#perdo

[foreverblondie23]

[queenofswords]

Rúnminations: I: Control

[concept/disclaimer/etc]

As I've taught the elder for years based on the surviving poems, lived experience comes to factor in. (Is this the difference in Óðinn's runemasters charge between interpret and receive? Who's to say.) So to start, I want to talk about Nauðiz, Perðo, Laguz, and the concept of control.

With Nauðiz, we have no control. We have "scant choice," we experience "state[s] of oppression and toilsome work." Many people see Hagalaz as the rune with the bad wrap, but there is agency in Hagalaz (although that's a different post). With Nauðiz, we are chilled by the frost. We have no choice. There is a lack of control, which is (in this rune's perspective, rightfully) troublesome and hurtful to us. I see Nauðiz also in relationship to Raiðo through its link with 'toil': the message, sometimes you are the horse.

The only other rune that offers no control is Perðo. Perðo, the rune of the unknown and unknowable: the dice cup of chance. As Jeanette Winterson wrote (unrelatedly), "You play, you win. You play, you lose. You play. It's the playing that's irresistible. [...] What you risk reveals what you value." We play because we have no control. If you fixed the game, if you knew for certain the outcome, it would no longer be a game—it would be something else. The joy of the game is the lack of control. In both Nauðiz and Perðo, we're given two looks at how to experience a lack of control in our situations.

I used to talk about the tensions between these two runes all the time, and it wasn't until this month that I experienced Laguz's lessons as it relates to control. Yes, yes, water, of all kinds, water and flow. Water that falls and water that swells, water that eddies, water that dazzles, confuses, terrifies. And how to learn from that. Words that, previously, landed in me like 'surrender,' 'flexibility,' 'adaptation.'

Recently, I've found another way to describe it: it's the choice to give up control. When I see it, now it says to me, You can have control here, in Laguz, if you want it—you can always swim upstream—but the suggestion is, perhaps, that you would flow further if you let go and let the current take you.

[smallscreengifs]

[martinbecker57]

The Last of US

English versionDeutsche Version TLOU HBO NO SPOILER, Just Pics Ellie and Joel walk through an apocalyptic world in 2023. Humanity has been decimated by a pandemic. They try to find rescue to save humanity. HBO is currently filming a series based on a game of the same name. The images are breathtaking. Ellie und Joel gehen durch eine apokalyptische Welt im Jahre 2023. Die Menschheit wurde…

[pedrospatch]

not a thing

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

part ii

summary: You and Joel had a private moment while Ellie was asleep. Or so you’d thought she was asleep.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. implied smut, but no actual smut. grumpy Joel, Ellie is a little shit.

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: nervous to write for TLOU but still giving it a shot! poor Ellie for being subjected to what i am about to subject her to lol. Edit: holy shit, i did not expect this to get much attention. thank you all sm for reading, liking and reblogging!

It had been an incredibly stupid thing to do.

So, so, so fucking stupid.

You knew that.

And Joel knew that.

You two were supposed to have been standing watch.

Not to mention, there had been a teenaged girl sleeping close by, just mere fucking yards away from the two of you had been—

Jesus Christ.

Dammit, you and Joel fucking knew better than to be this goddamn stupid.

Careless.

But neither of you could help yourselves.

It had been several weeks—actually, it had been several months since you two had been able to steal a private moment for yourselves. That moment would have been missed had you not somehow woken up in the middle of the night, only to find Joel wide awake, his rifle in hand as he stood watch while you and Ellie had slept. You’d offered to take his place for a few hours so he could get some rest too, but instead, a few minutes and many, many desperate, feverish kisses later, the two of you found yourselves on the other side of Bill’s old white and blue Chevrolet pickup truck, Joel’s jeans unzipped and your own jeans pulled down around your knees along with your underwear. He’d had you bent over, but still standing at a point where you could peek over the bed of the truck so that you could somehow keep a watchful eye out in between the moments of mind-numbing pleasure—both for any signs of potential danger and also for Ellie, who was passed out, curled up into a little ball in her sleeping bag and completely unaware of what her two reluctant protectors were doing behind the vehicle right next to her.

Your bottom lip was busted, bruised from biting down on it so hard.

The deal had been no noise, not even a single whimper, although you couldn’t remember how well either of you had stuck to that rule in the heat of the moment. It had been a quick fuck, just enough to give you and Joel some much needed relief from all of those pent up stresses and frustrations you two were carrying on your shoulders since Ellie had entered your lives just the week before. And just like back in the Boston QZ, Joel said nothing to you once it was over and done with.

It never hurt your feelings. It was just how things were.

It was some sort of twisted, fucked up unspoken pact the two of you had. 

Joel Miller fucked you, and then he just pretended like nothing ever happened, not until the next time he found himself buried inside of you.

It’s not like you expected Joel to return your feelings.

Hell, you weren’t even sure the man knew how to feel anything but anger, bitterness, and violence. 

Afterwards, Joel took you up on your offer to keep watch and slept for a couple of hours until sunrise came and had you both moving, packing up the truck and getting ready to continue the long drive ahead to Wyoming.

“She’s been oddly quiet,” Joel mumbled to you as he packed up the remnants of the small campsite into the bed of the pickup truck. “Go check on her.”

Obediently, you nodded and dropped the sleeping bag in your hands before turning away and walking over to where Ellie was sitting cross legged on the ground, her fingers mindlessly fiddling with a small, broken tree branch on the ground. “Hey,” you offered her a small smile. “It’s almost time to get going. You doing alright over here?”

She looked up at you and gave you a small nod. “Yeah. Just cold as fuck since we can’t have a fucking fire going,” she said, tossing a tiny glare over in Joel’s direction. “But other than that? I’m just fucking peachy.”

You chuckled and shrugged out of your worn out, brown windbreaker jacket. You draped it over Ellie’s shoulders before taking a seat beside her on the ground. She may have been a thorn in Joel’s side—then again, who wasn’t a thorn in Joel Miller’s side—but you’d warmed up to her fairly quickly. A lot quicker than your partner, anyway. He was still a work in progress.

“Did you sleep okay?”

Ellie nodded, clutching your jacket close. “Kinda,” she shrugged her small shoulders. “The ground was really hard and uncomfortable. I woke up a couple of times throughout the night and had trouble falling back asleep.”

Your smile faded ever so slightly. “Oh? You did?”

Noticing the sudden change in your demeanor, a small smirk crossed the girl’s face. “I knew you and McGrumps over there were a thing.”

You nearly choked on your own saliva as you nervously sputtered out, “W-What the hell are you talking about?”

Ellie raised an eyebrow at you, shooting you a knowing look as her smirk widened.

Oh for fuck’s sake. Ellie had caught you and Joel while you two were—fucking?

Mortified did not even come close to cutting it.

“Oh god,” You muttered, your face on fire. 

“I really hope you two are being smart and using protection,” she added teasingly. “What’s that saying? Wrap it before you tap it?”

“Ellie!” You hissed, glancing over your shoulder. Joel went about his business and it was times like these where you were actually thankful that his hearing wasn’t what it used to be. You turned back to her and quickly started trying to explain yourself. “Ellie, I don’t know what you think you saw but—”

“Oh, it was too dark to see anything. I heard you guys.” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “Back behind the truck.” She paused, thoroughly enjoying every single moment of complete and utter discomfort she was causing you. “You know, if that’s gonna keep happening, I’m really gonna need you guys to find me a Walkman with some headphones. Noise cancelling headphones, please and thank you.”

You dropped your head into your hands and anxiously rubbed your face with your palms. “Fuck. I’m really sorry, Ellie,” Was all that you could say.

What else could you say?

Sorry you had to hear me getting fucked by my partner while you were laying just feet away in your sleeping bag?

“Sorry for what? For not being able to keep it in your pants?” Ellie giggled, slapping your knee with her hand in an attempt to get you to lighten up. “I get it. Nature. Hormones. Biology and shit.”

You lifted your face from your hands. “Joel can’t know,” You warned her. “Or he won’t be able to look you or me in the eye ever again.”

Ellie groaned in exaggeration, throwing her head back. “Aw, come on! I really wanted to see him squirm.”

“Me squirming should be fucking enough you little shit,” You laughed, shoving her playfully with your elbow. Once both of your giggles had subsided, in a more serious tone, you told her, “And for the record, we are not a thing.”

Ellie stared at you in disbelief. “Get out of here, you lying sack of shit! You totally are!”

“I know it’s hard to understand. But just because two people—” You trailed off, trying to choose your words carefully. It was more often than not that you had to remind yourself that despite what Ellie had been through and all she had seen, she was still fourteen. A fucking child.

“Bump uglies?” she suggested, wiggling her eyebrows.

You sighed. “Jesus Christ, please don’t ever fucking say that out loud again.” You paused briefly, running a hand through your hair. “But yes. Just because two people do what he and I were doing, that doesn’t mean anything. For a lot of people, it can be quite meaningless actually. It does not mean they are a thing. Me and Joel? Not a thing. Understood?”

Ellie blinked. “That’s probably the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Even before last night, I knew you two were a thing. Whether either of you admit it or not. I can tell.”

You knew better than to play into what she was saying, but the sheer curiosity got the better of you.

What had Ellie noticed about you and Joel?

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged, bringing her knees up to her chest. “I dunno. The way you look at him. The way he looks at you. He’s a guy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about too many things or too many people. But I know he does give a shit about you. He cares about you. Even if he might have a shitty ass way of showing it.”

You glanced back over at Joel and then back at Ellie, confused.

“And you can deny it all you want. But if there’s one thing that stone cold asshole cares about, it’s definitely you,” Ellie stated firmly.

Your mouth fell open slightly, unsure what to say to her.

“What the hell are you two yappin’ about over there?” Joel called, looking over his shoulder.

“Nothing!” Ellie practically sang, causing him to roll his eyes and turn his attention back to his task.

“Well then, get off your asses and let’s get a fuckin’ move on. Ain’t got time to waste.”

[givemequeen]

Accidental Confessions: Pedro Pascal x reader

request: What about a Pedro Pascal friends to lovers? He just seems like such a great friend. It would be cute to see an angsty/fluffy friends to lovers. a/n: I’m back bitches? pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader summary: you go to a party with Pedro and accidentally let something slip. warnings: sexy time. slight oral (female receiving). honestly just normal sexy stuff. oh! unprotected sex (remember to wrap it before you tap it, lads) word count: 5409

You stepped into the party already anxious, your hands were slightly shaking as you made your way around the room overfilled with strangers. Pedro had invited you to some fancy actor party of his and you had regrettably agreed. The last thing you wanted to do right now was fake smile at a bunch of people you didn’t know. It would’ve been so much better if you had just stayed home in bed watching TV. 

