#tree removal Texas

[madaraservingcunt]

[texastreeexpertss]

For reliable tree services in Houston, TX, trust Texas Tree Expert. Our team offers expert tree trimming, removal, and maintenance to keep your property looking great and safe. Whether you need emergency tree removal or routine care, we provide professional and affordable solutions. Contact us today for all your tree care needs in Houston!

[chrisstumps05]

"You Won't Believe How Lucky I Got on This Tree & Stump Grinding Job!"

[g2web]

So I sent my client Jim Chase at www.treewizards.com aka The Dallas Tree 🌳 Doctor…… a text about what chambers and biz networking groups for @foxquestinc to join in Garland! And this is what he texted back!

“Biz Netwkg Group?

Hey Jennifer!

U r the only group im in. Ur as good as 3 groups!! Cheers! Jim”

This made my day!!! 🙏☮️❤️

@whiterocktreewizards

[keepbirdieweird]

oh i actually have some additions to this in tags :D

hi y'all, it's birdie, conservation management is part of my degree plan-

A sketch of Gov in the new episode 🐶! I always kinda imagined Gov to look pretty much how he is portrayed in the episodes tbh so I never bother to make him that much of a separate design 🤔 BUT also this is an excuse to educate y'all on federal land. It will be under the cut for those who wanna learn.

What does Federal Land mean for a state?

Well, this is something I think a lot of folks in here (the fandom) needs to know, because I just see people jump to conclude Gov is horrible towards Nevada. That is not the case.

This is just the basics, but federal land literally just conserves, manages, and protects natural resources and wildlife. For example, national parks are federal lands. You'd notice this because of how western states tend to have more wildlife than the east. And how federal land is mostly administered by agencies such as the BLM, FWS, NPS, and USFS, which all are catered towards handling wildlife and resources.

Federal land also tends to consist of land that states cannot easily manage or utilize, which for Nevada it's pretty easy to notice, as most of Nevada is semi-arid and desert, meanwhile land more available to use, like by rivers and other water sources are not usually federal land.

Historically, up until 1976, you could easily just claim a homestead of hundreds of acres! The Federal Government just ended up taking what nobody else really wanted because they couldn't live there anyways. It's why Nevada has so much Fed Land, and now that land is managed by agencies; and in Nevada's case, most of it is under the Bureau of Land Management. This is why Nevada's population only resides in no more than 20% of the land. Because they bought it as they could use it and live in it, even then they don't use much of the full 20% that is accessible to them.

And it's not as if federal land is completely off-hands, people hunt, hike, camp and fish in federal land all the time! Take Alaska for example, who's 60%+ federal land, in terms of Alaska's size that's a LOT of land, yet Alaska is one of or the best state when it comes to fishing and hunting either way, and Alaska's natural beauty remains largely untouched and unbothered (at least directly).

There is also the fact that if a crime is committed on federal land, it instantly becomes punishable to a higher degree than it would on state grounds, as it becomes of federal interest.

So no, Nevada being 80% federal land isn't bad for him. It's just Gov taking up and protecting what Nevada can't really utilize or manage easily.

[texastreexpert]

Do You Need Houston's Best Tree Trimming Service?

Looking for the absolute tree trimming service in Houston? You've come to the right place! Our tree trimming service stands out for its meticulous attention to detail, ensuring each tree not only looks its best but also remains healthy and robust. With a team of experienced and passionate arborists, we are dedicated to providing unparalleled care for your trees. Leveraging advanced tools and techniques, we cater to the specific needs of each tree, fostering growth and enhancing aesthetic appeal.

[neolithicsheep]

I've been meaning to write this down for some time because there are some fundamental errors that people keep making in crowdfunding/sales that shoot their campaigns in the foot. So here's a list of easy principles.

Who am I and why should you listen to me? I am a freelance chaos marketer who has raised well over $100,000 when totaling up various crowdfunding campaigns, mostly for aid to Afghanistan. In addition I've managed to successfully market everything from stuffed plush koalas to hydration salts. Why am I putting this out here for free? Because despite a years long track record of success in social media marketing no one will hire me because I don't have a college degree, so I might as well help people out who can't afford to hire full time marketing. 

If you'd like to hire me to help you evaluate your marketing and sales and teach you better skills on a 1 to 1 basis then hit me up, I am often willing to barter, esp with artists in a variety of mediums! 

Anyway on to HOW TO CONVINCE PEOPLE TO GIVE YOU MONEY:

TL;DR: use positive messaging that humanizes everyone involved and make it as easy as possible for people to give you money.

1. Shame and guilt are demotivators. They will not inspire people to give you money. “Why aren't people helping” “I guess people don't care” “This isn't getting enough shares/donations” etc etc. Online fundraising is often frustrating, heartbreaking, and will make you angry, especially when there's a humanitarian crisis involved. It is critical that if you are raising funds for someone else that you have a place to vent that is not the audience you would like to donate to the cause. 

2. Use motivating messages instead! “You can help!” “Even a small donation is important because it tells Recipient they're not alone, and people care” “We can't fix the whole world, but we can make this one thing right, and that means something”. Emphasize that this is a problem that the reader can help fix with even a small effort. With items for sale, tell a story. "I drew this thinking about how safe I always felt under a tree in my childhood backyard". "I chose the colors in this shawl to remind me of sagebrush and piñon pine in my favorite place."

3. Make it easy for people to give you money. Never talk about your product or cause without a link that leads directly to where people can give you money. They should be able to click one link on your post and land at the fundraiser or your shop. Every required click is going to lose people, so minimize the number of them required. This also means if you have a list of fundraisers for people to choose from the ones at the bottom will be neglected - people will hit the ones at the top. Be sure to take those off when they're met or periodically shuffle the list around to make sure everyone gets a chance to be in the first 5 spots. In online stores people will often only look at the first page or two of items so be sure to shuffle things around and remove out of stock items that are taking up prime real estate.

4. Humanize the recipient - this can be tricksy when raising charitable aid because you don't want to be exploitative. But to use my last Afghan campaign as an example, “We need to raise $500 for an Afghan family” is less effective than “This Afghan family's home was damaged in heavy rains that caused extensive flooding. They only need $500 to repair and rebuild so they can stay in their home and not become displaced.”  If possible, tell as much of the recipient's story as they consent to. Eg “Fred is seven and loves dinosaurs. His favorite is brontosaurus, and he carries a stuffed one with him everywhere. He wants to be a paleontologist when he grows up and discover a complete brontosaurus skeleton that he can give the same name as his stuffed friend. Unfortunately he's also a trans boy living in Texas and his family needs $1500 to rent a Uhaul and get to Colorado so he can grow up in safety and do that.”

5. If you're not the recipient, humanize yourself while you're at it! “I'd be really grateful if you all could share or donate” “This fundraiser really means a lot to me because…” “Thank you so much for any help, whether sharing or donating” 

6. Treat the audience like humans. Speak to them like they are people you're having a conversation with, not ATMs. This ultimately is the goal of not using shame/guilt and humanizing yourself and the recipient. 

