just uses her for fame?

⤷ username bro wdym they both are literally famous even before they're started dating.

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, centralcee, and 391,433

yourusername you're a bad influence.

view 22,560 comments...

username why am i having a bad feeling here

username bad influence who now girl

username where is lando when we need him the most

⤷ username he ain't going in the liking section ⁉️⁉️❗❗😧😧😨

username NAH LANDO WHATD U DO

username but she suited car tho

username wonder who the bad influence would be... 🫢🤔

⤷ username i see mercedes here then idc

⤷ username don't make me think it's lewis

username lando boy what you do

username i see george, but i don't see lewis

⤷ username relaaaax i think the bad influence means that she's now into car

⤷ username keep being delulu darling we're all with u

⤷ username but what if

⤷ username 🫷no don't even

username convertible and the racing jacket suited her sm

YOURUSERNAME'S INSTASTORY

yourusername added to their story!

caption: stealing pecco63 spare helmet for a bit

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by fabioquartararo20, marcmarquez93, landonorris, and 1,590,726 others

yourusername how's my new look? #ad

👤: hrc_motogp, repsol

view 46,714 comments...

danielricciardo HOLY SHIIITT

danielricciardo i swear it's far from my radar

⤷ landonorris same honestly

username SHE HAS TATTOOS??????

username daniel's holy shit is me rn

username omg rosalia.vt he encontrado "LA" motomami de todas las motomamis.

username SHE GON BRUNETTE??

pecco63 brown looks good on you😁

⤷ yourusername they've always told me right😛

landonorris i started my day with this is a great starter

⤷ yourusername don't forget to brush your teeth!

⤷ username "DON'T FORGET TO BRUSH YOUR TEETH" AJSJWJWIS SHE'S MOTHERING HIM ALREADY 😭😭

username she is literally mother

username landonorris how about we switch gf

⤷ landonorris no thank you, i'm perfectly fine with this one😋

INSTAGRAM

landonorris

liked by alex_albon, carlossainz55, and 287,012 others

landonorris i feel like a proud father 👶🏼

👤: yourusername

view 10,358 comments...

username THE HAIR WAS FAKE???😭💀😭😭😭😭😭

⤷ username we all knew it's just a wig bruv

username i know she must be so exhausted like damn she look fainted

username their hand holding is so cute

username MY WHOLE LIFE IS A LIE

georgerussell63 R.I.P. repsol y/n 🪦

carlossainz55 doodle master™

⤷ yourusername 😒

⤷ landonorris i had a bad feeling about this

⤷ yourbestfriend because she's gonna get u rn

username still not get over to the fact that hot mama version of y/n is just for an ad

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by isahernaez, francesca.cgomes, and 548,163 others

yourusername celebratory kisses (thx maxfewtrell)

view 56,820 comments...

maxfewtrell i think you should do her technique on thanking for pictures

⤷ landonorris oh c'mon i've thanked you many times 🙄

⤷ maxfewtrell yeah and many times too that you've forgotten about that

⤷ username y/n posting about her and lando's kiss after her wins, meanwhile lando and max:

⤷ username this world separated into max and lando and y/n and lando

⤷ username i'll definitely into the first one

username this one's special for their kiss only

username he is so proud of her, and this post is everything

username his interview about her is melting my arse out, i want him

username i feels like it's their hard launch

⤷ username they've been together since 2 yrs ago

username idk but i hate when media is always like "oh you're the man and why are you not having the wins like your gf did" like they should stfu for a sec

⤷ username and what's that question they throw on him like "is she younger" i mean ???

username but anyway i'm happy that they're both are happy with each other's wins and losses, the two of them truly deserves the whole world.

username they just have to accept the fact that they're just belong like that. with or without the championship.

lando.jpg

liked by carlossainz55, schecoperez, and 641,782

lando.jpg wild wind.

comments on this post has been disabled

YOURUSERNAME'S INSTASTORY

yourusername added to their story!

caption: guess who's riding with me?

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦˚‎

taglist: @queenofmanydreams @muglermami @4limq @avengers-assemble123456 @cabbyhabs @meowtastick @4mula-1 @miarabanana @amel1ee @dinosushilun1

[intoanotherworld23]

Turn On The Red Lights

Summary: you get to own Joel for the night, but he owns you in the bedroom

Warnings: MDNI 18+, explicit sexual content, bondage, use of handcuffs, use of dildo, mention of safe word, edging, maybe overstimulation, unprotected sex, dom Joel, kinky Joel, name calling, implied escort situation

A/N: let me know if you guys want to be added to the Pedro tag list it’s always open! Heart, reblogs and comment are always appreciated and encouraged to support writers! Thank you all so much! XOXO

Hall of Hunks

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Silk satin sheets lay beneath your body the red lights above you illuminating your naked body. The cold metal that held your wrists to the bed was digging into your skin every time you pulled. Joel standing in front of the bed smirking down at you like a crazed animal who was staring at his meal.

“You look good enough to eat baby.” Complimenting you with such pride to know that you were all his for the night. The atmosphere in the room was clouded with lust. Tensions high and thick you wanted to bite into it.

“All you can eat.” Snickering at your cheeky comment spreading your legs his eyes immediately focusing at your dripping cunt like a pot of honey that was overflowing at the lid.

“I’d watch what you say cause I am a starving man.” Tone of his voice clenching your thighs together. Cold air breeze rushing against your nipples Joel watching as they erect into hard nubs.

Watching as Joel walked over to the dresser and pulling something out trying to keep it from your view. Ribcage rising and falling with each breath as it felt like every step he was taking was in slow motion. It was almost like he was doing it on purpose. Enjoying your twitching and rattling around on the bed like you were trying to escape out of these handcuffs.

“How badly do you want me?” It seemed weird that a man as good looking as him needed to hear you say that. Then again he probably just wanted to hear how pathetically you could beg for him.

“I want you so fucking badly it hurts.” Thrusting your hips upwards coaxing him to look directly between your legs hoping he would sense how agonizing this was for you, and you needed him more than he could ever know.

“Do you know the safe word?” He asked as he flashed the thick dildo in front of you. Eyes slightly widening not sure if that was really going to fit inside of you, imagining just how much it was going to stretch you out.

“Yes, sir.” He couldn’t help but grin at the name signaling to him that you acknowledged he was the one in charge, and he had you right where he wanted you. Reaching forward to press the dildo against your inner thigh making you gasp. It looked almost realistic, and you really wished it was his cock pressing against your skin instead of this toy. “Red.”

“That’s my good whore.” The crude name should have offended you but right now it just made your cunt drip with desire.

Moving the toy upwards to finally reached to your sensitive cunt a loud whimper leaving your lips as he motioned it up and down your lips. Soaking the object in your juices so it would be easier to push inside of you. Although you were wet enough it didn’t need to be lubricated. Gliding it in so easily that it could have slipped out if he wasn’t holding onto it.

Unable to speak all you could do is keep your mouth open as it slowly stretched you out. Joel keeping it still inside of you as his free hand kept a tight grip on your ankle. His half naked body sitting between your legs to keep them open for his pleasure.

“Tell me how it feels baby.” Clenching your hands into fists as he pulled the toy out all the way only to thrust it back in. Closing your eyes as you allowed your body to fully give in to what you were feeling, and didn’t want to hold anything back. “I wanna hear those pretty lips tell me how good this dildo feels inside of you.”

Thrusting the toy inside of you so quickly you could hear the sound of your squelching cunt. Heat rising to your cheeks as it echoed in your ear. Only making him drill it deeper inside of you to create more sounds especially from your mouth. Pulling even harder against the restraints it was starting to burn your skin.

“It feels so fucking good, sir.” Patting yourself on the back for taking those shots before you decided to do this otherwise you would be acting like some sort of shy school girl. Joel could sense there was a dirty vixen hiding inside of you, and he couldn’t wait to bring it out of you.

Joel thought doing this kind of thing with a woman got boring after a while. For some reason your reaction had him rethinking this again, and was enjoying this much more than you. The way your bottom lip trembled as he hit a certain spot. Arousal coating the toy every time he pulled it out leaving a clear milky substance stringed across it.

“Look at me.” His tone stern but playful as a hand reached up to grip your jaw. Grabbing your attention as he drew you in. His eyes were so dark you would have thought he was some sort of demon. Keeping your mouth open wide enough for him to stick a finger in your mouth. Feeling bold as you wrapped your tongue around the digit closing your mouth sucking his finger like a lollipop.

“Those pretty eyes begging to be fucked by my cock instead.” He was literally reading your mind very accurately. Sensing the dildo wasn’t enough for you, and you wanted more. “Wanna feel that cunt be stretched out around me.”

Clearly becoming entranced at the choke hold you had on him since the movements of the dildo were starting to slow down. Like he was losing control, and becoming distracted by your sudden bold move. He was totally impressed, but he had to remind you he was in charge.

“Fuck me sweetheart you’re really testing me now.” Pulling his finger away from your mouth a trail of saliva being left down your chin.

Pulling the dildo out of you a hiss escaping past your lips at the sudden and empty loss. Not taking long before Joel was stripped of all his clothes so you could fully take in his naked form. Eyes falling to his cock seeing the veins popping out, the tip leaking cum like he was going to burst any minute.

Crawling towards you on the bed like a predator ready for pounce on his prey. Staring intensely at him waiting for his next move as he pumped his cock. Hands on either side of your face as he teased you by rubbing the tip up and down your folds like he did with the toy.

“Are you ready for me baby girl?” Knowing the answer to that but he always had to make sure it was something the woman wanted.

“Yes, sir I’m ready for you.” That’s all he needed to hear before dragging his hips down before pushing himself all the way in. Hips pressed into your pelvis as he stayed there for a second before drilling himself into your puffy cunt.

“Jesus you’ve got a tight little cunt.” Deep groans coming from his chest as he rolled his hips deep and slow, but with such a delicious impact.

Wrapping your legs around his waist holding onto him for dear life since you weren’t able to grab him with your hands. The slightly new angle had him pushing in deeper you felt him in your guts. Bodies moving up and down the bed as the headboard slammed into the wall so hard it might create a hole.

“That’s it sweetheart take my cock like a good little whore.” Praising you as he looked down to where you both were connected amazed at how well you were able to take him. Worried he might snap you in half or break your body just within the first few seconds.

“Your cock feels so good inside me.” A drop of sweat rolling down his face as his face turned beat red trying to control himself. Not wanting to cum so quickly then ruining this whole experience for you.

Leaning forward slightly just so his mouth was hovering right above yours. If there was one rule that Joel had it was never to kiss. Kiss was such an intimate act he felt it would create feelings, and with feelings came complications. With you though he found himself struggling not to press his lips against your soft and plump looking ones.

“Can feel your cunt squeezing my cock baby.” Words mocking and teasing you had you wrapped around his fingers. Enjoying the way he talked you as he continued to fuck you silly. Whispering absolute utter filth into your ear that it would even make the devil blush. He certainly had no problem saying it though.

Joel oozed confidence in every thing that he did whether it was just in general or sexually. The man knew the right things to say, and when to say them. He was good at what he did, and he certainly was worth going bankrupt over. The man was a professional in the sex department.

“Joel I’m so close.” Warning him as your body started to shake a fire ignited in your stomach. Head tossed back in ecstasy as you struggled to hold on anymore. Both of you were chasing that sweet release, and Joel was more focused on you.

“Let go baby, cum for me I’m right here.” Whispering beside your ear the low voice sending you over the edge. Chest rising and falling with each quick breath hands falling limp against the cuffs, and legs loosely hanging around his hips.

Joel feeling your cunt clenching around him so tightly like a viper. Cum leaking out the sides and dripping down your cheeks. Your cunt was so sore and felt absolutely raw from the pounding that it just took. Cock staying still inside of you still hard a quick twitch afraid to move worried he would squirt his seed.

“Fuck that was by far the tightest cunt I have ever fucked.” Brushing a hand across his face and up his hair. Pulling out when he knew it was safe a hiss leaving your lips as he carefully pulled out your body jolting at the sensitivity from the sudden loss of him. “I seriously almost came like three times.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Something seemed to stir inside of him at your question as he leaned back so he could hop off the bed and grabbed the keys off the nightstand unlocking the handcuffs. Feeling your arms drop a slight sting on your skin as you sat up and rubbed the raw flesh with fresh marks.

Getting the feeling that now that you got what you wanted you were going to be on your way. His body was stiff and his whole demeanor become cold and rigid. Maybe you were just hoping for some small talk or something after instead of just kicking you out the door.

“Well I hope that was to your satisfaction.” His voice now professional and businesslike which made your stomach churn. Feeling like you said something wrong, and it was making you feel sick at the thought.

“Yes it was more than satisfying Joel.” Nodding your head rapidly a smirk appearing on his face at how softly you said his name making you smile at the change in his body language.

“Good I look forward to seeing you again.” Tossing a card with his cell number and full name before exiting the room giving you a mischievous wink.

[vivwritescrappythings]

Unfair

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

an au about Joel attending a wedding simply inspired by Pedro's slutty little fit at the SAG awards.

part 2

tw: age gap (late 20s/late 40s), fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, alcohol, she/her pronouns, reader has hair long enough to twist around her finger, Joel is probably poorly written in this, and this whole thing is a little poorly written.

word count: 7.2k

MDNI

masterlist

–

Your mom was smiling as you zipped her into her gown, the chiffon and lace dress gorgeous on her as you fastened the eyelet closed at the top of the bodice. You could feel the lens of the photographer’s camera trained on you both, the woman having been with you the entire morning to document the process of the bridal party getting ready. 

The photographer was fluttering around the room, taking candid photos of you all making small talk and toasting mimosas. The posed photos had been earlier that morning, you all wearing your matching silk robes with your names screen-printed on the back. You didn’t know how much had been spent on the whole production–but it certainly wasn’t cheap. But, to see your mom glowing and her wide smile all morning, every penny must have been more than worth it.

Before you realized, you all wore dresses and bouquets of white flowers with magnificent greenery were being thrust in your hands. The wedding planner was ushering everyone out onto the stone walkway to the barn, women finally meeting men just outside the farmhouse turned wedding venue. The best man looked vaguely familiar to you as you placed your hand in the crook of his elbow to walk down the aisle, he must have been Shawn's eldest brother.

The officiant droned: he just repeated the same platitudes of what it means to love one another and be good spouses. You tried to stay focused, your eyes inevitably wandering. The ceremony space was picturesque: southern live oaks casting shadows in the late autumn sun as they married in front of the barn. It really couldn’t get more Texas than that, especially when you counted the number of cowboy hats in the crowd. 

You could feel someone staring at you for the better part of the ceremony, making you glance out of the corner of your eye as you tried to find the source. Every fiber of you wanted to turn and look in earnest, but you knew that you’d ruin the photos as soon as your body twisted and your happy, grinning face wasn’t facing the bride and groom on the best day of their lives. 

Your grip tightened around the bouquet in your hands as your skin crawled, your focus so jarred that you almost missed your cue to walk out. The cheers and clapping woke you from your reverie before the best man had to. Grasping him by the elbow, you walked back up the aisle between the celebrating wedding guests, the feeling of being watched now fading to the background.

—

When you finally made it to the renovated barn, you were starving and in desperate need of a drink. The photos had run long, the photographers getting you all in a variety of line ups and poses. It was almost time for the plated dinner to begin, guests settling at assigned tables after a cocktail hour and the live band playing quiet music in the corner of the half-inside half-outside space that would eventually serve as the dance floor.

The orange lighting from string lights along the ceiling was soft, mismatched Edison bulbs hanging along zigzagged wires from wooden rafters. It painted the guests and decor in gold tones, making everything look sepia like an old photo.

With your double shot vodka tonic in hand, you found your name written in gold calligraphy on the seating chart. Your mom and her new husband were sitting together at a small table at the front of the room, a faux-neon sign behind them that displayed his last name. Well, their last name now. 

You were at one of the front tables, the ivory table cloth nearly brushing the shiny wooden floor as you plucked your name card off your plate and sat down. There were only a few people you knew at the wedding, neighbors from the neighborhood you grew up in and a handful of your mother’s coworkers. But, they were seated elsewhere. 

Some of the seats on the opposite side of the sprawling white and green centerpiece were occupied with strangers in flamboyant cowboy hats and boots, an obvious sign they were from out of town. You smiled politely as you sat down, taking a long sip of your drink as you checked your phone for the moment of downtime. 

“This seat taken?” A deep, twangy voice made your gaze cut away from the screen and up to the right. You were immediately dumbstruck by how handsome the man was, his umber colored eyes reminding you of the sunlight hitting the tree trunks during the ceremony. A few of his dark brown curls were falling on his tanned forehead, the rest of his hair loosely pushed back. 

You floundered for a moment, lips parting and no words coming out of your mouth. Finally you caught up, blinking a few times. The place card in front of the ornate gold and white place setting next to yours was your saving grace. “Well, uh, if you’re Joel M., the seat is all yours,” you said, looking back up at him.

God, you hoped he was Joel.

He smiled, the lines on his face becoming a bit more defined as he extended a hand toward you. “Joel Miller, nice to meet you…” he trailed off, waiting for your assistance. 

You slipped your hand into his, his calloused palm engulfing yours as he shook it politely. You introduced yourself, neck craned back so you could look him in the eye. He released your hand and sat down, setting the glass he was holding next to yours on the table cloth. 

“So how do you know the couple?” Joel asked you, his gaze dragging over you. You tried not to squirm under the weight of it, your face feeling hot as you set your phone face-down on the table. The way he looked at you made you feel like a bug caught under a microscope.

“The bride is my mom,” you said, fiddling with the elegantly folded cloth napkins for a moment. You glanced at her briefly, watching her giggle at something Shawn had said. 

Joel nodded, a huff of a laugh following. “No shit, so you’re the stepdaughter?” he asked, an eyebrow raised as a smirk lifted the corner of his lip. One of your eyebrows lifted of its own volition, his reaction catching you off guard.

“Do I have a reputation?” A sip of your drink helped wet your dry tongue, your eyes trained on him over the rim of your glass. There was a spike of anxiety in your chest, the temporary fear that he’d heard something bad about you filling your mind. You held your glass in your hand as you crossed your legs at the ankle, waiting for his response.

Joel paused to take a drink, a hand scrubbing over his beard as he looked back at you. He shook his head, waving a hand in a way that was meant to be placating. “Shawn told me about you, said you just moved back to town a few months ago.” 

“Um, yeah, actually. Moved back from Denver,” you said, bashful that the subject of you even came up. You hadn’t realized that you were important enough in Shawn’s life to mention, especially to his friends. Of course, there wasn’t animosity between the two of you, just what you assumed was limited interest. Most men didn't bother to learn too much about their adult stepchildren.

You were both leaning forward as you spoke, the music and chatter of the other guests making the barn a little too loud to hear one another clearly at a distance. He was looking down at his drink, giving you an opportunity to study his profile. Joel was easily twenty years your senior, the dark beard on his jawline threaded through with patches of silver hair. 

“So—“ Joel started, getting cut off by the shuffle of the last people to their seats and an arm thrust between the two of you. The waiters serving the plated dinner made you sit upright in your chair, the soft fabric of your dress fluttering as you put some space between Joel and yourself. 

You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you took the first bite of your food, a sigh escaping you as your eyelashes batted against your cheeks. Conversation floated around your head, you caught polite questions about Joel’s construction business and half-assed replies.

For some reason your mother had put you at a table full of Shawn’s friends, maybe in an attempt to help you get to know him better.

“So you’re a contractor?” you asked after your hunger had been satiated. You’d gotten a refill on your drink from one of the waiters, nursing a fresh vodka tonic as you looked at Joel.

He chewed his steak methodically, nodding as he turned slightly to look at you. “Been building houses for years, my brother, Tommy, works with me,” Joel said after he swallowed, taking his cloth napkin off his wide thigh to wipe the corner of his mouth. 

“Do you like it?” you asked after a moment of contemplation, tilting your head to one side as you looked at him.

There was something about him that kept you smiling, your lips curved like a bow as you sipped your drink from the straw. You studied his features while you could, his aquiline nose and his full lower lip intriguing. Way too intriguing for someone who was your stepfather’s friend.

“Pays the bills, keeps the roof over me and Sarah’s heads.” Joel finished his plate, picking up his drink and leaning back in his seat. 

Sarah? Your eyes dropped to his left hand, not seeing a ring on any of the fingers. Not even a tan line. He noticed it, making your face burn as he chuckled. “Sarah? Your…”

“Daughter,” he cut in helpfully. Daughter, he had a daughter. You exhaled, relieved. But, did he have a wife? No ring, never mentioned her. He would’ve brought her up by now. She would've attended the wedding with him. You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath as you rationalized.  

Your mouth opened to ask another question when glasses were chimed and dinner was cleared away. Champagne flutes were passed around, and to your horror you realized it was time for your toast. You stood in a fluid motion, adjusting your gown and your hair before heading toward the microphone next to the table with the bride and groom.

–

You spent the rest of the night getting drunk. Champagne became cocktails and cocktails became shots–all with your mother and new stepfather and family and friends from your childhood. Tipsiness made you remove your heels, kicking them off to the side to a forgotten corner as your aching feet pressed against the polished floor. 

The dance floor was cramped, the band having transitioned partway through the night to someone’s phone with a playlist hooked up to the speakers. You watched your mom laugh as she was spun around by her new husband, making you smile as you nursed your glass of wine. 

“You lost something.” Joel approached, pointing to your strappy heels with a lazy finger. 

You grinned, your teeth digging into your lower lip for a moment as you looked up at him. “Looks like you did, too–a few things actually,” you said, nodding toward his shucked suit jacket and tie. The top few buttons of his white shirt were open, revealing just enough of his tanned chest to feel dangerous. He was more disheveled than before, a chilled beer bottle held loosely in his fingers and his cheeks flushed.

Joel chuckled, taking a step closer to you as he took a long drink from his beer. You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed, taking a sip of your red wine in tandem.

There was something about this man that had you all kinds of flustered, a giddy lightness in your chest when he focused his attention on you. “So why aren’t you out there dancing?” Joel asked, his warm eyes surveying the dance floor before returning.

You shook your head, a demure smile and a shrug. “Never was much of a dancer.” The last time you really danced was wasted at a frat party in college, the lights low and the music making the house shake. Far from a respectable barn wedding, and definitely not your mother’s respectable barn wedding. 

“That’s a shame,” Joel smiled at you, pressing just a bit closer, “a pretty girl like you should be out there.” 

You were surprised by the compliment, nearly choking on your wine as your eyebrows lifted. Joel was smirking, his whole body leaning toward yours. You were warm to the touch, your entire face burning under his attentions. It felt like you were in high school again, pining after some older boy that you assumed would never look at you twice–but here he was, looking.

“Do you always flirt with your friend’s stepdaughters?” you asked, hoping to come off as hard to get. Realistically, he already had you in the palm of his hand.

Joel pursed his lips, something mischievous flashing in his dark eyes for a moment. “Just the ones that look like you,” he said, his deep voice low. It was almost too quiet to hear over the music, making you shift forward so you could hear him better.

“Joel.” It would've been chastising if it wasn’t for your bright smile. He exuded an easy confidence that was magnetic, it had your nerves on fire as you selfishly hoped that he would do more than just flirt with you. Your gaze was on his lips for a moment, taking in the lines of his full bottom lip and tidy mustache before meeting his eyes again.

“The couple is getting ready to leave!” You both looked toward the door and watched the wedding planner usher guests out the barn doors. Sparklers were thrust in everyone’s hands, the photographer already positioned at the end of the walkway near the rented white Rolls Royce.

