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javierpena-inatacvest · 27 days ago

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Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officer

Summary: After Javi brings home a pair of handcuffs from work, your plans for the night start to look very different.

Word Count: 7.2K (she got away from me real fast)

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v (It's implied that Javi got the snip, we're good y'all), oral (f and m receiving), face fucking, sex toys, roleplay (kind of? Javi's got access to handcuffs and you're giving him enough attitude to bring out the brat tamer in him 😵‍💫), rough sex, creampie, edging/orgasm denial, overstimulation, dom!javi (but still the same sweet, soft Javi that we all know and love who loves his wife), a sprinkle of a breeding kink (because it's trademark at this point), heavy on the praise kink, sexting, safe word/consent (hawt), spanking (not that hard), one AFFECTIONATE use of slut!, Javi is our aftercare king (are we surprised? no.) Javi's mouth is so filthy I'm washing my own out with soap, I'm not gonna lie to y'all, this is NASTY and I don't think I've ever put this many warnings for something lmao (also, still fluff and dad!Javi because I say so)

A/N: ....... Soooooooo, yeahhhhhhhh. This is hands down the filthiest thing I've ever written 🤠 Steppin' a little out of my normal comfort zone for this one- idk what's in the water this month, but I think someone may have to come put me out to pasture pretty soon!!!! Checking myself into horny prison with a life sentence!!!!! I hope you guys enjoy, I know it's different than the norm, but lemme know what you think 🥺 Thanks for supporting me through my horny endeavors, ily all!!!

The days of chasing down bad guys and capturing criminals were a thing of the past for Javier Peña- at this point, the closet he'd come to his past life in Columbia in his position at the Laredo Sheriff's Department was using every ounce of patience he had to deal with his knuckle headed co-workers whenever they did something stupid.

While the job title "Border Protections Consultant" provided Javi with a much quieter and calmer life than working as a DEA agent, when his daughters had asked him to come in for Career Day, their classmates were convinced that he might as well have been straight out of "Men in Black."

Unfortunately for the other parents who had decided to show, Javi's appearance had out shadowed any of the other jobs after his daughters classes had learned he worked for the Police Department to help catch "bad guys" (even if the better part of the class had decided to ignore the fact he wasn't the one physically going out to stop them).

After showing off some cool accessories he had brought with him from the department and sharing some watered down, age appropriate stories to make his presentation more interesting, the Peña girls were the talk of the town at Alma Pierce Elementary, riding the high of being dubbed "The Kids With the Coolest Dad" by everyone in their class, especially after he signed them out early with promises of slushies before heading home.

So when Javi and the girls arrived back to the house, it was no shock to you that your daughters were still beaming with excitement about their dad's celebrity appearance.

"Mommy, Mommy!" Lucy, your oldest squealed as she burst through the door, dropping her backpack with a thud to greet you in the kitchen, "Dad had the best job at all of Career Day. All the kids in my class said he was the coolest one."

"Oh was he now?" You smirked, watching as Javi and your other two daughters, Elliot and Harper, trailed behind Lucy, equally beaming with excitement.

"Yeah! That's what all the kids in my class said too!" Elliot exclaimed, plopping herself down next to her sister at one of the barstools at your kitchen island.

"Me too!" Harper added, finding her usual spot next to her sisters.

"Looks like someone's reached celebrity status." You giggled, playfully raising your eyebrows at Javi as he came to greet you, wrapping one arm around your waist while the other dropped his work bag on the countertop, pulling you closer for a kiss.

"What's a celebrity?" Harper asked, staring at her sisters in confusion.

"Someone who's like, really famous." Lucy answered, Elliot nodding adamantly in agreement that her dad was, in fact, their elementary school's newest celebrity.

"So I take it the presentation went well then?" You asked, shrugging at Javi, trying not to blush with pride from his daughter's admiration.

"Guess so." Javi replied, shedding his suit jacket and tossing it next to his bag, loosening his tie and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows before reaching in one of your cabinets to grab a glass of water.

"Dad told our class about how he helps catch bad guys and put them in jail, for like, forever."

"And he told everyone about how a long time ago, before he was old, that he used to go run through the streets and catch people and put them in handcuffs!"

"He even brought in handcuffs for everyone to see!"

The last comment most definitely caught your attention, crossing your arms over your chest and tilting your head at Javi, trying your best to keep from letting a suspicious smirk spread across your face.

"Oh? Daddy brought handcuffs? Daddy doesn't normally use handcuffs at his job. I wish I would have gotten to see them."

While your girls would have never noticed anything unusual about your question, Javi was nearly choking on the sip of water he had just taken, very clearly understanding the implications of what you had just asked, coughing a few times as he tried to compose himself.

"Are you okay, Daddy?" Harper asked, looking at Javi with concern.

"Yeah, I'm- I'm good, baby. Just didn't know Mommy wanted to um- wanted to see my handcuffs so badly." Javi stammered, glancing over at you with a devilish look in his eyes.

"You should show her! They're really cool, Mom!" Lucy proposed, her sisters nodding along in agreement, blissfully unaware of the tension rapidly thickening between you and Javi.

"Um- y-yeah, maybe later, Lu." Javi stuttered, still keeping eye contact with you as he answered his daughter, "Why don't you guys um- why don't you guys go play outside for a little bit."

"Really?! Before homework?!" Elliot squealed in surprise and delight.

"Yeah, go- go play. Mom and I will come get you guys in a few."

Javi could barely finish his sentence before your girls were sprinting to the backyard, leaving you and your husband alone in the kitchen in a silent stare down until the backdoor was shut behind them.

"Man, you must reallllyy wanna show me those handcuffs, Javi." You cooed, tongue darting out of your mouth as you bit down on your lip, getting a kick out of how rattled one little comment had made him.

"You better be careful with that shit, Hermosa." Javi groaned, stepping towards you, hands sliding down your back until they were groping your ass, slowly kneading the soft flesh in his hands.

"Yeah? Or what? You gonna use them on me?" You mewled, whispering in Javi's ear, the hot breath of your words making him audibly moan, taking a deep inhale and exhale to try and keep from busting right then and there.

"Jesus fucking christ- If you're gonna keep teasing me like this, then maybe I fucking should." Javi sighed, pulling you closer to feel the bulge hardening in his slacks, pressed against your thigh.

"Is that a threat, or a promise, Officer?"

At this point, you knew you were playing dirty, but you couldn't help hit, sultry smile spread across your lips at the way Javi's jaw had gone slack, practically hitting the floor in horny disbelief that your night was about to take such drastic turn.

"Depends, has sido una chica mala (have you been a bad girl)?" Javi hummed, voice rumbling deep in his chest as his grip around you tightened, eyes growing dark with lust, watching you play innocent, batting your lashes up at him.

"Para ti? Si. (For you? Yes.)"

Letting out a low, quite laugh, Javi shook his head before reaching one of his hands up, wrapping his fingers around your jaw and top half of your neck, forcing your gaze up at him and his smug snarl.

"Then it's a promise." He paused, the two of you staring at each other with a silent thrill of excitement pulsing through your veins. "Go pack the girl's bags, I'm dropping them off at my Dad's."

"Javi, are you sure? It's a Friday night, we can't just drop them at your dad's like this last minute. What if he-"

"Talked to him earlier this week. I know he's not busy. Even if he was, he'd drop whatever it was to have a sleepover with the girls. Like I really need to twist his arm to watch them."

"Okay, well what are we gonna tell him when he asks why we're dropping them off unplanned?" You retorted, knowing Javi wasn't wrong, but feeling bad for springing your girls unsuspectingly onto your father-in-law.

"That it's an emergency." Javi shrugged, his mouth working faster than his brain to find an answer to your question.

"Being horny isn't an emergency, Jav." You sighed, rolling your eyes at your husband.

"I'll figure something out. And if you keep talking like that to me, it most definitely is an emergency." Javi smirked, gaze of his reassuring, sweet brown eyes winning you over with ease.

"Okay. Go call your dad, I'll get the girls ready." You grinned, anticipation bursting at your seams as Javi raced to the back door, throwing it open to yell out to your daughters.

"Pollitas (little chickens)! Come inside, we're going to Abuelo's!"

The two of you were convinced you'd never worked faster to get your daughters out the door, frantically throwing together their sleepover bags with their help before Javi was nearly tossing them into his truck, the girls none the wiser and happy as could be to have a surprise sleepover with Chucho.

"Thanks again for watchin' em, Pops. We'll come pick them up in the morning." Javi nodded, giving his dad a quick hug after dropping off Lucy, Elliot and Harper, who had blessed him with a short and sweet goodbye as they rushed off to the barn to go feed the horses, leaving Javi to part ways with his dad.

"Of course, hijo. You know I love having mis nietas (my granddaughters) here, even when it's a surprise. I must have missed it on the phone, but what was so urgent? Not that I'm complaining." Chucho asked, resting his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans, patiently waiting for his son's response.

"It um- something uh- something came up, and I-" Javi stammered, face turning bright red as his eyes darted towards the ground, trying to come up with some sort of bold faced lie off the top of his head before his dad cut him off.

"I thought I done getting grandkids?" Chucho smirked, relishing in Javi's uncomfortability, having a sneaking suspicion exactly why his son had made such a quick and urgent request.

"Jesus, Dad..." Javi sighed, burying his face in his hands to try and hide his embarrassment, not confirming or denying his father's acquisitions.

"Makes me happy to know you two are still very much in love." Chucho chuckled, patting his son on the back.

"Okay, I'm gonna go now," Javi huffed, scrunching his face in shame, giving his dad one more awkward hug before trotting back to his truck, "Thanks, Pops."

"Don't mention it, Javier. Take your time tomorrow. Tell your wonderful wife I say hello and that I hope the two of you have a fun night toget-"

"Jesus Christ... Bye, dad." Javi groaned, climbing into the driver's seat of his truck, slamming the door behind him as Chucho disappeared into the house, giddily laughing to himself.

Meanwhile, while Javi was busy dropping off the girls (insisting that you didn't come, because he'd have zero self control if you did), you had decided to go digging through the back of your underwear drawer, looking to find something to surprise Javi with when he returned home.

You pulled out a few choices, tossing them onto your bed to browse through before finding a black, lacy set you had almost forgotten about- the delicate, barely there, see through lace of the bra paired with the equally as skimpy thong seeming like an ideal option for the night ahead of you.

If you weren't already thrumming with enough anticipation as you changed into your new attire, your phone lit up on your nightstand, buzzing as Javi's name popped up on the screen.

Javi: Leaving Pops. Be back in 20.

You stared up at the clock, quietly calculating Javi's arrival time before you were interrupted by another vibration.

Javi: Wait on the bed for me. Don't touch yourself until I'm back.

You could almost hear Javi's voice, commanding you with just enough sternness, but not enough to stop you from pushing the limits just a little.

Grabbing your phone, you opened up your camera, dropping to your knees in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, seductively posing to tease just enough of your surprise to get Javi home to you in 12 minutes instead of 20.

You: Yeah? And what if I do? 😉

You smirked as you sent your text and picture, giggling to yourself at Javi's near immediate response.

Javi: Fuck me. You're so fucking sexy.

Javi: Your pussy's all mine tonight. Be a good girl and do what you're told. Bad girls get punished.

You: Maybe I wanna be punished 😏

Javi: Careful what you wish for baby. See u soon.

You could already feel your stomach swelling with arousal, your text messages alone beginning to soak a damp patch into the lace of your thong, making the fabric clinging around your swollen and puffy pussy, leaving you with a throbbing ache between your legs.

You wandered over to your nightstand, searching around the back, just like you had done with your dresser, looking through the few toys kept there. It had been a while since any of them had made an appearance in your bedroom, not because you or Javi were opposed to it, but because with how religiously Javi wanted to be the one who made you feel good, it wasn't often they were going to use unless you were uncontrollably horny and Javi wasn't home.

And even though at this point he'd be home in 15 minutes, right now, you found yourself in both of those categories, the added layer of seeing if he'd make good on his threat only turning you on more.

With the way your clit was throbbing and cunt clenching around nothing, you opted for your rabbit vibrator, climbing into bed with the toy as you settled yourself into the pillows, lying on your back and spreading your legs to try and ease the ache between them.

You ran the head of the toy over the soaked fabric of your panties a few times before pulling the damp lace to the side, shuttering as it brushed against your clit. With how wet you were from want, you easily slid the tip of the toy into your entrance, sinking it deeper into your pussy until the smaller end was hitting against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You whimpered at the sensation- still feeling no where near as good as what Javi would, but finally easing the fluttering of your pussy and throbbing of your clit was enough to give you temporary relief for now.

You thanked whatever lucky stars were out there in the universe that your vibrator had battery power left, clicking it on to feel the low hum shoot through your lower half, making you squirm against the sheets.

You lazily dragged the vibrator in and out of your heat, just enough to prod against your g-spot without leaving your clit untouched, imagining Javi's length thrusting in and out of you while the worn pads of his fingers circled your throbbing nub, whispering filthy, sweet nothings into your ear as he fucked you.

"That's it, pretty girl. Make yourself feel good. So fucking wet, making such a mess for me."

You threw your head back on the pillow, clamping your eyes shut as you let the scene continue you to play out in your head, turning up the intensity of your vibrator as you rocked it faster and deeper into your cunt.

"You're taking it so well, baby. My good girl. There you go. Pretty little pussy wants to cum so bad, huh? Greedy thing couldn't wait for me to take care of her like I asked?"

You were so caught up in your own pleasure that you could have sworn you'd heard Javi speaking to you. Too lost in your imagination, you didn't stop, feeling your orgasm beginning to creep through your body. So lost, that you didn't hear the heavy footsteps padding their way to the edge of the bed or broad body looming over you.

"Just couldn't wait until I got back, huh?"

Your eyes shot open, the all too familiar low and sultry laugh much too real for you to have imagined, looking up to see Javi standing over you, hands on his hips as he watched you fuck yourself on your vibrator.

"Javi! J-jesus, baby. You scared the shit outta me." You huffed, trying to catch your breath as you scrambled to turn off your vibrator, whining at the loss as you pulled the soaking toy out of you, sitting up straighter on the bed.

"Wouldn't have scared the shit out of you if you did what you were told." Javi tutted, smirking to himself, "You gonna be a good girl and do what you're told, or am I gonna have to teach my pretty little wife a lesson about following directions?"

Before you could say anything, Javi was grabbing you by the hips, pulling you to the edge of the bed so your legs dangled off the mattress, letting him lean in to give you a desperate kiss, tongues and teeth clashing in a messy fight. With his hands frantically roaming your body, tracing over your lacy silhouette, he pulled away from your kiss just enough to let the words of his whisper dance against your skin.

"Donut. If it's too much. Repeat it back to me."

"Donut." You moaned, nodding your head in agreement at your safe word.

"You promise you'll tell me if it's too much? I don't wanna hurt you, amor." Javi asked, the familiar sweet and sensitive concern of your husband unveiling itself through your facade, puppy eyes locking with yours for confirmation.

"I promise. Damelo, Papi. (Give it to me, Daddy). "

As soon as your eyes locked in harmony, giving Javi your promise, the once sweet and innocent gaze had now turned to something much darker, the brown of his pupils pooling with lust, reaching behind you to grab the vibrator laying on the comforter, still covered in your slick.

Dropping to his knees, Javi parted your thighs, settling himself between them to admire the wet, puffy mess you had already made by yourself, running his fingers over the lacy fabric that had been barely covering it up, tugging it tight like a rubber band before letting it slap against your pussy, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you.

"She's crying for me, isn't she, baby? Poor thing. Trying to fuck yourself on this, wishing it was my cock, weren't you?" Javi scolded mockingly, turning on the vibrator and running it through your folds, teasing you everywhere but where you wanted to be touched.

"Y-yes. Wanna cum all around your cock, Javi." You moaned, face scrunching as he slid the toy up and down your weeping slit.

"But bad girls don't always get what they want, do they? Sometimes," He paused, slipping the toy into your hole until the longer curve was flushed to your g-spot and the shorter to your clit, "sometimes, they have to beg for what they want. You gonna be a good girl and do what I say?"

"Make me."

The words rolled off your tongue with a bratty confidence, a challenge you knew damn well he'd accept. Javi turned on the vibrator, cranking it up to it's highest setting, tongue running over his teeth as he watched your body jolt, grabbing fist fulls of your bedsheets to brace yourself.

