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cowboymarcs · 10 months

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ride, cowgirl

joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you ask joel if you can ride him

warnings: smut, piv, riding, fingering, one use of the word daddy (i'm sorry), joel's southern drawl, soft sex

word count: 1.1K

joel’s scruff tickled your face as you kissed him, lips molding together, his tongue teasing yours. you couldn’t get enough of him. his soft lips and hard, defined chest; his thick brows that furrowed as you pulled away. there was lust in his eyes - a look that you were grateful for (considering that your panties were soaked).

joel bent forward, pressing sloppy kisses against your neck. you whispered his name, as desperate as a prayer. your voice only spurred him on, pressing you up against the kitchen counter, the sharp edge poking your lower back. you arched, pressing into him, running your fingers through his soft hair. an idea sparked through your mind.

“joel..”

“yeah darlin’?”

“can i ride you?”

his lips against your neck stilled, cock growing painfully hard. he licked a trail upwards and bit the shell of your ear softly.

“fuck, baby. ‘course you can.” he was breathless, in awe of you. “let’s go upstairs.”

joel led you up the stairs, fingers laced within yours. you peeked in ellie’s room, mentally noting to be quiet. joel’s eyes found yours, reading your mind.

“nothin’ to worry about, darlin’. ellie’s at cat’s.” you nodded, following him into his room across the hall and shutting the door behind you. you crawled onto his bed, relishing in his soft covers. he sat at the edge of the bed, a small smile on his face.

“you gonna fuck me baby? or are you just gonna lay in my bed all night?”

you sat up, skin warming at his brusque words. you leaned onto your hands, crawling towards him. you crawled onto his lap, looping your arms around his neck.

“can’t i do both?” you smiled, feeling his cock twitch underneath you. you ground your cunt onto him, the hard of his cock rubbing against your clit. you let out a soft moan before joel captured your lips again.

joel released you, only for a moment to discard his flannel and jeans and lay himself against the headboard. you took the opportunity to do the same, both of you only in your underwear now. you sat on his lap, once again rubbing your clit along his thick shaft. his warm, calloused hands grazing up and down along your sides, then reaching up and cupping your lace-covered breasts.

“god, sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” joel breathed, enamored with you. enamored with your body, your pussy, your heart. his chest swelled at the sight of you grinding your hips back and forth upon his. he leaned forward, letting your bra straps fall and unhooking it, throwing it to the floor. your breasts fell, nipples perked. joel was quick to take one in his mouth, sucking on your sensitive nipple, while pinching and kneading the other.

you moaned, running your hands through his hair once again, gripping tight and pulling him close. your pussy clenched around nothing, aching for his thick cock. you took joel’s wrist in your hand, pulling it from your nipple and leading it down to your cunt. his fingers ghosted down your stomach before slowly dipping down past your panties.

his thick fingers brushed your clit gently, pulling a gasp from you before continuing further, dipping into your wet hole. he pushed one finger into your tight heat and curled, causing your head to fall onto his muscular shoulder.

“joel,” you whined, wetness dripping down his finger. “i need you.”

he tsked. “need to open you up first darlin’. don’t want daddy’s cock to hurt ya, right?”

you nodded, dazed. all you could think about was joel and his strong shoulders and his thick voice and his big dick. all you could think about was his hot mouth on yours as you squeezed around his finger. he added another, slowly stretching your pussy, thumb rolling over your swollen clit.

“jo-” you started, almost asking him to fuck you again, but he shushed you.

“you ready?” you nodded as he pulled his fingers out of you, and slid your panties off. you did the same to his boxers, tossing both to the floor. you stared at his thick cock in awe, his head pink and swollen and beautiful. you met his eyes and kissed him fervently, his cock brushing through your folds. your whimpers were the only sound heard throughout the house.

you wrapped a hand around his length, slowly sinking onto him. your cunt stretched around his broad girth and you squeezed your eyes shut at the burn. joel pulled you into a kiss again, seeking to ease your pain.

“s’okay darlin’, i got you. go real slow.” once he was fully sheathed, you sat for a moment, adjusting to his size and resting your forehead against his. you began to move slowly, letting his tip brush lightly against your g-spot.

“feels good, joel. feels so good,” you slurred, picking up your pace. you were bouncing on him now, putting on a show. his eyes shifted from your face, mouth open and moaning, to your breasts bouncing along with you, to the sight of your cunt sliding up and down along his cock. his hands rested on your ass now, helping you glide up and forcing you down, his head bruising your spot.

“f-fuck!” you whimpered, head thrown back.

“so fuckin gorgeous,” joel grunted, watching you lean back and letting his dick curve and hit your spot even harder. his gaze was glued to your pussy, amazed at the way your wet cunt swallowed him. “tell me this pussy’s mine.”

“it’s yours, joel, all yours.” your moans became staccato as joel grabbed your ass harder and began to fuck you from beneath, lewd slapping filling the room. you fell forward, hands gripping his shoulders as you locked eyes with him, wanting to watch him as he came. his own moans started to sound, mixing with yours.