7. Set low goals and bump them up when met. One of the weird things about people is they prefer to give to successful fundraisers. Yeah I don't know either. So you're more likely to get the full amount you need if you set a partial goal initially and then raise it when that's met. Raise it in small increments and raise it repeatedly as those goals are hit to keep momentum going. You can't always control this so if you're boosting someone else's fundraiser you can do it artificially via asks like “Hey y'all can we get together and put $500 on this?”

[texasexperttree]

Tree Services in Houston TX | Tree Care Experts Houston | Texas Tree Expert

Texas Tree Expert is a family-owned tree service with over 20 years of experience. We provide affordable tree service, tree cutting service, tree trimming service, tree removal, tree landscaping, tree demolition service, tree emergency, and tree pruning in Houston, TX. Call Us at +1-8325518438.

[hardlyinteresting]

On The Beach

Jake Seresin x Reader

 “Jake Seresin! You better not be doing what I think you’re doing!” Shirtless he backs towards the ocean continuing to remove his shoes, socks and pants, “And what do you think I’m doing, Sugar?”

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, nudity, idiots in love, (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please),I grew up in an Army household so some of my Navy knowledge may be slightly off base (no pun intended)

This one-shot will exist in the same universe as other one-shots I have planned. But, they can all be read entirely independently.

Word count: 2K Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

July had been unforgiving with heat; sweltering days, broken up by occasional rains that cooled the air but left behind intolerable humidity. August was built up as a promise of relief but instead, she steamrolled the record-setting temperatures of July with her own. 

95°F felt like some kind of cruel trick already, but the air conditioning at The Hard Deck cutting out halfway through a shift was a new kind of torture entirely. 

She’d been quick to help Penny to open up all the doors and windows to all the mild relief of the ocean breeze blowing through, bringing in a flood of daylight so uncommonly seen inside the cozy bar. 

The ice machine set to work overtime, fresh kegs of beer ready to pour by the time the usual crowd of regulars began to pile in. Stripped down to a tank top and shorts she ties her hair up to keep it off the back of her neck, desperate to get through this shift in one piece. With just the two of them behind the bar, she does her best to keep up with the seemingly endless pile of orders, reminding the pilots and veterans to take a glass of ice water as well. 

“Hey Sugar,” Hangman flirts leaning against the counter. It’s not fair that he looks so cool and collected, his khaki uniform still perfectly pressed, his hair neatly styled while she thinks she might be melting with the feeling of sweat on her back. She’s sure she looks a mess, but Hangman doesn’t take his eyes off of her as he waits for her to take his order. 

Jake is certain that despite the shower he took on base, he still smells like jet fuel. The hottest day of the year might not have been so bad under the shade of a big tree back home, a soft breeeze blowing through the branches of sweet-olive trees. He'd spent enough summers in Texas to know how to muck through the dog days. But on base, the heat radiates up from the black top tarmac, threatening to melt the soles of their issued boots. Up in the air, the glass canopy of the cockpit feels like a magnifying glass; doubling both the discomfort of intense flight training, and the intensity of the sun's contributions to the torrid day. 

Stripping off his flight suit and stepping into a cold shower had been a relief, matched only by the promise of a beer at The Hard Deck to end the week. 

The doors and windows were open when he arrived, a wall of humid and stagnant heat rolling from inside the establishment nearly had him turning around to head home before he spotted her. Sugar, with her hair pulled back, sweat gathering across her collarbone and chest, white tank top clinging to her in ways he previously could only imagine. She's a sight for sore eyes, and now leaning against the bar he has no intention of going anywhere else tonight. 

“Beer?” she asks him. 

He nods his confirmation, “bottle please,” he adds. “It’s hot in here today”. 

“AC broke,” she sighs, “Mav is up on the roof trying to fix it now”. 

“I’m not sure there’s much he can’t do,” he shrugs, “Drink some water. I can’t have you passing out, Sugar”. 

She does her best to ignore the flirtatious wink he throws her way. She knows he's a relentless philanderer, she's seen how quickly he can manage to find a date for the night. He's handsome beyond a doubt, and by far one of the kindest patrons she has, but she's not looking to be heartbroken. And friendship has suited the two of them just fine for the last few months, no reason to mess with a good thing. 

After two weeks of working at The Hard Deck, she'd finally given in to The Dagger Squad’s insistence that she join them at the pool table after her shift. Hangman had been a surprisingly gracious loser when she ran him out of 50 bucks. A few weeks later Jake and Bradley had thrown a drunk guy out of the bar when he'd given her a hard time and refused to pay his own tab let alone the rounds ordered at the sound of the bell. 

She had tried to thank him but he'd only given her a curt nod, “Nothing to thank me for, Sugar”. 

So she smiles back at his teasing grins, laughs at his jokes, and blows kisses and he playfully pretends they knock him over. It’s easy, it’s fun. “I know you’re just trying to keep your heart in one piece,” Penny tells her, “but don’t break his either”. 

No one sticks around too long, too tired, and far too warm to take up their usual challenges at the pool table. The sun has gone down by the time Mav comes in to let Penny know he had no luck fixing the AC unit before stopping by the table Bob, Coyote, and Hangman have settled at. Hangman has stripped down to his white undershirt, the T-shirt clinging to his chest and back, the sleeves drawing her attention to his arms that she's caught herself staring at too often to count. 

“Heading out?” She asks when Hangman comes up to the bar, getting ready to close out his tab, “You only had one beer tonight”. 

He nods, “Well, it'd be irresponsible for me to have more. I'm giving you a drive home”. 

She grins, slipping the bill across the counter, “I don't remember you asking me”. 

“Mav’s orders,” he answers easily, with a seriousness that makes her think he really isn't just joking with her. 

“Penny's actually, I was just the messenger,” Maverick holds up his hands in innocence. 

Penny calls last call early, before dismissing her for the night, “cool off. Go home,” she instructs leaving no room for argument. 

The night air feels lighter, though not as refreshing as expected, the breeze cooling the tack of sweat against her balmy skin. The sound of the ocean meeting the beachside echoes in the uncharacteristic quiet. She breathes out a sigh her head tilted back and arms out trying to make the best of the gust of wind blowing by. 

“C’mon,” Jake laughs, “I'll crank the AC for you”. 

She pouts a little in return. The glow from the fluorescent light inside the bar floods out across the deck patio, casting shadows out in front of them. He’s standing a good five feet behind her, but his bedimmed counterpart stretches out next to her own, overlapping as he steps closer. The moonlight shines brightly over the white sand below and it strikes her that despite working beachside all summer, she’s yet to step foot on the beach. Jake smirks, his head tilted towards the beach that's captured her attention. “Let’s go cool off,” his words a playful mimicry of Penny’s instructions.

Without protest, she follows him. His grin grows impossibly bigger, clearly pleased with himself as he watches her shuffle out of her socks and shoes, her footsteps so much smaller than his own, she struggles to keep up, but he never lets her fall too far behind. He moves quickly in the dark, the sand still warm underfoot. Nearing the water's edge he slows his pace. She’s gorgeous in the moonlight. She’s always pretty. His usual coquetry shrinks on the tip of his tongue; lost to thoughts and curiosities about her favourite bands, and what might make her laugh. He’s found himself growing somewhat softer as he thinks back to the night he met her, watching her glide through the room oblivious to the attention she’d managed to capture. Her smile lit up the room as she danced with her friends. Her laughter was loud and uproarious, very near infectious. 