"Oh fuck-" You muttered, swallowing hard, trying to suppress the shock of pleasure that had ignited in you as the vibrator thrummed at full force, Javi pushing it right up against the soft spongy spot inside he knew drove you wild, making sure the other part of the toy stayed nestled between your folds.

Javi could see your pussy beginning to flutter, clenching tighter around the toy as arousal began to seep out of your hole, pressing the vibrator deeper into you, only egging your impending orgasm on further.

"I know you wanna cum, baby. Ask nicely before I make you beg for it." Javi groaned, the hand not holding the vibrator now digging into your hip, holding you in place.

"N-no." You stammered, confidence wavering as you felt the tingle at the base of your spine start to spread rapidly through your body. Gripping tighter onto the tangled sheets, you felt your legs begin to tremble, cunt clamping down around the toy, about to cross the finish line until-

"Fuck! Nononono, Javi- fuck!" You cried out, whimpering as Javi yanked the vibrator from your cunt, leaving you empty and aching, the near high of your almost orgasm quickly dissipating.

"What's it gonna be, Hermosa? You gonna be good for me now?" Javi mewled, snarky smile spread between his lips watching your chest heave with heavy breaths after leaving you on the brink of collapse.

"Fuck- No. Make me, Javi." You huffed back, trying to keep cocky as if you weren't seconds away from crumbling under his touch.

Javi's response was nothing but a low laugh to himself, turning the vibrator back on high and stuffing it into your hole, fucking you with it more intensely than before. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head, jaw going slack as the feeling of the fullness and buzzing consumed you, putting you back on edge of where you just were moments ago.

The only thought you could process was how close you were cumming, cunt throbbing and pulsing around your vibrator, body trembling with need as the coil in your stomach was about to snap.

"J-Javi, Javi, I-" You stammered, trying to string together a coherent sentence.

"What, baby? You gonna cum?" Javi asked, taunting you with his tone.

You tried your best to nod your head, nearly there, thinking that Javi would give in, only to let out another wanton cry as he pulled out the vibrator again, even more desperate and empty than before.

"Fuckfuckfuck! No, fuck! Javi, no-" You sobbed, white knuckling your sheets, bucking your hips into nothing, "Javi, let me cum. I wanna- fuck- I wanna cum!"

"Brats don't get to cum, cariño." Javi tutted, tossing the vibrator to the edge of the bed, caging your body under his, teeth nipping across your skin, hands cupping your lace covered breasts, fingers slipping under the fabric to tweak your pebbled nipples while his mouth met yours. "You want it? You get on your knees and beg for it like a good girl."

"And what if I don't? What if I don't wanna listen, Agent Peña?" You retorted, staring up at him with a devilish grin, trying to egg him on enough to reach for the handcuffs he had dangling out of the back of his pants pocket.

Reaching down to snake your hand between your bodies to try and rub your clit, you were stopped in your tracks, Javi wrapping is hand firmly around your wrist, grabbing it, and your other free arm to pin both your wrists to the bed above your head in his grasp.

He paused for a moment, looking down at you for a silent confirmation that you were comfortable with what was about to happen next, both of your heart beats pounding in your ears as you gave him a subtle, but adamant nod, biting down on your bottom lip with a sultry grin.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Fuck me-" He murmured to himself, trying to keep from laughing under his breath from pure exhilarated elation, breaking his stern facade. After a brief moment of self-composure, Javi was digging in the back pocket of his slacks, pulling out the shiny, silver pair of handcuffs that had gotten you in this position in the first place. "Either you listen, or I make you fucking listen, Hermosa."

"I'm sorry, Officer, I never have been a good listener." You cooed, batting your lashes and pouting at him with the big doe eyes and plush bottom lip, watching something animalistic begin to consume him.

In a sudden and frantic dance of limbs, Javi was clipping his handcuffs around your wrists, leaving enough room to wiggle them without pain in the confines of the cool metal, but with nowhere near enough room you were breaking free from them without his help. Bringing your now locked arms from above your head to in front of your chest, Javi was manhandling you off the edge of the bed to the ground, settling you to your knees in front of him.

A feverish thrill ran through you as you watched Javi undo his belt, metal buckle clanging as he shoved his pants and boxers down his hips, his painfully hard cock springing free, slapping against his stomach and leaving a trail of precum on the bottom of his shirt.

Your mouth watered as you watched his length bob in front of you, wishing your hands were free to wrap your fingers around his base, stroking him while you lubed him up with your spit and his precum before taking him into your mouth. Instead, it was Javi running his hand along his shaft, the other reaching down to thumb at your bottom lip, coaxing your jaw to go slack for him.

"Open." He commanded, tapping the tip of his cock against your tongue as you stuck it out, the warm and salty dribble of his precum leaking into your mouth.

Javi gleamed watching as your thighs clenched together beneath you, wiggling to try and give yourself any kind of friction as your slick coated the inside of your legs. He ran his hand across your cheek, cradling the back of your head as he ran his fingers through your messy hair, grabbing a fist full near the base of your neck to yank your gaze up at him.

"Could have cum by now if weren't gonna be sucha brat, baby girl. I know you want me to fuck you so bad. You wish that I was stuffed so fucking deep inside you, huh? But you're so fucking greedy for my cock, you'll take it wherever I give it to you, won't you?" Javi huffed, nostrils flaring as you nodded your head, his tip still resting on your tongue before your lips wrapped around the head of his shaft, taking him into your mouth as your tongue ran along the length of the thick vein pulsing in his cock.

With a subtle shift of his hips, Javi was thrusting himself deeper inside your throat, making you hollow your cheeks and breath through your nose, the curls at his base filling your nostrils with his sweet and musky scent.

“So greedy, you'll let me fuck this pretty little mouth of yours, won't you?” His voice rasped, hitching in the back of his throat watching you fill with his length, "You're gonna be a good girl and let me stuff your throat so full of my cock that it'll fuck that bratty mouth right out of you, won't it, hermosa?"

His other hand met his first, cupping the back of your head while he fucked into you, hitting the back of your throat as tears welled in your eyes and drool pooled from your lips as his cock consumed your mouth. You nodded your head, looking up at him with teeth gritted and eyes darkened, his grunts and moans becoming louder with each push and pull, so demanding yet desperate at the same time.

"And after I fuck your mouth, I'm gonna fuck the brat out of you with my tongue," he paused, drawing back to slam his dick to the back of your throat, "I'm gonna fuck you with my cock," He paused again, repeating the motion, wetness dripping down your eyes and mouth from your tears and saliva, "I'm gonna fuck you 'till you're begging me to stop, because who does this pussy belong to, baby?"

Jerking back his hips, he freed his cock from your mouth, leaving you coughing as you tried to clear your throat, completed wrecked in the best way, the thick and musky tang of him still lingering on your tongue.

"It's yours, Javi. My pussy is yours, baby." You whimpered, your mask of cocky confidence now fading to reveal rampant your need and want, your pussy too painfully aching to hide it any longer.

Javi grunted, lifting you off the ground to guide you to your bed, letting your back bounce against the mattress as Javi once again settled between your thighs, slinging your legs over his broad shoulders.

You looked down to see his eyes widen as he admired the absolute wreck that had pooled between your legs, slick smearing your cunt and the inside of your thighs, pussy so swollen and shiny that you were convinced you had never been this worked up in your life without any sort of relief.

"Say it again, baby. Whose pussy is this?" Javi mewled, licking a long, flat stroke across your cunt.

"Y-yours, Javi." You moaned, bucking your hips into Javi's face, desperate for more.

"Louder, cariño. Let me hear who this pussy belongs to." The movement of his tongue repeated, this time added a few more broad strips, draping his hand across your stomach to hold you in place.

"Y-you! Oh fuck- It belongs to you, Javi! " You cried out, writhing under his touch, egging on the primal and possessive part of his brain.

"Do think you finally deserve to cum, hermosa? Poor pussy made such a fucking mess, I can feel her throbbing for me, baby." Javi taunted mockingly between licks of your cunt. "Beg for it, Osita. Beg for it like the filthy girl I know you are only for me."

There was no use in fighting it anymore, every shred of fight you had left in you had disappeared, leaving you a sobbing, whimpering mess, so dire to cum, you would have cried and plead for hours on end if that's what it would have taken for you to finally get what you wanted.

"P-please, Javi, please. Please, baby, I'll be good. Fuck- please make cum. Pleasepleasepleaseplease- Fuck!"

Your sobs were cut off as Javi dove between your legs, the slow and monotonous licks of your pussy now turning into him devouring you, sloppily eating you out like it was his last meal on earth, and he wasn't leaving a fucking crumb behind.

The way his mouth sucked and lapped at your clit had the coil in your spine that had been tightening over and over again for what felt like hours now reaching a near breaking point. Your wrists were straining against the handcuffs still clasped below your hands, writhing and thrashing under Javi's touch, wishing that you had something to grab onto to ground yourself.

"Fuck, Javi, Fuck- don't stop baby, please- ohmygod- I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-ahhhhhh!"

Your pent up orgasm crashed through you like a tsunami, every inch of your body radiating with such intense pleasure that you could feel your legs shaking around Javi's head, sobbing out with relief while you gushed arousal into his mouth, going limp with ecstasy.

But to your surprise, the sensation between your legs continued, Javi still relentlessly drinking you up, his pace unfaltering as he worked you through your high, clearly determined to make you cum again.

Latching his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, Javi sucked at your clit with a feverish intensity, fingertips gripping into your hips to keep you in place and hold you against the bed, keeping you right where he wanted you until he had you crumbling under his touch.

It wasn't long before the tingle at the base of your spine was building rapidly again, your pussy fluttering and throbbing, so sensitive from how long you had waited for release of your last orgasm that you could feel your second building just as fast as your first.

"I'm gonna- fuck- Javi, I'm gonna cum again, oh my- fuck- fuckfuckfuck!" You sobbed, limbs feeling like Jello as your next high hit you, eyes rolling to the back of your head, cumming so hard you were convinced you were seeing stars.

With your eyes scrunched shut, you hadn't seen Javi pulling away, shedding his shirt before grabbing your hips to flip you over, maneuvering you so your locked arms were outstretched in front of you and your chest pressed to the mattress, the firm grip returning to your hips to raise your ass in the air, wet and puffy pussy on display for him as he hovered at the edge of the bed behind you.

"Pussy's so fucking sweet, hermosa." Javi hummed, swiping two fingers through your folds and collecting your slick from your still trembling cunt, caging his body over yours as his other hand wrapped around your neck and jaw, pulling you up to flush your back against his chest, tacky with his sweat.

"Taste." He ordered, bringing the two shiny fingers to your lips, dipping them into your mouth while your tongue swirled around, tangy and sticky arousal filling your senses. "Think she's ready for me, baby? Or should I fuck you with my fingers until you're begging for my cock?"

"N-no, I want it, p-please, wanna cum around your cock so bad. Wanna feel you Javi, please." You whimpered, swallowing hard with Javi's palm still gently splayed around your throat.

"Okay," Javi paused, reaching down to grab the base of his shaft, coating his length with your arousal as he ran it up and down your slit until the blunt head of his tip was notching into your entrance, "but this greedy little cunt is gonna take everything I have to give her, understand?"

"Mhmmhmmm-" You nodded against his skin, whining as he sunk the rest of his length inside you, the sweet sting of his stretch setting you ablaze.

"Fuckkkk-" Javi muttered under his breath, pressing his body weight into you to force your chest back down to he bed and ass back up, running his hands over it, massaging the plump flesh before bringing a flat hand down to it, smacking it just hard enough to make you whimper.

"Dirty fucking girl. You loved getting fucked like this, don't you? Getting fucked like the pretty little slut you are just for me." Javi huffed through gritted teeth, giving your ass another smack as he dragged his cock out of your cunt before ramming it back into you.

"Mhmmmmmmhhhh- fuck- Just for- oh fuck- just for you, Javi."

He began to set a punishing pace, pounding into your g-spot, making sure that every thrust was flushed with your ass so that you took every inch of him inside you, practically punching the air out of your lungs with every stroke.

Javi felt so full inside of you, stretching you out in a way that was all consuming, the position he had you in opening you up to take as much as he could give. Your fingers tugged at the sheets, handcuffs rubbing against your wrists as you tried to brace yourself, so worked up and overwhelmed that you were nearly drooling onto the bed.

The noises coating the walls of your bedroom were unspeakably lewd- the wet squelching of your pussy, Javi's balls slapping against your ass, the wanton moans and grunts with every push and pull making your room sound borderline pornographic.

You could feel your cunt beginning to clench again, fluttering around Javi's cock as he rammed into you, your legs beginning to tremble as you could sense your third orgasm creeping through your body. With how sensitive you were, you knew the wiry hairs around the base of Javi's shaft rubbing your clit would be enough to push you over the edge again, wishing you could reach back to grab Javi's hip, digging your fingertips into his tanned and sweat-ridden skin while you came.

"Javiiiiiiii- Fuck, fuck, fuck- I'm so c-close- Don't stop, don't stop, don't, Fuck!"

With each orgasm that crashed through you, your body became more and more loose, feeling like you were melting and floating all at once, all consumed by your dizzying high while Javi's pace remained steady, fucking you through collapse.

"That's my girl. Cum all over me. Let me feel you, baby." Javi smirked, giving your ass another smack as you cried out his name, too wrecked to let any other words form in your brain besides his.

Still staying stuffed inside you, Javi was scooping his arms around your front, one splayed across your middle to keep you upright as your sat back on your knees, the other back around your neck and jaw, tilting your head to lean back on his shoulder while he sucked at your pulse point.

You were all but sobbing at this point, pathetic whimpers and moans rumbling from your chest with each deep thrust of Javi's cock only intensifying as his fingers reached down to circle your clit, so sensitive that just the presence of his hand pressing around your nerve bundle had you crying out for him.

Your face was flushed with heat, sweat beading down your temples with the warmth of Javi's chest pressed against your back, feeling your heartbeat pound so loud you could feel it in your ears.

"It's too much- fuckfuckfuck- it's too much, Javi." You whined, the pitch of your voice registering higher and higher with each word that came spilling from your mouth, starting to squirm in his grasp. Your movement only made him tighten his grip, forearm pressing into your stomach and fingers locking around your jaw as he whispered in your ear.

"Nuh uh. This is what you wanted, remember, baby?" Javi tutted, somehow feeling like he was fucking into you even deeper than before, "You're gonna take what I give you. You're gonna cum for me one more time. Cum for me one more time and then I'm gonna fill you so fucking full of me that I'm gonna leak out of you for days and make sure you remember exactly who this pussy belongs to."

The pads of his fingers pressed more firmly into your clit as they circled faster and faster, each snap of his hips crashing into your g-spot, the volume of your cries growing so loud, you had never been more thankful you didn't have any neighbors close by you were worried about hearing you.

"You're taking me so well, baby. C'mon, just one more, Hermosa. Be a good girl and give me one more. I know you can take it. Take it, take it, take it-" He groaned, chanting with each thrust with a low rumble in his throat, bearing his gritted teeth and flared nostrils as he fucked into you, knowing with the way your pussy was gripping him like a vice, you didn't need much more to get where he wanted you to go.

"Javi, Javi, Javi, Javijavijavijaviiiiii-ahhhhhh! Fuck!"

You were convinced that if Javi hadn't been holding you down, you would have floated away, cumming so hard that your vision went white, everything around you feeling like it was moving in slow motion as pleasure swept through every inch of your body, slumping into Javi, now finally chasing his own high.

"Did so good for me, baby. So fucking good." Javi praised, voice sweetening softly as he held you pressed to his chest, kissing and nipping at the damp skin on your shoulder. "Gonna fuck you so full of my cum. Bet you wish I could still knock you up, huh? Let everyone know who you belong to. Let them know that this perfect little pussy is all mine. I'm- oh fuck- I'm so fucking close. Feels so fucking good. Mierda- I love you so muc-ahhhhhhh-"

Javi's incoherent babbles were cut off by a final stutter of his hips, balls drawing up into his stomach as he spilled deep inside of you, warm ropes of his cum painting your velvety walls.

Still keeping himself stuffed inside you, you could feel the mix of your spend seeping out your spent hole and down your thighs, the dripping only exacerbated by the heavy heaving and panting of both of your chests, rising and falling in sync, so blissfully fucked out from your highs.

After a few seconds, Javi came to, pulling out of you with a hiss, reaching over the side of the bed to shuffle through his pants pockets, digging up the keys to the handcuffs and unlocking your wrists, gently kissing them where the metal had left red marks on your skin.

