i go by she/her pronouns and post a wide variety of fics. myself and my blog are 18+ so please, minors do not interact. i encourage requests and asks and i love interacting with you guys! all my images are from pinterest!!
summary: will turner is desperate to please you, in any capacity
cw: 18+!!!, oral (f!receiving), needy!will
an: is this too niche🤭… i think i might write a longer one shot for will turner because my brain is like locked in on pirates right now so lmk if anybody would be interested in that
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
Will Turner was a man of discipline. Of training and resistance and strength.
Usually.
When it came to you, though? Oh, how weak he was.
He could face Davey Jones and his crew without batting an eye, but as soon as he was in your presence he was helpless to your spell. Like you were a siren, dragging him to his demise with your voice alone.
As soon as the two of you had privacy, he was kneeling before the altar that was your thighs, ready to accept anything you'd be willing to give him.
Like tonight.
The two of you were in a real bed for once, not a hammock or a cot, but a bed. He'd been trying not to seem needy, but it'd been so long since he'd last had you.
He stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at your stretched out body, humming happily at the soft sheets and plush mattress. He always knew that a part of you missed some of the luxuries of noble life.
He kneeled before the bed, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he murmured your name gently. You sat up then, giving him a soft smile as he kissed further up your leg.
With his lips still pressed against the skin of your knee, his eyes flickered up to yours. "Please let me."
You relented easily, giving a small nod. William wasted no time undressing you from your clean white shift. Once you were bared to him, he ran his hands over the skin of your thighs and up the rest of you until he was cupping your breasts.
His touch was gentle as he fondled you, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your neck. He trailed his lips down your skin, kissing your collarbone and the fat of your breasts. He continued his descent, pausing to suck one of your nipples into your mouth.
Only once you were a squirming mess under him did he let up, pulling away with a pop.
"William," you whined softly, tangling your hand in his hair and tugging gently. 
With his lips pressed against your navel, he smiled cockily. His hand found the apex of your thighs, feeling the slick that coated you there.
He groaned at the feel of you on his fingertips, sliding two or his digits through your folds. "You're so wet for me already."
You let out another whine of his name as he kissed your mound, then the inside of your thigh, avoiding where he knew you wanted him. Just because he liked to tease.
But really, he couldn't hold back any longer.
He ran his tongue through your folds, savoring the sweet taste of you that assaulted his senses. Your hand found his hair, tugging with enough force to have him groaning against you.
As he sucked hard on your clit, he gripped your thigh and brought it over his shoulder.
Your noises increased, mewls and moans of his name that spilled out easily. You curled your leg, your heel digging into his shoulder blades as he pressed further against you. You tasted so good he felt near crazy, like he had just finished a whole barrel of rum himself.
You were better than any rum. Worlds better.
Your juices leaked out of you easily, dropping down before it was caught by his tongue laving over you again.
He was relentless, sucking and slurping while giving you more attention than you could need. It was overwhelming, the sheer ferocity with which he consumed you. In under ten minutes, he’d completely pulled you apart with his tongue alone.
He felt you twitch and flutter and knee without a doubt that you’d be unraveling soon.
He doubled his efforts, squeezing your thigh as you cried out his name, smothering him between both of your thighs.
The moment passed slowly, with you coming down from your high as he pulled away and stroked your skin gently. He smiled up at you, light and pleased.
He hummed and pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh before moving back up your body. He collapsed against you, burying his face into the crook of his neck. He was sure you could feel him—hard and pressed against you—but he didn’t want you to think about that.
He had jut wanted to take care of you, to make you feel good. Like always.
[summary]: harrycastillo x fem!reader | After going out with Harry for sometime, you become insecure in your relationship and decide to break it off. Harry soothes your anxieties and shows you just how much you mean to him.
[warnings/tags]: 18+ MDNI, pnv, oral (fem!receiving), angsty, hurt/comfort, you cry and then he makes you feel better :)
[wc]: 3k
[a/n]: i’ve never wrote for harry before so sorry if he’s a little meh yea :’)
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It had started out with a few dates. A man you’d been matched with through a matchmaking agency, Adore and a desperate desire to get back into the dating world. You were at first skeptical about the whole thing, the idea of putting your dating life in someone else’s hands making you nervous. But Harry Castillo was a sweet man- charming, funny, and not to mention wealthy.
Over the course of all these dates, you slowly realized you didn’t know if pursuing a serious relationship was a good idea. He was great and all but often you felt a sort of disconnect between his life and yours. It felt like he was from a completely different world than you sometimes. A world of silver spoons, pricy menus, and specialty tailored clothes. You felt out of your element most of the time, noticing how Harry would simply glance over the menu on your dates without taking into account the price of anything.
You hated to admit it but it made you feel insecure. Sitting there in your cheap dress you found at the mall, silently stressing about if you were going to make rent that month. The dates were great but sometimes they just felt wrong. You decided that on your next date you would gently break the news to him and end your relationship.
It was a late Saturday night when you arrived at Harry’s penthouse. Harry had invited you over for some dinner and drinks. Your stomach twisted into knots as you exited the elevator, anxiety towards how Harry would take the news shuttering through your whole system. You wore a simple dress, icy blue with dainty lace across the top and bottom along with a pair of silver heels. You always felt a little more confident whenever you dressed up. Though tonight, despite your hair and make up being just right, nothing could soothe the nervousness in your chest.
When you reached his door you knocked gently before waiting for him to answer. After a moment the door creaked open and there stood Harry, a black pair of slacks dressing his legs along with a fitted button up black shirt that worked to make his shoulders seem broader. He smiled upon seeing you and stepped back so you could enter.
“You look beautiful.” He said gently. You smiled and took his invitation to enter, feeling his eyes lingering on you as you walked past. He shut the door behind you and with a smooth motion pulled you into a gentle kiss which made your heart soar.
That excitement soon shifted into something darker. A little tinge of guilt pulled at your chest. Part of you didn’t want to break things off- but you knew at the end of the day you and Harry just didn’t fit.
Harry’s hand rested on your waist as he pulled back, his dark eyes flicking over your features. You hoped your guilt wasn’t as apparent as it felt.
Harry gave you a soft smile, the type of smile that was so warm and gentle that your brain seemed to malfunction for a second. He cleared his throat, his eyes sliding from your face to down the hall. “I have a great meal prepared. I hope you like it.”
He led you down the hall, your heels clicking on marble floors. The soft embrace of jazz met your ears as you entered the dining room, making your guilt intensify by the second. The lights were dim, the food was set, the view from the penthouse was glittering with the sight of New York City, yet all you could feel was the pit of dread in the bottom of your stomach. It was obvious Harry had put thought into this dinner and you hated to be the one to have to sour the mood.
Harry hadn’t taken notice of your state yet, striding over to the table and picking up a glass and turning his head towards you with a flash of a smile. “Wine?” He spoke with all the charm a host ought to have, considerate and anxious to please.
You stood there. You didn’t know when you’d stopped walking, but there you were- standing awkwardly away from the table, wringing your hands in a display of obvious nervous energy.
Harry’s brows furrowed and he quickly set down the glass back onto the table and approached you cautiously. “Are you okay?” He asked, you could hear the worry in his voice which didn’t do much to soothe your anxieties.
He took another step forward to rest a hand on your shoulder but when you leaned out of his grasp his hands dropped to his sides in defeat.