His white shirt hits the sand in an unceremonious pile by her feet. 

“Jake Seresin! You better not be doing what I think you’re doing!”

Shirtless he backs towards the ocean continuing to remove his shoes, socks and pants, “And what do you think I’m doing, Sugar?” “I think you're trying to get me to go skinny dipping with you!” He laughs, “I ain't trying. I'm succeeding”. 

There's not an ounce of shame, nor an ounce of clothing on him as he wades into the water, not turning around to look at her again until his in up past his waist. “C’mon,” he calls to her, “the waters lovely!” 

She's always considered herself to be pretty easy going. But the idea of stripping naked to join Hangman on this oceanic side quest leaves her stomach tied in knots. She's seen enough of him playing football with the squad that she's not shocked by his broad shoulders, nor the expanse of his chest. She knows that standing on the beach, in a tank top a shorts that cling to her the way they do, she has little to hide her own form. But joining Jake in the water will surely only add to the tension they've allowed to build between them. How different is the ocean from an expanse of bedsheets when you're standing naked with Jake Seresin? 

“You have to promise you won't look!” She calls to him, pulling her top up over her head. 

“I promise,” he says, “scouts honour !” 

“Boy scouts? I'm sure you sold a lot of cookies with all that charm of yours”.

She shimmies out of her shorts, hesitating in her bra and underwear. Jake stands with his back to her holding up his end of the deal. 

“Cookies are the Girl Scouts, Sugar,” he corrects, but she can practically hear him grinning, “but I did earn my fundraising activity badge selling tins of popcorn”. 

Bare, she makes a mad dash into the water, splashing as she works to cover as much of herself as possible. 

“So,” she smiles, “you come here often?”

Her voice is quiet as she hopes that the joke lands, her knees bent to keep her top half under the cover of the unlit water. She tries to play cool. Jake, to his credit, plays along without missing a beat. “I can't say I do, Sugar. The dress code is too loose for my taste”.

“Ah, yes, of course. I forgot you're known for being a prude, Hangman”.

A gentle, yet unexpected wave pushes into the shoreline, knocking her sideways. Jake is quick to wrap his hand around her upper arm, not letting her get too far. This close, it’s impossible to hide from the gaze of his warm green eyes. He smells like cedar and amber. Warm and clean. Beneath it, the smell of jet fuel lingers. She knows how hard he must try to scrub it from himself at the end of each day, and she wonders if it might just be in his blood at this point. Another wave pushes them closer together once more. 

He clears his throat, trying hard not to think about how close circumstance has brought them; he weighs the validity of fate but pushes it down deep inside certain that one day these unlabelled feelings might just explode in his chest. For now, he startles when a sudden splash of water is directed towards his face. Sugar feigns innocence, but starts to paddle away from him as he blinks away the water from his eyes. 

“Sugar,” he warns, “don’t start something you don’t want to finish”. His own hands, larger than hers cup more of the ocean's surface propelling it in her direction with a great slosh, the sound echoing on the empty beach.

Up on the deck, Penny and Maverick watch the two distant figures throwing water, their laughter audible even when their words aren’t.

“Do you think they know there are sharks in that water?” 

Penny shrugs, “Do you think they know they’re half in love with each other yet?”

[calmcoldevening]

I’m begging you for a part 2 of the knowing the slashers when they were younger fic where they meet when they’re older if you’re up for it ofc🙏

You knew slashers when you were a child and now you grow up and met them

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

TW: mention of blood, violence, stockholm syndrome.

Ps: english is not my native language, so sorry for misspells. And also i really didn't know what I needed to write about Sinclair, because i need to rewatch the movie to remember their characters, so i didn't write about them. I hope you'll enjoy our sweet Tommy and baby boy Brahms

Part one ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Thomas Hewitt

You just recently graduated from college and decided to celebrate it with a trip with your friends to one of the US states. The choice fell on Texas. You still had pleasant memories of your school life in this place in your heart, and your heart ached at the thought of how soon you left your hometown. Not that you would call these people friends, but you were good acquaintances and helped each other with tasks. And so you packed your bags and within half an hour you were all driving together in a small SUV. The boyfriend of one of your 'friends' (Jessica) was driving. He was a good man, although he joked about unpleasant topics from time to time. But you turned a blind eye to it. In the end, you will finally find yourself back in the good old Texas.

The road was long, so you had a lot of time to think. You were sitting in the farthest seat, staring into space and slowly stroking an old, slightly battered fox toy with your hand. Your thoughts revolved around one person. That shy little boy you had such a happy conversation with years ago. It was your first memorable friend. You no longer had friends who could surpass sweet Tommy.

Finally, the car turned at a sign with the inscription of a city you know. Your heart started beating faster and you couldn't suppress a smile in anticipation. Soon you will see him again, a sweet shy boy. Although now it will probably be a guy, after all, it's been almost twelve years. This figure was almost painful.

The Texas landscape flowed like a soft canvas on the other side of the window, the sun mercilessly burned his eyes, refracting through the glass. It was hot and stuffy. You're lucky to get into one of the hottest periods in Texas. This place has changed somewhat, although it remains the same as you remembered it. The once small plantings have now turned into real tall trees, although they did not save much from the sultry sun. The wheels of the car turned quickly on turns with an unpleasant sound, raising a cloud of dust behind them. Jessica's boyfriend, Tim, apparently loved playing racer very much, even on the main state road.

By all the laws of luck, Tim abruptly informed you that you were running out of gas. There was a gas station nearby. You entered a small diner next to the gas station, and your heart instantly warmed up. It was that sweet woman, Thomas's mom. Luda-May, isn't that right?

"Hello, Luda," you say with a slight smile, approaching the cash register. The woman looks up at you with a frown, peering at your appearance for a few seconds. Finally, recognition seemed to flash across her face.

"Y/N?" She asks dryly, her voice a little rougher than what you remember from childhood. You nod in response. A warm smile appears on Mrs. Hewitt's face and she hurries out from behind the counter, wrapping you in a gentle, almost maternal embrace. "God, girl.. I never thought I'd see you again. You've grown up so much."

"I'm so sorry that I left so quickly. It was my parents' idea, not mine."

"I understand, honey, don't worry. We've all missed you. Especially Tommy."

The mere mention of his name makes your heart ache. Tommy... You haven't seen him for so long. Your heart yearned for those beloved cornflower blue eyes. You reluctantly pull away from the cozy embrace of Luda, your hand reflexively reaches for your hair, removing a stray strand from your face when you understand the look at a woman.

"You still live there, don't you? Can I see him?"

"Of course, my girl. I've just finished. Hoyt should be arriving soon."

Hoyt? Your brain was carefully trying to find at least one mention of that name in your memory, but nothing came to mind. Strange. Although it may be one of their relatives or friends, after all, you haven't been here for too long, it couldn't have stayed the same, could it?