"Lay down, baby girl, lemme take care of you, okay?" Javi cooed, the flip of his demeanor instantly switching back to tender and soft, pressing a kiss into your messy hair as he shuffled to your ensuite, coming back with a warm washcloth to gently wipe up the mess between your legs.

"You've taken care of me plenty, Javier Peña. I don't think I'm gonna be able to walk for the next week." You giggled softy, still giving your heart rate a chance to come down to normal.

Javi tossed the washcloth into the hamper next to your bed, crawling next to you and pulling you close to lay your head on his chest, tracing dainty circles with his thumb across your skin. "Are you okay? It wasn't too much? Sorry if I got carried away or-"

"Javi! Baby, why are you apologizing?" You asked, looking up at Javi as you felt his shoulders shrug beneath you.

"I just- I don't ever wanna hurt you, Hermosa.

"If you're trying to get me to stroke your ego and tell you that you have a huge dick, then yes, you do." You teased, the two of you softly snorting while Javi rolled his eyes at you.

"Shut up, you know what I mean." Javi huffed, giving you a playful nudge.

"You take such good care of me, Jav. I know you would never mean to hurt me. Besides, I asked and you delivered. This was hot as fuck. This honestly may be a top 5 of all time." You smirked, nudging him right back.

"Yeah? God, you're so fucking sexy. We still got it after all these years, huh?" Javi smiled, pulling you closer to his chest, tickling you with kisses across your face.

"Yeah we do. Although maybe next time we get some more comfortable handcuffs. Those things do not feel good."

"Honey, they're meant to be used on actual criminals breaking the law. They're not supposed to be comfortable." Javi teased, laughing at your suggestion.

The two of you lay in silence for a moment, a peaceful and content quiet washing over you, basking in the warmth each other's bodies tangled together in a mess between your sheets.

"Do you ever miss it?"

"Miss what, Osita?"

"I don't know- having a more exciting job, getting to handcuff actual criminals, not just your wife. I just- I know that you always say how different and boring your job is now, and if you ever wanted to go back to doing something like what you used to then-" Before you could finish your thought, Javi was cutting you off with a passionate kiss, gently cradling your cheek in his palm, looking at you with those sweet brown eyes you loved so much.

"I don't ever miss it. My boring office job gave me a life where I have the most beautiful, amazing wife and daughters. There's nothing in the world that would ever make me even have a chance of giving that up. Besides..." Javi paused, sneaky smirk spread across his face.

"Besides what, Jav?"

"Using the handcuffs on you is way more fun."

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

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demonlordcosnime · 2 years ago

Video

youtube

lets play nexomon extinction part 2

#youtube #lets play #nexomon extinction #part 2 #battle #fight #funny #gameplay #gamergirl #gaming #youtube channel #cosnime #nexomon #capture #town #travel #tamers

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merakiui · 9 days ago

Text

no because skully is actually so sad when you think of him in every context (platonic, romantic, a fleeting crush, etc) because imagine meeting this guy who is in a very similar situation to you (trapped somewhere in a new world with no friends, all alone, and everyone thinks he's strange because they just don't understand him) and so he can sympathize with you and your situation. he completely gets it, and maybe you just,,, get him. maybe in a way no one has before.

over the course of this predicament, you form a fast friendship that's very meaningful to both sides. for skully, it's finally a friend who can understand him and isn't a complete idiot like his dull classmates. he finally has someone. and you finally have someone who actually pays genuine attention to you, doesn't call to the front the obvious power imbalance between you (magicless human) and a school full of talented mages. for once, you're just (name) to someone. not the magicless human or the beast tamer or the person dropped in twisted wonderland from a far, far place. you're just (name). skully sees you for you, and you see him for him. maybe that's why he comments on how similar the two of you are so often because he wants to cling to this connection. maybe he sees parts of himself in you and you see parts of yourself in him.

it's a connection that seems so real and raw and heartwarming. right place, right person, you'll both think.

but all of that is rendered meaningless when you're destined to come out of the book, having forgotten all inklings of halloween town and its residents and, most importantly, skully. the one friend who could understand you in a world where no one is able to. and now whenever you look at the portrait of the halloween king you're filled with so much sadness and longing. but why? you've never met this person before.

you never will again. even skully recognized that when it was time for everyone to leave because when he leaves the book he'll be dead, but you're still alive. the both of you are from vastly different times.

right person? definitely. but you met him at the wrong time. a little too late.

or maybe in a bittersweet way it was the right time. even if you can't remember your experiences, the both of you imprinted something special on the other. when you think of halloween, you'll think fondly of that unique portrait and a grin that seems eerily familiar. and maybe if he was still alive today he'd feel comforted every time he thinks he's alone only to feel as though someone, if only for a moment, was able to really, truly know and understand him in the ways he hoped to be known and understood.

#meraki mumbles #hi hello i am mourning him yet again

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scene-iii · 10 days ago

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OKAY WAIT. (i only have a loose idea of the tnbc event thanks to translations BUT WHAT IF)

Skully is one of the few members of Ramshackle Dorm, & during a trip to Foothill Town, he stumbles across the Nightmare Before Christmas book. He's sucked in and meets the NRC students. The story plays out and he's sent back to his time, centuries before any of his new friends are born.

He doesn't know this, of course, having forgotten everything. But there's this feeling of want in his chest, not only for a grand Halloween (a day full of life for the dead, much different from his previous ideals) but also for a friend.

He's always longed for friends, but why does his heart ache like he just lost one?

It takes some time, maybe a few weeks, as he tries to decipher his thoughts and feelings to figure out what's wrong. He spends most of his time planning the perfect Halloween to bring the holiday back onto the calendar; something more inviting, something that'll spread the joy he's recently begun to feel about the holiday.

"What gets people up and running? Hm... Perhaps music? Haunting and jaunty melodies would suffice... Why not dance as well...?!"

"Oh, I do adore a pitch-black pallet, but... There's no harm in adding color, right? It's all the rage these days anyways... Perhaps orange, to match pumpkins would be a good start?"

He's not quite sure where these ideas came from, but the ghosts of Ramshackle seem enthusiastic when he shares his thoughts. He has no one else to listen to his plans, and decides, what's the harm with talking to the ghosts? (The ghosts are pleasantly surprised at Skully's change of heart, and will do all they can to encourage this new path.)

Eventually, Skully begins to remember bits and pieces of his time in the book ("I could never forget an encounter with the lovely Jack-sama!" He says. Really, it's the idea of the friends he made that claw the event to the front of his mind).

Most of all, he remembers a magicless human. Oh, how sweet they were, even when he made some rash decisions. Among all the boys in his tale, the beast tamer was his closest companion—even if it were only for a little while.

He recounts the adventure in the book as best he can to the ghosts, seeing as no one else could believe him. A magical book that takes you far away? Who ever heard of that? The ghosts hang on his every word, laughing and gasping at the wonderous characters in Skully's story.

Halloween is a hit at NRC, and once he graduates, Skully decides to share Halloween with the rest of the world. The ghosts wave their old friend goodbye and safe travels, watching him part with spectral tears in their eyes.

The years pass, with Skully now departing from this world, and Ramshackle has fallen into ruin.

Until one day, a magicless beast tamer arrives in Twisted Wonderland, and is sent to live in Ramshackle.

The ghosts are overjoyed at having company after so long, but they can't help but be excited for a different reason.

After all, the King of Halloween's dearest friend has finally appeared.

#twst #twst yuu #twisted wonderland #twst skully #twst scully #skully j graves #ramshackle #ramshackle prefect #pen to paper #twst the nightmare before christmas

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago

Note

Dear parent who feeds us the sentient duo of Deadpool and Wolverine, can we have more crumbs dear parent🤗

As your parent I shall provide for you my child. *pats head*

⚠️This little nsfw but nothing too bad. ⚠️

Logan: new rule, I talk now. You don’t speak unless spoken to am I understood?

Reader and Wade: 👍

Logan: *walks away*

Reader to wade: is it me or did Logan get hotter when he’s taking charge. I’m getting hot under the collar just thinking about how dominating he is in bed.

Wade to Reader: I bet you he’s a brat tamer. An absolute wild best between the sheets who will give you aftercare once he’s done taking you to pound town. It’s the hottest thing a man could do as he coddled you in his arms.

Reader: I’ve got a question Logan!

Wade: ooh I wanna hear this~

Logan: shut it Wade *sighs and looks to you* what’s the question.

Reader: do your claws pop out when you finish? 🎤

Logan: what?

Wade: they said do your claws pop out when you cum? 🎤

Logan: I’m done with the both of you.

Reader: it’s a genuine question! I’ve got to prepare myself in advance if they do!

Wade: theres no shame in your claws popping out when you cum! We don’t care, it’s hot!

Reader: *hums in agreement*

Logan: SHUT THE FUCK UP! EVEYONE CAN hear YOU!

Wade and reader: love you! 🫶💕

Reader: looking effortlessly sexy and breed able today Wilson

Wade: why thank you! You look sexy yourself you sexy thing!

Logan: do either of you have any filter between the two of you?

Wade: *looks to reader*

Reader: *looks to Wade*

Reader and Wade proudly: no!

Logan: …I didn’t think so either.

*Wade and Logan covered in blood that isn’t theirs*

Reader: this is how god should’ve made men, bloody, pathetic and whimpering.

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mountainsandmayhem · 8 months ago

Text

Shhh...Just A Little Bit More

DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader

18+ MDNI

Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three (Soft Version) || Part Three (Spicy Version)

Summary: Joel catches you somewhere you shouldn't be, twice. CW: all p no plot! age gap, spanking, dirty talk, parental guilt, brat and brat tamer, sub/dom dynamics, edging and degradation kinks if you squint AN: I found the bottom right photo on Pinterest and @mermaidgirl30 said it screamed DBF!Joel. I have never written for DBF before so please be kind. Dividers by @saradika-graphics - thank you for all your amazing graphics and dividers, I'd be lost without your page.

“Let go of me, you fucking psycho!” You’re practically yelling over the music of the club, wrenching your arm from Joel’s strong grasp. The security guard approaches and Joel shoots him a glare so dark that he holds his hands up and steps back. “What the fuck, Joel?”

“What are ya doin’ here, sweetheart” he demands, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m working!” You stomp your foot and then get right up in his face, pointing a finger at him. Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, hanging out in a strip club one town over. “The real question is, what are YOU doin here?”

You’re only a bottle girl, you don’t get on the stage and have no intentions of stripping. It’s good money, great money actually. At 22 you’re already well on your way to having a down payment on a condo, it’s just too bad you’re having to lie to your parents.

“With my crew, they picked the place. I’m takin’ you home. Go get your coat.” He crosses his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The music is pounding in your ears, the air thick with smoke. Even in the dimly lit hallway you can see the way Joel’s eyes rake over your body, taking in the very tiny Jean shorts and bralette you’re wearing.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spin and flip him the bird as you walk away. You know he’s staring so you give a little extra wiggle of your ass as you walk away. Joel Miller, staring at your ass. The fourteen year old inside you does a happy dance - that version of yourself had a tiny crush on him. Too bad he’s a stuffy, grumpy asshole now. You miss the fun, young Joel. He used to do cannonballs in the pool with you and his daughter Sarah. She was a few years older than you, but he was much more fun than your father. But now? Now he’s a certified prick. Thinking he can drag you away like some sort of barbaric caveman. He’s not your dad, even if he was, you’re an adult.

When you finish your shift you head outside and pull up your Uber app, men often want to do shots with you so even though you never get drunk at work you also don’t drive there.

See, Joel. I’m responsible.

“Let’s go,” his voice is deep, still angry with you. You didn’t see him waiting by the door so you jump.

“Jesus. You fucking scared me.”

“Watch your language. Get in the truck.”

You grumble under your breath that he should kiss your ass as he holds the door open for you. He stalks around to his side of the truck while furrowing his brow and shaking his head.

“Got somethin’ to say young lady?”

“Ya,” you say, slumping in the seat and putting your white vans on his dashboard, “kiss my ass.”

He presses his lips in a thin line, you can see him eyeing your long toned legs from your peripheral vision before the engine roars to life and he speeds off down the gravel highway.

When you pull up to the house he hops out of the truck and is right on your heels as you open the door.

“I’m fine, Mister Miller.” You say with a sneer. You know he hates that, he has told everyone he’s ever been introduced to to call him Joel.

Joel steps into your parents house and calls your dad’s name. “What the fuck! Joel! Shut up!”

He calls for him again and your dad comes stumbling from his room, tying his robe around his sleeping attire. “Joel? What’s going on?” He flicks on the light, squinting against the brightness. “It’s 3 in the morning.”

“Just thought I’d let you now know that the guys at work wanted to go to The Skin tonight. Caught your daughter working there.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?!” You yell, pushing at his broad chest. Your dad stands there stunned. Eyes wide and mouth agape. He thought you were working as a nurses aide overnight at the hospital on weekends. He’s even seen you leave the house in scrubs. All a part of the web of lies you have weaved.

“Don’t speak to Joel that way,” your dad snaps. “Go to your room young lady. We’ll talk about this later.”

“Kiss my ass, cowboy.” You practically spit at him as you stomp to your room. As you round the corner your mom is standing in the hallway clutching her crucifix necklace. You have a sudden urge to hiss at her with the way she’s looking at you, like you’re a disappointment. A sinner, the worst kind of person in her eyes.

The next morning was the fight of all fights with your parents. Your dad tried to ground you, your mom started shoving church pamphlets at you. They wouldn’t even fucking listen.

“IM NOT A STRIPPER,” you yelled at them over and over again.

Finally, when the yelling ceased, your dad said in a very quiet anger, “young lady. I FORBID you from going there again. Is that clear? I don’t care if you’re 22 or 42, if you live under my roof, you live by my rules. You’re going to go to continue going to your university classes during the week, and on weekends you will be home. Studying. Helping your mother with the chores. You will go to bed at respectable hour. If you need money, you ask us. Is that clear?”

You blink back tears and head to your room, slamming the door behind you. You are NOT quitting that job.

When the next weekend rolls around you say goodnight to your parents at 10pm and head to your room. You worked it out with your boss to work the midnight to 4 am shift. So you wait - ear pressed to your door until you finally hear your parents go to bed. You sneak out the same way you’ve been sneaking out for years and run down the street with your newly embroidered denim shorts in hand to meet your Uber.

You peel yourself away from the men and the booze around 2am to get some fresh air, exiting through the back to the dimly lit alley. You take a big inhale through your nose before you see it. The truck. Joel’s truck. And Joel. Leaning against the truck box, arms crossed, one foot up on the tire.

You flip him off and then turn back towards the back entrance to the club. He’s on you so fast, grabbing the back of your bicep in his large hand. “You little brat. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Read the shorts, MISTER Miller.” You say it as much venom as you can muster.

His eyes rake down your body and you can almost feel them burning into you. It feels so good, you never want him to stop. Your pussy throbbed when he called you a brat and you wouldn’t be surprised if your light jean shorts hadn’t been soaked through already. When his eyes reach the pocket he sees ��Kiss My Ass, Cowboy’ stitched in baby pink lettering and his grip tightens.

He’s fucking furious with you. Furious that you’re here. Furious that other men get to see you dressed like this. Furious that he wants you so fucking badly. But mostly, furious because he knows you want him too and he’s a weak weak man when it comes to pretty little things like you. He yanks you back against his body and you let out a pained moan.

“Don’t make me punish you,” he says coldly in your ear and you fight to stop your knees from buckling.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say breathlessly.

Joel’s lips graze against the shell of your ear, hand gripping so tightly that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “So that’s what you want? You want me to punish you? Put you in your place? Huh?”

You grind your ass back against him, “you would dare, Joel.”

His other hand clamps down on your hip as he steers you to his truck, walking you around so no one can see the two of you. He opens the back door and pushes you forward until your legs are against the cold steel frame of the vehicle. “You don’t get to call me that. You call me Mr Miller from now on. Understood?”

“Go fuck yourself, Joel,” you emphasize every vowel of his name, digging deeper. Pushing him. Pushing to see how far he’ll go. You get off on being a brat, and by the way his hard cock is pressing into your ass, he does too.

He unbottons your shorts then lifts you slightly and pushes your upper body down onto the seat, the truck is high enough that your feet are dangling, ass stuck out for him. “Look at these slutty little shorts.” He tugs on the hem, your shorts now sitting just above your knees. Your pert ass is exposed to Joel and the night air. He tuts at the sight of you, “No panties. Little fuckin’ tease.”

You whimper at his words, slick starting to coat your thighs. “You’re the one standing back there doing nothing.” You taunt.