“Harry I- I don’t know if I can do this.” You whispered.
“Do what?” He asked.
“This. Us. This relationship.” You admitted. It felt good getting the words out but you hated the look on Harry’s face when you said them.
He looked confused, his brows still pinched and his lips parted. He ran a hand through his hair briefly, looking towards the ground before meeting your gaze again. “May I ask why? I thought we were doing good.”
You took a deep breath before speaking, keeping your voice as steady as possible. “We are- well, were. Harry you’re such a great man and you’ve been so good to me.” You looked away from him and swallowed. “But we need to be realistic. You don’t belong with someone like me.”
Harry paused, almost as if he was trying to figure out if he heard you right. “I don’t… belong with someone like you? What does that even mean.” His voice was low and you noticed his jaw had gotten tense. “Explain it to me.”
“Look around you Harry! This is all so foreign to me!” You explained, motioning a frantic hand around. “I’m not like you- I don’t have nice things! I don’t wear nice clothes- I can’t even fucking pay my rent half of the time!”
Harry shook his head and took a step forward. “Do you think I care about that? How does that change us?”
You fidgeted with the rings on your fingers to distract yourself from the sudden urge to cry. “I’m just trying to do what’s best-“
Harry scoffed in disbelief. “How is this best? What about how I feel?”
“I just wanted to bite the bullet and end things myself instead of you doing it down the road when I’m in too deep. When you realize I’m not enough for you.” You blurted out. The world around you started to blur as tears began to gather in the corners of your eyes. You blinked, wiping a stray tear quickly with the back of a hand. Harry had gone still. You couldn’t decipher what it was he was feeling at the moment, his face just looked blank.
After a moment he ran a hand across his jaw, closing his eyes before opening them again. You stood there in anxious silence, awaiting his response.
“Darling… is that what you think would happen?” He asked gently. The softness of his voice took you by surprise. You’d been expecting coldness, maybe irritation- but not this.
“I just- I don’t know.” You stuttered, another tear slipping down your cheek. Harry stepped forward, drawing close to you and reaching up a hand to gently swipe the tear from your cheek.
“I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?” He murmured, his eyes dancing across your splotched and pitiful features. You nodded quietly, feeling pathetic all of a sudden for getting so worked up.
He was thoughtful for a moment before finally speaking. “Sweetheart, if I had doubts about you I wouldn’t be putting my whole heart into this relationship. You are perfect. There’s no such thing as not good enough. Everytime I look at you I see what matters. A woman who loves me, who I love- who I would do anything for, that I want to take care of.” His thumb ran gentle circles across your cheek. “I don’t care about the things you own- or the money you have. I just care about you.”
He took in a shaky breath, and you felt his hand tense upon your face. “Now if this is just an excuse you’ve come up with because you don’t feel the same…”
You immediately shook your head, covering his hand with yours and gazing up at him. “No- no. Not at all. I.. I love you Harry. More than anything. I just…”
“You didn’t want to get hurt.” He whispered.
You closed your eyes and nodded, leaning into his touch. You felt another tear fall but instead of wiping it, Harry leaned in and gently kissed it away, sending a shutter through your system. Harry watched as your eyes fluttered open to meet his, full of self doubt and pain.
“I would never hurt you.” He murmured. “Never. I’m with you, until you no longer wish to have me. I’m not going anywhere.” His reassurances caused you to feel ten pounds lighter, the honesty of his words diminishing the feelings of inferiority that had previously overtaken you.
Slowly, you leaned in, capturing his lips with a deep kiss. He tasted salty from your tears but still so entirely and wonderfully like him. Harry slid a hand into your hair, cradling the back of your head as you kissed him. You surrendered all your feelings of inadequacy and focused on feeling him. His hands skimmed up your body, holding you tightly against him almost like he was scared of you drifting away. You felt his fingers dig into your waist, bunching up the slippery fabric of your dress, a soft moan escaping Harry’s mouth at the feeling of you. He pulled back slightly, his nose brushing your cheek and his breath escaping him in short pants.
“Can I show you exactly how much I fucking love you?” He asked in a gruff tone that immediately caused heat to pool in your lower belly.
“Yes” You whispered- hands gripping the fabric of his dress shirt, aching for it to come off. He immediately captured your lips in another heated kiss. You thought the kisses he was giving you before were amazing, but this kiss was unbelievable. It was hot and worshiping- like he had waited years to kiss you like this. You let out a gasped sound into his mouth and carefully Harry began to lead you down the hallway, kissing and feeling your body as you went.
You made it to the bedroom and with a swift motion Harry closed the door with his foot. You soon felt the back of your knees hit plush bedding and smiled against his mouth. Harry’s hands slid up your back and touched the zipper at your spine.
“May I?” He whispered. What a gentleman. You nodded, biting your lip with your teeth nervously as he began to slide it down.
You’d never actually had sex with Harry yet. Of course the two of you had made out and cuddled and things like that- but never all the way. Your dress went limp on your body, now unzipped and loose. With a gentle hand Harry pushed both of the thin straps down, causing it to pool on the floor at your feet. He looked down at you in quiet awe, taking in your form and the parts of you he’d never seen before.
“Fuck you’re beautiful…” He mumbled, bowing his head to kiss your neck. You swiftly unclipped your bra, letting it fall amongst your dress and Harry made a little sound of desire. You let yourself fall sat onto the bed, while Harry bent down to kiss you.
He pulled back and slowly kneeled down in front of you. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest at the sight. Harry gently took one of your legs, slowly unclasping the silver heel on your foot. You shuttered as his hands danced upon your skin, taking care of one shoe then onto the next.
Once your shoes were set aside neatly, he ran a hand up your legs, slowly parting them causing you to gasp softly. He dipped his head, nose trailing up the inside of your thigh. Heat flooded your body and all of a sudden you were hyper aware of every move this man was making. Harry ran a palm up your leg to where your underwear was situated and hooked a finger under the fabric.
“Lift your hips a bit darling.” He whispered. You complied and he pulled the fabric down. He dragged your panties off your legs and onto the ground, as you settled back onto the bed. Your body was thrumming with anticipation and an intense desire for the man who was positioned kneeling in front of you.
Again, he parted your legs, wetting his lips before trailing careful kisses up the insides of your thighs. You resisted the urge to tell him to hurry up and just touch you already- his teasing kisses causing you to become impatient and needy. You squirmed a bit and Harry’s eyes flicked up to you, a smirk placed on his lips.
“I’ve got you baby..” He murmured before finally placing his lips where you wanted him the most. You immediately let out a gasp, arching back and gripping the sheets at the feeling. His tongue moved through you with a sort of accuracy that had you dumbfounded and consumed with pleasure. He gripped your hips, keeping you stable as he tasted you, each of your moans urging him to go faster, stroke deeper.
You found your hands slide themselves into his hair, gently pressing him farther into you. Harry didn’t make any moves of protest but welcomed the action, burying his face in you. You felt his nose, his relentless tongue and the vibration of his hums through your core, pulling you closer and closer to an orgasm.
You ached to wrap your legs around something but Harry’s grip on your thighs kept them in their place. Soon your legs trembled and your breaths grew choked and rapid and with a desperate sound you reached your climax, coming undone around Harry’s tongue. Harry coaxed you further through your orgasm, the waves of pleasure hitting you like a restless ocean.
