Hello and welcome to my greenhouse, where I grow and cultivate my writing of Pedro Pascal characters only, not Papi himself. It’s still early days for me and my writing seedlings🌱, so feedback, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
This is a 18+ blog, so DNI if that isn’t you. I am bilingual, so please be considerate of that because trying not to repeat myself is hard. My writing is helping me deal with some trauma, so please take care with individual content warnings-specifically, I may refer to toxic relationships/coercive control 🦋💜 not only in my writing, but also in what I share generally here
I want my blog to be 🌈inclusive and welcoming to all🌈, but am aware I write what I know, and that is from a position of privilege so I may get it wrong - kind, constructive feedback is very much welcome, but I deal with bfrb so may include physical descriptions that help me process this.
Right, that’s enough overshare, come on in and have a look at what I’m currently growing
One Shots
Catching a Break (Javi Peña X colleague f!reader)
Unbeknownst to him, you've witnessed your colleague Javi Peña in the aftermath of a failed operation, and decide to cover for him. The two of you have been driving each other mad, so he doesn't understand where your sudden change of heart has come from. But he is determined to find out...
Who does this belong to? (Joel Miller X f!reader)
Contribution to @theywhowriteandknowthings Day 5 of Murder Daddy Kinktober 2023
Joel finds your special toy and wants to try it out on you. He does so on the hood of his truck.
If we make it through December (Javi Peña X f!reader)
Having moved back to your Texan hometown after a break-up, a Christmas party at your friends’ house brings Javi Peña, your first love thought long-lost, back into your life...
Moving Day (dbf!Joel x f!reader)
Joel helps you move back home, you snap a picture of him and watch him in the pool. Do I need say more...
trepidation (Jackson! Joel x f!reader)
Your time with Joel had been an escape, a place for you to rest and be free from the terrors exerted on your body and mind. But you know things must come to an end, and have accepted what this might mean for you. What you don't yet know is that Joel has his own interpretation of 'ending things'.
Series
🍒 Cereza 🍒 (Javi Peña X colleague f!reader)
Having left behind your life (and a cheating boyfriend) in the US, you have become one of the top, if overworked, DEA representatives in Colombia, working alongside Javier Peña and Steve Murphy. As you close in on one of Pablo Escobar's top sicarios, you and Javi navigate your increasing attraction to each other.
(Javi x f!reader; Joel x f!reader)
Javi and Joel have found out it's your birthday. Even if you are reluctant to celebrate, they want you to know they remember.
Special Day (Javi x f!reader, fluffiest of fluff)
Hummingbird (Joel x f!reader, fluff, post-outbreak)
He's relocated to the UK. Why? Because of you, of course!
You spend Christmas week squashed together in the single bed of your childhood bedroom. The walls are a 90s time capsule of boy band posters and blurry photo collages. You're just glad your family has swapped out your Forever Friends bed cover for something less embarrassing.
Marcus spends the week in a state of almost permanent confusion. He really needs to watch more British sitcoms for research.
What is a pantomime? Some sort of Disney drag show?
Why does he need to wear a paper crown at dinner?
Pigs in blankets are not what he expected. And neither is the gravy - it's brown.
Driving around the housing estate for a 'Christmas light safari' is apparently the height of entertainment.
He cuts a slice of your grandmother's Christmas cake before Christmas, and she almost throws him out of the house. He's only saved from banishment by deploying the word ma'am at just the right moment - you'll never forget seeing a ferocious 92 year old woman actually swoon.
He thinks it's cute when you give him his own coloured highlighter to mark what TV shows he wants to watch in the Radio Times. Sure, the TV has a built-in programme guide, but where's the fun in that?
It's all so very different, so very British, but then so are you. And it's worth being here, being crammed into a tiny boiling hot pub and sipping on a pint of flat, warm ale before you excitedly pull him through the crowd by the hand. It's worth it all just to see your face as you introduce him to your school friends with your eyes twinkling proudly as you say, "Guys, this is Marcus."
Marcus Pike masterlist
Tagging a few loves who are with me or humour me in the Pike Puddle:
A/N: Mostly inspired by the holy trinity that are those 3 gifs.
Very happy to hear your thoughts, but please go easy on me as I pop my (Javi) cherry….
Rating: 18+ Minors DNI!!
Summary: You’ve worked with Javier Peña for almost a year now, and regularly clash with him as you like to stick to the rules. So he doesn’t get why you suddenly cover for one of his biggest fuck-ups. Unbeknownst to him, you have witnessed him facing a moral dilemma in the streets of Medellin, causing him to let ‘Sure Shot’ Corrales get away. You couldn’t drag yourself away from the sight of him panting against a wall afterwards, and, decide that later, in the de-briefing meeting with your bosses, you are going to take the flak for him. You just know you’re going to be in for it once the meeting ends…
Warnings: NSFW/ PIV (unprotected sex)/ praise kink/ oral (m receiving)/ some brief thigh riding/ fingering/ mild Dom Javi/ some angst and a sprinkle of fluff if you squint/ PWP/ eventual smut/ you and Javi steal glances at each other/ some enemies to lovers vibes /if that filing cabinet at the embassy could talk
Word Count: 6.9 k ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
‘Yes, boss. I immediately followed Corrales on foot alone, and …’
Javier couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You most definitely had not followed one of Escobar’s most valuable assets immediately, and what’s more, you most fucking definitely had not done so alone. He tried to catch your eye across the room, but was only able to glimpse your profile, while you were facing Messina and kept your eyes trained on her. You had taken on that holier- than-thou, professional attitude that drove his insides to bubble with rage whenever he found himself in one of the stuffy conference rooms, having to report to his superiors. More than once they had told him in no uncertain terms that he was expected to wear one of the shitty suits during these meetings and he detested how scratchy the cheap polyester felt on his skin and the seams constrict around him, hindering him in his ability to do his job – the way he saw it, he should be ready to jump into action at any point. Meanwhile, you seemed as entirely comfortable in your pencil skirt and blouse as you were in tactical gear and boots.
The way you were able to so unashamedly kiss ass enraged him every single time, made him grind his teeth, even if, or maybe because, he simultaneously felt compelled to observe how your blouse softened the contours of your body, in stark difference to the way that a bullet-proof vest had lent you a hardened exterior only hours before in the operation which you now had to dissect in front of Messina and the other pen-pushing assholes.
Whenever you went on about how you understood the political implications of your, Javi’s and Murphy’s actions, as if you needed to justify trying to capture the world’s most wanted narco-terrorist, he often had to supress an eye-roll, usually diverting it to shoot a look at Murphy; but more recently he had found his eyes trailing the way the tight skirts hugged your curves. He barely realised he had done so again right now as he followed the sight of your legs, down to where you had squeezed your feet into those high-heels that he scoffed at internally for being fucking useless unless you wanted to join the swarm of secretaries fluttering around him every day. At the same time, his mind conjured up images of them digging into the small of his back.
What ripped him out of his thoughts was the way you had tensely wrapped the same high heels around the feet of the chair right now, the only hint of tension hidden away from the people in the room grilling you. You were usually more composed. A more spiteful part of him was gleeful he had spotted this evidence of your nerves, visible to nobody but him as he was seated at a ninety degree angle to you.
Of course, she’s nervous, she’s taking fucking credit for …He caught himself – you couldn’t possibly try to take credit for a fuck up. He had chased Corrales and disappeared from your and Murphy’s view, neither of them being able to cover him. But he had let him get away, his only other option being to shoot at a boy, a spotter no doubt, but one no older than seven years old. Granted, he could have chanced it, being shot at by a child would not surprise him after years down in Columbia, but he wanted to hold on to some semblance of humanity, even if it was only a shred of idealism amongst the cynicism he had been wearing like armour for years now. Your voice pulled him back to the present moment…
‘I do apologise, boss, but I was frankly too slow and when the suspect was out of my view briefly, I took a guess and went in the wrong direction. I had shouted to Agent Peña to follow the other suspect as I was confident I could secure Corrales alone, so I accept sole responsibility’.
‘Well there is nothing to do about it now, other than learn from this, Agent.’ Messina replied glumly. ‘Apprehending this particular individual could have turned things around significantly in our endeavour. I know you will reflect carefully on the way you conduct yourself in the field in future to ensure we achieve results that are more satisfying.’ Messina was clearly not pleased, Javier thought, but she was weathered enough not to lose her temper or cry over spilled milk. Anyone who did not have the resilience to face big setbacks like today’s was not in the right place here.
Your voice was uncharacteristically small as you responded: ‘Yes, Ma’m – erm, boss’. Javier scoffed audibly as you corrected yourself in addressing the head of the DEA in Bogotá as she had requested on her first day – she had scolded him as well when all he had intended to do was use his Southern manners with the woman. Whilst Messina shot him a quick glance of disapproval, he looked in your direction expecting a similar look of annoyance – he routinely berated you for being such a brown-noser – but you simply busied yourself with your papers and grabbed your jacket as you stood up from the large table, and left the conference room first, nodding briefly at the other attendees. He knew you wouldn’t want to discuss the story you had just produced to them openly, but you ignored him completely.
Javier had no idea what had just happened, or why. Much of his job forced him to react to the unexpected at all times, and he had enjoyed the predictability you had always offered – knowing how you would cross the t’s and dot the i’s in every report without fail and would arrive back at your desk exactly at the 60th minute of your lunch hour had allowed him small moments of respite from the constant need to be on high alert.
So what were you playing at now?
Leaving Murphy on his own to deal with Messina’s monologue about ‘adopting the highest standards in our operations in the field’ - clearly a display of her authority intended for the audience of other law enforcement and military personnel in the room, he rushed out to confront you.
//////////
He was a boy. As you reached the roof of the building you had seen Corrales run past, hoping to either cut him off or at least guide Murphy and Peña from above, you had barely caught a glimpse of the figure in a stand-off with your colleague holding a gun, but just as you had pulled your weapon from its holster, you realised it was a child you were aiming at, and just like Peña, you froze.
Likewise, after a moment that seemed to stretch out forever, you too paused and lowered your gun when the boy turned on his heels. You watched him run across the thin patch of grass and disappear amongst the tin roofs. Escobar had recruited spotters in every corner of this city, and it boggled your mind to consider the number of possible sicarios that were being groomed that way, but at this stage, he was just a boy. You guessed Javi had thought the same in the scene you had arrived at, even if it meant Corrales had got away – there was no sign of him in the narrow streets below.
Javier still hadn’t seen you from your position above him. You had a birds-eye view of the man who usually drove you insane with his quips, now looking more vulnerable than you had ever seen him. The battle that had been fought in his mind was clearly feeding into his body language – he leant against the wall with a look of defeat on his face, but stood straight, as though he was firm in the choice he had made only seconds earlier. It felt almost wrong to observe him like this, to be privy to his turmoil, but you couldn’t tear yourself away from the sight either.
He was out of breath from the chase, as were you. His chest was heaving with the effort of regulating his breathing. Those fucking cigarettes, Peña, you scolded him silently, but you couldn’t help but feel enraptured by the way he was panting so loudly you could hear him even meters above you. The way he swore went straight to your core – the sounds he was making mixed with the view you had of him, entirely to yourself for once, made you want to hold on to the brick and mortar around you, too. His dark curls stuck to his forehead as beads of sweat were running down his neck towards the valley of his chest that you were more than familiar with thanks to his penchant for leaving the top three buttons of his shirt undone even in your shared work space – ‘are you actually capable of dressing appropriately?’ you had snapped at him one morning as he strolled over to his desk wearing a white button-up that offered an uninhibited view of his sternum as he let his yellow aviator sunglasses dangle from a button. You had been met with a smirk and a comment from Javi about how the Colombian heat and your high-pressure DEA work had clearly led to you needing some release of the physical kind if you were ogling him.
At the time you had told him to shut up and leave the 1970s wardrobe behind, earning you a chuckle from Murphy, returning to your work without allowing your face to fall at his comment.
Now, you could see his point as you struggled to tear yourself away from staring at the man trying to re-gain his composure, wondering what it would feel like to not look down onto him like you were at this moment, but up at him, down on your knees as he panted, ready to fall apart much the same way he was now.
Whilst you felt a delicious kind of tension spread all over your body at that thought, another feeling crept up inside of you. A feeling of empathy for his pain, which appeared to peak at this very moment, a moment that he thought he could allow himself in solitude. You understood some of what he was going through, but clearly had had no idea what years chasing Escobar meant, only nearing your first anniversary of transferring to Colombia. Mingled with your physical response to Javier Peña pressed against the side of the building, was a sadness for him, and trepidation for what he would have to face back at the embassy at the inevitable debriefing of today’s operation. As ridiculous as it sounded, he would have to defend making this split-second decision of not shooting a kid in order to arrest a sicario. You might be accused of being cynical, but you knew that ensuring a child’s life was saved today would not cause any of the stiff men in suits to relent in criticising him any less for ultimately letting one of your biggest chances at getting close to Escobar slip from the DEA’s grasp. Peña was already a thorn in their side and took a lot of the heat.
By the time he was collecting himself, as the walls you recognised so well went back up in front of his eyes, you had already decided to take some of that heat today.
You also knew that he would not appreciate it one bit.
///
Javi didn’t find you by your desk, which was strange enough given your irritating habit of not going home until all paperwork was done, checked and double-checked. But nothing about what had happened in the last half hour had made any sense to him. Javier Peña didn’t exactly have a wide range of emotional responses, and right now anger overtook the confusion that you had caused with your spiel in front of the big wigs. You were such a stickler for the rules, lying to your superiors was not something he could easily reconcile with the way you had conducted your work alongside him since you arrived nearly, what, a year ago? So what had you tried to do? Lying had not benefited you one bit, and he could not understand your reasoning. He didn’t dwell on the thought as he marched outside to the employee parking lot.
