#ellie writes filth

[teaspoon-full-of-sugar]

tangointhenight

pairing: harry styles x reader (au)

warnings: idiots in love trope, long-distance fwb (sounds weird but it makes sense just give her a read luv), switch!harry and switch!reader, detailed descriptions of female and male masterbation, maladaptive daydreaming during a fanfic, mentions of exhibitionism, edging, one singular ‘daddy’, cum swapping, breeding kink, praise kink and degradation, rope play, spitting, choking, mutual masterbation, overstimulation, use of toys (vibrator mostly), crying after sex (iconic)

word count: 13.3k

synopsis: harry records erotic audios, and y/n is an avid listener

author’s note: hello nasties, here’s another filth fic for ya! this has been a long time in the making, and i am so sorry i have been mia for so long, but i am back for the time being to give you this fic. i have wanted to do something like this for a while now, but it’s been a struggle (lots of blood, sweat, and tears put into this). i’m kinda proud of her to be honest, and i hope you enjoy :)

tags: @victoria-styles

masterlist

—

Y/N finally sinks into her mattress after yet another tiring day. She can hear her roommate on the other side of the wall, chatting with her girlfriend over the phone, blissfully ignorant to the fact that she currently has a hand teasing the band of her sweatpants while the other scrolls aimlessly through her phone.

Exhaustion burns behind her eyes, but there’s a desperate ache in her belly, one that demands satiety. She opens the internet app to find it unchanged from the night before, still lighting up in the profile named tangointhenight. His profile picture is a tantalizing photo of his hand, splayed across his thigh, which are clad in tight, floral printed pants, doing wonders for the very prominent bulge. Pieces of paint linger on his thumbnail, a pretty pale mint color, and his skin, tanned with faint freckles and etches of dark ink, looks tempting in the golden light. At his wrist is a braided twine bracelet with cheap beads that have letters that she can’t make out, which looks old and wilted.

She scrolls down, only lingering for a moment to appreciate the photo one final time.

There are some cute little posts and polls in addition to his erotic audios. The newest one, posted just that afternoon, warns not to listen to this in public with a series of cute little emoticons following. If there’s one thing she’s learned about Tango, that’s what she and other listeners call him, is that he’s a bit of an exhibitionist; his audios tend to lean toward nearly getting caught or even being caught (oftentimes leading to a “helping out” situation). She honestly wasn’t into that sort of thing until he started talking about it, and now, she finds it incredibly sexy, the thrill of the quick high and the fear of being caught in such a vulnerable moment.

She’ll definitely have to give the new audio a listen on one of her morning commute trips to the university; perhaps, she could give it a listen while she waits for her class to start, his deep voice teasing and coaxing her into an aching mess. She hopes that it’ll leave her trembling and throbbing for the rest of the day. She wonders if she’ll be able to make it until night before she has to finish herself off or if she’ll have to sneak off to the restrooms during one of her seven minute breaks, foot propped up on the toilet paper dispenser while she rubs herself to her bitter end.

She scrolls down a bit, passing over audios that vary from pillow talk to a dirty fuck in back alleys, before tapping on the familiar link, purple from use, the description teasingly saying: we’ve been visiting my mum for a week, and I haven’t been able to taste you... I guess we’ll just have to be quiet.

It’s one of the first audios she listened to when she was just discovering this new world of pleasure, so it has a special place in her heart. It’s one of his firsts from nearly a year ago, of fuzzy listening quality and nervous voice, but she finds his ramblings endearing; although, admittedly, she thinks anything he does is cute.

She tucks in her earbuds and presses the play button. Tossing the phone to the side, her eyes flutter closed, visions of white dotting through the darkness as they adjust. There’s a subtle cracking sound that indicates that it has finally loaded, and a fuzzy droning sound filters through the headphones. There’s a fan going in the background; it squeaks and grumbles nearby. A door creaks open, one of those fake sound effects that you can buy, but she appreciates the effort.

“Hey, lovie, feelin’ better?”

His familiar voice floats through her ears. She settles even more into her sheets. His voice is a nice, hot cup of tea at the end of a hard day, a drug that leaves her head foggy and senses dulled. His voice reminds her of sleep: deep, soothing, persistent, yet ever fleeting. She yearns for it, like being able to listen to that one mazing song for the first time again or the feeling of sunshine after the long winter months. His voice is intoxicating, reaching a baritone timbre that she can’t quite put to words.

At first, she wanted to put a face to the man who hummed sweet nothings in her ears, who coaxed her to oblivion for nights on end. Now, she’s at ease with never knowing. It keeps things interesting, and she doesn’t think about it as much anymore.

“If only mum wasn’t home, maybe we could’ve snuck a quick one in the shower,” he says. She smirks, picturing him tucked into his childhood bed, a cozy twin that would be a struggle for the both of them to fit in, and he has his old quilt tucked up to his neck, leaving his bare feet exposed because of how little it is.

There’s a moment of silence, then a cute little laugh.

“I know. You wouldn’t want to sin in her godly home, but she loves you, probably more than me. I don't think she would think any differently of you.”

Another beat of silence, then his voice catches in his throat. Y/N smiles softly as he stutters pitifully, slowly, struggling to find his words.

“N-no, y’know tha's not how I meant it,” he says. “Like, she loves you more than she loves me. Not that I don’t love you as much as she does.” He moves, the rustling of his sheets crackling in her ears. She can hear his hand run over his stubble, nails scratching over short little hairs. She wonders if he usually grows out his facial hair or if he’s the type to keep clean shaven.

“She couldn’t possibly love you more than I do.” The bed creaks as he shifts again. “C’mon, babe, join me. ‘S all nice and warm.”

She herself burrows further into her blankets, knowing full well that she’s probably going to be kicking them off in a few minutes. She turns to her side, blinking her eyes open, trying to immerse herself into the fantasy.

“‘M glad you got time off of work to come here with me. I know you could've been spending time back home, but you came here with me instead.” His voice is closer than before, however whispered. Every accentuated vowel that passes through his lips is like a breath of fresh air, and she hums quietly at the sound.

“I really appreciate it. ‘M glad we got to spend this time together.”

She imagines that he tucks her into his neck, coddling her while his fingers trace over the curves of her face, from the furrow of her brow, down to the apple of her cheeks, before stopping at her lips, lingering only momentarily before his thumb would push just past them.

He chuckles suddenly.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Jus’ lovin’ on my girl.”

His short pecks turn into slow, passionate kisses, deep sighs of relief falling from his lips, and she swears she can almost feel his breath on her skin, nose pressed tight to the pulsepoint in her neck as he sponges his lips over her collarbone, teeth nibbling lightly. She tugs the tee up from where it’s settled at her hips to where the curves of her breasts begin, the material squeezing them tightly to her chest. The sensitive skin aches under the tight pressure. She teases her nipples through her thin bra, feeling the tenderness coax chills down her spine.

“Please,” he whines. “Wanna taste you. You can be quiet. I believe in you, love.”

She could picture him now, chin resting on her stomach, eyes pleading with her. She would flick his head at the patronizing tone before brushing her fingers through his hair. Would he have short tuffs or long tresses that she could run her fingers through after a long day, breaking apart the knots that accumulate throughout the day? Does he have pin straight, dark locks that are cut close to his scalp or sand coloured curls that fall gracefully on his forehead? Perhaps, he has a bit of gray peaking through his hairline to match his wise and weathered voice. She could almost moan at the thought. She has always had a thing for older men.

Tango says something, but she can’t really hear it, his words muffled by her racing heart. She pries her pants down shaky legs, leaving them dangling around her ankle, and her fingers work quickly in massaging her puffy clit, arousal wetting the tender skin. Not one for having much patience, she doesn’t wait for him to finish worshiping her body with his mouth before she is rubbing herself through her panties, feeling the cold wetness on her fingertips. Eyes closed, her head falls back on her pillows, legs tensing when she stops suddenly.

“Pretty thighs,” he mumbles to himself between kisses, and she could almost feel his tender touches on the backs of her thighs, which tremble with anticipation. A wetly placed kiss followed by an appreciative hum signals his final descent to her cunt. The sound of languid licks are nearly enough to make her finish, walls clenching miserably around nothing. Fingers slowing close to a dead stop, barely more than a faint fluttering on her sensitive skin, she attempts to collect herself, but it’s difficult when he moans once again, muffled by his furiously working lips.

“Love your pussy, baby.” She melts at his words, eyes rolling back as waves of pleasure rack through her body, hips stuttering in time with each flick of her wrist. “So warm and wet and jus’ perfect for me.” His voice, low with need, makes her throb, arousal slipping into her panties.

She’s close already, an unfortunate effect he has on her. Barely five minutes into her alone time, and she can feel the orgasm begin to build, like an unyielding inferno spreading through every nerve. The stress from her day, the exhaustion with the world, everything melts into just one prominent feeling threatening to burst from her pores. She has to force herself to stop before she falls over the edge in order to draw out this experience as much as possible. She nearly cries out when she pulls her hand away altogether, her poor, puffy clit throbbing painfully.

This continues for a while, the undulating waves of a blistering release and the torture of a cut off orgasm, until the air becomes thick, her heaving breaths heating her empty room.

“There’s my good girl,” he says. “Use me, lovie. Want you to choke me with your pretty thighs.”

His voice is more firm this time, and she could only picture his baleful eyes staring up at her, eager to please her and guide her over the edge. It makes her wonder what they look like; she wonders if they’re a soulful, deep chocolate that darken with lust, a pale blue that reminds her of warm afternoons, or a striking hazel that flickers with green hues in the light.

No matter the color, she is sure that they’re undoubtedly pretty.

“Please,” she whispers faintly.

“More? You want more, my greedy girl?” She nods pitifully, feeling the orgasm build quickly in her belly before she stops once again, fingers pressing into her throbbing clit. “You want my fingers?”

Her walls flutter fruitlessly for some sort of release, for some sort of stimulation. He moans out sharply.

“Feel so good, babylove,” he coos. “So warm and wet f’me.”

She wants to slip her fingers inside, to tease and massage that tender spot that she can barely reach until she struggles to breathe. She wants to feel full, but she doesn’t want to take care of the mess, and it surely won’t be comfortable sleeping in wet sheets. The wipes hidden alongside her other secret toys, beneath mounds of socks and crumpled underwear, do little to take care of the arousal that has pooled between her legs.

She fishes around her bedside table, fingers raking through bundles of panties to find her vibrator, a cheap little thing she got in a set when she first moved into her apartment. Unfortunately, she ran through the other ones that were in the set, and this is the only one left.

She nestles the vibrator on her swollen clit and ticks it on to the lowest setting. This stimulation is different than before; a vague rumbling rattles her bones, making her lips tremble, with choked cries teetering on her tongue. Obscene wet sounds fill her ears, and for a moment, she wonders whether they are coming from the audio or from her dripping pussy, and her thighs tighten around her wrist. She could only imagine the sight of his hands splayed over her hips and on her belly, perfectly pastel painted nails pressing into her wet skin. The shifting of her mattress worries her for only a moment, but her shame melts away, and she loses herself in the sound of his heavy, stifled groans, as if he is truly choking on her. The addition of the vibrator only serves to tease her more as she inches toward the end, brutally building in slow, abrupt waves. She struggles to swallow her whimpers.

He spits suddenly, and her hips jut forward at the sound, an erotic display of dominance, but he makes it seem like such a tender act; she could just melt.

“Can you take another?”

A beat of silence and a sharp intake of breath, squelching sounds growing louder.

“No? That’s alright, lovie, just two, then,” he coos. Her toes curl up a little at his words, hips rising from the mattress. On any other night, she would have craved more; she would have wanted him to coax her open with him telling her that she can take just one more and that she’s his good girl. It’s sad to be turned on by a man simply respecting her limits, but her clit throbs pitifully and some arousal slips out into her underwear.

“Gonna come for me, babe?” His words are slurred and wet. “Make me proud.”

Chills rushing down her spine, her body curls into itself, eager for her release. She wants to come so badly; she wants to feel the pleasure for days afterward, to tremble around her hand until she can’t take it anymore, to come until she’s seeing stars. She wants to make him proud, but she knows that she can’t come yet, or else she won’t be able to hear him finish. She doesn’t have another orgasm in her tonight, and she wants to prolong this experience as much as possible, even if that means holding out on her orgasm. The world spins behind her tightly screwed eyes as she slows her ministrations, the vibrator ticking back down to nothing. Her body reacts before she can even consider the loss, her hips bucking against the toy, attempting desperately to find that little bit of stimulation she needs to finally reach euphoria.

His lips smack loudly as he presses simulated kisses to skin, pulling her back from her foggy mind.

“So good f’me, pretty,” he says, words muted by skin. “So good. Hmm, I knew you could be quiet.” His kisses are slow and tired, unlike before when they were rushed and eager. His mattress grumbles as he moves once again, taking his time to, presumably, trail up the length of her trembling body until they’re suffocating in each other's embrace.

He sighs behind closed lips, heavy and wanton, and she can picture him working his hips into the mattress to find some sort of release. She would pull him up until he was right between her aching legs and press her lips to his neck, feeling his pulse jump at the contact. She would cup his cock through his thin pair of pajamas, teasingly massaging him until he just couldn't take it anymore, caution flying out of his mind as he is overcome by thoughts of her name, her skin, simply <i>her. Trying to form a coherent thought, he would barely be able to hold himself up. She moans quietly at the thought.

“Babylove, we can’t—” He moans, his deep voice splintering. “I don’ know if I’ll be able to control myself.”

She has listened to this audio enough to know what to say to fill the silent gaps to fulfill the ultimate fantasy.

“Please,” she whispers into the dead air, barely audible over her roommate's voice in the next room. “Wanna feel you.” She wishes he was there for her to whisper in his ear, her fingers running up the plain of his back, feeling the heated skin tense at her words. He would quirk an eyebrow.

“Yeah? Y’wanna feel my big cock in y’tummy, pretty baby?”

“Yes,” she whimpers quietly, suddenly very aware of how much she truly wanted to be filled, to have him so impossibly close to her.

“Y’know I can’t say no to you.” She can hear the smile in his voice. She wonders what it looks like, if he beams with an eye-searing grin, his face splitting with happiness, or if he has a shy little smirk, just barely toying on his lips. She likes to think that he has a beautiful smile, filled with warmth and love. She melts a little, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her limbs to the tips of her fingers.

“Get on top.”

She does, eyes still closed as she sits and kneels on her mattress, one hand still between her legs, trying desperately to catch her poor, swollen clit at just the right angle that will leave her thighs quaking, her stomach clenching. Her underwear, which are still stuck around her knees, stretch and snap as her thighs slip and spread further on the sheets.

He moans sharply, and she can feel her hips unconsciously move, as if to pull that sound from him once again. The low vibrations from her little handheld leave her aching for more, nothing more than a faint rumble, but if she flicked it up to the next highest setting, it would surely be heard through the thin walls. Besides, she loves the teasing nearly as much as she hates it, just pushing to the brink before the rush subsides and settles into a quiet lull. Speechless, she gasps for air as yet another jilted orgasm subsides.

She works her hips slowly, careful of the squeaking of her mattress; there are only so many noises that can be passed off as her simply shifting around in her sleep. Her wrist aches at such an awkward angle, but she continues, the burning euphoria just beyond the horizon. He moans, and she nearly follows him, a crest of a cry nearly bursting from her chest but it comes out as a small whimper. She pushes her earbud deeper into her ear, as if to pull him closer.

“Sorry, jus’ feel so good,” he says sheepishly, and she can tell that he’s biting his lip by the faint lisp in his words. It would be torture for the both of them, to be so close but unable to move any faster or harder to finally reach the deepest, most pleasurable part, just barely scratching the itch for intimacy. He whimpers pitifully, and she thinks she might fall apart at the sound, but her stupid vibrator leaves her teetering back and forth between over the edge. She wiggles her hips to try to get a better angle, but with just a hint of stimulation, it’s a torturously slow build up.

“There it is, pretty,” he says, breaths faltering. “That’s the spot. Make yourself feel good, lovie. Use me.” Her legs ache at the awkward angle, trembling with overexertion. She wishes that she could let go of it, leaving it on the mattress with her pussy and thighs holding it in place, so she can grind on it, unhindered by her own body’s exhaustion, eagerly chasing her high. It would also free her hands to tease her breasts again, pulling and pinching at her hardened nipples.

“Love the way you feel, babylove,” he whispers. “Fuck, so wet f’me.” He curses again and again, as if no other words can properly describe the feeling of her, so soft, so warm, so fucking good. She could only picture him in abridged visions, his undoubtedly pretty lips parted with his pretty whimpers sneaking through, his features pinched in pleasure. Her eyes roll back as her orgasm quickly approaches.

“‘M gonna come,” he says suddenly. “Are you close, too?” She whimpers, arousal slips down her swollen lips and into her furiously working fingers, eager to finish alongside him. “Yeah? Y’gonna come with me? Y’gonna come on my cock, pretty?”

She is so close, so unbelievably close, and she struggles to relax her muscles to hold off for just a little longer.

“So fuckin’ good, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he says sharply. His mattress squeaks now, unable to hold back the sharp jolts of his hips, and he lets go of all inhibitions, moaning freely. She could imagine his hand tracing up her belly, cupping her swinging breasts, and he would suckle on her nipples until her fervent hips faltered. He would brush his hands up the curve of her back, digging into the muscles of her shoulders until she fell forward. Faces nestled together, interlocking like pieces of a puzzle, they would breathe each other in, savoring such a close moment of intimacy. It would feel like a lifetime as they waited with bated breath, using each other to get the most pleasure possible.

She comes when he does, holding her breath to keep the moans from slipping, which makes it all the more euphoric, the chance of nearly getting caught at her most vulnerable and the faint lightheadedness making her vision foggy. Her orgasm leaves her legs trembling, slipping away from her still buzzing toy, falling forward into her sheets. She breathes in sharply, barely holding back a pained cry; fat tears of pleasure soak into her blanket as euphoria crashes and beats into her muscles. The heart-racing, earth-shattering, limb-thrashing orgasm makes her chest heave. Just like she wanted, she is left spent on her mattress, the powerful rush still lingering in her trembling body.

She flips onto her back, quickly pulling her bottoms back up onto her hips. In her drunken stupor, her earbuds fell out, and she can vaguely hear Tango’s praises. She picks her phone back up, eyes straining under the bright light, and closes out of the audio.

Her head is light, foggy with the residual high. A dazed smile flickers over her lips, exhaustion settling deep in her bones, finally satiated by her orgasm.

She scrolls through his account once again, this time reading through some of his other posts, like links to playlists and cute stories. Suddenly, the little message icon in the corner looks so appealing, teasing and taunting. Perhaps, she’s feeling a little giddy from her high or maybe it’s from the exhaustion, but she can’t seem to find a reason to not do it.

She sends him a message.

Meanwhile, Harry stares at the blinking cursor petulantly. It taunts him amidst a sea of white, a blank canvas in what should have been a completed midterm paper that’s due in a couple of days. His eyes sink closed, and he starts to drift off, only waking when his hand slips from his cheek, knocking his glasses askew. An old sitcom plays in the background, the canned laughter providing a break in the silence every five seconds. He sighs for the billionth time that evening, struggling to find motivation to even think at this point.

His phone dings, and he happily divulges the distraction, his brows furrowing as he reads a direct message from a user called honeyhi. He’s used to getting comments on his post, with the occasional direct message (which he usually deletes instantly because of poor past experiences), and now, he usually doesn’t think much of them. He isn’t doing it to gain anything from anyone. He just wants to put his thoughts out there, and it’s just an added bonus to get validation from beautiful people.

She doesn’t have a profile picture, not uncommon on that corner of the web, especially since his posts aren’t a lot of people’s taste. He wouldn’t usually indulge in them, deleting them usually instantly, but something compels him to open her message.

Not to be too forward, but I had the best orgasm of my life, listening to your audios. I’ve listened to your audios for a long time, and honestly, listening to you has become the highlight of my evenings ;)

Honey, you have no idea what that means to me.

Truly, his heart swells at her sweet words. It’s nice to get complimented on something you put so much effort into. He bares himself for strangers, expressing such an intimate part of himself for their shared pleasure, and it feels reassuring to get compliments.

I mean it. Also, Tango in the Night is arguably one of Fleetwood Mac’s best albums. Definitely top three.

Most people assume it’s a sex thing.

I wonder why.

He laughs a little at the dry comment.

So, what are the other two in your top three albums?

Pre or post Stevie Nicks?

Post, of course. What kind of question is that?

That was a test. You passed. I think we’ll get along just fine, Tango.

I think so, too, Honey.

—

Y/N rushes past the postman, nearly toppling over when her bag shifts slightly on her arm, her thick binders peek out of the top and dig into her arm. Her hand furiously slaps the elevator button, and she stands impatiently, her dangling keys shaking at her hip. The doors tremble as the weight teeters down to the main floor, far too slowly in her opinion. For a moment, she considers just running up the three flights of stairs to her floor, but that feels a little too eager.

She and Tango have their weekly phone call tonight, and her classes ran long today; that coupled with the stand-still traffic made her more anxious than usual to get home. She always calls first, since her schedule is the most complicated, and she’ll feel absolutely awful if she was late for their call. She feels silly getting worked up over such a small thing, but their friendship progressed beyond the occasional messages in the past month, and she honestly looks forward to their weekly talks. Tango is such a beautiful and humble person, and he is such a stable place of comfort. She knows that he will be understanding and have an independent, secondary perspective on any situation.

He is someone she can rely on for just about anything.

The bell dings above her, and the elevator doors finally part. After barreling inside, she sinks against the railing, glancing at the time, which is still just before her usual calling time. She sighs sharply when the doors begin to close, relief tugging on her shoulders.

However, a hand pushes through the lift’s doors before they can shut, and she bites back an irritated groan; she probably could have made it to her apartment by now if she had ran up the stairs. The man slides in and gives her a grateful nod, accompanied by a small smile. Much to her delight, he presses the ‘close door’ button quickly, and they’re met with no interruptions this time. It’s a quiet ride, despite her nervous feet tapping, and he taps away on his phone,

She admires him out of the corner of her eye, forgetting momentarily about her anxiety. Half of his hair is pulled back in a small bun, exposing the darker locks underneath, and a bandana pushes back the frizzy flyaways that would normally frame his face. The thick strands curl slightly at the ends; there’s one tight coil that she wants to tug on. She could easily become enamored with him, with his pretty green eyes and day-old stubble. His bag has H.E.S embroidered on the bottom corner. A coral colored, gem necklace rests beautifully on his tanned chest, which is mostly covered by a near see-through white top, covered with a baggy, gingham jumper.

After living in the building for two years, they have run into one another on several occasions but have never really spoken. He lives on the second floor, and he goes to the university as well.

When he leaves, after offering another nod and quick smile, she calls Tango. He answers after the second ring.

“Hey, sweets,” he grumbles, not as chipper as his usual self. Her heart sinks a little. He had his midterms last week, and she can only assume that the results are not what he had hoped.

“Oh, no,” she says. “What happened?”

“‘S nothin’,” he insists, but she can hear the irritation in his voice. “‘M jus’ getting myself worked up over nothin’. How was your day?”

Clearly not wanting to talk, he changes the subject, which is something Y/N has grown used to over the past few months. He doesn’t like to vent when he’s too upset because he’s afraid of lashing out and taking his aggression out on her. Thankfully, she has also learned how to distract him. Usually, his annoyance melts away within minutes, and he is his usual, bubbly self again.

“Well, let me tell you, I nearly killed the postman today, and someone nearly hit my car today.”

“What?” He asks incredulously. “Please, elaborate.”

And so, she does.

A couple hours later, Y/N’s in her kitchen, making avocado and tomato toast for the fifth time this week. Her roommate is gone for the weekend, thankfully, which means she can get more stuff done without interruptions (and she can talk to Tango for as long as she wants without getting interrogated about it). His mood had improved significantly after she was able to make him laugh at her own expense (he especially liked the story about how she grabbed her iced coffee too quickly this morning and spilled it all over the barista’s hand).

“I have a question,” he says quickly, as if he wouldn’t have the courage to ask if he held onto it for a moment longer.