Joel’s hand found the small of your back, warm through the thin fabric of your dress as he guided you toward the door. The wedding planner handed him two sparklers, the long kind that wobbled under their own weight. 

The guests had divided into two lines, waiters lighting sparklers on either side of the column created. Joel handed you one as you stood at his side, your bare feet on the warm concrete. You held it out from your body, focused on the bright sizzle of the sparks as they made their way down the lines of powder.

Your mother and Shawn walked through the column of sparklers on cue, laughing and smiling while holding hands. They looked so happy. You could hardly imagine being that happy with someone.

She broke off for a moment to embrace you, making Joel thoughtfully pluck the sparkler out of your fingers so you didn’t burn her. 

Tears pushed at your eyelids, overwhelming joy for your mother finally breaking free of your chest. You whispered ‘I love you’s into one another’s ears and pressed kisses to cheeks as you clung to each other. The photographer’s camera was shuttering nearby, catching every intimate moment.

Finally you let her go, tearful and smiling as Shawn pulled her toward the car that would take them to their hotel. Joel’s large hand found the curve of your waist, bringing you to his side as you watched your mother get into the car. 

You were tipsy enough to allow it.

He was warm, smelling like cigar smoke and whiskey and cologne. You both were quiet as you watched the car pull away, your shoulders fitting in the space between his arm and torso.

“You wanna help me find my jacket? Think I left it around back when I was smoking a cigar with Shawn,” Joel murmured into your hair. His fingers pressed into your waist, his breath on your neck.

It was enough to distract you. You blinked your tears away, fingertips brushing at the corners of your eyes to make sure your makeup was still intact. “Sure,” you whispered, looking up at him after you’d composed yourself.

Your heart skipped a beat when Joel took your hand, tugging you along with him down the path on the outside of the barn. Both of you were tipsy, giggling and stumbling a bit over the paving stones that had been set in the tall grass. The lights faded behind you, the dim glow through the high windows of the barn and the solitary strand of Edison bulbs between the trees just enough to navigate by. 

It all happened so fast, you didn’t even know who initiated it. Joel’s calloused hands were cupping your cheeks and jaw, tilting your head up as your lips met his. He tasted like whiskey and the sweet wedding cake, making you sigh into the kiss as your fingers twisted in his shirt and pulled him close. 

You had to stand on your tip toes to kiss him properly, a few soft laughs escaping the both of you when the hard cartilage of your noses bumped and teeth clashed. 

He took steps forward until your shoulder blades pressed against the side of the barn. Joel crowded you in, one hand leaving your cheek to brace against the wood behind your waist as he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip. You could feel him smiling.

You always found French kissing to be weird, never knowing quite what to do with your tongue. Whenever a guy had initiated it you managed to cut it off quickly, moving on to some other method of making out to spare yourself the embarrassment of letting your tongue sit there like a dead fish.

Of course you’d seen people do it, always seeming like a lot more licking each other than kissing. Nevertheless, the second time Joel ran his tongue along the seam of your lips you found yourself parting them for him.

Suddenly, you understood. Joel’s tongue massaged over yours as he groaned softly. You wanted him to consume you, letting him take control as he explored your mouth. He tilted your head back more, leaning over you with his full height. You flicked your tongue along his, spine arching toward him in an attempt to get closer.

The horn of the hotel shuttle startled you as you broke apart, chests heaving and your lipstick smeared onto Joel’s mouth. 

“You staying at the same hotel as everyone else?” Joel asked, nosing at your hairline as his hands roamed over your dress. He bunched it in his fists, raising the hem above your calves and wrinkling the fabric.

“I am,” you breathed, twisting your fingers in his thick curls. 

Joel smiled against your earlobe, nipping at it. “Wanna continue this in my room? Got a king size bed and everything,” he drawled, pulling back to look down at you. There was a sparkle in his eyes, his smile was breathtaking.

You wiped your lipstick off his bottom lip with your thumb, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “You sure?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest in a form of protection from Joel’s possible rejection. 

He offered, but there was still a part of you that was worried.

He furrowed his brow, a smile still on his face as he looked down at you in the dark. “'Course I’m sure. Go get your shoes, baby, and I’ll see you on the shuttle.” Joel spun you toward the nearest door to the barn, lightly smacking your ass go get you moving.

You yelped, swatting at his hand with a glare. 

“Go on, before I ruin that pretty dress of yours in the dirt out here,” he told you, a smirk on his face as he nodded his chin toward the door. You rolled your eyes, acquiescing to his instructions.

—

It took Joel no time to get you down the hall from the packed elevator and to his room. He clumsily tapped his keycard against the sensor, stamping kisses along the side of your neck as you giggled in the cage of his arms.

Finally he got it to unlock, tightening an arm around your waist as he pushed the door open. Joel took wide, staggered steps on either side of your body as he ushered you inside. 

As soon as the door snapped shut he was already lifting the bottom of your dress, kisses turning into bites on the curve of your neck. “Jo-el,” you whined through giggles as you grabbed the forearm he’d locked around your waist. 

“Unfair that you’re this fucking pretty,” he mumbled, making your face heat up as you tried to protest. Joel shushed you by grabbing a handful of the meat of your thigh, groaning in your ear. 

“How’s it unfair?” you managed to ask, your head spinning from the overwhelming presence of Joel. His rough, calloused hands were groping at your soft flesh, his lips sucking marks on your neck like you were teenagers. 

The room was relatively untouched, his open suitcase on the stand near the large windows on the far side of the room. The curtains were slightly open, moonlight filtering in. “S’unfair that I didn’t meet you sooner,” Joel said, scraping his blunt teeth over the sensitive spot just under your earlobe. You shivered in his arms.

He separated from you just enough to shuck his suit jacket that he had haphazardly put on for the shuttle, tossing it on the little sofa in the room. You turned after stepping out of your heels, linking your hands behind Joel’s neck and pulling him in for another kiss. 

Joel smiled into it, his hands grabbing your waist and holding you flush against his body. “You still wanna do this?” His fingers moved to your spine and played with the zipper on the back of your dress, looking down at you as he waited for your answer. "Don't want you to feel pressured or anything."

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be,” you murmured, carding your fingers in his thick curls.

Joel just groaned, pressing you flush against him as he captured you in another needy kiss. He pulled the zipper of your dress down in one fluid motion, making a shiver prickle up the length of your spine.

“Let me see ya, baby,” he said against your mouth, pulling the thick straps of your dress down your arms. 

You let the fabric pool at your feet, your sheer, skin-colored bra and panties leaving little to the imagination. A wave of insecurity flashed over you, your skin suddenly feeling stretched too tight over your body as your face and neck heated up. 

You were too aware of the parts of yourself that you didn’t like: the dimpled flesh on the outside of your thighs and the hairs you hadn’t plucked away because the wedding was the last place you thought you’d find a one night stand. A wobbly smile formed, your instinct making you bury your face in Joel’s neck to hide.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear his praise. His massive hands ran down your sides, thumbing at the mesh of your bra and panties before he started moving you backwards.

Your calves hit the bed, making you squawk in an unflattering way as Joel lowered you to the mattress. “You’re so gorgeous,” he breathed, his lips trailing down your neck until he was kissing and sucking at your sternum. He nudged your knees apart with his free hand, his other forearm planted on the mattress to hold his weight off of you. He slotted himself in the space between your thighs as his tongue laved over your nipple through the mesh fabric of your bra.

The noise that came out of your throat was embarrassing. Your breath turned into a strangled moan, eyebrows pinching together. The sensation only made your arousal increase tenfold, spine already arching to press your tit against his mouth. 

Joel chuckled, soft brown eyes ticking up to look at your face. “That sensitive?” he said, more of a statement than a question. You found yourself nodding anyway. He thumbed at your other nipple, making it bud against the thin fabric and pulling another whine from your throat. He snickered.

“Don’t tease,” you huffed, wiggling your hips and lightly squeezing his sides with your knees. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” Joel muttered, a smile stretching on his lips as he rolled the pad of his thumb over your nipple again. He placed kisses along your stomach, making you suck in the soft flesh on reflex. His coarse facial hair tickled your skin, making you giggle a bit as he continued to work his way down your form.

“Just wanna taste ya, okay?” Joel asked, his broad shoulders between your spread thighs. His thick fingers hooked into your panties, manipulating your legs so he could pull them off and toss them somewhere in the room. He pressed your legs apart before you could snap them shut, a seed of worry taking root in your mind as you looked down at him.

You’d never been so self-conscious during a hook-up before, but for some reason Joel felt different. Your thoughts were preoccupied on how you looked from his vantage point, if you smelled alright and if anything looked weird.

“Been wanting to taste you all night, ever since I saw you standing up there during that damn ceremony.”

He spread you apart with his thumbs, eyes focused on your already wet pussy as a smirk stretched across his features. He just stared, making you want to crawl back into yourself. Then the feeling of his tongue on your clit makes you forget your worries, your face scrunching as you moaned. Joel hooked your leg over his shoulder, your heel pressing against his back as he pushed your thighs even further apart. 

You couldn’t remember a time when you’d been so soaked before, sticky arousal practically gushing out of you. Joel’s wide tongue licked long stripes up your cunt, careful to practically gulp down everything that he could. He was groaning as he ate you out, his big hands digging into your waist to pull you closer. The coarse hair of his beard was rough against the soft skin of your inner thighs 

“Oh–oh god, Joel,” you sighed, propping yourself up on an elbow so you could look at him. 

Your thighs were quaking, pressing against his ears as your hips twitched. Joel’s dark eyes were hazy and half lidded as he lapped over your clit, working with a focus you’d never experienced with any other man. He looked beautiful between your legs, belly-down on the mattress and still dressed in his button down shirt and slacks. 

One of his hands left your hip, snaking up your stomach to reach blindly until he cupped your breast. He pulled at the cup of your bra, revealing your peaked nipple. The bud was immediately pinched between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch your back as you let out another whine of his name.

Joel dipped down to shove his searing tongue inside of you as his nose bumped into the swollen bead of your clit. A bolt of lightning ricocheted up your spine, a gasp leaving you. It felt so good you could almost cry, your chest heaving and hips clumsily grinding toward his mouth. You were already starting to tremble, pleasure sparking in the pit of your stomach as he mouthed at you. 

And then he pulled back.

“Joel!” you yelped, starting to sit up as your gaze hardened into a glare. Your pussy clenched around nothing, neglected and empty with an interrupted orgasm.

He huffed a laugh, looking down at you as he knelt on the bed in front of you. “You’re right, baby, that’s my name,” he teased, his voice deep and smokey. 

He grabbed you roughly by the hips, pulling so you fell to your back again. “You fucker–” Joel cut you off by pressing the backs of your knees until you were bent in half, a brief show of just how strong he was. His calloused hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, readjusting you again so the small of your back was propped up against his quads. You’d never been in this angle before, your pussy the highest point of your body as he pushed his forearms against your thighs to keep you still.

Joel’s hot breath washed over your cunt before he delved back into it, greedy as he started sucking on your clit. With the way you were contorted, you were completely helpless, any attempt to move your hips just made your thighs push uselessly against his arms. You were soaking, your arousal dripping down to your asshole as you whimpered pathetically.

He went at a leisurely pace, taking his time to tongue at you and lick long stripes from your perineum to your clit. Your hands were clenching in the white comforter on the hotel bed, your chest heaving. There was something about being completely at his mercy that made your head spin.

You wanted to be greedy, take everything he would give you; but, Joel was in no rush, languidly pressing his face into your pussy despite your best efforts to get him to speed up. 

It was overwhelming in all the right ways, your head spinning as you watched Joel lick at you like he wanted to consume every part of you. Joel cupped your breast in a hand, strumming his thumb lightly over your nipple to keep it stimulated as you gasped. 

You were delirious by the time he sunk two fingers into you, almost making you scream. Joel took a few breaths, his pink lips swollen and shiny with your arousal as he studied your expression. You could hardly think straight, strings of curses mixed with his name falling from your lips as you panted like a bitch in heat. 

The squelching sound of his fingers lazily pumping into your pussy filled the hotel room, loud enough to make your cheeks burn. You wetted your lips, trying to catch your breath beneath Joel.

“So fucking tight around my fingers,” Joel mumbled, the words muffled and wet because he didn’t pull away. It didn’t even feel like he was talking to you, communing with your pussy instead. The praise went directly to your head, making you tighten around his fingers. You threaded a hand in his hair, keeping his mouth pressed against you. “Tastes just as good as I expected.”

“Oh… oh my god,” you breathed, your climax building toward its precipice. 

Joel wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, just barely speeding up the rhythm of his fingers fucking into you. His thumb on your nipple followed suit, matching the motion as tears filled your eyes. Your fingers threaded into his curls, your brows furrowed as you pulled on his hair. He grunted against you, not letting up as he worked you up toward the edge. 

When you came it was a whole body event. Your legs trembled, hips burning from the awkward angle Joel had bent you into. Your back arched, breath pausing in your chest. Your cunt clenched around his fingers, sucked tight and feeling every inch of them inside you. The pleasure was white-hot as it coursed through you, leaving your nerves buzzing and your ears ringing as your body went limp.

“So pretty when you come,” Joel said, his thick fingers still deep inside you.

You were almost nonverbal, your response a delirious sob as you looked up at Joel with watery eyes. He caressed your cheek, gently stroking your jaw and thumb wiping over your lower lip. You kissed the pad of it out of reflex, the motion making his expression soften for a moment.

Then he started to massage the spongy spot inside of your dripping pussy, making your eyes roll back. “Too sensitive,” you whined, grabbing onto his forearm in a weak attempt to stop him. 

“Trust me, baby, I’ve got you,” he said in that syrupy tone, gaze still locked on your face as you squirmed. He took his hand away from your cheek, holding one of your legs to keep you still as he fucked his fingers into you. “You can do one more for me, right?”

The need to please him made you nod, taking in a deep and shaky breath. You couldn’t do anything but take it, your mouth dropping open and your back arching. The overstimulation made you tremble, your whole body squirming. Breaths kept huffing out of you, your brows pinched tight as you tried to relax. It was hard to think straight, hell, it was hard to even breathe. 

Joel pulled his fingers out of you for a moment to strum over your swollen clit, only touching you with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. He continued until you were straining against him, moaning and sobbing his name. It was like he was carved from stone, hardly giving you any leeway as he kept you in place. The pressure in you built faster this time, it was almost embarrassing how quick he was able to get you to the edge. 

“Joel, Joel, Joel–ohmygod,” you gasped, reaching for purchase against his thigh. His dress pants were soft under your fingers as you squeezed, your body practically vibrating. 

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured soothingly, pressing a wet kiss to the back of your thigh as his fingers hooked back into you. 

Joel fucked you on them at a ruthless pace as his thumb rolled over the crest of your sex, your mouth opening in a wordless cry as you fell into your second orgasm of the night. You were completely lost, your eyes squeezed shut as your muscles spasmed against the restraint of Joel’s arms. White noise filled your mind, your body melting against Joel’s thighs and the bed as your legs fell open even further. 

He rubbed along the seam of your cunt soothingly, calloused fingers working you through the aftershocks. Your eyes were completely hazed when you looked up at him, splayed on the bed like every bone had been pulled from your body. He looked positively giddy, his wet fingers smearing on your thigh as he rubbed your legs in an effort to help you come back to yourself.

Joel let you off of him, returning your spine to the mattress as he leaned over you to give you a kiss. You hummed into it, smelling and tasting your salty-sweet slick on his lips and facial hair. “Please fuck me,” you begged between presses of his mouth, desperation easy to hear in your tone.

“‘Course I will, baby,” he said, getting off the bed to quickly undress himself. You shakily sat up, unclipping your bra at your back and tossing it aside. 

Joel was impressive, his body rippled with muscles beneath a layer of fat that told you he was eating well. Your gaze dragged down him, mouth watering as you finally saw his cock. It was big, the same tanned tone of his skin with a flushed tip. It jutted from a patch of trimmed, dark hair that was accentuated by the happy trail beneath his navel. You swallowed thickly, pussy clenching at the thought of him fucking you into the mattress.

You kissed him eagerly as he got back on the bed, part of you so desperate to please him. Joel was older than you, so much more experienced, you just wanted him to like you. 

He grunted, curling a hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. His other hand traveled down your body, massaging your hip with his thumb. You were putty in his hands, your own arms in a loop around his neck.

“Lay down,” Joel mumbled against the hinge of your jaw, nipping at the bone. You whimpered, fingers digging into the broad muscle of his shoulders as you complied. Joel ran a hand over you, sliding it down the valley between your breasts and over your soft stomach. 

The backs of your thighs were pressed against his quads as he took himself in his hand, sliding the blunt head of his cock along your pussy. You clenched around nothing, desperate and wanting. “Joel, please.” 

You couldn’t take waiting anymore.

He smirked, notching himself at your entrance and obliging you. Joel pressed and pressed and pressed until his hips were completely snug against yours. He split you in half across the width of his cock, moving slow to give you some time to adjust. It felt like he’d consumed all of the extra space in your body, you even felt him in your throat. 

You breathed brokenly, back arched and hips twitching as you struggled to find a comfortable position. You weren’t a virgin–weren’t anything close to it, really–but it felt just as overwhelming as your first time.

Joel bent over you, his elbows on either side of your head carrying his weight as he ground his hips against yours. His forehead pressed into your shoulder, a heated groan rumbling from his chest. It was hard to make sense of things, rattled breaths filling your chest as your mind whirred uselessly. He peppered kisses over your face, his lips wet and warm as he showered you in affection.

Then he moved his hips, the roll of them slow and syrupy and making you nearly choke. You grabbed at his biceps, an attempt to anchor yourself to him as he started to rut his hips into yours. He made room for himself with every press of his cock, molding you to the shape of him.

Joel collected your leg with a rough hand, pushing your knee toward your chest. He let it come to rest in the curve of his elbow, palm pressed flat to the comforter as he spread you open wider. Your hips protested as he splayed you apart, the discomfort easily taking a backseat to your pleasure.

You keened, mouth falling open as he sank even deeper inside of you. Your breaths came out in little mewls, matching Joel’s grunts as you met each thrust with a weak roll of your hips. His lips were at your throat, sucking more marks into the skin and his facial hair scratching against you. “Goddamn, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” Joel groaned into the curve of your neck, still keeping an even rhythm

You let out a breathy laugh–you felt the same way about him. He lifted himself to get a better look at you, dark brown eyes as warm as the summer sun as his gaze drifted all the way down to where his cock was buried in you. He grunted at the sight, pupils dilating like drops of ink in water.

His free hand lifted off its elbow, his weight shifting to one side so he could wet the pad of his thumb with a lick of his tongue. You were making sounds you couldn’t control, each thrust pushing a small gasp from your throat. Then, Joel dropped his hand to your lower abdomen, gently tracing the curve of your belly down into the soft thatch of hair you hadn’t bothered to shave.

A calloused thumb found your clit, swirling over it with a confident pressure in a way that made your eyes nearly roll back in your skull. Joel was pounding into the spot that made you see stars, merciless in his pace. “Joel… oh god…”

You could feel the flutter of your orgasm starting, your legs trembled against his arm and the curve of his waist. You chanted his name like a prayer, overstimulated tears starting to squeeze out of the corners of your eyes and roll into your hairline. He just soldiered on, grinding his thumb over your clit as he worked you higher and higher toward the edge.

A rattling gasp escaped your throat as you pulsed around Joel, your brows pinching and your body stiffening beneath his. You could feel the release from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head, your nails digging into his thick biceps as the flickering pleasure turned into a full on forest fire. You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto the mattress with you as you held him close.

“Fuck,” Joel moaned into your neck. His thrusts became sloppy fast, his discipline gone to the wayside now that he made you come on his cock. You felt him twitch inside you, his breath coming out in hot huffs against the curve of your shoulder. His hand grabbed your hip, pulling you down to match his frantic thrusts as he moaned your name into your skin.

You wanted to pull his head away from you so you could see how his face looked when he finished. The muscles in his abdomen clenched, his hips grinding tight to yours as he came inside of you. You moaned with him, the feeling of being filled up by him satiating a need you didn’t know you had as you dragged your blunt nails on his scalp.

Joel finally collapsed, the weight of his body pressing down on you as you combed your fingers through his hair. His hips were cradled by your legs, sweat slicking your skin wherever it was pressed together. You breathed against one another, pulling each other close as you basked in the afterglow.

You were sharing the same air, pressing loose kisses to each other's warm skin as you melted into each other for an unknown amount of time. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours.

“We should clean up,” you finally breathed, able to come back to yourself. 

Joel nodded against your neck, you felt it more than you saw it. You giggled after he didn’t move, still leaving you helpless and pinned beneath him. He seemed to make himself even more comfortable, arms constricting around you and face nuzzling closer to your throat.

“Joel,” you chastised, lightly shoving at his shoulder. It was half-hearted and meaningless–you were more than content to stay here all night if you had to.

“I like how you say that, Joel,” he said, mimicking your voice in an annoyingly high-pitched tone. It made you laugh, throwing your head back against the comforter as you shook it. 

He hissed, pulling away from you just enough to prop himself up on an elbow. “You clench around me like a fucking vise when you laugh like that, baby,” Joel muttered, swirling his fingertips over your skin. He didn’t move to pull out of you quite yet, the two of you relishing in the intimacy of your embrace.

A slow smirk crossed his face, his dark eyes flickering back up to meet yours. “Plus, what’s the point of cleaning up if I’m not done with you yet?”

–

Needless to say, you were sneaking out of his room when the dregs of sunlight started streaming through the hotel room windows, sore and exhausted, with his phone number typed into your phone and his hickeys all over your skin.

[poeticpascal]

I've Got You (Dbf!Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a date set up by your father goes wrong, your secret boyfriend and Dad's best friend races to protect you.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, attempted sexual assault, abusive language, reader's date is a tory prick, soft!dom!Joel, blowjob, unprotected sex, use of pet names.

A/n: So... this is my first time writing smut. I am super proud of this one, so please let me know what you think! Requests are open so for more Joel/Pedro action, you know where to find me x

Dating your Dad’s best friend is hard. And stupid. Really, you have no clue why either of you thought this'd be a good idea. But you were so far down this path now, so entangled in late night meet-ups and whispered phone calls and unspoken thoughts that sounded a lot like ‘I love you’, that it was too late to turn around and steer the sinking ship of this utter mess back to shore.

More than anything, you hate not having any normalcy with him. You can’t fall straight into his arms after a hard day. You can’t cuddle into his side with a bowl of popcorn watching crappy weeknight telly. You can’t go to the store together, holding hands and making him laugh as you insist on buying a flavour of ice cream that you know he’d love. And it sucks.

Because everyone said Joel would never be one to settle down. He’s too wild, too rough to fit into a polished little box like that. And you’d thought the same. Until you fucked him, then fucked him again, and kept going back until you could see the pain in his eyes each time you left. You could practically feel the heaviness settle in his stomach as you left his bed to sneak back home. It hurts him as much as it does you, and if you weren’t so incredibly in love with him, that would’ve been enough to make you run.

Despite how long you’d kept this going now, a good 6 months at least, it never got any easier. Especially when your Dad started talking about dating. He was protective, but more than anything he wanted to see you happy. So when you suddenly became distant, hiding in your room more often and going out on dates much less, he was concerned. Nowhere near as concerned as he’d be if he found out why you were acting that way, you thought, but concerned all the same.