He found you just about to get into your car, stacks of papers and folders clutched to your chest – another anomaly, you were usually extremely outspoken about your view that official documentation should not leave the confines of the embassy.
‘Hey - what the fuck was that in there?’ he shouted, not caring for the half a dozen or so of embassy workers who had stepped outside for a cigarette and now halted their conversation. Then again, Agent Peña losing his temper was not exactly a rare occurrence and he never cared of what people thought about his outbursts. His full attention was on you as he closed in on the spot at the far end of the lot.
You had stilled, key in the lock of the car door, but had not turned around to face him. He noticed how your shoulder had sagged, whilst your head lifted slightly, your gaze appearing to turn upwards to the dull, thick afternoon sky of Bogotá.
‘You wanna explain to me, what you were playing at? You were nowhere near Corrales, I was behind him the entire time…And since when do you lie to Messina? Thinkin’ it’d make you look like a big shot, eh? Tough girl who ran after the big bad guy?’
‘Peña, I really don’t feel like doing this right now…’ you started, but you still weren’t facing him and trailed off mid-sentence. He grabbed your shoulder and rounded on you, but you continued to unlock your car, throwing the case files across onto the passenger seat alongside your blazer jacket. You held on to the door of your car, motioning to get inside. He couldn’t believe you thought you could just leave.
‘Hey! Answer me… partner’, he spat the last word, feeling betrayed by virtue of you having lied without checking with him first, even if he still could not see why you had chosen to claim his biggest fuck up of the last couple of months for yourself.
You finally turned to face him, exhaling slowly but noisily. He knew you were bracing yourself for a confrontation. The two of you had had plenty of them already in the short time you had worked alongside each other. Javier carefully reminded himself not to steal a glance at the way the thin material of your blouse was fluttering across your torso as a gust of wind enveloped the two of you, revealing the edge of a light pink bra underneath.
But as he focused all of his energy on staring at you, he noticed how you clearly wanted to get out of the conversation, as evidenced by the lack of eye contact from your side. You usually had no problem holding your own in a verbal match – your quick wit always cooking up a retort immediately whilst you kept an unwavering glare on your face– a craft honed by years of having to prove yourself to male colleagues climbing up the ranks of the DEA, he imagined. As you eventually met his stare now, your face showed the same resolute strength you had demonstrated time and time again since you strolled into the office on your first day, your mouth drawn into a straight, unwavering line.
But your eyes, as they bore into Javi’s, appeared to betray the bravado the rest of your body was trying to convey. He was still reeling from what had unfolded at the meeting and your complete change of demeanour and was trying to make sense of your expression.
After a few seconds that felt more intense than any of your previous interactions, he could only detect that something within you was threatening to boil over and spill out of you for him to see – and he got the sense that you were afraid of that possibility. Once again, anger took over as Javi sought to take control of the moment. He caged you in between your car and himself, one hand roughly closing the car door whilst the other grasped the roof. The two of you were so close he could smell your perfume, remnants of which inexplicably had survived a chase on foot in the Colombian heat. You pressed yourself as far against your car as you were able to, squirming away from him, but as he towered over you and moved so close your noses were almost touching, he noted how your breath hitched. He filed the sound away for later, re-focusing on getting an answer out of you as he whispered menacingly:
‘You owe me a fucking explanation for the little stunt you pulled in there – you weren’t even fucking there when Sure Shot got away, why make up this story?’
You closed your eyes for a second and something shifted – and, as you spoke, the cadence of your voice reminded him of a teacher used to dealing with difficult teenagers and he was astounded at how calm you suddenly were:
‘I saw exactly what happened, ok? The boy. I was on a roof just above the clearing. I had the shot, and I didn’t take it either. I’m sorry I didn’t have your back, but he was, what, maybe 6?’
Javi was stunned. He was sure he had been alone until he had rounded the street corner and met you coming out of one of the houses. He’d had no idea you had seen him. He started stuttering, the puzzle pieces only very slowly coming together for him, but he became uncomfortable with the silence between the two of you:
‘Glad you didn’t… you couldn’t have… shouldn’t have…’ he trailed off, averting his gaze momentarily and staring across the parking lot. You could see the turmoil rising in him again, so attempted to bring the conversation to a quick end, giving him an out from having to show his vulnerable side to you, which you were positive he’d hate more than anything.
‘We’ve had a hard, long, day, Peña - just felt like this way we’d get out of the meeting sooner. Rookie Agent messing up just goes down easier than attempting to get the show ponies in ties to relate to an impossible moral dilemma faced by someone in the field, don’t you think? Plus, it’s less paperwork this way, which I’m gonna finish at hom-…’ Once again, you stopped mid-sentence as Javi watched you glance at the stack of papers on the passenger seat behind you and heard you sigh out loud. As he followed your gaze you managed to slip out from underneath him, marching back to the embassy building.
//////
You briefly thanked your lucky stars for the missing file as you headed away from your car back inside, walking as fast as your heels would carry you, grateful for a brief respite from the intensity of Javi’s presence. You were out here doing the man a favour and whilst you had expected him to be so thrown by your statement to Messina that he wouldn’t be able to intervene at the time, but would surely question you at a later stage, you really didn’t fancy to continue that confrontation in front of the embassy workers, heading for one of the filing rooms in the basement of the building and hoping that Javi would just let it go for today.
The cool darkness of the room was a welcoming shift to the stifling heat outside, though you suspected the warmth that had spread across your face and down your chest, all the way down to your thighs, had more to do with the position Javier had manoeuvred you into by your car. You tried to take some steadying breaths as you opened the filing cabinet containing the info on Corrales that had been filed away months ago when the prospect of catching him had been a distant possibility.
As you grabbed the file and turned around, you laughed to yourself upon hearing the door open. This man is like a dog with a bone, did you really think you could escape him that easily?
‘You are not leaving here before I get an explanation’ Javi announced. And sure enough, he closed the door behind him and slowly stalked towards you, again threatening to cage you in, this time in a much more confined space.
You briefly considered if you would actually mind.
Your inner voice cautioned you for the thought and you forced your eyes to meet Javier’s. His expression was stern, but just as you had glimpsed from your periphery across the large conference table at the meeting, his confusion was clearly visible beneath his ire. You felt something like resignation in you as you placed the file on the cabinet behind you and crossed your arms defensively, protectively, across your torso.
‘Ok Peña, did you really want to explain the situation to Messina? What happened with the boy? What choice you were left with?’ At this, Javi averted his gaze and stared at the floor. Your chest filled with sadness for him and once again you felt like you were intruding on something you shouldn’t witness. He said nothing, so you continued:
‘I’m sorry, but from what I saw, this was not a memory you wanted to re-live in front of an audience. Stechner would have a field day berating you for playing the knight in shining armour and you…you deserve a fucking break, Javi…I just wanted to…’
Javi snapped his head back towards you as the range of emotions you had only glimpsed at various points throughout the day seemed to dash across his face like a film reel in quick succession –surprise, anger, confusion, desperation, and something that seemed like…astonishment, before he finally spoke. He was now so close to you that you could smell the cigarette he had sneaked in before the meeting.
‘You…’ was all he said and words failed you as he took two quick strides towards you and pressed himself against you. Once again you were trapped by him, but this time he made sure you could not slip away. He curled one arm around your lower back as his other moved up to the side of your face, fingers gripping your hair and his thumb tilting your chin upwards. Your eyes met his and you could swear his irises turned black moments before his lips crashed down onto yours.
It was like he had knocked the air out of you. You grasped the cabinet behind you to steady yourself, not daring to reach out towards him as he kissed you. Hard.
Your mouths separated for a moment as you both caught your breath. Javi’s hand was still gripping your hair and the back of your head as he spoke to you in a voice so menacingly low you felt goosebumps rise on your skin:
‘I don’t need …. you to fight my – fucking- battles, ... for me’ - you could practically feel the frustration of the day rolling off him, knowing that you were not the only source of it, but the one he could do something about. It drove you fucking wild that he couldn’t get his words out properly.
‘I know that, I just…wanted to help’. You hated how small your voice sounded as you spoke to the man that had annoyed you like none other in your career, and god, had you worked with some difficult ones. Right now, though, all you could think of was the way his biceps felt against you, threatening to burst the seams of the suit you knew he absolutely detested wearing.
He kissed you again - slower this time, but not relenting in urgency as he pushed you further into the cabinet behind you, the sound of the metal screeching across the floor accompanying the sounds of low panting and moaning the two of you were producing. You were praying nobody would enter the room as Javi spoke again:
‘You are… so.. fuck…. absolutely fucking…’. he still didn’t finish his sentence and you did not receive more clarification of what he was thinking as he started to growl in Spanish instead and began to run his tongue across your lower lip, asking for a taste of you. He pressed himself against you so hard he must have been able to feel your now hardened nipples against his chest. You allowed him to slip his tongue in, your mouths exploring one another, the sensation seeming to unwind the stress of the day that made you feel like an elastic band ready to snap.
Your arousal was starting to pool in your underwear. A moan escaped your lips as he spread his large hand across the small of your back, fingers reaching the side of your waist and squeezing you tight.
You threw your arms around his neck then and lodged your fingers in his dark curls, just as you had wanted to do when you had watched him from the roof earlier that day. You wrapped an ankle around his in an effort to shift one of his thighs between your legs to gain some relief at your core, noting how he chuckled. You did not realise that this reminded him of how he had watched you similarly squirming under the table in the meeting with Messina and wrapping your pretty heels around the cold metal of the feet of the office chair. Was he… smirking?, you thought as he finally managed to utter a complete sentence:
‘’You wanna give me a break, huh, gorgeous girl? Fuck.’ Javi panted, and the way he cursed cast your mind back to the scene you had found him in earlier that day, causing you to take a steadying breath before you responded:
‘Yes, Javi… I saw what happened today, and you deserve it. Just wanted to make it better’, you responded and looked up at him, realising that you were in fact biting your lip. Christ. You dimly heard that inner voice again, admonishing you for such impulsive, unprofessional, and frankly dangerous behaviour, but Javier Peña’s scent and the way he looked at you took center stage and filled your senses as you pressed your throbbing cunt against his leg in an effort to find some relief. You ran your hands across his shoulders, god he was so…broad, you thought to yourself as you swept your fingers underneath his jacket, lightly scratching your nails down his back as it landed on the floor behind him. You could hardly believe yourself as you lowered yourself down onto your knees in front of him:
‘Just let me make it better, Javi, yeah? Please.’
His silence, eyes widened and mouth slightly open in awe, told you Javi was as equally stunned by your actions. His thumb gently stroked your cheek with a tenderness you had never seen in him as he found his words again:
‘- Hermosa - You sure you want this? I know this job is…. I know how important it is to you…and you’ve already put yourself out there for me. We can still stop and forget this ever happened, nobody will ever know and I won’t judge you either. Won’t mention it once.’
You softened at his consideration for your integrity, how well he knew what your work meant to you. But you were aching for him at this point, needing some release just as much as you knew he did. You could hear the lust coating your voice as you whispered to him:
‘Yes, I am sure, Javier. I promise.’ Your hands moved lower slowly, lightly caressing the ass you had stolen jealous glances at increasingly often as he strolled around the office, shamelessly bending over desks as he flirted with just about every woman in the embassy. It was that Peña that you wanted to see now as you firmly placed your hands on his hips and gave him a seductive smile, biting your lower lip again. You hoped that he understood how you were dropping your walls for him.
It had the desired effect, as Javi’s gaze darkened once again and he smoothed your hair with one hand, the other reaching for his zipper and pulling out his already hard cock.
You tried to hide it, but a small gasp left your lips at the sight of him. He was fucking beautiful. And fucking huge. You briefly questioned whether you had bitten of more than you could chew, but at the same time your mouth watered at the sight of him, pre-cum glistening on his tip.
The guttural noise he made as you swirled your tongue around his cock made you dizzy. Your need to hear it again surpassed all concerns of somebody hearing the both of you as you wrapped your lips around as much of him as you could manage.
‘Oh fuck, yeah, baby… feels so good, keep doing that’, Javi stuttered as you enveloped him and started moving your head back and forth. You hummed in response. He tasted divine, musky and salty. You couldn’t get enough of him as you tested how far back down your throat you could take him.
Javi was still showering you with praise, his hand never leaving the side your head as he guided you.
‘You’ve no idea how often I’ve thought about you sucking my cock like this, hermosa. So pretty. So fucking good for me.’ Javier tried to commit the image of you on your knees to memory, he knew seeing you lose your bravado for him, only him, was a rare sight, and it turned him on to no end. He had felt vulnerable more than once today, partly due to your decision to protect him in front of your bosses, and whilst he still could not process that part, watching you underneath him with your pretty lips round his mouth made him feel like he was slowly clawing back some control.
His words spurred you on further as you started sucking his cock, feeling pride swell in you as you looked up at him, exactly how you had imagined from that dirty rooftop in MedellÍn only hours before. But as much as you wanted to continue watching what you did to him, your own arousal was starting to get to you, the need to feel pressure between your legs almost unbearable. As you closed your eyes, you moved your hand down and underneath your skirt, drawing circles around your neglected clit.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Javier.
‘Shit, look at you all needy baby. But as much as I would love to cum in your mouth right now, you’ve done enough for today. Time to return the favour. Open your eyes’, he commanded.
