i think of joel and his longer hair and i actually start crying. he’s genuinely so stunning and gorgeous and it makes my heart ache it’s really not fair. i feel like putty just looking at him in ways i can’t explain. he looks so soft and gentle…
like no way he spent 20 years murdering people… look at him! he’s just a pretty old man… :3
missing The Character is a strange thing because yea there's always the option to go back to their source material or looking at art or reading fics but it's also like i can't just call them up like i would a friend to see how they're doing and that's the frustrating part of it
all ive thought about all day is writing a horny little drabble for you all. have a great night x
|| smut MDNI 18+ ain’t nothin but porn ngl, ice play, f!receiving oral, kissing, breast play, afab!reader, handyman husband Joel being all competent and sexy ||
ps. I hate formatting on my phone sorry if shit looks weird
Summer arrived with an unforgiving heat, just in time for your air conditioning to give out on a sweltering June afternoon. Now, sprawled across the hardwood floor beneath both the ceiling fan and the cheap oscillating one in the corner, the air still felt thick, unmoving, like you were breathing through steam.
Joel came padding in to lie beside you, shirtless, his chest slick with sweat. He groaned as his knees popped on the way down.
“AC’s finally back up and workin’,” he sighed, setting down his glass of ice water with a satisfying clink.
“I don’t feel it,” you groaned.
“Gonna take a bit to kick on, baby,” he said, sounding just as drained as you felt.
You turned your head, offering a tired smile, your hand reaching over to rest on his hot, sweaty arm. “My handsome handyman. Can always count on you.”
He chuckled, the sound rough and rumbling, “Damn right.”
The floor creaked as he rolled over to face you, arm brushing yours, the sweat-slicked skin warm where it touched. You tilted your chin up at him just as he leaned in, his mouth catching yours in a kiss that was soft, unhurried—
And cold.
You gasped, hand catching his shoulder. “Jesus,” you whispered against his lips, pulling back just enough to blink at him. “Your mouth’s freezing.”
Joel gave a crooked grin, the corners of his lips still wet from the ice water. “I was thirsty,”
“Take another sip,”
His brows lifted, like he wanted to make sure he heard you right, but the glint in his eye said he liked the sound of it.
He reached blindly for his glass, ice clinking as he took a long sip, swirled it in his mouth. Then he leaned in again, slow and smiling, and this time when he kissed you—God. The contrast of cold mouth on your overheated skin made your stomach flip, your chest pressing up into him more. It was like jumping into a lake and sinking into the warmth all at once.
Joel groaned into the kiss, catching your bottom lip between his. “You like that, huh? Feel good?”
“Mmhmm,” you murmured, chasing him when he pulled back.
“Well,” he said, voice a little rougher now, “maybe I could cool you off in another way.”
His hand hooked your sports bra, tugging the thin fabric down gently with his fingers. You sucked in a breath, but the heat that bloomed across your skin wasn’t from the summer air but from the look in his eyes.
"Oh, god." you whispered, anticipation making your blood go molten.
He popped a full ice cube into his cheek, then glanced up at you with that familiar, wicked glint before lowering his mouth to your chest. At first, it was just his lips and cool tongue, swirling, teasing, warming with each pass. But then he shifted the ice to the front of his mouth, and when it touched your nipple, you gasped loud and involuntary, a pulse thrumming between your legs at the sensation.
Your fingers threaded through his hair as he swirled the ice against you, the sensation an addictive shock of pleasure. You looked down just as he dragged the melting cube between the valley of your breasts, his mouth wrapped around the other, repeating the same delicious torment: ice cold, then warm, then cold again.
Goosebumps rippled across your skin. The contrast was maddening, every nerve ending alive and begging. You were gasping, mewling, legs shifting restlessly beneath him. It bordered on too much, nearly uncomfortable but it was so addicting you didn't bother to care.
Eventually, the ice melted, leaving your skin slick and tingling. Joel came back up, catching your mouth with his, your lips parting as you panted into him. You pulled him closer, breathless, clinging. He kissed you like he was starving—all tongue and teeth, the heat of him moving over you and pressing firm between your thighs.