Eventually, Harry took his face from your cunt, looking up at you with a desperate look on his face. Kneeled and drunk on the taste of you he sat, his previously neat hair mussed from your fingers, lips wet and his face flushed. You saw him and thought he looked heavenly with this shirt rumpled and his breathing still rapid.
“Fuck- I could sit here and taste you forever.” He murmured.
“I need you Harry.” You gasped, still coming down from your high. Harry slowly got off his knees and unbuttoned his dress shirt as you watched with hungry eyes. You helped him with his belt as he slid off his shirt before he took over in discarding his pants.
You shifted back on the bed, laying there and watching him until he was naked and crawled on top of you. Your hands slid up his chest as he braced himself over you, eyes flicking over your blushed face and eager expression. You felt the length of him run through your folds and let out a little sound.
“Is this okay?” He murmured. You could see the hint of anxiousness in his eyes that came along with making sure you were okay which only caused you to only want him more.
You nodded cradling his face in your hands as you looked up at him. “Yes-”
He nodded and bent down to ghost his lips over yours before closing the space. You tasted yourself on his lips, his tongue pushing to enter your mouth as he shifted his hips. With a gruff sound he pushed into you, your breath shuttering and your body making room for the fullness of him.
He was gentle and careful to not to hurt you as he started to move, your hands digging into his shoulders as he went. You clung to him desperately, feeling every inch of him and muttering his name between thrusts.
He moved his hips with precision, as praised tumbled from his lips. You felt his breath ghost your temple as you buried your head into his neck.
The two of you moved together as if you’d known eachother for years. With a touch of a hand Harry would make you shiver, with the movement of his hips he would hit the place that made you go over the edge.
The knot in your stomach tightened as he went, pleasure just out of your reach.
“I’m almost there-“ You gasped, your eyes fluttering closed as you clung to him tighter. Harry let out a little sound of pleasure at your gasp. He began to thrust into you deeper, slower, dragging out the movement of his hips to make sure you were taken care of.
Finally with one more stroke you felt the knot in your stomach break, sending waves of pleasure and a sense of bliss through your system. Harry felt you flutter around him, the feeling pushing him over the edge.
He quickly slipped out, his head slumping against your shoulder as he came undone. You panted as you started to come down from the feeling of euphoria that had overtaken you.
“God..” You panted, laying your head back onto the plush pillows. Harry still had himself positioned over you, a look of contentment on his face.
Soon he rolled off of you, taking his place at your side. You were both worn from the activity, finding relaxation in lying there motionless next to each other.
Harry reached out lazily and brushed against your hand gently with his own. You took his hand and felt him slowly bring your palm to his lips and kiss it.
“We still have a whole dinner set up in the dining room.” Harry murmured against your hand. You smiled tiredly at the ceiling.
“We do.” You agreed.
“Shall we then?” Harry asked, pushing himself up and moving to cup your face.
You smiled up at him and nodded after a moment. “Lead the way.”
[summary]: clarkkent x fem!reader | Clark comes home after not seeing him last night and the two of you have a sweet moment in the kitchen.
[warnings/tags]: 18+, MDNI, pnv, on the counter, soft!clark, a little bit of angst if you squint, fingering, not proof read
[wc]: 1.7k
[authors note]: wrote this after seeing a really good clark kent edit using the scene of him and lois in the kitchen.
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The scent of freshly brewed coffee met your senses as you waited for your mug to finish filling at the machine. Your hip leaned lazily against the counter and remnants of last night's lack of sleep was on full display on your face. The dark circles, the messy hair - sleep was becoming harder to come by when your boyfriend happened to be Superman.
Clark had been gone last night, leaving you alone in a bed that always felt way too big and way too cold whenever he was gone. You knew he was out doing good for the city- but you couldn’t help the relentless worry that tortured you.
Your mug finished filling and you let out a yawn and reached for it, the glass warm against your fingers. You took the first sip after a moment of letting the warmth of the mug seep into your weary hands. The coffee slipped down your throat, bringing forth a liquid warmth that spread throughout your veins.
“Morning.”
You turned your head over your shoulder to see your boyfriend, Clark Kent, walking into the small apartment kitchen. His curls were mussed and wind blown and his white dress shirt was rumpled and slightly unbuttoned . A small smile spread across your lips at the sight of him. It was hard to not swoon over Clark at any chance you got- I mean look at the man. He was gorgeous.
You immediately set down your mug and made your way over to him to pull him into a big hug. Clark’s hands instinctively wrapped around your waist, his nose burying itself into your neck. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close to you as you possibly could.
“How’d you sleep?” He mumbled into your neck, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.
“Okay.” You admitted. “I was tossing and turning a lot. I just couldn’t stay asleep.”
Clark paused, before pulling back and looking down at you, his arms still firmly wrapped around your waist. His blue eyes flickered across your features as if they were searching for something.
“I know you worry.” He finally murmured.
You gave him a teasing look. “Me? Worry? Never.”
An amused smile spread across Clark’s face, the dimples you loved so much revealing themselves. After a moment his expression fell back into a quiet state of concern and he reached up gently to tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
“You’re terrible at pretending you're fine. I can’t help but feel guilty for your lack of sleep.”
You shook your head gently. “It’s not your fault Clark. Really.”
He sighed softly, a hand resting against your cheek cradling your head.
“I just care about you. I worry because I love you.” You said gently, assuring him with your tone. “Besides, you keep me up no matter if you're here or not.” You added suggestively, resulting in a laugh puffing past Clark’s lips.
“You’re always full of jokes.” He chuckled, shaking his head.
“You like it.” You whispered, pulling his lips gently to yours. Sometimes after so much time apart you forgot how good it felt to kiss him.
Clark immediately reciprocated your eagerness and pulled your harder against him, the grip on your body tightening. You pulled back after a moment and broke the kiss, gazing up at him flushed and slightly breathless.
“Well what would you like for breakfast.” You asked. Clark blinked himself out of his daze, caught off guard by your question for a moment.
“You just kiss me like that and you’re asking about breakfast?” He asked, a dark brow arched.
“Well I’m guessing you haven’t eaten.” You explained with a smile. “We have eggs, yogurt- or I can make you pancakes if you want.” You listed off breakfast items, causing Clark to emit a low groan. He bent down to kiss your cheek once as a hint that he was thinking about anything but food at the moment.
“We also have bread.. I could make you some toast..” You rambled on as Clark’s lips peppered light kisses across your skin.
You were in the middle of talking about how you would make him coffee when his lips met yours in a tender kiss, shutting you up instantly.
You made a little noise and spoke through his kiss. “Clark I want you to eat something-“
“Really all I want right now is you.” He answered honestly, making your heart flutter wildly inside your chest. “That okay?” He asked against your lips.
You felt his mouth smile against yours and let out a soft laugh. “I guess. But you’re eating after.”
Clark took that as permission to continue, pushing you gently up against the counter, his lips moving against yours with increasing heat and need. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, opening your mouth for him between hot kisses.
With a strong hand he lifted you up onto the counter, your legs parted so he could stand between them.
You slid your hands from around his neck and ran your palms down his chest. You felt the strong muscle of his shoulders along with the hard expanse of his chest. Your fingers skimmed against the buttons of his shirt, aching to have the clothing already off him and on the floor.
Clark broke the kiss briefly to slip off his glasses, his movements making you let out a little giggle.
“What?” He asked, smiling as he placed his glasses on the counter where the two of you couldn’t accidentally bump into them.
