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gutsby · 4 months

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Watch Your Mouth

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel teaches you to keep quiet during sex.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Silence kink. Size kink. Breeding kink. Age gap. Joel is a lot more experienced (!) Finger sucking. Orgasm denial. Soft dom!Joel x10000.

Word count: 1.9k

Maybe a hand was too much.

A kiss to stifle your cries, a tongue between your lips to steal any trace of a whimper before it could ever leave. Joel knew by the way your wet, pliant hole stretched wider and wider for him with each thrust that you’d eventually quiet down—but he needed silence now.

And he’d get it when he clamped his palm over your mouth. At first, your brows lifted with surprise, then pinched inward like you didn’t understand, then twitched again, involuntarily, when the head of his cock cleared a path straight toward your cervix. You whimpered into his hand and made a point to dig your heels even deeper in his back. Joel had promised he’d be better about that.

“‘M’sorry,” he mumbled.

Another stab. Another whimper, only louder this time.

“Sorry, baby, I’m—” Joel stopped to fight back a groan of his own, before pressing his palm down with even more force, “—sorry, jus’ need ya real quiet right now, okay?”

You tried to nod, but the weight and stricture of his grip were as heavy as lead against your face. Add to that the soft, sawing motions of his cock going in and out of your cunt and the nudge of his oversized tip at your cervix, and it was all you could do to just lay there and take it. Joel knew this was brand new to you—he’d been your first not too long ago and the only partner since—so he eased back and lifted his hand when you gave it a tug.

Grey stubble was already licking at the corners of your mouth with Joel’s minuscule kisses of reassurance when you giggled and squeezed him tighter between your legs:

“I’m tryin’, Joel. Really, I am,” you whispered.

“I know, sweet pea,” he whispered back, “I know.”

He took the palm he’d used to stifle your moans and smoothed it over your cheek, coming to rest at one side so he could kiss you fully. Maybe a hand was too much.

He’d inculcate restraint some other way, and if it didn’t come easy, a few more fucks on the forest floor like this one would probably do the trick. Your mouth opened up for his tongue just like your cunt would open up for more of his cum and the rest of your body would surely follow suit, learning to control the noises of pleasure as needed.

“Good girl,” Joel murmured against your lips, feeling you clench around him and expel a breath rather than whine. He withdrew himself to the tip, then plunged back in, “Such a good, perfect girl for me, ain’t ya, sweetheart?”

At length, you yelped into his mouth. You couldn’t help it. Rather than reprimand you with words or smother your lips with his palm, though, Joel kept fucking you gently.

“‘S’okay, pretty girl, it’s okay. I know that feels good.”

His mouth was next to your ear now, praises audible to no one else but you. It added a whole new dimension to your pleasure; Joel could tell from the way your walls constricted around him and choked him, sucked him in. The feeling nearly elicited a groan from his chest, but of course, he had all the resolve of a seasoned professional. Decades and decades of practice had done that for him.

“Joel,” you mewled.

Your face was screwed up in a grimace, eyes likely to be brimming with tears any second now. Joel slowed his pace once more, felt a pang of guilt for how big he felt inside you—how those decades and decades of practice set you drastically apart from each other in experience—and this time, he didn’t try to muffle your whines. He just stroked the top of your cheek with one thumb, and with the other, snaked a path between your body and his.

Admittedly, Joel was still learning about yours. He wasn’t sure if the whimpers you’d made were born wholly of pleasure or just a sense of being stretched out and filled. Because you yourself were still learning to be vocal, Joel figured he’d give the latter a stab. He started thumbing your clit in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure.

It worked, and it didn’t.

Your walls parted easily beneath the quiet ministrations of his thumb, opening yourself more to Joel’s thrusts, but they also tore a scream out of your throat—the kind that was liable to stir the leaves on every tree and alert any clicker within a two-mile radius to your presence.

The kind of outcome Joel had been trying to prevent when he’d brought you on patrol with him in the first place. The kind of sound he was trying to fuck out of your body completely; teach you to keep quiet and still for when the two of you inevitably got bored during perimeter watch and rolled the sleeping bag out to fuck.

Joel tensed above you and cast a quick look around. Sure, he’d picked a decently safe spot, but then you—

“Joel, I—”

Without thinking, the man stopped and stuck the first thing he could possibly fit in your mouth: his thumb. Whatever you’d been trying to say to him was promptly lost in a hum against his knuckle, lips enveloping the thick, callused digit like some tangy-flavored lolly. Joel’s hips sank back into yours, slowly, and he felt the reverberations of another moan spill over his finger.

He swallowed and stared. That shouldn’t have been nearly as sexy as you’d just made it seem, especially when your life and his hung in such a precarious position.

Joel dragged his cock back out and happened to graze a sensitive, spongy ridge inside you, which made you moan again. You hollowed your cheeks and gritted your teeth a bit more against his thumb, gripping Joel’s forearm for support as he continued to fuck you.

