pretty lovely fic rec blog

The shower had been running long enough for you to read the same paragraph three times.

Joel had claimed the heat might help his hand, although the doctor had prescribed ice, elevation and several days without gripping anything. The X-ray had shown no fracture. Joel had treated that information like permission to ignore the rest, trying to open the truck door with his injured hand before you had even left urgent care. By dinner, the bruising had spread in deep violet shadows across his knuckles, and you had needed soap to ease his wedding band over the swelling.

That had bothered him more than the pain.

He had watched you work the ring slowly over his knuckle, his mouth set in a hard line, and when it finally slipped free into your palm, his thumb had rubbed once over the pale indentation it left behind.

“Only for a few days, honey,” you had told him.

“I know, I know.”

But he continued staring at his empty finger until you placed the band on the bedside table beside your own things, safely within view.

You opened his painkillers, replaced his bandage and left him to shower while you climbed into bed with your book. But the water continued to run and you had retained nothing from the page before you.

You closed the book.

“Joel?”

No answer.

You glanced at the clock, set the book aside and crossed the bedroom.

Steam rolled through the bathroom when you opened the door. His discarded bandage lay damp beside the sink, his clothes gathered in a careless heap near the hamper. The mirror had fogged completely, but through the glass of the shower you could make out the broad, blurred shape of him standing beneath the water.

“Joel?” you called again.

No answer came, though beneath the steady rush you heard the faint scrape of skin against tile, followed by a low curse that was unmistakably his.

You undressed and stepped inside quietly, drawing a breath when the hot water struck your shoulder.

Joel stood with his back to you.

He had his head bowed and his right arm braced against the wall from elbow to wrist, protecting the swollen hand from bearing his weight. Even in the softened light, you could see the mottled bruising across his knuckles, his fingers held stiff and slightly apart. His left palm rested lower on the tile. His broad shoulders were drawn tight, every muscle along his back rigid beneath the water as it streamed through the silver beginning to thread the dark curls at the nape of his neck. It followed the shallow groove of his spine, split around the soft fullness above his hips and disappeared between his legs.

For several seconds, you simply watched him.

His left arm moved, but the motion lacked the steady, practiced rhythm you knew, his fist travelling over his cock with an awkwardness that seemed to frustrate him more each time. He adjusted his grip, tried again and shifted his hips forward, chasing a sensation his other hand could not quite give him. His shoulders tightened. A harsher curse slipped from him when his injured fingers flexed instinctively against the tile.

The sight sent heat through you with such sudden force that your breath caught.

Joel touching himself would always affect you—the thick length of him flushed dark in his fist, water shining over the soft curve of his stomach and the wet hair beneath his navel—but it was the vulnerability of the moment that drew you closer. This was the man who noticed when your shoulders hurt before you complained, who left water on your bedside table every night because you always woke thirsty, who could read the smallest change in your breathing beneath his hands and know whether you needed more, less, faster, slower. He had spent years learning every language your body spoke.

Yet he stood alone beneath the water, unable to give himself what he needed, too proud to call for you and too stubborn to stop trying.

You stepped closer without speaking.

He was so absorbed in the effort that he did not hear the shower door close behind you. He did not notice the water shift when your body interrupted its path or the quiet whisper of your bare feet against the tile. It was only when you placed your mouth between his shoulder blades, lips pressing softly to the center of his wet back, that his entire body jolted.

“Jesus!”

His head turned sharply. Pain flashed across his face when his injured fingers contracted against the wall, and he forced them open again with a hiss.

“Didn’t hear you, darlin’.”

“I noticed, baby.”

Your lips moved over his back once more, slower this time. Water ran between your mouth and his skin, tasting faintly of soap. Up close, the heat of him felt different from the heat surrounding you, deeper and alive, held taut beneath skin that shivered when you kissed the raised ridge of an old scar near his shoulder.

“What’re you doin’ in here?” he asked.

“Checking on my handsome husband.”

You rested your chin against him and looked down the length of his body. His left hand had gone still, the grip around himself loosening now that he knew you were watching. Embarrassment was not something Joel wore easily; on him, it appeared as a stubborn tilt of his chin and a refusal to look directly at you.

“Looks like I was right to worry.”

“Ain’t anythin’ to worry about.”

“You’ve been in here twenty minutes.”

“Lost track.”

“That so?”

Your palms settled at his waist and moved around him, spreading over the curve of his belly. He had grown softer through the middle over the years, his body shaped by long workdays, evening beers and all the second helpings he accepted after insisting he was full. You loved the weight of him, the solid breadth of his chest, the coarse hair flattened beneath your fingers. You loved the familiar scars and the places age had begun touching him. You loved that you could stand behind him with your eyes closed and know precisely where your hands rested.

“Seems like you’re hurting yourself because you’d rather wrestle with the wrong hand than call your wife,” you murmured.

“Wasn’t hurtin’ myself, sweetheart.”

“No?”

Your nails travelled upward through the hair on his stomach before descending again, leaving pale trails across his flushed skin. Joel’s breath changed when your fingertips passed beneath his navel.

“That hand doesn’t seem to be accomplishing much either.”

His jaw tightened, but his hips shifted subtly into his fist.

You closed the remaining distance between you and pressed your naked body to his back. The instant your breasts touched him, his breath caught. Your mouth found the side of his neck while one hand remained spread over his stomach and the other followed the dark line beneath his navel.

“Couldn’t get it right?” you asked softly.

“Left hand don’t feel like mine.”

There was so much quiet frustration in the admission that your teasing softened.

“You could’ve called me.”

“Didn’t wanna bother you, baby.”

You lifted your head. “Joel Miller, I don’t care if I’m reading, sleeping or halfway through the best dream of my life. Asking me to touch you is never going to bother me.”

“Ain’t exactly somethin’ you should have to—”

“No.” You kissed the back of his shoulder as your hand slipped lower, fingertips barely grazing the coarse hair at the base of his cock. “You take care of me so often that half the time I don’t notice you’re doing it until it’s already done. So let me have my turn.”

The rigid set of his shoulders loosened by a fraction.

His left hand opened around himself, although surrendering even that unsatisfying contact made his hips follow your hovering fingers.

“Need a hand, don’t you, cowboy?” you teased, catching the edge of his ear gently between your teeth.

A strained breath left him, somewhere between a groan and a protest.

“You gonna help or keep makin’ fun of me?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” You clicked your tongue. “You do look awfully pretty struggling, baby.”

“Christ, woman.”

“Although…” Your hand settled over his left wrist and guided it away from his cock. He allowed you to place his palm on the tile, but his body remained tense, caught somewhere between wanting what you offered and resisting the act of receiving it. “I suppose I could lend my favorite cowboy a hand. If he asks nicely.”

Joel lowered his forehead to the wall.

Water slipped through the grey in his beard and fell from his jaw. Pride held him silent for another moment. You could almost feel the struggle taking place inside him—the same man who would carry too many grocery bags rather than make a second trip, who would work through a fever and insist he was only tired, who treated being needed as though it were the simplest form of love but had never learned how to need someone without apology.

You spread your palm over his bare ring finger.

The touch made him look down.

His gaze rested on your hand covering his, your wedding band shining through the water while his finger remained pale and empty beneath it. His thumb moved once against the tile, reaching for yours before remembering the awkward angle.

Then his weight shifted back into you.

“Need you,” he admitted quietly.

You waited with your lips resting against his shoulder, though the answer had already travelled through you. Joel asked for so little that sometimes you resented him for it. He would mention that his boots needed replacing only after the soles had begun admitting water, would say he was hungry once you had already placed a plate before him, would carry an ache for days until you noticed the careful way he avoided turning his neck. Even now, naked and hard between your arms, he had tried to make the request smaller than it was. Need you. Two words offered in place of everything his body had already confessed, as though wanting something from you was still harder than enduring without it.

His breath left him slowly. His empty ring finger shifted beneath your palm. When you still did not move, his hips pressed back against you before rolling forward, his cock brushing heavily against the hand you kept just beyond his reach.

“Please,” he said, whatever remained of his pride finally yielding to the need roughening his voice. “Put your hand on my cock. Stroke me. Been tryin’ to come for so goddamn long, and I can’t—I need you to do it for me.”

Joel had trusted you with his home, his daughter, the parts of his past he still struggled to name. He had stood before everyone you loved and placed a ring on your finger with hands that had trembled more than his voice. Yet this small surrender seemed to cost him something too.

You kissed the pale place where his wedding band belonged.

“Good boy.”

Joel went utterly still.

His breathing stopped for one suspended second, his stomach turning rigid beneath your forearm and his left palm pressing flat against the tile. His cock pulsed before you had even closed your fingers around him.

Slowly, he looked back at you.

Steam had gathered in his lashes. His dark eyes found yours over his shoulder, surprise exposed there before he could conceal it, followed by a heat so immediate that your thighs drew together behind him. A flush travelled higher along his throat. He appeared almost offended by the force of his own reaction, as though his body had answered you before his pride could intervene.

“What’d you call me?”

“You heard me, baby.”

His gaze dropped to your mouth. “Say it again.”

A smile touched your lips, but you did not laugh at him. There was something too open in his expression, too uncertain beneath the want.

“Later,” you promised. “Face the wall and lean back against me. Let your wife take care of you, big boy.”

Joel held your gaze for another moment before looking forward again. His forehead settled against the tile as his shoulders gradually loosened beneath your arms. He moved back until the curve of his ass pressed firmly against your lower stomach, giving you more of his weight than before.

You kissed the center of his back and slid your right hand down.

This time, you did not stop.

Your fingers curled around the base of his cock, and Joel’s entire body answered.

His abdomen contracted beneath your forearm. His left palm slipped before flattening against the wall again. A sound left him—low, involuntary, pulled from somewhere beneath the frustration he had carried into the shower—and the thick length of him hardened further in your grip.

You held him without moving at first, letting him feel the fit of your hand around him although your fingers could not quite meet. Heat pulsed beneath the slick skin, his heartbeat fast and heavy against your palm. You adjusted the showerhead until the strongest part of the spray struck his back rather than your joined hands, then tightened your grip. Another broken breath warmed your cheek.

“There,” you murmured. “Better?”

“Fuck, yes—”

“I thought so.” You stroked him slowly from base to tip, watching his stomach pull tight beneath your arm. “Next time you need my hand around your cock, come put it there.”

Joel’s hips followed your fist as it descended. “Knew you’d enjoy this.”

“You knew correctly.”

Your thumb swept over the broad head before your fist travelled down again. At the base, you loosened your grip and slipped your free hand beneath him. Joel groaned when your palm cupped his balls, the swollen, heavy weight of them filling your hand while the other continued moving slowly along his cock.

“Oh, baby...” You rolled them gently beneath your fingers, and his hips pressed forward as though even that small touch had reached somewhere deeper than he expected. “No wonder you were getting so frustrated. These are awfully full.”

“Don’t start.”

The words lacked any real warning. They came roughened by the careful twist of your wrist, Joel’s breath catching when you tightened your fist beneath the head. You smiled against his shoulder and gave him another long stroke, refusing the faster pace his body was beginning to seek.

“I’ve already started.” Your lips followed a rivulet of water toward the sensitive place behind his ear. “You should’ve seen yourself, hiding in here with all of this aching for relief.”

“Enjoyin’ yourself?”

“Very much.” You squeezed the weight in your palm once more, tender enough to make his thighs tense. “I’ve got my handsome husband naked in my arms, getting harder every time I tease him. I can feel how badly he needs to come, and he’s making the prettiest noises while I take my time giving him exactly what he asked for.” Your thumb gathered the slickness from the tip and spread it beneath the head. “What’s not to enjoy?”

“Mean woman.”

The complaint dissolved into a groan when your fingers tightened around him. His hips followed your hand instinctively, cock sliding through your wet fist while you maintained the slow rhythm already wearing away his restraint.

“Mm. And you love me.”

“Yeah.” His answer came without hesitation, broken slightly by the next stroke. “More than anythin’.”

The words entered you with the familiar weight of truth. Joel could spend ten uninterrupted minutes complaining about traffic, Tommy or the price of lumber, but anything that mattered was pared down until only its simplest form remained. More than anythin’ was extravagance from a man like him, offered with his forehead resting against the shower wall, his injured hand held carefully before him and his body surrounded by yours.

You kissed him behind the ear and released the heavy weight beneath his cock, bringing your free arm around his middle. Your palm spread over his stomach as you drew him more securely against you.

“Good,” you murmured. “Then be sweet and let me take my time with you.”

You kept the first strokes long and measured, your fist gliding over every thick inch before closing more firmly on the descent. Joel attempted to follow you, but impatience made his hips arrive too early. You adjusted without comment, refusing to hurry; the next time he thrust forward, you slowed near the head and held him snugly in your palm until a strained breath escaped through his teeth.

Water ran over his shoulders and divided around your arms, gathering briefly in the dark hair beneath his navel before disappearing between your joined bodies. The shower could not conceal the low sounds he made whenever your grip changed or the unconscious contraction of his stomach beneath your palm. You understood what he wanted—the shallow movement of his hips asking for more speed, his left hand spreading against the tile to brace for the pressure he preferred—but kept him at that patient rhythm a little longer. By the time you tightened your fist, frustration no longer held his shoulders rigid. He was waiting for you, and his cock pulsed heavily against your palm.

“That’s it,” you whispered, your mouth close to his ear. “You can move with me now.”

Joel released a deep, uneven breath and rolled his hips forward. You met him, your fist descending as he pushed into it and closing more firmly when he reached the base. On his retreat, you stroked upward, letting the swollen head drag through the circle of your fingers before guiding him into the next movement. He followed more carefully this time, the rhythm hesitant only for the first few strokes before pleasure taught him what you wanted.

“There you go, baby.”

“God—feels so damn good.”

You held him close and let the rhythm develop between you. Each thrust grew deeper, Joel’s ass pressing into your lower stomach when he drew back before he drove forward again. Your fist worked over him in time with the motion, no longer making him wait, though you retained enough control to keep his impatience from carrying him too quickly toward the edge.

The change reached his breathing first. Those deep, measured pulls of air began catching halfway into his lungs, his mouth opening against the tile to release the low sounds he had tried to suppress when you entered. Soon he no longer seemed aware of them. His attention had narrowed to your fingers around his cock, your palm against his stomach and the body supporting him from behind.

You kissed the wet slope of his shoulder.

Joel had touched you in darkness and sunlight, slowly and with desperate hunger, had learned your body so thoroughly that sometimes a single adjustment of his hand could make you fall apart. Yet this felt different from simply returning the pleasure he had given you over the years. Tonight, he could not reach back and distract you with your own need. He could not turn, gather you against him and assume the responsibility of taking care of both of you. All he could do was remain inside your embrace and trust that being wanted did not depend upon what he could offer in return.

Your grip tightened. Joel groaned and drove forward with enough force to push the air from your lungs. You widened your stance and continued meeting him as the movement grew rougher, each thrust dragging his cock rapidly through your closed fingers before your hand followed him back to the base. Wet skin moved against wet skin beneath the shower, punctuated by his heavier breathing and a broken curse whenever you changed the angle of your wrist.

You pressed your mouth beneath his ear.

“Take it, baby,” you murmured. “Use my hand exactly how you need.”

Joel stopped trying to follow each movement you gave him and began taking the friction for himself, thrusting through your fist with all the force he had been restraining. You let him, your hand closed and steady around him while your other arm held him against you—until his injured fingers curled instinctively against the tile. The hiss that left him cut through the pleasure. You caught his wrist at once and drew his arm away from the wall without slowing the motion between his legs.

“Give me this one.”

Joel allowed you to fold his arm across his chest. You tucked the bruised hand against his opposite shoulder and covered it with your own, your forearm securing it safely in place.

“Ain’t bad,” he managed.

“Shh.”

You kissed the uninjured edge of his wrist. Your fist continued working steadily over his cock as though caring for one hurting part of him required no sacrifice from the rest.

Joel’s chest rose beneath your arm. His bruised fingers gradually relaxed against his shoulder, and his left hand left the tile to cover yours where it held him. His thumb searched through the water until it found the smooth band around your finger and rested there.

You turned your face and kissed his cheek.

Joel leaned into it for a fleeting second before the next stroke pulled a groan from him. His thumb remained pressed over your wedding band as he settled farther back, giving you more of his weight without looking to see whether you could hold it. You planted your feet, tightened your arm around his chest and did.

He was letting you have all of his need now: his injured hand held safely beneath yours, his balance entrusted to your body, his pleasure naked in every sound he could no longer contain. When your fist moved faster, his hips answered immediately. The rhythm that had belonged to both of you began to unravel as he pushed forward too soon and retreated only far enough to thrust again, each movement shorter and rougher than the last.

You adapted without breaking pace, concentrating the friction where his body responded most strongly. A rough curse left him when you repeated it, his cock almost painfully rigid within your fist, the pulse against your palm heavier and more insistent. His thighs began to tremble as the measured roll of his hips disappeared altogether. He was no longer fucking your hand with any discernible rhythm; he was chasing it, moving on instinct whenever your grip reached the sensitive head.

Your own breathing quickened against his back. Heat gathered low in your stomach as you watched the man who could reduce you to pleading with the smallest movement lose himself in your arms. You pressed your thighs together, but every sound he made travelled directly through you, every desperate thrust sending another pulse of want between your legs. None of it made you want to turn his attention toward you. Tonight, his pleasure was enough.

Your mouth found the place beneath his ear that always made his shoulders rise.

“Look at you,” you whispered, affection wrapped around the teasing words. “You were so determined to handle this yourself, and now you can barely keep those legs steady.”

Joel tried to answer, but your fist tightened and the words collapsed into a hoarse moan. You smiled against his skin.

“No clever answer for me?”

“Hard to—” He broke off, thrusting roughly into your grip. “Hard to fuckin’ think.”

“That’s all right, baby. You don’t need to.”

You increased the pace until the movement became relentless, your slick fist closing around him as quickly as his hips could push forward. Joel’s forehead pressed against the tile, shoulders drawing tight as pleasure gathered beyond his control. His breathing fractured into rough, shallow pulls, each ending in a sound he no longer attempted to swallow.

His left hand abandoned yours and flattened against the wall, fingers splayed wide for purchase. Your wedding ring remained warm beneath the place his thumb had pressed it. He drove into your fist once, twice, then faltered, the next thrust arriving shorter as his cock throbbed heavily in your palm. You felt the approaching release before he spoke—in the sudden rigidity of his stomach, the way his thighs locked as if bracing might delay what your hand was already pulling from him, the helpless twitch that travelled through his cock whenever your grip reached the head.

“Baby—” His voice cracked around the word.

You kissed his jaw. “I know.”

“Close—”

The admission came through clenched teeth, barely louder than the water. You kept your fist moving at the same firm pace, refusing to startle his body with any sudden change.

“How close?”

“Real fuckin’—close.”

Joel attempted another thrust, but the rhythm had abandoned him entirely. His hips jerked into your hand and stopped, leaving you to carry the movement while he trembled within your arms. His weight tipped backward. You accepted all of it, your forearm held securely across his chest and his injured hand protected beneath yours.

“Please,” he rasped. “Don’t slow down—”

“I won’t, baby.”

Your fist travelled over him in fast, complete strokes, drawing the tension tighter with each pass. His cock pulsed violently against your palm, so close now that every movement seemed to pull a broken sound from the deepest part of his chest.

You caught his earlobe gently between your teeth.

“Every drop for me?”

“All yours.” The answer came instantly, stripped of breath and pride. His head dropped as his hips gave one final, desperate drive through your fist. “Every fuckin’ drop.”

A tender satisfaction spread beneath the heat in your chest. You tightened your embrace, lips brushing the shell of his ear while your hand gave him the exact rhythm his body had been seeking from the moment you entered the shower.

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered. “Give it to me.”

The praise undid him.

Joel came with a sound so raw it seemed torn from the center of him.

His entire body locked in your arms. His cock jerked hard in your fist, the first hot pulse spilling over your fingers before the shower could carry it away. His hips punched forward with the next one, wrenching a broken groan from his throat as another thick streak struck the tile beneath him.

You kept your hand moving, drawing every stroke from base to tip while release continued to pulse from him. Each one seized a different part of his body—his stomach clenching beneath your arm, his thighs jumping, his shoulders drawing taut beneath your mouth. You felt the force of it pass through him until there was nothing left with which he could hold himself upright.

His knees buckled.

You caught his full weight before either of you could fall.

Your chest pressed tightly to his back, your arm banded across his ribs and your palm protecting the swollen knuckles tucked against his shoulder. Joel trembled through every aftershock, forehead resting heavily against the wall. His cock gave one final, helpless pulse into your slowing hand.

“Fuck,” he choked. “Baby—”

“Easy. I’ve got you.”

You continued moving until the last throb softened beneath your palm. Only then did you loosen your fingers, careful of the sensitivity that made his hips flinch when your thumb grazed the head. The water washed your hand clean, carrying the evidence of his release toward the drain.

Joel remained folded against the wall, his breathing coming in ragged pulls. You kept him gathered within your arms, lips moving over his shoulder and along the nape of his neck while the final tremors passed through him.

“Take your time, baby,” you murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His left hand covered your forearm where it crossed his chest. His thumb rubbed slowly over your skin, Joel still searching for some way to touch you even while you bore most of his weight.

Eventually, he lifted his head.

“Need to turn around.”

“You steady?”

“With you holdin’ me? Yeah.”

You helped him move carefully, keeping his injured hand against his chest until his back met the wall. The moment he faced you, his left arm came around your waist and pulled you against him.

Joel kissed you before you could speak.

The kiss held none of the frantic hunger that had taken him apart moments earlier. It was slow and open, his lips moving over yours with an exhausted tenderness that left you more exposed than anything he had said. His damp beard scraped gently across your chin as he kissed you again, lingering this time, breathing you in as though the release had stripped him down to the simplest things he knew.

Your hands settled against his chest.

He rested his forehead against yours.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You never have to thank me for touching you. Your needs are my needs too.”

“Ain’t only that.”

His hand moved slowly up your back, keeping you close.

“Been meanin’ everything else.”

You traced the wet line of his jaw with your thumb. “Joel…”

He watched you, something tired and unguarded in his eyes.

“You’d do the same for me,” you said.

“In a heartbeat.”

“Then quit acting like it only works one way, my love.”

The corner of his mouth lifted before he kissed you again. His hand travelled down your arm until his fingers found yours, and he raised your left hand between you. His thumb passed over your wedding band with quiet concentration.

“Feels strange not havin’ mine on.”

“I know.”

“Kept reachin’ for it all night.”

“I noticed that too.”

You guided his injured hand closer and pressed your lips to the bare place where his ring belonged.

“Still all mine without it.”

His eyes softened. “Always.”

You stayed beneath the water until his breathing settled, holding each other in the humid quiet. When you finally turned off the shower, Joel allowed you to dry him, although he complained when you knelt to run the towel down his legs.

“Can dry my own damn feet, darlin’.”

“With which hand?”

His mouth closed.

“That’s what I thought.”

You wrapped the towel around his waist and guided him into the bedroom with your palm resting at the base of his spine.

The wedding band remained exactly where you had left it.

Joel looked at it while you sat him on the edge of the mattress and knelt between his knees with fresh gauze. You worked carefully around each bruised knuckle, smoothing the bandage without pulling it too tightly. He watched your hands throughout, quiet and heavy-limbed, his left palm resting warmly against the back of your neck.

When you finished, you raised his injured hand and kissed the pale indentation once more.

