#pedro pascal cinematic universe

[baronessvonglitter]

Happy Campers

camp counselor!Joel Miller x f!reader | 3.4K | read on AO3

Summary: Joel Miller, the new head counselor at Camp Happy Trail, makes sure this summer will be one you won't forget.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! No outbreak AU. '80s AU. Think Camp Crystal Lake vibes w/o the murders. Set in 1980. Mention of another p-boi. Mention of semi-public sex. Accidental voyeurism. Fingering. Auralism. F!masturbation. Joel is a bully AND has a big 🍆. Kissing. Breast/nipple play. One spank. F!oral. Unprotected piv. Creampie. Mention of pregnancy (not reader). Cheating. Secret fmf threesome (makes sense in context). M!oral. Cum swallowing. Reader is early-to-mid-twenties, able bodied, with breasts and vagina, but otherwise undescribed. Feel free to imagine Game Joel or Show Joel.

Adriana's note: another little thing in my wips for a few weeks, and I really wanted to have it out by the end of summer. This was inspired by a fantasy an idea of Joel in 1980s short shorts (this look should definitely make a comeback)

dividers by @/strangergraphics-archive 👑

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

SUMMER 1980

You love your summer job as counselor at Camp Happy Trail. You love being outdoors, helping the campers with swimming, canoeing, hiking, learning about nature. You’ve looked forward to it every summer since high school.

This year is different. There’s a new head counselor in town, and he’s trouble in the form of Joel Miller.

He’s tall, broad, graying, and stern. His dark brown eyes apprise every counselor in front of him as the group gathers on the camp’s front lawn two weeks before opening day. He goes over the rules and expectations of all staff members. You pay attention even though it’s the same old drill: no fucking around during working hours, make sure the campers are safe at all times, please report injuries and have them sent to the nurses station, et cetera. You could recite the rules by heart.

Only one thing has you concerned.

You raise your hand to speak. Joel glances over at you but continues talking, stressing the importance of keeping away from drugs and alcohol during the next two weeks, especially once the campers come on opening day. You know all that. Still, you wait with your hand raised until Joel sighs, giving you time to speak.

“What happened to Frankie?”

Joel tries really hard not to roll his eyes. “Francisco Morales won’t be here to help us set up. He’ll be here on the camp’s opening day.” He snorts, arms crossed as he eyes you up and down. “What, is he your boyfriend or somethin’?”

“No..” you reply, unable to stop the embarrassment from creeping up your spine. Of course you and Frankie hadn’t set any firm definitions about what you are, but the past two years you’ve spent here have also been spent by fucking him in the woods during early morning hikes, blowing him in the storage shed, and sneaking him into your cabin to have him go down on you all night.

You have his number, but there’s been no answer when you’ve called before driving up to the campsite. You wonder what’s keeping him from being here.

Piper, the girl you’ve hated since you’ve been counselors together these past few years, shoots a smug look your way as the meeting is adjourned, and she walks off with Joel’s arm around her waist. She glances over her shoulder at you, giving you the finger.

She’s just jealous because Frankie chose you over her two years ago. She hasn’t let you alone in peace since.

Joel is a hard task master. At dawn he has the counselors up and jogging through the trail in the woods and chopping firewood before breakfast. Swim safety is in the afternoon when the heat is at its worst, the air humid with the scent of sunblock and stagnant lake water. At the very least you’re given some time to lay out in the sun afterward, drying off on the warm boards of the dock.

Back at the cabins only two people are unaccounted for – Piper and Joel. The other counselors make crude guesses as to where they are and what they’re doing. You’re elected to go and find them before it gets dark. Piper has dinner duty and Maya refuses to do all the cooking alone.

Slipping on your jean shorts, your towel slung over your shoulders to catch the water droplets from your still-damp hair, you set out in search of Joel and Piper.

The sun is just starting to set when you find them in a thick copse of trees near the edge of the forest, Piper pressed against a tree as Joel’s fingering her, his hand down the front of her red bikini bottom as he plunges inside her, head bent close to her ear, muttering dirty things. You stop, half-hidden by the trees as you watch them, your own pussy growing wet just bearing witness. You know you should turn and leave, forget you ever saw this, just tell the others that Piper and Joel are coming back soon.

But you’re frozen to the spot, watching them in the secrecy of the woods, your own hand ghosting over your clothed clit, imagining what Joel’s thick, rough fingers must feel like.

There’s a sharp snap of a twig that echoes in the air, causing Piper and Joel to quickly part. You’re already hurrying down the path, shame and lust heating your cheeks.

Everyone is split up in pairs, the counselor bunks only small enough to house two comfortably, and unfortunately Joel assigns you and Piper together. You tell yourself it’ll just be a couple months and most days will be too busy for you to have to deal with her very much.

Piper grabs the top bunk before you have a chance to claim it. But once you’re settled in the bottom, she makes you switch back after she finds a spiderweb too close to the ceiling.

But even your nights can’t be peaceful. Joel sneaks in after lights out, and you have to endure the soft giggles and moans coming from the bunk below you. The entire bed frame rocks with Joel’s thrusts as he fucks your bunkmate.

Great, just great.

They make no effort to hide whatever’s going on between them. His hand is permanently on her ass, barely clothed in the camp counselor uniform shorts, his entire paw covering her ass cheek. The others don’t notice or don’t care, too caught up in their own romantic entanglements.

It only makes you miss Frankie more. Out here in the woods you have no way of contacting him except through the main office line, but Joel stands right in front of anyone who wants to call home, dials the number on the rotary phone, and waits with arms crossed as the call is made. Nobody does personal calls while he’s in charge.

You try to keep yourself busy with helping get the camp ready. The grass near the cabins is maintained, repairs are made to the buildings themselves (which Joel oversees, and you can’t help but to check him out a little while he’s fixing the sign above the infirmary – he looks too good with a hammer), checking that the generators are working properly, and that the electrical system and water pressure are good.

There’s so much to do that by the time you climb up into your bunk you fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

The only thing that could possibly wake you is Joel fucking Piper in the bunk below yours.

Joel’s grunts and groans, paired with Piper’s moaning and gasping, keep you awake. You lose count of how many rounds they go, the entire bed bunk frame shaking with their movements. And at one point you can’t help it as your fingers travel beneath your sleep shorts, finding your wet pussy and tracing your slit. Two fingers fit inside you easily as you lift your legs to get comfortable. Closing your eyes you start fucking yourself on your hand, imagining Joel’s fingers inside of you instead of yours.

You’re trying desperately to keep your whimpering to a minimum but you doubt they’ll hear you over their own sounds. Your fingers match the pace of Joel’s thrusts, though you imagine his cock is a lot bigger than your two fingers combined. And the way he’s been fucking Piper for almost an hour solidifies the fact that his stamina is good.

Your fingers glide over your clit, circling and swiping, your hips arching up as you chase the friction you so desperately need for your release as you listen to Piper’s moans and Joel’s increasing grunts. Eyes squeezed tight you plunge your fingers as deep as you can, timing it just right with Piper’s final, momentous scream. You try to keep as quiet as possible as your release coats your hand, clit throbbing, legs quaking.

Joel corners you after breakfast the next morning, barring you from following the others to the field where a soccer match was planned. Instead he drags you to the boat shed. You hate it there. It’s dusty and cramped and there are cobwebs in the corners.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, your heart in your throat as Joel peers down at you, something unreadable in his deep brown eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he mimics you. “You think I don’t know you were gettin’ yourself off to me and Piper last night?”

The blood drains from your face, leaving you cold. “Wh-what?”

“Stop actin’ innocent. You weren’t exactly quiet. Piper was laughin’ at you, sayin’ you’re a lonely little virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin,” you tell him tersely.

“Really?” Joel’s voice is full of derision. “Prove it.”

The blood drains from your face. “H-how?”

“You’re a smart girl. You know how.” But just to be mean he explains it in detail. “How about you bend over–” he slaps the hull of a nearby canoe and puts his hand on your lower back, pressuring you towards it. “--pull those pretty little short-shorts down and let me check for myself.”

“You’re not serious,” you sputter.

“You afraid or somethin’?” he smirks.

You’re not afraid per se. But you’re definitely wet enough so that he’ll tease you if he finds out. “Of course not,” you stand up to him boldly.

He looks amused by this, and the way he cups his bulge in his own shorts shows he’s more than a little turned on. Your eyes drop down to where his thick cock is hardening under the skin-tight fabric.

With determination in your eyes, you’re certain of yourself when you reach up and grab Joel by the nape of his neck, kissing him. His eyes go wide at the initial shock of surprise, but then they close, a deep and satisfied growl in his chest as he kisses you back, his tongue slipping past your lips. Your gasp turns into a soft moan as his large paw on your lower back presses you closer to him, rubbing his hard-on against you.

“I bet this pussy’s already soaked,” he mutters, finally breaking from the kiss to nip at your neck. “But first..” he pulls away, a devilish look in his eye. “Lift up that shirt, honey, and lemme see those pretty titties.”

You scoff despite the fact that you are indeed soaked, but you’re already this far in. You might as well go all the way. You lift up your shirt, your white lacy bra on full display. Joel’s big meaty hands pull down the cups, palming your tits with his rough bare hands, bouncing them in his palms. “Look at these.. you gonna lemme suck ‘em?”

Fuck. This isn’t going how you expected but you can’t complain. You nod and he immediately pulls you close, picking you up and pinning you against the canoe as he takes your nipple in his mouth, groaning, using his free hand to pinch your other nipple. “So sweet,” he groans, releasing off you with a wet pop before sucking on the other.

“Joel!” you gasp, a fresh wave of wetness seeping through your underwear.

“Don’t worry, I’m gettin’ there,” he mumbles, helping you shimmy out of your shorts and pressing you forward against the boat. He lands a quick spank across your ass cheek, chuckling at the way your flesh jiggles and the sound of your yelp. Then he spreads your cheeks wide. “Look at that.. pretty as the mornin’ dew..” He kneels down and laps at your honey, making you moan. Almost too late you catch yourself, muffling your own sounds with your palm.

His large, rough hand trails down your spine, keeping you in place as the thick head of his cock slides through your folds, collecting your wetness and teasing you as he slides between your cheeks. You mewl in protest as he chuckles. “Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re not a virgin. Not the way you’re actin’ so greedy for my cock. Well darlin’, take it..”

He eases into you, using shallow thrusts and you can’t help but exhale, the rush of breath leaving you in surprise before he angles you down, sliding in to the hilt. “You’re full of me now,” he grunts out, holding steady to your hips. “God damn, tighter than a nun’s asshole.”

Your walls flutter around him with each stroke, your hands bracing you against the smooth wood of the upturned canoe. You whimper in time with each smooth thrust. Each time Joel bottoms out you feel it deep in your belly, probably deeper than anyone’s ever gone.

“Wish you could see how you’re soakin’ me,” Joel grunts, giving a few quick thrusts to let you hear the sound of your sloppy pussy. “How do you like it, darlin’? You want me to make a mess of you inside, or do you need me to pull out and shove this cock down your throat so you can swallow my load?”

“I-inside,” you pant. “I have an IUD.”

“That’s a relief,” Joel mutters, speeding up, one big hand wrapping around your front to tickle your clit. “C’mon, baby, need you to come on my cock before I bust inside you..”

He slows down just enough for you to work your way up to it, the heat building in your belly and your core, moaning at the way he lifts your hips to meet each thrust, sweat gathering at your temples. “Joel,” you whine, thinking of nothing but the way he’s fucking and filling and stretching your cunt. With an expertly angled thrust home you fall apart, moaning his name as you squeeze around him, and he picks up the pace, slamming into you until he swells inside you, his hot cum painting your walls. His cock is still twitching in the aftershocks when he finally releases his grip on your hips and pulls out of you. You quickly shove your underwear and shorts back on to catch his leavings already starting to leak out.

“Smart girl, bein’ on birth control,” Joel mutters, stuffing himself back into his own shorts. “I wish Piper was responsible like that.”

You school your features into nonchalance after you pull your shirt back down. There’s a little stab of guilt when you realize you’ve just fucked your bunkmate’s boyfriend.. even if she is a bitch. “What do you mean?” you ask innocently.

He reddens, as if he shouldn’t have spoken. “You’re sworn to secrecy, alright? Piper’s pregnant.”

“What?” Joel immediately clamps his hand over your mouth. He still smells like sex.

“Shut. Up,” he warns. “If I find out you told anyone else you’re packin’ your bags and goin’ home. Understand?”

You nod and whisper “Yes,” when he removes his hand. “It’s yours?”

He scoffs. “She says so. Still– not a peep. Got it?”

Piper becomes grumpy when Joel’s visits make an abrupt stop. But she’s no bitchier than usual, likely trying to get back into Joel’s good graces. Little does she know he’s only stopped coming to her because he’s taken up fucking you instead – in the storage shed, in the empty cots in the infirmary, the walk-in pantry in the kitchen. He maintains the position that he doesn’t like you very much while you’re in front of the others, sometimes giving you tasks you have to complete on your own – with the sole purpose of finding you to hook up.

The last night before the campers are due, everyone lets loose. Couples sneak off into the woods with sleeping bags and sinful intentions, some stay on the pier by the lake, drinking and laughing.

You’re the only one who’s made it to your bunk at an appropriate hour, wanting a full night’s rest before the big day. But your sleep is interrupted when Joel and Piper come in, slamming the door behind them, all over each other, kissing and giggling. With a silent groan you put your pillow over your head, already expecting to drown out the noises they’re about to make, which are going to keep you up all night.

They’re in the bottom bunk, a little quieter now that their mouths are busy. But soon there’s that familiar rocking rhythm and the sound of Piper’s moans and squeals, coming to a crescendo. Once again Joel’s stamina is off the charts. You’re in the middle of pleasuring yourself, two fingers shoved as deep as you can go, when everything stops and you hear Joel murmuring. There’s a creak as he gets out of the bunk, and Piper giggles as he positions her facing away. Now Joel’s eye level with your bunk and you gasp as you come face to face with him. He winks at you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you whisper as quietly as you can.

“She caught up with me. I couldn’t shake her,” he explains just as softly. “Don’t leave me hangin’, sweetheart. Bring that pretty pussy to my face.”

Without hesitating you lift up your nightdress, scooting to the edge of the bed, thighs spread around Joel’s face as he fucks into Piper – oblivious to everything going on – in the bottom bunk. He’s got his dick buried in her while he’s eating you out. You’ve never experienced anything hotter.

You hear Piper’s staccato cries as Joel pounds into her from behind, his own moans humming through your flesh, heightening your arousal, your clit standing at attention between Joel’s lips, his mustache tickling your soft skin. You already know you’re going to come when your legs start shaking, toes curling at the waves of pressure building up in your very core.

“Joel!” you try to whisper as softly as possible. “Joel!.. I’m gonna come!”

He only smacks harder into Piper, her own cries louder than yours. “Come for me,” he whispers back, the tip of his tongue giving one teasing swirl around your pearl before he dives back in. Your back arches off the bed, lightning shooting through your veins as your cunt pulses, drenching Joel’s mouth as you come. He groans, licking up every drop, watching you through his lashes. “Good girl,” he whispers, backing off when you become too sensitive, his lips warm on your inner thigh, stubble scratching at your soft skin as he pulls off of Piper, turning her around so she’s sucking him off.

You hear her moaning and sighing, gagging on his cock. Meanwhile Joel lazily fingers you, scissoring his digits inside your sloppy pussy, his eyes black and glossy while Piper deep-throats him. Your fingers card through his hair as you ignore the softening of your heart in seeing him so tame and vulnerable.

Your name is on his lips but he moans Piper just in the nick of time, his breaths growing unsteady as he comes close to the end, getting ready to bust in Piper’s mouth. You take his head in your cupped hands. “Come, Joel.. give her what she wants,” you whisper. He groans, his thrusts getting sloppy as he fucks his girlfriend’s throat, stilling at last, his features tensing then relaxing as Piper gasps softly, swallowing his thick load.

The next day Joel treats you the same as he always has. Everyone’s minds are on the Opening Day festivities ahead, even if some of the counselors look like they’ve only had a couple hours’ sleep. You’re bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, not just because of last night, but because you’re genuinely excited for summer camp to officially begin.

The campers hurry out of the stuffy buses and onto the rolling green grass, toting duffel bags, wearing the gold and blue camp tees and ball caps, eager for their summer to begin. Everyone is assigned to a counselor, and as soon as your group is ready you start to lead them to their cabin. You have a full day ahead: a quick icebreaker so everyone can become acquainted, a scavenger hunt that will enable the kids to work as a team, then a game of capture the flag, then lunch. You have your day cut out for you, and in the back of your mind you wonder if you’ll cross paths with Joel again..

