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If you don't talk to your girl while you are eating her pussy, telling her how good she tastes, how pretty it is, or just straight up moaning as you suck her clit between your lips, you aren't doing it right.
Summary: You’ve been divorced from Joel for a little while, now. But when your sink breaks and threatens to flood your house right before a date, you have no one else to call but him. Why does he come? You don’t know. Why does he look so fucking good? You don’t know, either.
W.C: ~6.2k
TL;DR: Rule number one of getting divorced: don’t fuck your ex-husband. (Optional).
Warnings: ex-husband!joel x ex-wife!reader, sappy love confessions, improper use of a sink, praise, oral f!receiving, mirror sex, unprotected p-in-v sex, (no outbreak!)
Note: as a child of divorce, i am allowed to touch upon this matter. anyway, happy fucking i mean reading
Part One | Part Two
One-third. A married couple’s least favourite fraction.
It was (and is) a well-known fact that one in three marriages ends in separation. And of course, you—being the lucky duck you were—found yours rapidly accelerating toward that destination.
You and Joel had agreed that you’d be better off apart. Joel got his own place while you kept the house. And Sarah lived with you every other week.
All you needed to do was send your attorney the signed divorce papers.
Outside of the sympathetic comments you received from acquaintances and relatives almost daily, you were doing just fine.
In fact, tonight you had a date.
A date. The kind that made you choose a tight-fitting dress that hugged your curves just right. The kind that inspired you to wear your hair in something other than a claw clip. The kind that provoked you to shave places you haven’t shaved in a long time.
The lucky bachelor was a fellow divorcee named Mark, whom you had met on a single-parent dating app. He had a full head of hair, a decent sense of humour, and two rescued Labradors. He offered to bring you to his favourite Italian restaurant, bringing up the fact that he’d pick up the bill no matter what, much to your protests. Needless to say, you had a good feeling about him.
After one last check in the mirror, you grabbed your coat and slung your purse over your shoulder, ready to head out the door.
Then, you heard it.
A faint gurgling.
You blinked twice, trying to zero in on the sound. Proceeding a few moments of intense concentration, you followed the sound into the ensuite bathroom.
The faucet was running. Had you forgotten to turn it off?
You reached for the handle. Twisted it. It spun freely, and nothing happened.
You tried and tried again, but all your efforts were in vain. You could only watch the tap stubbornly defy you as the handle jutted uselessly, loose in its socket.
“Shit.” You breathed.
The faucet sputtered out a particularly heavy spurt of water as if to say: shit, indeed.
You sighed, staring helplessly at the sink as it stared contumaciously back, water that couldn’t be swallowed by the drain toppling over the edge of the sink.
A quick Google search informed you that you needed to turn off the principal water pipe—the mains. Which you didn’t know how to do.
So, you resolved to delegate the problem to more capable hands. Like, a twenty-four-hour plumbing service. No, they could easily overcharge you. You could call your dad? No, he was too far.
Or…
Sighing, you dug out your phone from your purse and called your only remaining option. Someone who was a seasoned contractor, someone who dealt with this sink before, and someone who you just so happened to be divorcing.
He answered on the third ring.
“Hey—everything okay?” Joel’s concerned voice filtered through your phone.
“No.” You inhaled.
“No?” Joel echoed hesitantly, then waited for elaboration.
When nothing came, he cleared his throat.
Slightly confused, slightly wry, he continued, “This is the part where you tell me what’s wrong.”
“Um, my sink’s busted.”
“Your sink… is busted?”
“Yeah. Faucet won’t turn off. It-It’s a lot of water.” You bit the inside of your cheek, leaning on the wall. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
A moment of silence, then:
“You need me to fix it?”
Was that annoyance? Exhaustion? It definitely wasn’t exhilaration at the prospect of doing manual labour at eight o’clock on a Friday evening.
“You know what? Forget I called. This was stupid. Sorry to bother you—”
“I’m on my way.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, after he hung up, the smallest of smiles began forming on your face.
Fifteen minutes later, a knock came from your front door.
You swung the door open, and there he stood. Tool bag in hand, flannel shirt stretching tightly over his broad shoulders, salt-and-pepper hair just a little bit unkempt.
It had been a good few months since the two of you went your separate ways, but there he was—still at your beck and call. What that meant, exactly, remained to be seen.
But you were glad to see him, nonetheless.
“Hi,” You said breathlessly.
Upon seeing you, Joel’s brows shot up, and he blinked a few times.
“Hi.” He said back slowly, then cleared his throat. “Am I… interruptin’ something?”
You glanced down. Right. Tight dress and makeup.
“I have a date in…” You raised your left wrist and winced as you looked down at your watch. “Five minutes ago.”
“A date.” He clicked his tongue, nodding to himself. “Well, I’ll try to make this quick, then.”
You hummed a noise of agreement, pivoted, and, with a wave of your hand, invited Joel inside.
He stepped through the doorway with a quiet grunt. And, as he bent down to undo his boots, his coffee-brown gaze landed on a pile of unopened mail by the entryway table. A few envelopes had slipped to the floor, and he crouched to gather them without thinking.
But, as he straightened up to his full height, his eyes lingered on the recipient line.
“Mrs Miller?” Joel read aloud.
“What?” Your breath caught in your throat, and you spun around to meet his stare.
Joel wordlessly held the envelope up with two fingers, the corners of his lips slightly upturned.
“Oh.” You cringed inwardly. “Yeah.”
“Didn’t, uh, realise that you were keepin’ the name.” He shrugged offhandedly, tossing the stack of mail onto the entryway table.
“I’m not. I just…” You ran a hand through your hair. “Paperwork isn’t final.”
For the divorce.
Joel’s eyebrows pinched together. “I sent you my signed copies, if—”
“I know you did. I just haven’t sent the papers to my lawyer yet.” You pressed your lips into a thin line and avoided his gaze. “Just got a lot on my plate, recently.”
That was very unconvincing.
Joel hummed a noncommittal noise.
“Well…” He huffed sheepishly. “You know I always liked my name on you.”
You swallowed, feeling your stomach do a funny flip and your ears burn up. Why were your ears burning up?
“C’mon. The problem is upstairs.”
The faucet, to your dismay, hadn’t stopped. It was worse now, if that was even possible, spitting little rogue sprays of water alongside the main stream. Great.
You checked your watch again. Fifteen minutes late. You would no doubt have a few missed calls from your poor suitor if you had the guts to check your phone.
Joel sank to one knee as he inspected the sink, squinting at the appliance and shaking his head. Miraculously, he reached in and, a few rusty squeaks later, the water stopped.
“You fixed it.” You blinked.
“Far from it,” He muttered, frowning. “The cartridge’s shot. And the valve stem’s stripped. Who installed this?”
Without missing a beat, “You did.”
“…Right.”
You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest. “So?”
“So, this isn’t a quick fix. I need to pull out the whole assembly. Maybe replace the handle, too. And judging by the corrosion around this nut—” He held up a discoloured metal hexagon like it had personally offended him. “You’ve probably had a leak back here for a while.”
You blinked. “And you didn’t notice that when you lived here?”
Joel turned to shoot you a look. “I was your husband, not your handyman.”
“Really? I could’ve sworn I married you for that toolbox of yours.”
“And here I thought it was ‘cause of my radiant personality.”
“Definitely not that.” You huffed out a laugh.
Despite his back being turned to you, you could just about make out a reluctant smile forming through his slightly greying stubble.
You watched as he rolled up his plaid sleeves, exposing tanned forearms that were entirely too bulky for someone in his mid-forties. He then dug into his bag, fishing out an Allen Wrench.
“You can go on your date,” Joel added, not looking at you. “I’ll be out of here in an hour. Two, tops. But… if you feel like gettin’ frisky, maybe do it at his place. Just in case.”
Right, your date.
Biting the inside of your cheek, you took out your phone. Six missed calls and a flurry of concerned texts.
Decidedly, you typed out an apologetic message mentioning a water-related emergency and stuffed your phone back in your purse.
“I’m staying with you.”
Joel froze and turned to look at you from over his shoulder. “No, you ain’t. I’ll take too long.”
“Well, I can’t leave you to fix my problems while I’m out eating overpriced ravioli.” You shrugged and, with a soft grunt, took a seat against the wall near him. “You’re not a plumber, you’re a… you’re my…”
Ex-husband.
You cleared your throat, then emphasised, “You’re not a plumber.”
Joel let out a slow exhale. “Do whatever you want, but I doubt watching me fix your sink is gon’ be as fun as your date.”
“I’ve got a full bottle of Pinot Noir in the fridge.” You tilted your head. “We can make it fun.”
Joel’s eyebrows shot up.
“Not—not in that way.” You rubbed a clammy hand down your face.
To your surprise, that earned you a small, gruff laugh from Joel, his eyes crinkling momentarily the way they only did when he was truly amused.
His voice was soft when he responded.
“Go on and get the wine, then, sweetheart.”
Two crystal glasses and a little while later, Joel had put down his wrench and opted instead to sit beside you on your tiled bathroom floor, his shoulders brushing up against yours in the cramped space.
Efforts to tame the defiant sink had long since been forgotten. He did the best he could, but retired upon discovering that you had no spare sink handle lying around—how very unprepared of you.
The bad news was that you weren’t going to be able to wash your hands in the master bedroom ensuite tonight. The good news was that you were having a surprisingly good time with Joel. The conversation evolved from discussing your stood-up date (you showed Mark’s profile, Joel was convinced he was lying about his dogs being rescues), then to how his company was going, and then, reminiscing about the good ol’ days.
“All I’m sayin’,” Joel continued through a laugh. “Is that she did it on purpose.”
“My mom has always been bad with names!”
“Bad enough to still call me ‘George’ after a year of us datin’?” He scoffed.
You stifled a giggle. “In her defence, it’s a very similar—”
“Like hell it is. And your dad? He was worse.” Joel chuckled, finishing the last of his wine. “How is he?”
“Fine. Just called him yesterday, actually.”
“He still callin’ me–?”
“He still calls you ‘porn stache’, yes.”
Joel snorted into his hand, his shoulders bobbing up and down with laughter. Real, genuine laughter.
You smiled and turned to steal a glance at his profile.
His eyes crinkled at the corners, his hooked nose scrunched mid-chuckle, and his laugh was exactly as it was before—low and rough, but somehow boyish and unguarded.
You had almost forgotten how his whole face lit up when he laughed.
And, you didn’t mean to stare. But you did.
God, you missed this.
“I think I prefer George.” Joel ran a hand down his face, still smiling.
You cleared your throat and leaned over to retrieve the almost-empty wine bottle, refilling your glasses.
“Sarah told me to say hi to you, if I got the chance, by the way.” You said, pouring the Pinot Noir into his glass. “She’s with my parents at the lake house.”
“The lake house?” Joel hummed, taking another sip of his drink. “Still disappointed I didn’t get that in the settlement.”
You snorted, amused. “You don’t even like lakes.”
“No, I don’t like the mosquitoes that come with the lakes.” Joel corrected you, pointedly. “But, I don’t know, I guess I just miss it. A lot of good memories there.”
You felt yourself smile. “Yeah. Yeah, there were.”
A beat.
“Hey, at least you kept the cars. And the boat. And the frequent flier miles. And, well, you see Sarah every other week.” You turned to look at Joel, but he was already looking at you.
A certain vulnerability swam in the brown of his eyes. Something you hadn’t seen in a very long time.
“Yeah, well… there were more important things I couldn’t keep.”
The air thinned. The wine, the laughter, the conversation—everything dissolved in the quiet admission, hanging thickly in the space between you.
And suddenly, there was only you and Joel and the mistakes that had wedged you apart yet somehow brought you back together again; on a random Friday evening on the floor of a bathroom you used to share.
“Joel…” You swallowed, your hand falling from your lap onto the tiles.
But you couldn’t form any semblance of a sentence. How could you?
There was nothing to say. Yes, you missed him. ‘Missed’ was an understatement.
Sometimes you’d roll over in the night, wishing to feel the weight of his arm resting on your waist, reassuring you that these past few months had only been a bad dream. Sometimes you came to pick Sarah up early, just to get a few more minutes with him. Sometimes—no, a lot of the time, memories of him came rushing back, cleaving your heart into two, further and further each time.
No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t let go of the man you spent so many years loving.
Joel’s eyes still bore into yours. And nothing in the world could have torn you away.
He exhaled slowly, then set down his glass with care. His hand barely brushed yours, but it was enough to make your breath hitch.
“I think about it,” He said softly. “More than I should.”
“Think about what?”
A quiet, almost sad laugh escaped from his throat. He leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.
“How things used to be.”
“Oh,”
A moment passed, marked only by the metre of your incessant heartbeat pounding in your ears.
And then, “Do you ever miss us?” Joel asked.
You faced him once more. The answer was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Because that was too complicated. Because that would break you.
Joel didn’t need you to say it. He found the answer in your eyes.
All the time.
Instead, you asked, “Do you? Miss us, that is.”
“Of course, I do.” He said softly. “More than you can imagine.”
You held your breath.
Joel heaved a sigh.
“I think about calling,” He added, voice low. “Just to hear your voice.”
“I’d answer,” You said, barely above a whisper.
He smiled in a bittersweet, melancholic sort of way and leaned in just slightly. Unconsciously, you mirrored him.
And then his eyes flickered down to your lips. It was only for a second, but it was enough to make your stomach flutter.
This was dangerous. You should’ve told him to leave ages ago. Or, maybe you should’ve left yourself and gone on your date.
But you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.
“Can I ask you something stupid?” You whispered.
Joel whispered back, “Always.”
“Do you…” You trailed off, biting your lip.
“Do I what?”
“Do you—does even a part of you… want what we had back?”
You knew what he was going to say. You just wanted to hear it for yourself.
And you did.
“Yes,” He admitted earnestly.
You searched his face for any sign of deception, but found none. The only thing in his coffee-brown eyes was regret. And, maybe, something else, too. Something softer.
Your eyes widened. “We fought a lot.”
“We did.”
“And we probably said some shit.” You sighed, looking up at the ceiling, as if all the answers were written there. Joel did, too.
His voice came softly, sadly, “We did.”
Silence again. Thick and fragile and charged with so many unspoken words.