“Okay,” she says slowly, almost fearful at the sudden change of tone in his voice.

“Would you be able to listen to something I recorded the other day?” He giggles nervously. “I dunno. I just feel a little,” he makes a little noise, “off about it.”

Stunned, she stares at her phone, the seconds ticking by before her very eyes, and despite the fact that the only reason why they know each other is because she listened to his audios, she’s a little taken aback by the question. Before she knows it, too much time has passed for her to brush off as anything but bewilderment. She stutters.

“I—uh—sure?”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“No, I am.” Stubborn and not willing to back down, she digs herself a deeper hole, despite the odd feeling growing in her stomach. “Yes, I will listen to it for you.”

“Okay, then,” he says breathlessly. “I’ll send it to you.”

Neither know what to say now. Conversation usually came easy to them, so it feels so strange to be stuck in such an uncomfortable silence. Now, she’s gone and ruined everything because of her hesitation. Why did she even hesitate? There’s no reason to be embarrassed. They’re both very open, sexual people, and it’s nothing to get so worked up over. Maybe, it’s the fact that it’s him, and she knows him so well now. Compared to before, when he was just some stranger on the internet, she knows his likes, dislikes; hell, she has even spoken to his cat, and it feels wrong because he is her friend, and that’s not what friends are supposed to do.

“It’s not weird. Is it?” He asks shyly.

“Of course not.” She says it a little too quickly. Admittedly, it feels a <i>little weird, now that she thinks about it. It would be like walking in on your friend having sex. Then again, the only reason why they really know each other is because she listened to his audios (which is basically him jerking off to his dirty thoughts). However, it’s not an aspect they spoke about too often, usually after a couple of drinks. Their friendship, despite how it began, is purely innocent. They were each other’s comfort person; they were there to vent, laugh, and talk with. Neither ever hinted toward anything different, other than the occasional, playful flirting.

“No, I’ll listen to it for you. What are friends for?”

She doesn’t know why her heart is beating so fast.

“Thank you,” he says.

“So,” she says, “do you want me to listen to it now?”

“Eager, are we?” He hums teasingly.

“Shut up,” she scoffs.

“I mean, if you wanted to hear some dirty talk, all you had to do was ask.”

“Please, stop talking.”

“Y’know I’m always down to clown.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

True to her words, she doesn’t wait for him to answer before she ends the call.

Her phone dings a second later with the link along with another cheeky message. The link is to a private web upload platform, and she feels special for a moment. She wonders if she should just listen to it while eating her toast and go about her usual routine, or if she should do what she usually does when listening to his audios. Is that what he would want, though? Would it make him feel uncomfortable? Is it more weird to just listen to him moan in her ear while doing mundane tasks around the house?

Granted, they have had some conversations about sex and the like, but this feels so much more intimate, especially because he knows that she’s going to listen to him jerk off, not to even mention the obscene things that come from his mouth.

What does it mean for their friendship? Perhaps, it’s not even meant to mean anything, just a sincere favor asked between two friends. Maybe, it’s meant to be a step toward something more on his part. Is that even what she wants?

She brushes off that thought quickly, as she has for months, because deep down, she knows it would just end up in disappointment.

Oh, what a mess.

She’s headed on a downward spiral that has no chance of stopping unless it’s hit by a freight train to hell.

She opts to forgetting her toast and slips into her bedroom, falling onto her blankets giddily. She presses play on the audio, her heart racing as it loads, and leaves her phone face down next to her ear, eyes closing to fully immerse herself, trying to ignore her anxiety.

“Hello,” he says slowly, almost shyly, and it feels like one of their late nights again, with him talking through her phone and her cuddled in bed, listening eagerly. “I’ve just gotten home, but I’ve been thinkin’ about this all day. Couldn’t go to sleep before gettin’ it out there, y’know.” He giggles, a pretty little noise she’s heard many times now. He laughs a lot, sometimes at himself, but mostly in response to her. He even laughs at her corny, little puns, which she appreciated.

“And ‘m really hard right now, so that doesn’t help either. I haven’t really been able to come in the past two weeks. Been too busy with… life, I guess. But a friend of mine talked to me about the world of BDSM. She’s a kinky little shit.”

Y/N’s heart lurches, stomach twisting with an unrecognizable feeling, knowing that the certain friend he is talking about is her. She remembers the conversation well, even though she was a little tipsy and very high, mostly because it was also the first time they had actually spoken on the phone, and it began as it normally does, about mundane things that happened that week. Somehow, the conversation shifted to kinks, and she told him that she wouldn’t be opposed to more sinful acts in the bedroom, most of which her previous partners had not indulged.

“I’m pretty vanilla, I guess. I just love to love people. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve never really been into that sort of thing, but now, I can’t stop thinking about it, and I’ve been kinda into some dark, dom stuff lately,” he admits slowly. “Dark for me, at least, which, again, doesn’t say much.” There’s another laugh, radiant and delicate.

“I dunno why, but I’ve been fantasizing about taking you into our room. A little lackluster, I know, but I’m not into the dark, dingy places, like those sex dungeons they have in the movies, where there’s lots of leather, red lights, music, quite the ambience.” He stops suddenly, and she could imagine his lips pursing to cease his ramblings. She wishes he wouldn’t do that so much; she wishes that he wouldn’t doubt himself and his beautiful way with words. If only he could be as confident in himself as she is in him.

“I just want to lay you down on our bed with our fluffy blankets pushed off to the side. Then, if either of us need to take a moment or stop, we can.” Her heart swells a little at his words. Even though he’s trying to talk about, in his words, “dark, dom stuff”, he is still so sweet and considerate, and she can’t help but soften. He trails off.

Faintly, she can hear him yank his belt from the loops, and it’s, honestly, one of the hottest things she has ever heard; the teasing glimpse of what could come far more erotic than anything any of her other partners could do. She could only imagine what it would feel like to have him in front of her, shirtless with his pants low on his hips; maybe he would be wearing the same floral pants he is in his profile picture, the ones that are unbelievably tight. She would be splayed on the bed, just observing this beauty of a man, waiting patiently for him to come and ravish her.

She’s sure that his tattoos cover more than just his arms, but how many more is a question that haunts her. The thought of a big tattoo on his thigh that she can grind on while he moans about how much of a good girl she is has led to many obscene dreams. She imagines black images carved into his chest, perhaps a trail of floating rose petals from his collar bone to his peck or a hellish looking snake wrapped around his waist. More vividly, she envisions a bold tattoo just beneath his belly button, one that she would scratch at while he violently pounded into her, one that she would kiss and lick before she would take him in her mouth.

Oh, what she would do to be able to feel his skin on hers.

She dips her hand beneath the band of her shorts out of habit, toying with the silky material of her panties. She tries not to think too much about her feelings, fearing it would deepen the ache in her heart.

“Anyway, you’d be on the bed,” he says, his usual slow, stifling voice pulling her deeper into the fantasy, “naked, on your knees with your pretty pussy facing me. You’re all tied up, starting at your wrists and ankles, and there would be a pretty knot down your spine that I can grab while I fuck you from behind.”

Her cunt throbs at the sudden turn. She could only imagine: her face pressed into the pillows, choking on the sheets, her muscles tight, aching beneath the restraints, and her voice raw, sobbing from overstimulation. Exhausted and wanton, she would take anything that he would be willing to give her. He would shove her face into the mattress, mounting her, and he would tug on the rope until it felt like it would permanently embedded in her wet skin, telling her how much of a good little slut she is, taking him so well.

She doesn't know why she’s drawn to rope play; perhaps, it’s all a part of the subtle nuances of the sex, the intimacy of tying the complex binds around your partner and the intricacies of sensory manipulation with such overwhelming stimulation. It’s so much more than just being bound while fucking. There is such a deep reliance on the other person to understand your body, your limits, your needs. It’s about trust and vulnerability. She thinks of it in such a melodic and romantic way; it must have resonated with Tango.

“Or I’d tie your arms to your legs, keeping you spread open for me on your back, with knots around your belly, the lead falling between your tits.” Her eyes flutter closed. While rope play is something that she has always wanted to try but never felt comfortable enough with another person to act on it. He would be different though. She cups her pussy, languidly running her fingers through her wet folds, feeling the arousal slip down her skin before settling on her sheets.

She pinches her clit, and her legs immediately jerk around her arm. Feeling far too sensitive for that type of stimulation, she simply strokes through her lips, focusing her ministrations on the delicate inside, close to her sopping entrance, enjoying the slow build.

“Then, I could hold onto your neck while I fuck you, and I like being able to see your face, to see how good I’m making you feel, to see tears of pleasure run down your pretty face. You could suck on my fingers while I fuck you, deep and hard. D’ya wanna choke on my fingers, pretty?”

She wants absolutely nothing more. She would gladly suck on his fingers if it meant that she could see the look of awe in his eyes, lust darkening his features when she bites teasingly on his nail.

“But if you’re on your knees, I could watch you in the mirror and still see your face. From behind, I can see your pretty, tight pussy take my cock.” He whimpers. “I haven’t decided which I would rather have.”

She can’t decide, either.

Then again, they could always have both.

“Of course, I wouldn’t give you my cock that easily. No, you’re going to be crying for me, begging for me to fuck you, and I dunno if I would fuck you right away or make you beg for it. I think for the first bit, after you’re all tied up for me, I’ll tease you, just barely touching you, pulling on the lead, the ropes tightening around your aching body. I think your tits would look so pretty all tied up f’me, babylove.

“When you’ve finally had enough, crying for me to stuff you full of my cock, I’d let you come, but I’d only use my fingers, never giving you what you really want. Maybe I’ll put a little vibrator on your clit and leave you there, having you come again and again until it hurts. I’d have you keep your panties on, of course. Don’t want you making a mess of the sheets, and then, when I finally give you my cock, I’ll put them in your mouth to keep you quiet, and so you can taste yourself.”

His moans are in the forefront in his sensual song, mixed amongst a symphony of bed and friction sounds. She matches his pace, flicking her wrist in time with the sound of him working his wet cock. She massages the entirety of her pussy, messily rubbing her fingers from the tip of her poor, swollen clit to her throbbing opening.

“Fuck, babylove, you’d be so good f’me, taking my cock so deep in your pussy. Would you cry f’me, pretty? Cry for daddy to fuck you into the mattress.” A rumbling groan finally breaks free, and she is so close to falling apart, her high festering into her muscles, burning through her nerves; her skin feels hot to the touch. She struggles to breathe, but she doesn't yearn for air as much as she does her end. Tears in her eyes, she clutches onto her blanket, tugging it in her mouth to keep from crying too loudly. She sobs, feeling a familiar tightness in her body, just beyond her grasp. Her hand still moves over her pussy, arousal seeping through trembling fingers, but she can’t reach her peak with such light, varied stimulation, her hips buckling.

“My pretty rope bunny,” he mutters. He’s desperate, truly just rambling on and on about anything that comes to mind. “My pretty honey,” he whimpers, almost inaudibly, “honey, honey.”

For a second, she thinks of the times that word has passed through his lips in less sinful situations, a slow, lulling honey when he’s trying to get her attention, sweet and innocent. That’s his special name for her, and she wonders if, possibly, he thinks about her in the same way she does, if he wishes to be with her in such an intimate way, just as she does. She thinks, incredulously, that maybe she isn’t overanalyzing the situation.

His bed squeaks faintly in the background, just barely heard over his withering voice. She can only begin to imagine what he looks like in that moment, legs tense, feet digging into the mattress, his hips thrusting to fuck himself into his fist. The head of his cock would peek through the top of his fist as he coerced his release free. She wishes she could see what he looks like when he comes, when he finally reaches his most euphoric moment. It’s such a primal thing to witness, to see someone liberated of all inhibitions, to observe them completely succumbing to their instincts. It’s such a beautiful thing to see someone acquiesce control and thrive so harmoniously with their body.

“I wanna wrap my belt around your throat.” He swallows thickly. She whines along with him. Perhaps, she’s just fooling herself, but she can swear that she could almost hear the sound of a leather belt squeezing in his fist. A pitiful pool of wetness slips between her ass cheeks.

“My cock hurts just thinking about how you’d sound.” He moans, mimicking the desperate heaves that would undoubtedly slip through her lips as he pulls his belt tightly around her throat. “Then, when you’re bratty, I can just wrap my hand around the belt and make it tighter.

“Please,” he mocks weakly, “please, sir, I’ll be good. But you’re just saying that to get what you want. You’re just a naughty, little slut aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she returns weakly.

“Maybe, I could get you a collar and pull you around with that. Would you like that?” He hums. “Of course, you would. You’re my pretty, little bunny.”

In any other instance, she would feel humiliated to be so aroused at being so weak and submissive to another, but he could convince her to do anything at this point. She’s close, toes curling and muscles tightening, and she waits for his familiar profession that he is also near the edge, but the silence that follows is deafening, a disappointing resolution to an intense narrative. It makes her stop completely, wet hand flipping her phone over to see that, indeed, she had listened to all of the audio. It knocks the air from her lungs when she realizes that that was it. She isn’t going to hear his cute little whimpers as he comes nor his sweet aftercare.

Frustrated from her ruined orgasm, she calls him instantly, and he picks up after the fourth ring this time, as if he <i>knows</i> that she is this needy and frustrated. She doesn’t give him the chance to greet her.

“That couldn’t have been all of it.”

“Well, hello to you, too—”

“I didn’t get to hear you come.”

“Is that what you wanna hear, honey?”

“Well, yeah, I always come with—” She stops before she says something she’ll regret, but by the sound of his laughter, it’s already too late. She wants to hide away in embarrassment.

“It’s only partially finished. I thought I told you that.” She can hear the teasing smirk he surely has plastered on his face, the cheeky bastard. “I just wanted to hear what you thought so far before I finished it. There’s no point in finishing something that I already feel isn’t worth the time.”

“Well, then,” she stutters quickly, “How does it end?”

“How do you think it should end?”

There’s a certainty in his words, as if he has already accepted her as a lover, and she knows that he is giving her the opportunity to initiate the next step. Fear squeezes her chest, and for a second, she worries that she isn’t brave enough to follow through. Every fiber of her being is pleading with her to just take that risk, but another, more rational side of her, is saying it’s better to say a quick I don’t know, and they would move on as normal.

“Where would you come?”

Oh, it feels so filthy to ask that, but it’s so relieving to hear the hum of approval that passes through his lips.

Her heart races, not like before; this is exciting and new and arousing, and it feels wrong. She doesn’t even know what he looks like; hell, she doesn’t even know his real name, and she’s so fucking ready and willing to give herself to him. There’s just so many reasons to not pursue him. She feels ashamed, almost, that she is weak for a man she knows nothing about.

“Hmm, that’s a good question. Where would you like me to come?”

But how can she not get weak when he asks her things like that?

Shivers bloom on her skin in sunflower blossoms. She knows what he wants to hear, and usually, she would tease him, telling him that he didn’t care if he even came or not, but the throbbing between her legs is relentless, and she’s just lust-drunk that she’ll say just about anything to get what she needs. She begins rubbing herself again, focusing solely on her clit this time instead of the entirety of her pussy in the palm of her hand. Breathing out shakily, she answers honestly.

“Everywhere.”

He moans, and she knows that was the right answer.

“Everywhere? Such a greedy girl. You want me to come down your throat? You wanna taste it? Maybe, I’ll have you choke on my cock, fuck y’face until you’re crying.”

After he was done fucking her, she’s sure that he would yank her up either by the rope around her breasts or by the belt around her neck (she can’t decide which yet) and put his cock by her mouth, rubbing himself over her lips and chin, but never quite pushing past the barrier of her lips; no, she would be the one to open her sweet mouth for him, her jaw lax and tongue wet as she takes everything he’d give her.

God, yes, she wants to taste him. She wants him to use her in every possible, degrading way: to use her mouth while she tied up, under his mercy, to fuck her face until she has tears dripping down her cheeks, wetting her heaving chest, to come down her throat until she’s choking on him, but he would pinch her nose and make her taste it until her vision was blurry.

“You’d take it all, babylove. Won’t you?”

He asks so innocently, his deep voice having a soft twinge, but she knows that it’s not optional, not that she would choose otherwise. She would greedily lap at his cum and drink it all, proudly showing off her empty mouth when she’s done. Maybe, he would insist that she keep it in her mouth and pull her into a wet, heated kiss, prying her lips apart so he can taste himself on her tongue.

“I could make a mess on your belly or your tits, and then, I could lick you clean. Or I could mark up your thighs and watch it drip onto the sheets.”

The thought of him marking her with his come is nearly enough for her to reach her peak. A voice in the back of her head chastises her for being so greedy; this is something she has fantasized about since they started talking, and it’s going to be over before it can even begin at this rate. She needs to distract herself, to focus on anything other than the painful throbbing between her legs.

“Or I could come inside you.”

That’s the last thing she needed to hear.

Only because it makes a thick bead of arousal seep into her sheets. It makes her finally give in and sink two fingers inside herself, and <i>fuck, she’s so wet and swollen and pliable. She sobs, truly biting back even louder cries behind gritted teeth. She curses again and again at the feeling coursing through her veins, heat spreading in her belly as her hips frantically move against her ministrations.

“By the sound of that moan, I think that’s definitely preferred. Such a filthy girl. Y’want me to fill your belly? Want me to mark you as mine?”

She just knows that he could fill her to the brim, but he would want to prolong the experience as much as possible, teasing her with his cock and coaxing her to beg for his cum.

She could just imagine the determined look in his eyes, so close to coming, but he would pull out, just barely teasing her trembling entrance with his twitching cock. He wouldn’t move, and when she would beg for him to put it back in and just fuck her until she couldn’t breath, he would say very simply: if y’want my cum so bad, put my cock back inside.

God, his face would be gleaming with this power, satisfied with seeing her so needy for his cum. Shamefully, she would put one of her hands on his hip while the other grasps his cock, pushing on him until he sinks entirely inside her once again, but he still wouldn’t move, simply filling her, the both of them twitching with arousal. He would demand that she make him come if she wants it so bad, as if it's a gift from the heavens.

“Are you touching yourself?” He asks, and only then does she realize that she was drowning in her fantasy; the sudden change makes her stop rubbing herself, her vision hazy. She parts her lips with wet fingers, slipping back down to her entrance, gently prodding inside until that euphoria builds once again.

“Yes,” she admits shamefully. “‘M so fucking wet for you.”

“Dirty little slut,” he says sharply. He has no room to judge, especially since she can hear the all-too-familiar sounds to him jerking his cock, wet sounds of his fist passing over the thick head echoing in her empty room. She is near tears at this point, so needy and high and horny, but she wants to make this last.

“Would you let me come? Please, can I come?”

It’s his turn to moan with approval, and she feels proud. His heavy breathing in time with hers, he seems to be lost in pleasure, voice hitching as he struggles to find words. Her orgasm swells to a near crest once again, but she wants to hear him finish. At this point, she knows what it sounds like, from the frantic ramblings to the guttural moans, and he’s not quite there yet.

“Do you think you deserve to come, honey? You think you’ve been a good girl f’me?”

“Yes, I’m a good girl—fuck—please, please, I need to come.” She stumbles through her words, what little power she held in her withering grasp deflating instantly from his words.

“I dunno, I think you’re a brat who just wants to get off.”

It’s painful how much his words impact her, volatile muscles spasming while she staves of hee end. She whimpers, sinking further in her headspace; she feels a cloud settle in her vision (or perhaps those are tears), overwhelming yet freeing.

“No, I’m your good girl,” she insists.

“I think you’ll have to prove it to me, honey,” he replies slyly. “I don’t think I’ll let you come quickly. I want you to beg for it. Can you do that f’me, babylove? Beg me to come.”

“Fuck, I’m so close,” she says. “Please, please, I need it. Please, let me come.”

“You can do better than that,” he says, voice cracking. Their harmonious sounds of excitement drive both of them closer to their orgasms.

“Oh, god—please, I—fuck—I need it so bad. ‘M so close, please.” She can barely speak coherently. Chills wrack her sore body, waves of throbbing pleasure threatening to break her. She wanted—no, needed—him to finish.

“Come f’me, Honey,” he says. “You’re my good girl, so good f’me. C’mon, babylove, come with me.”

She does. With ears ringing and eyes closing, she comes until her pussy aches. It feels never ending, euphoria consuming every part of her sweat-laden flesh, chilling and fiery, for hours—or perhaps only seconds. She can’t tell.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her vision blurry. Her body trembles with residual aftershocks of her intense orgasm. She lays spread open on her bed, her pussy still too sensitive to close her legs entirely.

“Thank you for letting me come.” In her daze, her limbs fall away limply. All she can do is exist at this moment. She vaguely wonders if he finished with her, the thought of his deep moans fueling another fire. A part of her is disappointed that she wasn't present enough to listen to him, but another part knows that more opportunities will come.

“You’re so welcome, honey,” he says sweetly. “I think we both really needed that today.”

She hums, still recovering from such a powerful end. She slowly regains her breathing.

“I guess I should be thanking you because that’s one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had,” he says. She laughs.

“You flatter me.”

“I’m serious. Nearly gave myself a pearl necklace.”

And just like that, everything continues as normal. Both know that the other is naked and satiated, but neither feels uncomfortable with the fact. If anything, it makes things relieved, open, or comfortable. They’re both giggly in the golden after-glow.

“What does this mean for us, Honey?”

As, yes, the dreaded ‘talk’. Fear immediately spikes in her veins, and she struggles to find her words. Before she can answer, he begins speaking again.

“Look, I really like talking with you, and I don’t want this to make things weird, but I meant what I said earlier. That was probably one of the best orgasms of my life, and I don’t think that I could live without your pretty little moans now that I’ve heard them. Maybe, we can do that again. We don’t have to put a label on it or anything, if you don’t want to.”

Her heart sinks. Is that all that he wants?

“Right, it doesn’t have to be anything serious, just us having some stress relief.” Her words are dry and forced, feeling like bile in her mouth. She grits her teeth. What the hell had she just gotten herself into?

“Hey, uh, it’s late, and I have to wake up early tomorrow. Same time next week?”

She hopes that he doesn’t think that she regrets what they did, and she hopes he doesn’t think too much into her abrupt ending of the call. It’s not a total lie; she does have work early tomorrow morning, but she has had more than a few days where she was running on two hours of sleep and a miracle. She just wants to get off the phone before he hears the contemplation in her voice.

“You think I can wait a week after that? You have too much faith in me.”

“I think you’ll survive, babe,” she says.

“Good night, babylove.”

“Good night.”

She falls asleep quickly after, dreaming of the nameless, faceless man who she bares her soul to.

Later that night, as Harry edits the finally finished audio, he thinks back to Honey and their mutual pleasure, feeling like an absolute idiot for saying that it was nothing serious. He wasn’t expecting her to agree so emphatically, so quickly.

Although, what had he expected? He was the one who suggested it. No matter, he can’t have a relationship right now, especially a long distance one. He would just end up getting hurt, but he likes her too much to stop talking to her completely. He finally took their relationship further even if it won’t lead to anything more.

—

“Are you ready to admit defeat?”

Y/N lets out a breathy laugh, despite her current situation, her hand rubbing leisure circles on her already sensitive clit, which still throbs from her first orgasm of the night. Tango murmurs praise in her humming ears.

She’s not really sure what they are, and she doesn’t want to think about it. It would only complicate things more.

Friends? Definitely.

Well, maybe not definitely, since she doesn’t even know his name, but what other word could she use to define their relationship? What sort of friends would say such filthy things to each other? Why would he call her ‘my honey’ so emphatically if they were ‘just friends’? Too afraid of misinterpreting his intentions and embarrassing herself, she doesn’t mention anything, and he never does either, but it keeps her awake at night, wondering what they could be if she could just put her feelings to words.

This would be the second hour of their phone call, and it only took them ten minutes for the conversation to turn into one of their “stress relieving sessions”. Both of them had a terrible day; she was late for the first day at her new job (they were understanding given the circumstances, but it still left a sour taste in her mouth), and he slept through an exam. She eased him into a submissive headspace quickly, babbling about what a good boy he is and how proud she is of him. Within minutes, he came, and she whispered all the filthy things she wanted to do to him until he was completely spent, his cock milked of all remnants of his seed, twitching and throbbing with empty orgasms.