You shook the thought out of your head, no, you were here for your friend. He invited you specifically. He wants you here.

As you silently chastised yourself for wishing you weren’t here, you found yourself at the bar. The bartender – a young man with healthy, bouncing curls down to his shoulders whose smile revealed two small dimples on each cheek – asked you what you wanted as he prepared a drink for a girl in a stunning dress.

Pedro hadn’t exactly told you what to wear, just something “formal”, so you had landed on a long, thin, silver dress with spaghetti straps that you had bought on a whim. Thankfully, you seemed to fit in with the rest of the people. Though they did seem much more put together than you did.

You told the bartender your order – lemon vodka – and sat on one of the stools. You were about to take your phone out of your small purse when the lady that was sat next to you spoke. She called out your name and you shot up. 

“Is it you?” she said with a dashing smile. Her teeth were perfectly straight and extremely white. She had a tan and a nose that you could ski on. 

“Yeah?” you said, a bit unsure. 

“It’s wonderful meeting you.” She stuck her hand out, of course she had a perfect manicure. 

“Thanks, you too.” You shook her hand; thankful you had at least attempted to paint your nails a colour to match your dress. “I don’t mean to be rude but who are you?” 

She laughed – obviously a perfect laugh, no snorting or high-pitched squeals – and told you her name. “I’ve worked with Pedro.” 

You cringed at the way she said his name. “Oh.” You said with a slightly pang of jealousy. “So, how do you know me?”

“Are you kidding? He talks about you all the time, sweetheart.” She laughed, completely taking you back. “So how long have you two been together?” 

Just as you were about to open your mouth to tell her you guys weren’t together and what a ridiculous suggestion that was, the bartender handed you your drink. You smiled at him and politely took a sip before turning to the woman and again. 

However, this time, Pedro was stood right next to her. 

“Pedro!” you said, a smile light up your face. You stood up, set your drink on the bar, and gave him a hug. His strong, large, warm hands rested on your hips as you tucked your head in his neck and pressed yourself against his warm skin. He smelled perfect. Like the cologne you had seen in his bathroom one too many times and like him. Like his skin and his sweat and morning mist and almonds. 

You stood back before it got too weird. You felt hyperaware of his hands on your hips and how he had kept them there. “I was just talking to-” you turned to face the lady but she was gone. “Oh, she must’ve left.”

“Leah? Yeah we worked together last year, I told you about it.” He smiled and you nearly melted right there. That gorgeous smile that revealed a dimple in his right cheek and crinkled his eyes. “You look gorgeous.” He said as he took a step back and took you in. You spun around in order to give him a full view. “Absolutely perfect.”

“So do you, ver handsome.” You took a sip of your drink in order to hide your blush. 

“Come, I want you to meet some people.” You nodded and allowed Pedro to grab your hand and lead you through the masses of people. You spent the next three hours going from group to group. You knew some of the actors, either personally - well more like from some other party Pedro had invited you to - or because you had seen them in some show or movie. You politely listened to whatever they had to say and then kissed everyone goodbye before moving on to the next group. 

Though sometimes what the actors were saying was interesting, the thing that took your attention away the most was Pedro. Whenever he laughed, he would clap his hand on his chest and lean backwards. You couldn’t stop paying attention to the heat coming from his hand when he would place in on your lower back as he guided you to the next group. 

It was around eleven o’clock when you stepped outside from some air. Pedro had offered to fill up your drink but you refused as you were starting to feel a little light headed. So, instead, he went to get you both a snack and a glass of water. 

You were standing in the apartment’s balcony, it was pretty high up but it had the most breath-taking view of the city. All around you lights from different buildings and streets winked up at you. You took a deep breath in and gripped the railing of the balcony. You were alone and did not hear when Pedro came out. 

“Hey there.” He said, he was holding a bowl of peanuts and a glass of water. “I already had some water; I hope you don’t mind sharing.” He grinned sheepishly. 

“Of course I don’t mind, silly.” You smiled and took the glass. “Thank you.” You said as you popped a peanut into your mouth. 

You sat down on one of the outdoor sofas and, sighing, lifted your legs so they laid across Pedro’s lap. You both quietly munched on the snack and stared at the sky. Pedro moved your dress out of the way, lifting the hem until your knees. He began drawing on your leg and you nearly groaned out loud at how good his touch felt. 

“So, how long are you in New York for?” you finally asked. You always dreaded this answer, he wasn’t here for long, always in one country or another filming. 

Of course, you were happy for him. He was doing what he had always dreamed of doing but a small – or large – part of you was selfish and wanted him to stay in New York so you could see him every day. 

“For a while.” He said. You look up at him and smiled. 

“Really? No show to shoot? No premier or award show to attend?” you tried to hide your excitement but failed miserably. 

“No.” he laughed. “I’m all yours.” He said as his finger glided up and down your leg. 

“Awesome.” You said, unsure what else to say. I wish you were all mine… 

“Hmm?”

“What?” you echoed looking up at him. 

“What did you just say?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, his hand had frozen highway up your shin. 

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” You sat up, pulling your legs away from him. “Fuck, did I say “I wish you were all mine” out loud? Fuck.” you thought. You probably had had more to drink than you had initially thought. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. 

“Yes, anyway I better get going.” You quickly stood up and before he had the chance to follow, you dashed inside. “Thanks for inviting me.” 

Quickly, you made your way through the crowds of people, carefully avoiding those you knew were chatterboxes, and left the apartment. You looked behind you and nervously began pressing the call button for the elevator. As soon as it opened, you darted inside and began repeatedly pressing the close button. 

Soon enough, the elevator reached the reception and you bolted across it. You waved goodbye to the concierge who had helped you earlier last night and quickly glanced over your shoulder as you stepped outside. Pedro was nowhere to be seen and you weren’t sure whether to be disappointed or relived. You hailed a taxi down, but they all zoomed past you, either busy or completely ignoring you. 

“Hey.” You heard Pedro call your name from behind. “Where are you running off to?” he tapped your shoulder and you spun around. 

“Hi, sorry. Just gotta get home, yknow.” You smiled, trying to play it cool but Pedro saw right past your act. 

“Okay, let me accompany you.” He stood beside you and hailed a taxi down. Of course, they immediately listened to him. He opened the door for you to get in. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to. I’ll get home fine.” You said as you got in. 

“What kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t take you home?” he said as he too got in. 

Reluctantly, you nodded and he gave the taxi driver your address. You spent the ride staring outside and cursing New York’s traffic. Walking or the subway would’ve taken you less and maybe you wouldn’t have been caught up by Pedro. But the subway wasn’t the safest especially with what you were wearing and your feet hurt too much to walk all the way home. 

Pedro sat silently next to you, his hand on the middle seat, and eyes glued outside. When you finally got to your place, you jumped out of the taxi and thanked Pedro. However, he too stepped outside. He paid the driver and followed you inside your apartment’s foyer. 

You couldn’t exactly slam the door in his face, so you let him in and got into the elevator. You expected this ride to be just like the taxi drive, silent and a tiny bit awkward. Pedro surprised you by hitting the emergency button - which caused the elevator to jolt to a halt - and turning to you. 

“Hey, talk to me, why did you run off? And don’t say you needed to get home.” He said, he stood completely in front of you. You glanced up and mustered a smile. 

“I- well- it’s just-” you couldn’t help but glancing down at his lips and back up at his eyes. Those deep brown eyes you could just lose yourself in. 

“Yeah? You just what?” he prompted, taking a step closer to you. You held your breath, unsure as to what to do. 

“I think you know.” You finally said, you pushed your shoulders back and held your hands together behind your back. 

“Oh? I do?” he asked, he was so close you could feel his breath fanning across your face. It smelt like mint and alcohol and you so desperately wanted to put your mouth and his. 

Gently, he cupped your cheek and you let out a breath, your hands went to his chest as his other hand went to your hips. “Please let me kiss you, I’ve been dying to kiss you.” He whispered. 

You nodded and closed your eyes, waiting for the heavenly taste of his lips. Slowly, Pedro pressed his lips against yours, you let out a sigh that sounded almost like a whine, and pulled him closer by the jacket of his suit. You moved your head to the side, allowing him more space to kiss you. 

His lips felt so extremely smooth and soft, almost like what you imagined kissing a cloud would feel like. He groaned into your mouth and that noise made you weak in the knees. Pedro let his hand drop to your waist and you both walked backwards until your back hit the elevator wall. 

He pulled you up so you could rest on the safety rail. You wrapped one leg around his waist, the dress restricting your movement, and he pressed himself against you. Now it was your turn to groan. He was clearly hard; you could feel it pressing against where you needed it the most. 

He rolled his hips and you moaned again. Taking advantage of the situation, he slipped his tongue into yours. You allowed it and let your tongue dance over his. One of his hands move to your behind, he grabbed the soft flesh there and pressed himself even harder into you. His other hand went to your leg, he pulled your dress up, feeling how smooth your legs were. 

“Fuck.” He whispered against your lips as he pulled apart for air. “I want to-” 

“Everything alright in there?” a voice called out from the intercom. 

You jumped away from Pedro, slightly pushing him away. “Erm, yes, just an accident.” You coughed and tried to fix your dress. 

“Alright.” Said the voice. Pedro hit the button again and the elevator lurched into life. 

You let your fingers glide over your lips, reminiscing on how sweet he tasted.  Pedro was now leaning against the back wall of the elevator, not staying anything, as you stood near the doors. 

Finally, they opened and you stepped into the corridor. You could hear him follow you and wait patiently as you took your keys out. Once you found them, you fumbled with them until you managed to slide them into the keyhole. You turned the key and a small click resonated. 

You turned to face him and struggled to meet his eyes. He was staring down at you, his face tense as though unsure of what to do and hands in his pockets. 

“Do you want to come in?” you asked. Smiling, he nodded and followed you in. You turned the lights on and made your way to the living room. 

“Sit. Do you want a drink?” Pedro stood by the entrance of the living room, his body leaning against the door frame, and stared at you. 

