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#dina p
mystar-girl57 · 1 year
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𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Dealer!Ellie Williams x Jealous Fem!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Some girls just need to back off. - Wc 2k
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Drug use, drinking, prompts of sex but nothing explicit or between reader and Ellie
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The beat of the bass drummed in your ears and the haze of the joints settled over the room. It was like every other party you had attended with your dealer. Shots being slung back, drinks being mixed, joints distributed among partyers and some broad trying to grind themselves on your dealer— or should you say your girlfriend’s lap.
You stood there across the room, your back against the wall nursing whatever concation you had blindly thrown together into a flimsy red solo cup. Across the dance floor (if you could even call it that) you had a perfect view of Ellie had her little shop passing out bags and pre rolls and taking whatever cash she was given. If it was too little she’d demand for more but if it was too much well lets just say people were too drunk to care.
You took another sip of the bitter liquid and winced at the after taste. Bourbon and Vodka with a squeeze of lemon wasn’t the best of mixes but honestly you could care less. The only intention you had with the pungent drink was to get so drunk that you could get the image of the platinum blonde leaning over the table talking to your girlfriend. You glowered at the sight of her boobs spilling out of her top as her big blue doe eyes were transfixed on Ellie and her glossy lips were jutted out in a pout.
You should have been used to this by now. Your girlfriend was attractive. What could you say? With her boyish charm and bold personality, she knew how to sweet talk girls and get them to fall at her feet. But as Ellie had promised you hundreds of times before the only one she wanted hanging on her arm was you and you alone. She claimed that the advances she got from all the girls at the parties (and in classes) meant nothing to her and you tried to believe her, you did! But seeing it happen so often made you turn green with jealousy.
As the blonde took the blunt that she had begged Ellie to roll for her she turned and blew a sweet kiss to the auburn haired girl, slipping her a piece of paper. You watched Ellie look at the little note and you expected her to just crumple it up and throw it out but to your horror the dealer shook her head with an amused chuckle and placed it in the front pocket of her flannel. Your mouth ran dry watching a blush creep onto your girlfriend's face as she eyed the blonde dancing not too far away and it was obvious she was putting on a show for Ellie the way she shook her ass.
Your stomach felt tight with nausea and you emptied the drink with a quick gulp and slammed it down into the trash can. You had enough. For the six months that you had been with Ellie you had tried to just brush away all the glances the girls she was around gave her but never once had you seen Ellie actually watch the woman walk away and keep the phone number she received.
You began to look around for Jesse and Dina to tell them that you were leaving since they had given you a ride and you knew Jesse would panic if you had just up and disappeared at a party like this.
When you spotted them they were out dancing, having fun and laughing hanging onto each other. That ugly feeling started to spread from your stomach and creep up your stomach at the sight. You couldn’t remember the last time that you and Ellie had danced around with each other like that, she was so busy with her weed business. Which again you understood, it was how she made a living but the looks and the smiles that she gave that blonde were stuck in your mind. Those were the looks reserved for you. When you walk together through town, when you wake up the morning after. The lingering glances the touches, now all you could see was Ellie and that girl sharing them. Not wanting to interrupt Jesse and Dina you prompted to just sending them a text that you were leaving as you stepped out the door.
The cool night air felt like a cup of cool fresh water being poured over you. You took a deep breath in and let it out after a few seconds, relishing in the quiet outside compared to the nosy house behind you. You took one more look at the large frat house behind you. If you left, would Ellie even notice? Would she go to your dorm and take the risk hoping you wake up in the morning to find her with you. Or do you go back in and act as if the scene you had just witnessed never happened. Thinking of seeing that girl showing off for your Ellie made you want to throw up and you subconsciously leaned over closer to the ground in case you did.
After nothing came up and Ellie never came out you decided it’d be best if you headed back to your dorm and just hoped Ellie would be there in the morning.
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You woke up cold and alone, the spot that you had left Ellie in the bed empty, only Jesse’s and Dina’s snores from the room right next to you filled the silence. A feeling of unease bubbled in your throat. She had never done this, she always came home to you no matter the hour, or you’d go to her.
Rolling over in your bed to your nightstand you grabbed your phone and clicked the power button. The screen illuminated and the image of you and Ellie laying on the couch appeared. The image was time frozen in place, you leaned back on Ellie, the light of the fire that was out of frame lit up your faces, your smiles as the picture had been taken in the middle of you laughing. That was the night you both had finally gotten high enough to make out in her room and admit these confusing feelings you were having for each other.
You would’ve smiled but the lack of calls and texts from Ellie only fueled your worry. The only notifications your phone showed was 6 missed calls from Jesse and 3 from Dina followed by several messages from the two asking where you were and then Jesse messaging on the group chat between you, Dina and Ellie at 4:34 a.m. saying: Don’t worry, I found her sleeping at dorm. Call off the search party.
Dina responded with a “Thank God” followed by a “haha” but there was nothing from Ellie.
That feeling bubbled up again and your throat felt tight. Where was Ellie? Had something happened to her? Did the cops show up because of a noise complaint and they caught her with the weed? Did she get into an accident on the way home?
So many questions rushed through your mind but you refused to acknowledge the one that was weighing on your heart: Did she go home with that girl?
After about 2 hours of waiting by the phone the clock shifted from 7:56 a.m. to 10:00 a.m. you decided that it was time to investigate for yourself what was going on. Pulling the blankets off of your body it didn’t take you long to get out of the clothes from last night's party, lace up your converse and be out the door by 10:33 a.m.
The walk to Ellie’s dorm didn’t take too long since her dorm complex was less than a block away. The ID scanner buzzed from red to green as you put the spare entry card that Ellie gave you up to the scanner. The large glass doors unlocked with a loud click but the sound didn’t bring you joy like it used to. You made your way up the fire escape stairs, your slow footsteps echoing throughout the bleak stairwell. Most times people took the fire escape steps you would hear them rushing up or down the steps trying to go as fast as they could, but you were slow.
‘Thlap’
‘Thlap’
‘Thlap’
You were stalling.
The fifth floor came sooner than you were like and with each step that you took down the hall towards Ellie’s room and that feeling of anxiousness filled you once more. You came to a stop at the end of the hall and looked to the basic brown door.
The door’s faux gold number shimmered in the morning sunlight creeping in from the window beside you. Your shadow being cast across the forest themed decorated door with the names “ELLIE and DINA” in gold in the middle. Dina’s handywork, Ellie’s idea. You raised your first to knock but noticing the time you knew that Ellie wouldn’t be up yet. Glancing down on the car key lanyard sticking out of your pants pocket that also contained your student ID and your dorm key you also had Ellie’s key hanging there. For emergencies she said.
Was this an emergency?
In your book you suppose it was.
You lifted the silver key to the knob’s lock with shaky hands and it slipped in smoothly. Taking a deep breath you held the knob and twisted the door unlocking and pushing open with a creak.
You peaked your head in and you were met with silence. You sighed with soft relief, better silence than the other vulgar sounds you were expecting. Stepping all the way in you closed the door behind you gently. “Ellie?” You called out walking down the hall to the kitchen area. Ellie wasn’t there, but she had been. There was a pot full of coffee sitting there on the counter. And it was warm.
Worry set in again, Dina was back at your dorm with Jesse, you checked before you left, and Ellie hated coffee. So that meant.
“Who are you?”
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© 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫-𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝟓𝟕 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬
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poisonedprose · 6 months
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2k follower event ! - 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐖 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓
carrd - nav - masterlists - reqs
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i cannot believe we are at 2k??? 😭😭 this is so crazy to me, thank you all so much<33 i love you guys and i love creating for all of you and im so glad you all enjoy my work and have decided to follow me and support me 🫶🫶 enjoy the (emoish) y2k (ish) theme for 2k followers <3
NOTE you will need a twitter account to view most, if not all, of these links!
fandoms this event includes ; the last of us, resident evil, call of duty (im not comfortable doing any of the other fandoms i would normally do.)
CD PLAYER - NOW PLAYING: P LINKS FOR 2K
BABY TEE - the last of us
⋆ DINA putting the strap she found on patrol to good use ⋆ ELLIE helping her inexperienced!best friend ⋆ ABBY teasing you after you backtalked her ⋆ JESSE letting you ride him before he goes out for patrol ⋆ grinding on JOEL's boner to wake him up in the morning ⋆ getting your pussy ate by DINA ⋆ ELLIE gently fucking her cutesy girlfriend with a dildo
STAR CLIPS - resident evil
⋆ CARLOS fucking his brat!gf softly as a punishment after begging for rough sex ⋆ re4!LEON using his roommates cunt in the middle of the night ⋆ re2!LEON eating out his best friend and then softly fucking them ⋆ ADA watching you squirm for her own pleasure ⋆ softdom!JILL letting you fuck her with her strap ⋆ pleasuring yourself and re2!CLAIRE at the same time ⋆ trans!LUIS handcuffing you and fucking you with his strap
MINI SKIRT - call of duty: mw
⋆ KONIG using his virgin!gf's thighs to get off ⋆ PRICE giving his neighbor a nice lil gift for christmas ⋆ after a hard mission SOAP needs to relax by eating a nice warm pussy ⋆ teasing GHOST under the table during a meeting ⋆ mean!SOAP who keeps edging you even though your right on the brink of the best orgasm of your life :(( ⋆ GAZ letting you use him however you please ⋆ PRICE makes love to you before he goes on a 3 month long mission
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microscotch · 19 days
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totally random, but honestly up until remaking the hood story images i never quite realized that pretty much every character still had a different iteration displayed of them. only until putting a recreation with their in-game models next to it. brandi? different face. dina & nina? different faces. don? cass? mort? ophelia? loki & circe? buzz? pt? puck? romeo? consort?
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thebestestdancers · 4 months
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i try to keep yua prety in the dark in terms of talkng about her character and relationships adn feelings on stuff (outside of like. jokes) but i dont want anyone to mistake that for like ignoring her cahracter in favor of others. prolrgomenon doesnt necessarily have one true protagonist but if i had to pick one yua would absolutely be tthe choice
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wheelie-butch · 10 months
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Mediation has not been going well lately bc every time I just think of Dina Superstore the whole time
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mothinked · 2 years
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i miss my girl and my boy
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Atleast he might have supper (I think Dina befriends the guy somehow, maybe she introduces him to the others)
Oooo!! That sounds fun! They're both been through Things, have them bond
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elslvrsworld · 2 months
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nerd!ellie x cheerleader!reader
summary: ellie caught the attention of the head cheerleader, who’s always successful in her endeavors.
a/n: hi loviesss, im not sure if i like this so lmk how u feel :) i always love this prompt tho its so cutiepatootie. thank u to everyone that voted, i thought i'd give you the fic a little early as a treat for my irregular posting :(, one of my requests is next & then the spence fic :p
cw: men dni, 3.7k words, porn w/ plot, wlw sex, nipple sucking (r!receiving), oral (e!receiving), degradation (vanilla lol) + praise, pet names (baby), vulgarity, profanity, sub!ellie, dom!reader, inexperienced!ellie, readers kinda hot, stereotypical nerd nd cheerleader dynamic, fingering (e!receiving), scissoring, loser!coded ellie tbh, black!reader, if i forgot anything lmk :))
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"five, six, seven, eight" you yelled, counting off your routine for yourself and your team as you ran through it. you and the team were right next to the quad, on the grass, all in something similar to sports bras, leggings, little shorts, etc;
as you danced around in tight clothing, your deep skin glistening with the sweat from the beaming sun, ellie sat at one of the picnic tables with dina and jesse, staring at you a little too hard.
"els...? ellie!" dina snapped in front of ellie's face, confused as to why she's in some sort of trance.
"m'sorry-- sorry, i was distracted" ellie mumbled giving her full attention to dina. that wasn't enough, dina furrowed her thick brows at ellie before turning to look at whatever ellie was staring at and began to laugh. jesse looked in the same direction as dina and also began laughing.
ellie huffed, reaching over the table to shove them, "shut the fuck up, she might think you're laughing at her" ellie mumbled the last part, looking away from her friends in embarrassment.
"awe, does els have a crush on the cheer captain?" dina teased, giggling at ellies flushed face, her glasses sitting on her freckled nose. "y'know she's my lab partner, right? actually.." dina said, thinking about something before turning around, yelling for you.
ellies eyes widened, before whisper-yelling at dina, "what the actual fuck, what fucking fuck--"
"hey deens, whats up?" you smiled bubbly, smiling at jesse and ellie, to be polite, of course. little did ellie know, you've noticed her before.
multiple times.
"i heard you needed help with trig? ellie here is actually really good" dina smiled, plotting in her head.
"wait, really?" your smile widened, you walked over to ellies side of the table and sat down, "can you help me, please" you basically begged, clasping your hands together, as you whined for her help.
dirty, dirty pictures flashed through ellies head but she shook them out, "y-yea sure" ellie scratched her shoulder, avoiding eye contact. you squealed, before looking for a piece of paper, you say ellies sketch book, and without invading her privacy, wrote your number on the corner of the page.
ellie was frozen the entire time, especially when pulled her into a hug and whispering in her ear, "you're the best" before getting back and up and jogging to your team, who're all grabbing a drink of water.
“you’re welcome” jesse said, while slipping an arm over dinas shoulder as she gave him an ‘you didn’t even do anything’ look.
“i hate you both” ellie frowned, her eyes lingering to the beauty of your handwriting, everything about you was beautiful she couldn’t handle it.
“sure you do, els.” dina laughed, leaning into jesse.
maybe studying with you would be better than third wheeling with dina and jesse.
“so, what d’you need help with?” ellie asked awkwardly, as she sat across from you in a cafe. you both had agreed on this place. every tuesday, you and ellie would be here. together.
“well..” you rambled, giving her a long list of the trig topics you were struggling with, even throwing in a few stories of how you tried to study but always ended up with D’s and at best a C minus.
ellie tried to focus, trust me, she really did. but there you sat, her long lived crush, in a pink tube top, with the cutest faded jeans that traced your curves, and ellie was just a girl.
could you blame her?
when you finished your rant, you looked at ellie expectantly, and she didn’t notice, she was too busy staring at your tits. that was before she realized the silence and shook the image out of her mind, before letting you pull out your homework so she could help explain whatever the fuck was going on.
and thats how it was every tuesday. you’d rant about your inability to do math while ellie was distracted with the dips and curves on your body, until she snapped out of it and helped you with math.
in the upcoming days, you noticed how cute ellie actually was, the way her freckled nose scrunched when she saw your wrong answer, her soft smile when you corrected yourself, her signature half up-half down hairstyle with her short auburn hair.
she was fucking adorable.
and a little bit of a loser.
as she got more comfortable, the unfortunate math rants would turn into actual conversations, you telling ellie about your new routines, even showing her them while she admired you subtly, ellie raving about savage starlight, and making you giggle with the way she worded things.
you were friends now.
but thats not exactly what you had in mind when you texted her.
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ellie stood at your doorway, hesitating to press the doorbell. when she finally built up the confidence to press your doorbell, you pulled the door open, the excitement on your face was very obvious.
you squealed, pulling ellie into a hug, she looked down to see you in skimpy little bow print pajamas with your curly hair in two low puffs. she raised an eyebrow at the outfit choice which prompted you to playfully shove her, “i’m in the comfort of my own home” you giggled.
you turned around, dragging ellie with you, upstairs to your room. your house was a moderate size, peaceful and quiet. you led ellie into your room and she looked around awkwardly.
you plopped down on the bed, rolling onto your stomach and patting the place next you to gesture ellie to come over. she slowly sat on the edge of your bed, kicking off her busted converse.
“oh, c’mon ellie lay regularly” you said, referring to how you were positioned. she followed suit, always doing what you said no matter how much she hesitated.
“okay— time for trig, get your textbook out” she said, nudging your shoulder with hers.
“wait” you whined, “we didn’t have our talk first” you complained, tilting your head at her with a bit of a pout.
“what’re you talking about” she chuckled at your little pout, she found you so adorable but at the same time so fucking scary.
“y’know, that little ten minute period where we just talk about whatever” you mumbled, staring at the freckles adorning ellies adorable nose.
“okay then, talk and i’ll listen” she shrugged, getting a little nervous under your gaze. in ellies eyes, you were the most perfect girl in the world, it baffled her that you even considered her a friend. she had a enormous crush on you but she’d never admit it.
“okay…” you turned to lay on your back, smacking ellies forearm so she’d do the same, “d’you like my pajamas?” you asked, turning your head to face her.
you were inches away, ellie stuttered for a bit, causing you to giggle before gaining her composure, “y-yea. they’re cute” she mumbled.
“really? y’think so? wore em’ just for you” you confessed, smiling softly at her.
“really?” she mumbled, her yearning eyes looking up at you like you placed the stars in the sky.
“mhm, i knew you’d like it” your smile widened as you propped yourself up on your forearm, now a little above ellie. she moved to do the same but you pushed her back, making her eyes widen a bit.
“you’re s’pretty, els” you mumbled, tucking her auburn hair behind her now tinted-red ears.
“t-thanks” she responded after stuttering a bit, looking up at you with nervous eyes. “w-where are your parents?” she asked, her eyes darting around the room frantically, trying to avoid your eyes.
“they’re not here” you replied, almost immediately as your thumb traced ellies jaw, ellie eyebrows furrowed a bit, readjusting herself a bit, trying to distract herself from the situation at hand.
“what’re you doing?” ellie stuttered, as the pad of your thumb dragged down her lip. her pale cheeks were now tinted red as she avoided eye contact.
“nothing. d’you want me to do something?” you mumbled, looking down at her with low eyes, watching her eyes dart around the room, trying to disassociate.
silence filled the room, as ellie hesitated before she nodded softly, not a word coming out of her mouth as she avoided eye contact. you resisted the urge to smile as you softly grabbed her chin.
“i need words els, you’re smarter than that” you teased, forcing her to look at you, her eyes fluttered up to you into yours as she muttered a pathetic, “please?”
“good girl” you said with a giggle, leaning down to give her a soft kiss, her chapped lips intertwined with your plump ones, as your hand cupped her jaw. ellie’s mind was all over the place, here she was, kissing the head cheerleader and she was malfunctioning.
it took a few seconds for her to kiss back, after the intial phase of shock, she practically chased your lips, pulling you down a bit more to be closer to her. her hand traveled to your hip, slightly going under your skimpy pajamas shorts.
you chuckled against her lips, “greedy, huh?” with a smug smile gracing your lips. you threw your leg on the other side of her, now straddling the flustered girl before beginning to kiss her jaw, leaving her panting.
“h-haven’t really.. done anything like this before” she laughed nervously, not wanting to disappoint you. she could feel you giggle against her neck, “i know, els. i’ll teach you, don’t worry” you mumbled against her skin, reveling in power dynamic you two shared. ellies glasses were a bit fogged up and it was a sight to see, your nerdy little tutor under you, needy for your touch.
ellie was laid on her back on the bed with you on top of her, your torsos pressed against eachother as your lips moved in sync, a harmony ellie so desperately wanted to listen to forever. unfortunately, you pulled away, causing ellie to let out a pitiful whimper.
“s’okay baby, be patient” you smiled down at her as you sat up a bit to remove your pajama shirt, showing ellie your pretty baby pink bra. it wasn’t anything fancy, but ellie didn’t care, she didn’t care about anything when she could see your tits.
ellie was so adorable when she got shy, the cutest pink flush steadily spreading across her cheeks as her pupils dilated at the sight of them.
ellie was too shy to react outwardly, or say anything, if you didn’t tell her too, she probably wouldn’t even touch them, so you knew you had to take control.
ellie was just wearing a t-shirt and some jeans, which was easy for you to remove. you motioned for her to sit up, as you sat back on her thighs. she propped herself up on her palms still staring at your tits, fighting back the dirtiest thoughts.
“y’wearing too much clothes, baby” you mumbled, aiding her in taking her band t-shirt off, revealing her sports bra and her toned muscles and abdomen. you cursed under your breath, you knew she had muscles, you had even seen them before but tracing them under your fingers was a different feeling.
when ellie saw your eyes darken at the sight of her, she got a little self conscious, not stopping to say, “what’s wrong?” her eyes frantically searching yours for any displays of disgust but all she could see was lust.
