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#they're a little over 40 now
windfighter · 2 years
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Still alive
Kouji stepped off the train in Italy. His stomach hurt a little. What if no one was there? He wouldn’t be surprised. How long had it been since he talked to them?
If no one was there he’d just take another train and leave again.
His backpack felt heavy, despite only containing a change of clothes, a towel and his camera, along with painkillers for bad days and a small toolbag for emergency repairs. There wasn’t even any food in it since he’d be in the city. Perhaps that was to be expected after a three years long break. Even a light bag would be heavy at that point. He turned his eyes to the sky. Bright blue with some cirrus clouds.. The sun was warm and he closed his eyes.
Part of him hoped no one would be on the station to meet him.
He missed Frenci. Frenci, who hadn’t left his side for three years, helped him through recovery, helped him as he relearned how to walk, helped him when everything felt hopeless. Kouji’s shoulders fell. As much as he had complained about being dependant on someone else, it felt wrong to be alone again.
”Kouji!”
Kouji opened his eyes and took another step. His leg protested and pain radiated from his thigh. Maybe he should have taken a more scenic route with places he could stop to stretch his legs. Too late now. He looked around for the source of the voice. Kouichi ran up to him.
Kouichi looked absolutely furious.
”I hate you so much!” Kouichi said and pulled Kouji in for a hug.
Kouji wrapped his arms around Kouichi and buried his face in Kouichi’s shoulder. He had missed his brother so much.
”Three years!” Kouichi pulled away. ”Three years without a word!”
He put his hands to his sides and glared. Kouji looked at the ground. He already missed someone to lean against. Something to take weight off his leg. But he had worked hard for this moment, he wasn’t going to ruin it.
”I thought you were DEAD!” Kouichi continued.
People were staring at them. Kouji scratched the back of his head. His hair had started growing long again and he needed to decide if he was going to cut it or let it grow out. He’d probably let it grow out, short hair reminded him too much of the hospital. Kouji took a shaky breath.
”Je suis navré”, he said.
An apology for all the pain he had caused Kouichi. Kouichi didn’t look impressed and Kouji didn’t know what he did wrong this time. Three years away and he had already forgotten how to talk to people.
”I don’t speak French”, Kouichi said and put a hand against his face.
He shook his head and pulled Kouji in for another hug. Kouji held on until Kouichi pulled away again.
”I’m sorry”, Kouji said and tried to formulate an explanation. ”A lot of stuff happened, so I got kind off… cut off from the world.”
It was the best he could do without explaining the whole thing right at that moment. It wasn’t something he wanted to talk about on the train station with a bunch of strangers in close proximity. Sure, most wouldn’t understand, but there was always a risk that someone would.
”I expect a 30 minute presentation with a power point”, Kouichi said.
Kouji snorted and leaned his head against Kouichi’s shoulder again.
”I’ve missed you”, he mumled.
He was getting emotional. Not great for his reputation.
”I’ve grieved you”, Kouichi whispered back.
Kouji wished there was some way he could take away the pain he had caused.
”I won’t do it again”, was all he could promise.
He’d been so focused on surviving and getting better that he hadn’t even thought about contacting anyone. Frenci hadn’t reminded him, also focused on making sure Kouji got better and not do anything to wreck what little progress he had done. Three whole years it had taken for Kouji to get his independence back. He swallowed and stood up straight again.
”No one else wanted to meet me?” he asked instead.
He could understand if they didn’t. They were probably at least as angry at him as Kouichi. Kouichi shook his head.
”They’re preparing a party at the restaurant. Izumi closed it for the day just for you.”
”Excessive”, Kouji said.
Kouichi poked his side hard and Kouji took a step to the side.
”You were dead for three years. We’re having a party for you and you’ll be grateful.”
Kouji lifted his hands and laughed.
”Yeah, yeah. I’m happy. I’ve missed all of you.”
They started walking. Kouichi tried to ask Kouji about what animals he’d taken pictures off the last years and Kouji did his best to avoid answering. His leg felt a little better after they had walked a bit and he’d gotten used to walking on it again. The pain was still present and he put his hands into his pocket to not grab Kouichi for support.
Kouichi stopped. Kouji took another three steps before he noticed it, but then he turned around. Kouichi tilted his head.
”Why are you squeaking?”
”...what?”
”There’s a squeaking noise coming from you when you walk.”
Kouji frowned. He had completely forgotten about that happening when it was too hot or too cold. He didn’t hear it himself, his brain had learn to ignore it.
”It’s nothing”, he said.
”What do you mean nothing?” Kouichi crossed his arms over his chest.
”It’s… fine?” Kouji tried instead. ”It happens sometimes.”
”But why?”
Kouji gestured at the sun and started walking again.
”Metal swell when it gets hot”, he said.
Kouichi caught up to him and they kept walking. There was no more questions about the squeaky sound. Kouji tried to ask Kouichi about his work, but he was absolutely not interested in the answers and Kouichi knew as much.
When they’d been walking for an hour Kouji’s leg started hurting again. He let out a groan. They should have just taken a cab. Kouichi looked at him.
”You okay?”
”Yeah”, Kouji pulled a hand across his face. ”How long until we’re there?”
”You already tired?” Kouichi asked and his mouth twitched.
Kouji assumed it was hilarious from an outside perspective, he had always been fit and able to walk for hours. He rolled his eyes and gave Kouichi a shove.
”It’s been a long trip.”
”Yeah, why didn’t you just take a plane?”
”Trains are great”, Kouji answered. ”Much better for the enviroment.”
He also wasn’t sure how flying would work with his leg. He wasn’t interested in finding out yet, although one day he would have to. They started walking again.
”Where were you even before this?”
”Canada, with Frenci.”
”Were you filming bears again?”
Kouji didn’t answer. His leg locked up and he took a stumbling step. He cursed in Hausa and looked around. Nowhere to sit nearby. He held a hand towards Kouichi.
”Can I borrow your arm?”
”Why? What’s wrong?” Kouichi asked but held an arm for Kouji to grab.
”Nothing”, Kouji said and grabbed the arm. ”Knee’s locked up, it’s fine.”
”That’s not fine”, Kouichi got his worried look and Kouji rolled his eyes. ”Let me take a look at it.”
”You can’t do anything.”
Kouji limped onwards and Kouichi had to start walking as well.
”I’m a doctor, if there’s something wrong I’m the best person of us to do something.”
”I just need a bench, then I can fix it.”
”A bench?”
Three years and he still couldn’t walk for more than an hour. He held on harder to Kouichi’s arm.
”A bench”, Kouji confirmed. ”Don’t think too hard about it.”
”Are you a robot or something?”
Kouji snorted, stumbled and groaned in pain. Kouichi wrapped his arm around Kouji’s waist instead.
”Here, lean against me.”
Kouji did and let out a relieved sigh. They really should have just taken a cab.
”So how far is it to the restaurant?” he asked.
”Only about 15 minutes”, Kouichi answered and looked around for a bench. ”But I’d like to take a look at your knee before I force you to walk all the way there.”
”It’s just the heat”, Kouji muttered.
He noticed a bench another 20 meters ahead and gestured at it. Kouichi helped him over to it and he sat down. His knee didn’t bend and Kouichi’s worried face grew more worried.
”When you said it locked up you weren’t kidding.”
Kouichi reached for Kouji’s pant leg and Kouji shooed his hands away before grabbing his backpack and pulling out the toolbag.
”I need to get a new model”, he said as he looked though the bag, ”but there’s something sentimental about your first.”
Kouichi’s worry changed into confusion. Kouji grabbed his leg and twisted it. Tension released from his thigh and he let out a relieved sigh before putting the leg in his lap. Kouichi stared.
”Prosthesis”, Kouji laughed and freed it from the pants. ”I’m a cyborg.”
”What happened?”
Kouichi sat down next to Kouji and grabbed the leg. Kouji leaned back and closed his eyes. He was tired.
”I’ll tell you in the 30 minutes power point presentation later”, he said.
Kouichi tried to move the knee hinge. It squeaked and Kouji grimaced.
”Please don’t destroy it, I need it to walk.”
He grabbed the leg again, loosened a couple of screws and put some oil in the joints. He packed the tools in the backpack again and put the leg on the ground, leaning it against the bench.
”I can ask Junpei to come pick us up”, Kouichi suggested.
”A little late”, Kouji said with a laugh.
”Well, you didn’t tell me you were one leg short.”
Kouji patted Kouichi’s leg.
”I can walk, just give me a couple of minutes.”
”I have so many questions”, Kouichi shook his head. ”...want me to take your bag?”
Kouji put the backpack in Kouichi’s lap and screwed the prosthesis onto his leg again. He sighed and pulled a hand across his face.
”I didn’t want to talk about it among all the people on the station”, he said. ”And I don’t want to have to tell the story five times.”
”Understandable”, Kouichi nodded.
”Technically it’s my second”, Kouji continued and stood up. ”But the first one was so illfitted and terrible to walk on that I don’t want to remember it.”
Kouichi also stood up and Kouji grabbed Kouichi’s arm for support, although it was easier to walk now that the leg had been oiled. They walked for a couple of minutes in silence and then Kouichi suddenly started laughing.
”’I won’t do it again’”, he said.
Had Kouichi lost his sanity completely because of Kouji? Kouji looked at him.
”What?”
”That’s what you said. ’I won’t do it again’.”
”...yeah?”
Kouji wasn’t sure where Kouichi was going.
”I’m really hoping you’re not planning on losing your other leg as well”, Kouichi said and laughed so hard he had to stop.
Kouji chuckled. That was one way to take his promise.
”Wasn’t really planning on losing the first”, he said.
”I shouldn’t make fun of it”, Kouichi said but there was still laughter in his voice, ”but you have to admit it’s a bit hilarious.”
”A bit”, Kouji admitted and leaned heavier against Kouichi’s arm. ”Sorry for… you know.”
Kouichi bumped their shoulders together.
”I forgive you. I’m sure you have a good reason for going MIA for three years.”
”I’ll add you as an ICE contact if something like this happens again.”
They started walking again. Kouichi talked about Junpei’s latest performance on the opera and Kouji mentioned his plans about going to Antarctica to see penguins. They could see the restaurant down the street and Kouichi gestured excitedly towards it. Kouji took a shaky breath. He wasn’t ready, didn’t know how to tell them what had happened and didn’t know how angry they’d be. They probably didn’t hate him, since Kouichi said they were preparing a party, but he would probably have to apologize profusely for forgetting to let them know he was alive.
Kouji rubbed his eyes. Tiredness creeped through him as he thought about all the things he would need to explain. Kouichi stopped walking.
”Are you in pain?”
”A little”, Kouji answered. ”Mostly I’m just… anxious about seeing everyone again.”
He shivered. Kouichi pulled free from Kouji’s grip and gave him a hug. Kouji held on to Kouichi.
”It’ll be fine. They’ve missed you and got very excited when you said you were coming.”
Kouji took a deep breath.
”Yeah, okay. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
He pulled free from the hug and they walked side by side the last few meters. Kouji didn’t grab Kouichi’s arm again.
Kouji’s stomach hurt. It had been so long since he talked to them. What if they didn’t want to talk to him now? He sighed. If they didn’t want him he’d just take a train somewhere else.
Kouichi patted his back and opened the door for him.
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hballegro · 2 months
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"It's more than something. It's everything."
s8e11 "Life Time"
painted screenshot. cannot give a time estimate, i lost track long ago. still gouache brush, my beloved, with blur tools to fade edges and so on
i have to go to the zoo now and will be making the version with the clock later [i cannot express how long ive been battling with hawkeye's face, gamers]. background went very fast like i said it would lol
version 2 [as in, w/ clock] will probably be done later today, and i will edit this and add it when that happens [and prolly make a separate post too, for celebration purposes, and will link them]. i will also compile progress pics for that post. they are terrifying early on lmao
"A lot of very touching songs came outta that war" previous painting
"It was pink, and perfect, and I tossed it in the scrap bucket" previous painting
everyone say thank you to bj to being a perfect painting subject today he was very polite and he looks about how i wanted unlike SOME PEOPLE
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that was me to my sibling last night, and i stayed up til 1:10ish and still didnt finish the final pass over hawkeye's eye. everything else took like 5ish minutes
also everyone say thank you to margaret and nurse kellye for also being perfect and lovely and pleasant to work with
photo used blatantly stolen from this post thank you again @remyfire i owe you my life
update edit;
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clock back
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lindensea · 1 year
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Watched Porco Rosso for the first time last night, and was really surprised at how sexist and "made by a man" it was? I can't recall ever watching a studio ghibli movie and thinking that before. It wasn't even that the female characters were written poorly because for the most part they weren't. But all the men were constantly commenting on women's appearance and bodies, hitting on a 17 yr old, there are weird shots and lines, and the female characters' plots exist for Porco Rosso's
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keeps-ache · 7 months
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it's actually very mean that i can't have emojis of my ocs just on my computer. i just think it would be much more convenient for when i have to say the Guys are in my brain but i also have no words..
#just me hi#i'm thinkin#and i mean like standard emoji. mostly bc artstreet dms don't let you put up actual images so i have to resort to detailing actual thoughts#Hfbshfv#//anywho so whenever i'm outside by myself i always get the Strongest urge to just start walking and not stop forever hfvhs#i will just Go#no objective no location. but i will be Moving#i Would do that but in order to get a satisfying amount of distance between me and People i have to walk down the road and mm i am nervous#abt doin that fvhsbh#like country roads... i may not come home.... south virginiaaaa hfbvsfhbsv#plus everyone drives crazy out here. when we moved out here we almost got sideswiped by a funkin fedex truck over a little hill#and of Course it was a fedex truck man. we've Never had a near-accident with Any usps trucks hfbvshvs#oh and also the local mailman drives like a maniac too <3 almost had a head-on collision once which was. neat lmao#like maybe 20 feet from slamming into each other which Is Not Much when you're in a car bfh#/Also people just let their dogs run out wild n crazy and :( i don't think they're properly trained to be letting them do that Aha#rode my bike out once with my brother + two of the neighbor's dogs tried ta jump us it sucked#now we don't go past their driveway so we don't ride out very far#//also hey our driveway is Ridiculous ??? ik we've been living here for like 2 years i'm still not over it lmaoohvf#it's like a 40-45 degree angle this is just silly#and listen i'm barely figuring out how my legs even work again. do you think i'm having a good time up that hill because i'm nOT#though you know what it's fine ! not many people come up our drive bc geez why Would you lmao#except for that one lady that asked for directions and then miiight have gotten lost again immediately after leaving HH#//okay. yea anyway the p1nk space is really in my brain rn hbfhvs#really i don't think i've ever been so interested in a project before this is so cool lol :D#marveling at the fact that anything was able to keep my interest for longer than 5 months Hbsh#//anywhoodle do i'm gonna skedaddle#prolly gonna rerun a couple things in a seccy but ye :33
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inbabylontheywept · 22 days
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she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway. 
after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.
(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)
anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me. 
now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable. 
so i said hey. 
and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had. 
and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.
i’m always okay. 
and she said: i’m really sorry. 
i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.
and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on. 
so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car. 
crunch. 
air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle. 
i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.
i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done. 
then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door. 
her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now. 
(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)
and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?
and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.  
and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said
stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.
and then he left.  
i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.
then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.
he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.
then we left.
i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:
brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in in, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.
and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.
---
the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember. 
and in my head, i’d say you, dad. 
i’m going to remember you.
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joeloverture · 6 months
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snowbound | dbf!j.m. x f!reader
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masterlist | updates blog | ao3 mirror pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] joel is the only guy you know with four wheel drive in the rarely-snowy state of texas, so it seems like a no-brainer to have him pick you up from work — until his truck breaks down, leaving you two to the classic 'huddle for warmth' solution. warnings: (18+ mdni) dbf!joel, age gap (assumed 20s/40s), reader borrows joel's coat, but does not wear it and uses it as a blanket, self-indulgent humor & banter, joel has sarah and she's a 15y/o menace which means liberties are taken with the timeline, blink & miss it drug mention, close proximity, unprotected piv sex, vaginal fingering, (mocking) dirty talk & dirty talk alluding to anal but no actual anal, daddy kink, degradation, dom!joel, brat!reader, brat tamer!joel, mild bondage (with a scarf), rearview mirror sex, clit stim, riding, doggy, a few pussy spanks, 2 spanks, truck sex, sort of edging, getting caught after the act [no use of y/n] word count: 12.3k a/n: this fic was a labor of love from a request i received earlier this month. i didn't expect it to be this long but i really enjoyed these two! massive massive massive shoutout to talia, @lovesickonmybed, for putting up with me + advising. this fic was way too much to handle on my own. they're the reason i pulled it off. joel is latino here, but i think game!joel can be interpreted as latino too, so read who you'd like.
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“Looking ahead for our chances at wintry precipitation tonight – measurable snow, freezing rain, or sleet. It’s hard to get snow here in central Texas – if only, huh? We’re seeing some strong flurries tonight, turning into snow showers in the early morning. Low chances of any significant build up, but you can expect hazardous driving conditions. Black ice and low visibility will make extensive travel dangerous–”
The radio in Keith’s Hardware is old fashioned, curving around the volume and tuning knobs. It’s one of the ones that still has a dial pointer, which is almost always aimed at 92.7 if Keith’s in the back (country); 96.7 (pop) if it’s just you and the only other girl that works in the carpenter’s wet dream of a store. Right now, though, it’s neither of those stations. The pointer is at 162.4, the weather station.
You’d known you were in for it on the drive into work. Watch the weather and it’s real nasty out there airing from your parents lips on your way out of the house for your eight hour shift. The drive had been a gunmetal sort of gray, clouds streaked through the sky and spitting bullets of sleet at your windshield.
For a little bit, the weather had almost cleared up. You’d sworn you’d seen a splotch of sun when you’d tried to step out for break, just to be driven back in by your too-thin jacket and the cold as balls temperature.
Now, though? It’s fucking freezing, and the flurries that the weatherman mentioned are starting to fall. And as much as you’d told Keith that your shitty two-wheel-drive couldn’t handle it, he’d insisted on scheduling you and Liz for close.
Which is where Mr. Miller comes in.
Joel Miller, your dad’s buddy. Joel Miller, the grumpiest secret-softie you’ve ever met. Joel Miller, a knight in shining armor with his 4x4 Ford F150 instead of a horse. Although, if your fantasies are correct – and you like to think they are – what’s between his thighs certainly makes up for the lack of a horse. But he isn’t bringing you for a ride on his cock. He just so happens to be the only man your dad knows with a four wheel drive vehicle, or at least the only one willing to spare you from spinning out by giving you a ride home. Just thinking about it has a knot pinching in the back of your throat. His hands, big and wide and stretching over the gear shift. One muscled arm dangling over the wheel. Looking over his goddamn shoulder to back out —
Liz hops up on the check-out counter where you’re counting up the last of the cash, a spread of Hamiltons, Grants, and Jacksons. You wouldn’t expect a girl like her to work at a hardware store, especially one in the backstreets of the seedy part of town. Some sort of family emergency had driven her back to Austin from NYU design school, which you’re thankful for. Mainly because you get out of cutting wood panels since she has the better eye for measurements, but also because after years of sulking in Keith’s, you finally have someone to talk shit with.
“Those heart eyes aren’t for fuckin’ Alexander Hamilton,” Liz says, tapping her acrylics on your ledger to get your attention. You cough, flipping her off with your pen still in-hand. Liz hums, pretending to think about it as you put down the last numbers. “Although I wouldn’t be too surprised. You do love a geriatric man.”
“Joel isn’t that old,” you scoff, arranging the bills into slim white envelopes and then licking them shut. “He’s just an… acquired taste.”
“Sure, his jizz probably tastes like prohibition-era booze–”
“What the fuck,” you wheeze, hands going out to brace yourself on the closest display case. Your head dips as your chest shakes with laughter.
Liz stays completely straight-faced as she continues, “You’ll have to have 911 on speed dial because if you clench, his heart’s giving out.”
“It is not,” you say, voice still strained with the laughs that won’t stop punching out of you.
She puts her hands up in defense and crosses her legs at the ankles. “Hey, it’s not my fault you like playing whac-a-mole with Great Depression dick.”
“Liz!” You playfully shove her off of the counter, thrusting the envelopes into her hands. “You’re nasty. Fucking nasty.”
She splays a wounded hand over her heart, fanning herself with the envelopes. “You know you love me.” She slips into the office behind the register. You hear the click of the safe before she calls over her shoulder, “Any particular reason you’re fantasizing on the clock?”
“Not fantasizing,” you refute. Liz pops out of the back with a uncertain look scrawled on her face. “My dad talked him into picking me up today so I don’t drive into a snowbank.”
“Sounds like the beginning of a shitty porno.”
“Don’t give me hope.”
“I’m just saying,” she grins. “You can still come to mine. Only a five minute walk with zero chance of rejection.”
“You have such little faith in me.”
She purses her lips. “Mkay…. Pro-tip: Keith probably has some Viagra sitting around in his desk drawers.”
“Liiiiiiiz,” you say. You’re about to tune her out completely when familiar headlights light up the wet asphalt, beaming through the windows. The engine idles, a soft rumble through the linoleum floors. The truck lights dim, leaving Joel in the buttery shine of the streetlamp. His thick arms stretch across the wheel, and he rakes one large hand through his hair. “Shit, speak of the Devil.” You clip off your nametag, tossing it into your half-open bag. “Can you finish closing tonight? I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“No problem, no favors necessary.” She closes the register. You fumble to get your bag over your shoulder, not wanting to keep Joel waiting. “Use protection!” she calls after you, and you make sure to flip her off one more time as the door clangs shut behind you.
A wall of cold hits you like a blade of lightning. Wind unfurls, mauling telephone lines and frosted treetops, rippling your jacket. Not even the worn scarf around your neck seems to be doing its job. Suddenly, every one of your limbs feels like an icicle. Joints almost freezing up, you half-jog, half-penguin strut your way to Joel’s passenger side. You wipe the ice off of the door handle with your sleeve. A few stray flurries dust you as you tug the door open, exhaling in relief as you haul yourself onto the side steps and into the toasty warmth of the Ford F150.
You cozy up in the seat, too preoccupied by thawing your hands with long, winded breaths to notice the affronted look Joel is throwing your way. “Are you tryin’ to catch your fuckin’ death, girl?”
“No death to catch. It’s not that cold.” The way you’re shivering says otherwise. Joel pins you with the raise of his brow.
Before you know what he’s doing, he’s groaning as he reaches over the center console into the backseat. You see a flash of his trucker jacket before it lands in your lap, flannel-lined and heavy. You use it like a blanket, draping it across your torso and wrestling your hands into the inside pockets. The canvas smells like car exhaust and off-brand Dollar General deodorant, two things that are so inextricably Joel. As much as you hate to admit it, the warmth is already inking its way across your skin – or maybe it’s just being next to Joel that’s heating you up. “Thanks,” you grumble.
When you adjust in your seat, the inside of your foot catches an empty Dr. Pepper can on the floor. It rattles when you accidentally kick it forward. You lean down and pick it up, going to place it down in the cupholder, only to find it overpopulated with random Home Depot and Whataburger receipts.
“Tax deductions,” he shrugs. “Gotta eat on the job.”
“And a…” You pick up the receipt and squint at the faded typography. “$3.29 strawberry milkshake is part of that, I figure?”
Joel grunts, “Tommy’s order.”
You smirk. “Sure it is.”
“Quit shit stirrin’ and put on your fuckin’ seatbelt.”
You reach back, fingers snagging it and tugging it down. Groping for the belt between the seats and the center console, it goes on for at least five seconds too long before Joel grabs the buckle and shoves it into the slot. His fingers brush your thigh as he pulls away from you and settles his foot over the gas pedal. The singular touch shouldn’t make butterflies beat at the walls of your stomach, but it does. Everything about him does.