So when he came home one day, beaming and shouting for you to come downstairs, you thought nothing of it. When he explained there was a new apprentice at his work that he thinks you’d like, you weren’t surprised. And when he told you he’d set up a blind date with said boy, you felt sick.

Because you really couldn’t get out of it. You tried.

“Dad, I just don’t feel like dating right now.”

“Oh come on, you used to have a new date every few weeks. I’m just worried about you. Matthew's really nice, and he likes the same shitty music you do-”

“It’s good music.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I just…” he paused, his worry painted on his face, and there's no way you could’ve said no to him. “Honey, I want you to be happy. I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently” - your best friend, you thought - “but I just need to know you’re okay. So give this a go, for me, alright? And if you have an awful time, that’s it, I’ll never set you up again.”

You sighed. He was right; it’s just one night, one date. One box you have to tick to relieve the pressure that comes from having an affair with your next door neighbour, the one more than twice your age, the one your Dad would call a brother. And besides, your Dad would be working an overnight job, so you’d be spending the night at Joel’s anyway. Something to look forward to.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll go. For you.”

He pulled you in for a hug, tight, and you hugged him right back because you really do hate having to keep this from him. He pulled away, smiling - “great! It’s tonight at 7. He’ll pick you up.”

“You already arranged it?!” You near enough shrieked, but he’d already sauntered off to the kitchen, giggling as he went. 

Typical.

So that’s how you ended up here, at 6:55pm, waiting by the front door for Marcus - or Michael, or something like that - to pick you up. Your phone buzzes, Joel’s name flashing on the screen, that alone making you feel that much calmer.

You’d text him as soon as you talked to your Dad, letting him know about the date. He understood, and you loved that about him; he was mature, compassionate, and he was more than secure in the fact that no matter who you talked to, who flirted with you on nights out, who you were set up with… you’d always come back to him. 

Don’t worry about tonight, baby. It’ll go quickly. I’ll leave the door unlocked for when you get back. Text me if you need picking up. J x

You smile at his initial at the end - it’s such a Dad thing to do, but it makes you happy, especially when he adds a little kiss. He only does that for you.

The sudden sound of a car door closing snaps you out of your thoughts, Joel’s text left on read as what you assume to be your date heads up the driveway. You take a deep, nervous breath, smoothing out your dress and heading to the door just in time for his knock.

You open the door, take a good look at your date, and he’s… okay. Not unattractive, per se. Though you’d come to accept a little while ago that being with Joel had soured your perception of pretty much every other guy. His dusty blonde hair is slicked back with gel, his teeth are way too white, and he’s dripped in designer clothing that just screams, “I have a trust fund.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Matthew.” Right. Matthew. “You must be (Y/N).” He leans in to peck your cheek, and all you can think about is how smooth his skin is as it grazes yours. Nothing like Joel’s coarse stubble that you love so much - especially when it leaves red patches on your cheeks, and your neck, and if you’re really lucky -

Matthew leans back a little, confused, and you’re brought out of your daydream. “Sorry, yeah, that’s me. (Y/N).” 

Well, that was awkward.

You just need to get through these next few hours, you think to yourself, smiling at the boy and letting him lead you out of the house and into his car. You can’t help but glance towards Joel’s place across the street; it looks quiet tonight, though his truck is in the driveway, and as soon as you look up you’re sure you catch the living room blinds suddenly draw shut. You smirk.

──────

The date was going… okay. About as okay as a date you don’t want to be on, with someone you have no interest in, and another man constantly on your mind could go. You could see why your Dad liked him; smart enough, well-polished. His father was a partner in the company, you learned - oh, he’s a ‘Daddy’s credit card’ type you’d thought - and by all intents and purposes he was the sort of guy any parent would hope to see their daughter end up with.

It’s never that easy though, is it?

Because he isn’t rough around the edges like Joel. He doesn’t have his stature, or carry himself with the same brute certitude. You can’t imagine him fucking you up against the wall, working himself up until he’s almost animalistic, somehow using you and worshipping you at the same time. And you can’t see him wrapping you up so tightly afterwards, holding you close and whispering how good you were for me, how proud of you I am.

No, only Joel could do that, and that’s how you like it.

The bill comes, Matthew suggests you split it. You don’t mind. He takes out his credit card, flashing it in front of you. “This is my Dad’s. I can use it as much as I want.” He’s smirking like he’s got something to be proud of, and you really had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead you just smile, before paying your share and making small talk as you head out the door and towards his car.

“So, I thought we could head back to my place.”

You freeze. Yeah, no, not gonna happen. He’s got this shit-eating grin on his face, one you knew all too well from past college boyfriends - that’s a boy who thinks he’s getting some tonight. You shudder, wrapping your arms around your waist and trying to sound sincere as you reply, “this has been lovely, but I’ve got an appointment early in the morning” - not really a lie, if staying in bed with a man over twice your age getting fucked or cuddled or both counts as an appointment - “so I’d rather just head home.”

You reach for the passenger side door, but it’s locked. You try again, pulling on the handle, but it doesn’t budge. You realise then that he’s stepped closer, too close, crowding your vision as you turn to face him while keeping one hand on the door’s handle. He leans an arm against the roof of the car, right beside your head, staring you down. 

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). I’ve got the house to myself tonight, it’ll just be us. I know that’s what you want, don’t be shy.”

His free hand pinches your chin, his touch aggressive where Joel’s is rough but careful, and he tries to close the already too-small gap between you.

You dodge him quickly, slipping out from under his arm and backing up, away from the car, away from him. Matthew just watches you, incredulous, before laughing to himself and taking a step forward. “Look, baby, I know you want this. What is it, are you scared your daddy’s gonna find out?”

“What? No, I-” you splutter, but he interrupts.

“Get in the car, (Y/N). You don’t have to worry about anyone finding out. I can see the way you look at me, I bet you’re dying to fu-”

A heavy sickness has flooded your stomach, your nerves shot from the sudden escalation of what was supposed to be a quiet, albeit tedious, night. But his words hit you, and before you can even think, you’re shouting back at him. 

“You seriously think I want to fuck you? You can’t even pay your half of the bill with your own money. Fuck that. I’ll make my own way home.”

The smug look on his face is quickly washed away with anger, and you continue to slowly step backwards as Matthew follows you. A lick of fear sets in now as the pale streetlights cast shadows on his darkened expression, and you scold yourself for opening your mouth.

“The fuck did you just say to me? Do you know who my Dad is?” - this really isn’t a good time to roll your eyes - “You think you’re too good for me, you bitch? I’ll show you.”

He stalks you, and your eyes frantically dart back to the restaurant you’d just left, though you’d backtracked far enough to be almost at the door again.

People are dining and laughing, some just sitting and watching the world go by. You’re well within their view, and you turn back to see that Matthew’s gaze has followed your own and he’s connected the dots. He can’t do anything in front of them. He locks eyes with you again, scoffing, heading back to his car and loudly shouting something that sounded a lot like “fuckin’ bitch.” Nice.

He drives away; you’re safe, out of the situation, and as the relief floods you the adrenaline does too and tears prick at your eyes. You sit on a small bench just outside the restaurant, dotted with shrubbery and stains from spilt drinks you assume, and take out your phone.

Your last chat with Joel is already open, and you breathe slowly in an attempt to still your shaking hands as you type quickly,

Please come and get me. He was trying to get me to go back with him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s gone now but I have no ride home.

The text is marked as ‘read’ almost as soon as you send it, though you receive no reply. You didn’t expect to; Joel wasn’t much of a texter. Like, at all. He was slowly getting used to it, what with it being one of the only ways you could really talk when slipping over to his place was too risky. 

In this particular instance, you already knew he’d have read the text, dropped his phone without a second thought and hurried to his truck while muttering to himself what he’s gonna do to the kid, how he won’t see what’s comin’ to him.

Just how badly Joel might react worries you. He’s protective, incredibly so when it comes to you, and that combined with his white hot temper was surely a recipe for some sort of disaster.

Secretly, though, you loved it. And so as you sat on that little bench, frosty air nipping at your skin, you couldn’t help but revel in the warmth that pooled in your core at the thought of what sort of beast Joel would become tonight.

──────

It only takes him around 10 minutes to reach you, and you know for a fact he must’ve ran a red light or two because normally it’s a 20 minute drive at least into town. You stand, walking over to his truck, but before you can hop in he’s already storming out and wrapping you up in his arms, shielding you, eyes darting across the street.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“Joel, I-”

“(Y/N) where the fuck is he? I’m gonna kill that little bastard. Fucking-”

His body is tense, far more so than usual, and anger pours from him in buckets. You pull away to look up at him, his eyes still searching for the boy long gone, and you sigh. “He’s gone, Joel. He left.”

He finally meets your eyes, a cold frown etched on his face, and he somehow looks even angrier than usual. “Did he touch you?” His hands roam your body, searching for you didn’t know what, but you let him do whatever he needed to relax. To know you were safe.

“No, Joely, he didn’t. I’m fine, I promise.”

It usually softens him right up, your little nickname for him. Joely. The first few times you used it, he’d just scoff or roll his eyes, but the small smirk that crept onto his face each time let you know he loved it. Quite how much he loved it was a different story; you hadn’t got together then, though the both of you wanted it, and as your relationship blossomed you became the only one he ever let call him anything other than Joel.

It doesn’t work this time, though, and he remains stern, finally letting you go and searching your eyes for even a hint of anxiety or fear. “What happened?”

“He tried it on, I said no. He tried again, I backed up and made sure there were people watching,” you nod towards the restaurant, still bustling with life. “And he left.”

Joel nods. “You tell him to fuck off?”

“‘Course i did.” 

It seems as if he finally lets up then, giving you a proper hug, one arm around your neck and the other around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hard, and the tension leaves him. “That’s my girl.”

You squeeze him tight, burrowing into his shirt and inhaling the scent of him that you loved so much. With one arm around your shoulders, he guides you back to his truck, opening the door for you and helping you. He does it everytime, but it still makes you blush, and you’re sure his lips smirk slightly as your cheeks turn red. Worth it.

The ride back to home is quiet, only the sound of his radio and passing traffic echoing between you. He keeps a hand on your knee, always protective, and every now and then you rub your palm over it to let him know you appreciate it. To say thank you.

Joel was never good with words, and you’d learned over the last few months just how much he relies on touch to express himself. To show love. You’d picked up on his habits, his little signs, his way of telling you his deepest thoughts without having to speak a word.

And when you reciprocated, when you wrapped your hand around his, or brushed his side at the neighbours’ BBQ, or kissed his shoulder in the kitchen, you knew just what it meant to him.

Your driveway is empty as Joel turns onto your street - your Dad must have set off for work already. You sigh in relief; you didn’t have the energy to explain all this to him, and certainly not the energy to try and sneak into Joel’s without him seeing.

Joel steps out first, taking a quick look around to make sure no nosey neighbours were watching, a precaution you were both used to by now. He grabs the door for you again, holding your hand and helping you out, holding you close to his side as he unlocks the door and you both slip inside.

“What do you want to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He pauses, looking at you, concerned. ”No. You need somethin’ to drink. You need to- to lie down, or somethin’.”

You follow him into the kitchen as he stalks past you, not giving you time to answer and filling a glass with water and ice. “Drink,” he hands it to you.

You take it, thanking him and sipping as he watches. It’s sweet; he cares about you, so much, and when he looks at you like this you can’t help but feel butterflies swirl in your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” It’s almost a whisper, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard if it weren’t so still already in his house.

“Hm?” You look at him, confused.

“I’m sorry he did that to you. S’not - s’not right. I mean, shit, what if you couldn’t get away?” He was spiralling.

“Hey, hey. Joel, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You set down the glass and take him in your arms. He calms, instantly, holding you tightly against him and cupping the back of your head with his hand.

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

“I know.”

He sighs. “I just wanna protect you, honey.”

“I know.”

He pulls back to look at you, framing your face with his hands and running his thumbs along the edge of your cheekbones.  You lean in, letting his lips capture yours in that sweet but desperate way that only Joel can, and moan into his mouth. He slips his tongue against yours, letting one arm fall to your waist as his hand lingers around the hem of your jeans.

The kiss becomes desperate and you reach for his belt, your arousal becoming unbearable as the memory of him so full of anger and protectiveness spins in your mind like a carousel. He breaks the kiss and you groan, chasing his swollen lips with yours.

“We don’t have to do this.” His southern drawl is slick with need, his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. The moment is so sweet, so intimate, that any thoughts of what had happened today were long gone and your mind was full with sweepings of him.

“I want to.”

He grunts, pushing himself further into you so his nose brushes yours like a cat. So much so, you almost purr into him, and it makes you giggle. You curse yourself as he pulls back, cocking an eyebrow and giving you that stare you’d come to know all too well; you’re a pain in my ass, it says. But the corners of his lips turn upwards, and you step forward so you’re once again pressed right up against him, pressing gentle kisses to his jaw.

“You’ve had a big shock today, sweetheart,” he sighs.

You know he’s given up. You know he needs this as much as you do. But you humour him, and tip his head down so you can kiss his lips again. 

“So make me forget.”

It snaps something within him, and you shriek as Joel sweeps you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist in instinct and your head burying itself in his neck. He laughs at the sound you make, something you’d always known to be so rare for him, but that he does far more often now he has you. 

He carries you upstairs, gripping your thighs with his large hands, and the way he holds you so easily just turns you on more. He kicks his bedroom door open, all but throwing you on the bed and watching as you bounced softly on the sheets, undoing his belt that was already half-opened by your shaky hands.

“On your back. Lay your head towards me.”

You did as he said immediately, though your movements were slow, languid. He let you take your time; a part of you thinks he likes to watch you move for him, the way you put on a show, keeping your eyes locked on his and your lips slightly parted and puffy from his kiss. 

You lie on your back, your head dangling off the edge, looking up at him upside down. The hard outline of his cock is just centimetres above you, swollen already, and your desperation to taste it must’ve shown on your face because Joel groans out a soft, strangled “fuck.”

“You need this cock, baby? Need your throat fucked?” You just nod rapidly, desperate for him to do something other than just stand there and watch you, your arousal becoming unbearable. Joel seems to break, too, pulling down his jeans and boxers and gripping his hard length in his hands. 

It’s big at the best of times, but from this angle, his balls level with your eyes and his cock the only thing you can see when you look up at him, it’s painful how bad you need him.

You’d only discovered this position recently, on a night you’d spent at his place while your Dad was away with work, not unlike tonight. Joel had been floored, consumed with pleasure as the stretch of your spine made it so easy for him to slide himself through your mouth and down your throat, the muscles tensing around him and drawing his release much sooner than he’d have liked. 

He slides the head of his cock over your lips, painting them in his precum. You whine, lapping at his taste, desperate but you know better than to lift your hands off the bed. No, you give him control, and he lavishes it.

“Open up, babygirl.”

You comply, parting your lips and moaning as Joel pushes inside, giving you no time to breathe. You try to control yourself, inhaling through your nose and letting your muscles relax before he bottoms out, his groin almost entirely covering your face and your throat full of his thickness. 

It’s filthy, degrading, resigns you to nothing but his to fuck and use as he wants. 

You love it.

“Such a good girl, baby. So good for me, ain’t ya?” You can hardly even nod as your tongue flicks along a particularly swollen vein. He begins to move, pulling out almost entirely before slamming his cock back into your mouth. You moan again, and it hurts, in that delectable way that’ll spend the next few days reminding you of this moment.

Joel’s got one hand on the wooden foot of the bed, keeping himself steady. The other finds its way to your neck, and he stalls as he feels his cock beneath your skin, rapidly pushing in and out. He moans your name, his hips rocking into you harder and harder, chasing a release you knew he wouldn’t let himself have just yet. 

You’re completely at his mercy now, too consumed by his scent and his touch to think, and you hardly register him reaching for your hand and taking it in his own. He starts to mumble, and you only catch a few words - “my good girl. My girl. So- so fuckin’ pretty for me.”

He swells, your tongue working faster against him, his hand squeezing yours and his legs faltering when he suddenly pulls out and stands back with a whimper. Your eyes are glazed over, your sore throat misses him, and your pink swollen lips are trying to say something but you’re not sure what. It feels like his name.

“Come on, pretty girl, come here.” He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, wrapping his big arms around your back and guiding you into his lap. 

His fingers dance over your entrance, collecting the slick that soaked your thighs before pushing a single finger inside, revelling in your arousal. He admires you as you squirm, rolling your hips against his hand, desperate for more and moaning against his lips. 

It’s almost embarrassing how easy you unravel for him, and if it weren’t for your utter infatuation for the man, you’d have hidden your pleasure and at least tried to hold onto some sense of dignity. But you were obsessed, addicted to him, and he knew it. Because god, was he addicted to you, too.

He kisses you, letting another finger slip inside and catching your hiss with his mouth. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, opening his eyes to look at you, his cock twitching against your thigh. 

“Tell me what you need, angel.”

“Y- you, Joel. I need you. Please.” You hardly register yourself saying the words, but they do the trick, as Joel removes his fingers and instead lines the tip of his cock with your soaking wet entrance. 

“Please, please, fuck me. Fuck-” 

He snaps his hips upwards, driving his cock into your cunt and you gasp as he stretches you. You grip at his shoulders, sure to leave marks, but you know he loves it. 

He sets the pace, guiding you to bounce on his cock as his hips snap upwards again and again, fucking you so hard you can almost see stars. 

His head is buried in your neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin, and you try to regain some autonomy and roll your hips side to side making him mewl. 

“So - oh, fuck - so good baby, keep doin’ that.” He spurs you on as your breathless moans and the heavy slap of skin on skin fills the room, lewd but addictive.

The pace is brutal, unforgiving as your thighs tremble and you wonder if he’s feeling the burn of his movements. If he does, he doesn’t show it, just ramming into you and moaning your name against your ear. 

His hand falls from your waist and finds its way to your clit, making you gasp as he circles his thumb around the spot. The near pornographic moan that falls from his lips as you roll into his touch is nearly enough to make you cum right there, but you know better than to cum before he tells you to.

Instead he hoists you further up, giving him better control of your hips, and angles his cock so it hits that perfectly raw spot deep inside you that has tears in your eyes.

“I- I’m gonna-” 

“I know, baby. Just hold on for me. I’ve got you.” You cry at his denial, though it’s quickly forgotten as he flips you over onto your back, his head still tucked under the crook of your neck, his cock still buried inside you. He resumes his fast pace, reaching even deeper inside you with your legs locked around his waist, and you moan so loudly you worry someone’s going to hear you.

Joel doesn’t seem to care as he pulls back to look at you, marvelling at how utterly fucked-out you look for him. His pace starts to falter, each thrust more desperate than the last, and he frantically pushes his tongue into your mouth as you moan in unison.

“Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, that’s it.” You release on command, crying out as waves of pleasure spread like fire through your body, and the uncontrollable spasms of your orgasm make Joel groan as he spills inside you, still rocking into you and carrying both of your highs.

He doesn’t let his cock slip out of you as he wraps an arm under your back and rolls onto his side, holding you close as he brushes the matted hair away from your forehead and replaces it with a soft kiss. You hum, snuggling into him and trying not to gasp at the feeling of his cock inside you while you were still so sensitive. He can see you flinch and smiles, though he just wants you to rest for now.

“You okay, babygirl?” You just hum again, but he taps your chin and you look up. 

“Answer me, angel.”

“I’m good. Tired.”

Joel nods, running his hand through your hair and agreeing, “me too.” 

You’re quiet for a moment, almost dozing off as the heat that radiates from him lulls you gently to seep, when he breaks the silence again. “What’s his name?”

“Hm?” You reply, too fucked-out to really understand what he was saying.

“That little asshole. What’s his name?”

He’s looking down at you, brows knitted together, and you just sigh. “It doesn’t matter, Joel. He doesn’t matter. I promise.”

“But-“

You cut him off with a kiss, and the tension that built in his shoulders is quickly dissipated. “No ‘but’s. Get some sleep.”

“Aright,” he resigns. “I love you.”

It slips out, sudden, and he freezes before he realises the joy that’s spread across your face from his words. It’s the first time either of you have said it, and the way your eyes light up are enough to let him die a happy man. You nuzzle his nose, your hand gently lay on his chest, your eyes falling shut again. “I love you too, Joel.” He wraps you up tighter, grinning, happy. In love.. “And no asking my Dad, either.”

He scoffs, “I wasn’t going to!” You just cock a brow, eyes still shut, and though you can’t see him you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Let me get you cleaned up, sweetheart.” 

He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince at the loss, and sits up on the bed. When you can still feel his weight beside you, you crack an eye open to see him quickly typing something on his phone, and you frown. “Joel?”

He startles and drops his phone, turning to you and kissing the top of your head. “Sorry, baby, I’m going - just gimme a sec to get you a warm cloth.”

As he leaves for the bathroom you snatch his phone, already knowing what he’d done. Your Dad’s name is at the top of the screen, the chat from just moments ago still open:

What’s the name of that kid (Y/N) went out with?

Matthew Wicks, he’s the new apprentice at work. Why?

Just wondered.

You’re weird, man.

Joel creeps out of the bathroom, frozen as he sees you lock his phone. He offers a small, guilty smile, quickly wiped away as you grab his pillow and playfully launch it at his chest. 

“JOEL!”

──────

Thank you so much for reading! As ever, comments and weblogs are so appreciated, and please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics!

[missredherring]

J.M. + "Tell me what you like."

Joel Miller x GN!Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 556

Contents: Post-outbreak Jackson. fluff. Reader has bad eyesight and mentions wearing glasses.

A/N: This is another of my journal prompt fills! The wheel of destiny picked Joel Miller and "Tell me what you like." from the inexperienced smut prompts.

This is very self-indulgent for me. Don't ask what I'd do to have Pedro read me my favorite book.

Not beta'd. Any mistakes are my own.

Summary: "Tell me what you like."

Series Masterlist

“Can you read this?” 

Joel sighs and gives you a long-suffering look. “Did Tommy tell you I can’t read? I swear that idiot don’t know when to stop jokin’ around.”

He expects you to laugh or at least show him that crooked grin he’s come to like so much, but your face is serious. You sit down beside him at the long table set up to divide the space into its printing and library sections. Calling the three shelves against the far wall a library is generous, especially when all the books spread out across them could probably be fit in half of one if they were condensed. But you’ve done a good job at making the space cozy by adding interesting knick knacks and dragging a beat up couch and mismatched chairs into the space. The rug in the center of it all has seen better days, but that could be said about everything and everyone within the community.

“No, no, he didn’t." You set a small book down on the table, distracting him from his annoyance. 

“This is the one thing I’ve managed to keep safe for 20 years. This tiny, pocket-sized book.” Your hands are still hovering over it, fingertips in contact with the edges like you can’t bear to let it out of your grasp. “My glasses, on the other hand, didn’t make it.”

Joel sucks his teeth and gestures for the book you still haven’t given up. You only hesitate a second before pressing it carefully into his hand, like transferring it securely into his care would ensure it’s continued safety. It’s about as big as his hand, covered in a dark red fabric. Persuasion and Jane Austen are on the spine and the edges of the pages are sprayed with gold. He’s sure he’s heard of the author before, but that’s about it. It’s battered and stained in some places, but it looks like it’s in good condition. He almost swears when he cracks it open, but he can feel your gaze on him. The text is fucking tiny. The pages are like the ones in his mother’s bible: so thin and delicate you can see the text on the back of it coming through. Easy to tear, easy to destroy. You must really love this story to take such good care of it when you can’t even read it anymore. 

“Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage…” The text is damned small but he can read it. If he squints. 

When he looks up again you’re watching his finger on the line of text with greedy eyes. He likes that look on you, especially when it’s directed at him.

“How bad is your eyesight?”

“Pretty bad. I can get by most of the time, but… I can’t read most of the books here without a headache, and certainly not that one.”

He makes a noise and looks down at the text again. “You’ll have to tell me what you like,” He jerks his head to the bookshelves. “Which books.”

Your entire face lights up in surprise and delight and Joel’s glad he still has the book in his hands so he can’t rub at the warm spot that blooms in his chest.

[cxrsed-angel]

I ♡︎ DILFS

word count: 3k

Warnings: smut 18+ only (minors DNI), Daddy kink (kinda expected), established relationship, age gap (reader is between 24-25, Joel is in his 50s), oral (male receiving), fem!reader

A/N: I've always thought Joel was hot but Pedro Pascal playing him really did it for me, trying to improve my smut so I hope this is better than my last one. <3!!

You were going through an old building as a short cut you didn't realize it at first from the decay and rubble, but the more you looked around, you could see that it used to be a mall. You looked inside a store seeing if you could find anything useful when you spot it. It was a sign from fate; you go and grab the shirt and hold it up to look at. Considering what it's been through, it was in pretty good condition, like it was saved for you. You quickly take off your backpack and put it on. It was a little small; you assume it was a baby tee from the fit of it, but you had a long sleeve under, so you were still covered. You hear Ellie call your name and grab your stuff and run over to them. Joel starts walking, leading you out once he sees you, “Took you long enough come on lets get out of here” You see Ellie looking at the shirt, trying to read it.

 “I heart-i heart, whats a DILF?” Ellie asks more so to anyone than directly to her you could see the gears turning in her head trying to figure out what each letter means. 

You wish you could take a picture of Joel's face when he heard that, he turned around so fast, “Where the hell did you find that at” “C’mon Joel you know this is my brand, my whole motto, this is me, it was fate that brought me and this shirt together and Im never taking it off.” 

“Dead I Like, Deadly I-ok I give up what is it” you both ignored Ellie trying to figure out what DILFS are. 

“I can't take you anywhere, how do you always manage to find the most ridiculous shit during an apocalypse.”

 “Hey! what is it, I don't get it.” You hear Ellie shouting at you clearly annoyed, but youre more focused on Joel at the moment. 

“Aw Joel don't be jealous you know you're the only DILF for me” 

“Can you shut the hell up.” You giggled slightly at the clear annoyance in his voice. You loved messing with him when you can, and when it wouldn't put you in danger of course, you added some much-needed fun to his life. 

You finally leave the mall and walk out onto the road; you were so excited about your DILF shirt, you had an eye for things like this. You knew you couldn't take back everything you find but if it was small or something you really liked you took with you like when you found an old hello kitty watch, it didn't work, but it was still cute. Another time you found a Britney Spears poster in decent condition that was currently hanging up in your room, but the DILFS shirt was definitely your favorite after the poster. You were happy to add it to your little collection. 

“Can someone please explain what is a DILF I don't get it and why is Joel one?” Ellie asks for the billionth time, getting frustrated at you both for not listening to her. 

“Its da-”  You were interrupted by Joel his deep voice, a little upset at you for almost telling Ellie, you didnt think it was too inappropriate but he clearly disagreed. 

“Absolutely not youre not telling her she doesn't need to know, way too young for that, Im surprised you even know what it means” he responded, looking back at you mortified at where you had learned it from. 

“Hey! I was born before the pandemic you know” you tell him, reminding him that you’re not that young. Although compared to him, you were. 

“You were what 4, 5 when it happened can’t have remembered much before.” you heard the sass in his voice but you continue trying to prove that it shouldn't be surprising that you know what a DILF is. 

 “Okay, Im not ancient like you but still I had older friends, and we would talk about-” He interrupts you again, staring at you with frowned eyebrows. 

“Please stop there I really don’t want to know what you and your friends talk about, can we just change topics please.” If they told you about DILFs, he really didn't want to hear what else teens talked about in this world. 

“Dude c’mon, why can't you tell me, Im not a little kid.” Ellie says again, trying to get both of your attention and get you to explain it to her. You know now she’s not gonna let it go since Joel told her no. But you decided you’ll explain it later, especially after the whole playboy magazine situation, and she was around the same age you first heard it from your friends so you didnt see the issue.

“Alright from here until we get to where we are headed we are quiet, no one says a word unless you're dying got it” you could tell Joel had heard enough, and considering that you were outside you told it was best to listen to him and not distract him or yourself. 

“got it” “yes sir” you lean towards Ellie. “He’s in a mood today huh” deciding to bother him one last time before you would have be serious. 

She was about to respond until you walked right into Joel, giving you a yet intimidating glare frowning his eyebrows at you.  “alright alright, i’ll shut up.” 

After a couple hours of walking, Joel found a small safe building to sleep for the night, and you had been talking to Ellie until she fell asleep; you walk over into the room Joel was in, deciding to tease him again.

 “Hey daddy whatcha doing?” you call out in his direction, watching as he rolls his eyes at the name. 

“Stop.” he responded flatly, clearly not amused by your jokes, but you decided to keep them going. 

 “What's wrong Daddy does it make you flustered?” You thought he was going to give you another flat response or tell you to shut up. But you were wrong, instead, he stands up and walks over to you, standing closer than you anticipated, you try to step back slightly, but his arm around your waist prevents you from going too far. You feel the blood rush to your cheek and ears, your mouth goes dry, not knowing what to say or how to respond.

“Oh look who’s flustered now, sweetheart.” His deep voice teases you back, having more of an effect on you than your teasing did on him. You feel yourself get hotter, your brain is unable to focus anything except on how close he was and his rough hand around your waist forcing you closer to him, though you didn't mind. You continue blinking up at him, speechless.

“Youre so quiet now what happened, thought you were teasing me baby?” 

You continue to stare at his brown eyes, the only thing you brain was thinking way, wow hes so hot. You look up into his face, taking in his features. The wrinkles around his pretty brown eyes, the scars and cuts around his face. God you always thought he was attractive but it still amazes you how hot and pretty he was. You could look at him all day. 

He wraps both his hand around your waist, pulling you to him,places his lips on yours. You loved kissing Joel. It was rare having him kiss you while you weren’t in the safety of the QZ. He usually couldn’t relax enough to kiss you, needing to be alert and focused just in case. So this took you by surprise but his kisses always made you feel warm and safe, and in that moment, you didn't have to worry about anything. All that mattered was him. 

You wrap your hands around his neck as you deepen the kiss, pressing your lips against his rough lips, closing your eyes as you melt into his embrace; his hands lower down your waist and squeeze your ass, which surprises you so much that you let out a small gasp against his lips. Joel pulls away slightly, smiling at you “youre cute” His actions confused you; you rarely ever are intimate outside the walls, but you trusted him and if he felt comfortable you knew you were safe so you decided to mess with him “hmm I dont daddy youre pretty cute yourself.” 

He guides you over to the makeshift bed, leading you by your waist, making you walk backward, as you continue kissing him, parting your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside yours. 

 “You ain’t gonna stop are you” he asks he sits down and pulls you down onto his lap; you couldn’t tell iif he seriously was tired of you calling him that or if he just teasing too. 

 “what you don't like it Daddy?” you ask, trying to gauge his reaction you didn’t want to push it too far or actually make him uncomfortable. 

 “I never say that now did I, sweetheart?” again, he confused you does that mean he liked it or that he didn’t mind you joking about it? you stare at his face trying to see. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by him pulling your lips onto his again. But more aggressively than earlier, moaning into his mouth and rolling your hips against him as he gropes your ass through your jeans.

“Joel” You moan against his lips before you lean your head into his neck.

 “Aw baby what happened to daddy huh” you pull away, looking up at him with wide eyes, surprised. Did he like it? You look at his face and see his eyes full of lust, and you realized he liked it. He liked it when you called him daddy. You look down, suddenly getting shy and embarrassed about saying it. It was one thing saying it as a joke and teasing him about it, but to moan, it was different; it was dirtier. 

He saw you getting shy and flustered in his lap, avoiding eye contact with him. Unlike you, he could read you like the back of his hand; he could easily tell you were embarrassed.

“c’mon baby no need to be shy, I can tell you like too don’t you” he softly stroked your waist when one hand and squeezes your ass with the other. you take your gaze off the floor onto him. nodding in agreement with him.

“C’mon baby need you say it, you like calling me daddy don’t you” you could tell he wanted you to say it out loud, his hand rubbing small patterns on your waist encouraging you, reassuring you that you didn’t need to be embarrassed. 

“Yea i like it daddy” you mutter quietly, still ashamed to say in a serious setting. Not quite ready to admit to yourself that calling Joel daddy turned you on as much as it did. 

You didn't think you would like it or find it this attractive. Maybe it was your lack of a father growing up, and Joel being older than you. You didn't know why; all you knew is that once you said it, you felt yourself getting wetter. 

“hmm good girl” he takes your face into his hands, kissing you again; you slip your tongue into his mouth, his deep voice letting out a moan against your mouth. You couldnt help but grind and roll your hips against him, searching for any type of release. 

He goes to lift your shirt but stops slightly, rolling his eyes “Want me to fuck you in the I heart DILFS shirt dont you?” you look at him, nodding laughing a little “you know me so well.” 

He sighs and shakes his head. Although there’s disappointment in his voice, you can tell there’s also amusement. “ I do, dont why I tolerate you” 

 “You love me, cant live without me, I bring adventure into your life you’d be so bored without me.” you remind him why he puts up with you.

“Shut up” he mutters, though you sensed the amusement in his voice because he knows you’re right. As much as you annoyed him, he couldn’t imagine living without your teasing and antics. 

You unbutton his shirt and take it off, lightly grazing your fingers across his chest, admiring his chest and body, you see more scars and healed wounds but you also see his muscles. You’ve always loved his body. You remember the nights in your apartment placing, kissing along his waist, his chest, his stomach. 

You thought about placing marks on his chest but were interrupted by him unzipping your jeans and lifts your hips up to slide your pants off, you get off his lap, taking off the rest of your pants.  You unzip his pants, pulling them down, you stare at his bulge through his boxers and press kisses onto his dick, teasing him through his boxers. 

“Wanna suck you off” you mumble quietly, focusing on how much you need him in your mouth. You weren’t even sure he heard or understood you until you hear his deep voice speak to you, breaking you away from your thoughts. 

“What’d you say darling couldnt hear” You know he heard you he just wanted you to say it louder. 

“Can I please suck your dick daddy” you look up at him batting your eyelashes while you rub your hand against his hard dick. You feel his dick twitch against your hand while he bites his lip, suppressing a moan. 

“Goddamn darling you’re killing me” his texas accent getting stronger as he gets harder in his boxers, you loved hearing his deep texas accent come out as he gets more turned on by you. 

He pulls down his boxers, and no matter how many times you’ve seen his dick, you’re still in shocked at how big he is. You can’t help but to stare for a couple of seconds taking it in, you smile up at him before teasing him licking the tip gently as you lightly stroke him, you continue placing kitty licks on his dick. He shivers against your tongue, and you love it, love watching him fall apart because of you and seeing how much your mouth affected him. 

 You gather some spit in your mouth before you drool some onto his dick. He rolls his eyes back as you slowly stroke his cock in your hand, using your spit as lube. You hear his deep voice moaning as you lean down and lick the tip while still stroking him. You start to slowly speed your hand when you feel his hand lightly tugging your hair making you stop and stare up at him.

 “you’re gonna have to speed it up sweetheart.” 

That was all he said before his hand grabbed the back of your head and forced your lips onto his cock. You hollow your cheeks and take him in further, feeling your nose brush against his hair at the base of his cock. He moves his hips gently fucking your throat 

“Fuck you feel so good” he murmured under his breath, his voice deeper than his usual tone. You closed your eyes as you felt yourself starting to choke on him,he started to thrust his hips faster into your mouth. 

“C’mon baby look at me, look at daddy.” 

You couldn’t help but moan around him at his words, feeling yourself getting more turned on as he called himself daddy. You listen, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you continue taking him down your throat. 

“Atta girl, so pretty looking up at me like that.” you feel yourself getting warmer from his praise, loving how vocal he was, you wish you were back at his apartment so he could be louder without the risk of drawing unwanted and dangerous attention. 

He moves the hair that was falling in front of your face behind your ears “you look fucking gorgeous sucking my dick darling” feeling butterflies in your stomach as he compliments you.  

You take him out of your swollen lips when you start feeling dizzy from the lack of air; you continue to stroke him in your hands as you catch your breath until he puts his hand on your head, guiding your mouth back onto his cock. His deep voice moans out your name under his breath as he gets closer to his release. 

“fuck darling i’m close keep on-yes like that baby god you like this huh like having daddy’s dick in your mouth sweetheart?”

You nod as best you could, trying to agree, but all that comes out is your moans against his dick. You could tell he was close as his started to get slightly louder, but you could tell he was trying his best to be quiet. His deep voice, making your head go fuzzy in arousal. He start making you gag as he thrusting into your mouth faster , sloppy fucking into your mouth as he closer to his release. After a few more thrust you hear him moaning your name as he cums into your mouth. You feel his cum shoot into your mouth and down your throat.

You held your head onto his cock until he finish before you slowly took him out your mouth. He holds your cheek in his hands, lightly caressing them. 

“Open baby girl let me see.” you happily open your mouth, showing how you swallowed his cum. “Good girl baby c’mere” he pulls you onto his lap again before placing a kiss on your lips , softly biting your bottom lip before pulling away. He holds you in his lap for a couple of minutes. you lay your head on his shoulder as he softly rubs his hand up and down your back.

“if we were at home you know i’d take care of you right baby” his deep voice makes you lift your head off of him, looking into his eyes. Before you met Joel, you thought older men didn’t have much of a sex drive, you didn’t know if it was just Joel or all men in their 50s but he proved you wrong. There have been many nights in his room where he would fuck more than one time; the first time caught you by surprise. Of course, you both paid the price in the morning; both sore, aching muscles had to spend the next day in bed, not being able to do much. So you know he would have fuck if you were back at home. 

“Of course i do” you play with the hair at the back of his neck for a little while before getting off his lap so he could put his clothes back on, and you do the same. You didn't mind; you knew sucking him off was as much risk as he could take, and you didn't really feel comfortable enough to fuck out in the open like this. After you both have your clothes on, you lay down with Joel, wrapping your arms around his waist as he turned, pressing your back into your chest, falling asleep. Trying to rest before you’d have to walk back to the QZ in the morning.

[malestransforming]

Chronivac Twins

The moment I saw this AI image, I knew I had to write something. Probably one of the hottest things I have ever seen.

Special thanks to @octuscle for the image inspiration. Here is a link to their original story.

- - - - - - - -

Empty beer cans filled the table in front of the two men. The room was silent, the TV showing the console home screen, and darkness was creeping in from the night. The night was winding down, and the two friends were enjoying peaceful moment before the night truly wrapped up.

Mason breathed a heavy sigh, comfortable in his current state. He was clearly drunk, but happily drunk. He fished around in his pockets, feeling for the recent purchase he had received that day: a brand new Chronivac tablet. He pulled it out of his pocket, powering it on for the first time, watching the screen suddenly brighten, flashing the Chronivac logo. 

“Check it out!” Mason suddenly exclaimed, surprising even himself with his boldness. “I got this new Chronivac in the mail.”

Beside him sat Chris, Mason’s best friend since grade school. Chris was drunker than Mason was, with his eyes closed and his body still, but he too was in happy state of intoxication. 

“Oh yeah? What is that?” Chris slurred from the other end of the coach. The back of Mason’s head was resting on the top of the sofa, leaned back in an almost unnatural position. A massive drunken grin was plastered on his face, highlighting the comfortable state he was currently in.

Mason held up the sleek tablet to an oblivious Chris. A loading screen flashed again as the system booted up. 

“Yeah, it’s a tool that lets me change a part of my body. Actually it will change a part of both of us. They had a deal on the twins package.”

“Cool…” Chris breathed.

“Yeah. I know you have been feeling down lately, so I thought it would be nice to spice things up for you. Plus, you know you’re my bro. We’ve been buds since we were five years old. I figured it was time we made it official.”

Mason began tapping at the screen, swiping at different sliders and dials. There were dozens of different settings with labels like “Hair”, “Muscle Levels”, “Race/Nationality”… Mason balked at the overwhelming choices and options, but forced himself to stay focussed; this was a change he had wanted for a while.

“So I was thinking of doing some kind of mixed race. Hmm. Japanese and Mexican? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before. I bet that would look hot. With jacked muscles, like body builders. And since we’re gonna be twins, you’ll get it too. Sound good to you Chris?”

Chris only smiled and laughed to himself, the way drunk people often do. It was clear he was not fully present in the moment. Mason took Chris’ drunken laughter as a sign of agreement and continued with the settings page. He slid up the muscle slider to the max, added jock personalities and details such as personal trainer and fitness influencer. He double checked the ‘Race’ tab, making sure that Japanese and Mexican were both checked off. Pleased with his work, he continued on to the last section, “Target Selection” and “Transform”. He allowed the device a few moments to calibrate before confirming the two bodies in the room. He double checked that the “Twins” button was selected and hovered over the Transform button.

“All right bro. This is it. See you on the other side!”

And with that he tapped the button. The screen went blank for a moment, creating a quick sense of panic in Mason’s heart, but reappeared with a white, animated progress bar.

Mason looked down at his hands and arms. “I don’t feel any different,” he said. 

He checked the screen again. The progress bar had moved up by one pixel and showed a time remaining of 1440 minutes. 

“Oh shoot! I set the transformation duration to be 24 hours. Well that’s okay. When we wake up tomorrow, we’ll definitely see some changes! Next time you see me Chris I’ll be be a huge muscled-out bro. And a completely different race. And so will you! We’ll be twins. Pedro and Miguel. We’re gonna be so fucking hot.”

A gentle and rhythmic breathing came from the other end of the couch. Mason turned his head and grinned at Chris who had passed out on the couch. 

“See you in the morning, Miguel,” he whispered. 

-

Bright sunlight was pouring into the apartment. The morning was late, but the day was still young. Chris stirred on the sofa; he was now lying horizontally on the couch, shirtless and in his underwear. He blinked his eyes in the sunlight, rubbing his eyelids with a balled up fist, and stretching against the soft cushions of the sofa. His broad feet pushed against the far armrest, and his arms stretched off behind him. He sat up, and noticed his first change.

Looking down at his chest, Chris saw his pectoral muscles had ballooned out in front of him to a God-like proportion. He cupped his chest, making note of how his nipple had slipped down below his eye line, and squeezed the new muscle. 

“What the fuck?” He exclaimed. “Why do I have tits?” 

Mason launched himself off the sofa and dove into the bathroom. The flickering fluorescent light clicked on, revealing the extent of Mason’s initial changes. Below his chest were the unmistakeable beginnings of 6-pack abs. Mason ran his fingers over top of his stomach, remembering the slight beer gut that had been there the night before. 

He leaned in closer to the mirror and begin poking and prodding his face. His nose seemed wider and his eyes were narrower. His lips were plumping as well, into two thick pillows. He ran his meatier fingers through his darkening hair; it seemed thicker, curlier and shorter than it had before. He pulled a strand and watched it bounce back into place on his scalp. 

The sound of a door slamming brought Chris out of his trance. He stepped out of the bathroom and back into the main room.

“Bro!” Mason called from the entry-way. “Are you up?”

“Yeah! What the fuck is happening to me?” Chris replied in anguish.

Mason came around the corner and Chris immediately became aware that the changes he was going through were also happening to Mason. Mason appeared to be several inches shorter, and Chris noticed that he was roughly eye-level to himself now. His chest and abs were similarly large and muscled as Chris’ were, except Mason’s shoulders and arms were much wider. Veins pulsed across Mason’ skin and over his bulging biceps. His nose and eye shape seemed strangely familiar, as did the plumpness of his lips. Mason noticed that Chris’ hair was shorter on top with a shaved, faded appearance on the side.

“Mason, what the fuck is happening? I pass out drunk and wake up all top heavy like this! And then you waltz in looking like that! What the fuck?”

“Chill out bro,” Pedro said. “And my name isn’t Mason anymore. It’s Pedro. And your name isn’t Chris, it’s Miguel. You’re turning out to be such a hot twin.”

Chris/Miguel was unable to get anymore words out as sharp pains coursed through his arms and legs. He hunched over, wrapping his growing limbs around his torso. In front of his eyes he saw the muscles in his arms and legs double, triple and quadruple in size, into massive slabs of muscle. His trap muscles ached and burned as the fibres inside re-stitched themselves, growing to match the mass of his arms and chest. Across the room Pedro grinned in anticipation, as his adonis belt thinned out, becoming lean and chiselled, into his tight pelvis and butt. 

“Miguel, we’re going to be so hot!” Pedro’s voice was deeper and more coastal sounding. His jock-instincts were bubbling in his brain, overwriting whatever personality he had before.

“Don’t call me that. My name is Miguel. I mean Chris.” Chris stammered. “How did you even do this?”

“Bro, it was the Chronivac. I told you last night. Just embrace it. I paid good money for this twins package.”

“I need to call them. There has to be a way to reverse this.” 

With a wide stride, Chris/Miguel walked over to where his phone was, but doubled over as a burning pain seared through his stomach. He squeezed with his hands, feeling the muscles underneath swell and grow under his touch. Before his eyes his abs went from flat and empty to being completely ripped. His waist got tighter as his adonis belt and hip muscles also tensed and flexed, just like Pedro’s had.

“Bro, I have a six pack!” Chris exclaimed, his voice cracking as it matched the timbre of Pedro’s.  

“They match mine, bro!” Pedro said.

Chris shook his head. If he could just call the company and explain what the problem was, then he figured he could stop the changes. He found his phone and brought it to his face, waiting for Face ID to unlock. The phone vibrated in his dark and meaty hand, refusing to unlock. In the black mirror of his phone, he saw a completely different face than the one he was used to. His nose was wider, and his jaw was leaner. His eyes had narrowed into Asian-like features and his hair was shorter and darker than before. His face was looking identical to Pedro’s, right down to the plump lips.

In a panic, Chris typed in his passcode and Googled the number for Chronivac. The phone began ringing.

“Hello?” said a voice on the other end.

“Hello, is this support? My name is Miguel, I mean Chris. My name is Chris. I don’t own your product, but my brother Pedro — I mean my best friend Mason does. He used the Chronivac on me last night and I woke up with big muscles and my face is looking Japanese and Mexican? And the same thing is happening to him! He says we’re becoming twins. This has to be against your Terms of Service! I didn’t agree to this.”

A dark skin spot formed on the back of Chris’ hand, spreading across his skin and up his bulging arms. His skin was darkening, to match his new ethnicity. 

“It sounds to me like it might be too late to intervene. Our records show Pedro and Miguel Watanabe.”

“That’s right,” Miguel interjected. He was Miguel, not Chris.

“Yeah,” the agent continued. “So your brother got the Twins Package, and since you are legally twins now, there’s nothing that can be done to change back the transformation. But it’s going to be great being a pair of super hot Latino-Asian influencers, right?”

“Yeah,” Miguel replied absent-mindedly, and in a voice that was deepening. “Thanks anyway. Peace.” 

He hung up and tossed the phone aside. Pedro wandered over and wrapped his hand around his twin brother’s shoulder. 

“It’s at ninety-nine percent,” Pedro said, indicating the transformation process on the Chronivac. 