The cool night air spreads goosebumps across your skin, your clit twitches in anticipation of his touch. Other men have fucked you hard to get you to shut your mouth. And finally, FINALLY, you’re going to get fucked by Joel Miller. However, you grossly underestimated the different between the boys were with before and the man behind you now.

His hand strikes your cheek hard and you let out a loud pained yell. “What the fuck, Joel!”

“If you’re gonna be a brat,” his hand lands on your ass again, “you’re going to get a spanking.” His voice is harsh and rough as he hits you a third time. The sound of his skin on yours echoing through the cab of his truck. He hits you again, not caring about your cries of protest.

You’ve never been spanked before and you’re thrown by your bodies reaction to it. At first you were shocked, then humiliated and then the pain and heat travelled to the base of your spine and you found yourself starting to get turned on. Arousal pools in your belly with each strike of his palm and when your pussy throbs the humiliation starts to creep back in. Are you supposed to be enjoying this so much, is this what Joel wants?

You bend your knees up, trying to make space between your bodies. One of his strong hands wraps around your ankles, pinning them to the back of your thighs as he spanks you again.

“Stop! I’m sorry. I’ll - “ he strikes you again, harder than the last few times and there’s no more pain, every slap is full of pleasure. You let out a deep moan, your pussy practically gushing onto the leather seats. “Oh fuuuuck.”

Now that it’s turning you on it almost eggs Joel on. “Put your hands out in front of you,” he commands. Your arms shoot out, stretching them across the seat above your head. “Such a needy little slut. You’re drippin’ all over my fucking seat, baby girl.” He strikes you again and your arms flinch. “Keep them there.”

Your ass is starting to get pink, his splotchy handprints covering it. The world around him starts to fade, all that he can see is you and your ass - and he wants to make it hurt. Then he wants to make it good. So very good.

His strikes keep coming, he’s like a man possessed. “Stop, Joel. Please.”

He drops your ankles, then uses his hand to spread your thighs apart, the denim biting into your knees. “Shhh…just a little bit more. Look at this messy pussy. You don’t want me to stop.”

He hits you again and you start to hate how much he’s right. You don’t want him to stop, you’re on the verge of coming and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re sure the second he’s near your clit you’ll explode.

Both of your cheeks are glowing red and Joel finally stops. You’ve both lost track of how many times he’s hit you. His large palm rubs the marks. You know you should keep your mouth shut, but fuck do you love to rile him up.

“Are you done now? I have work to get back to.”

Joel growls behind you. You hear the sound of his belt undoing, the leather whipping out from the demin loops. “I’m sick of your goddamn mouth, baby girl.”

Your eyes widen in fear, stomach twisting up over the thought of him striking your sore ass with his thick leather belt. Your pussy, however, flutters in excitement. Slut, you think to yourself.

You hear his buckle clinking, he grabs you by the hair and jerks your head back. “Open you mouth,” he says with a snarl. You obey him and he slides the folded up leather between your teeth. “Bite down on this. You can speak to me again once you’ve learned your lesson.”

You press your teeth into the rough leather, waiting for his next move. His hand comes across the back of your thigh and it’s a whole different sensation. The pain shoots straight to your core, the walls of your pussy clenching harder than your teeth do as you whine out a high pitched squeal. On instinct your hands shoot back, knees bending to protect yourself from him. He steps back from you, without his heat you’re left in the cold air.

“Arms up and legs down,” he says in an eerily calm voice.

You whimper again, grinding your teeth against the leather of his belt before slowly peeling your arms and legs away from your body, returning to Joel’s desired position. You’re so wet that it’s staring pool along the leather seat of Joel’s truck, your hips slipping slightly.

“Dirty little thing. I’m tryin to punish you and you’re sopping wet.” He steps forward and lays a loud sharp slap with perfect precision right across your sore thigh.

You yelp again, whining as your lash line fills with tears. This is not what you thought would happen when Joel threatened to punish you. And you definitely didn’t expect to fucking love it. You’re so turned on that you feel dizzy.

Joel’s lips come to your thigh. Light kisses and his scratchy facial hair peppering along your red hot skin. “Fuck me,” you say around the leather clamped between your teeth.

Joel laughs into your skin, kissing along the handprints he’s left on your ass. You’re squirming underneath him, pushing your ass towards his face, desperate for him to make you come. His hands grip around your shorts and your whole body relaxes at the thought of him finally fucking you. “I need you to listen to me now, ok?”

You nod fervently and he lets out an amused laugh. You arch your back at him invitingly, but instead of removing your shorts he yanks them back up. You moan out in protest as he lifts you down from the truck. His strong fingers work to do up your shorts before he spins you. You look like a wreck; mascara smudged under your eyes, cheeks pink, eyes glazed and dopey looking. Cock drunk and he hasn’t even given it to you. He grabs the belt and you release it for him. It’s killing him not to fuck you right here and now.

His hand cups your chin, squeezing your cheeks and locking eyes with you. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

You try to nod but he’s gripping you so tightly. “Yea? Then you need to do what I say. Ok?”

“Mm-hmm”

“Go in there and quit. Then come back out here and I will fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it in your throat.”

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @mermaidgirl30

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wisyhana · 22 days ago

Text

Yugi and Ryou for the Monster Tamer AU!

Ryou's father is the only doctor in Domino town, and together run a small herbal business there.

Ryou has the habit to go into the forest to find plants and fungus, and most of the time he gets lost for days. In some occasions Yugi has to go and look for him, so Ryou doesn't get into the territory of dangerous beast.

#wisy art #yugioh #destructionshipping monster tamer AU #yugi mutou #ryou bakura

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tremendum · 2 years ago

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Mr. Miller

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)

rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)

word count: 6.8k requested: yes. here and here :)

summary: “six months before you ran yourself into any trouble with somebody - that's no easy feat, considering your track record, so you like to call it a win anyways. but boy, talk about a rocky start with someone. Tommy's goddamn brother, no less.”

warnings: Jackson era, mentions of marijuana use, age gap (unspecified), sliiightly dub!con, smut (PiV, unprotected), creampie, overstimulation, pussy spanking, choking, spit kink, slight knife kink (do not look at me), dom!Joel (brat tamer!Joel if you squint), slight sir kink, so much dirty talk, lots of begging, degradation kink, dacryphilia, mean!Joel, this is just shameless smut i am horrible notes: okay i kind of modified these asks but I thought it’d be fun to write it like this!!! as always reblogs/asks/comments are always great motivations :’) this is not reread because i am INSANE! xoxo

( read the sequel other Joel fics: fever landmines )

★

to be completely honest, you never would’ve guessed you’d move to Wyoming.

of course, in this world you didn't really have much of a choice of where you end up; it was hard to travel, yes, but there was some guiding hand that invisibly pushed you upon Jackson in the middle of a really rough winter.

a girl, lost and on her own through the dangerous sprawls of what's left of the United States - of course Tommy and Maria had accepted you into the community; you were resourceful, willing, and strong-headed.

most of Jackson was nice.

the people were good, the community functioned, and you were finally safe - you found a job working partly as a patrolman if an extra hand was needed, but mostly as a gardener.

it was a beautiful basin valley with sprawling mountains that glittered in the snow even during summer.

you'd only been there for - what, maybe half a year? six months before you ran yourself into any trouble with somebody - that's no easy feat, considering your track record, so you like to call it a win anyways. but boy, talk about a rocky start with someone.

Tommy's goddamn brother, no less.

you didn't particularly get off on the correct foot with Joel Miller. when he showed up in town, people were thrown off. you surely understood that - but it was Tommy's brother, and Tommy insisted he would be fine; he and the girl with him had already been 'round Jackson before, leaving just a week or so before you showed up, apparently.

you'd definitely heard about him.

coincidentally, you'd actually moved into the house that Tommy had wanted Joel to have; the house that had the spare girl's bedroom which Ellie came through to ravage once they came back into town. (apparently the towels at Joel's were too rough no matter how many times they were washed, and Ellie really liked that Tamagotchi you'd found in the bedroom she once slept in.)

maybe that'd already put him off, the short time in which Ellie had found company in you. who knows.

but unfortunately, your first impression of him was muddled by a very real lens of beer-goggles and a long week's aching exhaustion in your brain. he was large, a tall man whose disposition dripped of domineering power; he didn't trust anybody here and by the looks of it, they didn't particularly adore him. he kept to himself besides Tommy - who unfortunately along with his wife were really your closest comrades in the community.

you almost felt bad for him, because that's how many people saw you at first. but on that night, you were just drunk enough, as you greeted Maria and Tommy at the bar with smiles and a joke about your libido, that you didn't quite realize that Tommy's big brother Joel was sat there, eyes watching you with a glimmer of something lurking behind the rim of the beer bottle.

to be fair: everybody in this life is unkind in their first impressions. that's just how the world is now - 'every man for himself' is an unfortunately ugly reality and those who are too soft to see that are rarely spared the gore.

but when Tommy introduces you to Joel with a huff of a laugh and a friendly slap on your shoulder, Joel's eyes are distrusting, judging. he doesn’t say anything to you.

you try not to be offended.

"pleasure to meet ya, Mr. Miller." you nod with a grin, your cheeks hot with slight intoxication as his large, calloused palm slips into yours. his grip is tight - your wince is covered with your words as you momentarily shoot Maria a look, turning back to the man in front of you.

"I met your girl earlier. stormed into my house like she owned the damn thing. was lookin' for some stuff she'd found last time, I guess. I'm just glad she didn't find my collection of big-girl toys."

okay. okay, yeah, maybe you are too drunk. Maria laughs, at least, and Tommy lets out a chuckle, eyes flickering to Joel. but he just hums, eyes glancing over you once more before returning to nurse his dark beer with a furrow of his brows. “right.”

and pathetic as it is, he was too damn irresistible; you’d imagined that stare -that brooding scowl- one too many times in the dead of night, hands down your pants or in a stranger’s bed.

and it hadn't gotten better in the months following.

it was of circumstances most unfortunate for you that Joel and Ellie moved into a house just a few down from you - as much as you wished to just never see the man and his censorious stare, it was unavoidable. especially when Ellie showed up nearly day-to-day with questions, excuses, or even just complaints of boredom to coax you into letting her inside your house.

a week or so ago, you’d overheard Tommy in a hushed voice down at the dining hall trying to convince Joel it was a good thing, that Ellie was learning to garden, learning about woman stuff (yes, he actually fucking said that), and - god forbid- make friends.

but you love Ellie.

she in't like Joel. she’s funny, and lively, and easy-going once you warmed up to her. in fact, you actually started to collect things from around town to show her on her ceremonious visits; books, tattered board games, once you even found a trumpet in the crawlspace of your old house. it was rusty and honestly probably still had dried saliva from whichever fifth-grader played it way back before the outbreak, but it was enough to entertain you and the fifteen-year-old girl for hours even if neither of you knew how to play it.

and maybe it was after Ellie mentioned to you with a giggle that Joel complains about you calling him ‘Mr. Miller,’ or maybe it was when she said he’d always ask about you and what you’re like whenever she returned from your days together.

no matter what the catalyst really was, you just know you have it bad for that man, in the worst way - because he is a fucking asshole.

but the worst of it was when Joel and you get paired up to patrol together on the outskirts. it means hours together of breathing and awkward looks, silence from you because he was silent and clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

you suffered through hours of Joel’s rugged sageness for survival, tugging you effortlessly through boulders, lifting yourselves high through dilapidated structures in the middle of the wilderness. he was strong and capable and fucking sexy, and that made it all the more unbearable when snide comments about your youth or your inexperience or your lack of punctuality would pass his lips. it was annoying how hot it made you.

as the summer rolled around, the horde was growing ever-present at the lips of Jackson county, festering like the moss that spreads along the woodsy forests in the northwest - hence your increased activity with the others who patrol the area and keep the community safe.

he was a many of almost no words, and though you were in no way the same when you were around people you trust, the man just brings out the skeptic in you - so for weeks, it was days of the two of you walking in silence, the only noise being weak impasses and jabs at the other’s self-esteem all veiled by a smirk or an eye-roll.

and still, each day out passed with your untrustworthy gazes pinned on the horizon just as much on each other's trigger fingers.

you're at your wit's end on one Friday evening as you finally return into town from patrol with him.

Joel is a man plagued by too many unnamed illnesses; the likes of which you so fondly call in your head 'can't-accept-help-itis' and 'stubborn-old-asshole-luenza.' part of his symptoms render him unable to say full sentences to you without a judgmental look or a skeptical scoff, and sure you're not always the best judge of character, but you're confident that Joel has his eyes on your backside every single time you bend over to move your marker on the trail. he’s thought about it, too.

but right now, you’re so tense you’re about to snap.

his gaze hasn't left your profile for - you swear to god - almost thirty fucking minutes. like, nearly the whole walk from the first outpost. he’s been staring at you like you’re a ghost, or a second head sprouted from your neck.

the heat of the summer night is unsullied; though you’re high in elevation, the warm wind blows a gust over your bare knees and ruffles your hair, coaxing a damp feeling to settle between your thighs under his gaze.

"if you stare any harder at me, you'll get a fucking nose bleed." you sneer, keeping your eyes ahead as you grit your teeth. his gaze is burning into your side and with your words, they maintain their heat.

whatever he was thinking, he keeps it to himself. you glare at his own profile, thick thighs, sturdy chest, hair that blows gently in the warm air. his jaw, glinting against the lights that guide you back into town. at least he’s looked away from you. good.

your victorious smirk is wiped off of your lips with his next words, the first in several hours from him besides grunts and directives. "d'you have the logs on you?"

you look at him with revelation. "shit." you sigh shaking your head, "they're- they're at home."

his face slides into a look of disdain, deep vexation at the task of now going back with you to your own house to sign the logs and confirm your findings for this patrol. "great." he mutters, feet kicking into gear to hightail it up the street, towards your house.

the heat is swirling around your legs in the darkening evening as you finally enter your house, sighing into the empty air. the lights flicker when you switch them on, and you'd bring yourself to be more embarrassed about the disheveled state of your things if it had been anyone else with you.

it doesn’t even matter, after all; his sights are set one one incriminating little piece of evidence in the corner of the living room.

the small nub that sits on the tray by your windowsill seems to be more salient for Joel than the hurricane that threw your belongings across the space.

your hands fall onto your hips, sighing as he accusingly lifts it from its ashy grave, eyes furrowed in irritation. your flannel sticks to your sleeves in the heat as his eyes meet yours.

"is this- 's this marijuana?" he's incredulous as his fingers pinch the burnt-out roach, and you screw your brows at him; is he serious? you ignore the dwarfed look of the small old joint in his large hand, instead rolling your eyes. "yeah, some folks call it weed. you can smoke it and it makes you feel real good. you ever heard of it, Mr. Miller?" you snark, the sarcasm spilling from your lips deliciously; Joel eats it up like a man starved, his jaw ticking as he tilts his head.

you know he secretly loves when you taunt him with the honorific; yes, it gets on his nerves, but there’s a secret air about him that suggests he likes it that way. it is easier to blur the lines between hate and desire than affection and desire, after all.

"Ellie comes over here every day." he hisses, eyes sharp. you blink slowly at him, trying to fight the laugh that creeps up your throat; his gaze is dark, furious - did he think you were smoking weed with the girl? she's, like, thirteen. (fifteen, she corrects you in your mind. but still.)

"that’s correct." you confirm, turning from him to search the kitchen for the log you'd forgotten in your haste to leave. his footsteps ring angry onto the floorboards. "if you're worried about that, I’d never smoke around her. 'm not that disrespectful." you defend, avoiding eye contact as you shuffle through your drawer of junk.

"doesn’t matter. she won't be coming round much more." he threatens it - tests the waters. as if he has the authority to punish you.

you lift a brow at him, "don’t you think she should be able to make that choice?" you throw back at him, tossing your switchblade onto the table to your right as you sort through the miscellaneous items with both hands.

uh oh, that struck a nerve in the man.

his eyes sharpen as he breathes harsh at your words; "don't talk about things you know nothing about, girl." he snaps, crossing his arms, "now find the fucking log so I can leave."

you glare at him, gesturing in front of you; your eyes scream no shit, Joel, I’m looking.

it's silent as you search through the drawer, gritting your teeth in the tense silence of anger, thicker than molasses.

you click your jaw, refusing to let it go, let him think he won.

"I do have self respect, y'know." you pipe up, lifting a brow as you finally stumble upon the log, pulling a dying pen from the drawer and scribbling notes as you plop down on a wooden chair at your kitchen table.