“want you to come with me, baby. can you do that for me?” you could tell he was close, just by the change in his voice. the hunger that laced his voice. you nodded frantically, your hand reaching down to touch your clit, rubbing tight, hard circles to the pace that he was fucking you at.

“i’m close, joel.”

“ugh,” he moaned, “me too. where do you want it, darlin’?”

“inside, please, please fill me up, joel!” you exclaimed as the tightness built up, cresting as you came. your nails dug into his shoulders, overwhelmed with pure pleasure. seconds later, you felt his dick twitch, and the warmth of his come filling your cunt.

you fell forward, resting your head on his chest, his dick softening inside of you. you placed a peck on his sternum before laying your ear to his chest, hearing his soft heartbeat echo. his hand found your hair, fingers pushing it behind your ear. you felt safe in his embrace, eventually falling asleep to the hum of his breath and the rise and fall of his chest.

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vivwritescrappythings · 6 months

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Yours

joel miller x fem!reader

Finally finishing the request for a Joel Miller fic inspired by "Jealous" by Nick Jonas for @prettyinpunk85 (I hope you like it)

You get new neighbors in Jackson, Joel doesn't like how much attention they pay to you so he decides to teach them a lesson.

tw: afab and fem reader, p in v sex, alludes to curvy reader, age gap (twenty years), exhibitionism, some dubcon, dirty talk, no use of y/n, unsafe sex (do as i say not as fanfic writes), oral (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, jealous joel, written from joel's perspective (may be bad)

Word Count: 4.8k

MDNI

masterlist

—

Joel didn’t know what to do with himself when you’d happily announced that you had new neighbors. The house next to his in Jackson had been empty for some time, it was yours until you decided to move in with him and Ellie. He was hoping the neighbors would be a family, or maybe some older survivors. Really, someone you could be friends with, he knew you were way too extroverted for just his company.

But instead the new neighbors were his nightmare: two guys–in their twenties.

You were young for Joel, he knew that. Part of him had always attributed your interest in him to the fact that choices were limited in the zombie apocalypse. He hadn’t even known how to flirt with you, awkwardly leaving tattered books he had found during supply runs on your front porch, sometimes accompanied by wilted wildflowers. One day he had left you a bookshelf he’d built, endless hours spent in his studio sanding the wood to perfection and carving flowers into the border. You had to ask him to come over to help you move it inside.

That was over two years ago, and he still had no clue why a pretty thing like you had decided to even talk to him, let alone be with him. To be honest, no one else in Jackson understood it, either. You worked at the small bakery on Main Street and wanted to convert one of the buildings into a library. You liked to sew pretty dresses and planted superficial flowers outside of the house in the summertime.

Joel was nothing of the sort, keeping everyone at an arm’s length aside from Tommy and Ellie. He stayed on the fringes of community events, always present but never participating. Ellie was loud enough for the both of them, boisterous and friendly and everything he wasn’t. He was happy to watch her thrive.

So the first time she asked him to go to the bakery so she could hang out with a friend, he reluctantly agreed. He’d introduced himself to you like a complete idiot, blushing when you laughed and informed him that you were neighbors. Joel had become enamored with you from the second he saw your smile, the way your eyes crinkled at the edges and your cheeks lifted. He could’ve died a happy man right there at the counter.

From then on, he claimed that bakery visits were firmly his responsibility.

He sucked up every piece of information you gave him, starting with your favorite items at the shop and spiraling until he knew that you loved wildflowers and what books you liked to read. Joel was greedy, he wanted to know everything about you–he wanted to be the only person that knew everything about you.

That was when he started leaving you gifts at your door, and the rest was history.

So when you swatted his hand away from the cooling cookies on the rack in the kitchen, his brown eyes regarded you with betrayal. “They’re for the neighbors,” you informed him, untying your cute, frilly little apron and hanging it on the hook he’d installed.

The neighbors.

They had already become adversaries in a war that only he knew existed. Joel sighed, heavy boots plodding against the floor until he could wrap his arms around your waist and pull your back to his chest. “Now why are you giving the neighbors my cookies?” he asked, nuzzling the tip of his nose against your temple.

“To be friendly, Joel,” you said with a giggle, turning in his arms to look up at him. His big, scarred hands were on the small of your back, fingertips rubbing gentle circles through your shirt. He swore his heart stopped every time you looked up at him, your thick eyelashes fluttering as your lips quirked into a smile. “Something that you are unfamiliar with.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “M’friendly,” he protested, pecking you on the lips as though it would prove his point.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, leaning up and kissing the corner of his lip once before squirming out of his grip. You retrieved one of the few plates that didn’t have a chip missing from the cabinet, transferring the cookies onto it with care. “It took you how many months to talk to me?”