Now that you’re all settled in, everything about him is also settling in. The fact that he’s only wearing a tight-fitting white t-shirt now that his coat is off. His sleeves are constricting enough that his muscles bulge below the strip of fabric. Ample scruff dapples his jawline, and his hair is disheveled in the way that you’ve learned you like it. You trail your eyes down his body, his tummy, across the undone drawstrings of his dark gray sweatpants, and no, you move on quickly from there, because you refuse to get riled up in the passenger seat.
He’s slowly peeling out of Keith’s parking lot, arm thrown over the back of your seat. You’re starting to fail at your mission of not getting riled up when you see the flex of his bicep, the way his eyes meet yours as he turns to look through the back window. He turns out of the parking lot and onto the relatively barren, icy streets–
“What the hell are those?”
Joel side-eyes you, brows furrowed. He follows the line of your gaze to his feet, which you’re used to seeing in New Balances or steel-toed work boots, but are instead wearing… fur-lined crocs.
“These here? Yeah, got ‘em recently, good for my days off with all this nippy weather. Sarah told me they’re ‘all the rage’ with the youth–”
You can’t help it. You damn near double over with laughter, clutching at your stomach. Joel’s coat nearly slides off of you, but you hang onto it with your pinkie finger, quickly going dizzy from lack of air. “‘All the rage’? Oh my fucking God– Joel, she was pulling your leg. Those are fucking hideous.”
“Hey, now–” He sighs, pinching his nose bridge with the hand that isn’t dangling over the wheel. “Zip it, I don’t needa justify my shoe choices to ya.”
“Does she do anything other than give you shit these days?”
“You’re one to talk about givin’ shit, y’know,” Joel says. Unfailingly, he smiles. The smile that pulls at the edges of his lips. The smile that he only ever gets when talking about Sarah. It doesn’t matter where – loading up his plate with barbecue, your dad asking him while he’s picking up junk mail in the morning, or on the job. If someone asks him about his daughter, Joel fucking beams.
He sucks on his teeth for a second, and then, “She’s picked up soccer. Goalkeeper. Damn good at it, too, all them other kids on her team can’t match her collapse dive.”
“Of course they can’t,” you say. “She’s got better reflexes than a house fly.”
Joel hunches over the wheel, effectively ending the conversation as he concentrates on the road. The only noise is the rumbling engine and the wagging of the windshield wipers as he attempts to navigate the black ice polka-dotted roads. It shouldn’t be as arousing as it is, seeing him in such a state of focus, his thighs tensed as he manipulates the gas and brakes to stop early, start slow. His arms thickening when he makes a right turn. Thumbs drumming drumming drumming on the wheel and maybe they’d do the same between your legs—
“So how’s work?” you blurt out.
Joel mumbles something that you can’t quite make out.
“Huh?”
“Fuckin’ ‘big shot’ gringos up my ass all day. Goddamn shitshow.” He shakes his head, his lips thinned. “I tell ‘em terraforming is gonna make it look like a Flinstone-owned-and-operated putt-putt course. They say do it anyway. I tell ‘em that orderin’ custom windows is gonna put us months behind. They say do it anyway, then come up jibber-jabberin’ all ‘bout how long it’s takin’. And it’s fuckin’... window madness, not one window in that hellhole matches another. Ain’t had so much trouble buildin’ a house since Sarah had me build her one from Hobby Lobby when she was little. Their architect musta been doin’ lines.”
You think you’ve seen Sarah’s dollhouse before when visiting, just in passing when the guest bedroom door was left open a smidge. You remember stalling in the hallway to look at it, with a fleece of dust growing on the tediously placed shingles and the oakwood front door left open like it’d been waiting for someone to come home. But Sarah outgrew it, and although Joel would never admit it, you know he’s too sentimental to leave it on the curb.
“How bad can building a dollhouse from a kit be?”
“With a five year old yellin’ like a drill sergeant in your ear? Worse than you think. She even made me rig the damn thing with electric so she could have her pink chandelier.”
You pout at him, “Wah wah, I’ll bet you loved it.”
“Was a nuisance at the time. But, uh, she was fiddlin’ with some ‘a the dolls I’d gotten her. Don’t think she knew I was watchin’, had gone to put ‘er to bed ‘cause it was a school night. She was readin’ this book I always read to her. Something about… a stuffed bear with a missin’ button and a girl that was tryna to buy him. I don’t fuckin’ know–” “Corduroy?”
“Yeah, that. Anyway, she was reading, usin’ the same tone I always used with her, tucked her dolls in for the night, and switched off the lights. I don’t think I loved it until then.” There’s a glistening in his eyes at the memory.
You smirk, “Sentimental bastard–”
The truck slides. Or maybe it coasts, skimming across the thin film of black ice. Joel eases down on the brakes, hauling to a stop next to a Minivan with its warning lights on. It’s a long stretch, and you can’t even see all the way down the highway with how thick the snow is. No two snowflakes are the same, but you find it difficult to believe when you’re looking at what must be millions of them. They pirouette, landing on window panes, rooftops, and wind-agonized tree branches. Everything is blotted with white. Red warning lights glare on the ice back at you.
“Shiiit,” Joel says as he squints at the road ahead of him. He scratches at his scruff.
“Tell me you’re not going to drive through that shit.”
“I’m not,” he says.
“Then how the fuck are we getting home?”
“Chill it–” “That’s the last thing I need to do,” you huff.
“I’m takin’ the detour.”
With that, he jerks the wheel — a bit too recklessly considering the weather, in your opinion – and pulls off onto a slippery backroad. The snow seems to have clung to the trees more back here, a sort of incandescent saran wrap over the oaks. At a bend in the road, icicles hang from a yellow sign that says CURVE 30 MPH. Joel takes it at ten.
You’re not checking out his hands while he drives, no, of course not. You’re looking at the gazillion lights on his dashboard display. “You usually have that many lights on?”
“Ain’t your truck, ain’t your business.”
“I’m ridin’ in it, ain’t I?” you mock his accent. 
Joel sighs heavily. “Drivin’ me up the fuckin’ wall.” His hands clench briefly around the wheel. “Auto repair shop’s been price gouging, I’m tryin’ to get Tommy to hook me up with his buddy in San Anton–”
“Won’t be able to drive to San Antonio if your bumper falls off halfway there.”
Joel’s voice is dry as bone. “Ha ha. You get off on bein’ a smartass?”
It’s three words – that’s all it is. Just a throwaway phrase that he probably doesn’t even realize he said. If it were anything more, you’d know. But Joel, saying those words in that order? Damn him, because it turns your blood effervescent. You stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together underneath his coat. You’re about to make another quip that’ll not only distract you, but also surely drive Joel up the wall, one of your favorite activities.
His truck putters from ten miles per hour to eight.
Eight to six.
Six to four.
“Motherfuckin’.... shit,” Joel says again, this time much more urgent as he wrests the wheel to the side. The truck skims over the frosted roads and onto the shoulder, rolls for two seconds, and then falls to a complete, utter stop. The windshield wipers pause while they’re still up. Heat no longer spits out of the dusty air vents.
It’s the loudest silence you’ve ever been in.
“...So do you get off on letting your truck break down or–”
Joel sighs in the way that dogs do. “Thin ice, missy.” He unbuckles his seatbelt and pulls out his phone. “I’ll give Tommy a call.” He stares at the screen for ten seconds. Taps it. Shakes it.
“No service?” you ask.
“No service.”
“Let me try mine,” you mumble, shifting in the car seat. Sure enough, zero bars. Even though you know it won’t work, you press your dad’s contact. It goes straight to voicemail. “Well, shit.”
“Shit,” Joel echoes.
It’s unspoken, but you both know the harsh reality of this harsh wintry night: no phone service, no operational truck, and… no heater.
“Hang tight,” Joel says, reaching over the center console and hijacking his coat from your lap. He wrestles his arms through the sleeves and zips it up. He shoves the door open against the hoarse wind that keeps the trees at a slant, hops out, then slams it shut hard enough for the vehicle to rock. From how hard the wind was blowing, stray flurries dust the truck’s interior.
You can’t really see what he’s doing – the snow’s too heavy, the hood popped wide open for him to investigate the truck’s viscera. You run your hands up and down your thighs, already feeling cold. Without the heater, it won’t be much longer before you turn to an icicle in the passenger seat. The hood bangs back down.
Joel climbs in from the backseat, slams the door as hard as humanly possible, and then scoots to the middle seat. 
You crane your neck to see him as he shakes out his cold-reddened hands before puffing air into his cupped palms. “What’s wrong with it?” You ask. 
He lets out a frigid breath. “Don’t fuckin’ know, snowin’ too damn hard to tell.”
“Ten bucks it was one of the lights on your dash,” you say.
Joel glares at you, still huffing into his hands. His fingertips are bright red to match his ruddy cheeks. Snow is sprinkled through his hair like soot, quickly melting to beads of water on his windblown curls.
“Got some… hand warmers up in that glovebox. Grab the whole pack.”
You lean forward, kneeing it open and rifling through all of his shit. Insurance papers, more receipts, Miller Contracting business cards, a folded pocket knife, lens wipes, and –
“When’s the last time these saw daylight?” you huff out a laugh as you hold up a battered box of condoms. 
Turns out, snow isn’t the thing that makes Joel Miller redder than a tomato. It’s the fifteen year old, very expired condoms hiding in his glovebox.
He clears his throat and averts his eyes. “Jesus. Forgot those were in there.”
You shake the box around and pluck a condom out of it. Looking for the expiration date, you turn it over and over in your hand. “August 31st, 2004. Really that long since you got some, Miller?”
“Put ‘em back,” he grumbles. “Pain in my ass.”
You snicker, replacing the condom box with the box of hand warmers. They’re unopened, still sealed. You snatch Joel’s keys out of the ignition and swipe them across the tape. “Happy?” you toss them over your shoulder.
“No.” He tears open the pack and rubs his hands together around the warmer, sighing when it begins to heat.
“Dick,” you grumble.
More tearing. “Brat.” Another warmer lands in your lap.
“Oughta get comfortable. We’re gonna be here a while,” Joel says.
“And whose fault is that?” You ask as you weigh the warmer in your palms. The front seat already feels cramped, and you’re quick to unbuckle your seatbelt. Your legs and arms fold like pretzels as you climb into the backseat. The curse that leaves you when you hit your head on the roof has Joel rolling his eyes.
“Pipe down. First thing in the mornin’ I’ll make the walk out to that country club a mile out and use their phone. Just gotta ride out the night. You ain’t ever roughed it before?”
You fall on all fours on the backseat, finally pulling yourself upright next to him. “Never had a reason to. Like, what if I have to piss? What if I get hungry?”
Joel shrugs. “Tough.”
The cold is starting to settle into your bones. Even your tongue feels popsicle numb, and your fingers are stiff where they wrap around the warmer. It’s like you’ve been trapped in a snowglobe and shaken up by a handsy toddler with how the wind rattles the truck and the snow swishes outside. You suppress a shiver, leaning against the door. Condensation is already building on the windows. Absent-mindedly, you begin to trace a portrait of Joel in the moisture. Your fingertip squeaks against the glass. Your masterpiece wouldn’t be complete without his signature scowl, so you’re sure to paint a frown on his face and his forehead wrinkles on thick.
“Didn’t know you were an artist,” Joel comments from the opposite side of the back. “Looks nothin’ like me, by the way.”
You smirk, “But you knew it was you.”
Because there’s nothing better to do than burn time, you spend the next ten minutes filling up the window with whatever nonsense doodles come to mind — hearts, stars, trees, and of course, the only one that Joel seems to be fond of: Sarah, smiling and curly-haired.
Reality only settles in when you’re done with the ephemeral illustrations, their outlines starting to dissolve back to regular droplets that streak down the windows. You’re stuck, for God knows how long, on this shady backroad that the Zodiac Killer would’ve loved during his heyday. With your dad’s best friend that you’ve been harboring a dangerous crush on.
And it’d be impossible to forget that it’s freezing fucking balls.
“Joel?” you say into the dark truck.
“Hm?”
Always one to speak your mind, you say, “It’s freezing fucking balls.”
A sound that might be a laugh leaves him. “Here,” Joel says, unzipping his jacket. He tosses it over to you, and you snuggle back up with it, nose burrowing into one of the creases in the fabric. His coat smells like him – like cheap body wash, chewing gum, and gasoline. 
You try putting your hands in the pockets, even going as far as to open up a new hand warmer for each one, but they’re full of loose change and, expectedly, more receipts. When you curl up against the corner between the door and the seat, the hard plastic bites into your oversensitive back. Sitting upright or cross-legged doesn’t work, and when you test drive sitting diagonally with your feet propped up on the console, Joel makes a disproving noise and swats gently at your shin. You prop your forehead up against the window, but it’s cold enough to give you a brain freeze. 
“Jesus Christ,” Joel snorts. “Get over ‘ere, you wuss.” He hauls you over, big hand splayed over your waist, and drags you across the bench to his side. You yelp in surprise, but only for a second before you’re crushed against Joel’s side. “Can’t have ya gettin’ hypothermia,” he jests.
You don’t know where to put your hands, but eventually, you settle on cupping his neck. Touching Joel, hell, even just being near him, is like being by an open furnace. Or maybe the heat is just your stomach doing somersaults at being this close to Joel after years of frivolous pining. His nape emanates warmth, the kind that flows down your arms and wraps comfortingly around your chest.
Joel exhales, the tendrils of his breath curling from the frigidity. He grabs his coat from the side and flattens it over the both of you, a piss poor replacement for a blanket, but all you’ve got.
Still, cold seeps in through the cracks in the doors, spoiling whatever lukewarm air remains. It doesn’t help that Joel had hopped in and out of the truck to play eye spy under the hood. The truck struggles to hold onto heat properly, especially when it isn’t producing more of it.
Joel sort of… flickers against your back. You think nothing of it until it happens again, this time in short bursts, and then turns into full on shivering.
“Who’s the wuss now, old man?”
Joel tenses up behind you. “Funny,” he says. With your hands cushioned against his neck, you feel the grate of his voice in his throat. “This is the best you’re gonna get unless you wanna be butt ass naked to share heat.”
It should be a joke. But the way he says it… doesn’t sound like a joke.
You go still, lifeless, not even sure if you’re shaking anymore. Because now, the only thought in your head is being pressed against Joel, his soft cock hardening against you, his palms splayed and rubbing over your stomach to keep you warm. And if his cock needed to get somewhere warmer, too…. Your clit twitches at the thought.
You smother the initial shock in your voice with your usual solution: sass. “So what, we’re gonna fuckin’ huddle for warmth?”
As much as you enjoy the idea, you're already dripping — and that’s just from your body being pressed against his, breathing the same air as him, closer now than you’ve ever been before. With no panties in the way, it’s not a stretch to say you’d be dripping down his thighs. You’d hate to have that conversation.
“Would you rather freeze to death?” Joel asks. You look up at him from where you’re curled into his side and find no gleam in his eyes. This isn’t just some knee-slapper for him. Joel Miller is being completely, irreversibly serious.
“I’d rather something less like Naked and Afraid, Joel!”
“It works,” he says, nose flaring. “They do it in those fuckin’... action movies all ‘a the time.”
“I didn’t know Hollywood was writing survival manuals for pervs–”
“God, you’re a piece ‘a work, ya know that?” His eyes flick down to you, and maybe it’s just the fact that this road is damn near pitch black, but his pupils seem larger than before. “Listen, I ain’t tryna perv on ya. I also ain’t tryna send you back to your old man with four fingers missin’ from frostbite.”
There’s no way you’re actually seriously considering this. You’ve heard of cold temperatures impairing thinking, but not like this. Your dad’ll go chasing after Joel with a pitchfork and a shovel if he finds out the man who was supposed to get you home safe and sound was cuddling naked with you. Cuddling naked with you in the backseat, no less. You’re certain Joel won’t try anything – he’s not like that. No matter how flustered you get in his lap, he’d never take advantage of you. What you aren’t certain of is your ability to stop yourself from asking him t0 take advantage of you.
This is practical. It’s only supposed to be practical. He wouldn’t be suggesting something this drastic if you both weren’t shaking like a rattlesnake’s rattler.
“Fine,” you say, already unwinding your scarf from around your neck. Determined to keep some semblance of boundaries up, you add, “No peeping, Miller.”
Joel makes an exasperated sound as you once again scoot out from his coat and across the bench, working yourself out of your shoes, your cotton zip-up, and then the stiff Keith’s uniform – a blue polo and jeans. Joel’s eyes are respectfully trained on the truck’s floor mats, which you’re only just now noticing has a sun-bleached Lisa Frank sticker tacked onto it. 
Down to your bra and panties, your heart rate picks up. Your fingers are so fucking cold that it’s hard to get your bra straps out of the way so you can unclasp the damned thing, and then it falls to the floor. Your nipples harden in the face of the cold. The only thing you keep is your scarf, which do you do your best to cover your tits with. Scooping up your discarded clothes and tossing them to the front seat, you let out a shaky breath.
Fuck it.
You shimmy out of your panties and get rid of them just as quickly. When you try telling Joel you’re decent, or rather indecent, nothing comes out. Instead, you have to clear your throat with a strained,  “All good.”
“Alright,” Joel says, rustling around. You hear his crocs scrape against the mat, and then his shirt swishing over his head.
He doesn’t tell you to look away, but since it’s implied, you look out of the window. The snowy trees tremble in the wind, and you almost wince when you see a small sliver of his tanned skin reflected in the glass. His crocs clunk on the ground when he kicks them off, and you watch his criminally tight t-shirt go flying over the passenger seat. You casually grip the Jesus handle, hoping that Joel doesn’t notice your fist tightening around it when you hear him untying the drawstrings of his sweatpants. When his sweats and boxers follow the path of his shirt, breathing gets a lot harder than you remember it being.
Just an hour ago, you’d been certain that this would be nothing more than a ten minute drive. Maybe, if you were lucky, he’d call you a casual pet name that would fuel the wriggling of your hand between your thighs that night. 
The tension in the air is thicker than molasses. Each breath you take is fragile.
“I’m ready when you are,” Joel says.
Since you’re already half-naked, and since chickening out is out of the question, you inch over to Joel’s side. The air tumbles out of your lungs in one fell swoop when your bicep meets his. With some fidgeting, you bring your legs up at an angle beneath you, wrapping around his side in a way that has you feeling a little bit like a koala. You talk yourself into keeping your eyes forward and then scrub your palms across your freezing arms.
Joel, more indifferent than you think anyone else in this situation could be, abruptly casts his coat back over the both of you.
And, fuck him, he’d been right. The engulfing canvas of his coat keeps warmth trapped where it can be passed easily between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just being confined and skin-to-skin with Joel that has you heating up.
The silence is cruel – it’s much harder to make conversation about work or dollhouses or whatever the hell else when you’re naked. Only the wind’s sibilance keeps you company.
You can get used to this, you think. Drift off into a somewhat sound sleep with your head on Joel’s shoulder and hope that you don’t drool all over him or moan his name in your sleep. More embarrassing things have happened to you.
But then, as if you’re the unluckiest person alive, the temperature drops even more, and suddenly, you’re shaking like a leaf all over again. Your teeth almost clack together as you try to stammer out to Joel, “C–cold, Jesus fucking… Christ that’s cold.”
Joel pouts down at you, but you don’t miss the way his lip quivers. “Should I call the wambulance?”
“Should I call the r–r–r–retirement home to pi…pick up a ru–runaway resident?” It sounded a lot better in your head than bouncing off of your frozen tongue, you have to admit.
“Drama queen,” Joel mutters into your ear. “Can’t do anythin’ more about it. Sorry–”
“Can I sit on your lap?” you blurt out so quickly that you don’t even have time to think about it. You grimace, partially covering your face with your hands. Shit.
Joel’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?”
You’re already half doomed. Why not go all the way? “Listen, it’s just fucking… fucking freezing, Joel. Holy shit.”
“That bad?” he chokes out.
“You’d be warmer than the seats,” you defend. “I’ll be careful, I promise. Best behavior.”
Joel seems to ponder it for a moment, brows stitched together while he looks down at you from where you’re furled up against his side. He gnaws on the inside of his cheek before giving you a slight nod. “Alright.” You nod in return, heart in your throat. “–But you better mean it when you say best behavior. Can’t have any ‘a this shit gettin’ back to your dad.”
Another nod. You hold your breath as you shinny your way onto Joel’s lap, mounting him from the front so his chest hits your back. In your attempt to get comfortable, you bracket your legs around his. His soft cock fits at the small of your back, and even though he’s as flaccid as can be, he’s big. Apparently your imagination isn’t too far off. Joel’s sharp intake of breath forms a pit in your stomach, and you know when you’re warming up for an entirely different reason than close proximity, you also know that you need to calm yourself down. Fast.
Think of something awful. Like that time that you had to dissect cow eyes in sophomore year biology. Think about mold. How many murderers you’ll walk by in your lifetime. Expired leftovers. Anything–
You adjust yourself in an attempt to get away from Joel’s cock. Instead, your hips move just so his cock slips between your thighs and bobs against your slit.
You whine.
Your body immediately locks up once you realize what you’ve done. Crawling out of the truck to die a hypothermia-induced death seems like a much kinder fate than facing Joel, but no matter how much you scream at yourself to reach out and unlock the door, your hands refuse to move. You hadn’t noticed how wet you’d gotten, and you have no idea how. It’s smeared across your thighs, and now pressed up against your back after Joel’s dick had dragged through it all.
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit–
Chancing a look over your shoulder, you’re surprised to find the tips of Joel’s ears flushed, cheeks cherry ripe. His Adam’s apple bobs when you meet his eyes. Holy fuck.
You’ve flustered him.
For some reason, the thought makes your chest a lot lighter. You look away nonetheless, but this time, with a newfound gleam in your eye. There’s no such thing as a bad accident, right?
Maybe Liz was right about having to call 911, because when you ‘accidentally’ repeat the movement, Joel stops breathing all together. His cock, almost hard now, you’ve noticed, bumps against your clit. You almost swallow your tongue trying to keep your moan down.
“The fuck you think you’re doin’?” he asks, his gruff voice scratching at your ears.
“I didn’t mean to,” you lie straight through your teeth, a smug little grin spreading on your face. Something about his semi-hard cock between your bodies tells you he’s going to say no to your next suggestion. “Maybe you should put the coat between us, instea–”
“Are you outta your fuckin’ mind, girl?” Joel’s voice comes out raspy. He shakes his head, clears his throat. The vibrations rumble up your spine. “And take away the whole point of stayin’ warm? Now quit it. Ain’t that hard to sit still.”
You try your hand at listening – for all of two seconds.
You hike your hips up, fumbling with his coat as you slot his cock against your slit once more, pushing yourself forward. The coat slides right off of you, falling in a dark lump on the floor. Neither of you care — you’re both too heated for the lack of cover to make a damn difference. Joel hisses, a sound like water hitting an open flame. His hands fly down to your waist, anchoring you to his lap. A surprised noise squeaks out of you.
“What, you got rocks rattlin’ around in your brain?” Joel scowls. “You’re real impolite for a cocktease, sweetheart.”
Butterflies flap around in your stomach from his words. It’s enough to make your head tip against his chest so you can look up at him, lips shaped in a perfect pout. “I’m not,” you say.
“Not a cocktease, huh? Not even when you’re rubbin’ all over my lap?”
You gasp as your hands fly down to cover Joel’s, nails etching into where his fingers meet your bare skin. You tug at his wrist, trying desperately to guide him where you so desperately need him.
“Not happenin’,” Joel grunts, yanking your hands behind you and pinning them to your waist like you’re nothing more than a poseable doll. His large, work-worn hands make yours look damn near miniature as he holds you down. The sudden roughness douses your inner thighs with a new wave of wetness. “Jesus, girl. Poor thing, gettin’ all hot and bothered. Don’t blame ya for tryna get me to help out. Can feel ya dripping down my legs, gushin’ like a sprinkler.”