What was your surprise when that Hoyt turned out to be old Charlie. Although his appearance was now quite pretentious: sheriff's clothes, hat and badge. Something was wrong. This man has been lazy all his life, he could not suddenly decide to go to work in a place related to healthcare. But you chose to remain silent. Hoyt didn't seem to recognize you. When he saw your friends, he invited them to go with them, saying that he had a can of gasoline at home.

"Take the guys, and then you'll come for us. I don't think the sheriff's car can hold that many people," Luda intervened, grabbing your arm protectively. It's got you a little stressed out. Although there was some truth in her words. Five former students came with you, all of them obviously wouldn't have gotten into Charlie's car. The man wanted to say something, but gave up, nodding to the woman.

And so they left. All that time, Luda was asking about your life, enjoying listening to stories from college. She was more interested in this than your own parents. And now Hoyt is back. He was in high spirits. You got to the Hewitt house safely. As a child, as now, the building was still huge for you. Luda carefully led you into the kitchen, offering you tea. God, you've missed this place.

"Tommy! Come here, we have guests," Luda shouted and you heard hurried rustles and heavy footsteps from the basement.

It made you tense up a little bit. Finally, a couple of minutes later, a tall man, the size of an entire closet, entered the kitchen. Your blood turned cold. You slowly looked up. A long, tall body, wavy dark hair and a leather mask on his face. He frowns down at you, seeming to evaluate you with his cold blue eyes.

"Tommy?" As if nothing had happened, Luda-Mae asks in a cheerful voice, "Do you remember Y/N?"

It seemed that at that moment the gears were turning in his head. You needed time to think about it too. Was this huge man Thomas? No, of course, Tommy was a bit of a big kid as a kid, but he was still quite small. The only thing that attracted attention was his bandage on his face. Now it has been replaced by a strange leather mask.

You didn't even have time to think, as careful footsteps were heard from the basement. It seemed, but Tommy and none of the People were found at first. And Tim appeared behind Thomas. God, he was covered in blood and his back was bleeding. Your face is filled with pure horror. And that gave Tim away. Thomas notices your fear and turns around, immediately grabbing Tim roughly and dragging him back to the basement. Your brain screamed like a hunted animal that you needed to get out of here and urgently. Something has happened to this family, something bad, since they communicate with other people like that. But as soon as you tried to run to the exit, at that moment you were hit by something heavy on the back of the head.

His heart ached for you. You were the first person who ever showed him kindness in your life, and now you will surely be afraid of him. God, he wouldn't want to see fear in your beautiful eyes when you're afraid of him. His body was filled with an unpleasant feeling of disappointment and pain. He didn't want that, really. But he wanted to keep you by his side, he didn't want to let you go again. And he didn't want you to hurt the family. So now he was gently wiping the remnants of blood from your beautiful face, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. You were still as beautiful, his heart began to beat faster, as it did when he was a child. He saw that toy in your friends' car, you kept it all these years. Thomas couldn't help but smile. Maybe you loved him too? Not now, not after what he did.

The following days were a blur. Your head ached, and an unpleasant heaviness tightened your neck. They put you on a chain. Thomas or Luda would check on you from time to time, Luda would just leave food, and Thomas would just sit on the bed next to you and just look at you. Sometimes he would try to touch you, but you would instantly jump aside like a wounded animal. Thomas's heart ached painfully in his chest. Although.. He deserved it, didn't he? All his life he was looked at with disgust or fear. But he didn't care about those people. All these simple passers-by or victims were just empty meat. But you were afraid of him now. He couldn't stand your gaze, full of fear for your life, so he left the room every time, unable to look in your eyes.

The days slowly followed each other. You were still afraid. But there was something else. Whenever Thomas enters the room, your eyes involuntarily glided over his big strong body. You wanted to snuggle up to him, find comfort in his arms. But there was a part of you that knew it was wrong. They killed people, they killed your friends. They chained you up and kept you here like some kind of dog. And yet your body was begging for his warmth, just like when you were a child.

What was Thomas's surprise when the next time he came into the room, you crawled closer to him, asking for a hug. Your arms clumsily wrapped around his body. Thomas blushed instantly. His heart felt so good. He gently grabbed you by the hips, putting you on his lap, and hugging your fragile body with his strong arms. He buried his nose in your hair. How he missed that feeling. His brain was filled with the scent of your skin. Thomas let out a relieved whimper as you began to gently run your fingers through his tangled hair.

He never left you, he won't let you go into this cruel world again. He will protect you with all his heart. His sweet girl.

Brahms Heelshire

"Now I've won," the man says in a hoarse voice through his cracked porcelain mask with a doll's face.

He was breathing heavily, hanging over you, his left hand pressed against the wall behind you, while the other reached out to your face, gently stroking.

"Still beautiful," he whispers, caressing your chin with his thumb, tracing your lower lip with his fingernail. Your heart was pounding wildly, you shrank under the man's gaze like a frightened animal. His movements were rough, but his touch seemed almost gentle, as if he didn't want to disrupt this moment or harm your fragile being. His breathing was loud and heavy because of the mask, and the skin under his eyes was slightly reddened. And those eyes. Those warm eyes are the color of pure amber under the bright sun. They looked at you with extraordinary affection and humility. You could recognize those eyes out of a thousand. Like back then, fifteen years ago.

You nervously clutched the steering wheel rim with your right hand, counting the turns. Not so long ago, you managed to get a new job, and who would have thought that this job would be in your childhood home. Or rather, your friend. They always treated you like their own child, so they gave you this job without any problems.

The weather was clear, it was only the beginning of autumn. Some of the trees have already turned golden, their leaves rustling unobtrusively. The sky was clear, without a single cloud, so the sun shone brightly through the windshield of your car. It seemed that nothing could spoil your return to your childhood home.

Your heart was beating fast in your chest. The mind was filled with thousands of pleasant memories of your past together and children's laughter. You missed Brahms so much. It's been a long time since you've seen him.

Finally, after a couple of long hours, you arrived at the Hilsher estate. It remained the same. Obviously, Mr. Heelshire was still carefully tending the garden, growing his wife's favorite flowers. You stopped right next to the driveway, the wheels moving pleasantly on the gravel. After getting out of the car, you went inside without thinking twice. The greenery of this place has always been striking in its beauty, it seemed that no seasons had power over this place, the forests of the estate still gave pleasure with their emerald color and the coolness of the dense grove.

You were met at the very door by Mrs. Heelshire. She has changed a lot since your last visit, of course, the years take their toll. Her eyes were a little red and tired, and there were small bruises under them. Her face was unusually pale and her hair was gray, but not as when it happens from age, but when a person goes through a lot of life difficulties and faces stress.

"Honey, I haven't seen you for so long," the woman said smiling, wrapping you in a warm embrace. Her hugs were pleasant, but strangely nervous, "We were surprised when we received your candidacy for this job."

"I just really wanted to come back. My parents wouldn't let me go just like that."

"And for good reason," the woman mutters to herself, immediately turning to face you with a warm smile, "We always want only the best for you, my girl, don't hold a grudge against us."

Her words strain you a little, but you attribute it to her slight excitement before the long-awaited vacation. After all, for as long as you can remember, Mrs. Heelshire has always been a caring and hardworking woman, she didn't know the word 'rest'.