Even if the question wasn’t rhetorical, he decided to treat it that way. He moved closer to you, a possessive hand curling around your waist and lips meeting your shoulder. “To prove you wrong, I’ll come with you to introduce ourselves to the neighbors.” He wanted to keep an eye on them, let them know that his pretty girlfriend was in fact taken before they got any wrong ideas.

Your brow furrowed, immediately suspicious of his motives. “Who are you and what have you done with Joel Miller?”

He smiled, trying to be sweet and smooth like he used to be when he was younger. Before everything. “Maybe I just want to be nice, wildflower. Ever thought of that?”

Your eyes dragging across him let him know that you weren’t convinced. The two of you stared at one another, waiting to see who would cave first. Apparently it was you. “Fine, but I know you’re up to something.”

Joel’s hand was firmly planted on the small of your back as you stepped out into the afternoon sun, the whole world looking like it was dipped in gold. You went up the rickety porch stairs first, Joel only a half step behind you as you adjusted the plate to one hand to knock on the door.

He was staring at the way the blue paint was starting to peel, thinking about how no self-respecting man would let his house fall into disrepair like that. No mind that they had only moved in a few days ago, they should’ve repainted the front door by now–it was people’s first impression whenever they walked up to the house.

It took a moment after you knocked for the door to swing open, two blonde idiots who looked like they were straight out of a magazine advertisement standing on the other side. Their blue eyes lit up when they saw you, easy smiles gracing their features like they hadn’t been battle-hardened by the outbreak.

Not like Joel was.

Joel’s fingers dug into your back, his expression hardening. They tempered their excitement when they saw him, standing so close to you that he could practically be your shadow.

He loathed the way they were looking at you, his jaw set tight and flexing beneath his beard. You were talking, he could hear the notes of your voice like you were speaking underwater–he was too focused on the dopey smiles in front of you to even pay attention to what was being said. You made them laugh, they said something back to you. Probably their names if he had to guess.

Before he even realized, you were tugging him back down their porch steps and into your shared home, flitting away to make Joel his own personal batch of cookies like nothing had happened.

–

Three times that week he had come home to find them loitering outside the front door or talking to you along the edge of the freshly painted picket fence. They were always showering you with compliments, be it about your cookies or the flowers you’d carefully planted in the boxes Joel had built you. They scattered whenever Joel was there, making excuses about chores that needed to get done or errands that needed to be finished.

But he knew better.

Of course, you talked about the nice boys next door over dinner, it took everything in him to not immediately scowl at the mention of them. The fact that you referred to them as boys was laughable, they were closer to your age than he was—maybe a few years difference between you at most. Nothing compared to his whopping couple decades. He tried to brush the thought away as quickly as it sprouted.

He humored you, knowing that you just thought that everyone was kind and friendly and honest because you were. That was what he loved about you.

–

The last straw was when he was out in the back installing a porch swing for you to read on. They were doing something, near enough to the tall fence splitting the yards that he could hear them talking as clear as day.

Joel almost went over there to give them a piece of his mind, listening to them speculate about why you were with him. They were laughing as they bet that he couldn’t even get it up anymore, that there was no way he was taking care of you like a man was supposed to.

He was old, angry. And you… you weren’t.

He was seething by the time they finished up and went into their house, his hands nearly shaking when he finished screwing the brackets into the roof. Back in the QZ, Joel would have probably fought them—killed them, if he was honest with himself.

It would be easy to bust down their door and give them his retribution, he wasn’t always the domesticated beast he’d become for you. But nevertheless, he sucked it up. You would be devastated if he fought with them, as much as he would love to feel their skin split under his knuckles. He couldn’t do that to you.

—

It was a few evenings later that he got what he wanted: an opportunity for his revenge. You were on the porch swing with him, the two of you nestled together in the orange rays of the sunset. You both were reading, Joel’s arm tucked around your shoulders so your chin was pressed against his bicep.

You always were fully immersed in your books, an earthquake could happen and you would have no clue. So you didn’t hear your neighbors’ back door slide open, but Joel did.

He barely moved, didn’t bother to say a word as his broad hand moved from cupping your shoulder to gently graze around the side of your breast. It was a lazy day for the two of you, you were only dressed in one of Joel’s flannels and pajama shorts that were so loose around your thighs you may as well have never put them on.

You immediately shivered at his touch, your thumb slipping between the pages of your book to hold your place. “Joel, the neighbors,” you whispered, twisting so you could look up at him.

“Went on a hunting trip, they’re not home,” he said loud enough for them to hear. Hopefully they would have the good sense to shut up. His thumb circled your already stiff nipple, a smirk stretching across his features conspiratorially. “C’mon, Ellie’s at a friend’s house and no one’s here—let’s test out the porch swing.”

Your lips were already parted, the heat building on the back of your neck so intense Joel could feel it through his shirt. “Joel,” you whined in the way that made him get hard as a fucking rock in his pants.

“Yeah?” he asked, suddenly playing dumb as though he hadn’t started it.