His hands found the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down in one rough pull that had you gasping.
“Wait—are you about to—?”
He kissed the corner of your mouth, soft and quick, his voice thick with mischief. “Yeah, baby. Let me.” His hand slid slow along your thigh, coaxing you open. “You’re all hot and bothered, can hardly move in this heat. Least I can do is help you unwind. Help you cool off."
Joel shifted down your body, hands trailing as he went, grinning all the way down until he was kneeling between your thighs. In one smooth motion, he hooked your legs over his broad shoulders, settling in with a satisfied grunt. Your back pressed to the hardwood, warm and unforgiving against overheated skin, and now you were suddenly, undeniably naked and nothing between you but sweat and heat.
He reached back for the glass, plucked another ice cube from the water, and popped it into his mouth with deliberate slowness.
You could see the way his jaw moved as it melted, tongue working lazily, lips glistening. The smug bastard was enjoying himself.
And then he lowered his head. The first kiss to your inner thigh made you jump from the shock of cold and wet from his mouth, chased by the unbearable heat of his tongue. He mouthed at the soft skin there, taking his time, humming low in his throat like he had all day.
“You always feel so fuckin’ good,” he muttered against your skin, voice muffled and reverent. “So soft, baby. Or maybe it's just the heat makin’ me even more crazy for ya,”
You didn’t get the chance to answer, not when he licked a stripe through your folds, slow and deliberate. The cold from the ice lingered in his mouth, shocking your system in the best way. It had you gasping, hips trying to buck, thighs twitching over his shoulders. His hands gripped your hips hard, pinning you down.
Then he wrapped his lips around your clit and brought the ice cube directly to your most sensitive bundle. He switched between that and flicking his warm tongue against it, making your eyes roll back into your skull.
"Holy fuck—“ you moaned, back curving off the sweat slick hardwood. You cried out as he began working faster, and your fingers tangled in his hair, trying to pull him closer and push him away all at once.
The contrast was unbearable between the flicker of icy cold followed by the warmth of his breath. The hot drag of his tongue against overstimulated nerves had your thoughts lagging, only able to think about the rising swell of pressure in your belly. He’d retreat for a second, swirl the melting cube in his mouth, then press back in, letting it melt directly against you as he sucked and licked at your sensitive pussy.
The ice ran in little rivers at the corner of his mouth, mixing with your sticky arousal and sliding down your ass, your thighs, pooling beneath you as he worked you open with his mouth alone. You couldn't help the push and pull of your hips, the way they lifted and undulated against his face.
Joel lifted his head just long enough to grin, his chin shining with you. “You’re squirmin’, baby.”
“It's so—“ you choke on a moan as he flattened his tongue against you, "oh fuck, Joel,"
His smirk deepened as he dragged the final bit of ice down between your folds with the tip of his tongue, his hands tightening on your thighs just as your orgasm crested. It broke over you hard, your back arching off the floor, thighs trembling around his shoulders as you cried out.
He held you there, firm and steady, fingers gripping your skin while his eyes never left your face. He watched every twitch, every flicker of pleasure cross your face as your lips formed the perfect 'o' through it all.
You came down slow, panting, your body flushed and slick with sweat all over again. When you finally lifted yourself onto your elbows and looked at him, he was already moving up your body, kissing you deep and messy, tasting sweet and heady and salty. You welcomed it, sighing into his mouth.
He dropped down beside you with a groan, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.
Without a word, you swung a leg over and straddled him, grinning as the surprise flickered across his face. You could feel him hard and ready beneath you, and you reached for the glass of ice water, grabbing a cube between your fingers.
“My turn,” you said, popping it into your mouth with a smile.
｡𖦹°‧➵ On Valentine’s Day, one of Cupid’s angels decides to surprise Joel and help him find his perfect match.
｡𖦹°‧➵ tags/warnings: smut, minors DNI, roleplay, unprotected piv, prone bone, pussy eating from the back, pussy slapping, cumshot, pussy pronouns, established relationship, lots of dirty talk
The restaurant had been fancier than you expected, candlelight that flickered across the table, and a guitarist in the corner playing something slow and romantic. Now the night felt heavier in the best way as the front door of your house clicked shut behind you both. Joel grazed his hand on the small of your back as you passed him on your way to the hallway, already guiding you towards the bedroom.