He easily fell into the dominant headspace after his quick high, and he was adamant that he could make her come more than any of her other partners, even without him truly there. She knows that he can; hell, she has touched herself to his voice more times than she could count, but she likes teasing him, hearing him get all riled up and stubborn.

“Are you gonna come again, honey?”

“Nope,” she breathes, “Not even a little close.”

“You’re obviously lying or not trying,” he says sharply, and a sense of pride swells in her chest at her ability to get a rise out of him without even trying. She smirks.

“What are you gonna do? Punish me?”

“I might have to.”

She’s sure he would, too, but it would be in the most pleasurable way possible, with his mouth and fingers and cock stimulating her until she comes so many times she can’t take anymore. Her fingers trace her most intimate area, nails scraping against her quivering core. She sinks two fingers inside, feeling her sopping pussy swallow them easily, adjusting quickly and craving more. She tries to find that sweet, spongy spot inside her, but she can’t seem to reach it.

“Wish it was your fingers,” she mumbles, her movements certain and even, but it’s never enough for her greedy body.

“Yeah, lovie?” He croons, “they’d be so big in your tight little pussy.” She hums, wishing that he was there to stuff her in every way possible.

“Would you wear your rings?”

“For you? Of course.” Her eyes roll back at the thought; his thick fingers could tear her at the seams, and with the added texture of his rings, she would be coming within seconds. Her clit throbs, blood rushing in time with her racing heart, and she massages it harder, wanton and waiting for yet another release. “C’mon, babylove, Come for me. Make me proud,” he coaxes. His words make her fall over that edge once more, thighs shaking and pussy weeping. She’s sure there’s a creamy stain beneath her, seeping into her wet skin.

“Again,” he demands. She thinks she may break. “Keep going, babylove. Where’s that toy you told me about?”

He knows that she won’t be able to come much longer on her own, with the pain overwhelming the pleasure.

“It’s so far away,” she whines.

“Go grab it, love,”

Her legs tremble as she twists around, reaching blindly into her bedside drawer. She can’t close her legs too much without getting overstimulated; her legs ache and twitch. Once the toy is situated just above her clit, she ticks it on. Her body reacts immediately, limbs jolting about, hips ducking away, and her voice catching. Gasping, she almost wants to take the toy away, the stimulation being far too much.

He thinks differently.

“Turn it up higher, lovie,” he says so sweetly. Her chest feels like it could almost collapse into itself. Still dizzy from her orgasm, she’s not sure if she can take it, her body fighting against her. She wants to beg and plead for something, but she doesn’t even know what for. Is it for yet another orgasm that will surely be more powerful that any other? Or is it for the burning at every nerve ending to stop?

“I dunno—”

“You can take it, such a good little bunny for me.”

The vibrator ticks to the next setting, a sharp, persistent sound echoes in her empty room, followed by an even louder shout. She has not control anymore. Thankfully, she’s home alone or else it would be an awkward morning with her roommate listening to her cries of pleasure well into the night. Her hand shakes, but she presses the head of the toy harder to her clit. She lets out a guttural groan, feeling euphoria seep from every pore.

“There it is,” he moans, breathing growing ragged. He’s surely jerking himself off, basking in the pleasure with her, and it makes her arousal burn deeper. She wants to put on a show for him, to egg him on and make him feel as good as he makes her feel.

“There’s my pretty girl. Let me hear you, baby.”

She can barely squeeze out a few breathless whimpers from her chest, hedonistic—no, animalistic—sobs crash through her. Pain and pleasure fight for control, just as her mind and body do.

“Feel good?”

“Yes,” she says weakly. “Feels so good.”

She comes quickly with a silent cry, her lips parted and face scrunched. Saliva slips from her open mouth, and she is unable to wipe it away, lewdly dripping down her chin to her neck before finding it’s place on her dirtied sjeets. The recovery period is quicker this time; it’s either that or her body is becoming numb to anything but pleasure. It feels like it’s never ending with the vibrator still nestled tightly to her puffy cilt. Her lips are surely swollen now too, tender from too many orgasms, yet still sopping with arousal.

“Don’t take it away,” he says, “You got another one in ya. You can do it, lovie.”

His voice is muffled beneath blankets where her phone lies, lost in her ravenous bouts of pleasure, limbs writhing and tossing. Her body aches when she twists to put it back up by her ear to hear him more clearly, muscles tight from her previous orgasms. Legs closing slightly, she whines when the toy presses harder against her clit, hips ducking away from the strong vibrations, eyes fluttering closed. Her phone falls out of her grasp once more, but the light illuminates the dark room, casting a warm glow.

“Please—”

She’s not really sure what she’s begging for; it just slips out, a weak plea. Perhaps, she just wants him to be there instead of on the other end of a phone call, in some faraway place she doesn’t even know. The room would feel so much warmer with him here, her back pressed to his chest, their sweat mingling. Maybe he would wear those pretty lace stockings he showed her a picture of once, the glittery fabric coarse against her skin as he teases his toes along her leg, keeping them spread. His freckled and inked arms wrapped tightly around her middle, paying special attention to her tummy, he would whisper sweet things in her ear and press on the area right below her belly button, telling her of how he wants to grind his pretty cock against her soft middle until she is sticky with his precum, how he can fuck himself that deep inside her. She would feel him for days after.

“I know it hurts, baby, but just one more, then you can go to bed.”

It sounds so nice, the thought of sinking into her pillows for a good night's rest, but an orgasm sounds even better, one leaving her spent and satiated and sleepy.

“Such a good girl f’me.”

As much as she wants to, the sensitivity becoming nearly unbearable, she can’t stop; she wants to make him proud, to prove to him that she’s his good girl who can take it. Even though he’s not truly there with her to hold her and make sure she comes, she still wants to do as he says. Her legs tremble, threatening to close.

She squeaks when the vibrator hits a particularly sensitive angle on her clit, and she bites into her pillow to keep from crying out. Her hips work desperately, to reach that high for the last time, just one more, like an addict itching for one more hit. It’s her fourth orgasm within ten minutes, and this might just be her breaking point.

“I dunno if I can.” Her words slur, and she can feel spit dripping down her puckered lips. She suddenly wishes he was there to wipe it away, thumb soft and subtle against her skin, lingering on her puffy lips.

“One more, babylove,” he insists. “Just one more. You’re doing so well.” She bites back a mangled cry, eyes squeezing shut, her thoughts lost in a dark chaos. His voice is the only anchor amidst a dizzying high, coaxing her through her stupor with sweet words.

“My pretty girl, my good fucking girl, taking it so well.” His gravelly voice pulls her from drowning, his words gritty from his clenched jaw. “You’re not hurting too much, are ya?”

His deep voice is soft, lilting with a tender care she needs. She could simply melt, blanketed in the warmth of his rich voice.

“A little,” she admits, a dull ache in her belly when she clenches too tightly. “But it feels so good.”

The vibrations pulse through her body, leaving her voice shaky, and she shifts slightly, hips digging into the mattress. It settles on the underside of her clit, and it’s so close to that one spot, until finally—there, there, there—right there. She groans, low and guttural, drawn out from the depths of her chest, animalistic almost. Her body burns and trembles for a second before yet another strong, unrelenting wave drowns her. Every muscle in her body tenses as the head of the vibrator finds the one tender spot on her clit, catching at just the right angle that leaves her eyes teary, world dizzy. She knows it’ll be painful if she doesn’t pull away, a harsh orgasm building, but she can’t stop, not with him listening to her, waiting for her final bitter end.

She’s doing so good for him, such a good bunny. She trembles in the wake of such a violent euphoria, weak moans slipping in time with her belated breathing. It passes through in waves, the pain, a bittersweet burning welling deep inside her, but a different ache persists, one that leaves her yearning for more, one that makes her dig her feet into the mattress and press herself harder on the toy. Her toes curl, and her back arches, free hand twisting the sheets.

He hums appreciatively.

“My bunny likes it when it hurts. Doesn’t she?”

“Yes,” she sobs, “I want it to hurt.” Hips shuttering away from the relentless vibrator, Y/N feels her final orgasm build, pain lingering around the edges as her muscles twitch.

“Such a dirty little slut.” Her back arches at his filthy words, arousal pooling beneath her. She could feel it wetting her thighs. “Just f’me, right, honey? Just my pretty slut.”

She comes quickly, eyes rolling back as it overwhelms all of her senses. She feels tense yet relaxed. A broken cry breaks from her swollen lips as she shatters, falling apart for the final time. Her muscles quiver, tiny shocks lingering in the aftermath of so many orgasms in such quick succession. Her limbs ache. Her heart races. Her pussy throbs. She knows that this will be all she can take, her body completely spent. She can’t find the energy to keep her eyes open, and they roll back.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” she says, still struggling to find her breath and collect her thoughts, but when she does, a smile breaks her face. She feels everything and nothing all at once, so perfectly numb. She finds herself laughing incredulously because that cocky little bastard was right: he made her come more times than anyone has before. She laughs until tears slip down her warm cheeks.

This is the part where the emotions start to become just as overwhelming as her release. So much sinks in all at once, and she realizes just how alone she is, and she wishes he was here to pull her back down to earth, to hold and to love. She feels deflated. The sexual release is such a rush, but it brings devastating lows. With tears in her eyes, she struggles not to cave into herself.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” she lies, a sob curling in her lungs, forcing its way out in a blubbering mess. Once the first one escapes, the rest follow easily. She can’t seem to stop, heaving cries wracking her already sore body as she clutches onto her pillow. She fists her phone to her ear in an attempt to be closer to him, but that makes the feeling grow worse, settling to a black hole in her stomach, sucking all euphoria from her. Tears soak into her skin and sink into her ear, muffling his comforting words.

“Let it out, babylove,” he says softly. “I know, I know. I know. Sometimes it can just get really overwhelming.” His words are gentle, just as he is, and maybe that’s what makes this even worse. He is everything she wants. He is just so perfect for her in every way, but he is ao far from her reach. Maybe it would be better if he wasn’t such a good person. Maybe that would make the yearning go away. She’s quiet, slowly breathing through stuttering sniffles.

“Hey,” he says softly, “Go pee and clean yourself up, babe. Know you don’t like feeling all wet down there. It makes your peach all sticky.”

She nods, knowing full well that he can’t see her, but doesn’t move. She honestly doesn’t think she can.

“Go on,” he murmurs when he doesn’t hear the familiar rustling of her sheets. “‘M right here, honey.”

A few more tears squeeze out of her eyes at his words. It makes her whole demeanor crumble once again; she’s upset because he’s not really there, he’s not there to hold her and kiss her and love her, and that’s not fair. She just wants to have him here to tell her that everything will be alright; she wants him to be there to laugh with, to just be with. He is such a good part of her life, but she just wishes that he could physically be there in the way she dreams.

She cleans up quickly, tossing her spent underwear into her dirty laundry. Just as she had suspected, the remnants of her orgasms stained her thighs.

What’s that ache in her chest?

“Good girl, feel better, lovie?”

She nods and whimpers, unable to calm her trembling lips.

“Good, ‘m right here, babylove. Y’did so good, so proud of you.”

She crawls back to bed moments later, shuddering breaths and swollen eyes being the only remnants of her breakdown. She sniffles and wipes her wet eyes with the back of her hand, which smells vaguely of her feminine wipes.

“Sorry, if it was too much,” he says.

“No, no need to apologize,” she says quickly to get rid of any lingering guilt he has. It felt amazing, to be tested just beyond her limits, to be pushed to a shattering breaking point, to trust him to know what she can take. “It was nice. I just sorta—” Her voice breaks. “I dunno. Everything just got a little overwhelming. I think I’m better now.”

“What do you need from me, honey?”

She nearly starts crying again at how sweet he is. She almost could imagine that only a few minutes ago he was calling her his dirty little slut and demanding her to come until she could handle it.

“Just talk to me,” she says.

“So, I saw a couple dogs today,” he begins awkwardly. “Well, I was attacked by two little frenchie’s when I was walking to class, and it completely made my day ten-times better. They were so cute with their chubby little legs.”

He rambles on about his week, and it feels nice and familiar.

She’s nearly asleep when he begins talking about his mother. Apparently, she was visiting him last week, which was nice for about a day; then, he began realizing why he moved away in the first place: she is so smothering.

“And my mum is always nagging me to go out and socialize. She was like,” he breathes in, adjusting his tone to a falsetto. “Harry, you’re never gonna be able to find anyone if you don’t…”

He continues as normal, chattering away in his low, sleepy voice. She doesn’t think he even realizes his slip up, words spluttering out of his mouth so quickly that even he probably couldn’t hear it. She smiles as sleep finally overwhelms her.

Harry.

His name is Harry.

—

[joelsdagger]

all the things i would do

read on ao3 | resources on how to help Palestine here <3

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: porn no plot. joel finds an article of clothing of yours and there’s nothing holding him back once he gets his hands on them. 

rating: explicit, 18+ MDNI 

content warnings: [Post Outbreak], established relationship, implied age gap (25+ years), joel is canon age, slightly domestic joel (blink and it’s gone), joel has a panty kink, panty sniffing, masturbation (m), soft dom!joel, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, pet names (use of baby, sweet baby, sweetheart, love), smidgen of fluff (these two are so in love it’s sickening), an inkling of a size kink (but in my head joel’s at least 6’5, he’s a BIG big man in my brain), joel’s filthy mouth, praise kink, hint of sub!joel, nipple play, one use of the word ‘Daddy’ (moots don’t look at me I couldn’t help it), slight tummy kink/tummy worship, cum eating.  No use of Y/N. No physical descriptions of reader other than having hair long enough that it’s past her shoulders. 

word count: 3.1k

A/N: so, a few things before we get started. i’m new to writing fics and this is my first time publicly putting out a fic that wasn’t just for shits and giggles for my friends and i and i’m so fucking nervous like the amount of times i’ve panicked over this is a little embarrassing to admit but we ball. that being said, i love and welcome constructive criticism as long as you’re nice about it. there was an alternative version of this, it’s more like a deviation (literally sitting in my drafts as we speak) but reader is more involved in the situation, if y’all still wanna read that, just let me know and i’ll work on getting it out for you guys. finally, shout out to @skrunkly-scrimblo for encouraging me to actually write this all those months ago and for all your brilliant ideas and encouragement and practically holding my hand through it since day one, @aurasjournal for being such a gem and helping me with the cover for this fic and hyping me up, and thank you to @papurgaatika and @nevergoingbacknowshine for being so kind and encouraging and listening to my 3am rants when i was anxious. another big thank you to kat, aura, and naya for beta reading and helping me during the editing process. all four of you have been absolute sweethearts despite me being a pussy about posting this. okay i’m done rambling, enjoy some of the filth that constantly plagues my brain <3 

Joel’s eyes blink open slowly, the sun peeks into the bedroom through the curtains across the room. For a moment he searches for you beside him, but remembers you’ve already left for the day out on patrol duty. Joel harrumphs, still bothered over letting you and Ellie bully him out of his patrol duties. “You’ve been hurting yourself too much baby,” You had told him a few weeks ago over breakfast. “Yeah, you’re an old man now. You fall over one more time and you’re done.” Ellie snickers from her seat in the kitchen. Joel just rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to the dishes, but you had caught the small grin on his face when he turned his head back to the sink. Against the two of you, Joel never stood a chance.

Joel drags himself out of bed towards his dresser to grab a new set of clothes. He throws on a blue shirt that fits a little snug on his well built form, the thin material stretches over his broad shoulders, across his strong back, and pulls taut over his biceps and he grunts as he pulls a pair of dark wash jeans over his strong, thick thighs, securing them in place with a distressed leather belt that he’s had for years. Once he’s dressed, he takes in the mess in the room. He notices both of your clothes from the night before are still scattered around the room.  He bends down to pick them up, he grunts as his knees pop when he stands back up. He starts gathering them up to toss them into the hamper already overflowing with clothes. The last article of clothing out of place is yours. Your black lace panties on the armchair in the corner. He grabs them and his eyes widen when he feels it, the center still wet from him making you come earlier. His cock instantly hardened in his jeans.  

Joel turns on his heel and in just a few long strides he’s in your shared bathroom. He deliberately avoids the mirror, knowing that if he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror he’ll disgust himself even more. Briskly, he sets the laundry hamper on the tile near the bathtub. Joel brings the thin black lace up to his face, closes his eyes and he sniffs them, breathing you in completely. He groans at the scent of you. His cock painfully hard now. He knows he shouldn't but he can't help it. He’s addicted to you and he knows he can’t wait til you get home. He knows he can’t wait to have his way with you, dig into you any way that you will let him. So, without another second of hesitation, Joel unbuckles his belt, a clink from the metal hitting the edge of the counter, unzips his jeans and takes his thick, heavy cock out, and then brings your soaked panties to his angry, leaking tip. His precum meets the wetness of your panties and he hisses at the feeling. With the wetness of the gusset of your panties acting as a lubricant, Joel begins to slowly stroke himself, wanting to take his time, savoring every feeling, relishing in it. Joel soon becomes too desperate for release, he quickly loses control, his hips moving faster to fuck his hand, his hand tightening around his cock, the grip almost painful now. His eyes are screwed shut, as he throws his head back, the night before instantly replaying in his head.

He had just gotten out of the shower to find you sprawled out on your stomach on your side of the bed, ankles crossed in the air. He rakes his eyes over your form until his eyes land on your ass. You were wearing the panties he was currently fucking his hand with. You didn’t notice him stepping out of the bathroom, too busy looking at the photo album you had just put together. It’s relatively new, most of the pages empty, yet you were looking at the photos you had taken earlier that week at the Tipsy Bison. The one that had your attention was a photo of you and Joel that Ellie had taken. Neither of you looked at the camera, the photo had captured you mid-laugh, head tilting back, eyes shut, it was a full belly laugh at something Joel had said. Joel’s arm was around your shoulder tucking you into his side, smiling down at you, a rare type of smile, one reserved only for you. 

Leaning on the entryway, his arms crossed over his broad, tanned chest, he smiles at the view. You’re in nothing but your panties in his bed, in his home. His feet move without thinking, walking over to you. He brushes your hair over your shoulder, tracing his fingers over your soft supple skin down your back and over the lace of your panties, and lightly pinches your ass. “So pretty sweet baby,” he says shyly, almost like he’s speaking to himself. You turn your head to look up at him, smiling. Wordlessly, he took the photo album from your hands, placing it on your nightstand. He gets in the bed, carefully sitting on his knees while attempting to avoid loosening the off-white towel around his waist. You roll onto your back to face him, his silver curls still damp from the shower as water still drips onto his strong shoulders. He combs his hair back after a shower and the ends tend to curl up around his ears. It’s been months since you last cut his hair but you like his hair longer, you had whispered to him in the darkness of your bedroom, your naked, sweaty limbs tangled up together between his sheets. From that night on he hasn’t asked you to cut it for him. He likes it because you like it. 

While you’re busy ogling him, Joel’s hands immediately reach to trace the floral lace pattern before toying with the little satin black bow at the center front. His rough, calloused hands slide up your bare thighs, wrapping his large hands around your thighs and he pries open your legs, his hazel eyes locked in on your center like a bullseye and you notice the cocky smirk he’s got plastered on his face, pleased with himself that he’s already got you wet for him. 

He brings two thick fingers to slide over your covered cunt. He feels the wetness on the material and he pulls back to look up at you and finds your attention on his fingers. “What a mess you made, pretty girl,” he murmurs. You’re watching the movement of his fingers, entranced by his fingers teasing your pussy as he glides them up and down your slit. He clicks his tongue at you, “so wet for me huh baby? Always so wet for me. So perfect,” he smirks to himself as he gently pulls your panties to the side, revealing your aching, needy cunt. He lowers his head placing gentle kisses on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his lips tracing and peppering your skin all the way towards your center, his mouth hovering over the place you need him most and you shiver beneath him. 

“Joel,” you whisper, he chuckles seeing you all worked up for him. “Baby please,” you whimper. 

“What is it baby?” he tuts, “use your words, sweet girl,” he tilts his head slightly with a smug grin on his face. His fingers move up and down your folds. 

“N-need them inside me, p-please,” you whimper as you claw at his forearms, clutching them for stability. 

“Alright baby, lemme taste her first,” He lays flat on his stomach, moves his arms under your legs, and hoists them up over his broad shoulders. He lowers his mouth onto your cunt and the tip of his tongue licks through your folds. He hums at the sweet taste of you on his tongue. He flattens his tongue and licks a long thick stripe and he groans lowly, the vibrations making you squirm under him. 

“Fuck, more baby,” you beg. You gasp at the hook of his nose bumping your clit. Your hands fly to his hair, eyes closing swiftly, brows furrowed as you let out a loud moan. 

“There she is,” he smirks. He flicks his tongue over your clit. His eyes slip closed as he relishes in the noises leaving your mouth, like music to his ears. Your hips buck up into his face, selfishly grinding your cunt for more. Joel’s eyes flicker back up your face, “eyes on me sweetheart,” he murmurs. Your eyes snap open to watch him as he brings his fingers back up to your cunt, two thick fingers dip into you and you can hear the wet squelch as he eases his fingers in, simultaneously, he circles his tongue around your clit. He pumps his fingers slowly in and out of you, his tongue lapping at your cunt. You feel the pressure building up more intensely inside of your belly and then you’re chanting his name as he curls his fingers inside you, petting at the spongy spot he knows will break you. He closes his mouth around your clit and he sucks hard. 

“Fuck, Joel, yes yes,” Your hips bucking up into his face, your legs start to shake as you come on his face and your cunt tightening around his fingers, a loud strangled moan filling the air. 

“That’s my girl,” he says as he watches you gasp above him, pressing a quick kiss to your clit. Your eyes flutter open just in time to see him removing his fingers, all wet and shiny, and putting them in his slick covered mouth, sucking them clean. 

Softly, he grabs your ankles, pulling you down towards the edge of the bed eliciting a giggle. His favorite sound…well one of his favorites. His favorite being the next sound that comes out of your mouth when he quickly pulls your panties down. He sees the wet shine of your cum in the center and his face lights up with glee. “You made such a mess ‘a your panties, baby,” he tuts before tossing them across the room. He unties the towel from his waist and lets it fall and it pools around his legs, revealing his thick, heavy cock, the tip angry and beads of precum seeping out of the slit. You place your hands around your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, presenting your already spent pussy to him once again and he groans roughly.

He leans forward, his fingers running through your folds once more, and you quiver at his touch. He gathers your cum on his fingers and strokes himself twice before he dips the wide tip of his cock inside of you. A whine leaves your lips. That. That was his favorite sound. He doesn’t push in further… he doesn’t move an inch. He’s teasing you…wants you to ask nicely for it. Like clockwork his voice laced with honey he says “Ask for it baby, ask for my cock.” 

Desperate, you whine again “please joel… I need your cock.” Your needy fingers trail lightly over his soft belly, sitting up slightly, you place soft kisses from his belly button down to the dark patch of hair above his cock, his body trembles at the feeling of your lips ghosting over his belly and a breathy moan escapes his lips. He laces his fingers with yours, bringing your hands near your head, his large form encompassing your smaller frame, he lowers himself down over you, his lips brushing against yours. “Baby, please. Please fuck my pussy” you mewl. He pushes his cock deeper, deeper, and deeper til the head of his cock kisses your cervix, provoking a loud groan from him against your ear as he nestles himself into you, where he belongs. 

“See baby all you had to do was ask politely” Joel cooes. He drags his hips back, leaving only his tip inside you once again and you clench around him. “Fuck, goddamn you’re fucking tight,” he grits. Slowly he starts thrusting his tip in and out. 

You whine again, “Baby don’t be mean. I want all of it.” 

“Shh..I know baby, I know,” he soothes. Then in one long single thrust, he wedges his cock back inside of you to the hilt, bottoming out into your cunt, hitting the spot that only he knows with a loud ragged groan into the crook of your neck. His cock is stretching you out, feeling every twitch, he’s everywhere and it’s overwhelming. He hitches your legs up towards your chest, opening you up more, your chest pressed tightly against his, he drags the weight of his cock languidly between your slick, moaning at the wet sound of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room. 