You pouted, your brow furrowing and bottom lip jutting out as you arched your tit further into his hand. He acquiesced immediately—he always did—pinching your nipple through the well worn fabric of his flannel. His reward was a soft moan from you, your body both melting into and arching away from his.

“What’s my girl want?” Joel asked, his voice a deep rasp as he stamped his lips against your temple. The small of your back was pressed against his oblique, your cheek squishing into his collarbone as he watched your thick thighs press together. He kept toying with your nipple, his free hand setting his book aside and pulling yours from your clutch. “C’mon, you gotta tell me. Can’t read minds.”

You huffed, you always hated it when he made you ask for what you wanted. “Joel please,” you whined, pressing your heels against the cushion that covered the wooden seat and sitting up so you were flush against him.

“Please what?” His free hand skimmed down your side, snapping the stretched-out, elastic waistband of your shorts. It made you squeak, a quiet giggle coming from your throat.

“God, please just touch me,” you whined, your impatience making him chuckle darkly. His hand moved from your waist, tracing over the pudge of your stomach and dipping into your loose sleep shorts. There was nothing beneath, just your soft skin and the curly patch of hair on your pubic bone.

“No panties? You slut,” Joel teased, his fingers traveling even further down until they sunk into your cunt. You were wet and warm, almost scalding his skin as he parted the lips of your sex to find your swollen clit. “And already so soaked.”

You moaned, a hand winding around his bicep as your back arched. He kissed the crown of your head as he rubbed your clit between the pads of his pointer and middle fingers, slow and soft. He knew you’d complain, beg him for more. He just wondered how long it would take until you did.

Not long at all, it was maybe half a minute when you rocked your hips impatiently against his hand. “Joel, you’re being mean.” You were loud, louder than you would ever mean to be with the threat of someone possibly catching you.

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “Mean? Not true,” he countered, increasing the pressure he was putting on your clit. If he strained his ears he could hear how wet you were, a quiet squelching noise barely muffled by the fabric of your shorts. You pressed your hips further against his hand, your teeth digging into your lower lip to keep your noises to a minimum.

He dipped to gather more slick at your fluttering entrance, teasing it for a moment before returning to your clit. You were being so good for him, so sweet. His other hand unbuttoned the flannel you were wearing down to your navel, freeing your breast for him to knead and squeeze in his broad palm.

Your eyebrows bunched together, your lips parting as your gaze was stuck on where his hand disappeared beneath your shorts. “Feeling good?” he asked, relishing in your moan of agreement as you nodded.

Joel smirked, pulling his hand from your shorts. “No–oh my god,” you protested, nearly up in arms. If looks could kill, he would be struck dead. He stood, his dark eyes briefly looking over the fence to see the neighbors still on their porch, their jaws dropped to their chests.

His smile widened as he sank to his knees in front of you, your protests dropping off as you lifted your hips so he could take your shorts off. A wicked grin stretched on your features, you sucked your bottom lip back into your mouth as your gaze roved over him. You settled so your ass was almost hanging off the porch swing, spreading your legs without Joel having to direct you to do so.

“You want me to eat this pretty pussy of yours?” he asked, rough hands smoothing along the insides of your soft thighs. Joel wasn’t a man with a weakness for pretty things, but there was something about your slick and puffy pussy dripping for him that made his heart nearly stop.

“Fuck, please, Joel.” He loved the way you begged.

Joel pressed his mouth to the soaking mess of your sex, moaning at your salty-sweet taste on his tongue. He could never get enough of you, settling one leg over the curve of his shoulder as his other hand pressed your knee to your chest. The sun was shining in his eyes, but he didn’t let it stop him from looking up at your face. He lapped at your cunt with firm, long strokes, practically drinking from you.

In a moment of generosity, he pressed the middle and ring finger of his free hand knuckle-deep in your pussy, pulling a loud and broken moan from your chest. He was smiling into your pussy, suckling at your swollen clit as he pumped his fingers into you.

Your fingers tangled into his dark brown curls, grabbing at them in a way that sent shivers down his spine as you pulled his head flush against you. Joel loved the way your soft thighs pressed against his ears, almost muffling the sweet sounds falling from your pretty lips. Almost. Being outside had made you reckless, the promise of Ellie and the neighbors being gone letting you reach a volume that he hadn’t heard in a long time.

Of course, Joel knew better. He ate you like a starving man, proud that every sound you made was heard by the two men–boys–sitting on the other side of the fence.

His knees on the concrete ached, his back protesting being curled so he could keep his mouth pressed tightly against your weepy cunt. The pain was worth it, every second of it was worth it just to make you fall apart. Just to remind the world that you were his and his alone.

Your head had fallen back to rest on the bench, your eyes scrunched closed as you gasped. Joel’s fingers crooked inside of you, finding the spongy spot at the front of your cunt. It made you writhe, the hand keeping you spread apart for him pinning you down and forcing you to be somewhat still as he pressed at that spot mercilessly. His eyes remained on you as much as they could, taking in every heaving breath and the way your breasts moved under the fabric of his unbuttoned shirt.