Joel stays standing; it does not go unnoticed when his eyes take in the contours of your body, the clothes that stick to you in the heat of the summer; a pair of jean shorts, torn from years of use, and a thin tank top, covered with an unbuttoned flannel. his eyes sear into you at your words.

wow. fuck him.

(no, not like fuck him, but- fuck him.)

"never said you didn't, darlin'." he mutters condescendingly, the pet name leaving his mouth bitterly. any form of backlash you were going to unleash on his dies in your throat quickly when he leans over your shoulder to sign his own name next to yours. your eyes widen to search his face as his own skim over your account of the patrol. he's- wow, he's closer to you than you would have expected.

holy shit. smoky swirls of gunpowder, pine, and dark amber whiskey. they fill your nostrils, dizzying your mind as you let out a stuttered breath - it's hot in here... your eyes glance as a small lick of sweat trickles down his neck. your throat is dry, heat swirling in your abdomen as he hums, "jus' think Ellie should start hangin' around with others."

"why's that?" you snap, daring him to say it. fuck, your heart is pounding in your chest. oh, if he just admits it; that he thinks he's better than you, that he thinks you're pathetic - lord, you yearn for it, you’d have a fucking field day. you want an excuse to hit him. or bite him.

fuck Joel Miller, and- okay, fine. fuck him, too.

his brows are furrowed as he glares hawkishly at your stubborn form; his gaze is serrated with disdain, jaw clenching with the words you're just begging him to admit.

"she's been cussin' and speaking...vulgar." he mutters, eyes flickering away from you. your jaw unhinges as you huff in surprise; he has the audacity to accuse you for teaching her to be foul-mouthed? hadn't she traveled with him for, what, a year? she’s a teenager - that’s what they do.

"oh, please." you snap, "that girl was far from a princess when you showed up here, you know." you mutter, tossing a look over your shoulder up at him, the buttons undone at the top of his shirt staring at you, mocking you.

"I know." he dismisses. his hand falls to stable himself on the back of your chair as he leans down towards you, "but you ain't helping. don't need her gettin' into any more trouble."

you narrow your eyes, "trouble?" you parrot, accusing.

the air is warm, thick as you cross your arms, the windows open and flowing the outside summer air into your nostrils. "how could I be trouble? you hardly know me." you snap, offended. you swirl with irritation.

"because I listen. people think you're harsh. untrustworthy." he spits, smirking down at you as if his words are poison that'll dissolve your whole being into a small puddle of regret. but no, it's gasoline; his words are enough to incite your flames, lick you alive with ardor.

he doesn't like you? oh, big fucking deal. you don't like him.

"you ever heard of the pot calling the kettle black, Mr. Miller?" you drawl, lifting an accusatory brow. “what if you’re the bad influence? it’s not like you have any more manners than I do.”

his jaw sets and his nostrils flare from his sharp exhale; you let your eyes swipe over the splattering of freckles that peek out from under the scruff beard that grows; a scar jags across his skin, frown lines creasing his scowl in a dark, terribly attractive way. you’re tip-toeing a line here, you can feel it.

he can feel it, too.

his eyes dip down, though you try hard to hold his heated gaze; they trail slowly over your shoulders and down, down to the dip of your collarbones and then over your breasts, heaving slightly with the proximity of the man. his gaze nearly melts the tank top that stretches over your torso and a flood of excitement rushes through you, pooling in the seat of your underwear. a smirk creeps onto your face at his wandering stare - resentful, loathing, heated.

something in you snaps, and you can't deal with it any longer; not with his proximity, leaning over your shoulder and staring you down, with half-rolled sleeves. his forearms, they’re thick- goddamn, he's so-

"-I can't tell if you're looking at me like that because you want to kill me, or you want to fuck me." you snap, breaking his spell as you snap his attention back to your own eyes with your bold choice of words. "either way, it'll have to wait. I got shit to do, Mr. Miller, and for some reason, you're still in my house giving me fuck-me-eyes."

"-you better watch your mouth." he snarls, chest heaving as he leans forward menacingly, his jaw clenched.

you let yourself smile up at him, "or what, Mr. Miller?" you ask kindly, voice dripping with perfidious innocence.

he sneers, eyes raking over your form, jaw ticking. your body flushes with warmth under his scrutinous gaze; one of your bare legs slides up to rest on the chair next to you, on full display snd illuminated in the light of the kitchen as you smirk at him. his dark chocolate gaze slides over the skin revealed; your skin tingles in excitement under his watch. it makes you chuckle.

"what, you don't like the way I speak?" you hiss, glaring at him. "chastising me for shit that you do, too?" you mutter snidely, pulling your leg back down as his eyes glare into yours. "I'm an adult, you can't tell me what to say. fucking hypocrite."

your hand presses into his chest, standing to your full height. his chest is firm, hot, but he lets you do it easily, moving back out of your space; giving you an out, offering you a chance to say this-isn't-what-I-want. but you won't take it. no, instead you slide up closer to him, until you're too close.

"why so quiet now, Mr. Miller?" you almost purr, your hand still toying with your switchblade, the glint of it reflecting in his eyes. slowly, you lift the blade to trace it gently, softly over his jawline, as you’d do with your fingers. he watches you like a damn hawk, breathing heavy.

the scratch of it against the facial hair is enough for him to snap; suddenly snatching the blade from between your fingers in one quick motion.

“you’re testin’ my patience.” he growls, shaking his head as he holds the handle of the knife in an iron-like grip. you shake your head, “yeah, well, you’ve taken all mine.” you counter. “so…” you start, raising a brow at the knife in his hands, the way your legs are turning to putty, “you going to kill me, Mr. Miller? or fuck me?” you whisper it into his ear, up on the tips of your toes as the peppering-gray curls at the base of his ear tickle your lips.

a sharp exhale - almost a surrender. then, a rough hand pushes you down against the table, hard. your body is pliant, willing, excited as his force brings you to thud against the wood, his hand flying down quick just to your right in a loud thud.

your head snaps to your right, eyes wide and jaw open; your switchblade pins your own flannel to the table, stabbed down and holding the material and your arm in place. christ, it barely missed nicking your skin.

“depends on if you can learn some goddamn manners.” he growls, leaning over you, his hips slotting between your thighs.

maybe it’s the look on his face, or just how damn long it’s been since you had someone, or just because it’s Joel – but your facade falls so quick and you’re soon keening up towards him, arching your back so your chest sticks out.

“I’m a fast learner.” you promise; at that, he merely hums, his hips grinding slow over yours. you let your eyes squeeze shut, groaning lightly at the bliss of his rough denim sliding against your shorts-clad cunt, throbbing with desire.

you’re breathless; shivers cascade down your spine at the press of his hips against yours, licking your lips to wet them; “fuck, Joel-“ your breath is strangled, “please. I can be good for you.” you try to convince him, blinking your eyes up at him. his smirk is downright evil as his hands fall to your top, skating over the tops of your breasts before one hand grips your jaw in his large palm, squeezing hard onto your cheeks and forcing you to stare into his eyes.

his grip is unforgiving. “y’think you can jus’ bat those pretty eyes at me?” he sneers, his breath hot and fanning over your face. you’re overheating- god, it’s so fucking hot in your house; your hand raises to grip his forearm, swallowing your pride for the sake for finally getting to feel him inside you, “’m sorry, Joel.” you mutter, cheeks squished by his hand.

his brow furrows, shaking his head. a chastising tutting noise escapes his throat as he rolls his hips, grinding sloooow and smooth against your dripping cunt, aching with desire.

“no, you’re fucking not.” he spits, pushing you harder against the table. your throat is dry, a whimper of desire escaping your throat. his lips brush the shell of your ear as he leans more of his weight on you, your legs wrapping around his hips and your own surging up, up in search for some friction, “say it. say you’re not sorry. you like it, I can tell.”

shivers spill down your spine as you bite back a moan, cheeks alight with heat at his teasing. Your eyes lull over towards the blade that holds down your shoulder, pinning you against the table. a hot rush of arousal floods your underwear as you swallow, eyes rising to meet his in a lidded gaze.

“I like it,” you admit in a shameful gasp, hand sliding up to explore his chest, “I’m- I’m not sorry. I like it, ‘m not sorry.” you mutter, voice desperate, pathetic; you’re swallowing a whimper as he grinds slowly against you again, his hardened cock straining against his jeans.

his hand snaps to pin yours down to the edge of the table; your eyes snap up to his, meeting the swirling lust within his deep eyes, searching your face with a dangerous smirk. “you aren’t sorry?” he asks, voice dripping with condescending cockiness.

you shake your head no desperately, searching his eyes to see if he’s pleased.

he smirks at your desperation. "you will be, darlin’." he mutters, his own eyes exploring your chest as it heaves, breasts barely spilling out the top of your tank top’s hem. you smile up at him despite your desperation; hunger curls in your chest as you move your hips up against him and his face falters, a groan escaping his throat. his eyes swirl with the dark shine of a man who is nothing less than dangerous.

the hand that isn’t pinned by the blade creeps up his arm, brushing the thick cords of muscle that rope his bicep and shoulders; soon, though, one of his hands is gripping your wrist and slamming it down against the edge of the table.

you gasp from the roughness, biting your lip as your fingers curls around the edge and hold tight under his grip.

“don’t move your hands,” he mutters as his lips dip low to trace over the seam of your top, breath brushing over the soft skin of your breasts. “or I’ll leave you here, pinned to this table.”

arousal floods you at his words and you nod silently, swallowing as his teeth bite roughly at your pressure point. “d’you hear me, girl?” he grunts, his hands moving to pull out one of your breasts from your top, your peaked nipple instantly tugged between his prying fingers.

you let out a yelp at the sensation and he huffs against your skin, biting again. “fuck,” you whimper loudly, bucking your hips as your hands grip tight against the edge of the table; one arm is pinned with the knife anyways, but your heart thunders as his tongue peaks out, brushing hot against your sweat-sheened skin.

A hand snakes to your throat and you can’t stop the moan you let out, air sucking through your windpipe at the light grip he keeps; you’re obsessed with how all-consuming he is.

Joel’s everywhere – his smell, his eyes, his hands, tongue – you want him to be inside you, you want him to be in you forever, ever, ever.

fuck Joel Miller. fuck him, and fuck him.

“I asked you something. answer me.” he squeezes your throat as he emphasizes, as he demands you; you buck up against him, convinced you’re soaking through your goddamn shorts, leaving disgusting proof of your sick, twisted arousal as you move against his crotch.

his dominance causes your face to flare with heat; you weren’t expecting him to seduce you into submission - you love it. “y-yes, yes, sir. I he-heard you.” you gasp, face flushing hot as the words leave you. he smirks darkly as he pulls away from you, danger lurking in his eyes deliciously as he nods, seemingly pleased.

he nods. “good.”

his hips are gone from you in an instant and your gasp is choked – but he wastes no time in popping the button on your jeans, sliding them and your underwear off of you in one long motion.

his pupils somehow blow even wider as he stands in front of you, palming his thick cock through his jeans, watching you pant hard.

you’re exposed in front of him – your pussy is swollen with need, pulsing with desire as one of your breasts rests exposed to the air as the knife pins you down by the arm of your flannel; you’re fucking exposed and you love it. he’s intoxicating.

“you’re soaked.” he says after a moment of silence so long that you barely register his gruff voice. you blink, bringing your eyes back up to his from where he’s begun to undo his belt.

you can’t help the light smirk as you stare up at him, “maybe I happen to like it when you’re vulgar with me.”

he glares at you but there’s a hint of something more that flashes through his eyes; adoration? no, it couldn’t be. Joel Miller can’t adore anything.

but then out of nowhere his fingers delve through your velvet, slippery folds in a fervor; your breath chokes yet again in your lungs as you tense with the sudden stimulation.

a low, guttural moan falls from your lips as the pads of his middle and ring fingers rub tight, slow circles on your clit, “bet you taste so good, don’t you?” he murmurs, his teeth finding purchase upon your neck, sucking a mark so hard you’re sure you’ll have it for weeks. christ. “y’want me to taste you, pretty girl?”

fuck. images flash through your mind of him on his knees, tongue unraveling you, drowning in you while your thighs close around those thick greying curls.

your moan falls from you fast, nodding quick, “yes, yes, please, please, use your mouth.“ your whines are downright embarrassing – you’re not a wide-eyed virgin teen, for fuck’s sake – but Joel’s stirring you just right, making you purr with pleasure.

but instead of his tongue, a harsh swat falls onto your aching cunt and your hips jolt at the stimulation, your clit throbbing and the sting making you groan his name. you can’t help the moan of disappointment.

“well, isn’t that too bad?” he snarls, his voice mean. you feel tears of frustration spring in your eyeline as you huff a sigh, his fingers slowly, torturously moving over your clit yet again. “bet you’d love if I ate your cunt. probably dream about it, don’t ya? d’you think about me when you touch yourself?”

Christ, you’d never expected Joel-don’t-fucking-talk-to-me-Miller to be so fucking dirty; but you learned your lesson last time, so you nod quick, eyes lidded through the euphoric, teasing pleasure from the pads of his fingers.

“all-all the time, J-Joel, fuck, think about you all the time.”

and it’s true.

“that’s right. my slut, thinkin’ about me.” he spits, mouth peppering bites over your throat. “gonna have to make y’cum fast, baby. Maria’s probably waiting for us t’turn in the logs.”

the possession in his voice brings you even further towards the edge, catapulting you, sending you frustratingly close as your body tenses, puckering hole clenching around nothing as he slowly works you.

you nod your head, unable to open your eyes as your legs close around Joel’s fingers; in anger, his hand tears your thighs apart, swatting the soft skin of your thighs in punishment. you yelp at the sting, biting your lip as a new gush of arousal leaks from your neglected hole and drips down onto the table.

fueled by frustration and adrenaline and some desperate fire of attraction that’s been burning between you since he first showed up in Jackson, you nearly scream, “please, fuck me now, Joel, please I’ll do anything-“

his hand leaves his ministrations quick, his glare sharp as his fingers glisten with your desperate arousal; they’re soaked. you feel yourself flush in embarrassment until he smirks darkly, tugging himself out of the confines of his jeans. “there, see? learnin’ some manners.”

his cock is heavy and thick as it slides through your wet, slick folds. your breath, panting out and puffing as you watch in awe. his: stuttering as the tip of his dick notches at your clenching hole, teasing.

“Jesus, you’re trying t-to swallow me, darlin’.” His hand reaches out, grabbing a palm full of your tit as he rocks his hips, once again nudging your leaking hole.

your whole body shivers in anticipation; you will your eyes to not reveal how fucking turned on you are about his size - you’re more wet than you’ve ever been in your life and his cock is - well, it’s thick, long, bigger than you’d like to admit.

“greedy fuckin’ pussy.” he grunts to himself as you hold yourself as still as possibly, one tear escaping as you your eyes clench shut in desire.

“’m ready, Joel.” you whimper, eyes opening to find his hot gaze already searing through you; he just smirks, nodding slightly. “yeah, bet you are, pretty girl.”

he can’t thrust all the way into you, not fully- his cock is too thick, your cunt slick with arousal but still so goddamn tight. the rumbling moan he lets out as he inches in slowly is fucking heavenly.

a strangled gasp leaves your lips when he starts to slide into you, inch-by-inch, stretching you open and filling you full of him. your fingers twitch at your sides as you yearn to card your fingers through his thick curls; his head falls heavy against your chest as he mutters, “s’tight, baby, fu-fuckin’ tight.”

“so much,” you whimper, fingers tight and shaking as you restrain from grabbing his arms to stabilize himself, “‘s too much.” you mumble, tears stinging. he hums, the ghost of a kiss over your cheek before he’s in your ear, whispering, “am I too big for you, baby? gonna hav’ta work you open on my fingers first next time, yeah?”

his dark grin grows as you nod your head dumbly, “fuck- yeah, yes.” you agree, nodding,

his voice is starting to slur, accent getting thicker as he soon splits you fully, speared and sheathed deep, deep into you. you’re fluttering around him as you accommodate to his size, the feeling of him nearly breaking you open as he starts to shallowly thrust.

you let out a loud moan, his thickness stretching you and sliding deeper than expected, kissing against a spot that has you keening. your toes curl and your head falls back as he pulls out, thrusting back into you slow, grinding, deep.

all you can say is his name; it falls from your lips like it’s the only word you know, his hips soon pistoning into you with fervor, chasing the feeling coiling in your abdomen.

his hands roam.

they explore every part of you they can reach, his teeth marking every inch of your throat and painting you into a beautiful piece of art. for him.

the noise of your pussy swallowing his girth in is downright filthy as it echoes through your kitchen; your head lulls to the side as you let out a languid moan, the spot he's hitting making your eyes roll back. you can feel stray tears leak down your cheeks, hot and heavy as you whimper in desire; you're so goddamn close, already, you know he can feel it.