“S–sorry, fuck, ‘m sorry,” you whisper, words sticky with your arousal. Your clit twitches from his words, embarrassment and need doing all the work to keep you warm.
“Nahhh,” he says. “I don’t think you are, baby.” Maybe it’s the condescension he’s purring in your ear, maybe it’s the pet name; most likely, it’s a combination of both that has you convulsing in his lap. It’s like he’s found all of the right buttons to press to get you riled up, getting you back for all of your snide comments earlier. 
His fingers find the fabric of your scarf, luring it off of your neck so he can cord it around your wrists. You squirm when you realize what he’s doing, and a breathless huff of his laughter brushes your cheek. “I’ll be damned if you ain’t gonna be, though.” He draws it tight, tight enough for you to feel your pulses bumping into each other. Joel leaves a fair amount of your unreasonably long scarf loose.
“Joel, what the fuck are you up to?”
“Teachin’ you some sweet southern belle etiquette, darlin’. Such a goddamn troublemaker, grindin’ on me like I’m some kinda… frat boy.” He shakes his head, disbelieving. “Pullin’ that shit with your pops’ friend. Real fuckin’ classy.”
“Like you’re so different. Who’s the one that’s tying me up? Huh, Mil–”
You hear the hit well before you feel it, a firm whack to your cunt that makes your vision blacken and electricity scurrying up your spine. It takes you a second to come back to yourself before a ragged cry pulls its way out of your lips. You jolt in his lap, bound arms bobbing in front of you as your body instinctively lurches for control. You damn near kick your feet, accidentally ricocheting yourself into Joel’s chest. His forearms hold you there. 
“Guess I’ll make it crystal clear for ya, baby, since that dumb lil’ head ‘a yours is havin’ some trouble. My truck, my rules. You’re ridin’ in it, ain’t you?” You nod reluctantly as he turns your words from earlier in his favor. “That was a warnin’, you showoff. Think you can bat your slutty ‘fuck me’ eyes an’ get away with murder.” He fucking tsks at you.
He pulls his hand away from your pussy, and you’re both surprised and not surprised at all to see it covered in your arousal, webbed between his calloused fingers. 
“Got a whole goddamn slip ‘n slide down here…” murmurs Joel. You whine, bucking your hips against him. “Oughta just…” he starts, nudging his cock towards your hole. The noise you make is pathetic. “Stop ya from ruinin’ my seats. Cork you right up.” You tense up, fully expecting the intrusion, but his dick passes your cunt right up, instead sliding up to meet your clit. It taps against your swollen nub, and if his goal was to stop you from ruining his seats, you’re certain he’s already failed with how quickly you gush all over the upholstery.
“But that’d be real nice, wouldn’t it? Givin’ ya what ya want so early on…” Instead of pulling away like you expect, Joel griiiinds the head of his cock against your clit. You moan helplessly, head falling back across his shoulder.
And then he does it again.
And again.
And agai–
“Joooooel,” you whine, knees jerking each time his tip meets your most sensitive spot. Heat spins in your stomach.
He backs his hips up “What? Thought you loved this with how much you were gettin’ at it earlier.”
You shake your head rapidly in the negative, chest rising and falling at a breakneck pace while he teases you.
“So you can deal, but you can’t play?”
“I think you’re just taking your sweet old time getting it up, old man,” you grit out, knowing damn well he’s stiffer than titanium behind you.
Joel hums. “Ah, she’s got jokes.” His cock slips back, quickly replaced by his hand engulfing your mound. Your clit twitches ever so slightly against his palm lines, and you’re almost convinced you could get off from that alone. His palm cracks against your cunt again, somehow even harder than the first time. You cry out, eyes burning from arousal and the slightest edge of pain.
With his thumbpad, he taps your clit like he’s just scrolling through the cable guide with a remote. Fleeting movements that have you wanting more more more. It heals the sting of his slap even if the echo of the hit still simmers in your stomach. Your cunt throbs so hard that it hurts, jumping up to meet Joel’s scarce ministrations.
When he retracts his hand, your hips chase the movement. “See this?” he taunts, fluttering his wet fingers in front of your face. You make a choked noise when his drenched middle finger breaches your lips. He doesn’t even need to tell you; you latch on and suck yourself off of his calloused skin. You’re mostly salty, but a little sweet, and tasting yourself on your own tongue by his insistence manages to make you even wetter.
Joel takes his spare fingers, just as soaked, and smears them all around your chin and lower cheeks. He presses down on your tongue as he does. You gag from the pressure, and you can’t hear his laugh over the roaring of your blood in your ears, but you feel it rattle his chest where it meets your spine. Your slick cools quickly against your burning skin, syrupy as it clings to your face. “Need a bib, baby?”
He pulls his finger from your mouth with a pop and your scarf-wrapped hands spring to wipe yourself from your lips, hoping to save yourself from the humiliation of having your own pussy juice anointing your face. You only scoop up a little before Joel lowers his forearm over yours, but for once, you’re faster than him. You swipe your wet hand over his mouth, smudging as much as you can along the scruff surrounding his mouth.
He wraps a burly hand in the scarf and yanks your hands back into place. All you can do in response is giggle, but the breath is swiftly knocked out of you when he drives his cock right into your clit. “Think you’re funny, don’t ya?” He asks, and finally grunts as he rolls his hip into you. A break in his resolve, a sign that he wants this, or at least the discipline of this, as badly as you do.
You almost weep from the pressure, that rope of pleasure in your stomach that he keeps knotting tighter and tighter and tighter with each stroke of his cock, his fingers. “Joel!” you cry out as he follows it up with another firm swat to your clit. His cock spreads your folds as he softens the bashing, nuzzling his tip against your spasming cunt.
“Really, oughta give standup a go one ‘a these days. Be a real hotshot.”
“Oh yeah?” you pant, light headed and woozy.
“Mhm. If the whole crowd’s drunk.” His cock nudges your nub with a new vigor.
“Assh–”
Right as you’re about to press down and follow the sensation, Joel senses it. His cock gives way through your cheeks, just in time for him to land a ruthless slap across your pussy. It’s harder than the others – makes your ears ring for a second, gives you a sort of visual snow that has you doubling over and gripping at the closest object for purchase, which just so happens to be the metal rods coming out of the headrest. 
“Ain’t what you should be sayin’ if you’re plannin’ on gettin’ what you want, sugar,” Joel tuts. He shakes his head at you. “Don’t wanna hear no lip from ya, girl.”
You open your mouth, argument on the tip of your drool-loaded tongue, but your halfhearted attempt at defiance doesn’t last long. Joel’s hand clamps around your chin, denting your skin into your teeth. He jerks your head to face him, knocking you down a peg with scathing eye contact. “You’re pushin’ it.” He loosens his grip.
“As if, Miller. If those pre-Cold War condoms are anything to go by, you’ve been dying for a chance to get your dick wet. Doesn’t matter how much lip I give you, you aren’t gonna blue ball yourself for much longer.” Satisfied, you raise your brows at him.
Turns out, he is going to blue ball himself for much longer, because he lands six slaps in rapid succession across your sopping cunt. The skin smarts, and you cry out. Your grip tightens around the headrest rod to the point of strangling it. Your eyes water, and you can’t tell if you’re crying. Too consumed by Joel, everything has melted into him – the smell of sawdust perpetually sewn into his skin, his cock sealed against your body.
“How many times are ya gonna poke the bear before you learn your lesson, you cheeky little shit?” Joel’s palm cups the inside of your right thigh, just above the knee. He traces circles with his thumb, and heat trails after him with everywhere he touches. “See, the thing about havin’ ‘pre-Cold War condoms’ is that I’ve had a helluva lot more time to learn self control than you. Can wait as loooooong as it takes for you to get your head on right. Don’t matter if you’re waterfallin’ down my seats or not, pretty girl. I’m giving you exactly what ya deserve.”
You whimper, trying (and failing) to get your magma hot core closer to Joel’s unfairly large hand, still splayed out on your inner thigh. You can’t stop how you squirm in his lap, smearing your arousal everywhere with each movement you make.
At a snail’s pace, his hand begins to inch up your leg. Joel pauses to grope at you as his hand travels upward. Handfuls of your skin, rubbing at your scalding hot thighs. Your patience is wearing thin by the time he gets midway there. You need him to touch you. And that’s just the tip of this impossibly destructive iceberg.
You shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t have let him go down this shitty backroad, shouldn’t have agreed to your dad’s ridiculous idea of Joel picking you up, shouldn’t have asked to be naked on his lap, shouldn’t have gotten naked on his lap, shouldn’t be leaking like a twenty-year-old pipe in a building he’d been hired to renovate. If your dad ever finds out–
“Joel, please, please – plea…” you trail off, dissolving into incoherent whimpers as his hand hovers over your cunt. You’re running hotter than a radiator now, and if you both wanted to be warm, then you’ve got your wish. Although mostly gibberish, Joel has to understand what you want from him. It’s just that the bastard is unwilling to provide.
Joel reaches down to pinch your clit, and your body can’t even discern from pleasure and pain anymore. You react the same to it all, back arching as you try desperately to plant yourself on his cock. “Shhh, shhh, quit runnin’ your filthy mouth. Only gonna get yourself into more trouble.”
You swear you hear angels singing, swear you see the pearly gates when he gives your clit a merciful rub. Melting into him, you exhale shakily.
“See? All nice ‘n quiet when she’s gettin’ what she wants.” You wouldn’t even dream of mouthing off to him now.
“I want – I need…” you gasp out, putty in his hands. Moldable to his liking. Everything you’d pretended not to want.
“Go on,” he coos. “Tell daddy what you need.”
You don’t even hear him say that word. You’re too hooked on begging, begging, begging. “Please – Joel, oh god, please – I need… I need… please please please, fuck, it hurts–”
Joel clicks his tongue. “Nuh uh. Start over. Always such a chatterbox ‘cept for when I need ya to be.”
“Wha…?” you ask, admittedly dazed from the harsh treatment that you’ve come to crave more of.
“Tell daddy what you need,” he repeats, words molasses slow.
You clench, gushing even more all over him. Shit, your next paycheck might have to go to replacing the goddamn seats if you keep up like this.
“D–D… D-” you start stammering out, but you’ve lost autonomy over your body long ago, and apparently that goes for your tongue, too. “Da– Da… pl–”
“Any day now,” he scoffs.
“Daddy!” you spit out all at once. “Please, please, daddy, fuck – fuck me, daddy, please, I want your cock, daddy. Feels so fucking big. Need it daddy, it hurts… please, ngh– daddy!” Tears are burning the corners of your eyes, fueled almost entirely by arousal and partially by frustration. You squirm, cunt crying all over the place. 
“M’kay, baby,” he says. Running a hand down your chest and squeezing your nipple on the way down. He slides his hand down your stomach to cup your mound, giving your clit slow, gentle circles. Your hips jump forward, and this time, he doesn’t stop you. “Daddy’s got ya.”
At the first intrusion of his middle finger in your cunt, you jump. It’s a lot compared to what he’s been giving you, but nowhere near enough. A second finger slips inside. He doesn’t have to do much work to stretch you out — you’ve been seeping out of you since you first got on his lap. He’s all too quick thrusting them in and out of you – the messy squelch of your pussy filling the backseat has you burying your chin against your chest, averting your eyes. The heel of his palm bumps persistently at your clit with each shift of his fingers inside of you.
“I know you ain’t a virgin, but you’re soakin’ like one. Too damn cocksure to ain’t have had a cock in ya before. Prancin’ around like a glorified dick trap.” You inhale sharply when his fingers scrape that spongy spot inside of you that you can never reach yourself. A moan rips out of you. The combination of him talking down to you and rubbing your g-spot has you dangerously close to cumming. Your moan is quickly swallowed up by more of Joel’s condescension. 
He starts mumbling to himself then, obscenities that make you clench even tighter around his fingers. “Gonna get you all sore baby, make you regret beggin’ for this dick like a horny ‘lil bitch that ain’t ever been laid in her life. Fuck you so hard you’ll be cryin’ for daddy’s cock up your ass instead, turn you into an anal slut, too.” He’s too busy listening to himself talk, too absorbed in his own world to feel you balancing on that razor-thin edge.
The noise you make is inhuman. You pulse around him, doing your best to stave off your impending release. “Daddy–” you warn, but he cuts you off then, too. Joel grinds his cock between your ass cheeks, his precum dripping down your slit to meet your trembling cunt. 
“Ever been fucked here before baby?” He swipes his tip along your asshole, and the way you shudder is answer enough for him. “Don’t get all jumpy, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna fuck ya there right now. Be cruisin’ for a bruisin’.” Still, he replaces his tip with his free hand’s thumb, simply rubbing at the ring of muscle. You fidget in his lap without an end-goal. You just want to be close to him, want to take everything he’s willing to give you. His fingers hook just right inside of you. “Would love to be the first to unlock this pretty backdoor. If this tight ‘lil pussy’s anything to go by… Christ. You’d look so pretty squirmin with my cock in your ass, baby–”
“Daddy!” You scream as your orgasm guts you. His fingers and his voice rip your climax right out of you and your cum streams down your inner thighs and Joel’s hand, still smacking against your clit with each thrust. Your cunt spasms around his flexing fingers. He has to fold an arm over your chest to keep you from sliding off his slippery lap entirely.
All the way through the aftershocks that make your limbs quake, Joel holds you upright against his body, still bumping his palm and fingertips against your clit and g-spot. You swear you can feel him smiling against your shoulder.
“Didn’t tell ya you could cum, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, flicking his cum covered finger across your clit. You wince in overstimulation, a whine catching in your throat.
“‘M sorry, daddy,” you pant. His hands go up to 
“‘S okay, babygirl. Pretty pussy couldn’t help it when I was talkin’ ‘bout fuckin’ your ass, huh?” His hands rove up your stomach to play with your tits, palming and stroking, getting his hands all over every carnal part of you.
You hum into his bicep, “Mmmm.”
“That’s alright. Don’t mean you’re gettin’ away with a slap on the wrist though. C’mon, up,” he guides with a small slap to your thigh. You adjust, bringing yourself onto your knees so he can enter you from behind. You look down at his sturdy thighs, flexing as he adjusts himself between your legs. He gives you one more teasing thrust through your thighs, poking your oversensitive clit one more time before reaching down to spread your folds.
You moan as he presses against your entrance, and it’s not the best time to have a come to Jesus moment, but – Joel’s size was in no way over exaggerated between your legs. You stiffen in realization, and Joel, attentive as always, notices. He guides your chin to face him and nuzzles his nose up against yours, mouth tracing down to your lips. Your breath mingles, stagnant in the long-forgotten chill. A cushion of softness against all of his spiky edges that showed up tonight. “You’re on top, baby. Take it as slow or as fast as ya want.”
Nodding at the reminder, you find yourself that you don’t want to take it slow. You want to be as sore as he’d promised, want to feel him for days and be reminded of this every time you look at the winter morning’s frost on the shingles outside.
Sinking down over his throbbing length yanks the air out of your lungs as you seat yourself with him bottoming out and going balls deep in your cunt simultaneously. He grunts against you in surprise, softening the blow of your heady moan. “Attagirl,” he huffs into the crease between your neck and shoulder. It’s a stretch, searing up your thighs and to your lower back. You’re brought back to yourself when Joel rolls his hips into you, making the pain liquefy into mind-numbing pleasure. You spend thirty seconds waiting for him to fuck up into you in a way that changes your philosophy around the world, but instead, he’s still and solid inside of you.
“Go on,” Joel coaxes, placing a steady hand just shy of your mound. “Gotta prove you deserve to cum again.” He taps your thigh as if he’s telling you to giddy up, and the shame warms the back of your neck better than any heater ever could.
You whimper. His hands coast up your thighs, squeezing your hips tight before falling to grip the seats below. You’re still weak from your last orgasm, shaky legs struggling to hold yourself up as it is. “Daddy… I can’t…” 
“Ain’t no different than fuckin’ y’self on that vibrator or dildo or whatever the fuck’s in your nightstand. Girl like you, gotta have a wimpy ‘lil fucktoy somewhere.” His words make you clench around him, and he groans into your neck. Joel looks up at the front window, now covered in snowflakes. He smirks when he spots the rearview mirror. “Oughta make you watch yourself. Show a pathetic, cockstarved slut what happens when she bites off more than she can chew.” At that, you mewl, grinding yourself down. The chuckle he lets out is lined with cruelty.
Joel pins you to his chest with one burly arm and leans forward with a hash of grunts from effort. He reaches out towards the rearview mirror, lowering it to face the middle seat that you’re both braced on. He sinks back quickly, and it almost gives you whiplash before you make eye contact with yourself. You can see everything. Tremors travel up your legs and into your arms. Your body is getting freezer burn from how cold and hot you are at the same time. Pleasured tears threaten to spill over your waterline. Joel’s smug fucking face as he murmurs endlessly at you. 
Your mouth is parted as you take yourself in, truly a pathetic, pretty little picture as you pant. “C’mon,” Joel coaxes, squeezing your ass. “You can do it. Make daddy proud. I’ll even give you a boost.” Joel reaches to your tied hands and quickly undoes the scarf, letting it drop to the floor. You flex your fingers and then reach out for the chairs ahead to get a good grip.
You prop yourself up on your knees, anchoring yourself to the two chairs in front of you. Using a combination of your upper and lower body strength, you rise halfway off of Joel’s cock before your body gives out. His balls slap wetly against your clit. He laughs, still not touching you at all. Your head flops forward as you look down to where the two of you meet, and then at the mirror where his cock is buried deep inside of you. You whine in dismay.
He wasn’t lying when he said he was going to get you sore. You can only moan. It’s pleasure like you’ve never had it before – too much, not enough, painful, so good. “Please, Joel – I can’t… can’t handle it.”
“I’ll decide what you can handle,” he says.
“You’re– you’re so fucking mean,” you rasp.
“Gets you this soaked, baby. Don’t see your pussy complainin’. You love bein’ treated like a piece ‘a meat. Like a little fleshlight for men to fuck.”
You clench, tight. “Ah!” Joel fucking sniggers behind you, but a rush of confidence spills through you at the underlying moan in his throat.
Determined to get what you want, you tighten your grip on the front seats. Haul yourself up, almost so that the tip slips right out, and then collapse back onto Joel’s cock. And, shit, it’s a lot. You doubt you could handle his cock in missionary, but being made to ride him in such a compromising position, sprawled out across his shitty backseat? That’s an entirely different animal, one that you hadn’t expected to have to handle.
You focus on doing just enough to please him and just enough to keep yourself intact. You repeat your movements two or three times, rising and falling. Little moans and whimpers, some pained, some good when he nudges your g-spot just right, slip in and out of you.
“Mmmm, yeah, that’s it. Daddy’s ‘lil wannabe pocket pussy. Doin’ a ‘lil better baby. Keep doin’ that. Jus’ keep doin’ that.”
You’re shaking like a leaf on his cock as you somehow manage to lift yourself another time before fucking back on him. “Daaaddy.” Your lips quiver as you form the word. A single tear runs down your face from overexertion, and he’s quick to wipe it up with his thumb as if it was never there. You look truly whorish and pathetic, just like he’d wanted, bouncing on his cock with the last of the energy you have left in you.
His tip jabs against that goddamn spot again, and you double over on the center console. You take heaving breaths, making eye contact with yourself in the mirror, desperate to please as you attempt to keep humping him with the change in angle. You’re letting out strings of disoriented words, but barely can tell that you’re talking.
“I fuck you dumb already? Slutty little girl. Told ya you were in for it. Ain’t ever had much of a knack for listenin’. Gonna dick you down now, sweet girl.” He drags your legs into the crook of his elbows, holding you upright for him as he shifts to his knees between your legs. Braced on the center console with your pussy settled on his cock, the new angle makes you cry out. You hold yourself up on your elbows, giving shallow rolls of your hips in return as Joel gets settled inside of you.
The first thrust makes your eyes roll back so far that you see black. “Feel good?”
“So… so fu–fucking goo… good daddy,” you whimper into the console, gripping the sides of it just so you have something to hold onto.
“Swallowin’ daddy’s dick whole in this greedy cunt. Goddamn, drippin’ down my fuckin’ balls. Such a masochistic slut, all after a poundin’ from an old man. All up in a tizzy for this cock.”
You moan your agreement, completely submissive to Joel’s wills. You move like a ragdoll for him, letting him yank you back on his cock while he meets you there, thrust for thrust. He pulls out, a small mercy, but when he sheathes himself back inside of you in full, it’s the beginning of a punishing pace.
You don’t even notice yourself drooling all over the console until Joel says something about it. “Droolin’ from two places. Yeah, baby, you needed this. Daddy’s pretty cockslut.” You whine especially loudly when Joel drags you back across the console, damn near fast enough to give your stomach rugburn. 
Hands framing your spread legs, Joel hooks them both around his torso, using the leverage to plow into you. You’re boneless beneath him, mouth frozen in silent moans. His hips meet your ass with each shove of his cock in your sloppy cunt, the obscene sound of slap after slap pealing out within the truck. “Damn lucky we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Joel growls on another thrust. “Someone woulda been knockin’ on the window long time ago with how loud you’re bein’.”
“Mmph,” you gasp when Joel tosses one of your legs up and over the passenger seat. You hold yourself there as he digs his fingers into your other thigh, shifting his spare hand to your mound.
“Daddy please please please plea–” you start panting like a broken record, desperate to feel his hand on your clit, which throbs with inattention on the console. You grind frantically on the edge just in case he denies you again. 
Joel laughs above you, fully smudging two fingers across your clit in a blur of indescribable pleasure. “Ain’t gonna make ya beg this time. Can’t wait to feel ya creamin’ ‘round me… maybe I’ll make ya lick that up too. Nasty bitch.”
“Joooel, oh fuck, please…” you whine as he continues railing you, this time fiercely tweaking your clit in-time with his movements.
The new position has his thrusts meeting your cervix, and you scream, pleasure corkscrewing through your body. There’s nowhere for all of it to go with how viciously it burns in your stomach – all you can do is take it and whine for him. “Takin’ it real good. See what happens when ya behave? You get this fat cock splittin’ your whore cunt in two, jus’ like you were askin’ for.”
He grips your hip tight, clearly expecting an answer. You slur, “Mhm, daddy!”
Joel rubs faster circles around your clit, spouting filth while he drills your pussy. You can tell he’s chasing his own release, too, hips frantically fucking in and out of you, his cock twitching every single time you clench. You’re burning up as he jackhammers your pussy. Your second orgasm of the night brims low in your stomach, “Come on, baby, know you’re close. Feel this slutty pussy squeezin’ me. You gonna ask permission like a good girl this time, or are ya gonna go back to your defiant little slut self?”
“No, daddy,” you whimper, suspended in thin air over orgasmic bliss. He’s rubbing your clit erratically, doing everything he can to hold you in place. “P-please daddy, can I come?” You practically scream it out.
“Go ahead,” he says. “Come for daddy’s, come allll over daddy’s cock.”
The band snaps. Your back arches, and you feel time stop in the second before you fall slack on the console, spasming from the best orgasm of your fucking life. Your clit feels like there’s fucking pop rocks on it, something that not even your vibrator has ever achieved. “Thank you daddy!” you cry out, repeating it as you lose all feeling in your bones. You hardly have any control over your body anymore – it’s just Joel Joel Joel Joel. Sated and weary, you just lay there, letting Joel fuck into you.