It was only moments more until you were coming apart at the seams. You’d squirmed out of his hold, your heels digging into his broad back. Your legs clamped around his head, your back nearly broken with an arch. The sound you made was almost wounded, a desperate cry of his name as your legs spasmed and you practically gushed over his hand.

He worked you through the aftershocks, your pussy fluttering deliciously around his thick fingers. Your hold on his hair loosened just enough for him to pull away, mouthing at the crease between your thigh and your cunt. You came back to yourself, breathing again as your legs relaxed to rest on his shoulder. He peppered sticky, wet kisses on your inner thighs.

“Joel, oh my god,” you sighed, scrubbing a hand over your face as you panted. A laugh left your chest, making him grin like an idiot as he rested his facial-hair covered cheek against your leg and caught his breath.

“Clean these up for me,” he requested, his soaked fingertips now pressing at her bottom lip. They glistened in the afternoon sunlight, a sticky film coating the entirety of them. You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment, your bratty streak coming through before you submitted and opened your mouth to let his fingers slide against your warm tongue.

You sealed your lips around them, sucking your slick off earnestly and rolling your tongue along his digits. “What a good girl, sucking on my fingers like that,” Joel said as he stood, making eye contact with the neighbors before looking back down at you. His knees protested the movement, cracking a bit as he straightened.

He had to check to see if they were paying attention, the blush across their faces visible from across the yard.

A hum against his fingers brought Joel’s attention back to you. You watched him through your thick eyelashes, the sight alone making him feel like he was going to blow his load.

Your hands found the tie at his sweatpants, pulling the bow apart impatiently. You let go of his fingers with a pop, your soft lips shiny with a mix of your spit and slick as you started to pull his sweatpants down. “Wanna suck your cock, Joel,” you said, almost sounding drunk on it as your fingers hooked in the elastic waist.

He couldn’t help his smirk, his hand caressing your cheek and jaw as he looked down at you. He could feel two sets of eyes burning into him as he let the silence hang for a moment. You were being so perfect for him and you didn’t even know the extent of it.

“Nuh uh, not tonight,” Joel said, stooping down to press a wet kiss to your forehead. Your whine of protest made his chest puff up with pride.

He shook his head with a smirk, kneeling down on the cracked concrete again. His poor knees–he would certainly regret the entire escapade tomorrow. Really, he wanted to get you up on his lap and have you ride him until you were crying–but he didn’t want to risk you seeing the neighbors. Or the neighbors seeing any more of you than the back of your head.

Grabbing you by the waist, he pulled you so your entire ass was hanging off the porch swing. The only thing keeping you from falling was his hands and your legs hooking around him for some stability. You were already grabbing at him, fingers twisting in the shirt he still wore. “Want me to fuck you?”

“Uh huh,” you panted desperately, nodding with a frantic look in your eye. “Please, Joel.”

He smiled, pushing his sweatpants down around his thighs and taking his cock into his hand. You moaned as he rubbed the tip of it along the seam of your pussy and pressed it against your clit.

“Fuck,” you whimpered as the blunt head of his cock caught, Joel filled you with a quick slot of his hips.

Your head fell back, a whine pulling from your throat as you bore down around him. He almost lost his mind right there, no matter how many times you’d had sex you still were so tight. You both stilled, panting and gripping at one another as you become acquainted, blinking in the afternoon sun.

“God, I love this pussy,” Joel grunted, trying to talk you through it as he started thrusting gently. No matter how quiet he was in his normal life, as soon as he felt you squeezing around his cock he started running his mouth. The hinges of the swing creaked a little as it moved back and forth, his hands anchored to your hips.

He took you slow, wanting to savor the moment as much as possible. Bitten down grunts and grit teeth were met with your sweet mewls and dulcet moans as he split you apart. One of your hands reached for his, your fingers lacing with his before he pressed your knuckles onto the cushion of the swing. “Wanna hold my hand, sweet girl?” he asked, voice borderline condescending as he did.

You nodded pathetically, gasping every time he rutted inside of you. He’d reduced you to mush, partially formed words dying against your lips as he hit home against the spot inside you that always made your breath lock up in your chest.

“Who do you belong to?” Joel asked, squeezing your hand to get you to come back down to earth. You looked a mess, completely fucked out as you blinked slowly and took a deep breath. It took you a minute to really focus on him, your hand weakly squeezing back.

“You, Joel,” you answered, teeth scraping along your plump lower lip as you fisted the open flannel still draped around your shoulders.

He chuckled darkly, leaning down toward you as he kept up his almost machine-like pace. “Louder, be a good girl,” he murmured, pressing a wet and sloppy kiss to your throat. You clenched around him at the praise, it had always been one of your weaknesses.

“Joel, m’yours,” you gasped, words broken up by the reverb of his thrusts and the slap of his heavy balls against your ass.