“Wait. I’m gonna change,” you said over your shoulder, already plotting tonight’s future events. “Don’t come in yet.”
He raised an eyebrow but only grunted something that might have been agreement. You heard the soft clink of him setting his keys on the kitchen counter, and the creak of the floorboards as he moved toward the living room.
In the bedroom you shut the door and leaned against it for a second. The costume you’d ordered online had been stashed in the back of the closet for a week. Made out of a white gauzy fabric, with delicate straps, a pair of small feathered wings, and a golden headband with a tiny heart at the center.
You stripped out of the dress you’d worn to dinner, and slipped into the outfit piece by piece. The material was soft against your thighs, barely-there, offering you very little coverage. You tugged the wings into place, adjusted the headband, and checked yourself once in the mirror propped against the wall. You looked ridiculously good, and you were certain Joel would lose your mind the second he laid his eyes on you.
You heard his footsteps in the hall, and seconds later the doorknob turned. Joel stepped inside and froze. For a long second he just stood there, one hand still on the knob, the other halfway to unbuttoning his shirt. He tracked his eyes from the headband down to the wings, over the barely-there fabric clinging to your hips, then back up to your face. His mouth opened, then closed, and then opened again.
“What… the hell are you doin’?”
You turned toward him slowly, tipping your head, letting your lips curve into a soft smile. “I’m one of Cupid’s angel,” you said, like you were reciting something. “And tonight, on Valentine’s Day, I’ve been sent to help lonely souls find their perfect match.”
Joel blinked, and then he exhaled through his nose, the sound somewhere between disbelief and the beginning of a laugh he was trying not to let out. “Darlin’, I think you made a mistake. I already got a partner.”
You stepped closer, the wings shifted slightly with the movement. You stopped just out of reach and looked up at him, letting your expression slide from playful to something more serious. “No,” you said quietly. “You don’t.”
He tilted his head, drawing his brows together.
“You don’t have a partner, Mr. Miller,” you repeated, slower this time. “Not yet. That’s why I’m here. That’s why Cupid sent me.”
Joel studied you for a long beat. The room felt smaller, warmer, the candle throwing long shadows across his jaw. You watched the exact moment realization clicked behind his eyes—the way his gaze darkened, the way his shoulders loosened just a fraction, like he’d decided to play along but only because he wanted to see how far you’d take it.
Joel dragged a hand down his face. When he dropped his hand again his eyes were darker. “Darlin’,” he said, “I just wanna have some sex and go to sleep. We can leave the little angel act for tomorrow.”
You tilted your head. “True love doesn’t wait, Mr. Miller. Now collaborate.”
“You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.”
He let out a long, slow breath through his nose, the sound of a man counting to ten in his head, and finally uncrossed his arms. “Fine,” he muttered. “Help me find a partner.”
You stepped closer, close enough that the hem of your costume brushed the front of his jeans. You reached up, grazing the open collar of his shirt with your fingertips, feeling the quick jump of his pulse under the skin.
“What,” you asked, dipping your voice into something almost musical, “do you find attractive in a partner?”
Joel flicked his eyes to your mouth, then back up.
“I dunno,” he said. “I ain’t picky.”
The words landed like a slap, you ulled your hand back, and in one moment the playful curve of your lips flattened. “Oh, so you like everyone?”
His brows snapped together. “No. No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean, Mr. Miller?” You crossed your arms under your chest, the motion pushing the thin fabric tighter across your skin, your tits together. “Because it sounds like you’d settle for just about anybody with a pulse.”
Joel exhaled hard, trying to avoid making you even angrier by looking at your plump breasts under the costume. He rubbed the back of his neck, the way he did when he was trying not to lose his patience.
“I didn’t say that,” he bit out. “Christ. I just… look, I’m tired, I’m hard already, and you’re standin’ there lookin’ like that. Can we maybe skip to the part where—”
“Kindness,” you cut in. “Loyalty. What else?”