You did as he asked, catching your breath as he slowed down your movements and again stroked your face gently, looking down at you through hooded eyes before helping you up by your elbows and hoisting you onto the cabinet, sliding the papers you had come to retrieve to the floor.
Javi hiked your skirt up your hips, revealing a pair of panties matching the bra he had sneaked a look at in the parking lot earlier. He pushed them to the side as he motioned for you to lie down flat and moved two of his fingers along your folds, leaning over you as he did.
‘Fuck, look at this pretty pussy, already so wet. This all for me, huh?’ he cooed as his broad form towered over you, his deep voice right next to your ear sending shivers down your entire body. His fingers felt heavenly on you, finally applying the pressure you had desired all day. He nibbled at your earlobe and kissed the side of your neck as he continued to pleasure you.
‘Ahh, Javi, fuck … yes. All for… all for you.’
Your moans grew louder, causing Javi to place his free hand lightly over your mouth.
‘Shhh, hermosa. Don’t want anyone to hear us now, do we?’
You quickly shook your head, struggling to keep your eyes from rolling into the back of your head as Javi added the calloused pad of his thumb, rubbing your clit before he entered the two fingers that had been applying pressure to your entire core inside of you.
‘No, no …. I’ll be quiet. Just… don’t stop, Javi, please.’
He grinned at you proudly. ‘Have no intention of stopping, believe me. Gonna cum for me, yeah? Come on now baby, come on…’
Your name fell from his lips as you arched your back off the cabinet, tits pressing into his firm chest. You reciprocated, crying out his name as quietly as you could as you came:
‘Yes, Javi, fuck yes. Oh God, Javi, Javi.’
You rode out your high on his fingers, seeing stars and struggling to catch your breath. Fuck, he had only used his fingers, you thought as your eyes re-focused, finding his still glazed over with lust.
‘So beautiful for me, baby. That’s it, good fucking girl. You deserve it. Been so good to me today’. The words tumbled from Javi’s lips as he marvelled at the form of you underneath him, coming apart so completely.
He was surprised when you giggled.
‘What’s so funny, partner?’ he teased, though he couldn’t hide the confusion that painted his face slightly. You couldn’t help but laugh at the crack in his usually so stoney façade.
‘Peña, if I knew that this is how you were going to repay favours in the workplace, I would have been more cooperative a long time ago. Now will you please fuck me.
Javi’s eyes widened briefly at your candour, before returning to a hard, stern look that was unlike anything you had ever seen on him.
It made you take a deep breath, excitedly bracing yourself for what was to come.
‘Oh, you don’ have to ask me twice, baby. Gonna give you what you deserve now, com ’ere.’ His Texan drawl came through as he dragged you towards him and lined his cock up with your entrance, dragging your slick all over his still stiff cock. He again questioned if it was a case of cosmic synchronicity when you interlocked your ankles behind his back, feeling the sweet sting of your heels on his skin.
He roughly opened up the buttons of the blouse he had been staring at all day, revealing your gorgeous tits to him as he started to push inside you. He groaned and began pinching your nipples, the sensation shooting sparks all the way across your body.
‘Christ, look at you. Taking me so well.’ He stilled for a moment inside you to let you get used to him, lowering his mouth to your other nipple, sucking and licking it as he let you feel every ridge and curve of his cock inside of you.
‘Javi, please…’. You couldn’t manage more as he filled you completely.
‘So impatient. Not like ya at all…you ready for me?’ he asked as his brown eyes peered up at you in a way that once again reminded you of the private Javier Peña you thought he would never allow you to witness voluntarily.
‘JAVI – I swear if you don’t start…’ you hissed as loudly as you dared, which was met with a chuckle by him as he almost dragged out of you again before slamming right back in.
You expected him to set a fast pace, after all the teasing the two of you had engaged in, but Javi fucked you slow and hard. It was mind-blowing, feeling him so deeply inside of you as he savoured the feeling of you around him.
‘God, you’re so fucking tight baby. Knew I wanted to fuck this pussy from the first day you walked in here. –D-Drive me absolutely crazy… always sticking to the rules. Bend them today for me though, didn’t ya? Huh? If you think I needed your pity ‘m gonna show you what I can do for you.’
You knew he needed this boost to his ego, and whilst you normally would try to knock him down a few pegs, with the way he was pushing so deep into you that you could feel your second orgasm rising, you really did not care. All you wanted was for him not to stop.
‘Yes, Javi, yes. Give it to me, please. Te sientes muy bien, mierda.‘
Javier actually growled. He had never heard you speak like this, much less in Spanish and it made him speed up. He lifted himself up slightly, wanting to watch what he did to you. You were absolutely stunning like this underneath him, and somewhere in the depth of his mind he worried about how much he wanted to have you like this again, over and over.
‘That’s it, can you cum again for me, baby? Cum all over my cock like you deserve it for covering for me today huh? Let go, querida.’
The pet name made you topple over the edge, your orgasm crashing through your entire body once more. You threw an arm across your mouth and bit down onto your own skin to stop you from screaming, finding Javi’s eyes as he appeared completely enchanted by the sight of you.
God, you wanted to see that look on him again, you realised as you came down from a high more intense than you could have imagined.
His thrusts were getting more erratic now, and it filled you with giddy anticipation once again. He steadied himself on the surface next to you with one hand, the other wrapping around the back of your neck for leverage as he stared at you intently.
‘Where do you want me to…. ‘m so close. Not gonna last much longer after seeing you like that.’
You beamed at him as you spoke:
‘Inside me, Javi please.’
Once again his mouth went slack.
‘Fuck, you sure, baby? I mean I’m clean but…’
‘Me, too. And I’m on something. Please, Javi… need you to fill me up.’ Your mouth wrapped around the thumb of the hand he had secured to your neck at this, and you sucked and bit down on him to drive your point home.
Javi couldn’t hold on any longer. With a few more thrusts he came, breaking eye contact briefly to turn his head upwards, once again reminding you of the way he had turned his gaze towards the sky as he was pressed against the dirty wall in MedellÍn earlier. Except this time he looked more serene, blissed out, relieved. He looked fucking gorgeous.
You felt you could get into trouble here.
You both steadied your breathing slowly, sharing a long kiss before smiling at each other, both finding the humour in what had just occurred between the two of you after a year of bickering and annoying the hell out of each other. It had provided a brief crack of light shining through the tense mood of one of the especially shitty days of your job.
You both quickly got dressed, really not wanting to tempt fate any further and be found out by one of your co-workers in a compromising position.
As you smoothed down your skirt and picked up the stack of papers from the floor, Javi rounded on you from behind, pulling one arm across your stomach and smoothing out your hair with the other. You felt shivers once more as he whispered in your ear:
‘You really are gonna finish those reports at home tonight, aren’t you?’, he chuckled.
‘Well.. yes, it needs to be done by tomorrow morning’ you confirmed, sounding slightly embarrassed as you expected him to berate you for your discipline. But when he hummed just below your ear, you allowed a smile to dance across your face as you looked at him over your shoulder. ‘You have a glass of whisky and relax, Javi. I’ll take care of this for today.’
‘Such a hard worker- thanks, partner’ he responded with a grin. But when he saw your face look up at him in quiet resignation at his sarcastic response, his face fell and he slowly spun you around. He looked almost shy as he ran his fingers up and down your back.
He whispered so quietly you wouldn’t have been sure he was speaking if it wasn’t for his lips move:
‘I mean it, I…. thank you. Not just for what we just did here. I mean…for today, for…’ he was clearly struggling for words, so you decided to put him out of his misery:
‘Don’t mention it. I knew what I was doing. And you did the right thing, too. We’ll get him. Eventually’
The sight of a grateful Javier Peña that was now facing you tugged at something deep inside you. You didn’t think you had ever seen him speechless so many times in one day. That, coupled with what he did next, would make it very hard to focus on writing your report tonight.
Javier closed the distance between you and kissed you gently. His forehead touched yours as he cleared his throat, maybe because this level of intimacy was just as new to him, but when he finally spoke he now sounded more self-assured and genuine:
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
rating: Explicit (18+ only!)
warnings: Angst!/fluff/smut (fingering). Jackson Joel. General theme of reader being in an abusive relationship/marriage with OC - reader's bruises are mentioned; References to (reader's husband's) alcoholism and reader's disordered eating - Joel feeds reader; Secret relationship/affair. Please let me know if I’ve missed any!
word count: 2.2 k
summary: Your time with Joel had been an escape, a place for you to rest and be free from the terrors exerted on your body and mind. But you know things must come to an end, and have accepted what this might mean for you. What you don't yet know is that Joel has his own interpretation of 'ending things'.
A/N: This is well truly me finally dipping my toes into writing again! Angst is not a genre I feel too confident in, but I’ve had a Jackson Joel story like this in the back of my head for so long, so I've appreciated this challenge so much. By no means my personal best, but getting it done, and writing about these topics, has been very important to me, so I am extremely grateful to @iamasaddie for organising this writing challenge, giving me a prompt and a deadline, which I desperately needed, and @noxturnalpascal for pointing me this way. Not greatly edited at all, nor beta'd, so please let me know your thoughts.
Just one moment could be the end of everything, and you chuckle internally at the uncertainty of whether that is a good or a bad thing.
Just one shift in your husband’s pattern of behavior, one moment of not tolerating staying at home watching crappy TV and instead venturing out and joining the majority of Jackson’s population for movie night at the community center.
One peek inside the kitchen area, most likely for some of Tommy’s home-brewed whisky and it could all be out in the open. At the same time as panic rises within you at the thought of a confrontation, you feel an almost callous sense of relief. This may be the one fit of rage you would not survive, but at least it would be over.
Because it wouldn’t take more than a second for him to work out that the conversation you and Joel are having right now is anything but innocent, though to any of the residents, Joel is simply keeping you company as you make mountains of guacamole, having volunteered to help with snacks in order to get out of the house.
You’re cutting the avocado meticulously, slowly, just like you do at home - an act of domesticity that always calms you as you imagine blending into your surroundings, a strategy which seems to make your husband view you as part of the furnishing at home, and grants you momentary relief from his tirades and threats as you meekly provide for him.
Sometimes, in your stronger moments, you ruminate on the knife in your hands.
Right now, you congratulate yourself on not having had even just one taste, the control of what you eat a shred of willpower you had carved out in your life.
Joel’s voice pulls you from your thoughts:
‘How’s your week been? Not seen you around much.’
You immediately sense the implication of his words.
‘ ‘s been fine. Busy.’ you mumble as you turn to place the bowl of food on the table behind you, but Joel stops you, placing a warm hand on your elbow as he shoots a look through the window above the door of the kitchen. He rises from where he was perched on the counter and his broad form covers the window. He slides his hand to your waist and grips you lightly, his deep brown eyes boring into yours. The warmth of his touch reassures you, but you can’t help to check the door for any potential intruders.
‘I’ve missed you’ Joel says matter-of-factly. You love this about him, the brevity and clarity of his words, devoid of any attempt to manipulate you. He knows how much to say to you, and when to stop and give you space. Usually, it’s this freedom that being with him allows your mind which then restores feeling to your body, too. It’s why since that first night patrol you shared with Joel, you had gone back to him every time the opportunity presented itself, for clandestine meetings at his house when Ellie was on patrol or out with her friends, and your husband so drunk or high he would be too incapacitated to exert his usual torment.
But you knew it wouldn’t last. You had given up hope for things to go your way long before you had made it to Jackson, safe from the horrors of the world following the outbreak, but not from those inside your own four walls.
Joel is grabbing the bowl from your hands and placing it down next to you before taking your hand into his, tugging you towards him. You are light-headed, your breath hitching when you feel his breath on your neck as he takes a step closer to you. Fear rises in you, your chest tightening at the lack of privacy the two of you have right now.
‘Joel, I… someone could…’
Joel takes another look over his shoulder, seemingly unperturbed when he hears the sound of gunfire on the screen and jeering from the Jackson crowd.
‘Shh, ‘s okay, darlin’. Jus’ need a moment with you.’
His hand on your waist slides round your back and digs into your skin as he walks you backwards towards the counter. He kisses you - hurriedly, but long enough that you feel a pinch of what you dare to believe is desperation on his side. You can feel the cool sting of his metal belt buckle against your stomach as your shirt rides up slightly. You know Joel can see your lip quivering.
‘Y’alright?’ he asks softly.
‘Yeah, I…, I just…’ you stutter, blinking away tears.
Your head is beginning to spin now, fear of being exposed and the weight of everything starting to overwhelm you. You had forgotten when you last ate. You hold onto Joel’s shoulders to steady yourself, quickly kissing him because you can’t help wanting to feel his lips again, but immediately have to take some slow breaths.
You close your eyes as the words tumble from your lips, mixing with Joel’s:
‘I don’t think we can go on like this’
- ‘When’s the last time you ate?’
You both freeze, a look of hurt flickering across Joel’s features for only a second before he gazes down at you with calm determination as he lowers his voice:
‘Right. But when did you last eat?’ He cups your cheek in his hand.With anyone but Joel, you’d start to shut down when the grip on your face becomes firmer. But with him, you give in to his touch further.
‘I don’t know, Joel. Been busy’ you lie. Appetite seemed to have departed days ago.
‘Well, have something. Now.’ Joel utters as he slides the bowl of guacamole across the steel counter with a screech. His other hand doesn’t leave your face as he grabs a bowl of tortilla chips and dips one into the smooth, fresh guacamole.