You moved your hands to his face and squeezed his jaw gently, a laugh escaping your lips. “Dork.”
Clark scoffed in fake offense. “Really? You’re name calling now?”
“I like that you’re a dork.” You whispered, pulling him in for another kiss, sliding your hands up into his hair. Your mouths worked against each other, building up the aching desire that was stirring in both of you.
Soon you couldn’t hold yourself back and began to unbutton the length of his shirt, the white tank he wore under becoming more exposed. Once his dress shirt was unbuttoned you pushed it off his shoulders. He helped you, slipping it off your arms and tossing it carelessly to the floor. You lived this side of him- the side that wasn’t afraid to make a mess.
You tugged at his tank, gasping into his mouth between desperate kisses. He complied to your silent request and pulled the tank over his head in a swift motion. You pulled back to look at the man in front of you, your eyes shamelessly skimming the length of his torso from where you sat.
“God I missed you.” You said breathlessly. Clark flashed you a dimpled smile in response as you ran your hands up his bare arms.
Things escalated as you both clung to each other, kissing as if your lives both depended on it. Clark helped you peel off the old band tee you wore before helping you lift yourself a little bit off the counter to shimmy down your sleep shorts and panties. Clark ran a reverent hand up your thigh, the size of his hand making it look small by comparison.
You reached for Clark’s belt and he helped you undo the clasp with a soft clink. Once his belt was loose you unbuttoned his dress pants with anticipation. Clark pushed the clothing off his hips along with his boxers, the length of him before you.
In a frenzy of hands, mouths, and skin you guided him to your entrance. You were practically aching for him at this point, not needing any foreplay to get yourself going. You wanted him and wanted him right then and there.
With a swift motion Clark pushed into you, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Your hand flew up to his shoulders as his hand slid to your waist to keep you steady.
“Good?” Clark asked gently as he fully fitted himself inside you, waiting for you to give him the go ahead to continue. You shifted your hips, desperate for movement.
“Yes- Please-“ You nodded. With that Clark began to move, snapping and shifting hips against you. You moaned his name between thrusts, slumping your head against his shoulder.
Clark took a hand from your waist and positioned it at the apex of your thighs, meeting the little bundle of nerves that made your pleasure increase upon contact. You choked breathlessly, your back arching against him at the movement of his finger and hips.
“God- Yes-“ You gasped, your eyes shutting. Your fingers dug into his back, leaving crescent moon shaped marks into his skin.
Clark drove forward, his pace unrelenting. His jaw flexed between movements and you could feel his hand on your waist growing tighter.
You felt a familiar knot of pleasure beginning to form in your gut, signaling that you were growing closer and closer to an orgasm.
“Clark-“ You gasped once, your voice sounding foreign and whispery to your ears. “I’m-“
“I know- I got you.” Clark grunted, trying to keep his composure as he moved forward.
His fingers worked you harder, your legs beginning to tremble as you climbed high and higher. Soon a wave of pleasure crashed into you and you came undone, your face flushed and breath uneven. Your heart pounded in your chest as a sense of bliss settled over your body. Clark’s movements became sloppy as he grew closer to his own climax, the feel of you around him pushing him forward.
With a final push forward his hips stuttered and let out a sigh, his forehead falling against yours. The two of you sat there for a moment trying to catch your breath, the room now smelling of coffee and sex.
Clark tilted his head and kissed your temple gently, his lips lingering a moment. You smiled, a new wave of exhaustion weighing on your shoulders.
“I love you.” Clark whispered against your temple. Your lashes fluttered as his nose skimmed your hair.
“I love you.” You answered back, your voice faint yet full of conviction.
Clark kissed your temple once again before gently patting your thigh. “I’ll make you breakfast. You just rest.”
With the lack of sleep and the fatigue that came along with sex, you didn’t argue. You were just happy that he was here.
summary: save a horse, ride a cowboy. or his mustache.
cw: 18+!!, oral (f!receiving), sorta hate sex, spiteful!reader, whiskey is an asshole CANNON, lowkey delved into a bit of dom!reader sub!whiskey maybe??
an: i feel that agent whiskey needs more love like i never see any fics for him… my beautiful cowboy come home!!!
Agent Whiskey had been a thorn in your side since the day you’d joined the Statesmen.
He was a cocky sonuvabitch, one who was annoyingly skilled at his job and made sure everybody knew about it. He’d trained you when you were just staring out, and he made sure everybody knew just how inadequate he thought you were.
But for every asshole-y comment he made, you saw the way his eyes roved over your body. Or how his jaw clenched if he caught sight of your ass in a pair of jeans. Or the way his throat worked whenever you wielded your pistol.
He was trying to seem nonchalant, but it was obvious that he found you attractive. And, truthfully, you’d be a liar to say the feeling wasn’t mutual.
But it was more than that, really. You liked the idea that you—your body—could have power over him.
Jack always tried to seem like he was above all of that. Like he was a machine in the field. And usually, he was, but whenever you wore that one pair of Wranglers that fit you just right? You found that he was a lot sloppier, his reaction times slower and his movements just a smidge less coordinated. Not enough to be dangerous, but enough for you to take notice.
Maybe that was why he seemed to hate you so much, you wondered. Part of you wanted to just leave it, to not get involved with that douche and just let this curiosity pass. But the other part, the more mischievous side, was yearning to know just how far you could take this. Just how much control did you have over the infamously straight-shot Agent Whiskey?
You decided to put this to the test one day, at the Statesmen’s annual New Year’s Eve party. Champ always threw a wild party under the guise of ‘thanking our agents’, but everybody knew it was just an excuse for everybody to get plastered.
Not that you were complaining, this actually worked perfect for you.
Jack was there, talking with a couple other guys while he downed what was probably his third glass of amber liquid—not that it was showing, the man could really hold his liquor—and laughing annoyingly loud.
He noticed your arrival immediately. You’d picked one of the most provocative dresses in your closet, banking on Whiskey being unable to hold himself back. From the looks of it, your plan was already working.
Now you just needed to get Whiskey alone.
The opportunity sprouted later in the night, when a majority of the guests were at the sloppy drunk level. You had gotten a little tipsy, with the excuse of needing liquid courage, while Jack was just about buzzed. Neither of you were drunk enough to impair anything, but just enough to lose your inhibitions. Or at least, for him to lose his inhibitions and you to gain enough boldness to do something about it.
He was standing off to the side while the others danced to some country song you didn’t recognize, his arms crossed over his broad chest while he took small sips from a red solo cup. You approached slyly, like a cat slinking its way towards an unsuspecting fish in a shallow pond.
He didn’t see you coming until you were right next to him, sidling up next to him so close you could smell his cologne. Musky, with a hint of leather and gunpowder that you assumed didn’t come from any artificial fragrance. He seemed flustered by your presence, his eyes darting down to your cleavage before averting. He swallowed hard enough that you could see his throat work.
You didn’t exactly know how to broach the topic in a demure manner—and that wasn’t really your style, anyways—so you just decided to come right out and say it.
“Whiskey, I want you to fuck me.”
His eyes widened so big you thought they’d pop right out of your head, and he glanced around at the others as if you’d just confessed to murder. He sputtered in a very un-Whiskey like way, lacking any of the suaveness he usually used as first nature.