“you’re so fuckin’ perfect, i can’t even—“ you were at a loss for words as you just stared at her. you were moments away from losing all self respect and just slobbering all over her toned abdomen, but you restrained yourself.
you could see ellie was still looking at your tits, if the world was ending she wouldn’t even know. “y’wanna touch em, cutie?” you asked with a smug smile, knowing she couldn’t resist.
she looked up at you with those puppy dog eyes, nodding eagerly, as you took one of her hands and slowly dragged it down your cleavage, letting it rest on one of your tits.
“go ahead, have fun” you said, letting her do what she had always fantasized about. you were aware that ellie was infatuated with your chest, but you weren’t aware that she had made multiple scenarios in her head with your tits in her mouth while she was supposed to be teaching you simple trigonometry formulas.
she dipped her head, placing messy open mouth kisses against your chest, her hands cupping at your tits, feeling the weight between her fingertips and she couldn’t help but moan, the poor girl was touch deprived and you were letting her squeeze and grope at your boobs, she was in heaven.
you slowly unclipped your bra, slipping down the straps and revealing your perky nipples to ellie, who could only whimper in response. she couldn’t handle it anymore, she had tried to be respectful and wait for instructions but she couldn’t. her lips latched around your nipple quickly and it solicited a sweet sounding moan from your lips.
you looked down at the girl and she was looking up at you already, reveling in your pleasure, as her tongue swirled around your nipple while her she rolled your other nipple in between her fingers.
you laughed in between moans, your eyebrows raised in surprise at how fast she caught on, “you— you’re doing s’good, fuck” you moaned out, still in shock.
“yea, i dream ‘bout this a lot” she mumbled around your tit, pulling away with a lust-filled smile, drenched your panties almost immediately. she moved on to the next tit, and she could’ve done it for hours if you hadn’t started rocking your hips against hers.
at this point her boxers were soaked, as her hips slightly bucked up to meet yours. she unlatched from your chest to pull you into a desperate kiss, it was messy and wet and you loved everything about it.
you could see her pressing her thighs together, unknowingly chasing friction and you wanted to be the one to give it to her. you gave her a few pecks before climbing off of her and between her legs, unbuttoning and unzipping her dark-washed jeans.
“w-wait, what’re you doing?” she asked, a little scared. ellie had no idea what to expect, all she ever experienced was her own fingers pumping in and out of her as she imagined they were yours.
“m’gonna make my girl cum, s’that okay?” you teased, as you patted her thigh as a message for her to lift her hips so you could slide her jeans off her.
when i tell you this girl is fit, fucking hell you almost died right there. you looked down to see a wet patch on her boxers where her crotch was and you giggled, leaning down to press a kiss against it making ellie shiver.
“fuck— please?” she begged, not even letting you take her boxers off first.
“okay, okay, such a needy girl, huh?” you teased kissing the inside of her thigh before hooking your fingers in the waistband of her boxers, pulling the down to reveal her adorable pink pussy.
“s’wet, all for me els?” you mumbled, looking up at her through low eyes as you situated yourself on your stomach, licking a kitten lick up her folds.
“shit— g’nna fucking kill me” ellie whined, automatically bucking her hips to try and get closer to your mouth. you held down her hips before taking her clit between your lips sucking on it hard, causing her to convulse, whimpers leaving her mouth like her life depended on it.
“god, i can’t do it” she shook her head, crying pathetically, grinding her hips against your face as you indulged in her, playing with her folds with your tongue while the tip of your finger rubbed her hole, sinking into it a bit, just to watch it suck your finger in desperately.
“y’can take it pretty girl, i know you can” you mumbled against her pussy, as her hands dragged against your comforter, looking for something to ground her.
the pathetic whines slipping from her lips make you slip your other hands into your own panties, rubbing at your clit, getting off on ellies pleading and whining.
“f-fuck, s’too much, can’t do it—“ ellie whined, her wide eyes watching as you dipped two fingers into her, her walls clenching around your fingers so deliciously.
“can’t even describe how perfect you are” you mumbled against her clit, the vibration making her shiver, your voice cracking a bit as you were also chasing your own orgasm, “pretty pussy just desperate for me huh? fucking swallowing me” you mumbled causing ellie to let out a guttural moan, her breath trembling.
you were having too much fun, the way her folds glistened from her wetness, her hole enlarging to take your fingers every time you pumped them in and out of you was ungodly and absolutely unreal.
“mother— fucker, shit!” she sobbed, cursing like a truck driver as her thighs shook, you could tell she was on the brink of her orgasm, you could see her stomach tensing. she looked down to see you just staring at how well her pussy took your fingers, with a pussy drunk smile. this was better than anything she had ever fantasized.
“g’nna cum, fuck— can’t— take it, shit!” she squeaked, her eyed fluttering in the back of her head as she rode out her high. ellie was a hardcore creamer, her cum staining your fingers as you played with it, watching it gush out of her tight little hole.
you licked it all up, swallowing every last bit, while trembling a bit from cumming yourself. you climbed back on top of her immediately catching her lips in a slow kiss, letting her taste herself, “fuck— you’re so—i didn’t expect that” ellie panted out.
“you’re rambling, els” you mumbled against her lips giggling.
“how’re you so good at that? how often do you do that” her eyebrows furrowed, a little fire of jealousy lit inside of her before you shut it down.
“not often, had a few girlfriends, picked up some skills, and now i can use them on you” you muttered, nipping at her lips, as her hands rested on your hips.
“only me?” she let slip, you could see in her eyes she regretted it as soon as she said it. you were head cheerleader, surrounded by attractive girls everyday who probably were more experienced than ellie, girls who could keep up with you. she knew you wouldn’t agree to that.
“only you” but she was wrong. you had been pining after the nerdy girl for a while, and you weren’t about to let her go now.
her glasses were now completely fogged up, even little water droplets on them from the body heat exchanged from you two.
“wanna help you, wanna get you off” ellie mumbled against your lips, squeezing your hips a bit harshly, causing you to lowly moan.
“yeah? wanna help me get off?” you said with a smile, bumping noses with ellie while she nodded, giggling a bit aswell
“mhm, please lemme’ make you feel good” she begged, between sensual kisses, her hand trying to slip underneath your pajamas shorts.
you tutted at her, causing her to furrow her brows in confusion, you climbed off of her to throw off your shorts and panties before placing a hand on ellies thigh, throwing one leg over hers so your heat was just above hers.
before you could do anything, ellie forcefully pulled you down to let your pussy meet hers. you moaned at the feeling of her warm wet folds rubbing against yours.
“fuck— just like that” you whined, placing your hand on ellies lower stomach for more control. ellies hand on your hip guided your grinds as her hips moved to meet yours. sinful sweet moans filled the room you slowly threw your head back at the pleasure you felt.
as you grinded against her the sound of your wet folds sliding against hers bounced off the walls along with your moans and whimpers and occasionally the muttering of profanities.
ellies grip on your waist became harder as she began to take control, and a involuntary whisper left your lips, your eyes fluttered closed as she pushed your pussy down against hers
“yea— y’like that? huh?” she said as she began to become even more confident, looking up at you with low eyes, her lips slightly ajar and rosy from all the kissing.
“shit— feels s’good els” you nodded, encouraging her to continue.
“god, you’re such a fuckin’ slut” she groaned, shocking you and possibly making you even more wet as you whined in response, urging her to go on.
“look at you, fuckin’ desperate to cum, had to lie to me— fuck— and say we were g’nna study?” she said through her teeth as she leaned her head back, the overstimulation beginning to make her shake.
“f-fuck, els m’gonna cum!” you cried, your hand pressing down on her lower abdomen as your grinds became messier.
“opened the door in that skimpy little outfit, like a goddamn whore, huh? y’were just begging to get fucked” she gritted, watching you fall apart on top of her, high pitched whines leaving your lips as you were at the brink of your orgasm.
“fuckin’ cum, so i can see how much a slut you really are” ellie was surprisingly good at degrading you, her words were what sent you over the edge, you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, you collapsed onto her, your sweaty bodies against eachother as you came, sobbing into her neck, shaking from how hard your orgasm had hit.
you laid against eachother, panting as you reveled in each others presence. ellie was just mumbling small sorries, a little worried that what she said had hurt your feelings, “s-shut up, williams” you chuckled tiredly, reassuring her that what she said did the exact opposite of hurt your feelings.
“was i good?” she asked quietly, still a little anxious about her performance. you laughed, pressing a kiss against her lips, “amazing, baby, y’did amazing” you whispered, loving how she smiled contently with your reply.
“we gotta clean up, els” you said, trying to prop yourself up but getting pulled back down by ellie.
“lets just stay here for a sec?” she said as more of a question than a statement.
you simply just nodded, enjoying her scent, her features, her.
god, you fucking loved your nerd.
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familyvideostevie · 4 months
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steel drum weight of me
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joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni
summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k
warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie
a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.
__
Jackson looks its best in the winter.
You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.
It's also fucking cold.
But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.
Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.
Things could be worse.
You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.
Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.
You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.
The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.
"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"
"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.
The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.
The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.
He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.
"How was the wall?"
"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"
"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"
He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."
You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.
"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.
"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.
"Hey now, what --"
You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"
He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.
The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.
And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.
It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.
"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.
"I'm fine --"
"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"
"I said I'm --"
"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.
"Alright," he says. "Move, then."
You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.
"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."
Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.
"What's it made of?"
"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."
He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."
You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.
"Cute."
"Gimme those hands, big guy."
The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.
"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"
"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.
"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."
He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."
You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.
And, boy, he touches you back.
So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.
Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.
"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."
"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.
"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."
"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"
You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.
"What? Can't hear over the water."
You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."
"Don't think that's what you said."
"It's what I meant."
And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.
"Alright," he says.
You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.
Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"
"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."
"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"
"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"
"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.
So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.
"You just gonna look at it?"
You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.
Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.
"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.
It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.
Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.
You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.
He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."
"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.
He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."
You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.
"So is that a no?"
You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.
"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.
"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.
"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.
Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --
The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.
You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.
"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."
He laughs.
His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.
"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"
"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"
"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"
His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.
Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.
You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.
"Hell of a salve," he manages.
You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."
His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."
"You never stop, do you?"
Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."
You laugh into his neck. "Good."
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
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tightjeansjavi · 1 year
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𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐃𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐫.𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫?
Joel Miller x f!reader
NSFW🔞
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A/N: this is a result of my post gym ✨horny✨ thoughts. I love to think that Joel can be a whimpering mess, every now and then. You’re welcome ♡ ♡ ♡
Summary: You get jealous seeing the women in Jackson throw themselves at Joel. You decide to give him a gentle reminder of who he belongs to.
~word count : 4.3k~
Warnings: smut with no plot, established relationship, sub! joel, feral/dark! joel, soft! joel,needy! joel, possessive joel! is going to tear you apart! joel, dom/brat reader, unprotected p in v (wrap it kids) oral receiving (male) fingering, light choking, knife play, teasing, edging, light bdsm, consent, consent, consent, nicknames, praise kink, cockwarming, cream pie, cum eating, cum play, uhhh yeah a whole lot of filth! Not much else to say! (+18) MINORS DNI SERIOUSLY THIS IS STRAIGHT UP PORN.
Songs used:
“Freak” by Doja Cat (just trust me on this one y’all)
“Tear You Apart” by She Wants Revenge
“…Ready For It?” By Taylor Swift
“No Good” by KALEO
“Dinner and Diatribes” by Hozier
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You never considered yourself to be a naturally jealous person. You had no reason to be. The people of Jackson knew well enough that you were Joel’s lady, and he was your man. You never had to worry about getting hit on at the Jackson bar, or while on patrol, because no one dared to even look at what belonged to Joel. The women of Jackson? They were a little more ballsy than you thought.
You knew your man was handsome. Hell, he was fucking beautiful in your eyes. You’d see some of the single women, and even some of the happily taken women, fawn over your man.
Could you really blame them? He was definitely a sight for sore eyes. You’d watch them touch his arm, laugh at something he’d say and that’s when your jealousy began to bubble deep in your gut.
Didn’t these women know Joel belonged to you? Did he remember who he belonged to? Perhaps you needed to give him a gentle reminder.
Your man had arrived home late one night after being on patrol. You could hear his heavy boots from where you stood in the kitchen, you heard him mutter under his breath about his bad back as he hung his rifle up alongside yours. Joel was currently looking forward to a well deserved, hot shower and a good cuddle with you, his lady. He knew however that something was off because you never would leave the lights off. You kept them on usually on the nights you knew he would be getting home late.
He called out your name.
“Baby? You down here? Where are you, my sweet girl?”
He heard your soft footsteps padding from the kitchen and then your face appeared soon after. He wasted no time to grab you by the waist and pull you flush against his chest. “Hi honey, I was just waiting up for you.” You softly spoke while draping your arms around his neck. “How was it out there?”
“Mmm. Hi Sugar. Why were all the lights off? You usually keep ‘em on for me. S’alright out there. Long fuckin’ shift, and all I could think about was comin’ home to you darlin’.”
You gave him a sweet kiss, gently playing with the ends of his hair through your fingers. “Yeah, baby? I’m sorry it was a long shift. Are you tired? Here, how about you sit down? You’ve been on your feet all day.”
Joel kissed you back immediately while he tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you in as close as he physically could. “S’alright. Feet and back are fuckin’ killin’ me though, sweet girl. Is Ellie home?”
You slowly pulled away from the kiss, sliding your arms down from around his neck and brought your hands down his chest. “C’mon i’ll take care of you, okay? She’s at Dina’s. They’re watching a movie so we’ll have the place to ourselves all night.”
“You had me at we’re gonna have the place to ourselves all night darlin.’” a chuckle vibrated up his chest. “Did ya have somethin’ particular in mind baby?”
You unwrapped his arms from around your waist, grabbing his hands as you brought him into the dining room. “I knew you’d love the sound of that Joel. Go on, take a seat honey.”
He raised an eyebrow in your direction as he tried to gauge just exactly what it was that you were up to. When he took too long for your liking, you placed your hand on his chest and firmly coaxed him down into the chair.
“What’re—”
He was cut off when you had climbed into his lap, straddling his hips while you brought his arms behind the chair, holding his wrists together firmly.
“Shhh. You trust me, right baby? I just wanna take care of you. Treat you real well but first, I think you need a gentle reminder of who you belong to.”
Joel’s eyes had immediately widened when you ever so casually climbed into his lap. His own frustration began to bubble when you brought his arms around the back of the chair, preventing him from touching you. “Course I trust you honey. Whad’ya mean you need to remind me who I belong to? Baby, I belong to you. You and I both know that.”
“Do the Jackson women know that you belong to me? I see the way they fawn over you Joel. You think I don’t notice? They practically fall to their knees when you’re around.”
Joel chuckled, leaning his head back against the chair with a smirk on his lips. “Do I sense a bit of jealousy in ya? I see the way they act around me sugar. I don’t pay ‘em any attention. Don’t need to when I’ve got you. By far the prettiest girl in town. Can confidently say I am one fuckin’ lucky man.”
Joel was too focused on you in his lap to notice that you had pulled a strand of thick rope from your pocket. He barely felt you tie his wrists together behind the chair, till it was too late.
“Yeah, you are one fuckin’ lucky man, Miller and you better remember it.”
He let out a strained noise from his throat when he realized you had successfully tied him to the chair and his eyes narrowed in on you. “Fuckin’ minx. You really just go and tie me to the damn chair?” He let out a low growl.
You were the one smirking now as you leaned in close to his face, your lips nearly touching his. “I did baby, I told you I’m going to take care of you. Just trust me on this okay?” You spoke in a sickly sweet tone.
Your words traveled down his neck, past his thighs and settled beneath his jeans where his cock had twitched slightly. It didn’t take much to get your man going and you were pretty proud of that.
“So you tied me to the damn chair? You gonna punish me, sweet girl? You got it in you to do that to me baby?”
You brought your fingers around his throat, tipping his chin back slightly as you brushed your lips over his, taking his lower lip between your teeth, biting down on the soft flesh as you tugged it out. Your actions elicited a low groan from his chest.
“Oh, I think you and I both know I’ve got it in me baby. You gonna be a good boy for me, or are you gonna be difficult?”
You quite literally stole the air from this man’s lungs. All the blood was draining straight down to his cock. God, you were so filthy and he loved every second of it. “I’ll be a good boy for you darlin’, only if you promise to give me your worst.”
His pupils darkened as he looked up at you, desperately wishing he could fucking touch you as he pulled against his restraints on his wrists.
“I promise you I will, baby.” You cooed and his eyes nearly rolled back into his skull.
You dragged your fingertips along the thin skin of his throat as you leaned down over him, bringing your lips to the shell of his ear, kissing the skin right below. It was the spot that you knew drove him crazy. “You let me know if it’s too much and you wanna stop. Okay honey?”
He felt a shiver run down his spine from your lips along his neck. “I know darlin’. I got you, you got me.”
Your relationship with Joel had been built around trust, and consent. It was important to you both, and no matter what the situation was between you, consent was always at the forefront.
“Good boy.” You whispered against the shell of his ear as you reached into your pocket and pulled out a blindfold.
His jaw went slack as you tied the fabric around his head, covering his eyes from your view.
“You’re about to fuckin’ ruin me, aren’t you baby?” He rasped out, feeling his senses on overdrive now that he could no longer see you.
“Gonna do a lot more than just that, honey. You just sit back and relax. I got you.” You pressed another kiss to the spot below his ear before you slowly dragged your lips down his neck, nipping and biting at the thin skin as he hissed under his breath, turning his head to the side slightly so you would have better access.
You dragged your sinful tongue down the expanse of his throat, you could feel his pulse quicken as your fingers began to expertly undo the buttons on his flannel, exposing his skin to the warm air as you let your fingertips trace down his collarbones, brushing over his nipples as they descended down over his navel.
His stomach went taut under your soft, feather light touches. He had sucked in a harsh breath as his cock twitched in his jeans once more. “Baby, please. Don’t fuckin’ keep me on edge like this honey. Please, I’ll be a good boy, just like I promised.” Your man begged you.
You popped the button off his jeans and tugged the zipper down. Offering him a brief moment of relief as you tugged his jeans down over his broad thighs, listening to the fabric fall down his ankles, and settle above his boots.
His breath hitched in his throat when your fingers lightly brushed over his growing bulge in his boxers. He was so big, so thick, the fabric was straining and could barely hold him.
What you did next? Completely through your man for a loop. You had unsecured your knife from your holster, dragging the edge of the blade down his chest, over his navel. The coolness of the metal against his hot skin was a delicious combination.
He tugged on the restraints hard, the chair scraping on the old hardwood floor when the edge of your knife dragged across his covered bulge. Your man fucking whimpered.
“Darlin’, is that your knife baby? What’re you gonna do with that, huh?”
You kept the edge of your knife lightly pressed against his bulge. You could feel his thighs quiver beneath you, and his cock twitch once more as you leaned in, and whispered against his ear, “Who do you belong to, Mr. Miller?”
He let out a string of curses past his plush lips, stuttering over his words as he was already a whimpering mess beneath you and you had barely touched him. “Yours baby. I’m all fuckin’ yours. All yours.”
“Good boy.” You hummed as you removed the blade from his covered bulge, placing it down on the table before you wasted no time to free him from his constraints. Watching his cock spring up against his stomach. The tip was leaking with precum, all thanks to you and your filthy words. Your mouth was already salivating for a taste of him.
He could no longer feel the weight of your body on his lap. He heard the chair scrape slightly as you got down on your knees in front of him. He wanted to fucking see your pretty face, your irresistible eyes on him, but the fabric on his eyes, blinded him from experiencing that pleasure.
“Gonna have a taste of you now, okay baby? Dying to have one.”
“Fu—fuckin’ hell darlin’ you tryin’ to send me to an early grave talkin’ like that—“
He lost his voice the moment your pretty lips wrapped around his aching tip. You swirled your tongue against the veiny head, collecting his precum with ease.
You dragged your lips and tongue down his thick length, feeling him twitch again as he let his whimpers flow through his lips freely.
“You taste so sweet, honey. What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue baby?”
Joel growled frustratingly as he gave the restraints another good tug but they wouldn’t budge and he was completely at your mercy.
“That’s my fuckin’ line darlin’” he groaned.
“Yeah?” You hummed against his length, letting your fingers grasp his balls, giving them a little squeeze. “Well, now it’s mine. Deal with it.”