Your thoughts are interrupted by someone shouting back at the buses. All the counselors turn to look, surprise written on their faces as they find one more latecomer to Camp Happy Trail.

Frankie Morales, adjusting the Standard Oil cap on his head, dark curls already sticking to the sweat on his neck, hurries off the last bus. His royal blue camp tee clings to his torso like sin, accentuating his broad frame. You’re speechless when he reaches you, putting his arms around you and lifting you off the ground before landing a big kiss on your lips. The campers are grossed out, giggling and making faces.

When he pulls away, cupping your face in his hands, you can feel everyone’s eyes on you, just as shocked as you are to see him finally arrive. “I missed you, babe,” he says, planting one more kiss on your forehead. “So what have I missed?”

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[holbrk]

if not puppy dawg eye'd, why so puppy dawg eye'd shaped?

[rosharanfiction]

THIS NEVER HAPPENED. modern! marcus acacius x female reader | part 1: The General

summary: The Friday before you start your new job, you get drunk and kiss a hot stranger. But it turns out Marcus isn’t just any stranger. He’s your brand-new boss, the guy who seems to get you like no other, and the last guy on earth you should want to kiss again.

non-smut tags: fluffy office romcom AU. ridiculously flirty Marcus. smartass do-gooder reader. banter. sweetness. a healthy dose of plot. reader has hair, but is not otherwise physically described. smut tags: Marcus is lowkey a horny animal. making out. fingering. a little dirty talk. public fooling around. they're drunk so dubcon. word count: 5.4K

andrea says: Written for @tateypots's PPCU Naughty or Nice challenge. Thank you so much for organizing it! I grew up on questionable 2000s romcoms, so I love this premise. My prompt is Marcus Acacius + "dating your boss" + nice. For the Grey’s Anatomy girlies (gn), yes this is deeply Derek and Meredith coded. I planned to release the whole thing at once, but haven't had much time to write lately, so I broke it into two parts and am just submitting the first. I tried not to end on too big a cliffhanger, and part 2 is already drafted. It should be out soon! Edit: Turning this into a series.

ao3 link | part 2 | 18+ only after this point. MDNI.

You liked Manhattan best in the evenings, when all the cafes and bagel shops began to roll up their awnings.  Midtown was never quiet, exactly – the subway always rumbled, steam gusted up from all the sidewalk grates, and neon signs thrummed in every run-down diner window. But there was a lull around twilight, after the commuters went home, when you swore you could feel the city readying itself, like some giant animal crouching before it burst into motion.

After a lifetime of following all the city’s rhythms, it felt wrong to go out this early, to wobble up from the subway in your tiniest skirt when the streets were still pink from the setting sun. But maybe tonight was meant to feel wrong. After all, this weekend marked the end of two eras.

The first was your era of trying to make a difference. The Manhattan you’d grown up in was slowly dying – all the affordable apartments, the run-down theaters and tiny bakeries had been priced out. For the last ten years, you’d devoted your life to saving them. But your legal aid firms were no match for corporate developers, and your pile of student debt was only getting larger. Earlier this year, your fourth employer in a row had gone out of business, and you’d finally given up. On Monday, you would start your new life as a sellout.

This was also the weekend that your favorite bar was closing. O’Henry’s was a sticky little dive, a New York staple, and you’d practically lived there all through your twenties. But the owners just couldn’t make rent anymore.  For their final weekend, they’d slashed all the prices and were throwing an “end of the world” celebration.

Doors opened at seven. You and your best friends Sky and Jana showed up at six. By then the line already wrapped around the block. By eleven, O’Henry’s was packed wall-to-wall.

It had to be eighty degrees inside, and the sticky room roared with a hundred conversations. You, Sky and Jana had claimed a prime booth in the corner, and the three of you were viciously defending it. Well, Sky and Jana were viciously defending it. You were viciously attempting to drown your sorrows in $4 martinis while winning at a game of Jenga.

You prodded one of the center blocks, and the tower wobbled above you.

“This Jenga game,” you declared morosely. “Is a metaphor for my career.”

Sky and Jana exchanged a long look.

“Towering?” Sky asked.

“Classic?” Jana added. “Fun for the whole family?”

You glared at the both of them. A cluster of finance guys with identical haircuts chose that moment to bump against the table, and the tower collapsed in a rain of wooden blocks. All three of you got hit on the head.

“Ow,” Sky muttered. They lifted a sodden Jenga block out of their cosmo and contemplated the remaining liquid. “Do you think this is still safe to drink?”

“Probably equally safe as it was before,” said Jana sagely. “I’m a medical professional. You can trust me.”

Jana was a yoga instructor, but she’d memorized all the bones in the human body for her certification, and in your martini-infused estimation this made her a doctor. You nodded your agreement, and Sky downed their drink.

You got to work fishing Jenga pieces out of the booth. You had a tower to rebuild.

“Hey,” said a voice. One of the finance guys. “Sorry about your game. But uh, you guys have been here a while, and we were wondering…”

“No,” you snapped. “You cannot both terrorize and claim our booth. Begone.”

Sky snickered behind you. The guy hesitated. You stared at him flatly.

“You’re still here,” you pointed out.

“There’s five of us,” he said. “And only three of you.”

“We have head wounds,” you said. “We need to sit down. My friend is a medical professional, and she thinks so, right?”

Jana bobbed her head. “It’s life-or-death.”

The finance guy still wasn’t moving. Your little disagreement had caught the attention of a few other patrons now, including a guy in the next booth over. You met his eyes for a second, and the corner of his mouth lifted.

Well. There was only one thing you hated more than losing, and it was losing with an audience. You leveled the finance guys with your steeliest glare.

“Lane v. McNab,” you said. “In 1991, a drunken Jon McNab crashed his bike into a pile of grocery crates. One fell and injured Susan Lane’s arm, and she won a civil suit for the damages. Fifty thousand dollars.”

The finance guy blinked. “What –”

“That was just an arm,” you continued. “Think of what we could get for head trauma. And there’s three of us.”

When the finance guys continued to stare blankly, you rolled your eyes. “I’m saying we’ll sue you, Brooks Brothers, if you give us a reason. There’s precedent.”

The five of them evaporated. Sky burst into laughter.

“Grocery crates? Seriously? You couldn’t have made up something better?”

“I didn’t make it up,” you said. “That actually happened. The plaintiff was a typist, and the defendant had to cover her backpay when she couldn’t work.” You dropped a handful of Jenga blocks on the table. “Now, do we think it’s sacrilege to try and build a pyramid?”

You felt the pull of someone’s gaze. The guy in the next booth.

He was kind of hot, you realized, with broad, round shoulders and wavy hair that curled around his ears. An expensive-looking watch glinted on his wrist, and he was dressed in a deep blue suit. It fit him well, but something about the set of his shoulders seemed out of place in formalwear – almost as out of place as formalwear seemed in a bar like O’Henry’s.

The man was alone in his booth, but he’d somehow managed to keep the finance guys off his back. It struck you that he wasn’t on his phone. Either his thoughts were so quiet they didn’t bother him, or they were so loud he had to look at them head-on.

He held your gaze, and heat fluttered through your chest.

You snapped your attention back to Sky and Jana. They’d apparently watched the whole exchange. Sky leaned over and stage-whispered in your ear.

“He’s been checking you out for, like, hours.”

“What?” you said. “No, he hasn’t.”

Jana turned to look over her shoulder at the guy, then nodded back at you approvingly. Your face burned.

“Stop that,” you muttered. Tonight was not about guys, no matter how very deep their eyes might look.  

Jana was mouthing something at you now. “You – should – talk – to – him.”

You shook your head at her. Meeting strangers in bars was a recipe for letdown, and you’d been through enough disappointment lately.

“Fine,” Jana said. “Sky and I will just go get another round. Maybe squeeze in a dance or two. You don’t mind watching the booth, right?”

Her tone was breezy, as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing. Before you could protest, the two of them got up, leaving you alone with the stranger.

You were sure they meant for him to come over, but the finance guys closed in first.

They’d refilled their drinks, and all five of them crowded around the edge of your table. Seriously? Didn’t they have anywhere else to lurk?

“Still occupied,” you told them.

“Come on,” their ringleader said. He had watery eyes, and he swayed slightly as he spoke. “There’s plenty of space. Look.”

He sat down next to you in Jana’s empty seat.  

Damn it. If you couldn’t get him to stand in the next few seconds, you’d lose the table for sure. On a different night, you might not have cared, but this was your bar. You’d come here five hours early to score this booth.

“Get up,” you said. “My friends will be back.”

The ringleader didn’t budge. He gave you a taunting look, as if he knew as well as you did that you couldn’t make him. Frustration crawled beneath your skin.

A smooth, commanding voice sounded from behind the pack of guys.

“Excuse me. You’re in my seat.”

It was the man from the next booth over. He’d come up to stand behind the finance guys. Now that he was on his feet, you realized how tall he was – enough to tower above the pack. There was something about him that emanated power, and it came from more than just his sheer size. You thought it was the way he carried himself, like he was used to bending the world to his will.

He glanced sidelong at you, and his expression softened, as if the two of you were in on some shared joke. Then the weight of his focus fell on the ringleader.

The smaller man appeared to be both deeply intimidated and trying hard not to be. For a tense three seconds, he held his ground, shrinking back against the leather of the booth. Then he dropped his eyes.

With a half-muttered “sorry, man,” he led the pack away. The tall stranger grinned at you.

“I’m surprised they came back after your threat to sue.”

“Me too,” you agreed. “Thanks. You should sit. If you want to.”

The booth he’d vacated was already full. It was the least you could do. And… okay, he was extremely good-looking.

The stranger hesitated, then slid into the booth beside you.

“I’m Marcus,” he said.

He held out a hand, and you scooted close enough to take it. His palm was warm, and it swallowed yours completely.

You told him your name, and he repeated it back to you.

“Pretty,” he commented.

Up close, you saw grey in his beard and at his temples. It suited him, in a hot forty-something way. Faint frown lines were etched into his forehead, but they seemed at-odds with the playful look he was giving you now.

“Where’d your friends go?” he asked.

You gestured toward the bar, where the throng hid Sky and Jana from view, and gave a vague explanation. The DJ had begun a long run of 90s throwbacks, so you’d probably lost them to the dancefloor.

Marcus watched you steadily as you spoke. Between the martinis and the pull of his attention, it was harder than it should have been to form coherent words.

“You know,” you said. “You’re the first person I’ve ever seen in a suit at O’Henry’s.”

Marcus lifted an eyebrow. “Are you asking what a guy like me is doing in a place like this?”

You laughed. “I guess I am. But I actually want to know.”

“I’ve been coming here a long time,” he said. “I like that it’s always stayed the same as it used to be.”

“I get it,” you said. “The city feels like it’s disappearing sometimes.”

For a moment, Marcus’s face shifted, folding in on itself to fill in all his frown lines. Then the sadness fled his face so quickly that you weren’t sure if you’d imagined it.

“I know,” he said quietly. “You grew up here, then?”

“Lower east side,” you confirmed.

“I knew it,” he said. “You act like a textbook New Yorker.”

You lifted an eyebrow. “I feel like you’re telling me I’m bitchy right now.”

“I would’ve said direct…”

“Uh-huh. Good save.”

Marcus’s knee bumped yours beneath the table.

“I mean it,” he said. “Direct is a good thing. You’re probably a killer negotiator.”

“I am,” you agreed.

He grinned. “And I’m from the city, too,” he continued. “So if you’re… direct… then I have to be just as bad.”

It turned out Marcus had grown up in Brooklyn. The conversation devolved into reminiscing from there. You traded stories about the huge blackouts in the 2000s, about your shitty first apartments and the roommates who’d lived in them.

Marcus had a careful way of telling stories, always pausing to arrange all the information in the right order. The closer your questions got to his day-to-day life, the more he seemed reluctant to answer. He didn’t bring up his job, and a part of you was relieved. You hardly wanted to talk about your own.

You didn’t know him well enough to be sure, but you suspected he was already a few drinks in. His face was flushed, and he had a way of tilting toward you as you spoke, his long arm braced on the back of the booth.

At some point you’d shifted close to one another, and his thigh kept brushing yours underneath the table. He felt enormous up close, and the rest of the booth, not to mention the bar beyond it, felt somehow like a distant world. Your hand lifted of its own accord and trailed over Marcus’s arm. He was a muscular guy, with a thick chest and bulky arms, but he moved easily in his suit jacket. It had to be bespoke. Whatever job he wasn’t talking about, it paid very well.

A little too late, you realized you had both stopped talking. And you were now blatantly staring at Marcus’s chest. You trailed your eyes back to his face and saw him fight off a smile.

“Hey,” you said.  

Marcus’s eyes flickered with amusement. He brought his thumb up to trace your bottom lip.  

“Hi,” he answered.

He lowered his head, and you tilted up into his gravity. Your heart stuttered. Marcus’s nose brushed yours. He tucked a hand beneath your chin and guided you into a kiss.  

With a soft scrape of stubble, his bottom lip slid into your mouth. A sigh slipped out of you, and you felt Marcus shudder. Holding you in place, he coaxed your mouth open and licked slowly into it. Heat shivered through you, and you melted against him, splaying your hands on his chest.

A heavy sound drifted up from Marcus’s throat. His arms encircled you, and with one sharp tug he pulled you to sit sideways across his lap.

Time moved strangely, minutes dripping into one-another. Marcus’s hands roamed up and down your sides, pressing heat into you through your flimsy top. At some point you’d fumbled his shirt-collar open, and now your hand was inside it, trailing up the side of his neck. Marcus’s palms slid down your ribcage, and this time his fingers dipped beneath the hem of your shirt.

He touched your bare stomach, and your senses flooded. Heedless of your surroundings, you guided his hand upward.

Marcus groaned softly, and you felt him shake his head.

“People will see,” he murmured against your mouth.

You were about to protest that you didn’t care when you felt his hand move lower. He traced the outside of your bare thigh, then brought his fingers up beneath the hem of your skirt.

Some distant part of you - the part that hadn’t been destroyed by martinis or Marcus’s mouth – had the decency to wonder if this was wrong. But Marcus’s hand was sliding higher now, circling over your sensitive inner thigh, and decency seemed very unimportant.

You let your legs drift apart, and Marcus brushed you once through your panties.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re already soaked through.”

He shifted his hips, and a hot feeling bolted through you. He was hard. You could feel him straining against his pants, the thick line of his erection pressing against your upper thigh. It would be so easy to sling your leg around his waist, he could undo his zipper, and…

A glass shattered from the other side of the bar, and you and Marcus both stiffened. The kiss broke, and he rested his forehead to yours.

“What are you doing to me?” he murmured.  

“I’m not doing anything,” you protested. “You’re the one who – fuck.”

Marcus traced a finger over the outline of your slit. Static crackled through your mind. You whined softly, and Marcus tilted his mouth forward to kiss you again. He pulled your underwear aside and slid two thick fingers along your folds.

“Come home with me,” he said.

You didn’t know if he was asking or ordering, didn’t know which you wanted, could hardly even breathe with the way he was touching you, with the pad of his middle finger circling your entrance. You spread your legs wider, and he made a low, desperate sound.

“Please,” he murmured. “I need to have you.”

“Marcus…” you managed.

When you didn’t say more, he pushed his finger inside you. The stretch ached through you, deep and sweet and not enough. You felt something bigger than pleasure now – hot shame, and giddy exhilaration, a whole-body thrill that had you biting back a moan.

You’d never done anything like this before. How much of it was visible to the rest of the room? Marcus’s hand was moving beneath the table, but surely people could see how close you were, could guess where his arm led.   

“Come home with me,” Marcus repeated. “I can feel how bad you want it.” He slid his finger out of you, then pushed it slowly back in. “You’d take it so good.”

Your body throbbed with the need to say yes. But when you thought about it… getting in a cab with Marcus, riding the elevator to his apartment, seeing all the details of his life…

You didn’t know anything about him. Not really. You didn’t want that lonely morning-after feeling that always hit you after one-night stands. Not this weekend. Not when you’d come here to be with your friends.

You caught Marcus’s wrist and guided his hand out from between your legs, ignoring the pang you felt at the loss of him.

“I can’t,” you said.