And fuck into you he does – roughly, helping you ride out your orgasm as he pursues his. “That’s my girl,” he says, and you swear that alone could make you cum all over again. “Lettin’ your daddy use this juicy, well-fucked cunt to get his own.” He can’t hold back his moans, that’s how you know he’s close, grunting and gasping as he rocks his hips into yours. His hand lands on your ass in a sharp smack, and your pussy clenches in exactly the way that he expected. He lets out a particularly ragged noise, folding himself over you to nip at your neck and rest his forehead against your shoulder blade. “Daddy’s close, where do ya want me, baby?”
“Tits,” you whine. It’s a miracle you can even get that one word out, but somehow, you manage a few more. “Come on my tits, daddy.”
“Fuck!” Joel shouts, yanking himself over you. You help him roll yourself over and sit up on your elbows, and he jerks himself once, twice, before spraying his load all over your tits with the loudest groan yet. His brows fold together as he cums, eyes drooping and his mouth parted as he takes deep breaths.
You sit there for a handful of heavy minutes, listening to each other’s jagged breathing and the sawtoothed wind outside. You’re both so fucked. Literally, and figuratively. Stuck in the buttfuck middle of nowhere, you with your dad’s proclaimed bestie’s cum drying on your tits, and said bestie staring at you with post-coital puppy dog eyes and your cum all over his balls.
You’re the first to speak up, still winded. “That was… that was good.”
Joel nods mindlessly, tongue swiping out to lick his lips. He beckons you closer, and on trembling legs, you bring yourself to the backseat. You return to your previous position, huddled up and curled next to the door. Joel fumbles around under the back bench for a little until he comes up with a small, sunbleached pack of princess-themed pocket tissues that have to be as old as Sarah is. He dabs at your chest before stuffing them into the closest empty cupholder, and then brings you closer to his chest.
You don’t notice yourself falling asleep when all you can feel is Joel.
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There’s better ways to wake up than a furious rapping on the window, but that isn’t the first thing you notice. You blink your eyes open groggily, only to face an egg yolk sun cracking wide open over the treeline and snowmelt bleeding out from every given surface. Joel’s behind you, nose in your neck, snoring softly with his arms wrapped around your middle. You take a moment to admire him – his sun kissed skin and his peaceful expression. It takes you a moment to remember you slept with him. You slept with Joel, and it was the best fuck of your life.
You’re stretching, on the verge of a yawn, when you see the familiar head of black hair over the window. “Shit!” you shout. Joel jerks to life behind you, mumbling something that sounds a lot like ‘what?’. 
You scramble to pull the coat over the both of you from where it fell off of you in the middle of the night, covering your naked bodies. “Get dressed!” you hiss to Joel, searching for wherever the fuck your panties ended up last night.
“What the hell’s gotten into ya–” he starts, and you feel the exact moment that he realizes Tommy Miller is outside of the truck. “Motherfucker,” he curses, swaying towards the front seat to snag his clothes. You see him almost put his head through his T-shirt armhole three times before he gets it right. His sweatpants are next, which he tugs up his bare legs without even searching for his boxers.
“Joel?” Tommy shouts outside. “Wake up, sleepin’ beauty!” He knocks on the door again, the windows blurry from melting snow. You have that to thank, at least. It buys you enough time to tug your polo over your head, but not enough time to button it all the way up.
“Fuckin’... dumbass,” Joel huffs as he clips the lock on the door and kicks it open, looking at least somewhat composed. You take deep breaths, looking between the two of them. “How’d you find us?”
Tommy looks Joel up and down, scrutinizing him. “What happened to southern gentleman manners? I came out here to save ya from Mt. Everest, brother! Least you could say is ‘thank you’.”
“Thank you,” you fill in for Joel, even if the last thing you’re feeling is grateful.
“Her daddy threw a hissy fit, y’know? Told him you were fine and we’d go lookin’ for ya in the mornin’. We saw all that backup on the highway, I went this way, he went that way, turns out my gut was right. ‘Course my dumbass brother would take this route… hey, you’re truck’s a fuckin’ mess.” Tommy sinks his hand into the closest cupholder, pulling out a wad of tissues that have been soaked in his cum. You hiss as if you’ve been scalded with boiling hot water.
Joel starts, “Tommy–”
“What the fuck is this shit?” The realization seems to dawn on poor Tommy when he’s peeling apart the tissues, and he drops them like they’re a thousand pounds. You can’t even bring yourself to scold him for littering as the wind carries them away. “Joel. You dirty dog!” He says, eyes flitting between the two of you like it’s the most impossible thing in the world.
Your heart picks up to a speed that can rival most NASCAR drivers and your face burns like hot asphalt. You look pointedly down at the ground.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Joel seethes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Get outta here, you little shit.”
Tommy’s hands go up. “Hey now, I ain’t doin’ anything. That is not a conversation I wanna have with her daddy.” He clears his throat, effectively clearing the air along with it. “So, uh, truck break down?” Joel grunts in affirmation.
“Been tellin’ ya you need to make a stop at the auto shop… C’mon, I’ll get y'all home,” Tommy says, jingling the keys to his own truck. “Call a tow on the way.”
Joel drags his feet all the way to Tommy’s passenger side. You get your wallet and jacket together, winding the latter around your waist. The sun almost blinds you on your way out, and Tommy stops you.
“I hope you didn’t let ‘im stick it to ya with them prehistoric condoms. You’re smarter ‘n that.”
“God, no,” you huff out.
“I dunno what’s stupider, lettin’ my asshole brother hit it raw or gettin’ a UTI–”
“Okay!” you announce, hands going up as you round the back of Tommy’s truck. “Conversation over.” You’re still smiling playfully at Tommy as you clamber into the back of the truck, sighing when the air conditioner hits.
Just like that, back to the same old same old sunny, shithole state of Texas. Joel looks at you in the rearview mirror and winks at you. You guess not everything has to stay the same these days.
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lanadelnegan · 1 year
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My Girl
S7!Negan x Reader
Requested from anon: hey! loving the blog and every story you post! i was wondering if you’d do a story of a reader’s first time being with S7 Negan who is an asshole at first but then goes soft because he accidentally made her cry??
OOOH I'm gonna have some FUN with this one. And thank you so much <3.
Summary: Rick's oldest daughter, y/n, loses her virginity to Negan.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, virgin first time, vaginal sex, daddy-kink, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 40), Rick walks in on Negan eating you out.. (twice), degrading language, mushy romantic Negan, Negan fucks you in nothing but his leather jacket
A/N: This is my favorite fic I have written by far and I hope you love it as much as I do cuz I am obsessed.
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"Carl, take your sisters upstairs and don't come down until I say it's safe." I lift Judith out of her high chair and follow Carl up the stairs.
Our dad has always treated us like Carl's the older one, even though he's two years younger than me, but I don't mind. If anything, it takes some of the pressure off of being big sis all the time.
I hear Negan's voice booming in the distance as my dad opens the door to head back outside. This has become part of our weekly routine at this point. Negan and his men went from monthly visits to weekly visits over the past couple months, but I don't mind that either.
The more I get to see him, the merrier.
I move the bedroom curtains slightly, peeking through my window until my eyes find Negan standing in the street in front of our house. I'm able to make out what they're saying if I listen closely enough.
"Rickyyy, I missed ya. Where's that sweet daughter of yours hiding? .....The older one of course." I can't stop the grin that appears on my face when he asks about me.
"This isn't about her. Get what you need, and leave." My dad stands firmly planted with his hands on his hips and my eyes roll at his attitude. Maybe if my dad would just be civil with Negan all of this could stop. I revert my gaze back to Negan.
"Now, Prick, you know I can't leave without seeing my girl."
His girl... The butterflies in my stomach flutter at the sound of that.
"Why are you so obsessed with him?" Carl asks rudely from across the room while holding Judith and bouncing her so she doesn't cry.
I quickly glare at Carl before turning my gaze back towards the window. When I look back down, Negan is looking up at me, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. I can't look away, and he lets his gaze linger a little too long as well, prompting my dad to look at my window. I quickly drop the curtain and back away.
"Take Judith to her room and put her down for her nap." I instruct Carl. He stares at me suspiciously. "Go! What did I just say?" I snap impatiently. He shakes his head but ultimately leaves.
"You're always so weird when he comes around." He says under his breath. I close my door behind them and go back to the window, peeking again, but this time everyone's gone. I rush to go see what's going on, but as soon as I swing my door open and run out, I crash into a tall, solid figure. My eyes widen as I look up at the man in the leather jacket.
"Hey, doll. Miss me?"
"Uh - I - where's my dad?" I stutter nervously, peaking around him.
"Busy getting supplies for me. He'll be busy for the next hour, so I thought I'd come keep you company."
Negan's been visiting Alexandria for months now, and each time he comes, our talks get longer and flirtier. Well, he flirts with me and I pretend to be annoyed, mostly so others don't think I like him. If they only knew how much I think about his beard between my legs.
There's something about him that intrigues me.. fascinates me even. I'm ashamed to admit I've even touched myself a couple times - okay, a lot of times - to the thought of him.
When I don't respond, he backs us into my bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
He slides his shoes and jacket off, sitting on my bed and leaning back with his feet propped up. I blush at the sight of him in my bed and restrain myself from ripping my clothes off here and now. A chill runs through my body, making me noticeably shake but I try to play it off. He probably things I'm scared, when in reality I just want him.
"Relax, I'd never hurt you darlin'. Unless you want me to." He winks as he leans back against the headboard getting more comfortable.
"I know." And I do... for some reason, I know he wouldn't hurt me.
He bites his bottom lip playfully and raises his eyebrows while patting the bed next to him.
I nervously walk over and sit down before leaning back, mimicking his position. My bed is a twin, so it doesn't allow much room to ourselves. My shoulder is pressed against his and the simple act has my body on fire already. I glance over and let my eyes roam up his white t-shirt to his handsome face. He watches me with amusement while his leg presses against mine teasingly.
"Sweetheart, I've been around the block long enough to know when a girl wants my dick. And I can practically hear that pussy fucking purring every time I come near you." He grins at me like he knows all my secrets.
My face burns with embarrassment at his words.
"I bet I could make you blush even harder than that, doll." His grin stretches wider but I stay silent, letting him do the talking.
"Of course.. I wouldn't do anything you're not comfortable wi-"
Before he can finish, I press my lips to his hard and climb on top of him. His mouth parts, letting my tongue in and his subtle moan makes my pussy flutter. He tastes like whiskey and smells like leather and I feel high off the taste of him as we kiss passionately. I grind my hips desperately into him and feel his bulge grow underneath me.
"Negan... I need you."
"I know baby." He breathes out.
My hands fumble with his belt and pants until I get them undone. He watches me as I pull out his cock and my pussy is already sore from just looking at it. No way it's gonna fit.
"How do you want it, baby? You gonna be a big girl and ride daddy?" His hands squeeze my ass underneath my dress and he practically growls when he realizes I'm not wearing panties.
"It's like you knew I was coming. Such a bad little girl." His fingers tease my opening and I'm embarrassed that I'm already pathetically soaked for him.
"All for me?" He slides a finger through my slit and brings it up to his mouth for a taste. "So fucking sweet."
I slide myself against his cock that's now slippery with my wetness and wonder how I'm gonna fit that thing inside me.
The big dick energy definitely checks out.
I hover above him naively, thinking I can actually take him. The tip just barely pushes through my opening and I moan at the sudden pressure. His hands grip my ass, guiding me down over him.
"Come on baby, that's it." He praises me as I keep sliding down. I stop when I can't take anymore, realizing I have at least four more inches to go.
"Oh, I know my little slut can take more than that."
I shake my head. "Negan, I don't think I -"
"You can, and you will, doll. I didn't come all the way here for you to only take half of my dick."
Tears fill my eyes as I try to sit all the way on him, wanting to make him proud. I make it another inch before the pain is too much. Not only with how deep he is, but he's so wide I think he may actually be ripping me apart.
"Deeper, y/n." He demands.
When I try again and fail, I quickly climb off of him frustrated. "I can't Negan, I'm trying!" He sits up in the bed, his feet on the floor now.
"Bend over."
"W-what?"
"Do not make me ask again." His jaw clenches as he stares at me seriously.
I lay myself over him, my ass facing upwards on his lap.
"You're going to take all of me, baby. If my wives at home can take me, I expect nothing less from you."
He doesn't even give me a warning before bringing his hand down painfully on my ass making me yelp. He chuckles darkly before smacking me again. He rubs the sensitive spot before teasing both of my holes.. One with his thumb and the other with his middle finger.
"What would daddy say if he could see you right now? Bent over my fucking lap and dripping for me like a little whore..." He pushes his thumb and finger deep inside each of my openings and I bite my lip hard at the pain.
I know he's trying to be all dominant right now.. I'm not oblivious to how rough sex works, but my eyes still sting with tears at his crude words. I shouldn't have built my hopes up that Negan could actually care and be gentle with me.
I sniffle as the tears fall, trying to wipe the snot dripping from my nose.
He quickly pulls me up and his eyes are filled with concern.
"Baby? Hey, look at me." He cups my face gently as I sit on the bed next to him.
"I - I liked you." I choke out. "I was the only one here who actually cared about you and saw you as a person.. and you.. you just see me as a stupid object you can shove your dick in.... You just ruined my first experience with a man. I hope you're happy." I sob while looks like someone just punched him in the gut.
"Fuck, sweetheart." He presses his forehead to mine, looking down with regret. "I didn't know you were all mushy about me and shit.. Truth is?" He tilts my chin to look at him. "I was being so harsh with you cause I didn't want to admit my own feelings. I didn't think you'd ever want an asshole like me, so I didn't want to go catching feelings for someone who didn't want me back. But baby? I can't get you outta my fucking head... Why do you think I started visiting every week?"
My teary eyes look up at him and he looks genuine. I want to trust him so badly, but my heart and head are saying two different things.
"Fuck, y/n. I know you don't believe me. Let me prove it to you. What can I do? Just say the fucking word."
"Stop taking our stuff... Leave our people alone..."
He chuckles lightly, shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to agree to. "Does that include you?"
I try to hide my grin as I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. "....No."
"Then it's a deal, baby."
"That's it? Just like that?" I look at him confused.
He shrugs. "Guess you've got me wrapped around your finger already, darlin...And now that I know you've never been with a man, I'm taking my fucking time with you." He lays me down on the bed while kissing and climbing over me.
"What about my dad? He'll be back soon."
"Simon's keeping watch, doll."
His lips travel to my neck. "....What about your other wives? You're just gonna fuck me and go back to them?"
He laughs against my neck. "Sweetheart.. I kicked every one of them to the curb the day I layed eyes on you."
My mouth drops open but he cuts me off by pulling my dress down over my chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. I moan and arch myself into him. After a few moments of sucking each one, he slides down further, lifting my dress to my waist and settling his head between my legs. I watch him in awe as he takes his time, kissing my inner thighs.
"Has anyone ever eaten you, baby?"
I shake my head no as I lean up on my elbows to watch him.
"Good." He spreads my pussy lips apart with his fingers and I blush at him staring at it. "Such a pretty pussy. Fuck." He says before locking eyes with me and pressing a kiss to my clit gently. I moan from the contact and arch myself into him, silently begging for more.
He dips his tongue in me and curls it up, gathering my juices. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he groans and licks all the way up to my clit before sucking on it softly. My mouth drops open and my hips try to jerk away, being overwhelmed by sensitivity.
He smiles against me. "Not going anywhere until you cum all over my face, doll." He wraps his arms up around my thighs, pressing my stomach down with his hands.
My breathing matches the speed of his licking and sucking and I feel the pressure building up inside me.
"Fuck, Negan!" My eyes are clenched shut but snap open when my door suddenly flies open.
"Shit! Dad!" I reach to throw my blanket over me, but defeatedly realize it's on the floor. My eyes widen in horror at my father standing in the doorway, looking like he just saw a ghost. A ghost that's eating his daughter's pussy. I'm unable to close my legs because Negan is still holding me down with his hands.
"God fucking dammit, Rick. We were just ge-"
"Negan!" I cut him off, my cheeks turning bright red with embarrassment.
He kisses my pussy one more time and my eyes widen, not believing he just did that in front of my father. He finally leans up, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and smirking at my dad like he's proud of himself.
I quickly get up and fix my dress.
"Dad, look, I -" I look up, stopping at the sight of Carl pointing a gun directly at Negan's head.
Negan tucks himself back into his jeans, buckling his belt and ignoring Carl.
"Carl.." I slowly step in front of Negan. "Put the gun down."
"You - you wanted this? Him?" My dad asks horrified. "He's done horrible things, y/n."
"And you haven't?!" I yell at my dad. "I watched you rip a man's neck open with your goddamn teeth. If he's a monster.. then so are you."
Negan steps beside me and laces his fingers through mine before kissing the side of my head.
"I love him, dad." I look up at Negan and elbow him roughly when I see a teasing smirk on his face.
"And you think he loves you? You can't be that stupid." My dad says, putting emphasis on the last word.
Negan chuckles and finally cuts in. "First of all, Dick, do not call my woman stupid. Secondly.." His faces grows serious. "We won't be taking anymore of your things. No more visits. Other than me paying this one a visit of course." Negan winks and puts his his arm around me protectively. "That is.. until she moves in with me." Our eyes all widen at the same time.
"You want me to live with you?" I turn to Negan.
"I mean, you did just confess your love for me, doll. Soo, yeah, that's the plan." He kisses my forehead.
"Y/n, we'll talk about this later. Negan, you need to leave. Now." My dad demands, his jaw ticking with anger.
Negan glares at my dad for a moment before turning to me, lifting my chin to kiss him slowly and passionately. Before he lets go, he whispers in my ear. "Meet me right outside the walls when it gets dark. I am nowhere near done with you, baby."
My heart flutters at the thought of us sneaking out together.
Negan walks towards the door before leaning close to my dad's ear. "I get to be her first, Rick. How fucking sweet is that." I struggle to make out his words but don't miss the chuckle at the end. He pats Carl's shoulder on his way out. "See ya 'round, bro."
"Love you, sweetheart!" He calls out to me as my dad and brother follow behind him, making sure he leaves.
I shut my door and smile giddily, running to the window and peeking out. Negan is already looking up at the window when I look at him. He smirks and winks at me before heading off to the gates.
A few hours later:
The sun just went down and my palms are starting to sweat as I pace back and forth on the outskirts of the gates. A million thoughts race through my head.
What if he doesn't come..
What if it's a trap..
What if he lied about everything he said..
Oh my god.. He's gonna kidnap and torture me..
Shut up. He wouldn't do that.
This is a bad idea. What am I doing.
Just as I turn to run back inside the walls, I see him appear from the shadows, wearing his signature leather jacket with a black t-shirt underneath.
"Were you about to ditch me, y/n?" He asks playfully as he pulls my wrist towards him and crashes his lips into mine. When the kiss deepens, he bends a little, pulling me up by the back of my thighs and wrapping my legs around his waist. We make out like horny teenagers while my fingers run through his slick black hair.
"You ready to officially be mine, doll?"
I nod without hesitation. "Yes. I'm already yours, Negan. I don't care what anyone thinks about us."
He kisses me again, setting me back down on the ground. "Lead the way, baby." He nods towards the side gates.
"You want to go back to my house? What if someone sees you?!"
"Kinda hope they do.. I like the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to." He smirks and it makes me knees weak.
"Okay.. come on." I pull his hand as I guide him back to my house. We sneak through the back sliding doors as carefully as possible before tiptoeing up the stairs.
He lightly smacks my ass as we're going up and I turn to shush him, tripping over my own feet in the process. He catches me before I make a loud thud on the stairs and his body is leaned over mine as we try not to laugh.
My body shakes as I laugh silently and bring my hand over my mouth quickly to stop any sound that comes out. His eyebrows raise at me with warning as if I better not make a noise.
"Okay, okay. Shushhh." I whisper before beginning our climb up the stairs again. My dad's room is at the end of the hall and mine is adjacent next to his. We try not to let the floors creak as we get closer to my room. We slip inside and I ease the door shut gently. When it finally clicks shut. I let go of a deep breath and look up at Negan. As soon as our eyes lock, we laugh like idiots, but quiet idiots.
He walks towards me. "Goddamn it, I fucking love you." He says as he lifts me back into his arms kissing me.
"You know.. earlier outside.." I breathe out between our kisses. "I thought.. that maybe you were gonna kidnap and torture me."
He smiles against my mouth as our lips lazily fight each other. "...What if I am?"
I stop kissing him to look at him. When I do, his look turns serious and it scares me for a moment. "I fully plan on making you mine and torturing you with this dick forever, doll."
I grin and roll my eyes as he continues holding me in his arms. "I guess there are worse ways to get tortured."
"Wait until I'm all the way inside you." His eyebrows raise teasingly.
I press my forehead to his and bring my hands to cup his face, kissing him again. I can't take my lips off of him. "Well what are you waiting for?"
That's all he needs to hear before he's walking me towards the bed and laying me down gently. He stands back up, removing his jacket and shirt.
I watch him closely, admiring the flex of his biceps when he moves. "Put the jacket back on. No shirt."
He laughs until he sees that I'm serious.
"Yes ma'am." He says with his little country accent. It's not always noticeable, but when it is.. it's so fucking adorable.
Once he's back in the jacket and bare chested, he stops for a moment before removing his pants. "Can I take these off, at least?"
"No, I want to."
He grin stretches as he walks towards the bed, keeping his hands by his sides. "All yours, baby."
I sit up in the bed in front of him and undo his button and zipper. I shuffle his pants down just a little before pulling his hardening cock out of his boxers. It turns to a steel rod in my hand and I don't care that I'm full on staring at it, assessing each vein and how it turns an ombre shade of pink towards the tip.
"I hope you like what you see, baby. Cause it's the only dick you're gonna be seeing for the rest of your life."
"I'm perfectly happy with that." I look up at him before kissing the tip of him, just like he did to my clit earlier. He watches me proudly, letting his fingers run through my hair lovingly.
I lick my lips before struggling to fit my mouth around him. He chuckles down at me.
“If you can’t fit me in that cunt, what makes you think you can take it down your throat, baby?”
I grin around him and I slide my mouth deeper and deeper. Surprisingly I don’t gag and I think it surprises him too.
Guess I don’t have a gag reflex. That’s good to know.
“Holyyy shit, doll. Look. At. You.” His voice is so deep it vibrates to my pussy. The tip hits the very back on my throat and even further until my eyes water.
I try to jerk my head back, but Negan pushes my head down on him again, my nose pressed into his pubic hair. He waits a few seconds until I feel like I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen before pulling my head back. I gasp for air and he pulls me all the way off of him while kicking his pants and boxers off.
"Trying to make me blow my load before we even get to the good part, darlin'? He climbs over me in the bed, kissing me softly.
My hands slip underneath his jacket and rub his back, scratching at it gently.
"I am gonna make you feel So fucking good." He says before kissing my neck. "You want me to be gentle with you baby?" His voice right in my ear makes me shiver.
I nod and he hovers his face above mine so we’re staring into each other eyes.
“You ready, baby?” He whispers and I nod again.
He leans up on his knees between me and lines himself up with my entrance before pushing the tip through. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”
He slowly slides in me further and further as he holds my legs open.
“Goddamn this pussy is so fucking Tight.” He pulls back a little before pushing in deeper and my mouth gapes open slightly.
He chuckles and stares down at me through heavy eyelids. "I'm not even halfway yet, sweetheart. You want more?"
I nod desperately as my eyes fill with tears at the overwhelming sensation of him so deep inside me.
"Take it then, doll. Grind on me and make yourself feel good." He stops moving completely while still on his knees between my legs.
My cheeks blush at his request and he smirks down at me, sliding his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, refusing to move or touch me.
I lean up on my elbows while he's still inside me and push my body further into him, taking every inch I possibly can. I grind myself against him until I find just the right spot for the tip of his cock to press into and drop my head back at how good it feels, not caring about the desperate sounds I let out.
"Oh my god, Negan.. fuck." My face reddens at the intense pleasure as I continue using his cock to pleasure myself.