“You little—”
You had wrapped your lips back around his tip, slowly sliding your wet, hot mouth down over him, as you slowly began to bob your head at a delicious pace.
“F-f-fuck—darlin’ that pretty little mouth of yours is gonna be the death of me. Not gonna fuckin’ last long like this.” He groaned while bucking his hips up slightly, desperately wanting more.
You brought your free hand, that wasn’t playing with his balls, around his thick thigh. You sank your nails into his skin, dragging them downwards as he let out a hiss, digging the heels of his boots into the floor.
You could feel every ridge, every vein against your tongue as you continued to suck him off, your teeth lightly scraped against his length as his tip hit the back of your throat. You knew how to take him well, but there were still tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. You fucking loved having his cock shoved down your throat like this. You loved the way he whimpered out your name, just from your mouth and tongue wrapped around him.
“Fuck—fuck baby you gotta stop soon, please! Fuck. I’m seein’ stars right now. Takin’ my cock so fuckin’ well in that pretty little mouth. S’pretty, just for me.”
Your throat tightened around him slightly as you held him there for a few moments, nearly gagging around him before you slowly lifted your head up, releasing him from your mouth with a pop. You had saliva dripping down your chin that he would have absolutely loved to see, along with your pretty swollen lips.
He heard your own jeans start to be taken off as he listened to the fabric hit the floor with a soft thud as he anticipated your next move on him.
“Where’d you go, darlin’? Can’t feel ya anymore..you better not be fuckin’ leaving me down here tied up like this—”
You had sank back down into his lap, your covered, aching cunt brushing against his swollen tip as you let out a low hiss from the friction. “Mmm. I’m right here baby. I wouldn’t be that cruel to leave you tied up like this..don’t give me any ideas though, okay? Not finished with you yet.”
He let a whine slip past his throat when he could feel your cunt rub against him, as you rolled your hips into his slowly, eliciting another frustrated groan from him, and an eager moan from you.
You reached your hand up, untying the fabric from his eyes and tossed it to the side, his eyes were immediately locked on yours, his jaw clenched so tightly, he could cut something with how sharp it was.
“You gonna fuckin’ let me touch you baby? Or not yet? Gonna keep me on the edge? Fuckin filthy little whore you are. M’so fuckin lucky.” He whimpered.
You brought your fingers through the back of his hair, gripping it tightly as you yanked his head back, rolling your hips into his once more. “Do you think you deserve to fuck me right now, baby? You think you deserve to fill me up with your cock? C’mon, answer me.” You demanded
Joel’s jaw went slack at your words as he swallowed hard. You were something fucking else entirely and he was at a loss for words.
“I’ve been a good boy, haven’t I baby? C’mon, sweet girl. Let me fill you to the fuckin’ brim. Please. Please. Please. Want to feel your warmth around me so fuckin’ bad. Give into me darlin.’ Take me however you fuckin’ want.” He rasped.
He watched as your hand slid down between your bodies, pulling your panties to the side, revealing your slick pussy to his greedy eyes as you dragged your fingers through your arousal. Swirling your fingers against your clit as you kept your eyes locked on his. “Bet you wish you were touching me right now, huh baby? I’m so fuckin’ wet for you. Don’t you wish you could have a taste? Mmm, your fingers do a much better job than mine.” You purred, wasting no time to slip two of your fingers inside, pumping them slowly on his lap. “I’m so fucking tight, Joel. Don’t you wanna feel me baby? Feel how fucking tight I am for you.”
Joel frankly had enough with your teasing. He nearly had drool dripping down his chin as he watched you with hooded eyes. He watched your fingers, slick with your own arousal, disappear inside your tight cunt. The squelching sounds of your wet pussy had his eyes rolling back as he kicked the side of the table with his boot, frustratingly.
“Goddamn you. Fuckin’ filthy. Look at you fuckin’ yourself on my lap. Fuckin’ should be my fingers filling you up right now. You little minx. Do I have to fuckin’ beg you? Your pretty little pussy is fuckin’ purring for me baby. You gotta let me out of these things, please baby. I’ll do whatever you want. Just please fuckin’ let me touch you.”
“No.” You spoke sweetly, between moans. “Keep fucking watching me Joel. Keep watching me fuck my pretty little pussy.”
“You are so goddamn lucky that you tied a fuckin’ good knot. Gonna fuckin’ ruin you when I get out of these baby. Just you fuckin’ wait.” He growled. He was unable to tear his gaze from your fingers fucking yourself, even if he tried. He was absolutely intoxicated with you.
You slipped your fingers out of your mouth slowly, they were dripping in your arousal as you brought them up to your lips, licking them clean right before his very eyes as he kicked the side of the table once more.
Your man was absolutely feral.
You grabbed the base of his cock then, dragging his tip against your slick folds, his arousal and yours mixing together. When you finally, sank down onto him, he let out the most delicious fucking sound you had ever heard. The mix between a groan, and a whimper as you sank down to the hilt, bringing your arms around his neck. “Filling me up so good already, baby. See what happens when you’re a good boy? You get rewarded.”
His breath hitched in his throat when you rolled your hips into his. He could feel every inch of you slide around his cock, and just as you started to get into a rhythm, rising and falling over his thick length as your walls gripped around him deliciously, the rope around his wrists snapped, falling to the floor.
His hands were on you before you even had the chance to open your mouth. You were positively fucked.
“Now, it’s my fuckin’ turn.” He had immediately grabbed ahold of your hips, roughly pulling your chest flushed against his as he fucked into you, his balls slapping against your ass while his nails dug into your hips harshly. “You fuckin’ like that baby? You naughty fuckin’ girl. Hope you enjoyed your fuckin’ little game while it lasted baby.”
His lips were attacking every inch of your skin, between your neck, collarbones and breasts, he was absolutely ruining you with his mouth. nipping, biting, sucking on your tender flesh as he fucked into you, drinking in your moans around him as you let him finally have control, not that you had much of a choice. You knew it was only a matter of time before the restraints would snap.
He had grabbed you from your ass, lifting you up onto the dining room table, while still buried deep inside of you. He brought your legs over his shoulders as he fucked into you, with your back firmly planted against the table.
When you had reached down to touch yourself, he smacked your hand away, grabbing both of your wrists and slammed them down above your head, holding them down with one hand. “No.” He growled.“You don’t get to fuckin’ do all of that to me and then think that you can touch yourself, baby. You’re mine now. You fuckin’ got that? All. Fucking. Mine”
“Joel—fuck! Please baby, I was only having a little fun! Please, are you going to let me cum?” You whimpered, tugging your lower lip between your teeth as you looked up at him with those eyes that would send any man’s knees buckling.
Joel let out a deep chuckle, using his free hand to close in around your throat, his thumb pressing against your windpipe as he leaned down, bringing his forehead against yours, drinking in your moans as his lips crashed into yours, your teeth and tongues clashing together. It was a rough, heated kiss. One that was absolutely scrambling your brain. “You think you fuckin’ deserve to cum? You think you deserve that?” He mumbled into your lips, holding you completely captive beneath him.
Your breath was caught in your throat as his thumb squeezed along your windpipe slightly, just enough for you to feel it. The pain, mixing with the pleasure, you fucking loved it.
“Please, Joel! Please let me cum, baby! Don’t you want me to coat your cock? You gotta let me cum otherwise I can’t—”
He slammed his hips into yours, knocking your back against the table, stealing the air from your lungs. “What was that? Sorry, sugar. Can’t hear you above the sounds of my cock tearing your pretty little pussy apart.”
You let out a choked sob when his tip had hit the spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. Your body was beginning to tremble beneath him and you nearly cried when you finally felt his thumb working your clit to the very edge.
He had released your wrists just so you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, and sink your nails into his skin, he knew how much you loved that.
“So fucking close, Joel! So close! Thank you baby, thank you!” You praised him.
Both of your bodies were slick with sweat as his thrusts began to grow uncoordinated and sloppy but despite this, he was still working his thumb over you, stumbling over his words as he groaned out your name.
“That’s it, my pretty fuckin’ filthy girl. Gonna cum around my cock? Gonna coat me? Wanna see you leaking out on the fuckin table when I’m through with you. Think you can handle that honey? Wanna see my fuckin’ cum drippin’ out of that pretty little pussy.”
It didn’t take long for either of you to hit your impending high. It crashed around you, sending white hot pleasure up from your core and through your whole body, Joel shuddered above you, as your pussy milked him of every last fucking drop. He kissed all over your face, praising you for being such a good girl as he gave one last deep thrust, before collapsing on top of you.
This is how it always ended. Joel buried deep inside of you while he grew soft, yours and his cum leaking out of you, while you would cradle him against your chest, running your fingers through his sweat soaked hair.
The post orgasm calm was your favorite part undeniably. You loved the lazy, sex stained grin your man would give you. God, he always looked so pretty after a proper fuck. He’d kiss you slow, deep, letting his tongue slip into your mouth while your fingers would gently scrape against his beard.
“I wanna see more of that in the future.” He mumbled into your lips, kissing you languidly.
“Yeah? You liked that?”
“Fuckin’ loved havin’ you take control like that baby. Do it whenever you want, kay?”
You let out a soft giggle, pulling away from the kiss to get some air as he let out a small whine, he wasn’t ready to stop kissing you just yet. So instead, he let his lips kiss all over your face, your cheeks, chin, nose, your eyelids. He couldn’t get enough of you.
“I will definitely be taking control more often, baby. I can promise you that.”
“Good.” He hummed, pressing one more kiss to your nose, lightly nibbling on it before he slowly slipped out from your warmth.
“We made quite the mess together honey. Dripping all down the fuckin’ table.” He chuckled, dragging his finger through your cum mixed with his, before he licked his finger clean, shooting you a wink.
You sat up slowly, your heart beat had returned to normal as you watched your man with a small grin as he collapsed back into the chair, kicking his boots off along with his jeans before he gathered the pile of clothes up into his arms to take them to the laundry room.
“I fuckin’ love you, you know that?”
“I know you do, Joel. I love you too.”
He leaned down over you, kissing you sweetly once more. He left to drop the clothes off in the laundry room before he grabbed a towel. He was always big on after care so you laid there, waiting for him.
He gently wiped between your thighs, and then the table before he was scooping you up into his arms. He helped you wrap your legs around his hips as he carried you upstairs, smiling to himself when he could feel your thighs tremble, all thanks to him.
One well deserved hot shower later, and you and your man were curled up in bed together. You were the big spoon tonight because you know how much he loves to be held by you.
You were his lady, his girl. He was your man. Your fellow, your guy.
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chrisevansonly · 4 months
Text
𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝
ʚ social media au
ʚ lando norris x female reader
ʚ nothing better than kicking off the break with a ski trip!
ʚ faceclaim is Dina Denoire
ʚ i be stuffed up in my sinuses and bored so here’s a lil sum for you🫶🏻
itsmeyn
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liked by landonorris, riabish, oscarpiastri and 235,000 others
happy winter and happy break everyone 🫶🏻
see 4,0000 comments
username lando’s lil feet!!!!
>itsmeyn he’s so 🤏🏻
username HAVE THE BEST TIME LOVELY!!
username pretty as always 😍
riabish yes let the fun begin!!
liked by itsmeyn
landonorris love you baby😘
>itsmeyn love you more handsome❤️
maxfewtrell can’t wait to watch you eat snow on the hill 🤣
>pietra.pilao wanna sleep in the snow?
>itsmeyn HA TAKE THAT MAXWELL
>maxfewtrell DONT CALL ME MAXWELL
itsmeyn added to their story!
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landonorris
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liked by itsmeyn, maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 798,000 others
winter break baby, let’s go 😎
tagged itsmeyn
see 14,000 comments
username certified y/n fanpage
username 🥹👉🏻👈🏻
itsmeyn i made the cut twice, score 😎
>landonorris my favourite view baby ❤️
carlossainz55 where’s my invite?
>itsmeyn lost in the mail
>carlossainz55 RUDE
>itsmeyn YOUVE HAD LANDO ALL YEAR
username HAHAHA Y/N and CARLOS ARE FIGHTING
mclaren sweet 😎🧡
landonorris added to their story
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itsmeyn
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liked by francesca.cgomes, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 312,000 others
who’s cuter me, lando or the dog?
tagged landonorris
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username def you y/n!!!
username Y/N ALL THE WAY
charles_leclerc the dog tbh
>itsmeyn wow…and i baked you a christmas loaf 😔
>landonorris WOW CHARLES WOW
>itsmeyn as if you weren’t gonna say the same 🙄
username charles & lando in the dog house
>itsmeyn exactly
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itsmeyn
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the best company for the best weekend away❤️
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username SHES SO BEAUTIFUL SHUT UP
username im obsessed with her😭
username max and p🥹🥹
landonorris ❤️❤️❤️
liked by itsmeyn
pietra.pilao let’s do it again every weekend, but just me and you 😉
>itsmeyn sigh me up😍😍
>maxfewtrell 🤨🤨
>landonorris 🤨🤨
username i love this little group
maxfewtrell yeah ig you’re alright
>itsmeyn don’t make me pull up the club video…
>riabish OH PLEASE DO😭😭
username wait i wanna know what happened at the club😭
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abbysbug · 2 days
Text
streamer!ellie meeting streamer!reader
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summary: ellie basically being a big gay loser mess around reader
a/n: i’ve been wanting to write about streamer!ellie more so here we are
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
• she loves to go to twitch con. always excited to meet other streamers. the one twitch con she's been so excited to go to is the one you're attending.
• she'd be posting a twitter:
@carpetmuncherwilliams guys in 2 days im about to meet the love of my life!! we're literally gonna get married n have children together :33
@elliewstinks replied is this about y/n?
@carpetmuncherwilliams replied whattt no ALSO LETS TALK ABOUT YOUR USERNAME?? I DONT STINK TF
@yngamez replied cute.
• ellie DIED when she saw your reply. the blush on her face was so embarrassing.
• the day of the convention she was so nervous for multiple reasons. 1) she was meeting you? 2) what if she fucks up in front of you? 3) what if you don't like her?
• there were so many overthinking thoughts in her mind but they were all washed away when she finally met you.
• "ellie! c'mere, sweet girl." you called out to her, holding your hand out for her to take.
• she quickly took your hand in hers, relishing the way your skin felt against hers.
• you were already talking to a group of people but the moment she came over, your attention was given to her and only her. the way you looked at her had ellie blushing like a fool.
• you both hit off well though. talking about random things and getting to know each other on a personal level.
• "so, you maybe wanna hang after this convention is over?" you asked
• before this moment, everything was going well for ellie. she hadn't said anything stupid or embarrassing, but, of course, she fucked up.
• "sure. what's your discord?"
• you giggled at her and shook your head, "i think asking for my number would be more romantic."
• the colour DRAINED from ellie's face. no way she just asked for a cute girls discord. is she really that much of a loser?
• you didn't seem to mind though. you thought it was funny and cute that ellie asked that.
• when you departed ways, your number in ellie's phone, she was over the moon. of course she had to tell twitter about this.
@carpetmuncherwilliams i told you guys i had rizz. just got her number :p
@yngamez replied i wouldn't say your 'rizz' is immaculate as you did ask for my discord instead of my number, but ur cute so i'll let it slide
@buffjesse replied no fucking way you asked for her discord you fucking loser. god you are never gonna hear the end of this. just wait till i tell dina LMFAOOO
@carpetmuncherwilliams replied i hope u choke and die jesse
yeah, she was definitely a loser, but she was your loser.
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astralnymphh · 4 months
Text
saturated sanctity
tonguefucking raw in the barn, away from dina's eyes ౨ৎ
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. part two 𝜗𝜚
❛you had cunt on your mind, 'n cum on your breath❜
PREVIOUS CHAPTER . NEXT CHAPTER > .ᐟ ♡. summary; a chore so innocent and prosaic, far from featherbedding and near to plucking grain from your scalp– turns for the worst, or the best? i soundly connote, fornication ventured on two bends of eager knees, drinking you from beneath the hood 𐙚 .ᐟ ♡. cw; depictions of infidelity, homewrecking, semi-risky sex, jealousy, bit angsty, tension, guilt, pining, tears are shed, playing around, lusting, clit stim (r, fingers and oral), fingering (r), pussy eating (r), scant nipple stim (r), ass groping, ass slapping, breast groping, swallowing slick, pussy slapping, steamy make-out buildup, dirty talk, needy ellie, smug ellie as usual, dom!ellie, sub!reader (i swear sub!ellie is coming next chapter) domestic acts, bold text is flashback dialogue, petnames; babe, baby, good girl (lmk if i missed anything) .ᐟ ♡. pairing; farm!ellie x farmhand!reader .ᐟ ♡. a/n; ending feels a little lazy but it is what it is. hey i'll pull through on ss3 that's like the smut crux, if u get my jizzst..
✵ masterlist ✵ series masterlist ✵ got too lazy 2 proofread right away ✵ WC; 9.8k+
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VOLUME TWO - The skin that flakes/ Under the hood
𝄞
Indulgences have the gall to peck at you. 
Pecky and prickly as the oncoming hens do, handwriting–on–the–wall misgivings that throttle you off a steady minute by minute track. Small nuances under light of sun kept doing so this week, numerous things apropos of bawdy suggestions wisped by that reckless pink snake of hers– always mere footsteps from running into Dina, ‘I think it would be, really, reaaally hot if you didn’t wear your p-panties at the table, tonight..’ always brain–caked in a bit of alcohol, hiccuping. Or, even when a cold cuff cocoons the hind of your upper–thigh, an inch below the crease of your butt and done as she passes like a ghost behind you in the kitchen. 
A plum bruise should have formed from how often you flicked that forehead of hers. But no, of course no. The only thing that formed each time was a cocky curl into her lips, corkscrewing those fine hazel freckles connate to a whirlpool in water.
Owing to the fact that she lacked sufficient care from you, has her pouting when you deny her. Denied her of that fiendish wish to lie beside each other– even if it be upon that packed sofa, or– of her vehement dreams, reposing within sniffing distance of an ambery lit fireplace, running her work–worn fingertips along your hill of chest, letting the beat beneath your breast verse in her hands a tale to beckon her own in accordance, toasting aflutter with love. She would push a kind pressure to said breast, emboss prints to squishy skin, mold it to her liking, and smirk when your nipple erects and bends under her hardy palm. 
On the other hand, woe of denial, she sought Dina in your figment. When she wasn't courting twisted fingers up your billowing skirt, she instead smelt her heart in twisting her from the inside out, which– even more woefully, gave Dina the impression that Ellie had come crawling back on starved knees. Woe is her, to misreckon and take what she thought was hers to safekeep.
Arteries, wrenched and awreck, you felt a toy in contrast to what really stood. Worry. 
Worries are the hens, pecking at you.
Will Dina catch you two here? Over there? This night, or the inbound day? Tines of time aren't obligated to tell, ringing of peril whenever they yen a sign to sow.
Thoughts would only continue to foment come light of day.
A lemony sun has risen beyond the hill laden skyline, plucking rays for your wake. Muted orange tones mingle and caper into flaming reds on the crest of your sealed eyelids, caught just as you bid adieu to your cotton sogged dream. For dreams die, at every crossroad.
“Mhh..” the gentlest brush of breath hinders sun washed quietude split, and a set of toes curving down to a stretch. Achy aches ache, as there’s enough ache to go around for farm hands such as you, ugh right? 
Disturbing be the sunlight drawing blinding rays on your bleary pupils, attempting to shade out familiar nooks of your room. Ah, there we go, hues of sable dark in unvisited corners and shyly crowding the light, fluid out of the clear glass pane. As the couch is situated opposite of this blaring window, it greets you quite rudely. 
The moment colors begin to mature and petrify within your vision, you're already hiking up a foot and rocking your bottom off the quaint sofa, veering a peek to the indent left. Slept like a log, huh? Feet plant weight on plods carrying you towards the wardrobe, grantingly aside the wide pearl–border window, flitting a forearm up to block incoming light. 
A huff bloats your cheeks and pouts ducky lips, then grumbling a burden off your shoulders, “Hhhmmmm..” no truer words were spoken.
You lodge fingers in oaken crevices and pull a sundry of drawers from their frame, rubbing cotton on wool as you dig without aim on what you may don, this or that, with which and what, where and when. Blah, yawn, bored, you avert your gaze on lucent glass and scrutinize a pine bough panorama– only for your eyes to spring and espy a sparkle.