Miguel felt another spasm in his thighs and legs and saw his skin was now completely browned and tanned now. His legs were thick and bulging, and so was the rest of his body. A wave of emotions came feelings rolled over his brain, and Miguel stood silently in place as his brain and personality adjusted to match his new physique. Pedro stood still for a moment too, as the twenty-two year old twins realized they could speak English, apanese and Spanish and had a long history of lifting weights and posting work-out videos on TikTok. The transformation progress bar clicked up one last pixel to one-hundred percent, snapping the twins out of their daze. 

“Bro,” Pedro said. “You wanna get a workout in?”

“You know it!” Miguel said, high-fiving his twin brother with a grin. 

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

I am a broken record and I love my boy so now I’m thinking thanks to the new WFA update “If every Bat has their designated Super/Amazon/Flash then who would they have if they had their own Marvel?”

Now I grace y’all with this

Bruce and Billy; Worked the same teams, are basically the leaders/organizers of their families in some capacity or the other.

Dick and Darla; a big brother-esque relationship with Dick wanting to look out for and coach the youngest member of the Marvel family and make sure she’s handling things well and not taking on too much, gets more than he bargained for the first time Darla causes a unicorn stampede and whatever villain Dick was fighting gets injured with a unicorn horn stab wound.

Jason and Pedro; Another big brother situation where Jason coaches Pedro through some self esteem issues, are the “big guys” of their families but both appreciate just chilling with a quiet moment to read a good book or vibe to a good song. Not as much hero-friends as they just get along well

Tim and Freddy; We’re both YJ members and worked on the same larger teams, both are lunatics and encourage the other. Commit 110% to the insanity they get into as heroes

Cass and Mary; Both creatives who get along as civilians and are separate forces of nature in costume, Cass likes having another friend to fly with

Babs and Eugene; World class hacker and information broker with the kid prodigy on government watchlists for his hacking? Yes.

I couldn’t think of who’d work well with Duke cause I don’t know a lot about him still but I think Freddy and/or Darla are the better contenders, especially with what I’ve heard about Duke where they’d probably fit well together with “Doesn’t look like they could do a thing wrong, has committed multiple felonies”

[avastrasposts]

A Baker's Dozen - Seven

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.

Hello!

Javi P got a lot of attention last week, both his visit to the bakery and for the many Pickled Peña fics he starred in. Thank you so much for all the lovely comments! It really means more than you probably reaslise! It's been a rough week and I feel lucky to have found a great community here and to have found so much fun and enjoyment in writing to keep my mind off things.

This week's Pedro boy is dedicated to my lovely friend @secretelephanttattoo who is not only an amazing writer, but also one of the best people I've meet on Tumblr. Love you ❤

Series Master List

Working in a bakery almost every day means you pick up on people’s habits, whether they come into the shop or not. You know the bookshop owner across the streets always arrives ten minutes late on Tuesdays. The bodega owner next to your bakery always picks up his dry cleaning on Fridays and the dry cleaning lady always throws out her trash on Thursday evening. And you know that the cute guy with a dimpled smile always walks past your shop at about eight forty-five every weekday morning. 

He hasn’t always walked past, it started just a few weeks ago, but now it’s routine. You’d first noticed him when he stumbled over something on the sidewalk, smacking his hand against your window to keep his balance, and making you jump. He’d given you an apologetic smile, that’s how you know he’s got a deep dimple on his left cheek. And a really, really, great smile. 

The next morning you noticed him again as he glanced in through the window and smiled, a quick wave as he hurried down the street. And the same thing the next morning and then it was a routine. Around eight forty-five, between customers, you’d keep glancing over at the window until you see him walk past in his well fitted business suit, always a tie flapping in the breeze. He has a routine with those too you notice; a blue tartan pattern on Mondays, slate gray on Tuesdays, navy blue with white dots on Wednesday and the then tartan one again on Thursdays before he ditches the ties on Fridays. You wouldn’t go as far as saying that seeing him is the highlight of your day, but when one day he doesn’t pass by, you notice. And when the rest of the week passes and he doesn’t show up at all, you feel a little bit sad, even though you never even spoke with him. 

Monday morning, eight thirty, and you’re working your way through the morning rush, serving coffee and selling croissants and cinnamon rolls, he suddenly appears again. But this time he’s in front of your counter, holding on to a credit card as he smiles down at you. 

“Hi,” he says, the dimple deep in his cheek, “I thought it was about time I stopped by and said hello properly.” 

“Hi,” you say, a little breathless, he’s even cuter, and handsome, up close, and you’re suddenly very aware of your shiny face, straggly hair and stained apron. 

“I’m Marcus, Marcus Pike,” he says, holding out his hand, “I’m the creepy guy who slams into your window and never comes inside.” 

“Hi Marcus,” you reply, taking his hand, hoping yours isn’t too sweaty and clammy, “I’m the creepy baker who stares at you every morning.” 

He laughs at that, a warm sound that makes your spine tingle as his eyes crinkle at the corners, a wide smile making another dimple pop on his cheek. 

“I guess we need to be less creepy then,” he chuckles, “maybe I can start by buying a coffee like a normal customer?” 

“That sounds like a good start,” you smile back at him, “what would you like?” 

“A cappuccino, please,” he glances up at the coffee menu behind you. 

“Coming right up, anything else?” You motion at the fresh croissants and pain au chocolat piled up on the counter and he looks at them with longing. 

“I would love too, really…but my job, we’ve got this fitness test thing in a few weeks and I’ve got to be in shape for that. That’s why I started walking to work, instead of taking the metro.” 

“Come back when the test is done then, if you pass, it’ll be on the house,” you wink at him over your shoulder as you start preparing his cappuccino. 

“Now there’s the motivation I need,” Marcus laughs, stepping back and glancing over the selection inside the display cases, “But you don’t have my favorite I think.” 

“No? What’s your favorite then?” you ask, “No, wait, don’t tell me, let me guess.” 

“Ok,” Marucs smiles as you hand him the cappuccino in a takeaway cup,” what’s my favorite?” 

You look him up and down, and he grins and takes a step back so that you can see all of him, holding out his arms and giving you a little spin. 

“Hmm…business suit, always a tie, well polished shoes and a job that requires fitness tests…” you hum, enjoying the chance he’s given you at properly taking him in. His suit stretches almost  tight over his broad shoulders, hugging his biceps, and when he holds out his arms, the shirt underneath hangs on for dear life. The suit jacket lifts up over his butt as he turns and you’re given the privilege of eyeing it for the first time. It’s just as cute as the rest of him and you have to mentally chastise yourself for ogling. 

“What’s your guess?” he smiles, coming to a stop in front of you again. 

“Carrot cake, but you wipe off the frosting to stay healthy,” you say and he manages to look both cute, amused and offended at the same time. 

“No way, I would never sacrifice the frosting!” he says, pretending to be insulted as he grins, “but nice try, I really like carrot cake, but it’s not my favorite.” 

“Hmm…maybe-”

“No,” he interrupts you with a wave of his hand, “you get only one guess per day, you can guess again tomorrow.” He gives you a warm smile and as he taps his credit card to pay for the coffee.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, keep guessing,” he says, stepping aside to let the man who’s just stepped into the shop approach the counter. With a final wave he disappears out through the door. 

The next morning he turns up again, as the morning rush dies down, and orders another cappuccino. 

“Canéles,” you say, pointing at him. “Fancy, French, just the thing a guy in a smart, well tailored suit would like.” 

Marcus grins and shakes his head, “I don’t even know what they are, but keep guessing!”

“Give me more clues then!” you protest as he takes a sip of the coffee you just handed him. 

“Hmm…I used to play bass in a band in college,” he says and you raise your eyebrows. He does not look like a bass player, or any kind of band member for that matter. 

“Special brownies?” you ask with a wink and Marcus almost spits out his coffee. 

“Definitely not,” he splutters, chuckling as he wipes his chin, “and you only get one guess per day.” 

“Says who?” you ask, but you already know the answer, Marcus’s grin tells you. 

“I do, my game, my rules,” he gives you a wink and heads for the door, “see you tomorrow!” 

Wednesday he comes in a little bit earlier and hands you a travel mug. 

“This looks brand new,” you say and he nods. 

“Decided I should save on the environment, and your takeaway mugs,” he smiles, leaning on the counter while you start preparing his coffee, “What’s your guess today then?” 

“Cinnabons,” you say, glancing over your shoulder, feeling butterflies erupt in your belly when his face splits into a wide grin. But he shakes his head and you give him a mock scowl. 

“You’re impossible to guess!” 

“Keep trying, gives me a reason to come in every morning,” he replies, “Not that I need a reason though,” he adds, a pink flush suddenly creeping up from beneath his shirt collar as he gives you an uncharacteristically shy smile. 

“I’ll keep trying if you promise to keep coming in,” you smile back at him, you can feel heat creeping up your own cheeks as you hand him his travel mug. And of course his fingers touch yours, just a light brush, but enough for both of you to glance down at your hands. You jump a little as his breath catches and when you look up at him again, his lips are parted and you see the tip of his tongue peak out, just for a split second, before he composes himself. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he smiles, “thanks for the coffee again.” 

Thursday he’s a little bit late, and he hurries through the door with his tie hanging around his neck, untied. 

“Sorry, I worked late last night and slept through my alarm this morning,” he huffs as he reaches the counter. 

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” you smile, “I only sell you your coffee,” you hand him the cappuccino you’ve already made him and he gives you a grateful look, “and let me fix your tie while you caffeinate yourself.” 

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” he sighs and takes a long sip of the coffee as you walk around the counter and stand in front of him. You look up at him, taking hold of each end of his tie, and you suddenly realize you’ve never been this close to him before. There’s always been a counter between the two of you. Now he’s standing barely a foot away and you can smell his aftershave, warm and woody, as you adjust the tie. 

“Over…under…over again…” you mumble to yourself, trying to remember what your dad taught you, “up through the neck and down…there, got it,” you say, gently tightening the tie up against the collar as Marcus lifts his chin up, “but you might want to adjust it.” 

“No, it feels perfect,” he says, giving you a warm smile, “thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” you smile back at him, tilting your head up a little to be able to meet his eyes now that he’s standing so close. You should really move back but he smells good and his eyes are so soft looking, the way he just smiles at you. 

“What’s your guess?” he asks, smoothing his hand down over his tie as you drop yours to the side. 

“What?” you mumble, slightly distracted by how his throat bobs just over the knot in the tie where your hands just where. 

“What’s your guess for my favorite baked thing?” Marcus says again and you blink, catching on. 

“Oh, of course! Uhmm…brownies? But real brownies, gooey in the middle and crunchy corners?” 

“Oh….that is definitely high up on my list, but not my absolute favorite, you’re getting close though,” he grins at you, putting down his coffee mug on the counter. 

“I’ve got to run, but….are you free tomorrow, after work?” he asks, his eyebrows knotting together as he waits for your answer. 

“Yeah, I’m free,” you say, you can’t stop the smile breaking out on your face at the question and he smiles back at you. 

“If you want, I’d really like to have dinner with you, maybe we can both drink something this time?” 

“That sounds nice, I’d like that, Marcus,” you reply, butterflies multiplying in your belly as he gently puts his hand on your arm, “and I’ll definitely figure out what your favorite is by then.” 

“It’s a date then,” he grins, “you supply my favorite and I’ll sort the rest, I’ll come by at closing, ok?” 

You nod and before you know it, he’s leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on your cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.” 

Friday morning Marcus stops by and buys his, by now, regular coffee, “So what’s my favorite?” he asks with a cheeky grin and you stick your tongue out at him. 

“Not telling you,” you smirk at him, “I’ll serve it tonight, I’m pretty sure I’ve got it figured out now.”

“I can’t wait,” he chuckles, winking at you before he grabs his travel mug and hurries off to work. 

Your day drags on and your nerves tingle every time you glance up at the clock at the wall. When the shop quietens down after lunch you prepare what you hope is Marcus’s favorite dessert, putting it in the fridge for baking later. 

Just a few minutes before the clock hits closing time you hear the jingle of the doorbell and look up to see Marcus step through it. He’s changed out of his usual business suit and is wearing a leather jacket over a gray t-shirt and jeans, a bright smile as he gives you a wave. You ring up your final customer, bidding them a nice weekend as Marcus lingers to the side, and then you get a chance to say hello to him as you go to lock the door and flip the sign. 

“Hi Marcus,” you smile at him as he steps forward.

“Hi,” he says, leaning down and brushing his lips against your cheek, leaving the spot tingling and your skin warm. When he straightens up he smiles at you, his eyes soft and crinkling at the corners, “I hope you don’t mind, but I have a slightly unusual plan,” he says, pointing to the duffel bag he’s got hanging from his shoulder, “Dinner’s on me, but in your kitchen.” 

“You’re cooking for me?” you ask and he nods. 

“Seems only fair, you’re making dessert, so I do the rest….well…” he gives a little embarrassed shrug, “with a little bit of help from my favorite restaurant.” 

“Sounds like a nice plan,” you say, putting your hand on his arm and his smile brightens again, “come, let me show you the kitchen then.” 

You lead him past the counter and into the back room, the kitchen clean and ready for tomorrow, except the dessert for Marcus. “What do you need?” you ask, “Help yourself to anything.” 

“First of all, I need you to sit down,” he says with a smile, looking around the kitchen for a chair and spotting only the stool with wheels on, “Not many places to sit in here, huh?” 

“When would I have time to just sit around?,” you laugh, taking your apron off and throwing it in the dirty laundry basket in the back room, “I usually just sit on the counter.” You heave yourself up onto the large workbench as Marcus starts unpacking his duffel bag. He’s hung his jacket on the hook by the door and now he’s crouched down, digging through the content at his feet. The gray t-shirt hugs his shoulders, stretching tight over his back and riding up, exposing a strip of bare skin just above his jeans. It’s so far from the man in the well fitted business suits you’ve been seeing every morning for the past few weeks, a much more relaxed Marcus. 

“Do you wear the suits every day because your job requires you too?” you ask, taking the opportunity to stretch your tired back as you get settled on the counter, baking all day takes a toll on your body. 

“Yeah, I don’t mind them but I prefer the days when I don’t have to wear them,” he answers, standing up and placing a stack of boxes next to you on the counter. “No peeking,” he says in a stern voice, smirking at you and you hold up your hands. 

“I’m not touching anything,” you reply, “But I never asked what you work with?” 

“I work at the FBI, with art theft,” he says and you widen your eyes. 

“Don’t tell me you’re an FBI agent?”

“Yeah,” he furrows his brow as he looks over at you, “do you..is- is that a problem?” 

“No, no, not at all, I’ve just never met an FBI agent. It makes being a baker seem very tame is all.” 

“Maybe tame is good sometimes,” he chuckles and looks around the kitchen and his brow furrows again, “Hhmm…hang on, I’ll be right back,” he says, grabbing the bag and going out into the shop again, “No peeking!”. 

“What are you doing?” you call out to him as you hear tables and chairs being moved around. 

“Nothing, just setting things up, just wait there,” he calls back and a few minutes later he comes back to the kitchen. 

“Now, let’s get dinner ready,” he smiles, “Plates and a small saucepan?” 

You direct him to them and soon he’s arranging food on two smaller plates. 

“Miss,” he says, winking at you and holding out his arm, “Let me show you to your table.” 

“How nice, please lead the way,” you smile at him and slip off the counter, taking his arm. He brings you out into the café part of the bakery and leads you to one of the small round tables by the window. He’s put a white table cloth on it and set two candles in the middle, another few candles arranged around the shop. The sun is setting outside and in the dim light of the shop the candles spread a golden glow, giving it an atmosphere you’ve never seen before. 

“Marcus…this is lovely, I’ve never had my shop look so nice before,” you say, sitting down as he pulls out the chair for you, “It’s so…romantic,” you let it slip out without thinking but Marcus puffs up a little and beams down at you.  

“I’m glad you like it, I really like your shop,” he smiles, “and I really like the shop owner, I wanted to make it special for you.”  

“You might be my very favorite customer, Marcus,” you smile back up at him, your cheeks heating up and he grins. 

“First course is coming right up,” he says with a smile and disappears into the kitchen. 

“You should give food walking tours of the city,” you joke as Marcus smiles at you from across the table. “I’m so full but I still want to go and eat at all your favorite places right now.” 

“I’d take them here first,” he says, “and make sure everyone knows where the best bakery in town is, but…” he leans forwards and grins at you, “Speaking of baking, I want to know if you’ve guessed my favorite dessert yet.” 

You give him a soft laugh and mimic his movement, leaning forward to meet him across the table, “I think I might have, I just need to go and turn on the oven and then they’ll be ready in a few minutes. But I just realized, you never said what my reward would be for guessing correctly.” 

Marcus hums, tapping his long fingers on his chin as he looks at you, a mischievous smile making the corner of his mouth curl up. 

“I don’t think we agreed on anything, but if you go turn on the oven and I’ll come up with something good,” he says, his smile widening, making your skin heat up as his eyes seem to suggest something enticing. 

Thank god for your industrial oven, it turns on and heats up to the right temperature in no time. While you pull out the dessert plates and take the ice cream out to soften, it hums to life and pings. The dessert goes in and you set a timer and go back out to Marcus, sitting down at the table again. 

“It just needs a few minutes,” you tell him, “did you come up with a reward?” 

“Yeah, I did, but what if you guess wrong?” he asks, “I need a reward too.” 

“If I’m wrong…” you say, thinking out loud, “you tell me your favorite, and no matter what it is, I’ll make it for you.” 

“That’s a nice idea,” Marcus smiles, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, the t-shirt stretching tight over his biceps, you swear you can hear a seam ripping behind him, “but I like my idea better.” 

“What’s your idea then?” you ask, giving him a suspicious look, he’s got a very happy grin as he looks at you. 

“If you guess wrong, I can take you on a second date,” he says and you laugh, that’s probably the easiest reward he could’ve asked for and you see the corners of his eyes crinkle as he sees your laughter.

“Hardly a difficult reward, Marcus,” you smile at him and he gives you a warm smile back, “But what if I guess right, what’s my reward then?” 

“If you guess right, you get to take me on a second date,” he grins and you feel little happy bubbles in your chest as his soft eyes stay locked with yours, you can’t help but smile widely back at him. 

“Deal, Marcus,” you say, holding out your hand to him. He leans forward and takes it, his large hand enveloping yours, thick fingers gently closing around yours as you both shake on it. 

“I can smell chocolate,” he grins, glancing at the kitchen, “I think you’re on the right track.” 

“I know you, Marcus,” you laugh, “all serious business suits on the outside, but a wild child on the inside, bass player and all.” 

“Hardly the definition of a ‘wild child’,” Marcus chuckles, “now, if I’d been lead singer or lead guitar, then maybe.” 

“Well, the dessert is only a little bit of a wild child, the defining factor is that at its heart, it’s very romantic, just like you.” 

Marcus gives you a slightly embarrassed smile, “It’s that obvious, huh?” 

“That you’re a romantic? Of course, but I like it,” you smile softly back at him, turning off the timer that’s just gone off, “Moment of truth. Did I guess right or not?” 

“Doesn’t matter, I’m getting a second date either way,” he says, winking at you as you stand up and head to the kitchen. 

Pulling them out of the oven you quickly plate the dessert and scoop up the vanilla ice cream, finishing with a light dusting of cocoa. Your hip bumps open the door to the shop and Marcus watches you eagerly as you bring the plates over and set them down on the table. 

“If this is what I think it is, you’ve got yourself a second date,” he jokes and grins up at you. 

“That’s not helpful, Marcus,” you laugh, “either way, you’ve got yourself a second date.” 

“I know, that’s the beauty of this deal,” he chuckles, picking up his dessert spoon and looking at you expectantly, “Can I guess?” 

“Sure, go ahead,” you smile and he pokes the dessert lightly. 

“Chocolate fondant?” he asks, looking up at you, raising his eyebrows, before he digs the spoon in and cuts it open. The soft chocolate cake exterior gives way to a thick river of chocolate that pours out of the interior of the little cake. Marcus giggles and scoops up a bite of both cake and sauce and puts the spoon in his mouth, humming at the flavor and closing his eyes. You watch with pride as he tips his head back and moans, the spoon still in his mouth as he sucks it clean. 

“How did you know?” he asks, a bright smile on his face when he’s finally done with his first bite. 

You shrug and smile back at him, “You’re not a health freak, you didn’t recognise the more complicated French pastry, you like gooey brownies and you’re a romantic. Chocolate fondant seemed like the obvious choice. Decadent, sweet and just the right amount of fancy,” you grin at him. 

You take a spoonful from your own fondant and put it in your mouth, watching the chocolate flow out from the inside, just the right amount of undercooked to keep the inside flowing and warm. The chocolate flavor spreads across your tongue, paired with a hint of vanilla and salt, rich and warm and you let an involuntary moan escape. When you glance up you don’t miss the dark look Marcus gives you, his eyes fixed on your mouth as he takes another spoonful. 

“You really guessed right, I love chocolate fondant, but I’ve never had one this good before,” he says, humming around the big piece in his mouth. “How come you don’t have them in the shop? Actually, don’t have them in the shop, I’d buy them all every week.” 

You giggle at his blissed out face as he takes another big bite, dropping his head into the palm of his hand as he sucks the spoon clean, “It’s like hot chocolate, brownie and chocolate sauce all in one fluffy soft shell of cake.” 

“I’m glad I guessed right, seeing your happy face makes me happy,” you smile at him and the tips of his ears go a pink in the dim light as he clears his throat and chuckles. 

“Coming to your bakery makes me happy,” he smiles, scraping the last bit of fondant from the plate while he looks up at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners and it’s your time to feel the heat rise in your face, his grin widens as he sees you shift awkwardly in your chair and glance at him with a smile.  

“Really, getting my morning coffee has become the highlight of my day,” Marcus says, “How sad isn’t that?” 

“Not sad, you coming into the bakery every morning has been the highlight of my day,” you say, finishing off the fondant and putting the spoon down while Marcus watches you with a smile. He suddenly pushes his chair back and stands up, holding his hand out to you. 

“Dance with me,” he says, the warmth of his hand spreading across your palm and down your arm as he pulls you to your feet. 

“There’s no music, Marcus,” you laugh but he just grins and spins you around before catching you in his arms, one around your waist, the other still holding on to your hand as you put your own hand on his shoulder. 

“Who cares about the music,” he says, gently swaying you back and forth while he gives you a soft smile, “it was just a clever ruse to get to hold you.” His hand on the small of your back is lightly stroking the fabric of your shirt and you’re very close to him, pressed up against his chest as he holds you near, moving slowly in a circle. You can smell his aftershave, mixed in with the dark chocolate of the dessert and without thinking, your hand slips into the soft looking curls at the back of his neck. Marcus tilts his head as your fingers play with the silky strands, letting go of your hand and moving it slowly to cup your face, his thumb stroking the soft skin on your cheek as he seems to inhale slightly and dip his head to yours.  

His lips are just as soft as you’ve imagined them, warm, gentle, as he parts them and tastes you. His steady hand holds you close, the curve of his strong nose brushing up against your cheek as he angles his head to better kiss you. You feel your fingers gripping his hair, willing him to press you even closer to him. All of his warm, solid body is pressed up against yours, his hand at the small of your back sliding up to hold you closer to him, your own hand gripping his shoulder, steadying yourself as you feel like melting into his touch.  