His gaze moved from his bare finger to the ring on the table.

Then he reached for it with his left hand.

“Joel, you can’t put it back on yet.”

“I know, baby, but I was thinkin’…” He picked up the band and held it toward you. “You still got that chain in your jewelry box? The one you don’t wear?”

Your heart gave a small, painful pull.

“I do.”

You retrieved the thin chain and sat beside him. Joel placed the ring in your palm, trusting you with it as he had trusted you with everything else that night. You threaded the chain through the band before fastening it carefully around his neck.

The ring settled against the damp hair on his chest.

Joel looked down and touched it with two fingers. His thumb passed slowly over the familiar curve before he closed his hand around it, holding it against his sternum. The tension that had lingered in his face since you removed it finally eased; his shoulders dropped, and the breath he released sounded deeper than any he had taken since leaving urgent care.

“Better?” you asked.

“Yeah.” His eyes lifted to yours, tired and unmistakably relieved. He gave the ring another small squeeze but did not release it. “Much better.”

You covered his closed hand with yours. “You really hated having it off.”

Joel glanced down at the pale indentation around his finger. “Kept feelin’ for it.” His thumb rubbed over the empty place as though demonstrating a habit his body had not yet learned to abandon. “Every time I looked at my hand, somethin’ felt wrong. Like I’d left part of myself sittin’ on that table.”

The quiet confession tightened your throat. It was only a circle of gold, small enough to disappear inside his broad palm, but Joel had worn it through years of work, sleep, arguments, dinners and mornings when neither of you had anything more important to say than asking who had finished the coffee. He had grown so accustomed to carrying the visible proof of your life together that its absence had left his hand feeling unfamiliar to him.

You curled your fingers around his, pressing the ring gently against his chest. “It was never going anywhere.”

“Know that.” His gaze returned to yours. “Still didn’t like bein’ without it.”

You leaned forward and kissed the crease between his brows, lingering until it softened beneath your mouth.

“Come here,” you murmured, drawing back the covers. “Let me hold you, my love.”

He lay down without argument, his injured hand elevated safely on the pillow. When you settled beside him, Joel rested his head against your chest and curved his left arm around your waist. The ring lay cool between his skin and yours, warming slowly where your bodies met.

His thumb found your wedding band once more.

“Mine safe, sweetheart?” he asked, already half asleep.

You covered the ring resting over his heart.

“Right here, baby.”

Joel released one final, tired breath against your skin. His entire body softened into the mattress, giving you its full and familiar weight.

This time, when you held him, he did not try to hold you up in return.

Breeding kink might actually be my favourite thing ever omfg. Also i wrote this at the beach cause i hate getting in the water💪💪 #productiveaf + this wasn’t proof read:(

Taglist! Ig im tagging people in drabbles from now on oh well

Pedro laughed and put his glass back on the counter with a low thud.

"Oh shut up…" he grinned, feeling heat spread in his cheeks from being the center of attention. Or maybe it was the alcohol in his system.

"No, no, no…" his friends disagreed in unison, raising their glasses to celebrate him.

Despite the faint flattery, Pedro felt the good mood in his bones. He had just finished a movie that had taken many months of hard work, so of course his head would have been swimming even without the whiskey in his glass.

He was in a bar with his best friends, he could use his next few weeks to rest, and he was satisfied with the outcome of the movie. Indeed, there was reason to have a good time tonight.

"Next round is on me!" Pedro laughed, even though half of his friends couldn't hear him over the loud noise around them. The other half shook their heads in protest, but he was faster than them. As swiftly as the wind, Pedro stood up from the table, grabbed his wallet and swayed his index finger in front of them.

"I insist!" he shouted, giving them a wry smirk before heading for the counter where people were lined up in front of the bartender like children watching animals behind the fence at a zoo.

"Can I get another round for my friends?" Pedro asked the bartender, a young man with a dark beard and piercing grey eyes that seemed to look straight into his soul. He just hoped the man wouldn't look too closely and make a scene in the middle of the bar. Most of the time, Pedro didn't mind taking one or two pictures with fans, but the place was pretty crowded, and since he wanted to celebrate with his friends, he wasn't keen to draw everyone's attention to him and wait for such a long time while everyone was having their share of him.

"Of course!" the young man said and gave him a friendly nod. If he had recognized him, he didn't hint at it, which Pedro was relieved by.

"Excuse me…"

He briefly flinched at the voice of a woman, a heaviness settling in his stomach. Shit. Well, now he would have to get through it and just hope that the woman wouldn't inform anyone else in the bar of his presence.

"You dropped something."

Pedro finally turned around, glaring at you through narrow eyes.

"What?"

"You dropped something. Here you go."

You quickly lowered yourself to the floor and picked up a small item, throwing your hair over your shoulder as you straightened up. With a shy smile, you handed him his wallet, which must have fallen out of his back pocket.

"Thank you – so much," Pedro stammered, taken aback by the unexpected encounter. He had been certain that you approached him to ask for a picture, but there was nothing shimmering in your eyes that resembled recognition or excitement. Just… kindness.

You were young, significantly younger than him. Maybe around thirty or in your late thirties, tops. But gosh, you were pretty, and he was positive that it wasn't just the dim light shining onto your face in such an intimate way. There was something about you causing his nerves to prickle and his mouth to dry up.

"I'm sorry, I'm an idiot. I always keep my wallet in my pocket, but it has fallen out a million times before. Thank you, honestly. Can I – Can I thank you by buying you a drink?"

Your grin broadened, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, though you seemed a little unsettled.

"Really? I mean, I – you don't have to. Seriously."

"I want to," Pedro simply said over the noise and took a step toward the counter.

His friends could wait. This was more important.

Pedro couldn't remember when the last time was that he had met someone your age who didn't know his name or any other personal details about his life. Usually, at this point in a conversation, the other person would have shoved their phone in his face, told him about their favorite projects of his and asked him for a hug. Not that he minded his fame, he really didn't. Yet it was refreshing to stand in front of a woman who had absolutely no intentions or expectations. Someone who was getting to know him like human beings usually did when one of them wasn't a famous actor. Pedro hadn't experienced it in so long that he felt almost eager to find out what it was like. Of course, he would buy you that drink if it meant talking to you just a little longer.

"Thank you. Okay…" you whispered and took your seat on a stool while Pedro ordered two Mojitos.

"Is that okay? Do you like Mojitos?" he asked, which made your eyes light up.

"Yes. Of course, yeah," you answered and crossed your legs, drumming your fingers on the counter.

"Good. I'm sorry, I just ordered without asking you, which is kind of stupid because I wanted to invite you…"

"It's fine. Seriously."

Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, Pedro exhaled softly. "Are you here with friends?"

"Yes. But they kind of ditched me."

His eyebrows lifted, curiosity sparking on his face. "Ditched you how?"

"Well, the plan was to come here with three friends. One of them asked to bring her girlfriend last minute. We agreed, but I should've known that the two of them would leave after an hour, which is exactly what happened. The second one met a guy while waiting in the bathroom line, and the third one just got a phone call and left to pick up her friend because she got arrested."

Pedro's features drew with disbelief, his eyes wide but a feeble grin tugging at his lips.

"Arrested?"

"It's nothing bad," you uttered, making a dismissive hand gesture. "She drove too fast, that's it."

"So they just left you here alone?" Pedro wanted to know and rested his right elbow on the counter, slightly leaning in.

"Yeah. Which is why I planned to leave. That was right before I saw your wallet fall out of your pocket." You smiled, allusively glancing at the brown leather, glinting in the bright light. Pedro now held it in his hand, just in case he would drop it again and there wouldn't be someone to help him as you had.

"I'm really sorry. That doesn't sound like a good night."

"Oh, I don't mind. Besides… I'm not so alone now, right?"

Pedro bared his teeth as he gave you another smile. You were definitely interesting, that much was for sure. A young woman alone in the bar after her friends had ditched her… And a woman who was seemingly unaware of his identity. Pedro wondered whether you just didn't recognize him like that, the room a little dark and his hair messier than usual, or if you just hadn't seen his face before. At least, he could rule out the possibility of you being drunk. You were able to stand steadily on your own, and he couldn't smell any alcohol on you after all.

"No, you're not."

"Oh, but I don't wanna occupy you if you're – are you here with people? Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you away from them. I mean, if you're not on your own."

Your eyes were wide as though you had just realized something that made you deeply regret your previous phrasing. It made Pedro grin, though he tried to hide it in order to spare you the embarrassment. He didn't want you thinking that he was laughing about you.

"I was the one who bought you that drink, wasn't I? You think I would've done that if I didn't wanna be… occupied?"

If Pedro wasn't mistaken, you were blushing, your pupils scurrying over the counter as though searching for something.

"Right…"

"But to answer your question: Yes, I'm here with friends."

"Oh, great!" you said and took a swig from your Mojito, which the bartender had placed in front of you, as well as one cocktail in front of Pedro.

"Is it your birthday?"

"What makes you think that?" Pedro chuckled before remembering the homemade crown one of his friends had put on his head a little earlier. On the back, the name of the movie that had just wrapped filming could be read, but it seemed like you hadn't spotted the lettering so far.

"Oh, right… No, it's not my birthday. It's just… work stuff."

"Work stuff? What do you mean?" you laughed and tilted your head to the side.

"Well, we had a major success today. So my friends and I decided to go for a drink." It wasn't even a blunt lie. Wrapping a film in time definitely counted as a major success.

"Oh great! I'm so happy for you. What do you do?"

Pedro realized that he had reached a dead end if he didn't want to keep the lie up. Normally, he wouldn't have cared, since you were a stranger that he probably would never see again, but the idea of coming up with a completely dishonest story made his stomach twist. He didn't know why, but Pedro didn't want to tell you a false tale. But neither did he want this quite appealing dynamic to shift by telling you who he was. Even if you had never heard of him, one click on your phone would be enough to find out that he wasn't just a normal guy grabbing a drink at the bar with his friends.

And what would happen then? There was a good chance you would ask for a selfie, but what was even more likely was that you would start acting differently around him. That was what people did most of the time when they discerned his face behind his large sunglasses or underneath the cap he had pulled deeply into his face. Pedro rarely complained about it since he had enough people in his life who kept him grounded and viewed him as their friend or a family member instead of a celebrity, but it hadn't gone unnoticed by him either. How their voices became higher, their behavior a little tense as they made an extra amount of effort around him.

In the end, Pedro decided to find a balance. He wouldn't lie to you but just not go as much into detail as he would have had to in order to give you the whole picture.

"Oh, I'm working on film sets. Just a bunch of boring stuff."

"Film sets? Oh wow," you whispered, giving him a look of sheer admiration. No, this was exactly what he didn't want.

"It's not that exciting. I swear to you. It sounds so glamorous, but it's mostly just waiting around, following orders and going home tired."

Fortunately, your expression softened at that, and he felt like he had the version he had just met in front of him again. Good.

"But I hope you're not tired today," you smirked, twisting a strand of hair around your finger. "I mean, you have to celebrate whatever that success is you're celebrating."

Pedro didn't know whether you were consciously sending him signals by toying with your hair like that, but he liked to believe that you did. Because it fit exactly with the fluttering of his heart. God, you were cute. And somehow, although he had met you not more than five minutes ago, it felt so easy and effortless talking to you. Or it was the mere fact that it had been years since he had met a person like that. In a crowded bar, his wrist still hurting from the many autographs he had given on set earlier, and a person in front of him who saw him for what he was instead of his name and profession. Pedro didn't like to get all self-pitiful and complain about things that others were working hard for their whole lives, but in that moment, he simply appreciated the circumstances and the fact that out of all people, it had been you who had picked up his wallet.

"No," he grinned, resting his chin on his palm. "I'm not that tired today."

Ten minutes later, Pedro had bought a second drink for you, gin this time.

His friends were long forgotten, and so was the fact that he had promised himself not to stay too long but rather have a good night's rest after those weeks of long shooting days.

This was much better.

You were just throwing your head back, laughing about something Pedro had said, which he had already forgotten. It wasn't hard to get distracted by your beautiful laugh, how your lips parted and how confidently you showed your teeth while your whole body trembled. He liked when people laughed with their whole body, and he especially loved it when people weren't afraid to show their joy.

"I had the worst haircut at around 14," you told him, shaking your head at the seemingly horrible memory. Right, the two of you were talking about hairstyles, and Pedro had just told you about some of his worst decisions regarding his appearance throughout the years.

"You got any photos?"

"Definitely not," you giggled and raised your index finger. "A few years later, when I realized how awful it was, I literally went around and deleted all the evidence. I think my grandmother might have a picture in her drawer, but she had to promise me that she's never gonna take it out of there."

"Well, I guess we're gonna have to visit your grandmother then," Pedro whispered, his mouth curled and his eyes sparkling. "What was it? You're gonna let me guess?"

"Sure." You challengingly folded your arms and twisted your lips.

"Mhm… A bowl cut that went wrong?" Pedro asked and tried to picture how it might have looked on you. He couldn't imagine that any haircut would make you look bad, though.

"No. Though the part about it going wrong is correct."

"Did you cut it yourself?" Pedro wanted to know, working his brain to come up with more ideas for the most horrible hairstyles that might have been fashionable fifteen years ago.

"No, a friend of mine did. She's actually one of the friends I came here with today."

"It can't be that bad then. If you're still friends."

You laughed at that, then finally cleared your throat to reveal the truth about your haircut.

"You know, I wanted bangs. Because everyone had bangs. And so my friend started cutting, and she cut it too short. And then she tried to make it look less radical by cutting the hair around my face, and in the end, I had a mullet. And even a very bad one."

His eyebrows shot upward, Pedro pursed his lips, trying to figure out what you might have looked like.

"But people wear mullets again, don't they?"

"Not mine. Definitely not mine."

Pedro burst into laughter, really craving to see a picture that captured that moment in your life, but before he could ask for it again, you emptied your glass and shyly wiped over your mouth with the back of your hand.

"I really don't want you to stay away from your friends because of me…" you admitted, peering at him through your lashes, which frankly, drove him insane.

He couldn't let you go yet. And if he had to, he at least needed something from you: your phone number or your name on Instagram. But at that point, you finding out about his true job would be inevitable. Unless… you didn't just not know his face but also his name. It would be worth it, wouldn't it? The alternative was to part ways with you and never see your pretty face again. Never see again how you nibbled at your thumbnail, only to quickly drop it once you realized what you were doing.

"I told you, I don't mind. I… I'm rather fond of such lovely company."

Heat shot to your face at his compliments, painting your cheeks a light red and making his stomach bubble with excitement and a delightful warmth.

"And what about them?"

"Oh, they surely haven't even noticed my absence," Pedro lied, hoping none of them were searching the room too extensively for him. Perhaps the alcohol had done its job, and they were all too busy singing along to the music or gossiping about anyone they had ever met instead of bothering about his whereabouts.

"Are you sure?"

"A hundred percent sure."

With that, Pedro swallowed hard, moistening his throat. "Besides… I just don't feel like leaving you here alone."

You looked slightly to the side, finger nervously tapping on your thigh.

"You don't need to worry about me," you whispered, chewing on your lower lip.

"But I do. And to be honest, I'm also just a very selfish man who doesn't feel like letting you go just yet."

"You're selfish?" you repeated, a mischievous glimmer in your pupils.

"I can be very selfish. If I want something very badly."

"Then I better not get in your way, right?"

He drew a deep breath, relishing your little cat-and-mouse game, which was precisely to his liking.

"Oh, but I want you right there. In my way." Pedro shifted a little closer, his knee touching yours.

"Well, what do you want?" you whispered, darting your eyes up at him, a thin, glossy layer hanging over them. There were multiple possible explanations for your agitation, but Pedro prayed it had to do with him and not the empty glass in front of you. Shit, he felt the alcohol as well, but at least he was certain he would have been just as smitten with you if he had stayed sober. You were too enchanting and adorable not to feel drawn to, no matter his alcohol level.

"Do you really wanna know?" Pedro whispered in your ear, your heads so close now that his friends at the table probably wouldn't have made out his face among the many people. If only there hadn't been that stupid crown on top of his head…

"Yes," you panted, your hands gripping the edge of the counter as his breath fanned your earlobe.

"Are you sure? Because it's… bad. It's not what I should say to such a lovely girl like you, who I've just met."

"I wanna know," you insisted, almost begging him with your quiet voice. Pedro saw stars, his head spinning and his body feeling so limp he craved something to hold onto. What had he done to deserve someone so sweet and perfect? He wanted you so badly, and he didn't even know in what way.

On one hand, he couldn't stop thinking about getting you into his bed, undressing you, and fucking you while you continued to make those beautiful sounds for him, but on the other hand, he didn't want this evening to end with a one-night stand after which Pedro and you would never see each other again.

"Please," you muttered, which caused the last thread holding his composure together to snap. His hand found your hip, fingers digging into your flesh as his lips touched your ear.

"I wanna have you naked underneath me," he said bluntly, hoping that it wasn't too much and that you wouldn't be appalled by his directness. You had asked for it, though, hadn't you? With wide eyes, you glared up at him, even though it hadn't diminished your arousal in any way. There was something innocent about you, but maybe it was just the fact that you were so much younger than him. He shouldn't want you like this, but his critical thinking was overcast by the alcohol, by the stuffy air in here, the beauty you emitted, and his desire to touch you without your stupid jeans in the way –

"Please take me with you," you suddenly whispered, interrupting Pedro's quite chaotic train of thought.

"You want me to take you with me? Where?"

For a brief second, something like nervousness flickered across your face, your teeth grazing your bottom lip.

The bathroom.

Yes, that would be an option. But then again, it wasn't really how Pedro imagined things. You deserved better than to be fucked over some dirty sink. Especially because he hoped things wouldn't be a one-time thing. Christ, what was he even doing here… He was supposed to enjoy a casual night out with his friends after finishing a movie, and now he was about to abandon them for a young woman he couldn't get out of his head.

"I want you," you whispered, putting your hand on top of his, beckoning him to trace it higher up your leg.

"You wanna come home with me?" Pedro really prayed that you would agree to see him again. Should he ask now, or would that come across as strange?

"Yes… Please." It seemed as though you had forgotten all about not wanting to rip him away from his friends, just like Pedro had. Because you didn't protest—or in fact, say anything—as he guided you out of the crowded bar a few minutes later, hoping that no one would recognize him now. It would have been quite possibly the worst development.

But Pedro was lucky. His hand firm on the small of your back, he held the door open for you and then drew a heavy breath through his mouth once the two of you were outside. It was so quiet all of a sudden that his ear rang, and when he cleared his throat, his own voice sounded unfamiliar to him.

"You still wanna do this?" Pedro chuckled, even though he found it an odd thing to say just a few seconds later. Your lips curved, your hand reaching for his wrist to pull him toward you.

"Yes. I do. If you promise me you won't tell anyone."

His mouth crashed into yours before he could think about it properly and come to the conclusion that it would be unwise to kiss a stranger in the middle of Manhattan.

Fuck it.

No one would recognize him anyway in the dark, his face covered by your head. Still, Pedro gently shoved you toward the black van waiting for him a few feet down the street, which would take the two of you to his apartment in the West Village.

"Why?" he spoke against your lips, bringing his hands to your waist.

"Because I've never done something like that before…"

Your words, or rather, the content of them, ignited a little fire within his heart. God, he shouldn't feel so turned on by the fact that you were throwing all your habits overboard in order to go home with him. And, of course, there was your unawareness of his stardom and the thought that you had no special interest in him beyond your sexual desire. You didn't want to fuck him because his name was Pedro Pascal, but because you wanted him. You had met a stranger in the bar, someone you felt so attracted to that you were trusting him to take you to his apartment.

"I won't tell anyone…" he murmured and hummed gently, seeing that your back was about to touch his car.

"Careful…" he whispered and knocked on the window of the passenger seat. His driver nodded in understanding, and a second later, the rear doors were unlocked.

"You… why do you have a driver?" you asked quietly, but allowed Pedro to help you inside without hesitation.

"I told you, I work in film."

That was all the answer you got for now, even though he was positive you would have more questions once the two of you were at his apartment, located on one of New York's most expensive streets.

The car started moving, and Pedro's hands were immediately all over your body again, this time taking hold of your face and neck.

"I'm y/n, by the way," you panted, your index and middle fingers hooked into the collar of his shirt.

"Pedro."

His heart skipped a beat, waiting for a suspicious noise of realization from you, but it didn't come. Thank god.

"Do you think we should…" you began, clearly reluctant to make out in the car with the driver just a few feet away, but Pedro just pushed his face against yours and stroked up your thigh. Of course, you were right, and he should just wait the five-minute drive to his apartment, but he had a hunch that sitting next to you without touching you would be impossible. Your scent, your silky hair, your warm skin were all too tempting to just sit there, actionless. Besides, his driver was much too professional to comment on his feral behavior.

"It's okay. Just relax… Let me help you relax."

Faces squeezed together, Pedro's hand quickly dropped to the opening of your jeans, where he hastily undid the button and zipper. He didn't have much time, but he wanted to give you at least something before their arrival. Most of all, it was his selfish, egoistical yearning to hear your pretty voice beg him for more while he was taking you up to his apartment… Yes, that was the kind of outcome he was hoping for. Leading you up the staircase while your glossy eyes glanced up at him in awe of the things he had just made you feel in the car. Your lips parted, eager and hungry for more.

"Huh. Fuck, I - " you stammered, sucking uneven breaths through your teeth while Pedro nimbly slid his right hand past your waistband like it was exactly where it belonged.

"I know… Open your legs a bit wider for me, baby."

You did, though it was a struggle in the tight space in the back of the car. His driver probably couldn't even see anything except their rapid, greedy kissing and maybe your arms slung around his neck. Definitely not his hand disappearing in your pants.

"That's it…" Pedro exhaled, pressing his palm against your clothed pussy, desperately searching for any wetness.

There it was… Through the lace of your underwear – why were you even wearing lace for a casual night out with your friends? – he felt a certain dampness, which made him wish he could just shove your jeans down right here and right now and smell and taste you. Well, perhaps he could do that in a few minutes. There was something immensely ardent about doing it in the back seat of a vehicle, though.

"Do you like that?" he purred, moving his hand in circles to create friction against your clit.

"Y-Yes," you whimpered, thrusting your hips and shifting closer against Pedro's palm as he rolled his hand into your cunt.

"You're so wet… All that for me?"

"Mhm," you cried out, your hands grasping his bicep to pull him closer.

"How naughty… I thought you were just at the bar for a night out with your friends. And here you are, dripping all over my hand."

Slowly, Pedro pushed the fabric of your panties aside and inserted his middle finger inside your clenched hole without any warning. Your body wriggled, the muscles in your legs tensing while Pedro mercilessly entered you to the hilt. You were properly soaked with your natural body fluids, which made him soothe you in satisfaction.

"Taking it so well, sweetheart… So beautiful. And so goddamn wet… You think you can take another finger?"

The fabric bothered him, but as of now, he couldn't just take them off so effortlessly, and ripping them wasn't an option either.

"Yes," you whined, arching your chest toward him when Pedro pressed his thumb into your pulsing clit. Somehow, every part of your body was prickling with heat, whether it was your face, your lips, your pussy, or the side of your neck, which Pedro was still gripping tightly while scissoring you open. Just when he was about to comply and add his ring finger, the car came to a stop, and you squealed, both your heads brutally torn back to the present by the sudden intrusion. Pedro pulled his hand back fast, feeling his heart thunder in his chest.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you, but we're at your apartment," the driver spoke. Pedro was too caught in the moment to figure out whether Mike's voice was laced with amusement like he had expected it, or if he was at least trying to act unsuspecting like he wished.

