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johnwickb1tsch · 2 months

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 21 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-You toss and turn, of course, utterly unable to sleep.

Your body does not get the memo that it’s a bad idea to fuck a man like John Wick, who is a killer who is holding you prisoner, and refuses to simmer down. You are uncomfortably swollen between your legs, your pussy aching with frustration, and in the wee hours of the morning you are certain you are about to lose your goddamn fucking mind.

How is he really going to fucking know?

This is the stupid little thought that plays through your tired brain as you writhe beneath the covers, running hands up over your torso, pretending they are his.

Imagining his touch tweaking the sensitive tips of your nipples, his fingers buried inside you, seeking that sensitive place that drives you wild.

Yours are too soft, too small, not long enough or thick enough by half.

You try to trick yourself that it’s his unrelenting touch circling your clit, furious in his claiming of your pleasure as his own…

It’s not enough by half, and the release that washes over you is a paltry consolation at best, a weak pleasure that you know is a sad facsimile of the real thing. Still, you can’t stop yourself from sighing his name, and how has he mind-fucked you so royally in such a short amount of time?

It pisses you off, and in a last act of defiance for the night you flip off the camera high in the corner.

He’s probably not watching anyway. He’s probably asleep, snug in his bed with Dog, the bastard.

Feeling sad and not really sated at all, you curl into a ball and try to finally get some rest. It’s lonely in this big bed all by yourself, and by the time sleep finally claims you your pillow is damp with tears.

-When finally you wake in the morning, you are cold. The covers are down around your waist, and your shoulders ache, your arms at an odd angle out in front of you.

You never sleep like this.

There’s something on your wrists.

You open your eyes, blinking away the blur of sleep. Your vision focuses on something red.

A very neat line of shibari style knots encircles your wrists and half your forearms. They would have been beautiful, in a different setting. Like, not on your body, without your consent.

They’re not so tight to cut off your circulation, but they’re not exactly comfortable either. You strain against the silk rope, and find you can’t budge them.

You are so fucked.

“I warned you.”

John is sitting in the chair in the corner, watching you. He’s wearing all black again, a button down and slacks this time. Looking his best for you, or does he have somewhere to be? It’s not something you would have paid attention to before, but this morning, you can’t help but fixate on the fact that he’s wearing a leather belt.

Because you’re an idiot, you snipe anyway, “Wow, looks like someone earned his merit badge in macramé.”

He just smirks at you, the beautiful bastard.

“I’ve got more than a badge, honey.”

“Very funny. Untie me.”

“You’ll have to earn it, bad girl.”

Your heart skitters around in your chest as you wonder what that means.

He goes on, “Did you really think I wouldn’t see you last night?”

“Guess I assumed you’d be sleeping. It was way past your bedtime.”

He scoffs at the old man dig, leaning forward on his knees, fixing you with that hawkish gaze. “I found out I only sleep well with you in my arms, darling. Wouldn’t that have been nice last night?”

Yes, it would have. However, you just frown at him.

“So, was it worth it?” he pushes.

You sigh, half tempted to tell him how utterly unsatisfying your little session of self-indulgence had been. Rather than answer him, you look at the knots again. They really are beautiful. It makes you think of the book binding shop you’d visited in Florence, and the complicated stitches and knots they used to affix the signatures of pages together.

This man likes binding all kinds of things, it seems.

“Are you hungry?”

Only then do you notice that he has a plate of breakfast foods on the little table beside him. Eggs, toast, and bacon. A little plastic cup that might be water or juice. Your tummy answers with a rumble. Dog did eat your dinner last night, and John never offered you a replacement sandwich. At the time you’d been too worked up about…everything, to care.

“Maybe.”

He huffs a little laugh at you. “Come here.” He pats his knee, and you realize he wants you to sit on his lap—so he can feed you. A little growl in the back of your throat escapes you, and it only makes his smirk widen.

“God, you’re adorable when you’re angry.”

“I’m not hungry,” you grouse.

You are starving, and you both know it.

“Come. Here.”

There’s that chilling tone of voice again. It does not fail to fill your veins with ice, your heart skipping a beat before skittering irregularly in your chest. You’ve come to understand that it means playtime is over.

You are so fucked.