Marcus loosened his hold on you and shifted back far enough to scan your face. His eyes were glazed over, pupils blown, and you thought you saw confusion knotting behind them.

“I’m not… I don’t like to go home with strangers,” you explained.

Some of the fog lifted from Marcus’s gaze.

“Oh,” he said. “Okay. I understand.” He tucked a strand of hair back from your face. His mouth twisted, like he was deciding whether or not to say more.

“I… I don’t really do this either,” he blurted. “I don’t want you to think… I don’t know.” He ran a rueful hand over his swollen mouth, and let out a slow sigh.

“What’s your number?” he asked. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

You bit your lip. The rational thing to do was say yes. Marcus was gorgeous, and he’d stood up for you, and he touched you like he knew what he was doing. But who knew what he was really like outside of this? Even if he was this great all the time, that was almost worse than the alternative. You’d just been crushed professionally. You couldn’t also risk getting your heart broken right now.

“I’m not really doing phone numbers at the moment,” you said.

Marcus’s mouth twitched into a half-smile.

“What, then?” he asked. “Instagram?”

You hesitated.

Marcus bent his head and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Email?” He kissed your jaw. “Messenger pigeon?” His lips brushed your cheek. “If you say Snapchat, that might be a dealbreaker.”

He pulled back, and you forced yourself not to return his grin. Understanding crept into his eyes, and a crease appeared in the center of his brow.

“It’s not that I didn’t have a good time tonight,” you began.

“You don’t have to explain,” Marcus said.  He slid you gently off his lap and unwound his arms from your waist. “I’ll leave you to your friends. It’s getting late for me.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Okay.”

 He stood from the booth and buttoned his jacket in a single fluid motion.

“Have a good night,” he said.

You nodded. “It was… nice to meet you.”

Marcus vanished into the crowd, and you slumped against the booth. You felt a strange cocktail of emotions – an ache in your chest, lingering tendrils of desire, and a low pulse of dread for your coming Monday morning. You were still sorting through it when Sky and Jana returned.

They slid into the booth, both giving you pointed looks.

“What?” you asked.

Sky grinned. “You have lipstick on your face,” they said. “The non-lips part of your face.”

Oh, god, you probably looked a mess. Jana dipped a napkin in her vodka soda and passed it to you. She and Sky went into interrogation mode while you wiped your face. You told them more or less what you knew about Marcus – leaving out the biblical knowing part – and did your best to change the subject. You didn’t need them telling you you’d done the wrong thing.

“It’s not a big deal,” you finally said. “It’s not like I’m ever going to see him again.”

In the end, you were glad you hadn’t gone home with Marcus. He was better as a memory, one wildly slutty moment outside of your real life. You… remembered it… that following night before you fell asleep, and again the one after that. It was a good distraction from the first-day-of-work outfit laid out on your dresser, from the pit of guilt twisting in your stomach.

Your new job wasn’t any old corporate law position. You’d been hired by Roman Industries, the biggest real-estate developer in the city. Roman had a way of jumping on every new property before it hit the market, and three of the four non-profits you’d worked at had folded thanks to the competition. It was impossible to build income-restricted housing when Roman bought all the would-be locations and turned them into luxury high-rises. And Roman was simply unbeatable: so massive that it was impossible to outbid them, and so well-connected that legal checks didn’t matter.

You’d come close to outmaneuvering them a few times at your old jobs, and apparently impressed Roman's legal team enough that they wanted you. If they’d approached you five years ago, you would’ve happily told them to go to hell. But nowadays, in property law, there was hardly anywhere else left to work.

You knew that you didn’t have much choice. You told yourself it would be temporary. You really tried not to get excited when the signing bonus landed in your checking account. But you still felt like a traitor when Monday morning rolled around and you showed up to work at the Roman Industries skyscraper.

A marble façade surrounded the building, made of tall, ridged columns that towered up over Park Avenue. More marble lined the lobby inside. It was three stories tall, and so dimly lit that it had to be intentional. A river of commuters poured in through the revolving doors, and the cavernous room echoed with hundreds of clacking footsteps. Maybe you were biased, but the overall impression was a little too much like the gates of a dark lord’s evil empire.

You half expected your orientation to be some sort of occult ritual. Blood oaths, or at least a vow of loyalty. Instead, you spent the morning in run-of-the-mill HR trainings, the same ones you’d gotten at all your old jobs. Even dark lords needed two-factor authentication.

You wouldn’t be working as a part of the legal team at Roman. Not directly, anyway. They’d contacted you last week with your assignment, and you were now head counsel for their biggest department. The Acquisitions Team. The exact people who’d bought all the properties out from your previous companies.

You were determined not to like them, but the woman from Acquisitions who came to get you after your trainings was perfectly pleasant. Her name was Ava, and she had a low, musical voice. She introduced herself as a director, which you thought was the highest rank after the department’s president.

“Next highest,” she corrected. She held open the elevator door, then pressed the button for the second floor from the top. “Technically, legal counsel is the second-in-command.”

You were in charge? Briefly, you wondered if this meant you could make everyone stop buying up the city. But the department president would probably veto that.

The elevator dinged open, and you stepped out into a commotion. A huge open space filled the middle of the Acquisitions floor, dotted with clusters of desks where suit-clad associates talked loudly on phones, or talked to each other, or wrote up long proposals on their computers.

Ava led you through the center of it, and you realized there was some sort of underlying structure. Each cluster of desks seemed to be a sub-team. One had models of buildings set upon it, another stacks of financial documents. There seemed to be a head to every cluster, and you were reminded briefly of army platoons.  

Ava walked on into a carpeted hallway, and the conversations faded to a muted roar. You passed a long row of doors with brass nameplates, and stopped in front of the second one from the end of the hall.  

The door was made of smooth wood, inset with a panel of frosted glass. You turned the polished brass doorknob, pushed open the door, and for the first time understood just how different your life would be at Roman.

A thick burgundy carpet spread out over the floor, bridging two walls lined with deep built-in bookshelves. There was space enough between them for a massive desk, and a pair of armchairs arranged around a good-sized coffee table. But all of that paled when you took in the windows.

There was a whole wall of them, floor-to-ceiling panels spilling morning light into the room. The city glittered outside, and – woah – you had a view of the Chrysler Building?

You caught Ava biting back a smile and realized you were probably gaping. You took another look around and noticed a comfy-looking executive chair behind the desk. There was also a second door in your office, inset in the wall opposite your desk. You’d have to find out where it led.

“Are all the offices this nice?” you asked.

Ava shook her head. “Yours is second-best on the floor. Almost as good as the General’s.”

“The General?”

You already hated the Acquisitions President on principle. But if he insisted on being called the General, you might be hurling yourself through your new windows.

Ava laughed. “Don’t tell him I used that name. He hates it when we call him that. But it’s fitting.”

“That’s sinister,” you said.

“No, he’s alright!” Ava insisted. “I’m supposed to take you to him now. Unless you’d like to check out the floor’s kitchen first? It’s stocked with Roman’s own brand of bottled spring water.”

You suspected she was serious, but you’d have to check later. You’d been dreading meeting your new boss all morning, and it was time to get this over with. You were certain that you wouldn’t like him, but you had no choice except to work alongside him, and you’d feel better once you knew what he was like.

“I’m good for now,” you said. “I think I’m General-ready.”

Ava nodded. You expected her to walk back out the door you’d come through, but she went instead to the one inside your office. She knocked smartly on it and didn’t wait for an answer before pulling it open.

The office on the other side was a slightly larger mirror of your own. The built-ins were full of neatly bound files, carefully displayed Diplomas, and a few awards emblazoned with Roman’s glossy burgundy logo. Instead of armchairs, a low leather couch stretched out facing the windows.

You turned your attention to the desk, where a dark-haired man in a perfectly tailored suit was pushing to his feet. He closed the button of his jacket in a single, all-too-familiar motion, then looked up at you and went completely rigid.

You looked back at Marcus in utter shock, your pulse thudding in your ears. A rapid-fire sequence of emotions was flashing across his face. Delight. Confusion. Horror. Disbelief.

He was so terrible at hiding his feelings that it would have been amusing if your mind wasn’t currently on overdrive. Ludicrously, you found yourself racking through all the HR trainings you’d just attended, as though you might have forgotten one entitled, “My New Boss Just Had His Fingers Inside Me.”.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Ava glance between the two of you

“Sorry,” she said carefully. “Were you in the middle of something, Marcus?”

“No,” Marcus said. His voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat, and spoke again louder. “No. I… wasn’t.”

“Okay…” Ana said. “Well, the new legal counsel is here.”

“Right,” he said. “Yes.”

He rounded the desk and offered you the same handshake you'd accepted on Friday. You clasped his palm, and the both of you held on a little too long.

In the daylight, you could see his coloring more clearly. His hair was a rich brown, threaded through with silver, and his eyes were warm and dark.

“I’m Marcus Acacius,” he said.

“Yes,” you agreed. “You are.”

A hint of a laugh showed behind Marcus’s eyes. Warmth curled inside you, and for a moment you were back in that dark corner booth. Distantly, you hard Ava saying your name, telling you she’d meet you in the kitchen.

The door closed behind her. Marcus gestured to the couch, and you both sat down on opposite ends.  His stunned expression had worn off, and it was harder now to read the look on his face.

“So,” he finally said. “Did you get home safe on Friday?”

“No,” you quipped. “My cab driver axe-murdered me.”

Marcus’s mouth twitched. “That’s a shame. I really need a new legal counsel.”

“Because you’re the president of Roman’s acquisitions team,” you said.

Marcus nodded.

“How long have you worked here?” you asked.

“Going on twenty-five years,” Marcus said. “Most of the people who trained me are retired by now, and the whole board’s turned over since I started, but… I’m still running Acquisitions.”

There was something in his voice that tugged at your chest, but you were having a hard time focusing on it right now. How was Marcus the guy who’d stolen all those properties out from under your old companies? The guy leading Roman Industries in their takeover of New York? How had you hooked up with him?

He’d been at O’Henry’s to mourn its closing… but Roman was the reason prices had skyrocketed so much. What the hell was going on?

Part of you felt vindicated that you hadn’t slept with him. This was just about the worst case scenario, as far as who he could’ve turned out to be. Part of you was furious with him for everything he’d done. Part of you was heating up with humiliation, because you’d touched yourself to the thought of him last night. And the rest of you… the rest of you was watching the seams of his jacket buckle around his shoulders.  

You forced yourself to think of something else.

“So, we have adjoining offices?” you asked.

“We do. It’s been useful in the past, being able to talk to Legal without alerting the whole floor.”

You bobbed your head, privately thinking that Marcus could just message you on Teams if it came down to that.

Marcus hadn’t stopped studying your face.

“I know this is a… specific situation,” he said. “If you want, there’s an HR form we can fill out. For conflicts of interest. There’s a power structure here, so –”

“No thanks,” you said.

Marcus was a department president who’d been around for a lifetime. You were a highly replaceable lawyer. If HR got involved, it wouldn’t be to help you.

“Look,” you said. “I think we should pretend this never happened. It was just a kiss.”

Marcus lifted an eyebrow in obvious disagreement, and your skin burned at the memory of his finger pushing into you. You’d take it so good.

You cleared your throat. Marcus was suddenly intently studying a patch of carpet, a flush creeping up his neck.

“Anyway,” he said. “Whatever you say. Nothing ever happened.”

“Right,” you agreed. “Yes.”

Marcus pushed up from the couch. “In that case,” he said. “We should get to work.”

He crossed over to the bookshelf and reached up to take down a file. You took in the tall line of him, the smooth taper down from his shoulders to his waist, and promised yourself that this would be completely fine.

part 2

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“for emergencies only” — an oldman!joel miller drabble

main masterlist | ao3 pairing: oldman!jackson!joel miller x f!reader summary: joel has a lil' accident, but you know exactly how to help. or joel cums in his boxers a bit too early and you feed him a blue pill for endurance. a/n: uhm... yeah, hi? i promise you this fic wrote itself, i almost had nothing to do with it. i am so fucking feral over this man, can't flush him out of my system. lord have mercy... 🙇‍♀️ tags/warnings: 18+, mdni. pwp. filthy smut. joel cums in his boxers like the old man he is. mortified!joel but you make him feel good i promise <3 use of viagra. kneading the bulge, kissing the bulge, worshipping the bulge. pussy eating. face/nose riding. squirting. fingering. your slick is his hair gel (scent marking? idk). blowjob. you go cowgirl on him because the poor man can't do extraneous exercise, protect his bones. unprotected piv. creampie. age gap, no age gap, your choice. petnames. no description of reader other than afab. w/c: ~4.2k

Joel let go of a big sigh, knees cracking as he sat down on the couch. Even taking a shower was damn exhausting at his age—he preferred it when you scrubbed his back in the bath, massaged his biceps and forearms, gently squeezed his dick while the movement created rippling waves in the water.

He’d only managed to comb through his dry, silvery curls, to throw a worn shirt and some loose boxers on, before he needed to take a break. He was getting too old to go on long, extenuating patrols. Perhaps Joel should take up Tommy’s offer and solely focus on managing the construction in Jackson. He’d have more time with you that way too.

His mind was drifting away, thinking about all the things he would do to you in his free time, when his most delicious desire materialised in front of him. His precious little thing—you.

“Why are you so lonely over here, handsome?” you teased, lips curling into a sinful smile.

You lost no time, sitting beside him, snuggling up to his side. Joel’s arm draped around your shoulders instinctively, his fingertips tracing lazy circles on your collarbone.

“I dunno, someone didn’t want to join me in the shower…” he pouted slightly, a laugh tearing up your throat as you poked his ribs with one finger.

“I told you to wait for me, but you’re a grumpy old man who has no patience,” you reproached jokingly.

His eyes rolled back in exasperation, but you were right. He’d just wanted to hop in the shower as soon as he got home, ready to dust off the fatigue of the day.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, shrugging.

His hand slowly moved away from your collarbone up to your neck. Carefully, his fingers dug around your throat, just enough for you to look up at him and gape for air—the sweet pressure on your trachea making you gasp like a little fish out of the water.

“Give your old man a kiss, will ya?” he husked, bowing down his head.

You reached up to him, mouth agape, almost touching his lips. You froze there, your sight simmering with need, awaiting his permission… and when his eyes flicked with lust, you closed the distance and pressed your lips on his.

The kiss quickly became sloppy, your spit coating the stubble around his mouth. Muted, needy moans bubbled up your windpipe—an irresistible call of nature, silently begging him to give you what you wanted, what you needed.

How could he resist you? Joel simply couldn’t, especially when your hand landed on his knee and the making out session came to an end, the tip of your nose tracing his jawline before you pressed a kiss to his beating jugular and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

Your palm squeezed the back of his hairy knee, slowly sliding it up his thigh whilst he manspread on the couch. His brown eyes tracked your every move, his legs’ muscles tensing as you playfully approached his groin. A pull in his soft tummy made him flinch when you reached the dip between his crotch and thigh, his cock hardening at the seductive tease.

A throaty moan rumbled through his chest when you tightly gripped the flesh of his inner thigh, thumb lazily stroking the outline of his shaft over the boxers.

“You’re a bit starved for touch today, aren’tcha?” you nudged him, lips pressed against the shell of his ear.

His cock twitched.

“And whose fault is that?” he snapped back, nerves on edge.

You simply giggled, shaking your head as your hand finally cupped his growing bulge. Gently kneaded him, massaging his aching balls over the fabric. Joel could feel the warmth of your touch seeping through the boxers, compelling him to grow bigger, harder, thicker.

Your palm rubbed against the covered length of him, then dropped to his sacks again—and, irremediably, his hips bucked up, bare heels dug in the wooden floor. He thoroughly enjoyed it when you cupped his balls like that—lovingly, languidly, exquisitely, taking the weight off him so he could find some bliss.

Seeing you so locked in on his pleasure, your tongue darting out to wet your lips… It just added to your appeal, another reason to love you. Because he did—fuck, yes he did, with all his fucking heart.

Suddenly, you squeezed his balls a bit too harsh, holding your grip as if your life depended on him, kissing his jawline. The unexpected squash on his testicles forced a moan out of him—and something else.

A firing pulse took a hold of him, surging down from his spine directly into his balls, and inevitably his cock throbbed with releasing strength. Joel couldn’t have stopped himself even if he wanted to. He first felt the sticky warmth soaking his boxers, and his eyes quickly shot down to his lap.