A gleam of skin.
And a tuft of copper.
Ellie.
Her torso fit in a white ribbed tank, soaked in hues of gray at the dip cut collar, and handsomely clung to her perky breasts. An arm raises, a graceful length likeness of a canopy above her head, stretching freckled flesh over toned muscles, the grooves– shadowed in a whisper of brown, highlighted celestially, and exposing a small auburn bush beneath her pit. A seen groan escapes her slit gob, brows hefty– she crumples them dear into her eye sockets, ruching the thin skin. Exertion tapered her body akin to clay, and it was undeniably hot, scrunching her face up like that. Ellie then juts her hips forward and casts her head rearward as she stretches, releasing all tension in a swing of her arms down. 
Seems like she's tending to the fore yards.
Dew gleams honey, sweat paints skin, and portrays your girls as a ruddy rose in dashing spring. Ruddy, yeah, that solar ball in the sky sure made her skin popping arid of paleness. Naturally, her freckles betone like pepper, bulging on her red face– which scrunches in her gripe of stress.
Her lips part, mouthing an obvious, ‘Fucking hell.’ and baring teeth after, slightly. Lashes interwoven, her eyes stayed squinted, only to widen and dart when a muffled shout rattles the walls.
Right, fuck, Dina needs me.
Just as the drizzly auburn–head jogs from a peeking view and presumably into the house, you reverse and capsize through stacks of cloth until you land your choice– a sundress. Hey, it's hot today, let your butt breathe for a change. You dangle it by the thin straps prior to pleating up the skirt and slinking it over your crown, yanking every seam in place. Ruffles hit a stonecast above your knee, a sensible length.
But one question stands unturned.
Bra, or no bra?
Hmm.
No bra.
A proper chest of cotton cradles your breasts come rain or shine, not like Dina would mind with brine, nor judge off the heart– just freeing the girls. No biggie. The woven material lollops to a fare–thee–well, cozy on the curve, ribbing as it falls in place. Now, you just need something on your feet. Striding forth, waxing a gale, bare steps soften on each oak board's scant gap, sylvan grain texture grazing your toes. Just a few feet ayond the couch is your shoe cubby, small box frames home to varied work boots and scuffed sneakers, and based on today, you choose boots, clasping the hardy backstays in a pinch. You crouch and gripe at the sore sting your knees gave, manning it through and sliding foot by foot plumb to the squishy sole of your boots, tying up the cordy laces.
Guh, these boots are near rugged.
Ignoring the plain–in–sight fray to your boots’ hemp laces, you grasp and wrench the icy knob ‘round till the door grinds a cry open. Stepping under the arch, you brisk thump by thump and cut where the hallway bends, advancing the dining table.
A dyad of ears harks your growing din of solid steps, calling, “There you are, did'ja sleep like a log?” mellifluous notes of Dina's cadence carries, veering your sight on the kitchen– where she be, perching an oaken honeycomb rack to forearm.
That I did.
“Yuup–” you pirouette, spanning the table's border and hiking that very ridge plane into your butt, sighing, “sun was there to greet me, obnoxiously.” leaning into the table, you grouse lightheardedly.
“Oh shit– sorry ‘bout that, swear I'll put up a–”
“Don't worry, it's the one thing that actually wakes me up these days,” you crack a quip, chuckling with an open mouth.
Dina caters a kind tug on her mauve lips prior to whisking her eyes returned, a glossy honey to be. Syrupy knuckles press and crinkle in the hilt of a honey fork, pruning waxy slices and welling gold bubbles, crafting a drippy stream that canals into a glass bowl. Through laden light it gains a gilded life, casting a tiny star on the moist blob– and there you witness, nectar of the gods.
Capricious minds might have swiped a dollop of that sweet, sweet delicacy by now.
Weighing the silence, you tempt thoughts racing around your skull. What chore am I assigned today? Where is the cacophony of babbles and gurgles that follow Dina like a haunting spirit? Where did Ellie go? Ellie, Ellie, Els.
God did she look breathtaking in that tight–
A rush of thuds divert your curious eyes to the creaking stairs, preluding the swell of said babbles and a husky voice, Ellie's voice. 
“Dina?” hailed she, echoing halfway down the steps, “I changed his diaper!”
Dina cocks her head in heed, crowing back, “Okay! Just– give ‘im to her!” tone knocking against the hollowed walls, then, she sheers attention to you, “mind feeding him?” 
You hum a keen, “Mhm.” void of second qualms and wait on that certain honey–head to appear, hearing the increments of footsteps draw lower and nearer.
The honeylike cowl, stria of fawn auburn drapes soft strands to laze with a purpose on her neck, fashioning that scruffy mullet eyes prize after. Honeykin defines the head that tags after gray, deadbeat converse hop the last few steps and plant still on the oaken floor. For a honey so sinful sought you, and buys a bite of time, to stare.
Her liven pasture eyes catch on you, just a moment, and skip away, reminded of what she intends, “Uh, here.” her forearms unfurl and slink to you, offering JJ up in thankful arms.
You rub in bare flesh to hers, scooping the gurgly baby in a shyer than thankful human cradle, foreheads feckly bumping into each other as you swap, a ghosting of heads. A whaff of her work–spent scent digs into your brain, and you had to admit, it was a tinge sort of lovely. She had the farmyard tang about her, blessed with sweat, a firming physique, a stare that caught you a corpus melting in her esse.
Fairer than the weeks before her touching of you, the bounty it procured was tame, fair is the present. Fairest days, faring a harvest more splendid than dreams carping yonder ebony skies and heavy heads. An unruffled weightlessness many souls find hopes fed in, you found aplenty of in the waking world. With Ellie, you drank laughs, fiddled about the haystacks, snuck apples in your fist– nicking dewey chunks down her gullet in shared kisses, or let her shamelessly tug some of your ass meat in horny hands. Oh, isn't infidelity just the niftiest drug.
Smitten as a kitten, you are.
Carpe diem.
“You’ sleep well?” asked Els in monotone, pitching a paw up to weave through her jumbled locks, splitting strands.
Heaving a breeze, you sigh, “Decent enough, you?” and counter the question, bobbing your stance on bending knees– pray that baby doesn't scream, as always. 
“Like a baby,” she asserts, lush of a brag, dropping her hand and poking at the chubby–cheeked fella, who just got a free mention, “not so much this one, yeahh? Did you scream my ear off all night?” cooing.
“Mhm, heard that.” you add.
“Betcha did.”
“Hmm.”
Her eyes peek up, and goddess, it's that look again. Oh yes, the very gaze spilt upon the oaken table that hale spring day, a twinning star. These eyes, ladies and gentle–non–mens’, fondled a plight of husky play sat on the edge of her mucky mind, and it showed vividly in those flourishing pupils that thin her pine–lined eyes. Tilted smirk dotting dimples in her big appley cheeks, cuspid teeth goring a dint in chapped lips crying with dire need of moisture. Sexy– minus the lips maybe.
She knows what effect that look has.
What exactly sits vanward of that hormone tipsy mind, is an excerpt best served in the formula of two tongues tied– for even Ellie herself may strive to compose hunger incarnate at this fledgling hour of daybreak. And yet she cannot. The mere thought of your pussy clots her brain cells. So, how do we fix that?
Play pretend!
“Hey babe,” that auburnette already had her head whipped south towards Dina before you could flit a blink, feet sparking her a brisk carry yon the shabby oak floor. Creak, creak, clonk, foot by foot she departs a sliver of bitterness in your chest. 
A demure bitter, a sense you can simply shake off. For now.
“There you are..” spoken so softly from Dina, who still had a rack of flaxen honeycomb in her hold, slanting to an angle, “what took ya so long?” voice curling.
“Wasn't that long,” she emphasized her vowels, “m'here now..” 
“Good..” 
She was far from there.
“Mhh,” hummed Ellie, pressing her lips into a thin stroke, puckering about to intone a curly, “ohhh, honey– can I have a lick?”
“Mh–mm, that's for the apples.”
“Aww.”
A meshing of lovers. Real love, virgin love, dying love, feigned love, it all wreathes together on the outside– for the sake of earthly vein, tender were those emotions long ago. Hasty do the doves encircle a budding entanglement, and bells chime where dust remains uncollected on wanton hearts. Uncanny, do the crows crawl in their grandeur of an affection died– sprawling sooty wings through tough gravel and mushy mud, rendering them unable to fly again. Unearth that shit, and you're seated for a whole fuckfest, indeed. 
So consume what you see with a grain of shit–face nothingness.
Ellie slinks a glide upon Dina, pushing her harsher on the counter's nook and slumping arms to swaddle her torso. She cradled her in the natural bow of her body, projection of her bony hips plated dual plumb dimples in her ass, grinding with a purpose. Denim chafes on denim, bringing a light noise of fabricy licks. The cottony hem of her soiled tank begins to bunch with each rolled hump, proving the friction to be– lustful. Her hands wander her body, not yours, pausing and choking the fat plush of her thighs, losing sunny–ruddy pigment to wanting pressure, then releases, and traces back up.
Pupils of yours aimed so pinpoint on each sweep of her hand, yet, you bore an idle set of gestures. Cupping a waxy rubber bottle in your grasp, brimmed with milk opaque of lily–white and feinting a crisp chill to your fingertips, you park the nozzle to the baby's lips. Giving a squeeze with care, you feed him– idly, idly turned from the scene afore, except for your eyes.
Strain sets a pull on them as you stare.
A bitsy wince of, “Ellie..” dries moistness on her lips, shuddering to an ajar gasp.
“Mhm, like that?” husked with a bass that ripples, so, so deep in her diaphragm, you swore it nearly rattled your ears from where you poise.
A gasp died into, “We can't–” 
“But we can..” a frugal answer, meant for one pair of ears only. Only, what a joke. An ill timed joke on Dina.
Had it truly been for one person only, Ellie would not be striking risk right in the butt. Nifty as she is, juggling those risks aimlessly, she stares at you. The crown of her head ruffles up messily on her scruff as it pivots, flushed nose pointed to you, pale lids of supple creases kin to a beach cove as they open, batting reeds of chestnut everlasting. They flap, waiting for you, in the delay of that week–past chance snuffed. 
Intimidating, austere demeanor flowering in those buttony pupils– and she eyefucks you with them, even tugging a wink your way. A fucking wink. Her ploy of fondling Dina, so obscenely, clearly dirty, read in gold typeface as ‘Wish this was you.’ loud and proud. Much more so when her digits curl and dig dents in her waist, and her teeth carve marks as she bites her coral lip down, showing you. 
She's showing you how she wants to play with you.
Being an unwelcome voyeur, you felt the tail–tug to glance away. And in that fleeting veer, a loud smack resounded and left you surprised on the tips of your boots.
“Uh!” a yelp ejects air from its jailed position in Dina's gullet, forwarding her body with a jounce.
A foul, “Hehe–” trebles a giggle from Ellie, shit–eating grin withal, “so sensitive.. again?” her hand rubbing circles to where she struck ass.
Fuck.
Fuck, because she has uttered those exact words to you before, wetly on the shell of your ear, yesterday. At dead noon eve, stark flat on your bedroom door, a makeout you'd rather not divulge. Though, did Dina hear that thumping racket?
You feel a throb, a throb that drops. It beats from your maddened heart to your aching hole, literally. A web of hot arousal dribbles over the ribbing of your walls, leaking into a sticky splotch on the plateau of your panties. Fern eyes of something unholier–than–the–moan–of–a–devil felt denser working than self–pleasure, it tickled just right.
But it doesn't belong to you, so don't pluck that apple. Ignore that tickle.
“Okay, baby–” Dina gruffs and shoots her shoulders up, nudging Els’ clingy head off, “seriously, I got shit to do.”
“Hmm, suit yourself.” Ellie gave up and wacked her hands up in defense, feigning offense. 
You slither that milk–glossy tap gently from purling lips, cooing, “There you go.” as you set the bottle down with a placid thud, spurring a lone finger up to bat slowly upon the baby's nubby nose, how maternalistic of you.
A gait of striking steps softly approaches you. With your head huddled and stance shielded the opposing direction of the two, you couldn't see who that person was. Although, you deemed it safe to assume it may be Ellie, coming to poke at you again.
“Hey, could you help Ellie sweep the barn?” a honeyed voice entrances your focus instead, Dina, of course, “sheep dragged in a whole buncha’ shit, shouldn't take long though.” she notes, casually.
A long droning intervenes “Uhhh, I never volunteered to–”
“You did when you chose to live on this farm with me,” her voice strains, flowing into a breezy chuckle whilst gesturing for you to hand her JJ, “Right, babe?”
“Pshh–” 
Bearing aloft, you slink that baby's bum right into her curviform arms, feeling the cottony onesie drag on your forearm as his weight lifts off, bending at the knees scantily.
“Fiiine, I'll muck the– smelly sheep shit for ya’,” her voice bores deeper in exaggeration, becoming a blurry blob moving behind Dina's poise as she slinks forth, “gunna’ need a mask, I think.” and quips, wrapping her lithe arms to a cinch on her waist.
Dina grunts, butting her arms loose before it gets tighter and coasting a few feet yonder, “Barn, please.” reiterated she, flatly.
Tapered as her jaw is, she clenches it further, taking that blow of a refusal to her touch peevingly, teeth to a grind. Jeez, she's quite handsy today.
“Hmmph,” a grunt deadlocks at the fore of her compressed lips, rolling at the neck and cocking aside a signal for you–”c'mon.” she mumbled, clicking her waggish tongue.”
A scoff jumps from you, “M'not a horse.” you squint and trot your feet along, heavy timber steps pittering towards the ajar backdoor, dash of light spilling through.
“What? Didn't say you were.” she headstarts and jerks the door chasmally open, banging against the oaken trim.
“Door!” shouted Dina, now muffled as you enter beneath true light of day.
“Sorry!”
You wince both muck–free feet into a macula of moist earth, feeling your weight sink and squeeze a taint of muddy blob as you hoick off and traipse forth. A kittenly, “I think the only horse here is you– smelling of sheep shit,” comeback lightens the air, giggling, “Peee–yuuu, somebody get me a mask.” and shooing an invisible stench from your nostrils.
“Puuh–lease, as if you don't smell like a hot pile of garbage after your chores,” thrummed out of her gob easily, just so she could smooth in, “Emphasis on the hot.”
“God, you amuse me.” you shake your head low and smile, bloating the inwards of your cheeks ‘till they hugged your nose, two blooming mushrooms.
Her body spirals in a swing of her leg, now walking completely backwards, “Wasn't trying to amuse, m'being serious. U're hot.” she brownnosed, even giving you the fucking eye–up–and–down. 
This baser, coy weirdo. Can't go nary a breath without summoning a smile unto you.
Your wandering eyes travel up a stream of fading cumulus clouds, sheer stranding like a veil pierced with astral rays– and you mull mind over answers across those clouds, for how could you reply, origin of wit?
Then, so cross the dumbest, possibly weakest retort, transferring from sky–gaze to mouth.
“Andddddd u're not.” you skip ahead of her with a feign of sass, causing her to whip back around.
“Not what you said last night.”
Okay that's true, but..
You egg her on, splayed palm melding to cold, rusted iron grip of a shovel, “I said a great many things, remind me?” as you tease.
“Gladly.” a hotness more snug than the sun cupped your wrist, pricking your grasp open free of the shovel–hilt and spinning you like a ballerina– knocking shin to shin so you plaster flat on the splintered wood door of that barn. Els hovered close, horridly close, breath fervent to your mid–face, “where should I start, babe?”
You freeze, blizzard of a kindled burn, a smolder trenching roots through your reddening cheeks. That throb, returns. You just couldn't gauge which throbbed more severely– the banging of a mad heart, resounding echoed thwacks against caved ribs, or the chokehold of your beaded clit, squeezing up into your cunt and getting you to chafe moist arousal from your labia, wringing webs across your entrance.
No, not again, not here.
“You should start..” a gulp burdens the words back in your gut, re–rounding with a deflect, “by mucking the stable.” silkenly fallen to a wholly nether topic.
Dumbfounded was the look to darken her visage, bristly brows dropping like sawed trees and cleft of her lips bowing to a frown, unamused, “Seriously?” 
“Mhm!” you swerve the shovel handle at her unprovoked, letting her catch it prior to crouching under her barred arms and strolling off towards the sheep stall.
And like a dog, she tailgates hot on your hind. Bark bark bark, yapping ditto to one too, “Why do I gotta shovel shit n’ not you? –Huh?” yet in the most unserious, sportive tone, ever. Dorky smirk lingering in her words, pounding a laser through the thickset back of your skull.
Man, if Ellie was a dog– she'd be a damn Siberian husky. Pining for unending attention and peskily playful, too playful, even. 
Each crunch of hay behind you, every little sigh she put forth in bone–dry air, the sum of her laughy scoffs that no way in a verdant pasture heaven wouldn't be expelled without a toothsome smirk. She was the blight of you, your anathema, pockmarking inside your brain imagery of how she looked when you averted your gaze, meanwhile she beheld the rear of your head, cocksure of her annoyance. Oh, and goddess how it never falters to soar her heart high of a heavenly altitude, skirmishing every cloud with her melodious drum of life when even simply laying scrutiny to the hair awry with mess, shrouding your nape in the natural fall of it, bouncing on each step. A love of life that you could give.
That is all her mind bends to, pestering you, so help her goddess, she will enact anything, to make this abominable sin a grounded relationship.
Look upon me, won't you?
You tuck a finger around the tiny hook lock, opening the large sheep stall, “Because��” you pause, cutting past the rails and drawing an arm over to grasp a rickety rake, elevating it over the half–wall, “someone's gotta uncover the shit first.”
Her knee pooches out mildly as she recasts her weight on a wall, twiddling her thumb over every scuffed mark of the shovel, examining its ridges beneath her print. Yet, her eyes stayed absorbed in you, taking the waft of every leg stride, arching of your spine as you stoop down, extension of your hands grasping the rake's shaft– stabbing the crooked tines into a labyrinth of heaping hay, the screaming of metal scraping on concrete, causing her ears to tremble and tighten, alongside a squint. The noise muffles, then awakens as she relaxes her facial muscles, slacking her jaw to speak, “Y'really good at that, y'know..” mumbled, even.
“Mmht–” you smack your tongue moist, dithering your head in puzzled wags, “–I am literally just raking the ground,” humbled you, thinking of her dumbly so, “weirdo.”
“Pshh, yeah, but I bet you'll have this whole stall swept in like a minute tops.” she claims through a fried rasp, vailing her pale lids low as she stares– stares of yearn.
Further squashed upon hilarity, you whack a tuft of hay clean through air, then stake the rake upright to a wooden beam and lean, staring back rich with spite, “And I bet an hour for you, what– just standing there?”
“I don't see any shit yet, m'waitin’ on youu..” her vowel drawls long, smug–fuck expression curling those rosy lips.
“Oh really?” your thumb unlocks from the lot of your clutching digits, breaching the rake with a springy sound as it bludgeons against the oaken column. Ranging your foot forward, you brace the skimp distance from you to her, planting softened steps.
Maraschino cherry of her chubbed cheeks, a puckish smirk reads more and more intently as you approach. Each thwack of sole leather to hardy ground is a pump of excitement for her– reckoning your current passage as a rite of igniting something. Sway of your hips, stopping of your tracks in front of her, she wonders– or hopes, of what you'll do next.
You gave that freckled face a prompt pore–over, recognizing that flare of her brows jerking up slightly when you park optics onto her slit–open ones, inhaling, “Then let me do it.” and splaying your palm up to the ceiling, expecting the shovel plumb in–hand, easily.
“Hmm, nah.”
You furrow a lone brow, “Why not?” 
“Cuz’ I got it.” spoken cockily, lips flubbed out and head swung like a whip, winding the crescent strands of burnished hair out of her eyesight.
So cavalier.
If Dina were here, the place’d be fuckin’ primely polished. Be for real.
“Sure,” you blunt your accent, nigh on sarcasm, “what's gotten into you?” pleating your fist to a ball, you slot it between the warm pocket of breast to bicep, crossing your arms.
You.
You– are what's gotten into her. Two horny adults unchaperoned, in the convenience of privacy, sub rosa, a smidgeon apart, lusting with their parts of lechery, staring down at sorely empty hands that could be full of each other's flesh, it doesn't fare well. Emptiness, a sphere of it, sleeping in palms where it is an unwelcome voyeur– snoring, vibrating. Dormant touch never falls short of pulsation, like a magnet, it reaches for her. 