“Jesus,” he breathed out, downing the rest of his drink in one gulp. “You can’t just…”
He looked you over again, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. His resolve shattered without much effort. “You sure?”
You nodded, already grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the elevator. You pressed the button for the dorm floor, figuring it’d be best to use one of the unclaimed beds for your escapades than a quick fuck in the bathroom. That wasn’t what you were looking for, no. You were seeing how far Whiskey would bend to your will tonight.
He followed you like a puppy, trailing behind you while you marched down the hall and located an empty room. When you pushed the door open and stepped inside, he wasted no time shutting and locking the door behind you both.
He surged forward then, kissing you with a fervor that bordered on desperation. He licked at your lower lip before shoving his tongue inside, the kiss quickly growing sloppy and overeager. You let him nip and suck at your lower lip before shoving him back against the bed. His knees hit the mattress and he fell back in his ass, staring up at you in a way that had you feeling empowered.
Here was the hardened agent who’d given you nothing but hell for months, staring up at you with big brown puppy-dog eyes. It was almost sweet.
Then you unzipped your dress and let it drop to the floor, pulling your lacy panties down with it. You hadn’t worn a bra tonight, so your pert breasts were already exposed to him. The groan he let out was practically animalistic, his hands landing on your hips and tugging you closer.
You relented and straddled his hips, grinding down on his clothed bulge a few times. He was hard as a rock, practically pulsing underneath you. After a few more glides of your hips, you pushed his shoulders until he was laying back on the bed. He went willingly.
Your grin was wicked as you shifted your hips up to his belly, then his chest. Then you were hovering your bare pussy above his face.
Something told you that Agent Whiskey wasn’t exactly a giver. That he much preferred to receive his pleasure through quick fucks and blowjobs, but you weren’t that kind of girl.
You glanced down at him, your smile daring while you hovered above him. Initially, he looked like he wanted to protest, then his eyes fluttered shut and he was grabbing your hips to pull you down flush to his mouth.
His hot tongue found you folds immediately, diving through the slickness and sucking it all up without complaint. He moaned and groaned against your pussy, laving over your clit before shoving the tip of his tongue into your entrance.
You were already close, gasping as your hand found his short strands of dark hair and tugged. He groaned louder now, burying further into you. If that was possible.
His hands were still planted on your hips, and they slowly began to rock you against his face. You got the hint, grinding back and forth on him. Sometimes his nose would rub against your clit, or the wiry hairs of his mustache would tickle your sensitive skin. But really, the practically feral way he worked under you was what had you reaching the edge.
Your body tensed up as you came, back arching while your orgasm had your toes curling. You gushed on Whiskey’s face, coming down from your high slowly. When you finally rolled off of him, the both of you were still panting.
You got up from the bed on wobbly legs, trying not to give Jack the satisfaction of knowing he just gave you the best orgasm of your life. You moved to the pile of clothes you’d left on the ground, slipping back into them while Jack sat up, wiping at his chin and mouth.
He eyed you with confusion as you dressed, still trying to catch his breath. “What the hell? You ain’t gonna…?” He gestured down to his very prominent bulge, and you smirked at the way it pressed against the seam of his jeans.
As you reached behind yourself to zip your dress back you, you shrugged. “Nah, think I’m good.”
He seemed completely dumbfounded, gaping like a fish out of water as you quickly fixed your hair and bid him farewell in a wave thrown over your shoulder. You left him there, probably aching, definitely unsatisfied, and surely pissed.
But you? You’d never felt so damn pleased in your life.
[summary]: joelmiller x fem!reader | After a few too many drinks and a few too many bad ideas you find yourself at Joel’s house injured and saying things you would’ve never said sober.
[a/n]: thought it would be cutesy for reader to be taken care of after injured and drunk. commented thoughts are highly encouraged!!! <3
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You didn't mean to drink that much- really you didn’t. But nights like this where the air was a little too cold and your house felt a little too lonely you couldn’t help but try and quench the feeling with the strong taste of whiskey.
It started with one glass, then two, before you lost count and the liquor began to slide down your throat easily without much of a grimace. It wasn’t unlike you to solve problems with alcohol- retreating into your own version of the world that was less scary and much more easy to bear.
You wandered around your home, socked feet stumbling on cold hardwood, empty glass in your fingers. You’d been living in Jackson for about three months now, yet the loneliness this new life offered was unrelenting. You thought about the people you had met here, and their friendly nature that always felt a little too fake for your comfort. No one seemed to really pay much attention to you except for Joel- who had taken it upon himself to teach you how to shoot a rifle and occasionally carve things out of wood. You glanced lazily at the block of wood that still sat unchipped and unchanged on your kitchen table.
You had asked Joel to teach you because you found that you had nothing else to do. You didn’t have to fear for your life anymore- or spend your days in anxious quietness counting each of your breaths not knowing which would be your last. Joel had been happy, in his own way, to teach you how to start carvings. The gruff man had spent an afternoon patiently teaching you how to mark the wood and how to prep it before shaping whatever you wished to make. You had quickly learned that you weren’t the best woodworker. But despite your struggle Joel was kind and supportive.
The whole situation made you feel so drawn to him. His strong hands holding his knife when carving a fresh block of oak, or his low voice when giving you directions. Maybe it was the alcohol- but you found yourself often thinking about him. What you wished to do with him, the layers you dreamed of peeling back in order to see all of him.
You looked up to Joel, seeing him as a strong figure that had everything figured out. A complete opposite feeling from what you had about yourself.
You slunk over to your kitchen counter, unscrewing the bottle of whiskey that sat half full and poured yourself another glass. You brought the amber liquid to your lips and took a generous sip before staggering over to your kitchen table. The world tilted and swayed around you as you plopped down into the wooden dining chair, eyes trained on the uncarved block of wood in front of you. Setting your drink aside clumsily, you picked up the carving knife laid lonely on the table. It felt cold in your palm, the blade shining in the dim lighting of your dining room.
In hindsight you should’ve been aware of what a bad idea this was. Handling sharp objects, in low light, while drunk out of your mind. But inebriated you didn’t have time to think. You tasked yourself to make something for Joel- to thank him for his friendly attention.
Lifting the knife carefully to the wood you dragged it against one of the wooden corners. Your movements felt sluggish and out of your control, like you were watching a pair of hands do work you weren’t doing. You reached to take a gulp of your drink as you slowly chipped away at the wood.
You decided to try and make a deer because you remembered Joel once expressing how much he admired the animal for its grace and gentleness. He had said it always reminded him that good still existed- that innocence still persisted amongst the evils of the world.
After a few minutes of shaving at the wood you grew impatient at your lack of progression. In hopes of speeding up the process you began to chip away at the wood faster, with harder strokes.
Your uncoordinated slashes of the knife soon became your downfall as the blade slipped through your hand and sliced your palm in a sharp motion. The knife clattered onto the table, drops of blood dotting the smooth wood.
“Fuck..” You muttered, more pissed off about the inconvenience of slicing your hand then the pain. In your drunken haze you had barely felt anything. You’d only realized you’d been hurt when taking in the spreading flow of red that began to coat your fingers.
You pushed yourself up, bloody hand print on the table and picked up the block of wood and carving knife.
“Need fucking.. help with this god damn it.” You slurred, mind foggy as you stumbled towards your front door, managing to slide on your snow boots. You flung open your front door, hugging the bloodied attempt of a carving to your chest and heading down your porch in the snow.