He never had reason to doubt that he was who you wanted to be with, but the reassurance helped ground him. The whole week he’d been wondering if he was holding you back, if you actually wanted something else from life. But with the way you were taking his cock? The way you moaned for him? Hell, the way you looked at him was more than enough. There was no mistaking it for anything other than love.

“That’s right, you’re mine.” You shifted under him, the angle of your spine letting him hit deeper inside of you. His hand left your waist to grab the soft cheek of your ass, keeping you steady and supported. “No one else’s, right?”

“Yeah, Joel. Just yours.” The assurance was breathy, your voice faltering in your throat as you started to go rigid. You were looking up at Joel so sweetly, tears starting to glisten in your eyes as you tugged against the fabric of his flannel that you wore on the porch swing that he built you at his house. He had a mean possessive streak, but look at you–so happy to be his.

He lost himself. He worked on pure instinct, pistoning into you as he became blind with the desire to pin you down and fill you. You whined as he slammed into you, his sweaty forehead pressing against your sternum and his hands gripping you tight. He could feel you draw up like a spring beneath him.

You lurched on a wail, your cunt clenching around him so tightly that it almost hurt as you came. Joel moaned in sympathy with you, greedily taking in every expression you made beneath him. You whimpered and mumbled unintelligibly, your grip tightening around the hand you still clasped as your limbs locked up.

Joel lost all semblance of coordination and control, hitching up one of your thighs and driving himself deep into you. Instinct dictated his every move, overriding common sense as he grunted above you like an animal.

He thought his jaw would crack in half from how hard he was clenching it, mumbling nonsense to you through his teeth. There was a lurch deep in his stomach, his abdomen starting to flex as he fell out of his rhythm. It was only a moment more before it felt like his skin was too tight and everything was too hot and he was spilling inside you while groaning your name.

You were so full that you were leaking around him, come dripping down his balls and splattering on the concrete. Both of you were shaking, breathing each other’s air as your foreheads pressed together. Love filled your expression, making him smile tiredly.

You felt for him, your fingertips caressing his jaw as you brought him in for a gentle kiss. You always brought him back, reminded him to be soft with you when he nearly forgot. His tongue licked into your mouth for a moment before he ducked his head and lazily sucked at your breasts, his hips grinding against yours. You both hissed.

“Want me to run a bath for us?” he asked, his voice thick as he mouthed at the skin of your sternum.

“Yeah,” you whispered, nodding weakly as your fingers skated up from his beard to curl into his hair. It was sweaty at the nape, curling more violently than before.

He hummed good-naturedly, pulling out of you with a groan before tucking himself back away in his sweatpants. Joel looked down at the mess he made of you, his come already running down the crack of your ass and dripping onto the concrete. He moaned at the sight, even the shitty porn magazines he’d found on supply runs didn’t compare to this.

He helped you back into your shorts, a fist closing your flannel around your chest as you both shakily stood. You were like a newborn fawn, knees knocking together as you leaned into Joel’s chest. He chuckled breathily, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and holding you close. A soft I love you was whispered against your temple, a gentle reply following from you.

Joel glanced over the fence as he walked you to the sliding glass door, a proud glint in his eye as he met the shocked stares of your new neighbors. He winked at them, squeezing you tighter before bringing you inside with him.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fic #tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us x reader #the last of us #my first request!!

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awakenedevildays · 5 months

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「take-out and matches」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

you can read the other parts here!

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currently thinking of Art watching his latest match on tv to see the mistakes he has done and how he can improve: he is sitting with his bare back comfortably resting against the cushion of the couch, arms crossed against his chest and legs slightly spread and if it wasn't for his eyes fixed on the TV, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips forming a thin line you wouldn't have never guessed he was so focused.

You are watching him from the door of the living room with his shirt on and slighlty disheveled hair tucked behind your ears, your lips curled into a smile while the fingers of your right hand unconsciously go to play with the engagement ring on the left one. Your eyes follow your own movements for a few seconds before hearing a soft rustle against the fabric of the couch that brings you to look at your fiancé again, he is still looking the tv but his lips are shaped into a small smile and his arms are uncrossed, one tapping against his thigh repeatedly and the other is laid out on the cushions for you to take. You swiftly pad towards him and take his left hand in yours, letting him help you climb on his lap like it's the hardest thing you have to do; he kisses your hand before letting you unwrap yours from his to let you hug his neck with both arms, your head falling in between them and against his throat while he caress your thighs with both hands, your chests pressed together and your legs on both sides of him.

You both stay silent for a few minutes, the tennis ball being hit over and over and the claps of the people on the tv were the only sounds you could hear along with the gentle breathing of Art under you.

“You did great today” you mumble against his throat before kissing it.

“Only because you were there” he replies, his hands moving in up and down motions on your legs “didn’t feel like losing in front of you” you smile and lean back to look at him.

“You would have been great even then” he finally tears away his eyes from the tv and looks at you, eyes softening seeing your messy hair and droopy eyes caused by the two hours nap you two had.