When you look up at him it’s like you can see a lightbulb go off in his head and before you know it, Joel’s large hands grab the swell of your ass, he picks you up, and repositions you both so he’s on his back and has you sitting on his thick cock. He wants you to ride him. In this position you can feel him in the deepest parts of your belly and it hurts just a little bit but you find pleasure in it, you always have.  

Leaning forward, you place your hands on the headboard and arching your back a bit more, Joel's head falls back down onto the pillows. At the sudden change of the angle, his eyes shut for just a second before he’s snapping them right back open. He doesn’t want to miss a single thing. He wants to see it all.  He watches how your breasts bounce as you move and quickly, he leans up to catch a nipple in his mouth. He’s licking and sucking all over your pebbled nipple and then his teeth graze along the hardened peak before swiftly pulling it between his teeth. He moves onto the other and he flicks his tongue over your nipple, he sucks and nips at it lightly before he lets your tit fall from his mouth, admiring the slight bounce of your breast before his eyes lock in on your face, watching your face contort and your mouth open while you seek your high. It's his favorite thing, watching you like this. 

“Jesus Christ, look at you, you’re takin’ me so well,” he groans. 

The grip of his hands on your hips tightens but doesn’t guide you, just seeks some ounce of control. You lean forward more so your clit brushes ever so slightly against the dark patch of curls at his base. The friction makes you approach your orgasm quickly. Joel’s eyes flicker down to where you two are connected, taking pleasure in seeing his cock splitting you open, watching as it disappears deep inside of you. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck….use me. Fuck yourself on daddy’s cock, atta girl,” You roll your hips faster, grinding harder on his cock, greedy and desperate to come again. “C’mon baby, come all over my cock.” 

His words and your clit repeatedly pressing against him make your hips stutter and you clench around him as your orgasm finally washes over you, harder than before. Your body goes limp on his chest. Joel doesn’t let up, he grabs your thighs and lifts his hips, relentlessly fucking his cock up into you. His cock slams into you so hard the wet slapping sound of your bodies fills the room. 

You turn your head and press your lips to his ear, nipping at his earlobe, you spur him on “c’mon Joel, come for me baby,” you softly rasp. “C’mon baby, for me, do it for me love,” you whisper and he whimpers, his thrusts becoming faster, more erratic. You bite down on his shoulder to muffle the whines that leave your mouth as he fucks into you harder, your walls tighten around him, his cock twitches inside you before he hastily pulls out with a long pained groan and with his cock between your bodies, his cum spurts out, thick and warm, coating his stomach. A moment passes and you lower your lips down his chest, feeling the rough edges of his skin underneath your lips as you pepper open mouthed kisses along his strong torso, the soft skin of his belly, over the jagged scar on his lower abdomen, all the way down his happy trail, you feel him shiver beneath you. 

You sit up on his thighs, locking your eyes with his, you bring your fingers down to his cum on his stomach. You look back up at him, your gaze meeting his as you swirl your fingers twice in his spend and bring your shiny, sticky coated fingers up to your mouth, closing your lips around your fingers, sucking them clean. His mouth agape, he’s staring back at you while you use your fingers to lick up his cum, “dirty girl, one’a these days you’re gonna gimme a heart attack woman,” he groans. 

The memory of it all…you riding him, your naked breasts bouncing, his cock impaling you, watching it disappear inside you over and over, your cunt clamping down around his cock and the echo of your moans as you came last night playing in his head sends him hurtling over the edge.

His cock twitches in his hand, his other hand slamming down on the counter, he groans your name raggedly and his thighs quiver as he comes hard into his fist, harder than he ever has when jerking himself off. He pumps his release into your panties, hot, thick ropes of his cum painting your panties. His cum spurting out seemingly endless for a man his age. 

If you were here in front of him he would pull the fabric up over your thighs, making you wear your cum filled panties before going about the rest of your day.

But you’re not here so instead he brings the cum soaked panties up to his face, eyeing his spend and your wetness for a moment. He stops himself and contemplates the idea in his head as he eyes the glistening sheen over the center. Just as quickly as the thought infiltrated his head, he decides against it and bunches up the thin material and tosses them in the old laundry basket sat in the corner of your shared bathroom. Joel tucks himself back into his jeans, washes his hands, limping slightly as he walks out of your bedroom and closes the door behind him leaving your laundry for another day.

[devilmademewriteit]

Let Me Love You Like A Woman (Let Me Hold You Like A Baby)

part 3 of Dark But Just A Game

pairing: (pre-ellie) joel miller x afab!fem!reader

summary: you’re in his place. you’re in his bed. will joel ever be anything more than your dad’s friend who occasionally fucks his frustrations into you, or will you always be strangers?

warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, oral [m receiving] fem penetration, unprotected sex) so 18+ only content; fem afab reader; mentions of reader having long hair; pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel); dubcon (power imbalance); age gap; dbf!joel; angst; mentions of murder and torture.

beta reader: @millllenniawrites loml forever

word count: 4.1k

no use of y/n in this fic

Click here to read part 1, Dark but Just a Game. 

Click here to read part 2, Pretty When You Cry. 

(neither are totally necessary if u just wanna read some filth, fluff, n angst, all u rly need to know is that they’ve fucked twice before & he’s dad’s best friend lol).

a/n: thank u for all the support on this series. i’m literally so obsessed with all of you it’s not even funny. enjoy this while we collectively grieve the end of the season, & i’ll be here writing fic in the meantime. Don’t forget to join the taglist for any and all upcoming work! -em <333333

—

It had taken all of ten seconds for you to lose your shirt, your jeans, and your most beloved pair of (now ruined) panties after stepping foot in Joel Miller’s apartment.

“‘Fuckin’ soaked already—been thinkin’ about me all day, huh?”

And those tantalizing fingers. They were third on the list of things you thought about when you touched yourself, right after his cock and the insatiable look that haunted his eyes when he was inside you. Joel’s talents were wasted as a smuggler—he’d have made a fantastic pianist or maybe a guitarist with the way that index and that damned thumb conspired to make you sing for him.

“Anyone else touch you here since me?“ “No, Joel—just you—only you.” “Attagirl.”

He’d gotten you fully naked (something he’d never bothered to do before) and writhing in his grip in a matter of seconds, laying rough kisses down your spine with patience and attention. Every single one was a spoken promise: I’m coming back for you.

“Look at you, baby, takin’ a real man all by yourself.”

Hands on your hips, knees pressed to the worn-in mattress—every other word in the English language omitted itself from your vocabulary as Joel drew his name from your lips over and over and over again, the thick length of his cock easing you to oblivion with every gratifying stroke.

“Gonna make this pussy come til’ you’re begging me to stop, sweetheart.”

Feeling his cum drip down your thigh, barely having a second to breathe before being manhandled onto your back, hands searching your body, mapping you out like a foreign land before taking him in again. “It aches, Joel.” Crying softly into his neck, tears of pain and ecstasy leaking down your cheeks. “M’jus’ breakin’ you in, angel.” The smell of his hair anchoring your senses to right here, right now as release washes over you again and again and oh, Joel’s hands on the outsides of your thighs to steady your shaking legs.

“Eyes up baby, wanna see ‘em while I’m comin’ on that pretty face.”

Joel tasted like salt and sin and his stickiness on your cheeks felt warm like a late august sun. Watching you blink your lust-filled and trust-filled eyes, grabbing a fistful of your tangled hair, Joel memorized the way your pouting mouth looked painted with his seed. Thick, dark eyebrows creasing together as a groaned ‘fuckin’ hell’ fell from his open lips—with you, he became an artist, and with him, you were a blank canvas.

Now, the moonlit room was quiet; with every primal need purged from both your systems, your exhausted bodies lay entangled, empty and content. Joel’s heartbeat had settled a few minutes after yours—you’d made note of it with your ear pressed to his chest. But every twitch or fidget from the hand resting on the curve of your waist had your own rhythm picking up double-time, sending hot blood coursing through every now-aching limb.

“You should go,” he grumbles after a while, eyes still closed, body still at rest. Fucking you had basically rendered the man comatose. “Your dad’ll raise hell if he sees an empty bed.”

You scoff. “It’s not like he’s ever cared before—remember when Emma and I snuck out to the old mall and I radio’ed him to get us out?” Joel chuckles, remembering the fond memory. After all, it had been him and not your old man who’d shown up to kick down those crumbling cinema doors, partly rescuing you but mostly reaming you out for being such a careless, stupid teenager.

“And either way, Miller, I’m an adult.”

This time, it’s Joel’s turn to scoff. “Jus’ ‘cause you’re legal, dun’ make you an ‘adult.’ You still whine like a kid.”

You giggle softly as he mocks your indignant tone, feeling the lungs beneath you rumble subtly, too.

Joel was always softest and at his most vulnerable after sex. Well, aren’t all men the same? You figured it was just the nature of the act that left its participants a little more tender and a little less inhibited after its completion. It was strange to remember that Joel was a man like any other.

And the man that you’d allowed to ruin you so skillfully, to burn himself on the archives of your mind, somehow remained a complete mystery to you. He was a tangled web of stifled emotions, unspoken sentences, and chilling stories you’d heard from your inebriated father.

If there was any time to untangle him, it was now.

Joel’s t-shirt is damp with his sweat, and yours, too. What a shame that he hadn’t removed it earlier. He was so very impatient when it came to fucking you, and despite having enough patience this time to get you naked, he didn’t bother to give himself that same treatment. At this point, you felt too self-conscious to ask, pretty well certain that he’d turn down your request, anyways. Peeling your profile from the navy blue fabric, you gaze up at him inquisitively, a steadying hand pressed tentatively against his broad chest.

“Can I ask you something?”

Your voice sounds small, like that of a scared child. It makes you cringe.

“Hmph,” he grunts, eyes firmly closed.

Better than nothing. A start.

“Well,” you begin, painfully slowly, tracing timid circles under his collarbone, “Sometimes, I think—”

“S’great, sweetheart,” he interjects in mock earnestness. “Good for you.”

“Knock it off, Miller,” you slap his shoulder playfully. A sly, amused expression teases his features.

After a long, heavy pause, with only the trickling and creaking of the old building occupying it, you soldier on.

“Sometimes, I think that when you’re… well, fucking me… you, well, you kind of use me to—vent.” There. You’d said it. “Like, your frustrations.”

A long exhalation escapes Joel’s lips as he mulls over your words, choosing eventually to respond with cautious and dismissive humor.

“This your way of askin’ me if you’re more’n my human Xanax?”

“No, asshole.”

He hums quietly. The distant sound of a gunshot travels through the open window, dragging you both back to the present moment.

A forced sigh. “I wanted to ask you what you’re trying to get off your mind.”

Joel tenses almost imperceptibly underneath you, an air of seriousness collecting around him.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he grumbles, amusement fading from his tone. “M’not really interested in talkin’ about our feelings together.”

The harshness of his words only entices you to push him again, to understand the man who so clearly understood you. There was something there–likely many things there–that he had fucked into you. Things that you now need to know. Things calling to you like an abandoned childhood home.  

You want to pull him into yourself, crawl under his very skin and exist there for a minute or two. In his bed, in his place, and you’re still worlds apart.

“I’m not asking you to talk about your feelings, Miller. I just want to know that I’m not letting, like, a total, raging maniac climb between my knees.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. His eyes flit open, and as soon as they do, you recognize the vacant, apathetic expression that had characterized him for you all these years. He grunts, pushing himself up on his elbows, and you sit up, yanking at the tangled sheets to cover yourself.

“Ever been outside the QZ, sweetheart?” He asks, his poorly restrained temper slicing through his words.

Looking down at your hands, you trace the cream-colored creases stretching along the blanket, shaking your head no, side to side.

“S’right. Not a single man on this planet that’s not a total, raging maniac. Enough fear, thirst, or hunger…” something truly terrifying creeps onto his expression, a vision of darkness, unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Not with soldiers, not with your father, not even with Joel.

“Everyone’s a killer.”

You swallow slowly, trailing your eyes up to meet his charged gaze. The room feels cold.

“Are you?”

His shadowed eyes narrow with irritation. “Am I what, sweetheart?”

“A killer.”

Then it’s regret and violence corrupting his features, and before you know it, Joel Miller is somewhere else. It takes a long time for him to come back to you (if you can even pretend to claim that Joel had ever been with you in the first place).

He hesitates, huffing quickly with frustration and looking away for a brief moment before focussing back on you—conceding to your question with a quick nod.

An acidic taste collects on your tongue, but his answer isn’t surprising. You’d always known in some way that Joel had taken lives. Still, it felt strange to hear him acknowledging it, to see the pain that admitting to it caused him. His actions actually bothered him. That meant he had a soul in some jagged, twisted form and that certain things could affect it. Thinking about that made your temples hurt.

“For what reason?”

You can’t help it—you’d come this far, and it felt like failure to quit prying. It doesn’t matter that Joel’s a grenade with no safety lever. You know it’s only a matter of time before he explodes, but you’d grown up diffusing your father daily. Bombs were your specialty.

“Does it matter?”

Upstairs, the floorboards creak softly. It almost makes you jump.

“I think so.”

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, brow furrowing with irritation. Otherwise, he stays surprisingly level. Some hopeful part of you tries to whisper that some softer part of him actually wants you to get under his skin.

“Alright.” You stare at him, stunned at his forfeiture, as he breathes a dark, humorless laugh. “But you’re gonna hate me for my answer.”

There’s a loaded pause as you gape expectantly at him. His head falls back, eyes fixed to the chipping, washed-out ceiling.

“In the early days of the outbreak, before FEDRA had the QZs figured out… things weren’t easy. You gotta understand that.” His gravelly voice cuts through the room’s silence, vibrating through your stilled body. “I’ve killed, tortured, n’hurt more people’n I can count. Sometimes to save myself, sometimes someone else, ‘n other times… other times jus’ because. And,” he groans, laying his back against the pillows as his harrowing monologue comes to a close, “It wasn’t always life or death, either.”

You pull the sheets in close to your chest, shuddering partly due to his words, partly due to his delivery. As if he was warning you. As if he wanted you to hear the truth and…

And punish him for it.

With his eyes shutting again, he can’t see you studying him. He’s probably assumed that a look of abject horror has poisoned your complexion. As you angle yourself to view his resting body—the pained expression causing his eyebrows to furrow, lips pressed tightly together—an overwhelming rush of adoration expands in your lungs, swelling inexplicably and uncontrollably in your chest. Your thoughts blare at full blast inside your racing mind.

Joel was capable; he had blood lust and an inner violence that meant he felt, deeply, and he’d die—or even better, kill—for those he loved. He was…

Joel was perfect.

Maybe it was a fucked up thing to feel—maybe it meant that you needed to be studied by a team of psychiatrists. Either way, the thought of his agonized soul, carrying on out of sheer spite and a reluctant desire to protect his own had you melting at his side. Joel wasn’t static, unfeeling, or a ghost, he was real, and he was alive. Growing up in a near-dead world haunted by once vibrant cities had made that trait alone extremely precious.

He remains still while you move his arm, wiggling next to him to sit back on your calves and looming over his unyielding form. Maybe he thinks you’ve pulled a gun on him and is just giving you a chance to pull the trigger.

Dropping the pale sheet from your breasts, you caress Joel’s harsh jaw in one hand, sneaking the other down, down his stomach and under the waistband of his briefs.

His eyes surge open, finding yours and filling with confusion. You burn with affection, a kind of fierceness that wasn’t there before.

Brow creasing, eyelids fluttering as he hardens in your grasp. You wordlessly entice him once again, bowing down and over to press tender kisses to his neck.

“I could never hate you, Joel Miller.”

He whimpers softly as you stroke him—tantalizingly slow in big, long pulls—it makes your heart flutter to hear him whine for you. 

A refreshing reversal of roles.

You ease your way down, trailing your lips down his scarred side and over to his front, exploring the strip of grey hair marking the center of his abdomen.

Joel watches you, longing on his lips, but the uncertainty still lingers. You need him to listen.

“I’d kill and torture if it meant survival—” you arrive at his hard length, pumping it in your hand right next to your softened features.

“And I would kill and torture for you.”

Without breaking eye contact, you part your lips around the tip of his cock, drinking in his fascination as you take him in slowly, wholly. The head of his thick, impressive length kisses the back of your throat. 

Once again, you’re filled with Joel. 

A soft hiss, and then his face becomes a symphony of pleasure, disbelief, and, finally, hunger. His large hand caresses the back of your head, capable fingers tangling softly in your hair as you glide up and down his length, tasting the salt of his pre-cum and your own acidity on his satin-smooth skin.

He only parts from your stare when you draw lazy, adoring circles around his tip, throwing his head back and grinding out a ‘Jesus Christ.’

It’s almost too much for him when you start using your hands, making it your life’s purpose to eagerly please every inch, every square millimeter of him. You drag your tongue from the base of his length all the way up to the top, silver-lined eyes boring intensely into his own.

“Shoulda let you do this sooner,” he breathes, gently pushing your head down until your nose brushes against those dark, curly hairs. “Look so fuckin’ pretty with a mouth full of cock.”

There he is.

You pull off him, strings of saliva trailing down from your lips to the glistening tip of his length. “You wanna come on my tongue?”

In a haze, perfectly slowly, Joel throws his head back with a low growl. You stroke him affectionately, spit and his own salt collecting between your fingers as you wait patiently for his reply.

Then he pushes himself up to a sitting position, wrapping his rough hands around your upper arms and easing you up off his length. “Not this time, baby.” You’re straddling him, taking in the unfamiliar care spoiling his tone and softening his hard features when he leans forward, locking you in place like a missing puzzle piece he’d spent his whole damn life searching for. His cock rests between your bodies, pressing exquisitely against your abdomen.

“Only got one more in me, sweetheart. M’not plannin’ on wastin’ it.”

He lifts his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks between them like some kind of priceless, fascinating object. It all feels so paradoxical: innocent despite the filthiness of his words, gentle despite the forest fires blazing in his gaze. Searching your eyes, he runs the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone. 

And he kisses you.

It’s not bruising at first—it’s a soft, curious question, an experiment. The grey-flecked hair of his mustache brushes the crescent of your Cupid’s bow, and the feeling almost brings you to tears. So you lean into it, deepening the kiss with hard pressure, searching for the answer on his tongue. That’s when his hands tangle in your hair, and his lips steal the oxygen right out from your lungs as he reciprocates fiercely.

It’s like watching a prisoner take his first steps out into the sun after being held in isolation for a decade. You wonder if it had been that long for Joel.

Without breaking away, you trail a hand down the fabric of his t-shirt. Then, you’re grabbing it from the bottom and hitching it up his abdomen. He pulls away just a half-inch to meet your heavy-lidded gaze, his own marked with apprehension.

“I want all of you,” you plead breathlessly, sliding off his starved lips.

Joel ducks his head, staring at the meeting place between your fingers and his cotton.

“If…” he tries, words clumsy, voice gruff. A bit of bashful humour underscores his tone, too. “F’I let that happen, you’ll see that I’m really jus’ an old man, angel.” You begin to protest, having come prepared with another I-like-them-old-and-decrepit speech, but he cuts you off, anticipating your reaction. “Jus’ been a long time since I looked fit enough for somethin’ like you.”

It’s almost too ridiculous. Joel Miller, worried about how you’ll receive his appearance after you’d deep-throated him for admitting to Geneva-convention levels of violent crime.

This time, it's your turn to cup his face, cradling him reverently between your hands with passionate devotion.

“You and me might be different on the outside,” you begin, surprising yourself with the conviction dripping from your own tone. “But deep down? I’m just as rotten as you.”

His mouth breaks into a genuine smile, and he chuckles, creases lining the corners of his eyes as if carved there by God’s own hand. Nodding with concession, he shrugs his shirt off; you reach out to help him to pull it off entirely.

Scars, definition, and tan skin stretch with every shaky breath he takes. Fuck. The tips of your fingers explore him, honoured by the feel of likely being the first in ages to claim this spot, and that one, and this one here, too–Joel’s turned you into a conquistador, a crusader.

“You’re so, so handsome, Joel.”

It’s not enough to see him, wholly exposed, flesh-blood-skin-scars-and-muscle. Nothing’s ever made you feel so safe and so warm; Joel is a worn-out, hand-me-down jacket that you can’t seem to part with; he’s candles during a thunderstorm, a thick blanket begging you to wrap yourself in it. You want him on you, against you, inside you.

So you take the man, and you kiss him—ardently.

His breathing hitches when you grasp his length, and it stops completely when you slide it between your slick folds, pulling every inch of him inside yourself appreciatively. You swallow his groan as he inhales your gasp.

Your hips move together in tandem. Rocking against his thighs as his hands anchor into your hair, or on your breasts, your ass, your waist—Joel holds you as close to himself as physically possible, threatening to crush you between his arms, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip with a starving kind of need.

Old habits die hard. Joel gets swept up in the way you start struggling to kiss him back, the involuntary clenches of your cunt around his impossibly hard cock, and your helpless fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. Sliding his hands under your ass, he holds your hips steady. Then, he’s spreading you open to receive him more readily, dictating the rhythm, the angle, and the brutality of how he fucks you.

Ruining you to completion was quickly becoming an addiction.

He smiles against your mouth when you give him a muffled “mmm,” releasing your lips to watch, a captivated audience, as your eyebrows knit together, relishing the sound of your lungs filling with short, pleading gasps.

“Gonna be bruised inside n’ out, baby.” Joel’s promise barely registers over the clap of his skin against yours and your own wanton moans. A thoroughly cock-drunken expression and the worship of his name on your tongue win you some hard-earned praise.

“Taken me so many times tonight—been such a good lil’ toy.”

Your lips slide down the stubble and the rough skin of his cheek, limp body giving out with every punishing snap of his hips. Still, you attempt speech, stammering out a “Joel, I-I want—” that’s mostly unintelligible.

“I know, baby,” he coos, words muffled by your hair, hot breath fanning out over the valley of your neck. “S’hard to use your words when you’re jus’ so full, huh?”

After finding the strength to straighten up and face him, your mouth moves from its permanent ‘ah’ shape to string together a pleading, desperate sentence. Joel doesn’t make it easy for you, picking up the intensity of his strokes, dragging you to the edge of bliss.

“I wanna—I want you to show me how to ride you—to take you—please—let me make you come.”

He laughs softly into your shoulder: the sight and the sound of a woman begging to do the work was a kind of rarity (albeit an appreciated one, at his age) in his experience. Acquiescing, he lowers you back onto his broad thighs, slowing his rhythm, and giving you a chance to catch your shallow, uneven breath.

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

Like a true cocky bastard, Joel leans back against the mess of strewn pillows, casually tucking his hands behind his head and leaving you to steady yourself on top of him, velvet walls still fluttering and squeezing adoringly around him.

You hold yourself up with your palms pressed flat against his chest. Rock slowly and carefully against his hips, observe the sight of your fingernails pressing into his unyielding chest. A whimper tumbles from your sore, parted lips as Joel’s tip nudges your inner-most sensitive spot.

“Eyes on me.”

Hardened hands reach out to circle your waist. “You look at me when you’re riding,” he instructs.

“Show me how grateful you are for this cock.”

His voice is strict and firm but gentle all the same. Joel relaxes underneath you. It feels good—so good—to watch your body undoing his own; it feels even better when he flexes involuntarily inside you, stretching open your sore, aching, and somehow still needy cunt. Locked into his lustful, dominant gaze, you speed up, throwing your hips back to grind enthusiastically against him. He watches first your eyes and then your breasts, palming them, teasing your hardened nipples roughly.

“You wanna touch yourself?”

Low and gravelly and filthy, his question looms over your body, only adding to the soft thud drumming inside the eager bundle of nerves between your thighs. 

He makes you realize that you really, really do.

You nod eagerly at him; Joel gives you a knowing expression of sympathy.

He never could help his condescension at watching you crumble so easily from so little.

“Show me, angel.”

So you do–Joel holds you steady as your hand falls to your clit, drawing clumsy circles over that one aching spot. Your fingers are frustratingly unskilled compared to his, but at this level of arousal, you’ll do anything to ease that mounting pressure. You focus hard, multitasking through your euphoria.