"Fuck, baby. Now THIS? Is a Fucking sight.. Watching you get off on my cock like a desperate little whore."
"Touch me, Negan. Please."
"Please what?"
"Please Negan."
He removes his hands from his jacket to lean over me, holding himself above me with one hand on the bed while bringing the other to lightly grip my throat.
His dark hazel eyes dart back and forth between mine as he squeezes his fingers gently around my neck. My face reddens even more at the sudden loss of air.
"Try again, doll."
"Please... daddy." I choke out and he quickly releases my throat.
"Good girl." He kisses my lips softly before thrusting his hips hard, completely filling me until his balls are flush against me.
I scream out and his hand immediately covers my mouth while his head dips to the side of mine and his deep voice fills my ear once again.
"Sshhh, baby. I know. I know." He pulls out almost completely before sliding in again, this time softer but just as deep.
My eyes fill with tears at the pain but I don't want him to stop. My fingers grip the bottom of his jacket as he continues fucking me hard and at a steady pace. The headboard begins to lightly bump the wall above me and my eyes widen with panic.
"Negan, the bed. My dad's room is right on the other side."
He chuckles lightly in my ear but doesn't speak. Instead, he pounds into me even harder and faster with his head is buried into my neck.
"Negan!" I whisper yell at him but it feels too good to make him stop. The closer my orgasm gets, the less I care about my dad hearing us.
After a few more thrusts, he slows down and suddenly flips us over with his dick still inside me until I'm laying over him.
"Negan, my dad's gonna come in here! We have to be quie-"
Before I finish, he lifts his knees up and rams his cock into me hard. It feels even deeper from this angle and hits a spot that makes me see stars.
"Come here, baby." He maneuvers me until my arms are wrapped around him and my head is nestled into his neck. He smells like musky cologne and sweat and I can't help but lick him. Our mouths are next to each others ears, breathing and moaning heavily as he begins to thrust up into me faster than ever. The headboard slams into the wall with force but I don't even care.
This feeling is unlike anything I've ever felt or knew was possible, so the last thing I'm gonna do is tell him to stop.
"Negan.." I cry out. "Faster."
He obeys and wraps his arms around me tighter, fucking me at an animalistic pace. I cum so hard and fast I don't even have time to announce it. My pussy clenches and I feel myself suddenly leak around him, soaking his dick and probably even the bed below us.
"Goddamn. That's my good fucking girl... You gonna let daddy cum in this pussy, baby?"
"Yes! Please." I whine.
He growls in my ear and holds himself deep and still inside me as his dick pulses over and over.
I try to slide off of him when he's finished, but he holds me tight, not letting me leave.
"Negan, you need to leave before my dad-"
"He's not here, sweetheart."
"What?!" I snap my eyes to his.
"Relax, baby. He's fine. But I did warn him that if he didn't want to hear his baby girl screaming "daddy" all night.. then he should take your siblings and go stay the night with Daryl." He grins up at me and my brows come together with confusion.
"Wait you.. you told him about our plan?"
"Of course baby. Had to be respectful and ask for your old man's blessing."
"And.. and he gave it to you?!"
Negan laughs and reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Absolutely not. But respectfully, I told him he didn't have a choice."
The next morning:
My vagina is screaming at me for allowing it to be destroyed last night. I can't count on one hand how many times Negan made me cum. I open my eyes to the sun shining through my window and immediately notice Negan is gone. I shoot up and look around, seeing that his clothes are also gone.
What if he just.. got what he wanted and left..
I throw the covers off of me and get up, grabbing my sundress of the floor and throwing it on before making my way through the house.
"Carl?!.... Dad?!" I yell as I descend quickly down the stairs. I stop at the bottom to find Negan stirring a pot of something on the stove.
"There she is! Mornin' sunshine." I walk over to Negan to see what he's cooking and he holds a spoon up to my mouth, letting me taste the deliciousness. This man can fuck and cook... what a god.
"Was wonderin when you were gonna wake the hell up. It's already lunch time, baby." He presses his lips to mine and I notice his freshly shaven face. I've never seen him like his and he looks so incredibly handsome.
He lifts me up and sets me on the kitchen counter while standing between my legs.
"Mmm, promise me you'll wear little sundresses with no panties underneath for the rest of our lives, doll." He says as he kisses me sweetly. I giggle and wrap my arms around him, kissing his neck.
"You hungry baby?" He asks and I nod sleepily.
"Me too." He slowly gets down on his knees in front of me, draping my legs over his shoulders.
He softly licks me with his tongue, moaning from the taste before burying his face further into me until I feel his tongue push past my hole. His shaven face feels soft and much more gentle than his beard.
My fingers run through his black hair, tugging on it gently as my head falls back.
"Mmm, daddy." I moan and my eyes snap open, hearing movement at the front door. I quickly jerk Negan up while pulling my dress down and sliding off the counter, seeing my dad, Carl, and Daryl standing in the doorway. Carl quickly covers Judith's eyes while he holds her and Negan sighs annoyedly at the sight of them.
"God..DAMN it, Rick. Again? You gotta learn to fucking knock."
"It's my house." My dad's expression is unreadable as he stands there, eyeing Negan. "You said one night. You can be on your way now."
"Well now don't be fucking rude, Prick. Have a seat." He grins widely at my dad before gesturing to the table. "I made spaghetti."
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The End.
3K notes · View notes
alexaloraetheris · 2 months
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Oh boy, I feel like it's time for a post nobody will like.
We all know clothes are getting worse. Recently I found some jeans I bought in high school, and since I lost weight recently I tried them on and they fit, so I'll be wearing them once we get out of the Hell season.
But I took them and compared them to the most recent pair of jeans I bought, and... Honestly the difference in quality is so fucking stark it made me want to give up on life. The jeans I wore in high school have gone through everything. I'm talking half of Europe here, because one of our teachers was pretty big on school trips everywhere she could get the money for. They've been washed, tumbled, survived an actual car crash and they're still good.
The most recent pair I machine-washed ONCE, everything else was hand-wash only. I babied them to the max because they made my ass look like was on Instagram. Do you know what they look like now?
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They're full of fixes like these. They lasted less than a year on their own. I got another decent year out of them SOLELY because I kept fixing them. And fixing them again. The crotch alone I had to fix SEVEN TIMES. I COUNTED.
And these weren't cheap jeans! C&A jeans tend to be around 40$ these days, and I got these for about 30 with a discount. I expected them to last me AT LEAST a few years, because those high school jeans? THEY'RE THE SAME FUCKING BRAND.
Considering this was the quality I was getting for nearly 40$ I figured I might as well get the same quality for 15$ and downloaded SHEIN. I didn't get jeans from them but I got some light, fluttery summer pants in the style that, honestly, I fucking love. I got three pairs for the price of one C&A jeans, and I am aware I will have to baby them even more, because out of the five pairs of pants in total I have bought on SHEIN only ONE is made of the fabric that I might be brave enough to machine wash. And with SHEIN continually getting sued for using sweatshops I probably won't be getting those pants again.
So what to do with that shitfuck situation?
I am insanely lucky my grandma knew how to sew really well and didn't mind me looking over her shoulder as long as I was quiet. I am aware that's not a skill everyone has, but quite frankly? When nobody has any money and even paying big bucks for clothes does not guarantee any kind of quality, and even fucking THRIFT STORES are full of just junk now, I think it's time to face the facts.
You need to learn how to sew.
I'm not talking about sewing your own clothes, though if you can and you have the time and patience, it's probably the best option (good luck finding decent fabric, because we can't even find THAT anymore unless you're ordering from fucking Belgium). I'm talking about fixing up seams and sewing on a patch, little repairs that make your clothes last. It might be junk, but with sewing you can make it last twice as long for the price of a spool of thread.
Now that I've pissed off everyone who is, for some reason, morally opposed to learning how to sew because it's a 'girly hobby' or 'supporting the patriarchy' (a take that left me baffled like nothing else) I'm going to piss off everyone who already knows how to sew.
I recommend getting this little guy.
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It's called a stapler sewing machine, for obvious reasons. If I recall correctly, it was invented to fix clothes on the go for fashion shows and/or cosplay. It does only a chain stitch and needs to be pushed manually, but if you need to, like, hem your trousers and you don't want to spend half an hour on doing it manually (and don't already have an actual sewing machine) this is a lifesaver.
Here's a tutorial how it operates:
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Now, why am I recommending this? Because it will only set you back six bucks. I got two right off the bat because I was banking on one not working (and I was right) and so I could use it for spare parts. The one in the video (Spring Come) is the one I have as well, and it's the one that actually works. I can't vouch for any unmarked ones, but the blue one works. It IS a little temperamental, but with a bit of practice it makes things so much easier.
The reason I'm not recommending an electric machine of any kind, even the one that costs 18$, is because, if you're a beginner, then an automatic sewing machine becomes a machine that exponentially speeds up the rate at which you make mistakes, and if it breaks down, good luck fixing it unless you have a dad/uncle/friend who knows his electronics. This thing can be fixed with a screwdriver, and takes the same needles as an ordinary sewing machine.
You can buy a bundle of needles just about anywhere for any price and they'll be decent as long as they're steel, but I would recommend looking for some actual better quality thread. Everywhere else, you can pinch pennies, but the thread itself is what's holding your clothes together, so this should be the part where you're looking for quality instead of price.
Alright, those of you who didn't scroll past with a derisive scoff at my take, I hope I've been helpful.
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lacroixwh0r3 · 1 year
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Blow My Load
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DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: For the last two year, you and Joel have been secretly hooking up behind your fathers back. One night when your dad goes out on a date, you and Joel spend the night together and Joel gets carried away.
Warnings: SMUT!! DUB CON, petnames (pretty tame ones), doggystyle, oral sex (f recieving), PiV, creampie, crying, pregnancy mention, abortion mentioned at the end, overstimulation, Joel is a little bit of an asshole in this (I am so sorry), age gap (Joel is 40 and reader is around 25), (aged up) Sarah mentioned, no outbreak
Song inspo (Feel free to listen if you want): Blow my load by Tyler, The Creator
A/N: Enjoy! Please reblog, share, like, and comment if you want. <333
"Oh, baby," Joel moans as he breaks the kiss between you two. You look down at his lips, which are now bright red and slightly plumped. His tongue quickly licks off the mix of both of your spits from his bottom lip. His hands were still holding your head in place as he looked at you. "I wanna cum in that tight little pussy so bad, darlin."
Normally, the two of you would have to be quiet, but because your dad had decided last minute to go on a date, it was just you and Joel in the house. Or you might even go over to Joel's house, which was five minutes away, if Sarah wasn't home, but tonight the young girl was at the house with three of her friends having a sleepover doing, lord knows, what. Joel was adamant about staying over to watch the four girls, but you quickly reminded him that they're 18 years old and could easily take care of themselves. You were also going to be home alone, and you wanted him all to yourself.
As soon as your dad pulled out of the driveway, you and Joel ran to your bedroom and stripped out of your clothing.
You couldn't help but let out a whimper. "Joel, you know you can't do that." You tell him as you bring your hands up to grip his wrist. You weren't on birth control, and Joel wasn't a big fan of condoms. When the two of you did have sex together, Joel would usually pull out at the very last second, which would lead to you giving him a lecture as you both came down from the intense orgasm you both had.
Sure, it was hot when Joel did it, but you would rather not have to tell your dad that you were pregnant with his best friend's baby, and you didn't want Joel to tell Sarah that he had gotten the girl she looked up to the most pregnant.
"I know, darlin', I know, but imagine how fuckin' good it must feel." Joel whispered to you as he groans out. He brings his head close to yours again. You could feel his lips ghosting over yours.
"I'm fucking you until you can't think straight, begging me to dump my warm load deep into your pussy." Joel says before he sticks his tongue out again, only this time his tongue strokes against my top lip. You felt a strong pull in your stomach as your pussy clenched around nothing, causing you to push your hips into Joel's. "Maybe even put a baby in there." He says it lightly. It was almost as if he was saying it to himself, but somehow you still heard it but didn't comment on it.
You couldn't help but think about earlier, when Joel had lifted your dress up and ate you out on your family's couch in the living room while your dad ran to the store to restock on beer and some food for dinner. The way he sat down on the floor as he wrapped his large hands around your ankles to keep your legs from closing or falling off the couch Or the way he slurped, licked, and sucked on your clit to the point you almost wanted to scream at the top of your lungs.
You parted your lips to allow Joel's tongue to invade your mouth. Joel cocks his head to the side a bit and sucks on your tongue before letting it go and French kissing you. You can feel it as the drool slides down your chin, getting onto his beard. You feel Joel's hands release your face and move down your neck, stopping at your breast. He fondles them and thumbs your nipples. They were painfully hard now.
You wanted nothing more than for Joel to fuck you senselessly until you couldn't think of anything but him. Joel always turned you on when he talked to you like this, but you were ovulating right now, and his words weren't helping.
You pull away from the kiss. "Fuck me, Joel," You mutter against his lips. "I want you to fuck me hard, daddy."
"Yeah, you want me to fuck you nice and hard? Get on the bed so Daddy can fuck you," He says sternly. "I want you face down, ass up, darlin'." You immediately get to the edge of the bed, just as Joel told you to, with your feet hanging off.
You can feel Joel close behind you in between your legs as he reaches over your naked body and grabs the pillow near your head. "Get on your hands for me real quick," He tells you. Again, you do what he says, and he stuffs the pillow underneath your stomach. "Good girl, now lay back down on your chest." He tells you once more. You lay back down and realized that your hips were now elevated, allowing Joel to easily access your pussy.
"Oh, look at you, so fuckin' sexy with your ass in the air, just ready for me to fuck you," He teases you. "You want me to fuck that pretty pussy, doll?" Joel asked. You felt your pussy clenching around nothing. Begging for your hole to be fucked
"Mmmhm." You whimper at Joel as you nuzzle your face into the soft sheets beneath you. However, your response did not satisfy him because he spanked your ass with his large hand. Your head pops off the bed, causing you to look back at him over your shoulder.
"Say it." Joel demanded it from you. "Tell me how much you want me to fuck you."
"I've wanted you since you got here, baby. I've been so fucking wet for that big cock." You whimpered as you wiggled your ass in the air, causing him to strike your ass again.
"Oh, I know you want my cock, honey. You want me to fuck my cum into you? Hmm?" He spanked you multiple times. You let out soft whines as you shook my head.
"Hmm? What's that, baby? You want me to cum in you?" He not-so-jokingly asked:
"I mean it, Joel. You can't cum inside of me or I'm gonna kill you, old man." You give him a pointed look over your shoulder, causing him to raise his hand in defense with his eyebrows raised. You meant it jokingly, but also not jokingly.
"I promise I won't, baby." He tells you.
"Mmhm, now I want you to fuck me, Joel." You demand him. His left hand grips your waist as the other wraps around his cock as he strokes it, getting ready to slide it into you. You feel him rub his cock against your clit as he gathers the arousal that seeps out of your hole. You moan out his name as he hisses.
Joel then points the head of his cock at your pussy and slowly slides inside. Letting out a deep groan as he does so. "Oh f-fuck, baby," He shudders. Your toes had curled up in pleasure as you dropped your head onto the sheets. "Pussy so fucking tight and warm... I might just have to cum in this pussy and make you a momma, huh?" He questions you as he slowly begins to push in and out of you. Joel felt the flutter after he said that.
"Oh, you liked that, baby?" Joel teases you. His slow strokes began to form a hard, fast pounding. "Tell me."
"I am going to fu-Oh fuck me-I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, Joel!" You moan out to him as he continues his furious strokes. His balls slapped against your clit as he pushed your waist into the pillow beneath you. "Y-you have to fucking pull out," You plead with Joel. You knew that he wasn't listening as he continued to pound his cock in and out of you.
"You promised me!" You squeal out. Joel only grunted in reply and spanked your ass with full force as his left hand gripped your hips.
Somehow, Joel's thrust had only gotten faster. You could hear your headboard hitting against your wall and the sound of my ass slapping against Joel's hips. It was all too much. Your knees began to burn from the friction, your hips began to grow sore as he tightened his grip on them, and with each hit to your ass, there was a sharp sting that lingered. That's when you knew that both you and Joel were close to orgasming.
"Oh, J-Joel, baby, please!" Suddenly, it hit you. You were cumming so hard that you didn't know what to do with yourself. The combined feeling of Joel's heavy balls slapping against your clit and his cock rubbing the spot deep within you was overpowering, causing tears to form.
You grabbed the pillow that sat near your head and brought it close to your face. You bite down on the pillow as your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out loud moans into it.
"Oh my fucking god, baby..." Joel strains out his sexy, deep voice. He spanks you again as you cum around his cock and rub your ass cheek to soothe the pain. "Come on, sweet girl, tell me who's making you feel good." His strokes had begun to slow down now.
You release the pillow from between your teeth. You were so far gone from your ongoing orgasm that you couldn't even form words. Goosebumps had formed around your whole body as you shaked and quivered.
You feel him bring his hand up and smack your ass hard again, causing your body to jerk in response. "Tell me, girl! Who's makin' you cum this hard?" Joel grits his teeth as he slowly thrusts into you.
"It's you, Daddy!" You moan out to him as you reach your arm around you to grab onto his fingers on your waist. Joel moans and slowly picks up the pace of his thrust. You could feel his balls tighten against your clit, letting you know that he was nearly cumming. You look over your shoulder at him.
"That's fuckin' right, daddy is fucking you." He fucks himself into you. "O-Oh fuck, I'm gonna fuckin' cum soon, my sweet girl." Joel continues to hold onto your hand while his other hand lazily spanks your ass some more. You watch as his head falls back and his eyes close. You feel yourself close to another orgasm as well, but you can't help but worry that Joel isn't going to pull out on time.
"J-Joel," You moan to him as you grip the sheets on the bed. "You have to pull out; I'm ovulating, and you're gonna get me pregnant if you don't." You tried to tell him so that he could pull out. However, this only seemed to turn him on more. His cock strained in you all while he continued to stroke against the spot inside of you. You released his hand, slipped it between the pillow, and onto your clit. You rubbed your clit fast as he fucked you.
Joel looked like he had been transported to heaven. He looked down at you with both hands on your hips, gripping them hard. It hurt, but you didn't care.
"Oh, baby, I love you so fuckin' much," he whimpered as he looked into your eyes. "I'm so sorry," He says, looking down at his cock going in and out of your pussy. The sight of your juices covering his cock made his body go stiff. That's when you knew he wasn't going to pull out.
"I can't stop; I need to fuckin' cum in this tight pussy right now."
"Joel! No, pull out now." You told him as you tried to move your body away from his, but his grip was too tight around you. "You promised me, Joel!" You moaned loudly.
You weren't sure how many times you had orgasmed today, but you knew that you were cumming again. Joel moans as he feels you tighten around him. His cock begins to spurt his warm cum into your womb. You were so overstimulated that your eyes leaked tears and your ears rang loudly as your cunt welcomed Joel's cum and fluttered around his cock. Over the ringing in your ears, you can hear Joel whimpering out soft appologies as he continued to cum.
With his cock still inside you as you leaked out cum from your pussy, he laid his warm body on top of your back. His chest was damp with sweat from pounding into you. You could feel his warm breath by your ear as he took a minute to gather himself together. He still felt your walls fluttering around him. "It's okay, babydoll. I got you," He whispered gently as he stroked your bare side. You couldn't speak or think; all you could do was shiver underneath his body, even though you were far from cold.
Moments later, Joel pushes up from the bed and slowly pulls his cock from you with a slight hiss and groan. Joel bends down to get a look at your cum-filled pussy with his hands resting on your ass. "Oh doll, look at that pretty pussy," He whispers as he strokes his thumb against your sore ass. "I'll be back, okay, baby?" You let out a soft hum, letting him know he heard you.
When he went to the bathroom to clean you off and get something to clean you off, he didn't hear you burst into tears. When he came back, you were now sitting in the middle of the bed, crying with your head in your hands.
He rushes into the room, places the water bottle and towel on the bed, and embraces you. You couldn't help but cry harder as you cried into his neck. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry." He apologized as he kissed and rubbed your head. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I don't even know what I was thinking."
You continued to cry for a few more moments before speaking up. "Joel, what if you did get me pregnant? What are we going to tell my dad and Sarah?" You look up at him with worry. He could tell you were stressed over this and couldn't help but feel his heart pull in his chest. Joel honestly didn't know what came over him during sex.
"Doll," He grabs your hand from your lap and gives it a quick kiss. "If you do get pregnant and you decide that you want to get rid of it, I will be there along the way, but if you want to keep it, then I will be sure to take care of you and the baby no matter what." Joel says it truthfully.
You stroked his hand with your thumb. "Joel, I'm not getting rid of it, but we're gonna be so fucked when my dad finds out his best friend of four years has been boning his daughter for the last two years and got her pregnant..." You say this to him as you look down at his hand in yours. "He'll fucking probably end up kicking me out and then kicking your ass."
"Don't you worry your pretty little head 'bout that darlin'; you're always welcomed at my house." With his other hand, he holds your head and kisses the crown of your head. "As for him kicking my ass, that ain't happening, sweetheart," He says sternly, as if he is sure. You let out a snort as you laughed.
"Oh really?" You back away from him to get a look at the cocky look on his face. He just looks down at your face with admiration.
"I'm certain, darlin'," He tells you, causing you to let out a loud giggle. That beautiful giggle overwhelmed Joel with love. He knew he loved you before, and he always made sure that you knew he loved you, but he knew right there that there would be another compared to you. You were it for him.
After your giggles had died down, you noticed that he was looking at you with a sparkling look in his eyes. "What?" You asked him softly as you played with his fingers.
"You know I love you, right?" He asked you. You felt yourself beginning to get shy. The both of you always told each other how much you loved each other, but something about this was different.
"Of course I know, Joel. Do you know I love you more, though?" You lean over and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. You then pull back to take a look at his face. The way his hard eyes softened when he looked at you made you weak in the knees. "So fuckin' handsome!" Joel's cheeks turned a soft pink color.
"And you're the most beautiful thing on earth," He whispers to you. "You're mine forever; don't ever forget it, darlin'." You wish this moment could last forever.
You released his hands from yours and brought them to your stomach. "I can't believe we might be having a baby, Joel," You whispered as you stroked your stomach. You could see you and Joel sharing a child together and even getting married whenever the time is right. He puts his hand over yours as well and rubs his thumb against your hand.
"You want me to cum in you again so we know we're successful, baby?" He suggested it with a smug tone. The soft look on your face immediately dropped and was replaced with a blank one instead.
"You're such a dirty old man," You tell him. "But yes, I do." You give him a quick peck on the lips before laying back down on the bed.
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A/N: I kinda hate this, but its been on my mind and I wanted to write.
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kookslastbutton · 3 months
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just one kiss ༓ kth (m)
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✑ Summary: You and your husband always seem to want each other at the most inconvenient times. Tonight, it happens to be right when you're about to sleep before your next work shift. You find it harder and harder to say no.
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pairing: Taehyung x reader (f.)
genre/AU: PWP, fluff, smut, established relationship, married au, comfort
word count: 3.6k
warnings: softdom!taehyung, sub/minor switch!reader, swearing, kissing, asking for consent, f*inger*ng, ✨sensual✨ but also r*ough penetrative s*x (oc on the birth control), big d*ck, light neck b*ting/sucking, praise kink (both), body worshipping, pleading (tae just wants to please...), hint of possessiveness, hint of banter, m*ssionary/two ways, t*t sucking/f*ndling, impr*g kink (both), multiple org*sm, mentions of aftercare, Tae being a little whiny at first, he calls her baby/darling, mentions of vintage, rated R movie
now playing: Where I Belong by Bobby Bazini, Drops of Jupiter by Train
a/n: I have nothing to say other than I've been on a writing spree this week and this happened....heh 😅 Taehyung's Type 1 photos made me do it! Okay, bye! Hope you enjoy 🤍
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Taehyung looked more than handsome when he came home tonight, the buttons of his dress shirt undone just enough to let your eyes greedily wander his smooth, tanned chest. The sleeves were neatly rolled up to his elbows too, displaying his rather muscular biceps.