“I think you're slightly biased” he teases and, while you reach behind you to take the remote from the table in front of the couch, his hands wraps around your middle to prevent you from falling.

You pause the match “I’m just honest, the fact that I’m your fiancée doesn’t have anything to do with my opinion about your game” you turn back to him and comb his blond hair with your fingers.

“Sure it doesn’t” he sarcastically mumbles while his head drops against your chest in a relaxed way, his arms squeezing around you even tighter making your back arch and chest press more against his face.

“What do you want to eat? I was thinking we could stay here and order takeaway” your fingers massage the nape of his neck and head.

“Hamburger sounds nice” he mutters sleepily and you chuckle.

“You'll have to keep this from your nutritionist” a groan came out of his mouth and a mumbled ‘let’s not talk about my job anymore’ vibrates in your chest.

“I'll have to find a way to burn the calories quickly though, any idea?" He playfully bites your neck, you shudder taking his face between your hands “i might have a few...” and start to kiss all his face except his lips while he sits there with his eyes semi-closed, his head nuzzles the palm of your left hand.

“You’re so pretty” he whispers “i really want to kiss you right now” goosebumps takes all over your body and your heart misses a beat, he knows what effect this phrase has on you… it was the same one he said your first date.

For a moment you went back to 7 years before in your college days: when you were pressed between the passenger door of his car and his body after a walk on the beach, his jacket wrapped around your shoulders and your high-heels in one of his hands while the other had your fingers tangled together, and he whispered the same phrase that made your heart jump and goosebumps rise in the same way it did now.

“Please do” and he does.

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#this is probably my first and last fic lol #it's so bad but I needed some fluff for him #hope you guys like it anyway #THIS is the love he deserved #I love him #tashi who?#never heard of her #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fluff #challengers fic #please do not repost #k bye <3

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leejenowrld · 9 months

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lee jeno boyfriend texts

genre smut

note the relationship portrayed here is from my one shot (my first and last which u should read if u haven't yet) but these texts can be read as a stand alone, with no context of my one shot

text 1 - text 2 - text 3 - text 4 - text 5

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littlegayteaboy · 23 days

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it's here!!!

my fic for @zukkabigbang2024!!!!

thank you so much to @syciaralynx for beta'ing and to @umossu for making the wonderful art for this!!

#zukkabb24 #my first fic!!!!!#very excited #(except for a oneshot from when i was like. idk 15/16? i don't remember)#zukka #zuko #sokka #avatar #avatar the last airbender #atla #atla fanfic #zukka fanfic #fanfiction

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choccy-milky · 6 months

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clora and seb with @siboom777 's MC, sally🥰 i love that she's a toymaker (even if some of them do turn out a little weird 👀 ignore my seb, he just doesnt understand ✨art✨)

#i want that cursed raven plush irl #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #sebastian sallow #i was also gonna draw a comic of them meeting for the first time and clora noticing that theyre alliteration allies #cuz sallys last name is salamander so its sally salamander. clora woulda clocked that immediately LMAO #but the alliteration allies is an inside joke to my fic so i didnt #BUT JUST KNOW THAT CLORA IS THINKING IT #AND ITS ANOTHER REASON WHY CLORA WOULD LIKE SALLY SO MUCH LMAOO #choccyart #sally salamander #clora clemons+sebastian sallow and sally salamander+ sebastian sallow....alliteration couples are best couples

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cintipede · 4 months

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Martin Blackwood's terrible, no good, very bad 19th november (iteration #67)

fanart based on @formiana 's time loop fic! go check it out its incredible

#hi. ive been obsessed with this fic for about a year. if you couldnt tell #its a very gripping story with incredible writing both funny AND emotional & tense w/ such good characterization! and it means a lot to me #i followed this fic from its first chapter to the last and it gave me something to look forward to every other saturday i hold it very dear #SO CHECK IT OUT! its really good you guys #tma #the magnus archives #my art #martin blackwood #micheal distortion #micheal shelley #jonathan sims #magnuspod #fanart

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formosusiniquis · 2 years

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When Mike Wheeler, red faced and still faintly tear stained, asks him how he knew he liked both Steve doesn’t know how to tell him it was his sister.

Before Nancy Wheeler it had only been boys. Before Nancy Wheeler Steve had been sure he was gay and knew well enough to keep it to himself; dating around enough to earn himself a protective reputation. Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been Marcus Summers, from the baseball team, during freshman year. Steve had gone to every game, and had been forced to make up excuses about schoolwork and his other commitments when asked why he hadn’t tried out for himself. Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been Tommy Hagan. The summer between seventh and eighth grade had been very kind to Tommy, he was sunkissed and boy next door sweet, Steve had wanted to hold his hand and count the freckles across the bridge of his nose.

Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been his first love, a boy who only visited one summer, the year Steve turned ten. His name had changed every time they hung out but he’d favored E’s. Eli, Emmett, Elliott, Eric, Excalibur, Excelsior, and once for about an hour Wayne. His hair brushed his chin in pretty brown curls and his big brown eyes were always bright with excitement. He always got storm off mad when any of the other boys they’d played with that summer said he was acting like a girl, E would run off to the woods and Steve would always follow. E always came up with the best games anyway, he didn’t like playing soccer or HORSE or anything else with rules that couldn’t be bent; he preferred imagination games where they were knights or wizards. He didn’t laugh when Steve said he always liked playing house, but never wanted to be the dad because why would he want to be someone who never wanted to spend any time with his kids. E who, while insisting on being called Samwise all day, was his first kiss.

Cause he knows what Mike wants to hear. He’s seen the way Mike and Will have danced around each other since the last portal closed. He’s heard the things Mike has said to and about Will. He’s heard all about the week that Will was in the Upside Down. He’s heard all about the summer of ‘85. He’s heard all about the final off again that seems to officially mark the end of Mike and El romantically. He knows that Mike wants him to say that he’d never even thought about boys before he met Eddie. That there’s just something special about Eddie that makes him want to give up his lady killing ways. That Eddie was different. That it was okay that he was having these scary new thoughts, maybe Will was just an exception.

And Steve doesn’t know how to have that conversation. When he realized he liked both it was a relief, that maybe he could have something normal and wouldn't have to spend his life lying or hiding.

But Eddie was different. Eddie was special. Eddie was probably it for Steve which is scary in a different way that he’s not ready to touch yet -- not when it’s only been three months.

There’s never been another girl since Nancy Wheeler, not really

There will never be another boy after Eddie Munson.

So he tries to help, as best he can. It’s easier with Eddie there, not quite dozing against his shoulder -- the kid’s emergencies always seem to come so late at night these days. “When I was ten, there was a boy whose name kept changing who decided prince charming should get to kiss his faithful knight. And when I was sixteen, your sister-”

Mike’s goodwill diminishes quickly as his sister gets introduced to the conversation.

“Stevie,” Eddie says. It’s not an admonishment for bringing up Nancy. It’s awestruck and watery. “You remember that?”

“Of course I remember the first boy I ever loved," that word catches up with him a second later. Remember.

Cause there's Eddie with his riot of brown curls and his Bambi eyes. Eddie, who has explained why soft feminine words chafe against his skin leaving him itchy and anxious. Eddie, who has an Uncle in Hawkins. Eddie who moved to town the summer before he entered high school with a buzzed head and his mother's last name. Eddie who finally settled into an E he liked best.

"Wheeler, here's a tip from me to you," Eddie says, his advice is always better received than Steve's anyway, "if you have to ask you probably already know."

"Straight people don't really spend much time wondering if they aren't really straight," Steve agrees.

They don't rush Mike out the door, a crisis is a crisis and even in the wake of new discoveries Mike deserves to be heard out. Deserves a chance to cry and rage and feel those emotions someplace safe from his Reaganite father -- just as much as Will deserves to have someone who knows what they want come to him, deserves better than experimentation.

They cross the bridge from late into early by the time Mike sets off. The sun is creeping up over the horizon and Mike looks solid, certain; the dawn hints at the man he is growing up to be. Though every instinct of Steve's begs him to drive the kid home, Eddie's soft hand lingering at his hip holds him fast. They wave instead, encouraging Mike to go home and to bed before he does anything; knowing his front bike tire is already pointed toward the Byers-Hopper place.

"The first boy you ever loved, huh, Stevie?" Eddie teases before the door has even managed to click shut.

"And the last, I'm hoping, if I play my cards right."

"You were always pretty good at that. You were the only person that summer who called me by my name, except Wayne."

"It was your name." He knows that's too simple. Knows how hard Eddie has had it, continues to have it. But that summer it had been that simple, Eddie trying on names like shirts each one fitting until they didn't. "For what it's worth, I like Eddie a lot more than Excalibur."

"Oh fuck off, I was going through a fantasy knight phase. Which I know you remember."

"Right a phase, and how much longer is this fantasy 'phase' going to last?"

They're the kind of tired that makes you feel drunk, when Eddie tackles Steve and sends them both to the floor and to giggles. Eddie might not have been his bi awakening, but Steve is pretty fine with him being his everything else.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #trans eddie munson #implied byler #steddie fic #my fic #i do worry that sometimes i come across as a nancy hater #which i cant emphasize enough is not the case #nancy is a complicated character and i love her and she and steve are not good for each other #also eddie trying on wayne because wayne was the first adult he told that he wasnt a girl and who handled it well #wayne at the breakfast table like okay then what is your name if its not [redacted] and eddie does not have an answer yet #so wayne says well just tell me when you get up what youre going by #so he decides while playing that day that its wayne #and that lasts exactly as long as it takes for steve to call him that before hes like nope thats weird #eddie is short for edmund but also short for eddie the head #eddie contains multitudes

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