“No.”

“Oh… Do you want water? Or some food?” you said as you moved your weight from one foot to another. Your heels were killing you. 

“No.” he repeated, his voice dark and low. He pushed off the door frame and took a step towards you. 

“Oh.” You swallowed and watched in anticipation as he got closer to you. “What do you want then?” you stuttered. 

“I want you.” He said as he placed his hands on your hips again. “And you?” 

“Me too.” You quickly said before kissing him. 

Pedro groaned into your mouth and grabbed you wherever he could. Your hands were on him like metal on a magnet. He yanked you up, hands on your ass. Your heels fell off, making a loud thump when they reached the floor, but you didn’t care. 

“Careful, my dress.” You breathed. He pulled it up, nearly uncovering your ass, and squeezed your thighs. He pressed you to the wall and continued kissing you. His mouth was wonders on yours, drawing out the dirtiest of noises. 

“My room.” You said. 

Wordlessly, Pedro pulled you off the wall and started making his way to your room with you in his arms. You grabbed his shoulders and felt the muscles underneath the suit. Fuck, you couldn’t wait to tear all this extra fabric off of him. Once you reached your room he dropped you onto your bed and crawled on top of you. 

You pushed the jacket off of him as his lips attached themselves to your neck. Like a starving man, he began kissing and licking your neck. His kisses were soft and harsh at the same time, his tongue sliding over what his teeth marked. You moaned his name and begged for more. 

“Clothes.. there’s too much…” you mumbled pushing him back. He laughed and began unbuttoning his shirt. Impatiently, you pulled his shirt free from his pants and undid the buttons at the bottom. Pedro grabbed your chin and made you look up at him. 

“Patience, mi amor.” he said, a smile creeping onto his face. 

“Don’t laugh at me.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“I’m not laughing.” He finished undoing all his button. “You’re so beautiful, I’m just happy.” You felt a rush of heat making its way up your neck and down your stomach. 

“Oh shut up.” You covered your face. 

Slowly, he peeled your hands away from your face and kissed you gently. “You are.” He kissed you again. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” 

He was finally done with all his buttons. You pushed the shirt off of his shoulders and sighed in delight. Your hands went to his stomach, feeling the warm skin, and kissed him right above his belly button. There was a trail of dark hair leading down into his pants and for a moment you wandered if that hair grew there just to tease you. 

He kicked off his shoes and let his shirt fall to the ground. You pushed him onto the bed and pulled your dress up, so it pooled at your hips, in order to straddle him. His hands returned to their familiar positions at your hips, and you took in his chest. 

Sure, you had seen him shirtless before whenever you went to the beach or pool – or when you drunkenly searched up shirtless photos of him with your friends – but you had never seen him laying on your bed like this, his hands on your ass and eyes on your breasts. 

“I think now it’s you who has “too much clothes”.” he said, quoting you. His fingers went to your straps, leaving your ass cold, and with a nod from you, he pushed them off your shoulders. Slowly, the dress fell and left your breasts exposed. You though, you would perhaps want to cover yourself, but something about the way he stared at them made you stand up straighter. 

He sat up, pulling you against him, and kissed your chest. He moved to one breast, planting opened mouthed kisses onto the soft skin and held the other breast with his hands. He gently squeezed and let his mouth hover about your nipple. His breath fanned over it, hardening it. You pushed forward, forcing him to make contact. 

He kissed you softly, like he had all the time in world, and gently. But you wanted more, and you want it now. You had waited too long for it to be this slow. You told him so. 

“I have waited too long for it to go too fast. I’m going to take my time.” You didn’t know what was hotter, the fact he wanted to take his time with you or the fact he had wanted this for a long time too. He kissed you harder and took your nipple between his teeth. You moaned his name and grabbed his hair, tugging on it slightly. This earned you a small groan, you did it again and he groaned your name. 

His hand squeezed your other breast, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipple. You sighed in pleasure and grinded against him. You wanted to feel him everywhere and weren’t sure how long you were going to let him “take his time” with you. He was rock hard and you were dying to see him. Completely see him. 

He moved away from your breast and swapped sides, making sure both sides of you got the same treatment. “Oh, Pedro, fuck.” You said, each moan making him go harder and faster. “Please, I need you…” 

Pedro pulled away and tugged the dress over your hips. You lifted your arms, allowing him to completely take your dress off. He threw it off the side and groaned as he took in your entire body. 

“You’re perfect.” He leaned forward and kissed your chest. You arched your back, pushing yourself towards him. He flipped you over and held himself above you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tugged him down, wanting to feel his weight on top of you and between your legs. 

“Take your pants off.” You said, your hands fumbling with the belt. “Please.” You added after he gave you a cheeky look. 

Pedro rose and quickly took off his pants. You sat up, resting your weight on your elbows, and let your mouth fall open as you stared at his crotch. His erection was extremely obvious, it was creating a tent in his underwear. He placed his hands at his hips. 

“Wow. Okay. Come here. Now.” You pulled him towards you and kissed him, eager to get to it. 

He kissed you hard, taking your lower lip between his teeth and tugging on it. You couldn’t take it any longer, you stuck your hand between you and down his underwear and wrapped your fingers around him. He winced when you touched him and let his head fall onto your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, did that hurt?” you went to move your hand away but he grabbed your wrist. 

“Continue.” He begged. “I’m just… really hard.” He laughed, refusing to meet your eyes. You bit your lower lip and attempted to hide the smile that was threatening to jump out. You wrapped your fingers around him again. He was thick and, you quickly discovered, long. You began stroking him and his hips began rolling, meeting you halfway. Some pre-cum leaked out of his tip, wetting your hand. You squeezed your thighs around him, eager to have him inside. 

Almost as though you had requested it, Pedro let one of his hands fall between you. He pressed his thumb against you through your underwear and began rotating it. You moaned, bucking your hips. It felt too good. 

“Please, let’s…” you didn’t have to say anything else. He laid on your side and placed his warm hand on your lower stomach. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, slowly itching downwards. 

“Yes.” 

“If you want me to stop at any time, tell me.” He said as he stared into your soul. 

“Yes.” You looked away, terrified your eyes would betray your deepest secrets. 

“Look at me.” His voice was low and husky, it made that warm feeling in your lower stomach drop lower. You turned to look at him, the hand that wasn’t on your lower stomach tucked your hair behind your ear before returning to its position holding him up. 

He kissed you gently and slowly slipped his hand under your underwear. You gasped as his finger touched you, it was barely anything but with Pedro if felt like everything. He moved his finger in small circles and watched you, entranced by the soft noises you were making. You grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. 

Gradually, he slipped a finger inside of you, just one, and kept it there. You looked at him, mouth slightly open, and nodded. He slipped another finger and curled them. You fell back, unable to support yourself, and squeezed his shoulder harder. Pedro began slipping his fingers in and out, each time he entered you he curled them. His thumb began drawing small circles just where you needed it. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment, and opened your hips, giving him all the space he could need. 

“Fuck.” You breathed as he stroked something deep inside you. 

You arched your back, pushing your breasts into the air. As though by invitation, Pedro placed his mouth around your breasts and sucked. His kisses were harder this time but you welcomed them. Your hand went to his hair, tugging and scratching his scalp. The joint pleasure coming from his hands and mouth was overwhelming. You pushed your hips onto the bed and breasts into his mouth. 

“Pedro… I’m gonna…” you moaned. He picked up his pace and helped you reach the place you had been chasing. You felt that pleasure ripple through you, erupting from between your legs and reaching all the way down to the tip of your curled toes. It then rushed all the way up and exploded out of your mouth as a series of moans, whimpers, and pleas. 

When you finally came down your chest was rapidly rising and falling, as though you had ran a marathon. Pedro had pulled his finger out from you and was holding them in front of his face. You turned to look at him, your vision slightly blurry, and watched in awe as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. 

You pulled him to you, urging him to rest his weight on you, and kissed him. You kissed his neck, his sweat tasted sweet. You licked a line across his jugular vein and felt his rapid heartbeat under your tongue. 

“That was really good.” You said. “Your moans drive me crazy.” 

He rolled his hips against you and you moaned again. “Mmhm, just like that. You like this?” you nodded and he did it again. “What do you want now?” 

“You.” 

“You have me.” You looked over at him and gave him a look. “C’mon, you’re gonna have to be more specific than that.” he pressed his hips against you and arched an eyebrow. 

“Well… Okay…” you looked up, not wanting to reveal how flustered he made you. 

“Yes?” he cupped your jaw and kissed you. 

“I want you in me.” You finally said. 

“Lets get rid of these then, huh?” he said, tugging at your underwear. Pedro kissed his way down your torso until he was level with your hips. He hooked a finger around the band of your underwear and pulled it over your hips, knees, and, eventually, feet. He flicked them off to the side before taking you all in. “Fuck.” He said before planting a kiss right between your legs. He licked once before kissing your inner thigh. Then, he kissed his way back up to your lips. 

“Your turn.” You said, a smile tugging at your lips. Your hands went down to his underwear and you tugged it down, making him completely bare. You glanced down and let your mouth fall open. Pedro wrapped his hand around himself and pumped it a couple times. 

“I’m on the pill.” You blurted out. 

“That’s good.” He said, smiling down at you. 

“Are you- like, clean?” 

“Yes, even though I’m an actor-” 

“And a heartthrob.” You interjected. 

“Yes, right.” He laughed as he made his way back to you. “- I don’t go sleeping around with everyone.” 

“No, yeah, right, I didn’t meant that. Just…” 

“I’m messing, I know what you meant and yes I am. You?” 

You nodded. 

You reached your hands out and placed them on his shoulders, they were broad and warm, his skin felt reassuring under your fingers. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. Pedro lined himself up and momentarily pushed his hips forward. You sucked in a breath and shut your eyes, your legs squeezing him. 

“Hey, relax, okay?” he kissed you gently and you nodded, relaxing your thighs. He pushed in a little more and you let out a moan. He was stretching and filling you up in all the right ways. He pushed even more and you gripped his shoulders. His head fell beside yours, his voice was sweet like honey and reaching parts of you that you didn’t know existed. His words were carefully and perfectly chosen. 

Finally, he was all the way in. He groaned and rested his weight on you. He was heavy but it felt oddly reassuring, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and sighed, causing him to inch further into you. 