‘Joel’ you say, laughing noiselessly when he lifts the chip in front of your mouth. His eyes bore into you once again, it’s clear he’s not taking no for an answer. You open your mouth and allow him to slip the chip between your lips. You chew awkwardly at first, but soon your taste buds respond to the flavors, the different elements of your mother’s recipe adding a sense of nostalgia. You try to hold back tears but fail, one lone tear running down your cheek. Joel wipes it away with his thumb as he grabs another chip.
‘And again’ he whispers as he continues to feed you.
You do as he says, allowing the feeling of satiation to grow within you as you trust Joel to keep a lookout. When he does look at you, you can see your sadness reflected in him, though he seems to want to stay strong when he speaks:
‘Just keep eating. Focus on how it tastes, hon. Stay with it, stay with me. You’re safe right now, you’re alive.’
‘Not much longer if he finds out about us, Joel. It’s gonna happen, I can tell.’
A dark look comes across Joel’s face. For the briefest of moments, you fear it is directed at you. He moves the food out of the way as he wraps you up in his arms. You smell his cologne and the scent of him, so different from the odor of alcohol and lack of hygiene emanating from your husband.
Joel is kissing you again, tracing his lips down your neck and collarbone, removing your shirt from your shoulders. Your eyes are trained on the door when you notice him freeze.
You realize he has spotted the bruise on your arm.
‘Did he do this?’ Joel all but growls.
The way you rest your head against his is the only confirmation you feel able to give at this moment. You notice the way his hands have balled into fists when you open your eyes.
‘ ‘m gonna kill him’.
You smile sadly as you place your hands over Joel’s, clenched tightly, searching for his lips in an effort to appease him. You’ve heard rumors of what Joel is capable of, of his activities prior to arriving in Jackson. But hopelessness has seeped into your bones so much that you never consider him to be serious. Plus, he has Ellie now, a reason to stick around and not risk anything that would take him away from her.
‘Please stop talking like that, Joel. I’ll be alright. But I can’t keep doing this to you. You don’t need to fight my battles.’
‘ ‘s hardly a fair fight’ Joel hisses before pressing his lips to yours again, and not before long he is running his tongue across the seam of your lips. You allow him entry and he kisses you with an urgency you haven’t experienced from him before.
‘Just stay with me for a bit more. Let me take care of you’ he whispers when you separate to catch your breath. His hand is tracing up your thigh, making you shiver when he reaches underneath your skirt and begins to stroke your clit through your lace panties. You can’t tell yourself you hadn’t dug out your favorite, most well-preserved pair of lace in the hope of seeing him tonight.
Joel knows you’re short on time, so simply pulls the material to the side. Like muscle memory, his calloused fingers immediately find where you need him most, and he hums when he feels how wet you are for him already.
He draws small circles with his thumb, sending shockwaves all along your body. You allow your eyes to close, deciding to submit to the feeling entirely. If this is the end, you’re going to savor every second with him.
Joel pushes against you, and you can feel his cock hardening against you. But you know he will not insist on having you for his own pleasure before taking care of you. You smile when words of praise fall from his lips precisely at this moment.
‘So beautiful like this, so beautiful. That’s it, let yourself go, darlin, ‘m here.’
You gasp at his words as your orgasm blossoms in your core. His voice sounds far away. You feel like you’re floating, not taking his words in fully:
‘Gonna end it, baby, don’t you worry. I got you.’
Tears are now freely running down your face as you thank the stars for at least granting you these last few months with Joel. He places his cheek next to yours, his nose rubbing against the shell of your ear as he begs you to let him hear you come. When you are reduced to nothing but gasps, he moves two of his thick fingers slowly inside you, filling you just at the right moment.
You collapse against his shoulder when wave after wave of your orgasm overcomes you, washing away all anguish and fear, Joel’s body like an anchor, a taste of a life you could have had, where you spend days together freely, without a constant sense of helplessness or shame, wrapped up in each other with none of the tension that has accompanied your time together so far. A sob escapes you and Joel wraps an arm around you to hold you up as he shushes you with his head on top of yours, his voice drifting over you like a soft blanket.
‘...got you, always got you. There’ll be no more of it.’
You try to gather strength at his words, standing up and wiping your tears as you try to face your final moments together.
‘I’ll never regret what we did, Joel. Thank you for making me feel alive for a while. Whatever happens, it wasn’t your fau-...’
Joel cuts you off with a shake of his head. He runs his hands through your hair before holding the back of your head and placing his forehead to yours. You are crying again, making a mental note to splash some water on your face before you head outside again.
‘I’ll see you in a few days, ok? Just… act normal, head into town every day at least, speak to people. When you get the news, you gotta act shocked, and we have to be careful about seeing each other for a while, ok? Can you wait just a little more, darlin’ ?’
You’re utterly confused. You understand the need to keep your affair under wraps, and not let your emotions show when you will inevitably run into Joel around town. But your head is starting to spin again trying to work out what news you will hear in the next few days.
Joel is picking up the bowl of chips and guacamole and hands them to you. You take them, slowly, as he pulls on his jacket and runs a hand through his hair.
‘See you soon. Stay safe until then, okay?’ Joel’s voice seems to break as he kisses you once more.
‘Where are you going?’ you ask him, blinking as you try to understand his abrupt manner. You guess he is trying to rip the plaster off quickly.
‘Going to speak to Tommy about changing my spot on the patrol rota.’
‘What?’ you thought Joel had understood the need to end this. ‘Joel, we can’t keep doing this… And I’m not on the rota this week.’
Joel has already half turned away from you, staring at a spot on the floor. He squeezes your hand one last time.
‘You’re not. But your husband is. I’m gonna ask Tommy to put me on with him.’
(I just love his chest in this gif, it makes me feral)
Inappropriate Waving
summary: Javi is adorable even when he’s railing you.
rating: E (18+!! This is smut. No y/n, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dirty talk, (1) spank, smut, and fluff, Javi is cute as fuck, reader understands Spanish and English)
pairing: Javi Gutierrez/f!reader
word count: 1k+
a/n: There’s a lot of Spanish with translations because, in my brain, I just figure that’s how he is when he’s lost in the sauce. I had it all double-checked by the love of my life, @juletheghoul, so it should be good! I love you Jules. This was inspired by a meme. Lmaooo This one goes out to @nicolethered. 😘
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!
Masterlist
You’re pretty sure Javi is determined to make you see god—he’s pounding into you from behind, punching into you so hard your moans are stuttering, arms shaking at holding yourself up from the blinding pleasure of him drilling into that spot that makes you lose your fucking mind.
The coil inside you is wound so tight you can taste the end, knowing you’re almost there, Javi grunting, his fingers digging into your hips hard.
“Quiero que te vengas, mi alma (I want you to come, my soul),” he grunts. “Dámelo. Suéltate, mi amor (Give it to me. Let go, my love).”
His words are like a siren’s song, the seductive rasp of the syllables becoming your undoing and sending you over the edge with a cry of his name—euphoria is coursing through your veins, hearing his thrusts get wetter from your release, the sounds of skin hitting skin, and Javi moaning as you clench around him.
“Eso es (That’s it),” he groans, “Estás tan mojadita y apretadita (you’re so wet and tight).”
He sounds absolutely wrecked, so drunk on your pussy, and you want to see him, want to see that look on his face at how good he feels. You’re panting as you look over your shoulder.
His head is thrown back, the long line of his gorgeous neck on display, a sheen of sweat on his beautiful golden skin. His curls are a mess, his eyes closed, mouth slack, continuing to piston into you.
The grip on your hips tightens as he looks forward, opening his eyes, seeing them glazed over in lust.
He smiles when he finds you looking, raising a hand to wave.
“Hi,” he rasps, still fucking into you.
A giggle bursts from your throat.
“You’re so fucking cute, Javi,” your words come out throaty and rough.
He grinds his hips, his hard cock moving slow and deep, letting you feel every ridge and vein, making your toes curl as you moan.
“Gracias (Thank you),” he beams, winking at you. “Eres divina (You are divine)—you feel so fucking good,” he groans, eyes closing for a moment, his hands squeezing the flesh of your ass. “¿Otra vez (Again)? You want another, mi amor?”
“No,” you gasp. “Wanna feel you,” you bite your lip.
His eyes are so dark not even a sliver of the chocolate brown you love remains.
“Sí (yes),” he nods.
You feel a large palm smack your ass, making you moan, Javi pulling out of you.
“Want you on your back, sí?” he says, easily flipping you over and spreading your thighs. His eyes lock on your glistening pussy, tongue peeking out to swipe along his bottom lip. He can’t help himself, ducking his head down to bury his face in your center, groaning as he licks up your slit.
“Javi,” you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair.
You can hear his enjoyment while his mouth works, licking and sucking all over your wet heat, making your back arch when he pulls your clit between his lips harshly.
“Fuck, Javi. Fuck, you’re gonna make me come again.”
He groans at your words, lighting something inside him that has him eating you out with fervor, feeling that pressure building at the base of your spine as his tongue and lips expertly work you over. Your legs are starting to tremble, muscles tightening, gasping when he presses two fingers inside of you. He crooks them, and a second later, you’re squeezing your eyes shut, fireworks dancing behind your eyelids, moaning his name as you come.
“Tan buena (So good),” Javi says when his head pops up. Your chest is heaving, feeling him crawl up your body while the pleasure works its way through your system. His lips press against yours, making you moan as he kisses you deeply, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him into you.
“Want you inside me,” you murmur into his mouth.
He braces himself on an arm while the other hand grasps his cock, pushing into you in one smooth thrust, both of you groaning as he stretches you open.
Your fingers are tangling in his hair, his hips moving in and out of you, starting slow, while he kisses you, his tongue sliding along yours, tasting every inch of your mouth. He picks up speed, hearing the rough sounds in his throat while he chases his high, going hard and fast, the pleasurable push and pull of his cock making your eyes roll back in your head.
You know he’s not going to last long, and you don’t care because it feels so fucking good—you love how he feels inside you, the way he fills you over and over again, his body pressed against yours, mouth devouring your own. You’re in heaven. Your orgasms have you feeling like you’re on cloud nine.
His rhythm gets jerky, his face moving to the crook of your shoulder, hearing him grunting, his breath fanning against your skin.
He pushes into you hard. “Te amo (I love you),” he groans, feeling the wet pulse as he comes deep inside your depths.
Javi collapses on top of you, panting, your fingers playing with his hair while you both come down from your highs.
He’s mumbling something that you can’t hear.
“Hmm?” you hum.
Lips touch your neck, Javi kissing your skin.
“Eres el amor de mi vida (You are the love of my life),” he said, the sound muffled.
You pulled him up to look at you, a lazy smile on his face, looking blissed out, you smiling back.
“You’re the love of my life,” you replied, kissing him.
He was mumbling again against your lips, causing you to break the kiss and meet his eyes. He was looking at you with such adoration it made you suck in a breath.
“What, baby?” You asked.
He gulped.
“¿Te casarías conmigo (Will you marry me)?” He rolled the question off his tongue. He repeated the question in English.
Your eyes went wide.
“Really?” You asked.
“Sí,” he nodded, eyes so big and round, seeing his love for you. “You would make me the happiest man on earth by marrying me. You’re my everything—mi vida (my life).”
Tears were pooling in your eyes, nodding your head, while you smiled brightly.
“Yes! Yes, I will!”
The smile he gave you was blinding the dimple in his cheek appearing as he laughed, crashing his mouth against yours.
Masterlist
Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!
Not sure how common this knowledge is, but I’d like to add that if you enclose a piece of text in quotation marks, Google will search for only the exact wording of it. So if you’re lucky enough to remember an exact quote, that’s also a powerful tool. I can’t count the number of obscure tumblr posts I’ve tracked down from screenshots with just those two techniques; I’m sure it’ll work for fic too.
hi, you. yeah im talking to you. You like my stuff from time to time and reblog once and a while, and I always recognize you in my notes. we’ve never talked, maybe you dont like to say much or you’re nervous or something. it’s okay, whatever it is.
I see you. you mean a lot to me. sometimes when I’m having a hard day, I’ll notice your name once again in my notifs and it makes me smile. im not kidding.
I don’t care if you’re a “ghost” follower or you send me asks all the time. i see you and I love you so much, genuinely and truly. you are really important to me.
a Joel Miller & his Darlin' drabble: Just Wanted To Hear Your Voice
Summary: You go for a night out and your minds wanders back to the man you share a home with. (Post Outbreak)
Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 1,245
Content Warning: allusions to smut, swearing, Joel & Darlin' being cuddle bugs
Author's Notes: this whole thing is courtesy of @iamasaddie & their prompt challenge. Thank you to @noxturnalpascal for being so sensible in their support and betaing this for me.
The need to socialize was something you’d not anticipated to ever feel again. After everything ended, normalcy became fight or flight and socializing for fun was a thing of the past. That is, until you and Joel had settled in Jackson. Being that you now no longer had to wonder where your next meal was coming from or had to keep looking over your shoulder for another threat, things that hadn’t held weight in years were starting to make their way back into your life.
“I’m goin’ out tonight.”, you said nonchalantly as you buttoned up your flannel shirt.
Looking up at your reflection, you caught Joel giving you a small smirk as he hoisted himself up from the bed.
He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you flush with his big middle.
“Goin’ out? With who?”, he said in a hushed tone, pressing kisses to your neck.
“Maria, Dajana, Lisbeth… the usual suspects.”
“Ah, ‘s a girls night out.”
“Yeah. ‘S why you’re not invited.”
Joel chuckled and playfully gave your ass a spank.