He’s been working out with the guys more frequently the last few months and yes, you’ve been silently benefiting from it.
Of course, you loved the way he looked before too —he’s sexy either way.
Despite feeling very much teased by your husband (though it wasn’t his intent), your evening consisted of dinner and a movie instead. It's an old, vintage film he's been dying for you to see for ages—an underrated classic assigned by his college professor during his final semester. When you caught sight of the VHS tape in his hands earlier, you quickly connected the dots of what the evening would look like.
But while both of you initially immersed yourselves in the black-and-white film, things gradually changed about halfway through when a number of rather steamy scenes started playing.
"It's not exactly about the sex," your husband explains as matter-of-factly as he can. "It's passion between the two main leads who've been repressed for so long. Not only by society but also from their own set of social standards. They're finally breaking free."
"Gotcha," you nod, "I suppose it's a turning point for them then." You continue watching the movie until one of the leads begins climbing over the other, stripping the other of their clothes. "God Tae, they're really showing a lot here. I wasn't expecting this much action for a movie made in the 40s."
Tongue in cheek, he studies your somewhat taken aback facial expression. "You see why it's such an underrated film for its time?"
"Mhm," you reply, your throat suddenly feeling dry. "I'm, uhm, I'm beginning to see."
Once you're certain his attention is back on the TV screen, you sneak a quick look at him. He’s completely serious, appreciating the artistic direction of the film. Meanwhile, you on the other hand are suddenly getting very distracted by past images of your husband's naked body flashing through your mind (No thanks to the film he’s chosen).
Fuck __, get it together, you scold yourself.
You're never typically this affected by a cinematic sex scene for fuck sake.
"You okay?" His deep voice jolts you in surprise.
You smile, hoping you seem composed. "Uh, yes, fine. Just...enjoying the movie."
Taehyung hesitates for a moment, appearing somewhat suspicious, then responds with a simple, "Good. I'm glad."
Once the movie ends, you both climb into your shared bed, feeling mutually exhausted. You're rolled on your side now, him behind you with a hand secured around your waist. Taehyung's embrace feels so comforting with how close he holds you.
But then, you feel a subtle poke in your lower back and it tells you everything you need to know about where his next agenda is heading; he’s hard.
You’ve been pretty worked up since your head hit your pillow yourself, however, the movie took over three hours to finish. Your body is not nearly strong enough for any messing around tonight, plus you have work in less than eight hours. You simply do not have the time or energy.
Taehyung thinks otherwise.
“Baby?” his breath tickles your skin as he presses himself against your back. Long, gentle fingers find their way under the material of your shirt easily. The touch is cool against your warm skin, causing you to shiver ever so slightly. “Baby, are you awake?” he tries again, voice laced with the richest honey.
Fuck, you curse to yourself, he’s decided to use that voice; his seducing voice. Okay fine, who are you kidding— it’s his normal voice. After all, it doesn’t take much for him to turn you on with that naturally husky voice of his.
You can’t give in though. You seriously have work at the crack of dawn, and if you let him have his way now, you’ll be at it all night. Taehyung likes to take his time with you whenever you're intimate, per usual. Or, alternatively, the two of you end up abandoning all self-control, choosing to go round after round instead.
“Mm,” you let out a sleepy groan, “Not tonight, Tae. I have work in the morning.”
Subtly, you close a hand over his to stop his movements. Somehow, during all your thinking, they managed to travel dangerously close to your boobs.
“I haven’t even told you what I want yet,” he protests, a near pout.
You stifle an amused chuckle. “I'm no stranger to what you’re doing, Tae. We’ve been together far too long for me not to know. I can also feel you in my lower back,” you note, referring to how hard he’s gotten. “Tomorrow we can do whatever we want. Wait one more night.”
Your husband buries his face into the crook of your neck, attempting to snuggle into you. “Promise?” He presses a feather-like kiss to the delicate area and you can’t resist the faint moan that it elicits. Your neck has always been highly sensitive, which your husband knows all too well.
“I promise,” you barely manage to form a reply.
“Seal it with a kiss?” He asks as innocently as he can. Though, you have to question his antics. You really wanna turn your head around and kiss him like he wants, so badly. But what’s stopping you? The fact that his lips are always so soft and you know you’ll be after more.
Fuck, now you want him.
"We kissed plenty of times earlier, didn't we?" you struggle to keep yourself composed, voice cracking.
"Not nearly enough. Please, baby, I missed you the entire day. One kiss.”
God, you sigh inwardly, he’s too fucking hard to say no to.
“We’ll go to sleep right after,” you state as sternly as possible, twisting your neck until you're eye to eye with your husband. It’s dark in your bedroom, but you can tell by how lust-blown his eyes are that he’s just drinking you up.
“You’re so beautiful,” he rasps, catching you completely off guard. You blush instantly, cheeks flaring with warmth. You hope your husband won’t notice due to the pitch blackness of the room, but he does, given the cheeky smile that spreads across his face. “Oh god, I love you so much,” he says, then presses his lips firmly to yours in a passionate kiss.
Not another word slips out from either of you for the next half minute, your mouths instead moving against each other rhythmically. You both let out breathy moans as your tongues begin fighting for dominance (your husband wins easily). You didn’t mean for it to go this far, really you didn’t. Nonetheless, here you are in a heated make- out with your husband, one hand lifted above your head to thread through his silky hair.
Taehyung grunts the rougher you pull and slides his own hand to your inner thigh, gripping it tight and prying it open. Naturally, you roll on your back which he gladly takes as his opportunity to pull you towards himself.
With your bodies facing each other on your sides, his bare chest comes flat against yours, Taehyung lifts one of your legs until it comfortably snakes around his hip.
“Tae,” you struggle to catch your breath as he begins planting kisses up and down your neck, “We can’t…I...have to work.”
He doesn’t reply, choosing to suck along the delicate part of your neck instead. Your eyes roll up in response, every nerve in your body feeling like they’ve been set on fire.
“Tae, baby-” you start again, but he hushes you.
“Darling,” he coos, “we’re kissing right now. I’ll stop if you want me to, but don't you think work can wait for a while?” He then nips at your jaw before capturing your lips again. They’re going to be bruised if he keeps this up. “Do you really want me to stop? Say the word and I will.” He’s looking at you now, patiently waiting for your answer. You think he’s quite sneaky for leading you into his honeytrap, but who are you fooling…you want this.
“You’re right, screw work.” You then pull yourself over his body, forcing him to lay on his back as you sit up and straddle him. “I love you.” You then lift your top over your head, revealing your naked chest to him. He’s seen it a million times and each time he looks at you with such widened eyes, so full of awe.
“I-“ he starts, bringing his hands up to gently caress your sides. The pads of his thumbs circle over your skin soothingly and you hum in satisfaction. “I love you too,” he finally says. “You’re so fucking amazing. My best and worst dream wrapped into one giant tempt-“
“Okay Tae, shh," it's your turn to hush him now, sweet as you can as you roll your hips forward and into his. It's just enough to draw out a throaty moan. “I think it’s clear we both love each other quite a lot hm? Because I adore you too," you add.
He nods in understanding.
“Then,” you lean forward until your centimeters from his face, ass in the air. “Fuck me.”
A growl like you haven’t heard before instantly drops for his lips. Taehyung grabs your waist with sturdy hands and flips you both over, his body hovering over yours so closely as your back hits the mattress. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he says, fingers dancing along your sides. “May I?” You know exactly what he’s asking for so you nod.
“Please do.”
His palms move up to your breasts not a second later, thumbs rolling over the hardened peaks. Your back arches into hands at the friction, eliciting soft, drawn out moans from both of you.
“Shit,” he swears, hands tightening around you as he gropes your tits, “I want to suck them,” he deadpans and you nearly choke at the bluntness. Usually, he asks permission for a second time, but he doesn’t this time…not that you mind the subtle change.
“Go ahead,” you give him the green light and it’s all he needs before bringing his lips down to close around your boob. Your jaw clenches as his tongue sensually licks around a nipple, gently biting it now and then. It’s clear that the wetness between your thighs only increases with every movement. “Please, need more. It feels so good, but it’s not enough…fuck!”
You gasp when his tongue suddenly moves from your breast and latches itself to the ridge of your neck. You want to tell him not to leave marks where you can’t cover them up, however, he’s far too convincing that you don't.
“I know baby,” he hums, disgustingly seductive, “we’ll get there but let’s be patient, hm? Your body looks so perfect right now. Wanna savor it a little longer. Is that okay? Will you let me do that?”
The gentleness of his request, paired with his ridiculously deep voice, sends literal shivers up your spine. You want him to fuck you here and now, yet you feel yourself bending to his will. But no, that won’t work tonight. You hate to say it but you really are pressed for time.
“I-Taehyung if we don’t fuck soon, it’ll be dawn and before we know it I’ll have to leave and the last time we tried-“
“Alright, easy darling,” he relaxes you from your long winded argument with a small chuckle, “I concede. I’ll fuck you.”
You feel yourself clench in anticipation as you watch him get up to remove his pants, swallowing hard when his generous length meets your eyes.
You shouldn’t stare.
It’s not polite to stare.
You’re shameless, truly, because you can’t take your eyes off of him.
“Look at me, baby,” Taehyung calls you out of your daze, to which you quickly lift up your chin to meet his piercing gaze. “Tell me what you’re thinking in that pretty head of yours.”
“I…want to suck it,” you admit, no longer able to hold yourself back.
Your husband hums at your response and climbs back towards you on the bed, stopping near your legs.
“Suck what?”
“Uhm, well,” your voice wavers and you don’t know why, other than the fact that you are getting major distracted by the way his fingers smoothly guide your knees up, prying them apart.
“Yes? I’m still listening.”
Being that you’re wearing shorts, Taehyung moves his head between your spread legs and presses a kiss to your inner thigh.
“Say it,” he encourages, “we both know the answer anyway.” You can feel him practically smirking against your leg.
“Don’t be cocky,” you counter, not yet realizing the weight of your reply until Taehyung directs his gaze on you with an amused expression.
“I think we both concluded a long time ago that that’s pretty near impossible for me, don’t you think?” He replies, earning a brief chuckle from you. Not before a small, exaggerated eye roll of course.
“Alright, you win. I want your cock,” you say, “No more of this cat and mouse game, but I'm so riled up. I need you inside me. You’ll let me suck you off tomorrow though, right?”
“If that’s what you want, darling. I’ll do anything for you.” He grazes the band of your shorts before continuing. “For now, these are going to need to go.”
You nod and he slips the thin material, along with your underwear, off your body. “Fuck,” he swears, taking in your naked form. “I’ll never get over the fact that you look like this. So beautiful, and only mine to see. Fuck. I don’t deserve you.”
With a single finger, he begins tracing up your center, easily feeling the wetness that’s gathered between your thighs. You don’t have time to feel even a shrivel of embarrassment when he begins sinking into your velvety walls, all the way down to the knuckle.
“Oh god, n-no, you deserve it. You definitely deserve it,” you stutter, back arching into his touch as he curls his finger in you. He then slips a second finger next to the first, to which you involuntarily clamp down on. “Fuck, your hands feel so good, Tae.”
Your praise evidently encourages him as he moves his fingers faster in you, curling them against your sweet spot repeatedly until you’re sure your neighbor, the one who lives across the street from you, can hear you.
“I’m gonna come!” You suddenly shout, the first orgasm of the night washing over you in the seconds following. When Taehyung slips his fingers out of you, it’s no surprise that they’re completely covered in your come. Per usual, he cleans them off himself and your core clenches at the action.
“I need to feel you,” he says shortly, bringing his body over yours until he’s directly above you, eye to eye. “Please, I’m so hard right now.”
You nod eagerly, feeling similar. “I need you too. Please...please fuck me.” The tip of his cock drags along your entrance, sliding against your slit before finally pushing in. You immediately wrap your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together.
"Shit," he swears, bottoming out in you, "So wet, you're so wet, baby."
He starts a slow, steady pace at first, fucking into you deeper with each thrust of his hips. It's not rough, but rather sensual, as he loves nothing more than sinking himself into slowly, until you're letting out moan after moan, his name the only word on your lips.
"Let me hear you, darling," he coos, dragging his length all the way out before pushing back in, "I want to hear all your pretty moans tonight. Fuck, you feel amazing, do you know that? Such a perfect pussy."
His praises make you absolutely delirious as you toss your head back, eyes fluttering shut to bask in the pleasure.
"Am I making you feel good, too?" he continues. "Let me know if I am. I wanna make you feel nothing but mine; my darling, my wife."
"Yes, fucking yes. You're making me feel amazing Tae-" Your arms wrap up around his upper back, nails digging into his shoulder blades helplessly. Taehyung winces at the slight pain but doesn't stop his movements, preferring to bury his face into the small juncture between your neck and shoulder instead.
He then returns the favor by nipping at the area with his teeth, not enough to hurt, but enough that you give a short yelp. He licks over it after, soothing it gently.
"Oh g-god," you moan breathily, "I-I think I'm gonna come again." You find yourself clenching around him right then, and it takes your husband off guard as his balance slips, his body falling into you immediately. His elbows manage to re-stabilize himself and to your demise, allows him a new angle to fuck you from—one that's deeper, faster, and causes your legs to wrap around him tighter.
"Come for me," he nearly growls, gradually picking up his pace as he thrusts himself into you rougher, "I wanna feel you come on my cock. Can you do that for me, baby? Fuck, don't hold back."
"I'm c—" You have your release before the words have the chance to fully form, your husband covered in you for the second time of the night. "Please," you start a plead. "I want you to come too. Tell me how you want me. On my hands and knees, yes?"
With a soft hand, Taehyung lovingly caresses your face and presses a tender kiss to your lips. "I want you just like this, actually," he says, not an ounce of demand in his tone, "that way, I can see your beautiful eyes when I fuck into you. But I want your legs over my shoulders....if that sounds good to you."
As if you didn't just have your release, you feel your thighs threatening to clamp together at his request. "Yes," you agree hurriedly, "Anything sounds good, I just want you. And I want you to come too.”
With that, Taehyung straightens his back, throws your legs over his sturdy shoulders, and starts fucking into you mercilessly. He's fucked you sensually, worshipped your body from head to toe, praised you, and now? He's gonna finish in you.
"Holy shit," his grunts are labored as he chases his high, desperate to finally have his release. "Too m-much...so fucking good! I'm going to breed this pussy tonight, tell me how bad you want it, baby. Tell me...please."
It's inevitable that his desire to get you pregnant slips out, as it happens nearly every time you fuck. You share the same desire too, however, contrary to what just fell from his lips, he most certainly will not be getting you pregnant tonight—you're still on the pill. One of these days you might just let both your dreams come true, but for now you'll play into the fantasy.
"I do, I want it so bad," you moan, legs shaking as his cock plunges into you, his hands gripping around your hips. "Give me your babies, Tae, I want the—"
"Shit, I'm gonna come!" he suddenly announces, his thrusts growing messier as he twitches in you. He's dangerously close to finishing, and so are you; for the third time of the night.
"Come in me, baby," you struggle to say, "You deserve it so much, fuck, come in me Tae! Don’t stop, I wanna feel you cover me.
"Fuck!" He thrusts in you one last time before the cord within him finally snaps, ropes of his come filling you up instantly. He then lazily fucks you a few final times, attempting to ride out his high before setting your feet back on your mattress.
"I can't believe," he pants, now laying on his back beside you, "we nearly skipped all of this tonight."
"Yeah well, I was tired," you reply. "But I was also extremely wound up and that movie we watched might have had something to do with it."
Taehyung turns his face to you with a playful smile. "I know," he says simply. "I could tell from how hard you were trying to concentrate on the movie that you'd rather be jumping me."
"I-What? When did I give that impression?" You meet his eyes in shock. You thought for sure you were keeping yourself pretty well under wraps.
"Darling," he draws your face towards his to peck your lips, "you can only sneak glances at me so many times before I'm bound to notice. Not to mention the amount of times you excused yourself to get a glass of water when you had one sitting in front of you, on the coffee table, the entire time."
"Oh," is all you reply with, warmth spreading on your cheeks.
"For future reference, if you want to pause the movie and hm, do other things," he exaggerates his words, lifting a corner of his mouth into a faint smirk, "you only need to ask. I'll never say no to you."
"Evidently, same here," you chuckle lightly, "I'll consider it for next time. I'm actually really tired now."
"Me too, we should clean up and get to bed. I'll get you a towel," he rolls off the bed and heads straight for your joint bathroom.
"I love you!" you call out, though you're unsure that he heard you until he pokes his head out from the doorframe.
"I love you too, stay there okay? I'll be back in a second," he flashes a grin at you, then ducks back in.
Well fuck, you think, you're never giving him up—ever.
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a/n: yeah, he's my dream 🫠 Now, I'm going to be good and go continue my series lol.
Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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moody-alcoholic · 3 months
Text
Making them feel good
Hello to my American readers cos it's 3:30 here and I'm tired.
MDNI +18 content
Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Slow burn (sorry but not sorry). 2.7k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe.
CW: MDNI + 18 content. Smut, multiple blowjobs, oral (M receiving x2), kissing & licking, cum swallowing, little bit of Mdom, tiny bit of hurt/comfort. Look they're expressing their feelings what can I say.
Previous parts - masterlist - next part
Enjoy ya filthy animals <3
You feel your body moved, there are more then two hands now. Your head is on Simon’s lap the blanket still wrapped round your body. You force yourself to keep my eyes closed not wanting to cause a bother. 
“You let me sleep too long” You hear Johnny say. 
“You needed it.” Simon replies. 
“What about you?” Johnny says sighing. 
“Don’t worry about me.” Simon says his hand falling on your shoulder. You feel Johnny move closer to Simon leaning over to kiss him, you hear their lips smacking together. 
“I always worry about you.” You hear Johnny say quietly. 
“I know.” Simon says as they pull apart. You feel like you’ve just invaded their privacy, maybe you should have moved to make them know you’re still there, or something. Simon’s hand is rubbing your shoulder as you feel Johnny move off the sofa. 
“Want anything to eat?” You hear Johnny ask from a distance he must be in the kitchen. 
“What you making?” Simon asks.
“We don’t have anything in.” Johnny says, you hear the sound of a fridge door close. “What time is it?” 
“7,” Simon says. 
“Lets order in, what do you think she’ll like?” Johnny asks you can hear him making his way back to the couch. 
“Let’s order from that Mexican place that does the super stuffed burritos.” Simon says. You hear Johnny tapping on his phone. 
“40 minutes?” He asks.,
“Yeah that’s good.” Simon says. You try to convince yourself you’ll let them know you’ve been a wake but you can’t help yourself keeping your body still and your breathing steady, you doze off again. 
The doorbell jolts you awake, for a second you think you’re in a hospital and it’s a respiratory alarm going off. When you see the darkness outside you remember where you are.
“You okay?” Simon asks his hand on the small of your back. You nod letting yourself wake up properly the smell of fresh cooked food filling your nose. 
“We got some food if you’re hungry?” Johnny asks as he puts the delivery bags on the table. Your body’s stiff as you sit up straight the blanket falls to the floor. 
“I need to pee.” You say pulling yourself to your feet. Your body still feels sleepy as you make your way to the bathroom. You lock the door making your way to the toilet. ‘You should always pee after sex to decrease the risk of UTI’s’ your nurse brain tells you, bit late for that. You look in the mirror as you wash your hands. The bags under your eyes are getting heavier, you need to get a good nights sleep. When you leave the room you see Simon and Johnny on the couch, Johnny with his arm around Simon’s shoulders munching on a wrap. You make your way back over to the living room, feeling guilty for eavesdropping on their conversation earlier. 
“There’s chicken or pork which one do you want?” Johnny asks taking food out the bag. 
“Chicken sounds good.” You say and he hands you the wrap you sit in the recliner next to the sofa pulling your knees to your chest. The news is playing, you pretend to pay attention to it as you pull the foil off the wrap taking a bite. It tastes good, salty and oily exactly what you need after today. Simon and Johnny talk about whats happening on the news, you’re half listening to it as you eat the burrito.  
“Looks like it’s all kicking off.” Johnny says. Simon replies with a grunt. All of a sudden the Burrito tastes stale in your mouth. You put it down on the coffee table. The pit of guilt is not going away. You try to rack your brain to why you’re feeling like this. All you can think about is Simon. Johnny got to fuck you, Simon didn’t get anything, Johnny said he was rough Simon didn’t seem rough. 
“Simon,” You say as you turn to look at him, Johnny is laid up against his chest. His eyes fall on you as you slip out the chair crawling on your knees toward him. “I want to make you feel good.” You say as your hands find his knees.
“Oh yeah? How you plan on doing that?” He asks playfully, his legs parting so you can run your hands down his thighs. 
“Let me suck your dick?” You ask. He chuckles and you look at Johnny who winks at you stroking Simon’s chest. Simon’s hand reaches down into his sweatpants pulling his cock out. You were right he’s bigger then Johnny, of course he is, and he’s not even fully hard yet. 
“Think you can take it?” He asks, his voice low as he strokes himself in front of you. You don’t care if you can or not now it’s a challenge. You look up at him nodding, Johnny is smiling as he nuzzles his face into Simon’s neck. Your hands reach out as you move your body between his legs making sure you’re comfortable on you knees and take his cock in your hands. You rub up and down using your thumb to push into the underside. Simon’s head tilts back as Johnny licks his neck. You take a breath in pulling his foreskin back so you can wet his tip with your tongue. 
“Fuck-” he moans his free hand resting on the top of your head. You just go for it locking your mouth round and forcing yourself to take the whole thing. You hold your breath letting him fill your mouth up all the way down to the back of your throat. You gag your mouth filling with saliva, Simon’s fingers run through your hair. Your head bobs up and down as you make sure to take every inch of him your tongue pressing into the underside of his cock as it grows bigger in your mouth. 
“Like the way she makes you feel?” You hear Johnny ask between kisses. Simon just murmurs in response, you could never imagine him letting himself go like this especially when he’s walking around with that skull mask on, the one that sends shivers up your spine when you see it. Right now he’s at your mercy, his body twitching with each stroke of your mouth, each kiss from Johnny. Simon grips your hair helping your head move up and down, he’s rough just like Johnny said making you take him all the way to the hilt as tears form in your eyes. You don’t mind though this is your time to make him feel good. You move faster pressing harder with your tongue, Johnny’s moaning sweet things into Simon's ear making your body crave touch too. You move one of your hands into your underwear rubbing your clit, you don’t care if you get off but it feels good and it makes you more eager to please. Simon’s hand moves from your hair to your face, gently tapping your cheeks. 
“Hey, look up at me love.” He says, you force your eyes open without stopping your pace. Johnny’s mouth is burred in Simon's neck, his hand under his shirt rubbing his chest. “I want you to look me in the eyes when I fill your mouth up.” 
Holy shit the tingles travelling through your body are almost electric. You keep your eyes on him letting him thrust in and out of your mouth, your fingers circling your clit as you keep in time with his thrusts. He’s moaning as he gets closer to the edge, you don’t take your eyes off him. He pushes deep into your mouth and you push your head as deep as you can as he cums, his hot seed fills you up as his cock throbs in your mouth. You wait until you feel him relax before pulling your head back swallowing his cum.
Johnny is still stroking Simon’s chest whispering in his ear just quiet enough so you can’t hear. You don’t care though you made him feel good. You feel the pit go away in your stomach as you move your body from between his legs taking your hand out your underwear. You watch as Johnny kisses Simon his hand stroking his cheek. 