"Thank you," Pedro answered with his raspy, hoarse voice and opened the door with his left hand. His right… well, he didn't want to ruin the expensive interior of the van.

With a quiet thud, your back met the wall next to the door to his apartment.

He protected the back of your head with his hand to ensure he wasn't hurting you when he pressed you into the wall with his whole weight and passion. Now that they were in a completely private place with no one observing them, Pedro wanted nothing more than to fulfill his wishes and opened your jeans for a second time that night. With skilled fingers, he shoved the fabric down your hips, waiting for it to drop onto the ground and then slowly sank to his knees in front of you.

"Pedro – " you began, nervousness resonating in your low tone, but as his lips kissed your bare knee, the rest of your words caught in your throat.

"It's okay. I'm gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart."

Sure, his aged knees hurt a little on the hard floor, but he simply couldn't wait long enough to guide you to his bedroom or couch. Besides, there was a desk nearby, which he could make you sit on top of in case this position became too impractical.

"I – I just want…" you whimpered and buried your fingers in his locks, your nails grazing his scalp in a way that was most delicious to him.

"Yeah? What do you want?" Pedro's mouth was pressed against your mound, which allowed him to finally take in your scent. And gosh… you smelled amazing. Clean, yet surrounded by a strong musky note.

Blood rushed to his cock, which had been hard the moment he first kissed you in the car. He briefly considered taking himself out and pumping his cock while making out with your sweet pussy, but for now, he didn't have the patience that such actions would demand. He had to dive straight in and lick through your folds that smelled so perfect, so seductive…

"Please. Please touch me, I – I need it so bad." You sounded close to tears, which elicited a hint of pity in him.

He wasn't consciously edging you; he was just savoring the sight in front of him, worshipping every inch of skin that he gradually unwrapped like a present.

"I know, baby. I'm gonna make it better. Gonna kiss the pain away."

His lips enclosed your bundle of nerves, and he hollowed his cheeks to apply pressure on the bud as the lacy fabric stung his skin. Your brow furrowed, which Pedro couldn't see from that angle, but your noises were more than enough to confirm that he was doing more than ordinarily well.

"Ah. Ow, fuck… Yes. Yes, please." Pedro smiled contently, then stuck out his tongue to tease your clit through the thin layer.

"Pedro," you cried out, rolling your hips as though to plead with him to proceed faster.

"Take it off. Please," you additionally begged, but Pedro had too much fun teasing you with your pretty underwear, which he felt you had put on just for him, though this was obviously not the case since neither of you had expected to hook up with a stranger tonight.

"Relax. I got you. Just gonna let your panties stay on your body a little longer… You can't see it, but you look so pretty with them. Just let me play with them a little, okay?"

Your hand lying flat on the wall behind you, Pedro ran a hand up your stomach and slipped it underneath your shirt.

"Y-Yes," you choked, knees turning to jelly as his hand cupped your left breast through your bra and gently cradled your flesh.

"Jesus Christ, sweetheart… What have I done to deserve all that, mhm? You smell so good, you felt so good around my finger, and I know you're gonna taste divine."

It was Pedro's cue to slowly shove the fabric out of his way and press an open-mouthed kiss to your opening. His tongue quickly swirled around your hole, feeling your wetness prickle on his skin, and then a few seconds after that, he entered you with his fat muscle.

All of it had happened too quickly for you to catch up in time, but now, you gasped for air so loudly that Pedro briefly glanced up your body to check if you were okay. Of course, you were. Your cheeks were just a little ruddy, and you looked out of the loop, overwhelmed by how good he was capable of making you feel. His hand clasped around your breast tightened a little, squeezing and kneading your warm flesh. He grinned when he felt you grab his wrist, encouraging him to do more and explore more of your body, but for now, he was utterly smitten with the taste of your pussy, which is why he focused on that part of you.

"You're gonna drive me fucking insane, sweetheart," Pedro grunted, but then was quick to stick his tongue back inside. He couldn't reach as deeply as he could with his fingers, but he could taste you and feel your juices trickle down his chin, a sensation grand enough that he wished he would never have to separate from your core. You also received all the necessary stimulation on your clit through his nose, scrunched up against the upper part of your pussy.

God, if only time would stop right now. If only he could do this every single day, every hour, for the rest of his life. It was all of you that kept him under this spell, not just your pussy. You were so responsive and reacted to him so sweetly that Pedro craved to explore more of you. He wanted to know all your most sensitive spots, tease you until he had discovered every side of you, and find out how much he could coax out of you before the two of you were too exhausted to even connect your lips. He wanted to know you in every way possible and not stop until these feelings were quenched. It was one thing to have you pressed up against the wall, but another to listen to you sharing your most hidden desires with him. That was what he wanted... yes.

"Please, Pedro…" you breathed, knees dangerously close to giving in, which would cause you to collapse on top of him. He could definitely imagine worse things than that. Maybe he should just ask you to sit on his face and hope you forgot all about time and place… Maybe you would roll your hips into him all night and – His eyes pinched shut as he felt you pull harshly at his strands.

Right. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed how he had stopped with the twirls of his tongue. Pedro seized the opportunity to switch things up a little and replaced his tongue with his finger. He was still owing you a second finger, after all.

"Rock against my mouth, y/n. Take what you need," Pedro requested and pressed his flat tongue against your clit. That way, he couldn't exactly trace your most sensitive spot with his pointed tongue as well as he would have liked, but you could create all the necessary friction on your own while he fucked you with his finger. You clenched heavenly around him, and Pedro loved to watch all those little reactions, such as your pussy flattening whenever he circled your nipple or your hips uncontrollably twitching when he curled his finger inside you. You were enjoying yourself, and for some reason, there was nothing that could possibly have brought Pedro more pleasure than that idea.

"Ready for a second finger, little one?" he grinned and finally pushed down your underwear at that very moment. He couldn't help it. He needed to feel all of you, feel the pulse in your clit in his entire body until the thrumming of his heart was in perfect sync with you.

"Yes. Yes, please," you pleaded, more than thrilled by the course of action.

"Take a deep breath for me."

You must have rewired something in his brain; there was no other explanation. He pressed his thick ring finger inside you, humming gently as he realized that he hadn't taken off the piece of jewelry yet. You must have felt it too, given the way you were bending your neck to make out his face between your legs.

"You're not married, are you?"

Pedro chuckled softly and reassuringly brushed over your naked thigh. "No, I'm not… I can still take it off though. If it's too cold."

"No," you quickly murmured, relaxing your shoulders and letting your head fall back against the wall. "I wanna cum, Pedro."

He laughed tenderly, sucking your little nub in his mouth and curling his fingers inside you in the meantime.

"You wanna cum or you're gonna cum?"

"I don't know," you whimpered, sounding as though you were deeply frustrated about something you couldn't quite pinpoint.

"It's okay… Take your time. Do you want me to go faster?"

"I don't know," you whined again, knees shaking and your body squirming unrestrainedly.

"Shh… it's okay. It's okay, baby. Just relax and let me take care of you. You don't have to do anything. I know what you need."

With that, Pedro stood up in front of you, not because he wanted to leave that spot between your legs, but because he figured it was time for a little change in your position. You seemed more than ready and in need of him to finish what he had started, but for one, he didn't trust that you could stand on your own, and also, he wanted you calm. And he wasn't sure whether he would achieve that with you standing and your hands desperately dragging at his hair like you were seeking something. Laying you down and having your body sprawled out in front of him would make things easier for both of you.

You didn't seem to perceive Pedro rising to his feet until he placed one hand on the back of your neck and draped the other around your waist.

"Let me get you to bed, okay, sweetheart?"

You nodded before your eyes became round. "But you – you're gonna touch me again, right?"

"Of course, darling," Pedro laughed, then effortlessly hauled you up in his arms, cradling your head against his chest. "I'm gonna do a lot more than that… if you want me to."

"Yes. I want everything."

Pedro suppressed another amused giggle, since your words had sounded more serious than one would suspect from the phrasing alone. Your face buried in his neck, he carried you through the hallway and into his bedroom, where he cautiously laid you down on the bed.

"Pedro?" you asked, or rather whispered, scrutinizing the room with blown pupils.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Are you rich?"

"Am I rich?" Pedro repeated, his chest vibrating with laughter. "I work in film."

"Well, what exactly do you do… in film?"

While taking off his shirt, Pedro thought about a reply that did reality justice without ruining the intimate moment between the two of you. There was no way around it now. You didn't deserve to be lied to, and he couldn't give you some trite explanation again.

"I'm an actor," he therefore whispered, threw his shirt in a corner of the room, and approached the bed.

"An actor? What movies have you made?"

"That doesn't really matter now…" Pedro mumbled, parting your knees with his hand and letting some of his weight press you deeper into the mattress.

"Do I know them?"

As a response, he yanked your shirt up, bundled the fabric right underneath your shoulders, and moved the cups of your bra aside.

"You haven't answered me," you giggled, which earned you a disapproving huff.

"I know. 'Cause I got more important things to attend to… more important than my stupid movies…"

"I'm sure they're not stupid," you babbled, body straining as you suddenly felt his hand cup your sex once more.

"Pedro," you hissed, writhing with your hips, but he remained unwavering and just twisted his wrist the slightest.

"I want you to cum for me. And you know what I would like to do then?"

You shook your head, even though there was a feverish glow upon your skin, making your eyes look glassy, almost like a doll.

"I would like to fuck you. Would you like me to do that too?"

His fingers were back inside you, reaching so deep that you threw your head to the side, searching for something only Pedro could give you.

"Y-Yes," you cried, rolling your hips forward, but this time he wanted to remain in charge of your actions, which was why he moved his thumb on his own and teased your clit the way he saw fit.

"I'm gonna make you all wet and pretty for me and then fuck you deep…"

"Yes," you yelped again, closing your eyes and biting down so hard on your bottom lip that it turned scarlet red.

"I wanna make you feel it all the way up in your belly… I want that pretty little head of yours only to think about my cock all the way inside you."

He twisted his finger as though to give you a little taste of what it would feel like to have his length inside you, but you were certain it would be an even more exceptional experience to be stuffed full by his manhood.

His dirty talk continued, and so did the swipes and pumps of his skilled fingers between your legs. Your head was swimming, your vision blurred, which made it impossible to determine exactly where he was touching you or how he was moving the pads of his fingers, but what you knew was that it was good. That it was stealing your breath away and guiding you right to the verge of an orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum," you informed him. Meanwhile, Pedro crawled down your body swiftly and replaced his thumb on your clit with his lips, sucking and kissing the nub until, with one final, sharp thrust into your core, you were pushed over the edge and came with a soft yell.

"Oww…" you mewled, trapping Pedro's head with your legs, which you clamped tightly.

"Good girl… That's it, just let it go… Don't forget to breathe… That's right, breathe for me…"

Your body moved as though you were floating above the rippling surface of the ocean, the tides softly cradling you while Pedro tenderly touched you through your high.

"Pedro…" you whispered, grabbing the silk sheets beneath you with both hands.

"Just feel it… It's good, isn't it?"

You reached for his head to pull at his strands and transmit the inexplicable feelings inside your body, but Pedro just snatched your wrists and planted them on top of your stomach.

"Shh… Just breathe…"

"Pedro," you uttered, wriggling your hands beneath his grasp, making him raise his eyebrows.

"What is it?"

"I want you. Please. Please, fuck me."

His features shifted, and with a chuckle, he slowly climbed on top of you again.

"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, mhm? Feeling a little greedy?" Twisting a strand around his index finger, Pedro kissed you right next to your ear.

"Please," you repeated, wrapping your legs around his hips.

"Y/n?"

"Yes."

Your face gleamed with anticipation, which was so endearing that his heart stumbled in his chest. Yet there was something he had to inquire about before he could listen to his throbbing cock with his whole heart and claim what he wanted so badly.

"How old are you?"

Your chin jutted forward, a faint crease forming on your forehead. "Twenty-nine, why?"

"Jesus…" He had almost expected, rather feared, a number obscenely young, but twenty-nine was far worse than what he had hoped when he had seen you for the first time.

"You're young," Pedro sighed, cupping your face, his aged hand stroking your soft skin.

"And?"

"Too young."

Urgency flared in your eyes, your heels digging into his lower back. "No. I want it, Pedro, please. It can't be that bad, I – "

"I'm 21 years older than you."

Pedro wasn't seriously considering backing away now, if he was being honest with himself. He might be irresponsible and horrible for it, but his own selfish desires to be buried inside you overshadowed his nagging conscience. Hell, perhaps he hadn't demanded to know your age earlier for that very reason. Maybe he simply hadn't wanted to know the ugly truth. And even now, he couldn't walk away and leave someone as pretty and appealing as you in his bed. Yet it would feel good to hear you beg just a little longer, so that this critical voice inside his head was at least a little less noisy, believing that he wasn't corrupting you but rather doing you a favor by giving in to your wants and needs. After doing the math, you stubbornly tautened your face muscles and arched off the bed, putting your chest on perfect display. Jesus… As if he could have ever walked away.

"I don't care. I still want it. Please. I'm twenty-nine, I can make those choices. And I want you to fuck me. Please, Pedro. Please."

You were begging so lovely that Pedro was this close to denying you your wishes one last time. His dick was painfully hard against the restraints of his pants, though, and the idea of finally taking himself out, and not only that but also feeding you his cock, was simply too bewitching. So, Pedro adjusted you on your back, parting your legs a little wider and placing your hands on the bed on either side of your head.

"Alright. I'm gonna fuck you. Probably gonna go to hell for it, but whatever…"

You giggled softly at that, which Pedro rewarded with a teasing bite on your chin. Then he reached for the bedside table, opened the top drawer, and grabbed one of the plastic packages he stored there along with his reading glasses and some tissues.

"I'm on the pill," it suddenly burst out of you, making Pedro's hand slow down in the air. "I promise. We can go raw."

His forehead wrinkled, and he put the condom down on the mattress right next to you.

"Sweetheart, I –… No. No, we're not gonna go raw."

"Why?" you asked, sounding almost offended. "You don't trust me?"

"I trust you. I just – it would be wrong."

"Why?" you hissed, lips compressed, which caused Pedro to gently trace along your cheekbone. He felt somewhere between amused and annoyed by your mulishness and eagerness to feel him without any separation, but most importantly, he had to calm you and convince you that it would be foolish to go without protection.

"I don't wanna risk anything. You're so young – "

"So that's what this is about?" you whispered.

"No. I don't know. I just wanna make sure nothing bad is gonna happen. You're on the pill, that's great, but we're not gonna go raw. We're only doing this 100 percent safely."

"But – "

"I said no," Pedro said, his voice a little louder, laced with authority now. "I only want what's best for you."

You growled something incomprehensible but didn't speak up again while Pedro's eyes wandered to the condom.

"We don't have to do anything at all if that's what you want. Your choice."

"No!" you quickly protested, hands flying to his broad shoulders. "No, I want it. I want it either way."

"Okay," Pedro murmured and finally picked up the package again.

He undid his trousers, shoved them down his legs along with his boxers, and inaudibly chuckled at the way you licked over your lips. Then he opened the condom with deft fingers, throwing the plastic on the nightstand before sliding the rubber over his manhood. You barely saw anything of him except for the rough outline, but as Pedro settled between your legs, his length slapped against your tummy, giving you an idea of his thickness.

"Pedro…" you muttered under your breath, your index finger tracing the veins on his forearm.

"It's okay… We're gonna make it fit, I promise."

He wasn't seriously concerned about working himself inside you. You were more than well prepared for him, had been drenching his hand with your juices, and he was positive that a little bit of sweet whispering in your ear would put you at ease quickly. Still, he needed you to trust him with your whole heart while you showed yourself from your most vulnerable side, opening up to him and allowing him to see and feel every last inch of you.

"Can I – can I touch it?"

The corners of Pedro's mouth lifted. He carefully took your hand and brought it to his thick cock, helping you form a fist and glide it up and down his shaft.

"It's so big," you panted, looking down between your bodies, but you couldn't see much in the darkness.

"Don't worry your pretty head about it. It's gonna fit. I'm gonna go slowly and make sure it won't hurt."

You nodded slowly, still unable to take your eyes off his center until Pedro raised your chin with his finger.

"Are you ready, babygirl?"

"Yes," you replied, determinedly staring back at him while Pedro replaced your hand around his cock with his and trailed the tip along your folds, giving your clit some extra attention, which made you jolt.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" Pedro chuckled and notched his tip against your entrance. Shit, he really was big, and right now, you were all cramped and tense, your pussy barely letting in his tip.

"Relax for me, sweetheart," he demanded, carefully circling your clit to make your muscles loosen.

"I don't want it to hurt," you whispered, squeezing his arm while Pedro soothingly kissed your hairline.

"Shh… I know. I know, baby. You tell me to stop and I stop. I mean it. If it hurts, if it feels uncomfortable, or if you change your mind, you tell me so. But I can't say that it's not gonna hurt a little bit. Do you still want me to go on?"

"Y-Yes," you claimed with no reluctance, brushing a sweaty strand of hair out of your face. After spending another minute rubbing your clit, Pedro whispered some sweet nonsense in your ear while thrusting his hips forward. This time, it worked a lot better, and within a few seconds, he was halfway inside you. You drew a sharp breath through your teeth, clutching his bicep firmly, but you didn't stop him.

"Is that okay?" Pedro asked, just to make sure.

"Yes. Just – hurts a little. But it's okay."

"When did you last sleep with someone?" he wanted to know, not just because he was genuinely interested, but also because it was a good distraction from the faint sting in your core while he fed you more of his cock.

"Like… half a year ago, maybe?" you breathed, sweat gathering on your focused brow.

"That's okay… you just need a little more time to warm up."

Not long after, Pedro was finally sheathed fully inside you, the hair curling at his base touching your pussy. His head was spinning, little flashes sparkling in his view at how tight and warm you felt. He could have come on the spot, he was certain, though he couldn't fully let the pleasure consume him, as he first needed to check on you.

"Talk to me, sweetheart… Are you okay? Look at me."

Your eyes set on him, though there was a dense haze over your vision, like you weren't fully there.

"Yes, Pedro…" you muttered nonetheless, clenching around him so hard that Pedro pinched his eyes shut.

"Please move," you then added, shuddering as a reaction to his brushes over your bundle of nerves.

"Are you sure? How do you feel, mhm? Does it still hurt?"

"Not much. I just… I wanna feel it."

Although he was still hesitant to completely let go, Pedro pulled away a little and then thrust his cock back inside, attentively watching you for your reactions. You moaned lowly, lids shutting, but he couldn't track any pain or discomfort in your features, which was why he settled into a slow but steady rhythm of sliding in and out of you.

"You're so – big, Pedro," you hummed after a while, your brow glistening with a thick layer of sweat, but your eyes a bit clearer now.

"Can you feel it right here? Am I all the way up here, baby?" Pedro connected his flat palm with your lower belly, applying some force to find out whether he was actually kissing and stimulating your insides like he had intended.

"Y-Yes… I think so," you howled, hauling up your hips, broken gasps leaving your throat. It provoked Pedro to reach for one of the pillows next to your head and slip it underneath your pelvis, which would change the angle and perhaps make it even more pleasurable for you.

"Is that good like that?" he questioned, but merely got a euphoric whine as an answer.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, but I'm not gonna last long…" Pedro mumbled after a while, pacing the movements of his finger around your clit. "You feel so fucking good, I can't – can't help it, baby, I'm sorry."

Pedro's eyes were squeezed shut, excitement tangible in every line and crease across his face. His muscles were coiled and constricted, ready to loosen and limber up, his nerves already prickling like they knew exactly what was coming. You didn't reply, too focused on rolling your hips in accordance with his thrusts, which caused Pedro to address you again.

"You're gonna cum again, baby, I promise. I'm gonna make you cum again, but I – shit, I gotta – "

You took him in so wonderfully, it robbed him of the words bubbling in the back of his throat as well as his ability to speak in general. His hips snapped forward faster now, crashing into yours with a quiet smacking sound, which made your eyes roll back in your head.

"I'm close," you cried out, grabbing the wrist of his right hand, which was drawing messy patterns over your bundle of nerves.

Pedro's body was rippling with joy, the anticipation of reaching his apex at the same time as you sounding intoxicating in his head. Right now, he even regretted using that damn condom since he couldn't get over the idea of filling you up to the brim, but his conscience surely wouldn't have allowed it, and besides, he would have felt guilty afterward.

Pedro lowered his head, kissing up your neck and inhaling your scent while his thrusts became even faster, though also a lot more unrhythmical and irregular. But his finger remained focused, rubbing your clit in tight, firm circles. He interpreted each shallow gasp of yours as a sign that he was on the right track, and when your head fell back into the cushions at last, Pedro let go as well.

"Fuck…" he groaned, feeling his cock spill cum into the condom while you spasmed and throbbed around him. Your perfect, warm walls that had already hugged him so beautifully for the past minutes felt even more exhilarating around him, and Pedro just wished he could make this moment last forever.

"Ohh. Yes, fuck – " you whimpered, lashes fluttering and your mouth agape.

When he felt that his balls were empty, he glared at your face, his own lips curling as he took in your patchy, flushed cheeks that looked blazing hot.

"Do you even know how perfect you feel, babygirl? I don't wanna pull out, shit."

"Then don't. Pull out," you laughed softly, grabbing the side of his face as Pedro kissed you slowly.

"Jesus Christ… The prettiest, most gorgeous…"

He didn't specify what exactly he was referring to, but it didn't matter. Whatever words followed in your mind, they certainly wouldn't be wrong as he relished just about any part of your body. His dick twitched again, causing your sensitive walls to quiver around him and your throat to produce a quiet wheeze.

Although he much regretted doing so, Pedro cautiously withdrew, pulled back, peeled off the used condom, and threw it into the trash can beside his bed. Something within him stirred in the best way possible at the view before him as he shifted his gaze back to you, your sprawled-out hair, the look of sheer adoration and satisfaction on your face, and your intertwined fingers resting on your stomach. Pedro wanted to scoop you up in his arms more than anything, hold you, and shower you with kisses. He wasn't supposed to feel that way about a woman twenty years younger than him, especially one he had just met for the very first time. But one couldn't shut up their feelings, right? And adoration was probably the word that best summed up the turmoil raging inside his chest right now.

"How about I get a washcloth now and get you cleaned up?"

Pedro laid down next to you, absent-mindedly caressing your skin while you cleared your throat.

"Okay, Pedro…"

He was gone just for a minute, wetting a towel with warm water, and then returned to the bedroom. You had turned onto your side, but at his sight, you rolled onto your back again, expectantly spreading your thighs for him.

"I'm gonna be careful… Gonna be kind to your sweet, sore pussy."

He was right, you instinctively flinched at the first contact with the rough material, but Pedro ended your protest with an arm snaked around your waist, effectively holding you down while he wiped your cunt clean with the most sensitive care in the world. He only briefly cleaned the skin around your clit and avoided directly touching your nub.

When he was done, the towel wasn't so warm anymore, and Pedro softly squeezed your hip as he crawled back to the end of the bed.

"I'm gonna be right back. Don't move an inch." Though he doubted that you even could if you had wanted to, Pedro waited for your slight nod, then rushed to the bathroom to put the washcloth in the basket for his dirty laundry.

Walking back into the bedroom, he whistled a familiar tune that had been stuck in his head since his visit to the bar, but he stopped at once when he heard a sniffle coming from the bed.