Him watching as you pleasure yourself excites you. Squeezing him harder, riding him with newfound passion—Joel groans as his long-awaited orgasm builds between his thighs, watching you bounce up and down his tense, throbbing length. His darkening eyes beckon you to keep going, to tip him over the edge.

You want to fall into them when he comes inside you.  

He knocks your hand away, replacing your index and middle fingers with a broad, calloused, impatient thumb against your grateful bud. “Ohmygod–Joel–” and the rush worsens, his fingers acting as catalysts for the all-too-familiar sensations spreading across your core.

“With me, baby,” his voice is gruff, restrained by need, want, lust. “Lemme feel you comin’ when I fill you up–s’it, good fuckin’ girl–”

Tears collect on your lashes, and a sob heaves from your throat. You reach your climax for him, the ache from your clit spreading to overtake every inch of your body. Joel comes too. He tucks your head into the soft, damp skin of his neck and fists the hair at the back of your head. Your legs ache with absence the moment he pulls his fingers away from your core. Still, his only instinct as his seed spills between your walls is to pull you into himself as tightly as possible, to intertwine himself wholly and eternally with your young, devoted soul.

He doesn’t let you move after it’s over. One arm circles your waist, the other snakes up your back; it feels like standing at the base of the pearly gates of heaven. When his laborious exhales brush the top of your spine, it’s those damn angels sighing.

And it feels like he’s here. It feels like you’ve landed somewhere together, no longer strangers but something else. Something new. Something stronger. Sweeter. And worlds more dangerous.

Joel Miller running his thumb up and down the plunge of your neck. Joel Miller cursing himself for allowing you to take a hammer and chisel to the walls he’d spent painstaking years putting up, eternities before you were even born.

Joel Miller realizing that he can’t find it in himself to let you leave.

“For the record, sweetheart—I’d torture n’ kill for you, too.”

You have no trouble believing him, smiling softly against his shoulder.

—

TAGLIST: @mads-grace4 @anyas-stuff @liviloo12346 @bookofbee @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @stardust-chords-enthusiast @fruitcupsworld @sallymilkweed @maudlinflowers @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @daydreamerblues @spacelatinos4life @totallynotastanacc @honeycovered-bandaids @daddy-din @cedricbitch @tiredbuthappy @sweetpea99 @ghostfanwriter @daixylie @witchy-jadda @ninebluehearts @jbcalway @jasminedragoon @inkedells @ayehomo @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett

—

Tumblr on mobile loves to destroy my fics by screwing with the last few hundred words SO here are the lyrics to Let Me Love You Like a Woman by Lana Del Rey lmao <3

I come from a small town, how about you? I only mention it 'cause I'm ready to leave LA And I want you to come Eighty miles North or South will do I don't care where as long as you're with me And I'm with you and you let me

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in poems and songs Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me hold you like a baby

I come from a small town far away I only mention it 'cause I'm ready to leave LA And I want (need) you to come I guess I could manage if you stay It's just if you do I can't see myself having any fun, so

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in songs and poems Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman Take you to infinity Let me love you like a woman (let me hold you like a baby) Take you to infinity Let me love you like a woman (let me hold you like a baby) Take you to infinity

We could get lost in the purple rain Talk about the good old days We could get high on some pink champagne Baby, let me count the waves

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in songs and poems Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman

—

[buckleysbitch]

summary - hate sex with your mortal enemy, ellie williams.

warnings - 18+, asshole!ellie, literally just pure filth

authors note - finals are done!! i’m free to write for the whole summer woohoo!

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

“god damn it.”

the screams erupting from your mouth are sinful, guttural even. you can’t even remember how long you’ve been at this, or how you even got to this point.

getting dicked down by ellie williams.

one of her hands is locked into your hair, another smacking and scratching your ass so hard you’re nearly sobbing, sure you won’t be able to move for days.

“yeah? gettin so soaked from me hurtin you?” she mockingly pouts while smirking to herself at how you’re gushing around her strap.

you can barely give her a response, just pathetic whines that she starts fucking laughing at, all while continuing to drill into you.

“shut the fuck up, n’ listen slut.” the hand she had relentlessly been hitting you with gets clamped tightly over your mouth, as she slows down her thrusts so agonizingly you feel your mind going fuzzy.

“y’hear that?” she growls in your ear, “how fuckin soaked she is fr’ me?” you bobble your head up and down in a last ditch effort to please her, but she doesn’t even hesitate.

“think you should be allowed to cum?”

you seethe through her tightly pressed fingers, tears pooling on her pointer finger as she tauntingly chuckles into your ear.

“go ahead then.” she all of the sudden stops thrusting and peels her hand from your mouth, leaving just the tip of her thick strap inside you. “make yourself cum on my dick, since y’such a whore.”

god, you fuckin hated ellie williams.

[thot-of-khonshu]

jealousy, jealousy (joel miller x f! reader)

Masterlist | Kofi

Summary: Joel is jealous that you're on patrol duty with your ex, even if he claims he isn't. You find a way to show him that you're his and only his in the bedroom.

Rating: 18+ explicit

Content: this is some straight up filth guys. implied age gap, jealous! joel, jackson, explicit smut, explicit dirty talk, unprotected sex (p in v), mentions of anal, liiiight anal play, creampie, oral sex, fingering, riding

Word Count: 3.1K

I'm back, y'all. I know it's been a minute but I've been busy with work and getting back into school. I have loads of ideas and WIPs I'm working on and though it's not ofc required, I would appreciate if you could show some love for me through buying me a Kofi so I can continue to write while I've also got school and work going on. Love you guys!!! Happy hoeing!!

“You’re sure it doesn’t bother you?”

You can’t remember how many times you’d asked him at this point. You knew Joel was a man of few words but sometimes many expressions.

When you were paired with your arrogant ex boyfriend to patrol the perimeter on Saturday morning for the first time, you could’ve sworn you heard a puff of annoyance come out of his mouth but when you questioned him about it all he could say was “Nothin’.”

And at first it didn’t bother him.

He knew with you being younger and having more time in Jackson, your experiences shifted between the two of you. While he had more memories of the world before this one, you had more experience.

Before you was Tess, and before that he was so focused on being a father that he can’t remember the last time he was with a woman before then. But it didn’t matter. When the two of you got together, sparks flew.

Things settled into a calm Joel didn’t think he deserved. Nights with you, Ellie, Tommy and Maria, a family he didn’t picture ever having again but now a family he couldn’t live without.

He also loved what happened when everybody left at night and it was just the two of you. His thick fingers rubbed against your swollen clit. His broad shoulders kissed at your ankles when he positioned himself on top of you, ready to enter you in a teasing, tantalizing way. The way you bit into his shoulder when you wanted to scream but didn’t want to wake the neighbors.

He knew the two of you had a great thing going. You were in love. So why was he so damn intimidated by some arrogant little shit? You and Max apparently didn’t date for long, telling Joel his “personality got in the way of anything serious.” That didn’t stop the asshole from trying to show off whenever you passed his way.

So the idea of the two of you alone and secluded with nothing but time didn’t exactly appease him. And here the two of you were, at dinner the night before the shift and you could see the clicks in Joel’s jaw that weren’t just from trying to chew his chili.

“Joel.” You insisted. He looked up from his food, finally. Trying to appear stoic, but you knew he was faltering.

“You’re not mad?” You tested. He rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Why would I be?” There he goes, back into the damn chili.

“Joel.”

“Okay, okay. If I had any problems, it’s just that Max seems a little…peppery.” Joel said to you.

“Peppery? Joel, our chili is peppery. You can just say Max is an asshole.”

“Alright, alright.” He holds his hands up in defeat. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. Just the idea of the two of you out there by yourselves isn’t the most appealing.”

“Well, well, well.” You tease. “Joel Miller finally admits he’s jealous.”

“But I trust you. Just be safe out there tomorrow night. Get some rest.”

“I can’t get some rest at your place?” You bat your eyes at him. Normally, if one of you is patrolling early in the morning you have a rule of not spending the night. You figured tonight could be an exception.

“Come on over, then.” Joel smirked at you, breaking his tough exterior. There he is.

“I’ll go home and pack a bag.” You got up after finishing your chili, pecking your lips on his cheek and headed home to pack an overnight bag.

—----------------------

Joel finished the rest of his dinner by himself, Ellie and Tommy stopping by his table before going on their way. They could both tell something was bothering Joel and it hated that it was bothering him.

He still didn’t entirely understand what you saw in him. When you’d first gotten together he was almost too truthful of his past, what he did to survive, his journey with Ellie, the lies that drifted them apart until they were brought back together. But all you could do when he told you his story was wrap your gentle arms around him and thank God he survived.

Now was the part where he got to actually live instead of just surviving. He forgot about petty things and petty feelings like jealousy and how they can arise.

“You two having fun?”

Joel zoned out from his trance of thinking about you. Max slid into the seat you previously were, his bowl of chili still full, his eyebrows raised playfully at Joel. “Saw the patrol sheet, got your girl with me.”

Max always called men by their name and women as the “girl” of the person they were with. Joel quickly corrected him by saying your name.

“Whatever. She’s an interesting one, isn’t she? No hard feelings, man.”

This little shit can’t be serious. Joel thought to himself.

“Meaning?” Joel gruffed.

Max scooped into his bowl of chili, a heaping of meat on the spoon, he bit onto the metal and let out a theatrical moan. Not grandiose enough for people to look around and question, but the insinuation was enough to make Joel’s blood run hot.

“Quite the performance, huh?” He winks at Joel. Joel gets up with his food, his feigned laughter keeping Max confident enough to keep laughing and nudging at Joel. Joel grabs at his shoulder, tight enough for his nails to dig in.

“You make any kind of jokes like that tomorrow or ever again and you won’t have any legs to mount yourself on that god damn horse. Understood?”

Max meekly shook his head, causing Joel to dig his palm deeper into his shoulder blade.

“Yes?” He asked.

“Yes.” Max peeped out.

“Good. Now keep her and keep this town safe tomorrow.” Joel roughly released his shoulder, walking back to his home without a look back.

—---------------------------

The walk to Joel’s was always a peaceful one in the quiet calm of Jackson but tonight you couldn’t help but think about your conversation during dinner. Joel had nothing to worry about when it came to anyone else but if he had an ex that was even here you supposed you didn’t love the idea of them being alone and secluded together for a few hours.

“Hi!” You cheerily entered Joel’s house. You looked around to see if there was any sign of him, a knife on the counter and whittled wood; a guitar strewn around. But nothing.

You tip toed upstairs and heard water running. Joel always made the sweet gesture to draw you a bath whenever you came over, sometimes he’d strum the guitar above you or come in for his own fun. You saw him bent over the tub, sprinkling picked flowers into the water and felt yourself in awe of this man you loved.

“Am I interrupting something?” You quipped. Joel worked his way up from his knees and walked over to greet you with a deep kiss, lips warm and rough from a long day.

“Just wantin’ to make sure you’re nice and comfortable.” He grins, his lips down your neck as you tilt to invite him in further. He kisses near the spot of your clavicle that drives you crazy, peeling off your clothes piece by piece. Taking his time.

You didn’t realize Joel had moved you to the bed until you felt your back hit his sheets. His dakr eyes were focused on you as he moved down your stomach, planting soft kisses down your body until he stopped at your open legs.

You watch intently as he places his middle finger along your wet core. His pointer finger added to spread your folds to have you completely vulnerable in front of him. You looked down to see his soft brown eyes, meeting yours to gesture questioning. To make sure this is what you really wanted and you wouldn’t turn around and leave him.

You moved your hips to encourage him and he slips his middle finger fully inside of you, just one finger thick enough to still make you clench.

“Oh fuck.” Your breath hitches. “Keep going, Joel. Please.”

“Yes ma’am.” He adds his thumb to circle your clit, going in small circles, already panting out for release. Joel continued thrusting his fingers inside of you, positioning himself above you. That sweet vulnerability was gone and his eyes were darkened with lust.

His fingers shallowly thrusted inside of you while he planted kisses across your jaw, watching you as you panted and clenched from under him. The pressure was getting to be too much and you knew you couldn’t handle much more.

Joel positioned his finger deeper, bottoming out as he added two more fingers and thrusted fast. The sound of your wetness filled the room and he laid on top of you as he continued to work. You couldn’t take anymore, your lip biting at his shoulder.

Joel stopped so abruptly you were concerned something was wrong. You heard him pant in your ear so softly that you almost thought he fell asleep.

“Is everything okay?” You whispered. He sat himself up at the edge of the bed, avoiding your eyes.

“I’m sorry honey I just…I thought it was something else.”

“You thought my teeth were something else?” You repeated his words slowly, wanting to give him the grace to make up a better lie. He sat in silence for a moment..

“That idiot kid Max said somethin’ and I can’t get it out of my head. You’ve always done that with different guys?” Joel asked.

“Sometimes.” You shrugged, positioning yourself up to face him. You saw the cogs in his brain work, his eyes dejected.

“Joel, you seriously think you’re the same as Max?” You asked. “What the hell did he say to you? Do you want me to ask Tommy and Maria to get someone else to patrol with him tomorrow?”

“No, no, shit no.” The only thing Joel could think of that would be more embarrassing than what just happened would be telling his brother and sister-in-law that he didn’t want his girlfriend patrolling with his ex like a couple of high schoolers.

“Christ, I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this shit.” He turns to face you. “I just want what we have to be different.”

“It is.” You’re even more confused than before, how could he not realize that what you had was different? “I don’t want this to be some sort of stupid ego thing just because I do something in bed.”

“The prick just decided to let me know in a very vocal way.” Joel decided to tell you about what hat happened over dinner. You felt your face redden with embarrassment and your knuckles whiten from gripping the sheets in anger. This situation is exactly why you knew you deserved more than someone like Max.

“I’m so sorry he said that. God, that is so mortifying.” Now you couldn’t look at him. You felt his fingers tip your chin up as he gave you a gentle kiss.

“Baby, it’s not mortyfing that you do that. God knows I enjoy it I just…”

“Listen, I know you don’t like to go into full detail with your past. About Tess. About any women before. I know it had been a while for you and that it’s not easy living near the men I’ve been with. But I can tell you with full honesty that nobody can make me feel the way that you do.”

Joel rests his hand on your knee and looks at you through eyes crinkled with joy. “I know.”

“As far as the biting, I guess it’s just a habit.” You lower your voice. “But I can tell you right now that nobody has ever touched me the way that you have.”

“Is that so?” Joel huffs back. You move to position yourself on top of him, wrapping your hands in his peppered hair.

“You don’t want your bathwater to get cold.” Joel retorts, his hands moving down your back and onto the globes of your ass.

“We’ll draw a new one.” You grin. “Don’t you want me to show you how different you make me feel from anyone that’s ever gotten to touch me?”

He palms your ass as you grind into him, frustrated that he’s still clothed.

“Christ, woman.” Joel groans. You nip gently at his jaw, grinding your hips in slow circles already able to feel him from his jeans.

“Take this off.” You order, looking down at his shirt. You help him undo his buttons and throw it on the floor next to the bed. He grips your back and flips you over, laying you back on the bed and getting up to remove his pants and boxers. He was already hard for you as he made his way back to between your legs.

“I can’t just leave you like that, can I?” Joel’s eyes were blown with lust as he rubbed his thumb back onto your clit. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.”

“All for you, Joel.” You feel him tease his finger on your folds, not quite entering you just yet. “Please let me fuck your fingers.”

He enters several fingers into you, hooking them in that familiar spot that makes you gasp and arch. You’re already so close again and you can’t help but find a rhythm on his fingers.

“That’s right.” He growls. “Fuck my fingers, let me feel that pretty little pussy.”

It doesn’t take but a few moments for you to cum around his fingers, writing on the bed while he groaned under you. He tries to take the moment to grab you but you move from under him, motioning him to sit on the bed.

You take your time putting his heavy cock in your mouth, teasing it across your lips, your jaw and your breasts. You taste his salty precum as you suck on his tip and look up at Joel who’s staring down at you in awe.

“Do you think I could make you cum like this?” You ask him mischievously, knowing the anticipation is building and all you both wanted was to feel him inside of you. You lick up his shaft, his eyes never leaving you and he makes noises in complete bliss. You suck again at his tip, hard while you look up at him innocently.

When you take him in your mouth in full he lets out a long sigh. You can’t fit him entirely in your mouth, his tip already meeting the back of your throat. You try to work him down but what you can’t handle from your gag reflex you give shallow strokes.

You release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, strings of spit still bonding you. “Has anyone ever made you cum like this? Can I make you cum with your cock all the way down my throat?”

You put him in your mouth again for a few more minutes, moving fast and entering him deeper down your throat. You feel Joel’s hand shaking as it cradles the back of your head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Wait.” Joel pants. You stop, feigning innocence as you lick your fingers with your eyes still on him.

“Get back on top, pretty girl.” Joel whispers, his hand caressing your cheek. A welcomed tender moment in the middle of your desperate filth.

“Why don’t you show me how different I make you feel.” His eyes darken. You position yourself back on top of him, straddling him with your legs wide as you sink onto his cock. You bounced on your toes a few times, each time taking him deeper until he was fully inside of you.

The two of you take a moment, arms wrapped around each other as you breathed heavily, trying not to cum instantly with the way he was filling you up. You broke away from the embrace, looking down at Joel and his dark brown eyes. You saw that vulnerability again. Somehow you knew that even though he’d done this before with other women had he ever opened up like this? Even just with a look?

You placed your hand on his broad chest and started to move, finding your pace as you felt his cock hit spots you couldn’t reach. His hands cupped your ass helping guide you.

“Do you feel how different you are now?” You whispered to him, riding him so he could enter you deep at each thrust. “Do you feel how fucking good you make me feel? How this is your pussy and nobody else’s?”

Joel fucks you harder, digging his fingers harder into your ass, spreading you out so he could thrust upwards. His fingers get closer to your ass, finding him starting to finger around the tight ring of your asshole.

“Has anyone ever fucked here, pretty girl?” He grunted. You shook your head, unable to talk just wanting to focus on how full his cock made you.

“Nobody.” You said through gritted teeth. “It’s all yours. I want you to.”

“Not tonight but soon.” Joel pants, not sure how much he could take now that he knew he had the privilege of fucking your ass. “Gonna fuck every part of you and make it mine.”

“Fuck, Joel. Don’t stop.” You whined, your fingers digging into his skin.

“Gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Cum all over my cock.” Joel said. You rode him to a fast pace and when he took one of his thumbs to rub your clit as you rode him you came hard. Your pussy clenched his cock with a hard grip.

“Fuck.” Joel rests his head on your forehead as he spills inside of you, releasing his warmth and bucking up until he has nothing left.

He leans back onto the bed, bringing you with him as you position yourself to laying your head on his chest. The two of you laid in silence, your heavy breathing filling the air and his arms surrounding you.

“I think that wore me out for the night. I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to wake up early tomorrow morning.” You pant.

“I did good?” Joel kissed your forehead.

“That’s an understatement.” You looked up at him, planting a soft kiss on his lips. You looked long and hard at the man you loved. Sure, he’s got a dark past, he could be stubborn and he could attempt to put a wall up, but you knew he was the best man you’ve ever known despite it all. There was nobody else you would rather be with and nowhere else you’d rather be.

“So what you’re saying is it’s not too late to cancel patrol with that prick?” Joel muttered.

You playfully elbowed his ribs. Joel pulled you in tighter as you embraced him.

“Oh hush.” You giggled. “Now come and take a bath with me.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice.

[moonalumi]

Heyy, I’ve literally never requested anything but I can’t get enough of your farm Ellie fics 😭🙏🏽 sooo, I was thinking about farm Ellie who fucks you on every surface of the house. Like everywhere. She doesn’t care, when, where, or how. On the dinner table? Why not. While your kitchen counter? Ofc. Literally in the barn? Definitely! (I literally can’t write smut, thats why I’m requesting😭) this has just been in my mind. Idk Somthin to think about. 🫶🏽

OHMYGODDDS THISS

[nsfw 18+]

ellie who can’t seem to keep her hands off you while you cook dinner. begging to lick up and down your folds. stating that, you don’t have to cook because my dinner is right here” while she grips your hips and pushes up against your ass.

during dinner she messily moves everything aside and sits you down on top of the table, muttering filth into your ear as she fucks deep into you with her strap.

“mm fuckk baby see what you do to me? couldn’t even wait til after dinner to fuck you dumb”

you clawing at her shoulders and back as your pussy clams her in, juices gushing out with every thrust. “ellieee … i- m-making a mess” you whine looking down at where her strap disappears inside you.

“you gonna clean that up huh? we eat here, god baby control yourself” ellie degrades. her speeding up when your legs shake around her waist. your pussy dribbling spurts of wetness onto her and the table.

to which ellie helps you clean up cause she’s such a sweetheart. <33

okay now imagine ellie working all day outside. she just let out all the animals out the barn and you happily prepare some fresh lemonade for her and practically skipping over in a dress to where she’s working in the barn.

ellie takes one look at you and is already smiling, “hey baby you look so beautiful.”

handing her the lemonade and a kiss on the cheek, you cuddle into your girlfriend. “thank you but you look so much better especially when your out of breath and sweaty.” you tease and slither your hand up her shirt causing ellie to choke on the drink.

“don’t you start, you always tease me like this and then make me wait until bed to fuck you” she says slapping your hand away as it trails farther up her shirt.

you laugh, “mm it’s just fun to tease you cause you never do anything about it, you’re the one who makes yourself wait”

raising an eyebrow, ellie gets closer to you “oh so i could fuck you right here, right now if i wanted to?”

you look at her confused and look around, “in the barn? why not insid-“

ellie rolls her eyes and cuts you of with her lips, kissing you roughly and sloppily. her damp skin sticking to yours.

her needy hands gripping your ass and roughly turning you around. causing the kiss to end with a big shmack. a gasp leaves your lips when you turn your head to see ellie on her knees. pupils dilated as she lifts your dress up and spreads your ass so your pussy is in full view of her piercing eyes. moving your panties aside, her tongue hungrily licks up from your hole to your clit.

“ohmygod ellieeee your so dirty” you moan out and desperately search for something to grip.

ellie moans into you as she burries her face between your thighs. hands skimming up and down your shaky legs. her tongue pushing against your walls which pull her in. ellie can never get enough of the way your pussy loves her.

[sunflowersteves]

when you're gone || j.m.

pairing || joel miller x f!reader

summary || Jackson, Wyoming was supposed to be a calm and quiet town. Joel wasn't so sure when he wakes up alone after another unbearable nightmare.

author's note || without @themarcusmoreno, this fic would not have been made so I thank ash a thousand times for enabling me into writing soft joel comfort with some filth!! and tbh, i think i have an addition to soft!joel so i hope you all enjoy (especially after that episode). also yes, i may have gotten the title from the cranberries song!!

warnings || nightmares, ptsd, apocalypse ptsd, pure disgusting fluff, hurt/comfort, joel needs a break so i'm giving him one, soft!joel, SMUT, oral sex, blowjob, praise kink, [18+ only!!]

masterlist

In Wyoming, it was a quiet and peaceful night. The crickets chirped, and the cold icy wind blew against the logged cabins. Everyone in Jackson was under the cloudy haze of a tranquil slumber, and so were the trees as they gently swayed underneath the stars. 

In a quaint cabin, Joel was mumbling in his sleep. A dark shadow cast over him from the troubles of his active mind. His eyebrows furrowed in despair, and his cheeks were hot from the pain that shot through his chest. He could picture her. He could picture you. He could picture Ellie. A sharp cry and scream thwarted against his eardrums, and he panicked. 

His eyes snapped open in an instant, and his chest heaved at the alarm that spread across his chest and down to the pits of his stomach. He looked around the room—his eyes frantic. An old chair, a bookshelf, and a pile of clothes. 

A nightmare. Just a nightmare. 

He turned to look over at the silhouette of your form under the covers, but his heart froze once more as you weren’t even there. 

You were gone. 

It struck deep inside him—empty and sullen—as the questions started to roll over one another. Where are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you alive?