After ten tedious minutes, Mrs. Heelshire explains to you the set of rules and your responsibilities. It seemed like she was trying in a hurry to tell you everything at once. Her eyes were constantly darting around the walls of the house.

And now you're alone. Taking care of the doll was not so difficult. Although you still didn't understand why the doll had the name of your childhood best friend. No one's parents told you what happened to Brahms, you just moved in a couple of days before his birthday. You didn't even have time to give him the gift you made with your own hands. Years later, you felt guilty about it. But now, that feeling seemed to be gone. It feels like you're finally in your place. You're home.

It happened two weeks after your arrival at the manor. As usual, you were sorting out the groceries that Malcolm brought while the man was standing next to you, leaning against the doorjamb. He was watching you carefully, talking about something. To be honest, you've noticed for a long time how ambiguously he looks at you. All those jokes, compliments, touches and glances. He was flirting with you. But you could definitely tell that he wasn't your type. Damn it, he was overconfident. But in a relationship, you wanted to 'be at the helm', you wanted a guy with character, but definitely obedient. And Malcolm definitely didn't fit that description.

"..hey, can you leave this doll after all? Let's go to my place. I'll show you a lot of interesting things," he says with a sly grin, taking a few steps closer.

"The Heelshirs left me here for a reason, I don't want to undermine their trust."

"Come on, do you really want to spend the rest of your life in a house with just this doll?" The guy purrs, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your neck. You are annoyed by his behavior and you step on Malcolm's foot with force. He hisses and quickly pulls away. "Fuck, are you stupid?"

"Watch your mouth, boy."

Malcolm tenses up. He hears rapid rustling in the walls, his eyes darting around the room.

"The hell with you," he finally gives up. Malcolm grabs the empty boxes and leaves the house, slamming the door behind him. You're relieved. He seems to be a man, but he behaves like a scared boy.

"Y/N.. Did he hurt you?" A small child's voice comes from somewhere in the hallway. You flinch a little. You knew that voice. Brahms. True, his voice was a little different in childhood, now it was quieter and plaintive. You quickly close the refrigerator and slowly walk towards the source of the sound.

"Who's here? Brahms?"

It all happened too fast. At first, you were driven by interest with a little bit of fear. In an instant, you saw a tall, broad figure towering over you by a good two heads. You were scared. You ran away, hoping to hide from a stranger. And one day you were pinned against the wall by a muscular figure.

"Y/N, don't be afraid... I didn't mean to scare you." A child's voice mumbles plaintively. You look into those hazel eyes and your heart sinks.

"Brahms?" In response, the man only reaches out to your face, gently caressing your cheek.

"Now I've won." His voice changes. Instead of a child's voice, a low, hoarse voice now caresses your ears. You feel electricity running down your spine, you instinctively squeeze your hips.

Your hands reach for the porcelain mask, but Brahms abruptly pulls away. He shakes his head negatively. He didn't want you to see his face. He doesn't want you to be scared. He doesn't want you to leave him like the others.

"Come on, Brahms. You're a good boy. Didn't you love kissing?" You speak with a slight smile. A long-drawn-out whine comes from under the mask. He nods briefly. You lift the edge of the mask, covering his hot lips with your own. Brahms's movements are fast and assertive, he bites your lips, squeezing your waist in his hands. He missed you so much.

[texastreeexpertss]

Tree Removal in Houston: Ensuring a Safe and Healthy Landscape

Tree removal in Houston is something that needs to be taken seriously. Whether it is for the sake of safety, in control of disease, or making way, it is crucial to hire the best tree company possible to ensure that it is done right and without risks. With a certified and experienced crew, homeowners can protect their property and make their landscape look more aesthetic.

[tightjeansjavi]

Feeling more human and hooked on her flesh

Joel Miller x f!reader

NSFW 🔞

A/N: thank you @peterhollandkait for sending in a spicy ass prompt for these two 🥵 also thank you to @headspace-hotel for the original prompt! P.S. this piece can be read as a stand-alone, or filler chapter for ‘Burning in a Hopeless Dream’

Summary: after a close run in with some clickers while on patrol in Jackson, Joel is furious at you. The ride back to town is tense and once you arrive home, he wastes no time to strip you of your many layers. Growing increasingly frustrated, when he has to remove each one of your many concealed weapons before he can reach your skin.

~Word count: 5.0k~

Warnings: dark! joel, protective! joel, mean! joel,possessive! joel, you could have fuckin died! joel, swearing, tension, anger, mild violence, smut, consent, consent, consent, unprotected p in v (wrap it kids), sexual punishment, teasing, edging, cock warming, mentions of fingering, light choking, knife kink, praise kink, so many nicknames, angst, aftercare, some fluff, paraphernalia (puff puff pass) there’s a lot of filth. Like a LOT (+18) minors dni !

Songs used:

“Angel of Small Death” by Hozier

“Tonight You Belong To Me” by Patience & Prudence

“Tear You Apart” by She Wants Revenge

“No Good” by KALEO

“Devil’s Advocate” by The Neighbourhood

“Talk” by Hozier

You, Joel, and Ellie have been in Jackson for the past few months. The three of you have become immersed in community life. Joel, has been reluctant upon getting comfortable in this new domestic life. He’s used to being on edge constantly. Ellie is content working in the stables alongside Dina, while you and Joel patrol on horseback outside of town.

He doesn’t want to give up his natural protective nature just yet. He finds comfort in constantly having his gun by his side, and you of course. At dawn, the two of your ride out to your usual lookout point. It’s the dead of winter and you’re both heavily wrapped in many layers. The cold still manages to bite through to your skin. The horses don’t seem to mind the chill, or whipping icy wind. Their thick winter coats keep them warm, and you find yourself feeling jealous of their natural protection from the elements, just for a moment.

You both dismount from your horses and tie their reins to a nearby tree. Before you can grab your rifle from your pack, Joel is reaching for it. His shoulder brushing against yours and he feels significantly warmer than you.

“We’ll stick here for a bit. It was quiet the last time. Clickers must’ve moved on.” He held your rifle out to you, stealing a quick kiss.

“Sure as hell hope they have. It’s fuckin’ brutal out here. Freezin my tits off.” You were caught off guard when he had kissed you and you couldn’t help but grab him by the collar of his thick jacket and pull him back in for one more.

He grasped your waist and pulled you flushed against his chest. “This is how we get killed, darlin.’” He gruffly spoke against your lips, pulling away before things could get too heated.

You let out a low huff when you could no longer feel his radiating warmth against you. “Yeah well, that isn’t gonna happen, remember? You got me, and I got you.” You slung the strap of your rifle over your shoulder then.

He watched you closely then while he adjusted the strap of his own rifle. “Yea honey, you got me, I got you.” He gestured to the side, signaling you to walk in front of him, like the true Texas gentleman that he was.

As the two of you crept through the thick snow, rifles at the ready, doing your best to be as quiet as possible. There was always the possibility that the clickers hadn’t moved on like you both assumed. Better to be safe than sorry.

The surrounding trees grew thicker the further you walked. Suddenly, Joel was at your side, rifle aimed when he could hear the eerie sound of nearby clickers. A chill skated down your spine, it wasn’t from the cold of winter this time.

click click click

Joel turned his head towards you, his eyes locking on yours, holding your gaze as he brought his finger up to his lips.