"Y/n?"

He hurried to the edge of the bed and sat down, his eyes flying open at the sight of your tears. Shit, what had happened? Were you in pain? Had he hurt you? Had he crossed a line he wasn’t aware of? Had he been careless with you?

"Hey, what's wrong? Y/n, look at me, c'mon… What's going on?" Pedro suppressed the urge to grab your face, not wanting to make anything worse, so he just took your hand instead and squeezed it reassuringly.

"Please talk to me, sweetheart. Is there anything I did wrong? Are you in pain?"

You rapidly shook your head, which made Pedro's heart feel a little lighter. Still, you wouldn't stop crying, even hiccupping occasionally while trying to blink away the tears flooding your eyes.

"N-No… I – I just…" Your voice broke midsentence, your lower lip quivering as Pedro tried to make sense of the scene unfolding in front of him. Something had upset you, but what could it possibly be? Had he said something?

"What is it, baby?" Pedro repeated, lifting your frail hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

"You – Are you doing this all the time?"

He needed a moment to understand what you were referring to, let alone what you were implying. Once he did, the area around his eyes softened, and he slowly lowered your hand.

"You mean going home with women?" he asked, just to be certain.

You nodded and weakly wiped the wetness from your cheeks.

"Oh, sweetheart…" Pedro whispered and couldn’t help himself but lean in and kiss your hairline.

"You – You're an actor. You're in films, and you – you have this apartment, so you – you bring lots of women here, right? And you're – you're gonna throw me out and – and find the next woman to take home tomorrow."

Pedro's heart melted a little at your rapid rambling, and he wished for nothing more than to silence you with a kiss to stop your nonsense. You couldn't have been further from the truth.

"Baby…" Pedro cut you off and cupped your cheek in his large palm. "No. Stop saying such things."

"But it's true, isn't it? I didn't – I didn't… think."

"I'm not gonna throw you out. And I don't want you to go," Pedro uttered while climbing onto the bed beside you, hauling up the blanket so that the two of you could slip underneath. "I thought I made that clear."

You still observed him with wide, glossy eyes, although the tears had stopped streaming down your face.

"No, I'm not bringing women here every weekend. I've had one-night stands before, but that was a long time ago, and it's definitely not what I've had in mind for you."

He gently poked you in the side, then pulled you against his chest, cradling your head while feeling your hair give way to his fingers.

"Really?" you mumbled. "What did you have in mind for me?"

"Oh, little one…" Pedro sighed, almost feeling apologetic about how wrong you had been about all of this. How badly you had misjudged his intentions with you. You poor thing had probably raked your brain, contemplating at what point during the night he was going to kick you out and whether he would at least call you an Uber.

No, you were going to stay here. Until the morning, and then hopefully a bit longer. And then he would ask for your number and call you a little later. Screw the three-day rule. Maybe the two of you could grab a coffee in the afternoon and walk around Central Park, given that it would be a warm spring day tomorrow.

"I have a lot of things in mind for you," he whispered and dragged your hand to his lips once more. "And they definitely don't involve kicking you out, baby."

"Really?" you muttered, your eyes sparkling in the dark and somehow lighting up the whole room.

"Yes. If it were up to me, I would wait a really long time for the getting-out-of-here part…"

You giggled quietly, wiping your cheeks with the remnants of your tears, which fortunately weren't followed by new ones.

And Pedro smiled. The turmoil in his stomach eased.

You hadn't contradicted him, which meant that you didn't desire to flee from him either.

Sure, he would have to talk to you about the whole being-a-famous-actor thing. But everything in its own time…

Five months later

Pedro had felt your uneasiness all day.

It had started at breakfast, when you hadn't stopped playing with the handle of your cup even long after it had been empty. You were a nervous thing at times, but never like this, especially when there was no reason.

Your restlessness had spread through the whole day, Pedro patiently waiting for you to give him a hint or even explicitly address the elephant in the room, but you hadn't made a single allusion.

To be honest, he wouldn't have expected you to speak up on your own, since it was mostly Pedro in your relationship who took care of problems or initiated clarifying talks, but he had hoped for at least something to work with.

When Pedro and you sat on the couch in the evening, you nervously sipping on a cup of tea while he went through some lines, he just had to open his mouth. Otherwise, his brain might explode and those weren't good conditions to get those damn scripts into his head. Besides, he seriously worried that something was nagging at you, or that he had done something to hurt you, which he obviously wanted to avoid at all costs.

"Sweetheart," Pedro whispered, his voice low as he wanted you to be as calm as possible in your stressed state of mind.

"Yes?" you murmured equally quietly, raising your lips from the edge of the mug.

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

Pedro sighed and put down the paper sheets, feeling positive that this might take a bit longer. "You're nervous today. You can't sit still."

"I – " you began, but he shut you up by raising his hand.

"No. Don't lie to me. And don't try to fool me. I know you, and I know there's something on your mind. And I want you to tell me."

You tilted your head in torment, your bottom lip shivering dangerously.

"N-No… you… you don't," you whimpered, which made Pedro's whole demeanor shift.

Swiftly, he reached for the side of your head and rubbed your temple with his thumb.

"Hey… it's okay, it's alright, sweetie. Of course, I want you to tell me. I got you, you know that."

"But you – " you stammered, gaze dropped to your feet. "If you – if you knew, you wouldn't want to know."

"What do you mean?" His brow creased in confusion, but instead of giving him a reply, you just shook your head repeatedly.

"Talk to me, y/n. Whatever it is, I'm here for you. You can tell me anything."

Determinedly, you wiped over your eyes and swallowed the lump in your throat.

"I… I meant to tell you for a while. I promise. I'm so – I know I should've told you sooner. Or just – I shouldn't have done it at all."

Now, he really was curious, since he couldn't imagine what you, his perfect, innocent, sweet girl, could have possibly done wrong. He was sure that nothing you might tell him now could upset him, not when you were looking up at him with those puppy eyes anyway.

"Okay. Go on."

"I'm sorry. For doing it and for – for waiting so long to tell you."

Pedro nodded, exhaling deeply. "It's okay. Just tell me what it is."

"I… The night that we met."

You stopped, waiting for him to react. As if he would ever forget that night. It had been one of the best evenings in his life, the very reason he was sitting here with you so happily.

"Yes. What about it?"

"I didn't tell you the truth exactly. I lied to you."

Although Pedro was happy about you finally articulating yourself and giving him the much-needed information, he stumbled over the word lied. He hated when you lied to him, and he just couldn't imagine what the hell you were speaking of.

"Lied about what?"

You nervously sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes still fixed in front of you rather than on his face.

"I'm sorry. I… I know it's bad. I acted like I didn't know you. But I did."

The two of you were surrounded by a heavy silence while the words sank in. His mind automatically replayed the whole interaction: your conversation by the counter, the drive to his apartment, the intimate moments you had shared beneath the covers… Now, he was watching everything from a different angle. Of course, Pedro couldn't remember every word the two of you had exchanged, but some phrases had stood out to him as they had been the seeds of where you were now in your relationship. Knowing that you had in fact been fully aware of who you were talking to changed some of those memories. Just a little.

"Okay…" Pedro uttered, squeezing your hand tightly. "You knew who I was. From the beginning?"

You nodded, still avoiding his gaze, which felt like a punch in his stomach.

"Tell me what happened. When did you decide to lie?"

After clearing your throat and blinking a few tears away, you began speaking slowly at first.

"When… When I picked up your wallet, I didn't know who you were. I swear. But then you – you turned around and I recognized you. I was about to say something, but then – I don't know, I – you looked so calm and – and happy. And natural. And kind. And I thought that if I said something about knowing you, you might switch into that professional mode, and I just didn't want that. I wanted you to be you."

"Baby…" Pedro sighed, but before he could express his disbelief, you continued, the words tumbling out like they had been stuck in your throat for a long time.

"I'm so sorry. I know that it was bad, but you know, I didn't expect – that any of this would happen. I thought we would just talk and then – then you bought me that drink and suddenly we were in your car. I knew I should've told you, but… but the right moment just didn't come. It happened so fast, and when we laid in bed that night, I knew that I made a mistake, but I was too scared to tell you. I thought you would hate me if I said it."

At last, your eyes found his, and the pain glimmering in your dark pupils was almost too much for Pedro to bear. How was he supposed to be angry with you? It was more than obvious how badly you had been feeling and still felt, and that you regretted lying with your whole heart.

"You've been carrying all that with you? You thought I wouldn't wanna be with you if you told me?"

"Yes," you murmured, nodding slightly.

"And why did you decide to tell me now?"

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for more confessions.

"I don't know. I've wanted to tell you for so long. After things got serious, I promised myself I would talk to you when we went to that Italian place for my birthday. But… But everything was so beautiful and I had the best birthday of my life, so I didn't want to ruin it. It just – It became too much, and I just – I thought about it every day, and I knew I finally had to say it. Before this stupid secret would kill me…"

For a moment, neither of you said anything, though Pedro was still holding your hand, his gaze lingering on your lips.

"Do you hate me now?" you asked shyly, as though you feared his answer.

"You really think I could ever hate you?"

Shrugging your shoulders, you longingly gripped his fingers, too afraid for him to let go.

"I love you. And that's not gonna change."

"But I – I lied to you. Our relationship is based on a lie," you whimpered, close to tears again. Therefore, he pulled you in for a hug, sliding his hands down your spine as he pressed your face against his collarbone.

"No, it's not… Maybe I was a bit more fond of you in the beginning just because you made me feel so normal and I could just be myself with you. You had no expectations. But then, I fell for you because of who you are. I didn't fall in love with you because I thought you didn't know who I was. I specifically fell in love with you because of how you saw me. How you treated me, how you gave your heart into our relationship, how you let me see you."

You sniffled softly, and Pedro combed his fingers through your hair.

"Baby, I've spent the past five months with you, and they were the best five months of my life. You think I care about something that you didn't tell me during the first twenty-four hours since we met? You think the happiness of my past five months just doesn't count because of one lie? You think it's just gonna make me forget those weeks with you?"

"I'm sorry," you repeated, pressing a kiss through his shirt against his chest.

"I know. I believe you. But I love you no matter what. I fell in love with you, baby, for who you are. Maybe – yes, maybe it made the start easier because I was just extraordinarily interested in you since you treated me so normal, so… maybe I should even feel grateful. That you acted that way and made me want to get to know you. 'Cause look where it got us."

You laughed quietly, tilting your head up at him while Pedro draped both arms around you, holding you firmly against his chest.

"I'm still sorry. And I swear, I'm not gonna lie to you again. Never."

"I know. But I want you to stop feeling bad about it. I forgive you. Besides, I told you all about my job within the first day of knowing you. So don't say our relationship is built on a lie, sweetheart. Don't be silly."

He tapped his fingers tenderly on your bicep, inhaling the scent of your hair, while you finally, feeling a heavy weight lift from your heart, relaxed completely in his grasp.

"Thank you, Pedro. I love you so much. And I – I don't wanna lose you."

"You're not gonna lose me. Never. I'm not gonna let that happen."

Although the problem that had been gnawing at you for weeks was finally resolved, you remained flush against Pedro's body for the next hour. Not because you needed more comfort or solace, but simply because it felt too good to let go.

"You look nice."

You smiled and chuckled squeezing Pedro's hand twice before kissing his cheek.

"Thank you. So do you."

You slightly crouched against his shoulder burying your face in his jacket that smelled a little different but you were still able to make out his familiar scent.

"Are you nervous, honey?" he instantly asked sensing how you absolutely couldn't sit still in the car seat and wrapped his arm around you.

"A little…," you said but it sounded like a question. "Don't be."

"That's easy to say," you pouted poking him in the side.

"It's just a concert and we're guests. Nothing's gonna happen, we'll just be in the audience and have a good time."

His words gave you comfort but when your gaze dropped to your hand the nervous fluttering in your stomach returned.

"But… I mean they will notice this, right?"

Pedro grabbed your hand determinedly and pressed kisses to one finger after the other starting at your little finger and giving a special amount of attention to your ring finger that wore a breathtakingly beautiful silver ring that was both glamourus and elegant. Your engagement ring.

"They might. But there's no need to worry about it. I love you and I'm ready to share it with the world. What could possibly go wrong, mhm?"

You had turned away from him but Pedro gently took hold of the side of your face capturing your attention.

"I don't know. I really don't, I guess it's just general anxiety."

He smiled softly pulling you closer to him to kiss your forehead.

"Oh baby," he whispered so quietly that no one in the car except you could possibly hear these words. "You know I got you, right? I won't leave your side for a second. Except maybe when you go to the bathroom but if you want to I'll wait right by the door and I'm not even kidding, okay?"

You couldn't help but scoff and in a matter of seconds you gave him a genuine smile. That was the thing about Pedro Pascal. He never failed to make you laugh and brighten your mood. He was your safe space, your comfort person and when his thumb brushed over the back of your slightly shaking hand you actually believed him. He was all that mattered after all. And now the two of you were engaged and why shouldn't the world know it as well?

"I love you," you whispered and then leaned in for a kiss on his mouth.

"I love you too, y/n. And I promise you we'll have a good time tonight. If you're not gonna enjoy the concert I'll make your night good afterwards."

His crooked smirk indicated what he was alluding to and you felt the blood rushing in your cheeks.

"Pedro…," you whispered fearing that the driver might have heard him but as if he didn't have a care in the world he kissed you right next to your ear which made you giggle and feel like a teenager on her first date of her life.

"I'll make it up to you if you have a really bad time. But… actually I think I'm also gonna make it up to you if you have a semi good time. And maybe, just maybe also if you're gonna have a good time."

His hand was definitely resting too high on your thigh now and you shifted in your seat.

"Pedro. I don't think this is helping right now," you complained with a smile that gave your true feelings away.

Before he could answer you the car stopped and suddenly your heart pounded loudly in your chest again although Pedro had just been able to calm you. He immediately noticed the way you tensed and tightly gripped your hand.

"It's fine. It's gonna be fine, baby. It's just you and me and a bunch of other people."

You bit your lip raising your hand like you were going to punch him but then ran it over his arm instead.

"Shut up. Oh and by the way, I swear to god if you're gonna get drunk tonight and embarrass us both AND basically leave me alone I'm gonna be so angry."

You started to climb out of the car and heard him following close behind.

"Don't worry, honey. You know what they say about alcohol and erectile dysfunction…"

Now you couldn't help but smirk back at him while you adjusted your dress and he straightened up next to you.

"Have I told you already how pretty you look?" he asked while placing his arm around your waist.