Stroking the shovel rod as she does, with those knobby fingers of hers, twining the length, was patently suggestive. Soft rings resonate with each tug of her clewed hand, rubbing up and down, slow and thorough, what the fuck. 
And worst–best of all? Eyes. Her sooty, pebble blown pupils thinning the evergreen in her eyes, pierced yours. Forbidding ones. 
God, wary of reality or not– admit this, it was definitely hot. Hot, how her ashen lids embrace the snow and veins, a human cadre of gossamery skin. Hot, because they read debaucherous– and could carbonize a bible to cinders with a single glance, sacrilege to poetry, ergo; ‘Fuck me’ eyes. And lastly, hot, as they sat a throne upon a wicked smile, exposing her front teeth lightly, spit line attached top to bottom. In short, breathing you in, made her high off lust.
Asudden, the bow indenting her mouth is backwashed in a swallow, and her eyes disappear beyond the hood of her brow bone, captivating her soul upon a sigh. A sigh she breaks contact for, a sigh she must take, in lieu of composure– when all she perceived of you was a temptation.
A bastion of forced air swells up her cheeks, lukewarm on the gums, pouty of the lips, “Fffffffuck–” mouthed she full of that exhale, shaking her head to a low duck.
“Fuuck, what?” a mimic of her quiet curse befell your lips, curving tone and brow in confusion.
That's when her head perked, an inch, a slanted inch, bedeviled eyes divided by the drop of a short russet strand, mouth pursing to vowel out, “You.” hoarsely.
“Like ‘Fuck you bitch’ or in a ‘I'm gonna fuck you’ typa’ way?” you undulate your head cartoonishly, heightening the emphasis of both those options, cause both appeared likely.
Fluff of her brows crooking weirdly, she gawks with an inlay of temptations, bought, “That is the dumbest fuckin’–” she chuckles dryly, nose facing heavenward as she spins the shovel, going clockwise ‘round you, “–question, I've ever heard.”
Step by step, on beat, you slowly spun with her encirclement, noticing now that you're inclined to back up into the wall as she kitty–corners you, idle mitt pressing finger wads to textured wood, laying spread.The scratch of it smooches your shoulder blades as you smush plane on the wall, calves ghosting wales of wood coarse enough to leave blushy marks, and yet you rely on it to camouflage from her intimidating gaze.
A heartbeat hastens, brimming your throat with a blockage capable of consuming the words before ears could, tethering a timid gasp out instead.
Ellie rasped deep, “Cat got your tongue, hmm? Don't back down ‘n me now..” the heat of her face hovers close, cocking her head laterally to fit perfectly in your headspace, air blown from every syllable fanning your sutured mouth.
The weight her stare threw upon you was, probing, and direful. Every attempted scape–glance was a gut instinct, a reflex when shagged to a set of human bars. Flesh of bone, bone in flesh, arm to arm, what a bloody mess.
You curl your shoulders inwards, pressing folded elbows skin–tight to your ribs, “Dumbest question?” a gulp cuts the sentence, “you didn't even answer.”
“Want me to?”
“Yeah,” in defense, you tested her, “I do.”
“Ohhaha– okay..” Els’ cadence rose to amused laughter, shifting on her feet slightly, “We can fuck.” but she spoke it like you requested of it, although, did you?
Fuck.
A bulbous mass pushed your legs clean apart, trampiling the dress to a tight pull around your thighs. Confounded, you drop sights, sinking your chin in towards your neck and realizing– it was her knee.
Rough denim rustles clemently, a whisper of two fabrics meeting, between your quads. A friction so faint, so hush, begins to purr more acutely when a– ahh, pressure. A carnal pressure is given, given with urge, urging on your barely confined clit.
It stings as she drives her knee in, getting  you to clench your insides, to seize up.
A juxtaposition doomed to interblend skin.
You impel up on the wall, heel sloping to rest on the flat trim. It smashed your pussy lips, causing a chafe, ramming fabric inside the rim of your hole, a velvety draw of sleek depressing on the cotton tongue of your panties makes it stay there. Thereupon, her groin grinds a roll, nudging your pussy on top of her knee.
“Remember this, babe?” Ellie gives thrall to the dense steel in her vocals, ticking her head aside more to pass that breath firmly on your ear, “–‘member how good my knee felt? Mhm? ‘So fuckin’ good’, you said?”
A diabolical coo, she's trying to get under your skin figuratively– and literally further.
But it surfaced that memory like a buoy, erecting ayond the navy sea line with its eye–catching signal. In you, it materializes. Last night, came a blanket of umbra, yawning its penumbra in the horizon. Witching hour, obscene–eyed, gloaming your senses and eating away at deceit. Deceived? Yeah, that's how you felt, daylight by day bright, a misinterpreter.
All throughout the day, she would ghost right past you en route to Dina, much like earlier– and love up on her. Spread her taint of arousal between you, her, and you, then her again. Leading on last night, where she stowed her knee, just like now, affirming how mortally she may succumb to madness without your vulnerable phasing unto her, except, in a casual way, short of poetry. On top of that continuous grind she gave on your groin, she marked you with a claim so bold,
So freakish, so outré.
Dirty with her perverted thoughts.
You remember it, hard.
‘You love me just as much as your pussy does, face it.’ 
Hence, her knee felt as fucking liberating as it did that stone stark night. Your clit throbs with an ache, coiling your womb in moreish begs, more, moree.. please more. 
“I remember.” uttered softly, throat shutting on the words as you choke up in sensation.
A cordial chuckle blows summery hot on your ear, “Hehe, good,” and is soaked deeper in with a puckered kiss, popping quietly, “Good girl.”
That made you shiver, in a growing delight. A heat seeping between your folds, has you bearing down on her knee, slopping that raw precum all over the ruined seams of your underwear. In bodily reaction, your cunt shriveled in on itself, squelching a drop on barely–there textile– glossing a wet patch on the knoll of her knee.
Ellie espied that moistness saturating through her jeans and spreading warm on flesh when it seeps, slinking her leg a wimp inch out to gauge the spot, a fucking masterpiece, smack dab on her knee, “Fuck,” she spews, pinning teeth to lip, “for me?” she questions, even with an obvious ass answer staring her in the eyes.
Forget Dina, this felt right– too right.
“For you.” 
Her teeth bare vast in a smirk, doubling up her cheeks, “God, I love you.” because finally, fucking finally, she will have her cake and eat it too.
But first, eat the space before you.
And so she does, tucking the wad of her nose squashed in the crevice of your nostril and cheek, brushing of her mildly cracked lips greet yours to part, a balmy ask of entrance. Wagging against, the skin barely hugs with cushy compress, then she nips your bottom lip and wedges her own between, indulging the bump of your cupid's bow to cradle a whisker inside her suckled hold– her humid realm of fog. Buds connected, she felt like butter searing, softness melting, disintegration inside your clasp of a satiny hole, and she was pungent of farmland, muck sweat, everything you could have prest for. Ellie pushes passion in the form of little spit bubbles down your throat– ingesting your voice, your taste, your brain, essence in whole. Taking each other in your own two gullets, bolts of song, and long gaping moans– and even longer pants of make–out exhaustion.
“Mhhh,” she shoves another groan to rattle your teeth, hopping over cloud nine with each moan you reciprocated– like music in a fairytale, a ballad, or of a siren song, splendidly spellbinding, yes? “–fhhck yeshh–” She hums, forwarding a buck of her knee fiendishly.
You yelped, and she liked that, an impish grizzle pushing past the swollen smile and drags saliva across yours.
But.
Those hands once empty, cannot lie powerless to being so. Hers, fly from the wall behind your head and trace down your biceps, buckling unfurled over the bulge of your loose breasts and cup them tender, giving a squeeze that dimples flesh above the neckline of your dress. Not a complaint rose from you, you liked it, yearned hard of it– loved it.
She could tell by the mere movement of your back, arching into her grasp, getting her fingers to squish them even flatter, laughing the kiss to a pause, “Look at you–” she hinds back to look at you, taking your eager rush to follow her lips into regard, “fucking cutie.”
“Don't call me cutie.” you astern.
“Why noott–”
“No.”
A grin enlightens her anyways, “Got it,” and slides her lip back between yours, suckling the plump of your upper, “Mhmm..” hummed so gravelly, so good on your ears, yummy.
This girl will be the first suspect of your murder. Murder of love.. in spring.
Adjourning the freshly–sown kiss with a sloppy smack, you interrupt, “Y'know–” mhhp, a quick peck, “–think I love you too.”
“Think?” she knits her brows together dumb on your featherly melded foreheads, squishing the grooves that form in–between, “could already tell from last night,” her rasp makes it sound of a patent fact, chuckling like an asshole when you whine amid her tease, “hmm–hm, sorry babe.”
“God, you're such a dick,” you bind your head lower and ghost your barren lips over her chin, smiling amongst your dim shadow.
Index and thumb of her hand thaw ripely of your chin, exerting under the bone and beckoning you up with a kind pull, “Would a dick do this–” she twines you to the left, “Mmph,” pasting a kiss beneath one eye, “or this,” twines you to the right, pasting another peck, “or even this?” and lastly, twines you faceward.
Patent of her pattern, you expect a delicate pair of those blood swell, pouty lips to spare something planets away from porny lust– a promise, that none of this was bad. However, hopes are dashed like a racehorse when your chin rears free and a blur of her auburn head plunges out of sight, and under the hood. 
“Els’, where are you–”
Oh.
A gale of air spills up the gap of your thighs, sought upon by the whipping of your sundress’ hem up crinkled in her dual grasps, pushed against your hip bones. Knees grind in shallow dust, planting just next to your parked feet with a soft rub between the four, the perfect position, an orgasmic view. Ellie lets a gasp free upon eyeing the fat blotch soaked thoroughly to a glisten, fabric eased in your labia, showing her the shape of it. God, ‘think she saw you clench just now.
She balls the fabric to one hand, dropping her other and husking dry, “There she is– fuck, missed me?” a waggy finger rises to your clit, toying it in meager flicks– almost as to pet it.
A wince cries from you, “Ahh–” and you perk on your toes, inching away from her fingertip now padded in your sodden arousal.
Yet that fucking finger follows, pressing a hiemal print to flatten your bloated clit, clothed labia hugging the willowy knuckle. Cocky chuckle– likeness of her unabashed assholery and spilt through grit teeth, she muses in your clamping pussy lips, “Hehe, yeah? Need my fuckin’ fingers, huh?” and those damned coos, that tender tune, gosh– you can't get enough of it.
But you've had your fill of plaguing rumination.
Dina's away, nay a breath of her lingers here, not a peep of her can disrupt you, disrupt what you feel– how Els’ makes you feel. It's not wrong, if you're not the one suggesting it. It's not immoral, if it was never held in the hands of your intention. It's not your fault, if you let it transpire. Nothing to rue, not your sin, not your wrongdoing. 
So you pluck the apple.
An ease of your quads down pricks your clit with the poke of her finger, cushing the delicate flesh, “Mhm– yes, yess.” whined you, nigh on breathless.
“That's right,” thick is her voice– like a coddling of wood thicket, pushing past the devout lips that embed themselves in the chub pliancy of your belly, lain of a smooch to your womb, a quiet one, “thaat's fuckin’ right.” and jerking your clit measured with tease, idly rubbing.
The gentle marrow of that contact with your belly and your clit, sent you aquiver. Your abdomen, shaking lightly against her mouth with a breath in, lading your stomach with a rise, high–strung by that simple kiss. Too sweet, you thought, sweetly toxified of honey, unorthodox to how hoggish she usually strikes as– you expected her usual playfulness.
Softness can be addictive, and her version of soft, definitely was.
“Soo fuckin’ good t'me..” her lips detach only to press back in, multiple times, same exact spot. She wouldn't dare budge, not when it was deemed her duty to kiss you there by some unknown force, or her own accord. Ellie whispers, lugging those honey–drug lips over the pouch of your belly, “need that good fucking pussy n’ my mouth.”
A tilt, a modest slant of your hips projecting your crotch against her collarbone was your ask of entrance, and she gave her answer so fast.
“Hold this,” she cranes the clump of skirt to one of your paws, letting go when you meet fingers over fingers with her and hold your skirt to your ribs. She stops playing with your clit completely, tracing said finger up your groin and under your pantyline, pleating the band in on itself as she journeys it to your knees– letting it freefall from there.
Despite the milk–warm weather lambent to your forehead when settled under the sun, meant zilch to the cooler world inside the barn. Not wintry, but a tangible change sensed in your bare pussy. That's why you fastened your quads to a clench, nearly sucking in your cunt– oh, and the fact that two olive fern eyes are bluntly viewing it. Stage fright, much?
 A fried gasp of, “Ohh, shit–” chills it further with exhalation upon discovering the raw truth to your aroused pussy, engorged in size and pinkish in sex irritation. Ellie was drunken in that eyeshot of serumy precum wetting a film between your slit, drawing gluey webs over your hole, barely open for full study. She needs you open, she longs to see, gulping a horny thought audibly before speaking, “spread them pretty legs for me, hmm? C'mon, it's just me–” she assures, donning that calming placidity whilst palming the round of your knees apart to guide you, “–there we go, uh'huh, fuck..” departed of her voice, husky as she studied the open spread of your filthy hole, dripping for her like it fucking knew she was looking at it.
All you could engage was a tunneled stare down of your protruding crotch and her reddish–brown dusted crown, the slump your knees took clung on the flank of her biceps– plowing with an indent in her bare sun–baked skin. Els’ face so sanguine compared to the paler pigment of her fingers, which now push your thighs uncomfortably agape to the extent of bulging fat between her knuckles. Eyes bark, luring under lids so heavy and lashes like a vignette– they bark and say, ‘Keep your fucking legs open.’
Say no less.
Taken in awe, “She's so fucking pretty–” she curses with meaning, a means to make it known, licking up a river between your folds upon seeing that exhilarating view, cupping a glob of slick in her pink muscle.
“Shit..” 
Withdrawing her tongue, she swallows the creamy delight, “Prettiest pussy ever, ‘uh'huh, that's right.” Ellie being Ellie, she slaps it, eyeballing the spongy skin recoiling.
“Ah!” 
“Yeah..”
Your nude cunt was honeydew heaven in her eyes, gleaming wet like grapefruit, that's why her tongue was already slipping out on open air. Head inching to intimacy, the button of her nose dovetails seamlessly between the tippity top of your folds, and your clit, kissed with a hot spell. That bud, it fit perfectly in the wrapping of her lips, straightaway suctioned further into the gummy pucker of her mouth.
An ache zaps that little bouquet of nerves and coerces you to nearly swoon over it, yelp hitching, “Ha– aah,” and shudder teething, “Ellie..” with a hump of your glutes butting her head back, only stirring that hungry mouth of hers to pop off and swaddle it back in, tongue flicking.
Her nostrils sunk deeper in, airflow turning muffled in your crotch– yet her moans remained, abounding, vibrating on your sensitive pearl, “Mhhhh, mhmm.” rumbling deep under the soft squelching her moving jaw brought to fruition. 
Ellie, you fucking god, giving those plumate licks that are barely there, but scarily paired with deftness, getting you to squirm and squeal, “Yess– baby, yess..” That pink muscle snagging under the hood sometimes, smacking that pretty tiny clit of yours around with foams of flavor whisking onto her taste buds, humming in the notes of sex.
“Mhhh, fhhck.” her lips sever an inch, mumbling into your clit, “fuck you and your pretty little hole, god, fuck you.” she curses, cause how dare you let her impulses conquer, returning a trio of digits along your legs and swiftly finding your pussyhole, dilating the lips apart and shoving all three inside. How dare you, engross her ears in your moans echoing akin of a cathedral in her skull, ushering her to fuck you unholy.
“Ellie!” you wail, hoisting on your toes a second and clutching her in those slobbering walls– which only gushed a leak of arousal on her digits, and blocked her from further thrusting slightly, taken aback by the sudden stretch.
Her lips pop off again, slurping up the wet laces strung to her pout from your fattened labia, “Schlp– jesus, you are fucking tight,” the deepness rippled in her voice, groggy from the moist caking her gob, “let me in, don't push me out.. c'mon..” she coos gently, eyeballing the swallow her fingers took past your soaked lips, knuckles disappearing.
“O–ohh,” you tried to mouth ‘okay’, but the word just didn't fit the part.
“Just like that..” Ellie cools a fresh sigh, praising with a proud curl on her face, “Good fuckin’ pussy..” 
Letting go, your gut loosens and heightens the sensation of her skinny fingers bottoming soundly inside your vagina, feeling the callouses rub as they curl and tickle your angelsent spot, airing lips find purchase behind her fingers– and a pointy nose bumps your clit pervaded with purpose.
Spry is the moan, moaning over ‘spilled milk’, “Oh my g– uhnn..” woe is you, clawing phantomly at the spring that coils inside your womb, unknowingly providing Ellie's eager mouth with your precum.
The physical reality around you, suddenly only consisted of you, her, the barrier that stills your back, and a void inside you– being filled.
Literally.
And figuratively? Cause jeez, you must give sanctuary to a sin–eating, fleshoid beast inside your bone prison of a body, coming back here for seconds like that.
Might you be the dirty.. dirty dog instead?
Rivers of filth, she pumps those glossy droplets out of you, leathery scars caressing your ribbed canal with each pleasuring undo of your senses, she steals them like they are impartial to your bliss– bliss is all she needed you to feel for her. Fuck the worry, trash the heartache, yank the anxiety out, and soften into a pretty blob atop her fingers.
Her sultry blessing sitting upon those fingers, that's how she deems you– you do well to remember that. Her, willing frame of hips thrusting back down on the friction she gives, burrowing her nose a scent so naturally seducing, a pheromone, fucking elates her own throbbing pussy. Nothing sugary, nothing stomach–churning, just the taint of you. The threading of her jean's crotch was enough of a brute, bullying her egged clit by driving a split in it, flattening the fleshy hood everytime she shifted weight from knee to abdomen, poor her. 
“Huhnn– shit,” heaved grizzlier in her carp of stimulation decay, lack thereof rubbing one out herself and watching your delicate skin expand and crease. How could you blame her– her hand looked so right plugging your hole.
You suck your belly in, drawing tense on that thickset motion playing with your g–spot, whimpering, “Els’, please.. I can't..” a well floods in your waterline, searing with tears of crystalline iodine.
You really can't.
That scruffy mullet hides most of her big cranium, but, it was so fucking hot seeing the nominal stroke of her face, blushing strawberries betwixt your butter–spread legs. Her nose bobs north and south, dragging the bulb of cartilage over that nippy rosebud she happily exhales onto, pushing you over the earthly edge born of paltry touching. Ellie cognizes the slick–clear gospel that you were pending climax, manifesting as your needy bear downs into her slopping mouth practically lactating your pussy juices deep in the pit of her stomach, and the swelling of your wooed clit led on by her tongue, growing big and reddish on her nose to where it clasps the tip in a pillowy fashion, dabbing a glob of creamy sap. 
A mouthquake splutters wetness mixed with her spit across your inner–thighs abd vibrates your folds, betrothal of her voice waking back up, sourly muted, “She's– suh good.. mhphh– to me..” 
“Ellie..” you falter on breath, leavening in pitch.
“Phh–” a frothy sound garbled in your pussy lips, pushing her spit bubbles inside your gaping hole and traveling deeper with her fingering you, “makin’ this pushhy’ mine..” flubbed she, lapping up her cupid's bow of smeared sleek.
Your hole clamps her in as the pang begins to tick its patchy count of time, wearing the glass knot of your womb to a cracking, and troubling the base of her digits.
“Fuck, you wanna’ make this harder?” she sterned to the velvety rim of you locking on her triple shafts, porking webs of your pre–finish to teardrop down your walls as her palm splashes against your loch–sodden slit and mashes your g–spot repeatedly, plush of your labia bouncing in ripples. The noises were abundant, and pornographic, mushy as she fixes so much of your arousal on the pads of her fingers, hormones spiking at the lewd noises, “you hear that baby, ooh, fuck.” foxily ‘ooed’ that foxy–maned girl, beguiled in how your pussy spurts for her.