The distinguishable low clicks were getting closer, and closer. You and Joel were both holding your breath as 3 clickers emerged from the snowy tree-line. Your finger was already hovering over the trigger. A damn branch snapping from the overloading weight of snow on it is what gave you two away.

It happened so fast, the clickers charged. Your rifle got jammed as one of the clickers ran at you, screeching. You were tackled through the snow, tumbling down the hill leaving Joel no other option but to deal with the other two clickers.

It felt like the wind had been knocked from you when your body finally landed at the end of the hill. You had no time to recover as the clicker was thrown ontop of you, you used your rifle as a shield, but when it was knocked out of your grasp and thrown to the side, you definitely panicked for a moment. You let out a scream filled with rage as you fought. Finally getting a grasp of your knife, you drove the blade into the deep cavern of the clickers neck. It let out a screech as thick, hot blood spurted through the gaping wound, splattering against your face. You pushed the once living creature off of your body, listening to it thump into the snow.

You were breathing heavily, wiping at your face as you sat up. The snow surrounding you was stained dark maroon. A stark contrast against the pure white fluff. Before you could even stand, you heard Joel yelling your name as he raced down the hill. He nearly stumbled a few times in his fury but when he reached the bottom, he was grasping the lapels of your jacket, yanking you upwards. His eyes were wide, frantic.

“Joel—”

“What the fuck was that?! Why didn’t you shoot?!” He had cut you off then as he started furiously checking for any bite marks. Pawing at your coat, pants, grabbing your face in his hands as he turned your head anxiously. His eyes were scanning your neck frantically.

“Joel! I’m not fuckin’ bit! My gun locked, I swear!”

He was holding your coat tightly in his hands again, he was furious. His brows were furrowed and his back was tense. “Your gun fuckin’ locked?! You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

Before you were even allowed to speak, Joel was yanking you up from the snow and into his arms. Holding you tightly to his chest. “You fuckin check your gun next time. Alright? You fuckin check it! Do you hear me?! For fuck sakes honey. Fuck!” His tone was harsh against your ear. Laced with the fear of the possibility of losing you.

You wrapped your arms around his broad covered shoulders as he hugged you tightly. He was pissed, he was radiating in anger. You could feel it through his damn thick coat.

“Joel, I’m sorry! I’ll check my gun next time. Okay? I swear I will!”

He muttered something under his breath as he helped you stand to your feet. His jaw was clenched tightly as he looked at you. Shaking his head.

“Grab your gun and then let’s go. I ain’t gonna ask twice. Grab it.”

When you hesitated he raised an eyebrow in your direction.

“Did ya hear me, darlin’? I said, move. NOW.”

You quickly reached for your rifle that was tossed into the snow by the clicker and slung it over your shoulder. As you walked past Joel, you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your skull.

Yeah, he was furious alright.

The walk back to the horses was a dead silent one. You were afraid to speak at all. He untied the reins of your horse from the tree and tossed them in your direction as you scrambled to catch them.

“Get on.” He grumbled. Grabbing the reins from his own horse before he placed the toe of his boot into the stirrup and hoisted himself back up into the saddle. You followed suit shortly after.

The tension between you two was palpable as you rode back into town. A knife couldn’t even cut through it this time. Someone was gonna have to take a fuckin chainsaw to it and even then, it wouldn’t have been enough.

Once you arrived at the stables, you dismounted from your horse. Quickly untacking and setting the saddle on the rack. Ellie had seen you two come in and then she saw the blood on your face, Joel’s pissed off expression and gruff nature. She knew something had happened.

“Are you..good? What the hell happened out there?”

You looked over at her, imagining how you must have looked in that moment. “I'm good, kiddo. Just ran into a few clickers.” You could hear Joel scoff alongside his horse.

“I thought they were—”

“Me too. It’s alright. I’m good, Ellie. Don’t worry, okay?” You gave her shoulder a light squeeze.

Ellie looked between you and Joel before she sighed. “Yeah, okay.” she mumbled.

Before you could comfort the girl further, you felt Joel’s firm grasp on your forearm as he pulled you out of the stables. He didn’t let you go as you headed back to your home. You struggled to keep up with his footsteps and you looked away when he gave you a warning look.

Once inside, he slammed the door shut and locked it. Hanging his rifle along the hook on the wall and yanked yours from your shoulder.

You watched as he un-jammed it with ease. Hanging it alongside his.

“Joel, I’m sorry I know I should have been careful and checked it before—”

“Save it. I don’t wanna fuckin’ hear it right now. You could have fuckin’ died out there. Fuckin’ stupid. That was completely preventable.”

His words and tone he delivered them in sliced through you like knives.

You could hear his heavy breathing from where you were standing. You saw his knuckles flex, before clenching into tight fists.

“Get over here.” He gruffly demanded.

Your feet were moving quicker than your brain could process it. You could feel your blood pounding in your ears as you stood before him.

He grabbed your face in his calloused palms, wiping fiercely at the dry blood on your face. His eyes searching yours. His pupils were dark in contrast to how gently he was handling you. You wondered for a moment how long that would last. His eyes flickering to your lips.

“You can kiss me.” You spoke through the stagnant cold air. He didn’t need your consent, you were fully ready to give it to him.

“I know I can.” He rasped out, his tone low, almost sounding like a growl.

He kissed you hard, backing you into a nearby wall with a harsh thud. He had completely encaged you against the wall as his lips kissed you feverishly. You could taste his hot breath on your tongue. His scent swirling around you, intoxicating your mind and body.

You went to move your arms up around his neck but he stopped you, grabbing your wrists in his clutch firmly, slamming them against the wall on either side of your head.

“No.” He muttered into your lips before he harshly bit down on your lower lip, drawing blood, tasting copper on his tongue as he released your plush lip from his teeth.

“Joel—”

“No. You’re gonna be a good girl. You got it? Don’t test me, Sugar. I ain’t in the mood.”

You meekly nodded and turned your head to the side slightly, taking your lower lip between your teeth as he attacked the bare skin of your neck with his lips and teeth, nipping, sucking, biting at the sensitive skin. You were definitely gonna need to borrow some makeup from Maria after this. That is, if Joel would allow you. He liked marking you up like this. Letting everyone know that you were his.

“The hell do you got in here, huh?” His words tore you away from your thoughts then as he was pawing at your coat. The sound of carbon steel clanking on the hardwood could be heard as Joel was finding your secret stash of weapons.

When you didn’t respond to his initial question, he asked again. Firmly this time.

“Where the hell did you find all these, huh?” He tore your jacket down your arms then, tossing it down to the floor with a thud.

“Around..” you spoke above a whisper as his hands roamed over your covered skin, on a mission to find more of your concealed weapons. He was in slight disbelief that you were this armed.

“Around, huh? That’s pretty fuckin’ vague, sweetheart.”

“Can never be too careful.”

He had reached behind you feeling through the thick layers that you were still wearing, and when he grasped the handle of a pistol, sticking out of your jeans, he chuckled.

“How the hell was it even comfortable to ride with that back there?” He pulled the pistol out then bringing it between you two before he tossed it down onto your coat.