"Yes. But it's nice to hear it again."

~~~~~~~~~~

Everything happened very fast.

You were confronted with what seemed like a thousand cameras taking pictures of Pedro and you all at once and now it was obvious that the little secret the two of you had been carrying around for the last two months was out. Someone would surely notice the identical rings on both his and your left hand and one didn't have to be a genius to connect the dots. But who cared? Pedro was right, the love between the two of you was the most important thing and you wouldn't hide it anymore.

Once at the door, it was a matter of seconds before you were waved in, then you handed over your jackets at the cloakroom and were then led into the avenue by a woman in a black dress.

"There is food and drinks outside if you leave the hall through the main door. I will lead you to your seats now and then you'll have about… 30 more minutes until the show starts."

Pedro nodded friendly and squeezed your hand every now and then until you arrived at your seats in the second row.

"Wow, these are really good seats," it broke out of you and the woman gave you a wide smile.

"I should hope so. Now, I'm in a real hurry but I wish the two of you a lovely night and… congratulations."

She winked mischievously and at first you were too stunned to speak let alone thank her and only when she was already gone you stared at Pedro.

"Did you hear that?"

He nodded and opened the buttons of his jacket. "Very good eyes."

Then the two of you sat down admiring and examining the concert hall while also taking a look at the celebrities that were already there. Of course you spotted a lot of familiar faces like Paul Rudd and Anya Taylor-Joy so the next minutes were filled with chatter and laughter and you had to admit that you were having a very good time.

You especially enjoyed going crazy about Meryl Streep who had been an inspiration to you for so long. And your boyfriend, no, your fiancée would be doing a skit with her on Sunday. You really couldn't have been more proud of Pedro and didn't move an inch away from him the whole time no matter how clingly or ridiculous the two of you might look.

Pedro didn't seem to mind at all which didn't surprise you as he was the touchiest person you had ever met. His love language was physical touch and he didn't waste an opportunity to rest his head on your shoulder or toy with your fingers, especially when he got excited or nervous.

When the concert was about to start the people began to find their seats and Pedro and you finally sat down again as well.

"How are you, baby?" he asked stroking your back with his left hand.

"I'm very good, Pedro. But I want you to have a good time now without worrying about me. I'm good, really. And I'm even better when you're enjoying yourself so please do that now."

He lifted the corner of his mouth leaning with his forehead against your arm for a brief moment before adjusting in his seat. "I will."

And as it turned out, he did exactly that. The show was opened by Jimmy Fallon and while your personal highlight was Arcade Fire's performance of 'Heroes' Pedro absolutely lost it during Robyn's and David Byrne's rendition of 'Dancing on my own'.

You could only giggle and feel the butterflies in your tummy going insane while watching him record the performance with so much devotion that he almost seemed to tear up. How could you possibly love this man next to you more?

Towards the end of the show the two of you stopped sitting down and instead gave yourself to the music moving and dancing as if you were the only two people in this room. Your heart skipped a beat when Pedro held your hand during 'This Must Be The Place' toying with your engagement ring all while giving you these chocolate brown eyes of his that never failed to take you out.

If happiness could be defined by a moment it would definitely be this one, you thought and when the concert was over you still felt like you were on a cloud.

Your head was buzzing and Pedro didn't exactly do anything to help you leave your high.

"THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME," he screamed in your ear shaking your body by your arms.

"I KNOW," you answered equally excited and almost crushed under his weight when he threw himself in your arms. The two of you giggled and raved about the musical acts like teenage girls while leaving the building which turned out to take quite a long time as you were stopped by familiar faces every few seconds.

When you finally stepped out into the cold it was long past midnight and you greedily inhaled the fresh air feeling overwhelmed with the sudden silence. Well, it was still New York City and even at this time the air was filled with the sound of cars and chatter but your dizzy head seemed to finally get a moment of peace.

Pedro seemingly was swimming in his own thoughts as well, a dreamy wide smile on his face but his grip around your waist was firm. When the two of you entered the car, leaving the lights of the cameras of the papparazzi behind he clenched your hand.

"I fucking saw Robyn, y/n. And Nirvana. And Arcade Fire. What the fuck?"

You put your seatbelt on slowly feeling how your soul fully returned to your body and nestled up against Pedro's side.

"It was so amazing. I think I'm in love with St Vincent."

"That's okay but only because I think I'm in love with her too."

He held you the whole car ride back to your hotel. You exchanged a few words and expressions of excitement but the both of you seemed to be busy processing the concert at the same time. So a huge amount of the time you stared ahead of you replaying this incredibly evening and somehow trying to comprehend that it had actually happened.

Only when you arrived at the hotel did Pedro's attention shift again because while you walked through the lobby his hand on your hip traveled a little lower and you blushed nervously looking up to him.

"I tend to keep my promises, babygirl," he whispered against your hair and you cursed yourself for not even caring about the fact that someone could see you or even worse, take a picture of the two of you snuggled up like this. Instead your throbbing heat seemed to take control over your mind and your glossy eyes searched for his.

"I need you, baby," you said clenching his white shirt tightly to show him just how much.

"I know. And I'm gonna give you what you need. Trust me."

It wouldn't have been necessary for him to say this because obviously you knew what he was capable of making you feel. And yet his thoughts enhanced your desire for him even more and the last 20 meters to your hotel room felt like an eternity.

Once he had pulled you inside the room with him he quickly locked the door and then started to devour you like a wild animal. His lips were on yours, his hands all over your body and he was quick to press his knee between your legs knowing your body so damn well.

You wore a silk dress that revealed quite the amount of skin but of course it wasn't enough for Pedro so he slipped the straps of your dress over your shoulders pulling it down until your bare chest was revealed.

"You're telling me you didn't wear a fuckin' bra all night?" he growled against your forehead pressing you closer to the wall he had pushed you against.

"Pedro," you whined your arms entangled behind his back.

He smirked smugly enjoying the way he had you wrapped around his little finger. You were so incredibly responsive to his touch and the sound of his voice and he knew that not the largest movie role could give him a bigger ego-boost than your little sighs and whimpers that were only meant for him.

He kissed his way down to the swell of your breasts gently burying his teeth in your flesh so deep that he could feel you twitch but not so much so that he would seriously hurt you. When he started to take care of your nipples you threw your head back feeling grateful for the wall behind you and buried your hands in his hair that started to look more and more messy and curly the longer the two of you made out.

Not wanting to neglect your left breast his big hand took care of your other bud and enclosed it between his fingers which made you rock your core against his leg between your thighs.

"Pedro," you sighed again feeling almost too weak on your knees to stand but luckily he sensed it and steadied you by holding you by your waist.

"I know babygirl. I'm gonna make you feel so fuckin' good. 'Cause you deserve it. I love you so much and I want you to feel it."

This was probably the clostest to heaven you would ever reach because both his mouth and his hand was occupied with exploring your chest with so much delicacy that you felt like you were the most precious thing Pedro had ever held in his arms.

That was one of the attributes about him that you had fallen in love with first. The way he made his opposite feel as though they were the only and most important person for him. And he was especially good at doing so while devouring your body.

"You're so fucking pretty like this, baby. I don't know what I did to deserve all of this."

You widened your eyes because the question was what did you do to deserve this?

"I need you Pedro," you whimpered, seriously close to crying not only because of the gentleness of his words but also because you were so desperate to be closer to him, seeing and tasting every part of him while being utterly consumed by him.

"Patience, y/n."

Your nails lightly scratched over his shoulders hinting at the fact that you weren't in the mood to wait right now but he placed a messy kiss on your collarbone while soothingly caressing the side of your chest.

"I know, I know. Just lemme have a little more time with you, mhm? Afterwards I'll make you come as many times as you want, okay?"

You nodded because what else were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to deny him when he looked at you with these puppy eyes? You would probably agree to anything he was asking of you right now.

And so Pedro continued his explorations on your abdomen kissing and biting every inch of your skin. His big hands kneaded your flesh and rolled your buds between his fingers gifting you indescribable pleasure and if you hadn't been too fucked out already to articulate your words you probably would have repeatedly sighed his name over and over again.

His mouth additionally traced the outline of your breast and seeing this perfect man savouring you like you were the most beautiful and stunning creature he had ever laid his eyes on gave you more confidence than anything else in the world.

Soon, you had lost every sense for the passing time, he let go of you and guided you to the big bed in the middle of the room. Pedro gently pushed you on it but didn't immediately followed as he started to take off his shirt which he threw on the floor joining his jacket that he had already pealed off earlier. Then his pants followed and he eventually crawled, only wearing his boxers, on top of you.

You were mesmerized by his stunning body that you had seen more times than you could count and yet never failed to make you drool for him. His broad shoulders, the small waist and his muscular arms… Obviously he noticed the way you were staring and put a finger under your chin.

"Naughty girl…," he purred and then kissed you softly but pulled back way too soon.

"You're gonna let me eat that pussy?" he asked and you gulped feeling his hands on your hips. He was good at giving oral sex but you knew that in the kind of mood he was in tonight it would be sensational. Electrifying. You really were in for a ride.

Almost feeling scared of the reaction he would provoke in you you ran your hands through his hair.

"Yes, Pedro. Please," you whispered nevertheless and watched him make his way down your body.

He stopped at your stomach kissing the softness of your belly which made you giggle and then he pulled down your dress, took it off your body so the only thing separating him from what hid between your legs was your panties. He stroked your bare thighs looking at your body almost proudly as if he was dreaming about what would come now.

"Please. I really need it, Pedro, like really."

His eyes shot up to your face again and a smile formed on his face.

"Someone is a little impatient tonight."

You rolled your eyes though not entirely capable of hiding your inner peace.

"Someone is a teasing ass tonight."

That made him chuckle but he finally pealed off your underwear which you considered a success and you apprehensively pressed your legs together.

"You know you need to open your legs in order for me to make you feel good," he smirked gently and yet firmly parting your thighs. Then his eyes darkened at the sight of your pussy and you could hear his breath catching in his throat.

"Will you look at that…," he panted caressing the insides of your thighs. "The best fuckin' pussy I've ever tasted and smelled and touched."

The butterflies in your stomach were wakened once more and you blushed at his words. You couldn't believe that you had been anxious about him seeing, let alone eating your pussy at the start of your relationship just because your past partners had either not given you oral sex at all or expressed their dislike for it very clearly. But Pedro wasn't like them. He was absolutely crazy about making you come on his tongue and ever since you had let him dive between your thighs for the first time you realized what douchebags your exes had been.

You snapped back to reality when Pedro lowered his head and licked a strip from your hole up to your clit collecting your arousal and swallowing it with relish.

"For fuck's sake," he growled his eyes rolling back at your divine taste. "You're drippin', babygirl."

"Pedro, fuck… Please…," you whimpered already feeling like pudding beneath him.

This time he instantly followed your request, perhaps feeling addicted to your taste so much that he didn't care about teasing you anymore.

He wrapped his soft lips around your clit applying light pressure while circling his tongue around it, which was an intoxicating combination. Sometimes you believed that he knew your body better than you did because he seemed to know exactly where to touch you and when to go faster but if you slept with someone almost every day for more than 3 years you grew to know each other's likings and dislikings.

It didn't take you long until you realized that he was especially hooked tonight. He was always good, of course but tonight you felt like he was eating you alive. You wondered how he had the energy to get lost in you like this after having spent almost three hours dancing and exhausting himself at the concert but who were you to complain? It felt like he was trying to suffocate in your pussy and when he took your clit between his teeth to lightly nibble at it you let out a long whine.

"Fuckkkk," you whimpered gripping the bedsheets and feeling your toes curl.

"Ohh fuck, Pedro. S-So… fucking… good."

He smiled which you couldn't see and then started to circle your entrance with his pointer finger. His mouth didn't leave your clit for a second while he inserted his finger in you gently opening you up. He curled it just right and you choked on a moan.

"Please. Please, I need to…," you whined unable to finish the sentence but you honestly didn't know what you were even asking for.

"Yes, baby. I got you, you see? S'alright, I know what you need. Just listen to my voice and relax. I'll take care of you."

His voice was so soothing and mesmerizing that you allowed yourself to close your eyes. He really was taking care of you because minutes later you felt yourself getting closer to your orgasm. He kitten-licked your clit now getting the hood that covered your little nub out of the way so it was even more intense for you. In the way your body tensed and your muscles tightened he was able to see that you were about to burst so he became faster.

"You're gonna cum for me, y/n? Gonna soak my face?"

You could only nod too focused on not letting out a shriek that was definitely not appropriate for an entire hotel to be heard and dug your fingers into his broad shoulders.

"Then come. Give it all to me, c'mon."

It was truly magical how you reached your high right at his words and arched beneath him.

"FUCK," you cried out buckling your hips and uncontrollably shook while he licked you through it.

"S'right. That's a good girl…"

The intense orgasm completely took you out and you needed a moment to collect yourself but once you did you realized how his touch had started to feel overwhelming.

"Pedro…," you whispered pulling at his strong arms.

"Feelin' a little overstimulated?" he asked raising his head from your cunt.

"Yes. But I need you now, please. Need you inside of me."

Pedro was more than happy with your request and crawled up to you again so your faces were on the same level.

"Yeah, you do?" he asked with flashing eyes and you couldn't wait to feel filled by him any longer so you wrapped your legs around his waist and crossed them behind is ass.

"Please. I want you so badly."

He looked down and your eyes followed him to where he pulled his boxers down to reveal his cock that stood hard against his stomach. The precum on his tip looked tempting and you were just about to demand to suck him off when he wrapped a hand around his shaft dragging the tip through your folds.

You instantly forgot everything and his dick quite literally took hold of your actions and thoughts. When he circled your aching clit your eyes rolled back and now you really were completely fucked out and at his mercy.

"Pedro…," you whispered almost feeling pathetic for begging him all the time but you really needed him now and he just couldn't make you wait any longer. Fortunately he finally released you from the torment and started to push into you with the tip.

"That's it… Oh jesus christ…," Pedro sighed his face drawn in pleasure.

"Breathe, sweetheart," he reminded you as he saw you staring up to him with eyes round as coins. "You're so fuckin' amazing, y/n. And you feel so goddamn good around me."

He was only with the tip inside but you already felt like it wouldn't take a lot more to make you come again so you applied pressure to his ass gesturing him to push deeper so the two of you could orgasm at the same time.

"I'm not gonna last long, babygirl, I'm sorry," he grunted in your ear his hands groping your right breast.

"S'okay," you managed to press out. "I won't either."

Pedro smiled softly and left kisses on your jaw while picking up the pace of thrusting in you. He still didn't go as deep as he could fearing that he might hurt you as he wasn't exactly small but it was enough to drive him dangerously close to the edge after an embarrassingly short amount of time.

Pedro swiftly reached down between your legs to search for your clit and started to rub you in messy circles so he wouldn't burst before you.

"Are you close, honey?" he breathed and you felt his thrusts getting sloppier.

"Yes. M'close, m'so fuckin' close."

He pushed inside of you three more times while stimulating your clit and then you came. You shrieked loudly and the feeling of your pussy clenching around him made him burst as well. Pedro let out a deep growl, collapsed on top of you and you felt his cum filling you up to the brim.

"Oh jesus fuckin' christ…," he moaned and bruied his face in your neck.

You on the other hand were powerlessly sprawled out underneath him enjoying the way his weight pressed you down into the mattress and soothingly ran your hands through his locks.

"That was so good, baby," you whispered and kissed his sweaty hair.

He didn't answer you but you were familiar with the way he always needed a moment to collect himself after a crushing orgasm like this. So you decided to shower him with the love your felt for him that was so intense currently that it almost cut off your breathing.

"I love you, Pedro. So so much. And I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. I want you by my side all the time, forever."

That was the point where he lifted his head glancing at you with wet eyes.

"How did I deserve you?" he asked for the second time tonight pretending to break down and cry and you cradled his head.

"C'mere," you whispered gesturing him to crawl up to you and pulled him in for a kiss.

"Pedro?" you asked against his lips after a while.

"Mhm?" he spoke sounding just as exhausted as you felt.

"I'm so tired. Can we just clean up tomorrow?"

He gently bit you bottom lip and caressed your cheek. "Of course. Just wanna sleep now."

With these words he rolled off you but was quick to embrace you again by moving your body around so your head could rest on his chest. When his hand began to stroke your hair you almost started to pur like a cat but you didn't find out whether you did because you fell asleep before it could happen.

~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you woke up late the next day which wasn't a surprise considering the concert had ended at around 1 am and instead of sleeping you had fucked afterwards.

So it was almost noon when you opened your eyes and glanced at Pedro to your left who was still fast asleep. You decided that the two of you deserved a lazy morning like this and moved over to him so you could crouch against his upper body. The sticky feeling between your legs reminded you of how you both had been too lazy last night to clean yourselves up but you were still not eager to leave Pedro so you pushed the thought of going to the bathroom away and instead inhaled his scent greedily.

You were able to dooze away for a couple of minutes again but were woken up when Pedro moved next to you and you smiled as he opened his eyes into yours.

"Mhmmmm… what's the time?" he asked and yawned open-mouthedly.

"Almost 12."

He sighed, but made no attempt to get up, instead grabbing your waist so that your body crashed against his.

"I just wanna stay here," he mumbled his eyes closed but you poked him in the side.

"You have a rehearsal later, baby."

His lips formed a pout and he opened his left eye. "I can skip it."

You smirked and kissed his ear while crawling on top of him.

"Yeah you can. But then I'm really curious to see how you're gonna do tomorrow."

Pedro let out a frustrated hum and took hold of your waist. "You can jump in for me."

You had to laugh at his morning-dizziness that almost made him act like he was high and pressed kisses on his neck.

"No one will notice, right?"

He shook his head finally opening his eyes and smiled at you. "No. Because we're basically the same person 'cause we're getting married, you know?"

"Mhm, yes, I know."

You leaned down to kiss his nose while your hand caressed the side of his face.

"Y/n?"

"Yes?"

Pedro closed his eyes again breathing steadily while you spoiled his face and neck with kisses.

"Where do you wanna get married?"

You chewed on your bottom lip and thought about your answer for a few seconds.

"I haven't really thought about it yet to be honest. Have you?"

He shook his head slightly moving up in the bed so he could pull you closer to his chest.

"No, not really. But if you could choose right now, what place would you pick?"

"Mhmm… You know that I'm a big Italy fan, right? Just imagine it. Italian coast preferably in autumn so it's not too hot. And then our families and friends and we could go take a swim in the ocean at night." You laughed and pinched his cheek. "Or we could do a karaoke night."

Pedro rolled his eyes and grimaced which only made you giggle harder.

"Don't remind me of it. I really don't know why I agreed to do it for SNL. I just don't get why people are doing it, I mean someone has written the song and sang it, why are people now ruining it by giving us their drunk version of it?"

You pretended to frown and stroked the hair out of his face. "You're not gonna be drunk while perfoming it, are you?"

"Well maybe I should be. Ohhh fuck, y/n why have I agreed to this?"

Pedro buried his head in your neck and dramatically shook your body while you soothingly ran your hands over his naked back.

"Shhhh. You got this. I know you do. And you're not terrible when it comes to singing. You might not have the perfect timing, but…"

He interrupted you by lifting his head and showing you the middle finger. You quickly took hold of his hand pushing it against his chest and seriously looked at him.

"What I was saying was… You might not have the perfect timing, but I know that you're gonna do amazing, Pedro, because you're incredible. And you have time to practice today which brings me to the next important matter: We need to get up now."

He let out a disapproving cry and was quick to roll the two of you over so you were trapped underneath him.

"No," he whispered and narrowed his eyes at you. "I'm not finished with my morning routine yet."

You laughed out placing your hands on his shoulders. "Your morning routine?"

Pedro nodded with an important look on his face.

"Of course. Don't you know that it gives stability to have a morning ritual?"

You bit your lip with relish as you felt his hand traveling up your waist.

"Is that so? What is your morning ritual then?"

Pedro answered you with a deep kiss that completely cut off your air supply and left you breathless once he pulled away.

"Now I'm finished," he smirked and rolled off you.

~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the day was quite peaceful and eventless. Pedro ended up attending the rehearsal for the anniversary and returned to the hotel room when you had just started to read a book. His eyebrows were drawn together and dramatic as he was he dropped his head to his chest acting like he was crying.

"I messed up my entry a million times, y/n."

You put the book down stood up and pulled him into a hug. "Oh my love… I told you, the timing."

Pedro instantly pushed you away but couldn't hide the amusement on his face.

"Shut up. You don't know a thing about acting anyway," he prenteded to sulk and crossed his arms in front of his chest which made you laugh.

"How was it apart from your failure?" you then asked with flashing eyes. Pedro ignored your teasing and nodded while sitting down on the bed.

"It was good. I mean you know, I don't particulary enjoy karaoke but it was still fun. I was happy to see Marcello again and Sabrina was also very nice so, yeah. I think it's gonna be fine. I hope so."

"It will be fine, Pedro," you said insistently and truly meant it. "And even if you make a mistake it doesn't matter. This is the anniversary and it's supposed to be fun for everyone. No one's gonna care if you, I don't know, mess up the timing once or twice. Really."

He nodded again pulling you towards him by your hips until you stood between his legs.

"You're right. Somehow you're always right. How do you do it?"

You smirked and only now noticed how gorgeous he looked despite being exhausted from rehearsal.

"Keep talking, baby."

Pedro's hand were suddenly on your ass squeezing you softly which made your smile deepen. He was such a flirt and it sometimes drove you mad.

"Seriously though, we're gonna do what you wanna do tonight. I want you to relax. Even if it means watching an old film in bad quality on your iPad because you can't stream on Netflix on the hotel TV."

Pedro chuckled pushing you even closer to him until you lost your balance and landed on his lap.

"You're givin' me ideas, baby."

"If that's what you wanna do, let's do it."

And so the two of you actually spent the night watching 'Dirty Dancing' probably for the sixth time. You fell asleep once towards the end but woke up again before Pedro could even notice and then afterwards his hand on your thigh drove you insane but you didn't initiate anything as he was probably too tense and nervous to relax.

Tonight you went to bed early which you thought was exactly what the both of you needed and so you didn't fight the sleep creeping up on you as the sun hadn't even touched the horizon yet.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day Pedro woke up early which was no wonder considering how stressed he was about his SNL performance. You didn't mind being waken up by his restlessly shifting body and although you had problems keeping your eyes open you decided to get up as well while Pedro took on his bathrobe.

"When are Coco and Julia gonna be here?" you asked rubbing over your tired eyes.

"They said they would be at the hotel at 4 pm I think. But I'm gonna check again."

"Alright," you yawned and opened your phone answering a few messages.

The both of you were still very tired so you didn't exchange a lot of words, well-aware of the fact that you just needed a few minutes of silence so you could properly wake up until you were fully ready for the day.

Despite feeling so excited and nervous Pedro knew about your habits and granted you these peacful minutes before the two of you decided to have breakfast downstairs.

It turned out to be a relaxed and beautiful meal, sipping on your cappucino while the sun shone inside despite the cold weather. Yet you worriedly watched your fianée only taking small bites from his pancake which made you speak up at some point.

"Pedro, you have to eat. You're gonna need the energy."

"I know," he sighed tapping with his finger on the table. "But I feel like I'm too anxious."

That made you take his hand and you traced his tattoo just like you always did when you attempted to make him calm.

"There's no need to be scared, baby. You practiced the skits, you are so fucking talented and they're gonna help you with the words if you forget. And you know that all these people performing with you love you and they're gonna try and make you feel comfortable. And I don't know if that helps but I'll be in the audience and I'm gonna cheer for you."

Your words elicited a smile from him and he stared down to where your hands were locked.

"It helps. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Both your rings reflected the incoming sunrays and you watched them taking in their beauty. You felt amazed and excited every time your eyes fell upon the ring because it still was so surreal to be engaged to him. Not in a way that you felt appalled or rejecting but more in a state of disbelief. You had been dating him for more than three years now, getting to know every aspect of his personality and had grown to love him like you had never loved someone before. And now he was engaged to you because he claimed to enjoy your presence just as much as you did his. It was simply perfect.

"You're never gonna know 'cause I'll always be with you," you replied to his previous words and blared your teeth. "Oh and besides, another important point: You already hosted SNL and you were absolutely incredibly and so we know that you can do it."

"Yeah but do we…?" he scoffed lifting his eyebrows playfully.

"Yes we do. Just promise me that you'll try and have fun. Because then it's gonna be a success."

He nodded looking like he truly appreciated your words for once and thoughtfully moved his thumb to his mouth.

"Once again, I don't know how you always know what to say."

You leaned back in your chair crossing your arms in front of your chest and shrugged your shoulders.

"90 percent of the time I don't know either. Or let's say 80."

Pedro curved the corner of his lips glancing at you with those brown eyes that you wished you could sink into.

~~~~~~~~~~

Pedro and you spent the morning reading and listening to music as there simply wasn't enough time to really do something like going to the city. Then around 4 pm his stylists Julia und Coco arrived and started to take care of the both of you. It was always fun to have the two of them around and you didn't mind sitting still in your chair at all as you were getting well entertained.

You now wore a green gown and a matching scarf around your neck that highlighted your red lips. You looked elegant and classy, you found and had to smile when your pupils danced over your reflection in the mirror. Pedro was currently in the other room getting ready and you couldn't wait to see him all dressed up.

You had to be patient for another 30 more minutes until you heard steps coming closer and you sat up in your chair turning your head to the door to the other room.

When Pedro opened it your eyes lightened up and time seemed to be frozen for a brief moment. He looked handsome, like a literal dream.

Pedro wore a brown suit and a light brown seater underneath. The colours went perfectly with his hair and skin tone and you thought that you probably wouldn't get bored staring at him for the rest of your life. But now Pedro seemed to want to see something himself and gestured you to stand up.

"Let me take a look at you, honey." You rose up twirling for him while giving him a shy smile. Pedro's eyes softened and before you could register him coming closer his arms were around your back.

"You look fucking amazing. For god's sake, I don't know how to concentrate on anything that isn't you tonight."

You hid your face in his neck that smelled of his favourite perfume holding back tears of happiness.

"So do you, baby. You're gorgeous."

You got lost in time and only slowly pulled away from each other when Pedro's publicist cleared her throat.

"Sorry to interrupt. But we need to get going soon."

He pressed one last kiss to your cheek and then watched you proudly running his hands over your sides.

"Of course. I think we're ready."

Minutes later you found yourself in the car again next to your fiancée just like you had before the homecoming concert.

You simply couldn't take your eyes off him, he really was glowing tonight and the drive to the studio flew by. Outside you were greeted with even more flashing lights than two nights ago and you almost wanted to cover your eyes from the photographers.

Your heart pounded loudly being well-aware that your engagement would be obvious now at latest. The two of you proudly wore your rings and right now it seemed like every newpaper in the world would have a photo of you on their front pages tomorrow.

Pedro tightly held your hand and you weren't certain if he did it to comfort you or seek comfort from you but either way you were happy about it and ran your thumb over his knuckles. The two of you waved to the papparzzi letting them take their pictures and then you were led inside by his publicist, Anna.

Inside the whole procedure started again with what seemed like a million cameras capturing every gesture and twitch of your eyes and soon your mouth hurt from smiling so much.

Of course Pedro was a lot more interesting to the papparazzi and interviewers than you and you let him take the spotlight with pleasure. You smiled watching him on the red carpet so the photographers could take a few pictures with him alone and then waited while he gave a couple of interviews.

You really hoped he knew how much he deserved all of this. Not just because he was an incredible actor and entertainer but also because he worked so hard to get here. You didn't even pay attention to anyone else on the red carpet although there were the most famous people in the world walking past you because you only had eyes for Pedro. Your loving perfect Pedro. The one who had turned your life upside down three years ago and the one you wanted to get old with.

You saw how he scratched his nose at one point during an interview and couldn't help but think that it was intentional as the engagement ring was on display for the camera to catch it. He had also shown it off very clearly on the red carpet putting his hand on his hip so the whole world would find out that he was with you. Suddenly it was you who asked herself what you had done to deserve him.

When Pedro was done after a couple of minutes he quickly walked over to you and offered you his arm which you gladly took. Anna guided the two of you further until you passed the famous glambot which he did as well and then you finally found yourselves in front of the SNL stage.

Of course you would have loved to enjoy the show snuggled up against his shoulder but as that wasn't possible Pedro quickly pulled you in for a hug pressing kisses to your head.

"I'm sorry but I think I have to leave already. Hair and makeup, you know… Will you be okay?"

You smiled cupping his face and once again admired his beauty.

"Of course, baby. I can't wait to see you on stage. And once again, you got this. I'm already so fucking proud of you and there's absolutely no reason for you to be stressed, okay? We're all here to celebrate and have fun and even it something goes wrong please don't beat yourself up. But it doesn't matter anyway because you'll do amazing. Just try to enjoy it and don't think too much about it."

He nodded at you with these puppy eyes that made you want to squeeze his face but this definitely wasn't the time and place for it right now so you just kissed him one last time goodbye and then he left to go backstage where it certainly was a lot more stressful than here in the audience.

You passed the time with chatting to both people you knew and didn't know and you had so much fun that you didn't even notice the place getting more crowded. You met people you had never even dreamt of seeing in real life such as Jenna Ortega whom you repeatedly told how much you loved her in 'Wednesday' or Scarlett Johansson who from now on would probably be one of your favourite people in the world as your conversation felt so natural from the start. She hugged you in the end telling you how much she was looking forward to seeing you more frequently from now on glancing at your engagement ring and you felt the heat rising in your face.

When the show finally started you already felt high on your emotions very exhilarated and at peace at the same time.

You enjoyed Steve Martin's monologue, laughed at the first skits of the night and then it was finally time for Pedro's first appearance of the night so you dug your nails into the palms of your hands holding your breath.

Of course he did amazing. You noticed how he actually messed up the opening line just as he had predicted which you reacted to with widened eyes but he managed to keep going and in your opinion delivered a hilarious performance. You laughed and almost lost it when he had his reunion with Marcello and clapped and cheered loudly at the end.

Pedro seemed to search for you in the crowd as his eyes were dancing over the ranks and as you fortunately weren't seated too high up he spotted you and gave you wide smile that gave away how he relieved he was.

You returned the smirk and to show him how proud you were you blew him a kiss which he reacted to with a cheeky wink of his eye. Then the show proceeded so Pedro left the stage with the other actors which meant you had to wait now for his second skit.

It was a great show, you really had to admit that and you felt perfectly entertained watching all of these actors and singers putting their talents to show. But in the end it was Pedro you were here for so when his second skit was about to start you straightened up once again balling your hands into fists, muscles tensing.

You were nervous for him although you were telling yourself there was no reason for it. The performance turned out to be absolutely incredible and you couldn't hold you laughter for a moment.

Not only did Pedro do it flawlessly, no, you were also in awe of Woody Harrelson, Kate McKinnon and Meryl Streep and their ways of delivering their lines. You laughed tears, shook your head at the ridiculousness and genius of the jokes and even stood up in the end to show how impressed you were.

You even took a mental note to watch every single skit there was that included Kate McKinnon because she really had blown you away.

This time Pedro didn't have the time to make eye contact with you but you nevertheless followed his figure leaving the stage and exhaled loudly. He made it and he had done a hell of a job.

You couldn't wait to tell him how proud of him you were but first there were a lot more skits and musical performances to come so you once again relaxed and watched the show with a stupid smile on your face that just didn't seem to leave your face for a second these past days.

When the whole cast and guest performers appeared on stage in the end you finally saw Pedro again and rose to your feet alongside the other audience members. The cheers and clapping didn't seem to stop and a warmth spread throughout your body thinking about how wholesome and beautiful this whole night had been.

But now there was only one thing on your mind and that was to finally jump in Pedro's arms and never let him go again. And so as soon as the cameras were turned off and the celebrities seated around you started to move you swiftly gathered your jacket and purse and rushed down the stairs of the rang.

Pedro had seemingly already waited for you because he had opened his arms widely embracing you firmly while spinning you around. Neither of you initiated ending the hug so you enjoyed each other's warmth while you whispered sweet things in his ear.

"You did so amazing, Pedro. I loved it so much and you were so so incredible. I loved every fucking minute."

He pulled away a little to look at your face and formed his lips in a pout. "Thank you, y/n," he said clearly emotional and stroked the side of your head.

"But I messed up. Just as I said I would."

You strictly raised your finger lifting your eyebrows in a serious manner.