Joel’s knee brushed yours, neither of you pulling away. It was nice to have him close, to feel his familiar warmth, to see him—really see him. Bare and raw and vulnerable. No facades of indifference. No hiding behind closed car doors. Just Joel, your Joel, there beside you; soft-eyed and quiet, like maybe he was seeing you, too.
Your fingers twitched on the floor beside his. You wanted to reach for him, but you wanted him to reach first. Absently, you fiddled with your left ring finger, suddenly aware of its bareness.
He looked at you then. Not a glance, but a full turn, slow and deliberate. His dark eyes searched your face, pausing on your mouth, your cheek, your lashes, then settled on your eyes again. He looked at you like you were something he’d spent months trying to forget, and only just now remembered why he couldn’t.
You held your breath.
Joel’s voice, when it finally came, was low, cracked around the edges.
“I know it was bad in the end, but I meant what I said.” He breathed. “I miss us. I miss you.”
Your heart twisted. And there went that cleaver again, slicing further.
“I miss seeing your keys on the kitchen counter and knowing you were home. I miss kissing you before work and smudgin’ your lipstick. I miss watching stupid movies with you that we’d fall asleep to halfway.”
His throat bobbed. He leaned back against the wall, like it hurt to say it out loud.
“Yeah, we fought and said some real mean shit. But God help me, I’d give anything to go back in time and fight for you like I should have. Because you were it for me. You were everything. Still are.”
His eyes glistened as he held your gaze, fierce and unflinching.
“Because, no matter how hard I try to ignore it,” He smiled to himself, shaking his head like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I love you.”
He loves you.
Those three simple words rang in an echo in your mind. He loves you, he loves you, Joel loves you.
“You love me?” You could barely hear your voice above the deafening thrum of your pulse.
Your faces were barely an inch apart, now. You could smell the familiar scent of his laundry detergent, and traces of his cologne, and wood, and tobacco, and something that was so uniquely him.
Joel nodded.
“I never stopped.” He whispered.
Without thinking, you closed the remaining distance, smashing your lips against his. Joel grunted in surprise, but quickly gave in, exhaling through his nose like he’d been holding a breath in for years.
He returned the kiss with equal fervour, reaching out to cup your face and pouring all his pent-up emotions against the haven of your lips—longing, relief, desire.
You pushed yourself closer against him. Closer, impossibly closer, until you were straddling his lap, moving against the tent in his jeans, feeling his big hands instinctively settle on your hips, and tasting the Pinot Noir on his lips.
Shit. Was this even a good idea?
You pulled away suddenly. A tiny whine came from Joel, who tried to chase your mouth, but you were insistent.
“Wait,” You panted.
His eyes opened fully. His brows were knitted, his lips were kiss-swollen, and his chest was heaving slowly.
“What?” Joel asked quietly, his thumbs idly tracing circles on either side of your hips.
“This…” You breathed. “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing. I don’t want it to mean nothing.”
Joel smiled softly at your words.
“Means a whole lot to me, sweetheart.” His hand went to gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek in his wake. “We can talk about what this means, if you w—”
“Okay, good. Means a lot. Talk after.”
“After?” His eyebrows rose.
“After you fuck me.”
A breathy ‘Jesus Christ’ slipped from his throat, but Joel didn’t spend a second refusing your bold assumption.
With a hand on your nape, he leaned forward to capture your lips in another searing kiss, which you happily accepted, sighing against him.
His big hands then travelled to the back of your thighs, and the next thing you knew, he carelessly swept away whatever was decorating the base of your faucet, and carried you with ease to perch you atop the sink.
“Joel.” You mumbled urgently into his lips.
“Mmm?” He hummed back, not wanting to break your mouths apart for even a second.
“Might break the sink again.”
“Don’t care. I’ll fuckin’ fix it again, then. Just… need you,” Joel groaned. “Look too fuckin’ good,”
And he pulled away. His half-lidded, cloudy gaze drank you in, sweeping down the snugness of your dress, and lingering on the generous amount of cleavage it revealed. His hands drifted higher and higher up your thighs, until they reached the hemline—dipping under just slightly.
“Too fuckin’ good,” He snarled.
You smirked. Knowing him, he was definitely going to ask if—
“How much was this dress?”
Sighing amusedly, “It wasn’t cheap.”
“How attached are you to it?” He mumbled, a hand reverently skirting up to your hip.
“A moderate amou—”
“Can I rip it off you?”
There it was.
In the many years you were married, Joel shredded more than enough articles of your precious wardrobe in similar heated moments. If you were to count the offences, you’d likely run out of fingers. Your wedding dress had been among the few survivors of his destructive tendencies, though not for lack of trying on his part.
You stifled a snort and shook your head, reaching up to caress his face.
“No.” You smiled. “Because I’d like to wear it again.”
Joel held your hand against his face and huffed out an exaggerated sigh. “Next time.”
And then his hands found the zipper on your side, pulled it sharply down, and tugged the dress off you.
His eyes darkened.
You had chosen to don an intricate, black, lacey number underneath your dress that teased just enough and only hid the bare minimum. Of course, you had. You hadn’t had an opportunity to wear anything vaguely provocative in ages and were expecting some luck after your date.
You certainly didn’t expect that your ex-husband would be the one seeing it.
“This for him?” Joel’s lip twitched.
Heat rose in your cheeks. “Well, I—”
“Yeah, these don’t get a pass.”
With a sharp tearing noise slicing through the air, Joel ripped the flimsy lacey bra clean in half, watching intently, hungrily, as your tits spilled out.
“Joel!”
“I know, I know,” Joel grunted. “I’ll buy you a new set… buy you all the fuckin’ sets.”
You were about to object, intent on citing the price attached to that particular pair, but Joel had sunk back on his knees and spread your legs apart.
He pressed his lips on your inner thigh, scruff tickling your skin as he slowly, softly trailed his mouth upward, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
His face came to a stop in front of your core, noticing how heavily you were breathing, and his eyes flicked up to yours, smirking. Smug fucking bastard.
“Joel.” You gritted your teeth.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Don’t fucking tease me.”
And he leaned his forehead against the lower part of your navel, taking a second to breathe in the unmistakable scent of your arousal seeping through your lingerie.
He was practically salivating, now.
“I’ll try not to, ma’am.”
Without another word, he took the lace into his teeth, yanked his head sharply, and tore your panties open.
Confirming his suspicions, you were absolutely soaked. Slick drooled freely out of your puffy folds, taunting him and draining every ounce of self-restraint he had.
Fuck, you were gorgeous.
“Tell me,” Joel said lowly, meeting your gaze once more as a thick finger swiped lightly through your lips, collecting your arousal. “This for him or me?”
“You.” You breathed without a second thought.
“Louder, sweetheart. My ears ain’t what they used to be.”
“You.”
Smirking wider, “Damn fucking right.”
Then, he happily hitched your legs over his shoulders, leaned forward, and dove in.
His tongue prodded into your heat, dragging down your walls and sending jolts of electricity down your spine. He worked fast and sloppily, sliding through your folds and flicking into your walls, urgently tasting you like he wouldn’t get another chance.
Your arousal coated the lower half of his face, his eyes were almost black with desire, obscenely wet noises echoed in the silence of the tiled room as his tongue eagerly devoured you whole—
“Fuck, almost forgot how good you taste. So fuckin’ sweet.” Joel mumbled against your sex, entirely, wholly bewitched. “She missed me, too, huh? Just drippin’ for me…”
He continued to furiously lap at your entrance, scruff rubbing against your inner thighs. And then he moved up, planting messy kisses higher and higher until he reached your swollen clit.
You gasped brokenly, flinging a hand to grasp his curls as his lips alternated from pressing messy kisses along your seam to greedily sucking at your bundle of nerves, latching onto it almost desperately.
After a particularly delicious drag down the roof of your core, you rolled your hips up into his mouth and brought him closer to you with your grip in his hair.
“Shit—sorry.” You panted, breathing heavily.
He barely pulled away to look at you.
“Don’t fuckin’ be. I can handle it, you know I can.” Joel all but growled, before returning to attend to your needy fucking pussy.
He was like a man possessed; lapping frenziedly, groaning lowly into your sensitive skin, curved nose swiping through your folds as he worked.
Very soon, a familiar tingle in your lower stomach introduced itself.
“Joel,” You called urgently, attempting to warn him.
He knew you were close. Oh, he knew. So, he went faster and harder, pressing himself further against you, suffocation be fucking damned.
His low, wrecked voice came slurred and slightly muffled by your sex, “Y’gonna come? Go on, baby, all over my face—thaaat’s it.”
A shattered moan escaped from your throat, and you felt your release take over your body almost violently. You couldn’t help the way your legs clamped down around his head, but Joel loved it, letting you smother him and humming happily into your heat as he worked you through your climax, swallowing your release and eating like a man starved.
Finally, he pulled away with a wet squelch, softly pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, and gently let your legs down.
And you were immediately greeted with the sight of his lower face shining with your slick.
A good look on him, if you’d say so yourself.
He smiled lazily, eyes blown-out and absolutely fucking pussydrunk.
“That good for you, sweetheart?” He mused.
“You, Joel Miller, are what we call a munch.” You smiled back.
Pride bloomed across his face. “Gladly, sweets.”
And you pulled him up by the collar of his flannel shirt into a filthy kiss, tasting your arousal on his lips.
He let his eyes fall shut and reached up to curl a hand around your jaw as he returned the kiss, his brows furrowed in concentration.
Not wasting any time, your hands flew to his belt, blindly fumbling at the leather material to slide it out of the loops of his jeans.
Joel chuckled, leaning forward to trail his lips down your neck, leaving a path of open-mouthed kisses.
“Need somethin’, baby?”
“Wanna return the favour,” You glanced down at the bulge in his lap.
“Mm-mm. That was more for me than you. Missed your sweet fuckin’ pussy.” Joel mumbled against your pulse point.
“Munch.” You couldn’t help but giggle.
“Yeah, yeah.” Joel sighed, lifting his head and undoing his jeans just barely enough to pull himself free from his boxers.
You heard yourself swallow.
Joel Miller was a big man, and you were very aware of that fact. It was written all across his body; from his impossibly broad shoulders, to his beefy arms, to his thick fucking cock.
He stroked himself, once, twice, as his eyes fell to your pulsating, slick core. Beads of precum leaked from his flushed tip and down his length as he did so.
“Spread those legs wider for me, baby. Let me see you,” He breathed lowly.
And you very willingly obliged.
“There’s my girl,” Joel hummed.
With a hand around his base, he guided himself closer to your drooling cunt, nudging his swollen head against you.
Sighing, “Deep breath, baby.”
And he slowly forced himself in, one hand on the small of your back, the other on the underside of your thigh, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he steadily fed you his cock.
You gasped some variant of a plea.
Needless to say, he was a tight fucking fit.
“Takin’ me so well. That’s it, baby, let me in.” He blabbed mindlessly as he continued to sink deeper inside.
Deeper, deeper, deeper…
He winced. “Shit—there you go.”
When all of him was nested inside your welcoming channel, he let out a gasped expletive at the sensation.
Full. You felt so full with him inside. You always did.
“Fuck, missed this.” Joel panted, resting his forehead against yours.
You tried to echo the sentiment, but the only thing you were capable of doing was letting out an incoherent groan of his name.
Joel got the message, though.
Maintaining an unhurried tempo, he rolled his hips back and forth, slowly dragging his thickness against your walls, making you painfully aware of every last inch of him.
“How’s that feel, baby?” He mumbled, voice airy.
“Good. Feels so good.”
And, fuck, he did.
He felt amazing.
His tempo soon picked up, leaving your mouth to fall open as you took every inch of him again and again, stretching you open with enough pleasure to dull the slight pain.
“Tell me,” Joel hummed as he continued to drive ceaselessly in and out of your tight channel, adopting a false lilt of indifference. “Who’s fuckin’ you so good, huh?”
An incoherent syllable slipped from your lips.
“Who, baby?” Joel urged you, unrelenting in his pace. “Sure as hell ain’t fuckin’ Mark.”
Dumbly, you shook your head.
“You, Joel.”
Your words were almost drowned out by the symphony of your own moans, which were accompanied by the obscenely wet slaps that sounded every time his hips fully met yours.
“Louder.” He snarled, punctuating his response with an intentionally rough ram. “Neighbours can’t hear you yet, c’mon.”
“You, Joel!”
Satisfied, his hands went to hold you by your waist, keeping you as still as possible as he drove insistently into you, his tip now kissing your cervix with every thrust.
You cried out at the feeling, nails raking down his back.
Heat pooled in your gut, your vision blurred, a high-pitched ringing almost deafened your ears.
“Joel, Joel, I’m…” You babbled.
“Close? Go on, gorgeous. Let me feel you choke my dick.”
With his blessing, his name left your mouth in a high-pitched scream, and you felt yourself clench around his throbbing length as your orgasm rippled across your body like an earthquake.
Joel, being the overachiever he was, didn’t stop for even a second until your breathing slowed and your eyes fluttered open again.
And, once he saw that you had recovered, he leaned forward to slant his mouth against yours, swallowing your sighs.
“You okay?” He mumbled into the kiss, barely breaking away.
“Yeah.” You exhaled.
He smiled against your lips.
“Good. Almost there, baby. Gonna take you against the sink, now, and you’re gonna give me one more, how’s that sound?”
You nodded dreamily, feeling him slowly pull out.
He leaned back and, with his hands on your waist, delicately set you down.
“Turn ‘round for me, sweetheart.”
You acquiesced without hesitation, bracing yourself on the porcelain countertop.
Joel hummed, kicked your legs open even wider, and, not long after, sank the entirety of his cock into you in one deep thrust.
A sharp breath hit the air behind you, and an airy ‘fuck’ followed it. This angle made him feel bigger, if that was even possible.
He didn’t wait long after that. He couldn’t. Overcome with the need to feel you, he started moving. The first thrust was slow. Experimental. The second was hard. The third was harder.
Before you knew it, his big hands found a home on your hips, and he began to drive roughly into you, as if making up for lost time.
He certainly proved he was willing to atone for his absence, thrust after thrust.
“Oh, look at you.” Joel tutted and pulled your hair to tilt your head upwards.