“Johnny you have to let her do that to you.” Simon says as he pulls away, his hand gently touching himself. You look up at Johnny with needy eyes, the prospect of making him feel good too has got you all worked up again. Johnny seems to pause for a second looking between you and Simon. 
“I don’t mind.” You say trying not to sound greedy. Johnny smiles pulling away from Simon spreading his legs so you can move between him. He’s already hard as he pulls his cock out. You look up at Simon who’s eyes have glazed over and he moves closer to Johnny. 
“You sure you’re alright lass?” Johnny asks as you take him in your hands. You nod, your tongue licking the bead of precum off his tip. He’s not as big as Simon, not that you’re complaining you’re going to make him feel good just the same. You lock your mouth around him taking his cock all the way to the hilt. His moans are just as good as Simon, the ache between your legs intensifies as you enjoy each inch of him filling your mouth. 
“Shite, Si, she’s almost as good as you.” Johnny says. You don’t have time to processes what Johnny is saying you just move faster looking up at him as his eyes roll back in his head. Simon pulls Johnny’s chin to look at him their lips locking together. Johnny twitches in your mouth causing you to close your eyes and moan on him. He likes that and you  work faster hearing him pant trying to keep his cool composure as he gets closer to the edge. Simon's voice reverberating off Johnny as he tells him how good he’s being. It doesn’t take long before he’s coming too, you take him deep just like you did with Simon making sure you feel every spasm and throb until he’s twitching from over stimulation.
You pull away swallowing your second load of the night watching as Johnny sucks in deep breaths Simon stroking his face. You smile at them getting up picking your glass up from the coffee table and heading into the kitchen. You run the tap for a few seconds then fill the glass up drinking it down then leaving the glass in the sink. When you walk back to the living room you see Simon’s head on Johnny chest. You decide not to interrupt them heading to the bedroom and crawling into bed. You close your eyes exhausted but satisfied, you can still taste their cum in your mouth as you drift off to sleep.        
—————————— 
You wake with your arm spread on Johnny’s chest, light is coming in through the bedroom window. Simon is behind you snoring softly, you don’t even remember them coming to bed. You slowly and quietly slip out from between them leaving the door ajar and heading into the kitchen. You’re craving a coffee and after searching through the cupboards for a while you find some and boil the kettle. Your eyes keep flicking to the bedroom door hoping you’re not waking them up. You decide to take the coffee out to the balcony grabbing the throw from the couch on your way out.
The sounds of busy central London fill your ears as you breathe in the frigid air. You make your way to the chair pulling the blanket round you and watching the activity on the Thames. The sun is still low in the sky covering everything in a burnt orange hue. You relax back in the chair sipping your coffee. You think back to yesterday and how natural everything felt. Johnny and Simon being so accommodating, you’ve never felt anything like this before, you’ve never had boyfriends or one night stands treat you anything like the way Johnny and Simon seem to fawn over you. The coffee burns your tongue as you swallow it down.
There was something different with Johnny and Simon, you knew this time it was going to be different. Not just because it was a three way relationship but the fact that it felt like a relationship and not just a fling or a few month fling. Holy shit you were actually falling for them, falling for them both. There was no Johnny without Simon and there was no Simon without Johnny. You smile as you sip the coffee watching the sun rise over the London skyline. 
“You okay?” Johnny makes you jump as he sticks his head out the door, your free hand flies to your chest. 
“Jesus, sneak up like that on everyone?” You ask as he walks out the door. 
“You think I’m quiet you should hear Simon.” He says smiling. “Or I guess you don’t hear him.”
 You smile at him get up drinking the rest of your cup as you walk towards him. He moves aside to let you in as you drop the throw on the couch heading to the kitchen. Johnny follows you the whole time as soon as you’ve put the cup in the sink his arms are around you. You turn to look at him as he pulls you closer to him. His lips moving to yours, you sink into his embrace as he kisses you moving his tongue round your mouth. 
“Yesterday was amazing.” He says as he pulls away your arms locking round his neck.
“Oh yeah?” You say in a desperate attempt at praise. Johnny just smiles at you his lips moving back to yours, it’s slow and sensual the type of kiss that makes your knees shake, your body warms up as he presses you against the sink. 
“Johnny,” You say breaking away from the kiss. “Johnny, I think I’m falling in love with you, you and Simon.” You wait for the laugh, or maybe he’ll be angry that you say you love his husband. You hold your breath waiting for the inevitable let down of being the third wheel. Instead his hand cups your cheek pulling your face up to his. 
“You know how long we’ve been waiting for that.” He says, you look confused but he pulls you in for another kiss. 
“This isn’t a fling, it’s not about the sex, its about a relationship.” Johnny says as he strokes your cheek his forehead on yours. You feel a wave of emotions come over you, suddenly you feel like you’ve said the wrong thing. Johnny seems to pick up on your change in body language his hands finds your waist and he moves you back to the bedroom.
“I don’t want to wake Simon.” You whisper as he pushes you through the door. 
“Just trust me.” He whispers as he guides you to the bed you get in with your back to Simon, Johnny laying next to you. He reaches over you grabbing Simon’s hand pulling it over you and onto him. 
“See this, feel him behind you, this is real and this is want we want, it’s not a fling.” You nod listening to his words. You feel Simon stir behind you as his hand grips Johnny’s side. Simon nestles his head in your neck kissing you. Your body is frozen hoping he’ll go back to sleep and get some rest.  
“Relax baby,” you hear Simon say sleepily, your eyes are still locked on Johnny as he strokes you cheek. You let your body relax. 
“We love you too.” Johnny says quietly kissing your forehead. 
It’s not just a fling, it’s a relationship. 
Next part
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neopuppy · 10 months
Note
I don't know if your hard hours are still open but the pic you posted for it is def giving like emo hot skater boy massive c!ck energy and idk maybe like a kinda cocky reader who doesn't believe skater boy jeno is hung and he has to show the reader (who might be acting like a brat) what they're missing 🫣 could be interesting I don’t know
warnings. unprotected public penetration, dubcon, Jaemin’s here for a show—and to film
————————————————
“He thinks he’s so cool.”
“That’s ‘cause he is.” Your friend drawls on dreamily, chin perched between her knees where you sit together along the skate bowl. “He’s in a band, he has tattoos, and he has a huge cock.”
With a loud sarcastic scoff you roll your eyes dramatically, piping up to talk down to her. “Oh yeah? Because you’ve seen it firsthand?!”
“No,” she says annoyed. “Not yet, but everyone knows Jeno’s packing! He talks about it all the time!”
“Exactly.” You bark, poking at her arm. “He talks about it all of the time, but that’s it. He’s nothing but talk, and if a guy really had all that going on, he wouldn’t need to brag like that loser does.”
“That’s not true, he has like— a reputation!” She fusses, sitting up to hang her legs along the inside of the pool. “Girls always gossip about how he leaves them feeling stretched for days. You’re just a hater.”
“He’s full of shit.” You continue to accuse, glaring at Jeno across the way flexing his arms and showing off his now completed sleeve with a cocky grin that’s growing larger by the second. “He’s so annoying, tiny dick bitch.”
“What’d you just say?!?”
Shit. Jaemin.
“Huh?” Playing dumb, you shoo him off, swiping your phone open to quickly change the topic.
Jaemin snatches the device from your grip, holding it over the bowl with threat to drop it to the concrete from a high point. “Hey! What the hell!” You shoot up, jumping to smack his arm and reach for your phone. “You asshole!”
“Who is a tiny dick bitch?” He grins, playfully pushing you away with a palm against your chest. “Hey Jeno!” He whistles, breaking apart the conversation his best friends’ been entertaining for the last 40 minutes.
“What?! Can’t you see that I’m busy!”
“You need to hear this!” Jaemin calls out, motioning for him to come close. Jeno grunts loudly, holding up a finger toward the swarm of girls drooling around him.
“One sec.” He trudges over annoyed, finally glancing at you, fast enough to miss before he shoots a glare at Jaemin. “What the fuck? I was about to leave and fuck—“
“With your tiny dick?” Jaemin laughs, winking at you. “Can you believe this brat’s going around telling everyone you got a little baby cock?”
“What?!?” Jeno’s face instantly hardens, flushing red up to his ears with anger before averting his attention to you. “What the fuck are you on about?!”
Jaemin clears his throat, pocketing your phone to grab his and pull open a video he just finished recording behind your back, proving everything you’d just said.
“Oh, I’m all talk?!” Jeno stalk’s forward, forcing your legs to move back and flicker your gaze away quickly for a fast escape. “Tiny dick bitch?!”
“Yeah! Shriveled up little pinky dick!” You shriek, breaking off into a run with Jeno and Jaemin fast to chase after you.
“Shitshitshit!” The only advantage you have is lack of weight on your back, having left your bag back at the skatepark hoping that your friend will have the decency to pick it up for you.
A bus pulls up just in time to jump on through the open back doors, hunched over too short of breath to notice Jeno and Jaemin pushing through the crowd from the front to find you hidden in the back corner. “God damnit.”
Jaemin’s tongue clicks, drawing your phone out between two fingers. “You don’t want this back?” He pouts, blinking tauntingly as Jeno rounds behind your back and presses up too close, leaving you with no choice but to be stuck sandwiched between them. “Damn you don’t even have a passcode on this.”
His eyes turn bright, unlocking your phone, working fast to open your photos and scroll through. “What the fuck.” He snorts, turning the screen toward Jeno. “Look at this shit, a whole album dedicated to you.”
“Jaemin, no!” You squeak, bubbling with embarrassment as Jeno reaches past you, slinking his other arm around your waist to keep you in place before he scrolls through the hundreds of screenshots from his socials.
“Aw, you’re really just mad you haven’t gotten to take my cock, huh?” Jeno leans in to whisper, chuckling against your ear. “You know it’s big.”
“You’re full of shit.” You snap, glaring from the corner of your eye at his flawless profile and sharp gaze scanning your face full of intrigue.
“Wanna find out for yourself?” The palm laid flat on your stomach strays to snatch your wrist and pull your arm behind your back, jerked forward as you resist only to collide with Jaemin’s broad chest. He smirks, wiggling eyebrows at you and opening up your phone’s camera, panning to your shocked face as Jeno places your hand against his heavy groin. “Your fucking hand can’t even cover my cock and you wanna call me small?”
“I said tiny.” You croak, doing your best to keep your fingers elongated and not squeeze around the bulge squished against your palm.
Jaemin laughs under his breath, directing the phone lower to film his fingers toying with the end of your skirt. “Come on Jeno.” He stands up straight, parting his legs open to barricade the space in front of you. “Slip it in real quick and let her find out just how tiny you are.”
Air gets caught in your throat, listening to Jeno hum in thought against your ear, drawing a long breath between his teeth. “That’s not a bad idea.” The sound of his zipper lowers, shoving your hand inside to rest along his thick girth, no boxers, nothing to separate your palm from hot smooth flesh lifted in different areas by what you can assume can only be large pulsing veins.
Large veins just like the ones lining Jeno’s sleek physique, rippling through his biceps even under the different shades and gradations of inked art running up and down his arm. He reaches forward to grip your chin and turn your face to the side, dark gaze locked on yours. “A lot of zoomed in shots in that album.”
He means the collection of his bulge and what you swore was a hard-on scattered within the album of his selfies and outfit shots, even the douchey shirtless gym mirror photos(because other than the lump between his thighs, those are your favorites).
“Think you can take it?” He slides over your hand, wrapping his long digits around to encase your palm around the base of his length, ripping a shocked(and elated) gasp from your lips. “Bet you can’t, you’d probably scream and cry to take it out before I even get 5 inches in.”
“Yeah.” Jaemin pipes in, holding your phone by your hips to get a shot of your hand lost inside his best friend's pants. “Talked a lot of shit back there, look at this mess.” He whistles again, tsk tsk tsking as he pushes your skirt up to film the shiny streaks trickling down your inner thighs. “If you’re this wet already, that only means one thing.”
“Cock slut.” Jeno bites, teeth clicking together as he gathers the back of your skirt up and fists your panties to one side harshly, popping the seams under his roughness.
“I can take your little cock.” You finally manage to speak, having to coat your throat with multiple gulps to make sure you don’t sound as pathetic as you feel. “Probably won’t even feel that shit.”
Jaemin’s mouth parts open shocked, panning to Jeno’s intense gaze, the veins along his throat quivering. “Just for that, I’ll make sure you take every inch.”
The bulbous tip of his length probes at your entrance, sliding past your slick wet hole between your folds to really make you feel just how wide he is. The fear and excitement of finally feeling Jeno’s cock firsthand and not vicariously through eavesdropping has your toes curling inside of your shoes, reaching to wrap your hands around his forearm tucked under your ribcage, digging your nails into the different colorful tattoos.
He presses in closer, forehead rolling against yours as he leads the tip back to your entrance and pokes in, rubbing the slit against your tense muscle. “Fuck, how am I supposed to fit inside this tight pussy?”
Jaemin swallows, turning the camera to selfie mode, holding it between your thighs to watch the close up view of his best friend's massive size forcing way past your tight hole. “Don’t think she can.” He says mostly to himself, enjoying the voyeuristic sensation more than he’d expected, cock twitching the longer he watches Jeno tease at your entrance.
“Put it in.” You mumble, near the brink of tears. “Put your stupid useless little cock inside of me already.”
Jeno’s entire expression turns furious, gripping the middle of his girth firmly to force the head of his length in despite the snapping resistance he’s met with. “Fuck.”
Kissing the backs of his teeth, he pauses to feel your muscle suck around him, pulsating rapidly as tears silently pass down your cheeks and your lips tighten shut to keep in a broken mewl. “Now, imagine that..” he struggles to say calmly, panting heavily against your ear. “But 9 more inches, buried all the way in. Nice and deep.”
Jaemin groans in agreement, tapping under your navel. “Right here.”
Jeno kneads under one of your breasts to quell the need to thrust further in, twitching as he counts each tear drop flowing down past your chin. “Imagine it.” He says, pulling the tip out with an obscene pop that garners the attention of a few bystanders who turn to look for less than a second.
He pats your exposed buttcheek, snapping your underwear back into place. “Because you’re never going to get it now sweetheart.”
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nereidprinc3ss · 10 months
Text
behave
in which fem!reader REALLY wants spencer's attention while he's working
18+ (no smut but sex is talked about) warnings: mentions of sex, spencer grabs readers wrist to stop her from doing something but its not violent, reader is referred to as a girl, no use of y/n, um i think that's it WC: 870 a/n: i have damn near 40 pages of spencer WIP so im biting the bullet and posting some of it. also.. if you want a plot... babe this is not the place for you im sorry... ive never even heard of a plot actually. i dont know about rising and falling action... i dont believe in that. it sounds fake
It feels like Spencer has been at his desk for hours. 
And for hours you've been lounging on the couch, reading your book in silence so as to let him work. But you're becoming... antsy. Impatient. Every time you drop your book and stare at him, willing your white-hot gaze to draw his attention; nothing. He just keeps shuffling papers, signing, writing, reading reading reading. 
At ten, you give up.  
You make a show of slamming your book shut, sighing, slowly sitting up, stretching, standing, stretching again--when you turn your head, expecting your little performance to have at least earned a look from him; still, nothing. 
"Spence?" you ask, innocuously, as you round the couch and draw toward him carefully, slowly, on light feet. A display of faux innocence. It’s not that you intend to bother him, per se--you're just so bored. 
He hums in response, eyes still glued to his work as he searches for something among the mess of paper. 
You come to a stop in front of the mahogany desk, tracing the edge of it idly with wandering fingertips. 
"What are you looking at?" you ask, in reference to a photo he seems to now be studying intently.  
"Nothing you need to see," is his muttered response, quickly flipping the photo face down on the desk and picking up a form walled in migraine-inducing tiny black text. You watch the way he scans the paper, brow knitted, and eyes squinted, clearly not paying you very much attention. 
You move languidly around the desk, letting the wood drag against your hip the whole way, before reaching for the overturned photo--just to see what he'll do. 
Spencer catches your wrist, his grip gentle and warm but not without portent. "What did I just say, grabby?" 
Sadly, they're the most words you've gotten out of him since this afternoon. 
You sigh dramatically and drape yourself across his lap, looping your arms around his neck. To your initial satisfaction he shifts slightly to accommodate you--and then continues to look over your shoulder like he hardly notices the pretty girl on top of him. 
"When will you be done?" you purr, tracing his jaw with a finger.
"I'll be done when I'm done." 
God, he can be stubborn. 
"Can you be done any sooner than that?" 
"What do you think I'm going to say to that," comes his flat reply, still not sparing you a glance. You watch enviously as his eyes dart down the paper he's reading over your shoulder.  
"Then I'm staying right here until you're finished." 
"You can stay here if you can behave." 
You scoff, bunching the fabric on the back of his shirt in your fists. "What do you mean, if I can behave?" 
Finally, you hear Spencer set down his pen, and he leans back in his chair to regard you. His gaze finally on you is like an ice bath. You literally have to repress the urge to shiver under his evaluation; the slightly raised eyebrows, the line of his mouth a little harder than usual. His 'you know exactly what I'm talking about so don't play dumb' look. 
For a few tense seconds, you let your eyes dart between his, not wanting to break first. Unfortunately, you think that look of his could freeze saltwater.  
"Fine," you mutter, flushing when you look down at his shirt collar instead. If you're being reasonable, he probably is doing something important. You drag your gaze back up to his and see that his eyes have softened. 
"Thank you," he says, gentler, squeezing your leg before running his hand over it back and forth a few times. "I know I'm not being very fun today. When I'm done we can do whatever you want to do." 
The urge to say, 'whatever I want to do?' is strong, but you manage to bite your tongue as he reaches back over you to continue his work. Instead, you content yourself to lean against him, allowing his solidity and warmth to envelop you for some immeasurable stretch of time.  
Rain starts up, battering the windowpane and accented by deep rolls of thunder. The scratch of Spencer's pen on paper, the rustle of files, and the scent of patchouli and amber begins to lull you into a doze--a comfortable place between awake and asleep. It's the kind of comatose unconsciousness that bends and liquifies time, and you don’t even realize you fell asleep until you’re waking up. 
Spencer murmurs your name, brushing your hair carefully out of your face. "Did you fall asleep, angel?" His voice is soft, just above a whisper.  
"Mhm," you groan, rubbing your eyes. "How long has it been?" 
"A few hours," he sighs. "That file took a lot longer than it should have, I'm sorry." 
You're still bleary as you speak next; 
"The thing was sex." 
"What?" he laughs, rubbing your leg as you adjust yourself in his lap. 
"You said we could do whatever I wanted to do when you were done, and it was sex. But now I'm tired." 
"Let's get you to bed," he begins, "and revisit the sex idea in the morning. Does that work for you?" 
You smile against his shirt, eyes already fluttering closed again. 
"Mhm..." 
1K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 1 year
Note
if requests are open, can I pls request baby vettel telling her brothers (the grid kids) she has a "boyfriend" when she comes home from kindergarten one day ??? if requests are closed, please ignore 💗 love your works so much !!
Grid Kids: Cooties
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: the grid kids take being big brothers very seriously
Series Masterlist
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“No.”
Max’s voice is firm, his face aghast.
Charles, sitting next to him, nods in agreement. “I thought we agreed that you’re not allowed to date until you’re 40?”
Your daughter looks up from her crayon artwork, her little brows furrowing. “But Tommy said we’re boy ... boyfr …”
Lance interrupts, “Boyfriend and girlfriend? No, no, no. Absolutely not.”
George chimes in, holding up a toy car, “Tell whoever this Tommy is that you’re too busy racing to have a boyfriend.”
Lando adds, “Besides, boyfriends mean cooties. Do you want cooties?”
She tilts her head, pondering the dire consequences of these so-called cooties.
Charles, trying to be the voice of reason, kneels down to her level. “Sweetie, you’re a smart, wonderful little girl. And Tommy is, well ... you can do better.”
Mick, watching the entire exchange, laughs. “Guys, she’s just a kid. They’re probably just sharing crayons.”
Lando looks scandalized, “Crayons today, hearts tomorrow. It’s a slippery slope!”
Sebastian, watching the overprotective madness unfold, turns to you with a smirk, “I think our daughter has a solid set of bodyguards.”
You laugh, wrapping an arm around him. “Good luck to any actual future boyfriends.”
Your daughter simply shrugs, scribbles something on a piece of paper, and hands it to Charles. “For Tommy.”
Charles reads aloud, “We can be friends. But no cooties. Okay?”
***
The next day after school, Max bends down to your daughter’s eye level, “Now, which one is Tommy?”
She points a tiny finger to a little boy playing with a toy car on the playground. He has sandy hair and an innocent expression as he makes car noises.
Lando claps his hands together, “Alright, mates, game faces.”
George rolls his eyes but can’t help his grin, “Really? We’re really doing this?”
Lance nudges him, “We have to ensure he’s good enough for our sister!”
As the grid kids approach Tommy, he looks up, wide-eyed at the small army of grown-ups marching towards him.
Charles squats down, “Hey there, buddy. You Tommy?”
Tommy nods slowly, clutching his toy car.
George, leaning down too, tries to sound stern, “We heard you’re, uh, dating our sister.”
Lando, animatedly acting out air quotes around the word dating, adds, “We just wanted to have a quick chat.”
Mick, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious, jumps in, “You know, about intentions and all.”
Tommy blinks, “Inten-what?”
Max clears his throat, “Look, Tommy, we just want to make sure you’re treating our sister right. No stealing her toys or snacks.”
Lando jumps in again, “And absolutely no cooties. We had a long talk about that.”
Tommy nods fervently, “I don’t have cooties!”
Charles chuckles, “Good to know. So, you’ll play nice with her?”
Tommy nods again, “I promise. I just wanted to show her my new car.” He holds up the toy proudly.
George pats him on the head awkwardly, “Alright, Tommy. Just remember, we’re watching you.”
***
“Operation Sneaky Sneak is a go. Over,” Lando whispers dramatically into his walkie-talkie from his hiding spot behind a bush.
“Copy that,” George responds, trying to peer into Tommy’s living room window from a tree branch, “They’re ... playing with dolls? Oh, and there are some cookies. Over.”
Lance, hidden behind a garden gnome, chimes in, “I hope they're chocolate chip. Over.”
Charles, from his spot on top of a garden shed, adds, “No visual on any suspicious activities. Just some Barbies about to get the worst haircut of their life. Over.”
Mick, wedged between two trash cans, mutters, “Feels like we’re in a bad spy movie.”
Max, crouching behind a car, counters, “Feels? We ARE in a bad spy movie.”
Suddenly, the back door to Tommy’s house swings open and out step his parents, chatting and laughing. The grid kids freeze.
George, panicking, whispers into the walkie-talkie, “Abort mission! I repeat, abort!”
Lance tries to slink away, “Going dark! Going dark! We have been compromised.”
But it’s too late. Tommy’s mother spots them. “Um, gentlemen? What are you doing?”
Charles attempts to play it cool, “Oh, you know, just ... birdwatching. Beautiful sparrows around here.”
Tommy’s father suppresses a grin, “In our backyard? With walkie-talkies?”
Lando, thinking on his feet, responds, “Modern birdwatching. Very high tech. Over.”
Mick gives him a look, “Did you seriously just say over out loud?”
Max tries to salvage the situation, “We just wanted to ensure the playdate went ... smoothly.”
Tommy’s parents burst into laughter. “You guys really care about her, huh?”
Before anyone can respond, there’s a rustling from above. Thunk! “Ow!” Thwack! “Not the face!” Crash! “My hair!”
Everyone’s attention is immediately drawn to George who has dramatically fallen out of the tree, hitting almost every branch on the way down.
Rubbing his back, George groans from where he’s splayed on the ground, “Guess I should leave the climbing to the kids.”
Tommy’s mother takes pity on the fully grown children masquerading as adults in front of her, “Would any of you like to come in for juice boxes?”