It wept in slaps, eliciting a palping squelch to bang, bang– bang– pound, brandishing a chilly tempest through and through your bloating labia, quivering as it readies to release. The stuffing was intimate– like a punch inside your spirit, coaxing the fragile glass to a rend, ergo, pushing out every lash of pure lucid squirt.
On the beat of your hole gushing, yelps batting you shut in the plain intensity such an orgasm brought forth, tore Ellie from simply just watching– to drinking every drop. Her voice, dusky in the backdrop of your wails sounded, “Yes– yess, babe fuckk that's it.. mhm, all over my fuckin–” her words wane as her lips clock in, a sudden rush of void fleets with her fingers sheathing out, drawing a long lubricous bunch of webbing only to be nourished in the warmth of her mouth– pursing into your labia and shaking about as you squirt.
Ellie has no shame in getting soiled of you, even the devil himself blushed at the linkness of her mid–face pancaking your lissom skin apart, spewing you wide.
“Ah! Nuh– nonono, t'much, too– uhhnn..” your throat fails you, clumping wads of words that wanted to breach, but her mouth was too good, and it's fucking obvious that she wouldn't stop, not when she can have you like this, bucking onto her flat tongue. Sinfully good, disgusting in the rawest fashion, making your crotch burn with ecstasy more than it already did.
Water upon the push of her mouth, blowing in and slopping noisily at the meat of your pussy lost it's carry to your ears. A biome of shadow, veils your vision and a pressure rains less than tender between your eyes, blurring everything before you, ebbing the grasp of your skirt to an impossible job, hands ashake. All you could gauge above the hood was fiery sweat, hot, steaming– taunting sweat, licking at your forehead.
Her nose headbutts into your vagina, slinking languidly as her head finally smacks off your numb folds, laughing, “Holy fuck– y'taste so good,” the air windy to your soaked entrance, convulsing in front of her barren eye, “shoulda’ let me lick you sooner.”
Huff, and puff, until the binds of your chest blow down, sprouting with an entire current of air, panting more than dramatic as you dwindle down like a bird's plume, “Too.. huh– haah, bad.”
A new kiss is savored to your clit, absorbing the snift her snort gave, “Haha– yeah yeah, n'you liked it, don't lie.”
No lie was home to call. You’ve a truthful virtuality.
You truly did like it, love it, cave obsession over that moment– for now it passes, and not a peck of guilt ran prickly on your arm hairs, saving your gullet free of a stony gulp. No crows died in the revelation of your scandal, only doves, encirclement in a trance chirping nuptials to be had.
I really do love you, Ellie.
Is that so bad?
“I can’t catch my– oof,” you grab sudden air with your fructifying lungs, “–can’t catch my fuckin’ breath.” and the struggle was visible, muscles like puppet strings to your fingers losing proper grasp and billowing the skirt plop on her head.
The rotund shape of it wiggles from the draping hem, continuing to laugh when her wet–handed fingertips poked thin on your ankle, bulging on both sides as she drew your panties back up all the way, slithering under your skirt’s canopy and stretching the band to a snap on your hips, skin tiding, jerking you off warning, which for sure winded the breath back in ya.
“Sheesh, no care for my panties at all?” remarked you of fun wit, gliding your thumb apart to rub the bend of your hip crest.
“You literally ruined them before–”
“And whose fault is that?” you winched from the barn wall and met pupil–to–pupil with her rising figure, revealing how slick–fucked her face really is, glossing with evidence of your cunt.
“Mine..” proudly, guilt was basal to her tone, nonexistent, inching closer to you with a slight wobble swaying on her heels.
You hark the crunch of gravel below, but keep your gaze airborne, Ellie–borne, “Exactly.”
“Cause m'hot?”
“No,” you rock your head, evil smirk deepening the corners of your lips to your gums, “that's a dumb question.”
Her arms begin to slink at fore, elbows chafing her flank, “Wow, stole my line.”
“Still dumb.” you pinch the neckline of her tank, straining it up to wipe her mouth clean.
“Coulda’ just used my hand.” she still does, the dork, purging any excess to the hill of her bent wrist.
You scrunch your nose fakely, “Uck,” and express, mumbling, “Bring a rag next time.” 
Her hands then drop, creeping towards your sides, “Didn't think we were gonna–”
“Liar.”
Those strapping hands bend with wrinkles in her knuckles as they plant pleasantly on your hips, fingernails curling with lustier keys, tugging you plane on her body, “You're so fucking cute,” is all she could say, because there was no stem of denial baying for a different answer,
Doing this was always lingering a tail on her thoughts.
“And such a bitch, fuuck– want you so bad,” complained she, pushing the last of her grizzled groans past her blood–swell lips, which now dive in the sweaty nook of your swan neck– bespattering the sensitivity, “–need y’so bad..”
You comb a paw of fingers through her honey–cresten mane, dividing strands apart and giving a fond press to her scalp, whispering upon her pale–rosen ear, “Then have me–”
“I can’t,” her crumbled lips fail to cling, dragging dry beneath your ear, “I fucking can’t.” wearily said, wearing her voice to nothing.
Infidelity.
Wasn't nice at all, on both sidewalks.
A purer bid of tears wet her cheek, drenching into the flesh of your neck as she pushes into you, holding you dear, vast afar from intentions to let go.
“I know..” was a rare comfort, and wasn't one to you right now– for plucking that apple, ripped you of innocence. A blind eye you turn when sensuality is awake. Enrapture chokes your senses, sweeps you in the moment, clouds your memory of those ugly, nasty etceteras– those facets that deplore it. Even now, when Ellie collapses weight onto her ankles, pressing you into that same wall you saw heaven on, touching heartbeats incandescent for each other's total consumption, weeping wet on your bare shoulder– it hurts, aches you to say, “But I don't want to know.”
Clutch of your neckline, she bruises her knuckles tight in it, spiteful almost– gagging on tears that roll the wrong road, “Guh– fucking hell, don't say that..” 
“Ellie, it's–”
“Don't.”
“Not your fault.” you flap your fingers up, palm still glued, patting her head.
She doesn't belong to you.
Yet you act like she does.
Pity.
A sniffle is the intake of air you feel before her nose skims off, craning her neck to an angle where she can gaze adjacent to your cheek, for beholding may prove a demise. But she can't forgo this one ask, this dream perched upon her brain, “Babe..” she purrs, dead of cadence.
“Hmm?” a whirl invites your nose to her cheekbone, offering you the picture of her side–profile. Oh, those lashes so dashing, they curl, darken her snow of eye, and trap tears.
Why, it's as if a rainbow overcasts those auburn reeds.
Ellie's capsized tune finds its stream back to that scratchy rasp, silkenly intoning on your earlobe, “Can you sleep with me tonight?” her buds ghost the rim, popping on the syllables.
Is that even possible? 
You debate with the figments in your mind, casting doubt over your facial muscles, knitting, “Ellie, you know–”
“I don't.”
“Els.” 
Long forked strokes of her fingers run up your jaw, scrolling you to then focus on her face cocooning your entire sight, and a husk enlaces you, “Forget about Dina,” a glimmer summons her lips to curl once again, “just tonight, fucking please?”
Fucking please.
A silence rots in the cordial space sparsely separating you, wrenching her brows with a ravine indenting between them– the serious look you love. And her hold of hands appear to deepen in your cheeks, claiming your skin as one, melting into her prints, squeezing a reply from you.
“Please?”
Odds may dote on you, think about this.
“Okay.”
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joelsgreys · 11 months
Text
a safe haven l six
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter
summary: Joel opens up to you about a very traumatic loss; he makes a confession about his feelings towards you; you make a confession of your own and it leads to something more.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. fluff, infidelity, Joel and reader are having a full blown affair at this point, angst, talks of child loss (Sarah), lots of feelings come to the surface, two idiots realize they are in love. SMUT. oral sex (m receiving), size mention bc i will always be convinced our man is packing) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up pls), reader discovers she likes praise, creampie.
word count: 8.4k
Caught up in a web
I was gettin’ kind of used to stayin’ there
and out of the blue, I fell for you
now I remember what it feels like to fly
you give me butterflies
August 2024
The next two and a half weeks that had passed by had done so without major incident, but things had taken a somewhat complicated turn.
You and Joel still manage to see one another a handful of times even with the exhausting amount of hours he’s been putting into his patrol duties, though it isn’t nearly as often as either of you wanted or would have preferred. But there’s no other choice.
After numerous sightings of a group of potential raiders earlier on in the month, Tommy has no choice but to assign every last competent, able bodied patrol person, including himself, to work double shifts to ensure the safety and security of Jackson. He and Joel had come across the remnants of a campsite just about fifteen miles south of the settlement and they worried the group was hiding out, planning a violent, ambush attack on the community when it was least expected. Tommy had done his absolute best to keep the word from spreading throughout the commune to avoid causing a panic, but he found himself having to fess up when people went up to him and all but furiously demanded to know the truth—the real reason behind why their loved ones were now being asked to be on the other side of wall twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.
Joel, who you’d come to learn is one of the sharpest and strongest shooters out of everybody in Jackson besides his younger brother, reluctantly took on the role of lead patrolman. He had been assigned an absurd amount of double shifts to work, making it almost impossible for you to see each other. You’d understood he had no choice but to comply, but still—that didn’t make the situation any easier to deal with. Both of you tried to make the very best of what little time you managed to get together, but it hadn’t been nearly enough. As if not being able to see Joel wasn’t agonizing enough for you, the fact that he was out on the other side of the wall scared the hell out of you. The only way to keep yourself from losing your goddamn mind was to distract yourself.
You did everything that you could to keep your mind off Joel being out there. Burying yourself deeply into your work helped for the most part.
Besides that, Joel had asked you as a favor to him to keep a watchful eye on Ellie in light of his absence. You’d spend most of the day with her in the stables, you would have lunch with her in the mess hall along with Dina—in the evening, you would go home and make dinner early enough to fix an extra plate of food for her so she had a nutritious homemade meal to enjoy instead of two decades old canned ravioli. You would take it over to her place and drop it off before Luke came home from the clinic. Ellie waited until it was late in the evening and he was asleep to return the plate back to you, and the two of you would take a lengthy, late night stroll through the town, keeping each other company for a while before heading off to bed. She hadn’t seemed to be all too concerned about Joel, but then again, Ellie had known better than you did that he could take care of himself out there just fine. If anything, you spending so much time with her had been more for your benefit than hers, and you started to suspect that just like Joel had asked you to keep an eye on Ellie, he had also asked her to keep an eye on you too. After all, you had made it abundantly clear to him that you were nervous about him being out on patrol while there was a possible threat looming in the shadows.
By the time the middle of August came around, no additional traces of the group had been found—they seemed to have vanished into thin air, causing a wave of relief to sweep through the town. Tommy and Maria finally decided to ease up and end the double shift assignments, allowing every single patrolman and woman to return to their normally scheduled work rotations. Joel went back to his usual early morning and afternoon patrol hours, which meant that the both of you could resume your clandestine meetings out behind the barn underneath the stars.
“I missed you,” you say, sighing out contentedly as you lean back against him.
You and Joel are sitting out on the large, vacant patch of field behind the barn, his soft, green flannel blanket acting as a barrier between your bodies and the itchiness of the grass the animals would graze on during the day. You’re nestled in between his long legs, your back against his warm chest as the two of you share the delicious, ripe peach he’d brought along with him as a surprise for you.
“Mm, probably not as much as I was missin’ you, sweet girl,” Joel replies with a hum before taking a bite of the fruit. Noticing there’s only a couple bites of it left, he reaches his arm around and holds it out for you, his bulging bicep straining against the sleeve of his faded black t-shirt. “Here, darlin’. Want you to go on and have the rest.”
“These will be out of season in a couple of months.” Giving a sad little pout to nobody in particular, you sigh again and sink your teeth into the peach. Through a small mouthful, you realize, “Who knows when we’ll ever get peaches around here again.”
Joel’s lips meet the spot on your neck right behind your ear and you feel him grin. “S’alright with me. I’ve got my sweet, perfect little peach right here. And I’ve got her all year round.”
You playfully elbow him in his chest. After polishing off the rest of the peach, you lick off the pit and toss it out into the distance.
“Didn’t think you’d be the type to litter,” he teases.
“It’s biodegradable,” you retort with a tiny laugh as you leaned your head back against his shoulder and gaze up, admiring the stars that sprinkle the velvet night skies. “Or at least, I think it is. Come to think of it, I never paid much attention in life science when I was in FEDRA school. It was my least favorite subject.”
You gather your hair in your hand, bringing it over your shoulder to keep it out of Joel’s face. 
“Mm,” he whispers, licking his lips as his eyes fall to the delicate flesh of your exposed neck. He ghosts his mouth over your pulse point and his warm breath fans against your cool skin, prompting your eyes to flutter closed. “Temptin’ me on purpose now, ain’t you, baby?”
“I would never do such a thing,” you object in an innocent tone and he immediately clocks the smirk behind it. A comfortable silence falls over the both of you and while you’d normally welcome the peaceful, tranquil moment with him, tonight it feels impossible. You had gone so long without Joel over the last couple of weeks—at least, it had certainly felt long—and you realize one of things you’d missed most about him was the sound of his voice. “Ask me a question, Joel.”
“What kinda question can I ask, darlin’?”
Feeling brave, you offer, “You can ask me anything you want. No limits.”
Humming curiously to himself, he tries to think of something he hasn’t asked you before. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Really, Joel?” You snort, trying to mask your laughter as he rests his chin on your shoulder, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin as he presses his cheek against yours. “I just told you that you can ask me anything you want and that’s your question? What’s my favorite color?”
“Yeah,” he answers, simply. “I wanna know what it is.”
He turns his head, lifting it off your shoulder to brush a gentle kiss to your temple. Joel could not, for the life of him, even remember the last time he’d shared this kind of physical tenderness with anybody. Forehead kisses, holding your hand, all sorts of little tokens of affection he didn’t think he could still be capable of giving to someone came to him so naturally with you—you had brought out an entirely different side of him, one that had been buried beneath his rough exterior for well over two decades and the part that Joel still can’t quite wrap his own head around is that you’d done it with such ease. He’d go as far as to say that you had done it without even trying.
“So?” Joel prompts you. “What is it?”
“It’s brown,” you answer. 
“Brown? Why brown?”
“Because. It’s earthy, it’s warm—and your eyes are brown,” you state, grinning to yourself as you feel his loud laugh rumble through his chest and against your back. “What about you? I mean that’s if Joel Miller even has a favorite color,” you giggle teasingly, placing a hand on one of his denim clad legs. You then add, “Actually, I’m kind of curious now. Do you have a favorite color, Joel?”
Joel hesitates, momentarily holding onto his answer.
“I do. It’s purple,” he finally responds after a brief bout of silence. “Purple’s my favorite color.”
“Purple,” you repeat after him, unable to mask the surprise in your tone. “Really?”
Joel chuckles. “What? That weird or somethin’?”
“Uh, sort of. For one, you just don’t strike me as the kind of guy who would have a favorite color in the first place—and even if you’d told me you did I would have never guessed that it was purple,” you admit, sheepishly. You trace a small circle around his knee with your finger and curiously ask him, “Why is purple your favorite color?”
“‘Cause. That’s my daughter’s favorite color.”
You scoff playfully. “Come on, Joel. Ellie’s favorite color sure as hell isn’t purple. Her favorite color is green. But red’s a close second.”
When he speaks again, his voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear him despite being in such close proximity. 
“I ain’t talkin’ about Ellie.”
At first, it doesn’t quite register, but after a moment of processing, the pieces click together in your mind. Joel has another daughter. Your smile vanishes and you slowly turn around between his legs to face him. Looking at him with wide, shocked eyes, you utter, “What?”
“Her name was Sarah,” he confesses, softly. 
Was. 
Your throat dries at his use of past tense.
Because you know exactly what that means. 
Opening your mouth to speak, words fail you and you close it. You suddenly remember the way he would tap dance around certain details of his first life in Texas. Whenever he would speak about his life before the outbreak, he would be cautious, careful to watch himself and his words. You’d known Joel had been keeping something from you, something he wasn’t ready to disclose to you for one reason or another—but never would you have guessed that him having a daughter would be the secret he had been hiding.
By now, you’ve turned your body around and you kneel in front of him, sitting back onto your heels. Not wanting to push him too hard or too fast, you clasp your hands together in your lap and wait silently—patiently—for him to continue when he’s ready.
“Sarah’s favorite color was purple. She’d wear it all the time. Her backpack, her school supplies, they all had to be purple or she wouldn’t use them. When she was nine years old, she begged me to paint the walls of her bedroom purple. One day, I took her to Home Depot after school to look at all the different shades.” He laughs, musing, “Didn’t know there could be so goddamn many of them. Anyhow, I told her I’d think ‘bout it. I went back to the store the next day while she was at school, bought a couple cans of the lavender shade I knew she’d like the best and by the time she got home, I had it all painted for her,” he explains, a sadness glazing over the fondness of the memory. “She loved purple. It was the color of the t-shirt she was wearin’ the last time we were together on the night of the outbreak.”
Your heart sinks. “Joel, you don’t have to tell me—”
“S’alright, peach. I wanna tell you ‘bout her,” Joel assures you, reaching out for your hand and taking it in his own. “I trust you, baby. Trust you more than enough to tell you ‘bout Sarah.”
Nodding, you lace his fingers together with your own. 
“I was never married,” he starts to say, knowing whether or not he’d also had a wife before the world ended would be a question on your mind—that’s if it wasn’t already. “I was never with Sarah’s mom. I met her in high school and we’d been friends up through senior year of college. We started to date then, but after a year, we realized we weren’t a good fit together. We broke up and a couple months later, we found out she was pregnant with Sarah. Her mom and me, well we both made an agreement to co-parent her as best as we could. Just a few months shy of our daughter’s first birthday, she realized she couldn’t handle raisin’ a child at our age. I tried real hard to convince her to stick around and keep tryin’ but I couldn’t get her to stay. She bailed out on me, but the worst part of it was that she bailed out on Sarah.”
He stops for a moment and you give his hand a gentle, but firm, encouraging squeeze.
“As if bein’ a father to a baby girl didn’t scare the shit of me, being a single father made it all feel so much scarier, y’know? I was young, in my early twenties. I was always workin’ so damn much, tryin’ to build my construction business with Tommy. Now I had this tiny little person to take care of, and I honestly didn’t know how the fuck I was gonna do it.” Joel pauses, his sixth sense detecting that your knees have started hurting from the position you’re in. He closes his legs together and pulls you to sit on his lap. “It wasn’t easy and I probably made a lot more mistakes than I’d like to admit. But somehow, I made it work and it turned out alright. Sarah was my best friend in the whole entire world. Hell, I loved her more than fuckin’ life itself. She could be a handful, but she was perfect in every single way. She was my sweet little butterfly, my ray of sunshine on even the darkest of days.”
Swallowing harshly, you ask, “What happened to her, Joel?”
Joel sighs, resting a hand on your bare thigh. His fingers skim the scalloped hem of your floral shorts. “It was the first night of the outbreak. We were tryin’ to get out of Austin—me, Sarah, and Tommy. We didn’t know where the hell we were gonna go or what we were gonna do, but we just needed to get far away from the city. We got separated at one point when our pickup truck got into an awful wreck. I had Sarah in my arms ‘cause she couldn’t walk—she’d broken her ankle in the crash. Tommy told me to get her to the river where she’d be safer, said he’d find his way over there to meet us.”
Your heart begins to pound. Part of you almost doesn’t want to hear how his story is going to end—because in a way, you already know how it’s going to end. But if Joel is telling you about Sarah, it’s for a reason. He’s opening up to you, the way you’ve opened up to him. He’s sharing his heartbreaking loss because he trusts you—and Joel Miller doesn’t trust anyone that’s not his family.
Draping an arm around his shoulders, your fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck as you anxiously wait for him to recount the event that follows next, the event that will surely shatter your heart into pieces.