You came face to face with the woman in the bathroom mirror.
Somewhere in between thrusts, your mouth had fallen agape, letting loose a long whine of pleasure, which was stuttered by every slam of his hips against yours.
Your hair was frizzy, your face was flushed, your hooded gaze was flooded with desire, and a light sheen of sweat doused every inch of your skin.
You were a wreck, thanks to the man fucking you so well behind you.
“Eyes up here.” Joel sighed. “Keep ‘em open. Gotta watch how well you take me.”
Joel was even more of a sight.
The top few buttons of his flannel were undone, his sleeves were haphazardly rolled up, his hair was wild, and the look on his weathered face was nothing short of territorial as he held you to him and fucked you with reckless abandon.
Your eyes fell to where your bodies were connected, hypnotised by how easily his tanned cock disappeared in and out of your puffy cunt.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The corners of his lips were coyly upturned when he cooed, “Don’t we look good, baby?”
You could only respond in broken syllables.
“Yeah,” He grunted. Then, after a particularly forceful thrust, “we do.”
He continued to ram into you, finding your cervix with each thrust, keeping his eyes trained on the mirror, fixated on how your tits bounced so prettily for him.
“Beautiful.” He whispered, jaw tight.
If your brain hadn’t been turned to mush after the two orgasms he forced out of you, you would’ve heard him. But all you were focused on was the rush of another climax approaching.
You gripped the countertop harder and gritted your teeth, feeling warmth collecting in your stomach and bracing yourself for impact.
As if reading your mind, Joel’s hand moved from your hip to your front, trailing down until he brushed your clit, rubbing sloppy semi-cricles and whispering sweet things as you whimpered.
“You gonna give me one more?” He murmured encouragingly, his nose nudging the side of your face.
You could only manage an open-mouthed nod.
His fingers sped in their motions, swiping at your clit feverishly as he continued to rut into you, grazing your cervix each time.
Again. And again.
“Come for me, sweetheart. I’ll catch you.” He whispered gently.
Your jaw slackened, your heartbeat quickened, and, in a blinding flash of pleasure, you came with his name on your tongue, helpless to the throes of your climax.
“There you go. Shit… so good for me.” Joel groaned. And then, urgently, “Where—where do you want me to–?”
Not even a full second later, “Inside.”
“You sure?” He panted, starstruck.
“I have an IUD, just—please.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he pressed closer, his chest flush against your back, letting you feel every shaky pull of his breath as he caged you in. His hands found yours at the edge of the sink, lacing over them gently. His head dropped beside yours, his forehead nearly touching your temple, and a warm breath fanned across your skin as he sighed.
And then he resumed his earlier pace.
He rammed into you hard and fast, chasing his own release as if it were a life-or-death situation. And all you could do was take it.
After a dozen more jerky thrusts, his breath caught in his throat and, with a low curse, he came. Hot ropes of his spend spilled inside you, and he rode it out until he couldn’t give you any more, which took a few more lazy rolls of his hips.
His breath evened not long after, warm and steady against your browbone. Soothing, almost.
Gently, he pulled out of you, and you felt his come slowly drip down your thighs.
“Fuck,” He breathed, pressing a soft kiss to your hair, scruff rubbing against your crown as he did so.
And he bowed his head to rest it on the crook of your neck.
“That was great, George.” You panted.
Joel snorted tiredly. “Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?”
“Nope.”
He huffed out a chuckle.
Then, he languidly pressed a trail of open-mouthed kisses wherever his lips could reach—the underside of your jaw, your throat, your neck, and down, still.
A warm, fuzzy sort of feeling radiated from his touch, lulling you into a state of bliss. It felt like love; it felt like coming home.
You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face.
Joel mumbled something unintelligible against your shoulder.
“What?” You replied, breaking free from your trance.
“I said,” He pulled away and, with two fingers on your chin, tenderly turned your face to look at him. His voice was wrecked and so very earnest when he finally repeated himself. “Don’t send the papers. Please.”
He held the rest of his plea in his eyes in the way they shone with a certain sincerity.
You smiled softly and shook your head. Because you knew you never really had any intention to. Because you wanted to hold on to him. And you were glad he wanted to hold on to you, too.
Your lips found his. Gentle, delicate, a reassurance. He gave in to the kiss almost immediately, sighing into your mouth.
“I won’t.”
And you meant it.
thanks for reading!!! reqs are open, if you wanna send an idea or anything over :)
a brief moment of dubious consent due to..., accidental creampie, bareback sex, p in v, somewhat subby!joel, size kink, breeding kink, humiliation kink, edging/ruined orgasm
a/n: i wrote this with the intention of posting it on my birthday last week, but life sucks sometimes. anyways, there needs to be more sub!p men fic. am i right, @time-for-my-weekly-spanking? not beta read, so don't yell at me.
The way Joel fucks you can never be labeled as anything other than exquisite. His breath is hot against the sensitive skin of your neck, his mouth closing over the pulse point just below your ear so as to taste the salt of your sweat. The coarse scratch of his chest hair drags across your breasts as he leans in close, the low rumble of his groan vibrating through your ribcage. The muscles in his back shift and flex under the featherlight touch of your fingertips. A large hand pins your wrist above your head, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise, his thick fingers digging into the soft flesh in a way that makes your stomach flutter.
Despite being lost in the throes of pleasure, you can tell how dangerously close Joel is to coming. His thrusts are no longer the steady, rolling grind that he started with, but desperate and choppy. The thick head of his cock grazes against your cervix with every sloppy snap of his hips. The veins along his shaft throb against your stretched rim, his balls slapping against your ass with each stuttered movement. “Joel…” you warn.
He shakes his head fast, jaw tight and teeth clenched as he fights his impending orgasm. “I know, baby. I know. M’pullin’ out, I promise.”
That had always been the deal between the two of you – he could fuck you bare like he wanted, but he had to pull out – and until tonight, Joel had always been overly cautious. He’d pull out earlier than he needed to, stroking himself those last few seconds before spilling across the backs of your thighs.
Tonight though, Joel seemed to be struggling to hold up his end of the bargain. He rises onto his knees and hooks one of your legs over his broad shoulders. The new angle lets him sink into you further, grinding against that spongy spot inside you with merciless precision. Your body clenches around him, squeezing his cock in a way that makes him break with a choked sound. “Fuck, baby. M’gonna come–”
He rips out of you at the very last second, cock throbbing in the cool summer air. His hand wraps around the thick, slick shaft as he jerks himself with fast, desperate strokes. With an exasperated groan, the first hot rope of come shoots out of him, landing exactly where he wants it - splattered perfectly over your swollen clit. Before you can even react, a second spurt follows dripping down your folds in a sticky, pearly streak.
The sight of his release painting your pussy flips a switch in him instantly. That primal urge in him that is usually kept locked down roars to the surface. Joel’s chest heaves, his entire body going rigid as every civilized thought gets wiped clean and is replaced with the need to be inside you. “Fuck. Fuck, baby–” He drives into you in one brutal, instinctive thrust, thrusting every thick inch of his cock back into the heat of your cunt. The stretch is sudden and overwhelming despite him pulling out only moments earlier.
“Joel–” you manage to breathlessly exclaim as he turns his head and groans against your ankle. His orgasm hits him harder now that he’s buried where he knows he shouldn’t be, the guilt and wrongness only seeming to intensify everything as he continues to spill inside you.
His whole body shakes with the force of it, completely lost in the rush of filling you when he promised he wouldn’t. “Oh fuck–” he chokes out, gasping and moaning as he grinds himself impossibly deeper, pushing his spend as far inside you as he can.
Your leg slips from his shoulder and Joel’s body collapses forward with a groan, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He trembles above you, arms braced on either side of your head, too weak to hold himself up fully as he attempts to catch his breath. Even after the last powerful aftershocks ripple through him, Joel stays buried to the hilt, his hips giving a tiny, involuntary roll, unable to stop chasing the euphoric feeling. His cock twitches inside your come-filled pussy, his body refusing to accept that it’s over.
The room falls silent, the gravity of what just happened settling over you until it’s almost suffocating. Joel finally slumps over you, his forehead nudging into your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around your middle like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. His breath is shaky as he burrows his face into your neck and you sense the tension and unease radiating off of him. “...baby. I–I fucked up,” he admits, voice wrecked from both exhaustion and nerves.
You can feel the warmth of his release slowly leaking out around his softening cock and you try to lift your head to see, but Joel is heavy over top of you. You tap the side of his ass, urging him to get up and thankfully he understands the gesture. He eases himself out of you, his cock slipping out of you with a wet noise, and falls back onto the mattress, covering his face with his forearm. “Jesus…” you breathe, having propped yourself up on your elbows to look down at the mess he made. The sheen of your slick is smeared glossy across your inner thighs. Joel’s come is everywhere – seeping out of your hole in thick, pearly white streaks and dripping onto the bedsheets beneath you.
Joel sits up, leaning back on one hand as he takes in the sight of your spread thighs, watching as his come slowly trickles from your entrance. The guilt of breaking his promise to you starts to eat at him; but, alongside the shame is a dark, hungry satisfaction that he can’t push away. The conflicting feelings weave together into some fucked up shame spiral and he lets out a heavy sigh, flopping back onto the mattress.
He hears you say his name, but the sound barely registers. He’s too lost in his own head, trapped somewhere between regret and disgust. You call out again, this time a little louder, and he rolls onto his side to face you. Without a word, he leans in, one hand cradling your cheek as he kisses you. It’s not rushed or desperate, but rather sweet, as if his lips were trying to say everything he was having difficulty putting into words. There’s an apology in the way that his thumb gently strokes the side of your face. There’s hunger in the way his tongue slides against yours. And, there’s relief in the quiet sigh he breathes into the kiss, like touching you is the only thing keeping him grounded. “M’sorry, baby…” he murmurs against your lips.
His eyes flick back down to the mess between your thighs, brows furrowing together. “Fuck…look at what I did to you,” he whispers. “As soon as I can feel my damn legs, “we’re gonna get in the car, okay? I’ll drive you to the pharmacy and we’ll see about gettin’ you the mornin’ after pill.” Joel shakes his head, disappointed in himself, but even more so at his cock which twitches with interest. “I promised. I fuckin’ promised and I just…” his voice cracks, “the second I came, I lost it. Buried myself right back in like some goddamn animal.” There’s a short pause, Joel swallowing down a dangerous thought, “Jesus Christ, baby…what the hell did I do?”
You grab Joel’s face with both hands before he can spiral any further, pulling him into a kiss that shuts him up and steals whatever apology was about to tumble out. His lips quiver against yours, unsure if he should even be allowed this kind of forgiveness. It isn’t until the tip of your tongue slides slowly over the seam of his lips that he melts. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding and the tension in his jaw finally eases. His hand comes to rest on your waist and he kisses you back, trying to convey his gratitude for not pushing him away.
When you break apart, you rest your forehead against him and brush your thumbs over his stubbled cheekbones. “Should make you go by yourself,” you mumble against his lips, no malice in your voice. “Explain to the pharmacist what you did.”
Joel looks at you with wide, pleading eyes, knowing he deserves every bit of shame and reproach that would come from confessing it aloud. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, his face starting to heat up. “Baby…” he breathes out, voice barely above a whisper.
You smile softly, eyes locked on his, “She’s going to take one look at this guilty face and just know that you couldn’t keep your cock where it belonged.” Joel makes a ragged sound, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “She’ll make you say it too,” you add, dragging your thumb over his bottom lip. “What you did. Out loud.”
Joel’s eyes flutter shut, cheeks burning hotter under your gaze, his forehead dropping to your shoulder in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. You’re not exactly sure what prompts you, but you find yourself sliding your fingers into Joel’s hair, gently tugging his head back up so you can see his face. “Tell me what you’d say to her,” you whisper. “Tell me like you’re standing at the counter.”
Joel shakes his head weakly, attempting to resist your request, but his pupils are blown wide, lust swallowing his irises. His cock twitches with interest, blood rushing to where he’s already growing half-hard between his thighs.
You let your gaze drop, catching the sudden movement in your peripheral vision. Joel lets out a small, miserable whine and tries to bury his face in your neck again, but you keep your grip firm in his hair. “Joel,” you say, slightly amused but with a strangely cruel undertone to it. “Are you getting hard while apologizing?”
Your question lingers in the air, and the real shock of it hits you, because Joel is not the type to be brought down to his metaphorical knees. He is always the one in control – bigger, stronger, unmistakably male – and seeing him like this almost feels surreal. You can’t help but think that it looks good on him for a change.
Joel’s breath stutters, his cock betraying him as it twitches under your gaze. His blush deepens until he’s red all the way up to the tips of his ears. He feels exposed, ridiculous and so fucking turned on that it’s making his head spin. “Baby, I–I’m trying not to.”
You tilt your head and let out a disbelieving laugh, glancing down at his cock steadily thickening between you. “Doesn’t look like it. Looks like you’re getting big and hard just from thinking about having to talk to the pharmacist later.”
A shiver zips up Joel’s spine and he barely restrains the groan that wants to escape. He fucking loves it when you call him big. Not just because of the way it strokes his ego – though he loves when you admire his dick – but because the way you say it makes him feel powerful. Hearing you use that word against him, teasing him while he’s exposed like this, makes his stomach tighten. The contradiction of being called ‘big’ while feeling so small and humiliated fucks with his head in the best way. Because no matter how big he is – how easily he could pin you down and take control – here he is, rock hard and almost submissive for you. His cock throbs, heavy and flushed dark, curving up towards his stomach as the tip glistens with a fresh bead of precome.
“Answer me,” you say, voice low and commanding as you give his hair another firm tug until his eyes are trained on you.
“...fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, unable to keep himself in check as you stare down at him. “Yes…okay? Yes, I’m gettin’ hard. I hate it and I can’t fuckin’ help it.”
Joel looks completely mortified, but his hips twitch upward anyway, like his body is begging for attention. His big, guilty brown eyes stay locked on yours, glassy and desperate. A long moment stretches between you while you watch him squirm, shame and arousal practically eating him alive. You lean in closer, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “That’s because you liked it,” you whisper. “You liked filling me up when you weren’t supposed to. You liked fucking up.”