He didn’t waste any time by putting some pants over his boxers or taking his flannel. He just needed to run. The strong pads of his feet hit the floorboards, and he sauntered down the stairs. He had to find you. 

He needed to find you. 

The pure, hard feeling of desperation rose in his throat. His hands were shaking by his sides as he whipped around the archway that leads into the living room. His eyes scanned every crevice of the room—starting from the tall bookshelves and guitar stand that sat in the back corner. Then, he saw it. He saw the movement of a hand flipping over a page in a book. 

You.

He let out a big puff of air, the relief washing him over like a cold splash of water to his face. You were safe. You were okay. He could feel the panic rush out of his chest, and pure adoration sunk in between his heart and his lungs. Just you.

He watched, quietly, at the soft rise and fall of your chest. The hand that wasn’t holding the book in your lap was tapping gently on the edge of the sofa.

A lukewarm cup of tea, the one you most likely forgot from the riveting pages, sat on the coffee table in front of you. Your eyes rapidly scanned each individual page, and your lips pursed into a small smile. 

He could tell you were reading a Jane Austen novel. You always had the same expression when you were reading Pride & Prejudice, Emma, or Persuasion. Your left brow would always twitch when you got to a familiar scene that you had read a million times before. 

He suddenly could feel the warm breath of a calm mind take over his body. He felt like he could relax now. You’re here. You’re safe. You’re alive. 

As if you feel his soft stare, your eyes turn to his—your smile even larger than before. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, handsome?”

He doesn’t say anything. His mouth doesn’t even form a smile. He wasn’t sure he could. While his body relished in the feeling of relief, the whiplash of feelings that swirled around in his head was starting to get to him. 

“Joel?”

Your eyes turned cloudy with concern, and now his heart sank just a little. He didn’t want to make you feel worried. The last thing he wanted to do was open a deep wound in your chest like the one that settled in his. 

He quietly sat down next to you, arms pulling in your shoulders, so your back lay rested against his chest. You sat the book down on the coffee table right before making home into his arms.

He breathed in deep, familiar senses of your own musk and the spices you had been picking earlier that day. Rosemary, bay leaves, and parsley were your favorite plants in the garden that Ellie had asked you to build. 

You sat there for just a moment, knowing that he needed to take his time. Joel was never a man of words. He was silent and calculating, watching everyone and anything around him.

You were one of his soft spots over the years—you and Ellie—but his hardened heart still prevented him from allowing his deepest affections to shine through. So, when his thoughts came barrelling down on top of him, he needed the time to articulate them. You would always patiently wait for him, each and every time. 

“Had another nightmare.” He paused, noticing the small intake of your breath. He could tell that you felt bad for waking up in the middle of the night and not being there for him. “Woke up alone.” 

He chose his words carefully. He didn’t want to say, “woke up, and you weren’t there.” In truth, you weren’t, but he knew you had insomnia. He knew that he wasn’t the only one suffering under this roof from the dangerous, violent, and pure aching pain that the world had caused. 

“Joel—Baby—” God, you were too good for him. You were a badass throughout all of the years of fighting and violence, yet your heart shined brighter than ever, just for him and Ellie. 

He whispered just under his breath, “I had the same nightmare. I know you’re there. I know Ellie’s there. I know Sarah’s there—” He shakes his head. “—But I can never find you. Any of you.”

He can picture the frown that forms on your pretty, plump lips. It wasn’t your fault. You know that. You couldn’t have known, but the burning guilt in your chest wants to say otherwise. Your hand grabs onto his own, which is splayed across your abdomen, and you squeeze—making sure that he knew you were here. 

“I’ll never go anywhere, Joel. Not without you.”

A deep, crackling affection sprouted in his chest at your affirmation. He could almost smile—bright and pearly white. His worn heart thumped loudly against his chest, surely pumping loudly against your shoulder blade. 

“I know, darlin’. My brain is just funny sometimes.” His lips crack just a little at the snort he was able to pull from your nose. 

“Hell of a way to put it, Miller.”

After a couple of beats of silence, you bite your lip—contemplating whether you should act on what your brain was currently concocting. You knew that Joel wouldn’t be able to sleep for the rest of the night, and by default, you wouldn’t, either.

You could tell he was still lost in the faraway lands of his mind. His eyes were glossy and dazed. You knew he was, in no doubt, trying to unsee the darkest parts of his nightmares.

You decide to say fuck it, and you attempt to untangle Joel’s arms from yours. You hear a disapproving grunt from the man behind you, followed by another confused sound when you started to leave the couch.

“Darlin’, where are you—” His question dies on his tongue, though, all while you sink down onto your knees. His eyes are blown wide—dark pupils dilating under the soft glow of the eucalyptus candle you started to burn earlier. 

You give your best innocent smile. By the way his lips open just a smidge, you knew your idea was a good one. “Wanna take care of you, Joel.”

You bite your lip, sinking your teeth into the plump skin, and he curses under his breath. “Will you let me take care of you, handsome?” Your palms flatten across his splayed-out thighs, and you rub back and forth. He could feel his boxers become tighter as you wait for his answer. “Hmm?”

His body involuntarily leans back so he could sink further and further into the couch. His body acts, once again, before his mind can even comprehend the pure lust and desire he has for you. His hips jump forward to allow your soft hands to shuffle his boxers down and pool around his legs. 

Finally, he says, “please.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

You grab a hold of his half-hard member, and he groans at the sight of you practically drooling for his cock. Your eyes are glistening with such lust, and he sees that speckled look of love that fills them.

His own eyes are dark and heavy-lidded as you press a couple of sweet kisses on his inner thigh—causing him to jerk. You pump his cock a few times, jaw slacking at the pre-cum that is already dribbling against his tip.

“Darlin’.” He gasps.

He watches as you wrap your soft lips around his head. He can feel his cock twitch and become harder—pleasure throbbing against his bulging veins. “F-Fuck, just like that. Yes.”

You flatten your tongue along his ruddy tip and then swirl in between his crying slit. “Fuckin’ mouth on you, I—” He lets out small puffs of air, teeth biting his lower lip in pleasurable agony. If it weren't for his fat cock in your mouth, you definitely would have smiled at the praise. He moans, almost as if he could feel it. 

"Joel—baby—so needy."

Joel was pretty sure he could die happy, right with your lips on his cock because when you rasp that out, there was a bead of your saliva and his pre-cum connected to your lips.

His knees twitch in between you, not being able to help it. He drags his hand to the nape of your neck and squeezes the base of it. “Takin’ care of me so fuckin’ well. My pretty girl—suckin’ my cock.” His words slur together with each syllable of his honeyed Texas accent.

The soft cries and whimpers that leave his mouth are really addicting—your hand squeezes against the base of his thigh from wanting more. 

"You taste so good, Joel. 'm—I love you. I love your cock."

You bop your head even lower—esophagus spasming at the pure thickness of Joel. No matter how many times your sweet cunt or stretched mouth took him, you were never used to his swollen size. 

You hum against him as you feel the sticky substance of pre-cum leak from his tip and onto your tongue—salty and earthy. His hips sputter slightly upward, lips cursing up a storm. “Oh-fuck-fuck. C-Can’t–ugh–can’t take much longer, sweet girl.” 

His body almost shutters from the drool he feels slowly drip down to his balls. Your mouth is warm and balmy, slick tongue working excellently against his hardened shaft. He gasps out your name, mixed in with one of his pet names for you. 

He lets himself become lost between the soft pillows of you and your expert tongue that brings him to the brink of pleasure. He lets the stiff trauma that makes his shoulders and muscle tense slowly wash off of him. “Love when you suck my cock, yeah, f-fuck—my pretty girl takin’ care of my fuckin’ cock.”

His mouth hangs open as you hollow your cheeks and suck on his ruddy tip before shoving your throat back down to the base of his cock. He wasn’t sure how he was sane at this moment—watching the saliva drop from his cock down to his balls—as he was throbbing with pleasure. 

His head drops back onto the couch, and he moans and whimpers out your name. It stays on his tongue—repeating over and over as if it was the only thing that ever mattered in the world. He feels his tummy squeeze, thighs tensing and pulsating as he feels that familiar coil tighten. “Oh, baby—darlin’—my girl—”

You suck in, swirling your tongue just over his slit once more, and he gruffs out a gasp. "Fuck, I love you, I love you, I love you—" Thick beads of cum spew to the back of your throat—causing you to gag. His cum rolls over as his cock twitches and spurts in your mouth. 

You swallow every drop that Joel gives you—gulping it down on his shaft. He was already sensitive, cock already softening, but the whimper that left his mouth seemed one of ecstasy.

You relent, though. Your jaw was a little sore, and you had a feeling Joel was going to want to return the favor. You unhinge your mouth from him with a small ‘pop’ and pat his knee in affection. 

“Feel better, handsome?”

“Loads.” He snorts. “Literally.”

You roll your eyes, getting up from the floor and taking your usual seat on his thighs. “Hilarious, Miller. Real funny.” You were happy, though. You were able to give him the distraction he deserves.

His smile never settles as he pulls you into him. A weight had lifted onto his chest at the true realization that you’re here.

You’re with him.

You’ve alive.

You’re here. 

Joel knew that the nightmare would haunt him for a long time, but for now, you are all he needs.

[canaidliafail]

roommates

Abby x f!reader x ellie 🌿 2.1k words

listen idk what demon possessed me but I had to write about a threeway relationship with ellabs in a college AU. Its just random scenes of what it would be like and theres filth so MDI

CW: voyerism I think, jealousy and abby and ellie being unhinged over reader [ like srsl ] , established relationship, mentions of alcohol & dealer ellie. not proof read, will never be. Say a prayer and go ahead and read idk

“In a moment you're getting the shivers

'Cause I know the way you feel

My body gives you chills”

•••

In college, rumors went around fast. Everyone knew that Cindy from chem had relapsed for the third time that year, that Alexander had hooked up with every exchange student, that Abby was probably that richest kid in the entire campus and that Ellie was the hottest lesbian dealer that lived in dormitory B5.

That along with the fact that Abby, Ellie and you were roommates. Manny and Dina had, on different occasions tried to get a hold of you and fill you in on how hot the gossip on the three of you were but it just failed to entertain you enough to listen.

You didn’t give a fuck actually. You were so blissfully content with your reality that you weren’t interested in knowing what everyone else's half assed version sounded like. Your girlfriends though were different. Abby and Ellie had the inseparable dynamic of oil and water. They just did not get along but they did find common sense when it came to you and they had to know what was going on. Blind and deep in love they forgot how they themselves were a prize and considered most people who approached you a threat.

Abby vaguely remembered a rumor when you three first started going out after Jesse's birthday. Ellie was the supplier that night and the girl that came by your dorm to pick up the stuff caught you two making out in the hallway. Ellie was a bit more flustered to be caught like that while you just rolled your eyes as if she was the problem invading your public space and walked inside your room, though back then, the girl assumed you were staying over at Ellie’s place. In the span of a week,the whole art department knew that Ellie allegedly had a girlfriend. That was until someone interrupted the conversation

“Wait, is Ellie's girl the one in sculpture ?You know she has a lot of tattoos and talks with Nora a lot?”

“Yeah her!”

“Well than she has to be cheating on her cause I saw her In Anderson's car the other night and they were like,going at it”

So other than “that girl with tattoos in sculpture major” you were also “The one two timing Ellie and Abby”

Abby didn’t know how much of a hot topic she was. She knew people talked but not about her. She was cooking and ellie was smoking weed on the kitchen counter keeping her company when you barged in your dorm room.

“You have to hear this” You said excitedly and tossed your bag on the couch and your shoes all over the hallway which Abby being a clean freak knew would have to organize by herself later that evening. You run up to them in the kitchen and Ellie out of habit spread her legs to let you in her space for a kiss. Which you didn’t really give but instead you took her blunt and took one long good puff.

“So I was talking with my friends and apparently there’s this rumor going around that I am cheating on Ellie williams with Abby anderson”

Abby stilled her hand while working with the pan and the stir fry food and she turned to look at Ellie the same moment that she did. They came to a silent agreement to solve this issue which you found quite embarrassing to think over in the first place. You couldn’t take problems like these seriously and hell, who doesn’t have people talking shit behind their back ?

“Oh c'mon don’t tell me you are mad” You whined and abby turned around to cup your cheek,gently caressing you

“Doesn’t it bother you? That they are doing this?”

“It would but thats so much effort and like…oh my fucking god who caresssss” You drew out and left to go rest on the couch.

“Can’t you two just… make out the next time you are on campus or something ? That will solve things or whatever”

And they did. Not because you told them to, but at some point abby had to help Ellie’s scrawny ass carry some fresh wood planks to her working space in class to build a new canvas and before they parted ways she did kiss her on the lips, hard and long and then she left to attend her own lectures. The rumors didn’t die but people had a rough idea of what was going on now.

________

Abby loved eating you out continuously and tirelessly. She would come to a pussydrunk state where she would lazily lap up at your pussy like she was starving and despite wanting to take the reins and be more commanding,her skill rendered you weak and helpless and a moaning mess, and when you were voiceless from the pleasure your soft sighs did the job for her. And that's when usually Ellie would come strapped up and take you right after Abby was finished devouring your puffy cunt.

Abby unbuckled her belt with a heavy clank once the metal clasp snapped open that signified it was your turn to please which had you licking your lips eager to taste her. Ellie pushed you on all fours and slapped your thighs as indication to spread them apart and got into position behind you admiring your ass for a good few seconds while Abby sat in front of you, legs spread and a cigarette in hand taunting you to go ahead.

You usually took your time,biting her freckled thighs and leaving a path of bruising bitemarks which had her groan in fake protest most of the time. You pressed your palms flat against her legs and moved your head closer to her cunt,your nose buried in the trimmed blonde hair as you licked a flat thick stripe that had Abby flinch in pleasure. Ellie took her moment to slowly slide in her new thick strap toy in you

“Abby prepared you so well for my cock, fuck look at it just sliding in”

Abby was loud, Ellie was vocal, and you loved the combination of the two in bed.

Abby would hold your hair up,a string of praises falling from her lips and ellie would lean in leaving kisses on your back as she thrusted her hips in a pace that fastened every minute enjoying how well you took her every time.

__________

You rarely left the apartment alone since your schedules matched with one of your girlfriends. However on the sparse occasion that you did, you always found yourself in trouble.

You stepped out of the room and were busy locking the door when you heard a girl behind you scoff. You turned to look at the unpleasant figure who hoarded the space and you smirked

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah how about you keep it down at night?”

She snapped, aiming to shame you. She wasn’t wrong. Last night was something else. When you and Abby dominated Ellie at the same time it usually ended up in the rest of the dormitory having a poor night. It was a bit homophobic in your opinion to only target you when there was Manny, one floor above you being just as rowdy with his girlfriend.

You smiled and leaned against the wall effectively walking into her personal space. She froze on the spot and looked up at you. You weren’t tall but you were tall enough to use it to your advantage at times like these

“Aren’t you the girl who tried to get into Ellies pants on Jesse's birthday?”

She frowned and quirked her mouth in disgust

“You are so delusional”

You looked into her eyes,down to her lips and then slowly fixed a crooked fold on her shoulder pads from her shirt

“Am I though? You pathetic cunt, if you came for a fight at least follow through” She tensed,lost and unsure on how to handle this situation when Abby walked out of the door and yanked you away from the girl like a wet cat, holding your arm in a way that it made it look like she only tried to get a hold of your backpack to slide it on her own shoulders. To you, it was a warning, to the stranger it seemed like a gesture of affection.

“Wait for me in my car. I'll drive you” she said and passed you her keys. You left, unbothered and entertained enough for the rest of the day. Abby however glared at the girl and stalked over, towering over her like a hawk in a much more aggressive manner than you did and she seemed to shrink in on herself

“If you talk to her again I'll make sure you end up on the streets. If you insult her, you might even have to retake the exams for a different college” she barked and left.

You were in Abby’s car and had turned the heater on and were already looking at what song to put on from the speakers. She sat on the driver's seat and grabbed your phone

“Hey!”

“What the fuck was that” she growled and you rolled your eyes and leaned your head against the window

“I don’t get why you take everything so personally” You whispered and she carefully put a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. You turned your head and she pulled you in for a kiss, her hand on the nape of your neck. She lingered there to keep you close and rubbed her thumb in a straight line against your spine,the soft gesture contradicting her stern tone

“You need to learn to apologize. That attitude was completely unprovoked”

“Didn’t you hear what she said?”

“I did and I expected you to handle it better than that”

You looked at each other and eventually you agreed and let out a small and curt sorry to show remorse which she half accepted as a first step to changing your actions. Abby, no matter how in the wrong you were, would always have your back in public and would only scold you when she knew you had privacy and were alone and that was something you loved about her.

You smiled and wrapped your arms around her neck and went to kiss her before moving down to her neck to leave new bitemarks near Ellie’s

“You are insatiable”

“You are hot when you are mad at me babygirl '' You teased and watched as Abby's cheeks took a new shade of pink.

__________

Abby and Ellie weren’t exactly opposite forces but they did not blend either, So when you had walked in on them making out on the couch with Abby on top of Ellie you had to take a photo silently stalking in from the corridor. You loved watching them please each other. There weren’t many times that you caught them in the midst of it but when you did you did everything within your power to stay silent and just enjoy the view. That was until your phone betrayed you with the shallow “click” that hinted at a photo being taken.

Abby pulled away first,lips a new hue of red trying to steady herself on the armrest while ellie took a moment to fix her tousled short hair.She looked at you and you never thought doe eyes could look so menacing and mischievous .

“Enjoying the show?”

You walked in and stood in front of the couch, arms crossed as you leaned against the wall

“Absolutely. Go on”

Ellie pulled abby back in for another kiss clearly to horny to entertain this conversation and sucked on her lower lip in need. She followed Ellie’s lead and pushed her lower on the cushions of the sofa moaning into the kiss. Ellie was a good kisser and she knew it, and just imagining how good abby felt had you sitting on the sofa across the couch and spreading your legs to make yourself comfortable knowing you would soon have to slide your hand in your pants to release the building tension in your stomach.

___________

Ellie and Abby got along as roommates but not as people. Ellie kept to herself and in their shared space which was the living room she only had a tray with her smoking gear and a bag of weed but otherwise she didn’t cram the space with any other items. Abby liked plants and Ellie found them to be a decent choice for decor and that was that. Dormitory B5 was known for having nicer and more spacious rooms. Abby was rich and Ellie’s side hustle made her comfortable enough. In the first two years of them living together they talked occasionally and they knew each other's friend group. They did bond once over their shitty ex’s and Abby appreciated Ellie’s seriousness when she came out to her confused and convinced that she was perhaps a lesbian. That was it though. In the second semester of their second year however you moved in. Abby told Ellie that if they didn’t like their new roommate she could easily pull a few strings to have you out but that was thrown out of the window once they saw you.

You took up all of their space, You had pottery items in Abby’s room when you wanted to show her something and eventually forget them there, and you had left your makeup on Ellies desk because you often sat there since, in your words “The sun coming from your window is so much better than mine”

The living room now was full of posters and you insisted on having to spend time together at least on Saturdays. You were comfortable and your comfort made them relax as well. Ellie of course knew what it was. She wanted you and she was head over heels for you and all of that was sealed when she came to your apartment after a shitty 3 hour art history lecture to find you making dinner for everyone. You also had a gift for her

“Remember how you told me about that comic ? So funny story, my friend actually was getting rid of his collection since he is moving out and I asked him to give them to me so here you go”

Ellie actually cried that night, moved by your gesture and when she saw you now all she heard in her mind was “wife wife wife”

But Ellie wasn’t the only one. Abby had magically shifted her entire schedule in a way that whenever you had a free day she had one as well and she would be in the apartment with you.

Abby had never felt lust like this before. If she couldn’t own the wind she wanted to at least tame it and dance with it for a while.

The two of them talked and somehow came to a mutual understanding that if you were to choose either of them they would be peaceful about it. Another silent agreement that they took however was to make sure you would end up with either of them and not someone else.

The first time it happened, all three of you were drunk out of your minds blasting music from the speakers and played a raunchy card game that Abby didn’t even remember if it existed in the first place. One thing led to another and suddenly you found yourself in your underwear only, fondling Ellies chest while nibbling on her neck and Abby pressed against your back, her hand under your panties fingering you while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Just like you moving in and settling into their lives, a relationship between the three of you occurred just as naturally since you felt like the missing link that they needed to connect.

————-

Ellie was unhinged and she was aware of it and it was one of the things that she didn’t care to fix. not when Abby was a jock who flaunted her wealth and threatened with it and certainly not when she saw how aroused you were every time she brought her butterfly knife in the bedroom.

However she also knew that sometimes she took it too far.

She once overheard a guy in your major fawn over you in the most grotesque way, salivating over the fact that you wore a dress that accentuated your ass in all the right ways, and the low v front cut of the top showed your sternum tattoos in a “provocative way”

Ellie was no better than a man because she had noticed all those things herself which was why she ate you out in the elevator that morning and caused the entire building to believe that it was out of service for 36 minutes. However when Ellie thought of that it was different. So she leaned against the door and played with her knife, carrying them around campus under the excuse that she needed them to sharpen her coals for her artworks, even though she carried them for very different situations that she wasn’t shamed to admit that she made use of. She didn’t say anything but when they noticed her staring they did turn around to face her the same time that you were ready to leave. You walked up to her oblivious to the tension around her and went in for a small greeting peck that she turned into a french kiss with her hands on your ass pulling you closer. She lifted one hand to cradle your head and looked at the guy across the hall challenging him to continue his fruitless attempts to hit on you to which he just frowned and looked away confused and in disgust.

That night, when you were blissfully asleep on Abby’s chest she mentioned what happened to her in a tone that indicated that she planned on handling it herself. Ellie knew though, that if word of a situation like that reached Abby’s ears the guys would probably either end up kicked out of campus at best, hospitalised at worst.

••••

heres my ko-fi tip jar if you enjoy my work 🤍

[tightjeansjavi]

𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐃𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐫.𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫?

Part 2: “Chains and Whips Excite Me”

Joel Miller x f! reader NSFW 🔞

A/N: so originally I was not going to write a part 2 to this little slice of sub! Joel heaven but then the idea struck me today so I was like fuck it! Let’s roll with it. I gotta say, this is beyond filthy. The end has SO much fluff it’s got me giggling and kicking my feet like a little girl. Enjoy! 🫶🏻

~word count: 6.1k~

Summary: Joel really enjoyed the last time you took control so much, that he wants you to do it again. This time, with the proper tools.

Warnings: smut with no plot, established relationship, sub/switch! Joel!, dom/switch reader, consensual power play, use of a safe word, BDSM, bondage, whip play, collar play, edging, teasing, praise kink, handcuffs, Joel doesn’t like being a sub but he does it for you, till the cuffs snap of course, reader calls Joel a good boy, dominatrix vibe till the cuffs snap, pussy eating, unprotected p in v, (wrap it kids) rough consensual sex, light choking, overstimulation, lots of filth, sex toys, very short game of cat and mouse, consent, heavy after care, Joel feels bad for overstimulating you, all the feels, no angst, just a whole lot of debauchery, fluff at the end with you, Joel and Ellie the next morning (+18), NSFW MINORS DNI!

“Joel? Baby? Where the actual fuck are you taking me?” Your eyes were blindfolded with a thick piece of fabric but you were acutely aware of your lover's close proximity to you. His hands were at your waist, guiding you protectively to…well, wherever the hell he was taking you.

“Easy now, sugar. We’re almost there.” His lips were at the shell of your ear and his warm Texas drawl sent shivers down your spine.

“This isn’t where you murder me..right?” You nervously giggled.

“What? Ain’t no way—you’re bein’ silly baby. Why on earth would I do somethin’ like that?” He responded incredulously.

“Okay okay. I’m just checking because you brought me god no’s where. Y’know, I think it was just a logical thing for me to ask.”

Joel chuckled deeply, his warmth breath tickling the sensitive skin below your ear. “Yeah well trust me, baby. You’re gonna love where I brought you.” He reassured you.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll see about that Miller.”

Joel had grasped your hips firmly in his calloused hands, yanking you back against his chest before he took one hand and brought it around your face and untied the makeshift blindfold. “Surprise.” He whispered, a grin spreading across his lips.