"No one cares. And don't you start with this now. It was a hilarious skit and you starting a little too early doesn't change anything about it."

He pressed your face to his neck swinging the two of you slightly.

"If you say so… It really was fun to be honest. But I was sooo nervous before, you won't believe it."

"But you did it. And I'm proud of you."

Pedro once again pursed his lips. "Thank you. This means so much to me. And I don't know how I would've done all of this without you."

In the way his voice broke you sensed that he was on the verge of crying and it made you tear up as well. Pedro quickly blinked them away pulling you in for yet another hug and then you stood like this for you didn't know how long but when you ended the hug a lot of people had already left the stage.

"Hotel?" you asked never having felt more content in your life.

Joel tilted his glass a little, glaring at the bottom of it.

It had been his second glass, but he could hardly feel any effects of the alcohol, which wasn't unusual given his tall, broad figure. His high tolerance was a curse and a blessing at the same time, but right now, he wished he would feel a little more at ease. Especially because his little brother seemed to be on another planet, and his wild behavior was usually a lot more endurable with his head pleasantly buzzed.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Joel, do you see this chick over there?"

Seriously, what was wrong with his brother using such terms at his age? He was talking like some college freshman who had gone out for the very first time in his life.

"No, Tommy. And I'd rather not."

"Joel, she's basically undressin' you with 'er eyes." Tommy grabbed his shoulder, trying to get him to shift his attention toward her, but Joel just peeled his hand off.

"Well, I wouldn't really like that in this goddamn cold."

It was untrue that he despised any kind of interaction with beautiful women, specifically when he felt that he had sparked an interest in them, but he doubted that Tommy had a good eye for any of this. He was… difficult sometimes. After dating Maria for quite some time, then breaking up with her in a huge fight, followed by months of reunions and more fights that ended ugly, Joel wasn't so sure he was the one to turn to for advice. Even though he would obviously never tell Tommy that.

"Joel, she wants to fuck ya."

"Who are you even talkin' 'bout?"

Okay, now he was interested. Just a tad. Despite its recent growth and all the new refugees coming from the East, Jackson was still a small town, so people knew each other. Especially Joel, who had been living there for four years now.

"The pretty one."

"Jesus…" He drew a heavy breath through his nose as he finally wheeled around to see who his brother had been watching for the past minute.

Oh. He had expected a lot, but not the person his eyes now landed upon.

At first, he assumed that he was mistaken, and that Tommy was talking about one of the women at the table beside you, but no. His brother was very clearly watching you.

"Are you fuckin' serious? You think she's starin' at me?" Joel chuckled, reaching for his glass only to remember that it was empty. How pathetic.

"She is. And she almost looked like she was about to drool."

"Christ… Tommy, she's like – I don't know, 35. What would she want from me?"

"I told you, she – "

"Yeah, yeah…" Joel grunted and determinedly put his glass back on the counter, turning the idea of getting himself another round over in his mind.

"Well, I'm gonna go over to this other group now and introduce myself like a polite gentleman would do, and if I were you, I'd join so I could talk to that pretty woman and…"

At this point, Joel stopped listening to his brother and just gave a nod when Tommy excused himself to execute his plan and approach the group of ladies next to you.

Tommy was insane, Joel thought, scoffing to himself while the idea of refilling his drink became more and more appealing with every passing second. But then again, drinking with his brother was one thing, but sitting alone at the counter sipping beer while Tommy was off flirting with women was even more humiliating. No, he would have to find different ways to deal with the loud noises and indistinct chatter without the liquor. At least until he was sure that Tommy was either safely at his house or had gone home with one of the women he had just met.

"Hey."

Joel's head spun around quickly, his breath catching in his throat. Shit, his body was too old to move that quickly, he thought, pressing his hand against the side of his neck.

Only then did he realize whom he was facing. It was probably the last person he had expected to see right now, maybe except for his brother, who seemed to be only just getting started throwing around compliments and lighting up the women with his widest smile.

"Oh, hey, how are you?"

Joel wasn't a friendly or particularly charming man, but he tried his best for you. What were you even doing here, talking to an old grump like him? Well, no matter what the reason was, it didn't change anything about the fact that you were pretty, had a beautiful smile, and were flashing your eyes at him at that moment.

"Oh, I just spotted you across the room and thought that maybe you – I don't know, you'd like some company?"

So you had been watching him? His brother was right? Otherwise, you wouldn't have headed straight over to him the second Tommy had left him alone at the counter.

"Of course, always," Joel said, but cursed his rough voice that might have just told you to fuck off. Hell, he just wasn't well-liked amongst women, and there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn't a natural, he wasn't the kind of man women really liked to spend a great deal of time with. Waste their time, rather.

"Can I sit?" you asked sweetly and didn't even flinch at his gruff tone. You were definitely either immune to it or hoping to crack his shell the moment you began having a conversation with him. He genuinely didn't know which he would prefer to be true.

"How are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in town forever. Did you attend last week's town meeting?"

Joel shook his head, feeling grateful to be able to talk about something that wasn't just superficial small talk.

"No, I was really busy fixin' my brother's window that day. The storm, you know… The glass broke out of the frame, so I had to replace it."

"Wow, that's impressive… I could use your help sometime, I think."

"Oh yeah?" Joel scoffed, averting his gaze to hide his flushed cheeks. He just wasn't used to this, talking to beautiful women at the bar who seemed to have a genuine interest in hearing about his daily life. "With what?"

"I have some lights in the living room that don't work. It's not too bad because I have others that light up the place, but I'd like it fixed sometime."

"Yeah," Joel growled and nervously turned his glass in his hand, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Goddamnit, was this really all he was capable of? Saying yeah and staring at the floor like he'd rather be buried beneath the parquet than spend another second in your presence?

It wasn't even true, for that matter. Joel didn't mind talking with you, which was remarkable since he couldn't stand half of this town's population. And for fuck's sake, you were pretty. He just couldn't stop thinking about how. He had seen you many times before, of course, but had never paid attention to you in such a way.

"Your brother went over to talk to some of my friends over there."

Yeah, that was it. Now you were about to come up with a lame excuse for why you had to head back over there and throw yourself at Tommy's chest like everyone else did. Joel just wondered why you had even come over in the first place rather than just staying with your friends and his handsome brother, whose brassy laughter was soaring through the entire bar.

"Yeah… That's Tommy, mhm?" Whatever, perhaps it was time to go home, and it wasn't such a bad thing that you were about to leave him alone.

"I don't really get it. Without being mean, of course."

"Get what?" he murmured, narrowing his eyes and planting his palm flat on the wooden counter.

"Why they all wanna talk to him… I mean, I just think there is an even more appealing Miller brother."

His brain short-circuited, and for an instant he was speechless. There were no thoughts running through his head, but when he had finally caught up on what you had said, he wanted to laugh.

"What?" Joel chuckled and awkwardly shifted his weight onto his elbow, trying to seem casual with his cheek resting on his palm, but he assumed it just looked ridiculous and forced.

"I just… wanted to talk to you. That's all."

"Talk about what?"

Now it was you who laughed, throwing your head back, which looked incredibly endearing. "Nothing specific, Joel… Just you. I just felt like coming over to you."

Your words stole his breath again, only this time his heart rate picked up as well, causing an uncomfortable hollowness to swell in his chest. So all of it was true, you were here because it was where your heart had led you? Tommy had been right when he had claimed that you had been subtly watching him?

His mind hadn't fully processed everything when your lips were already moving again.

"Not that I have anything against your brother, of course… He's such a polite man. But I just – I saw you by the bar. And you looked… handsome."

"Handsome?" Joel repeated, his voice a low, raspy drawl. At this point, he didn't even take your words seriously anymore, as you were probably just too drunk to think before you spoke, which was the very reason for your mindless stammering.

He wasn't handsome, he was harsh and mean to the people around him, while the ones he didn't want around were treated coldly and without any interest in getting to know them better. Joel didn't know where to place you in that… Sure, you weren't someone he usually saw on a daily basis, but at the same time, he didn't mind having you around. Seeing you briefly in the grocery store or at a town meeting had the advantage that there wasn't much potential for you to piss him off. Most of the time, the two of you just exchanged a few words before everyone went on their way.

"Yeah, handsome. I like what you – did with your hair today."

Joel had no idea how he had ended up in that situation, but when he later looked back, he assumed that this sentence had been the reason for it all, that with those words, the seeds had been planted.

The conversation about hairstyles and clothing had led to one about favorite seasons of the year, and then, all of a sudden, you had asked if he wanted to catch some fresh air.

Of course, Joel had agreed, since a crowded, noisy bar was high up on the list of the most uncomfortable places for him. He had agreed so quickly that you had asked him why he had even come in the first place if he hated it so much, but Joel had just shrugged, mumbling something about his brother, who had the talent of always getting what he wanted. And tonight, he had wanted to go to the bar with him.

One thing had led to another, you had caused his cheeks to flush with more of those sweet compliments, and ten minutes later, Joel and you had entered his house, your back crashing into the wall the moment he had locked the door behind you.

Your mouths were pressed together so tightly he couldn't breathe, and he didn't care about it either. All he cared about was savoring as much of the feeling of your soft lips as possible and getting his fucking hands on you.

"Holy shit," he choked after a while, grabbing your wrists with both hands and pinning them above your head. He didn't even intend to restrain you or cage you in, he just genuinely liked tracing your soft wrists and your pretty skin.

"Joel," you panted, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him back, which made his head spin. You, desperately crying his name just because you desired him so much. You, stretching your body toward him just because you wanted to be closer to him. It was a beautiful dream, impossible to believe.

After accepting that his hands weren't so successful in their mission to remove more layers of clothing from your body — he kept getting distracted by every inch of skin he uncovered — Joel pulled back a little to guide you to his bedroom.

You gasped for air, your flushed cheeks dimpling with a mischievous smile as you took the hand he offered you. You followed him with light steps, the anticipation tangible in the way you held yourself and squeezed his hand, which made it hard to believe that you weren't drunk. You had promised him as much after all on the walk back to his house.

Still, he took the liberty of asking you again the moment he had guided you onto his bed, which practically invited the two of you to take advantage of it with its wide mattress and plush pillows.

"You promise you're not drunk?" he huffed while sliding your shirt over your head before he got sidetracked once again.

"I'm not. I promise." He hadn't tasted any alcohol on your tongue, he had to admit.

"Why, do you think I'm acting drunk?"

Joel scoffed and dropped your shirt on the ground next to the bed, struggling to keep his gaze on your face while he yearned for a glimpse of your torso. He wanted to be respectful, of course, and not make you feel like he only appreciated your looks and couldn't have cared less about the things coming out of your mouth.

"No, I'm just… I don't know, I'm wonderin' what you want with an old guy like me. You could have anybody you want, sweetheart."

Now it was you who chuckled, though something was also shimmering in your eyes that prompted him to nervously shift on top of you. Your gaze was intense, that was all. The fire in your eyes seemed to burn off the layers of his clothes, making him feel vulnerable, which was remarkable since you were the one half-undressed.

"Are you serious? Joel, you… Of course I want you. You think I would only want you if I were drunk? Is that what you're trying to say?"

"No, I mean…" He started, but then his voice trailed off as he realized that it was precisely what he had assumed. It just sounded a lot worse out of your mouth.

"Let me show you," you whispered and put your hand on the back of his neck, tugging him closer so that the words that followed could barely be heard, nothing but a breath between you.

"Let me show you how much I want you."

Joel grinned, coming off a lot more casual and natural than he viscerally felt.

"How?" he grunted, his lip twitching when you took his hand and brought it to rest on your lower belly.

"I want you to feel it… Can you do that? I want you to feel how wet I am for you."

His ears grew hot at your blunt words, his stomach coiling with a mix of anxiety about messing this up and a desperate urge to melt into you. Shit, he had an extraordinarily beautiful woman under him who was inviting him to touch her most intimate parts. He would never forgive himself if he messed this up.

"Yes," was all that he breathed.

You moved his hand to the waistband of your jeans, but the moment his fingers brushed against the cool metallic button, he took over and undid it himself.

Without yanking your jeans down your legs, Joel slipped his hand inside your pants. There was something enthralling and nerve-tingling about leaving your lower half dressed while he touched you, and he might get a proper look at you later. If you let him, and if he hadn't done something wrong by that point.

"You look pretty," Joel murmured, just to fill the silence surrounding the two of you. He wasn't sure if you minded the quietness, if he was doing both of you a favor by speaking, since your expression was unreadable. Actually, it wasn't entirely unreadable, there was still sweet longing etched into your features, but Joel supposed that this was just your standard look for tonight.

"Thank you," you murmured, batting your lashes and opening your thighs wider for him, allowing him to settle between them.

His hand was now nicely sheathed between your jeans and your underwear. He had to twist his wrist a little to move freely, but he liked your warmth and how your pussy seemed to have a magnetic effect on him. He wished he could touch your bare skin, maybe even slide a finger inside, but you hadn't asked him explicitly yet, so he —

"Joel…" you whimpered, which came so suddenly he twitched slightly. "Please… Please, touch me."

God, you seemed on the brink of begging him, which wasn't at all what he had expected. The sight of the sheer hunger in your eyes, how you chewed on your bottom lip as though it would quench your needs, was both terrifying and heart-warming. Terrifying because Joel felt a little overwhelmed by your undisguised desire, and heart-warming because it was simply an endearing sight.

"Like that?" he whispered and pressed the heel of his hand against your clit, or at least he assumed he was pressing against the right spot beneath the fabric.

When your breath hitched and your muscles tensed, his suspicions were confirmed, and his shoulders eased a little.

It wasn't like he was completely talentless when it came to the art of making love, it was just that he was a bit rusty. Here in Jackson, Joel didn't have a recurring partner to have sex with, which was why he was afraid the things he had learned over the course of his life were slipping out of his head the older he got.

Someone like you, though, someone who was many years younger than him and surely had a lot of sex, given that you were so beautiful and charming, definitely knew what you wanted. So what if he just wasn't competent enough to compare with those other men and please you?

"Joel?" you whispered, clearly aware that his mind had drifted off again.

Your warm hand rested on his cheek, your thumb drawing a few vague circles over his skin.

"It's okay. It feels good. Very - fucking good."

Your voice was breathy, lips parted as you forced large amounts of air into your lungs. Which was a good sign, right?

"You like that?"

"Yes, Joel, fuck... I like it - so much. Please."

The corner of his mouth instinctively curled. He liked hearing you beg. A lot. Besides its obvious effects, it also made him more secure in his own skills and caused his hand to rock against your core with more force.

After a few more minutes, he couldn't wait any longer and pushed your underwear to the side to gain access to your hole, which was hopefully dripping for him by now.

"Is that okay?" he panted against your lips, the sweat pooling on his brow most likely trickling onto your head at that moment, but it was better not to think about it and perhaps become self-conscious. Instead, he focused on your sweet whisper and your swollen lips.

"Yes, Joel. Please, just—put them inside. Please."

It was all the assurance he needed to remove the damp fabric and let his fingertips circle your hole. He hoped they were warm enough to feel pleasant, but sensing no hint of startlement from you, he was confident you didn't mind.

Goddamnit, you were soaked. He had hoped to find some wetness, prayed that there was enough to comply with your request and push his fingers inside you, but he hadn't dared imagine your juices running down your legs like that.

"Do you believe me now?" you laughed, burying your hand in his locks and yanking his face against yours, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.

"I... Yeah. Yeah, you... fuck, you're wet, baby."

Joel dipped his fingers in a little deeper but moved his thumb to your clit to keep up the friction that had evoked so much pleasure within you in the first place.

"It's all for you, Joel... 'Cause I want you. I want to feel you so bad."

Your words, in combination with how you felt, how your pussy sucked him in greedily yet so effortlessly, drove him near insanity. Joel's head was spinning like he had just gotten off a roller coaster and the earth beneath his feet had yet to stop tilting. It was a tad unsettling, still, he wouldn't trade the feeling for the world. It was too precious, you were too precious, for him to take a second to calm himself.

"Ohhh fuck. Yes, Joel, please, I—yes, like that."

He was working his middle and ring fingers inside you, thinking that you were relaxed and wet enough to take two at once. The idea of you being so comfortable with him that you opened up for him just like that was filling his heart with pride, even though he knew that he shouldn't get too presumptuous about it. You were just confident and experienced, that was all. There was no reason for you to get nervous with him, because it was just him. Just a slightly insecure, awkward old man who didn't really have a clue what he was doing.

"Feels good, Joel," you whimpered and rolled your hips forward, inviting him to start moving.

Which he did gladly. At first, he thrust them in and out of you slowly, occasionally going knuckle-deep while other times just feeling how beautifully you stretched around him.

But after becoming certain that you had accommodated the size of two of his fingers, he allowed himself to match the pace of his digits with the tight swirls over your stiff bundle of nerves, which he didn't forget no matter how tight and warm you felt around him. How much he wished he could experience it with his cock as well.

"Oh my god," you cried out, arching off his bed and digging your toes into the mattress.

He loved how your entire body responded to him, not just your hot, pulsing pussy. He wished he could tell you that, but he didn't know how without coming off as strange. Was that a normal thing to say during sex? Would your pretty smile broaden, or would your eyebrows draw together? Or would you show no reaction at all but internally question whether it had been a good idea to go home with him?

"Joel. Joel, I—I'm gonna cum," you informed him, causing his stomach to flip.

He couldn't help it, the idea of bringing you to the edge so quickly made his chest flare with pride and excitement, filling his veins with adrenaline.

"That's it, baby," he whispered in your ear, driving his fingers all the way out of you, which produced a squelching sound. The moment you began whining for his fingers to stuff you full, he worked them back inside you. All the way, until his knuckles were inside you. He curled them a little, hitting your spongy, sensitive walls and using your natural wetness to smoothly glide his pads along your insides.

This was downright obscene, and doing something like that with a woman he hadn't exchanged more than a few words with in the past made it feel even more brazen. Though in a good way, if that made sense.

"I'm gonna cum," you pressed out, cheeks turning red while you moved your left hand to his shoulder, gripping the fabric of his shirt firmly.

"I know, sweetheart. I know you are. It's okay, you can cum any time you want."

It took him another minute of circling your little nub and keeping you full of his fingers before you unraveled for him. The sight was the most intoxicating and gorgeous thing he could imagine. Your head was thrown back, eyes pinched shut, and mouth open while throaty moans spilled from your throat. Since you couldn't see him, Joel felt nearly intrusive for regarding you in your most vulnerable state, but he couldn't look away either.

"Ohhhh fuck. Huh. Joel, fuck."

Your hands fell away from him and instead came to rest next to you on the bed.

You looked so exhausted and weak, he considered rolling off you to give you some room to breathe and restore your strength, but he didn't dare do so when you slung your legs around his hips.

"Shit, that was good," you grinned and looked up at him through your lashes, both tiredness and devilment glinting in your eyes.

"Yeah? You liked it?" he growled casually, trying to make his voice sound as carefree as possible.

"Yes. Of course. I don't think I've ever come so quickly while being with a man."

"Oh, you... you like women too?"

You burst into laughter at once, which made his brow furrow in confusion.

"No, I meant I've never come so quickly except when I do it myself. And when I have to be fast, you know? Not that there's anything wrong with liking women."

Shit, he really did turn into an idiot the second he got close to a beautiful woman.

"Oh, yeah... I get it now."

"Joel?"

The tender skin of your hand traced his patchy beard, seemingly not minding the stiffness and sharpness of the little hairs.

"Yeah?"

"I wanna do something for you now."

"Oh, you—you don't have to, sweetheart. You really don't."

You narrowed your eyes at that, licking your bottom lip.

"But I want to. Will you let me ride you?"

Despite feeling a rush of arousal go through him and head straight to his core, he was slightly taken aback by your words. Not that he doubted in any way that you were capable of doing it, it was just that no woman had ever asked him that question so bluntly.

"Yeah, sure..."

Joel grinned wryly and trailed his thumb along your cheekbone, wondering how it was possible to look so breathtaking and adorable at the same time. Your hair was a little messed up, your face blotchy after your high, but that didn't decrease his lust for you in the slightest. No, it only added to it, if anything.

Within seconds, you had climbed on top of him, straddling his clothed thigh while Joel slowly placed his hands on your waist as if to gauge where to touch you best.

You took your lip between your teeth, the grin you were wearing making your whole face gleam.

Then, you reached behind you and unclasped your bra with a seductive sheen in your eyes. His mouth dried at the sight of your bare chest. Instinctively, his fingers jolted upward, which didn't seem to escape your notice.

"You can touch me, Joel."

While he ran his index finger along the underside of your breast, careful at first as though he were afraid you would break under his hands, you took care of your pants and underwear, then of Joel's clothes. He helped you by lifting his hips and sliding his arms out of the sleeves of his shirt, but for the most part, he only paid attention to your body and your protruding nipples, which were a sight for sore eyes, hardening under his touch.

At times, you squealed or jerked when he twisted your nipples, which filled him with anticipation and made his skin prickle. Faster than he could process, the two of you were naked, except for your socks, but neither of you had the patience to remove another piece of clothing, which was why your eyes went straight to his cock.

Joel maybe would have felt embarrassed about being so eager for you if he hadn't touched your soaked pussy a moment ago. He was rock hard, the tip swollen and red, which caused a flicker of pity to appear in your eyes.

"It's so pretty," you commented, wetting your dry lips with your tongue.

"Yeah? You think so, baby?"

Joel splayed his left hand across the small of your back, yanking you closer. You reached for his member, forming a fist around his shaft, which was answer enough.

"It's gonna feel so good," you panted and slid your hand up and down a couple of times, hot blood pulsating through his veins at the stimulation.

"You wanna put it inside, darlin'?" Joel groaned, feeling the remnants of his nervousness disintegrate as greed consumed him. There was no space for it anymore, his thoughts were replaced by his craving to feel your pussy hugging his pulsing member. It would feel so good, he just knew it.

He could only hope that he wasn't going to burst the second you sank down on him, that he would be able to hold back for a few minutes, which would hopefully give you the time to take from him what you needed to slake your own longing before he spilled his cum inside you like a pathetic teenage boy.

"Yes," you hummed and tilted his dick a little, lifting your hips to properly climb on top of him.

It took you two attempts to work the head of his cock inside, as the slippery mess between your legs caused the tip to slip aside at first, but then the two of you moaned in unison, feeling your walls give way.

You were tight, but not so tight that he anticipated any discomfort from your side while he reached deeper inside you. Besides, you were still the one in charge and could stop any time you needed a break to get used to him.

But holy shit, it didn't seem like you wanted anything like that. You just glided down on him as though the most hidden and secretive corners of your pussy were begging to be filled by him, and you didn't have the patience to wait a second longer than necessary.

"Oh my fuckin'..." Joel growled, throwing his head back, his lids falling shut, but then they opened again when he felt you kiss his neck.

"Baby. You feel goddamn good, you know that?"

You whimpered softly but didn't let go of his skin. No, you were clinging to his body like a monkey, your hands squeezing his bicep with every other inch you took of him.

"Ohh god. Oh shit."

You rolled your hips a tad, allowing him to claim yet a little more of your body until he hit your cervix, and you ground your teeth.

"Don't hurt yourself, baby," Joel grunted, one of his hands landing on the back of your head while the other rested on your hipbone, guiding you into him without urging you to pick up your pace.

"I just—Feels really good. You're so deep, Joel."

"I know I am," he hummed, glaring down at your head, which was still pressed against his collarbone. He couldn't see a lot, though, as sparks were flickering in his vision, drowning everything in a hazy, blazing bubble.