“The streets were crawlin’ with infected. One caught us in its sights and chased after us. Tried to dodge it through a buildin’ but it followed us, runnin’ us out into a field just a mile from the river. I didn’t think we were gonna make it—then, a soldier came outta nowhere and shot it dead. It felt like some kinda fuckin’ miracle. I thought we were lucky. I thought we were gonna get some help.” His voice grows hoarse, thickening with emotions he’s not too sure he can hold back this time. “I couldn’t have been more wrong. He was given the order by his command to kill us both, even though we weren’t sick. I tried tellin’ him over and over we weren’t infected, but it didn’t matter. He shot at us. He grazed me in my side, but Sarah—he got her. Got her multiple times. I was foolish enough to think it hadn’t been fatal. I tried gettin’ her up, begged Tommy to help me—but it was useless. Sarah died in my arms. Took her very last breath in some field outside of Austin.”
“God,” you whisper shakily, a sharp, painful ache shooting through your chest at the thought of him cradling his daughter’s lifeless body in his arms, her purple shirt soaked in crimson. “Joel, I don’t—I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.” Willing yourself to keep it together for his sake, you hold the back of his neck in your hand, fingers coaxing him to look up and meet your gaze.
“After that, I just didn’t see any point in carryin’ on anymore. I’d lost the most important thing in the fuckin’ world to me. I couldn’t see in the darkness now that my little ray of sunshine was gone. So, a couple nights later, I picked up my gun and tried to end my own life,” he confesses. Even though it’s been over twenty years, traces of shame still linger behind. “Put the barrel of a pistol to my temple. Told myself it was what I wanted to do and I pulled the trigger.”
Without thinking, you reach towards the scar on his right temple with your opposite hand, the one you’d noticed for the first time before he had kissed you in Ranger’s stall. You lightly brush your fingertips over the jagged, raised patch of skin. You’d wanted to ask him about it on several different occasions, but never had the courage to actually do it. Now that you know he’d gotten it from his own hand, it just makes the entire thing all that much more heart wrenching.
“M’sure you’ve guessed it by now, but I missed. I flinched and I missed. For twenty fuckin’ years, all I could do was wish I hadn’t missed. Spent a long time hatin’ myself for missin’ what should’ve been the easiest goddamn shot of my entire life. Then, Ellie came along.” Joel moves his hand, gingerly taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. “And not long after her, I met you, sweet girl. The two of you came at me outta nowhere.” He can’t help but chuckle, remembering his first encounter with Ellie, the way she had flown at him with her switchblade clutched in hand only to end up thrown against the wall. “You both came outta left fuckin’ field and brought out sides of me I thought had been dead and buried for years now. You and her, you mean more to me than I can fuckin’ explain. You’re the most important things in the world to me now.”
Your breath catches in the back of your throat at his declaration. It’s not like you didn’t know Joel cared about you—of course you do. But the extent to which he did had been something of a mystery, at least up until this very moment.
“I didn’t know I could feel this way ‘bout anyone again,” Joel admits. He slides his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “Openin’ up my heart to Ellie, that was one thing—but openin’ it up to you has been somethin’ else, peach. I don’t think you even realize the hold you’ve got over me and my heart. What really fuckin’ gets me is that you don’t even gotta try. All you gotta do is look at me with those eyes and give me that pretty smile of yours and I’m fuckin’ done for. You’ve got me wrapped all the way around your little finger and then back again, baby. Y’need to know that I’d do just ‘bout fuckin’ anythin’ for you. You understand that?”
You stare at him like a deer caught in headlights.
“Joel,” you stammer his name, your nerve endings feeling like they’ve been lit on fire. “You really need to stop talking like that.”
“Why’s that?”
You don’t even think—you just blurt the words out before you can stop them.
“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”
The tables turn and it’s now Joel who is at a complete loss for words.
Embarrassed by your own admission, you begin to ramble nervously. “Look, I know it’s ridiculous. We haven’t known each other long, but I can’t help it. And maybe it’s for the best if you know where I stand and how I feel. You still have time to back out of this—”
Still holding your chin, Joel carefully brings your face toward his, silencing you by slotting his lips to yours. He moves to cup the side of your face in his palm, forgetting about any kind of softness as he greedily licks into your mouth. He’s kissed you plenty of times before and you thought you knew all of his kisses well enough by now, but you’d been wrong. This one is different from all the rest. His lips move against yours in a possessive manner, but not the kind of possessive you’re used with Luke. No, with Joel, it isn’t a possessive stemming from control and abuse, rather, it’s out of pure need, want, and desire. Even as his mouth devours yours, there’s still a sweet, loving tenderness to it.
“Joel,” you whimper against him. “I—”
You falter, unable to say those three words. There’s something holding you back—maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s knowing that once you say them, you can’t take them back. Not that you would. But it’s a big step, and you’re not quite ready to say it, even if it is how you feel.
And he feels the same.
He deepens the embrace.
I love you.
Joel might not be ready to say it either, but he hopes the way he’s holding you and swelling your lips with his puts your mind at ease and reassures you that you’re not the only one who’s falling.
You shift yourself in his lap, moving to straddle him, your legs on either side of his thighs as your mouths remain fused to one another. He reaches and grabs for every single part of you that he can, running his hands all over you from your shoulders down to your hips, dragging lower until they’re unabashedly cupping the delicious curves of your ass. You whimper in his mouth again and the moment your lips part, his tongue takes advantage, darting inside to start the heated, unhinged dance with your own.
You clutch at his shoulders, your fingers curling around tight around fistfuls of his t-shirt in an attempt, and a very desperate one at that, to keep yourself planted on the ground. You hold on trying to keep yourself tethered to planet earth, but with the way his searing hot mouth moves with yours in perfect unison, it’s impossible. You’re free falling without a safety net, and you don’t even care. 
Seating yourself completely on his lap, you feel the bulge of his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans and the wetness pools between your thighs.
Letting go of his shirt, you reach around him and bury your fingers in his curls, lightly tipping his head back as your tongue explores his mouth like it’s the first time all over again. Joel tastes like the sweet fruit you’d shared, a strange mix when combined with the mint from his toothpaste. But there’s something else he tastes like and you’ve tasted it several times before, however even after all this time, you still can’t figure out what it could be. It tastes like Joel. That’s the only way you can think of to describe it. It just tastes like Joel and it’s addicting and you want it on your lips for the rest of your life.
After a minute, you and Joel finally force yourselves apart, your lungs and his begging for oxygen. 
“Joel,” you choke his name between heavy pants for air.
“Baby.” He’s about as breathless as you are, possibly even more. “Baby, please. I’ve gotta have you,” he pleads, hands now splayed on the small of your back. “Please. I fuckin’ need you. Or else m’gonna lose my goddamn fuckin’ mind.”
“Barn,” you rasp out, releasing your grip on his hair. 
Confused, Joel’s eyebrows knit together. “Barn?”
“Barn,” you repeat as you climb off of him.
You’re unsteady—incredibly unsteady. Knees wobbling, legs trembling and feeling like they’re seconds away from giving out underneath you. But you hold a hand out to Joel, exhaling a tiny, labored grunt as you help him up off the ground. Grabbing his blanket, you give it a shake before taking his hand in yours and leading him around to the front of the barn. Dropping his hand, you use both of yours to slide one of the double doors open an inch or two and take a peek inside to make sure the coast is clear. You then slide the door open a bit further, just wide enough for you and Joel to slip inside. 
“Wait a minute,” he chuckles as he watches you slide the door closed. “How’d y’know it would be unlocked?”
“I didn’t know it would be unlocked. I was just hoping we’d get lucky,” you admit, beckoning him for him to follow you. “Come on.”
Through various cracks and gaps and open windows, enough moonlight filters into the barn, shining a decent amount of light into the structure—enough so that it’s not pitch black and you two are left stumbling around in complete darkness.
Joel glances around. The last time he’d been inside the barn was back in June for the summer party. He remembered it having been cleaned and cleared out for the event and now, two months later, it’s packed to the rafters with countless bales of hay. In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised. But as he walks, piles of loose dried grass and herbs crunch underneath his boots and he remarks, “There is fuckin’ hay everywhere, darlin’.”
“Um, yeah. What else do you keep in a burn?” you jeer lightly, earning yourself a small scoff from him. “Hey, at least they don’t keep sheep and other livestock in here, Joel. Besides, beggars can’t be choosers, right?”
Joel snorts, masking his laughter at the thought of walking into a barn full of animals instead of an absurd amount of hay. “Yeah, guess that’s fair enough,” he concedes. “Might kill the mood if that were the case.”
You lead him over towards one of the far corners of the barn, your eyes falling to a large, almost bed sized pile of loose hay. Draping the blanket over it, you stand upright and then freeze, your body flooding with nerves once you realize what’s inevitably about to happen between you and Joel.
You hadn’t done anything with him since the night he’d pleasured you out on his front porch. Of course you wanted more, so much more, but that doesn’t make you any less nervous. You’re so much younger, hardly have any experience—you’ve only ever been with one man, and even then, it hardly counts. It’s been such a long time since you’d found sex something you wanted, something you enjoyed. Whenever Luke touches you, it makes your skin crawl, but when Joel Miller touches you?
It sets you ablaze, leaves you needing more of it. Of him.
Part of you wonders if your touch makes him feel the same.
What if it doesn’t?
His arms wrap around your waist from behind and you exhale the shaky breath you’d been holding.
“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Joel murmurs softly into your hair, sensing your pensiveness. 
“I’m just really nervous,” you blurt out.
“S’okay,” he says, quietly. “M’kinda nervous too.”
You’re slightly taken aback. “Really? What are you nervous about?”
Joel rests his chin on your shoulder. “We’ve both crossed a lot of lines already, peach. But this one? S’gonna be the one we can’t come back from,” he tells you. “Might be what seals the deal between us, y’know?”
Slowly, you turn around to face him. “Yeah, I know,” you respond, peeking up at him through the thickness of your eyelashes. “And I know I should care, but I don’t. It’s wrong, isn’t it?”
“S’wrong,” he agrees with a tight nod. “But I don’t care either, sweet girl.”
Before you can utter another word about it, Joel crashes his mouth onto yours. He snakes one of his arms around you and lifts the other, cupping the back of your neck as he ravages you with his lips and tongue, kissing you with such urgency, such desperation that it melts you into a whimpering mess in his arms. Your mind is hopelessly lost in a thick, cloudy haze—all you can focus on is breathing him into your lungs like he’s the air you need to stay alive. His hands fall down to the hem of your white camisole and his mouth abandons yours to pull it over your head. He discards it, tossing it over his shoulder somewhere behind him. He then pushes your shorts and underwear down your legs and you kick them off along with your shoes. You’re now standing before him completely naked. Desperate to feel his skin against yours, you take the hem of his t-shirt and clumsily tug it over his head, eliciting a laugh from him. You throw it somewhere over his shoulder to join yours and your hands eagerly meet his warm, bare chest for the first time. Biting down on your bottom lip, your trembling fingertips brush over several bumps and rough, raised patches of skin that you know have to be his scars. He has so many, and all you want to do is kiss each and every single one of them, but Joel has other ideas. He pulls you into his arms, flush against his chest, and he holds you tightly.
More often than not, Joel feels as if you’re not real—worries that you’re just a perfect, flawless figment of his own imagination. He doesn’t know whether or not you’ve caught onto what he’s been doing, but he steals moments like these whenever he can, moments where he stands there and takes you into his arms and holds you without saying a word. It’s his own way of reminding himself that not only are you real, but you’re real and you’re his. Joel doesn’t care about the fucking ring on your finger. He doesn’t care that you’re promised to another man. He doesn’t care that he can only hold you in secret, that he can’t walk next you down the streets of Jackson in broad daylight and hold your hand while doing so. He doesn’t get to share a roof or a bed with you and he doesn’t get to join you for dinner at the table every night—maybe this isn’t how he preferred things to be, but he just doesn’t care. 
It doesn’t matter to him.
Nothing matters to him except for one thing.
Your heart belongs to him, it bleeds with his name.
You’re his. You’re all fucking his, and only his, in all the ways that truly matter.
And he is yours. 
Joel chokes out a strained groan as you press your plush lips softly against his neck, your tongue swiping across his pulse point. You firmly suckle his flesh, hard enough to break the tiny blood vessels underneath his skin and once you’ve left your mark, you trail your lips down his neck, eliciting another strangled noise from him. You sweep them over his collarbone, then down the length of his chest, showing each scar you come across with the affection it deserves. Your teeth nip and scrape at the softness of his belly and you quickly discover that it’s one of your favorite parts of him. Lowering yourself to your knees, your nose skims over the trail of hair below his navel and your fingers suggestively skim the waistband of his jeans.
His eyes widen. “You ain’t gotta do that—”
“I already told you, Joel. I want to,” you assure him, your voice low, sexy, filled with a lust for him and only for him. You make yourself comfortable, a challenging feat since you’d overshot the blanket and are now kneeling directly on the itchy, dried grass. It doesn’t matter, though—you’re more than willing to deal with discomfort for him. You place a hand on his hip and peer up at him. Your eyes meet his in the milky white moonlight. “You made me feel good. Please, just let me do the same for you?”
The nod he gives you is so subtle, so quick, that you almost don’t catch it.
He’d grown tense beneath your touch. 
You can’t help but laugh softly—not at him, but at the fact that he doesn’t realize that pleasuring him isn’t a want for you, it’s a need.
Gently, you pat his hip. “Relax, honey,” you encourage him, surprised at how the pet name rolls off your tongue with such natural ease.
Your hands reach for the button of his jeans and you swiftly undo it, then tug at his zipper. You start pulling the denim down his legs. Joel helps you, kicking off his worn, black leather boots before stepping out of his jeans, kicking the article of clothing off to the side. Heart racing in anticipation, you slide his dark boxer briefs down his legs, but stop short, breath hitching the second you feast your eyes on his cock. You’ve felt him through his clothes before, knew he was well endowed, but you’re still shocked to see just how big he really is. The mere thought of his hard, thick length filling you up and stretching your cunt makes your entire body ache with need. You can’t be certain how he’ll fit, but truth be told, he could tear you in half and you would thank him for it. 
Joel draws in a quick, sharp breath when he feels your small hand wrap around his base. Just as fast as he’d breathed it in, it’s knocked back out of his lungs when your other hand joins in and you run your fingertips along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock. He twitches in your hands—you’ve hardly touched him, haven’t even put your mouth on him, and he’s already teetering on the edge.
“Christ, baby. You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, I hope y’know that,” Joel croaks, tilting his head back to look up at the rafters as he silently wills himself not to explode too soon. His hips involuntarily jerk forward as you lick his tip, collecting his leaking precum on your tongue before wrapping your soft lips around it. Another loud, ragged groan tears from the back of his throat as you take him in slowly, inch by inch, further into your warm, wet mouth. Your own moaning around him causes a vibrating sensation, making it harder for Joel to keep himself from spilling into your mouth.
“Fuck, peach,” he curses, feeling the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. He’s more than a mouthful for you, but you accept the challenge with eagerness and take him in further, gagging around him as drool dribbles down the sides of your chin. You, the same woman who just moments ago had said she was nervous about being intimate with him—whoever that woman had been, she was long fucking gone.
Joel’s eyes flit down and he sinks his teeth hard into his lower lip. He can see your silhouette as you work him with that pretty little mouth of yours—one glance is all he can handle before he’s squeezing his eyes shut, the pressure building in his lower abdomen and already dangerously close to reaching its peak. If Joel so much as looks at you again, he’ll come down your throat—and that’s not where he’s planning on finishing tonight.
You bob your head back and forth on his cock, your eyes watering each time he slips past the back of your throat—your cheeks hollow as you suck him greedily and you alternate between that and stroking his long, thick shaft, your tongue swirling around his head.
Without opening his eyes, Joel reaches down with his hand and cradles the back of your head in his palm. The sounds that fill the barn are nothing short of obscene. His grunts and groans mixed together with the sounds of the moans you’d release in between your wet and sloppy slurping. He forces his eyes open and bravely takes another look at you, his heart slamming painfully against his sternum as you move your head faster, chasing his release as if you’re chasing your own.
“Fuck, baby—wait, stop. Need you to stop.” Joel’s hand leaves the back of your head and he cups your jaw, gently, but firmly, forcing you to release his cock from your mouth with an audible pop. “Ain’t gonna last much longer, not if you keep on like that.”
“Isn’t that the whole point?” you ask, smirking up at him as you wipe the mixture of his precum and your saliva away from your chin with the back of your hand.
Joel leans over and takes your arms, effortlessly yanking you up to your feet. His hand dives between your thighs to get a feel—to find whether you’re ready to take him or not. He slips two fingers between your soaked folds without so much as a warning, causing you to gasp out and grip his biceps, your fingernails digging into the firm muscle. Joel withdraws his hand from your cunt, admiring the way his digits come back coated with your slick. He looks at you, his eyes locking with yours as he lifts his hand to his mouth and slowly licks his fingers clean.
That alone nearly makes you come undone, almost makes you melt into a pathetic, whimpering mess at his feet. 
“Joel,” you say his name pleadingly. “Please.”
Sliding his fingers out of his mouth, he steps forwards and curls them around your wrist. “What is it, my sweet little peach? Hm? What do you want?”
“You. I want you,” you answer. You’re quick to correct yourself. “No, I need you. I fucking need you—I need you more than anything I’ve ever needed in my life, Joel.”
Leaning down, Joel skims the tip of his nose against your cheek before bringing it down along your jawline. “Where, darlin’?” he whispers huskily, sending a shiver up your spine. “Where do you need me, baby?”
Your mouth falls open slightly unable to say it. You don’t know why you’re suddenly shy, flustered as if you just hadn’t been down on your knees gagging around his cock.
“Tell me, peach,” he coaxes you gently with another low whisper. “Tell me where you need me. Tell me where you need my cock, sweetheart. Need to hear you say it.”
“Inside me.” Blazing heat floods your face. “I need you inside of me—I need you to fuck me. Please, Joel.”
“So polite ‘bout it, too,” he remarks. “What a good girl.”
Though he says it in a teasing manner, his praise nearly makes you collapse.
“You like that,” he realizes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Yeah, baby? Y’like it when I call you a good girl?”
“Fuck, I—yes, I do,” you confess.
“C’mere.” Joel wraps an arm around your waist, hand splayed over your back as he lowers you down onto the blanket. He follows suit. You both let out breathy laughs at the way your naked bodies sink down into the pile of hay. Propping himself up with his arm, Joel looks down at you, his smile fading as a serious expression crosses his features. He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, finger grazing the silkiness of your cheek. “Y’sure ‘bout this, peach? Ain’t too late to stop.”
Smiling softly, you lift a hand to the side of his face, your fingers stroking his graying beard. “I’ve never been so sure about anything, Joel,” you promise him. “If you could take a peek into my mind, you would see how bad I want this, how bad I need this—how bad I need you. I don’t want to stop.” And you don’t just mean the sex. You don’t any of this to stop—the secret, late night meetings, the stolen kisses, the illicit affair. “I’m sure about this. I’m sure about you, Joel.”
That’s all he needs to hear.
Joel reaches down between your bodies, gripping his base, pumping his throbbing cock in his fist before lining himself up at your sopping entrance. Adrenaline courses through your veins—every nerve ending in your body is going up in flames. You spread your legs wider for him, hoping he’ll understand the nonverbal cue. He does. He begins to ease himself into your cunt and you hook a leg around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper. The barn fills with the sound of his grunt and your loud cry at the initial stretch. He sinks his cock further into you until he bottoms out and you cry out again, feeling a delicious burning sensation as he cradles his hips between your thighs.
“M’gonna need you to relax a little sweetheart,” he whispers gently, ceasing his movements to give your body a chance to adjust to him. Joel takes advantage of having you pinned underneath him with your head thrown back and his lips latch onto your neck, hungrily. He fervently kisses his way down the column of your throat, nips his way to your collarbone—but unlike you, he’s careful to do so without leaving any kind of mark behind. He would give anything to have the freedom to leave traces of his loving all over you. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment and the way he’s buried inside you to the hilt that brings out the primal in him, but Joel wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around Jackson covered in his love bites. He wants everyone to know he’s the one who’d left them behind, needs them to understand that you’re his. But that isn’t possible. Joel lifts his head from the hollow of your neck and nibbles lightly at your chin. “You alright, baby?”
Forcing your eyes open, you lift your head and bring yourself to look at him. At first, you feel discomfort, but after a minute, your body finally relaxes around him and it subsides. It’s replaced with the burning desire to feel more of him. The pretty glow coming in from outside the barn illuminates his face and you smile. “I’m better than alright. I’m perfect,” you assure him. You place a hand delicately on his chest, feeling his heart thrum hard against your fingertips. “This is perfect.”