There was a wet, growing spot on his underwear. He’d fucking cummed in his boxers like an inexperienced teenager—or the old man he was, despite how adamant he was to deny it—and he wasn’t even fully hard yet.

Embarrassed wouldn’t even start to cover it. Joel was fucking mortified.

His mouth ran dry, heartrate throbbing in his eardrums like a shameful cacophony. This had never occurred before—cumming way too early in his loose boxers, the proof right there for you to see, staining the grey fabric. It happened so fast, so intensely, Joel hadn’t had the time to rein in his own orgasm.

His face flushed with abasement; the tips of his ears hot as embers. Unwrapping his arm from around your shoulders, Joel leaned back, his head slacking back and resting on top of the couch. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his free hand tight in a fist, before a trembling sigh escaped his lips.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he whispered, unable to look at you.

“Oh, it’s okay, baby,” you replied reassuringly, your tone too sweet for the circumstances you both were in. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, forcing his hand out of his face. “This just proves how much you love me, so much you can’t even resist me. It’s hot.”

Joel finally had the courage to look you in the eye, a cocked brow showing his disbelief.

“Hot? You think it’s hot I just came in my boxers with a lil’ tugging?” he repeated out loud, unable to believe what you just had said. “I’m not even hard, sweetheart. It’s… humiliating.”

You nodded to his question, your top teeth sinking in your plump bottom lip. Your eyes locked in on his as your hand travelled down his frame, your thumb stroking the obvious wet spot in his underwear.

“Mhm,” you cooed with a playful grin. “Very hot, not humiliating. And I can fix that. Fix him so we can have a good cuddle.”

“I don’t think I can…” you silenced him with a kiss before you got up from the couch and disappeared into the kitchen without another word.

A minute later you were back, towering above him with a sinful little smirk, one hand hidden behind your back.

“Open your mouth,” you requested.

“Huh?”

“Just open it for me, please?” you dragged the last word, blinking rather exaggeratedly.

Joel huffed his disagreement, but ended up obeying. His tongue slid out, patiently waiting for whatever you had in mind. With a flourish, you opened your fist to reveal a blue pill. His eyes lighted up in understanding—he thought he had run out of viagra.

“I always keep a secret stock,” you confessed, reading his mind. “For emergencies only.”

Slowly, you set the pill down on his tongue, your thumb caressing the tip of his wet muscle before you retreated to let him close his mouth. Before Joel could swallow, you bowed down to kiss him, your tongue pushing the pill down his throat with a little needy moan.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, the pill secure in his belly now. It was just a matter of time, but meanwhile…

“Let me make it up to you, sweetheart,” he growled, the taste of your sweet cunt haunting him. “You deserve to be eaten out—so thoughtful of your old man. It’s what you enjoy most, right? Having your swollen pussy drooling all over my face, leaking into my mouth…”

His words had an immediate effect on you. Joel knew exactly how to get you off—not that you needed any more encouragement. Your clit was already palpitating, your hole gushing for his attention. The promise of a good pussy eating was everything you’d hoped for after feeding him that viagra pill.

You straightened your back, ready to get started, and Joel slithered off the couch until he was sat on the floor, his achy back leaned against the bottom part of the sofa. He sat back a little, his head resting on the edge of the couch while your pants and underwear dropped to the floor.

“Someone’s eager,” he taunted when you kicked off your clothing to one side.

“Oh, that’s an understatement,” you exhaled sharply.

Joel curled one long, thick finger at you to invite you to sit on his face, and that was exactly what you did.

You knelt on the sofa, his head right between your thighs, and you anchored your hands to the back of the furniture. His warm breath fanned your pussy, a shiver running up your spine. His broad, calloused hands ran up the back of your legs, coaxing your ass cheeks apart so your slit would crack open for him.

“My sweet girl… You’re already so wet,” he tutted at you, pecking your perineum, the tip of his aquiline nose tickling your entrance. “You really like your old man, don’tcha?”

You were about to answer when Joel lapped your entire seam in one smooth motion before his mouth latched onto your pulsing clit. You sobbed audibly, head lolled back, fingers curling tightly around the cushion of the backrest. Only managing a hushed “mhm,” Joel suckled on your throbbing nub again, pulling the hood back with his tongue.

A myriad of stars danced behind your eyelids when Joel gently nibbled at your bud, his middle finger sliding in your tight hole to rub that precise spot inside your cunt. He ate you out diligently—sucked, licked, bit, flicked your clit… rinse and repeat. Your pussy fluttered around his finger, your moans louder than they should have been considering the thin walls of the house. Sensing your desperation, Joel’s finger slipped out with a pop, to quickly fill your drooling entrance with his tongue.

It was too much—deliciously so. When you thought you’d had the best head ever, Joel always outdid himself. His wet muscle thrusted in and your pussy reciprocated with stuttering squeezes on his tongue. He didn’t falter, not even for a breather—as if he was trying to pull something out of your cunt.

“Jo-Joel…” you mewled, half whimper, half prayer.

You were so drenched, you could feel a flood forming in your womb—a heap of your arousal waiting to drip into his mouth. A tight coil low in your belly with a strangling force, so intense your shut eyes were tearing up, the drops of your silent cries sliding off your temples. Joel didn’t leave a spot unattended, worshipping your puffy pussy lips, your gushing hole, your thudding clit with his tongue and teeth.

Unable to rein in your own lust anymore, you dropped one hand and fisted his hair, forcing him to stay put, still between your trembling thighs. Your body was asking to take control, to let go of the tethers of decency—not that you had much left anyway.

“Wanna ride my face, hm?” Joel muttered with a shaky laugh.

“Mhmmm,” you moaned, shaking your head yes, your bottom lip twitching.

“Go on, baby, use me,” and then he rolled your bundle of nerves between his teeth.

That was the last straw—his words, your undoing. So you did exactly that. Still anchoring his head to the couch, you rocked your hips on his face, just once. His nose traced the entirety of your slit, catching on your clit, and you whined. A second later you were completely sat on his face, almost smothering him, while you rode not only his face, but specifically his nose.

Looking down, you saw his forehead reappear when your hips moved back. Every time you glided over him, the coil tightened and the flood dropped further down in your uterus. Stilling, you circled your waist on his mouth, and then resumed the riding.

It happened too quickly. Suddenly, the dam in your pussy just gave way, and you squirted all over his face while the most wanton moan tore up your throat, your vocal chords feeling raw from so much screaming. The biggest wave—no, tsunami—of your life washed over you, your thighs quivering like crazy while you locked them shut around his head.

Joel eagerly drank everything you offered him, groaning below you like a thirsty man who had not tasted water in days. For a long minute you couldn’t control the spasms of your cunt, dripping onto his nose, mouth and chin, your slick running down his neck and wetting the neck of his shirt.

Heaving, all your muscles finally relaxed, and you dropped to one side to release Joel from the imprisonment of your thighs. A side glance at Joel told you that he was licking off your juices from anywhere his tongue could reach, and that vision made you whimper again.

“I… Uh…” you mumbled, incapable of finding the words to describe what had just happened. “That was… the best head you’ve ever given me, you handsome old man.”

“You mean the best head you’ve ever had, full stop. Right?” he joked while he planted his hands on the edge of the couch to push himself up and sit besides you, his knees loudly cracking.

You laughed, nodding vehemently as you curled up to his side. His face was still wet from your cum, so you swept off some of it for him, kissing it away. The curls freely hanging over his forehead were damp with your slick too, and just that sight made your clit throb again. Raking your fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair, you combed it back with the product of your arousal.

“You don’t need hair gel if you’ve got me,” you said with a smile, and Joel tsked before letting go of a hearty chuckle.

“My personal hairdresser,” Joel quipped.

His laugh died in his mouth when your taunting hand flew to his bulge again. This time, he was extremely hard. Balls loaded and heavy, cock drumming.

“How’s my toy doing? Ready?” It was a rhetoric question, you could feel how ready he was.

“All… yours,” his words hitched, eyes darkening with a burning desire.

Without wasting another second, you knelt before him on the floor, his thighs spread open to house your frame. You couldn’t resist to lean forward and kiss the wet spot on his underwear, stealing a quick taste. Licking off the stain, you gazed up at him.

Joel was watching your every move with predatory attention, his tight fists resting to either side of him. Trying to convey calmness, but you could feel the eagerness simmering under the surface.

You buried your face in his bulge again, rubbing him over the fabric with your mouth, lips and cheeks. Kneaded him with worshipping heed, pulling the textile between your teeth, drunk with the crispy, sticky sound the wet boxers made when they unglued from his damp cock. Feeling his heartbeat, you inhaled keenly—his scent swarming your senses.

You could spend hours like this, with your face tucked away in his groin, feeling the length of him hardening against your cheek. But you were anxious to shove him down your throat.

Your fingers curled around the waistband of his old man’s loose boxers, and Joel lifted his hips off the pillows just enough for you to pull them down his legs, tangled around his ankles. His dick sprung free, swaying in front of you like a tasty lollypop. Cockhead flushed and painfully red, the vein on his underside visibly pulsing, his heavy, full balls tightened up into the base of his dick. And then the cum he’d been so embarrassed about, topping his mushroom head and sliding off his shaft.

It really was a beautiful sight. You pushed his girthy length against his soft tummy and lapped at his balls first, to then find your way up his shaft until your lips sealed shut around his angry cockhead, cleaning off all his nutty spent.

Joel groaned above you, shifting his position ever so slightly, and was gentle enough to caress your cheek with his thumb before he gave you a soft smack.

“Careful not to choke, sweetheart. Take it easy,” he growled, words dying off when you pushed him down your mouth, the hoarse curls at the base tingling your nose. “Easy does it.”

With your mouth full, you gave free rein to your instincts. Took him out completely, a bridge of saliva linking your lips to the tip of his cock, and then shoved him down your throat again. You gagged and whimpered at the same time, precum and spit overflowing from the corners of your mouth. How the end of him hit your uvula, breaching past it… it was the most elated you had ever felt.

Your pace quickly picked up, and soon enough you were bobbing your head on his lap to the point that tomorrow you’d have a stiff neck. But it would be completely worth it. Sucking him off, your tongue swirled around his leaky cockhead to then nip at it. Closing your mouth, you slid his tip over your clenched teeth and lips, making a mess of your face.

“Eaaaasy… Fuck, stop,” Joel tugged at your hair.

You had been so lost in the moment, you looked up at him bewildered. You didn’t want to stop, you could never have enough of him. But realisation quickly hit. His balls were twitching against your chin, a sign that Joel was about to lose it.

“I could have my dick in your mouth all day and night, sweetheart, but I need your pussy now,” he husked, half plea, half threat.

Joel relaxed against the couch when you got up to your feet and straddled him, your knees sunk in the pillows to either side of his legs. Reaching behind you, you grabbed at his throbbing cock, gliding it over your entire slit until it hitched in your entrance.

Biting your lip down to stop a slutty moan from coming out, you locked eyes with him. Watching his façade tumble down every time you descended on his lap was one of the most beautiful sights. So slowly you impaled yourself, taking in how Joel’s face loosened up, his hands firm on your hips—how the crows’ feet kissing the corners of his chocolate eyes would smooth out, how his cheeks would flush, how his nose would do a cute little scrunch, or how his lips would part, letting out a heavy sigh.

Joel tried to fuck up into you when you lifted your hips and you tutted at him, pinning him down so he wouldn’t move.

“Nuh-uh. I’m doing all the work tonight, baby. You just lean back and relax, let me fuck you,” you warned him, an edge to your tone advising him to refrain from complaining.

He’d been on patrol out all day—you knew how tired he was, how his old man’s bones would crack with the gentlest of moves.

“But—”

“No, no buts. If you stay still and behave, I’ll let you come inside. Be good for me, please,” you cooed, your mouth moving against his with every suggestive word.

Joel finally grunted in agreement, and the smile on your face couldn’t be wider—even your cheeks hurt. Despite how badly you wanted to say “good boy,” you didn’t press your luck. Joel was quite dominant, but you enjoyed these subtle shifts in your relationship when he was very tired. So tired you could boss him around with no reprimands.

Once he had settled down, you began riding him, his reassuring hands kneading your hips for encouragement. At first it was slow-paced, his cock lazily swallowed by your labia only half-way through. With every pump, you let him slide a little bit deeper, sweet desperation building up behind his adoring eyes.

And after a few minutes, you were bouncing up and down on his throbbing shaft with heavy, quick dives. You laced your hands behind his neck for support, your forehead resting on his, your sweats mixing. Every time he exhaled, you inhaled his needy groans, high with the passion burning between you two.

His cock filled you up to the brim, especially when he was fully seated in your crying cunt. His tip would kiss your cervix, sending firing signals up your spine, numbing your mind. He was so girthy, your inner walls parted like the Red Sea to greet him, to house him. Every time he pulsed inside, your pussy squeezed him hard—as if they were talking to each other. Joel was the perfect fit to you, in every fucking sense.

His cockhead dragged along your anterior wall, putting pressure on the exact spot that always had you gushing. You were so close to nirvana, you could almost touch the sky with your fingertips. Understanding how close you were—probably because your pussy was uncontrollably fluttering around him—Joel took it upon himself to tip you over the cliff of your pleasure. One of his hands flew to your clit, pressing tight circles on your nub as you, quite literally, jumped on him like a demon possessed—and your whole brain short-circuited right there and then.

“Come for you old man, sweetheart. Squirt all over my cock, drench my lap. Wanna feel her sing around me, milk me fucking dry until my balls are completely empty,” Joel husked against your lips, his thumb quicker on your clit now, pushing back the hood to expose your bundle of nerves to his incessant touch even more. “Can you do that for me, hm?”

You did exactly that the moment Joel stopped petting your clit and, instead, he gently tapped at it with four fingers, the squelching sound driving you crazy. The clapping of skin on skin driving you wild. You finally came, screaming at the top of your lungs, while your hips stuttered above him. Incapable of maintaining any pace now, you sat on his lap—his thudding cock buried down to the hilt in your quivering pussy, the best orgasm of your life hitting you at once.

Your entire body was quaking, your pussy flitting arrhythmically as the last squirts left your insides. Joel was throbbing inside you, grown to a point you thought he might explode. And with the last bit of energy, you clamped down on him as strongly as you could, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart,” Joel moaned loudly, head tilting back against the couch.

He pulsed one last time, and then finally filled you up. His cum flooded your pussy with long, thick ropes—so much that it was soon gushing out, mixed with your own arousal. It was warm and comforting, knowing that his seed was safe in your cunt. You squeezed once more to completely drain his balls, and he gifted you with some more drops.

You hummed in approval, so satisfied you almost felt sleepy. Joel smacked your right buttock and then hugged you around the waist, feeling your weight on him like a blanket. Neither of you moved, his cock still snug inside your pussy, your breathings loud and heavy.

“We still have a couple of hours before they serve dinner in the community hall. Can’t go anywhere in this… state,” Joel snickered, kissing your cheek.

“Gonna have to take care of this for you, ain’t I?” you whispered, batting your eyelashes at him before you grinded your hips on his lap. Your clit twitched in response, overstimulated. “I need a minute though, I feel like my whole nervous system is on fire right now.”

“Take as long as you need, sweetheart. I could be here all day right until the last minute,” he muttered, his hands gliding over the sweaty skin on your back.

“You’ll need to at least take a shower before we leave. I made a mess of your hair,” you laughed, nudging the vein on his neck with the tip of your nose.

“No, I like this hair gel better. I ain’t washing my hair.”

Your eyes shot up to him. The mere idea of him leaving the house with your slick dampening his hair, him being in public bathed in your pussy scent… while talking to others, fully claiming him as yours… Right then, you brain chemistry was changed forever.

Your clit throbbed, and you purposefully clutched around his still hard shaft.

“I’m ready again.”

[feel-in-color]

content: ted garcia x afb/f! reader / unprotected sex (p in v) / non-consensual undertones / power dynamic / mention of anal / established relationship / degradation and humiliation / dirty talk / MDNI (+18)

summary: you're sick of fighting with ted, so you try to fuck with him and wear something that'll make his head messy and his cock hard. 💋

wc: 1.4k

notes: this is from an ask i received from the lovely @mustachepascal, requesting that i write a fic for this tweet. don't forget to let it run wild over on pp twitter ya'll. thanks to my bb @sad-bitch-disorder for always being my go-to beta reader. it feels soooo fucking good writing ted again. enjoy x

Ted slumps into his recliner, exhaustion etching across his face. He’s sick of the endless battles. Every night, you two clash, the air between you both, thick with resentment. He imagined that once Eric left for college, you’d rediscover each other, maybe reignite the passion that you both spoke about so fondly. Instead, the distance grows, emptiness taking root.