You blinked a few times as your eyes readjusted to the lighting and after a few seconds you realized he had brought you to an abandoned mall. Your eyes drifted up to the faded moss covered sign that read Spencer's.

“Oh my god, you’re joking right?” You said in disbelief as you turned and looked over your shoulder at your grinning man. “Joel, you know what this place is right?”

“Do I know what this place is? Honey, I’m old but I ain’t that old. I had a girlfriend back in highschool that dragged me to this place before prom night. She wore one of those candy bras and matching thongs. She wanted to put me in a collar and I said absolutely fuckin’ not.” He chuckled as he watched your reaction.

“Are you purposely bringing up your ex-girlfriend from highschool to make me jealous? You remember what happened the last time I got jealous?” You responded with a light giggle.

“Oh baby, do I remember? Fuck yeah I do. Why the hell do ya think I brought ya out here in the first place?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively in your direction before he gave you a firm nudge forward.

“You sly fucking dog. You want me to tie you up again?” You gave him a playful glare as he nudged you forward into the store that took you right on back to the early 2000’s.

“Yeah baby, I do. Figured it would be way more fun if you had the proper tools y’know?” He followed closely behind, stepping over moth eaten shirts and moldy backpacks. You both seemingly knew that what you were looking for was in the far back of the store.

Your eyes zoned in on the bondage section immediately and Joel fought the urge to roll his eyes when you picked up a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs and twirled them playfully around your finger. “How do you feel about these, big boy?”

“Jesus Christ. Do they really gotta be pink? I swear to god if Tommy—or god forbid Ellie finds ‘em, I might actually have to kill ya after all sweet cheeks.”

“Baby, you can use them on me too y’know? I don’t think we have to worry about your brother or adopted daughter finding our stuff Joel. Relax, honey.” You shot him a playful wink.

Joel grumbled under his breath, saying something unintelligible as he crossed his arms over his chest with a huff.

You had picked up a black riding crop that had a red heart stitched on the faux leather. You couldn’t help but teasingly drag the crop across his chest with a giggle. “What about this baby? You into me whipping you a little?” You looked up at him, lashes fluttering as you lightly tapped the crop against his bulging bicep.

“How can I say no when you’re lookin’ at me with those goddamn eyes?” He uncrossed his arms from his chest, bringing his thumb and forefinger against your smooth chin before he stole a quick kiss.

“Mhm these eyes that make any man go weak in the knees, but especially my man.” You hummed against his lips, kissing him back sweetly before slipping the crop into his hands along with the pink fluffy handcuffs.

“Look, my only request is that you don’t get any nipple clamps…well, unless you wanna use them on you, and please god nothing that would hurt my balls.”

“Oh baby, you’re so cute. You’re not down for a little nipple play?” You were already reaching for a packaged pair of nipple clamps as you fluttered your lashes at him once more.

“Fuckin’ hell. Fine, you little minx.” He grumbled.

You blew your man a kiss before tossing the small packaged nipple clamps into his hands. “So, I know you said that you wouldn’t let your ex girlfriend put you in a collar..but what if it were me asking you? Would your answer be different?”

Joel’s mouth went dry as you innocently were holding a black spiked collar that had a metal heart connecting in the middle. He watched as you twirled the chain between your fingers, swinging it back and forth. “I’m really startin’ to regret tellin’ ya that story.” Even though the thought of you yanking him around like a leashed dog, was undeniably turning him on just a bit.

“Are you sure you’re regretting telling me that story baby?” You softly cooed as you stepped towards him. “Because just close your eyes, just for a moment. Now, I want you to picture me handcuffing you to a chair. I want you picturing me putting this collar on you while I slide up and down your thick cock. You can feel every inch of my pussy on you baby. Can you picture that?” You purred and Joel just about folded right then and there.

“Fuck me darlin.’” He rasped out, his voice sounding slightly strained as the images of you riding him deliciously settled into his brain. Your fingers wrapped around the chain, tugging on it so he’s looking up at you. Calling him a good boy—

“We’ll get to that part baby I promise. Now I think we have just about everything I need..is there anything you’d like to grab?”

Joel was already making a b-line for the lingerie section, of course. He loved seeing you naked but god, to see you wearing one of these little numbers just for him? It would surely be the end of him.

You watched in pure amusement as your man grabbed various different lingerie sets. He looked like a kid in a fucking candy shop with how excited he was.

“You’re not wasting any time. Huh cowboy?” You giggled.

“Absolutely fuckin’ not darlin.’ It ain’t everyday I get to see my girl dressed up in lingerie. Man’s fantasy fuckin’ come true.” He moved to the sex toy section, humming to himself as he grabbed a purple wand that was marked as waterproof along with a few packs of batteries that (hopefully) would still work. “Don’t think this comes into any comparison of what my tongue is capable of, but I think we can have a little fun with this honey. It’s waterproof too.” He shot you a wink.

You rolled your eyes playfully at his comment of a vibrator being no match for his tongue. “Yeah? Well, keep eating pussy like a man starved, and there definitely will be no comparison.”

“Ain’t got no reason to not eat your pussy that way, sweet cheeks.” He chuckled as he grabbed a couple bottles of lube and suction cup dildo.

“What the hell are we gonna need lube for Joel?”

“You never know darlin.’ We might find ourselves needin’ it one of these days. Better to be prepared, right?”

“You’re not sticking it in my ass Miller. There’s no fucking way.” You slid your backpack off your shoulder as you packed it filled with the things from the sex store.

“Who the hell said anythin’ about me stickin’ it in your ass?” He grinned at your immediate reaction.

“Oh bullshit. You’re totally fucking bluffing baby.”

Joel just gave you a little shrug as he zipped up his bag. Before leaving the store, and while he wasn’t paying attention, you grabbed a t-shirt that said “I Love My Lesbian Daughter” and stuffed it in your bag. Ellie was going to fucking love this.

The ride back to Jackson was filled to the brim with laughter and sexual tension. Dinner in the mess hall was quick and you and Joel were both relieved that Ellie was going over to Dina’s for the evening. Joel still hadn’t caught onto the fact that his kid was dating Dina but Ellie had told you one night but you swore to her that you wouldn’t tell Joel.

Your man was having a quick, head clearing shower while you placed the folded t-shirt on the end of Ellie’s bed with a little note.

You used the spare bathroom to put on one of the many lingerie sets that Joel had picked out for you. This set was pretty, lacy, and would in no doubt drive Joel up a fucking wall once he saw you in it. The top was a laced up bodice, and the cups barely contained your breasts that were nearly spilling over the top of the fabric. You paired it with the black stockings that had delicate lace that sat at the top of your thighs. You attached the two clips to the garter and surely they were not built to withstand much pressure at all. The matching black thong left little to the imagination as the tooth floss thin fabric sat perfectly between your cheeks.

Heels would have been ideal to finish off this look but you stuck with your usual boots knowing that Joel would enjoy seeing you in them.

As soon as you could hear the water shutting off through the pipes, you quickly grabbed your bag and headed downstairs. You flicked all the lights off, just like the last time and you waited patiently for your man as you made yourself comfortable on one of the kitchen chairs. You gingerly crossed one leg over the other as you lightly twirled the pink fuzzy handcuffs around your finger lazily.

You heard his heavy footsteps padding down the hall and the staircase as he called out your name. When your man finally came into view, you were pleased to see that he was wearing just a robe. You were pleased till you realized it was the fucking robe that one of the mess hall ladies gifted to Joel at last years town Christmas party. She had an enormous crush on your man and after a few too many glasses of spiked eggnog, she had no problem flirting up a storm with him.

“Hey baby.” He rasped as his eyes adjusted to the low lighting. He sucked in a harsh breath when he found you sitting, and wearing his personal favorite choice of lingerie that he had grabbed for you.

“You wore that robe on purpose, didn’t you?” You raised an eyebrow as you leaned forward slightly so he could get a good look at your cleavage nearly spilling out to his greedy eyes.

“What? This old thing? Yeah, Susan gifted it to me, remember?” He grinned as he strode around the table towards the empty chair that wasn’t occupied with you.

“As if I needed to remember the way she flirted your fucking ear off. Sit down, Mr. Miller. Don’t make me ask you twice.”

Joel swallowed the thick lump growing in his throat hard as he slowly sank down onto the chair opposite of yours. “My god, you look so fuckin’ gorgeous right now baby. Jesus Christ. I’m so happy you picked out that one it’s my—”

You cut him off sternly. “Did I fucking say you could talk baby? Don’t think so.” You slowly stood up from your chair, walking the short distance till you were standing between his open thighs. You leaned down, grasping his chin between your fingers. “Are you gonna be a good boy for me baby?”

Joel was itching to touch you already. To grab a handful of your ass and yank you forward so he could bury his face between your two luscious, pillowy breasts and lick every inch of skin that he could reach— “yes baby, of course I’ll be a good boy for you. Before we get into this, I think we should uh—come up with a safe word yeah? Cause if you’re gonna be whippin’ me and shit..” he trailed off as he lifted his warm, dark brown eyes up to gaze upon your pretty face.

You just about folded from his look alone as you ever so slightly tighten your fingers grip around his chin. “A safe word? Yeah, of course baby. We can always use a safe word.”

Joel tapped his fingers along the outside of his thighs, already feeling his cock twitch under the robe. It really took nothing for you to turn him on and he fucking loved it. “Alright darlin’ how about—hmm..Beetlejuice?”

You let out a soft giggle at his suggestion for a safe word and the sound alone was sending blood southwards as he took his lip between his teeth, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “Like..Michael Keaton’s Beetlejuice?”

“Yeah, there a problem with that sugar?”

“No no. That’s perfect actually. I had a huge crush on Beetlejuice at one point.” You giggled, dragging your thumb across Joel’s lower lip as he nibbled on your fingertip gently.

“Oh of course you did.” He fought the urge to roll his eyes at your response.

You were grabbing a fistful of his dark, salt and pepper speckled hair as you yanked his head back against the chair. “Just remember to not say his name three times baby or else we’ll be in trouble. I catch you rolling your eyes at me again and you’re going to regret it Joel.”

Joel felt a growl crawling up the deep cavern of his throat as he gritted his teeth tightly, feeling his fists clench at his sides. “Yes ma’am” he rasped out.

“Good boy.” You gave him a quick kiss before you were stepping away from him and walked behind his chair, leaning down so your lips were at the shell of his ear. “Arms behind your back baby. Wrists together for me.”

Joel reluctantly brought his arms around the back of the chair, holding his wrists together. “Guess I’m gonna have to get real creative with snappin’ these off, Huh baby?” He chuckled.

“If you manage to snap these off somehow, you can take me any way you want to baby.” You whispered against his ear as you snapped the pink fuzzy cuffs around his wrists and gave them a good tug to be sure they were secure.

“Oh, I am absolutely fuckin’ snappin’ these off at some point honey. Better have your fun while you still can.” He spoke with amusement laced in his tone..which was short lived when he felt your hands untying the knot that held the robe together and exposing his warm, damp skin to your wandering eyes. From the angle you were at, you could see the head of his cock resting against the base of his stomach, leaking in precum.

“Is this turning you already baby?” You cooed softly, letting your lips kiss down the expanse of his exposed neck, greedily sucking on his skin, licking a hot stripe up to his earlobe before you lightly nibbled on it with your teeth.

Joel let out a low rumbled groan as he tilted his head to the side, granting you easier access. He was so used to being the one to kiss on you but god, your lips felt delicious against his warm skin. “Mhm. My cock is aching for you darlin.’”

You reached behind you, grasping the leather hilt of the riding crop and slowly dragged it across his jaw, down his neck, across his chest as it lightly grazed his nipples. The sensation to him was new, and unfamiliar, but he liked it. So much so that he let a low hiss slip past his lips.

His cock instinctively twitched against his stomach and his muscles clenched as the cool leather descended past his navel. He could feel your grin creeping against his skin as you dragged the leather across his leaking tip. You couldn’t help but giggle as his hips bucked up from the feather light touch.

“You think this is fuckin’ funny darlin?’ Teasin’ me like this with that fuckin’ crop? You little minx I swear to god when I break out of these—” his low growl transfixed into a whimper when you brought the crop down swiftly against his inner thigh, stinging his skin from the sensation. You wasted no time to grab his jaw with your free hand and yank his head up so he was forced to look at you. “You shut the fuck up and be a good boy, baby. You got that?” Your eyes narrowed into his.

Joel let out a shuddered breath when he saw how dark your pupils had grown and he let out a low hiss when you brought the crop down on his inner thigh once more before he swiftly nodded. “Yes, baby. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be a good boy for you.” He pleaded.

Joel being a sub for you was by far the hottest fucking thing he had ever done. You were obsessed with having him at your mercy. To do with him whatever, and however you pleased. You rewarded him with a chaste kiss, slotting your lips together as you took full dominance. As soon as you felt him trying to take control of the kiss, you slapped his thigh with the crop a little harder this time and the leather just barely grazed his balls. He retreated shortly after.

Your tongues tangled together, teeth clashing as you lightly dragged the whip up and down his thick veiny cock. The sensation wasn’t nearly enough for Joel. It was driving him up a wall already and you could sense his frustration brewing deep in his gut. “Baby..” he mumbled against your lips, letting out what sounded like a groan, mixed in with a whimper. “Please don’t tease me anymore honey. I can’t take it much longer. I’m hurtin’ real fuckin’ bad. I need your touch. Your mouth, your pussy. Fuckin’ anythin’, please darlin.’” Joel Miller was begging you to touch him.

You grinned against his lips, parting from the kiss slightly so you could watch his face, see his brows furrowed and his eyes darken. You just barely kissed him now, tilting your head back slightly when he tried to properly kiss you once more. “Yeah baby? You want my touch that fucking bad? Huh pretty boy?” You cooed, letting your free hand slowly dip down his chest, navel, dragging your fingers along his taut skin that clenched inwards from the contact.

Joel let out a deep growl as he tugged harshly on the handcuffs secured around his wrists. The desire to have some sense of control was driving him mad as he narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m fuckin’ begging you to touch me darlin.’ Please do somethin’ before I lose my goddamn mind over here.”

You slowly wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, giving him a firm tug before you dragged your thumb across his ruddy head, collecting the leaking precum from the tip. You gave his cock a few more firm tugs before you leaned down over his shoulder, and spit over his cock. Your saliva trailed past your soft lips and down his happy trail and cock. You used your saliva as lubricant as you continued to slowly pump your fist around him.

Joel’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull when he watched you filthily spit over his cock. You were something fucking else entirely and his brain was feeling like a goddamn scrambled egg. “Shit. Yeah baby, that’s it. Fuck. Can I get your sweet mouth too? You always suck my cock so well—”

“Who the fuck is running this show huh? You, or me, Miller?” You squeezed his cock slightly, scraping your nails across the veiny skin.

“Jesus fuck—you are baby. It’s your show. Not mine.” He hissed.

“That’s right. It’s my show. Don’t even fucking think about cumming either. You’re not allowed to till I fucking say.”

“Yes, baby.” He nearly whimpered when you dragged your thumb across his sensitive head as he jutted his hips into your hand desperately.

When he could no longer feel your touch around his aching cock, he tugged on the restraints once more as he watched you ever so casually release your grip around him and walk away from his chair.

“Where the fuck are you goin’ now? I swear to god darlin’ if you even think about leavin’ me down here like this I’m gonna make you regret it.” He tugged on the restraints again, trying to get a feel for if these things were cheaply made or not.

You didn’t respond as you bent down. Ass on full display as you reached into your backpack, pulling out the collar and attached chain. You swung the chain around in a tight circle, using your free hand to pull the thin fabric covering your pussy to the side, revealing your slick cunt to him as you faced him.

Joel’s jaw went slack at the sight of you. Your pussy in his direct view, looking soft and wet for him. His mouth watered at the sight and he swore he had drool dribbling down his chin. “Fuck me. You’re so fuckin’ pretty baby. Is your pretty little pussy wet for me? I bet she is. I bet she’s fuckin’ drippin’ right now. Can I have a taste? Please?”

You slowly dragged your panties down over your thighs and ankles, casually tossing the fabric at him with a giggle before you walked over to him. Your boots were heavy along the old hardwood and you slowly stopped between his thighs, unclasping the collar before you fastened it around his neck. You gave the chain attached to the collar a firm tug, yanking his head towards you. “You wanna have a taste of my pussy baby? That’s what you really want? Huh, pretty boy?”

Joel was not expecting his body to be so willingly responsive to the leather fastened around his neck. Nor did he expect the groan to be elicited past his lips when you tugged on the chain. “Please, pretty girl. Let me have a taste of your pussy. Let me bury my head between your thighs and drink you dry.”

You propped your one boot clad foot right between his thighs, feeling his body jolt slightly from how close your boot had gotten to his dick. You grabbed ahold of his shoulder with your free hand as you held yourself as close to his face as you physically could. You yanked on the chain once more, pulling his face to your soaked cunt.

Joel’s eyes flicked up to yours as he nuzzled his face between your thighs, nipping at the soft flesh before he buried his face deep into your cunt. He could already feel his back aching from the angle he was forced into but did he care? Not one fucking bit. His nose was firmly pressed into your pubic bone as he lapped frantically at you. His tongue swirled around your clit while the sharp stubble on his jaw was scraping at your inner thighs. You let out a low moan as you tightened your grip around the chain. “Fuck. That’s it baby. You’re being such a good boy for me right now. Mouth full of my fucking pussy. Eating me like a man starved.”

Your free hand that was gripped around his shoulder found purchase in his hair, tugging at the roots tightly. Your nails lightly scraped his scalp as he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking harshly on the little bud. The sounds he made were nothing short of obscene and filthy. Joel let out a hum against your pussy, driving his face deeper into your folds as you began to rock your hips into his face.

“You taste so fuckin’ sweet baby. Sweetest taste a man could ever dream of consumin.’ He mumbled, mouth full of your pussy. “She’s so needy for me baby. You gonna cum for me? I know you’re close. C’mon my pretty girl. Cum all over my fuckin’ face.” He growled. Joel desperately wished that his hands weren’t restrained right now just so he could grab your ass and drive your pussy deeper into his eager mouth. Alas, he was still biding his time.

You were falling apart above him. Stuttering over your words as filth spilt from your parted lips. If anyone were to walk in on your debauchery, you both surely would be getting a one way ticket straight to hell. Your hips desperately bucked into his face as you chased your impending orgasm. Your stomach grew taught and tight as you cried out his name. “Yes! Fuck. Don’t stop, Joel! Don’t you dare fucking stop!”

Joel could feel himself becoming a little light headed as he wasn’t taking breaths in between. He could feel stars pricking behind his closed eyes but he didn’t stop till you were spasming above him and cumming along his tongue. He drank up every last drop before your fingers released their tight grip on his hair and he was finally able to take in a lungful of air. His entire face, down to his beard and chin were coated in your slick. His breaths were heavy as your sex stained gaze fell upon his face between your thighs.

“Holy fucking shit Joel. I thought I was about to fucking pass out.” You let your free hand drop down to his jaw, gathering up a bit of slick along his chin before you brought your thumb up to his parted lips. You watched as he wrapped his lips around your thumb nail, nibbling on it with hooded eyes.

“You and me both, baby. I could barely fuckin’ breathe. Started seein’ stars behind my eyes and everythin.’ Your sweet little pussy is just that fuckin’ good.” He spoke breathlessly, revealing a boyish grin that would make a rare appearance every now and then.

“You were such a good boy for me baby. I’m going to reward you, okay?” You slipped your thumb from between his lips and yanked on the chain, bringing his lips up to your mouth where you could taste yourself on them as he deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue around yours before you were firmly pushing him back down into the chair.

Joel felt his throat go dry as you slowly lowered yourself into his lap, planting your feet on either side of his hips and he yanked at the restraints once more. He could tell that the cheap metal was slowly becoming pliable, bendable and it would only be a matter of time before he would be snapping those stupid pink fuzzy cuffs off. “I wish I could touch you so fuckin’ bad right now baby. Just wanna wrap my arms around ya and pound into that sweet little fuckin’ pussy.”

You both let out a low hiss when you had grabbed ahold of the base of his cock, dragging his tip across your slick folds as you rolled your hips against his. “Patience, pretty boy. I know how badly you want to fuck me. I’m aching for your cock Joel. Just want to feel you stretch me open..” you moaned wantonly, yanking on the chain so his face was close to yours. “C’mon and be a good boy. Tell me how bad you want my pussy, Joel. Tell me.”

A low growl was elicited from deep within his chest as you rocked your hips into his at a deliciously, agonizing slow pace. “I want your pussy so fuckin’ bad darlin.’ Only ever have wanted your pussy. She’s all fuckin’ mine.”

You slipped the head of his cock past your slick folds as you finally sank down onto him to the hilt. Your warm walls immediately clenched around him as he filled you up to the fucking brim. “All yours, Joel. All fucking yours Mr. Miller.” You moaned as you slowly rose up and down on his cock, rolling your hips as you rode him.

“That’s right baby. You’re all fuckin’ mine and I’m all fuckin’ yours.” He groaned deeply, eyes flirting down to watch the way you would hug his cock each time you rose and fell above him. He loved watching the way he would disappear inside of you and the way your thighs were already quivering. “Taking my cock so well darlin.’ You always grip me so fuckin’ tight. So pretty, so perfect for me.” He bucked his hips up into yours causing your lips to part as you let out an unexpecting gasp from the motion.

“Oh, fuck. Yes baby. You always fill me up so fuckin’ well Joel. I love you, I love your cock. Such a good boy for me.”

Joel thrusted his hips up into yours once more as he tugged on the restraints hard. From the force of his tugging, and harsh thrust of his hips, the cuffs suddenly snapped with a loud pop as they clattered to the ground.

You were already scrambling off of his cock when you heard the cuffs snap and you didn’t even get far from the chair before he was grabbing your wrist and yanking you firmly against his chest. The collar around his neck was unclasped and thrown onto the kitchen table as his hand found purchase around your throat. “Now, now. Where the hell do you think you’re goin’ sweetheart? Not so fuckin’ fast baby. Told you I was gonna break out of those stupid fuckin’ things.” He tsked under his breath as he used his free hand to wrap around your middle and pull you back down into his lap at his mercy.

“How the fuck did you even break out of those huh? They were on fucking tight!” You grumbled.

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter how I did it. Don’t ask anymore fuckin’ questions. Got it? Be a good fuckin’ girl for me and get back on my cock. You think I was done with ya or somethin?’” He growled against the side of your head, taking in a deep inhale of your natural scent mixed in with vanilla shampoo.

You took your lip between your teeth as you grabbed ahold of his cock once more, sinking down onto him. Your thighs were spread across his lap, feet on either side of his thighs as he held you in place. He filled you up even more if that was even possible. This angle had you feeling like you were being stretched to your limits as he bucked his hips up into you, feeling his balls slapping against your skin.

His arm stayed firmly wrapped around your middle, holding you flush against his chest as he fucked into you at a harsh pace, exerting all his energy into making you scream ontop of him. His hand that was wrapped around your throat, dropped to the kitchen table as he grasped the leather whip and wasted no time to continuously slap it against your swollen, puffy clit.

“You gonna fuckin’ cum all over my cock like a good fuckin’ girl baby?” He grunted against your hair, tapping the whip faster against your clit as he forcefully pulled your hips down on him as he continued to harshly thrust into you.

Your moans were turning into choked sobs as the sensation was becoming too much, too overwhelming and the safe word was on the tip of your tongue but you struggled to get the words out. “Joel—J-J-Joel baby I—can’t”

Joel’s ears had zoned in attentively on your sobs as he tried to decipher if they were sobs of pleasure, or if it had become too much and when you let out a strangled cry, his heart snapped and he immediately stopped, gently slipping you off his cock and tossed the whip aside, cradling you protectively against his chest. “Shh..shh..baby. Hey, breathe baby. You’re okay. You’re okay. I got you honey. Deep breaths for me, okay? I got you. You’re safe.” He whispered.

Your entire body was trembling around him as you continued to sob, clutching yourself around him like a koala.