*****
When you’d gotten home from working in the kitchen, you’d quickly cleaned up and changed, nervously anticipating something that you’d long since given up on ever doing again. You ran down the stairs just as Joel walked in the door and saw you in a dress.
He let out a long, low whistle. “You sure you’re goin’ out, Darlin’?”
You smiled at him, did a spin to show off your outfit, and Joel licked his lips. He nodded his head at you, and crooned, “Get over here. Need a closer look.”
The clock on the wall read that you were already in danger of being late, so you shook your finger at him with a smile as you tried to pass him to get to the door. Despite his added weight, he was still quick enough to catch you.
“You behave tonight. And have fun.”, he said against your mouth between kisses.
“Can’t do both at the same time, Joel.”, you teased. Giving him one last kiss, you squirmed out of his grip and scampered out the door.
*****
You’d lost count of how many rounds your table had ordered at the Tipsy Bison, and you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. Feeling the alcohol dampen your senses in a euphoric way, you found yourself lost in thought over how the luxury of letting loose was now something you had.
The conversation at the table moved easily through different topics, starting tame with things like the weather and town events and then slipped into gossip, giggled between sips of beer and bouts of laughter. The subject of sex came up and you sat back with a wide grin as the women went back and forth over just about anything and everything that could potentially fall under the umbrella of sex. One had a complaint about their partner that they expressed in a hilarious anecdote, another regaled the table with a story about almost getting caught by her in-laws giving a blow job. Tears were in your eyes from laugher, and when it was your turn to speak, you paused, keenly aware that Joel’s sister-in-law was sitting at the table. Instead of sharing how Joel pulled you apart with almost surgical precision before he fucked you into oblivion, you settled for one of your favourite things about him.
“I love his voice. The way he talks.”, you smile, looking at your half full glass of beer with a small smile.
“Joel is not what I would a talkative man. You sure we’re talking about the same guy?”, Lisbeth teased.
“The man knows exactly what to say.”, you chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat up. Realizing that everyone at the table assumed you were referring exclusively to Joel’s dirty talk, you saved yourself the embarrassment of getting sentimental and stated, “He saves his daily word count for nocturnal activities.”
The knowing looks and nods around the table followed by agreement and similar sentiments allowed your mind to wander to Joel. Sure, his bedroom talk was just something else, but his voice - now that was what you loved. The non-verbal sounds he made: the grunts, the huffs, the chuckles, the sighs, the moans, the breaths, the whines, the whimpers, the growls, the hums…
You’d learned that Joel was more than the words he said long before you realized you loved him. Just the slight pitch change in a groan was enough to tell you it was safe to push or to retreat. Being allowed to get close enough to learn this about him was not just a point of pride, it was something you cherished. In turn, Joel could read you well enough to know if he could move forward or let you take the lead.
You were shaken from your thoughts by Dajana nudging you with a laugh.
“Daydreaming about that dick, huh?”
You laughed and agreed, not yet ready to delve into the depths of how bad you had it for Joel. “Speakin’ of – I’m gonna head out.”
The women all half-heartedly tried to get you to stay as they one by one all decided to head home. You bid them good night and paid your tab on the way out the door.
*****
“You’re home early, baby. Everything okay?”, Joel asked softly with brows furrowed as you walked in. He was sitting in the armchair in front of fire with a small knife and a little wooden giraffe he was carving in his hands.
You said nothing, keeping eye contact as you took off your jacket and walked towards him. He watched you, seeing the telltale haze of beer in your eyes and held his hand out for you. You took it and crawled onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his head against your chest. He wrapped his arms around your middle and held you close, letting out a content hum and your heart swelled. The rhythm of his breaths was even and soothing.
You held each other for an indeterminate period of time, each relishing in the other’s comfort and yet existing as one. The pleasant cocoon was paused as Joel moved his head and nudged his nose against your chin, silently asking for you to look at him.
When you did, he gave a soft smile that traveled to his eyes and his brought his hand to your cheek. “You okay?”
“Keep talking…”, you hummed in response.
Joel huffed a laugh and eyed you, “Darlin’… you’re home early an’awfully cuddly.”
You smiled and a soft giggle hovered in your throat as you closed your eyes.
“Come on, baby. Talk to me. Somethin’ happen or one of th – “
“I just wanted to hear your voice.”
Joel pulled back and looked up at you, confusion written on his face. His brows raised and the confusion melted into amusement.
“Darlin’, you’re drunk.”
You let a laugh out, echoing through the house like chimes. “Maybe, but I know I love you.”
As soon as the words left your mouth, you froze. You and Joel had never said it to one another. You felt Joel pull you into him again, coaxing your tense body to relax. The small sound he made in response, the pitch and tone and the timber, the way you felt the sound vibrate from him through to you more than you heard it… it was all you needed to know he loved you, too.
You had me from the first sentence! I love a man who is vocal in just the right moments ✨. The allusions to smut are so delicate, but then there’s so much depth to how you depict their relationship… 🫠
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
rating: Explicit (18+ only!)
warnings: Angst!/fluff/smut (fingering). Jackson Joel. General theme of reader being in an abusive relationship/marriage with OC - reader's bruises are mentioned; References to (reader's husband's) alcoholism and reader's disordered eating - Joel feeds reader; Secret relationship/affair. Please let me know if I’ve missed any!
word count: 2.2 k
summary: Your time with Joel had been an escape, a place for you to rest and be free from the terrors exerted on your body and mind. But you know things must come to an end, and have accepted what this might mean for you. What you don't yet know is that Joel has his own interpretation of 'ending things'.
A/N: This is well truly me finally dipping my toes into writing again! Angst is not a genre I feel too confident in, but I’ve had a Jackson Joel story like this in the back of my head for so long, so I've appreciated this challenge so much. By no means my personal best, but getting it done, and writing about these topics, has been very important to me, so I am extremely grateful to @iamasaddie for organising this writing challenge, giving me a prompt and a deadline, which I desperately needed, and @noxturnalpascal for pointing me this way. Not greatly edited at all, nor beta'd, so please let me know your thoughts.
Just one moment could be the end of everything, and you chuckle internally at the uncertainty of whether that is a good or a bad thing.
Just one shift in your husband’s pattern of behavior, one moment of not tolerating staying at home watching crappy TV and instead venturing out and joining the majority of Jackson’s population for movie night at the community center.
One peek inside the kitchen area, most likely for some of Tommy’s home-brewed whisky and it could all be out in the open. At the same time as panic rises within you at the thought of a confrontation, you feel an almost callous sense of relief. This may be the one fit of rage you would not survive, but at least it would be over.
Because it wouldn’t take more than a second for him to work out that the conversation you and Joel are having right now is anything but innocent, though to any of the residents, Joel is simply keeping you company as you make mountains of guacamole, having volunteered to help with snacks in order to get out of the house.
You’re cutting the avocado meticulously, slowly, just like you do at home - an act of domesticity that always calms you as you imagine blending into your surroundings, a strategy which seems to make your husband view you as part of the furnishing at home, and grants you momentary relief from his tirades and threats as you meekly provide for him.
Sometimes, in your stronger moments, you ruminate on the knife in your hands.
Right now, you congratulate yourself on not having had even just one taste, the control of what you eat a shred of willpower you had carved out in your life.
Joel’s voice pulls you from your thoughts:
‘How’s your week been? Not seen you around much.’
You immediately sense the implication of his words.
‘ ‘s been fine. Busy.’ you mumble as you turn to place the bowl of food on the table behind you, but Joel stops you, placing a warm hand on your elbow as he shoots a look through the window above the door of the kitchen. He rises from where he was perched on the counter and his broad form covers the window. He slides his hand to your waist and grips you lightly, his deep brown eyes boring into yours. The warmth of his touch reassures you, but you can’t help to check the door for any potential intruders.
‘I’ve missed you’ Joel says matter-of-factly. You love this about him, the brevity and clarity of his words, devoid of any attempt to manipulate you. He knows how much to say to you, and when to stop and give you space. Usually, it’s this freedom that being with him allows your mind which then restores feeling to your body, too. It’s why since that first night patrol you shared with Joel, you had gone back to him every time the opportunity presented itself, for clandestine meetings at his house when Ellie was on patrol or out with her friends, and your husband so drunk or high he would be too incapacitated to exert his usual torment.
But you knew it wouldn’t last. You had given up hope for things to go your way long before you had made it to Jackson, safe from the horrors of the world following the outbreak, but not from those inside your own four walls.
Joel is grabbing the bowl from your hands and placing it down next to you before taking your hand into his, tugging you towards him. You are light-headed, your breath hitching when you feel his breath on your neck as he takes a step closer to you. Fear rises in you, your chest tightening at the lack of privacy the two of you have right now.
‘Joel, I… someone could…’
Joel takes another look over his shoulder, seemingly unperturbed when he hears the sound of gunfire on the screen and jeering from the Jackson crowd.
‘Shh, ‘s okay, darlin’. Jus’ need a moment with you.’
His hand on your waist slides round your back and digs into your skin as he walks you backwards towards the counter. He kisses you - hurriedly, but long enough that you feel a pinch of what you dare to believe is desperation on his side. You can feel the cool sting of his metal belt buckle against your stomach as your shirt rides up slightly. You know Joel can see your lip quivering.
‘Y’alright?’ he asks softly.
‘Yeah, I…, I just…’ you stutter, blinking away tears.
Your head is beginning to spin now, fear of being exposed and the weight of everything starting to overwhelm you. You had forgotten when you last ate. You hold onto Joel’s shoulders to steady yourself, quickly kissing him because you can’t help wanting to feel his lips again, but immediately have to take some slow breaths.
You close your eyes as the words tumble from your lips, mixing with Joel’s:
‘I don’t think we can go on like this’
- ‘When’s the last time you ate?’
You both freeze, a look of hurt flickering across Joel’s features for only a second before he gazes down at you with calm determination as he lowers his voice:
‘Right. But when did you last eat?’ He cups your cheek in his hand.With anyone but Joel, you’d start to shut down when the grip on your face becomes firmer. But with him, you give in to his touch further.
‘I don’t know, Joel. Been busy’ you lie. Appetite seemed to have departed days ago.
‘Well, have something. Now.’ Joel utters as he slides the bowl of guacamole across the steel counter with a screech. His other hand doesn’t leave your face as he grabs a bowl of tortilla chips and dips one into the smooth, fresh guacamole.
‘Joel’ you say, laughing noiselessly when he lifts the chip in front of your mouth. His eyes bore into you once again, it’s clear he’s not taking no for an answer. You open your mouth and allow him to slip the chip between your lips. You chew awkwardly at first, but soon your taste buds respond to the flavors, the different elements of your mother’s recipe adding a sense of nostalgia. You try to hold back tears but fail, one lone tear running down your cheek. Joel wipes it away with his thumb as he grabs another chip.
‘And again’ he whispers as he continues to feed you.
You do as he says, allowing the feeling of satiation to grow within you as you trust Joel to keep a lookout. When he does look at you, you can see your sadness reflected in him, though he seems to want to stay strong when he speaks:
‘Just keep eating. Focus on how it tastes, hon. Stay with it, stay with me. You’re safe right now, you’re alive.’
‘Not much longer if he finds out about us, Joel. It’s gonna happen, I can tell.’
A dark look comes across Joel’s face. For the briefest of moments, you fear it is directed at you. He moves the food out of the way as he wraps you up in his arms. You smell his cologne and the scent of him, so different from the odor of alcohol and lack of hygiene emanating from your husband.
Joel is kissing you again, tracing his lips down your neck and collarbone, removing your shirt from your shoulders. Your eyes are trained on the door when you notice him freeze.
You realize he has spotted the bruise on your arm.
‘Did he do this?’ Joel all but growls.
The way you rest your head against his is the only confirmation you feel able to give at this moment. You notice the way his hands have balled into fists when you open your eyes.
‘ ‘m gonna kill him’.
You smile sadly as you place your hands over Joel’s, clenched tightly, searching for his lips in an effort to appease him. You’ve heard rumors of what Joel is capable of, of his activities prior to arriving in Jackson. But hopelessness has seeped into your bones so much that you never consider him to be serious. Plus, he has Ellie now, a reason to stick around and not risk anything that would take him away from her.
‘Please stop talking like that, Joel. I’ll be alright. But I can’t keep doing this to you. You don’t need to fight my battles.’
‘ ‘s hardly a fair fight’ Joel hisses before pressing his lips to yours again, and not before long he is running his tongue across the seam of your lips. You allow him entry and he kisses you with an urgency you haven’t experienced from him before.
‘Just stay with me for a bit more. Let me take care of you’ he whispers when you separate to catch your breath. His hand is tracing up your thigh, making you shiver when he reaches underneath your skirt and begins to stroke your clit through your lace panties. You can’t tell yourself you hadn’t dug out your favorite, most well-preserved pair of lace in the hope of seeing him tonight.
Joel knows you’re short on time, so simply pulls the material to the side. Like muscle memory, his calloused fingers immediately find where you need him most, and he hums when he feels how wet you are for him already.
He draws small circles with his thumb, sending shockwaves all along your body. You allow your eyes to close, deciding to submit to the feeling entirely. If this is the end, you’re going to savor every second with him.
Joel pushes against you, and you can feel his cock hardening against you. But you know he will not insist on having you for his own pleasure before taking care of you. You smile when words of praise fall from his lips precisely at this moment.
‘So beautiful like this, so beautiful. That’s it, let yourself go, darlin, ‘m here.’
You gasp at his words as your orgasm blossoms in your core. His voice sounds far away. You feel like you’re floating, not taking his words in fully:
‘Gonna end it, baby, don’t you worry. I got you.’