He blinked. “What?”
“You said you’re not picky. I’m trying to help you figure out what you actually want. So. I’m guessing you want someone who’s kind. Loyal too. What else?”
Joel stared at you like you’d grown a second head. He flexed his hands at his sides like he was fighting the urge to just grab you and end the conversation the fastest way he knew how.
“You’re killin’ me here,” he muttered.
“Answer the question.”
He dragged both hands through his hair. “Fine. Kind. Loyal. Someone who doesn’t flinch when shit gets ugly. Someone who’ll call me on my bullshit. Someone who laughs at my dumb jokes even when they ain’t funny.” He dropped his eyes to your mouth again. “Someone who looks at me like I’m worth somethin’. Even when I don’t feel like I am.”
The room went still, you let the silence stretch just long enough to make him shift uncomfortably. “That’s a very specific list for a man who claims he’s ‘not picky,’” you said at last.
Joel’s laugh was short and humorless. “Yeah, well. Maybe I lied.”
“Well, don’t. If you lie I can’t help you find your perfect match. Now, next question,” you murmured, lips brushing the edge of his jaw. “What’s your favorite kind of date?”
Joel let out an exasperated laugh that vibrated against your skin. “You’re really doin’ this.”
“I’m really doing this.”
He exhaled through his nose, as he traced absent circles over the sheer fabric at your waist, like he couldn’t quite help himself. “Fine, I like somewhere quiet where we can hear each other talk. Maybe a walk after dark. A small restaurant, somewhere private, where it’s just us.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Don’t call it sweet.”
“It’s sweet, Mr. Miller.”
He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile, almost. “You done?”
“Not even close.”
Before he could protest, you stepped back, just far enough to break his hold, then turned and nudged him gently backward until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the mattress. He sat without argument, more out of surprise than obedience, spreading legs instinctively to make room.
You didn’t hesitate, just climbed onto the bed between his thighs, your knees bracketing his hips, until the thin white fabric of your costume rode up as you settled your weight across his lap.
He snapped his hands to your thighs on reflex, digging his fingers hard enough to leave faint marks through the gauze.
You rested your forearms on his shoulders, threading loosely into the hair at the nape of his neck. You tugged it once in a playful gesture. “And in intimacy… what do you like?”
Joel tightened his grip on your waist, flexing his fingers like he was fighting every instinct to rip the flimsy costume off you right then and there. His thumbs slid higher, brushing the undersides of your breasts until they were resting just beneath the white fabric that had turned almost translucent in the dim bedroom light. The material was so thin it hid nothing, the peaks of your nipples stood out clearly, stiff and aching, begging for attention.
He wanted to rip the straps down, yank the whole damn thing to your waist, and bury his face in your tits. Wanted to squeeze them hard in his rough hands until you gasped, then suck one nipple into his hot mouth, swirling his tongue, grazing his teeth just enough to make you feel the sting.
“Oh, you’re a filthy little angel,” he rasped, scraping the words out like they’d been waiting behind his teeth all night.
You gasped, pretending to be offended, and pressed a hand to your chest. “It’s a professional question, Mr. Miller. Intimacy is important to find a match. I need to know your preferences so I can… guide you.”
He barked a short, incredulous laugh. “Guide me.”
“Exactly.”
“Fine,” he growled. “I like a woman who’s confident. Who knows what she wants and ain’t afraid to take it. Who rides me slow when she feels like teasin’ me, and then hard when she’s done playin’. Who looks me in the eye the whole damn time like she’s darin’ me to break first. Who says filthy shit in that sweet voice of hers and then blushes about it later. Who lets me mark her up so everyone knows she’s mine.”
He paused, and you could see his chest rising and falling faster now. “Right now? Right now I’d like to fuck this pretty angel until she forgets her own damn name.”
The air between you felt thick, you could feel every thick inch of him straining against the denim of his jeans, the hard length of his cock throbbing insistently right where your cunt rested, separated only by thin layers of fabric that did nothing to hide how soaked you already were. You started rolling your hips in little circles, enough to drag your slick and swollen clit right over the fat head of him. The ridge caught against your clothed folds with every pass, sending sparks up your spine, but you kept the pressure light, to tease him with cruelty . Just enough friction to make his breath hitch, but not enough to let him rut up into you.