He lets out a dramatic sigh, broadcasting his frustration as your footsteps thunder upstairs. Tonight’s spat erupted over garlic bread — burnt beyond redemption, his fault, naturally. But his mind is preoccupied, tangled in the demands of his campaign, barely registering the over-toasted slices. The weight of it all presses him deeper into the chair.

You, too, are teetering at the edges, unable to bear the constant friction. Sprawled across the bed, you stare up at the ceiling, the same song and dance every night now. Downstairs, the television roars to life, Ted’s infuriating tactic to burrow under your skin. The news blares at full volume, each word a deliberate jab, a challenge to your patience.

You roll your eyes, pressing a pillow over your face to muffle the noise, but his persistence tonight is relentless. Your frustration grows, and you hurl the pillow across the room, letting out a groan loud enough to pierce the den below. When the television’s volume spikes even higher, you bolt upright, fury propelling you toward the door. You’re ready to slam it shut, to seal yourself off from him — but no. Not tonight. You refuse to let him win this round.

Ted notices the absence of your retaliation, the silence unusual. He’s grown accustomed to your fiery comebacks, not this eerie quiet. He finally decides to dial down the television, sitting there a moment, waiting for your stomping to return. Before he can call out, you appear, descending the stairs in the sheer babydoll lingerie he gifted you for your birthday. The sight steals his breath almost instantly. You glide past, the delicate fabric clinging to your curves, your bare skin teasingly visible underneath, the fabric barely covering the underside of your ass cheeks.

“What are you doing?” he growls, brows knitting together, his grip tightening on the remote. “Why are you wearing that?” His voice climbs, laced with tension.

You ignore him, sauntering into the kitchen, your movements deliberately provocative. You rummage through the cabinets, searching for a snack… or nothing at all. The act is really just secondary to your true intent, which is to make him ache, to torture him.

“Just looking…” you mumble, your tone coy.

“Liar,” he snaps, striding from the living room to the kitchen in a heartbeat. His eyes don’t leave you, like a predator stalking its prey. His knuckles blanch as he grips the counter. “Why are you wearing that?”

You turn to face him, a slow grin curling on your lips. The sheer fabric reveals the hardened peaks of your nipples, your body a tantalizing photograph of curves and shadows. “To fuck with you,” you say, your voice sharp with aggravation.

Ted steps closer, towering over you, his gaze locked on the way the lingerie molds to every dip and curve of your beautiful body. His eyes linger on your nipples, his desire for you now almost palpable.

“Is that so?” His response is low and rough as his thumb grazes one of your hardened peaks.

“It’s working…” he confesses, his breath warm against your skin as he dips in closer.

A soft sound escapes your lips, evidence that he’s making a mess of you between your thighs. But you steel yourself, keeping your back straight, refusing to let him see how his touch fucks with you. 

Just when you think you have it under control, his massive hands grab your breasts, squeezing them, pushing them together so he fans his hot breath through the fabric. “You wanted to fuck with me, yeah? Win our little argument?” he teases, kissing down your breasts, pulling a nipple between his lips as he sucks on it through the fabric.

“How about I just fuck you…” he mumbles, a promise as he sinks his teeth into your skin, a teasing nip that sends shivers racing down your spine. He pulls back, eyes much darker with hunger and spins you around, pressing you forward until your hips meet the edge of the kitchen counter, your heart pounding with anticipation of what's to come next.

“I’ve been wondering when you were gonna wear this,” he groans, while his hands undo the drawstrings of his sweats. “Strutting around, teasing me, getting me so damn hard I can’t think straight — ready to fuck you senseless in it.” His sweatpants hit the floor with a soft thud, then his briefs follow. “Why do we even fight, baby? Why don’t we just… lose ourselves in this… fuck our problems away…?”

His hand slips beneath the delicate hem of your babydoll lingerie, fingers seeking your eager cunt between your thighs. He plunges two fingers into you, mapping the walls of your slick warmth. Each slow, deliberate pump draws a gasp from your lips and his satisfied hum vibrates through you. He pulls his fingers free, licking them clean with a wicked gleam in his eye, before aligning his cock at your entrance.

“Don’t hold back, baby. Scream for me.”

With those words, he thrusts deep, shoving his cock deep in one fluid motion. The shared moan that erupts is electric, a current that binds you together in the bubbling ecstasy. Ted’s hips move with relentless precision, rocking into you as he grips your waist for leverage, anchoring you to him. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through you, your body trying to match his rhythm.

Your eyes flutter, threatening to roll back as he drives into you harder, each stroke a testament to his need and… love, for you. The moans you release — sharp, desperate, echoing with every plunge into your wet mess of a pussy — are raw and unfiltered. You just wanted to provoke him, to stoke his anger with your teasing, but those plans dissolved quickly. You knew it would end this way, that the petty arguments over dishes would be forgotten, replaced by Ted’s fiery love-making.

His hand slides up to encircle your throat, firm but careful, pulling your head back just enough for his lips to graze the sensitive spot beneath your ear. His cock glides in and out with devastating accuracy, his balls slapping against your ass, the rhythmic sound of skin on skin filling the open kitchen. The air feels alive, you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

“Did you really think you… fuck— could wear this and not drive me crazy?” he growls, his voice a mix of frustration and lust, each word punctuated by a hard thrust. “That I wouldn’t take you like this, right here, right now? Goddamn, you drive me wild, you crazy fucking woman. I should fuck you in the ass just for attempting to tease me...” His filthy words cut through you, making you crave him more, making your pussy even wetter.

Ted tugs your head back further, his fingers tightening around your throat, feeling the pulse of your carotid throbbing beneath your straining neck. His gaze is wild, loving the way your heartbeat betrays your obvious surrender.

“I’m gonna cum all over your pretty little outfit, baby,” he hisses, a final wicked punishment for your attempt to win the argument with your teasing lingerie. Backfired, leaving you a trembling, aching mess, and your pussy thoroughly fucked.

With a low groan, Ted pulls out of your drenched cunt, his hand stroking himself swiftly. His grip on your neck remains firm, tilting your head back even further as he lets out a loud moan, his cum spilling hot and messy across your babydoll lingerie, staining the delicate fabric. 

“B-But, I wanna cum too…” you whimper, your voice a desperate plea. But your words are ignored as Ted gazes down at you, his half-lidded eyes glinting with a mix of triumph and adoration. He leans in, pressing a teasing kiss to the tip of your nose, enjoying how miserable you look.

“Oh, you wanna cum, huh?” he laughs, his breath hot against your lips, while he wallows in mock pity. “Sorry, baby girl, you lost this round.” You nod, frantic, your body aching for his cock, his fingers — anything. But he denies you, cleaning the tip of his cock along the hem of your sheer lingerie, smearing the fabric with the last of his release.

“Now be a good girl and change out of this,” he says, commanding, “so Daddy can fuck you right.”

Tags (guess who's back bby): @iamasaddie, @cassiuspascal, @berryispunk, @madpanda75, @lady-artemis27, @elvenhymntoelbereth, @shivispunk, @cosmickid-inmotion, @beezusvreeland, @eviispunk, @glitterspark, @crumbs-from-the-algonquin, @decadent-hag1, @worhols, @picketniffler, @la-vie-est-une-fleur29, @68saturnism, @melmel-fandom, @jadesmultifandom, @anabdaniels, @savedyounine, @manndo, @corpseonvinyl, @emmalyn2233, @cozymochaa, @gothcsz, @katw474, @chasingthepoguelife, @abbotstudy, @perotovar, @half-moon16, @pedroscurls, @blasphemoussinkk, @baronessvonglitter, @penvisions, @ozarkthedog, @kirsteng42, @nightwitchlurker, @shaunasrabbit, @dr-yapper, and @valevntine

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©bratfrag 2025. | I do not give you permission to modify, copy, translate or repost any of my works and creations on other platforms. I do not give you permission to claim them as your own. I do not give you permission to use any of my work and creations for any AI related things.

[gothcsz]

Temporary Fix | Javier Peña x F!Reader | ~4.8k wc | Read on AO3 | Explicit. 

SUMMARY: Javier seduces you one night when you’re both alone at the office. You really thought you’d be strong enough to resist him.

TAGS: No use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, reader is a woman of color yet everyone is encouraged to read, no physical descriptions, reader wears glasses, smut smut smut, porn no plot, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, Javier being a cocky asshole, office sex, light dirty talk, infidelity (reader is engaged), reader cannot stand Javi, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, sorry for any stray typos/grammatical mistakes, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: okay sooo i had a few anons send me some requests/headcanons that i just couldn’t help but indulge in. i wrote this in two days with barely any editing, so enjoy my unhinged writing. reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated, thank you my freaky little sluts 🖤

“That ring is gorgeous!”

“He must have spent a fortune on it!”

You smile bashfully, your left hand extended between you and two of your coworkers, showing off your engagement ring.

After dating your boyfriend for fifteen years: he finally popped the question over the weekend while you two were on a romantic camping trip.

You wish you could say it came out of nowhere, but the two of you have had many conversations (and arguments) about taking your relationship to the next level. It only seemed right since you’d been together since you were teenagers. High school sweethearts and all.

He’s the only person you’ve dated and slept with. You know each other so well. You don’t know why it took him this long to put a ring on it but you’re just happy that it happened… even if it did feel like he was kinda just doing it because he felt like he had to.

Regardless, you’re very excited to have been promoted from girlfriend to fiancée. 

The three of you are gushing over the wedding details when someone interrupts with an obnoxious clearing of their throat.

You look up to see Javier Peña standing near your clusters of desks, arms crossed across his chest. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be working instead of gossiping?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re not our boss, Peña. Get lost.”

He huffs out a laugh, eyes curiously looking down at your left hand to see what you’re fussing over.

“Don’t tell me he finally popped the question.” 

You feel your nerves thinning, the usual reaction you have to being in his presence. 

You’ve been working alongside Javier for the better part of three years now and it only took you one day to figure him out. He’s the office slut, plainly put. Flirting with most if not all of the women in the office, sleeping with them too.

At first you didn’t care. His personal life and antics are none of your business. But then he started targeting you and that’s when your harsh judgements gave way.

Multiple times you told him you weren’t available nor interested—but he never took you seriously. As if it was all just a game and you were playing hard to get. It wasn’t until a company wide mandated sexual harassment seminar was held that he finally backed off.

That didn’t stop him from being a snarky asshole to you, though.

Snarky asshole you could tolerate (kind of)—it was the flirting and seducing that drove you up the fucking wall.

Why? Because he’s attractive. You’re not blind. You see the appeal; broad shoulders, slim waist, pretty eyes and handsome features. It’s no wonder that most women fall at his feet with just one look.

But you’re taken, happily at that, and you’ve got a nice ring on your finger to prove it.

“Not that it’s any of your business but yes, he did.” You say with your chin held high, both of your coworkers making knowing faces at each other before turning back to their respective desks to busy themselves and pretend not to be listening to your typical bickering with Javier.

“And that’s the ring he went with?” He snorts, stepping closer to get a better look, taking your hand in his larger one. 

You snatch it away from him, ignoring the way your skin buzzes at the contact.

“Can I help you with something or are you just here to be a pain in my ass?”

He’s got that arrogant smirk on his face that makes you wanna slap the shit out of him.

“Boss just told me that he wants us to stay back tonight to look over some files before the big meeting in the morning.”

You narrow your gaze. “You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie about doing more work? I have more important things to do than to stay in this stuffy office all night.”

You let out a heavy sigh. You were supposed to have dinner tonight with your family to tell them the news, but it looks like that’s getting postponed.

“Whatever.” You murmur, spinning in your chair and reaching for the landline on your desk, dialing the familiar phone number.

Javier doesn’t leave right away, he just stands there looking at you for a moment longer before rasping his knuckles against your cubicle. 

“See you later tonight.” His voice drops, far too close than you remember him being, as your fiancé answers the phone.

There’s files on files on files surprising you two later that night, scattered around in the conference room where you’ve set up. A half-eaten pizza sits on the table as you organize things to the best of your ability.

Javier is sitting across from you, smacking down on a piece of gum as he lazily reads over one of the field reports for the case you’re meeting about in the morning.

Your head begins to throb with a headache and you sigh loudly, pushing your glasses up to rest on top of your head, setting the file down.

His eyes flit up. “You okay?”

“I have a headache and I’m exhausted.”

He hums, setting his own file aside, leaning back in the chair and raising his arms to intertwine his fingers behind his head. “I know somethin’ that can make that headache go away.”

You laugh weakly despite him not being humorous at all. “You’re a pig, you know that?”

Javi shrugs, chewing down on his gum harder. You notice how strong his jaw is, full pouty lips framed by a mustache that should be out of style but for some reason fits him perfectly.

At that moment, as you appraise this jerk in front of you, you start thinking about all the gossip you’ve heard from his conquests in the office. How Javier Peña made them come so hard it had them tasting colors. What the hell does that even mean?

Sex with your boyfriend has never been anything to gush over, really. It mostly consists of you laying on your back, watching as he thrusts into you frantically before he finishes and rolls over to fall into a deep sleep. Most times, you’ve had to finish yourself off—but you never really minded. Sex isn’t even that important in a relationship… right? At least that’s what you tell yourself. 

Your heart begins to race as your traitorous mind begins to conjure visions of Javier bending you over the long conference table, gripping your hips as he plows into you from behind, whispering filthy things. You can almost feel the rasp of his mustache against your neck, his lips pressed to the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

From what you heard, he’s got every reason to be cocky, considering he’s carrying a very generous package.

Heat flushes up your neck and pools at your cheeks, thighs tensing involuntarily.

You blink away the fantasy as quickly as it crosses your mind, shaking your head. What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re newly engaged to a man who loves you (?) and here you are daydreaming about getting fucked by a man you cannot stand. 

“Something on your mind, sweetheart?” It’s like he’s in your head, that typical Javier smirk tugging at his lips. Observant motherfucker.

“Yeah. I’m going home.”

You stand abruptly, making the skirt you’re wearing ride up higher on your thighs, revealing the band of your stockings.

His gaze immediately drops there and his eyes darken. He watches as you scramble around gathering your things before getting up himself. In two strides he’s standing in front of the door, blocking your exit.

“Move.”

He tuts. “Not until you tell me what’s got you hightailing outta here.”

“Javier I’m not fucking playing, move—” you shove at his chest, your sexual frustration and general disdain for him pissing you off by the second.

Sensing this, his hands come up to grip your wrists, halting your motions. You tug at them to no avail, he’s got a strong hold and that is not helping your situation one bit.

“Let me guess: you’re wondering if the talk is true.”

You let out a sound of disbelief. “Oh you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Not as much as I’d love to show you a good time. Let’s be honest—that boy of yours isn’t doing the job.” 

You stare up at him with a clenched jaw, your eyes telling him everything he needs to know, which is that he’s right and you’re too stubborn to admit it.

“Listen, I’m not asking you to leave him. That’d be absurd.” He twists your left wrist so that the engagement ring gleams beneath the fluorescent lighting of the room, accusatory as hell. “Just asking for one night. No strings attached. You deserve a good fuck before you tie yourself down to some clown for the rest of your life. Don’t you want that? To feel good?” He cocks his head, popping his gum cockily as he watches your resolve slowly weaken beneath his words, his stare, his fucking aura. 

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” His voice drops to a gravelly tone that’s almost like a siren’s call, thumbs brushing over your pulse point, feeling how flustered he’s got you.

You don’t realize how heavily you’re breathing, being pulled under his spell as you actually consider his proposal. This must be what all your coworkers talk about. How polarizing he is.

If you thought about this for a second longer, you’d consider yourself to be a strong, willful woman that doesn’t buckle under the tiniest bit of sexual tension.

But you’re not as strong as you think you are, not around him. This is why you never entertained anything he ever said to you, because deep down inside—you always knew that you’d fucking fold.

And that’s exactly what you do now.

Your lips crash onto his without warning, and you hate how soft his mouth is as he begins to devour you entirely. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, nipping at it as he walks the both of you back until your ass hits the edge of the table.

Letting go of your wrists, you waste no time in cupping his strong jaw and he wastes no time in grabbing your waist and hoisting you up onto the wooden surface.

Your thighs part to make room for his broad figure, his lips moving from yours and down to your jaw, then your neck. It’s then that you taste something minty in your mouth and realize you’re now chewing on his gum.