His whole body tenses, his cock jerking with another helpless twitch. “Fuck…baby,” he whispers. “So fucking much.”
You let the silence sit for another beat, just to watch him sit with his admission. His hand flexes at his side like he’s dying to reach out and touch you – to grab your hips, pull you closer, bury his face between your thighs, and eat you out until you’re shaking and pushing him away. Anything to distract from the embarrassment of telling someone else how much he enjoyed coming inside you.
When you’re satisfied that you had made him wait long enough, you loosen your grip on his hair and slide your hand down to cup his jaw. “Joel,” you say softly. He responds with a hum, leaning into your touch. “Say it.”
Joel blinks, his breath shallow. “Say what?”
You lean in until your lips are barely an inch from his, “What you’re going to tell the pharmacist.”
Joel’s eyes flutter shut for a second, his lips parting slightly as he half-expects you to lean in and kiss him. When you don’t, he lets out a huff. After a moment, he relents, “Sorry ma’am,” he says, barely above a whisper. “Can I bother you for Plan B? I…I accidentally…” His sentence tapers off, embarrassment and arousal tying his tongue while you look at him expectantly. “She–she told me to pull out, but I couldn’t help myself.”
You tsk at him, a low, disappointed sound that makes his shoulder tense. You trail your fingers from where it cups his cheek, down the side of his neck, over the rapid thud of his heartbeat in his chest, until you reach his navel. You trace his happy trail with the pad of your pointer finger, purposefully keeping away from his more than interested cock. “Keep going,” you state, more demand than request. “You weren’t finished."
Joel looks at you wrecked, completely at your mercy as you continue teasing him with featherlight touches. “Baby…I–”
You cut him off mid-sentence, wrapping your fingers firmly around the thick base of his cock. He goes stock still, his eyes flying wide open as he lets out a sharp gasp, “Fuck–”. You hold him there, tight and possessive, feeling his cock throb hot and heavy in your palm, but refusing to stroke him.
“Keep going,” you say calmly, your thumb brushing lightly over the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft. “Don’t stop just because I have your cock in my hand.”
Joel licks his lips, eyes glued to yours, his thighs trembling as he fights the overwhelming urge to thrust up into your fist. “She told me to pull out,” he starts, your grip tightening. “…but I saw how pretty she looked on my cock and I–” He groans softly, enraptured by the way you’re looking at him. “I couldn’t help myself, baby. I–I just needed to feel you feel you full of me.”
You lean in close, nose brushing against the shell of his ear, and whisper, “Pathetic.”
A broken groan tears out of Joel’s chest, shame flooding his face. He jerks his hips involuntarily, eagerly chasing the heat of your palm. His body shakes – the big, strong man who’s always in control, trembling from a single whispered insult.
“Go on,” you purr in his ear. “Repeat what you’d say to the pharmacist. Word for word.”
Joel’s eyes squeeze shut, his voice is wrecked, cracking with every humiliating word. “...Sorry, ma’am. Can I get a Plan B? I accidentally came inside my girl. She told me to pull out but I…I couldn’t help but fill her up anyway.” His hips twitch helplessly, precome drooling from the tip and leaking over your fist.
“And why not,” you ask softly, adjusting your grip, your thumb swiping over the flushed, sensitive head.
Joel keens, his back arching off the bed. “Because–” he starts, swallowing down a shaky breath, “because she was squeezin’ me so good that I lost control.”
“I told you to pull out,” you remind him, thumb continuing to move.
He nods quickly, shame tightening in his throat. “I know, baby. I know. I did at first but…” Joel lets out a strangled whine, only furthering his embarrassment, “...fuck.”
“But what, Joel?” you ask, lips still brushing his ear in a tease. “Finish your sentence.” Your hand slides up his length in one smooth stroke, then back down to the base. He’s so fucking big in your grip, your fingers barely meeting around his shaft due to the sheer size of him. His cock is a complete mess, glistening and still slick with his earlier load.
Joel’s hands fist the sheets, needing to hold onto something, the fabric pulling away from the edge of the mattress as he fights for control. “I didn’t listen,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “Stuffed myself right back inside.”
You pull back just enough to see his face, his pupils blown with lust, his lips parted as he pants, desperate for more – desperate for something. “Good boy,” you praise. Joel’s entire body seizes up, his cock surging with want, as he attempts to push himself deeper into your grasp. You keep stroking him, the pace excruciating, letting your thumb swirl over the messy come-slick head on every upstroke. “Now tell her why you’re there,” you murmur.
Joel lets out a broken whine, hips jerking helplessly. His voice cracks as he forces the words out, shame and arousal twisting together so tightly he can barely speak. “ ‘Cause she needs the morning after pill,” he breathes out. “And it’s all my fault.” Joel shoves his hips up, spearing his cock into your grip as he starts fucking your fist in short, needy strokes. “All my fucking fault.”
The big, dominant Joel Miller is officially gone. In place is this desperate, leaking, shame-drenched version of him who can’t stop confessing how badly he fucked up – how badly he needed to come inside you – and how much he loved it.
“Greedy boy. You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
He doesn’t answer you. You let him use your hand to get off, watching his face go slack with pleasure before urging his hips down and slowing your hand. Your fingers tighten around him, just enough to control the pace, forcing his thrusts to become shallow and frustratingly restricted. Every time he tries to move, you ease off, keeping him right on the agonizing edge without letting him tip over.
“That’s it,” you croon softly, “Tell her exactly why you need it.”
Joel’s hands fist the sheets tighter, knuckles white as he bunches the fabric at his sides. “‘Cause–fuck…’cause I came inside you, baby,” he groans. “Pussy looked so good covered in my come that I just had to get back inside.”
You feel him swell impossibly bigger in your hand, the thick shaft pulsing in time with his heartbeat, as he teeters dangerously close to the edge. His balls draw up tight, the first warning of his impending orgasm.
Joel’s breath catches, his eyes starting to roll back, inches away from satisfaction. You let go, your hand pulling away completely, leaving his cock twitching and bobbing angrily in the air. He lets out a broken sound as his orgasm crests and then crashes without release. His cock kicks hard, pulsing uselessly, a thick bead of precome dribbling pathetically from the tip and sliding down his shaft. His hips buck in the air, every muscle straining as everything fades into a cruel, aching denial. He collapses towards you, his body practically shaking as he presses his forehead to your shoulder. “Fuck…baby…please…” he begs.
You let him ache, his chest heaving with quick, uneven breaths, his denied cock twitching and leaking against his stomach. Every heavy throb is visible as he attempts to gather himself. He tries to tamp down his arousal, but underneath is something deeper – raw, aching need.
You press a hand gently to his chest, urging him to lie flat and Joel obeys instantly, falling back onto the mattress fully and without protest. You swing a leg over him, straddling his hips, your slick folds parting around him. His head falls back with a guttural groan as you start to rock against him, the fat head of his cock dragging hot and slippery over your swollen clit making you both moan. You feel him shudder underneath you, a low groan vibrating through his chest as he curses silently, “...fuck, baby. Just like that.”
Joel’s hands fly to your thighs, fingers digging into your flesh like he’s barely holding himself together. His breathing is ragged, eyes half-lidded and desperate as he watches you use him. You tease him like that for a few more torturous seconds without giving him what he really needs, a needy whine slipping out before he can stop it.
Without hesitation, you take his cock in hand, lining him up with your entrance and sinking down all the way to the hilt. The stretch is perfect, your walls squeezing tight around him, greedy for more. A broken moan escapes both of you at the same time as Joel springs up, sitting up beneath you in a rush, one arm wrapping around your back as he pulls you into a messy, desperate kiss. Joel licks into your mouth like he’s starving for you. One hand slides up your back, while the other stays wrapped around your middle as he guides you harder onto his cock.
“Fuck, baby…” he pants between kisses, “you feel so goddamn good.” Joel’s forehead drops to your shoulder, breath hot against your skin as he lets you take complete control, utterly lost in the feeling of being buried inside you again.
“Keep going,” you say, pulling off of him until only the tip of him remains inside you, then slamming back down until he’s fully sheathed again. “Tell the pharmacist what you did.”
Joel’s brain is barely coherent. “Fuck–I–” His hands dig into your skin, almost like he’s afraid you’ll leave him ruined and desperate again. “M’sorry, ma’am,” he begins, his words somewhat slurred as you continue to mercilessly ride him, the wet heat of your cunt enveloping him over and over again. “Need a plan B for my–fuck– girl.” His voice cracks as you grind your clit against his pelvis, the coarse hair on his groin prickling into your skin. “I’m sorry,” he groans, starting to babble, the confession spilling out in desperate, shattered pieces. “So fucking sorry. Felt so good. Fuck, baby…you feel so good. Needed to fill you up.”
Joel is embarrassingly close already, his hips stuttering up to meet your rhythm. “Fuck, baby. Hop off–fuck, I’m gonna–” he gasps, starting to panic. His hands scramble frantically at your hips, trying to lift you off him to avoid further incident.
But you don’t let him. You slam down onto him one last time, taking him as deep as you can, rolling your hips in tight circles that eke him closer to the finish line. Your walls clench around him like a vice and Joel’s eyes widen in shock. “No–baby, wait–I can’t–fuck!”
His panicked warning dissolves into a guttural groan as his cock pulses violently inside you, his eyes rolling back into his head, vision going white, as thick, hot ropes of come flood you for the second time that afternoon. His entire body trembles beneath you, his fingers bruising your skin where he grips you as if you’re the only thing anchoring him to Earth.
The wet warmth of his spend spills from your cunt and drips down his shaft, coating him in his own mess. Joel’s face is slack, experiencing what one can only assume to be pure bliss – like nothing in the world exists except the tight, slick heat of your cunt milking him dry.
You ride the high right alongside him, your bodies in a perfect, filthy sync until your own orgasm crashes into you without warning. Your thighs lock tight around his hips as white-hot pleasure rips up your spine. You cry out, your head lolling back, his name slipping from your lips as every muscle shakes with wave after wave of mind-numbing pleasure.
Joel starts to slowly soften inside of you but doesn’t dare look down at the mess. “Still gotta go to the pharmacy, baby.”
The fluorescent lights of the pharmacy feel way too bright as Joel stands at the counter, posture rigid like he’s waiting on his own execution. The pharmacist, a no-nonsense type of woman in her fifties, offers him a polite smile. “How can I help you today?”
Joel’s face immediately burns red, his blush crawling all the way up to his ears. He rubs the back of his neck, glancing over at you like maybe you’ll save him from utter embarrassment, but you don’t. He clears his throat, an attempt at keeping himself from stuttering which immediately backfires as soon as he opens his mouth to speak. “Uh–I–I–uh…I need the, uh…the Plan B pill.”
The pharmacist doesn’t even blink, she just nods calmly and types something into the computer, “One moment, sir. I’ll grab that for you.”
Joel lets out an apprehensive breath, muttering under his breath while his fingers tap nervously on the counter. He prays the ground will just swallow him whole. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbles to himself.
The pharmacist returns with the small blue box and sets it on the counter, scanning the barcode. “Alright, if that’s it for today, that’ll be–”
“It’s my fault,” Joel blurts out, far too loud, before realizing his blunder. “I–I messed up.”
You watch the pharmacist’s eyebrows slowly lift. In truth, your hand reaches for him like you’re going to stop him, but the words tumble out of him quicker than expected. “She told me to pull out but I just lost my head.”
You bite down hard on your lip to keep from laughing, your face heating with a mix of second-hand embarrassment and delight. The pharmacist blinks, completely unfazed. “Oh. Well…it happens. That’ll be $54.11.”
Joel looks like he’s two seconds away from melting into the floor. His neck and ears are bright red, jaw clenched so tight you’re afraid he’s going to pop a vein in his forehead. He fumbles for his wallet, dropping his debit card with a loud clatter, cursing quietly under his breath. You place a steady hand on his bicep and he manages to swipe the card with shaking fingers, refusing to look at you.
When the transaction is complete, the pharmacist hands him the bag, telling him she hopes he has a good day. He can’t even respond with words. He raises his hand, nodding his head and gently takes you by the arm, leading you out of the pharmacy as quickly as he can. When he reaches the sidewalk, he turns towards you, the bulge evident in his jeans, his voice dropping into a hushed whisper only you can hear. “Baby…I swear I ain’t ever been that embarrassed in all my life.”
The minute the front door clicks shut behind you, Joel lets out a heavy exhale, dropping the keys to his truck on the entryway table. You barely make it two steps before he reaches for you, grabbing your hand and pulling you into him, your back flush against his broad chest. His face drops into the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin like he needs the contact to steady himself.
He turns you to face him and his eyes are soft, filled with adoration and love. The flush of humiliation hasn’t fully faded, his ears tinted pink as he cocks his head to the side and then leans in to kiss you. The kiss starts slow, as if he’s asking for permission, but the moment you kiss him back, it deepens – slow and hungry in the softest way. His hands slide down your back, palms warm and steady, pressing you closer until there’s no space left between your bodies. “Baby…”, he whispers, his lips not leaving yours. “...you were real mean to me.”
You smile, humming in agreement, “Yeah, you gonna let me do it again?”
Joel swallows, eyes dropping to your mouth, his response somewhat shy, “Jesus…I–yeah,we’ll talk about it.”
His forehead rests against yours and he breathes you in for a long moment, then kisses you again. His arms tighten around you as the tension starts to bleed out of his shoulders. “Thank you,” he murmurs, the words barely more than a breath. “For helpin’ me take care of it. For not bein’ mad. For…hell, for everything.”
You feel his body relax fully into yours like he’s finally letting the weight of the day settle. His thumb keeps stroking your cheek in slow, gentle circles as he holds you close, safe in the quiet of your apartment. “Maybe it’s time we start trying,” you suggest. His head whips towards you, eyes wide and curious, trying to gauge if you actually mean it. You nod as if answering his silent question and you swear you’ve never seen him happier.
Pairing: Daddy's best friend + mean!joel miller x f!reader
Summary: It was just supposed to be an easy fix. On the stuffed animal, thighs gripping it and in your mind your daddy's best friend. Surely, you hadn't planned for him to catch you. Or to bend you over his knee. Or to be balls deep into you the next moment, right?