“y’gonna-“ he grunts, eyes screwed shut in pleasure as yours leak down your cheeks, body shaking with desire, “-gonna take my cock and say thank you, ‘s that right?”

a shaking rush of arousal just slickens you even more; the sounds of his body rocking into yours wet and loud in the room as you nod frantically, the pleasure coiling dangerously fast.

but it seems you weren’t quick enough with your response: Joel’s hips slow, then stop completely.

you’re left gasping, eyes wide as you stare up at him in shock: “wh-why?” you whimper, his pulsing length half out of you, teasing you.

Joel’s eyes meet your own and he sternly swats your tits, eyes watching as the breast exposed to the air moves in recoil.

“do you want to cum?” he asks, as if he’s asking what 2 + 2 is. your face fucking burns as you nod, “yes-“

but he grunts, hips too agonizingly still as he leans forward, “then take my cock, fuck yourself on it. and use your fuckin’ manners.”

you blink at him, spurring into action only after a very brief short-circuited moment. your hips stutter and shake at the angle, unable to move in a way that stimulates yourself enough to bring you back to the edge.

you shutter, muttering, “th-thank- thank you,” but you can’t do it. you glare at him as you move your hips, hands shaking, muscles straining, but you can tell he’s not pleased: brows drawn, a swat to your exposed breast that stings and spurs your hips quicker.

“come on, this is pathetic.” he snarls, fingers gently pinching your clit. the yelp you let out is dry, starved. “why so quiet now, darlin’?” he throws your own words back at you deliciously.

he stands stationary, eyes judging you, focused on where your cunt tries to swallow his cock, your movements choppy and weak. tears spring in your eyes; he feels so good, but you just can’t get it right.

“please.” you nearly whisper it, but it’s exactly what he was looking for. he rocks his hips shallowly, your body rocking gently with the slow, deep force of him splitting you open.

“please, what?” he whispers into your ear, teeth scraping your jaw. resentment and arousal flows through your veins as you let out a strangles, “please, s-sir-“

with the words, Joel’s hips cant up into you, the slight angle making your legs coil and your throat burn.

“please fuck me, y’feel- I can’t do it, need- you feel so good, fuck me hard, please, I want it.” you let go, begging and desperate to give you what you crave.

his hips pick up a brutal pace. your back is pounded into the wood below you, the cool blade of the knife cold against your flannel as one of his large hands moves you until your legs are thrown up, over his shoulders.

the stretch is unimaginable and he doesn’t give you any time to adjust; his hips are unforgiving, fucking you open and letting your juices of arousal spill over the skin of your thighs and onto the table.

“such a foul fuckin’ mouth on you.” he spits, one hand gripping your jaw until it opens for him, your mind clouded with the chase of your highs.

he spits into your mouth, saliva warm and intoxicating as you swallow it happily, nodding in a daze. “gonna fuck you stupid, aren’t I? you won’t think about anything but me for weeks.”

he’s right, and he fucking knows it.

you nod at him, unable to form full words as he hits the spongy, delicious spot inside you that nearly makes you pass out. your hands fucking ache from the grip on the table, but you hope he’s pleased that they haven’t moved a damn inch this whole time; even as he splits you wide open and takes you apart.

you’re so close you might actually start to sob as the crest of your orgasm tingles your thighs, your toes curling and legs shaking.

he's close, too. his thrusts are getting slower, sloppier.

“whose pussy is this?” Joel grunts, his movements soon desperate and deep; his tip kisses your cervix and your body jolts up the table with each movement of his pubic bone against yours.

the pain is fucking euphoric, delicious as you grip the edge of the table so hard you’re unsure they’ll ever relax. his finger pinches your nipple and you yelp, sweat sticking to your forehead, “-y-yours, fuck, Joel- yours, a-always.” you whimper, breathless.

you feel his smile grow against your neck and the butterflies that grow in your chest seem out of place with the bruises that will soon blossom on your skin from his teeth, his fingers.

you smile, too.

"god, you're perfect- f-feel fuckin' perfect around me, baby. need you to cum." as his sentence ends, his head jerks up, one hand rising to grip your jaw tight. your eyes snap to his and the anger boils, festering with the desire and lust within his eyes, "know y'can't help it, can you?"

you shake your head fiercely as your orgasm nears. he hums deep, a rumble from his chest, “what do you say if you want me to let you cum?”

fuck. fuckfuckfuck you’re too close- your muddled mind spits a barely cohesive babble of pleads, “please, p-pleaseplease I-I’m sorry I’m sorry-“

“you’re sorry?” he presses, hips not giving up; your whole body burns as you wait for your orgasm, knowing in any second it’ll be ruined. “look at those pretty eyes. did y’learn your manners? y’gonna say thank you?”

you let out a sob of pleasure, his thrusts so deep you can feel them in your throat. “yes, Joel- please- let me cum, please-“

his hand slides to your throat. “cum now.”

you swallow around his grip and let out a near scream of his name as his other hand snakes between you; a finger brushes against your abused clit, the combined stimulation pushing you over the edge.

you see colors.

your orgasm explodes as you gush around him, pulsing, begging, unraveling around his touch. your voice is broken, mutters and whimpers of his name followed by thank you, thank you drifting through the room.

your thighs are soaked with your own spend and he feels you grip him like a vice; he can't help but kiss the tears from your cheeks as he milks you through your orgasm, muttering soft grunts in your ear.

"that's it, baby. there y'go, cum on my dick when i fuckin' tell you to." he kisses the column of your throat as his thrusts slow to deep, long thrusts. "atta girl."

you scream at his words and the overstimulation. he shushes you, thrusts slow. "'m gonna cum." he sounds almost desperate, his body so close to yours it's almost like he's trying to smother you.

he groans your name in a broken sound; his grip tugging your hair. he moves back, frantic to pull out and ride his high- but you panic.

"w-wait!" you rush, hands springing without thinking to push his hips hard against yours. you can't bear to imagine him pulling out of you so soon - you need to feel him, be full of him. "cum in me, Joel- I need it, j-just- fuck!"

his hand slams over your mouth, effectively silencing you with a loud grunt of his own, "shut the fuck up," he growls, sounding too close. “jesus, girl- gonna wake up the whole n-neighborhood-“ but even his shamefully dirty mouth falters when he chases his orgasm.

soon he thrusts shallowly into your pulsing cunt before he's moaning, spurting his seed into you.

hot, thick ropes of cum paint your walls as you flutter, whimpering as you breathe heavy, hands skittering up his back despite his earlier orders.

his lips brush over your skin as he lies on you, heavy; "jesus christ." is all he mutters, pulling out of you with a slick sound and tucking himself into his jeans.

you can only stare at the ceiling, the light above the table you’re laid upon swinging with the residual force of your bodies colliding.

a hand falls in a sharp thud to your right, pulling hard to dislodge the knife from its home against you; the notch it leaves reveals the patrol log; speared in the middle with the evidence of you and Joel's digressions.

oops.

you're wrecked. you're a trembling frame of a structure after the hurricane of Joel Miller took threw you, stripping you to your bare bones. a ghost of lips over the inside skin of your knees as they fall, weak, off of his shoulders. and then he stares at you as you shakily sit up, setting your clothes right, swallowing on a raw throat.

“‘m sorry about the flannel.” he gestures to the rip in your arm where the knife had pinned you down and something about it makes you chuckle, smoothing down your hair. “are you- are you okay?” he asks suddenly, hard eyes looking almost soft under the glow of the lamplight.

he hands you your underwear and jeans and helps you slide back into them in a surprisingly sweet turn of events.

“more than okay, christ. if you make me cum like that again you can do anything you want to my clothes.” you wink with a deep breath, smiling gently at him when he helps you stand back up on shaky legs. he actually sends you a half-smirk at that, and it flutters along your chest.

the nighttime air is not so suffocating as you and Joel make your way towards Maria, his hand grazing over the small of your back as you walk on Jell-o legs, faces flushed and sweat slicking to your skin.

it’s awkward.

“I-” he starts, swallowing air as you stare up at him. sweat trickles from his brow and you itch to trace it with your tongue.

“I actually think you’re not too bad,” he finishes, turning to walk up the steps to Tommy and Maria’s. you blink, heat fluttering in your chest as he admits, but soon whirls around to ensure you hear him, “for Ellie. just- don’t do that shit around her, right?” he clarifies.

you grin at his reddened cheeks as he tucks the log into the box set near the door, filing it under the western outpost for the date.

“yes, Mr. Miller.” you mock-salute him, smirking to yourself as his flush deepens, the scowl ever-present on his face softening slightly at your smile.

“christ.” he shakes his head, “you’re gonna get me into a lot of trouble.” you don’t miss the smile that creeps on his face as he starts to walk you back home.

read part 2

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hellishjoel · 1 year ago

Text

say my name

8.5k / pairing: brat tamer!joel miller x f!reader

psycho masterlist main masterlist

summary: It’s Joel’s birthday, and his brother, Tommy, is in town to celebrate. You meet the more charming Miller for the first time, and the two of you flirt up a storm. By the end of the night, Joel’s pissed and jealous. But that doesn’t stop you from moaning Tommy’s name in bed.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, brat tamer!Joel, somewhat established relationship (whatever that relationship may be ((situationship, relationship, etc.)), toxic!couple, swearing, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, slapping, degradation, praise kink, spitting, choking, blood, marking kink, creampie, pussy smacking (??), lots of dom!joel brought out by jealous!joel, overstimulation, Tommy being a flirt, angst, mentions of being cheated on, Joel being a menace, unprotected p in v (wrap your willy or whateva), half-ass editing tbh

A/N: happy birthday to Joel Miller!! I was picturing this entire prompt with pixel Joel, thanks to @macfrog - this part is based off this request sent in!

You did a lot of stupid things tonight. Wearing your shortest dress, stalking Joel to his hangout with Tommy, flirting with his brother for the majority of the night. But now, you were ready to do the stupidest thing yet. You moan into his ear, your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as you feel your orgasm begin to approach. “Fuck me, Tommy.” It hits Joel like a ton of bricks. All his movements pause. He pulls away just half an inch and stares down at you. A cold, downright mean look crosses his face once you’ve popped your eyes open to take a look at him. The room suffocates you in silence. “What did you say?”

September 26th, 2023. It’s Joel’s forty-second birthday!

The thought alone riles you awake. You love birthdays. You especially love when it’s Joel’s birthday because he hates his birthday. You have no idea why, he looks more and more handsome with each year that he blows out a candle.

You think about these things curled up into his side, chin on his chest while your fingers lightly grazed over his stippled grey chest hair. It was barely past the early morning hours. You gently trace over the etched lines in his forehead and between his brows. He must scowl at you even in his sleep. You should be asleep, too, especially after having spent the late hours of September 25th celebrating the end of Joel’s forty-first year with a bang. Literally.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, clutching his comforter to your bare chest as your panties are just out of reach on the floor a few feet from the bed. You huff and flee the warmth of his bed to retrieve them in as much silence as you can muster, watching him carefully let out a puff of air through his parted lips before lightly rolling over and spooning your pillow in the process. You stifle a giggle as you grab his t-shirt he threw off in the midst of getting handsy with you last night.

“Happy last day of being forty-one, old timer.”

“Shut up and bend over.”

He always did have a way with words.

You managed to sneak downstairs without Joel catching you in his arms. Your bare feet meet the cold tile of his kitchen floor.

Joel’s home looked like you might imagine. Dark walls, not exactly black but not exactly grey or navy. He has a desk, a messy one that is littered with bills and invoices scattered with pencils that had the erasers shaved down to nothing. There was a large flat screen mounted to the wall, and a television console below it filled with old vinyl records and random CDs. He did have a few plants scattered around, and he actually took very good care of them. There were a few dishes in the sink from dinner last night. Empty beer cans on the half-wall by his back garage door. His keys and wallet were thrown haphazardly on the counter.

These are the things that make you adore staying at Joel’s place, it was so homey and cozy. These were the things that made Joel, Joel.

You throw your hair up and out of your way, finding the box of cake mix you stashed in the back of his pantry for this very special occasion. And just like that, you were a chef in Joel’s kitchen. Or was it a baker?

Despite your best efforts, the cake was just a mess. And there were no redoes with cakes. And when you were shopping, you were thinking a little too much about yourself rather than Joel, so the cake was coated in pink icing. It was a shit cake, but you hoped Joel would like it. He wasn’t a guy with a big sweet tooth, but you’d force him to have a slice since this was your labor of love.

U CAN’T PICK YOUR FATHER BUT U CAN PICK YOUR DADDY was lettered with red icing and cute pink assorted sprinkles.

The smell of freshly baked cake woke him up.

“You burnin’ somethin’?” Joel’s tired voice echoed in the kitchen.

He was wearing grey sweats and his black boxers, the band peaking out from the top of his waistband as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. He looked like a big oaf fresh from sleep, shuffling past you to the oven and turning on the fan to air out the smoke and smell.

“Ha-ha. Nothing’s that burnt. It’s your birthday cake!” You cooed as you showed him what you made.

The word birthday was enough to make him roll his eyes.

“Didn’t have to make me anythin’. Just another day.” He muttered but came up behind you to take a look at the cake nonetheless. You watched with a proud smile as the left side of his mouth quirked up upon reading the design.

“Do you like it?” You asked, turning your back to the counter and letting his hips pin you there. His large, warm palm settled low on your waist. You watch as he swipes his index finger into the frosting, observing the sugary cream before his eyes set on yours. His orbs are as black as night as he offers you a taste.

You maintain his eye contact as you lean in and wrap your mouth around his finger, hollowing your cheeks as you suckle it off and lap your tongue around the tip before letting him go with a soft smirk.

“Like it ‘cause you made it. That’s all.” Joel’s chest hums as he speaks, his head ducking down to catch your lips in a delicate kiss. The delicate part doesn’t last for long. His kisses turn heavy, and his cock hardens against your thigh as he bends you backward against the counter.

Your nails catch his shoulders in a desperate attempt not to smash into the cake. You know that if he gets too into this, he’ll end up pushing it aside so radically that your creation will end up on the floor, so you quickly nudge it out of reach before continuing.

He’s hungry, his tongue lines your bottom lip, still coated in a sugary taste, before he explores the inside of your mouth dominantly. You’re whimpering in excitement as his possessive hands lift you up onto the counter, your baking instruments clattering around you and rolling, making a complete mess, but you don’t care. It’s Joel’s birthday, after all.

You gasp into his mouth as he cups your clothed pussy and gently pats his fingers against you. The sensation makes your head fall back, and your eyes flutter closed. Your lips part just a fraction, Joel takes the opportunity to slip his tongue back inside to wrestle with your own. He pats you again, and you feel your panties grow a wet spot as white heat pools your insides.

“Just how I like it, ready to be taken like a little slut in the mornin’.” His rigid voice growled, suppressing you of any strength you had left to resist collapsing across the counter.

Both of you pause, irritated facial expressions matching when Joel’s phone starts to ring.

Your heavy pants mingle in the air between you with indecision. You glare at him as he moves half an inch away, the grip on his shoulders tightening in need. Don’t pick it up, Joel.

He closes his lips and lightly squints at you in disapproval as he stands up straight and starts toward his phone. You throw your head back and groan, slipping your hand over where his fingers just ghosted over the material of your panties. You lick your lips and watch him as he takes the call. He looks over the screen at the contact, his eyes shift to you. He’s hesitating. Not because he’s left you hot and heavy on the kitchen counter, but because he’s shielding his phone from you.

So help me god, motherfucker, if I find out you’re cheating on me, I will-

Your nerves are settled when he huffs and swipes right to answer the call. “‘ey Tommy.” After a beat, Joel rolls his eyes to himself. “Yeah, yeah, thanks. Just another day.”

Your eyes blink slowly. It was his brother you had yet to meet. You hum lightly as you sink your hand past the band of your panties, soft lace grazing your knuckles while you slip your fingers between your delicate folds. You slowly pry open the one foot you have kicked up on the counter, spreading your leg wider so Joel can see you playing with yourself. He’s still not looking. You need his attention.