Tears are now freely running down your face as you thank the stars for at least granting you these last few months with Joel. He places his cheek next to yours, his nose rubbing against the shell of your ear as he begs you to let him hear you come. When you are reduced to nothing but gasps, he moves two of his thick fingers slowly inside you, filling you just at the right moment.
You collapse against his shoulder when wave after wave of your orgasm overcomes you, washing away all anguish and fear, Joel’s body like an anchor, a taste of a life you could have had, where you spend days together freely, without a constant sense of helplessness or shame, wrapped up in each other with none of the tension that has accompanied your time together so far. A sob escapes you and Joel wraps an arm around you to hold you up as he shushes you with his head on top of yours, his voice drifting over you like a soft blanket.
‘...got you, always got you. There’ll be no more of it.’
You try to gather strength at his words, standing up and wiping your tears as you try to face your final moments together.
‘I’ll never regret what we did, Joel. Thank you for making me feel alive for a while. Whatever happens, it wasn’t your fau-...’
Joel cuts you off with a shake of his head. He runs his hands through your hair before holding the back of your head and placing his forehead to yours. You are crying again, making a mental note to splash some water on your face before you head outside again.
‘I’ll see you in a few days, ok? Just… act normal, head into town every day at least, speak to people. When you get the news, you gotta act shocked, and we have to be careful about seeing each other for a while, ok? Can you wait just a little more, darlin’ ?’
You’re utterly confused. You understand the need to keep your affair under wraps, and not let your emotions show when you will inevitably run into Joel around town. But your head is starting to spin again trying to work out what news you will hear in the next few days.
Joel is picking up the bowl of chips and guacamole and hands them to you. You take them, slowly, as he pulls on his jacket and runs a hand through his hair.
‘See you soon. Stay safe until then, okay?’ Joel’s voice seems to break as he kisses you once more.
‘Where are you going?’ you ask him, blinking as you try to understand his abrupt manner. You guess he is trying to rip the plaster off quickly.
‘Going to speak to Tommy about changing my spot on the patrol rota.’
‘What?’ you thought Joel had understood the need to end this. ‘Joel, we can’t keep doing this… And I’m not on the rota this week.’
Joel has already half turned away from you, staring at a spot on the floor. He squeezes your hand one last time.
‘You’re not. But your husband is. I’m gonna ask Tommy to put me on with him.’
Look. If I was ever in a situation where I needed a KoolAid man level of busting’ out - I know it would be Joel I would want.
the fear and the overthinking - You captured it beautifully, Tangy! 10/10 beefs 🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩
Love the dynamic between them. No pressure but more?
See you just get it! Thank you so much for such kind, heartfelt feedback, beef.
Well, you know how desperate I am to carve out some time to write more again, but I will say that I’ve had this ‘Kill Bill-ean Bride meets Joel in Jackson’ idea floating around for a while…
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
rating: Explicit (18+ only!)
warnings: Angst!/fluff/smut (fingering). Jackson Joel. General theme of reader being in an abusive relationship/marriage with OC - reader's bruises are mentioned; References to (reader's husband's) alcoholism and reader's disordered eating - Joel feeds reader; Secret relationship/affair. Please let me know if I’ve missed any!
word count: 2.2 k
summary: Your time with Joel had been an escape, a place for you to rest and be free from the terrors exerted on your body and mind. But you know things must come to an end, and have accepted what this might mean for you. What you don't yet know is that Joel has his own interpretation of 'ending things'.
A/N: This is well truly me finally dipping my toes into writing again! Angst is not a genre I feel too confident in, but I've appreciated this challenge so much. By no means my personal best, but getting it done, and writing about these topics, has been very important to me, so I am extremely grateful to @iamasaddie for organising this writing challenge, giving me a prompt and a deadline, which I desperately needed, and @noxturnalpascal for pointing me this way. Not greatly edited at all, nor beta'd, so please let me know your thoughts.
Just one moment could be the end of everything, and you chuckle internally at the uncertainty of whether that is a good or a bad thing.
Just one shift in your husband’s pattern of behavior, one moment of not tolerating staying at home watching crappy TV and instead venturing out and joining the majority of Jackson’s population for movie night at the community center.
One peek inside the kitchen area, most likely for some of Tommy’s home-brewed whisky and it could all be out in the open. At the same time as panic rises within you at the thought of a confrontation, you feel an almost callous sense of relief. This may be the one fit of rage you would not survive, but at least it would be over.
Because it wouldn’t take more than a second for him to work out that the conversation you and Joel are having right now is anything but innocent, though to any of the residents, Joel is simply keeping you company as you make mountains of guacamole, having volunteered to help with snacks in order to get out of the house.
You’re cutting the avocado meticulously, slowly, just like you do at home - an act of domesticity that always calms you as you imagine blending into your surroundings, a strategy which seems to make your husband view you as part of the furnishing at home, and grants you momentary relief from his tirades and threats as you meekly provide for him.
Sometimes, in your stronger moments, you ruminate on the knife in your hands.
Right now, you congratulate yourself on not having had even just one taste, the control of what you eat a shred of willpower you had carved out in your life.
Joel’s voice pulls you from your thoughts:
‘How’s your week been? Not seen you around much.’
You immediately sense the implication of his words.
‘ ‘s been fine. Busy.’ you mumble as you turn to place the bowl of food on the table behind you, but Joel stops you, placing a warm hand on your elbow as he shoots a look through the window above the door of the kitchen. He rises from where he was perched on the counter and his broad form covers the window. He slides his hand to your waist and grips you lightly, his deep brown eyes boring into yours. The warmth of his touch reassures you, but you can’t help to check the door for any potential intruders.
‘I’ve missed you’ Joel says matter-of-factly. You love this about him, the brevity and clarity of his words, devoid of any attempt to manipulate you. He knows how much to say to you, and when to stop and give you space. Usually, it’s this freedom that being with him allows your mind which then restores feeling to your body, too. It’s why since that first night patrol you shared with Joel, you had gone back to him every time the opportunity presented itself, for clandestine meetings at his house when Ellie was on patrol or out with her friends, and your husband so drunk or high he would be too incapacitated to exert his usual torment.
But you knew it wouldn’t last. You had given up hope for things to go your way long before you had made it to Jackson, safe from the horrors of the world following the outbreak, but not from those inside your own four walls.
Joel is grabbing the bowl from your hands and placing it down next to you before taking your hand into his, tugging you towards him. You are light-headed, your breath hitching when you feel his breath on your neck as he takes a step closer to you. Fear rises in you, your chest tightening at the lack of privacy the two of you have right now.
‘Joel, I… someone could…’
Joel takes another look over his shoulder, seemingly unperturbed when he hears the sound of gunfire on the screen and jeering from the Jackson crowd.
‘Shh, ‘s okay, darlin’. Jus’ need a moment with you.’
His hand on your waist slides round your back and digs into your skin as he walks you backwards towards the counter. He kisses you - hurriedly, but long enough that you feel a pinch of what you dare to believe is desperation on his side. You can feel the cool sting of his metal belt buckle against your stomach as your shirt rides up slightly. You know Joel can see your lip quivering.
‘Y’alright?’ he asks softly.
‘Yeah, I…, I just…’ you stutter, blinking away tears.
Your head is beginning to spin now, fear of being exposed and the weight of everything starting to overwhelm you. You had forgotten when you last ate. You hold onto Joel’s shoulders to steady yourself, quickly kissing him because you can’t help wanting to feel his lips again, but immediately have to take some slow breaths.
You close your eyes as the words tumble from your lips, mixing with Joel’s:
‘I don’t think we can go on like this’
- ‘When’s the last time you ate?’
You both freeze, a look of hurt flickering across Joel’s features for only a second before he gazes down at you with calm determination as he lowers his voice:
‘Right. But when did you last eat?’ He cups your cheek in his hand.With anyone but Joel, you’d start to shut down when the grip on your face becomes firmer. But with him, you give in to his touch further.
‘I don’t know, Joel. Been busy’ you lie. Appetite seemed to have departed days ago.
‘Well, have something. Now.’ Joel utters as he slides the bowl of guacamole across the steel counter with a screech. His other hand doesn’t leave your face as he grabs a bowl of tortilla chips and dips one into the smooth, fresh guacamole.
‘Joel’ you say, laughing noiselessly when he lifts the chip in front of your mouth. His eyes bore into you once again, it’s clear he’s not taking no for an answer. You open your mouth and allow him to slip the chip between your lips. You chew awkwardly at first, but soon your taste buds respond to the flavors, the different elements of your mother’s recipe adding a sense of nostalgia. You try to hold back tears but fail, one lone tear running down your cheek. Joel wipes it away with his thumb as he grabs another chip.
‘And again’ he whispers as he continues to feed you.
You do as he says, allowing the feeling of satiation to grow within you as you trust Joel to keep a lookout. When he does look at you, you can see your sadness reflected in him, though he seems to want to stay strong when he speaks:
‘Just keep eating. Focus on how it tastes, hon. Stay with it, stay with me. You’re safe right now, you’re alive.’
‘Not much longer if he finds out about us, Joel. It’s gonna happen, I can tell.’
A dark look comes across Joel’s face. For the briefest of moments, you fear it is directed at you. He moves the food out of the way as he wraps you up in his arms. You smell his cologne and the scent of him, so different from the odor of alcohol and lack of hygiene emanating from your husband.
Joel is kissing you again, tracing his lips down your neck and collarbone, removing your shirt from your shoulders. Your eyes are trained on the door when you notice him freeze.
You realize he has spotted the bruise on your arm.
‘Did he do this?’ Joel all but growls.
The way you rest your head against his is the only confirmation you feel able to give at this moment. You notice the way his hands have balled into fists when you open your eyes.
‘ ‘m gonna kill him’.
You smile sadly as you place your hands over Joel’s, clenched tightly, searching for his lips in an effort to appease him. You’ve heard rumors of what Joel is capable of, of his activities prior to arriving in Jackson. But hopelessness has seeped into your bones so much that you never consider him to be serious. Plus, he has Ellie now, a reason to stick around and not risk anything that would take him away from her.
‘Please stop talking like that, Joel. I’ll be alright. But I can’t keep doing this to you. You don’t need to fight my battles.’
‘ ‘s hardly a fair fight’ Joel hisses before pressing his lips to yours again, and not before long he is running his tongue across the seam of your lips. You allow him entry and he kisses you with an urgency you haven’t experienced from him before.
‘Just stay with me for a bit more. Let me take care of you’ he whispers when you separate to catch your breath. His hand is tracing up your thigh, making you shiver when he reaches underneath your skirt and begins to stroke your clit through your lace panties. You can’t tell yourself you hadn’t dug out your favorite, most well-preserved pair of lace in the hope of seeing him tonight.
Joel knows you’re short on time, so simply pulls the material to the side. Like muscle memory, his calloused fingers immediately find where you need him most, and he hums when he feels how wet you are for him already.
He draws small circles with his thumb, sending shockwaves all along your body. You allow your eyes to close, deciding to submit to the feeling entirely. If this is the end, you’re going to savor every second with him.
Joel pushes against you, and you can feel his cock hardening against you. But you know he will not insist on having you for his own pleasure before taking care of you. You smile when words of praise fall from his lips precisely at this moment.
‘So beautiful like this, so beautiful. That’s it, let yourself go, darlin, ‘m here.’
You gasp at his words as your orgasm blossoms in your core. His voice sounds far away. You feel like you’re floating, not taking his words in fully:
‘Gonna end it, baby, don’t you worry. I got you.’
Tears are now freely running down your face as you thank the stars for at least granting you these last few months with Joel. He places his cheek next to yours, his nose rubbing against the shell of your ear as he begs you to let him hear you come. When you are reduced to nothing but gasps, he moves two of his thick fingers slowly inside you, filling you just at the right moment.
You collapse against his shoulder when wave after wave of your orgasm overcomes you, washing away all anguish and fear, Joel’s body like an anchor, a taste of a life you could have had, where you spend days together freely, without a constant sense of helplessness or shame, wrapped up in each other with none of the tension that has accompanied your time together so far. A sob escapes you and Joel wraps an arm around you to hold you up as he shushes you with his head on top of yours, his voice drifting over you like a soft blanket.
‘...got you, always got you. There’ll be no more of it.’
You try to gather strength at his words, standing up and wiping your tears as you try to face your final moments together.
‘I’ll never regret what we did, Joel. Thank you for making me feel alive for a while. Whatever happens, it wasn’t your fau-...’
Joel cuts you off with a shake of his head. He runs his hands through your hair before holding the back of your head and placing his forehead to yours. You are crying again, making a mental note to splash some water on your face before you head outside again.
‘I’ll see you in a few days, ok? Just… act normal, head into town every day at least, speak to people. When you get the news, you gotta act shocked, and we have to be careful about seeing each other for a while, ok? Can you wait just a little more, darlin’ ?’
You’re utterly confused. You understand the need to keep your affair under wraps, and not let your emotions show when you will inevitably run into Joel around town. But your head is starting to spin again trying to work out what news you will hear in the next few days.
Joel is picking up the bowl of chips and guacamole and hands them to you. You take them, slowly, as he pulls on his jacket and runs a hand through his hair.
‘See you soon. Stay safe until then, okay?’ Joel’s voice seems to break as he kisses you once more.
‘Where are you going?’ you ask him, blinking as you try to understand his abrupt manner. You guess he is trying to rip the plaster off quickly.
‘Going to speak to Tommy about changing my spot on the patrol rota.’
‘What?’ you thought Joel had understood the need to end this. ‘Joel, we can’t keep doing this… And I’m not on the rota this week.’