Warnings: 18+, Smut, Mean!joel (he is back!!), huge age gap (20s and 60s), grinding on stuffed bear, orgasm denial, spanking, size kink, pet names, praise kink, slight degradation, pinv, clit rubbing, unprotected sex, crying, slight dub-con, darcyphilia, slight fauxcest (Joel calls himself uncle), dbf!joel, stern but also sweet joel, slight hair pulling, no outbreak
A/N: ummm my ADHD has been doing parkour in my brain so Sleazy!joel is taking his sweet time 😭 BUT I did write this little filler based on the mean!joel idea I had a few days ago, so enjoy this filthy mess pookies <333
Being home again is…unusual, to say the least.
Memories, emotions, things you thought you’d outgrown. You kneel besides an open box, sorting through old notebooks and trinkets, but your mind keeps wandering.
When you straighten up, your eyes catch the stuffed animal sitting in the corner of your bed, its fur a little worn, its button eye slightly crooked.
It looks like its been already waiting for you.
But you know that your dad mentioned that Joel was gonna stop by and pick up some tools he wants to borrow for a weekend project and—that could be nothing unusual, since Joel has been like an uncle to you while growing up but right now with the house so empty and your thoughts running, you find yourself giving in to that secret itch, straddling your old stuffed bear on the bed.
That plush toy, with its threadbare fur and button eyes, has been your guilty escape for years, especially with thoughts of Joel creeping into your fantasies back then—his broad shoulders, that deep voice, the way he handles everything around the house while having that strict, authoritative way about him—the same tone your dad uses, only sharper, meaner, and somehow aimed always right at you.
Your skirt is bunched around your waist, panties tugged aside, and you're rocking slowly, the soft seam of the bear's belly pressing juuuust right against your aching clit.
But lost in the rhythm...you do not hear the front door opening downstairs.
Heavy footsteps echo up the stairs, pausing outside your door. A knock—light, hesitant.
"Hey, kiddo? Your dad around? He said he'd leave them tools in the kitchen, but I figured I'd check up here too." Joel's voice; that thick, rough, southern drawl wrapping around the words like warm gravel.
Before you can even respond, the door creaks open, and there he is...tall and big, flannel shirt sleeves rolled up over forearms corded with muscle, jeans hugging his solid thighs.
His eyes widen as he takes in the scene: you frozen mid-grind, thighs spread over the bear, your face flushing hot with embarrassment.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he growls, "What in the hell are you doin', girl? Humpin' away on some goddamn stuffed bear like a bitch in heat? Your daddy'd skin you alive if he saw this shit."
He doesn't yell. Yet. But there's an edge to it, stern, like he's caught you sneaking cookies, not this.
His jaw tightens, and he averts his eyes for a beat, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, the picture of a man wrestling with himself.
'Shouldn't even be in here. This ain't right. Girl's barely outta her teens, and here I am, starin' at... fuck.' Guilt flashes across his weathered face, creasing those lines around his eyes, but his boots stay rooted to the floorboards.
He doesn't back out. Instead, his gaze flicks back to you, conflicted, a flicker of something darker stirring beneath the disapproval—his jeans tensing slightly at the crotch, betraying him.
You scramble to pull your skirt down, heart pounding, but the words stick in your throat.
"Joel, I—it's not what it—"
He steps closer, slow, like he's approaching a skittish animal, his big frame making the room feel small.
"Save the excuses, honey. What would your daddy think, huh? Me walkin' in on his little girl like this, all desperate and spread out on a damn toy? He trusts me to look after you when he's out, not to...hell, this is a mess." His tone's firm, paternal almost, laced with that sternness, but there's a coo in the way he says 'honey,' softening the rebuke just a touch.
He reaches out, his large hand gentle as he grips your upper arm, pulling you off the bear with ease.
The toy tumbles to the side, fur matted with your slickness, and you stand there on shaky legs, panties still to the side, feeling tiny next to him.
"Now, you listen here," he says, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed besides him as he lowers his weight onto the mattress.
His thigh presses against yours, warm and solid, and you can feel the heat radiating from him—the hard line of his cock straining against his jeans, impossible to ignore.
"You're better than this, sweetheart. Rubbin' yourself raw on some childhood relic 'cause those boys at school ain't cuttin' it? That's no way to learn about your body." He pauses, hand resting on your knee, thumb traicng slow circles. "But actin' like your uncle, I gotta teach you right. Can't have you hurtin' yourself on nothin' but fluff."
Your breath hitches at the contact, arousal pooling hotter despite the embarrassment.
"Joel, please...I didn't mean for you to see," you whisper, but your eyes drop to the bulge in his pants, betraying your thoughts.
He chuckles low, a rumble in his chest, but it's not cruel—more like a man who's seen too much and knows how to handle it.
"Oh, I see plenty, girl. And that pretty face all flushed? Makes a man wanna help." His hand slides up your thigh, calluses rough but careful, pushing your skirt higher, taking a peek of your pussy. "But first, a little reminder of what happens when you get into trouble. Over my knee—c'mon now."
He pats his lap sternly, but his eyes soften. "It'll sting, but you'll thank me later, honey."
Trembling, you drape yourself across his lap, ass up, the position exposing you fully as your skirt flips over. He's so, so big—your small frame fits perfectly over his thick thigh and you feel his hardness press against your belly, a promise of what's to come.
"Good girl, takin' this like you should," he murmurs, praise slipping in before the first smack lands—firm but measured, the crack echoing softly. It stings, heat blooming, and you yelp, tears pricking your eyes.
"Easy now," he coos, hand rubbing the spot immediately after. "That's for bein' sneaky in your daddy's house. He raised you all good—don't need you ruinin' it on toys."
Another spank, a bit harder, on the other cheek, and you squirm, the friction against his cock making him groan quietly.
"There you go, your skin's turnin' pink so pretty."
He alternates, five or six measured swats, each followed by a stroke or a soft word—"Breathe through it, baby, you're doin' fine" building the burn without overwhelming.
Tears well up, spilling hot down your cheeks, and he notices, thumb brushing one away when you turn your head.
"Cryin' already, huh?" He chuckles.
By the end, your ass throbs, red and sensitive, panties soaked through.
He helps you up gently, but his eyes darken as he tugs the fabric aside, exposing your dripping folds, middle finger touching your lips.
"So wet from a spankin'. Pussy's all shiny and swollen—too sweet for what those boys got, I bet. But I can fix that, teach you how a real man handles it."
His middle finger stays between your folds as he stands, unzipping his jeans, his cock jumping free—massive, thick and veined, easily bigger than anything you've ever had.
"Back on that bear, c'mon" he orders, guiding you with a hand on your waist. "Gonna show you the difference, but you grind nice and slow—learn to build it just right."
You straddle the toy again, the fur already damp and sticky from before, a yucky reminder as it clings to your slick skin.
Lowering yourself, you begin to rub tentatively, the plush dragging against your clit in messy slides—gross, the way it mats further with your arousal, but thrilling under his watch.
Joel positions himself behind you on the bed, his weight making it dip, hands spanning your hips easily.
"That's it, babygirl, move those hips," he praises, voice gravelly as his cockhead nudges your entrance, hot and blunt. But he doesn't thrust yet—teases, sliding along your folds. "Feel how big I am? Your little hole's flutterin' so scared but wantin'. Your daddy would have my hide for this, but you need teachin'—can't let you settle for less."
Guilt flickers in his tone, but he presses forward, just the tip nudging you, stretching your tight walls with a burn that makes you gasp.
"Oh—Joel, it's too much," you whimper, tears starting again, body tensing as you grind on the bear, the fur chafing wetly, adding to the overstimulation.
"Shh, easy, sweetheart," he coos, one hand stroking your back tenderly while the other fists your hair lightly, not yanking hard—just guiding your head back to arch you. "Breathe, honey. You're so tight, squeezin' like you were made for this fat cock. Just the head—feel it? Push back slow now."
He inches deeper on your movement, talking you through each bit: "There, darlin', another inch. Your pussy's openin' up so good, even if it hurts a lil'. Cry if you need to; those tears tell me you're feelin' it right."
He groans when you sob, his hips twitching, but he keeps it paternal, praising: "Good girl, takin' your lesson."
One hand grips your hips, his cock entering your walls. "Going deeper now—yeah, juuuust like that."
You rock on the bear, the wetness intensifying—the plush soaked, strands sticking to your thighs and folds, a filthy grind that makes squelching sounds with each roll. It's degrading, the childhood toy turned lewd, but his voice anchors you.
"Grind harder on that thing," he instructs, meaner now. "but don't you dare to cum yet. Earn it by lettin' me fill you proper."
He sinks halfway, the stretch agonizingly full, your small hole straining around his girth.
"What would your daddy say? Hm? His girl stretched on her uncle's dick."
Tears stream freely now, mixing pain and pleasure as he bottoms out finally, balls resting against the bear's fur.
"All in—feel me in your belly? Hold still, darlin', adjust to it." He holds, stroking your sides, cooing praises: "Proud of you, takin' every inch like a champ."
Then, after a while, thrusts start—slow drags out, then pushes in, talking through them: "Out easy...easy. Now in...deep. That's it."
You cry harder, the dual sensations overwhelming—the bear's damp fur rubbing your clit in sticky, gross friction, his massive length pounding relentlessly.
"That's it...real deep." He whispers.
"Joel—please, it hurts so good," you sob, grinding down.
"Yeah? Tell me more, honey," he urges, hand leaving your hair to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple. "How's that big cock feel compared to your toy? Deeper than any boy could go—gonna make you forget 'em all."
His pace builds, hips snapping, but he denies you—slowing when you clench.
"Not yet, babygirl. Hold it for me. Cry those pretty tears but don't cum."
Minutes drag, drawn out with his mix: harsh commands like 'Take it harder—learn it, that's it.' and tender coos like 'Almost there, baby, you're perfect.'
Your tears straining your cheeks, your cunt clenching down, as you try to hold the orgasm.
"Milking me so well. Pussy is eager to cum, huh?" He asks, stroking your sides. His thrusts quicken, head pressing right into sweet spot in you.
Finally, as your body quakes, he growls approval.
"Alright, cum now, honey. Real slow. Let go around my cock and on that bear." His thumb presses your clit against the plush, rubbing through the mess, while he pushes his cock deep into your cunt. You shatter—screaming, tears flooding, grinding wildly as waves crash, his thumb amplifying the release.
Joel follows, burying even deeper, cock releasing hot spurts and filling you up slowly. "That's it, here it comes. Take it real deep into that small pussy."
He collapses over you briefly then, breath hot on your neck, cock still releasing the smallest amounts of cum into you. He pulls out slightly, watching everything drip down onto the bear.
"Your dad's gonna kill me," he mutters, his hand strokes your back almost tenderly. "But you needed that lesson. Don't let me catch you on that toy again—unless I'm here to fix it."
I feel like i could've made him a bit meaner...but idk.
tags: MDNI, SMUT, wedding night, newly weds, husband javier!peña x wife!reader, wholeee lotta fuckin, set back in 1990s, still during Pablo Escobar but they are in Texas for the wedding, bridal lingerie, pussy eating against wall, desperate javi, carrying, fingering, oral (f + m receiving), doggy style, blowjob, throat fucking, cowgirl, missionary, p in v, loootss of dirty talk, orgasm denial, mutual orgasms, creampie, kinda sorta breeding kinkkk, aftercare and inclination of round 2😵💫.
summary: you and javi’s wedding night🤍
dividers by: @/lariesographic and @/ioveartfilm
6.3k words
“Ah — javi! You’re gonna drop me!” You shriek as your husband of eight hours tossed you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing, your legs dangling down his front and your white heel-clad feet lightly kicking at his stomach, your head dangling around his ass and if you were being honest, you weren’t complaining about the view. Your hands scramble around his lower back for some kind of stability as Javier marches down the hallway of your hotel until he meets the door of the Wedding Suite.
A smirk plays on his lips, one of his large arms wrapped around the backs of your thighs while the other assists on landing a sharp, playful smack on your butt. “Not gonna drop you. This is tradition baby — the groom carryin’ his wife to bed. Can’t argue with traditions.” He says, reaching into his slack pocket and removing the key card from it.
This was the first time the two of you were actually seeing your wedding suite considering you had to get ready apart. You swat his back lightly. “I can argue about you dropping me on my face though.” You giggle.
Javier lets out a low grunt as the door unlocks with a click. He quickly pulls the handle down and pushes the heavy door open with his hip, successfully making it inside without anybody falling. “There,” he concludes, pulling you from over his shoulder until your feet were back on the ground, stabilising you with a hand on your waist when you wobbled on your heels. “Would you look at that? Didn’t fall. Now C’mere and give me a kiss. Been waiting to feel those pretty fuckin’ lips on me properly all day.” He demands, his voice that rough growl that you now recognised as his bedroom voice from being in a relationship with him for the past two years. His hair was slightly dishevelled from the day of first dances and I-do’s — a black tendril of hair falling — from the rest of the strands that were slicked back — over his forehead, his brown eyes warm with love and something else a little deeper — a little dirtier.
This was the night you’d been dreaming of ever since you were eleven years old using your pillow case as a vail and forcing your stuffed animals to be your wedding guests. You wouldn’t have ever thought that the cocky, slightly intimidating DEA agent you worked with in the Embassy would ever become more than an office crush, let alone your husband. It felt surreal in this incredibly exciting, terrifying way.
And as beautiful as the ceremony was, how emotional your vows were and how breathtaking Javier looked as he watched in awe of you walking down the aisle, the part that continued to play in your mind throughout the day of mingling with family in your home state and dancing with Javier’s incredibly sweet dad, was what tonight would bring. How it would feel getting brought back to the hotel room and having your dress practically torn off you. How large Javi’s cock would feel in all the different positions the two of you would experience together. How mouth watering his voice would sound in your ear as he pounded your cunt from behind or the groans from him as you sucked and stroked his cock.
You could only imagine his reaction when he saw the special white, lace, bridal lingerie you were wearing for him underneath your dress. You grin at the desperation in his words and slowly lean in to capture his lips in a kiss that started off slow but quickly developed into something hungrier. Both of Javi’s hands come to your waist, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as he spun you around and pinned you up against the wall next to the door, a low growl escaping his chest as he bit down on your lower lip — a silent plea for you to part your lips for him.