Why do you find that so hot?

Javier bites down gently and you let out a whimper, hands falling to his biceps where you dig your nails in. “No marks.” You warn him.

It’s bad enough that you’re cheating—you don’t need evidence of it, too.

He soothes the spot over with his tongue, which has your skin curling with goosebumps as his dexterous fingers begin to unbutton your top, revealing the plain bra you’re wearing underneath.

Javi lets out a deep groan at the sight of it and you can’t help but keen. 

“So fucking hot,” he mutters, cupping your covered breasts in both hands before he reaches behind you and quickly undoes the clasp, getting you out of your shirt and bra in the blink of an eye.

It’s all happening too fast, so you push at his shoulders so that he pulls back, your arms coming up to cross over your naked chest.

“Wait, Javi…” you trail off, words slurred from how dizzy you feel about the whole thing. “I’ve never—this is a lot.”

He stands between your legs, his brown eyes lustful yet warm as he takes in your shy and almost apprehensive composure.

Javier Peña would never take advantage of anyone—so seeing you like this is making him rethink everything.

“Do you want to stop? Because we can. You call the shots, baby.”

He cups your face with one large hand, thumb brushing over your cheek as he makes you look up at him.

“Do you want this?”

You search his gaze, realizing in this moment that there’s more to him than just some guy who can’t keep it in his pants.

“...Yes.” It’s almost breathless the way you reply, slowly uncrossing your arms, letting him get a good look at your tits.

But he doesn’t look, he just keeps his eyes locked on yours, making sure that you mean what you say before he leans in and kisses you softly, lips moving at a pace that has arousal slicking up your pussy.

The moan you let out encourages him to keep going. Large, calloused hands come up to palm your breasts, thumbs flicking across your pert nipples as you continue to make-out. 

God it feels so good. Foreplay isn’t your fiancé’s strongest suit. He’ll paw at your tits, maybe suck one into his mouth before he clumsily rubs your clit then goes straight in for penetration.

But Javier isn’t your fiancé—goodness no, he’s lightyears better and he hasn’t really touched you yet.

Parting from you, he places sweet pecks down your jaw and neck before wrapping his pouty lips around your nipple, sucking softly.

You sigh out blissfully, head rolling on your shoulders, eyes fluttering close.

Smirking against your chest, one hand leaves your tit and moves south, trailing over your stomach before toying with the hem of your skirt then disappearing below it.

Your fingers run through his soft hair, tenderly scratching his scalp as he lavishes your breasts with much needed attention, his thick fingers pressing over your covered pussy. 

Flicking his tongue against your nipple, he moves over to the other, grunting as you play with his hair, the pressure at your core increasing when he presses his fingers further onto you.

He bites down on your nipple and it makes you yelp, which he finds to be the cutest thing ever. With one final, wet kiss, he pulls away from your breasts to look at you.

“Feeling good?”

You don’t have the words so you just nod, bucking your hips up slightly to signal that you want him to keep touching.

“Words, baby. Use ‘em.”

“Yes,” your voice is small, a small pout on your lips. “I-I need more, Javi. Please.”

He tilts his head slightly, fingers pulling your panties to the side so that he can touch your wet flesh. “So sweet using your manners.”

Your jaw drops as he spreads your pussy lips in an obscene display of sex, touching and rubbing all over your cunt but purposely ignoring your clit which drives you crazy. Still, it feels amazing the way his fingers part you, your syrupy essence coating his digits.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet. Ever.

When he removes his fingers you whine at the loss. Javier brings them up between you, showing off how your slick webs between them. “This all for me?” he mocks, sliding them into his mouth, a deep hum rumbling in his chest from how sweet you taste. 

That’s enough to get him to drop to his knees, which is a beautiful sight in itself, tugging your panties down your thighs and off your legs swiftly, tucking them into the pocket of his pants.

You’re left just in your skirt, heels and stockings, spread out open for him on the conference table, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.

Javi looks up at you, desire evident in his stare, leaning in to place a kiss directly on your clit.

“Oh fuck—” you curse, arms weak as you fall flat on your back, glasses toppling off your head. As much as you’d love to watch him eat you out, you don’t think you have the upper body strength for the way he’s about to ruin you.

And ruin you he fucking does.

Javier begins to lick and suck all over your pretty cunt, languidly letting his broad tongue lap at your slit, the tip of it flitting across your fleshy pearl. He starts off slow, making out with your pussy, slick coating the lower half of his face.

The way the coarseness of his mustache scratches at your sensitive core is fucking magic. Your back arches off the table as sobs and moans spill from your lips, fingers finding themselves back into his hair, holding on for dear life as he picks up the intensity of the lewd act.

“Taste so fucking good. Can’t believe that asshole you have at home isn’t fucking worshipping this pussy,” he kisses your inner thighs, teeth nipping at the black stockings that cling to you.

You don’t even know what to say, hips moving up to chase after his mouth. Javier returns and begins to suck at your clit, his tongue breaching your needy hole.

“Javi… oh my god,” your eyes roll to the back of your head as you begin to feel your orgasm quickly building at the base of your spine. 

Sensing this, he brings one hand up to aid him, spitting on his stocky fingers before he sinks two of them inside you.

That damn near does you over.

“Ah!” you exclaim in pure pleasure, chanting his name over and over as he begins to finger you while his tongue continues to pleasure your clit.

“Just like that baby, fuck you sound so good. I can’t wait to feel this pussy wrap around my cock.”

The squelch of his digits working you fills the room, mixed with his occasional grunt and your very desperate and pitchy cries. 

You tug at his hair roughly as your orgasm begins to overtake you entirely. “I’m gonna—ohmygod ohmygod—”

With a final harsh suck and a deliberate twist of his wrist, you finish with an embarrassingly loud sob, your walls tensing around his fingers.

Tears leak from your eyes, air escaping from your lungs as you allow yourself to feel every sensation that overwhelms your body.

Javier works you through it, slowing the pace of his fingers and intensity of his mouth. When he pulls his fingers out, the creamy evidence of your orgasm lathers them. Once again, he sucks them clean, the tangy sharpness making his already hard cock throb even more.

He has to get inside of you. He needs to feel the pussy he’s been fantasizing about for years. 

Kissing his way up your body, your lips meet again. You taste yourself on him and that makes you even more woozy. 

He undoes his belt and unzips his pants quickly, almost frantically, lips not leaving yours. It’s not until you feel the tip of his cock grazing over your pussy that you pull away.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Javi shushes you. “Don’t think about it. Not right now.”

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. He spits into his palm, stroking his cock a few times.

You can’t help but marvel at him. Not only is he big, but he’s thick too. Your cunt tingles at the prospect of him being inside of you and the anticipation of being filled pleasurably for once.

The shape of his shaft kind of reminds you of the toy you use at home to get yourself off. This is not going to fare for you well later on, you realize.

Licking your lips, you sit up slightly, shaky fingers working the buttons of his dress shirt. You fumble a few times, which earns you a chuckle from him as he watches you, absolutely enthralled.

“Need some help?”

“Shut up.”

You finally manage to unbutton the damn thing entirely, revealing his broad chest. The exposed skin tantalizes you, beckoning your lips to him. So you sit up fully to kiss and nip all over his neck, tasting him. You feel the way his throat vibrates with an indulgent groan.

“Are you ready?”

You nod softly, hands resting on his broad shoulders as he pulls you to the very edge of the table, the underside of his length grinding against your cunt.

“Just… go slow at first.” You all but murmur, not wanting to explicitly tell him that you’re not used to a size like his.

Not that you have to, since he arrogantly smiles.

Without breaking eye contact, Javier slowly sinks into you. Your jaw drops, brows pinching together in pure euphoria. 

The stretch is amazing, your pussy opening up to him beautifully. His large hands return to your hips, squeezing gently as he buries himself to the root, taking in every expression you give him.

His jaw ticks, your walls snugly wrapped around his throbbing cock. You’re so warm and wet and fucking soft. Probably the best pussy he’s ever been in.

“I—” you’re at a loss for words, fingernails digging into his shoulders. His thrusts start off shallow, allowing you to get used to the feeling of his big dick inside of you. 

You could honestly come just like this, but if you’re really going to commit to fucking Javier—you want to do it right.

“Harder,” you moan. “Faster.”

Javier almost, almost, asks if you’re sure. But with the way you’re looking up at him—lust clouding your pretty eyes—he knows that you’re ready to take it.

One hand leaves your hip, snaking up to wrap his palm lightly around your throat, firmly pushing you down until you’re flat on your back again. Your breath hitches but you follow the motion smoothly, a hand of your own wrapping around his wrist, keeping his hold there.

With a better angle now, Javier begins to fuck you earnestly now, pulling out until only the head of his cock is notched at the weeping hole of your cunt before he slams his entire length back inside of you, your mixed arousal making it easy from him to slide in and out.

“F-Fuuuck, you feel so good—” you shudder, eyes squeezing shut as you let him use your body however he wants.

The table creaks beneath you, a tangible sound that really amplifies how real this entire situation is. Javier doesn’t know where to look—stuck between looking at your face or down to where your sexes connect. All the times he imagined what it’d be like to sleep with you, none of them compare to the real fucking thing.

Both of you groan and pant as he moves his hips expertly, the tip of him pleasurably kissing your cervix with each impassioned thrust.

“How you feelin’, baby?”

Your tongue feels tied, all you can do is squeeze at the wrist of the hand that remains against your neck.

His fingers dig into your waist. “C’mon, talk to me.”

“Good, Javi. So good.” The words finally leave you, thighs falling open wider. He leans over your body, craning his neck so that your lips can meet, your body bouncing with each harsh thrust of his cock.

“I was imagining you bending me over,” you finally admit once he’s close enough, licking along his jaw, up to his ear where your teeth nip at the lobe. “Earlier… when you asked.”

“That right?” His curved nose grazes your cheek, mustache tickling your skin as he buries himself fully inside you, grinding his pubic hair against your swollen clit.

You nod, tensing your walls around him, your nipples brushing against his sweat-slick chest.

“Want me to bend you over? Fill this pussy up then send her home to her man, leaking full of my cum?”

It shouldn’t make you horny the way he talks to you—but fuck does he have a mouth on him. Any guilt you have about cheating is eclipsed by the way that he’s fucking you.

Javier pulls out again, ready to give you what you’d been fantasizing about. He flips you over on the table, cupping the back of your right knee, raising one leg so that it rests on the table while the other holds you up.

Your palms land on the polished surface and you look over your shoulder to find Javier just looking at you.

The way the heels and stockings accentuate your legs and thighs damn near makes him drool. You’re a sight, truly, with your little skirt bunched up at the waist, pussy leaking and ready for him to take again.

He delivers a spank to your ass, watching the way the flesh ripples before repeating the action on the other cheek. You moan sweetly, arching your back even more, beginning to get impatient.

Before you can vocalize this, Javier is right behind you again, stuffing his cock back inside your cunt. The change of position makes him feel even deeper, and you whimper loudly as he starts to fuck you even harder.

“Holy shit.”

His heavy balls slap against your clit, the filthy sounds of your fucking are definitely going to haunt you for the rest of your life. 

Your second orgasm of the night ghosts over your body, arms shaking until you fall onto your chest.

Javier’s teeth clench, gripping onto your hips rightly as he plows into you with such vehemence, he’s not sure how the fuck he’s going to be able to pull out of you.

“Javi Javi Javi,” you wail deliriously, absolutely cockdrunk, hands curling into fists, biting down on your lower lip until you can taste blood, tears leaking from your eyes. 

“There you go baby, just like that. Give it to me. I can fucking feel it.”

Your forehead meets the table, nothing but him and his cock and everything he makes you feel rattling around in your head like a loose marble in an empty dome. 

“I’m—” you can’t even finish the sentence, your orgasm toppling over you like a pile of falling bricks. The most pitiful, pathetic, desperate, loud, depraved cry rips out of your throat as your body locks up, pussy spasming around his dick as you finish embarrassingly hard. 

Javier drinks in every tremor and sound, satisfied as fuck as he keeps his pace going throughout the entirety of your orgasm. You fall limp before him, but that doesn’t stop him. 

His hold on your waist leaves and he easily lifts your satiated body until your back is to his chest, strong arms locking around your figure tightly as he fucks up into you, chasing his own release, your tits boucning wildly with every move.

“Goddamn you even come so pretty.” He kisses up the side of your neck, running his nose along the length of it, inhaling sharply, the smell of your perfume and sweat disorienting him in the best way.

After a handful of thrusts, Javier’s hips stutter and he groans loudly, buried to the hilt as your used pussy milks his cock. Spurt after spurt of his warm, milky spend fills you and it makes the both of you shiver violently. 

The comedown is oddly tender. His lips pepper soft kisses along your neck and jaw, whispering sweet nothings until your breathing returns to normal.

You’re not filled with regret or guilt in the way that you thought you would. You slowly blink your eyes open, vision still blurred.

His body clings to yours, soft cock still inside of you. Eventually he unwraps himself from you and pulls out, a glob of his spend dropping from your pussy and onto the table.

You both redress in silence. What do you even say after a fuck like that?

Snatching your glasses up from the table and slipping them on, you grab a few napkins from the dinner you shared, cleaning up the mess you made on the table and balling it up, tossing it into the bin.

You bend down to grab your work bag, and that’s when he breaks the silence.

“I know I said this was a one-time thing,” he licks across his teeth, buckling his belt, “but if you ever want to do this again—you know where to find me.”

You don’t say anything at first, fiddling with the strap of your bag, the ring on your finger suddenly feeling heavier.

“I think it’s best if this doesn’t happen again.”

Javi’s eyes narrow, giving you a once over before nodding curtly. “Yes ma’am.”

You two stare at each other, unspoken conversation passing between you like a fleeting breeze. 

“You should get going. I’ll finish up here.”

God—are things going to be awkward now? It was already hard to avoid him before when he was being a total shithead. You can only imagine how things are going to be now that you’ve hooked up.

Though you don’t think about that, not now. You have to get your shit together before you step into the house that you share with your soon to be husband.

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You turn on your heel before the awkward tension chokes you out. Just as you’re about to step out—his voice breaks through the silence.

“Congratulations on the engagement, by the way.”

[ ⤷ part two ]

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[brookeswords1]

Third Date

Pairings: jackson!game!joel miller x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, smut, real smut, oral (f receiving), pinv, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, multiple positions, eating pussy addicted Joel, after care, creampie.

Summary: From the creators of the first and second date saga. Joel wants to see if YOU look good in his sheets this time. After a date at Tipsy, you both find the answer together.

Word count: 4,4K

Based on this, this and this requests.

Dates saga The First Date Second Date

Joel walks to his house and he is beaming, he can’t stop thinking about how great last night was and how he wants you all to himself again and again. Only the thought of you naked makes his cock twitch, he climbs the small set of stairs to the front porch and opens the door. Ellie is at the table eating her breakfast. She narrows her eyes and stands up, dropping her toast on her plate.

She comes closer, sniffing him, only to smile, feeling the faint scent of your perfume, Ellie doesn’t say anything, she just smirks and walks back to her meal. Joel ignores her petulance and goes to his room to get ready for work.

As soon as he opens the door to his room he sees his well-made bed and can only think how good you’ll look laying there, naked. He bites his lips, maybe tonight he can find out.

Tommy is already at the gates waiting for his brother, he is never late, but this time he is extrapolating. And just as he’s about to leave, Joel appears, walking like the sun only belonged to him, a huge grin on his face. Suspicious. He gets closer and gets up on his horse, looking at his brother like nothing happened.

“What is up?” Tommy asks, noticing his brother’s face is of someone who hasn’t slept last night

“What is up, what?” Joel swallows

“You’re weird” he narrows his eyes “I smell something on you”

“Why are you guys acting all Sherlock Holmes on me today?” Joel starts to ride

“Because, Joel Miller, you’re never in a good mood, smiling like this” Tommy shakes his head, chuckling

It is 6 o’clock when you get home to get ready for your date with Joel. Your mind is focused on your night with Joel, how good he makes you feel. How loved and cared for. How he loves to make you come over and over again. All you want is for him to come pick you up at your house, a green one.

You choose your best dress, a green one you found in one of your patrols, just sandals. Looking in the mirror and taking a deep breath. It’s your third date and you’re still so nervous, why? You know why, Joel is simply perfect, and you want him in your life, so there is this desire to please him so he stays.