“Please, Pedro, move.” You urged. 

He complied and slowly pulled himself out halfway before sliding back inside. Each movement causing you to moan his name. You arched your back, pressing your chest against his, as he picked up the pace. Your hands were desperately moving up and down his back, one slid down to his ass and you gave it a squeeze. He didn’t seem to mind so you squeezed again. This time he reacted, he pulled himself further out and slammed into you. The noise of his flesh against yours was almost deafening. 

You grabbed his hair and pulled so he turned to look at you. His eyes were half closed, and mouth half opened. You kissed him and he kissed back with a force to match his thrusts. You felt him go deeper and deeper. His hands went to your face, cupping your cheek. You squeezed your legs around him. 

“Can I go on top?” you asked, pulling your lips away from his. 

“Yes, of course.” 

You both awkwardly rolled over and gasped at the new angle. His hands went to your hips, thumbs slowly drawing circles onto the soft skin. You spread your legs and moaned as you sunk further onto him. That feeling that drove you wild was starting to build up again in your lower abdomen. 

His hands started to guide you, urging you to rock forwards and backwards. You gladly complied, moaning at how gratifying it felt. One of his hand went to your left breasts and squeezed it. You leaned towards him and kissed him. His lips were a taste you could not get enough of. His tongue danced around yours at a beautiful pace. You pulled yourself up slightly and lowered again. He gasped. You did it again. He gasped again. 

“You like that?” you said. 

He kissed you harder and began lifting his hips to meet you halfway. As though this was a dance you had practiced for many hours in order to perfect, the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm. His hand squeezed, tongue licked, hips bucked. It was perfect but it couldn’t last long. 

“I think I’m close.” He said, almost apologetic. 

“Please cum in me.” You begged, surprised at how pathetic you sounded. 

In one quick motion, Pedro spun you around, holding you tight against his chest as he did so. He grabbed your hands and pinned them over your head with just one of his and resumed the thrusting of his hips. Then, his other hand settled between the two of you and his thumb began rapidly circling your clit. 

You moaned and moved, chest pressed against his, legs wrapped around him and quickly squeezed. His movements were becoming irregular and sloppy. 

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. I’ve been staring at you all night in that dress. You’re - shit - fucking perfect.” He said as he pounded into you one last time before grunting in pleasure. 

Just then, the overwhelming feeling that had been building itself deep inside of you toppled over. 

“Don’t stop.” You said as you felt him slow down. 

Pedro listened and bucked his hips hard. You pushed your shoulders into the bed, hands tightly gripping his hair, and let yourself enjoy the pleasure. You rolled your hips against him, hyper aware of the warmth shooting into you. You collapsed into the bed, chest heaving even faster that before. 

Pedro collapsed onto you, his weight comfortably crushing you. You stroked his hair as he nuzzled his face into your neck. 

“Was that also really good?” his voice was muffled. 

“Even more.” You said, happily sighing. Pedro pulled away from you as you whined in protest, him leaving your body felt like a betrayal. You were left empty, cold, and bare.

“Gotta get you cleaned up, mi amor.” He laughed. 

He walked into the bathroom and you grinned at the sight. He had an amazing ass. Fuck, you couldn’t look away. You rolled over in the bed to get a better view. Your smiled grew even more when he turned around, his boner not fully gone yet. 

“Damn.” You said. 

“Thanks?” He plopped down on the bed with a towel in hand and helped you get cleaned up. 

Then, you slid under the duvet. He clicked into placed behind you, his arms wrapping around you and dwarfing you. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and let his fingers dance over your thigh. And into the darkness, he spoke your name. 

“I don’t know what that meant to you…” He began. “But that was special to me. I’ve honestly been wanting to do that for a long while.” 

You froze as though remaining as still as possible would also freeze the moment, like any sound would shatter this dream and forcibly pull you back to a cruel and lonely reality.

“And, erm, you?” he nervously asked when you remained silent. 

You rolled around and stared up at him. “Me too, Pedro. I really like you and not just as a friend.” You smiled and kissed him. 

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you on top of him. You gasped when you felt something poking your butt. 

“Put that away!” 

“You don’t want a round two?” he smirked. 

“Pedro!”

[toxicanonymity]

Cargo. Silence can never be bought, only rented (pt. 4)

3.1k / dbf!Joel x f!Reader 18+ / pt 1 / master list

His arms loosen and you turn around to face him.  Bedhead is unreasonably sexy on him.   You try to kiss him and he dodges you again, going for your neck instead. . . He starts giving you a light hickey.  "You're evil," you say, pulling away to look at him.  He smiles wickedly, then it fades.  | next: part 5

Thank you @dark-scape for the mood board (and sounding board).

CONTENT WARNINGS/NOTES: NSFW 18+ Noncon somnophilia just the tip (don't get too excited) dry humping, vaginal fingering, oral (M receiving), alcohol, reader wears his shirt, excessive dialogue, elvis reference, sex work references, NO HOG BBQ YET SORRY- It took on a life of its own, needed its own part (next Sunday) and I think you'll see why the pacing is better that way.

Tags - This story: @jbcalway @daddy-din @angelmenace @silkiers @axshadows @legs0pen4dilfs @fan-fiction-floozy @grnherbs @icuminurbutt @lokanda @not-a-unique-snowflakewflake89 @likeanimagepassingby2 @witchy-jadda @mxtokko @missannwinchester @cannolighost @anxiousankylosaurus @montenegroisr @97cityy @lillyrob @billyloomiswhore4 @cloudroomblog @boysddontcry @blackvelveteen1339 @twsssmlmaa @call-me-doll-face All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea. @evyiione Lmk if i missed you. Idk why some are buggy.

-

The hotel shampoo and body wash smell like Joel after his shower, which makes you want to take the bottles with you.  After your bath, you lounge on your bed in a towel, air-drying, finishing the movie, and replaying the night in your mind.  Mainly how hot Joel looked between your legs.  You also dwell on the fact that he wouldn’t really kiss you.  Apparently, he won't sleep in the same bed with you either.  It hurts.  Like, it's physically painful.  

You go across the suite to Joel's room for a shirt to sleep in.  His door is cracked open and there's a green flannel folded on top of his luggage.  It’s not weather-appropriate and you wonder if he brought it for you.   He's tucked in, already asleep on his stomach with his shirt off, a massive arm sticking out over the white comforter and another under his pillow.   You drop your towel to put the shirt on – leisurely, hoping he wakes up to the tempting sight – but he's already sleeping soundly.   You've never seen his face so relaxed, but his brow is still somewhat furrowed.  

You sit down on his bed to fasten a couple of buttons.  He doesn't  wake up.  The irony doesn't escape you that you're watching him sleep when he's supposed to be the creep.  Why doesn't he try to fuck you, you wonder.  His words to Chad echo in your mind: If she told her father, you wouldn't be breathing.  But that's obviously different, you think. That was about someone breaking your heart and physically intimidating you.   

-

The hotel bed is tightly made, with the comforter tucked under the mattress on the side Joel isn't using.  You wonder if you could slip inside without waking him up.  You move the pillows out of the way, then slowly, inch by inch, wedge yourself under the sheets. When you're almost settled, he stirs.  He blinks a few times, squints at you, then sighs, "Trouble . . ."  He moves one of his pillows and hugs it, effectively putting something between you.  It stings.  You try to sleep but you end up sniffling.  

He hears you and wakes up again.  "C'mere, damnit," he half-whispers, half-asleep.  His gruff bedroom whisper makes you wet.  He lifts up his arm but doesn't turn on his side or move the pillow.  You rotate the pillow slightly and rest your head on it with his arm over your chest.  You drift off sooner than you expect.  

-

At some point in your sleep, you roll over facing away from him.  You wake up in the fetal position with Joel’s arm draped over you.  Joel has turned onto his side, too.  Your upper back is just barely against his chest.  You scoot your lower body backwards to spoon with him, and your naked ass meets the tip of his cock.  Arousal shoots through you like a bolt of lightning.  It's the first time you've actually had contact with it.  You didn't even realize he was naked. 

At the first contact, his hips instinctively press his cock up against you, sending all the blood in your body to your core.  You stifle a moan, not stopping to wonder why you don't want to wake him up.  You carefully maneuver your ass to nestle his cock between your thighs.  He thrusts in his sleep, gliding firm and wet against your folds, reaching your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. 

You unbutton your shirt then nudge his hand into it. His hand twitches and so does his cock. It pulls back a little and the tip is right at your entrance. Your hips tilt, nestling it there, the top curve of the head resting just inside without truly breaching you.  You could sink onto him right now.  It would be so easy.  But you want him to do it himself.  

You're absolutely throbbing, aching for him.  He pulls back again with a sigh, then his hard tip bypasses your tight, dripping hole and glides to your clit again and you softly moan.  You adjust your chest, wanting the movement of your breast to prompt his hand to cup around it.  But instead of cupping your breast, his hand drifts up your chest.  Then, it wraps loosely around your throat.

His voice is quiet but stern as his cock retreats then slides firmly against your clit with an aggressive thrust.  His hand applies light pressure around your throat.  “What’d I tell ya last night?”  

You remember it well, how you foolishly claimed you weren't gonna fuck him and he replied, oh, I'm not gonna let ya, sugar.  Blood drains from your face and your heart races. You scoff but don't say anything.  Having made his point, his hand goes slack again.  Humiliation drowns out your arousal and you begin to scoot away, but he follows you, effortlessly restraining you with one enormous arm.  

“Calm down," he says into your hair, then half-whispers under your ear, "I’m still gonna take care of ya,” as he palms your breast.  His hard cock nestles against your crack. 

"Lucky me," you say sarcastically and begin to squirm away, but both his arms wrap around you.  In a mocking tone, you parrot, "Take care of me," and add, "you're an actual whore, aren't you?"  A veiny hand slowly works your breast then trails down your torso and digs between your legs.  That’s all it takes for your arousal to return.  

He gathers your ample wetness and uses his middle and ring fingers in a way he must have been perfecting since before you were born.   You gasp and your back arches with tension building rapidly in your core.  His bicep flexes under your neck as his other hand slowly gropes your breasts.  His stiff cock slowly ruts against your ass while he touches you like you've never been touched before.  

He grunts and you gasp on the edge of your climax.  He softly bites your neck, and it sends you.  He sucks your neck as you come.   When your body finishes convulsing into his, his arms loosen and you turn around to face him. 