You do so with delight — more than happy to feel the warmth of his tongue slip between your lips. When he does, you moan around it, lavishing in the drool worthy sensation. One hand stays firmly on your waist, keeping you pinned against the wall as he brings his other up along your jaw, his thumb rubbing the soft skin of your cheek before trailing up behind your neck.
Your hands tangle in the fabric of his black suit jacket, eventually pulling the item off of his shoulders until it was a forgotten pile on the floor. Javier’s fingers tangle in your hair, wrapping the long strands around his hand until it were secure enough for him to tug.
You break the kiss, pulling away as you gasp for breath. The taste of his saliva and the smell of his cologne is intoxicating to you — making your brain feel disoriented and your hands sweaty. “Fuck,” you breath, a surprised giggle escaping your lips. “Not even gonna let me check out the room properly?”
Javi smiles humorously, dropping his hand from your now, slightly tangled, hair and cupping your face with both his hands. “Just need you, hermosa. Looking so beautiful in this dress,” his voice enticing and seductive as he steps closer, his body flush with yours as he raises his knee towards your thighs, pressing it directly between them. The action makes you whimper, your pupils dilating with lust. “Making me think about that pretty pussy. How it’d feel to get on my knees right here and just.. fuckin’ taste it.”
Your breath catches, your fingers loosening in his jacket as his words wash over you. Your cunt is now pulsing rapidly beneath your underwear, your clit feeling stiff and swollen. “You wanna taste my pussy?” You ask dumbly — flushed and lightheaded.
Javi chuckles at your flustered state, his hand slipping down from your face until it could squeeze a handful of your breast. “Mm,” he confirms, his head tilting to the side as his thumb brushes your nipple through your dress. “Will you give me that, Mr’s Peña?”
The name slides off his tongue so easily and it makes your stomach flutter, a grin decorating your lips. “Yes, Mr Peña.”
“Yeah,” he nods cockily, leaning back into your lips to brush them lazily. “That’s what I thought.” He drops to his knees at that, the toes of his shoes digging into the hotel room carpet. His hands come up to lift the fabric of your dress, but you beat him to it by slipping the straps of it down, the dress easily sliding off your body and to your feet with one tug from Javier.
You were then left with just the infamous bridal wedding lingerie set and heels and for a second, Javi just stares in complete awe. The set was beautiful, one that you’d nervously shopped for in a small lingerie store back in Bogotá one evening while feeling brave. The main piece was a white lace bustier that sat like a corset and a bra combined. The lace is sheer and floral, meaning that your perked nipples were visible through the thin fabric — the cool air hitting them a little suddenly. The panties matched, same colour and same fabric. They sat low on your hips and the thin straps at the side created a slightly strappy, cut-out look, echoing the delicate, ornamental style of the top.
But surprisingly — not underwhelmingly — his hand comes up to your thigh, about three inches above your knee where your garter sat. It was a pale blue satin ribbon gathered into gentle ruffles that sat beautifully against your skin. His voice comes out a little low, a little strangled. “Was wonderin’ what your something blue was.”
And it was true, that was your something blue. Something you’d borrowed last minute from Connie — Steve’s wife who you had formed quite a close relationship with considering you and Javi both work with her husband. It wasn’t even something you’d thought about much but he seemed to like it.
You smile behind your bit lip, dropping your head back against the wall behind you. You couldn’t conjure a response — not when he was so close to your cunt which had now — undoubtedly — created a dark spot onto your panties, one likely visible to Javi. He takes your lack of response as a sign to get cracking, so he lifts one of your feet up, removing your foot from your heel — the freedom from the shoe feeling satisfying — especially so when Javier presses a kiss to the bridge of your foot before repeating the action with the other until you were barefoot.
He moves his face up toward your covered pussy, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder for easier access. He starts to plant slow, teasing, wet kisses over the lace, the contact making you gasp and send your hand shooting down to fist his short hair. “God — please, Javi. You know i need it.”
“Yeah,” he coos, his other hand that wasn’t holding your waist steady coming down to rub a circle into your clit over your panties. “I know you do, amorcito. And I’m gonna give it to you. Just gotta have some patience.” And then, slowly guiding your leg that was hanging over his back to the floor again, he tugs the tight fitting panties down your thighs and legs until they are left at your feet. He assists you in stepping out of them, the air hitting your cunt. You had shaved completely for the occasion and it was a nice change for both you and javi, although Javier couldn’t care less about the baldness of your pubic area. Same pussy, same woman.
He manoeuvres your leg back to its previous position, his mouth now overwhelmingly close to your core that his breath was ghosting over your folds. “Fuck,” he curses to himself, leaning in and pressing a kiss directly over your swollen clit. You wince at the sensitivity of your nerves, his mouth, even in the brief contact, it sends a surge of electricity through your veins. “Just making a fuckin’ mess of yourself, baby. Pussy’s fuckin’ dripping for me.”
You’re about to open your mouth to chide him over his stalling, but your mind is quickly put at ease when he delves straight between your legs, pulling you closer with his hand on your waist greedily as his tongue laps at your folds before bringing his tongue upwards to your clit, finding the little bud easily and sucking it between his lips.
A sharp shriek is forced from you, your hand tightening in your husbands hair as the other slams back behind you to find some kind of steadiness on the wall. Your knees buckle slightly but with Javier’s hands holding you so firmly, there’s no doubt that he’d keep you upright. “Oh, fuck — gimme your fingers, need your fingers.” You beseech shakily, your finger nails undoubtedly leaving tiny crescent moons in the skin of his scalp, likely something you will have to dote over the next morning when you see the scarring.
Javi immediately complies with your request, pulling back momentarily from your pussy with a flushed, wet face and bringing his hand up to your mouth, holding his middle and ring finger to your lips. “Suck for me.” He orders, his voice firm yet still carrying that gentle fondness for you.
You, of course, do not hesitate in taking the digits between your lips avidly, bobbing your hand as your drool coats them. When he’s satisfied with the lubrication of them, he pulls them out, appreciating the pruney sight of his slick fingers and the red smear coated on them from your lipstick. “Atta’girl,” he praises, taking them back down to your core and gently circling your entrance with them. You sigh in satisfaction as he sinks them in inch by inch until they are fully sheathed within your cunt, your wet, velvety walls hugging him appreciatively.
You groan at the fullness, your head slamming back against the wall once again quite painfully. Javi looks up once, checking you were okay before diving back in to continue his sucking on your collection of nerves. “No need to hurt yourself, baby girl. I know it’s a lot.” He murmurs patronisingly into your clit, the vibrations of his voice against your flesh making you keen in pleasure.
“Please just fuck me, Javi. It’s all I can think about.” You beg, eyes squeezing shut from the heaviness of them, courtesy of the way Javi’s fingers curled upward to that spongy spot and the way he applied just the right pressure on your clit. It was intoxicating, leaving you desperate for more. It just wasn’t enough and you were feeling greedy, greedy for more of him, whatever he was willing to provide you with.
He pulls back from between your thighs, looking up at you smugly. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing — like he was intentionally making you crave more. His fingers stay buried inside of your cunt, folding up and down more rapidly now, making it harder to force your eyes open. “What’s all you can think about?” He questions, cocking one of his eyebrows as he feigns oblivion to what you wanted.
You groan exasperatedly, gritting your teeth in frustration. He knew exactly what you wanted, but Javier being Javier meant that he would push and push until you described in detail what you wanted. And from an outsiders perspective, it doesn’t look too challenging, but when you’re pinned against a wall, your juices coating your thighs while you tried to contain your desire, it was easier thought than done. “God — want.. want your cock Javi, need it inside of me.” You say at last, the words feeling rattled coming out of your mouth
Javi didn’t need any more than that. See, he liked to act as if he were the one in control — which ultimately, he was in this case — but the truth was, that pussy of yours got him more fucked up than he would like to admit. And right now, which the way his cock was throbbing in his pants, his balls pulled tight and full of cum, he couldn’t really resist.
He pulls himself up off his knees and in one swift movement, he pulls your body up into his arms. You were facing him with your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms looping around his head as he carried you in through to the room properly, tossing you down on the bed and making you squeal at the harsh yet soft landing while he climbed over you.
You giggle when his body covers yours, one of his hands gripping your cheek while the other got to work on unbuttoning his slacks and wriggling out of them and his boxers, his erect, weeping length slapping down against your inner thigh. You both moan in almost perfect unison when Javi brings his lips down to yours, smiling into the kiss at your giddiness. The proximity of his cock and your core felt agonising as both your lips moved against one another, your hands coming up to fist the fabric of his dress shirt.
He pulls back with a gasp, his lips slightly pinker from your lipstick as he looked down at you in awe. He takes a second to just admire you, your hair flowing beautifully around your shoulders, slightly messed up from his own desperation, how flushed your skin looked, how you panted at him, pupils blown wide with desire and love for the man above you.
His thumb delicately brushes over your lips, your mouth, almost on instinct, puckering up to press an absentminded kiss to the digit. And the smile on his face is one that you’ve only recently noticed is one reserved for you. Not a tight, because-I-have-to one, but a real, genuine one that made your chest tighten every time you seen it.
“You look so beautiful like this, y’know that?” He says more as a statement than a question, the hand that was on your cheek now trailing down to the babydoll/bra that you were wearing. He could see your pretty, peaked nipples through the thin embroidery and the sight of them, so stiff and swollen made his cock strain even harder. “My pretty wife. Tell me how you want it, sweetheart. You wanna lay on your back?” He asks pensively, squeezing one of your breasts in his hand and rubbing a circle into your covered nipple.
“Hmm,” you ponder, reaching up cupping the side of his face, delicately running your nails over his jawline in the way he liked. “Wanna be on my belly,” you decide, starting to sit up, forcing Javi to do the same. Your voice drops to that low, sensual tone — the one you always had when you were turned on.
Both of Javi hands come down to your hips, his fingers assisting his hands in squeezing the soft flesh before flipping you over onto your stomach rather harshly, your body bouncing slightly on the mattress with the impact. You moan at the sudden roughness, enjoying the way he manhandled you.
He positions himself behind you, his hand reaching for your upper back and quickly undoing the back clasp of your babydoll top and watching as the supple flesh of your breasts spill free from the confines of the cups. Javi leans over you so his front is flush with your back, his arms dropping down beneath you to fondle your soft tits.
You moan softly when he tweaks one of your nipples, the stimulation feeling satisfying. You arch your back prettily for him, leaning back until your ass was flush with his cock and subtly grinding into it. Javier growls at the sensation, the bouncy, soft flesh feeling unreal on his swollen cock head. He smirks, one hand coming down hard on your cheek to watch it ripple and heat under his touch. “You wanna grind now?” He asks sneeringly. “Weren’t you just begging for my cock a second ago? And now you wanna stall?”
You whimper meekly, laying the side of your face down into the soft, white comforter as a pout washes over your face. “Well fuck me then, Javi. What’s stopping you?”
He chuckles at your neediness, using both hands to spread your asscheeks before grabbing his cock and giving it a few strokes. He positions himself between your legs, running his head up and down your folds teasingly before settling on notching it inside of your hole. The slight, initial stretch takes you back a little — like it always does. The feeling of his wide tip pushing past those nerves even the tiniest bit making you gasp and fist the sheets.
“Oh believe me,” he starts, both his hands gripping your hips as he slams inside of you aggressively until he’s buried to the hilt, his large cock pushing through your walls intrusively until they had no other choice but to adjust. Even with how wet your cunt was, his thick cock never failed to bring tears to your eyes. “Nothing is stopping me.” He finishes through gritted teeth, letting out a loud moan as he smacks your asscheek once again, his head falling forward in ecstasy with how tight you were squeezing him.
A sudden cry is forced from your throat — it now feeling hoarse with how sharp it was — from how agonisingly good it felt. Javier starts to pump his cock in and out of you now at a steady pace, a fucked out smile crossing your lips as your body shook from his thrusts. He could get so goddamn deep from this angle and it felt so overwhelming yet so pleasurable at the same time. His soft lower stomach smacks against your ass with every movement of his hips, both of his hands coming off your body to urgently rip the buttons open on his waist coat and dress shirt, the two of them hanging mindlessly off of his shoulders as his hands resume their spot on your hips, his finger tips likely indenting your fragile body with how hard he was holding you.
“Just wanna get fucked hard, huh? Just greedy for cock, ain’t that right?” He taunts through his teeth, his chest going red with pleasure and the heat of being so domineering. Your moans turn pornographic as you try to scramble for words, anything to respond with.
You let out several whimpering gasps as you try and form a sentence, the way Javier’s cock curved up into your g-spot getting the better of you. Tears spill from your eyes, heavy and hot streaming down your cheeks as you get used like a rag doll. “Dick’s so fucking good, Javi,” you manage to sob out, your voice a quivering wreck as you let the pleasure in your stomach over take you. “Gonna cum already.”
And you were — going to cum already. With the way his balls slapped against your sore, puffed clit and how his dick just brushed that sensitive spot so perfectly, you were already feeling your orgasm bubble to the surface — one that you knew would be overwhelming with how fast it was arriving.
“Yeah? That dick just so fucking good that you’re gonna soak my cock already?” Javi chokes, his tone of voice almost like he didn’t believe you. He brings his hands back down to your ass and spreads your cheeks once again, wanting to get a view of that pussy sucking in his cock. The sight makes him groan and you nod in response to his question.
But before your walls even have a chance to clamp down on his length, he’s pulling his dick from within you — the skin of it now slick and shiny from your arousal. Your hands drop their grasp in the sheets, your pussy pulsing around nothing as you desperately pull yourself backwards — chasing his touch.
“J-Javi! What the — fuck? I was right there!” You exclaim in confusion, sitting up slightly to roll over onto your back with the assistance of your husband. Your met with a flushed face, multiple sweaty tendrils falling over his forehead. His chest is now bare, those strong arms and biceps looking even more inviting than usual with how tense he was, likely because he had just deprived himself of an orgasm too.
Javier wets his bottom lip, helping you up onto your knees as you stare at him in confusion. “Yeah, I know you were. Want you facin’ me when you cum on my cock, baby. Don’t worry, you’ll get what you want. But first..” he starts, holding his cock between two fingers as your eyes dart down to the thick length bobbing between his thighs. “First I want you to suck this dick. Show me how much you wanna cum, hermosa.”