Joel kisses the tip of your nose. He slides out of you slowly, then right back into you in an experimental thrust that brings your body off the blanket, your back arching in sheer pleasure. It’s such a deliciously tight fit, and he almost can’t believe how fucking good it feels to be sheathed in your taut heat. He drops his head, taking your breast into his mouth, tongue swirling around your hardened nipple as he bucks his hips once more. He’s being careful. Too careful.
“Joel—I need you to move,” you gasp. You drag a hand down his chest and over his soft stomach, letting your fingernails rake lightly over his flushed skin. It’s warm to the touch, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Joel, please. Fuck me.”
Thankfully, you don’t have to tell him twice.
Joel releases the pebbled flesh from his mouth with a loud, lewd pop. He pulls his cock out of your dribbling pussy, then slams back into you with such force that he places a hand on the crown of your head, keeping you in place underneath him on the blanket. You wrap your own leg around him, locking your ankles together, your heels digging into the firm curve of his ass. You lift your hips just as he rolls his own right into them. The new angle gives Joel the opportunity to fuck you even deeper and he hits the sensitive, spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hold onto him, moans you’ve never heard come out of your own mouth before ringing in your ears and in his. He starts picking up his pace.
“Baby.” He’s breathless and speaks between every snap of his hips. “Fuck, y’feel s’good—s’tight around me—”
“Don’t stop, Joel. God, please don’t fucking stop,” you plead him, your finger burying themselves in his hair. “Keep going, just like that—fuck, you feel so fucking good inside me—”
You bite down on your bottom lip, adoring how Joel squeezes his dark eyes shut each and every single time the head of his cock brushes that one particularly deep spot inside of you. Knowing that you and your body has this kind of an effect on him, it gives you a boost of confidence. You’ve spent the last couple of years allowing a pathetic excuse of a man—if one could even call him that—pick on you, say things about your body and make you feel like your inability to conceive a child made you defective. Worthless, even. And here’s a real man, one who makes you feel beautiful with the way he talks to you, the way he kisses you, touches you, and fucks you. You’re not perfect by any means, but Joel Miller makes you feel what your own husband doesn’t.
He makes you feel like you’re enough. More than enough.
The barn fills with a combination of moaning, panting, and the sound of damp skin slapping against damp skin.
Glancing down at you, Joel shakes his head and warns, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, baby. M’so goddamn close.”
An unexpected wave of courage washes over you. Planting your hands firmly on his chest, you take him by complete surprise and slide out from underneath him. A small grunt escapes him as you push him onto his back. Amused, you can’t help but giggle at the shocked expression on his face as you guide him to lie down on the flannel blanket. Eager to see his reaction, you keep your eyes trained on his face as you straddle his lap. You grip the base of his cock in your hand and then slowly sink down onto him, your cunt greedily squeezing him as you slide down until you’re fully seated.
Joel’s jaw falls slack. It’s the most stunning sight he’s ever seen.
You, completely naked on top of him, your pouty lips plump and swollen from his kisses. Your smooth, supple skin glows in the moonlight shining through the open window behind you. All while every inch of Joel’s cock was buried deep inside of you, head nudging at your cervix. Eyes glimmering devilishly, the sexiest little smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Like what you see?”
He tries to speak, but he can’t.
You’ve rendered him speechless. 
Grabbing his hands in yours, you guide them to your hips. His blood roars in his ears and his fingers dig into the pillowy soft flesh, holding on as you begin to rock them back and forth. You throw your head back, your hair spilling over your shoulder. The friction of your clit against his pelvis heightens your pleasure. Joel had thought he would be the one to topple over the edge first, but he’d been wrong.
Eyes pinching shut, you start bouncing yourself on his cock, your desperation mounting. You feel the tension between your hips coiling back tightly, ready to snap forward.
“Fuck, Joel—I’m gonna—I’m so fucking close.”
“Yeah, that’s it. Fuckin’ come for me, baby,” Joel encourages you, his fingers digging even harder into your hips. One of his hands abandons your side and he reaches up and gently takes your slackened jaw in the palm of his hand. He coaxes you to look down at him. “Need you to be a good girl and look at me, peach,” he instructs you, slipping his thumb between your parted lips. “Need to see that pretty face of yours when you come all over my cock, sweetheart.”
“Oh fuck—fuckfuckfuck!”
Crying out, you unravel and fall apart all over him, the ecstasy blurring the edges of your vision. 
It doesn’t take Joel much longer to follow. He lets out a low, guttural growl, choking out a string of profanities as he slams you down onto his lap, spurts of warm cum coating your velvet walls. Your pussy squeezes him, draining him of every last drop.
You collapse forward onto him in a sweaty, whimpering mess and he wraps his arms around you. With him still inside you, you both lay there and try to catch your breaths as the high slowly but surely begins to wear off.
After a few minutes, Joel pulls out of you and he shifts your bodies, moving you so you’re now laying beside him. Tucking you against his side, he slides his arm around your shoulders and pulls you even closer. His other hand finds one of yours and he takes it, bringing them both to rest on his chest.
“You alright?” he asks you, lacing his fingers together with yours.
“I’m great,” you answer him tiredly, prompting him to chuckle. “What about you?”
Joel strokes at your hair. “Never been better, sweet girl.”
You groan. “Joel, don’t do that,” you mumble into his shoulder. “You’re going to put me right to sleep.”
He laughs again. “We’ve still got a bit more time, y’know. If you’re tired, you can take a quick nap. I can wake you up in ‘bout an hour when it’s time to head home.”
“No, that’s okay,” you decline the offer, worried he would accidentally fall asleep too. “I really wish we could sleep together—I mean, actually sleep together. In an actual bed. Not having to worry about anything. Just like normal couples do.”
“Well, we ain’t exactly a normal couple, darlin’.”
“No, we’re definitely not,” you murmur. You don’t even realize how sad you’d sounded until you feel Joel give your shoulders a comforting squeeze. 
Neither of you say anything else about it as you spend the next hour laying there, tangled up in each other’s embrace, waiting until it was time to go your separate ways.
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lyrics: Butterflies - Kacey Musgraves
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pedropascallme · 11 months
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I’ll Always Come Back
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader; no use of y/n
Summary: “The bed in the house you shared wasn’t all that large, but without Joel in it you felt completely dwarfed. It was like the mattress was swallowing you whole without Joel to anchor you to his broad shoulders and wide chest.”
Warnings: Smut (18+ MINORS DNI), dom/sub dynamics (dom!Joel x sub!Reader), fingering, oral (M & F receiving), p in v sex, praise kink, daddy kink. If I missed anything please let me know!
~~~
Summer in Jackson was a mixed bag. On the one hand, the warm weather made it much more encouraging to tend to your day-to-day activities; you could clean up around the house, sing along to the radio Joel had fixed up while you rearranged the cabin you had been gifted. You could go out and mingle without the need to put on layers and layers of clothing. And the plants—God, the plants! Things were growing, summer meant fresh greens and tending to your little plot of garden.
On the other hand, summer in Jackson meant extended patrols; the warm weather encouraged raiders to branch out further, to attempt riskier and riskier maneuvers. You never felt scared, why should stuff like that scare you after everything you had been through with Joel and Ellie? But what did get to you was the fact that Joel’s patrols were getting longer as the warm June days arrived.
Ultimately, things weren’t much different. You and Ellie and Joel still had time together and time apart, but it drove you nearly insane when you had to get into bed without him, wake up without him. The bed in the house you shared wasn’t all that large, but without Joel in it you felt completely dwarfed. It was like the mattress was swallowing you whole without Joel to anchor you to his broad shoulders and wide chest.  
Today had consisted of next to nothing. Ellie had shouted at you while you were still half asleep, saying something along the lines of “Dina” and “movie night” and “back tomorrow, maybe!” You had offered a lazy “mmff” in response. And then you heard the door slam. You tried your best to spend the day doing something—anything—productive. Go for a walk, clean the kitchen, weed the garden. In the end, though, you had found yourself letting yet another day slip by completely wasted. Maybe not completely: You had found the copy of The Catcher in the Rye that you had picked up somewhere along your journey with Joel and Ellie.
You remembered how much you had loved the cover when you first read the book—you must’ve been 14 or 15, if even. The red carousel horse that looked so…messy and unhinged. That might’ve been what initially drew you to the book in the first place, not to judge a book by its cover or anything, but it just looked so promising. When you reread it, you found yourself comparing Holden Caulfield to one Joel Miller; the character’s intensity, his need to isolate himself in order to protect himself and everybody else, his crippling losses. It was all Joel. So maybe, in the back of your mind, you had really just started skimming through it today to remind yourself of the growth you had seen Joel go through in your time together. He was so closed off, so hesitant when you had first joined him and Ellie. Of course, the biggest difference between the real life and the literary was Joel’s ability to grow, to open up and remember how to feel; Holden never really got that sort of closure.
After hours and hours of reading and reminiscing, the sun had finally started to go down. You prepared yourself for another night alone in the house. You were happy Ellie had the ability to go out and spend her time with people she loved, but when Joel was out for so long, you couldn’t help but feel jealous. Jealous and lonely. But you were a big girl, and you could handle it. Even if you hated it. You changed out of your denim shorts and took off the tank top that was now fairly sweaty, opting to sleep naked. Might as well if nobody is going to see you, anyway. You curled up under the bedsheet, not bothering to sleep under the comforter, it was entirely too hot for that. You fell asleep far quicker than anticipated.
You woke with a start when you felt a hand wrap around your midriff, a voice in your ear drawling “g’night, darlin’.” Dazed, you turned yourself over to face the direction of the voice.
Joel was home.
Nothing could’ve snapped you out of your groggy state faster than the excitement of seeing him again after so long. Really, it hadn’t been long at all, but it was always such a relief having him back next to you. You clung to him, reacquainting yourself with his smell and the feel of him. Just as quickly, though, you pushed yourself up and off of him.
“You’re dirty.”
“Missed you too, sweetheart.” He pulled you back down to him, caging you in with his arms. “Don’t’cha like dirty, baby?” He laughed while you tried to wriggle yourself out of his hold.
“Like it when it’s how you’re acting, not when you’re literally caked in dirt.” You faked outrage, hitting his chest softly.
“C’mon, know you like seein’ me this way.”
And he was right, obviously. You loved seeing his hair pushed back with sweat, feeling his calloused hands against your bare back, tracing his collarbones and feeling the gravelly remnants of dirt.
“You had a good patrol, then?” You asked, finally letting yourself fall atop him, truly not caring about the dirt and sweat.
“It was alright. Uneventful. Fuckin’ hot out there, though.”
“Maybe it’s time to start wearing shorts, cowboy.”
“Yeah, that’s what everybody wants to see. My old man knees shinin’ out in the sun.”
You giggled. He traced his hands down your naked body, letting himself feel every dimple and curve.
“You got th’right idea. Nothin’ like comin’ in from the heat to see my baby stripped down for me. Should probably start doin’ the same whenever I can.” He squeezed your ass roughly, forcing a moan from your lips.
“C-can’t just walk around the commune naked, Joel. At least put some rips in your pants.”
“Mm, why walk around the commune in jeans when I could strip down with you at home, darlin’?” He delivered a smack to your ass, making you gasp. “Could just stay here all day ‘nd play with you. Make me sweat, keep me cool.” He quirked an eyebrow, tongue wetting his bottom lip before he brought your face to his with both his hands.
He tasted perfect, like the cigarettes he and Tommy swore they weren’t smoking, like whiskey, like mint, like black coffee. He licked at your bottom lip, encouraging you to open your mouth and let his tongue in. You felt him sweep the inside of your mouth, spit mingling and teeth clacking together as the kiss intensified. Without separating himself from you, Joel sat up, grabbing you by the hair and biting your bottom lip.
“Gonna be good f’me?” He still had you by the hair as he started to undo his belt. “Gonna show daddy what you missed so much while I was gone?”
“Wanna show you, please Joel.”
He pulled your hair tighter into his fist, and you let out a high pitched sound.
“You can do better than that, baby. Try again.”
“Please daddy, I wanna show you what I missed!”
“Atta girl.”
He pulled his belt from the loops on his jeans in one swift motion, undoing his button and fly just as fast. You could see the bulge that had grown in his jeans, and your mouth watered at the sight.
“You wanna be good?” Joel pulled your head back so that you were looking into his eyes. “You gotta work for what you want, baby. You know that.” He laughed when your hands flew to his crotch, shoving the denim down his hips and doing the same to the boxers he was wearing. You took his hard length in your hands; no matter how long you had been together, no matter how many times he let you have it, you were consistently amazed by how big he was. He was long, thick, heavy in your hands, and it just spurred you on further to show him how good you could be.
“Spit.” He still had a fist in your hair, and he held you above the tip of his cock. You did as you were told, letting your spit drip from his tip, down his shaft. He made you repeat the action once more before letting you move your hands.
“Good girl, jerkin’ daddy off so good.” He groaned when you dropped a hand to his balls, your other hand working his full length. His back arched slightly when you gave his balls a squeeze, moving your hand to focus on the head of his cock. He released you from his grip.
“Open your mouth, baby, give your daddy a show, huh?” You jumped at the chance, shuffling down his body and lowering your face between his hips. You kept one hand working up and down his shaft and took as much as you could in your mouth, flicking your tongue against his most sensitive spots.
“Fuck, good girl. Gonna make me cum if you keep going like that. Fuck!” You took his rambling as an opportunity to take as much of him as you could down your throat. Suddenly, his hand was back in your hair, pulling you off of him. A string of your saliva kept you connected to his cock, dripping from your puffy lips.
Joel brought your face back up to his, catching you in a heated kiss. You felt him bite your bottom lip, your own tongue tasting the inside of his mouth. He broke away for just long enough to flip you onto your back. He stood over you, pulling his jeans off completely and staring down at you hungrily.
“Y’out here sayin’ you don’t like dirty. You got such a mouth on you, baby, y’know it’s not good to go ‘round lyin’.” He pulled you towards him by your ankles, letting your legs fall over the edge of the bed before he kneeled in front of you and hiked them up on his shoulders. “See how I know you were lyin’?” He wasted no time showing you, pushing a thick finger into your cunt. “Drippin’ baby, fuckin’ soaked. S’all for daddy, isn’t it, sweetheart?” You moaned at the sudden intrusion. Just one of Joel’s fingers was enough to make you lose control completely. He twisted it inside you, pumping in and out slowly.
“Tell me it’s for daddy.”
“I—it’s all for, it’s all f—for daddy!” You gasped when you felt another one of his fingers exploring your slit, using your wet to force itself in beside his other finger.
“S’what I thought.” He curled his fingers, bringing his mouth down to your clit and sucking hard. You let out a scream of his name. He only sucked harder, letting the bundle of nerves go with a pop.
“Cum on my fingers, baby. C’mon now, give it to me.” You felt his fingers, still curled, start rubbing against the spongy spot inside of you. Your walls began to clench around his fingers, his mouth once again finding a pace on your clit. You came around his fingers with a jumbled mixture of gasps and screams, barely registering how he talked you through it.
“Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it. Yeah, show daddy what a good girl you are.” Joel placed another kiss on your clit, slowly slipping his fingers out of you. Though your mind was still foggy from the orgasm he had just given you, you whined at the sudden emptiness. When he stood above you again, you reached your arms up for him. He smiled down at you, bending over to kiss your forehead and then your lips.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, not done yet.” He straightened himself out a little, placing a knee on the bed next to you. You reached out to brush your fingers over his thigh. God, he was so muscular. You suppose, for all the walking he did, he should be, but still. Your legs were once again over his shoulders, now above you as he loomed over your naked figure. He took his cock in his hand, stroking himself as he lined himself up with your still dripping slit.
“Daddy’s gonna give you more baby, don’t worry.” You felt the tip of his cock nudge your clit before he lowered himself into your pussy. You both groaned at the contact; the squeeze of your cunt around his thick cock felt like heaven for each of you.
Once fully inside of you, Joel dropped the leg that had bed resting on the bed back to the ground, and pressed his body to yours, chest to chest. He pulled out till just his head was still resting in your pussy, before snapping his hips forward, shoving himself completely back into you, punching the air from your lungs.
“Missed this pussy,” he breathed out shakily, keeping a harsh pace, “missed feelin’ your tight fuckin’ cunt wrap around me like this.”
“Missed you so much, missed daddy’s cock—fuck!” He had your arms above your head now, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples and slowing his strokes slightly, continuing to fuck you deep. You rubbed your hips into his own, desperate for as much friction as you could get. He felt you bucking your hips, laughing at your desperation.
“Poor lil’ baby, such a needy fuckin’ pussy.”
“Dadd—y, need it!”
“Watch your mouth, darlin’, I’m givin’ it to you, ain’t I? Remember who you’re speakin’ to,” he sped up his thrusts, making your tits bounce while you lay back taking it. “Need some fuckin’ manners, baby.”
“I—fuck!—Please daddy, need to cu—m on your cock. Please!” You were begging, he had you exactly where he wanted you. Fucked out and messy, your hair sticking to your forehead and your slick dripping down his cock to your thighs. He loved when you got desperate. Fuck, he had missed you. He had been gone two, maybe three days, and all he could think about was coming home to you. One of his hands came down between your legs, fingers attaching to your clit. You arched your back, moaning, inviting him to touch you where you needed him most. He massaged your bud in tight, neat circles, his fingers moving faster than his thrusts.
He was fucking merciless.
“Can feel that pussy getting’ tighter on me. Y’gonna cum for me again, baby? Gonna cover daddy’s cock in your pretty fuckin’ juices?” His thrusts were beginning to speed up, and within a few more seconds of him fucking you senseless and talking you up (“Good girl, good girl gonna soak daddy’s big cock. That’s right, beautiful, make a fuckin’ mess on me.”) you were cumming hard around him. You grabbed at him, pulling him down onto you while he continued to push his cock deeper into you.
“That’s right, my fuckin’ girl. So good baby, tha’s it.” You scratched your nails down his back, legs shaking as you wrapped them around him. His thrusts became sloppy, nearing his high. You took it upon yourself to gain back a teeny bit of control.
“Cum, daddy, please. Want you to fill me up, want daddy’s cum.” He growled in your ear, fucking into you harder.
“Yeah? Want daddy to full this cunt with my fuckin’ load, baby?”
“Please, yes please,” you begged, still trembling from your own high.
“Gonna give it to you, sweetheart, gonna—shit, gonna fill you up so nice and deep—” He cut himself off with a deep thrust and a loud groan. You felt the warm spurts of his cum deep inside you, moaning at the sensation. He moaned, dropping himself down onto you. You stayed like that for as long as you could; his cock softening inside you, his full body weight pressing you into the springs of the old mattress, your breathing heavy. It was perfect.
“I missed you so much,” Joel panted out, still catching his breath. “M’sorry for comin’ home dirty. ‘Nd late.” He pushed himself up off of you, now mostly-soft cock sliding out of you, turning to lie on his back. You crawled up to him, lying on your side as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You could feel his cum and yours dripping down the curve of your thigh and onto the mattress.
“You know I don’t mind. I know you’re out there keeping us all safe. You’re good at it.” You kissed his jawline. “Plus, means I get to welcome you back like this.” He smiled, letting you continue trailing kisses wherever you could reach.
“Just hate leavin’ you.”
“I know you’ll always come back home to me.”
He looked down at you, still smiling. You’ll never get used to seeing Joel Miller smile, but you’ll always love how he looked doing it. He kissed your forehead, pushing the hair out of your face before taking your chin in his hand and leaning you up to kiss him.
“I’ll always come back.”
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gooselacom · 2 years
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Renville P Napitupulu: Dinas PU Harus Serius Tangani Pengerjaan Fisik Drainase
Renville P Napitupulu: Dinas PU Harus Serius Tangani Pengerjaan Fisik Drainase
Medan, Goosela.com – Kesiapan pembangunan “drainaise” pada TA APBD 2022, dengan anggaran hingga Rp500 Milyard harus ditanggapi dengan serius. Seiring Visi dan Misi dari Walikota Medan Bobby Nasution, yang sangat antusias untuk menyelesaikan masalah banjir di kota Medan . “Kita sangat apresiasi atas kepedulian walikota Medan yang menyiapkan anggaran cukup besar di APBD Tahun 2022 untuk pengerjaan…
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