And, had you stayed like that a moment longer, you probably would’ve seen a shiny string of drool start to pool and stretch and fall out from one side of his mouth. Instead, Joel switched hands and popped the thumb that had been toying with your clit into your mouth, eyes glazed over with desire as they drank in the sight of you sucking his thumb again. The tip was still soaked with your warmth and slipped easily past your parted lips.

Another sound bubbled up your throat when you got a taste—Joel had always been in the habit of kissing you after eating you out, so you were well-acquainted with the flavor, but never had he fed you your own arousal on his finger. This felt obscene, something more than just pornographic as those deep, brown, lust-addled irises remained glued to where your lips closed around him.

“Y’like that, huh?” he said, voice reduced to a whisper once more while you nipped and suckled at the skin.

You bobbed your head to indicate yes, opened your mouth to tell him softly that you liked it so much—loved the taste and grit of his finger on your tongue, in fact. You wanted to show him you could be vocal, too, when Joel’s frame rose over yours a little more and seemed to blanket it entirely. Like he wanted to shield you, in a way.

“Shhhh, shhh…keep suckin’ like that. Stay still, okay?” Joel murmured, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out that this was a test. He was nodding, rutting gently between your legs, wedging his thumb deeper inside the wet, velvety contours of your mouth and waiting for a look from you to say that you understood.

You weren’t sure if you did, but you nodded anyway. Joel’s thumb made a wonderful sort of makeshift gag as he continued to thrust inside of you, his body somehow lowering to get even closer to yours. When he’d gotten sufficiently near, he pressed a kiss to the side of your mouth—now stuffed with his thumb and leaking spit—and muttered something about how good you were for him, how nicely you fit around his cock. Then he tilted his hips and proceeded to pound you into the ground like an animal in heat. The only thing separating your ass from the patch of grass underneath it was a flimsy little blanket, and the only thing tethering you to earth, it seemed, was Joel’s cock. Your ankles locked behind his back, and his nose settled next to yours, breathing hard.

Even if he knew how to suppress his moans, the panting and strangled gasps were far beyond Joel’s control—as were the filthy, perverse words pouring out of his mouth.

“‘S’all mine, ain’t she, hon? Tell me this pussy’s mine.”

“Tell me she’s mine to fuck, stuff full’a cum, right here.”

And he gestured to the spot where your body stopped and his began, squelching noises punctuating each new thrust. Neither one of you minded the sound right now, especially when you knew where this was headed next.

Joel was grinning against your skin before he kissed it.

“She wants a baby, doesn’t she, honey? Wants me to put a baby in her and make that belly swell up pretty?”

You knew just as well as Joel that neither of you wanted children in a world like this—thoughts of breeding only occurred to you both when you were about to cum. Particularly when Joel’s thumb was slipping out of your mouth and his fingers were pinching either side of your face in a single grip, lips moving above yours. Making you meet his gaze as he squeezed your cheeks in a pout.

“You want my babies, baby?” Joel mumbled.

You felt a familiar twitch in his cock. You nodded.

Joel pinched harder and shook his head, unsatisfied.

“Say, ‘I want your babies, Joel.’”

“I want your babies, Joel.”

“Say, ‘I’ll be nice and quiet if you cum inside me.’”

“I’ll be nice and quiet if you cum inside me, please, Joel.”

Your voice was already hoarse from how low you had to whisper, how hard Joel’s broad and hefty stomach was pressing into your own, stealing the breath from your lungs and wreaking havoc on your brain as you struggled for air and imagined a world where your tummy was a little rounder. Plugged up with his cum one day and growing bigger with his child there inside you the next. The thought was dizzying in the abstract, enticing to the slightest degree in reality, and if you had to guess from the expression of the man currently sweating, grunting, and rutting into your body, you’d bet he felt the same.

It really was a shame you had to stay so quiet.

But, whether a clicker was five miles away or standing directly over his shoulder, Joel didn’t seem to care at all. Soft, silent reserve cast aside for the time being and hips slamming a bruising pace against your own, Joel seemed fine to let out sounds to show he was right about to cum. Grunts and whimpers were spilling left and right off his filthy, pretty tongue; his eyes were all but rolling back.

Truly, he couldn’t look more magnificent if he tried.

“Fuck, baby, I’m— I’m so close. Gonna fill you up.”

Featherlight clusters of soft grey hair were now darkened with sweat. They rested comfortably across his forehead. Under them, two thick brows furrowed in concentration.

“Gonna knock you up,” he added through gritted teeth.

That part was not a threat, but a promise.

You felt a tug and a pinch in your own stomach, signaling your oncoming release. You spread your legs wider for Joel, pressed a kiss to his jaw when he leaned in closer, made room for him to spill his load just how he wanted, and when it seemed he was a second from his peak—

A twig snapped nearby.

Both of you froze in place.

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