His breaths were harsh, almost aggressive like it was taking everything within in him not to just pounce on you and fuck you stupid. Clearly, he wanted to drag this out and apparently, make you work for that climax your craved so deeply. You bit down on your lip, looking down at his cock. A pearly ring had been created at the base with a mix of his precum but the majority being how slick you were. It made your core clench with embarrassment and arousal.
Without responding, you drop to your belly and shuffle towards Javier, opening your mouth welcomingly to invite his dick. Javi grins — delighted that his plan was being accomplished as he places his swollen tip between your pink lips, the sensation of your warm mouth enveloping him nearly sending him over the edge. “That’s my girl,” he grunts, his hand dropping into your hair as you sink down on his length, sputtering as you attempt to make it down to root of his cock which contained that pretty residue from your cunt — the thought of tasting yourself on him making your vision blurry with tears.
You garble a moan around him as your tongue finally reaches far enough to lap at the liquid, the tangy, unfamiliar taste of yourself making your eyes roll back prettily as you start to bob your head up and down on his length, fucking his cock into your throat again and again.
Javier looks down at you in a mix of pride, pleasure and arrogance. The glimmer in his eyes accompanying the mischievous smirk tracing up his lips. You force your eyes to open, keeping them on his while you try and control your gag reflex.
You give your sensitive throat a break as you glide your lips back up to his tip, swirling your tongue around it knowing just how enjoyable that was for him. The heavy feeling of the hot, wet muscle on his sensitive cock head was overwhelming to say the least, despite Javi’s attempts at keeping his composure. His smirk falters as the hand that wasn’t gripping your hair falls down to brace on the mattress, a deep groan following.
He exhaled shakily at how teasing and delicate you were being to those cluster of glands, his lips parting ever so slightly in satisfaction. This fills you with gratification and prompts you to sever eye contact and pull back from his dick, bringing one of your hands up to stroke him while you took a break to talk. A string of saliva attaches you to his length, the sight probably messy and dirty but not phasing you in the moment.
“You wanna fuck my mouth, Javi? You seem to be having a real good time.” You ask alluringly, spitting a glob of saliva onto his dick to sever the connection of your spit and his manhood.
Javi just about falls to the floor at your question. The way you ask it in a such a sultry manner — a way that is so unlike you in real life, it fills him with something that made it uneasy to breath properly through his nose. You were so confident about it too, something that always made him weak in the bedroom. “Fuck, baby. Are you sure?” He asks genuinely, not wanting you to feel obligated into doing something out of your comfort zone just for his benefit.
Your heart melts a little at his check in, but with how turned on you were feeling, you didn’t feel the need to prove that you wanted this. So instead of replying, you place both of your hands beneath your body, looking up at him kneeling above you with a smug expression.
Javier can’t contain himself anymore. Taking his cock in his fist, he slots it between your lips and thrusts his hips forward harshly, filling your throat and making you gag a little uncontrollably around him. He pauses to let you get used to the intrusion, allowing your throat to relax and for your gag reflex to calm down.
When you nod up at him with readiness, he starts to rock his hips back and forth, not roughly, but with enough fire behind his eyes to make you whimper. Your saliva drips down onto your chin, spilling onto your chest lewdly and the sight makes Javier snarl, his teeth clenched hard enough to break one.
“Qué chica más sucia, ¿eh? Just suckin’ and spitting on my cock and now you’re letting me fuck this pretty face? Fuuuck.” Javier grunts through his teeth, reaching down and cupping his heavy balls, a sharp hiss coming through his teeth when your tongue slides around his shaft when he thrusts inside your mouth once again. The feeling was unlike anything Javi had ever felt and no coloured contacts could cover the fact that his eyes were darkening significantly into a black rather than their natural brown.
It was taking over him — that mouth of yours, how you looked up at him with such ballsiness yet submission. It made him feel significant, like he was actually worth pleasing. That sensation in his balls made his pink tip swell in your mouth with every thrust. He felt so fucking sensitive down there, his gut clenching as the point of no return approached him. He couldn’t leave you hanging, not on your wedding night now matter how badly he wanted to explode in that perfect mouth of yours.
Mid thrust, just when you are expecting Javier to push back into your mouth fully, he pulls away from you, forcing his cock out of your mouth with a heave for breath, a bead of sweat dropping from his forehead. You make a sound of confusion but he quickly quiets you by laying down and signalling you to straddle him urgently. “Need that pussy. Was gonna cum if I didn’t stop you.” He confesses breathlessly, assisting you with a hand on your waist to straddle him, his slippery tip prodding your gooey, soaked entrance — the smell of sex thick and intoxicating in the air.
You breath out shakily, clutching his bare shoulders as you sink down on his length slowly, the stretch feeling a little less intense in this position. “You want me to ride you?” You ask quietly, your forehead bumping his, your sweaty chests colliding with one another as your cunt completely envelopes him.
You don’t move — not yet at least. You stay sitting on his cock until his eyes flick up to yours, a little less lust filled and a little more emotional now as he gazes back into yours. He nods, both hands gripping your hips gently as he leans in to brush your lips. You reciprocate the kiss immediately, moving against his mouth slowly and unhurried as you slowly ground your hips to move his dick inside of you, feeling him brush against that special spot perfectly at this angle. You didn’t bounce dramatically, you just simply allowed yourself to live in the moment after all the roughness from before. Just two bodies moving together to make the other feel good.
When you pull back, you smile bashfully, leaning your forehead against his fully as a giggle passes your lips. “I can’t believe we’re married.” You whisper, moaning softly when he moves his own hips to assist you and ensure that you weren’t doing all of the work yourself. Your clit rubs up against the collection of half-neatly trimmed hairs on his pubic area — the friction feeling electrifying.
Javi smiles a little crookedly, one of his hands leaving your hips and coming up to hold the back of your neck delicately. His voice dips a little lower — not serious, just genuine. “Are you happy?” He asks, his cock twitching inside of you as he spoke. “Like — really happy?” And you can’t help but notice the hint of insecurity in his tone, like he’s afraid of the answer. Sometimes you got the impression that Javier didn’t understand your love for him — that sometimes he found it hard to believe that a woman could actually be so in love with a man like him with his line of work, the brutality that came along with it and sometimes influenced himself.
You frown a little, not halting your movements but slowing down a little. You take your hands from his shoulders and bring them up to cup his cheeks, your thumb running over his bottom lip gently. “Of course i am, baby,” you say like it’s obvious but not in a condescending way. “I’ve never been happier.”
And for a second he just stares back at you, trying to let your reassurance wash over him. He suddenly gets a burst of energy — love or lust, he wasn’t sure. But he did know, was that it was overwhelming enough to force him to pull you in with both his hands, encouraging you to speed up your grinds, a sound of surprise escaping you.
A low, almost-ashamed whimper leaves Javi as his eyes lock on the look on your face — the small twitches in your features and the way your mouth dropped open slightly, the slight roll of your eyes. “Jav — god,” you groan, dropping your face down into the crook of his shoulder and letting him take over on pleasuring you. The subtle slap of his balls on your asshole makes you clench around him, that release that was cut short earlier starting to bubble in your stomach once again.
“I love you — love you so much, baby,” he moans into your ear, one hand travelling up your back and caressing the soft, smooth skin there. “Gonna show you how much I love you.”
A mix of emotions wash around your stomach as Javi starts to pound you steadily now, refraining from anything harsh, just showing you how desperate he was. Suddenly, in a blurry second, your head hits the pillow before you even know what’s happening. Javier had flipped you over onto your back now, kneeling between your thighs as he took your feet and placed them atop of his shoulders, spreading you wide for him. The movement was so sudden that it caught you off guard, even more so when his cock was buried inside you once again in this angle.
“Fu-ck — ohh, Javi. That’s so deep, just like that.” You moan, feeling his dick reach spots inside of you that you weren’t even aware existed. The rouge warmth blooming on his chest was getting darker by the minute, breath puffing from between his clenched teeth rapidly.
“Gonna fill you up, baby. Need you to cum for me so I can do that. Fill you with my babies, hm? Make you a mama.” He grunts, his voice almost a plea as the lewd noise of your skins slapping together filled the room. Your breath came out in short pants, your climax nearing rapidly until it was too strenuous to hold it back. You can’t speak anymore — can’t call out in desperation and warn him that you are about to cum. All you can think about is his cock hitting all the right spots and the notion of him filling you with his hot, creamy cum — shooting his load into your womb and filling you with his baby.
You and Javi had always talked about having kids in the future tense — never had a date set in stone, but with how you felt right now? You don’t think you would be all that annoyed about it happening this way.
The build hits it’s brink as you feel the explosion of pleasure wash over you like a cold shower, gasping out in mercy, your hands scramble the sheets, every muscle in your body going tense. “Yes, yes, yes,” you cry softly to yourself, your hips twitching upward when you feel Javi’s restraint snap, his dick spurting copious amounts of seed to cover your creamy walls in, the sticky, messy feeling uncomfortable and satisfying at the same time.
Javier had finished inside of you multiple times but those times he was always wearing a condom or you were on the pill — but this time, this time it felt different — it felt meaningful. Like maybe, just maybe a beautiful baby could be the outcome of all this.
Javier whimpers deeply through his teeth as his hips buck out the remainder of his load until the friction is simply too much for the both of you and he has to pull out. When he does, he gently eases your feet down from his shoulders, your thighs trembling slightly from the aftershocks of your climax and with the way the hot substance dribbled out of your quivering hole.
Javi’s quick to reach down and push it back in — partially because it would refrain the bedsheets from getting messy and also because the thought of even a drop of his cum being wasted on the mattress stressed him out enough.
You whimper slightly when his fingers make contact with your cunt, but your discomfort is quickly reduced when your husband rolls you over and lays down next to you, pulling you in to lay your face onto his chest — the sound of his heartbeat underneath your ear lulling you into relaxation.
And for a while, neither of you speak, and really, you didn’t have to. Not when the silence washing over the two of you felt this peaceful. The sensation of your sweaty skin pressed together feeling comforting.
You take your eyes away from Javi’s stomach, twisting your body enough until you were able to look up at him. A giddy smile crosses your lips at the sight of him — hair all messy, eyes tired and lips still a little red from your lipstick rubbing off on them. You bring your hand up to run through his sweaty yet slightly crunchy— from the gel — hair, letting your fingers tangle in the dark brown locks.
“That was really hot.” You whisper, giggling at your own, obvious choice of words.
Javier chuckles in response. “You think so?” He teases, manoeuvring the two of you until he were able to roll you onto your back and lay above you, one arm supporting his weight while his other leaned down, using his hand to cup your cheek. “You wanna do it again?”
And now, grinning as Javi climbs down your body, you have a feeling it will be a long night.
This took me WAY too long, holy shit. I really worked very hard on this fic so comments, reblogs and likes are hugely appreciated. I would love to hear your thoughts on this🤍 love this pairing 🥹
All information regarding my tag list is here and if you would like to see some more of my writing for Javi or some other characters, click here :)
you went looking for a midnight snack and found Javi waiting for you instead
warnings: 18+ ONLY, MDNI, smut, rough sex, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), references to sex work, language, jealous javi, it's basically just porn so if that's not your thing, pls don't read!
wc:~2.2k
It’s sometime after midnight; you’ve been tossing and turning for hours, unable to sleep. Your mind is on him, and only him. You’ve given your body to multiple men, but when he graced your front door nearly a year ago, you felt different. He was grumpy, sometimes quiet, and often frustrated, but he always made you feel safe when he was with you. If you were being completely honest, he fucked you like no one else ever had before. So now you crave him; you crave his calls late at night asking if he can come over, you crave the smell of him in your bedsheets, and the feeling of his fingers screeching up and down your back when he's beneath you. It’s against the rules and you know that; it’s a job, that's all. You'd always told yourself this could never happen, and it never did because it’s not personal, but something about Javi changed that and you can’t just turn those feelings off.
It’s been a few since you last heard from him, which wasn’t unusual for clients, but it was for Javi, and you're starting to get the feeling he's moved on to some other girl. You've always known you weren't the only girl he was going to, of course, but it didn't mean you didn't hope that you would become his focus, because he was yours.
Climbing out of bed wearing nothing but a tshirt that barely covers your ass, you go downstairs, your bare feet padding into the kitchen. The room is illuminated softly in a warm artificial light that creeps in from the street. Going into the freezer, you don't hesitate to grab the tub of ice cream that's half eaten from the last time you couldn't sleep. Taking a spoon from the drawer, you dig in. As the cold, creamy liquid hits your lips, you almost choke when you hear a man's deep, sultry voice behind you.
“Can I have some?”
Turning around quickly, dropping the pot down on the counter, you see him standing there, his head leaning back against the wall next to your front door as he looks you up and down.
“What the fuck?” You yelp, the surprise making your whole body tingle.
“Sorry… didn't mean to scare you.”
“What are you doing in my damn house, Javi?” You scrunch your face up, half confused, half creeped out.
“I came over; the door was unlocked.”
“So… you just let yourself in?”
“Can I have some?” He nods to the ice cream, ignoring your question.
“You don’t strike me as a guy who likes to eat ice cream.”
“Who said I was going to eat it?”
He walks slowly over towards you, around the counter and leans back against it beside you. Looking down at you, his dark eyes are transfixed on your lips as they wrap around the spoon, taking another taste.
“Why are you here, Javi?” You say after a moment.
“Wanted to see you.”
“Bad day at work?”
“It’s always a fucking bad day, baby.”
“What do you want me to do about it?” Rolling your eyes, you turn away from him, but he grabs your arm to stop you.
“Don’t play with me. Not in the mood tonight.”
You look down at your feet, but his finger comes up to tilt your chin back up to him. He steps forward and captures your lips. You've missed this, the feeling of his soft mouth against yours. When he pulls away for a second to take a breath, he leans his forehead against yours and you speak again.
“I’ve got someone coming over. You should go.” You lie. You haven’t really had anyone but him over in a long time.
“Who?” He bites.
“That’s none of your business, Javi.”