Joel is in his room, trying to choose the best outfit to impress you, he is trying his best and all he wants is for you to like him the way he likes you. He wants you to be his girlfriend more than anything. Once he is ready, after a great shower, he checks himself in the mirror. Wondering if you’d think he is not trying enough if he wore another button-down shirt. But that’s what he will wear, a button-down military green shirt and denim pants.

At 7 you hear the soft knocks, your hands are shaking so much you can’t even hold the handle, and your heart is pounding. When you open the door Joel is smiling already, that beautiful smile framed with his dimples. He looks at you from top to bottom.

“I’m going to be jealous of the men looking at you” he says, taking your hand and kissing every knuckle

“They should be jealous of you” you smirk “After all, you’re the one I make love to”

Joel shivers hearing your words, realizing that’s true. He is the lucky one, the luckiest man in Jackson. With a smile he pulls you to his arms, kissing your cheek, very close to your lips, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re right, I’m goddamn lucky for that” he whispers to your ear “Can we go?”

“Absolutely”

The Tipsy is not as busy as always, but there are enough people for you to be nervous. Being seen with Joel is still something new, not for any type of shame, but because you have no idea what people will think about it. Joel’s hand stays on your lower back, making sure the ones who are there know that you are with him, the warmth making you feel comfortable.

Joel pulls the chair for you, and you smile. Today’s menu is the same as the other dinners, steak with mashed potatoes and vegetables. Not what you two would probably eat if it wasn’t the apocalypse. He orders a whiskey for him and you do the same.

“You look especially beautiful tonight, have I told you this today?” he smiles

“A couple of times on our way here” you shake your head side to side

“But first it ‘you look especially beautiful tonight under the moonlight’, then ‘you look especially beautiful in this dress’” you giggle, with a foolish smile on your face

“Well, because I have to make it clear” he nods

Seth brings the drinks and sets them in front of you, minutes later, he brings the food. Joel starts eating, and you hide a laugh. He must be so hungry, he patrols and is a big man, so it’s obvious that at 7:30 pm he will eat a big plate of steak and mashed potatoes in seconds.

“Hungry, big boy?” you giggle

“Oh, I’m sorry” he smiles with his mouth full

“I think you don’t need to apologize, we’ve seen a lot of each other” you wink, taking a sip from your drink

“So” he wipes his mouth with a napkin “How was your work day, babe?”

“Nice” you shrug, cutting a piece of your steak “Maria asked me to organize the new supplies”

“Oh, yea? She bosses you around like that?” Joel pretends to be shocked “I thought you didn’t like to be bossed around”

“Shut up, Miller” you laugh, shaking your head “You’re an idiot. Tommy bosses you around too?”

“Yeah” he nods “But I never denied that I like being bossed around”

“You got a point” you kick his leg from under the table “She is very bossy though, sometimes kind of rude” you roll your eyes

“Sometimes?” Joel raises his eyebrows “Kind of rude? You mean all the time, she hates me”

“She doesn’t hate you Joel, she’s just not a huge fan”

“You’re being nice”

“I ain’t” you nod “For real, she is actually trying to make us be together” “Is she?” he raises one eyebrow

“Yeah, she’s been like ‘oh, you know my brother-in-law’” you mimic Maria’s voice “‘He is so lonely and needy’”

“Lonely and needy?” he opens his jaw dramatically

“And she says ‘I bet he has a nice cock, by the way’” this one you whisper, but still mimicking

“A lot of lines being crossed right now” he chuckles

“Yeah, like, I almost told her ‘He has a huge cock’” a crooked smile tugs on your lips “But I wanted to tell her that he is way more than that”

“He is?” his hand finds your knee under the table

“Besides being the most handsome man in Jackson, and having a huge cock, her brother-in-law is the sweetest, most romantic, attentive, and lovely man I’ve ever met”

Joel blushes and smiles, looking down at his plate.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he asks, raising his gaze to you

“I kind of do” you giggle

The music stops, and you see Trevor choosing a song on the jukebox, Girl From the North Country by Bob Dylan, but the version with Johnny Cash. Joel doesn’t hesitate, his gaze searches for yours, and when he stands up, he takes your hand. Everyone turns to you both.

“Will you dance with me?” he winks, that seductive wink

“Of course, handsome!” you take his hand, and he leads you to the center of the Tipsy

Joel pulls you to him, your bodies pressed so close you can feel his heartbeat. One arm slides around your waist, his hand gripping the curve of it, while the other holds your hand halfway up, his fingers firm. He starts to sway slowly, in rhythm with the music.

Remember me to one who lives there, for she once was a true love of mine.

As if drawn by something magnetic, your faces move closer - so close your noses brush. Joel’s breath lingers on your lips, you can smell the whiskey he’s been drinking. His eyes lock onto yours, burning. You have to fight the urge to kiss him.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, his lips almost brushing yours. Your heart is beating so fast you’re sure he can hear it. He just wants to make sure you allow it, there are too many people around.

“Of course” you smile softly

Joel’s hand leaves yours and finds your neck, his thumb brushing your soft skin, he tilts his head and slowly presses your lips together. It is not deep, not a show, just a touch of intimacy. Just a statement of Joel to the others, he is in love, and by now he doesn’t want to hide anymore.

“What do you think about going to my place? Ellie is sleeping at Dina’s and-” his lips trail from your lips to your ear “And I want to see how you look in my sheets now.”

“I think-” you giggle “It is the most wonderful idea”

Joel grabs your hand and leaves the Tipsy, waving at Seth, who is smiling at the scene. You both walk to Joel’s house side by side, you hold his arm as his hand rests on your lower back. On the way, Tommy and Maria see you from their window, of course it is you, the only possible woman for Joel Miller. The one he wouldn’t miss.

Once you both step inside his house, Joel pulls you into him again, now the kiss is deeper, starts slow, his tongue sliding in and exploring your mouth the way you love, with care and gentleness. His fingers thread in your hair.

“So-” he mutters against your lips “Let’s go see if you match my sheets too?” the smirk on his face is filled with intention.

“I bet I do…” you bite your lower lip

Joel sweeps you off your feet and peppers you with kisses as he carries you to his room. You’ve never been to his room before, and it looks exactly like you imagined, rustic just like him, simple. The bed sheets are plain and simple, Joel gently lays you there, stepping back and smirking.

“You look good in my sheets”

You laugh, and he steps next to the bed again, leaning to kiss you. Joel’s big and rough hands slide up your thighs, slowly, rasping against your skin. Your dress comes along, teasingly, as he peels it from you, leaving you with a black lace bra and panties.

His lips trace a line from your belly button up to your chest, stopping at your collarbones, only to unclasp your bra. His hands go down and slide your panties down, slowly, stepping back again.

“You look amazing in my sheets, baby” Joel smirks

With his eyes on yours, Joel kneels at the side of the bed, he positions one calf on each shoulder only for his hands to grip your hips firmly to pull you closer to his face. Before anything, he kisses your thighs and inner thighs with devotion and tenderness, his rough beard scraping the skin, making your pussy pulse.

Joel squeezes your hip, digging his fingers before his tongue touches your pussy, warm and slick, parting your folds, licking up and down slowly. He wants to savor every inch, tasting every drop of what he causes in you, all your arousal. His gaze is still on yours, the wrinkles in his eyes exposing his smile.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so good” he growls, muffled by your wet skin “You taste so godman sweet”

He seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard into his mouth, letting it go only to suck it again, making your toes curl. Joel wants to take his time, teasing your entrance, circling his flat tongue around, going up and doing the same to your clit. He thrusts his tongue inside your pussy, going deeper and exploring it slowly, fucking you with his mouth.

Your fingers hold his curls, tugging them gently as you start to feel the pressure building, rising from your clit to your stomach. He spreads your thighs wider with his shoulders, burying his face deeper, his nose brushing your clit while his tongue continues to explore your inside.

After a few more laps, your first orgasm crashes over you suddenly, your pussy clenching around his tongue as you feel the waves pulsing through you. His name comes out of your mouth in a loud cry, making him suck you lightly only to prolong your feeling. Joel is not planning to stop anytime soon. He drinks every single drop of your cum.

“I love to hear you come” he chuckles, watching as your cum drips from your folds “I want it all”

“Joel, oh god-” you gasp as his lips suck your clit again, making your body arch from oversensitivity

Joel comes back, his tongue licking faster now against your clit, alternating from using just the tip and the whole tongue, making your hips move involuntarily. The pleasure is overwhelming, Joel is perfect, he likes to make you come. He gets hard from seeing you lose your senses. He eats you out like his life depended on your cum.

One of his thick fingers slides inside your slick pussy, the movement easy from how wet you are. The double work builds your pleasure faster now, not only that, but his gaze burns into yours. You moan his name over and over, begging him to continue. You’ve never been eaten out so well. He slides one more finger, and it stretches you even more.

The second climax crashes, he groans and this sound makes the waves stronger, he wraps his mouth on your whole pussy and sucks it, hard, his teeth grazing your clit just enough to make you scream out. Joel draws his fingers and sucks them, rolling his eyes and humming, only to pump them inside again. Your body is trembling, he holds you steady, working you until you're panting.

Joel eases his fingers out slowly, and his tongue takes their place, licking your entrance to clean all the cum before entering you once more, slower now, but broad strokes that cover your entire pussy, from ass to clit. Taking his time and giving each small place the attention it deserves. His free hand strokes your thighs.

“Just one more for me, my love” Joel mutters, making you feel the vibration

He nibbles gently on your lips before sucking your clit softly a few times. It feels like torture, your clit is throbbing for him, every nerve urging. He slides his two fingers back in, going harder inside but softer and slower outside. His thumb rubs firm pressure on your clit and his teeth find your ass cheek. Everything is so overwhelming that the third orgasm comes and you scream louder now.

This time you squirt on him, his smirk is there, seeing the mess he’s making of you. He loves to see your face twisting in ecstasy. Your whole body gives up now, your pussy clenches around his fingers. Joel groans and licks all your cum, satisfied. He even flickers his tongue over your clit to see you shudder.

Joel finally rises, you’re panting, boneless. He stands up, admiring your wasted naked body, his lips are red and swollen, with a satisfied crooked smile that you want to kiss off his face. He nods before crawling up your body, hovering over you.

“Now, you look perfect in my sheets” his voice is rough “Right here, spent, red and flushed, the best view I’ve ever had in my life, and see, I’m 55.”

“Joel Miller, stop and fuck me” you smirk

Your hands fist his t-shirt and pull him down for a messy kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. Your hands roam up his abdomen, getting to his chest under his shirt, how warm and hard it feels. Joel doesn’t want to wait, he is eager for you right now. Standing up, he sheds his clothes quickly, and when he shoves his jeans down, his thick hard cock is right there, ready for you.

Joel watches as you admire his cock while biting your lower lip, he knows you love it and he’ll give it to you. He helps you up on the pillows - he can only think how good they’ll smell later - and props himself on one of his elbows, the other hand leads his cock to rub against all your soaked pussy, drawing a moan from both of you, before pushing in slowly, inch by inch.

“Oh, Joel” you gasp as he stretches you

“God, you feel so good” he smiles down at you, kissing your forehead

You both are really close to each other, his weight becomes a comforting anchor as his hips start to roll. The thrusts are deep and unhurried, each time he goes inside he fills you up completely, grinding against your clit, your gazes remain connected. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to go deeper.

“Deeper, baby” you scream out

“All for you” he smirks, watching your face contort in pleasure as he hits your cervix now

Joel’s hand gets in between your bodies, fingers finding your clit to rub firm circles, searching for another orgasm from you. His teeth graze your jaw. With a loud moan, you shatter once again, your nails digging into his back. His cock fucks you steadily as his fingers now only massage your clit, feeling you clench.

“God, you’re so perfect, Joel” you whisper

“I love to watch you come for me, my love” his lips find your forehead with tenderness

Slowly and gently, you push Joel out of you, winking and propping yourself onto all fours. His hands hold your hips firmly, and he pulls you, sliding back in with a guttural moan. This new angle hits new spots, you feel his cock dragging inside of you as he sets this unhurried pace.

“Fuck, baby” he rasps “I’ve been thinking about this ass all day”

Joel leans down to kiss your shoulder, one hand steadying him as the other goes down your body to find your clit again. He starts to tease it again, rubbing it slowly and gently, thinking about how sensitive it is right now with all the overstimulation, his lips still on your skin.

“You come so pretty for me, baby, gimme another one, would you?”

His cock slamming inside of you, his hand on your pussy, and his breath on your neck make the heat rise up, and you push back against him, meeting his thrusts. He plays with your clit relentlessly, his finger pressing just right, like your body doesn’t need an instruction manual.

You cry out, clenching around him, he holds you up as your arms give in. He groans, holding himself so he doesn’t finish, he needs more. Joel pulls your back to him, kissing your sweaty neck and shoulders, giving you both time to breathe.

“God, woman, can you please stay here forever? I don’t want this to end” he whispers into your ear “You are too hot”

Then Joel lays you gently on your side and spoons you close, hitching your leg over his. He enters you again from behind, the burn from all the friction becoming pleasure, now it is more intimate, not rough. Joel’s breath is hot on your neck, he thrusts slowly, planting kisses wherever he can.

“I love holding you like this” he whispers, his free hand roaming down to your clit once more “I love to watch you come undone for me”

He grinds you lazily, building another orgasm, until you're trembling. And it rips through you with a soft sob. He continues there, rolling his hips slowly, enjoying the feel of your pussy clenching on him, kissing you and praising you in every possible way. Letting you know how much he is in love, how gorgeous you are, how he loves to kiss you, to hug you, and to fuck you.

The only thing Joel can’t say right now, because he is scared it’s too soon, is asking you to be his girlfriend. He wants you all to himself, every day. He would marry you if he could.

“Can I try another one?” he asks quietly

“Oh, god, Joel Miller, how will I walk tomorrow?” you giggle

“You can ask Maria to work in the office tomorrow.” he chuckles, kissing you and laying you on your back.

Joel stands up, holds your legs up, and pulls you to him, hooking them on his shoulders. He gets inside again, looking as your eyes roll back. His face filled with pleasure, he kisses your calves as he thrusts, slowly. Joel leans, bending you, he kisses your lips.

“Look at me, babe” he demands, softly

His fingers find your clit once more, but he does it lightly and teasingly now. He continues to kiss you and stimulate you, and now he is searching for his own orgasm, he buries himself deep with a low groan, his thrusts becoming erratic.

“Fill me up, babe” you ask, biting your lower lip, he also looks amazing when he comes

And so Joel does, you feel his cock pulsing inside of you and filling you with his hot cum. Groaning a few times, panting, his head falling back and you see the veins in his neck. The smirk stretches on his face when he looks down again.

"Oh, babe, you look really fucking good in my sheets” he shakes his head, winking “A perfect match, actually, I think you should stay"

“Joel!” you laugh as he kisses your knees and legs, giving a few bites on the way

He slowly pulls himself out of you, his cum leaking. Joel goes to his bathroom, grabbing a towel to clean you up and water for you to drink. He rubs the towel with such care and devotion, always stopping to kiss your lips with a smile. Joel Miller, just as you, couldn’t be happier. Right now he can’t stop thinking of how badly he wants you to be his girlfriend.

“Want to take a shower, babe?” he strokes your belly

“Only if you bathe me” you wink at him

“I’ll do whatever you want. Can you stay the night?” he tilts his face and gives you that look, the one he knows you can’t resist “I love to sleep cuddled up with you”

“You don’t even have to ask, my love” his heart skips a beat once he hears this word coming out of your lips

Together you both take a shower, a warm and relaxing shower, Joel hugs you and makes sure to kiss you and take care of you. Cleaning you up, all the sweat and sex leaving both of your bodies. After you finish, you both lay in bed, cuddled up, he pulls you to lay on his chest. Your fingers draw lazy and random patterns on his tummy, caressing it with care and love. He plays with your hair, rolling it on his fingers and stroking it lightly.

You can feel the kisses on your face and chest, waking up naked, tangled in Joel’s sheets, he is sitting up on the side of the bed, looking at you with a smile, his hand brushing the hair from your face. The soft morning light illuminates your face, making you more beautiful than you already are. On his bedside table, there is a tray with coffee and toast. That’s a lot for Joel Miller to cook. You smile softly, sitting up and pulling his face to yours, kissing his lips.

“It ain’t fair you know, how perfect you look on my sheets in every goddamn way” he shakes his head, still with his lips on yours “Even with this messy hair, sleepy face. At every hour, every lighting and every possible position”

“Joel, you’re so sweet” you smile softly, your hand cupping his face and your thumb brushing gently

“You’re sweet and beautiful” he kisses the palm of your hand “I really really like you, risk to say I’m already in love”

“I’m in love with you too, Miller” you tilt your head “How could I not?”