Joel has already half turned away from you, staring at a spot on the floor. He squeezes your hand one last time.
‘You’re not. But your husband is. I’m gonna ask Tommy to put me on with him.’
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
rating: Explicit (18+ only!)
warnings: Angst!/fluff/smut (fingering). Jackson Joel. General theme of reader being in an abusive relationship/marriage with OC - reader's bruises are mentioned; References to (reader's husband's) alcoholism and reader's disordered eating - Joel feeds reader; Secret relationship/affair. Please let me know if I’ve missed any!
word count: 2.2 k
summary: Your time with Joel had been an escape, a place for you to rest and be free from the terrors exerted on your body and mind. But you know things must come to an end, and have accepted what this might mean for you. What you don't yet know is that Joel has his own interpretation of 'ending things'.
A/N: This is well truly me finally dipping my toes into writing again! Angst is not a genre I feel too confident in, but I’ve had a Jackson Joel story like this in the back of my head for so long, so I've appreciated this challenge so much. By no means my personal best, but getting it done, and writing about these topics, has been very important to me, so I am extremely grateful to @iamasaddie for organising this writing challenge, giving me a prompt and a deadline, which I desperately needed, and @noxturnalpascal for pointing me this way. Not greatly edited at all, nor beta'd, so please let me know your thoughts.
Just one moment could be the end of everything, and you chuckle internally at the uncertainty of whether that is a good or a bad thing.
Just one shift in your husband’s pattern of behavior, one moment of not tolerating staying at home watching crappy TV and instead venturing out and joining the majority of Jackson’s population for movie night at the community center.
One peek inside the kitchen area, most likely for some of Tommy’s home-brewed whisky and it could all be out in the open. At the same time as panic rises within you at the thought of a confrontation, you feel an almost callous sense of relief. This may be the one fit of rage you would not survive, but at least it would be over.
Because it wouldn’t take more than a second for him to work out that the conversation you and Joel are having right now is anything but innocent, though to any of the residents, Joel is simply keeping you company as you make mountains of guacamole, having volunteered to help with snacks in order to get out of the house.
You’re cutting the avocado meticulously, slowly, just like you do at home - an act of domesticity that always calms you as you imagine blending into your surroundings, a strategy which seems to make your husband view you as part of the furnishing at home, and grants you momentary relief from his tirades and threats as you meekly provide for him.
Sometimes, in your stronger moments, you ruminate on the knife in your hands.
Right now, you congratulate yourself on not having had even just one taste, the control of what you eat a shred of willpower you had carved out in your life.
Joel’s voice pulls you from your thoughts:
‘How’s your week been? Not seen you around much.’
You immediately sense the implication of his words.
‘ ‘s been fine. Busy.’ you mumble as you turn to place the bowl of food on the table behind you, but Joel stops you, placing a warm hand on your elbow as he shoots a look through the window above the door of the kitchen. He rises from where he was perched on the counter and his broad form covers the window. He slides his hand to your waist and grips you lightly, his deep brown eyes boring into yours. The warmth of his touch reassures you, but you can’t help to check the door for any potential intruders.
‘I’ve missed you’ Joel says matter-of-factly. You love this about him, the brevity and clarity of his words, devoid of any attempt to manipulate you. He knows how much to say to you, and when to stop and give you space. Usually, it’s this freedom that being with him allows your mind which then restores feeling to your body, too. It’s why since that first night patrol you shared with Joel, you had gone back to him every time the opportunity presented itself, for clandestine meetings at his house when Ellie was on patrol or out with her friends, and your husband so drunk or high he would be too incapacitated to exert his usual torment.
But you knew it wouldn’t last. You had given up hope for things to go your way long before you had made it to Jackson, safe from the horrors of the world following the outbreak, but not from those inside your own four walls.
Joel is grabbing the bowl from your hands and placing it down next to you before taking your hand into his, tugging you towards him. You are light-headed, your breath hitching when you feel his breath on your neck as he takes a step closer to you. Fear rises in you, your chest tightening at the lack of privacy the two of you have right now.
‘Joel, I… someone could…’
Joel takes another look over his shoulder, seemingly unperturbed when he hears the sound of gunfire on the screen and jeering from the Jackson crowd.
‘Shh, ‘s okay, darlin’. Jus’ need a moment with you.’
His hand on your waist slides round your back and digs into your skin as he walks you backwards towards the counter. He kisses you - hurriedly, but long enough that you feel a pinch of what you dare to believe is desperation on his side. You can feel the cool sting of his metal belt buckle against your stomach as your shirt rides up slightly. You know Joel can see your lip quivering.
‘Y’alright?’ he asks softly.
‘Yeah, I…, I just…’ you stutter, blinking away tears.
Your head is beginning to spin now, fear of being exposed and the weight of everything starting to overwhelm you. You had forgotten when you last ate. You hold onto Joel’s shoulders to steady yourself, quickly kissing him because you can’t help wanting to feel his lips again, but immediately have to take some slow breaths.
You close your eyes as the words tumble from your lips, mixing with Joel’s:
‘I don’t think we can go on like this’
- ‘When’s the last time you ate?’
You both freeze, a look of hurt flickering across Joel’s features for only a second before he gazes down at you with calm determination as he lowers his voice:
‘Right. But when did you last eat?’ He cups your cheek in his hand.With anyone but Joel, you’d start to shut down when the grip on your face becomes firmer. But with him, you give in to his touch further.
‘I don’t know, Joel. Been busy’ you lie. Appetite seemed to have departed days ago.
‘Well, have something. Now.’ Joel utters as he slides the bowl of guacamole across the steel counter with a screech. His other hand doesn’t leave your face as he grabs a bowl of tortilla chips and dips one into the smooth, fresh guacamole.
‘Joel’ you say, laughing noiselessly when he lifts the chip in front of your mouth. His eyes bore into you once again, it’s clear he’s not taking no for an answer. You open your mouth and allow him to slip the chip between your lips. You chew awkwardly at first, but soon your taste buds respond to the flavors, the different elements of your mother’s recipe adding a sense of nostalgia. You try to hold back tears but fail, one lone tear running down your cheek. Joel wipes it away with his thumb as he grabs another chip.
‘And again’ he whispers as he continues to feed you.
You do as he says, allowing the feeling of satiation to grow within you as you trust Joel to keep a lookout. When he does look at you, you can see your sadness reflected in him, though he seems to want to stay strong when he speaks:
‘Just keep eating. Focus on how it tastes, hon. Stay with it, stay with me. You’re safe right now, you’re alive.’
‘Not much longer if he finds out about us, Joel. It’s gonna happen, I can tell.’
A dark look comes across Joel’s face. For the briefest of moments, you fear it is directed at you. He moves the food out of the way as he wraps you up in his arms. You smell his cologne and the scent of him, so different from the odor of alcohol and lack of hygiene emanating from your husband.
Joel is kissing you again, tracing his lips down your neck and collarbone, removing your shirt from your shoulders. Your eyes are trained on the door when you notice him freeze.
You realize he has spotted the bruise on your arm.
‘Did he do this?’ Joel all but growls.
The way you rest your head against his is the only confirmation you feel able to give at this moment. You notice the way his hands have balled into fists when you open your eyes.
‘ ‘m gonna kill him’.
You smile sadly as you place your hands over Joel’s, clenched tightly, searching for his lips in an effort to appease him. You’ve heard rumors of what Joel is capable of, of his activities prior to arriving in Jackson. But hopelessness has seeped into your bones so much that you never consider him to be serious. Plus, he has Ellie now, a reason to stick around and not risk anything that would take him away from her.
‘Please stop talking like that, Joel. I’ll be alright. But I can’t keep doing this to you. You don’t need to fight my battles.’
‘ ‘s hardly a fair fight’ Joel hisses before pressing his lips to yours again, and not before long he is running his tongue across the seam of your lips. You allow him entry and he kisses you with an urgency you haven’t experienced from him before.
‘Just stay with me for a bit more. Let me take care of you’ he whispers when you separate to catch your breath. His hand is tracing up your thigh, making you shiver when he reaches underneath your skirt and begins to stroke your clit through your lace panties. You can’t tell yourself you hadn’t dug out your favorite, most well-preserved pair of lace in the hope of seeing him tonight.
Joel knows you’re short on time, so simply pulls the material to the side. Like muscle memory, his calloused fingers immediately find where you need him most, and he hums when he feels how wet you are for him already.
He draws small circles with his thumb, sending shockwaves all along your body. You allow your eyes to close, deciding to submit to the feeling entirely. If this is the end, you’re going to savor every second with him.
Joel pushes against you, and you can feel his cock hardening against you. But you know he will not insist on having you for his own pleasure before taking care of you. You smile when words of praise fall from his lips precisely at this moment.
‘So beautiful like this, so beautiful. That’s it, let yourself go, darlin, ‘m here.’
You gasp at his words as your orgasm blossoms in your core. His voice sounds far away. You feel like you’re floating, not taking his words in fully:
‘Gonna end it, baby, don’t you worry. I got you.’
Tears are now freely running down your face as you thank the stars for at least granting you these last few months with Joel. He places his cheek next to yours, his nose rubbing against the shell of your ear as he begs you to let him hear you come. When you are reduced to nothing but gasps, he moves two of his thick fingers slowly inside you, filling you just at the right moment.
You collapse against his shoulder when wave after wave of your orgasm overcomes you, washing away all anguish and fear, Joel’s body like an anchor, a taste of a life you could have had, where you spend days together freely, without a constant sense of helplessness or shame, wrapped up in each other with none of the tension that has accompanied your time together so far. A sob escapes you and Joel wraps an arm around you to hold you up as he shushes you with his head on top of yours, his voice drifting over you like a soft blanket.
‘...got you, always got you. There’ll be no more of it.’
You try to gather strength at his words, standing up and wiping your tears as you try to face your final moments together.
‘I’ll never regret what we did, Joel. Thank you for making me feel alive for a while. Whatever happens, it wasn’t your fau-...’
Joel cuts you off with a shake of his head. He runs his hands through your hair before holding the back of your head and placing his forehead to yours. You are crying again, making a mental note to splash some water on your face before you head outside again.
‘I’ll see you in a few days, ok? Just… act normal, head into town every day at least, speak to people. When you get the news, you gotta act shocked, and we have to be careful about seeing each other for a while, ok? Can you wait just a little more, darlin’ ?’
You’re utterly confused. You understand the need to keep your affair under wraps, and not let your emotions show when you will inevitably run into Joel around town. But your head is starting to spin again trying to work out what news you will hear in the next few days.
Joel is picking up the bowl of chips and guacamole and hands them to you. You take them, slowly, as he pulls on his jacket and runs a hand through his hair.
‘See you soon. Stay safe until then, okay?’ Joel’s voice seems to break as he kisses you once more.
‘Where are you going?’ you ask him, blinking as you try to understand his abrupt manner. You guess he is trying to rip the plaster off quickly.
‘Going to speak to Tommy about changing my spot on the patrol rota.’
‘What?’ you thought Joel had understood the need to end this. ‘Joel, we can’t keep doing this… And I’m not on the rota this week.’
Joel has already half turned away from you, staring at a spot on the floor. He squeezes your hand one last time.
‘You’re not. But your husband is. I’m gonna ask Tommy to put me on with him.’
Go to Pinterest and select the first character, real person, quote and outfit to get your vibe. Then list 7 of your comfort films.
Ah of course - a rainbow array of Peñas, yet the entirely black outfit!
The cottage poem literally made me tear up though, the day after finding a cottage in the middle of nowhere and telling myself if I won the lottery I’d buy it so I could become a happy old woman reading & writing smut in between tending to her garden 🧙
Summary: When you’ve had a hard week and the boys know exactly how to help you unwind.
Notes: Very gay TF-141 and Reader being horny and gay.
Warnings: Orgy, Gangbang, DP, GHOAP goodness, softdom!Price, dommy!Simon/Ghost, Bratty!Soap, poly synamics, unprotected PiV, choking, rough kissing, rough sex, lots of bodies, lots of genitals. Let me know if I missed anything. Thank you @noxturnalpascal for the thorough BETA read and the stick figure drawings. Fucking 10/10.
“Just relax, love,” Price says softly as he pulls you back against him, his lips brushing the curve of your ear. He uses his broad palms to spread your thighs open, settling back against the headboard of one of the many beds in your shared home. You squirm as the cool air hits your wet cunt; you feel so deliciously exposed.
“We’ve got you,” Gaz assures you as he nestles between your thighs, his broad shoulders bumping against Price’s fingers. He kisses the backs of Price’s hands in turn before trailing kisses up the inside of your thighs.
Your head lolls back against Price’s chest, his soft chest hair tickling your back pleasantly as Gaz licks a broad stripe up the seam of your cunt. His lips suckle gently on your clit as he flicks your swollen bud with his tongue. You grip Price’s forearms, soft sighs escaping your lips with every wet drag of Gaz’ tongue through your folds.
Soap crawls up onto the bed next to you, capturing your mouth, kissing you slowly as he palms your left breast in his large hand. He slides his tongue along yours with slow strokes as Gaz slips two fingers inside you. You melt back against Price as you cup the back of Gaz’s head, raking your fingers through his short curls, encouraging him in closer.
You feel the dip of the mattress as Simon joins in, the low growl in Price’s chest reverberating through you tells you that no time has been wasted in Simon claiming Price’s mouth.