You leaned in until your lips were a heartbeat from his. “Mr. Miller,” you said scandalized, “you’re so unprofessional.”
He snorted. “I’m a messenger of God,” you continued, supresing a laugh. “A celestial being. Treat me with some respect.”
His laugh was low. Joel slid one hand up your back, catching the base of your wings, tugging just enough to make you arch.
“Respect,” he echoed with amusement. “That what you want, sweetheart? Respect while you’re sittin’ pretty in my lap, grindin’ on me like you’re tryin’ to see how long it takes before I snap?”
“I’m not grinding,” you said primly, even as you rolled your hips once just to watch his eyes flutter shut for a second.
“Bullshit,” he muttered.
You leaned closer, until your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “I’m assessing compatibility. Very thoroughly. And I think I’ve found the perfect match for you, Mr. Miller.”
He snapped his eyes back to yours, impatient to put an end to this little game. “Who?”
You smiled, angelic in the most sinful way possible, and let your fingers trail down the center of his chest, stopping just above the buckle of his belt.
“Me.”
Joel went still. For one long heartbeat the only sound in the room was the thud of his pulse under your palm.
Then the corner of his mouth curled. “That right?”
“Mhm.” You tilted your head. “But Cupid’s angels don’t come cheap. You have to earn her.”
“Oh,” he laughed darkly, “I’m ’boutta earn ya.”
Before the last syllable left his mouth his hands were moving, he banded an arm around your waist, hooked the other under your thigh. In a single motion he flipped you. Your stomach hit the mattress with a soft bounce, your cheek pressed into the sheets, and you stretched your arms out instinctively, curling your fingers into the fabric.
Joel settled his weight over you from behind, being careful not to crush you, but he was still heavy enough to pin you in place. He nudged your thighs wider with his knees, shoving your legs apart. You felt the heat of him everywhere, his chest to your back, and his breath against the nape of your neck.
“Stay,” he growled in your ear. One big hand planted beside your head, while the other slid down your spine, until his palm flattened over the small of your back, pressing you deeper into the bed.
You arched just enough to test him, and he pressed harder. “Stay put, angel. Gonna earn every damn inch of you.”
Then he was moving lower, sliding his palms under your hips, lifting you just enough to angle you the way he wanted. The costume rode up completely now, bunched around your waist.
Your bare cunt was exposed right in front of his eyes, swollen and raw, glistening with your lips puffy all the grinding. Your juices had soaked through everything, dripping slow down your inner thighs, leaving a slick trail.
Joel stared at it, hungry,. He brushed once over your clit, barely a touch, and your whole body jolted.
“Look at this pretty pussy,” he gave it a sharp little slap, the wet smack echoed in the room, his fingers connecting perfectly with your shiny clit. The sting bloomed right away, making you buck your hips.
“She’s beggin’ f’some attention, ain’t she?” Another slap, harder this time, right across your folds. “She wants a big cock fillin’ her up, stretchin’ her wide?”
“Mmmph—” You cried out while your pussy clenched hard around nothing, fluttering visibly like it was trying to pull him in. “Please… please, Mr. Miller.”
He gave you one more slap, watching the way fresh slick welled up and dripped down toward your ass.
“Gonna eat her first,” he growled, spreading your asscheeks wider. “Gonna fuck her with my tongue before she gets this cock.”
Joel licked a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, keeping his tongue flat and firm, like he was tasting something he’d been starving for. You gasped into the pillow, jerking involuntarily. He growled against you, and did it again, slower this time, savoring you.
“Fuck,” he muttered, voice muffled against your skin. “Pretty pussy tastes as good as it looks.”
Your fingers twisted tighter in the sheets. as he kept spreadingyou wider with his thumbs, opening you completely, then he sealed his mouth over your clit and sucked it hard.