It is awkward, getting out of the bed with your wrists tied like this. You almost fall on your face, your foot getting tangled in the sheet. From John’s forbidding expression, you don’t think he would have caught you from hitting the floor this time.

You are still only dressed in the thin nightie, and the air is cold on your skin. Your nipples tighten, forming sharp peaks beneath the fabric, the silk lending agonizing friction that makes you want to press your thighs to relieve some of the sudden ache between them.

Last night so did not help you with this problem, and John’s eyes fixating on them does not help either, and you wonder if you’ll be in trouble when you stain his neat looking pants leg with your slick after sitting on him.

“Come here,” he says again, his tone much gentler this time.

Defeated, you shuffle forward, letting him guide you to perch on his knee with a hand on your hip. You barely manage to suppress a shudder as possessively his hand slides just under your skirt, resting on the warm pillow of your thigh. His long fingers are so close to your center, but he makes no move, letting you stew in it.

Bastard.

Only then do you turn to look at him, finding his gaze fixed on your face. “Good morning.”

When you say nothing in return he lifts one eyebrow, and you swear, this man will be the death of you out of frustration alone.

“Good morning,” you finally return, hating the meek timbre of your tone.

“Do you like scrambled eggs?” You nod, and he scoops up a forkful. You notice the fork is plastic, and you wonder if its for your safety, or for his.

He’s clearly never seen Hot Tub Time Machine.

“I would have taken you to breakfast in Venice, but someone had to run away.”

“Well, someone was an insufferable prig the night before,” you return primly, wondering what punishment this will earn you, unable to stop yourself from saying it anyway. He actually smirks at this, though his grip tightens a bit in warning on your thigh. Not enough to hurt, but oh.

You are definitely leaving a wet spot on his trousers, and you hate yourself a little more for it.

You finish your breakfast bite by bite like the good girl you’re apparently not. It was good, if not the weirdest seating arrangement you’ve ever endured. You tremble inside, as you wonder what he has in mind for you next, now that your energy is up and you are trussed like a holiday goose for his pleasure.

You couldn’t be more surprised, than when he deposits you on the bed, kisses your cheek, and bids you, “Have a nice day, sweetie.”

“Wait!” you exclaim, whirling as he is already halfway to the door, swinging his suit jacket about his broad shoulders. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

You hate it, that hearing this fills you with panic. “Are you coming back?”

“Do you want me to come back?” There is a dangerous glitter in those dark eyes, and you know that is a question loaded with fourteen in the clip and one in the chamber.

You decide on, “I want you to untie me.” Holding up your wrists as exhibit A.

He shrugs a little, and you know that was not the answer he wanted. “Maybe later.” Then he sweeps out of the room, leaving you staring dumbfounded at the door where he’d just been. The man is like a fucking ghost.

“Bastard!”

You hope he hears you, but you suspect the epithet falls on deaf ears.

-Your first order of business, of course, is trying to undo these beautiful fucking knots. Unfortunately for you, they are tight, and secure, and John was smart enough to make the finishing hitch with the end tails on the opposite side of your wrist where you cannot easily reach them with your teeth.

Sonofabitch.

If he’d left you Dog for company you could have enlisted the pooch’s formidable chompers, perhaps, but no dice on that one.

Fine.

You sit under the covers for a while, because you’re cold. You try to read, but it is infuriatingly difficult to turn the pages of a book and read comfortably with your hands like this.

You are certain lunch time comes and goes, without a peep out of John.

Did he actually leave you?

You hate it, how the thought makes a trill of panic vibrate in your chest.

Fine. It’s fucking fine.

He thinks he can break you with alone time? You? You are the Queen of Introversion. You can go for days without human interaction, happily, so long as you have a sketchbook or a book. Bring it on, Mr. Wick.

He left you the water cup with the straw, and boy is that an adventure to refill in the bathroom when you’re thirsty.

Going pee without making a mess is no small feat either.

You pace the room, just to get some exercise. You look out the window, watching the birds in the trees.

You laugh to yourself, banging your head against the bulletproof glass. How funny, that you’d once fancied yourself Jane Eyre, when it turned out you were destined to be Mad Bertha locked up in the attic by Rochester all along.

You hate to admit it, but by the time the sun is starting to set behind the trees you are going stir crazy with wondering where the fuck he is.