-

Bedhead is unreasonably sexy on him.   You can't resist. You try to kiss him.  

He fucking dodges you again, going for your neck instead.   "Haven't you seen Pretty woman?" Yeah, the one where a sex worker won’t kiss johns on the mouth because it’s too emotional . . .Joel starts giving you a light hickey.  

"You're evil," you say, pulling away to look at him.  

He smiles wickedly, then it fades.  He opens his mouth to say something but stops short when you reach down and grab his cock.  Your mouth falls open at its hardness and the fact that his hand is already around it. 

He winces at your icy fingers. 

You get up on your knees and straddle his legs, pushing the plush luxury comforter behind you.  You fold at the hips and take a moment to admire his cock in your fist and breathe in his musk.  Your thumb lightly traces a vein, and he exhales with a soft grunt.  You look up and are greeted with a twinkle in his eye and a barely perceptible smirk.  You want to wipe that smirk off his face.  

You quickly succeed by holding eye contact while you wrap your lips around his swollen tip and tongue the slit.  It’s already salty with pre-cum.  He takes a deep breath and his lips part just barely.   He puts another pillow behind his head for a better view. His face falls into a trance.  When you begin to suck, he swallows and his jaw clenches.    His eyes darken. You bob your head on his cock, taking as much of his shaft as you can without gagging, stroking the rest with your hand. 

“Fuck,” he pants.  His quads tense under you and his breathing changes. His hips rock gently into your mouth.  Your eyes water as you keep blowing him.  Then, his hand joins yours.  

“Where ya want it?” he asks somewhat urgently.  What a gentleman. 

You don’t answer, you simply take his hand off his cock and place it on his stomach.  You slow your sucking and relax your tongue.  His hips thrust gently into your mouth and his  hand floats to your head, but you send it back to his stomach again  

“God almighty,” he groans.  “Fuck me.”  It’s a turn-on seeing him so desperate.  

You edge him until you’re ready to see him come. Then, you suck with your whole mouth, your cheeks caving in as you firmly tongue the underside.  Within seconds, his hips lift and stay lifted as he erupts in your mouth with a groan.  His warm load hits the roof of your mouth first, and it’s so many ropes you lose count.  You swallow, then return to the head of the bed. 

-

You put your head on his chest and he strokes your shoulder.  

“You’re the evil one,” he says, and you bask in self-satisfaction for a minute.  “Nah, you’re right.  You don’t wanna believe it, but you’re right.” 

“About what?” 

He sits up and your eyes glue to his inner bicep flexing as he reaches for his phone.  His brow furrows as he reads something then dismisses it.  Then he puts on the song Trouble by Elvis.  He meant you’re right that he’s evil.  

You hold out your arm and say, “I’m cringing so hard I have goosebumps.”  

“Just for that, I’m gonna play DJ allll mornin’,” he says.  He sings along as he walks to the shower, “well I’m evil, so don’t you mess around with me. . .” 

. . .

Before Joel takes you back to your apartment, you have brunch at a restaurant overlooking the riverwalk.  In the absence of other options, you wear your leather pants with the lacy top.  You both get bloody marys. He wears his Ray-Bans and a white t-shirt, jeans as tight as always, and sits back lazily with one elbow over the back of his chair and his knees spread wide.  

Your phone dings with a text from another family friend, Frank, asking if you’re coming home for the Independence Day barbecue, and it gets you thinking.

“Dad’s back this week,” you say to Joel.  You instantly regret it for killing the mood, but it’s the elephant in the room.  “Y’all still gonna barbecue?” 

He takes a sip of his drink, then puts it back down.  He looks at the river and furrows his brow, then his eyes return to you.  “Why wouldn’t we?  You gonna talk to him?”

“I dunno,” you say, not wanting to show your hand, but you’re leaning against snitching any time soon.  

Joel tenses and his nose twitches. “What are you gonna tell’m?”  He rubs one side of his beard.  A waiter approaches from behind, but Joel doesn’t see him.  “Gonna tell’m you climbed into my bed?  Tried to fuck yourself on my cock?"  There’s a bite to his words.  The waiter stops in his tracks and awkwardly tries to pretend he wasn’t coming to your table.  You look at the waiter and shrug and he gulps before nodding at you in acknowledgement.  Joel looks over his shoulder then shakes his head at you and smirks as the waiter walks away. 

Climbed into his bed. . . tried to fuck yourself on his cock. . . It sounds so bad when he puts it that way.  Maybe it was.  Your cheeks burn.

You sigh.  "I wasn't -” 

Joel raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Just the tip," you protest. 

Joel nods thoughtfully. 

“I dunno what I was thinking,” you admit.  You cross your arms and slouch down in your seat. 

"It's never just the tip,"  Joel says. 

"Why didn't you want it?" You ask pathetically 

He sighs.  "Nothin' to do with want.”  He takes a deep breath and leans back.  He looks at the river, exhales, then adds, "Trust me. . .Fuck."  He takes a sip of his bloody mary and looks back at you. 

"What then?”

The way he looks like he’s racking his brain, you wonder if he’s holding back just to drive you crazy.  It certainly has your attention. In fact, you didn’t know how badly you needed to fuck him until last night . . .just minutes after he said he wasn’t going to let you. 

Finally, he says, "It's bad for you, sugar."

“What is? Your evil cock?”

He smirks then shifts uncomfortably in his seat and looks at the river again.  “I dunno what to tell ya. I've seen a lot.  Don't wanna put ya through it.  Shoot, look at your stepmom, she's damn near lost her mind.”

“You're just that good,” you roll your eyes.  You have every reason to believe he is. 

Joel sighs.  “Nothin' to do with good. Shit, I’m not good, I'm just grown."  He takes a sip of his bloody mary.  "Don't you know any hot professors? Take 'em for a spin, you'll see."

You brush it off as his crude way of being modest.  He could probably make bank as an actual gigolo from what you’ve seen. 

"Then what is it?" you wonder.  He gives it some thought.  

"Reckon it’s ‘cause ya can't have me.  No one can. I'm un-have-able."  

“Why don’t you ever settle down?” 

“Shoot, I dunno.  When I was your age, I was already a father.  Maybe I went backwards.”

You nod, appreciative of his effort to give a real answer. 

He continues, “But ya know, monogamy just ain’t right for some people.  Hell, even in a marriage.  You’d be surprised how many are open.” 

“How many what? Marriages?” You suspect his sample is skewed. 

“Yeah. Relationships, marriages.”  He crosses his legs.  “Alright, my turn to ask you somethin’.”

Your heart rate spikes, hoping he won’t revisit the just-the-tip incident.  

“Why'd you stand there and watch that night, hmm?" He cocks an eyebrow.  It’s the first time either of you bring up the moment that started all of this.  Sometimes, when you’re with him, you forget about it entirely. 

You laugh at his audacity, then counter with, "Why'd you stand there and finish?"

"Easy. So I could nut.”  He flashes his eyebrows with a casual smirk, then downs the rest of his drink. 

"You did not just say nut.  God, you're such a boomer."

"Alright, let's get outta here ‘fore we traumatize another waiter."  He throws more than enough cash on the table then stands up and pulls up his jeans.  He puts his hands on his hips and cocks a leg out, looking out over the river while you chug the rest of your drink.

-

When you get in the truck, Joel puts his phone on bluetooth and “Call Me,” the theme to American Gigolo, blasts on.  He’s so lame.  You shake your head at him and he has that subtle Dad joke smirk.  His bicep stretches that t-shirt so nicely. 

Halfway to your apartment, some kind of restricted call pops up and his phone automatically answers it.  You swear it’s your father’s voice on the line that says, “You’re offline.  What’s your 20?”  Joel’s face changes entirely, and something tightens in your chest.  

He scrambles to turn off bluetooth and puts the phone to his ear.  You can still somewhat hear the other end of the line.  

Joel glances at you and says, “Uhhh-”

“We’ve gotta move,” your dad says. 

“It’s broad daylight,” Joel counters. 

“The Bureau tracked down his number two and he’s on the move.” 

Joel seems frustrated.  “Why don’t you get Jesse?”

Your dad says, “He’s comin’ but they’re rollin’ deep.  We need our best shot or it’s gonna be a shitshow.”  Your heart is a mile a minute.

“Dad?” you ask meekly, too nervous to fully commit to asking.

“What was that?” your Dad asks. “Who was that?” You don't say anything else. You feel weak.

Joel glances at you regretfully.  “Damnit, gimme ten and I’ll call you.”

“We gotta move, Miller. I need you back online.”

Joel sighs  “Working on it.  I’ve got cargo, k?” 

There’s a pause on the other end of the line.  "What kind of cargo?”

Joel looks at you again and answers, "precious.”  He hangs up.

Joel hits the steering wheel angrily.  He speeds back toward your apartment, clenching his jaw as his driving intensifies.   You’re shaking.  That was almost certainly your father, and it didn’t sound anything like a military training exercise, or a construction project of Joel’s, for that matter.  

Joel silently fumes.  

“Was that my dad?” you ask with watery eyes.   He takes a deep breath and puffs his cheeks out as he exhales.  Before he can answer, you foolishly let him off the hook with another question.  “Did you just call me cargo?"

“Sorry sugar, no time right now.”  You ride in silence, bracing yourself as he careens around a corner. 

The tears in your eyes threaten to overflow, then one does.  

-

Joel pulls up to your apartment.  He waits with one hand still on the steering wheel for you to get out, but when he looks at you, he sees that big fat tear run down your cheek and his face softens. 

“Aw, shoot,” he says, and unbuckles. “I’m an asshole.”  He gets out and jogs over to the passenger side.  He opens the door for you and you slide out of the chair lazily, numbly, not quite wanting to meet his eyes.  

“Hey,” he says, and tilts your chin up.  Suddenly, it seems like he’s in no hurry at all.  He takes off his Ray-Bans and looks at you like he’s trying to heal you with his eyes.  You finally make eye contact and take a shaky breath, trying not to full-on sob.  His thumb brushes away your tears, then the same hand cradles the back of your head.   You stand there reading each other’s eyes.  Slowly, your head begins to pull like a magnet toward his lips.  You almost feel like his hand is ever so subtly pulling you that way.  You steel yourself for rejection anyway.  But then, Joel’s head drifts toward yours.   