"You like that, sweetheart? You feel good?" Joel asked and moved a hand to your breasts again, which bounced wonderfully under the steady rhythm you had set for yourself.

"Yes, Joel..." you murmured, almost in awe of his girthy length inside you.

Your eyes were round and glossy, making you look like you were on some other planet or perhaps just encapsulated by his cock, stuffing you full with every thrust.

"You feel perfect," Joel grunted and weighed the flesh of your breast in his hand before he suddenly dropped it between your thighs, finding your hardened clit in no time.

You flinched slightly at the first touch, but after a few gentle swipes, it seemed to start feeling good again. Your motions became a little more uneven, sometimes you stopped about halfway above his cock when he pinched your clit just right, but Joel didn't mind it at all. No, he devoured every single image like a dry sponge, rewarding you with little kisses on top of your brow.

"I ain't gonna last long," he muttered in your ear after a while, his thick Southern accent even more distinct now than it always was when he felt strong emotions. "Sorry, sweetheart... You just—you feel very fuckin' good. I'm—God, baby, I... You're so warm..."

You raised your head from his chest at that, planting both hands on his shoulders to have better support while you rocked back and forth. He didn't know what exactly your technique was, didn't know how you did it, but the sensation was a totally new and spectacular one.

"Holy fuckin'..." he grunted, squeezing the flesh of your waist so tightly that the skin turned white.

A split second later, Joel's world collapsed. His body released the tension it had been holding, and he spurted his creamy seed within your wet pussy.

"Fuck..." was all he felt capable of muttering, shoulders slackened and eyes pinched shut.

Everything went still for the moment, the noises gushing from outside his house, the creaking bed, and even his own thoughts. He even forgot all about his guilty conscience for cumming before you instead of waiting like a gentleman.

Then, his high abated slowly, and he felt capable enough to raise his regretful gaze to face you.

"I'm so fucking sorry, sweetheart," Joel whispered in your ear, feeling his sticky cum pushed deep inside your pussy by his dick, which was still buried all the way inside you.

Although you just gave him a smile and assured him that you were perfectly satisfied with what you had received from him, Joel insisted on making you cum a second time, which you didn't mind in the slightest.

Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth and curling your toes in excitement, you spent another fifteen minutes on your back, legs spread wide and lids fluttering while Joel used both his tongue and fingers on you until you saw white.

He licked you through your high, kept his tongue attached to your clit, and when you neither flinched away nor told him to stop after your apex, he just kept going, feeling addicted to your juices.

Your orgasm was followed by another, but after that, you weakly cradled his head and pulled him up to you.

That night, both of you had a restful sleep.

You dozed off the moment Joel had crawled up and spread the blanket over you, and he joined you in your dreamscape shortly afterward. He was even too tired to clean up the mess the two of you had made, thinking that he would have all the time in the world to do it the following day.

With a heavy groan, Joel shoved the cupboard against the wall, dropping his hands to his hips.

"That's it, ain't it?"

His brother pursed his lips and eyed the corner of the room, then the rest of it.

"Yeah. Looks right, mhm? We did a good job 'ere. Thank you, Joel."

He gave a small nod and let his gaze wander over the freshly painted but dried walls of the room with a satisfied hum. The creamy white reflected the light much better than the dark grey had, which had been one of the main reasons why Tommy's wife, Maria, had asked the brothers to repaint the garage of their house.

Now everything looked much friendlier, Joel had to admit, even though he had been the one to raise his eyebrows in doubt when Tommy had brought the idea forward to him. After all, there were many more important things to tend to than the color of their garage.

But whatever, the job was quickly done, and if it made his sister-in-law happy, he would sacrifice a few hours of his free time to help them out.

For once, Tommy and her were doing well in their marriage, and their fighting had been reduced to things around the house, which Joel considered a good sign.

Besides, it looked like he was about to get rewarded with a cold beer in Tommy's garden, which was precisely what his sweaty body was craving right now.

A moment later, Joel was sitting with him on the terrace. The sun stood low in the sky, warm enough to tingle pleasantly on his neck but not as pungent and aggressive as it had been a few hours prior.

"Cheers, brother," Tommy grinned and clinked his glass against his. "Thanks again. Maria really appreciates it. She even thinks about invitin' you to 'er birthday next month."

"Very funny," Joel scoffed but nodded anyway. "No problem. If I get rewarded so generously..."

He tilted his head toward the glass filled with beer that had come straight out of the refrigerator and tasted cold against his tongue, filling his body with the refreshment he had been missing over the past hours.

"You're welcome. This is precious stuff, so you know we really appreciate it."

"How's your 'lil guy?" Joel asked after a while, looking around the garden as though he was expecting his nephew to jump out from behind a tree any minute.

"Oh, he's doin' well. He's visitin' a friend right now. But I swear to God, they grow so fast, you can't even keep track. He's learnin' how to read, Joel. I feel like it was yesterday that Maria and I took him home from the hospital."

Although everything about his words sounded very cliché to Joel, he had no doubt about their authenticity. He felt the same way, really. Watching Benjamin grow up had been one of the strangest and most beautiful experiences of his life, and it reminded him strongly of raising Sarah all those years ago.

"Speakin' of children, you know what Maria told me today?"

Joel took another swig of his beer, then set his glass back on the table.

"Shoot."

"So, you remember y/n? The girl from the bar?"

Joel's breath caught in his throat at the mention of your name, and he just hoped that the warmth creeping into his cheeks didn't show on his face.

"Yeah," he answered and subtly avoided Tommy's gaze.

There was nothing to be embarrassed about, it was just that Joel had never told his brother that he had hooked up with you four months ago. Sure, he hadn't been able to avoid talking to him about you the following day, but he had left out the part where he had taken you home and slept with you.

He didn't really know why he had lied, though. Tommy was surely the last person who would judge him for having a one-night stand.

"People are talkin' 'round the town."

"About what? I haven't heard anythin'."

"Of course you haven't," Tommy snickered and patted him on the back. "'Cause you live behind a rock."

"What are they sayin'?" Joel rolled his eyes and felt his heart pound in his chest a little faster than usual. Just because he hadn't seen you again after that one night—except for the occasional, inevitable run-in at the grocery store that had been limited to a friendly greeting—didn't mean he didn't care about you.

"They're sayin' she's pregnant."

Oh.

Joel's stomach twisted, his skin turning pale. Obviously, he wasn't looking in a mirror that could have confirmed his suspicions, but he just knew that it was the truth.

"Pregnant?" he repeated, eyebrows shooting up to portray indifference.

"Yeah..."

"Who's sayin' that?"

"Well, Maria told me. She talked to some of 'er friends, and apparently Nicole saw 'er with a baby bump. And then she talked to some of her friends who told 'er that, yeah, she's pregnant."

"How far along?" it burst out of him before he could stop himself and reconsider showing such intense emotion in front of Tommy.

"Jesus... I'm not sure. What, are you mad at it? Do you like 'er? I thought you weren't so interested after your conversation at the bar."

"No, I... I mean, no. I'm not interested. I just... I don't know—"

"So, her friend didn't say how far along she is, but Nicole said she assumed around fourth or fifth month."

Jesus fucking Christ.

There was a good chance Joel had messed up badly. Of course, that chance wasn't a hundred percent, but if Nicole was right about her assumption and if you hadn't been with anyone else shortly after him and before him, there was... No, he didn't even want to finish the thought for now. First, he needed a few more pieces of information.

"And she said anything about whose child it is? Does she have a boyfriend?"

Obviously, Joel knew that you didn't have one. Against his own will and what he deemed the right thing to do, he had silently watched you a little, just a tad more closely than the other residents of Jackson. He had kept his ears open when walking down the streets and had automatically scanned you when he saw you at town meetings. If there was a boyfriend, you would have surely sat next to him at one of those events, but you were always just accompanied by your friends.

"I don't know. But I haven't heard anything... Have you? Why am I even asking..."

Joel joined his laughter just to conceal his nervousness.

Holy shit.

What if he had really gotten himself into some trouble because of his careless actions?

When he was home an hour later, Joel still felt anxious even though his body was supposed to feel more normal at this point. He sank into the couch cushions, all the air leaving his body as he exhaled.

Well, if that wasn't something.

He didn't want to feel certain that he was responsible for this and that it was his kid before talking to you, but Joel didn't really doubt his involvement in it. He had come inside you, after all, acting stupid and risky like a reckless teenage boy.

Talking to you, yes... If that wasn't long overdue.

He needed to know if it was his child, and if it was, why you hadn't come to him earlier for help. He needed to know if there was any way to help you and if you had any plan or wish whatsoever regarding the future.

Joel nervously tapped his fingers on his thigh.

It had gotten late.

The sun was setting, and the sky was painted in rich orange colors. The wisest thing to do was to wait until the next day to approach this issue with a clear head and a relaxed body, and still, Joel rose to his feet at once.

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

Only one thing has you concerned.

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

“What happened to Frankie?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Great, just great.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not serious,” you sputter.

“You afraid or somethin’?” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

if you made it this far, thank you! follow @baronessvonglitter-fics for updates 💚

You’ve been in Italy for three days, walking all day under the August sun in Rome, visiting monuments and eating your weight in pasta.

The perfect honeymoon that Joel organized for you is being one of the best trip you’ve ever had.

You’re loving Italy so far, people are so nice, food is great and landscapes are breathtaking.

Walking so much is taking a toll on Joel though, being older than you is a factor that he struggles to accept still. You’re always trying to not underline that and anyway he’s satisfying you every night and even multiple times a day.

And you don’t care, really, he’s the husband you always dreamed of.

Being married is making the both of you even more eager to fuck than before.

You can’t even get enough of Joel.

This morning he woke up with a sore back due to the air conditioner in your room so you suggested to take a sightseeing bus.

“It’s an old people thing” he grunted “I don’t want to do it”

And you cooed with your most persuasive voice “I like it! Joel, please” batting your eyelashes.

So that’s how you ended up on this bus.

You and Joel are sitting in the back behind all the other people, his arm around your shoulders and your head resting on his chest while you’re listening to the audio guide.

Joel takes off one earbud and groans “this is so boring, can’t we just get off and go somewhere else?”

You grin and tease him “I married Mr. Grumpy” pinching his side.

He kisses your hair and goes “you like me though”

He stays quite for a while until you shift on your sit claiming to be a little tired too, nuzzling your face in his chest.

“Let’s make it more interesting” Joel whispers

“How?” you ask and he doesn’t reply, he just slide his hand under your skirt.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m adding some spices” Joel groans.

You spread your knees to allow him to slip his hand in more easily and cover it with your long skirt.

No one is watching you, and the people closest to you are sitting four rows ahead.

Joel's fingers lightly travel up your thigh, tickling your skin. When he reaches your panties, he grunts softly in your ear. “always so wet for me, sweetheart”

You giggle a little bit, feeling his fingers on the damp fabric.

Joel massages your outer lips, then dips two fingers into the center, spreading your juices across your panties.

You squirm in the seat, crossing your legs and trapping Joel's wrist between your slightly sweaty thighs.

He leans over you to move more easily, his fingers sliding to the center of your lips, your juices now flowing abundantly, soaking your panties.

"Mmmm, Joel, please." You whine.

"What, love? Are you embarrassed?"

"There are all those people in front..." you try to protest.

"Then keep quiet, baby."

His index and middle fingers make their way past the waistband of your panties, moving up to your clit, wetting it with circular motions.

Your hands are tight on the fabric of your skirt, you begin to feel your face heat up.

“I didn’t even started and you’re ruined yet, darling, you’re dripping all over my fingers” Joel chuckles.

“Not my fault” you murmur gritting your teeth.

Joel slides his fingers lower, teasing your opening, and you instinctively shift in the seat to give him better access, pushing your knees apart again.“You want it, don’t you? Want me to fuck you in front of all these people with my fingers, right?”

“Yeah…” you breath.

You can’t deny it anymore.

Being there with your brand new husband wanting you so much that he can’t even wait until you’re back in your room is sending you to outer space.

It’s risky but also incredibly arousing.

Joel loves pushing you through the edge, he grins looking at you and whispering dirty things into your ear and you love it too.

“I know what my baby wants…” he smiles softly before pushing his middle and ring finger into you.

He’s all the way to his knuckles inside you, you feel his wedding ring rubbing against your opening, which makes you even more aroused.

This man is yours, all yours forever.

And the way he treats you, with respect and devotion, the way his eyes look at you, making you feel like the most beautiful woman ever, and the way you feel with him, safe but never bored, never tired, never neglected or left out, makes you think you couldn't want anything more.

“Oh God” you stutter “fuck - Joel”

His fingertips press against your special spot, repeatedly. You can't contain your moans anymore, and you place a hand on the armrest of the bus seat to steady yourself and keep from slipping as the bus makes a sharper-than-usual turn.

You’re crumbling under Joel’s touch, as he keeps his eyes on you, grinning softly at you squirming and struggling hard to keep your mouth shut.

“Easy, baby” he whispers “your pussy is sucking my fingers up so good, she’s so perfect, I would never get tired of filling her”

He’s thumbing your clit as well and you’re about to burst, you feel your orgasm rising up to your lower tummy to your chest and up to your heated cheeks.

Joel is making you sweat more than the Roman sun as he thrust his fingers into your wet cunt, the squelching sound of it covered by the traffic and the sound of horns.

“Fuuuck - I’m coming” you mutter in a low voice.

“Come, baby, come for me” he urges you.

You cover your mouth with your hand, slumping onto the empty seat in front of you, hiding your face as you come hard, your shudders drowned out by the rolling of the bus. Your juices slide onto Joel's fingers, wetting his wrist as he frantically rubs your clit.

The bus stops in front of the Colosseum, the audio guide in your ears explains something you don't even hear, caught up as you are in the explosive sensations your husband is giving you.

Joel lets his fingers slip out of you, looks at them for a moment, smiling. “You always make a mess for me, don’t you?” He brings them to his mouth, licking them like ice cream without anyone seeing. He grunts at the taste of you hitting his tongue, and you put a hand over your eyes, stifling a laugh. “God, Joel…”

“What? Do you want to taste it?” He places his other hand under your chin, turning you toward him and kissing you softly. Your hand grips his shirt, his tongue meets yours, sharing your flavor.

From the outside, it looks very romantic.

You hear a woman in front of you calling a friend's attention, murmuring, "Look, they're so sweet." You pull away from Joel, laughing, and he echoes your laughter, his eyes sparkling with desire, the dimple you've grown to love with all your heart appearing on his cheek.

“We almost got caught,” you whisper, and he laughs again.

“Mmm, that would turn you on even more.”

You slap his shoulder, feigning offense, but you know it’s true. Joel knows you like a book.

“I can’t wait to get back to our room so I can give you more,” he says, then pauses for a moment. “Or maybe you’d like to suck me off in front of the Trevi Fountain, what do you say?”

-₊ ⊹ ex-boyfriend!joel who most definitely did not want to breakup but agreed to because you felt it was best. your reasoning? his insanely demanding work schedule.

-₊ ⊹ ex-boyfriend!joel who picks up the phone within the first few rings whenever you call; not to mention, how often he still calls you.

-₊ ⊹ ex-boyfriend!joel who constantly reminds you that if you need transportation or help repairing anything in your crummy apartment, he’ll be there.

-₊ ⊹ ex-boyfriend!joel who makes sure you’ve eaten and offers to bring by food if you say you haven’t.

-₊ ⊹ ex-boyfriend!joel who is still madly in love with you but stays quiet about it for your sake.

-₊ ⊹ ex-boyfriend!joel whose heart dropped when he heard a man talking in the background while the two of you were on the phone one night (you confirmed that the male voice was in fact a movie scene which immediately evened out his heart rate)

-₊ ⊹ ex-boyfriend!joel who is trying his best to adjust his work schedule for you and has yet to tell you that he’s doing so in case it doesn’t work out/so he won’t get your hopes up.

-₊ ⊹ ex-boyfriend!joel who is the first person to text you on holidays even though he did not celebrate them much prior to your relationship.

-₊ ⊹ ex-boyfriend!joel who offers to take you out for dinner on your birthday—you remind him that it isn’t necessary, but he insists. he even buys you presents which you are reluctant to accept, but ultimately can’t say no to because of his sweet face.

-₊ ⊹ ex-boyfriend!joel who still finds himself being protective of you on the rare occasion that the two of you go out together.

-₊ ⊹ ex-boyfriend!joel who asks you to tell him you’ve made it home safely when he’s aware you’ve gone out.

-₊ ⊹ ex-boyfriend!joel who constantly has you on his mind but tries not to make it too obvious. by how much he texts and calls you though, you can tell.

Last night’s words had sounded possessive, but it wasn’t said in ownership. It is the disbleif, and appreciation that somehow despite it all, he had someone who chose him. Someone all scarred and cruel, twisted from the things he had done, is still looked at with love.

You stir beside him and he sits up, giving you space. His feet swing off the side of the bed, sticking to the wood in the warm morning air.

“Morning,” your voice is sleepy. “Did you sleep?”

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” Joel looks down. “Some.”

“Joel.” You give him the look.

“What?”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

He grins with a singular shrug. “Yeah, I know.”

You sit up and kiss him, morning breath and all, your hair tumbling down your back. It’s simple, enough to remind him that last night is almost over.

-

Joel finds Tommy near the stables. It’s the place he liked to hide away ever since he and Maria split. Joel can’t really blame him, trying to lose himself in the work.

Tommy doesn’t look surprised, straightening with the pitchfork in hand. Maybe he’d been expecting this, maybe he knew that a storm would come after the things he’d had said.

“Hey Joel.”

Joel stops serval feet away. “Mornin’ Tommy.”

They’re both quiet, sizing eachother up before Tommy sighs. “What’d you tell her?”

“You knew I had to.” Joel replies and Tommy’s jaw tightens. He looks away first, eyes squinting in the brightness of the rising sun.

“Figured you would, yeah.”

“She thinks you’re angry at her,” Joel replies and Tommy’s eyes snap back to his. “Thinks she did something wrong.”

“Joel, I never- she never-“

“I know you didn’t,” Joel cuts in and he keeps his voice gentle. “I know she didn’t either.”

Tommy shakes his head. “I never wanted to say a word. Never wanted to hurt you.”

Joel believes him, making it a problem. If Tommy had been careless or selfish, if he had crossed a line, this almost could have been easier, but Tommy isn’t that kind of man. Even with all the blood and mistakes on his hands, Joel knows his brother is a decent man at his core.

“She just…”

“Careful now.” Joel insists, and Tommy holds up his hands.

“Wasn’t gonna say anything bad,” Tommy replies, shaking his head in defeat. “But I…god I couldn’t help it, Joel. She’s good.”

Something ugly twists in Joel’s just but he ignores it. “I’m mighty aware.”

“You know she loves you, right?” Tommy says, his brows pinched. “She looks at you like you hung the moon, brother. And I’m not…trying to take that from you.”

Joel nods slowly, his hands bracing on his hips. “I know.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Tommy gives him a tired smile. “She’s your family.”

“Our family,” Joel corrects quietly. “She’ll be our family soon enough, Tommy.”

The quiet stretches, and Tommy nods, the conversation and understanding coming to an end. His grip tightens on the pitch fork. “You’re lucky to have her.”

Later that evening when Joel comes home, you’re at the dining room table, flour on your cheek and a rolling pin in your hands. You look up at the sound of his boots with a grin. “There you are.”

The tightness in his chest loosens as he walks over, bending to press a kiss to your mouth. It’s light but electric, sending a jolt down his spine. He pulls back then presses again, just a little harder, a little longer. When he straightens you blink up at him. “What was that for?”

“Just needed to remind myself how lucky I am.” He brushes the flour from your cheek with his thumb.

Your expression shifts and your smile reappears. “You don’t have to remind yourself. I’m right here.”

Joel smiles at you, and he believes you. You had chosen him, and every morning he wakes up with you by his side, you continue to do so, making him the luckiest man in Jackson.

-

You wait three days, not because you’re avoiding Tommy, but because you want to get your words right. You had spent your whole life being kind, and the last thing you want is that kindest to cause hurt. The world is already hurtful enough.

Tommy is fixing fences by the water well, his sleeves rolled up and his flannel unbuttoned, the white wife beater beneath it damp with sweat.

“Tommy?”

He looks up, shifting the second his eyes connect with yours. You shakily hold up a canteen. “I-I made lemonade. I thought you’d like some.”

Placing the hammer down, Tommy straightens, nodding at you as he approaches. “That’s kind of you.”

You hand him the canteen, tucking your fingers into the sleeves of your thin top. Even in the early September heat, you feel a chill. “Can we talk?”

Tommy sighs quietly after taking a sip, rubbing at his mouth. “Yeah.”

The wind rustles the trees, picking up bits of hay that swirl around your feet as you fidget. Clearing your throat, you steady yourself. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Immediately his face tightens, his jaw clenched. “No.”

Your brows raise. “No?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

“Tommy, I-“

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You swallow, letting your shoulders loosen. “I just thought maybe I gave you the wrong idea.”

At your words he gives a little shake of his head, because of course, you would apologize for someone else’s actions. “You didn’t,” his voice is gentle as he speaks, closing the lid of the canteen. “You never did.”

You exhale slowly through your mouth. “Then I don’t understand.”

Tommy is quiet for several minutes, eyes bouncng from you to the floor to the canteen in his hands. He shakes his head once, unsure of how to explain himself without sounding selfish. “I didn’t mean to love you like that. Believe me, I know how it sounds.”

You tug at the hem of your shirt, wishing you could fix this somehow. “Tommy…”

“It’s alright,” he interjects, his gaze flicking back towards the center of town. “I’ve spent a lot of time angry at myself for it,” he puffs air into his cheeks before releasing it, and his mouth changes to a smile. “When you first came here, I thought you were nice. Which I also thought was stupid, because no one is nice anymore, but somehow, you were. You made everyone feel like they were important. You’d ask me about my day, remember the little things. Give me extra rations because you knew I forgot to eat.”

“It’s the right thing to do,” you say softly. “That doesn’t make me special.”

“It does,” he insists, and he tightens the lid of the canteen. “I tried not to let it happen. I really did, because your Joel’s.” The honest in his voice breaks your heart, and you dig the blunts of your nails into your palm. “You’re the person he loves, and he deserves that. He deserves someone like you.”

You cock your head, blinking in the sunlight. “What about you?”

Tommy’s smile is sad and he shrugs his shoulders. “That’s not the point,” lifting the canteen, he points to you. “The point is that Joel has spent the majority of his life thinking he was only made to survive, not live. And then you came along and he smiles more.” Tommy laughs softly, propping a hand on his hip. “Y’know how strange that is? Seeing my brother smile?”

You smile faintly through the ache. “He’s always been stubborn.”

“True,” Tommy concedes. “He has been. Stubborn, and angry, but now also happy. You…make him happy, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted since he showed up here with Ellie.”

Tommy stops, and you understand it then. Tommy isn’t asking you for anything, or trying to change the future. His simply carrying a feeling he never asked for, and needs to explain it.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, because you are, even if it isn’t your fault.

Tommy smiles and it’s sad again. “Don’t apologize for being someone worth loving.”

“Tommy…”

“I mean it,” he intrupts, and he looks towards the way you had come, where your home is with his brother. “Joel’s a lucky man, and so am I. I get to call you family soon,” his voice drops to a somber whisper. “And that’s enough.”

You chew at your lip before moving forward, and hugging Tommy around the neck. He freezes for a moment before his body loosens and he’s hugging you back, like someone who’s grateful.