“My sweet girl..m’so sorry. Why didn’t you use the safe word?” He spoke softly as he kissed the top of your head before gently grasping your face in his warm palms, wiping away your hot tears.

“I—I tried to say it but it was..it was too much.” You whimpered.

“Shh. I know, baby. I got you. M’sorry I didn’t stop sooner. You’re okay now. Safe here in my arms. I got you.” He continued to hold you till your body had seemingly recovered and had gone slack in his grip. He wrapped your legs around his waist gently before he lifted you up and carried you upstairs.

The rest of the evening you spent in the tub with your back resting against Joel’s chest as he took care of you. His movements were gentle, attentive and soft. He hummed against your ear as he gently washed between your thighs. He wrapped you in a fluffy towel, applied lotion to your legs before he dressed you in one of his T-shirts and boxers to sleep in. He carried you to bed, letting you be the little spoon as he held you close to him.

Sometime in the night, Ellie had come home with Dina to grab her stash of weed. The two girls were mortified to say the least when they found the sex toys scattered along the floor in the entryway. Thank god for the booze in their system as they headed upstairs, hands interlocked and girlish giggles slipping past their lips.

Dina was the first to find the t-shirt and she held it up for Ellie to see as she grabbed her jar of joints. “Hey, El? Which one of your parents got you this shirt, you think?”

Ellie turned her focus on the white tee that her girlfriend was holding up and she couldn’t contain her giggles. “I Love My Lesbian Daughter. Yeah, my mom 100% is the one who got that for me. She’s so fuckin’ rad. My dad would totally never. He doesn’t even have a clue about us babe.”

“I literally want one of these shirts. We’ll have to ask her where she got it.” Dina said with a grin, tossing the shirt to her girlfriend who caught it with ease.

“I have a sneaking suspicion that they were at fucking sex shop or something.”

“Chains and whips must really get your parents going, huh?” Dina teased.

“Oh my god, gross! I do not need those images in my head Di!” Ellie giggled, stuffing the shirt in her bag.

The next morning at breakfast, Joel was complaining about his back as usual and your thighs were absolutely killing you. Joel hadn’t even noticed the shirt his kid was wearing when she came through the front door with Dina in tow.

“Hey kiddo, how was your night?” Joel asked his daughter as she kissed his cheek and gave him a side hug.

“Pretty good. Although, Dina and I stopped by at like midnight or so and we found yours and moms uh..”

“Oh god.” You and Joel both said out loud at the same time.

“It’s cool you guys! We just thought it was super fucking funny!” Ellie said with a grin as she stuffed her face with fresh pancakes.

Joel scrubbed a hand over his face with a deep sigh before taking a long sip of his coffee. His eyes narrowed in on his kid’s shirt and he nearly choked on his sip of coffee. “Where the hell did you get that?”

“Oh, this? Mom got it for me!” Ellie proudly stated.

Joel looked between his daughter, and you before he smiled over the rim of his mug. “Yeah? Well, I think your mom is gonna have to get your old man one as well.”

Tag List: @chaotic-mystery @peterhollandkait @userpedros @pedgeitopascal @last-girl @korynnekorynne @yazsos @777-wonders @lovers-liability @loquaciousferret @kirsteng42 @dinsdjrn @myrealmofchaos

[pathetic-sapphic]

I can request orgasm denial for Dom Ellie x Sub fem reader ?

Gone A Little Far

Kinktober day 20: Orgasm Denial

Dom! Ellie x Sub! Fem!Reader

''Ellie... come on, please.'' You whine, trying to crane your neck to look at your girlfriend behind you. Ellie has you between her thighs, your back against her chest and your legs held wide open as she works her fingers into you. She's been edging you for an hour or so, not letting you cum and, by the looks of it, she has no plan on allowing you any time soon.

You knew that this is what you'd get for misbehaving, but you thought she'd eventually relent. Her fingers keep thrusting in and out of your pussy, your wetness causing the movement to make embarrassing squelching sounds but you can't help it. The way she holds you open, how perfectly her fingers fill you up and the filth she's been whispering into your ear turn you on so much.

''Baby, please let me cum, I promise I'll be good.'' You whimper, trying to grab her wrist to keep it there and push you over the edge. Ellie shushes you and smacks your hand away. ''Not a chance, baby. That's what you said last time and look where it got you. You'll just keep being a brat if I don't put you in your place.'' She says in a serious tone, removing her fingers as soon as she notices that you're nearing your climax.

You whine and squirm as she denies you an orgasm once again. ''No, no, please! Ellie, please, I can't-'' You beg as your whole body trembles at the denial, grabbing her hands to have something to hold onto. You can feel tears pricking at your eyes as you bite your lip in a pathetic attempt to keep your wits. Ellie laughs at your desperate behavior before grabbing your panties and pulling them back onto your pussy.

Once your underwear is back on, she taps your clit teasingly over the fabric, chuckling at your sobs. ''Sorry baby, but that's all you're getting tonight. Maybe next time, you'll behave, hm?'' She asks as she wipes away your tears. You sniff but nod, knowing that you have no choice but to listen to her. She grabs your face and pulls you into a filthy kiss. ''Good girl, and don't even think about touching yourself or this punishment will seem like nothing compared to what I'll do to you then.''

song i listened to while writing: borderline by tame impala

[sugarcoated-lame]

Into The Woods

Joel Miller x Reader drabble

*This is pretty much straight up filth so 18+, minors please do not interact!!! you will be blocked! (:

Summary: You and Joel get some much needed alone time while on a hunt in the woods

or i just needed to get out my thots about Joel fucking you against a tree (:

Warnings: smut, unprotected piv, outdoor sx, just me being absolutely feral for Joel Miller (: <3, takes place after the events of the first game so like a mild spoiler ? at the very beginning if you haven't watched the finale, but otherwise spoiler free

WC: 900

a/n: this is my first attempt at writing for Joel so i'm sorry if it sucks, pls be kind <3

dedicating this to the lovely @sebsxphia for always indulging me and my Joel thots <3

•

•

It's been a few weeks since permanently settling in Jackson. A reprieve after months spent on the road with Joel, escorting the 14-year-old girl who had become family to you both, across the country. Months spent in close quarters, the three of you just trying to survive.

Even now, in your new home, you and Joel don't get a ton of alone time living with Ellie. There are nights in your shared bedroom of course, but the walls are thin and you're never able to be as loud or uninhibited as either one of you would like to be when you're both busy worrying about waking Ellie who's sleeping in the next room.

Nights where Joel’s thrusts are stilted, hips stuttering against yours, his rough hand covering your mouth to quiet your moans that he oh-so-badly wants to hear. So many nights wishing that you could give in fully to that primal need you feel for one another, the both of you just left wanting more.

It's lots of lingering touches in the daytime, feeling the intense warmth of Joel’s brown eyes burning into you almost at all times as you go about your mundane day-to-day activities. You watching the way his deft fingers gently stroke the strings of the guitar that he’d fixed up and wishing they were stroking you instead. The tension between you thick and palpable, the two of you craving each other immensely.

That tension finally snaps when you and Joel are out in the woods one warm, sunny day, outside of Jackson hunting for food. He's walking behind you, unable to pay much attention to anything but the curve of your ass in your jeans with every step you take through the desolate forest. Joel needs to have you immediately, and his calling your name in that husky Texan accent has you turning to face him in an instant.

He wastes no time lifting you up in his strong arms, dropping both of your guns to the ground—he knows there’s nobody around these woods for miles—and pressing you up against the trunk of the closest tree that stands tall next to you. A small ‘oof’ sounding from you as your back hits the hard wood, your arms moving instinctively to wrap around Joel’s shoulders, legs around his waist and he’s kissing you breathless.

It’s quick and dirty and rough, both of your jeans frantically pulled down just enough for Joel to slip inside of you in one quick thrust, knowing you’re more than wet enough because you’ve been yearning for this just as much as he has. You cry out at the stretch, burying your face in the crook of Joel’s neck as strong hands grip your thighs to hold your body up. Giving you a moment to adjust, his hips keep you pressed tightly to the bark of the tree as he ruts into you.

It’s only a matter of seconds before he’s pounding into you roughly, pulling nearly all the way out, and slamming back into your wet heat with every thrust, his cock hitting that spot inside of you that has you seeing spots in your vision and makes your toes curl. Your breathless whines and whimpers, pleas of ‘harder, Joel’ mingling in the fresh woodsy air with Joel’s deeper grunts that are right next to your ear and going straight to your core.

Joel knows you’re close when your velvety walls begin to clench around him, nearly strangling his length in a vice-like grip as the volume of your quiet cries rises into louder moans. Finally getting to hear you cry out for him the way he’s been wanting you to for so long only spurs on his movements, quickening the pace of his hips and fucking into you harder.

Rough hands grip the soft flesh of your thighs so tight you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. Joel’s lips trail kisses along the skin of your neck as one of his hands moves to bring his fingers to your clit, the calloused pads rubbing tight circles over the sensitive nerves. You cling onto him for dear life, nails digging into the strong muscles of his shoulders and thighs squeezing tighter around his hips.

“Wanna hear you, darlin’. Let go for me. Can be as loud as you want for me out here, baby.”

Joel’s words have you coming around him with a sound that’s a mix between a moan and a scream, your walls clenching impossibly tighter around him and triggering his own high. Joel thrusting one, two, three more times before his hips still against yours, pressed as deep as possible inside of you as he spills into you with a deep, throaty groan.

He fucks the both of you through it, your oversensitive walls still fluttering around him, Joel’s thrusts slowing and only coming to a stop when he’s fully spent.

He keeps you in his hold, head resting on your shoulder as your fingers card through his thick, graying curls. The both of you panting heavily as you come down from your highs, breathless words whispered against your sweat-shining skin.

“Did so good for me, baby girl.”

*

*

*

*

idk what this was, the Joel thots have taken over my brain like the cordyceps virus and turned me into a feral monster (:

Thank you for reading! x

*

*

*

*

[wannab-urs]

The Spreadsheet Digest Vol. 2 - Fic Recs

Here's everything I added to the Pedro Fics Spreadsheet in the last week with my unedited ramblings attached (the notes I make immediately after reading, often unhinged).

Surrender - a Joel series by @ezrasbirdie

-> ofc daisy, grumpy/sunshine but the sunshine has depth and the grumpy isn't mean. ellie is excellent in this

Hayloft - a Joel WIP @atinylittlepain

-> dancer!reader (stripper), cute awkward joel, smutty smutty smut. reader is kind of soft!dom?

High Enough - a Joel/Dieter series by @psychedelic-ink

-> Actor!reader and your bodyguard Joel hookup with Dieter Bravo at a party and it is SO hot

Short Days, Long Nights - a Joel series by @frannyzooey

-> post outbreak!joel but it's also domestic bliss. the filth is filthy but the slow burn makes you work for it. This is gorgeous and beautiful and sweet but also so fucking hot!

What he didn't do - a Joel one shot by @joelsgreys

-> divorced!reader and Joel finally go on a date after he's been crushing on you for 10 years and it's very cute

Build Me Up Buttercup - a Joel series by me

-> You're failing Dr. Miller's architecture class and you decide to confront him about it.

Best Laid Plans - a Dieter series by @prolix-yuy

-> Dieter Bravo, legendary Hollywood playboy and a tabloid’s best friend, never thought he was worth much more than a good night to a parade of faces. Until Murch, the editor on his film, turns his world upside down. Now he’s got big plans to do the same as he drags her into the deep end of his hedonistic life. He’s got a guy for everything, but she’s got something he’s always wanted - a big enough heart (and patience) for him to fit in.

Breaking the Girl - a Joel one shot by @cinematicgf

-> Your boyfriend sucks, but you go home with him for the summer anyway. His neighbor and boss Joel Miller is decidedly not an asshole. And he's really hot.

Me-use - a Claude ;) one shot by @boliv-jenta

-> Just fucking trust me you have to read this

Toyin' with them older guys - a Joel one shot by @proxima-writes

->Hot bartender joel fucks with your sex life... and then ya know

The Babysitter - a Joel one shot by @proxima-writes

-> Babysitter reader seduces single dad joel and it is everything you could ever hope for, but it also leaves you wanting more (in the best way possible)

Push and Pull - a Joel one shot by @javiscigarette

-> Dom!Joel, pretty fuckin rough sex, but like Joel is a consent king and the aftercare is so sweet.

Deserve it - a Joel series by @fake-bleach

-> Joel's wife is cheating on him but it doesn't really matter bc you're giving him the best blowjob of his life

A Girl Walks Into A Bookshop - an Ezra series by @oonajaeadira

-> Ezra owns a bookshop and you get pulled into his store one day. This is the softest, most beautiful little story. Give yourself the gift of reading this please.

Vaya con Dio - a Dio one shot by @atinylittlepain

-> Dio thinks he has it all figured out, but you put him in his place

This Will Be The Day That I Spy - a Jack series by @oonajaeadira

-> You go on a blind date with Jack and it's full of surprises

Restoring the Roots - a Joel series by @bearsbeetsbeskar

-> Tommy and Ellie try to convince Joel to see a therapist... This is going to be really good...

A Long Day - a Javi P one shot by @jkprincess10

-> Have you ever wanted to rim Javi Peña? If not, you will after reading this

The Living Waters of Mandalore - a Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

-> Din discovers your uhhh living waters... and he's really excited about it

There's a lot of Joel on here this week... I was going through something lmao. I tried to throw in a few other guys for y'all too though.

Enjoy <3

[3lli3l0v3r]

im excited to contribute to the sub!ellie epidemic tbh....but also nervy bc filth. 😵‍💫 but like its sweet yall will see kay. ugh can read it all day however writing it is a wholeeeee nother thing.

will be posting 10:15 in a day or two once i spice it up some moreee (it's literally almost the same length as how soon is now? which i find hysterical for some reason-)

edit: for yall seein this now here you go

[qvrcll]

NOVACANE *ੈ✩‧₊˚

warnings: N$FW under the cut, cunn!l!ngus, f!ngerin (to some degree), overst!mulation, bottom ellie, established relationship, fem reader

notes: had been playing with the thought of bottom ellie for a while now and wanted to take it further into words! this is pure filth, mind you, so i hope you just as much of a blast as i did when writing this! enjoy :-]

You had proposed it after some few months of dating her, let it politely slip into conversation. How do you feel about being... you know... eaten out? Is it alright? Strange? Would you be up for it?

And Ellie had been in a limbo with it - she knew you'd never force it upon her. If she wanted none of it, there would no push or shove. No question, no guilt for her to carry. But that wasn't to say she wasn't awfully curious.

So, after much consideration and discussion and do-over's, she decided to make that decision.

“We can try it out" she'd said over morning patrols. If anyone were to pass by, they'd surely mistake her words for something trivial - perhaps a new slew of cereal or a some god forsaken place that Maria had opted again scouting for materials - but surely not the prospect of you eating her out.

You'd paused your ministrations against the mane of your horse, eyes blown wide and breath stuck in your throat like a day old bone. It makes Ellie stifle with laughter, as she plays with Shimmer's reins as a hollow distraction.

“Are you… sure?” you ask, because you need to. Feel it in the dull ache in your bones, the aridity in your throat the minute she whispers the words. And at first, you mis-measure it for anxiety, but when she nods, gives you a soppy grin before she perches out of the stables with Shimmer, you know it’s excitement.

When it gets down to it that evening, you run her through all the necessary boundaries and pit stops and safe words. A tap on your shoulder and you’ll pull away, give her time to find footing and some level between the haze. Two taps and you slow down. Three times and you stop all-together. And Ellie is grateful, unable to love you even more than she does for this.

When you sink to your knees, her tummy dips and she’s breathing hard despite herself. To see you so willing, flesh crushed beneath the promise of pleasure as you lock eyes with her and slowly, slowly, pull down the zipper of her jeans, her heart-rate fluctuates and burns in her chest.

The first few seconds are silent, punctured in time — when you’re face to face with her sex, wet and unholy and truly quivering now that you’re so close to the heat of it, you begin to shake a little yourself. Ellie’s always done this in a sort of fashion that made you black out if she rubbed her vigour into it. And you want to keep up with that fervour.

Pushing yourself further, you take two experimental licks and come to a warm realisation that her taste is quickly becoming familiar, painfully addictive as the scratch of your tongue latches against her bundles of nerves.

“Fuck—shittt—fuck…” she curses, all gravel and no limits, above you, her body broiling with sweat already, working up an effort when you come to prod your tongue deeper, section it equally with the generous licks that wet her completely.

And you decide to crawl further — your fingers come to the equation, fit firmly against your tongue and beginning to rub affirming, slow-starting circles against her clit. And her body responds, as you expect it to, with a slew of twitches and round, mussy sounds. The more you rub, the more you lick, the more she angles her hips to push, fall, fuck further into the thick, wet pleasure of your tongue, your fingers.

You laugh and even that sends pricks up her spine, rips a depraved, reprobate sound from her throat like a hunger she hasn’t felt until it was bourne within her now — now that she’s known your tongue, felt its fervour as you lap against her like a dog. She catches your eyes from beneath rows of pleasure, hazy, winding flushes of heat netted in her chest, peering at her as your speed does everything but slow down, “Feel good? Do I make you feel good?”

When she doesn’t answer, you apply pressure to her clit, slot an ardent, slipper finger into her sex, that begins to give way under the weight of your tongue’s continual abuse, and set a heady pace. And when she cries out for nothing in particular, you know you have her in some part of you palm, squeezed thin — “Hnng—I—Yeah, fuck, you feel so fucking good babe—shit—might—might…fuck—“

And as a knot begins to build, settle and tighten in the lowest parts of her belly, like an old flame relit to hash into place, Ellie knows she’s close. And you know that she knows. You know she thinks it will be a smooth settling, an fluttering orgasm but a smooth finish. But you want to keep up.

The climax is disorienting and you throw in aberration in the mix. When her stomach dips, you slip in another finger into the pinguid mess of her cunt and work your tongue the best you have in your life. Staple a technique and stick to it, even if it is for thirty goddamn seconds. A figure eight and around, a circle, a long stripe upwards and then starting over, only ever increasing in celerity.

Ellie begins to feel the limits of her body cramping her up: the noises coming out of her are otherworldly and animalistic, bordering on primal, and she’s clawing against your scalp, both keeping you in place and swivelling you out of aim. Because, oh fuck, how do you do that thing with your tongue? How do you do it so quick? How has she been filled by two fingers already? And, shit, why is there more of something she’d thought, once, was enough?

She knows she’s finishing more violently than usual. No air in her lungs, her appendages spent and twitching at her sides. Your head between her legs, aching, going deeper still. Wringing her orgasm out like a string and ripping it raw until she breaks. And is it bad that she likes it, despite the unfamiliarity?

And when she comes, she truly comes.

She tries to push you out of the way, half out of embarrassment and half out of fear for what was coming — something suspended and wet and dangerously sizeable to her usual comings.

“Want you to do it on my face—“ you give her that, a moment of clarity as she loses herself within your mouth, within the cracks of your fingers, “Can you give me that, Ellie? Hm?”

And your tongue rasps her throbbing clit, recurs back into the slew of nerves and a mix of saliva and wet, wet, wet, and your fingers are taking their violent rounds, robbing her of air and putting in place a mad rub against her flesh. And it’s all so quick and she’s so, so, so close.

“Yeah—course I can—I can, for you—fuck!” she curses and closes her eyes and holds her breath.

and she lets go and lets go and lets go.

When she opens her eyes, she can faintly remember her orgasm being different by miles. It had been something like water exiting her in hot rushes, and for a second, she is mortified as she glances down at your face that is glimmering with her feared result of her coming.

“Oh my fucking—I’m so sorry, I—“ she struggles, embarrassed and small again, swirling with thoughts of Did I really just fucking piss myself? until you come to grip the sides of her thigh in small intervals, rubbing circles where she sighs, sweetly, into.

“Ellie, it’s okay. You’re good, you’re fine. See?” you motion with your chin downwards and Ellie looks down with a hot, heavy blush, despite herself and sees the mess she’s created. Blown apart at its own foundations and let loose. She’s messed you up, your face and your neck, where it glistens shamelessly with her spend.

And then it clicks.

“Did I just… squirt?” she asks in disbelief, utter confusion and still touched by the pleasure you’d given to her unwittingly.

It’s a few minutes of hearty laughter and a state of calm, finish, as she recognises the blood rush to her limbs again. But she’s addicted. Grown familiar. Wanting more of what she’s had, and greedy with that shame, too.

“Can we… do it again?” and as quiet as she is, you’re loud with your pride, sinking again on your bruised knees, spreading apart her thighs with a poorly kept moan when you see her cum lining the corners of her thigh. A thought rings somewhere in your head, low and in the shape of her face, contorted in pleasure so irrevocable, you shamed yourself for it.

And so, you begin again.

© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Fuck Yeah 1st birthday fic vote

I survived one year on this hellsite! 😉 It's been a wonderful almost 365 days in our little Pedro fandom - March 19 was the day I posted It Would Be, and what a ride it’s been since! Thank you friends, mutuals, readers, followers and everyone who makes it so much fun to create and to share with you guys ❤️

How about a ✨ fic vote ✨ to celebrate? It's been a while since we had one, and I've been very mean and teasing y'all with so many plot bunnies. Help me decide what to write next!

Since I have no plans to start a new series after I finish Palomino, these are all one- or two-shot ideas. I hope to get round to writing all of them at some point, but I will write them in the order of votes received. Fic summaries below the cut!

Young!Joel Miller x Baker!F!Reader | outbreak, what outbreak? | fluffy meet cute with a smutty second part | planned two-shot

Summary: What if Joel doesn't forget to buy himself a cake for his birthday? But by the time he remembers, all the bakeries in his neighbourhood are closed - except yours.

The first draft of this idea was Speed Dial, which was supposed to be a PWP, but as it turns out, I'm not great at PWPs... so how about a two-shot instead?

Javier Peña x Centra Spike Analyst F!Reader | accidental audio voyeurism | one-shot, might be more | sexual tension galore

Summary: It’s New Year’s Eve. You’re alone and transcribing a tape recording of an informant for Javier Peña, something you've done a hundred times before - except this time, you overhear something that is clearly not meant for your ears.

I've been stewing in this idea since before New Year's. Probably the most creative idea I've had so far, and will probably be difficult to write, but this fic haunts my dreams and I will have no peace until I sit down and write it.

Agent Whiskey x F!Reader | straight-up filth | planned two-shot

Summary: He's absolutely not your type. But hey, what happens in Glastonbury stays in Glastonbury - especially mistakes in the shape of a silver-tongued, smarmy American cowboy sporting a ridiculous belt buckle.

After going to a music festival last weekend, this is all I've been thinking about.

Joel Miller x F!Reader | self-conscious!Joel and shy!Reader | 👏🏻 body positivity 👏🏾 | planned one- or two-shot with potential to be more

Summary: Joel has a problem. Having settled into some semblance of a 'normal' life in Jackson that no longer involves running for his life and living off scraps, his clothes are getting a little… tight. Self-conscious, he deals with it the way he does most things - he ignores it.

That is until one day, the zipper on his jeans finally gives up after one too many desperate tugs, leaving him stuck. With neither Tommy nor Ellie anywhere to be found to get him out of the tight spot, Joel begrudgingly heads to the clothing store he’s seen in town for help - and a new pair of jeans.

There, he meets you.

Thank you everyone who has been so enthusiastic about this idea! It definitely has Grays vibes, but can you blame me for wanting to give this man reassurance? I’m also super excited to write a shy reader, which is a departure from my others ❤️

Frankie Morales x F!Reader | enemies to lovers | second chances | angst | planned two-shot

Summary: At the Summer House where you and the boys have always spent the last week of August, some traditions are held sacred. Above all, Frankie always brings a girlfriend, and you're always single.

You really should’ve known better than to tempt fate. The summer Frankie shows up alone and you bring a boyfriend is when it all falls apart. 

I am beyond excited about this one. I've teased the idea before - it's going to be so self-indulgent and will have all the tropes that I've wanted to write for. It's been a while since I've written angst, and damn this will be angsty!

Got any burning questions? My askbox is open as always! I'll leave this poll up for a week, excited to see what the results will be ❤️