His beard lightly prickles your skin as your lips lock and his free arm wraps around you.  You’re caught off guard, but in less than a second, you don’t care about anything else in the world.  Joel’s tongue parts your lips and you accept it hungrily.  His lips are soft but strong as they suck you into him.  Your mouths are needy for each other.  His hand behind your head pulls you further into him.  You kiss like you’re sharing a last breath of air.  Then, he seals the moment on your upper lip and pulls away.  The whole kiss can’t be more than ten seconds, tops. 

“Gotta go, Trouble.” he whispers, then swallows solemnly, looking down.   “I’m sorry.”  

He jumps in his truck and peels off.  

-

next: part 5

-

thank you all so much for reading and engaging. y'all are the best ILY!!!

[allebasimaianunes]

doce pecado feito mel nos meus lábios.

[smut]

seus lábios eram macios como um novelo de lã, seu cheiro doce embriagava sua mente, como um mel selvagem que melava seus paladar enquanto beijava-lhe o busto liso, um vale de ondas de pele arrepiada que transbordava um calor acolhedor que pulsava o sangue impuro até os campos cavernosos que um dia jurou perante a Deus, castidade.

celibato.

palavra ruidosa, que esticava na língua e pinicava sua moral. porém para padre charlie aquilo não significava tanta coisa – na realidade ele desejava quebrar as antigas estruturas que erguiam as tradições anciãs da igreja que ele congregava.

as mãos firmes deslizavam pelas ondulações do corpo, estava zonzo de tesão e desejo, a respiração quente tocando-lhe o rosto angelical, a forma como ela lamuriava com os olhos fechados e os lábios torcidos de desejos o enlouquecia. seu corpo grande, feito uma fortaleza de ossos duros e músculos forjados por horas e horas de exercícios físicos e uma alimentação impecável, que encaixava tão bem para um ser humano tão vaidoso quanto ele, ergueu as pernas esguias dela para seus ombros, na posição que estava era só penetrar nela, quente e molhada, macia e tão receptiva a ele e desfrutar do prazer eterno.

prazer eterno que perdurava por minutos inconstantes. por que Deus permitiu que um dos maiores prazeres da carne fosse finito? ele se questionava, a mão no pau de veias grossas que circulava todo o sangue até lá, a sensação de topor era grande: como se ele estivesse de cabeça para baixo, o sangue indo todo para a cabeça num instante para logo descer em cascata para o pau. melado, babado, lubrificado. posicionou a cabeça rosada na buceta que o acolhia em um abraço tepido, fixou o olhar para a mulher deitada, rendida a ele, os bicos dos seios apontados para cima, a pele arrepiada, o suor brotando na testa, ela gemendo de tesão e anseio.

ele se curvou encima dela, ainda segurando o pau com a destra, a canhota indo de encontro no queixo dela firmando-o para sua direção. a fez encarar o carvão em brasa de suas íris, pupilas dilatadas quase comendo o céu nublado do olhar, sussurrou, a voz grave retubando no quarto em chamas:

— me diga de quem você pertence.

— você.

saiu em um sussurro fraco. padre charlie riu entredentes, negou com a cabeça, molhou os os lábios, encostou a cabecinha do pau na entradinha da mulher que retorceu debaixo dele. a mão canhota desceu para o pescoço dela e apertou ali. repetiu autoritário:

— repete de novo. quero fuder essa bucetinha sabendo de quem ela é.

— sua! completamente sua charlie! me fode agora porra!

padre charlie riu. um sorriso malicioso. tremeu dos pés às cabeça, assentiu satisfeito com a ansiedade dela, os olhos pidões para ele. tão indefesa e vulnerável feito um cordeirinho que se afastou do seu bando e está na mira de um lobo voraz, sedento por carne fresca.

ele acariciou o rosto dela. seus lábios encontraram com os dela, um beijo casto demais enquanto ele enfiava seu pau dentro dela, numa investida brusca que a fez resfolegar antes de aliviar a tensão.

era tanto prazer que fugia da órbita. o ar era quente, em brasas. o sabor mel dos lábios misturava agora ao sabor agridoce de porra e orgasmo. respiração descontrolada, corpos em sincronia, vai e vêm numa dança lascívia. o desejo queimando cera pelas veias, deslizando em forma de gemidos de seus lábios entreabertos, olhares dengosos e amores surrupiados um pelo outro naquela comunhão herege em busca da plenitude divina do êxtase.

e mais uma vez, no meio dos braços dela, padre charlie mayhew se perdia completamente de si: sua humanidade, virtude, sua santidade se tornavam vãs. pequeninas demais para o grande prazer que o enchia enquanto metia e fodia uma mulher que jurou jamais amar como a amava naquele momento, em sua cama, berço de rezas e choros de arrependimentos. mas ele se arrependia de fazer aquilo?

não.

ele queria mais.

provar do fruto proibido uma vez atrás da outra, até se fartar. cometer o pecado da gula com luxúria de braços abertos feito um jesus cristo na cruz. aceitando sua humanidade como um pecador que no dia seguinte iria se ajoelhar, clamar por clemência e se açoitar até tirar o sangue impuro e imputar a dor do pecado de si mesmo.

tão simples.

[trechos (imagens) do livro “o crime do padre amaro”, eça de queiróz (1875).]

[erensbich]

JAVIER PEÑA in THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE DEAD

[foreverblondie23]

[crocodilesareboring]

provate la pressione a salvini grazie

[thesmartass]

⋆˚✿˖° 𝖙𝖆𝖘𝖐 𝖎. Transcrição da entrevista de Dahlia Dufour-Lapointe ⋆·˚

Dada a urgência de nossa investigação, optamos por entrevistar DAHLIA DUFOUR-LAPOINTE em seu local de descanso na enfermaria. Seus curandeiros pedem que conste nos autos que a changeling, em seu décimo nono ciclo das estações, está sob o efeito de chás e ervas que visam sua recuperação, mas que possuem como efeito a névoa mental e dificuldade na comunicação. Esta é a transcrição da entrevista:

Investigador (a partir de agora representado por Inv neste documento): A senhorita confirma que é Dahlia Dufour-Lapoite, aluna do Instituto Militar de Wülfhere?

[ A entrevistada gruiu, levantando o polegar indicando positivamente. Nota-se que ela tem alguma dificuldade para se mover e falar devido a sequelas do incêndio] 

Inv: Vou entender isso como um sim. De acordo com o seu laudo médico, você sofreu diversas queimaduras de segundo grau. Você confirma isso?

Dahlia Dufour-Lapoite (a partir de agora representada por DDL neste documento): Você precisa do meu laudo para chegar a essa conclusão? Por Erianwood, os culpados disso não vão ser pegos nunca! É claro que eu sofri queimaduras… [a entrevistada tem uma crise de tosse no meio de sua resposta e parece alterada pelo rumo das perguntas] 

Inv: Consta aqui que você foi encontrada por Kyrell Vortirgen em uma torre afastada do castelo, qual o motivo para isso? Por que estava naquele local nesse horário específico? Você tinha algum plano?

DDL: Eu estava terminando minha anotaç��o no diário, como faço todas as noites. Ai, ai comecei a ouvir uma gritaria, o que não era comum, então… tinha tanta fumaça… eu pensei, eu pensei nos meus livros. Tive tanto trabalho traduzindo eles, eu preciso salvar o meu trabalho. Meus manuscritos!!!! [DDL parece agitada ao recordar dos eventos da fatídica noite. Sua maior preocupação sendo livros perdidos???]

Int: Está tudo bem senhorita, os livros e cadernos que estavam em sua posse parecem ter sido recuperados com dano mínimo e estão catalogados junto com nossas evidencias, você os terá de volta assim que possivel. Agora me diga, você notou algo incomum no dia do incendio? Ou algum comportamento estranho de outras pessoas no castelo de Wülfhere?

DDL: [Parece mais aliviada ao ouvir que seus livros estão seguros. Mas balança a cabeça negativamente como resposta] Eu, eu não vi ninguém. O dia inteiro estava tentando decifrar esse texto que encontrei no dia anterior, era antigo, bem complicado de traduzir, porque não conhecia o idioma direito e o pergaminho estava desgastado. Era isso que eu queria salvar, você tem certeza que nada foi perdido? Posso pelo menos ver eles? 

Int: Infelizmente não podemos retirar as evidências de onde são mantidas, estamos quebrando o protocolo fazendo essa entrevista aqui, peço que entenda. Agora, você notou algum dragão agindo estranho no dia do incêndio?

DDL: Não, eles não fariam algo assim. Wülfhere é tão lar dos dragões quanto é nosso, você atearia fogo em sua própria casa voluntariamente, senhor? 

[O investigador parece desconfortável com a pergunta. Dahlia Dufour-Lapointe começa a dar sinais de exaustão e não parece disposta a cooperar com a investigação.]

Inv: Vou fazer apenas mais uma pergunta em consideração ao seu estado de saúde, tudo bem? Na sua opinião, quem estaria mais interessado no desaparecimento do Cálice dos Sonhos e na interrupção do acesso ao Sonhār?

DDL: Como assim o desaparecimento do Cálice dos Sonhos? Nós não temos mais acesso ao Sonhār? Você está mentindo! Diga para mim que está mentindo! 

[A entrevistada perdeu o controle de suas emoções e começou a se debater em sua maca, curandeiros interromperam a sessão de perguntas expulsando o investigador e seu assistente da ala médica. O investigador sustenta ferimentos nos braços e rosto devido ao surto da paciente. Ela se tornou uma suspeita em potencial e será submetida a uma investigação mais profunda.] 

Nota extra da transcritor deletadas do documento oficial: As garras da changeling fizeram um estrago no Jorge e ele tirou uma licença de três dias "pra se recuperar"

[ross-nekochan]

Oggi ho beccato vicino l'ascensore il signore italiano dell'azienda in cui lavoro.

Io: buonsalve

Lui: ehilà! Madonna quest'app della Suica (carta prepagata per i treni, ndr)... sti giapponesi ste app non le sanno proprio fare

Io: ma comeee! Tecnologia così avanzata!!1!

Lui: eh sì, avanzata... fammi un fax che ti rispondo!

[originalempathplaidfreak]

"Se mi perdo”

“Se mi perdo,

tieni un capo del filo

e, con l’altro capo in mano,

io correrò nel mondo.