From across the settlement, Joel stands in the yard infront of your home, watching. He can’t hear what you and Tommy had exchanged, but he can feel the tension dissipate. For the first time since his conversation with Tommy at the Tipsy Bison, Joel’s shoulders relax, because he knew something Tommy already did. You weren’t something to be won, or to fight over. You were simply something good to be cherished by all.

x

IYLMKITY ML

Joel Miller ML

Joel had always been difficult to reach, he wasn’t cruel to you, never mistreated you..but he was always distant. Sometimes it felt like standing outside a house with all the lights on and knowing someone was inside, but every door remained locked. You tried to be understanding to it, his ways, his habits, but sometimes it became harder than others to just let things be.

He’d brush his fingers against yours while walking through town. He’d quietly hand you the better portion of food without saying a word, he’d stand between you and danger before you even noticed it existed. Joel showed he cared in his own ways, you always noticed this. The problem was that caring was where he stopped, communication was always limited. The closer you got, the further he seemed to be. When he didn’t look fine, he’d insist he was, that was when he’d shut down the most.

Every time you needed reassurance, he’d look at you like you were asking him to translate a language he’d never learned. Yet, you kept trying, kept yourself hopeful that eventually something would change. You knew what he’d gone through and that was only because Tommy told you.

“Joel, talk to me.”

“Nothin’ to talk about.”

“Yes there is..”

“No.”

It happened so often it became routine. You reaching and reaching, him withdrawing. He disappeared further and before you knew it, months turned into years of the same cycle. You somehow convinced yourself to accept the scraps, a hand on your lower back, a kiss before he left.

The occasional “You alright?” muttered while cleaning a rifle. But the words you desperately needed never came.

No “I need you” or “I love you.”

Not even “I’m scared you’ll leave.”

You started telling yourself you didn’t need those things although your heart yearned for it. You convinced yourself that maybe this was simply who Joel was. Maybe loving him meant accepting less.

Until one night you simply couldn’t take it any longer..

You had a terrible day..enough small things piling together until your chest felt too heavy. You found Joel on the porch looking out into the sunset.

“Can I sit with you?” He nodded.

You sat beside him as he remained silent. The silence felt like forever until eventually you whispered-

“I don’t think you know me.”

Joel frowned.

“What?”

“I don’t think you want to.”

His jaw tightened.

“Here we go.” The words hit harder than if he’d yelled.

Here we go.

Like your pain was an inconvenience, as if your heart was a chore. You stared at him lost in thought.

“I’ve spent years trying to let you in.”

“You know me.” He uttered low.

“No.”

Your voice cracked.

“I know what you let me know.”

Joel looked away immediately and that told you everything.

You laughed softly..the kind of laugh that comes right before crying.

“I don’t know what scares you more, Joel. Losing me or needing me.” His face tense, he wouldn’t dare look at you.

“You done?” You froze then slowly nodded.

“Mhm.”

That was the first time you stopped trying..Joel didn’t notice. Not at first.

Avoidant people rarely notice when someone starts pulling away because they’re used to the distance themselves. You stopped asking questions, stopped seeking comfort. You even stopped waiting up for him.

Joel just thought things had finally settled down.No more difficult conversations or emotional confrontations. For a while he actually felt relieved.

Then he noticed you didn’t smile at him anymore.Not a real smile at least..the one that used to light up your entire face. A few weeks later he realized you hadn’t touched him first in over a month.

A month after that he woke up and discovered he couldn’t remember the last time you’d said “I love you.”Something cold settled in his chest, fear..

He ignored it.

Until the night he came home and found a packed bag sitting beside the door.

Joel stared at it, then at you.

“What is that?”

You folded a shirt, not answering him.

His pulse began accelerating.

“What is that?” Finally you looked up and the exhaustion in your eyes nearly stopped his heart.

“I’m leaving.” Joel’s heart sunk.

“What?” He walked towards you.

“I’m leaving, Joel.”

“No.” He responded instantly like a reflex.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Exhaustion in your voice.

“The hell are you talkin’ about? You been fine” he took a step closer, confused, defensive.

You smiled sadly.

“I’ve been fine becuase I haven’t been talking to you. That’s what you consider fine?” You shook your head as if that was all the confirmation you needed.

The realization hit him all at once, you weren’t fine. You had just given up..

“So that’s it huh?” He spoke louder, you could hear the anger in his voice. He was pissed but not at you, at himself.

Every conversation he’d dismissed, every time he’d watched you cry and convinced himself giving you space was enough. Every damn excuse he made.

You wouldn’t respond, swallowing your tears as he watched you, shoulders tense.

“And where the hell you gonna go at this time?”

“Maria said I could stay with her until they find somewhere else for me-“

“My brother?” He cut you off defensively, still you wouldn’t look at him.

“Tommy knew about this?”

“Joel, I just told her about an hour ago.” You spoke softly as you zipped up the bag. A wave of emotions coming over him, anger turned into guilt. Guilt that he had pushed you away…that he made you feel unloved. It couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

You turned placing your bag over your shoulder and that’s when it set in over him…panic. Joel’s expression changed.

“Wait a minute, baby-“ he rushed towards you, his hand brushing over your waist.

“Let’s talk about this, you don’t need to go.” A knot in your throat forming, a look of desperation in his eyes you hadn’t ever seen.

“It’s too late to talk-“

“You don’t mean that, come on, put your bag down. Well- we’ll fix this, whatever you need me to do” He took your hand in his as you slowly shook your head.

“I can’t-“

“The hell do you want me to do dammit?!” He suddenly yelled, anger taking over him, his tone harsher than he meant it to be. Never had he spoken like this to you before.

“The hell you want me to say huh?! What is it?! What do you need from me?!”

“I needed you!” You finally yelled back with tears. You pulled your hand away, Joel stood in shock. Just like that he watched you walk out of his life without turning back..

His chest felt tight, he stumbled slowly towards the wall and placed his back against it. He knew this feeling all too well. The walls feeling like they were caving in, he loosened a button at the top of his shirt as he closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. His fear becoming a reality.

~~

The first week after you left was the quietest Joel had ever known..your absence followed him everywhere. He hated it. The worst part was at night, he’d reach for you half asleep only to feel the cold sheets beside him.

I needed you.

Joel could hear your voice over and over again saying this, the pain in your voice haunted him.

He sat on his porch long after sunset, staring at the house a few doors down where Tommy and Maria had taken you in. He could see the light from the kitchen window. He could imagine you inside, laughing, safe..without him.

The thought made his chest ache, he looked away trying to shake the image out of his head.

~~

The next morning, Tommy found Joel repairing a fence that didn’t need repairing.

“You fixed that last week.”

Joel hammered another nail.

“It’s loose.”

“It ain’t loose.”

Joel eyes narrowed on him, Tommy sighed.

“Still thinkin’ about her?”

Joel stopped moving.

As if there had been a moment when he wasn’t. He stared silently at the screw.

“I screwed up.”

Tommy nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to, Tommy. I swear I didn’t” he looked up at his brother who gave him a silent nod.

“She..she ok?”

“She’s not talkin’ much but she’s fine” Tommy responded, Joel looked down pressing his lips together.

“Come on, let’s have a drink, you look like you need one.” He proceeded to turn towards his door.

“I can’t-“

“And why not?”

“She’s-she’s in there ain’t she?”

“She went to check on the horses with Maria, they won’t be back for a bit. Besides I’ll be damned if I can’t have a drink with my own brother in my house” Tommy chuckled as he led the way in.

As soon as Joel walked in he could see your shoes by the door, your favorite indoor slip ons he had found for you brand new a while back. He kept his head down following his brother to the kitchen, hadn’t even noticed his brother was talking till he slammed a cup on the counter before him.

“You there, Joel?” He quickly looked up.

“Huh, yeah. I’m ready”

Tommy laughed as he grabbed the bottle and poured them both a drink. He could see how hurt his brother was, how distracted he was.

“Shit, brother if you can’t let me in, at least let her in. You got yourself a good woman. Not much that would put up with your shit” he smiled before taking a sip. He tried to break a smile out of his brother but it was harder than he thought.

Then they both heard the door open.

Both men turned toward the door to see you and Maria walking in, a smile on your face as you spoke about how being around the horses felt relaxing. How you enjoyed taking care of them. So lost in the conversation you hadn’t noticed Tommy was sitting at the table with someone else across from him, until you looked up. You stopped right in your tracks, your smile instantly disappearing. Joel stood up awkwardly clearing his throat, he knew he wasn’t wanted there. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. He could see Maria giving Tommy a look, a hand on her hip piercing him with her eyes.

“Hey-“ Maria’s eyes softened as she turned to you.

“Let me show you what I was working on earlier” she took your hand and pulled you up the stairs. Joel’s eyes didn’t move from where you had stood, the hurt of the realization that you didn’t even want to look at him. He threw his head back chugging back the last of the alcohol in his cup and slammed the glass down. Without saying a word he walked out.

~~

Maria could see how distracted you were, seeing Joel completely threw you off.

“Sorry about that, I’ll have a talk with Tommy. He should’ve known-“

“No, it’s fine. They’re brothers Maria…don’t say anything. I’m not mad I’m just…I wasn’t expecting to see him.” You stared off into space thinking about how tired he looked. Maybe he was having trouble sleeping again.

Maybe he wasn’t eating right again.

You shook off those thoughts the best you could and sighed.

~~

Joel didn’t step near Tommy’s house for a couple weeks, giving you space but still he could see you from afar when you’d step out.

A few days later Joel showed up at Tommy’s house carrying a basket.

Maria opened the door then blinked with slight confusion.

“Is that bread?”

Joel awkwardly held it up.

You’d once mentioned loving fresh bread. So Joel had spent three miserable hours trying to learn. The loaf looked lopsided, burned on one side.

Maria stared, then couldn’t help but laugh.

Joel looked offended.

“It ain’t funny.”

“It absolutely is.”

She laughed harder.

Joel shoved the basket toward her.

“Just give it to her.”

Maria folded her arms.

“No.”

Joel frowned.

“What do you mean no?”

“You can’t buy your way out of this.”

“It ain’t buying.”

“It kind of is.”

Joel sighed heavily.

“Maria, please. I’m tryin’”

Maria sighed, she knew Joel long enough to see when he had regret. To see when something was hurting him to his core.

Maria continued. “Joel…she spent months feeling lonely while standing right next to you.”

Joel looked down, he knew she was right.

“Didn’t mean to…to push her away. Didn’t mean to hurt her” the more he thought about the pain he caused, the angrier he became with himself.

“Give her time.”

“How much time?”His voice came out rough as he looked up.

“As much as she needs.”

Joel hated that answer but he nodded anyway.

~~

He tried. God, he tried. For almost three weeks he didn’t knock on your door. Didn’t force conversations, instead he began to quietly change his habits.

The way you always wished he would..

He started showing up to community dinners.

Actually talking to people. He helped Eugene’s widow repair her roof, fixed playground equipment for the children. He thought of you as he did everything. He thought about how he shut everyone out..including you.

Especially you.

~~

One afternoon you were helping Maria hang laundry when Ellie appeared.

“You should go talk to him.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Not you too.”

Ellie shrugged. “I’m serious.”

“I’m not ready.”

“Okay.” You paused, that was suspiciously easy.

“Okay?”

Ellie nodded.

“Yeah.”

Then she smirked.

“But you should know he’s becoming annoying.”

You sighed.

“What?”

“Guy’s like a sad country song.”

You laughed despite yourself. Ellie pointed toward Joel’s house. “He stares at your window.”

“Oh my God.”

“Not in a creepy way.”

“That doesn’t help.”

Ellie snorted.

“He’s pathetic.”

Your smile faded slightly. Because a small part of you wondered if Joel really was hurting as much as everyone claimed.

~~

It had been a month.

A month since you told Joel you couldn’t keep loving someone who acted like he could take you or leave you. A month since you packed a small bag and moved into Tommy and Maria’s spare room. A month without feeling the warmth of his body beside yours in bed.

You’d cried enough that you simply felt numb.

The front door opened, Tommy stepped inside first as you chopped up potatoes on the counter.

“Need a hand with the rest?” he called over his shoulder.

A familiar voice answered.

“Already got it.”

Your knife stopped against the potato.

Joel. Your stomach turned…but not exactly in a dreadful way.

He walked in carrying two heavy sacks of flour over one shoulder and a crate of canned goods in his arms. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, a light sheen of sweat on his skin. He set everything down without a word, nodding politely to Maria.

“Found coffee beans too,” he said.

Maria smiled knowingly. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Joel shrugged.

“Figured I’d save Tommy another trip.”

Tommy snorted.

“You hate making trips into town.”

Joel scratched the back of his neck.

“Guess I don’t mind so much lately.”

You knew exactly who that comment was for.

You refused to look up.

~~

For the next hour he stayed busy. He helped out Tommy with a few things that needed fixing around the house. Eventually it was just you and Joel, you on one side of the room cutting vegetables and him on the other, fixing God knows what.

He never once asked for attention, he never looked to see if you were watching. Which somehow made it worse.

Because you were…every single second.

So much so as you began to chop up some carrots you weren’t paying attention and your hand slipped. You gasped loudly as the sharpness of the knife came into contact with your skin. Joel instantly looked up to see you quickly looking for a rag to cover the wound. Without thinking he put down what he was working on and rushed towards you. He had already seen the blood dripping down your finger so he knew it must’ve been deep.

“You alright?” Without hesitation he grabbed your hands but you held the rag still against it as he attempted to pull your hands apart.

“No it’s bleeding-don’t-“

“Let me take a look” his eyes met yours and you suddenly didn’t know how to speak. You watched as he gently removed the rag, his brows furrowed noticing the deep cut. In that moment you wished Tommy and Maria would appear from wherever the hell they were.

“It’s fine, Joel”

“It ain’t fine, you got yourself pretty good. Sit down-“

“Joel-“

“Damn it baby, just sit down” your heart jumped. He caught himself as he called you baby but he didn’t take it back.

After grabbing what he could find around the house he pushed everything on the table aside and placed a bottle of whiskey down with a first aid kit. Instead of sitting across from you at the table, he pulled a chair up beside you and turned your chair to face him, pulling it toward him.

“Could’ve just told me to turn” you rolled your eyes.

“Figure I’d move quicker.” He responded as you looked over at the bottle of liquor.

“Not the whiskey” you sighed.

“Yes the whiskey.” He responded without looking at you.

An entire month since the two of you had spoken more than a passing hello. A month since everything fell apart. Yet somehow you still found yourself sitting in the chair beside him without another word.

He unscrewed the bottle as you swallowed anxiously.

“This’ll sting.”

“I remember.”

His eyes looked up to yours.

“So do I.”

He tipped your hand over the table, his fingers warm around your wrist.

“Ready?” You nodded and he poured.

The whiskey hit the cut like fire.

“Shit-“ You jerked forward with a sharp gasp, eyes squeezing shut.

Without thinkinf you grabbed onto something, or rather..someone.

Your free hand had wrapped tightly around Joel’s. Your fingers dug into his calloused skin hard enough that your knuckles turned white.

He didn’t flinch or let go, instead he leaned in closer and softly blew across the cut.

The cool air eased the burning just enough that you slowly opened your eyes.

Joel was still there. Close enough that you could see every little line around his eyes, every fleck of gray in his beard. His knees against yours, you didn’t want to pull away.

His thumb absentmindedly rubbed small circles against the side of your wrist while he continued inspecting the cut.

“Little deeper than I thought.” He spoke low.

“But you’ll keep the hand.” A tiny laugh escaped you. It surprised both of you, he couldn’t help but smirk.

“There she is.” Then there was silence, your smile faded.

Joel finally looked down, then over and landed his eyes on your intertwined hands. Only then did you realize you were still holding his.

Your fingers hadn’t loosened once.

“Oh…”

You started to pull away. Joel’s hand instinctively tightened just enough to stop you.

You didn’t move.

His eyes lifted back to yours.

“You okay?”

There was so much hidden inside those two words. Not just about a stupid cut but about everything that’s happened.

You simply nodded.

“…Yeah.”

He studied you for another second like he wanted to ask a hundred more questions. Instead, he let out a deep breath.

“Alright.”

He didn’t want to pull away but he did so slowly to finish cleaning up your cut. Very carefully, he cleaned the last of the blood away. His fingers were gentle as he spread antibiotic ointment over the cut.

“You’ll wanna keep this dry today.” You nodded again.

He wrapped the gauze around your palm before securing it with tape.

“There.” He turned your hand over once to check his work.

“Should heal fine.”

You looked down at the neat bandage.

“..Thank you.”

Joel’s eyes lingered on your face.

“You don’t gotta thank me.”

“I know.” For a moment neither of you moved.

Then the back door opened.

“There you two are-“

Tommy stopped mid sentence.

Maria looked between the two of you sitting close together. Joel immediately leaned back, still holding your hand.

You quickly pulled your hand into your lap and looked away.

Maria frowned.

“What the hell happened?”

You stood a little too fast, nearly knocking the chair over.

“I-“

You held up your bandaged hand.

“I cut myself chopping carrots.”

Tommy’s eyes widened.

“Bad?”

“No.” You forced a small smile.

“I’m fine.”

Maria looked at Joel, then back at you.

Joel had already capped the whiskey bottle and closed the first aid kit, expression carefully unreadable.

“It’ll be alright,” he said simply.

“Really…im fine.”

“I think I’m just gonna…go lie down for a bit.”

Without waiting for anyone to answer, you slipped past Maria and Tommy, keeping your head down as you hurried toward the guest room. The bedroom door clicked shut behind you. Only then did you lean back against it, closing your eyes. Your hand still tingled beneath the bandage.

But what lingered far more vividly was the memory of Joel’s rough hand in yours…

And how, for just a few quiet moments, neither of you had wanted to let go.

You overheard Maria telling Joel to stay for dinner, a part of you not sure how to feel about it.

You didn’t hear Joel say much, his mind still lost in the moment of being so damn close to you.

Well feeling so close, yet so far.

~~

Everyone settled around the table. Ellie was away helping Dina with patrol schedules keeping herself busy. Conversation flowed around you. Tommy talked about a broken fence, Maria laughed about someone’s escaped chickens.

Joel mostly listened. Once in a while he’d look your way, not enough to make it obvious but still enough that you caught him every time.

~~

Halfway through dinner your fork slipped from your hand, clattering onto the floor.

Before you could bend, Joel was already kneeling.He picked it up then reached for another clean fork from the drawer.

“There.”

His voice was quiet, your fingers brushed when you took it. Neither of you pulled away immediately.

“Thanks.”

He nodded once.

“You’re welcome.”

Later that evening Tommy disappeared outside with Maria to check on the horses.

Leaving the two of you alone on the porch.

Neither of them was subtle.You sat on the swing, staring out toward the fading sunset.

Joel leaned against the porch railing, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Your hand ok?” He asked as if it hadn’t just happened a couple hours ago. He knew you were fine, but the silence killed him.

“Mhm, it’s fine,” you spoke softly as you looked down at your hand not noticing the way he looked over his shoulder back to you.

“I ain’t here to make things hard.”

“I know.”

“I told myself I’d leave you alone.”

“So why are you here?” You looked up at him. A slight smirk appeared on his lips.

“I lasted twenty eight days.”

“You counted?”

“Every one.” He looked down at the porch boards.

“I kept thinkin’ you’d be happier.”

“Well, I wasn’t.”

“I wasn’t either.” He spoke gently, he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I spent a lotta years thinkin’ if I kept people far enough away…couldn’t lose ’em.”

You stayed quiet.

“I realized all that did was make me lose ’em anyway.” You watched him carefully.

A month ago he would’ve shut down, changed the subject, hell not even have begun this conversation.

Now he stood there, uncomfortable as hell, saying the things he’d spent years refusing to admit.

His eyes finally met yours.

“Baby, I miss you. Every. Damn. Day.” His voice cracked.

“I’d wake up thinkin’ I’d hear you movin’ around the house. Hell, I still catch myself makin’ enough coffee for two.”

You looked down your lap, his stare too intense.

He continued carefully.

“I know it’s only been a month but I’ve done a lot of thinkin’ and I know what you need me to be and I’m sorry I failed you for so damn long.” His eyes teared up but you still couldn’t look up at him. Instead you fiddled with your fingers on your lap, your heart racing. And that’s when he slowly got down on his knee before you, his hands gently cradling yours.

“I can’t lose you, baby. You and Ellie are the only thing that keeps me goin’.” For some reason as happy as you were to hear his feelings, you almost also felt..angry. You pulled your hands away and shoved them into his chest but he held his balance.

“Why the hell did it take you so long to realize that?!” He began to shake his head.

“You don’t get it, baby I always realized it. I just…I just was too damn stupid to say it.” He noticed a tear falling from your eye and it pulled at his heart. He couldn’t take seeing you cry. He looked down at the floor and clenched his jaw, his heart pounding hard in his chest.

“Please come home, baby. I can’t…I ain’t sleepin’ without you. I need you with me,” you looked up, his eyes big and puppy like. You’d never seen him so broken. You parted your lips but couldn’t speak at first.

“I’m..I’m not ready,” you spoke barely a whisper. Your words breaking him. You stood up with him still on his knees before you and rushed back inside into your room, holding your tears in until you locked the door.

Joel held his tears in feeling the burning knot in his throat, he looked down at the ground disappointed in himself. He knew you had every right to feel how you did.

Just as Tommy and Maria walked back towards their home they saw Joel leave with a clear look of disappointment. Tommy sighed and shook his head.

When he walked inside he found you in the kitchen washing dishes, Maria gave Tommy a nod and left you two alone.

“Should’ve left the dishes so your hand can heal” Tommy stood at the doorway. You jumped up at the sound of his voice not having heard the front door open.

“It’s fine” you shrugged. After a moment of silence he continued.

“I saw Joel leave.”

You shut off the water and took a slow breath.

“Did you?” You answered low.

“I haven’t seen him this broken in a while,”

“If you’re trying to make me feel bad it’s not working-“

“Ain’t trynna make you feel bad. My brother can be a bit of an idiot but he’s an idiot who’s crazy for you.” You didn’t respond nor turn to face him either.

“He’s tryin’, sis”

You slowly faced him.

“Now after all this time. It took me to leave for him to show-“

“I know, I know. I told you, he’s an idiot.” You sighed.

“Give him one more chance, let him show you who he really is.”

~~

That night you sat in your room in the dark, contemplating to see Joel. Thinking of what to say, what to do. Eventually you pushed yourself out of the room, Tommy and Maria both asleep you quietly walked out the front door.

You could see Joel’s light still on, of course he was awake. Taking a deep breath walking towards his steps you whispered to yourself what you would say, so lost in thought you were taken by surprise when Joel appeared out the side of the house carrying a lantern. He himself surprised to see you stood speechless. You suddenly felt stupid.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have come” you proceeded to turn back but Joel quickly caught up.

“No” he caught your hand gently turning you back.

“Please, don’t go” he whispered. You stood silent for a moment, his eyes tracing your features.

“I thought about what you said” you whispered. “And I don’t know what to think, I don’t wanna feel what I felt for so long-“

“You won’t” he assured you stepping closer.

“I promise you I’ll give you every damn piece of me, whatever you need, baby I just can’t lose you again.” His eyes desperate, he meant every word he said. You didn’t respond at first, just quietly looked up at him before taking a deep breath.

“Can I stay the night?” You whispered as a look of relief took over him. He pulled you in closer, God he wanted to kiss you and you knew he did but you watched him stop himself.