“Yeah, we can do somethin’, if that somethin’ means you’re payin’ for beers at the bar.” He said with a tired, but playful smirk. You’re growing so wet at the sight of him. Your fingers make a squelching noise as you slowly push two fingers inside your aching hole. This catches his attention.

His head whips to you like a prowling lion hearing a twig snap. His eyes narrow on the target of the noise before they dart up to you. You know that look.

Take your hand out of your fuckin’ panties. Don’t you fuckin’ touch yourself.

You cock your head with an attitude. “Say it with your chest.” You pipe up, so loud that the voice on the other line chirps in.

“Who was that?” You smirk at the attention Tommy’s already given you.

“Hi, Tommy!” You shout, and now Joel’s really pissed. He comes up and clamps his hand over your mouth, glaring daggers into your big doe-eyed pupils.

“Is that your girl, big brother?”

Joel’s jaw clicks tighter, his breath coming out in hot, annoyed puffs through his aquiline nose.

“You hidin’ her from me? Invite her to drinks tonight!” Tommy shoots out the invite before Joel can take it away. You slowly lick up the hand that’s holding your mouth hostage. Joel is used to this. He only adds more pressure to his hold on your mouth.

He glares at you and juts his jaw around in annoyance, considering Tommy’s offer. “Yeah.. yeah, we’ll see,” Joel murmurs while you keep tonguing his hand. He gives your face a little slap, a stupid moan escaping your lips before he grips your cheeks again once more and covers your mouth.

Don’t forget who’s in charge here, little bitch.

You hum quietly against his hand and wrap your legs firmly around his hips. He stumbles forward half a step. You can feel his hardened length protruding from his gray sweats, your cores lightly grinding against one another as you purposely whimpered against his palm.

Not long after, Joel ends the phone call with Tommy, and he begrudgingly releases his slobbery hand from your mouth and pushes back from the hold you attempted to lock him in. You huff as he leaves the kitchen, watching as he rakes his fingers up and down his beard and gently scratches at the skin. What was up with him?

“We’re going out for drinks tonight?” You pester after you both have taken a shower for far too long, the steam fogging up his mirror and making Joel’s skin a light rosy pink.

He lets out a short sarcastic chuckle. “I’m goin’ out tonight. You’re stayin’ here.”

You frown as you look Joel over, his stern facial expression matching his tone.

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, I’m going out tonight. With you. This is the third time I’ve tried to meet Tommy in person and-”

“And nothin’.” He intercepts, venom dripping from his words that makes your throat become scorching hot with anger.

You have a hard time letting this go. Especially since whenever Tommy was in town, Joel magically came up with every excuse in the book to keep you from properly meeting his younger brother. Was Joel ashamed of you? He didn’t want Tommy to think that this was the type of girl Joel kept in his company. He didn’t want you to embarrass him. That’s always what it came down to.

You brushed past him, your shoulder laying a heavy hit to his arm as you fled the bathroom with haste. You enter his bedroom and find your bag carrying your clothes for the weekend. You pulled on whatever you could find as hot rage made your skin tingle.

“Where you goin’, angel?” Joel tries to half-ass console you, stopping your movements, taking the keys you had just dug out from the depth of your bag, and holding them up so tall they were out of your reach even on your tippy toes.

“Give them back, Joel.” You had a burning feeling in your chest, and Joel was fighting with fire.

He just shakes his head, his eyes looking over you with a tight jawline. “Need you to relax. Last time you got this pissed at me, you keyed half of my fuckin’ truck.” He muttered, your eyes narrowing on his as you crossed your arms.

“And I’ll key the other half if you don’t give me back my-”

“Keys?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow, wiggling the keychain with the cute dangly accessories on it and making you absurdly annoyed. You swallow a lump that’s growing in your throat. Joel sighs and cautiously brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek. You hate denying how comforting it is when his warmth courses through your body like this.

“Why won’t you let me meet your brother?” It sounds more whimpery than you intended, big soft eyes looking into Joel’s hardened ones. “I mean, I know we’re not anything serious, but we’ve been together for a while, and it’s your birthday, and I know that you hate that it’s your birthday, but I love your birthday, and I sort of love you, and I want to meet the people you care the most about.”

The room tenses as your eyes connect. Shit. That’s how you chose to tell him? That you sort of loved him? Fucking idiot.

Joel pauses before he starts slowly shaking his head, and your chin dips defeatedly. You think he’s shaking his head because he doesn’t feel the same way, he doesn’t sort of love you like you sort of love him. How could he? Your emotions for one another were a mangled mess. One night, you were fighting like cats and dogs, and both of your eyes lit up during the heat of yet another fight. Then the next night, you were begging him not to stop fucking you, to never leave you, to never betray the trust you had in him that you two had built together over time.

His thumb delicately courses up your cheekbone then gently across the arch of your chin. His hand moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in until you’re close enough he can set a delicate kiss on the crown of your head. This was what made it so confusing. Were you still fighting? Were you two making amends?

“You’re not meetin’ Tommy. Not tonight. That’s final.” His words are whispered but somehow still piercingly cold, his voice monotone and flat as he forbade you from meeting his brother. “Want you here when I come back so we can celebrate together. Just you and I.”

A frown etches into your features. More like so he could have a warm body to fuck on his birthday.

He brushes by you and starts his day like any other. He didn’t even say he sort of loved you back.

---

Did he really think you’d give up without a fight?

You managed to convince Joel that you were fine without meeting Tommy tonight, that maybe he just wanted some brotherly time together. He leaned into that shit-ass excuse like it was his last lifeline. He could care less about his familial bond, he just wanted you not to be fucking pissed off. But you were pissed off. And you looked hot pissed off.

You especially looked hot and pissed off in the skin-tight dress you wore, accompanied by the designer clutch Joel purchased for your last birthday.

You’d assume that the hardest part of your little plan was knowing which of the many bars Joel and Tommy could make their trek to. But Apple Air Tags came in a bundle of four, so you slipped one into Joel’s truck. What else were you going to do with the extra ones? Might as well put them to use.

You took a car service to the downtown Austin brewpub, Blue Owl Brewing. Let’s just say you were a bit dressed up for the establishment.

You spotted Joel sitting at a small table in the back, facing the entrance of the bar as you strolled in with a devilish smirk on your face. His large hand was nursing a tall glass of amber-colored beer, a wide and genuine smile on his lips as he jeered conversation back and forth with Tommy, whose back was to you.

You slowly made your way through the dark oak bar, Joel’s eyes connecting with yours almost immediately. He looked like he could break you in half the way his eyes narrowed on you. But Joel was smart. He didn’t let much of his anger or annoyance seep through, because the damage was already done and you were already here.

“Hi, Joel,” you innocently coo before resting your hand on his brother’s bicep. “You must be Tommy?” You ask with a smile so sweet it was probably giving Joel a toothache. He was taking a long, steady drink of his beer, the foam lightly frosting his mustache as he observes you with cautious eyes as you interacted with his brother.

Tommy looked starstruck by your beauty. His eyes don’t hold back from lightly grazing over your short dress and the exposed skin that accompanies it. “Aren’t you a beauty,” he pauses and looks to his brother with a small smirk of disbelief that his brother could bag a catch as hot as you. “You must be Joel’s girl he keeps me from.”

His comment makes you giggle, your hand cascading down his bicep to his forearm, your nails lightly adding pressure which makes Joel’s stature more domineering, even from across the table.

Tommy was younger, with medium-length dark curly hair and a mustache that mirrored Joel’s. But he doesn’t have Joel’s beard, the facial hair you’ve grown to love. His mouth carries a dangerous little smirk, and it hasn’t left since you joined their table. He was handsome, it was a family trait the two brothers shared.

“Please, sit down, beautiful.”

You hum softly at the compliment, watching as Tommy grabs a nearby barstool from a table close by and sits you down at the end of the table, between both Tommy and Joel.

“Joel, I thought you said your girl couldn’t make it out tonight?” Tommy inquires, waving down the waitress to come and get you a drink.

“Oh, did he?” You ask curiously, crossing one leg over the other and lightly leaning over the table as your breasts nearly spill out of your dress. Your eye contact with Joel was on fire. He was torn between chewing you up and spitting you out right here in the middle of the bar, or dragging you away and ripping off this too-short dress of yours.

You and Tommy were quickly buzzing with conversation. He was buying you cocktails and complimenting you every chance he could get. If you didn’t know any better, he was flirting with you openly in front of his older brother. Joel didn’t say much, a grunt here and there, a swift kick under the table to Tommy’s kneecap after he talked a little too much about the gorgeous curves of your body.

“Just can’t believe you are datin’ my brother, didn’t know he could score someone so-” As Tommy attempts to find the words, his warm palm settles on your thigh, dangerously high too. He takes an inch or two of your dress with it, and your breath snags in your throat. You can’t deny the jaded way you feel about it, feeling a hot flash course through your body as you feel your head flush with heat.

“Watch it.” Joel finally mutters coherently. Perfectly coherent. Like he needs Tommy to hear it crystal clear. No one touches you.

Tommy seems to like the rise out of Joel just as much as you do. Which is perhaps why you’re leaning into it.

“You’re too kind, Tommy, really.” You take his hand off your thigh and maneuver it back into his lap. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the one Joel has to deal with, not the other way around.” You tease, and Tommy lets out a drunk laugh.

“Trust me, gorgeous, if you were my girl, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. That was Joel’s first mistake tonight, leavin’ you at home.”

Your eyes soften, and you glance over to Joel. He’s damn near snarling the way he’s gritting his teeth and staring daggers into Tommy. You had never seen him so possessive before.

“That’s enough out of you,” Joel remarks as he heavily sets down the empty pint glass and shuffles his barstool back, letting out a screeching scrape.

“We’re leavin’,” Joel tells you, making your jaw tick tighter. Where did he get off telling you what to do?

“I don’t think I-”

“Now.” He says more seriously. The giddy feelings you shared with Tommy were now squashed under the weight of Joel’s boot. You decide to hop off the barstool and call it a night, for both of our sakes. You accomplished your mission, met Tommy and disobeyed Joel. So let’s leave while we’re ahead.

You turn to Tommy, who is also stepping down from the barstool and putting cash on the table to cover the tab. “It was nice meetin’ you, sugar. Take care of my big brother, will ya?” He asks as he settles his hands warmly on your waist and pulls you in for a kiss on your cheek.

Heat sets your body alight. Tommy was gentle, if not even a bit calculated with his movements. Why did all of a sudden you feel like the pawn in Tommy’s game rather than the other way around?

“Goodnight, Tommy.” You whisper with a tight-lipped smile, taking Joel’s hand and letting him guide you out of the brewery.

---

The ride home in the truck was quiet. Real fuckin’ quiet. You tried to be content just listening to the low volume of the radio or the soft rumbling of his truck. You went to switch the station off of country and more to something you liked, but Joel smacked the volume to mute, making you groan. You grew so bored that you started counting the random tar lines in the road, adding to the total with each one you passed over. You stopped counting after fifty, or so.

“Joel-”

“Enough.”

He doesn’t let you speak. It makes your blood boil.

“If you just-”

“I said enough, god dammit. Don’t you think you’ve done enough tonight?” His words cut sharp, and you feel as small as you did this morning. This morning after you confessed that you sort of loved him. He’s breathing in heavy puffs, and he’s driving faster as he tries to get both of you back to the house.

“Why are you going so fucking fast?” You finally ask. You’re already in deep shit, you don’t care about him telling you to shut up. He ignores you for a moment before you probe him again. “Joel?” You ask with an annoyed tone. His eyes finally meet yours in a quick glance.

“Getting you home and out of that fucking dress.” He mutters, his large palm reaching across and cupping harshly at your upper thigh. A whiny gasp leaves your mouth as his fingers dig deliciously into your flesh. So that’s what’s got him driving so damn fast.

He pries your leg open, and he takes one look at how beautiful you look. More importantly, he’s looking at your lacey panties.

“Red. Perfect for you. Like the fuckin’ devil.”

You smirk as you grip his wrist and guide his hand to your clothed mound, a weak sigh leaving his lips as he cups over the wet spot that was forming just for him. Joel didn’t have to put in much work for you to be on the edge for him.

“I fucking hate you, Joel.”

He puffs out another breath of air through his nose. His way of laughing lately.

“Fuckin’ hate you more, baby.”

He toys with your panties for the remaining minutes of the drive, your nails having sunk so hard into his arm that you’re drawing small bits of blood from the moon-shaped cuts.

He damn near hauls you out of the truck once you’re parked. You leap into his arms as soon as the two of you walk past the threshold of his front door.

You force him to walk blindly through the house. He’s easily holding you up by one arm as you tighten your legs around his waist, causing your dress to ride up from the tension. You kiss him in a clash of teeth and tongues. You’re both ferociously horny for one another. And he’s pissed.

“Flirtin’ with my brother all fuckin’ night? You have fun with that?” He mutters against your mouth, slamming you up against the wall with a thud as your breath nearly knocks out of you from the force. He takes the opportunity of you planted there to grab the hem of your dress and push it up and off your body. His mouth latches to your exposed breasts, a throaty moan leaving your mouth as your small fists take him by the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Fuck,” you let out breathily, throwing your head back against the wall and humming lowly.

“Answer me.” He ruts his hips up against your core, and you’re painfully aware of how naked he’s making you and how clothed he still is.

“He’s actually really nice-” He suckles harder on your nipple, forcing a hiss out of your mouth. “Think I might trade in my older model for something younger.” Your tone is teasing, but the words are enough to make him detach from your nipple, a sinister look wavering his features cold.

He sneers and tilts his head to the side and back before shaking his head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

He rips you from the safety of the wall, your hands quickly scrabble to his shoulders to keep yourself upright while he leads you up the stairs to his bedroom. His heavy boots thud menacingly. You try to hide your smile in the crook of his neck, leaving angelic kisses on his neck and marking him with your lipstick, knowing how good Joel is about to make you feel.

He tosses you onto the bed like a ragdoll, your bare body finds warmth in his sheets. You admire him from below as he pulls his shirt off by gripping the material at the back of his neck and hauling it off him in one swift motion. The sight alone makes your pussy ache and your insides churn.

God, he was so handsome. He had this soft bulk to his body that expanded from the hardened planes of his chest and toned tummy to the light bulge in his biceps. His chest hair was a sprinkle of dark black stippled with light grey hairs that became sparse before trickling to a thicker patch, creating his happy trail.

Holy fuck, he looked like he was going to devour you.

Joel wasted little time with formalities. He had your legs parted, the rough denim of his jeans grinding against your soft skin. His tongue explored your mouth while both of his palms massaged the supple plushness of your breasts. He was pinching your nipples between his fingers, making you whine into his mouth for relief while they hardened in his hold.

You slip your hands between your middles, fingertips gently trailing down to capture the button of his jeans and push down his zipper. You have to wiggle around a bit, as Joel is pinning you to the spot. You’re so desperate for him that it almost turns into a fight to get his jeans off. He tugs on your bottom lip, a light whimper leaving you upon tasting the metallic tang of blood fill your mouth.

You smack Joel’s arm until he releases you, huffing at him.

“Asshole.” You mutter.

He sneers at you as he places a delicate kiss to your lips in apology. “That’s what cunts get.” He mutters under his breath. The term makes you flinch, your hand coming up to give him a good smack across the face, but he captures your wrist and pins it back to the bed. You both eagerly consume one another in a desperate kiss. You think you see him smiling as he tastes the light scrape of blood he’s caused.

Joel moves his weight to his forearms and aids you in the ongoing war between you and his pesky jeans. With his weight off you, you easily push down his jeans and his black boxers, your feet pushing down the last of the material around his ankles. He sits back on his haunches, heavy hands gripping the sides of your panties as he pulls them down your legs, leaving you bare with him.

You immediately slip out of the hold he has on your wrist and put your hand between your legs. Your fingers move eagerly between your glistening folds and slick them up with arousal. He smacks your hand away and pins your wrist to the bed once more. So fucking disobedient.

Once he settles between you, a soft gasp escapes your lips once you feel his thick shaft landing heavily against your sex. He was thick and ready for the taking, his tip was red with anger and need.

“You were a real fuckin’ handful tonight.” He mutters, letting his tip slide up and down your glistening folds. You were not in the mood for teasing.

You grit your teeth and glare up at him. “I think Tommy agreed.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He growls, your chest rising and falling quickly. He takes notice as your body tingles with excitement.

“Such a pain in my goddamn ass sometimes, more trouble than your worth.”