He didn’t let up for a second. Joel flicked his tongue in fast little circles over your swollen clit, making your thighs quake around his ears. Then he dragged the whole rough plane of his tongue up through your folds in one long lap, collecting every drop of your slick like he was dying of thirst. He groaned deep against you, and did it again, flick, flick, flick, then another wide stripe that ended with him sucking your clit between his lips just hard enough to make your vision blur.
Joel moved one hand up your spine, threading his fingers into your hair, grounding you while he devoured you from behind. The other arm hooked under your hips, keeping you lifted exactly where he wanted you.
You tried to rock back against his face, but he pinned you harder. “Be good,” he rasped between licks. “Let me work.”
The words sent heat flooding through you, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from whimpering too loud.
He pulled back just long enough to speak. “Look’a cha. Spread out f’me like this. Drippin’ down my chin. Filthy fuckin’ angel.”
Then his mouth was back, hungrier now. He plunged his tongue inside you, curling and thrusting it inside your tight hole, fucking you with it while his nose nudged your clit on every pass.
You were panting into the pillow, trembling, your fingers scrabbling at the sheets. “Joel— Joel, I’m so close, please, please… I need to cum.”
He hummed against you, and sucked your clit back into his mouth relentlessly. Your whole body locked up. The pleasure snapped, tearing a cry from your throat that you couldn’t muffle. You came hard, pulsing against his tongue, clamping your thighs around his head as wave after wave rolled through you.
He didn’t stop, instead, Joel worked you through your orgasm, slower now, with softer licks, coaxing every last tremor out of you until you were whimpering and oversensitive.
Only then did he pull back. You felt the mattress dip as he rose up behind you. Then, you heard the deliberate sound of his belt coming undone, and the rasp of his zipper.
His hand slid up your back again, gentle this time, brushing the crumpled feathers aside. He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“Still think I gotta earn you?”
You turned your head just enough to catch his eye over your shoulder. His cheeks were flushed, his lips swollen, beard completely drenched, covered in your juices.
You smiled, still trembling. “Keep going, Mr. Miller,” you whispered. “You’re doing beautifully.”
Joel’s breath was hot against the back of your neck, as he pressed himself closer. The blunt head of him nudged at your entrance, teasing you open even though you were still slick and fluttering from his mouth. You felt every inch as he started to push in. Joel was thick, taking him was always a big challenge. You felt his cock starting to stretch you wide until your breath hitched.
“Fuck,” he groaned low. “So goddamn tight. Even after I ate you out like that.”
You whimpered into the pillow, tilting your hips up instinctively to take more. He didn’t let you rush it, Joel pressed his hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you flat again, while he sank in deeper, inch by torturous inch. The thick head of his cock parted your slick walls until the blunt pressure turned into a burning stretch that made your breath catch. He didn’t rush, lettting you feel every veined ridge dragging against your fluttering cunt, every pulse of him as he claimed more space inside you, until finally his hips pressed flush to the rounded curve of your ass and he was buried to the hilt, balls-deep and so full you swore you could feel him in your throat.
You could feel the way your own walls spasmed and rippled around him, involuntary squeezes that tried to drag him even deeper, like your body was begging for more even when there was nowhere left to go.
“Jesus Christ,” Joel rasped. “Feel that? That’s all you, angel. Takin’ me so fuckin’ deep.”
He rolled his hips once, testing, and the angle made you see stars. Whenever he fucked you in prone bone, he hit places you didn’t even know existed, the head of his cock dragging against that spongy spot inside you with every slow thrust.
He started moving then with deliberate strokes that dragged every veined inch of him out until just the head remained notched inside you, stretching your entrance. The slow withdrawal made your walls flutter desperately around the sudden emptiness, trying to cling to him, before he pushed back in with the same patience, letting you feel the tip part your folds again.
The wet sound of it filled the roo, the slick glide of his cock through your cunt, the soft smack of skin meeting skin at the end of each thrust, the lewd squelch every time he bottomed out and your juices coated his shaft, dripping down to where you were joined.
“You like that?” he murmured, brushing his hips against the shell of your ear. “Like bein’ stuffed full while I fuck you into the bed? Look’a cha takin’ this cock like it was made f’ya pussy. My pretty little angel takin’ it so good.”