“Maybe I’ve just gotten used to the pain. It’s not that bad.” You boldly spoke.

He raised a brow, grasping your hips firmly in his hands, he felt something hard sticking out between the fabric of your jeans.

“You’re jokin’. There’s more?” He reached between the gap of the tight fabric. Pulling out two sheathed knives on either side of your hips.

“Those were a bitch to fit in there. Just so you know.”

He tossed them down onto your coat.

“How many knives do you really need, honey?” He mused.

“Enough for you to keep finding them.” You spoke with zero hesitation.

He grabbed a handful of your ass then, giving it a good squeeze through the denim fabric. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, sinfully. “Am I gonna find anythin’ back here darlin’?”

You immediately lurched forward, not expecting him to grab you like that but you definitely wanted more.

“No.” You squeaked out. “Nothin’ hiding back there, cowboy.”

He chuckled lowly. The deep, smooth sound snaked down your neck, wrapping you in a delicious embrace before it settled between your thighs. Damn, you were fucked.

“Mmm. Alright, I believe ya, honey.”

He released your ass from his firm grip before his hands moved to the hem of your 2nd layer of clothing. A thick wool sweater. He wasted no time yanking the fabric over your arms and head. Discarding it to the floor beside his worn boots.

“There’s still more. Believe it or not.”

He paused then and looked at you trying to figure out if you were bullshitting him or not. You weren’t and it was quite obvious you both were getting enjoyment out of this little game. “You gotta be shitting’ me. Ain’t no way there’s more.”

“Oh, there is. You just aren’t looking hard enough.”

He grumbled under his breath at your response. It was frustrating for him. He just wanted to get to your skin already. He was absolutely craving it. The next layer irritated him even more. Course you just had to be wearing a sweater with fucking buttons.

“Seriously? I hate these fuckin’ things. Who the hell needs all these buttons? What is the point?” He spoke while his fingers started to undo the top buttons but when they wouldn’t immediately budge he growled under his breath and ripped the rest off.

You had let out an annoyed sound of protest as the buttons fell to the floor, bouncing and rolling off in different directions.

“Really, Joel? Was that necessary?”

He wasn’t even paying attention to your words. He was completely zoned in on the knife strapped between your breasts. Secured with a makeshift fabric holster.

“Sorry, not sorry Sugar. It had to be done. Now this? This is absolutely fuckin sinful of you. You do this just for me?”

You couldn’t help but smirk then. The look of disbelief on his hardened face absolutely egged you on.

“Oh, that?” You innocently spoke. “I completely forgot that was there. Whoopsie.”

His hand was at the base of your throat then. His eyes narrowed. His grip was firm, yet still gentle in his own way, his thumb was just barely applying pressure to your windpipe.

“You. My dear, are a filthy fuckin’ liar.” He spat the last part out.

You didn’t even flinch.

“So what if I am? You love it.”

“Yeah? You’re right, I do. I love it.” He admitted.

You watched with hooded eyes as he yanked the knife free from its confines between your breasts. He examined it closely before he used the tip of the blade to expertly cut through the fabric.

“No wonder you said you were freezin’ your tits out there. Ain’t got nothin’ coverin’ ‘em. Bet your pretty little nipples were as hard as fuckin’ rocks, eh?”

He couldn’t help but lightly drag the tip of the blade against the swell of your breast. He was extremely careful to not accidentally cut you as he dragged it against your peeked bud. The cool sensation from the steel had you nearly mewling.

“Now, Sugar. I’m only gonna ask ya this one time. You better give me the right answer too. No lyin’. You hiding anything else? If you are, I’m gonna find every last one of ‘em. I can promise you that.”

You shook your head, taking your lip between your teeth once more. This game was addictive. “No. I swear. That’s it. There’s no more Joel. Can you please fuckin’ touch me already? This is torture.” You nearly begged him.

“No? Are you absolutely sure? Cause if I find any more..” He trailed off. Dragging the tip of the blade down your navel before he slowly dropped to his knees before you. He used his free hand to feel up and down your thighs. Squeezing here and there as he looked up at your face to see if you were lying to him or not.

“There’s nothing. I swear on my life.”

“That’s a pretty risky thing to swear upon, honey.”

Once he reached your calves, he wasted no time tugging the bottom of your jeans from where they were tucked into your boots. There he found 2 smaller daggers strapped around your thick socks. He pulled both of them out and tossed them on your coat before he moved to the other boot and found 2 more in the same position.

“Well, I think that answers my question. Don’tcha think? I’m impressed, honey. You lied though. Even when I gave you the chance to fess up.” He pressed a kiss to your covered knee as he slowly stood back up.

“Oh no, you caught me! How did those even get there? What are you—” your words were abruptly cut off when he had cupped you firmly through your jeans. He could only imagine how wet you already were just from his teasing alone.

“You’re skatin’ on some mighty thin ice, sweetheart. But ya know what? I’m feeling a tad generous.”He moved his thumb over the button of your jeans and popped it open before he dragged the zipper down slowly. “I’m gonna reward ya. Just this once, for the fact you somehow managed to store that many weapons under your clothes. You’re filthy. I just want you to know that.”

“I know I am. You bring it out of me.”

The hand that was still holding your knife moved upwards then. In one swift moment, he had embedded the blade into the thin wood on the wall, right next to your head before he was swiftly yanking your jeans down over your hips. The rough denim scraped at your thighs from the quick movement.

“I know I have, honey. I’ve taught you well. Done me so fuckin’ proud.” His fingers had dipped in between your panties, feeling how wet you were for him already as he teased your slick folds. Slowly dragging his fingers against your clit in a circular motion.

You couldn’t help but let a small moan slip out. You were absolutely aching for his touch.

“Joel, you gotta give me more than that. Please, baby.”

“You want me that bad, huh honey? You gonna beg for it? Gonna beg for me? C’mon pretty girl, let’s hear you say it.” He sped his fingers up slightly, applying a bit of pressure before he dipped them down, teasing your entrance before he slipped them in. Immediately curling them against the warm spongy texture of your walls. His other hand wrapped around your waist, his fingers splayed against your lower back as he pulled you in so you were firmly flushed against his chest. His lips barely brushed yours as he teased you with a half kiss. Pulling away at the slightest when you tried to properly kiss him.

“Please, goddammit. I’m not gonna last long you mother fucker. Give me your fuckin’ cock Joel or I swear to god—”

“Mmm. There she is. There’s my pretty girl. You want my cock? Huh baby? You want me to fuck you against this wall? You want me to be so fuckin’ deep inside of ya, you can feel me in your guts? I’ll give it to ya honey. You just say the word.”

You were nearly on the edge from how slow he was pumping his fingers inside of you. You could feel just how much you were clenching around him and it was clear he wanted to drag this out.

“Yeah. Give me your absolute fuckin’ worst Miller. Fuck me against this goddamn wall.” You hissed out.

“Oh, alright, Sugar. If you insist.” He kissed you finally. His lips entirely capturing yours in a sloppy kiss. His fingers had slowly slipped out of you. They were coated in your arousal and he wasted no time popping the button off of his own jeans and dragged the zipper down. He didn’t even bother pushing his jeans down. He wanted you to feel the bite of his denim on your thighs. He pulled his cock free from the confines of his boxers hissing under his breath as he rubbed his thumb over his tip that was already leaking with pre-cum.