“Why don’t you toss me to Tommy then, huh? That way I can see which Miller brother fucks me better.” You sneer, a sloppy smirk crossing your features. It’s harshly stripped from you as Joel takes your face and squishes your cheeks with the grip of his hand. Your eyes clench closed at the slight pain, feeling him angle your head to face him. He’s power-hungry.

“Open those eyes, pretty girl.” His voice is rocky and lust-filled, dangerous like gasoline. It takes a moment, but you flutter them open. You didn’t realize that you were holding onto Joel’s puffed-up biceps, hard as a rock under your hold.

He slowly scans you, up and down, weighing his options of how to handle you. The problem that you were. His little brat. “You wanna cum tonight?”

Your ultimate weakness. A sheepish whimper leaves your squished lips, trying to blink back the slight tears that are forming from his manhandling. Mascara stings your eyes, but you hold his eye contact, because he asked you to, because it’s Joel, and you’d do anything for him at the end of the day.

You manage an “Mhm, please.” Joel’s eyes soften as he comes back to you and your warmth.

He doesn’t say anything, just angles his hips just right since you two fit perfectly together and thrusts inward. The breath in your lungs is punched out, head grinding back into the bed as your chin angles to the ceiling. You hiss at the initial discomfort that his thick cock causes. He’s fucked you a million times, but there’s nothing better than the first thrust where you’re still adjusting to his size, his girth, his length, his everything.

The clamp his hand has on your cheeks eventually releases, shifting the weight back to his forearms as his head settles above yours. He places another gentle kiss on your lightly swollen bottom lip. His loving reassurance warms your body. He’s starting steady, honorably letting your arousal take the lead in getting you both lubed up. He feels like heaven coursing through your tight hole, making himself the perfect fit for you.

You wrap your arms around his neck a little too tight, bringing him down into you as he breathily laughs against your ear.

"Y'know, it's kinda hard to be rough with ya when you're bein' so sweet."

Your chest heaves with his words, a sudden and impactful sense of vulnerability passing through you. It makes you nervous. It makes your skin swelter with warmth and makes a bead of sweat form at your temple. You and Joel don’t have this type of warmth in your relationship. Warm in the sense of boiling, too hot, too much, screaming and shouting and fighting and kissing. Not this. Not the gentle thrusts lightly rocking into you, letting you adjust to him, pulling him in for a gentle embrace as you capture him in a needy hug.

You’re not the I love you type, yet you said it to him this morning. Sort of. You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly shake your head.

You remind yourself that he didn’t say it back this morning. He wasn’t saying it now. Was he just using you? No.. no, it wasn’t that. But he wasn’t going to let you meet his family. He wasn’t going to say he loved you. He wasn’t going to marry you if that’s even what you wanted right now. It wasn’t. But you couldn’t deny you thought about your future with Joel. Even with all the fighting, the anger, the jealousy, it was all out of love. But maybe that love was one-sided.

The arms you had draped around his neck turned into sinking your nails into the base of his back. You slowly began scraping them upwards and forming long, raised red lines in their path. Joel grunts and hisses at the burn he’s feeling, broad shoulders tightening and his hips snapping into you more ferociously now.

Your lower lip trembled with anger, but you didn’t let him see as you pushed his head down to your breasts. He took the hint with a broken moan as he suckled a bruise on your collarbone.

The pain of his thrusts turned into numbing pleasure, his tip kissing your cervix with each and every heavy snap of his thrusts.

“Fuck yeah, Joel,” you moan. You stroking his ego only makes his movements more methodical, one of his hands pushing your leg down onto the bed rather than snaking around his waist and exposing you to a new angle that left you searching for air. Joel returns his forehead to rest over yours, both of your sweat glistening. You stare into his eyes, and all you feel is anger and regret for saying you loved him. He was fucking you so good too, you both had never gone as slow as you had at the start. It was twisting the coil inside of you so smoothly, that your brain was getting foggy.

You moan into his ear, revenge and regret swirling inside of you like an insidious tornado. Your eyes flutter close in pleasure as you feel your orgasm begin to approach. “Fuck me, Tommy.”

It hits Joel like a ton of bricks. All his movements pause. He pulls away just half an inch and stares down at you. A cold, downright mean look crosses his face once you’ve popped your eyes open to take a look at him. The room suffocates you in silence.

“What did you say?” His voice is slow, slick with a cursed concoction of lust and fury.

Too far. Way too fucking far.

You pause as you try to recollect yourself, having just been nearly blinded by your approaching orgasm. “I- I said Joel,” Now you were just trying to convince yourself that you didn’t accidentally or not accidentally just moaned his brother's name in bed. “I-”

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.” He mutters, chest puffed up and muscles straining with veins like thick rivers coasting up his arms.

He starts slow. His hand shifts to fasten around your throat, and with each word that leaves him, his grip tightens. “Tell me… what you said.” He speaks through gritted teeth, eliciting a whimper from you as he snarls.

You swallow a lump in your throat, cold goosebumps flooding over your previously scorching hot skin. You were starting to feel the neglect from his lack of thrusts, whining softly as you tried to grind your hips up into his.

His large palm slams into your hip with force and pins you to the bed, letting out a whine of annoyance.

“You want Tommy fuckin’ you instead? Huh?” His jaw is tight and only clicking tighter as he stares daggers into you. Fuck, you were only flooding him with more of your arousal. You purposely flexed your tight walls around the swell of his cock.

“N-No, Joel -- fuck -- want you.” You whimper out as your hands soften on his shoulders, and you gently cup his face. He shakes his head loose of your hold, annoyance and anger still shooting up his spine.

“I don’t think you do, pretty girl, think you want someone else. Tommy.” His hips were thrusting again, harsh snaps that physically rocked your body up the bed with force that made your jaw drop. Fuck he felt so damn good. The lack of air was making your head swirl.

You took in a sharp breath as he manhandles your face once more, forcing you to look at him. “Dirty fuckin’ slut, you want both of us, don’t you?” Well, you can’t deny the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. He licks his lips before he spits on your face, lathering you in his saliva as you gasp in shock.

“J-Joel,” your words can’t come out smooth with how roughly he’s fucking you. His hips are slamming your thighs, and the bedframe is smacking the wall with all his might. “Fuck-ing- shit,” you throw your head back now up into his pillows and try to grip onto the sheets to maintain your position. That coil that was smoothly coursing you towards a gentle orgasm was long gone, as was Joel’s right mind. Now the coil was tightening and nearly breaking, your mind going blank and seeing stars.

“Say my name,” Joel grunts, his hand coming up and smothering the saliva he spat on your face. It runs black with your mascara tears and messy red lipstick before he brings his hand back to your throat.

You breathe heavily as your mind tries to connect syllables and make a coherent word. “I- I..” You can’t focus, and Joel punishes you for it. He spits on you again, hot and warm on your face, and all you can picture is if it was his cum showering you instead. “Fuck!” You shout at him. He takes the opportunity of your mouth open to speak, forcing two fingers inside.

“Suck’em, pretty little bitch,” Joel mutters, watching you with eyes from hell.

You whimper and suckle around his fingers, trying not to choke on them, focusing all your energy on trying not to get in more trouble. You line your tongue up and down both digits, tasting him, tasting Joel. He pulls his fingers from you with force and leaves your own saliva dribbling out of your messy mouth and down your chin.

He puts his slimy fingers to use and starts slowly circling your clit. Your eyes light up, wide, and you grip onto his bicep for desperation. “P-Please, too much, Joel,” you whimper, feeling the coil close to snapping as he starts doing precise figure-eights on your swollen nub. It was all too much.

“Say my name,” Joel says on repeat, your glassy eyes only being able to focus on him, just like he wanted.

He starts marking you with his mouth, ferocious teeth nipping at the sensitive skin along your breasts and collarbones, so harshly that they burn once he’s done, and covering you in red and purple splotches.

Joel’s grunting above you, withholding his own orgasm as another form of torturing you. “Say my name, god dammit, tell me who owns this fucking pussy.” He spits on you, mean and hot, and he’s all you can see, all you can think.

Say my name. Say my name. God dammit, say my fucking name.

“J-Joel!” You cry out his name and clench your eyes closed, but he doesn’t slow his thrusts or his fingers. “Fu-Fuck me, Joel, keep fucking me good, Joel, Joel, Joel- fuck!” you swallow down the lump in your throat as you see his goading smirk, his hips slamming you with all he’s got.

“Come on baby, want Tommy t’hear you, want the whole damn neighborhood t’hear you-- shit,” he mutters, eyes clenching closed as your walls flutter around him in a nearing orgasm.

“Say my name!” He shouts, and you cry out in pleasure.

He was like God, your God.

“Joel!” You cry out. The coil snaps, and the curtain falls down. Your back arches, and you throw your hips into Joel’s, fisting the sheets and dipping your eyes closed again as you let out a moan that shakes the entire house. Joel’s not long behind you, he paints your walls white in adoration, load after load marking your walls as his own, no one else's.

A few minutes pass and he’s still buried inside of you. You look psychotic, fucked dumb and raw. “I’m yours, Joel.” You say barely above a whisper, desperate eyes searching his own for warmth.

You’re twitching below him, overly exerted and tired. You’re motionless, half-dead under the man who resurrected you. He’s panting heavily from doing all the work per usual. His mouth is agape, trying to catch his breath as your numb limbs lie in place while he pulls out of you. He’s dripping with your arousal-cum mixture. Oh, but he’s not done. He kneels on the bed and smacks his hand against your pussy before cupping it.

It makes your eyes widen, and you let out an overstimulated cry at the feeling. You quickly shake your head, grip his wrist, and meet his eyes with a pleading expression. “N-No Joel, can’t -- fuck -- can’t do another one right away, give me a sec baby-”

“Do you know why I didn’t want Tommy to meet you?” His words ram your numb brain senseless.

You whimper as he’s already starting slow circles on your clit, goosebumps forming once more. You muster up a shake of your head.

No. No, I don’t know why you won’t let me meet your fucking brother, the question has been gnawing at me all damn day, though.

“When we were younger, Tommy had a bad streak of sneakin’ off with my girlfriends.” He did? You had no idea. Joel’s voice is deviously quiet during his story-telling, wrecked with residual anger and desire for you.

His thumb takes over massaging your clit, feeling both his index and middle finger slowly curl their way into your entrance. Your head nudges back against the pillows again, releasing a string of whimpers as he works you up again. He’s pushing his cum back inside of you while his fingers squelch.

“He was flirtin’ with ‘em, harmless at first, ‘til he decided he wanted ‘em for himself.” Your jaw tightens as he moves his thumb faster on your clit, angry that you let Tommy manipulate you into getting a rise out of Joel, just like he used to. He was using you as a pawn tonight.

“Got into so many damn fights over it. S’why my nose is a lil’ crooked. Tommy broke it with a punch, fightin’ about some girl I was seein’ in my twenties.” You frowned. Stop talking about your other girlfriends, Joel.

A quiet whimper left your lips as your pointer finger came up to brush along the light curve of his nose that you loved so much.

“Don’t feel bad for me, angel. I broke his goddamn arm for fuckin’ me over like that.” He had a dangerous smirk on his lips, one that you liked, one that made your heart race as he circled your clit even faster and started massaging your walls with his thick fingers.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whispered, the heated coil in your tummy churning again out of the protectiveness and jealousy he felt for you today.

“He’s never met any of my girls since, so when I saw you walk into that bar..” he trailed off and started shaking his head. Your clit pulsed anxiously under the pad of his thumb, biting down harshly on your bruised and bloody lip. “Would never let him take you away from me. Never.” Your heart gushes for him.

“I’d never leave you, Joel,” you lightly whimpered, your body twitching and writhing under him. He shook his head and gently shushed you, cupping your cheek with his free hand. Your glassy eyes watched him in adoration, seeing crooked stars in your vision as you felt another orgasm heatedly approaching.

“Should’a told ya sooner. And you should’a stayed home. Listened to me for once,” He told you in a warning tone. You swallow the lump in your throat and gently nod, your thighs shaking against his legs that pinned yours wide open.

“S’why when I saw ya in the bar, knew I had t’take you home and make you mine, devil woman.” He muttered with a small smirk. The nickname made a desperate smile trickle on your lips.

“Yeah?” You said in a sheepish whimper, your walls fluttering around his fingers that were gently exploring your insides, leaving you so close to cumming again. It was too fast, and too damn hot in the room, but Joel was making you his, and that’s all you were going to focus on.

“So what d’you say?” He asks, raising a curious eyebrow.

“‘M sorry.” You muster up. “I-I’m sorry, Joel,” He’s got you panting for dear life as your thighs twitch while you near closer and closer to the edge.

He slowly shakes his head. “And what else, pretty girl?”

You cock your head and furrow your brows at him, unsure of what he wants you to say next.

“Say my name, tell me you love me again.” His fingers abandon your entrance and solely focus on pleasuring your clit, going so fast, too fast. His head comes down by yours, resting his forehead against your temple as your eyes force themselves closed.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whimper.

“Look at me, baby.” He whispers to you, placing light kisses by the corner of your eye to bring attention to him.

Your long lashes flutter on your cheeks before your fucked out face turns to Joel. “I love you, I love you, Joel, I love y-you- fuck,” you moan out loudly, throwing your head back and grinding your hips up into his hand. You do love him, the sick bastard that he was.

Your second release is only minutes from your last; it sparks you like a firework, and you feel your bones tingle. This man was not one to contend with. But you did anyway because you loved him.

You come down from being overstimulated. He plays this mean game where he grazes his fingers as light as a feather on different parts of your body, watching as your muscles and body twitch from being short-circuited.

“Fuck you.” You murmur.

His feet find the floor, his cock still hanging by his thighs, drenched in residual slick. He disappears into the bathroom, and you hear the faucet run. It rings in your ears, still trying to center yourself after being fucked to oblivion tonight.

You didn’t realize your eyes had fallen close until you heard his feet padding towards you as he approached with a warm washcloth. You hum softly gently wipes your face from his spit and your mucky mascara before he rotates the washcloth and wipes at the inside of your thighs. You’re still a little sensitive, you can’t help but let your face twinge.

He’s careful as he makes sure you’re clean, catching any residual spill. He tosses the washcloth into the laundry basket before he goes searching in your bag for something you can wear.

“Joel?”

He pauses his movements. “Already know what you’re gonna say.” You instantly smile and observe him. He was so handsome.

He stops looking through your bag for clothes and moves to his closet. He takes his time choosing what he wants you to wear, which makes you giggle a little bit from bed. You’re motionless, with no energy to move or even roll over. Barely enough to speak.

He settles on a Metallica band t-shirt, at least twenty years old, with the cotton perfectly soft and worn in. He moves to his dresser and fishes out a clean pair of boxers. They were the most comfy to wear, you had to admit. Panties were to show off your ass before sex. Boxers were for after all that was finished.

“You okay?” he whispers, to which you slowly nod. He’s always been so good with aftercare, even after a full day of arguing followed by a full night of fucking.

The boxers are soft as they coast up your legs, and he settles them on your hips. The band reads Calvin Klein. You muster up enough strength to sit up on your elbows, and he helps you put the baggy shirt on. It messes up your hair, and he tries to smooth it over, which makes you bubble up a laugh. “It’ll just get all messed up when we sleep, but thanks,” you whisper before falling back into his pillows once again.

Joel smirks widely before he lays down tiredly beside you on his front, like a big giant collapsing with a large huff. Your hand travels gently up his back, seeing the raised and jagged lines your nails had caused, your anger had caused. His jaw twitches, but he doesn’t let you know he’s feeling pain.

“Joel?” You whisper and work up the energy to shimmy closer to him, your foreheads gently resting together.

“Hm?” He murmurs.

You feel shy all of a sudden, still vulnerable. “Happy birthday, Joel. I love you.”

He slowly smiles, a sense of pride flooding his body as he pulls you in closer to him by your hip. He gently glides his thumb across your swollen bottom lip and kisses you lightly. “I love you, too. No matter how much of a brat you are.”

You slowly grin and close your eyes as your heads rest beside one another.

“Oh my god.” You mutter to yourself. Joel pulls his head away to look down at you.

“What is it, angel?”

You groan lightly and hide your face in your hands. “The cake! I left it out all day, it’s probably dry as fuck now!”

Joel lets out a puff of laughter, stroking your sweat-soaked hair away from your face. “S’okay, wasn’t gonna have any, anyway.”

“Yes, you were.” You huff, your finger gently gliding down his nose once more before you gently kiss the tip in adoration.

He hums softly at your decent behavior. “Good girl.”

---

masterlist

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#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #therapist joel #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #hellishjoelrequest #joel miller x reader

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