“Some fucking asshole you don’t know?” His voice is blunt, and you suspect a hint of jealousy in it.
“Like you?” You step back from him.
“You do know me.”
“I don't. You hide from me. Just come to fuck me when you feel sad and horny, then leave.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not like that; I care about you.”
You sigh. “Don’t say things you don’t mean. I’m just another one of your pretty girls, right?”
“Baby…” he sighs. “You know what this is. You know what we agreed to. It can't be anything more, the job I do… It’s too fucking dangerous for all that kinda shit. I won’t put you at risk.”
You scoff and look down at the floor. He moves closer, cupping your jaw so he can look into your eyes again. He kisses you more eagerly this time, and you sense he’s impatient. His strong arms lift you up onto the counter and your shirt creeps up in the process, your bare ass cheeks exposed against the cold surface. Standing between your legs, he looks down into your sad eyes with a dirty smirk. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
“You should go,” you whisper softly against his lips.
“Why? So some other guy can come and have what's mine?”
“You just told me I couldn’t be like that.”
He grunts in frustration. “You know what I mean.”
Smoothing your hands under his jacket, you reach round his waist to the gun tucked into the back of his jeans. Taking it out, you hold it in front of you, your eyes carefully examining it. His hand comes up over yours on the gun, and you can see the annoyance written across his face.
'What have I told you? You know you don't get to touch that."
"Why not?" you protest quietly.
"cause I fuckin’ said so."
Snatching it from your hand, he places it firmly on the side away from you. Tired of waiting, he hooks his fingers under the hem of your tshirt and lifts it up over your head, letting it drop to the floor as he takes in the sight of your naked body in front of him. Reaching for the tub of ice cream, he gathers some on the spoon and brings it slowly to your lips. You part them, expecting him to feed it to you. Instead you feel the ice-cold cream against your skin as he creates a trail of liquid down under your jaw, then your neck and chest until he reaches your tits. He curves the spoon around and stops when it brushes over your taut nipples, making you gasp at the cold sensation.
“That was meant to be my midnight snack, Javi.” you breathe.
“Hmmm, and now it's mine.”
He's on you then, his wet tongue following the trail of cream from your lips down to your chest, scooping every last bit of it up from your skin. He takes his time, teasing so slowly but when his tongue finally flicks over your nipple, your head falls back and a deep sigh escapes as you feel another rush of wetness down below. Noticing what he’s doing to you, he pulls back and gathers more ice cream on the spoon. You watch, desperate to know his next move but instead he puts it into his mouth, enjoying the look on your face as he makes you wait for more.
“Javi, please.”
You sit forward and reach down to cup his erection that’s desperate to be released from the tight confines of his pants. The movement makes him close his eyes as his head tilts back a little, his lips parting as his breathing deepens at your touch. After a moment, he bats your hand off him to get back to the task at hand. He gathers more ice cream on the spoon and bends down. Gently, he places the metal on the side of your knee, making your breath hitch at the coldness. Ever so slowly, he draws it up the inside of your thigh, stopping just an inch from your pulsing heat. His tongue darts out then, licking a single line along the trail from your knee upwards. It’s becoming impossible to keep your breathing steady now, and he knows just the impact he's causing as you groan in frustration when he stops just shy of your core.
His eyes flick up to yours and you notice the filthy grin across his face as he sees the desperation on yours. Hooking an arm under each leg, he pulls your body closer towards him so your ass is hanging off the edge. Intertwining your fingers in his hair, you guide his head back to where you need him, and he complies, lapping at your soaked folds over and over again.
When he senses you're close as your hips struggle to remain still, he pulls away. In a rough and sudden move, he pulls you down off the counter and turns you around. With one palm flat on the top of your back, he pushes you down hard so that your face is flat against the surface, ass bent over in the air in front of him.
“Fuck,” he grunts, taking in the sight. “Been waiting all goddamn day for this.” He runs two fingers through your drenched pussy, feeling how ready you are for him. “This all for me, huh?”
“Only for you, Javi.” You whimper against the counter.
Unbuckling his jeans, you bite your lip as you feel the tip of his hard length against your entrance.
“I need you.”
“Yeah? You need this cock, baby?”
Before you can reply, his thick length enters hard and deep into your desire, pushing the air from your lungs. He never waits for you to adjust, and tonight is no different as he withdraws all the way out before thrusting hard right back into you.
“Holy shit, always so fucking tight.” He pants as the sound of his balls hitting against you fills the room. He reaches around, slipping his middle finger into your mouth.
“Suck.” He instructs. You do as he says before releasing it with a pop. A second later, you flinch as you feel his wet finger circling at your asshole. As his thrusts become quicker, he pushes the tip of his finger into your tight opening, making you moan loudly at the sting.
“Yeah? You like that; you want more?” He removes his finger and spits on your hole to make it more slick before collecting it with his finger and pushing the tip of his digit back in even deeper this time.
“Fuuuccck.” You gasp at the overwhelming intrusion. You've had men who wanted to in the past, but you’ve never allowed anyone to touch you here until now.
“Such a dirty girl.”
His thrusts become more intense, and the wet sounds of his ministrations drive you crazy. As he feels your high starting to get closer, he removes his finger from your ass. With one hand gripping your hip, his nails digging hard into your skin, the other reaches forward to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head up off the counter. The position he has you in makes the edge of the surface beneath you bite into your skin, and you know there’s going to be bruises tomorrow, but he’s making you feel so good right now that you really don’t care.
“yeahhh that's it, gonna need you to cum for me baby. You’re squeezing this cock so good I won't last.”
You bite your lip to try to contain the noise, but it’s no use, crying out as your orgasm rips through your body. “ohhh shit, don’t stop."
“That’s it, just like that. Let me feel you.”
As you ride out your high, the movement of his hips becomes ragged, letting you know he's so close. "You ready for me, baby? gonna let me fill this pussy right up?" With a further hard tug of your hair that makes you gasp, he releases a deep animalistic grunt, and he cums deep inside you.
Once he’s completely spent, his grip on you weakens. He falls down on top of you, his hot breath against the back of your neck. Right here, right in this moment, it feels so good. Having his weight against you, his cock still sheathed deep inside of your cunt, your shared desires mixing-no man has made you feel like this.
Finally he pulls out of you, and you hate the loss. You're about to push yourself up when he smooths his hand over your back to keep you in place.
“Woah, stay right there; got a fuckin’ show going on right here.” He watches intently as thick ropes of his cum drip out from you. “Oh fuckkk. Think I might cum again just looking at that.” He moves his finger up through your soaked folds, catching his seed. “Wanna taste?”
You nod with a whimper. He pulls you up off the counter and turns you to face him.
“Open.” He says. You part your lips and he inserts his wet finger into your mouth. A hum escapes you, and your eyes close as you enjoy the taste of him. “Better than ice cream, huh?”
Afterwards, you stand there completely naked in your kitchen. A feeling of vulnerability washes over you as you watch him tuck himself back into his boxers and fasten his jeans. You fold your arms across your chest almost protectively.
“Javi?”
“Hmmm?” He walks over to grab his gun from the side, tucking it into the back of his pants again.
“Will you stay?”
He smiles softly. “You’re cute.”
“Javi… I’m serious.”
“I can’t. I’ll call you.” He kisses your forehead and turns to head for the door. You watch him longingly as he leaves you standing there alone.
warnings: smut below the cut, f!reader, daddy kink, d/s dynamics, unprotected piv, oral f!receiving, reader has pubic hair obv, unedited, also someone pointed out to me in part one that a straight bush is a thing (u learn something new every day) so no curl talk in this one!! thank u for letting me know about that btw i try to keep my language as inclusive as possible.
find part one here!
it wasn’t much. just…a change of scenery. a pick me up. a trim.
but the way joel was acting made it seem like anything but.
“what i’m sayin’ is you didn’t warn me. an’ now i’ve gotta go an’ help tommy while i’m—while i’m all—jesus. jesus fuckin’—what am i gonna do with you, huh? how can i—?”
“you’re being so dramatic,” you say with a roll of your eyes, a starkly contrasting display of annoyance in comparison to the big ass grin on your face. “i just cut it a little in some places. cleaned it up. what’s the big deal?”
“the big deal is i’m already twenty minutes late an’ now i’ve gotta go help my brother an’ pretend like i’m not thinking about the pretty little thing waitin’ for me at home and the goddamn heart she’s got between her legs.”
you feel yourself flush at his words, butterflies erupting in your belly as if this was the first time you’re hearing him call you pretty and not the millionth. “you like it, then?”
joel laughs. “do i like it? sweetheart, i—” he stops. sighs heavily and drags a weary hand down his face. “c’mere. let me show you somethin’.”
you do as he says, crossing the narrow bathroom to meet him at the edge of the sink. the shower’s still running and steam is beginning to billow out from the top of the curtain.
joel takes your hand in his and presses it hard into the rough ridge of his jeans. you can feel his cock beneath the denim fabric, heavy and swollen and throbbing.
“oh.” you bite the inside of your cheek, satisfied and a little giddy with his nonverbal answer.
“yeah, baby,” joel says. “oh is right.”
“i mean…what’s another five minutes? it’s just tommy. he can wait a little while longer, right? let me help you.” you try to lower yourself to your knees before him, but joel catches you with a firm hand around your elbow.
“hell no,” he says. “sit your pretty little ass on this counter.”
you don’t argue. don’t hold back your giggling, either. “god. you are so bossy. do you know that?” there’s no salt to your words. not really. you do as told, pushing yourself up onto the marble edge.
joel parts your legs with wanting hands, his palms rough against the inside of your thighs. “you love it,” he says, wearing a smug sort of smile. “s’what i’m supposed to do, anyhow. little girls like you always gotta be bossed around. how’s the saying go? daddy knows best.”
he doesn’t give you time to react, and you think it must be purposeful because joel knows what that word does to you.
but as soon as he says them, he’s kneeling before you and pressing a kiss to your pubic bone, right in the center of the heart shape you’d meticulously trimmed.
it’s a messy, open mouthed kiss that leaves wetness behind, turning the hair between your legs a shade darker.
“christ,” he hisses, running his nose through the soft bristles and breathing in deep. “got no fuckin’ clue, do you? got no clue what you do to me. just wanna—”
joel stops speaking and slides his flattened tongue over the seam of your cunt.
the first touch alone has your fingers curling around the counter’s edge. “oh, god—”
his tongue moves quickly. tasting, taking. it drags from your entrance up to your clit and back again, over and over until you’re all sticky and wet and dripping onto the marble below. joel’s moans vibrate against your clit, sending shivers down your spine.
he stands to his feet only when he’s had his fill. and you half expect that to be it. just a little taste to take the edge off, to curb the craving. he is late. and one thing about joel miller is that he hates being late.
but he surprises you.
even the clink of his belt buckle sounds desperate.
“fuck, baby,” he whispers, almost like he’s talking to himself, the cadence of his voice a little disbelieving. joel reaches into his jeans and pulls his cock out. “don’t know what i did to deserve a pussy like this. an’ later i’ll…i’ll thank god for it. but right now i gotta—i just gotta—”
he lines himself up at your entrance and slides in easily, the movement all slippery, coating him with the mixture of your arousal and his saliva.
your lips part in a shallow gasp as he pushes inside to the hilt, splitting you open, burrowing in deep. “joel,” you whimper, and he’s all too happy to oblige your pleading with a rough roll of his hips.
he pulls all the way out and drives his cock back into you. there’s force behind it, too. like he’s trying to show you something, like he’s trying to prove a point. his fingers squeeze the back of your thighs in a bruising grip, spreading you wide to take all of him.
“did that shit on purpose,” joel murmurs, fucking into you with intent now. “knew i’d be fuckin’ weak seein’ how pretty that little pussy looks. blindsided me, didn’t ya.”
it’s not a question, but you still shake your head in defiance. “i was just going to一oh god一i was getting in the shower, joel that’s一oh, fuck, that feels so good, please一”
he laughs bitterly. the sound rumbles through his chest, and he moves one hand from the back of your thigh and slides it up the old t-shirt you’d stolen from his side of the closet last night to cup your breast in his calloused palm. “nuh-uh,” joel says. “don’t believe that for a damn second. you know good and well what you do to me. so beautiful, baby. my pretty little girl.”
he speaks all soft and sweet, but the way he touches you is fevered. his fingers squeeze and knead your pillowy flesh, and his cock slams into you so deep you can’t process much else apart from the steadily building pressure he creates.
joel reaches around and places his hand on the small of your back. he presses your spine forward, tilting you just enough to provide a perfect, unobstructed view of the heart shape between your legs.
it’s the look on his face that tips you over the edge. the adoration in his eyes as he looks down at the place where you’re connected, all wet and glistening and obscene.
“oh, sweetheart. you cummin’ already? so fuckin’ quick. my needy girl. s’what you wanted all along, ain’t it?” joel drags the back of his knuckles across your clit while he buries his cock deep, a barely there touch that sends off sparks of electricity beneath your skin. “walked in here half naked knowing i’d see. knowing i wouldn’t be able to resist.”
and it’s in your blissful haze only that you admit the truth. “yes,” you tell him. “i wanted it. wanted you—hmm—wanted you inside me. god, joel一”
he pulls out of you suddenly, taking his cock in his hand. he strokes it just twice before he’s grunting low in your ear and spilling thick, white ropes of cum onto your pubic hair, sliding the head of his cock through the very center of the heart shape.
the sight of it has your pussy fluttering around nothing, needy for more despite the warmth of your orgasm still flickering in your belly.
“christ,” joel hisses, shoulders heaving as he breathes in deep. a whimper falls from your parted lips as you watch him smear his release against your skin, making the hair between your legs all sticky and messy and wet. “i know, baby, i know. s’always what you want, ain’t it? now c’mere. you know the rules. gotta clean up our messes.”
you smile wide and let him help you off the counter and down onto your knees. you do just as he taught you; tongue gentle as you lick the mess from his cock. tender little kitten licks from the base of him to the tip, and he strokes your hair back and smiles down at you with worship in his eyes until he’s well and truly clean.
he helps you to your feet, tucks himself back into his jeans and buckles his belt. joel takes your jaw in his hand and presses a kiss to your mouth, mirroring your grin, because you both know what comes next. “now what do you say, baby?”