Snow crunched under your feet as you walked, cool wind whipping at your cheeks. You weren’t sure what time it was but all you knew is that you needed to find Joel. You kept trekking through the mounds of white, your long sleeve thermal and sweatpants you usually slept in not doing much to keep the cold at bay.
Soon the flickering porch light of Joel’s house came into view and you walked unsteadily up the walk way. Blood dotted the snow beneath your feet and the steps up his porch.
You knocked loudly, shifting the wood in your frozen fingers. The cut on your hand was starting to pulse, the pain of the injury starting to make itself glaringly known. When you didn’t get an answer at the door right away you knocked again.
The door soon jerked open to reveal a messy haired Joel who had definitely been woken up by your arrival. Upon seeing you his gaze softened then melted into confusion.
“What are you doin’ here? Do you know what time it…..” His voice trailed off as he spotted the blood on your hand and all over the carving you held. He immediately sprung into action taking your arm gently and leading you inside.
“Jesus Christ- what the hell happened?” He asked urgently, looking a little more awake than before.
“I need help with my carving.” You mumbled, holding out the bloodied block. “It’s a deer.”
Joel paused and blinked at you, assessing your state quickly. “Are you drunk?” He asked firmly.
You didn’t answer, a wave of embarrassment at your condition hitting you like a damn brick wall. Here you were, showing up to Joel’s home in such a pathetic state bleeding and totally hammered.
“I… uhm…” You sputtered, trying to gather your drunken thoughts to form a coherent explanation. Joel just sighed and tugged you towards the couch.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Sit.” You immediately complied. He wiped a tired hand down his face and left the room for a moment before coming back with a small container of medical supplies. He sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, gently reaching out a hand to take the carving block and carving knife from your bloody hands. He took your injured hand without asking, assessing the damage with that calculated gaze of his.
“How did you do this?” He asked gently, the hardness of his jaw contrasting the sound of his voice.
“I was..I was trying to carve the wood and my hand slipped.” You murmured, not meeting his gaze like a guilty child.
“While drunk?” He asked with an air of disappointment. You nodded slowly, your brain still feeling sluggish and out of your control.
Silently, Joel took out the cleaning solution from the medical case and poured it on a cotton pad before swiping it over the cut. Pain jolted through your system at the sharpness of the sting. You hissed and tried to yank your hand back. You would’ve succeeded if it wasn’t for Joel’s iron grip on your hand, keeping your palm open and your limb steady.
“Joel it hurts-“ You tried to whine. Joel just let out a gruff sound, continuing to clean and disinfect the area.
“Maybe this will teach you to be careful next time.”
You bore the pain the best you could, opting to focus on the sharp and angular lines of Joel’s face instead.
He finished cleaning the area and took out a roll of gauze, carefully beginning to wrap your palm tightly. You watched him, transfixed by his careful attention and firm grasp. When he finished he set down your hand and leaned back slightly, resting his forearms on his thighs.
“Now why did you come here?” He asked quietly.
You blinked, trying to come up with an answer. “I knew you could… uh probably help. You always do.”
He looked at you intently, the alcohol in your system starting to loosen your lips. “You always know what to do.” You slurred. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. You're always on my mind.”
A flash of surprise crossed his face but he quickly schooled the expression.
You kept going, feeling like weights were being lifted each time you spoke and told the truth. “I really like you Joel- you’re just someone I feel so comfortable with- I find myself thinking what it would be like to kiss you or-“
“Hey- hey..” Joel spoke lowly, reaching out to put a hand on your arm to stop you. “You're obviously drunk out of your goddamn mind right now. I don’t want you sayin’ anything else you may not mean.”
“But I-“ You started before he gently shushed you.
“I think you should go to bed. I’ll get you a glass of water. You can sleep down here on the couch tonight. Okay?”
You nodded pathetically, a twisted and muddled sense of mortification settling over your body.
You watched as Joel stood up with a grunt and left to the kitchen, his bare feet on creaking wooden floors. You laid back on the couch, the musky scent of him filling your senses as you curled up. Joel came back a moment later with a glass of water in his hand. He helped you sit up a bit and take a drink, the world dizzyingly tilting around you. The water slipped down your throat, cooling the heat the alcohol had previously settled in your gut. Fatigued and limp, you laid back once Joel took the glass away from your lips. You heard him pick up one of the draped throw blankets that were slung over the back of the couch and delicately placed it on top of you. The warm embrace of the blanket overtook your body and you immediately began to slip into a groggy sleep.
Before you were fully out you swore you felt Joel’s calloused fingers pushing your hair back off of your forehead- but you weren’t quite sure.
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You woke up in the early morning, a strip of sunlight kissing your face and the smell of fresh coffee meeting your nostrils. You moved to sit up when your head began to pound with the dreaded post drinking consequence of a hangover.
“Fuck..” You muttered, clutching your head.
You eventually willed yourself to move, and pushed yourself up and off the couch. You gazed around your surroundings briefly, taking you a moment to remember how you even ended up in Joel’s house. Embarrassment flooded your mind as memories of your last night behavior began to make its way back to you. You touched your bandaged hand gingerly, remembering the feel of Joel’s sturdy grip on your palm. You shook off these feelings and padded to the kitchen, following the scent of coffee and breakfast.
When you entered the kitchen you were greeted with the sight of Joel’s broad shoulders standing by the stove, spatula in hand as he scrambled eggs.
You cleared your throat once, causing him to toss a brief look over his shoulder. “Mornin’. How ya feelin’?” He grunted before turning back to the stove.
“Better..” You said nervously. “Do you have any-“
“Painkillers? Yeah.” Joel said easily, motioning a hand to the breakfast table where he had prepared you toast and banana slices which were meticulously placed on a plate next to a glass of water and a couple of painkillers. You were surprised by his preparedness and welcomed it with quiet gratitude.
You settled yourself into the chair and took the painkillers before eating your toast. Soon Joel joined you after finishing making himself a serving of eggs.
“I would offer you coffee but the caffeine ain’t good for hangovers.” He said gruffly, taking a sip from an owl mug that you thought to be very pretty looking.
“Ain’t coffee hard to come by anyways? I wouldn’t want you to waste it on me.” You said between bites of banana.
“I wouldn’t mind.” He said in a low voice, avoiding your gaze to eat his meal. You didn't know why but your heart jumped.
After a moment of silence you swallowed. “Look- I’m really sorry for last night. I don’t know what was wrong with me. I shouldn’t have come over like that.” You thought of how you must’ve looked- pathetic and rambling on his couch.
Joel picked at his eggs for a second before answering. “It’s good you came over. Who knows how else you could’ve hurt yourself.”
“Still-“ You insisted. “It was stupid. I shouldn’t bother you.”
He looked up at you at that, his dark eyes meeting yours. The hardness in them was lessened and in that moment he looked almost soft. “You're never a bother. Don’t say that. We all make mistakes.”
You nodded silently, seeing that you couldn’t argue with what he was saying because you knew you would lose. Joel straightened slightly, a tenseness settling over his demeanor.
“I also wanted to ask if you meant what you said.” He murmured, the intensity of his gaze zeroing in on your face. You felt your heart pick up a bit of speed. Flashes of you telling Joel how you thought of him and wanted to kiss him assaulted your memory.
“Just forget I said that- You probably think it was weird…” You trailed off as Joel met your gaze.