E se dovessi perdermi, tu tira.”

Margaret Mazzantini

[nonsolohaiku]

Come un uragano mi hai travolta e strappata da un miraggio che inseguivo.

Come un fiume in piena mi hai stretta e trasportata verso acque calme, più grandi e profonde. Dove lo sguardo si perde e si fonde con l'orizzonte.

Sei mare e sei oceano. Sei sogno e sei reale.

... E in te, io mi perdo

[toxicanonymity]

The Contractor. Silence can never be bought, only rented (pt. 6 of 6)

4k / dbf!Joel x f!Reader / pt 1 / master list

STORY MASTER LIST

Warnings/Notes: I8+ some angst, dry (wet?) humping, unsafe PIV SEX (!), legal age gap. Acronyms - RICO is about organized crime. barely edited.

It’s so close.  It’s finally here. His hand slides under your shirt, runs over your back then pulls you closer. He feels so good, it’s like a dream.  But the more you wake up, the more your thoughts creep in.  You want the truth.  You pry your lips away from his, and right away, he latches onto your neck.  “What did my Dad want?” you ask. Between kisses, he murmurs, “don’t worry about it.”

Joel shows you his phone and your dad is at the gate.  He thinks in silence for a moment. 

“Well, we’re not doing anything,” you offer, but your heart is pounding.  “Don’t let him in.”

“I’ve gotta let him in.  What’s he gonna think if I don’t?”

He rubs his beard and opens his home automation app.  “You’re in the pool house,” he decides.  He turns on a dim light in the pool house.  

“What does he want?” you ask.  

“Hell if I know.  Go through the basement.” 

“No way.” 

“Come on, Trouble.” 

“I’m not going through the tunnel alone.” 

He seems endeared by your fear.  “Do it for us,”  he says with a wink that makes your heart jump.  Then he gets up to take the drinks to the sink. 

“Wait,” you say. 

He freezes. 

“What were you gonna say? Now that I know . . . ?”

“Now that you know, I don’t have to worry about you finding out later and being mad.”

You kind of doubt that’s what he was going to say.  “I’m mad anyway,” you say. 

“Figured.  It’s okay.”

A car door opens and closes.  

“Go,” he whispers. “I’ll come get you when he’s gone.” 

You make it to the pantry stairs just in time.  

-

When your dad comes in, Joel says, “Welcome back.” 

Your dad asks, “Where’s my girl?”  

“Sleepin’ it off in the pool house, I reckon.  Didn’t want her to drive.” 

There’s a long pause and your heart races. 

Your dad says, “Good, good. . .thanks.” 

Damn, Joel is smooth.  He asks your dad, “Somethin’ you didn’t wanna call about?”

“Yeah. . .” 

You’re tempted to stay and hear more, but you’re also afraid of what you might hear.  You creep down the stairs quietly.  You think about going to the theater instead and waiting in one of those recliners.  It’s silly, but you really don’t want to go underground to the pool house.  The tunnel is climate controlled and has automatic lights, but it’s still spooky without windows.  

-

You’re standing near the tunnel entrance trying to work up your nerve when you hear raised voices, and now you can’t resist.  You quietly make your way back toward the stairs to listen.  If no one is going to tell you what’s going on, this is your chance to find out.  It occurs to you there’s no reason for you to go all the way to the pool house except that Joel doesn't want you to hear this.  Otherwise, you could have hidden anywhere and your dad would be none the wiser. 

A cabinet slams shut and Joel demands,  “How many aren’t you tellin’ me about?”

“Not tellin’ you? I just found out!  I’m not in charge, you know that.”  Glasses clink with ice. 

“North of the fuckin’ border again. God damnit,” Joel says. He’s even more heated than he was in the car the other day. 

Your dad asks, “What do I have to do to get you all in on this? Let’s get it done and be done with it.”

“You know what I want.  I want out.”

“You’ll be out.” 

“I want it in writing.” 

Your dad scoffs.  “You want a paper trail now? When the whole point was to keep your charges off paper?” 

“Not the charges, damnit.”

“Then what do you want in writing? You made some bad guys go away in exchange for evidence going away, now we’re square?” 

“It was supposed to be a six month contract.  Here we are, how many renewals later? And I’m still consulting.”  You can picture the air quotes with the way he says it.  

“Still better than 20 years for RICO,” your dad says. 

“Never woulda gotten the max. . . You know what? At least the wiseguys have a code.”

Your dad sharpens his tone.  “Ever wonder what happened to that evidence?”

“FUCK”  A glass shatters. “I’m never gettin’ out. Just say it.”

“This is the last-” 

“Don’t string me along with this one last job bullshit, then the job’s a whole fuckin’ cartel.  Call it what it is.  I’m an asset.  Not a contractor if I don’t got a fuckin’ choice.”

“You’re gonna be out.” 

“You won’t even give me your word.”

“Joel, you have my word.”

“Alright,”  Joel calms down a little.  “And what about you?  You ever think about your daughter in all this? You want her on tiktok seein’ your head roll off one day ‘cause you couldn’t take the loss and retire?”  

“Don’t talk about my daughter.”

There’s a moment of silence, then your dad continues. 

“We’re on the same team, buddy.  I want this over as bad as you do.  C’mon, let’s look at the intel.” 

You’re sick to your stomach.  Whatever this is sounds like it’s about your dad’s ego. What’s new. You shrink back to the tunnel and jog through it so it’s over fast.  

-

You’re laying on the couch in the pool house, and you don’t even want to think about what you just heard.  So you’re replaying the earlier conversation in your head.  The one about your stepmother and  . . . gross.  Something doesn’t sit right about it.  You’re trying to figure out why Joel would have felt guilty for you blackmailing him into sex. 

It hits you that the only reason he’d feel guilty is if it were his doing. . . If he realized you thought you had leverage and saw an opportunity.  Deprive you, make you want it that bad, see if you’d try to twist his arm into it.  And once you got there, game over?  Was he just getting off on having the power all along? Then you ask yourself the real question.  If that’s the case . . . do you wish none of it ever happened?  It’s an easy no.  

So you put that to rest and can’t help but think about what you overheard between Joel and your dad. You want to know how this all happened, but from the way Joel was talking about heads rolling off,  you’re most worried about what he and your dad are up to right now.  You want to hear it from Joel.  You want to know what his real job is.  The truth might be the only thing you want more than to fuck him.  And if he won’t tell you the truth, maybe he doesn’t deserve the latter. 

You’re exhausted from being in the sun all day.  There’s a big, heavy blanket – silky, not exactly cozy.  It’s like a rich guy blanket, probably put there by an interior decorator.  You curl up on the oversized couch and pull it over you.  There’s a bedroom, but you don’t expect this to take as long as it does, so you don’t get in bed.  You stay on the couch.  It feels like Joel is taking forever, but you’re too tired to even look at the time. You take off your shorts and bra, swaddle yourself in the blanket, and drift off. 

-

You don’t hear Joel come in or take off his pants or put his stuff on the table.  You feel cold for a moment when he lifts the blanket, but then he gets under it with you and takes you into his arms, and he’s warm.   

You stir, and Joel whispers, “You wanna get in bed?”  

You shake your head no.  

“It’s right there . . .”

“No,” you manage weakly.  You’re not remembering any of the drama at the moment, just enjoying being in his arms and too sleepy to move.  

“Ok,” he whispers, and kisses you on the head.  You fall back asleep with your head in the crook of his neck. 

. . . 

In the middle of the night, you wake up in his arms with one of his legs hooked over both of yours and his boxers pressed against your panties, which are soaked with arousal, you can feel it.  He’s only somewhat hard, but it’s enough to make you need it, bad.  He smells freshly showered but you can still catch a hint of his sweat, which makes you need it worse.  Your nose brushes his beard as you look up at his face. 

He blinks awake with sleepy eyes.  He presses his lips into yours for a long kiss that starts light, affectionate, closed-mouth, then becomes desperate, invasive. You accept his tongue greedily. He hardens right against your crotch.  His hips roll into yours, and before long, he’s rock hard, and you softly moan “mmm” into his mouth.  

He whispers, “Are you on-” 

“Yeah,” you cut him off.  Then he covers your mouth with his lips again.  Yeah, you’re on birth control, and the question makes you throb as he kisses you.  It’s so close.  It’s finally here. It’s grinding into you right now.  His hand slides under your shirt and runs over your bare back, pulling you closer against him, and he moans softly.  He feels so good, it’s like a dream.  

But the more you wake up, the more your thoughts creep in.  You really, really want the truth.  It dawns on you this might be your best shot at getting it. 

You pry your lips away from his, and right away he latches onto your neck.  

“What did my Dad want?” you ask him. 

Between kisses on your neck, he murmurs, “don’t worry about it.”  

“Tell me what’s going on,” you demand.  

He rolls his arousal into your clit and you bite your lip to suppress a moan while you wait for his answer. 

 “Not now, sugar. . .”

He lifts your shirt swiftly but smoothly and palms a breast, then is hard-on drags down your thigh and you feel a damp spot on his boxers. He takes your nipple into his mouth while he pulls your shirt off, and you help him, despite your reservations.  You need the truth, but you’re aching.  Your body needs to be filled by his. 

“Not now. . . so, when?” you ask. 

“When I’m back,” he sighs.  

“Back from what?”

He doesn’t answer.  He lightly drags his lips over the top curve of your breast, over your shoulder, up your throat, your jaw, to your ear.  

-

His boxers find your drenched panties again and press against you in just the right place.   He’s so stiff, it takes your breath away, and a soft moan falls out of your mouth.  He whispers, “This is all that matters,” and you want him to be right so bad.  He nibbles then sucks your neck right under your ear. He grinds his rock-hard member into you in a slow rhythm at just the right angle.

“This,” he says, looking from your eyes to your mouth and back.  He wraps his arms around you, grinding into you rhythmically.  He kisses you again, and his tongue erases whatever words were on yours.  Blood rushes to your lips with the gentle suction of his own. With his face still on yours, he slowly, carefully takes his boxers off under the blanket. 

You slide your hand down his abdomen and your breath hitches as you graze the light padding of his lower stomach.  You find that small, circular scar and gently caress it.  He flinches, then moves your hand to his cock.  It sends a  bolt of need to your aching clit, but you still have to ask. 

“What’s it from?”

“C’mere,” he says, and latches onto your mouth again as he thrusts into your hand.  