He’s still swaying the two of you gently, your lips moving slowly together, tasting the chocolate on each other's tongues. Heat is creeping through your body, wrapping around you, as you feel him tighten his hold on you, his breath skating over your lips as he exhales, a quiet groan leaving his throat. 

“You taste so sweet, even sweeter than the dessert,” he mumbles, his mouth close to yours, “I never want to stop kissing you.” 

You stand on your tiptoes to reach more of him, your hand around his neck, and part your lips for him, letting his tongue lick into your mouth with more fervor. He also tastes sweet and the way he pulls you closer as you steady yourself against his chest makes you moan under his increasingly heated kisses. He’s not swaying you anymore, instead he lets you melt into his body, his arm holding you up, as he bends his head, another groan slipping from him as he feels your tongue slip around his own. 

Marcus’s kisses make you forget the time, where you are, and not until he pulls away with a sigh, do you open your eyes and look up at him. His eyes are dark, filled with lust, and it’s mirrored in the way his body feels against yours, his arousal a clear presence between you. And you can feel your own fill your core with heat, a slow shiver as you touch upon the thought of having him even closer. 

Marcus keeps his eyes locked on you, his warm hand gently stroking your cheek as he seems to take a deep breath, composing himself. Your fingers are still toying with the impossibly soft curls at the back of his neck, letting them slip through your fingers, and you feel like you might drown in his dark brown eyes if he doesn’t release you soon. 

“Is it too soon to ask for a second date tomorrow?” he whispers, his eyes dropping down to your lips again, and then back to your eyes as you shake your head. 

“No, tomorrow sounds like a very good idea,” you mumble, slightly hazy from the way his hands never stop touching you, warming your body and sending shivers to your core. 

“Ok,” he mumbles back, “can I kiss you again?” 

“If you do, we might not get out of here tonight, Marcus,” you smile at him and he chuckles, nodding and pulling back a little. 

“You’re very right, maybe it’s best to save more kisses for tomorrow.” 

“I look forward to them though,” you say, letting your fingers slip from his hair and down over his shoulder, caressing his arm, his wrist, and finally his hand. He takes your hand then, enveloping it in his larger one,  and brings it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it. 

“Tomorrow then,” he smiles. 

Part Eight

@harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3  @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers

[judysxnd]

can we plz plz get more reader and pedro dating?? 😭 i love it so much!

I don't really know if you mean dating in general or going on a date? So I guess I am going to do a going on a date one, since it's a part of dating in general (don't know if it makes sense, but in my head it does).

——————————————————————————

Ever since you started to date Pedro, you've never been on dates so much. In the first two months of dating the number already exceeded the number of fingers. It's a good thing, don't get me wrong. It made you feel so special, loved like you've never been. You always thought it was Pedro's love language, taking you on dates. He always loved spoiling you in every way possible.

Tonight was no exception. But he decided to change things around. Instead of going out, he decided to bring the outside, inside. And by that, he needed the house to himself, so he gently.. yes.. kicked you out for the afternoon. He told you to come back for 7:30pm. You didn't really know what you would do in the meantime, so you wandered in town, buying some nice chocolates to eat in front of a nice movie, and you decided to buy a bottle of wine. Pedro probably took care of that too, but whatever, it won't go to waste either way.

You arrived home for 7:30pm. As you parked, you saw Pedro walk outside the house. He didn't leave you time to get out of the car, opening the door for you. He was wearing a nice black suit.

"Hey baby" you had a big smile. "Looking handsome" you said adjusting his jacket. He gave you a quick kiss on the lips before handing you what looked like a blindfold. "You're going to blindfold me in my own house?" you both chuckled

"I need you to get to the bathroom without seeing what I prepared"

"Should have given me the outfit before I left"

"I- well no comment" you laughed. He put the blindfold on you. You grabbed his arm and let him guide you inside the house. Once you entered, you were met with different smells. You could smell the dinner getting ready in the kitchen, you could smell the burning of candles, some sweet vanilla, your favourite scent. "we're taking the stairs" Pedro warned you. You lifted your foot, but still almost fell.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea Pedro" you joked

"I'll take care of that" was all you heard before Pedro took you in his arms, climbing the stairs, walking into your bedroom, finishing in the bathroom. He put you down slowly and nicely. "I've prepared a nice outfit for you, I'll let you get dressed, and once you're done, put the blindfold back and call me okay?" He said.

"Yes sir" you joked. You heard Pedro laugh a little. He kissed your cheek before leaving you alone in the bathroom. Once you heard the door closing, you removed the blindfold. You looked around still a little confused, finding the mirror and looking at yourself. You smiled as you shook your head, still not realising what was happening. He always managed to surprise you. After 2 years in the relationships, after hundreds of dates, he was still here surprising you.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, something sparkly caught your attention. You looked at it through the glass, seeing something dark green, sparkling. You turned around walked to the drawers. You grabbed the clothes, naturally unfolding as you took a step back. It was a very nice sparkly dark green dress. Once again you were impressed. He even bought you a dress. You quickly put it on, looking at the mirror.

Damn. He really knew you, your taste, your body, your size. The dress fitted perfectly, and it was absolutely magnificent on you. There were a pair of heels next to the dress, so you wore them. Those were from your wardrobe, you recognised them. You still laughed at the view, he did say, quite a lot, that they were his favourite pair of heels. You rapidly brushed you hair too, letting them fall on your bare shoulders. You didn't have anything left to do, so you put the blindfold back, and called Pedro.

"Woah" You heard him say as soon as the door opened.

"Right choice" you said, making a pose. You smiled.

"Agreed" you felt his hands on your arms. "Now let's have dinner darling"

"Yes, because I'm starving"

"I'm going to carry you again" Pedro hold you once again, carrying you down the stairs. Barely there, he put you down, removing the blindfold. Once away, you finally opened your eyes. The entire house was lit up by candles. There were rose petals on the floor and now there was music in the background.

"Woah, Pedro!" You looked around, amazed. "You didn't have to do all of this, you must have been working non stop to do this"

"It's all worth it for my princesa" he said looking at you. You looked at him with complete heart eyes.

"I love you so much" You put your hands on both side of his face.

"I love you more" You kissed passionately. After a few, you both pulled away. "Shall we?" he asked you, asking for you hand to guide you to the kitchen. You held his hand, nodding and smiling.

You entered the kitchen to find the dinner table lit up with candles two, with nice flowers and decorations. Pedro really put his soul into it and it showed. It was beautiful.

"You're more talented than me for decorating the table, so unfair" you joked as he pulled the chair for you.

"I had help" he admitted

"You did?" you were surprised

"You think I suddenly know how to decorate a table and cook?" he laughed as he opened a bottle of wine.

"I don't know, maybe!" you laughed too. "By the way I bought chocolate and wine too, but I left it in the car"

"We'll grab it later"

Pedro served you the nicest and tastiest dinner. Even if he had help or hired someone to cook or even ordered something, it didn't matter. He made everything for you, for the both of you to have a nice dinner date at home. You don't always need to leave the house to have a perfect date, and tonight was the proof. You had fun, talking about random things, reminiscing about some other dates, thinking about the next ones.

[intoanotherworld23]

His Behind The Camera

Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT NSFW 18+ ONLY. This series is basically going to be all smut and sex, since it’s going to be about porn so you have been warned. Each chapter will be marked though with warnings

Length: 3695 words

Summary: It’s a life that you never thought you’d have, but you’re desperate and you need the money. That’s how you get into the adult film industry, and your first movie is with the devastatingly handsome Joel Miller

Check out my other Pedro Pascal works

Taking a deep breath as you tried to control your heart rate. Your palms overly sweaty, and your fingers constantly twitching. Heart racing a million beats per second.Right now was not the time to have an anxiety attack though.

Looking in the mirror at your over the top makeup, and extra curly hair. The silk robe covering your body did nothing to stop the chills running up and down your body.

It was too late to back out now, and you really needed this money. Besides this wouldn’t be so bad you’d get to have sex with attractive people, and get paid for it. A lot better than working at an stuffy office with a fat bald man hitting on you as a boss.

They let you take a shot of hard liquor just to calm your nerves. They wanted this movie to be good, and wanted all the ratings. Not wanting to ruin it by shaking like a leaf the whole time.

"They’re ready for you Y/N." Someone with a headset popped their head in real quick giving you a nod.

"Thanks." Mumbling as you turned back around.

The silence in the room was making things even worse. Like all you could hear were your thoughts , and it wasn't making things better.

Standing up as you pinched the ends of the sleeves with your fingers. Walking towards where all the camera crew was standing around. Looking at the staged room that was all white. White bed. White sheets. White walls. Even white carpet.

It was almost blinding as you anxiously waited for your co star to walk onto set. All you know his name is Joel Miller, and all the women even some men loved him. You've never done anything like this, and you didn't want to disappoint.

"Alright there's our man." The director clapped his hands as you saw Joel walking towards you. "You all set?"

"Sure thing." He smiled as he disrobed himself making you drool.

This man was more beautiful then what you thought. His body was muscular and fit, and you could see his lower tummy pouch. He looked incredible. Looking at his face all you wanted to do was place your mouth on his plump ones.

He was a little older than you expected, but that didn’t change anything. Looking at him you could see the gray hairs poking out from the top of his head. His hair was perfectly ruffled though like he just got done brushing his fingers through it. For someone who was older he looked damn good.

Feeling your panties becoming a little wet at just the sight of him. This man was literally sex on two legs. You could probably cum at just the sound of his voice. Just him being in your presence was enough to intimidate you.

Now you were even more nervous having a man like this in front of you. Your mouth probably hanging wide open like an idiot as you stared at him.

"Joel you've met Y/N." The director nodded towards you making Joel turn his attention at you.

Smiling widely once he took one look at you. It made you feel a little more confident seeing he was just as affected by your presence as you were his.

"Not yet but I'm glad I get someone absolutely damn gorgeous to work with." He winked your cheeks heating up. "First time?"

"That obvious huh?" Lightly chuckling making him smile even bigger.

"Nah you'll do just fine." He waved his hand in a swift motion. "First time is always the hardest."

"How long have you been doing this?" You asked timidly. "Porn I mean."

"Ah well I've been doing this for I would say six years now." Placing both hands on his hips as he looked at you. "But I've been fucking since I was sixteen."

He's probably slept with some of the worlds most beautiful and sexy women, and yet they stick him with you. You didn't feel like you could ever compete with any of those women. Now you were going to have to step up your game.

"I've heard a lot of good things about you." Almost smacking yourself in the face for that stupid line. "I just mean."

"No it's all good."

He chuckled at how shy you became. Thinking to himself how fun this was going to be, and the wild thoughts of turning you into a sex crazed animal.

"I don't watch porn." That was clearly a lie. His eyebrows scrunched down.

"No way you don't watch porn." He said in disbelief. "I mean everyone watches at least one porn movie in their life."

"Nope not me." Shaking your head trying to maintain your confidence. "I prefer the real thing."

"That's my girl." Your body melting when he said that, but you knew you would never become his girl.

Porn wasn't something you ever saw yourself doing. You enjoyed sex a lot, but never thought you would be getting paid to do it. Nobody was paying well, and this was pretty much your only option.

Nobody knew about this only your best friend, and she told you this was a bad idea. You told yourself you would only do a couple movies, and that would be it. Judging by who you would be working with it seems that wouldn't be the case.

This wasn't something that you were going to get into. Get the money and get the hell out of there. You were surprised they even considered someone like you. No auditions or anything. They took one look at you, and asked how soon could you start.

"You ready Y/N?"

A voice broke you from your thoughts. Turning to the set to see everyone staring at you. There was a lot more people coming into the room and walking by then you thought. Gulping so loud that everyone could probably hear it.

"Oh yeah sorry." Squealing sheepishly as you jogged to everyone.

"Alright if you'll just remove your robe we can get started." Hearing that had your heart racing, and your stomach churning at the thought of getting naked in front of everyone.

The scenario was that you were at home sleeping the bed, and your husband came home early. Only to see you laying there in your bra and panties, and then he would have sex with you. It was stupid and cliche, but this was also your first movie.

Slowly pulling the thin material off your body and kicking it to the side. Goosebumps appeared on your skin. Expecting everyone to be looking at your body and judging.

The thing is nobody was looking at you. They were so focused on doing their parts they weren't even staring. They were used to naked bodies walking around the set all the time. You could feel a pair of eyes staring at you though.

Looking straight ahead you saw Joel devouring you with his eyes. They were blown full of lust and wide with dark desires. Your skin felt tingly seeing him look at you like that. No man has ever looked at you the way Joel was right now.

Maybe you were reading too much into it, but he seemed way to excited to be doing this with you. Almost like this was something he had been praying for, and he was going to get what he wanted.

"You can get into bed and then we’ll begin." People shuffled around getting into position.

You stayed their frozen like your feet were stuck, and you couldn't move. This was what stage fright must feel like. Trying to hype yourself up to just get it over with, and telling yourself it wasn't going to be that bad.

This was actually happening and there was no turning back now. You just had to suck it up, and tell yourself the money was going to be worth it. It would be all over soon.

"God I can't wait to feel how tight you are." A deep voice growled in your ear.

Turning around to see Joel walk by with a huge grin on his face. He just wanted to help get you more in the mood, and think of things to make you less nervous. He remembered his first time and how incredibly nervous he was.

Your thighs tempted to squeeze shut so you could now relieve the pressure between your legs. This man got you all hot and heavy, and he hasn't even touched you yet. Just thinking of the things he could do in bed.

Laying on top of the bed they helped get you into the perfect position. Trying to find the right place to put your hands, and where to move your legs. Moving some of your hair up front to make it look more realistic.

Hearing the quiet chatter of the crew as they got everything finalized. Closing your eyes as you felt a bright light shine down on the set making you jump slightly.

This was it this was go time. Millions of people were going to see you at your most vulnerable. Millions of people were going to see parts of you even your own boyfriends didn't get to see.

"And action."

——————————————

"Oh fuck yes." Moaning as you arched your back on top of Joel. His hands on your hips. "Right there."

"Feel good baby?" Joel mumbled as his hands reached up to grab your bouncing breasts. Pinching your nipples between his fingers.

"Yes so good." Crying out as your nails raked down his chest leaving marks.

Leaning his body forward so his mouth could attach to your nipple. Sucking and biting on the hard nub making you kiss the top of his head as your fingers raked through the sides of his hair.

His mouth moving from one breast to the other groaning to himself. Suckling on your nipples like they were candy, and he was savoring the taste. Leaving a string of saliva as he leaned back down. Feeling a cold breeze hit your nipples making a shiver run up your spine.

Looking briefly over to see a camera man focusing on where his cock as disappearing inside you. Trying not to suddenly get shy knowing he was just right there looking at your most intimate parts.

"Focus on me baby." Whispering softy into ear turning your attention back to him seeing you start to panic with the camera right there. "Focus on my cock."

His hips meeting your thrusts digging his cock deeper inside of you. Pussy clenching around his cock as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. He knew you were getting closer to judging by the expression on your face and body language.

"So fuckin tight for me baby." Growling as he looked to where you two were connected. "Fuck this pussy so good."

Moaning at his words as you focused on your own pleasure. Forehead sweating the heat that was enveloping the both of you. Cheeks clapping against his upper thighs, and pussy making squishy sounds from how wet you were.

Looking down at him you watched as the veins in his neck were popping out. His neck and chest were turning a slight shade of red, and he kept licking his lips as he looked at you.

"Gonna fuck you until you can't walk." Snarling between his teeth as his hands smacked your ass making you squeal. "Pussy is all mine."

Rotating your hips in figure eights making his mouth hang open. His head thrown back in utter ecstasy as he tried to control his breathing. Bending his knees as he drilled up inside of you making you scream.

"Shit shit shit." Hands gripping his wrists as he kept his rough movements at a steady pace.

"Such a good girl for me baby." Hands placed on your back pushing your chest on top of his. "Taking my cock so well."

Turning your head to side as he placed his lips on your neck sucking on your skin. Mouth wide open as little whimpers slipped past your lips. Your hands on either side of head as you would drop your hips down on his cock.

"Feels so fucking good Joel." Crying out as you felt him thrusting his hips up at an all new angle.

Whispering absolute filth in your ear as your legs were starting to get sore. Feeling you slow down his hands gripped your ass cheeks squeezing them as he used them as leverage to go harder slamming you down on his cock.

His pelvis was rubbing up against your clit making you see stars. Your senses were becoming overwhelmed, and you were so close you could taste it.

"Squeeze that tight little pussy for me." Smirking against your skin as his hands moved up and down your body.

Taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you kept whining in euphoria. You've had amazing sex before, but this felt so much different and better. It seemed too like he was enjoying this more than you.

Hands smacking your ass encouraging you to fully let go of yourself. Surely whenever you two were done your body would be covered in marks and small bruises.

Closing your eyes as your pussy clenched around his cock hard making him groan. His cock twitching inside of you letting you know he was close to orgasm.

"Stand up for me baby." He stopped he movements indicating for you to get up. "Lay on your back.

You knew exactly what he was wanting to do. Without wasting another second you stood up on wobbly legs, and rolled onto your back. Watching as he pumped his cock fast while looking up and down your body.

The noises coming out of his mouth were almost animalistic. He was getting close and he was wanting to cum all over your mouth. Preparing for his load you opened your mouth with your tongue hanging out. Grabbing your breasts to entice him even more.

That seemed to do the trick as you looked down to see cum leaking out of his tip. His thick veins popping up along his length. Sweat forming on his brows, and his chest was heaving up and down.

"Oh fuck yeah baby gonna cum all over that perfect face." Growling as he pumped himself even harder one hand on his hip.

Closing your eyes as you felt drops of cum hit your mouth and around your mouth. Moaning as best you could as he jacked himself off until every last bit of him was empty. Licking your lips as you swallowed his load tasting the saltiness.

"And cut." The directors voice snapped you from your euphoric state.

“Good job guys.”

Looking over you saw all the camera crew putting there stuff down. Breathing heavily as were slowly coming down from your high. It hitting you that you just made your first adult film. Laying there frozen unsure what to do.

"You were fucking amazing." Joel complimented you with a smile as he stood up his limp cock just hanging there.

Someone came over and handed him a bottle of water along with a towel. Watching as a took a large swig gulping as he did. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, and you just watched like a creep.

"We'll definitely have to do this again." He joked making you giggle.

"Yeah absolutely that was just wow." Exclaiming as you licked your lips but your mouth was extremely dry.

"Never had a woman ride me like that." He shook his head in disbelief as he looked your body up and down again.

"Really?" A part of you didn't believe him thinking he was just being nice.

"Fuckin A." Sitting up as you grabbed the sheets covering yourself not liking being so exposed. "I almost came like three times."

"You we're pretty good too." You joshed making him chuckle.

"Sure you've never done an adult film before?" He quirked his eyebrows at you in question.

"Yeah I'm pretty sure." You nodded your head giggling. "Unless someone secretly recorded me and took all the money."

"If you were my girl I would sure as hell be recording me tearing that pussy up." He groaned and he took another drink of water before walking away.

Sitting there stunned watching as he grabbed a robe, and went into his dressing room. Exhaling before you stood up awkwardly walking across the set to your dressing room. Ignoring the gazes being thrown your way.

Shutting the door behind you looking in the mirror at your naked body. Looking at all the marks he left on your hips and backside. Almost dying inside when you saw you still had his cum around your mouth.

Grabbing a towel wiping the white substance off your mouth. Feeling slightly embarrassed that you talked to him with his load on your face still. Although he was probably used to stuff like that. It didn't seem things like that bothered him at all.

Thinking about his words from earlier saying how if you were his girl. Wondering what it would be like to be his girl. He was probably a very affectionate and hands on type of boyfriend. He probably had an insatiable appetite when it came to sex.

"Y/N?" You heard on the other side of your door along with a light knock.

"Just a minute." You responded as you grabbed a robe and quickly placed it over yourself. "Alright come in."

One of the directors popped their head in making you internally groan. They probably were going to tell you they didn't want you to do anymore films with them. Your confidence was suddenly declining waiting to hear.

"You were fantastic out there." He complimented you as he walked into the room. "I mean absolutely superb."

"Thank you." Smiling from ear to ear hearing such positive feedback.

"In fact you were so good Joel wants to do another film with you." Putting both his thumbs up.

"Wow I mean yeah I would be more than happy to." Nodding your head so fast it might fall off.

"Great well give him the good news and have the schedule up by tomorrow." He gave a huge smile before he walked out the room.

Sitting down in the chair you couldn't help but feel giddy now. One of the most desired men in this world wanted to do another film with you. He liked doing it with you so much he immediately told them he had to do another take.

It all felt like a dream in this moment. Pinching yourself thinking none of this was real. Feeling like you were on top, and you were indestructible. You felt so powerful that you could take on the world.

Your thoughts interrupted again as a knock came from the door. Straightening yourself out hoping it was Joel on the other side. Wiping your teeth and clearing your throat before swinging the door open.

"Hi there." To your surprise it wasn't Joel, but standing on the other side was a extremely fit, tall bald man. He was showing off his pearly white teeth.

This man was like a hunk of meaty goodness standing in front of you. A little bit of drool escaped your lips as you stared at the handsome figure.

"Hi." You squeaked out feeling your cheeks go up in flames at his gaze. "I'm Y/N."

"Nice to meet you Y/N the names Johnny Sins." As soon as you heard that name it sounded so familiar. Then you realized he was one of americas most famous porn stars besides Joel.

"The Johnny Sins?" Voice cracking as you looked at him in disbelief.

"You've got it babe." He winked making you smile awkwardly looking towards the ground. "Nice to meet a fan."

"I mean we'll everyone knows who you are." Trying to cover up with a cough at basically admitting you've watched his films.

"I just wanted to say nice work out there." Nodding his head towards the set making your eyes go wide.

"You watched me?" Spitting out making him chuckle.

"Yeah I did and I gotta say I'm really impressed." Crossing his arms across his chest and he stood a little closer. "Never seen a woman move like you do."

"Oh well you know when you've got talent you can't let them go to waste." Your words making his grin at you.

"Thank god you didn't let them go to waste." He shook his head as he looked your body up and down. Stopping at your chest looking down to see your breasts were exposed.

"Yeah thank god." Swiftly covering up your chest making him smirk.

Feeling yourself becoming nervous under his intense stare. He looked like at any moment he was ready to pounce on top of you. His smiled was wicked and devilish like he had something up his sleeve.

The tension was so thick between you two you could cut it with a knife. The look he had in his eyes was one of primal desire. It was almost nerve wracking how much sensuality the man oozed.

Sure it was nothing like what you felt with Joel, but still this man was something else. Joel was way better looking in your opinion, and you quite honestly didn't want to do another film with anyone else but him.

"Well it was nice meeting you." Lifting his hand up to shake you placed your hand in his.

"You as well." Smiling politely but not before he pulled your body slightly towards his making you gasp.

"God I can't wait to do a film with you." He groaned as he leaned forward and kissed right below your ear making your breath shudder.

Turning around and shutting the door behind him. Leaning up against the door holding yourself up. Taking a huge deep breath in and out. Putting a hand over your chest as you felt your heart racing again.

Looking back in the mirror at yourself your makeup smeared, and your hair wild. It was an image that you were probably gonna have to get used to seeing.

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 4

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Gif by:@sh214

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

*! New warnings will be listed first !*

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: ~2.3K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

Hi there! To those of you who have read and are still with me, THANK YOU! I love you all. I'm sorry that my chapters are taking longer and longer. Work has been a bit more hectic lately and I also just had some serious writer's block with this chapter. That being said, it feels a little rough and I apologize if its awful lol. But either way, thanks for hanging in there with me and please let me know what you think! Your comments make me happy!