“Would you go out with me tonight? I just don’t want to stay away from you”

“Of course, my house again?” you wink

“Wherever you want”

You both enjoy breakfast together, no rush, just enjoying each other’s company. Kissing, feeding each other, and laughing. Being with one another is so easy, so good. It feels like you’re meant to be together after all.

“Joel, unfortunately I have to go” you stroke his thigh “I have to go to work and I don’t want Ellie to think badly of me”

“You shouldn’t care about what Ellie thinks, I’m in love with you, that’s all I care about”

After breakfast, Joel walks you home, this time a little far from each other, it is daylight and you don’t want people to know you’re sleeping with Joel yet. You actually do, but you’re scared it’s too soon. And he hasn’t told Ellie yet. When you get to the front of your house, you both stop in front of each other.

“That’s me!” you bite the side of your lower lip “I guess I see you tonight?”

“You will” he cups your face with one hand, holding it firmly.

Joel leans down and kisses your cheek slowly.

“I can’t wait to.”

You giggle and look into his eyes. You say your goodbyes, and Joel turns around to walk home, giving you one last look back. He makes his way home, only planning to ask you to be his girlfriend this time. It has to be special, and also thinking about how he could introduce you as his girlfriend to Ellie. One thing he is sure of, he has to make you his. To be forever in his sheets.

Your house is empty, and so is your heart once Joel leaves. You can’t wait for him to ask you to be his girlfriend, to introduce you to everyone, so you don’t have to hide anymore. A smile comes to your face as you think that maybe you can ask him to be your boyfriend, not wait. All you want is to make him yours. So he can be forever in your sheets.

Taglist @dingroguispunk @angel-scarlett-002 @ashleyfilm @pedrofan @sara-alonso @callmebyyournick-name

[popcornforone]

Summer Indulgance

A Harry Castillo Fan Fic

How dare he look this good. Like how dare he however it got the creative writing juices flowing. So here we are with a new fic for Harry

Synopsis:- Harry takes you away to paradise for a spontaneous holiday but unfortunately work is taking his attention away from you, so you need to remind him of why he is here.

Word count:-2900

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! PIV swc, oral sex, cowgirl, teasing, swearing, spoiling, teasing, jealousy, over indulgence. If you read my Harry fics at Christmas this could be an earlier chapter to it.

Thanks for reading peoples. It’s always appreciated

Spontaneous wasn’t a word you associated with Harry. Driven, competitive & loyal were far more appropriate. So when he came round to yours one evening and, after giving you yet another mind-blowing orgasm, casually asked, “What are you doing from Monday for the next ten days?” your head was in even more of a spin.

A few phone calls & emails later, you found yourself at the airport, relaxing in the first-class lounge before boarding your flight. As you sipped champagne, Harry happily explained the difference between the various types on offer while you smiled, amused at how effortlessly he seemed to fit into this world.

Being a career man, Harry spent the first few hours of the flight responding to work emails before finally closing his laptop & turning his full attention to you & the incredible service onboard. You were on your way to Chile.

Most couples took a mini break when things started getting serious. Usually that meant a long weekend in the Hamptons or the Florida Keys.

Not Harry.

Harry’s idea of a romantic getaway was ten days in one of the most beautiful countries in South America, spoiling you rotten & treating you like a queen.

Your jaw dropped as the doors to your private clifftop villa swung open.

Staff appeared to take your luggage & insisted they would unpack everything for you. The private chef introduced himself & asked about any dietary requirements before explaining that every meal could be tailored to exactly what you wanted. Then the housekeeper offered to book you a massage to help you recover from the long flight.

It really was paradise.

You happily accepted the massage while Harry stepped outside to take a call from one of the partners at his firm.

“Last call, I promise,” he’d said with an apologetic smile.

That had been mid-afternoon on the day you arrived.

There had now been two full days since then.

When you woke up the following morning, Harry was already on the phone discussing finance. Every time you caught his eye, he’d smile, hold up a finger and mouth, One minute.

That minute never came.

On the second day, a Teams meeting stretched from breakfast well into lunchtime. You’d tried distracting him by sending a few rather suggestive photos from your sun lounger, smiling to yourself as you hit send.

Nothing.

You’d even wandered past the open doors of his office in your favourite swimsuit, deliberately taking your time in the hope he’d glance up.

He didn’t.

Harry was one of the most hopeless romantics you’d ever met when he wanted to be.

Right now, though… Any chance of romance, or even five uninterrupted minutes of his attention, felt utterly hopeless.

So here you were on the third day, slipping off your sundress before stepping into the infinity pool in your red tie-up bikini.

Cool. Calm. Unlike the slow-building frustration bubbling away inside you.

Harry had eaten breakfast with you that morning before receiving a couple of texts. After that, he’d gone for a run while you listened to music, eventually deciding to head out for a mid-morning swim.

You were halfway through your sixth length of breaststroke when you caught him arriving out of the corner of your eye. He peeled off his sweat-soaked white running vest & tossed it onto a nearby lounger.

He’d been working out more recently. Not that you’d ever minded the little softness around his stomach, it was part of what made Harry, Harry, but since you’d started dating he’d toned up, lost some weight & become noticeably more defined. It was one hell of a view.

He lowered himself onto the edge of a sun lounger, draping a cold towel around the back of his neck as he caught his breath.

Smiling to yourself, you slowly began swimming towards him. Maybe now you’d finally get your boyfriend back.

His phone vibrated. Without hesitation, he picked it up.

“Castillo,” he answered instantly, leaning back against the lounger.

You couldn’t make out the conversation, only the steady stream of “Yes, of course,” & “Absolutely,” that followed.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” you muttered.

You pushed yourself away from the pool’s edge much harder than necessary. Your leisurely breaststroke became an aggressive front crawl, your feet kicking harder with every length, sending water splashing behind you.

The voice in your head was just as relentless.

“Work comes first.”

“He’s only able to pay for this because he works so much.”

“Maybe this is just what dating Harry Castillo is like”

“Maybe he’s not interested anymore.”

“At least the sex is good”

Each thought was louder than the last, no matter how hard you swam, you couldn’t seem to escape them.

Eventually your arms began to ache. You rolled onto your back & simply floated, staring up at the cloudless Chilean sky as you tried to slow your breathing.

After a few moments, you turned your head.

Harry was still there. Still sitting on the lounger. Still looking down at his phone. He clearly seemed to be waiting for another call.

You sighed.

Then… An idea crept into your head.

Slowly, a smile spread across your face. If Harry was determined to keep staring at that phone, perhaps you just needed to give him something far more interesting to look at.

Decision made, you took one final breath before swimming towards the steps. Confidently taking your stride. The water streamed from your shoulders as you slowly climbed out of the pool, the Chilean sun instantly warming your skin. You ran both hands back through your wet hair, squeezing out the excess water before letting it fall around your shoulders like you were a Bond Girl feom back in the day.

Harry was still looking at his phone but the patter of water disturbed him & he looked up.

His gaze froze. The phone left on the other lounger.

A slow, unmistakable smirk spread across his face as his eyes travelled from your bare feet to your face. Taking in every second.

“Well…” he murmured. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

You folded your arms with a satisfied smile as you turned to walk his way, your chest glistening.

“Is this better than looking at a screen?”

He laughed quietly.

“Oh, sweetheart…” His eyes flicked briefly to the phone before returning to you. “It is considerably better.”

“I was beginning to wonder.”

“I can see that.”

You took another few steps towards him, stopping just close enough for him to catch the scent of your sunscreen mixed with chlorine & Whats was on the breeze.

“So,” you said, tilting your head, “have I finally managed to get your attention?”

Harry looked you up & down once more before giving a small nod. His shorts betraying him.

“I don’t think I could look anywhere else if I tried.”

“Right answer baby”

“I’ve always been right you know…”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t push your luck.”

“Oh?” he asked, his grin widening.

“No. You’ve spent two days making me compete with your work even though we’re in paradise.”

Harry opened his mouth to defend himself. Before he could say a word, the phone screen lit up with a text. You grabbed it before he could, swiped it to silent & turned it upside down on the other lounger.

“There.”

“No phone?”

“No phone.”

He looked at you for a long moment before a boyish smile crept across his face.

“I suppose…” he said, “…I can live with that.”

Before you could reply, his hand slipped around your wrist. With one gentle tug, he pulled you towards him & his hand tugged at the knot on your top.

You gave a surprised laugh as you lost your balance slightly, landing in his lap before then peeling the bikini top off to expose your breasts & moving to straddle him.

“There’s my siren,” he said softly.

“Finally.” You mumbled back. Your lips connected deeply, tongues intertwined. His hand cupping your breast as you started to grind on top of his lap making him even more responsive. Making the kiss more passionate. Making the moment more intense with only one destination.

“I was wondering when I’d get my boyfriend back, no point having paradise alone.”

Harry couldn’t help smiling.

“I’m not going anywhere baby” he moaned & tugged at the sting on the bikini bottoms. Your hips already rolling knowing that pleasure will soon be yours. You lifted sightly so you could shimmy off his shorts. Extremely happy he had been commando underneath.

His hands held you in place, and he whimpered.

“You’re always beautiful, sweetheart, but right now…” His breath caught at the sensation of you sinking down slowly as he filled you up, watching the euphoria wash over your face. It took him a moment to remember to speak. He was bewitched by your look of desire.

“…Fuck…” he moaned again as you rolled for the first time and started to touch yourself. “…you’re a goddess.”

A guttural moan escaped his lips. He couldn’t stop touching you as you straddled him and ground against him, his own hips matching yours. His hands went from your thighs to your breasts, even trailing the water that dripped from your hair from swimming down your body. Whenever they reached your clit, he made sure to stay there a beat longer.

It made your eyes roll back. It made your own rhythm faster. It made the pleasure intoxicating.

Neither of you cared if the staff walked in or if people in another villa had binoculars to spy on you. You were one, making love. The smell of the pool, sun lotion, sweat & sex aroused you both. Your hands matted in his happy trail. Your mouth hungry for every kiss. His hair, usually pristine, now a mess from desire. His breath inconsistent. You could feel his heart race. You could feel each thrust. Each second felt like a minute of pleasure.

Making love was easy with Harry, & the climax was no exception.

He pulled you down on top of him. Quick squelching noises would have been heard if you weren’t both moaning and kissing. Flesh was grabbed as he hit that magical spot again and again, & after one kiss, when he bit your bottom lip, that was enough.

Your orgasm pulsed through every nerve, almost an out-of-body experience, which you rode out before he then screamed out your name one last time & jerked, cumming deep inside you. Almost stuttering to a halt.

Sweat from your exertion now covered you both, along with the midday sun glaring down at the sight beneath it.

Two naked bodies tangled together in a mess, smelling of sex, exhausted but covered in pleasure.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were your breathing gradually settling & the waves crashing against the cliffs below.

Harry rested his forehead against yours, brushing a damp strand of hair behind your ear before stealing another slow kiss. Glowing in a moment of bliss.

“You know,” he murmured, smiling against your lips, “that was a very effective way of getting my attention.”

You laughed softly.

“I tried talking.”

“I deserved that.”

“You did.”

His thumb traced lazy circles against your hip as he looked at you, a softness returning to his expression. The sweet man who dotes you emerging from the firey passionate man who just made you cum.

“I’m sorry.” You tilted your head & looking into his big brown eyes, they were pleading for forgiveness. “For making you feel like work was more important.”

You studied him for a second before gently brushing your fingers through his now thoroughly messed-up hair.

“I just wanted my boyfriend back.”

“You’ve got him now babes.”

“I’d better have.”

“You do. You have all my attention now”

He leaned in to kiss you again, lingering just long enough to make you smile into it.

“I’ve missed this,” he admitted quietly.

“So have I.”

You settled against his chest, listening to his heartbeat finally returning to normal. The warm Chilean sun bathed the terrace, & for the first time since you’d arrived, everything felt wonderfully peaceful. Just you & Harry. In love. Soaked in sweat & happiness.

Buzz! Buzz!

Harry’s phone began to ring.

You both looked towards the abandoned lounger. Harry groaned dramatically, letting his head fall back.

“It’ll stop.”

It didn’t. You raised an eyebrow.

“It could be important.”

“So could this,” he replied, tightening his arms around you. The phone continued to ring. With an amused sigh, you slipped out of his embrace & reached across to pick it up. He squeezed your bum as you did.

“If this is another work call,” you teased, glancing back over your shoulder, “you’re buying me that handbag I’ve been saving for.”

Harry chuckled. You didn’t want to rely on Harry for gifts & money, but every time you saw that bag he said he’d get it for you, like you’d say you were getting coffee for a friend.

“Deal.”

You smiled to yourself as you accepted the call.

“Hello?”

A polite voice answered immediately.

“Good afternoon. Am I speaking with Mr. Castillo’s partner? We’re just calling to confirm this evening’s private dinner reservation…”

Your cheeks instantly warmed. You didn’t really hear the rest of what they were saying you just blinked at Harry.

“Oh…”Harry was watching you with a knowing smile, having an idea what this was about.

“I think… this is for you.”

You held the phone out. Harry chuckled, taking it from your hand.

“Harry Castillo speaking.”

You watched him listen for a moment before replying.

“Let’s go with the Krug… yes, that’s perfect. Thank you. We’ll see you this evening.”

He ended the call and placed the phone back on the lounger.

“So…” he said innocently.You folded your arms.

“So?”

“If we’re having champagne tonight…” he teased, “which one do you think you’d have picked?”

You couldn’t help laughing.

“I thought you’d been ignoring me for work.”

“I know. I had been but then I felt guilty.”

“You’ve been planning all this?”

He nodded.

“We’re going to the best restaurant in the city tonight, I want it to be perfect”

A grin spread across his face. You could tell there was more to come. Harry was not good at surprises.

“Also What if I told you I might’ve managed to turn our ten-day holiday into two weeks?”

You blinked.

“What?”

“I may have pulled a few strings.” He gently brushed his fingertips along your arm before leaning in to press a soft kiss beneath your jaw.

“Consider it my apology.” Another kiss. His hand wandering towards somewhere more intimate, the brush of his fingers made your breath hitch.

“I wanted to make this unforgettable.”

You smiled, unable to hide it. Your own hand caressing his chest.

“Well…” He looked up expectantly. “I suppose I’d better ring my work & ask if they’ll let me disappear for another four days.”

Harry laughed.

“I had a feeling that might be your first question little miss over thinker.”

“I don’t exactly own a firm. I have only a set number of days leave.”

“No,” he said with a smile, “but if anyone deserves a little extra holiday… it’s you.”

You laughed, shaking your head.Harry’s grin widened.

“So About that…”

You frowned.

“What do you mean, about that?”

He wrapped his legs around you & you lay flat against him. Listening but knowing you were both once again becoming aroused.

“I may have made a couple of calls.”

Your eyes narrowed.

“Harry…”

“I spoke to your manager yesterday.”

You blinked.

“You what?”

“I explained I was trying to make up for being a terrible holiday companion for the first few days.”

“You weren’t terrible…”

“I was glued to my phone.” You couldn’t really argue with that. His smile softened.

“They were happy to help. Your leave’s already been extended. Provided my company assists theirs in a few things”

You stared at him for a moment before laughing in disbelief.

“You organised my annual leave without telling me?”

He shrugged with a sheepish smile.

“I had to make sure you’d say yes.”

You shook your head, unable to hide your grin.

“Well I mean what was I gonna do fly home economy” he laughed at that before wiping a stand of hair from your face. He cupped it & looked at you.

“Sweetheart, your now a woman of luxury, I’d never let you travel like that”

You slowly lowered your head & captures his lips in a tender kiss. It got hot & passionate, tongues fighting for attention, hands in each others hair. Feeling his penis get hand beneath you.

“you gotta taste for it now baby”

“Of what” you say as you kiss his jaw line.

“Of the best things in life, of the sweetest things I can get you.”

“I have a taste for it do i” he nodded as you sat up & scooted down his body & the Sun lounger taking his penis into your hand. He gasped at the touch instantly.

“Maybe I like the taste of a few things” you said with a wink before licking all of the length before taking him into your mouth.

That afternoon where you thought you would be ignored for work & emails, turned out to be nothing but unrequited attention & you both sun burnt as your sexual exploits continued on the Sun lounger.