You want his lips on yours forever.  You want nothing more than to just give in and fuck him.  You push yourself up with your arm and he rolls onto his back.  You shrug off the blanket.  He watches you in a trance as you straddle him with his cock still in  your hand.  You thumb his scar again and he says, “you know I served.”  Right.  Of course.  

His stomach rises and falls, and his head tilts slightly as he watches you nestle his naked cock at your drenched, silky underwear, right against your clit.  You roll your hips into him and moan at the friction. 

“Let’s lose these, sugar,” he pants. He hooks his fingers into your underwear and you lift each leg to slowly slip out of them.  

-

You settle back in, then close your eyes, tilt your hips, and use him to pleasure yourself.  You drag along his cock, from your clit to your dripping entrance and back, making his manhood shine with you, and he groans.  Then you lay your hips onto his again and his hips rock against you, with his unfathomably hard cock gliding firmly against your slick.  

He moans and breathes heavily.  “I gotta be inside you, sugar,“ he says as he grinds into you rhythmically.  

“I’ve gotta know the truth,” you reply, but it physically pains you.  

He groans.  “Fuck,” he pants. “What do you wanna know?”

“What you’re up to,” you say as you use your hips to massage yourself with his stiff manhood.  

He takes a deep breath.  “It’s complicated,” he says, and you inwardly acknowledge he’s probably right.  You stop moving and start to back yourself down his thighs.  You bend at the hip and hover over his cock. 

“Are you still in construction?” You stroke him slowly.  

“Still own the business.”  He adjusts his hips under you.  

“But that’s not all you do.”  You bring it almost to your mouth and take a deep whiff of his musk which makes you twitch with need. 

“No,” he quietly admits. 

You think about how to simplify this and get it over with.  You throw caution to the wind and ask,  “Do you kill people?” You thumb the precum beading at his tip.  No immediate answer.  Then, you take his salty tip into your mouth for just a kiss and he groans.  You take it out.

He sighs.  “You really wanna know?” He thrusts into your hand.

You give it another kiss. “Yeah.” 

You slowly crawl back up his body and lay half on him and he rolls toward you so you’re on your side like before.  You hook your top leg over him.  You search his eyes for an answer, but he looks down at your bodies instead.  His large hand engulfs your ass cheek, caresses it with his palm, then gives it a firm squeeze and pulls you hard against him, and your wet pussy meets his stiff cock again.  

“What do you think?” He asks quietly, then buries his nose in your neck and whispers, “Cause you’re prolly right.”  Your heart skips a beat.  You wanted more, but at the same time, it feels like he just told you everything he has to tell - or that’s what you’re trying to believe, for your body’s sake.  You don’t feel anything about what he just said. All you feel is him, and that’s all you want.  

-

He groans as he grinds into you, and his neck vein bulges. He rolls his arousal harder against your slick seam and kisses your neck. “Come on, sugar,” he says.  

You open your mouth but don’t have any words, you can only breathe.  He ruts against you again and you close your eyes with a moan.  You’re throbbing, physically aching, swollen with need, dying to have him.  

“Gotta be inside you now baby,” Joel repeats, smooth and low.  He thrusts hard against your clit, slow, but so hard.  His mouth devours yours, and your nipples harden against his broad chest.  When his stiff member drags back down your clit, he hesitates at your entrance, then puts his hand on your ass, and the tip of his cock is caught by a tilt of your hips.  Tension swells and tightens deep within you. 

He begins to slowly push the firm head of his cock into your tight, wet hole and reads your face.   You have to remind yourself to breathe. Your brow furrows.  You bite your lip and inhale through your nose.  You both adjust your hips so the angle is just right.  He pushes a little more, and the stretch of his girth makes your whole body dizzy and desperate for more.  He pauses and you just barely nod. 

The arm under you pulls you closer with his hand flat on your back while his other hand braces on your leg that’s hooked over him.  Then he pushes his stiff length into you with a grunt that becomes a loud sigh, and you gasp as his thick cock makes room for itself inside you.  He pauses when he’s mostly in, and you look into each other’s eyes.  

“Now fuck me,” you whisper.  

“Yes ma’am,” he growls.  He backs out all but the tip, then plunges into you completely.  Your mouth falls open with a moan as your bodies are finally joined and he bottoms out with a shudder.  

His lips latch onto yours as he retreats, then slams into you again with a grunt.  He buries himself in you, slow and hard, each time somehow better than the last.  Your hips roll into him, and together, you gradually up the tempo.  You kiss sloppily, half your mouths breathing heavily and vocalizing against each other’s cheek. Each exhale is a moan.

His hips roll fluidly against yours and his whole body tells you how bad he’s been wanting this. Every time he fills you up, you could cry from how good it feels.  He opens his mouth wide and puts it on your neck again, gently sucking your delicate skin into his mouth.  He grabs hold of your ass and uses the arm under you to gently put you on your back without fully pulling out.  Your legs wrap around him and he sheathes himself entirely once again.  

You hook your fingers under the bottom hem of his t-shirt and pull it over his head.  He takes in the view of your whole body again before he leans back down.  

“You look so goddamn hot,” he says, looking down at you, thrusting into you. He looks hot, too.  

The moonlight reveals a faint farmer’s tan from the barbecue.  His pecs and triceps are pumped up and flexing as he moves in rhythm.  His hair is messy and perfect.  The silver bits of his beard glisten. 

He leaves space between you and reaches down to thumb your clit, almost putting you over the edge, but you quickly take his hand and pull his body back into yours.  

“About to come?” he asks.  You nod and take a deep breath.  He thrusts into you hard then slowly rocks his hips deep inside you with his neatly trimmed hair grinding into your clit.  The tension bursts inside you and you groan his name as a massive wave of pleasure overwhelms you.  Then another.  You clench around him and your body jerks erratically.  Your nipples go almost painfully hard and drag against him.  

He pushes deeper than you thought possible, balls tightening against your ass, and you gasp and moan. Then he grunts, pulses inside you, and his whole body shudders as you milk his cock.  You keep pulsing as he fills you up with his seed. Your whole body is drunk with him.  When you’re both finished coming, he looks at you, and himself, then you again as he catches his breath.  He strokes your face and says, “god damn.” 

You almost forget you’re two different bodies until he slides out of you, leaving a void your insides try to fill. He lays on his side and takes you in his arms again.  

-

He looks so peaceful.  At the moment, you don’t care if you still don't know what’s going on.  You don’t even care if he manipulated you into wanting this so desperately.  All you care about is whether this is going to happen again, and you’re terrified of finding out it’s not.  You start to worry about him going to do this job. 

After a long silence, you say,  “You don’t wanna do it, do you?”

“Do what?” 

“Whatever you have to go and do.”

The peace evaporates from his face.  He sighs.  “No. . . No, I don’t, sugar.”  He rubs his temples with the thumb and pinky of one massive hand.  

“Then why do it?”

“No choice,” he says. 

“That’s messed up,” you say.  “I mean, not having a choice.”

“Yeah, well, it was my own dumb ass.  Thought I was gettin’ outta somethin’ worse.  Didn’t know what I was gettin’ into.” 

“How do you get out of it now?”

“Finish the job, call it a day, see what happens.” 

“Really?”

“It’s been a long time comin’.” 

A couple seconds after he says it, a little smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.  He doesn’t have to make the joke out loud.  You playfully pinch his cheek. 

“Worth the wait?” he asks with a smirk.  

You shrug, and he says, “I’ll take it.” You can feel your whole face and body glowing.  You don’t need to spell it out.

-

You get pensive thinking about why now, why tonight.  “You weren’t just pissed at my dad, were you?”

He chuckles, then almost seems to panic when he sees you’re serious. “God, no, Trouble. . . “   His heart rate visibly quickens on his neck.  He didn’t even have to ask you what you meant.  He wraps his arms tight around you and kisses your head.  

“So whatever happened to ‘not tonight’?” you ask. 

“Couldn’t help it,” he says.  “Neither could you.”  Well, that’s true.  “Plus, now I don't have to worry ‘bout you findin’ out you didn’t blackmail me.  That woulda broken your sick little heart.”

“Maybe,” you say, still a little paranoid, but you push the thoughts away.  

“I don’t think your dad needs to know about this,” he says.  “That woulda been a sick serve though if I was mad at him,” he chuckles.

“Did you just say sick serve. . . “

“Sick serve,” he whispers in your ear.

“I don’t think that means what you– where do you pick this stuff up, anyway?” 

“Prolly Jesse, he never shuts up.”

“So, Jesse’s-”

Joel puts his thumb on your lips.  “Said too much already,” he says. “ You gotta keep it to yourself, okay?”  You give his thumb a little bite before he takes it away. 

It’s funny, you never had anything over him before, but now you kinda do.  Not that you’ll do anything with it.  Too dangerous. 

“Yeah,” you say.  

After a long silence, you ask, “What are you gonna do when it’s over?”

He sighs and adjusts his arms around you.  “This right here,” he says.  “If you want.”  

You fall asleep in his arms again. 

-

When you wake up, he’s gone.  It’s light outside.  Birds are chirping.  You have a text from him that says “Stay here if you want. Back in a couple days.”   You don’t stay there.  It’s too creepy without him.  You go back to your apartment, but you worry about him a lot and check your phone constantly.  A few days later, you get off work, and when you walk out of the bookstore, he’s parked there, leaning against his truck, ankles crossed, wearing Ray Bans and a t-shirt, jeans as tight as ever, arms tucked under his massive biceps.  

“Here comes trouble” he says as he pushes himself off his truck.  He puts his hands on his hips and lets his pants adjust as he pops out one knee.   

Your lips meet as he wraps his arms around you.  

“All done?” you ask.   

“Let’s celebrate,” he says.  “Got that same suite on the river.  Booked it for the rest of the month, so I reckon I’ll be around.”  

-

Thank you for reading and engaging with this story for all six parts, y'all have been so awesome!

FWIW I see this as a happy ending with ominous undertones lol. I think I will come back to these two in the future (assuming there's still interest now that they've fucked). That's why I didn't blow my whole load in over explaining the subplot in this part. I initially included the sub plot so there would be an interesting basis to come back to them after the main story.

I just started another (darker) dad's best friend story: Left in Lincoln. In addition to smut it's also slow burn horror but no gore. Heed warnings. . .

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