You kissed him back immediately. wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him in as physically close as possible. You threaded your fingers through his salt and pepper hair and gave it a firm tug.

He gave himself a couple good tugs as mumbled against your lips. “Hike your leg up over my thigh, sweetheart. I gotcha.”

You wasted no time to do just that as you brought your thigh around his hip. Driving the heel of your boot firmly into the back pocket of his jeans. While he used his freehand to grab a hold of your thigh. Digging the pads of his fingers into your skin as he held you up with ease. Your other leg stayed firmly planted on the ground for support.

He dragged his tip along your folds for a moment as he continued to kiss you deeply. Your teeth were clashing together from how hard you were kissing when he had finally slipped inside of your warmth. He stuttered out your name as he brought his other hand against the wall. Grasping the hilt of the blade that was still embedded next to your head.

“Fuckin’ hell.” You both moaned out in sync. He started with a delicious slow roll of his hips into yours. You could feel the harsh denim of his jeans rubbing into your thighs as he rolled his hips. It was a delicious combination.

“Takin’ me so well already honey. You want more?” He groaned out.

You responded by biting down on his lower lip hard letting your nails scrape against his scalp as you hissed out. “Fuck me already.”

He gave one harsh thrust then, causing your head to knock back against the wall slightly. He did it again, and again before he found a good rhythm, jutting his hips into yours. Drinking in each one of your moans that slipped past your pretty lips as he pounded into you mercilessly.

You both heard the sound of fabric ripping. It was your jeans of course. The friction of his movement and tightness of your thigh wrapped around his waist was enough to split the already worn fibers. You could care fucking less.

“That’s it baby. Doin’ so well for me, honey. Gripping me so well with this pretty little pussy. Keep doin that, okay? Don’t fuckin stop.” He gritted out as he drove himself deeper inside of you. He was all the way at the hilt now and he was gripping the handle of the blade embedded in the wall so hard, his knuckles were turning stark white.

You were a mess beneath him, crying out his name as your lips fell from his, breaking the kiss. “F-fuck Joel! Keep going baby, I’m close please don’t stop, please!”

He let out a low grunt in response and buried his face against your neck, biting down on your already broken skin. He swore he could taste blood as he soothed the skin with his hot tongue. “Keep fuckin’ screamin’ my name, darlin’. Want the neighbors to fuckin’ hear that you’re mine.” He mumbled against your skin.

Your thighs were already quivering as you reached down between your connected bodies. rubbing your already sensitive clit between your fingers.

“That’s it, honey. Get yourself off on me. You’re so fuckin’ filthy. Gonna cum all over me? Gonna coat my cock? C’mon baby I wanna feel ya!”

His thrusts were beginning to get sloppy as he got closer to his own release. He had released the blade from his grip on the wall only to secure his hand around your throat. His lips had moved from the skin on your neck to nipping at your jaw and chin and finally kissing you once more.

“Cum for me, Joel. Fuckin’ fill me up, honey.”

His hips gave out as he moaned out your name like a fucking chant. Just as you came undone around him. You were both a hot, sticky mess by the time your orgasm passed. His forehead was slick with sweat as it rested against yours. His back muscles were quivering as he was absolutely spent.

Even as he went soft inside of you, feeling yours and his cum dripping down your thighs, he stayed buried inside of you. While your fingers played with his sweaty hair gently. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle. You were absolutely high off sex.

“Hey, we should like..do this more often. I would absolutely love it if you rammed me up against a wall every now and then. Maybe bend me over a counter next time?”

He chuckled. Slowly and gently bringing your leg down from around his hip as he finally slipped out.

“Yeah? Sure honey, I’d love to bend ya over a counter. I’ve got a few ideas myself. Oh and, sorry about your jeans.” He gave you an apologetic, sweet kiss then.

“Oh, the jeans? Don’t worry about it Joel. They were on their last life anyway. I’d love to hear your ideas. Can only imagine what you come up with in that filthy head of yours.” You kissed him back sweetly and watched as he tucked himself back into his boxers and fixed his jeans.

“Oh, they’re filthy alright. You hang tight, kay sugar? Gonna get ya some fresh clothes and clean you up.” He left the entryway then headed upstairs, where he grabbed you a fresh pair of panties, one of his shirts and a towel. Returning to you in a matter of minutes. He yanked the blade from the wall before he got down on his knees and carefully cut what was left of the remaining fabric of your jeans, and tossed the shreds of fabric to the side before he unlaced your boots and set them down as well.

Aftercare, as you learned, was extremely important to Joel. Just as much as consent was equally important to him. You almost enjoyed this intimacy more than the actual sex. You watched as he gently wiped between your thighs. Cleaning you of your cum and his when he noticed the redness on your skin from where the fabric from his jeans was chafing against you.

“Does it hurt? I’m sorry about that doll. Ellie, or Maria probably have some lotion somewhere.”

“Joel, I’m good. It kinda stings but it’s not bad. I liked it. Enjoyed it, honestly.”

He slowly rose back to his feet then and helped you into the fresh pair of panties and his shirt before he scooped you into his arms bridal style and carried you into the living room, setting you down on the couch. “Alright pretty, you just get comfy, okay? Gonna start us a fire.”

You watched as your man was bent over the fireplace, adding logs expertly before he lit a match and tossed it in. He grabbed you a glass of water, food, which was abundant here, and a little something extra; Weed. Thank god for Ellie and Dina.

He plopped down on the couch beside you then, handing you the glass of water, stealing another kiss before he rid himself of his boots and jeans and the rest of his layers. He was just now in his boxers, bare chest and joint between his plush lips as he lit it.

Your mouth literally watered at the sight of him. You were mesmerized, infatuated.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He chuckled as he took a long drag, the tip of the joint turning bright red as he inhaled, blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling. He reached over, handing it off to you with his fingertips brushing yours.

You found your foot resting against his bare upper thigh as you took a long drag. “Where the hell did you get this, huh?” You blew the smoke out to the side before taking another hit.

“Dina and Ellie. Don’t tell ‘em though. I definitely did not steal from their stash.” He wrapped his hand around your calf gently, rubbing his thumb against your warm skin.

“You’re a bad man, Joel Miller.” You handed him the joint once more, a small grin gracing your features.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You love it though.” He mused.

“I do. There’s no denying that.”

He took another long drag, closing his eyes as he let the drug relax him. “Say, you think you can show me how the hell you managed to fit that many knives under your clothes? Cause..it really just fuckin’ kept goin. ‘You secretly Houdini or somethin?”

You laughed and took a long sip of your water. You were parched and he wasn’t helping.

“I’m sorry, honey. A lady can never reveal her deepest secrets.”

He squeezed your calf gently while he held the joint against his lips as he inhaled once more.

“Fair enough. I’ll figure it out on my own.”

“I’m sure you will, cowboy.”

Ellie had later found that one of her perfectly rolled joints was missing. She had a sneaking suspicion that it was either you, or Joel. Probably Joel though. Definitely Joel.