The grid kids exchange sheepish glances. “Yes, please,” they reply in unison.
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cheonstapes · 11 months
Note
omg plss do a miguel x bimbo reader im in love <3
miguel o'hara stars in... 'HANDY MIGGY'
(っ╹ᆺ╹)っ
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a/n ~ I. LOVE. BIMBOS!!!! thank you for the request sweetie, love you💗 miguel would deffo love a cute little bimbo, i just know it
summary; you don't know how to change your tyres. why would you? that's what your boyfriend's for!
pairing; miguel o'hara x bimbo!reader
wc; 1.4k+
cw; SMUT!!!!, breeding kink (can you tell i have a breeding kink), semi-public sex, fuckin on the car, reader speaks a bit of spanish, daddy kink, meanish!dom miguel, sub!reader, reader is a bit stupid, princess treatment!, reader is a bad bitch, overstimulation, squirting, orgasm control, teensy bit of aftercare, THEY'RE IN LOVE YOUR HONOR, nawt proofread - i cannot drive, yet.
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surely you weren’t that dumb? were you?
standing there in the 40° heat - wedge sandals, short skirt with your thong riding high on your hips, sweat-sheened tits spilling our of your cute little crop top. a girl always has to look her best, even when she’s about to melt into a puddle from the sun. doing things that required you to use your brain wasn’t something you did often, that’s what your boyfriend’s for! 
to be fair, you were never big on cars. barely passing your drivers test, and your daddy getting you your first car shortly after - you didn’t really want to drive around everywhere yourself, the pink porsche taycan collecting dust in your garage, being a passenger princess is the lifestyle now. unfortunately for you, your boyfriend - even though he would collect all the stars in the sky for you if you asked - refuses to let you put that car to waste. so now you’re forced to resurrect the thing, cleaning it up a little bit - and…you have to change the tyre’s. 
you even forgot about the punctures, after you accidentally drove over a few spikes in the road coming out of the wrong exit - sometimes you question why you ever qualified for a license. all the tyres were severely fucked up, deflated so much they look like they melted into the floor. your daddy gave you a bunch of spares in case (he knew it would) it ever happened. they were just so heavy, though. you weren’t built for lugging around fucking tyres - but your boyfriend is!!
so you called him, in the middle of the day, knowing he’s probably busy doing his big man job or whatever - but you knew he would drop everything to come and help you, this is an emergency girl! to no one’s surprise, he got there within 15 minutes of you ending the call, speeding into your driveway as he jumps out of the car. sometimes, you forget how mouthwateringly sexy your boyfriend is. 
a tight black compression shirt, matching shorts that clung to his thick thighs - black rimmed sunglasses matching yours pushing his hair back. not to mention the little grimace on his face from stepping out in the heat. “what’s up, baby? you ok? need me to get anything for you?” aw, he was so worried. he’s gonna be so pissed when he finds out what you really need him for.
“hi papito, so glad you’re here.” let’s try to sweet talk him a little bit, maybe it won’t be so bad if you give him a little love - the one thing he can’t resist. you hold his face in your hands, pressing a glossy kiss on his puckered lips. his brows furrow slightly, big hands resting on your hips as he pulls you close him, a low moan escaping him as he pulls away. “good to see you too, angel.” he had an amused smirk on his face, lightly caressing your ass under your skirt. “now, tell me what you need help with.”
nodding, you shyly take his hand in yours and lead him to the garage. it was a mess, to say the least - tools scattered everywhere, tyres rolling around where they’re not supposed to be, something that looked like grease spilled on the floor. “the fuck were you tryna do here, babe?” you smiled sheepishly, looking down at the floor before looking back up at him with round eyes. 
“…’m tryna change my tyres.” 
he rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his hips as he stared at you - an unimpressed look on his face. “god, you’re really a-
——————————————————————————————————
- dumb, fuckin’ slut, aren’t you?” the hood of your car was covered in a mix of your shared arousal, drool dripping out of your swollen lips down your chest. “only good for taking this fat cock, hm?”
hard nipples rubbing against your windshield, body jolting violently as your boyfriend abused his cock into your cunt. he was stretching you out so deliciously, his arms under your legs to keep you stable. “m-miggy, mm- fuuuuck, ‘s too much!” he really didn’t care, not when you looked so pretty under him. secretly, he loved how much you would rely on him - seeing that look on your face when you’d ask him for help, shit if it didn’t make him so fucking hard. but, god did he love to punish you for it. 
“too much for your stupid, little brain, baby? y’re so cute, you know that?” nodding dumbly, you grind your hips back onto his, flipping up your skirt to slam your ass onto his pelvis so he can watch the cheeks ripple. miguel let out a low growl, slamming a hand down by your head so he can lean against your back, the other gripping your hip. “just wanna fuck you ‘till you’re nothin’ but a senseless breeding bitch f’r me.” his breathing was heavy against your ear, sharp teeth nicking at the sensitive skin. 
“you’d like that, wouldn’t you muñeca? quieres que te llene de mi semen. esta linda barriga toda pesada con mis bebés. wouldn’t let you raise a finger again, ‘m gonna do everything f’r you - since you’re too fuckin’ dumb to do it yourself, gorgeous.” he had such a mouth on him, didn’t he. that didn’t sound too bad, being a stay at home mum. as long as you don’t have to do anything, then you’d happily stay plugged up with his cum all the time.
his balls were heavy, smacking against your stiff clit as he worked your hips back on him. the sensations were overwhelming. every ounce of your body was feeling the pleasure, the reflection of his strained face through the windshield making you clench tightly around him. he hissed, smacking your cunt before gripping your neck and holding you against his hard chest. “stop fuckin’ clenching. if there’s anything that small brain of yours should comprehend, it’s don’t cum till i tell you to.” 
“papitooo- please, i need’ta cum - i can feel it, baby!” you, poor, poor thing. too bad he doesn’t give a fuck. he pounded into you even harder, blunt head bullying your cervix. he quickly flipped you around, pressing your back onto the car as he gripped your hips, grinding slowly into you. “hold it.”
angling his hips just right, he drove his fat cock deeper into you, coarse hairs tickling your clit. his fingers trailed up your body, ripping your shirt as he flicked your nipples, spitting on your chest to get them nice and wet. “y’re so pretty, mm, my pretty baby.” his balls tightened, cock twitching hard inside of you as his tip drooled all over your walls.
“gonna cum in your tight, fuckin’ cunt, babe - rub your clit f’r me, or is that too hard for you?” he was so cruel but so sweet. sadistically watching your shaky fingers work your aching clit as his pelvis slammed into you. “goood girl. squirt f’r me, muñeca.” he gazed deep into your eyes, big hands caressing your cheek. 
it all gushed out at once, a heavy stream jetting out of your and coating his chest as he let out a deep chuckles, plugging you up with his girth. he fucked you through it, pinching at your throbbing bud as you shook in his hold. “w-wait, miggy, ‘m too sensitive!” he grabbed your wrists, pinning them to the car. he let out a low snarl, covering you completely as he rammed deep inside. “quiet. keep that pretty mouth shut.” he didn’t realise how much that would set him off, his orgasm coming before he could even process it.
his whole body tensed up, ass clenching, fingers bruising your hips, hips jutting in and out of you - filling you to the brim with his cum. he was breathing sluggishly, pulling your hips down towards him to keep all his seed inside. “you…you did so good, baby. i love you, yeah? so much.” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your face affectionately. “i love you too, papito.”
you stayed there for a few minutes, wrapped up in each other as you found each others lips, making out smoothly on the car. you pulled a way, placing a hand on his chest - staring at the new tyres that he fixed on for you. “migs?” he nodded, kissing and biting your neck.
“how do i change the oil?”
-quieres que te llene de mi semen. esta linda barriga toda pesada con mis bebés - you want to be filled with my cum. this cute tummy all heavy with my babies.
-muñeca - doll
-papito - daddy
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-i wanna be a bimbo doll!
2K notes · View notes
pedge-page · 5 months
Text
Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Date Night
Joel Miller x F!Reader
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based on this lovely ask. I've added some zest and a lil smut that came out of nowhere cuz why not. Mommy and Daddy are horny when they're alone.
Warnings: unprotected sex, brief breeding kink, car sex, semi-public sex, descriptions of reader's body related to pregnancy
18+ONLY
- - - -
Joel’s been waiting for this night for over a year now. It really shouldn’t take this long to get a date night alone again with the wife after giving birth, but lord knows the Miller family girls were inseparable the minute Sarah let out her first cry into the big world. 
You’ve been the ever attentive Momma, and Joel couldn’t have been more ecstatic to have the perfect trifecta.
But oh my god he needs a minute alone with you again. You wanted to be with Sarah 24/7 and vice versa. And since the little bean turned 3, she’s become more clingy than ever possible. 
Not tonight. He’s made the perfect reservation, had Tommy clear his schedule to babysit for weeks now, and even picked up a gorgeous necklace and matching earrings to compliment adults-only night out. The kids (being Sarah and adult-Tommy) can have their own fun. Joel needs his wife tonight.
“And she gets 30 minutes of TV max okay? Then you have to read her—one second Joel—one of her books, she might pick it out herself, please be patient, she’s gonna keep switching it on you but that’s ok, and then—oh don’t forget her blanket is in the dryer so its extra warm—oOH and Tommy—“
“He’s got, honey,” Joel tuts. Tommy has been approved for babysitting duty before. He trusts him (as far as the neighbor can see into the house not being burned down).
You and Joel are standing in the kitchen, ready to sneak out the back door while Sarah is dancing to the little trolls on the television in her own world.
“Okay,” you whisper. Joel holds the door open as you hesitantly look back. “I”m just gonna give her a quick kiss--“
He looks his arm into yours and hoists you back. “No! She won’t let you go. She’ll be fine. C’mon.”
Joel and you tip toe out and round the garden to the front door with giggles, trying not to stumble over the long grass and patchy holes in the yard.
You’re almost to the car parked in the driveway when you hear screaming from inside, followed by the door opening and a midget Sarah running towards you with a red, tear-stricken face as Tommy is shouting “Hey get back here bug!”
“Mama!” She smashes her face into your dress and wraps her arm around your legs. Her little body trembles with sobs.
“Sarah, Mama’s here, it’s okay.” You pout and crouch down and hug her, cooing away her baby tears. 
Joel makes eye contact with Tommy who’s standing at the front door with an apologetic look. He shakes his head: mission failed. But he’s not giving in so easily.
The toddler sniffles and wipes her cheeks with puffy fists. She grabs your hand and leads you back inside the house, and Joel follows behind.
You sit and watch tv with her for a few minutes but she starts to look sleepy. Joel nudges you again, and you slide off the sofa carefully as can be. This time, you don’t even make it to the door before you feel a strong grip tugging at your dress.
Twice more over the next 40 minutes, Sarah comes screaming towards you, refusing to let you go.
Joel’s given up on the reservation and just hopes the two of you can snag a bar spot at this point.
“I’m sorry, she just keep slipping—“
“She’s got so much fat,” Joel grumbles as you plant fat kisses on her head and sway her side to side in your arms, “There’s no way she just ‘slips’. Just hold her down, Tommy!”
Sarah is glued to your leg, crying as you once again try to leave the house with Joel.
“No!nonononoNONONONONO!” She wails, bitty nails digging into your calf.
Joel gives Tommy a look just as Sarah is rubbing her face on your dress. "SARAH,” he shouts with a stern booming voice. His thick finger points down at her authoritatively. She hiccups, startled, and listens:
"Daddy and Mommy are LEAVING. Do you understand me?"
Her lips wobbles, eyes scrunching into a terrible fit before screeching at the top of her lungs in tears and going to hold you tighter. 
Before she reaches you, Tommy scoops her up by the belly and slings her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes at the same time Joel hoists you over his and takes you to the truck. 
Joel has to drag you to the car as you watch Sarah's teary red face and outstretched arm yelling for you dramatically from Tommy's shoulder before he closes the front door on her.
You sit in the passenger seat timidly. Joel angrily slams the door before rounding towards the driver side.
“Finally,” he grumbles, putting his seatbelt on and turning the ignition.
You sniffle a bit, looking at the window solemnly.
“You’re not crying, are ya?” He asks hesitantly.
“No!” You cry.
He grinds his jaw but continues to put the car in reverse. His warm hand pats along your thigh as you wipe the almost tears from your eyes. You refuse to let your makeup get ruined.
“It’s gonna be fine, Christ, Mama.”
You nod and cross your arms, thinking about your baby girl and her sad tears the entire ride.
-
At the restaurant, Joel managed to get a table despite the hostess grumbling about their lateness. He’s pleased, finally having you to himself, no child at the hip to worry about, just the two of you again like it all started.
He sips his wine and admires the view: you really put forth the effort tonight, your hair blown out and beautifully full, makeup neutral yet with a sexy hint of red lipstick, and the earrings and necklace compliment your looks perfectly.
Not to mention the boner he’s getting from seeing you in such a dress as if you were back in your 20s again.
"You look so beautiful," he says quietly with a smile.
"Yup sure do,” you say curtly, sipping your water quickly and then twiddling the button at the time on the phone.
He grunts disapprovingly. “Can you really not just relax—“
"We've never been apart from her this long!"
"Yes we have. When we both work. She goes to daycare. Tommy has baby sat her before."
"Mmmhgmmgmfmdmdddfgfggrrhrhrr but she--"
“She needs to learn to self sooth on her own. She’s FINE.” He reiterates. Joel refuses for this night, this one night in a very very long time, to be about Sarah! “What about us?"
You pause and look up from your anxious state, turning to a worried, perplexed one instead. “What do you mean? We're fine, aren't we?" You ask hesitantly, and he absolutely catches the wobble in your voice.
"Yes…! Oh honey, no I didn’t mean it like that. I mean... well…  I never get to see just you anymore."
Your eyes soften with remorse and heartfelt appreciation. “That's what happened when you have children, Joel."
"I know I know, and I love her to death, but Jesus I love you too! I loved you first and I miss just having you to myself sometimes too. I feel like I’m competing with her over you.”
You nod in agreement. “I’m sorry. I know I get so worked up. If she had a sister, it'd be so much easier on her.”
“How are we supposed to give her a sister if I can't get 5 seconds alone with you?" 
You hide the little grin on your face just as he dips to catch it with a satisfied smirk. “If that were the case, you would have taken me to a hotel tonight. Not dinner.”
Joel contemplates with wide eyes of realization at his mistaker of venue. “We can get this to-go right now. Can get to the holiday inn in 10 minutes, and I’m sure they got a room for the next few hours—“
You kick his shin and laugh. 
He can’t stop smiling with you. You’re finally relaxed now, and just as radiant as the first day he met you. Same when he married you, and every day you were glowing during the pregnancy. The only moment that beat it was when he saw you first hold your newborn in your arms.
“I can’t stop staring at you,” he admits. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
You bite the inside of your lip and check your phone again for the time. Butterflies kick up in your stomach and nestle somewhere south that has your your thighs clenching together. Throwing your hand up in the air to signal the waiter: “Can I get a to-go for this? We have somewhere to be, right now.”
-
You couldn’t manage to wait for the drive to the hotel. Forcing Joel to pull over on the side of some empty backroad, crawling into his lap and stripping his jacket just as you grind your panty-clad core into his slacked-bulge. 
“Fuck, oh my god,” he groans, pulling you flush against him and kissing you deeply. Both your hands are busy trying to undo the other’s clothes—his fingers working to unzip your dress, revealing your smooth back, breasts on display for groping. At the same time you nimbly fight each of his buttons to push your palms against his broad chest. Fighting to suck in air between each forceful kiss. Entangled in one another like horny teenagers.
“I miss this,” he hums against your cheek just as you reposition your underwear to the side with one hand, fisting his cock out of his slacks with the other. His hands glide over your ass, patting your cheek once, ruffling the slit in your dress.
“Me too,” you snicker, finally settling his tip at your entrance. “I miss being able to straddle you without a belly,” you add quickly, and he almost laughs were it not for the synchronous moan you both let out as you sink down on his length fully.
Your eyes flutter, but a gentle grasp of your jaw pulls your face just an inch from his. “I want you to watch me,” he groans. “Watch me make love to you.” Your lips hover over his plump ones as you begin to slowly rock up and down along his massive cock. “That’s it, that’s my wife. So good f’me.”
You nod, whimpering softly. Each little hump pushes his tip deeper, nudging your g-spot effortlessly.
“So full,” you whine.
“You take it so good, baby. Always have.” His arms wrap securely around your hips as you grind on one another. He really was made for you. Your walls always fit like a glove around him, just tight enough to make him nearly blow his load each time were it not for an extreme amount of effort to avoid it. Every change to your body since having Sarah has only made his lips and hands hungrier to feel, the new dips and curves, soft plush areas just begging to be grasped by him. He wants it, wants you and so much more.
“Joel,” you warn, keening with little high pitched etches caught in your throat. “M’gonna cum.”
“Me too,” he rasps. “Gonna do it inside. You gonna take it?”
You nod, tears of euphoria welling in your eyes as you whimper.
“Gonna put another baby in ya? Right fuckin’ here, in my truck behind a restaurant? That how you want it? Dirty dirty girl, holy fuck—“
You gasp, your entire boy trembling against him as you cum. He captures your lips before you let out your moan, walls contracting around him until he feels his lower tummy snap. Balls twitching, he grunts into your mouth as he spills his generous seed deep into your womb. It’s so much, so pent up, so drawn out. 
It’s the best mind-clearing cure you’ve ever had. 
You collapse forward on him, slouched and panting against his sweaty neck. Your soft lips connect with his collarbone. He pecks your forehead, brushing the hair from your face.
It’s not comfortable at all, scrunched up here in his car. neither of you are nearly as young as the recent activity suggest, but with his strong arms wrapped lovingly around you, the fog blurring the windows and separating the two of you from the rest of the world, you could stay like this forever.
It’s quiet in Joel’s arm. Just the two of you—
His phone buzzes in his pocket and you fish out the device.
12 missed calls from Tommy.
You sit straight up and hit your head on the roof. “Ow!” 
But there’s no time to hurt, not when Tommy’s last text message isa jumbled mess : ‘45ssfgh5 vi w2434467777$$75%refft+..87’ 
“Oh my God! OhmyGod—OHMYGOD— Joel, we need to go home right fucking now! What if they’re incoherent? What if something crashed into the house? What if it’s a fire? What if someone broke in—!”
He wipes his face with both hands. Truth is, he knew his phone was going off all night, but if you weren’t getting any messages, then it couldn’t have been an emergency. It was best to deliberately ignore whatever Tommy, a grown adult, couldn’t figure out on his own.
“Alright alright. We’ll go—“
“HURRY THE FUCK UP!” You scratch, setting into the passenger seat and reaching to turn the keys for him.
He slaps your hand away offensively before tucking his softened, creamy cock back inside his trousers and speeding back home.
Low and behold, as you nearly trip out of the car towards the house (the very intact, not on fire, not broken into, normal looking house just as you left it,) you stumble into the front door to see Tommy passed out on the couch with a drooling Sarah propped up against his shoulder.
Clutched in her tiny hands is Tommy’s massive phone that is the side of her arm, with Joel’s contact open and a half jumbled message of random letters and numbers still half written before she must have fallen asleep.
You sigh heavily.
Joel comes in right after you and chuckles as you catch your breath. You smack him on the shoulder. 
“Probably shouldn’t wake her,” he whispers to you with a peck to the lips. You pout but obey, not wanting to make a scene right as she’s asleep.
He walks over to his younger brother and flicks his forehead.
“M’up!” He mumbles.
“You’re supposed to put her to bed before you fall asleep.” He scoops his sleepy baby into his arms and carries her off to her room, leaving the door cracked.
Joel escorts Tommy out just as you unlatch your earring. You glance back towards her room, the light from the kitchen illuminating a sliver of the bed, and Sarah has somehow miraculously disappeared.
You’re running out after Joel, who’s opening Tommy’s truck door just as you both see something waddling in the dark and getting into the back seat by herself.
“Sarah!” 
The toddler rubs her sleepy eyes but doesn’t respond, just sits quietly in uncle Tommy’s truck with the lap belt pulled over her seat.
Joel, on the other hand, sees the opportunity to get you alone, loud, and spread out in bed all to himself for the rest of the night. “Yes, take her!" He encourages. Tommy grumbles with his hands on his hips.
You shake your head in disbelief and shove past him. “Sarah no! Mommy's home! Let's cuddle—“
"No." She says plainly. "I go to MeeMee now."
"No! You stay with Mommy!" You cry. 
She shakes her head again more defiantly, but her little voice cracks as just mumbles. “You lef me!”
Your heart is cracking in a million pieces, chest aching so badly as water blurs your vision. “I’m sorry! Please I won't do it ever again!"
"No!"
"You're never watching my child again. Thomas!” you seethe at defenseless Tommy.
 Now you and Sarah are crying and hyperventilating in the driveway at 10pm.
"Daddy made me!" You wail like a baby yourself. sounding almost indistinguishable from Sarah now. Fat tears spill down both of your faces, sagged shoulders twitching with each sniffle. 
You and Sarah both huff and wipe your puffy red eyes. 
Finally, Sarah speaks up with her little sobs subsided: “Daddy go to MeeMee and Mommy and RaRa stay home.”
“Deal. Joel, pack your bags,” you say plainly, straightening up and reaching out for Sarah, who gladly accepts you in her arms. 
As you walk with her on your hip back to the house without another word, Tommy glances back in amusement.
And just like that, Joel was #2 again.
-
Joel fluffs the flat pillow on Tommy’s bed. The two of them sharing the full mattress since the younger brother only just moved into his new apartment, not having picked up any other furniture at the moment except for his tiny ass mattress.
"You think this is real funny don't you,” Joel grumbles. He tugs on the blanket and shifts uncomfortably over to his side, facing away.
Tommy chuckles and wipes his face, trying to clear the soreness from his cheeks after laughing all the way home. “Hell yeah. You wanted that, all of it, remember?"
Joel just grins happily, subconsciously twirling the gold band on his ring finger. He checks his phone one last time, the picture of you and Sarah as an infant in his arms smiling up at him. "Yeah. Yeah I do." 
-
 He’s achy and exhausted when comes back home in the early morning. Tommy had kicked him off the bed in his sleep, so the older brother just walked home for 20 minutes.
 It’s not until he sees you and Sarah curled up on his bed together, her little pjs riled up over her fat belly, fist clutched above her head, and you with your protective hand around her hip, nose buried in her hair, breathing so softly in unison, that he can't imagine anything better. He kisses both your heads before walking back towards door.
There’s a little rustle and patter noise behind him, and Joel stops, almost shouting and jumping up when he turns to see little Sarah standing on his heels looking up to him. She points to the bed with very pouty lips and tired yet steamy eyes. Joel takes her hand and she guides him to the bed.
She clutches the side and hoists herself up with all her might before Joel joins in on his vacant side. Two tubby fingers grip his cheeks and pull him to stare directly into her soul a she says clearly: “Don’t ever take Mama away again. You understan me?" With a fat digit pointed inches from his eyeball.
He swallows and nods fearfully: “Yes ma’am". 
Switching on a dime, his babygirl smiles gently and kisses his scruffy cheek. Her little head settles onto his shoulder just as he tucks her between the two of you, curling around her and nuzzling himself into your hair.
He sighs heavily and feels himself falling asleep, his family finally wrapped up into his arms. 
"Daddy," Sarah says after 12 seconds of silence, rubbing her eyes. “Chocwit pancakes."
Your head jolts up and you hazily grumble, “Ooo pancakes yes please! Can you put chocwit chips in them?" 
You fall back onto the pillow, pulling Sarah back into your arms with a content, lazy smile.
He rolls his eyes and crawls out of bed just as Sarah and you cuddle closer together and fall back asleep.
 - - - - 
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