“We aren't talking about me. Did you mean what you said?” He said firmly.
Mortified and flushed, you nodded slowly. “I did. I did mean it.”
Joel sat thoughtfully for a moment. You could tell there was something he was turning over in his mind. He looked up at you quietly. “And if I told you I felt that way too?” His voice was rough, barely audible like it took an extreme amount of effort to get the words out.
You stilled, not entirely sure if you heard him right. “You…?”
He nodded. “I don’t know how to do any of this shit anymore… but I do care about you. Last night I realized how much I cared. You scared me.”
A pang of guilt shot through your chest. “Scared you?”
Joel fiddled with his coffee mug. “Yeah. Scared me. You were standing there, all the blood on ya, drunk out of your goddamn mind. I didn’t know if you were okay.”
You took in a shaky breath at his admission. The man who feared nothing, shot down infected with ease, killed mercilessly was scared- because you were hurt. You didn’t know what to say, not expecting Joel’s emotions to be revealed like this.
Joel leaned in a bit, forearm resting on the table. “I don’t know much about… relationships… but I would like to try for you.” he noticed your frozen position and quickly looked away. “Unless that’s not what you want.”
You quickly took his hand, the swiftness of the action momentarily surprising him. “No- I do want this Joel. I want to try it with you. I really do.” You hoped your eagerness wasn’t too obvious but you couldn’t shake the excitement you had towards this new development.
“Yeah?” Joel asked, clasping a rough hand on top of yours.
“Yes.” You nodded. Slowly, Joel took your injured hand and brought it up to his mouth, kissing the bandaged palm with a reverent kiss.
[summary]: joelmiller x fem!reader | Joel comes home to find you baking one afternoon which soon leads you to getting totally distracted.
[warnings/tags]: MDNI 18+, pnv, unprotected, fingering, we are on the counter guys, not proofread, kissing, soft domestic joel!!
[wc]: 2.6k
[authors note]: guess who’s back from the dead. also need that old man!!!!!
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The afternoon light lazily bled through the curtained windows of you and Joel’s Jackson home. It had been a few months of living in the settlement and slowly you were falling into a familiar routine. Most of that- was thanks to Joel. He had taken it upon himself to make sure you were settled in and comfortable for your first few months and soon that attention bloomed into a connection. You’d been living with Joel for sometime and were thankful for his presence everyday. His love kept you grounded in the uncertain and sometimes dangerous world you lived in.
You stood at the kitchen counter mixing a bowl of cookie dough with a strong hand. It was funny to think about how a year ago, before Jackson, you never thought you’d ever bake for fun again. The simplicity of a leisurely activity lost to practicing using a gun and learning all the different ways you could kill a person with a knife.
You turned the page of the little recipe book that laid on the counter next to you, reading over the directions again to make sure you had them all right.
“Preheat oven… to 350… add chocolate chips..” You murmured, brows pinching in determined concentration at the words. You’d already added too much melted butter into the batter than the recipe called for, but were set on still making the cookies turn out great. You weren’t some pro baker by any means- and the proof of that sentiment could be found all over the kitchen. Traces of flour all over you and the counter, egg shells sitting abandoned on a paper towel, and an assortment of messy cooking utensils piled up in the sink.
You dusted off your messy hands on your jeans and walked over to the oven and punched in the buttons to preheat it to 350. The appliance beeped signaling it was starting to warm up and you watched for a moment as the temperature slowly started to rise. You returned to your bowl at the counter and continued on with the recipe with ease.
You reached for the bag of chocolate chips when you heard the back screen door opening, and the sound of heavy boots on creaky wooden floors. The screen door shut and Joel’s voice met your ears.
“Darlin’? You home?”
“Kitchen!” You called back while simultaneously pouring the bag of chocolate chips into the metal bowl of batter. You rationed the amount you poured in, knowing that luxuries such as chocolate chips were getting harder to come by.
Joel poked his head into the kitchen, still dressed in his heavy work jacket, pack slung limply over his strong shoulder. He looked worn but happy to be home, a small smile gracing his lips at the sight of you at the kitchen counter.
“What are you doin’? Didn’t know you were a baker.” He said gruffly, letting his pack slump off of his shoulder and onto the ground by the entryway.
You shrugged. “I’m a woman of many talents. How was patrol?”
He let out a little grunt, walking closer to lean a hip against the counter as you picked up a spoon to fold in the chocolate chips. “Fun as always.” He said with an air of bitter sarcasm. “I know Tommy had the right idea putting me in charge of all the new patrollers but goddamn- some of em’ can’t hold a gun to save their life.”
You looked up at him and gave him a small yet sympathetic frown. “I’m sorry. That sounds stressful.”
Joel shrugged and turned to rest his forearms on the counter, his body curved lazily. “Someone’s ought to teach em’.”
You nodded in agreement and looked back at the batter you were mixing. Joel let out a soft chuckle.
“I see you’re keepin’ the kitchen real clean while you're doin’ all this.” He joked, motioning around to the spotted messes and disarray of the kitchen.
You shot him a pouty look. “You’re critiquing my process. No cookies for you then.”
Joel made a noise of amusement, enjoying the light hearted banter and straightened up and moved closer to you, bowing his neck slightly to place a kiss on your temple as you worked.
“Really? I get none?” He asked, his voice lowered.
“I guess we’ll just see.” You said simply, smiling up at him. Joel’s eyes danced over your face before landing on the small swipe of flour on your lower jaw.
You noticed his eyes pause and cocked a brow. “What?”
“You're a damn pretty mess, sweetheart.” He mumbled, lifting a hand to gently brush the powder from your face.
You felt your heart skip and pick up speed a bit at his actions. Damn Joel Miller and his ability to still make you swoon.
“Damn sweet talker.” You teased gently, swatting at his hand. Joel’s lips pulled into a crooked smile which didn’t do much to soothe your racing heart.
“You like it though.” He drawled, leaning closer as if going in for a kiss. He smelled slightly of cigarettes and leather, along with the warm scent of familiar comfort. You remembered your first few nights with him when you’d bury your head into his chest, breathing him in like you were running out of air.
Your eyes met his, the dark yet gentle glint in them filling you with warmth. Joel dipped his head slowly and captured your lips in a tender kiss, heat flooding your system with a new wave of ferocity that you hadn’t felt before. As if it was automatic, your hand reached up to card through his salt and pepper hair, causing Joel to emit a soft groan into your mouth.
You kissed him slowly, his hands keeping you steady at your hips, his thumbs running slow circles on your clothed skin. You knew where this was headed. You knew from the desperate movement of his mouth, the gentle shift of his hips.
You pulled back after a moment, beautifully flushed and out of breath. “Joel- I would love to right now but the cookies…”
“I can be quick.” He murmured, like a man on a mission. He spoke with the same focused authority he’d use on patrols, direct and straight to the point.
You mulled over his proposition for a bit before pulling him into a heated kiss, giving him his answer. Joel squeezed your hips, and kissed you like a man starved. His beard scratched roughly against your face but you didn’t care- enjoying the feeling of his hands and mouth in your skin.
In one swift motion, Joel hooked his hands around the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up onto an empty space on the counter, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist. You felt the prominent hardness of him pressing against your apex, causing you to let out a little gasp of want into his mouth. Joel took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, tasting and exploring you as you cupped his face.
“You taste like vanilla.” He murmured between hot kisses, his strong nose brushing against yours.