You moaned, the sound muffled against the pillow. “Joel— Oh, yes! Like that! Don’t stop—”
“Yeah?” His voice dropped lower. “Tell me. Tell me how deep I am.”
“So deep,” you gasped. “So fucking deep—can feel you everywhere.”
He growled, and picked up the pace. No more slow, teasing drags. Now each thrust snapped forward with purpose, slamming his hips against the plush curve of your ass hard.
Joel clamped one hand onto your hip, locking you in place without escape, no room to squirm away from the relentless stretch and fill. He held you steady, angled just right so the head of his cock battered that sensitive spot inside you with every brutal plunge.
“That’s it,” he panted against your neck. “Take it. Take every fuckin’ inch. You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to get fucked like this, face down, ass up, screamin’ my name.”
Your hands scrabbled at the sheets until your knuckles ached.
“Fuck—take it,” he snarled. “This pussy’s mine, fuckin’ greedy for this fat cock, clenchin’ like you’re tryin’ to milk me dry.”
He drove deeper, snapping forward in short and punishing strokes that made your thighs shake and your toes curl. Your slick was coating him so thoroughly it dripped down his balls with every thrust. His grip on your hip tightened further, yanking you back to meet every forward snap, burying himself to the hilt over and over until the pleasure blurred into something overwhelming.
“Joel—please—”
“Please what, sweetheart?” His beard scraped your shoulder as he leaned down.“Please fuck you harder? Please make you cum again?”
You couldn’t answer, could only moan, broken and needy, as he slammed in deeper. “Fuck, you’re clenchin’ so tight,” he groaned. “Gonna cum f’me again? Gonna soak my cock while I ruin this tight pussy?”
He began to hit your g-spot with every snap of his hips. The angle was merciless, making you clench down like you were trying to trap him there forever.
You couldn’t hold it back. Your orgasm ripped through you violently, your whole body locking up beneath him as you came crying his name. “Joel—Joel—fuck—Joel—” The words tore out of you in broken sobs, muffled into the pillow. Your cunt pulsed hard around his cock, spasming in rhythmic waves that milked him.
Joel swore under his breath and kept fucking you through it. “Goddamn. That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, look at you cummin’ so hard f’me.”
He didn’t slow down. If anything he went harder, chasing his own climax now. He tugged your head back just enough to make you arch.
You barely managed the words out of your mouth. “On me—please! Paint me… mark me—”
He groaned like the request physically hurt him in the best way. “Fuck yes. Gonna get’cha all covered in me.”
A few more brutal thrusts was all it took, then Joel yanked himself free with a wet pop. The sudden emptiness made your cunt clench hard around nothing, fluttering desperately.
He wrapped his hand around his cock, still glistening with your arousal, the veins throbbing, the tip flushed dark and angry, and he stroked himself rough. You felt the first hot stripe land across your ass, splattering in a heavy rope that immediately started to slide down the cleft toward your still-twitching hole. Another followed right after, higher this time, painting a messy line up your lower back, sticky against your spine. Then another, and another, each pulse of him sending obscene ropes across your skin until you were streaked from the dimples above your ass all the way up to your shoulder blades.
He kept going until he was empty, groaning with every spurt, milking the last drops out until they dripped slowly onto the small of your back.
He collapsed half over you, careful not to crush the wings, pressing his forehead between your shoulder blades. His hand smoothed over your hip, gentle now.
“Jesus, you’re a goddamn mess, darlin’.”
You laughed, breathless and shaky, turning your head just enough to catch his eye. “Worth it?”
“More than worth it.” He huffed a tired and satisfied laugh and pressed a slow kiss to the back of your neck. “Happy Valentine’s Day, angel.”
You smiled into the pillow. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Miller.”
A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day!!!🩷 I hope you all have a lovely day. Here’s my little gift for you, I really hope you enjoy it. I know a lot of you love the roleplaying fics, and @ess-evo suggested this idea for Valentine’s Day, so thank you so much!!
As always, your support means everything to me. I absolutely love reading your thoughts.
dailybridgerton
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tangentwithtanner
titsay
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