__________

You groaned, stepping out of bed and drifting towards the bathroom. Your face was sticky and your eyes stung from crying late into the night. It was silly, naive, and frankly stupid… but sometimes you can't control how hard emotions hit. Seeing that Pedro didn't actually watch your video was a let down - to put it mildly. Obviously he's a popular guy. A star. He has better things to do.

You should be grateful he even responded to your Instagram message before. Even though it hurts, surely he has more interesting things to do than message someone like you. Just because you wrote a song and he said he liked it doesn't mean he owes you anything more.

So after a fitful night's sleep, you were utterly exhausted; physically, mentally, and emotionally. Luckily, it was still your weekend and you could rest today. 

More like spend the day wallowing in your self pity… you think, disdainfully at yourself.

Looking in the mirror, you notice your puffy eyes. There's some new acne, and a mop of frizzy hair on your head. After using the toilet, you step on your bathroom scale before your shower; a morning routine you started during years of dieting. Another 3 pounds. Up again?!

You look in the mirror, pinching your stomach with a sigh. I guess I shouldn't have had those cookies yesterday…

The food guilt creeps up as you think of the goodies you've eaten recently. Cookies yesterday, fast food the day before. You were bitter that you weren't one of those people that could just magically eat whatever they wanted without gaining an ounce. 

But you aren't, and you should know better. 

Frustrated with your appearance, you begin your usual internal debate about how to fix it.

Maybe I should go back on the diet…

But the diet caused you so many problems. Remember the stomach issues? The hunger? The lack of joy? Binge eating on cheat days until you were sick?

But! I lost so much weight!

Yeah, until you started gaining weight…

Maybe I didn't cut enough. People said I looked so good. I was *almost* skinny.

Maybe people would like me more if I was skinny… Maybe Pedro would like me if I were skinny. There's no way he would be with me looking like this.

These were the debates that plagued you for months… years… a lifetime.

You showered, tears beginning to flow again as you tried to push out the thoughts. He was probably just busy, but either way you knew you didn't have a chance. 

Your friends were right. You were an obsessed fan. It was… concerning, as they said. They pitied you when you felt sad about your feelings. Just find someone you actually have a chance with, they pushed. Someone real.

But... he did message you. Maybe he didn't even know you had an interview yesterday? Maybe he watched it later. You were being utterly ridiculous. It didn't matter anyway.

But what you didn't know was that Pedro felt just as disappointed. He wanted to be the one on your list. The one you loved. He went to bed just as mopey as you did and woke up just the same.

_____

Having washed away your bad feelings as best as you could, you gave Skipper a kiss on his little forehead and made some coffee while scrolling Instagram. You were nervous to see what people had to say about your interview, but you had to face the music eventually.

As you could have predicted, people were running through the potential suspects (or prospects, that is) who have brown curly hair and brown eyes. Some supported you and loved your interview. Others criticized you for being too chicken to show yourself. 

You weren't used to this level of attention, and you really weren't sure you enjoyed it. But you were grateful to have your two lives kept separate, your true persona still shaded in privacy.

What you did not predict, was a notification popping up from Pedro, interrupting your scrolling. Forgetting to breathe, you immediately clicked on it. If the message were food from the oven, you would've burnt your hand the way you grabbed it so fast. 

Perhaps I should've been a little more chill about opening this so quickly... Oh well.

Pedro Pascal messaged you: "Hey! I watched your interview yesterday. You did fantastic. I know fame is new to you and you're nervous, but you're a natural."

Your heart swelled. He did watch it!! He must have just been busy during the live stream.

You replied: "Pedro! You watched it!?! Thank you so much. That really means a lot to me."

Pedro read your message immediately, but instead of sharing in your level of excitement, he was hit with a wave of confusion instead. She must just be trying to not hurt my feelings. She already knows I watched it.. unless she didn't even notice my name. Or she didn't care enough to look for it…?

He decided to play along with it anyway. "Absolutely, I did. I've had it marked on my calendar since the day it was announced a couple days ago and watched it as it was streamed live."

His response took you by surprise, and then made you angry. If he really watched it, he would know that they gave you a list of the people who watched it live. Why was he lying to you about it?

You started to plan out your response, maybe even send an accusatory comeback, but then you thought about it again.

Why would he lie about it? What would he gain by lying? He messaged you.

With this in mind, you instead chose to take a different approach. One better designed for fishing. One you had to be very careful about, so as not to reveal the fact that you looked for his name.

"Wait!? You watched it live? I didn't see you on the list. You're one of the few people I've spoken to who actually seem genuinely friendly and interested in having a conversation with me. I had sort of hoped you were listening."

There. That doesn't sound too revealing, right? Totally friendly…

Pedro opened your message and was met with both confusion, and something else he wasn't expecting. Hope. Did you look for his name??

Still, he wanted to address the confusion. "You didn't see me on the list? That's odd.. but I'm sure there were a lot of names to scan through. Maybe my name was just buried in that list."

You knew it wasn't buried. He was the only name you looked for. The only name you cared about seeing on that list, not that you'd admit that to him right now. But you also didn't want him to feel that insignificant either.

"There were a lot of names, I'll give you that. But I swear you weren't there. Were you logged into your account? Maybe your Internet crashed, or you missed part of it?"

Instantly he remembered the ten or so minutes that Oscar interrupted him. 

Oscar!

"Oh shit! That's it. Oscar barged into my house while I was watching it and I slammed my laptop closed."

"Oscar… Isaac? Wait, why did you slam your laptop closed?"

"Yeah, that's the one. And… I don't know. He just surprised me, I guess. It wasn't a planned visit."

Slamming your laptop closed is an odd reaction to your friend visiting, but okay, you thought.

"So you closed your laptop, and missed a few minutes. And that must have been the moment they pulled the list of viewers."

Pedro replied. "It must have. But I was there, more than happy to listen to what you had to say"

If my name had been on the list, would her answer have been different? When asked whether the man she loved was on the list and she said no, would my name have changed anything? Pedro wanted to ask you these questions. But he couldn't. Not only was he scared, but he also didn't want it to come off as some douchey comment that made you uncomfortable. He wanted to get to know you better, even if just as a friend, and he wouldn't let a silly little crush ruin that.

You sent a response that could be deemed as friendly or neutral, still cautious. "Thank you Pedro. I'm really glad you watched it."

He replied without hesitancy. "Of course. But, I am sorry that your guy wasn't on that list."

He sounds genuine. Not like he's fishing for information like everyone else on the internet. In turn, you decide to be playful with your response. Risky, but still not too revealing. "It's okay. It turns out that list wasn't as accurate as I once thought it was" you typed with a smirk.

"So maybe he was watching after all," Pedro answered.

"Maybe he was."

Pedro soon changed the subject, "I did enjoy hearing about your favorite things, though. You may know this already, but I love movies. Some of the ones you mentioned are a couple of my favorites as well. But as for your favorite books, I haven't read them, but I've been meaning to find a new book to read."

The fact that he was a reader made your heart flutter; the thought of him sitting with a book, his glasses perched on his nose, brow furrowed as he stroked his thumb over his lip in deep concentration. You were overjoyed at the thought of him reading *your* favorite book and potentially having someone to talk to about it. Before you knew it, you had frantically sent multiple excited messages.

You: "Oh! If you read any of my favorite books we HAVE to talk about them!"

Second message: "AGH the first book I mentioned is my favorite, out of all of them. The ending blew my mind. And the characters were just so amazing! Well except for that one guy.. but I won't spoil that…"

Third message: "But my favorite character has the greatest lines!!! Sometimes I like to quote it but nobody else gets it. And the way the author describes the settings is so magical, it makes you want to be there."

Pedro caught himself smiling at his phone, wrapped up in your excitement, as you were finally able to talk to someone about your favorite book. It was adorable how happy you seemed.

He started to type a reply when you sent another message. "Shoot… I'm sorry. I got a little too carried away…"

"Who told you that?"

Huh?

"Who told me what?" You asked.

"Who made you feel like you had to stop talking when you became excited about your interests?"

His question took you aback, but your mind struggled to pinpoint the answer to it. There's been so many people that have told you that over the years. People you assumed were friends. An old crush who didn't like multiple text messages at once. Classmates who would complain or make fun. It was routine.

"Oh. It's not a big deal. It's just something I've heard over the years. But I also know how I get and I don't want to be too much. I'm sorry. I don't want to monopolize the conversation too much either. But hey, you didn't mention, what are your favorite books?" You tried to change the topic.

Pedro felt that protective feeling bubble up in his chest again.

"Over the years!? There have been multiple occasions?" Pedro shook his head, even though you couldn't see through the text. "I'm sorry anyone ever made you feel that way or said anything to imply that your interests weren't worthy of being heard. Fuck them. They should be thankful that you shared your interests."

They should be grateful to hear your beautiful voice get so excited. To get to see your excitement and smile, Pedro thought to himself angrily. He hoped he could someday witness you getting excited over your interests in person too.

"Thank you Pedro. But really, it's okay. I know I get a little… obsessive and crazy, especially with sending multiple texts, so I don't blame them. Haha. :)" you tried to soften the mood.

"I don't want you to ever feel that way with me. I liked hearing you talk about your interests."

You began to type, but Pedro beat you to the punch.

"In fact… if you'd like to talk more," he gave you his phone number. "Feel free to text me, or you can call me too. I like talking on the phone, but I know not everyone does."

Holy shit. Is this real life? Did Pedro Pascal just give me his phone number? And ask me to call him?

Truthfully, your introverted self really didn't like talking on the phone. But the idea of talking to Pedro, hearing his voice on the other end of your phone was too much to handle.

What you didn't realize, was that Pedro wanted it just as bad.

Your fingers danced over your phone keyboard, trying to find the right words for a reply. What do you say when the love of your life (that you didn't think you would ever have a chance with) gives you his phone number?

Pedro watched anxiously as the three dot-dot-dots of typing appeared and disappeared over and over. His heart was racing, and he began to worry he may have overstepped this time. 

Why did you give her your number? She's going to think you like her!!! 

But you do like her, you idiot, Pedro berated himself.

He ran his hand down his face, waiting for your response in agonizing suspense. But instead of hearing the pop of a notification, his phone began to ring instead, an unknown number displayed on the home screen.

Wait… is that her? Is she CALLING me?!

He answered frantically, practically dropping his phone in the process. 

"Hello?"

"Hello? Pedro? It's me.."

You heard him give a breathless laugh before answering with a gentle "Hi."

_____

Thank you for reading!! Let me know your thoughts :) More will be coming soon. I know this is a painfully slow burn lol. Thanks for being patient.

Next chapter! Here

_____

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibley84 @faithfullyyours2000 @brilliantopposite187 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon

[pedropascallme]

What about Pedro smut with a tattooed reader and maybe a hint of body worship on both ends? No one can tell me he wouldn’t be the most giving partner. (I’m also on board for it to be Din x reader if you’re not comfy writing smut for Pedro) 💕

AN: This isn't as smutty as I was intending for it to be originally, but I'm in the middle of writing a uuuhhhhh really intense Joel smut fic so. I promise I will make up for the lack of filth in this. Still, I hope you like it!!

If he could, Pedro would live between your thighs; he’d spend every waking our between your legs, parting you with his tongue and feeling you squeeze yourself around his head, hand fisted in his hair. His hands grabbed your hips, holding you firmly down so he could continue his movements while you pulled the hair at the nap of his neck. 

“Taste so good.” He moaned into your core, the vibrations traveling through your body. He had made you cum once already, but he was desperate to make you do it again. He rutted into the mattress while he sucked on your clit, delirious with lust over the taste of you. “Please baby, gimme another.”

You arched your back, and he wrapped his lips around your clit once again, nipping and sucking at the swollen bud until he heard you gasping, felt your hand tighten in his hair and attempt to pull him off once it became too much. He couldn’t help the way he lingered, though; how he buried his nose and mouth into you before he finally brought himself up to you at face level. 

You were panting, your eyelids heavy as he began tracing a finger gently over the tattoo on your chest. He followed the curve of the linework over your breasts before switching gears and tracing a smaller one on your shoulder that fit into the sleeve you had been working on finishing for months now. 

“Felt good.” You whispered, looking up at him.

“Tasted good.” He smiled and you let out a contented hum. He pushed himself up and crawled over you, kissing your neck.

“Always taste so good,” He licked a stripe up your throat, “my perfect girl…” You sighed and brought your hands up and around him, grabbing at his back before sliding them back around to his stomach, chest, and then back to his stomach. Maybe it was corny the way you and Pedro were so passionate about each other; there was no question that the two of you were downright obsessed with the other on an emotional and physical level. There was just something that felt so right about worshipping each other, spending time and energy validating one another. 

“You always make me feel so good.” You smiled, and he put all his weight on top of you, kissing you behind your ear and using the tattoo behind your lobe as a target. “So pretty, Pedro.”

“Was thinking the same thing about you, baby.” You wrapped yourself around him, enjoying the pressure he was applying to you. “You need to get your sleeve finished. Need more shapes to trace over while you come down.”

“I’m going to. Eventually, I mean.”

“What if you just got my face tattooed really big on your elbow.”

“That would be so hot, I’m sure nobody would notice how fucked up the lines are as long as I told them it was meant to be Pedro Pascal.”

“Damn right.” He smiled wide, flipping you over so that you were lying on top of him; he squeezed you while you settled over him. 

“You make me feel so pretty.” You mumbled into his neck.

“Then I’m doing my job right.”

“Do I make you feel pretty?” You pondered aloud.

“So pretty, querida,” He chuckled, “So pretty.”

[avenging-fandoms]

I feel like Pedro is craving love so badly but doesn’t allow himself to fall for anyone because he is so scared to be hurt again. This man 😭

I would love to read a fluffy/angsty one shot where he does fall in love before he even realize it and he gets scared and fuck things up. Maybe they can be friends at first. I want to cry and die.

this tiktok of pedro talking fits so well with this fic.

Part 2

You were the light Pedro needed. The breath of fresh air. He was drowning- and you pulled him to safety. He was thankful for you every single day.

It was an accident that you met Pedro, but you're thankful you did. You were walking out of you coffee shop in Los Angeles and not paying attention to where you were walking, bumping into Pedro and spilling your iced coffee on you in the meantime.

"Oh, my goodness I'm so sorry" he scrambled to grab napkins and you thanked him with a smile, patting yourself dry. Thankfully you wore a black hoodie, but you still smelled of vanilla and coffee. "Here, let me buy you another one. This place has the best coffee and I bumped into you"

You smile. "Thank you" He lead you to the counter, and you ordered your coffee again.

"Didn't you just get a coffee, boss? Did I not make it right?" Dylan asked behind the counter and you shake your head.

"No, Dylan. I accidentally bumped into my friend here and I'm wearing your masterpiece" Dylan smiles and takes Pedro's order, taking his car and you two meet at the pick up counter.

"Boss?" he asks and you nod with a small curve of your lip.

"I have owned this coffee shop for almost 6 years now"

"No way, that's amazing. You guys are amazing. I pop in here from time to time and my coffee always tastes the same"

Pedro would could in frequently and ask for you every time. You two would split a banana bread and chat over coffee, really getting to know each other. Your employees teased you about it, they loved that their boss was finally falling in love.

You and Pedro were attached at the hip. He would take you traveling, on set, he loved showing you everything about his life and you loved watching it. Every time he looked at you, he thanked the skies for sending an angel in the shape of you.

It was the season finale for The Last of Us and you threw a party for just you and Pedro. You shut off the lights and throughout the show, you slowly leaned towards Pedro and end up crying on his shoulder.

The credits rolled through and you sat up, wiping your eyes as you look at Pedro. The only thing making you able to see Pedro's face was the thumbnail of the show. "Fuck, Pedro. You did an amazing job"

"Thank you sweetheart. Means a lot" he rubs your back and his eyes meet yours.

There was that feeling again. The feeling of loss. The gut put that leaves a bruise that healed on the outside but hurts every time you move. He saw every way he could lose you, and he saw every way he loved you.

"I have to go" Pedro quickly stood up and slid on his shoes, grabbing his sweater.

"Pedro, what happened? Did I do something?" you stood up and let the blanket fall off of you, turning on the light as you watched him scramble for his keys.

"I can't.. I can't do this" he breathed and slammed the door behind him, leaving you holding your jaw open as your eyes burned.

You lock the door and sulk back to the couch, flopping on the cushions and looking at the screen. Your guy.

Your body shook with sobs and your mouth let out the loudest cry. Your arms cradled your body, jaw numb from how hard you were crying. What did you do wrong? What happened in that millisecond time frame?

You calmed yourself down and sat up, writing an email to your employees that you would be taking the week off but would be popping in to see how everything was going.

You spent the week avoiding anything Pedro, but it was difficult when he was your world. And when he was all over it. When you dragged yourself into the coffee shop, you took down the pictures of you and Pedro off the Polaroid board, stuffing them in your pocket.

"Hey, Boss. How you holding up?" Dylan asked as he sat in the break room. He could see your red eyes and put down his phone. "Do I have to beat him up?"

You laugh and sniffle, Dylan giving you a side hug. "I just don't know what I did wrong. He freaked and left" you huff and he rubs your arm.

"My ex boyfriend did something like that. I still never found out why" Dylan said and you nod, patting his back.

"Thanks, Dyl. Keep up the great work" he nods and you head to the floor, checking on inventory and the employees while putting a fake smile on your face. They all could tell something was wrong, and they knew what it was, they just didn't want to make you anymore upset.

You headed home and rotted in the corner of your couch. Your body was sewed into the couch, crying on and off all day. You missed Pedro. You wanted to text him, call him. But he didn't want that, he made it clear.

You just wanted your guy back.

[l0ngschl0ngking]

These hands were made for worshipping you

Francisco “Catfish” Morales x f!reader

summary: Frankie wants to show you exactly how much he adores you

warnings: SMUT (oral - f!receiving, pussy drunk Frankie, vaginal fingering, mirror sex, unprotected p in v, like 1 spit on the pussy, squirting -3:)- , body worship, size kink -kind of?-, dirty talk - Frankie has a foul mouth), mentions of reader being insecure about her body, mentions of postpartum depression, mentions of food, cursing, dad!frankie and it’s me so…fluff of course

word count: 7k (of filth)

A/N: Frankie is my fav Pedro character so I hope I did a good job writing him :)).

Francisco Morales is an observant man – punctilious dared you to say – he notices even the smallest of details. Whether it's about you, his friends, or the people he meets on the street. He notices the small crinkle of your nose when you smell something good or the way you squint your eyes when you are deep in thought. You guess it's from his times in the army – if you weren't attentive on the mission you were as good as dead.  

So Frankie notices the way you quickly walk past mirrors now – or when you do look at yourself in one – your sad look as your eyes dance across your face, your body which changed after the birth of your baby girl. He sees the small frown adorning your face and the way you huff. When you catch him looking at you, you quickly smile and try to hide this look he cannot quite place – but Frankie notices. He wants to make you feel good. He always does. It's Frankie – your Frankie – who wants nothing more than to please you. 

So an idea pops in his head. He has planned a nice romantic dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant  – god knows he hasn’t taken you out on a date since birth and it's been almost 2 months now. His parents said that they would come and pick up little Gracie – you were adamant and not sure if that was such a good idea at first, you weren't apart from her before. But Frankie has a way with persuasion – all it takes for you to give in are his brown eyes paired with his fluffy hair and patchy beard and you are done for. So it's no surprise when you say yes to his plan to try and make you feel better – normal.  

 He read it once in this shitty magazine when you two were waiting for your doctor's appointment – that women are prone to postpartum depression, mood swings after birth…And he hated even thinking that you might feel that way. He tried to help as much as possible when he came home from work – exhausted most of the time than not. His soothing voice telling you to relax, his big hands paired with his calloused fingers massaging your shoulders, his hot breath on your skin when he kisses you so softly onto that spot on your neck – the smooth tone of his voice hushing your worries and the sweet nothings released from his mouth whispered in your ear.    

 So you feel even worse when none of his soothing words help and his gentle touch makes you feel even more anxious. When his hands make contact with your skin you want to pull away. Because he deserves better and you know that – you are disgusting. Your clothes don’t fit you anymore even when you try – emphasizing the word try as most of the time you are too tired - to work out. Your body has changed now and you feel repulsed by the way you look, by the way you walk and talk. You feel like you are not good enough of a wife, let alone a mother. You keep telling yourself that he touches you just because he feels obligated to – as your husband. Because how could he love this horrid-looking person staring back at you anytime you look in the mirror?   

And what makes you feel even worse is the way he makes it all look so damn easy – the parenting. When he comes home from work he tries to take care of both of you and he never complains. He never has mental breakdowns – like you do - when Gracie cries to the point you just want to lock yourself in the bathroom. When she doesn’t want to latch on although you know she is hungry. But you think he knows – because it's Frankie – and he just doesn’t want you to feel bad, he never calls you out on it. And she seems like such a ray of sunshine with him – he makes her calm down immediately with his sheer presence. And you feel bad for Frankie because he really –really – does deserve better than this – than you. So you want to make it up to him – your behavior, your incompetence – and you dubiously agree to his proposal for a date.  

 You pack up everything for your daughter – and you also triple-check everything too, before you are satisfied. You packed her two bags and Frankie thinks it's too much for not even one day – he doesn’t say anything, however. He knows his parents are capable of taking care of his chiquita – after all, they took care of him and raised him. And he knows you don’t doubt them – you are just worried – and he understands. When the evening quickly rolls and you hear the bell , you want to go and get it but Frankie just shushes you and tells you to get ready – his patchy beard scratching you when he presses a brisk kiss on your cheek when you try telling him for the hundredth time where everything is and that they have to reheat the milk in the warm water. He takes Gracie from your arms and blows raspberries on her tummy – she laughs and he laughs along with her as he opens the door. You only hear the hushed voices of his parents as they greet their only granddaughter when you go upstairs to your shared bedroom.   

Frankie is still dressed in his sweatpants and a soft cotton shirt which you got him as a joke before Gracie was born -Girl Dad written on it in a pretty cursive font, his signature well-worn-off cap sitting on top of his head when he runs up the stairs after he tells his mother the instructions you gave her and she just brushes him off and scoffs – as if offended - but he knows she meant it in a heartwarming  “I know what to do, mijo” kind of way. He passes his chiquita to his dad and presses wet kisses onto her whole face - saying goodbye to her. She doesn't even seem to care though as she laughs at something Frankie's dad does and Frankie smiles as he softly closes the doors.  

You and your mother-in-law get along well and she respects you – and you respect her in return. After all, she raised Frankie and he grew up into a pretty great man - in your opinion.  She is also more like a second mother to you as yours lives in another state and you can't see her as often as you'd like. Opposed to Frankie's parents who live close by and help you with Gracie as often as they can. And you are grateful for that as you still don’t know how to navigate in this new role of a mother. Gracie loves them too – especially her grandad who calls her “mi little princesa”– and doesn’t she know it? Last time he bought her this pink princess-looking dress and even though she fussed when you try to put it on her she calmed down when her grandad almost cried and took thousands of pictures  - while making the silliest faces at her - of her which he shows to all of his friends anytime he has the chance now.    

When Frankie faintly opens the bedroom door, he stands in the doorway – leaning against the doorframe as he watches you stand in front of the full-length mirror you two bought when you just moved in. It's an old thing but you fell in love with it when you found it in one of these old antique shops you were passing by one day. Pretty hefty with the wooden frame adorning it and Frankie complained at least another week after he carried it up the stairs that his lower back was now killing him because of it.