“Maybe I had some batter already.” You answered, breathless and aroused by the whole situation. Heat liquidated lower and lower in your body, making you desperate and full of want.
“I could taste you all day.” He muttered, a hand sliding up to cup one of your breasts, gently kneading and fondling the plump flesh in hopes of hearing you gasp. You moaned into his mouth, wishing he’d just touch your bare skin already.
“Joel-“ You whined softly, tilting your head up allowing Joel’s lips to skim the column of your throat.
“Hm?” He hummed, his lips vibrating against you, sending a shiver through your system.
Your hands desperately gripped the heavy fabric of the work jacket he was still wearing. “More-“ You choked.
Joel let out a shaky breath, clearly affected by your insistence and pressed closer to you. In one swift motion he shed his jacket, causing it to plop itself on the floor. His eager hands moved to the button up shirt you were wearing and quickly worked the buttons till your shirt was open and sliding off. He kissed down your collar as he pushed the fabric of your flannel down your arms and off of your body.
You took your hands and guided them to the clasp of your bra on your back and snapped it open, letting the garment fall off you and onto the floor. Joel let out a little strained sound and immediately moved his mouth to one of your breasts, kissing and praising your body with his lips causing you to arch into him.
You tugged impatiently at his shirt and Joel quickly got the hint, pulling back slightly to pull the black fabric over his head and carelessly toss it aside as if it were an inconvenience. Your eyes skimmed his chest like always, admiring every scar and proof of hardship that presented itself. In moments like this you saw him as a work of art- something that should be revered and admired accordingly.
You brought his face back to yours gently, running your hands over his strong shoulders- shoulders that had carried him through the toughest of times.
Soon Joel helped you unbutton and shimmy your jeans and underwear down, picking you up slightly from the counter before setting you back down gently and letting it slide to the floor amongst his clothes. Between a frenzy of kisses and short breaths you reached for his belt, the clinking metal music to your ears.
He helped you quickly, unbuttoning and shoving down his boxers and jeans, the rigid length of him springing free and desperate for the feel of your body. All while kissing and sucking your neck, Joel took a hand, giant and worn with the use of his gun, and skimmed your center.
“Jesus-“ He muttered against your neck, feeling the slick wetness of your core. He slid two thick fingers between your folds, a groan escaping your lips.
“Always so pretty n’ wet for me.” He said gruffly, holding himself back from going too fast. He wanted to really feel you, make the moment last.
You panted with an anticipation and insistent need for him to be inside of you and met his gaze. “God- Joel I just need you now. Please.” You urged, legs squeezing his waist, and fingers digging into his hair.
“You know I like to take care of you first darlin’.” He hummed, slipping his fingers through your slickness again.
“Thought you said it’d be quick..” You moaned against him.
Joel let out a breathy chuckle. “You know I can’t leave you unsatisfied darlin’. It’s better when I go slower…”
Despite your impatience you shuttered at his words. You were practically trembling with need, Joel always had this overwhelming effect on you that you had no choice but to submit to.
Joel thumbed the sensitive bundle of nerves near the top of your core and you jolted and arched against him, a gasp escaping your parted lips. Joel looked at you and soaked in each of the noises and faces you made, enjoying the fact that he was the one able to make you feel this way.
His pace quickened, rubbing and massaging you closer and closer to an orgasm. He plunged two fingers inside of your heat, a moan coming from your lips. He curled and moved his fingers with practiced ease, the thickness of them filing the previously empty feeling that had consumed you. He worked you and touched you in a way that made you feel closer and closer to heaven. Your eyes squeezed shut and you clung to him, choked breaths gracing his ears as you got closer to the release you chased.
“I’m- I-“ You uttered through broken gasps.
“I got you darlin’. Come on baby- I got you.” Joel murmured, his voice washing heat and affection over you as you tipped over the edge of your pleasure. Your legs trembled around him, his fingers still moving relentlessly inside of you, working you through your orgasm. The feeling of ecstasy pulsed through your veins and Joel felt the warmth of you flutter around him.
You slumped your head against his shoulder, panting and shining with a thin layer of glistening sweat. Joel gently drew his fingers from your core and took them to his mouth, tasting the essence of you and letting out a low hum. You flushed at his actions a shiver of desire traveling up your body.
“I love how you taste.” He said gruffly.
“Please I need-“ You started, before Joel cut you off gently with a kiss to the temple.
“I know what you need darlin’.”
With that he took himself into his hand, circling your entrance before sinking in slowly, your nails digging crescent moons into his back. You both let out stuttered breaths, taking a moment to adjust to the feeling. He sheathed himself inside you, all the way up to the hilt, allowing you to feel the fullness of him. It was always overwhelming at first but you soon became desperate for his movement.
He started off slow, moving himself in and out of you almost as if you were fragile before picking up the pace. In a flurry of desperation, he snapped his hips, holding your waist to keep you perfectly still seated on the cool countertop. Engulfed in the feel of him, you stretched back, paying no attention to anything you may have knocked over on the counter as he continued to pump in out of you. His grip slid to your hips keeping you steady. You dragged your hands up your body, moans escaping your lips as you searched for something to hold onto.
Soon Joel’s hips started to stutter and you could feel yourself start to reach the familiar edge again with a newfound intensity.
“Cmon baby…” He grunted, always willing you to reach your peak before him. He thumbed your clit to heighten and aid your climb. He was a sort of gentleman in that way. “Fuck-“ Joel gasped as he felt you clench around him, achieving your second orgasm from the perfect precision of his movements. Your back arched off of the counter in an erotic way that drove Joel over the edge, pulling himself out and bracing himself on the counter as he came undone. You felt the warm mark of him on your lower stomach and let out a sigh of contentment.
Joel slowly pulled you to sit, a dazed and satisfied look set on your face. You looked messy and beautiful and completely his. Joel gave you a tired smile, kissing your cheek, nose, eyelids, before meeting your lips in a soft kiss.
You hummed against him, sliding your arms around his neck to keep him close. He broke the kiss after a moment, his nose brushing against your rosy cheek.
“God I love you.” He murmured, soft enough that you had to strain your ears to even hear it. You knew he meant it with his whole being, the quietness of his declaration speaking more volumes than anything else.
“I love you.” You whispered back.
Like a piercing arrow through the softness of the moment, the oven timer beeped loudly signaling that it was done preheating. You jumped and then chuckled, leaning your forehead against his, a puff of laughter escaping his own mouth.
“I forgot I was even baking.” You chuckled. Joel tucked a piece of messy hair behind your ear gently.
“I’m just that distracting huh?” He joked softly.
A small smile tugged at your lips and your nose scrunched in amusement. “I guess so.”
“Here- I’ll clean you up and we can get dressed and I’ll help you finish up.” He offered in a low voice, one of his hands brushing against your cheek tenderly.
You smiled, wider this time. You glowed with an overwhelming sense of gratefulness for the man who stood in front of you. “Maybe you will get a cookie then.”
Joel shook his head and chuckled, placing a final kiss to your forehead. “Okay then darlin’. Sounds good to me.”
When requests are open- feel free to enter in prompts into my inbox and I will get to them when I am able!
What I will write: I’m open to most character requests, will write 18+ content, LGBTQ+ content
What I will not write: male perspective (so sorry), clearly self insert characters, distressing themes that are extremely heavy, inc3st, extreme age gaps.