You’re building to your first orgasm of the night, and you don’t know where to put your hands as your legs tremble and quake. Price tightens his grip on your thighs, holding you firm. You release the back of Gaz’ head, fumbling for Simon’s cock as the fingers of your other hand threads through the base of Soap’s mohawk.
You press your forehead against his, your breath coming in rapid, short bursts. You’re no longer able to kiss consistently as Gaz and his thick tongue unravel you at the seams. His hot mouth unyielding on your clit as he licks and suckles at your aching bundle of nerves.
“This what you needed, sweetheart?” Simon asks, voice husky as he breaks his kiss with Price, moving to nip at your jaw, his hot breath fanning over your slick skin. You pump his length; his smooth foreskin is supple under your fingertips. Simon groans low as he presses his forehead to your temple.
“Yes,” you pant, “Need more, please.”
You cry out as Gaz brings you to your peak, fire dancing in your veins as you feel the press of four other bodies on your skin, anchoring you as you come hard. Price’s cock grinds against the base of your spine as you rock back onto him, a choked moan ripping from his lips as he slides his hands up over the swell of your stomach to find your tits. Calloused palms and fingertips drag over your peaked nipples as he teases you through your orgasm.
“So good for us,” Price murmurs as he rubs his nose behind your ear, “Who do you want where sweetheart?”
“Want Si and Johnny to fuck next to us while you and Gaz fuck me,” you sigh, still trembling as you press a long, tender kiss to Soap’s lips, “Want to touch and watch them.”
“Dirty lass,” Soap croons as he nips at your bottom lip, “Like watching me and Si get nasty, huh?”
“Yes, fuckin’ beautiful,” you admit with a groan as you look down to see Gaz grinning up at you.
“You’re the beautiful one here, babe,” Gaz says with a chuckle as he pulls his fingers from your slick hole before smearing your slick up and down your folds, “All fucked out and aching for more.”
“Gaz,” you whine as he circles your oversensitive clit with his thick fingers, “Want your cock in my pussy, please.”
“Hear that, Captain?” Gaz says, needling Price with the use of his rank, “I think our girl wants you to fuck her ass.”
You preen at being called theirs. It’s possessive but freeing, knowing that you’re as much theirs as they are yours. The liberation of knowing you’re loved, and love these men equally, unconditionally, makes your heart swell and your cunt throb.
“That so, darling?” Price asks as he slides his hands around to your hips, shifting you forwards just a little before teasing your asshole with his cock, “Want me in your ass, not your pretty little mouth?”
“Yes,” you sigh as you feel the head of Price’s cock catch at your puckered hole, “Need it, please.”
“Johnny, be a good lad and go grab the lube,” Si orders, his tone coated in steel, a familiar warmth spreads through you as you recognise the register of his voice. It’s the voice he adopts when he has you begging for more. The one he uses when you’re pinned beneath him, writhing, and drooling into the sheets as he fucks out every other thought from your head.
“Gimme a wee minute,” Soap groans as he recaptures your lips with his own, tongue slipping into your mouth, slow and teasing as he makes you melt. You increase the pace on Simon’s cock, making the large man jerk and groan under your practiced movements.
“MacTavish,” Simon warns, and you crack your eyes open to see his honey-brown eyes hard and no-nonsense, glowering at Soap. But the façade is cracked as his bottom lip trembles and his eyes gloss over as you thumb at his sensitive tip.
“So demanding LT,” Soap laughs as he rolls off the bed and over to the dresser at the far end of the room that houses drawers upon drawers of sex toys, lube, and other paraphernalia.
“Watch it Sergeant,” Price growls from behind you, his beard tickling against the nape of your neck, “Don’t make me pull rank and discipline you.”
“Sorry Cap,” Soap says with a melodramatic lilt to his voice, “I’m just a poor horny lad, helpless to resist the siren in our midst.”
“Wax lyrical later, Johnny,” Simon snaps as he wraps his large hand around your jaw, turning you to face him while Gaz settles on his knees between your spread thighs, “We’ve got a lady to please.”
Gaz strokes his length impatiently as he watches Simon dip his tongue past your open lips, no romance or tenderness from the larger man now. You arch up into the brutal kiss as his thick tongue fills your mouth. It’s a blissful feeling of being trapped and devoured, making you grind back hard enough on Price’s cock to push the tip past the tight ring your asshole.
You mewl at the familiar, tantalising burn as you stretch around it. It makes your mouth water as you try to push back harder, desire clouding your common sense. Price halts your hips, his body shuddering as he groans into the column of your neck.
“Easy, Simon,” Price purrs, a hand coming up to wrap around Ghost’s neck, “Let’s take our time, yeah?”
Simon eases back, mouth slotted over yours as he pulls firmly at your bottom lip with a breathy moan. His hips buck, chasing your hand as you slow your movements to a torturously slow pace.
“Good boy,” you say in a barely audible whisper, and the reaction you get from Simon is delicious. His eyes snap open and his jaw ticks to the side, you’d think he was angry, if not for the way his cock twitches in your hand. His face is flushed, pink tinging across his scarred cheeks; colour bleeding up from his thick neck.
“You’re brave,” Gaz says with a smirk on his plush lips as he rubs his tip through your drenched folds, “Making Simon blush is a dangerous game.”
Soap rejoins the tangle of limbs on the bed, this time squeezing himself in between you and Simon.
“Aye,” he agrees, squirting a generous amount of lube into his palm before handing the bottle off to Price, “But high risks equal high rewards, right Si?” He grins up at Ghost, who grins back, his eyes sparkling with affection as he sits back on the bed. He cosies up to Price, making sure there’s room for Johnny to staddle him.
“Enough,” Simon growls as he smears his hand into the obscene amount of lube in Soap’s palm, “Lube up.”
Johnny’s bright blue eyes gleam as he nestles his knees either side of Simon’s broad thighs. He maintains eye contact with you as you watch him slide his lubed-up palm just out of sight, a soft moan escaping his lips as he starts to finger his asshole.
“Ready, darling?” Price asks as you feel two lubed up fingers prod at your own tight ring of muscles. Gaz looks at you in mesmerized rapture as he squeezes the base of his cock, sweat beads at his brow as he bites his lip.
“Yeah,” you hum as you lie back against Price’s broad chest, “Work me open, need your cock.”
“Let me know when you’re ready, go on Gaz, fill her up,” Price orders as he teases his middle finger inside you. He glides in with little resistance, the lube doing its job as he seats the thick digit deep inside you, rocking back and forth slowly. The burst of pleasure is maddening as you look over to see Simon lubing up his cock, his amber eyes fixed on Johnny now.
“Ready, babe?” Gaz checks in as he waits for your assent.
“Please, fuck me,” you beg as Price squirts some more lube over your ass, teasing his second finger at your hole.
Gaz pushes his tip inside you, the stretch welcome as the finger in your ass makes you a little tighter than normal. Your back arches up when Gaz bottoms out, already feeling impossibly full with just two fingers now rocking back and forth in your ass.
You look over, bleary-eyed, watching Soap ease himself down onto Simon’s thick length. Soap’s face is flushed as he furrows his brow, short, breathy pants escaping past his lips while he takes Simon’s girth.
The air is hot and heavy as Soap flashes you a strained smile, winking at you when his ass settles flush against Simon’s thighs. He steadies his hands on Simon’s outstretched legs, thick fingers digging into the larger man’s thighs.
“Look at you pair,” Price says, his voice barely more than a base growl as he rests his head on your shoulder, his free hand flat against your abdomen as he eases his thick fingers out of your gaping hole, “Pretty as a picture.”
“You ready for me, darling?” Price asks as he lines his cock up against your ass. Gaz shivers in anticipation as he remains buried deep inside you. You clench hard as you watch Soap arch his back as Ghost rolls his hips.
“Need you John, fuck my ass,” you pant as Gaz leans in to take your left nipple between his lips as he grinds down into you. The hot, wet swirl of his tongue makes your toes curl and you lose yourself to the pleasure coursing though you.
Your mouth falls slack as you feel the air being punched out of your lungs, you’re so impossibly full, both your holes clenching and quivering as heat ripples through your body.
“So fuckin’ tight,” Price rasps in your ear as he presses his forehead against your shoulder.
“Taking us so well, babe,” Gaz murmurs against your breast as he pulls almost all the way out, groaning as you whimper beneath him, “How’d you want us? You want it rough? Or nice and slow?”
Soap groans low as Simon fucks up into his tight hole, already setting a brutal pace and you can’t help but yearn for that too.
“Use me, fuck me hard, like I’m a fucking doll. Use me,” you cry out as Simon growls low.
“You heard her boys,” Simon breathes as his brow furrows with tension, “Give her what she deserves.”
Soap gently grabs your wrist, coaxing your hand to wrap around his cock as he grins down at you, his jaw clenched.
“Help us out lass,” he coos and you nod limply as Gaz starts to fuck you hard, his thick cock punching deep inside you as Price holds you steady, his movements still slow and cautious, “There you go, good girl,” Soap groans as you pump his cock in earnest.
“John,” you mewl, Price licking a broad stripe up your neck as he fucks up into you hard, your tight asshole gripping him firmly as pleasure shoots up your spine, “You and Gaz feel so good.”
“Yeah?” He groans low in your ear as he digs his fingertips into the soft flesh of your hips, “Like having two cocks stuffed inside you? Like it when I fuck you like this?”
Price continues to spew filth in your ear as Gaz rails into you. Gaz’ face is contorted in a mix of pleasure and tension while his heavy balls slap against your ass cheeks, Price continuing to fuck up into you from behind. Simon groans as he grinds his hips up into Johnny before reaching over and grabbing Price by the hair.
Their lips clash, a flurry of teeth and tongues, as their large forms prohibit much movement in the current tangle of bodies. You can’t see them, but you can hear them; low, rumbling grunts and heavy breaths as tongues slide wet and loud through open mouthed kisses.
You pant into Gaz’ mouth as he cradles your face in his broad hands, stealing kiss after kiss as he pulls all the way out before slamming hard back down into you. Your hand grips and twists at Johnny’s cock as he jerks on Ghost’s lap, you hear his breaths coming in short bursts and feel his dick twitch beneath your fingers.
You’re so close, the hot press of bodies, the heavy tang of sex and sweat weaves around you like your own personal aphrodisiac and you feel your orgasm threatening to crash down on you. Soap is close too, you feel it in the way he twitches with every stroke of your fingertips along his shaft.
Simon comes first, head snapping back against the pillows as he groans low, his hips stuttering as he fills Soap with his come. It triggers Johnny’s own orgasm, hot ropes of his spend gushing over your fingertips as you work him gently through it.
“Fuck,” Soap pants as he falls forward, catching himself on his elbows as he stops himself from head butting Simon’s nose, “Haven’t come that fast in forever.”
Simon chuckles softly as he cups Johnny’s face, pulling him down for a tender kiss. You smile as Soap slips a hand up to fondle your breast closest to him, an absent smirk painted on his lips as he gives you a sideways look.
“Gonna come for them, hen?” He goads and you grin when Price picks up the pace, pleasure thrumming under your skin while you feel Gaz’s thrusts become sloppy, erratic as he moves towards his impending high.
“Fuck me Gaz, come inside me,” you plead as you drop a hand to your swollen clit, knowing you need just that little extra stimulation to push you over the edge. Your skin burns with your impending release and Price sucks hard at the apex of your neck and shoulder, teeth nipping at your skin while he fucks your ass hard.
You cry out when Gaz slams his hips into yours one last time, burying himself inside you as you feel his cock twitch and pulse as he comes. He smothers you with his body, pressing his forehead to your sternum. His lips leaving featherlight kisses on your damp skin, his hot breath fanning across your chest.
“Just you and me left,” Price growls, snaking a hand up to your neck, pressuring your windpipe a little as he pulls you down on his cock, “This what you needed, darling? To get fucked dumb?”
You can’t answer, your body is trembling with exertion and then you come hard, clenching down on Gaz’ softening cock and on Price’s thick length as he spears you on his cock over and over.
“There you go, gripping me so hard,” Price groans as he keeps fucking you, his lips fuse to your skin, “Gonna come in this tight little ass.”
“Please,” you beg as your vision blurs and your back arches.
Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you fall apart at the seams. Price follows you shortly after, moaning into your skin as he empties himself into you.
There’s silence in the room, save for the combined panting of each of your bodies. Gaz lays heavy on your chest as you lie back, limp in Price’s arms as both Soap and ghost trace patterns on your skin while you lie there.
Each and every one of you are fucked out, blissfully grinning, chests heaving, as the euphoria washes over you all.
“Thank you,” you finally manage to eek out the sentiment as you close your eyes, losing yourself in the gentle touches and soft press of lips against your skin. You don’t know who is where, except for Price, who cradles you from behind.
“No need to thank us,” he whispers softly as he rubs his nose along the plane of your shoulder, “I think we all needed that.”
There’s a general noise of assent from the rest of them as you let out a breathy laugh.
“I need to shower, we all need to shower,” you say with little conviction as you feel yourself drifting dangerously close to sleep.
“In a bit,” Price promises as he holds you close.
You do eventually get up, the boys taking care of you, Gaz holds you in the shower as you slowly sway together. Soap and Price get some take away menus, and some beers from the fridge. Simon strips the bed and fits fresh sheets before putting the soiled sheets and the rest of the dirty washing into the machine downstairs.
You settle back against the headboard, clean and dry, with Simon and Gaz either side of you as Soap and Price lounge on the foot of the bed. There’s a heavy, unspoken sense of tranquillity as gentle touches, and soft kisses are shared between you all.
There’s a simple bliss to it, being surrounded by those who love you. But simplicity is exactly what you need.