So he watches when you smooth your hands down the material of the pretty floral dress you are now wearing – funnily enough Frankie’s favorite and the only one which you could actually zip up all the way. He sees the way your shoulders sag down and the way you shake your head at yourself. He sighs quietly and steps into the room – for a man his size he can be quiet as a mouse and he sneaks behind you – his hands making their way to your waist. He lowers his chin onto your shoulder. You meet his gaze in the mirror and he offers you a small smile – the compliment he wants to say sits on top of his tongue – but you beat him to it, the tears threatening to escape you, now stinging your eyes. 

“I look like shit, Frankie.” It surprises him really – he knew you were feeling down, he could see it – but this is the first time you actually say something about it to him. He tried to talk to you but you always just closed off and he never wanted to push on the subject – not wanting to make you even more uncomofrtable. He grips your waist tighter and one of his hands brushes the unshed tears from your eyes. His thumb smoothing over the soft fabric of your dress. You feel the vibrations of his voice on your shoulder when he speaks. 

“Baby, you are absoutely breathtakingly gorgeous.” He whispers and the way he says it – full of endearment and love, with the soft tone he only reserves for you makes it easy for you to believe him – or to at least try to believe him. You shake your head in disagreement and he grabs your chin – his thick fingers squeezing – making you look at him in the mirror. Really look at him. "And I don't know why you feel the way you feel but I do want to help you because I love you so fucking much it hurts me sometimes." The ghost of his whispered confession lingers in the air and you swallow thickly as he holds your stare. You can feel the way his chest heaves with every pass of his breath because he is so close to you - so fucking close. You feel his hard chest pressed up against your back and his soft stomach on your lower back, his bulge pressing against you. In the mirror, you can see how broad he is opposite to you - his shirt straining against his shoulders that you love to rest your legs on while he eats you out. 

 And for someone as attentive as Frankie he is also pretty unassuming when it comes to himself. He praises you every chance he has, he touches you anytime you pass by him. He's tall and lumbering and he doesn't even know the effect he has on you. You try to tell him constantly how much you love him - god and do you ever - and try to make him at least half as loved and appreciated as you feel. He always just shrugs you off with a shy chuckle under his breath and blush on his scruffy cheeks. You love him for him and it doesn't hurt that he is also the most gorgeous man you've ever encountered. With his brown eyes and curly hair, his patchy beard and aquiline nose and that stupid hat that seems to be glued to his head. And somehow he is yours.

You love the way he towers over you and how his solid chest now presses against your back when he hugs you from behind. Or fucks you from behind. And you miss it - god how much you miss it - the way his big fat cock feels against your walls and how it seems to split you almost in half - even after all these years together. But even though Frankie doesn't seem to be repulsed by you – he hasn’t tried any moves on you since the birth of your baby girl and the thought of him not finding you attractive anymore bruises your beating heart. 

 He can sense the change in your body language – the press of your ass against his crotch, your head bumping onto his shoulder and he digs his blunt nails into your hip, the hand that was holding your chin smoothing over the soft skin of your now exposed throat, down between the valley of your breasts and stopping on your stomach. He feels you tense and he places a delicate kiss on your neck – the feel of his beard sending shudder down your spine. A silent moan falls out of your lips when his tongue pokes out to suck on your skin and you feel him smirk against you – the scrape of his teeth making you writhe under his touch. You don’t want to feel this way anymore – unattractive and worthless – and it seems Frankie can read your mind as he meets your eyes when you open them and look at him in the mirror. A hushed: “Tell me what do you need” is said between the soft nips left on your nape and it's hard to concentrate with the way his deft fingers toy with the hem of your dress.  

 Francisco Morales is a patient man – he can wait hours for a target to show up or wait while you shop for new clothes -he especially enjoys when you buy new langerie. And he is equally as patient now as he waits for your answer. Basking in the way you just let him hold you after so long without tensing up immediately. You are now putty in his hands which explore your new body he hasn’t had a chance to really touch. And he absolutely fucking loves it. He loves all of the new curves and how his calloused fingers dip into your soft flesh. He traces it with a newfound adoration and appreciation for you. You birthed his daughter and he cannot believe you are so strong and perfect – his exquisite little wife. He wants to show you how fucking much he adores you – all of you. And so he waits for your answer – he roughly exhales when he hears the low “Just need you, Francisco” as you squeeze one of his hands holding your upper thigh. 

He nods – once, twice – before he carefully unzips your floral dress which falls from your shoulders. He presses light kisses into the crook of them and he moves to kiss your shoulder blades, his fingers tracing the beauty marks adorning your back. His touch is electrifying and you whine his name pathetically when he squeezes one of your tits tenderly. The shiver that runs down your spine slowly makes its way into your limbs when he sinks onto his knees and drags your dress down along with him – you want to say that he shouldn’t – his knees will hurt tomorrow if he keeps kneeling on the floor but he muffles your protest when his teeth sink into the meat of your ass – his tongue smoothing the sting he leaves there. The words he says are slurred when he inhales your scent – his nose pressing into your cunt shamelessly, his fingers spreading your ass cheeks open.  

 “Missed this pretty pussy, querida.” You want to tell him you missed this too – his fingers digging into your flesh and his tongue on you. Frankie is not much of a talker – everyone who knows him knows that. He just sits and listens - sometimes he quipps something or joins the conversation after a while and he is content with that. But in the bedroom? That’s a different kind of Frankie – you call him “pussy drunk Morales” and it's pretty accurate. He can spend hours between your thighs and he is just as happy and content with it as you are – if not more. He is a talker in bed and when you first slept together it surprised you – and it was a welcome surprise for sure. “Gosh, I am gonna make you feel so good, hermosa. Want you to watch how I finger you in the mirror.” And he also isn't shy to tell you what he wants in bed.

You swallow thickly – your Adam's apple bobbing – when you can see his hands dip lower, smoothing them along your ankles and then back up – his thick fingers moving with preciseness. He knows your body like his own and he can map out every single sensitive spot on it with his eyes closed. Frankie wants to please and his mission is to do so - the inner pilot in him sitting in the front seat whenever you two have sex together. He knows which buttons to push at the right time and which not - to wait out. You whimper and try to push your hips against him – too impatient, to wound up. The small chuckle that cuts through the – other than that - quiet room makes you want to jump his bones right then and there. He enjoys it when you squirm in his grasp but tonight he is just as needy as you. It's been so long – too long – since he last touched you like this.

“I am gonna give you exactly what you need, baby.” You believe him – he always gives you exactly what you need – and more. His hands spread your ass cheks open once more and he fucking spits on your gaping hole. You jolt at the sudden action but he holds you close. He coats his finger in the spit, putting pressure on the tight ring of muscle whispering “another time”. And you are so so desperate – you'd let him do anything to you right now. Not that other times you wouldn’t - he proved to you over and over again that he will make anything incredible for you.

He is slow with it – as he enters you with one of his fingers, adding the second one right after and he hisses when your walls squeeze them. The thickness of them makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, closing your eyes you focus only on the feeling of being so fucking full and when he moves, your hand shoots back – tossing his hat off and gripping his hair. He fucking loves it -your fingers curling into his locks and he feels your nails scrape against his scalp. He wants more, needs more – and so do you. So he starts moving the fingers inside of you and the moans that fall out of your mouth are worth every fucking minute that was building up to this moment.

“Look at yourself, querida. Look at how fucking wrecked you look for me.” His voice is strained and you as he says – you always do. And the sight that you see makes your heart bit a little faster, and the muscles in your cunt pull tighter. You see Frankie's head poking out to watch too – his lips ghosting across your outer thigh while his fingers keep working inside of you. His hair is wild – and you grip him tighter by it– his face twists in pleasure and it makes him speed up, makes his finger hook and pat your walls with a newfound want. Your mouth hangs wide open, your brows furrowed, the bead of sweat running down your neck disappearing between the valley of your breasts. You see every reaction to his onslaught – every twitch in your muscles, every inch your mouth opens wider in pure bliss, even the way your breath picks up when Frankie presses against something incredible inside of you and you tell him to keep going.

You see the way the muscles in his neck strain – the vein on it clearly visible to your hungry eyes now. You spot the way one of his hands fists his cock that strains against the flimsy sweatpants. Every time he groans against your flesh quick “Fuck, so fucking pretty,” every time he whispers “Make me feel so good, want you to feel so good too, querida,” only brings you closer and closer to the edge. It's written all over your face – the hunger – carnal and selfish. And you want to cum, you feel the coil in your belly pulling tight but it's not enough and you sob in frustration. Your fingers flex in Frankie's curls and you plead for something – anything. You almost cry when he pulls away – his fingers leaving your fluttering cunt.

His fingers are coated with you and he doesn’t want to waste even a single drop – bringing them to his mouth he moans at your tangy taste, closing his eyes. He swats your thigh when you plead him “Frankie, Frankie, please, please. I was so close” and he just shushes you with “I know, baby, I know” after he pulls his fingers out of his mouth and stands up – groaning at the flash of pain that shoots through him. He turns you quickly and his hungry mouth is on yours not even a second later – the first time he kisses you tonight and you moan into his mouth as he “shares” your taste with you that sits heavy on his tongue. It's slow and soft and his grip on your hip doesn’t falter, his other hand bringing you closer – pressing against your lower back. Your fingers curl into the soft cotton of his shirt – holding him in place. Kissing his bottom lip first – your teeth scrape it and you give the same attention to the lower lip. The kiss makes you warm and fuzzy, it makes something in your chest bubble with an infinite love for this man - your man -in front of you.

He's warm and solid under your palms and his hand snakes onto the hinge of your jaw – opening your mouth wider, craving more. You hold onto him tighter, sighing deeply as his tongue explores your mouth. It makes your toes curl and when he pulls away you are breathless – your breath coming in short huffs. He doesn’t look much better – his hair is tousled, hair sticking in every direction and your hands try to slick it back but it's no help. You want to bury yourself in him, in the way he makes you feel so damn protected and loved. You chase his mouth again but he just gives you a quick peck and gifts you a broad grin that you want to kiss away.

“Go and sit on edge of the bed, hermosa.” You quirk an eyebrow at him but eventually turn – with a shake of your hips you comply with his request – sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing your arms over your stomach as you watch Frankie slowly undress. His shirt comes off first and you lick your lips when you see the expanse of his back, the muscles flexing deliciously when he grabs the mirror and brings it to you – and wait, why the fuck is he bringing the mirror to the edge of the bed? He places it in front of you and stands next to it looking at your bare skin – licking his lips and you try and shield away from his gaze – the nasty thoughts still screaming at you at the back of your mind – and maybe Frankie really is pretending. Maybe – maybe-

“You still with me, baby?” The term of endearment falling from his lips makes you fucking emotional and you nod when he kisses one of your hands – pressing butterfly kisses to each and every one of your knuckles– kneeling in front of you. He grabs your hands – pulling them away from your stomach – soft and flabby now with stretch marks adorning it and you look away because he is so close you feel the ghost of breath against it and he must feel so disgusted by you – you don’t wanna see it in his eyes. He grasps your chin and orders you to look at him – when you do you see no disgustment in his eyes – nor is he pulling away from you like you expected him to. “Don’t want you to hide from me, querida.” He mumbles against the skin on your wrists and he shifts on his knees – getting closer to you. He touches your inner thighs softly and then his hands move higher – sliding over your hips and onto your tummy. He moves you even closer to him. His lips dance across your belly now – the pads of his fingers dipping into the curves on it and he hums when he feels you slowly relax.

After he is happy with his efforts on you – pecking every fucking inch of your “So undeniably gorgeous” body as he whispers filth onto your skin – your brain stops working after a while and all you can think of is Frankie when hovers above you. Tucking your hair behind your ear he kisses your collar bone and his hand moves behind your head – his forehead bumps with yours and the other hand strokes your sensitive nipple – you whimper and your hot breath tickles his face. “Baby, you gonna sit on my face and you will watch yourself in the mirror while I eat you out, yeah?” It seems like a question but it isn't – at least not really. Frankie wants you to sit on his face and there's no room to argur about it. He is good at giving orders – and you are glad to follow them. Your inside twists in anticipation when you nod.

It's certainly not the first time Frankie asked you to sit on his face - because this man loves to eat pussy – for breakfast, lunch and dinner. From the back, front - on a counter, floor, couch. Pretty much everywhere and anytime. When you first started seeing each other and he told you he “wanted to eat your pussy” you just laughed – thinking he must be kidding. But when you looked at him you learned that he was completely and utterly serious and didn’t understand what was so funny about it. And god, he was incredible in it. He would spend days between your thighs if you'd let him.

He flips you both over – you are now on top of him and him under you. Your thighs lay on the side of his narrow waist. You feel him through the material of his sweats - feeling the wet spot on them - and you make an experimental roll of your hips – his hands flying out to stop your efforts as he groans. “Up, baby. Gosh, missed your pussy on my tongue. Come on, up, up. Please, querida, please -” His nails dig into the flesh of your ass when you start moving up his body – your nails scratching his nipples as you do – and his hips buck up, pleading with you “Please, please, baby, need that wet pussy on my mouth.” He is lewd with his words and you grip him by the hair when you hover above his head, his neck strains when he tries to reach your dripping core - just a little taste- but you push his head back down and look at yourself in the mirror – your hair is wild and so are your lust blown eyes. You look sexy - powerful- when you see how this man writhes under you and wants “Just a little taste, hermosa. Give me a taste. God, this pussy was made for my mouth.” Your chest swells with incredible need for the feel of his tongue, his touch, him.

He pulls you down on him and your hands fly from his hair onto the mattress as your fingers grip the cool sheets. The first swipe of his tongue against your folds makes your head fall back and Frankie watches with hungry eyes your reactions – his hands coming to hold yours in his. His palms are a little sweaty under you and he feels like he is on fucking fire while he licks into your cunt as you clench around his tongue. He muffles something against you and you look down at him – he looks so fucking blissed out that it makes you whine as you buck against his mouth. He squeezes your fingers between his and pulls away from your sopping folds, pressing wet kisses onto your inner thighs. “Look at yourself, baby. Fuck, this cunt was so fucking needy to feel my mouth on it. Wasn’t it?” You nod frantically and you look back into the mirror when his tongue swirls against your clit, your back arching.

The swell of your breasts calls for his attention and he pulls one of his hands away from yours – your free hand grips his hair when he toys with the nipple between his fingers –a trickle of milk beading from it and that makes him hungry for more as he mutters a quick “Fuck yes.” His tongue plunging into you and he fucking loves the sounds you make for him. The sweat on your skin builds up with your upcoming orgasm. You start grinding onto his face and he moans in agreement, his eyes closing in concentration because – fuck – he needs you to soak his face. “Yeah, use me, baby. Just like that, c'mon. Fuck my face. I want it,” He growls - you do as you are told and Frankie is unable to form any other words, his jaw locking as he tries to not let a single drop go to waste, brows furrowing. His hand slaps you across your ass and soothes the sting with his palm, it burns your skin and you plead him to do it again, again, and again-

If anyone tried to tell you Frankie doesn’t enjoy eating pussy you'd tell them they are fucking crazy. Because you feel it from the way vibrations come out of his chest, his fingers tighten against you and he is so fucking deprived to feel more of you, always wants more of you. And he is also the fucking best at this – all calculated swirls and licks of his tongue, efficient swipes of the pink muscle against your walls, on your clit. “Fuck, baby. Gonna cum, Francisco. You are gonna make me cum!” You squeal and he doubles his efforts – his mouth sucking on your clit, and you look away from the mirror as you gaze down at him and he wants you to cum but also doesn’t want to this to stop, never wants to stop. It makes you keen under his touch. He doesn’t pull his mouth away from you to tell you to “Yeah, fucking soak this face. Want this needy little pussy to squeeze me tight.” he just keeps going and it only takes two or three swipes of his tongue against your bundle of nerves before you are cumming – soaking his face as he wanted.

You aren't sure which one of you is louder – your ears ring and you are pretty sure you passed out as white-hot pleasure shoots through your entire body – making your nerves feel like they are on a fucking fire. When you come back from your senses and feel he isn't stopping – wants to clean you up but it feels like too much and you try to push his head away and scramble from him but his hands lock on your hips as he holds you close. And then he kisses you on your pussy – butterfly kisses pressed against your clit, your folds as he breathes you in – your curls tickling him on a nose. You slowly move down his torso and he can feel how wet you still are on his skin. He slowly sits up and grins at you – it's a sight to behold. His beard is all shiny with your slick and he licks his lips as he holds you close – pulling you by the head to kiss your already awaiting lips. His hard-on presses against your bare core and you sigh into his mouth when you feel him twitch against you – grabbing him and he quickly pushes your hand away – breaking from the kisses. “Querida, I am gonna cum in my pants if you keep doing that. I almost did. You make me hard as a fucking rock.”

“Would that be so bad?” You grin against his mouth and he whispers “cheeky” before his tongue enters your mouth once again – the taste of you makes your head spin. His fingers dance against your searing skin and you lounge in this moment of post-sex intimacy. His nose traces your jaw as he kisses you on it and he nuzzles against your neck when you kiss him on the top of his head.

“Hm, not really. It would just mean I'd have to eat you out again before I could sink my cock into this sweet cunt.” He says the dirty words as easily as he asks how was your day. It makes the tip of your ears turn a deep red color and you giggle breathily.

“You have a foul mouth. Has anyone told you that before?” He hums when you massage the back of his scalp – your nails scratching the spot behind his ear and he almost but purrs.

“I believe you did. Once or twice, or anytime we fuck.” He throws you a toothy grin.

He nips at the skin on the crook of your shoulder and suddenly the atmosphere changes once more – his hips buck up when you swirl your bare cunt on him. The press of his lips against you is now more urgent, dire and he whimpers when your hand takes him from his boxers – your thumb circling the red head as a bead of precum spurts out. He spits out a quick “fuck” before he is throwing you onto the mattress – shucking his sweatpants off of him and he is scrawling back to you seconds later. He handles you like a ragdoll – you face the mirror as he kneels behind you, your face smushed against the sheets as you watch his ministrations, his hands hooking under your hips to hold you as he pleases. His cock throbs against the back of your thigh and one of his hand tugs lazily on his cock – notching it at your entrance and coating the head in your wetness.

“I am gonna fuck you so so good, baby. And you will watch.” He reaches forwards and grips your chin making you look directly into the mirror – the soft belly of his pressing against your lower back as he does so and it makes you moan in concurrence. You see the flash of white teeth in the mirror before he is pushing into your already awaiting and fluttering cunt. The moans you both let out as he pushes all the way in are downright lewd. Your walls are sensitive and you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock. The thickness of him makes it feel like he is in your guts and you choke when shifts – the head of him brushing against something glorious inside of you. He notices when the muscles in your pussy squeeze him tighter and he focuses on the spot – not really moving, trying to find the right angle.

You cry out when he makes an experimental thrust of his hips and it never felt this way before. He chuckles in pure happiness because he knows he found it and he bends closer to you – his dick pushing deeper, deeper – so he can whisper into your ear. “Oh, baby. This will feel so fucking good for you. Fuck, let me hear you.” You don’t hear him as clearly because you feel like you are falling in and out of consciousness every time his cock passes through your walls. He pulls back away – his fingers tangling into your hair and pulling you back by it – the quick nip of his teeth on your ear making you look at him in the mirror. “Told you to watch, so you will watch, yeah?” You nod – not trusting your voice as your throat closes down on you. He grips you tighter, and the pads of his other fingers pet your clit. “I need to hear you say it, baby. Tell me what a girl you are and that you will watch as I fuck you on my big fat fucking cock.” You hear the snarl in his voice and he stops moving, his teeth sinking into the flesh on your shoulder. “C'mon, tell me. Tell me, baby.” He orders and you sob – you look and sound pathetic and Frankie loves everything about it.

“Yes, baby – Frankie, I will watch how you fuck me on your big fat cock. Please, just move. Please, please, please -” The breath is knocked out from your lungs when he does, his hands falling from your hair as he traces his fingers down your spine and you try to watch as he told you. You watch his face as he watches how he disappears in and out of your fluttering cunt, how his hair bounces with his every movement, how his hand now grips your hip moving you closer to him. You see the way you are completely fucked out, how your mouth opens wider with every pass of his cock – you see the way he bends down and slows his movement just so he can lick the salty sweat rolling down the base of your spine. All you can do is whimper when he pulls back and seems to only concentrate on his cock inside of you.

He angles his hips and when he pushes deeper inside of you – his balls smacking against the meat of your ass – you want to crawl away from him because it feels like you are going to pee. The calloused pads of his fingers circle your clit and he plunges his dick onto that spot over and over again – you plead with him to stop, it feels too fucking good and you don’t know if you can handle it. He smacks you once, twice, three times – his fingers digging on that spot where it stings and it's too much – all too much. You feel the coil inside of you snap and your chest falls onto the mattress, the intense pleasure crashes into you in waves and you faintly hear Frankie hiss as he pulls out of you as you soak him - his pubic hair drips in with your slick and the sheets are wet but he wants you to do it again.

“Yes, yes. Fuck, baby. You soaked me. Want you to do it again. Can you do it again?” He doesn’t wait for your answer before he plunges into you again and you keep repeating his name like a prayer when you feel another wave crashing through your body – you press your ass into him more and he hisses. You vaguely feel the wet press of his tummy against your lower back and he pulls away from you completely as you plop onto the mattress. You hear the slick of his fists on his cock and you muster the energy to raise your head to look into the mirror. He jerks of, the movements of his fists frantic and the muscles in his biceps flex with every pass of his arm. His neck is strained as he throws his head back and cums – the ropes of pearly white liquid falling onto your back. He falls right on top of you – careful not to crush you. It's quiet for a long while and then he slowly moves away from you – you whine in protest as you hear the sound of his feet against the tiled floor.

When he comes back you feel a warm towel on your back as he cleans you up – carefully swiping it between your thighs as well. You feel the bed dip under the weight of him – pulling you on top of him. You listen to the rapid beating of his heart slowing down as he draws patterns onto your spine, kissing you on the forehead. A hushed conversattion between you two as you open up to him - about the way you felt since birth - and he swears to you that tommorow both of you will look for help - so you can talk to a professional about it. And if it is possible - you swear your love for him grows after his quiet promise.

He grins then and you raise your head to throw him a questioning look.

“I made you squirt, baby.” He says it with smugness in his voice and you swat him on the shoulder, grinning too.

“Don't be so smug about it. We both know you are too freaking good in bed, Francisco. So really, it was only a matter of time.” After the sex fog in his brain fades away he is back to his sheepish self as one of his hands rubs his neck at your compliment.

“Was it good, though?” Only Francisco Morales could ask such a stupid question after he made you see stars.

“Yeah, baby. I thought I passed the fuck out at least three times. That’s how good it was.” You kiss his peck and he hums, stroking your hair and you start to feel hungry – your stomach rumbling and he laughs, and reaches for his phone on the bedside table.

“So, because we didn’t make it to dinner what do you want me to order? Pizza, sushi, chinese?” He lists and you think about it before you blurt out “chinese” and he nods, pecking your lips quickly. Before he calls to order though you say: “Love you, Frankie.”

A boyish smirk makes its way onto his face and he looks younger like this – like he has no worries in his life. The dim light in the bedroom makes his golden skin shine and you think about how the heck did you get so lucky. “Love you too, querida.” He says as he presses another kiss onto your forehead.