It’s definitely not because you miss him.

It’s just…these fucking ropes, of course. It’s not those burning dark eyes, or those large sure hands, or that sturdy long body he likes to press to yours. It’s not that the silence of the room feels empty without his deep voice, even if he’s using it to taunt you.

It is late by the time you hear the locks on the door whir, and you have been sitting in your nest in bed feeling listless and way too sorry for yourself. You are half out of your mind with boredom, and your shoulders and elbows ache at the joints from the restraints at your wrist. You try not to show it, but you are ready to climb up the fucking walls.

Like he might have some inkling of this, John pays you a knowing smile, assuming his seat with the confidence of a king in his throne room. He snaps and pats his thigh, no words this time, expecting you to obey.

Someday, you are going to make him pay for this.

But now…there’s nothing for it but to play his twisted game.

He’s prepared some kind of stir-fry tonight, with vegetables, beef, and rice. You are starving by now, and it smells heavenly.

Again, the food is good, simple but filling. He feeds you forkful by forkful with a careful tenderness that could make you weep. Your time with John is like a game of Russian Roulette. Spin the wheel, which John shall you receive this minute?

It’s easy to hate Mean John. Insufferable Ass Hat John, could drive you to murder. But Sweet John? You would do anything, for Sweet John, and you’re afraid he knows it too.

It’s only been a day, really. Is that right? A day? And already, you feel yourself slipping into the mould he’s fashioned for you.

Perhaps in a knee-jerk attempt to counter this, you ask, “Did you used to play this game with Helen?”

He freezes with the fork halfway to your lips, his hand underneath your skirt with his dead wife’s name in your mouth.

You meant to throw him off, but as far as you can tell, all it earns you is a scoff. “No.”

“Why not?”

He actually seems to consider your question, toying with the food again, re-loading the fork with a different bite. “I was never afraid she would leave me. Funny, how that worked out.”

You feel like he’s handed you an important piece of information. Emboldened by his quietness, you dare push, “And…what do you think she’d think, about what you’re doing to me now?”

“I’d say she lost her vote, when she left me.” The indifference is gone; this is delivered with a stinging bitterness, and you realize he blames her for leaving him. There’s a clue in this too, and you feel like the solution to all this is an illusive thing hovering just barely out of your grasp. If you can find just the right words, push just the right buttons…maybe you can bring him back to sanity?

“She never would have left you on purpose, John. She got sick. You’ve got to forgive her.”

And accept you can’t control everyone around you. Then preferably, untie me! motherfucker.

The only indication he gives that you’ve upset him is the tightening of his fingers digging into your thigh. You’re going to have bruises, but if he’s actually processing what you’re saying, it’s a price you’ll gladly pay.

He just continues to push the medley of food around on the plate, shaking his head in silence. Disappointed in his nonreaction to your question, you sullenly accept the next bite.

Three seconds later, your mouth is on fire.

You squeal with panic, leaning for the plate to spit it out. But John’s big hand clamps over your mouth, a hard glint in his eyes, and you know you’re going to have to swallow it. It takes three tries, but you manage, tears streaming from the corner of your eyes.

You can do moderately spicy food, but that was just fucking diabolical.

“What the fuck?” you hiss between coughs.

“I knew you’d have something smart to say tonight.”

You try to reach for the water cup with its stupid little straw and your stupidly bound-together hands, but John sets it out of reach. “Oh my god, please?”

He speaks calmly, as though the lining of your mouth is not being eaten away like you took a bite of rice laced with battery acid. “You keep speaking about Helen like you knew her. I suggest you cut it out. Unless you would like all your meals seasoned like this.”

You blow a long breath of air over your tongue. It only sort of helps.

Mother. Fucker.

You glare daggers, but for now, you’re wise enough (broken enough?) to keep your epithets to yourself.

He sits back in the chair to regard you, tossing the fork into what’s left on the plate. You’re still hungry, but you’ll be damned if you eat anymore from that dish. You flinch as he reaches for you, though he is not cruel as he grips your hair at the base of your head. Just…exacting, and he guides you to perch on the edge of the chair between his legs, your bare ass fitted against his crotch.

It feels good as he starts to braid your hair, a jarring contrast to the pain still simmering in your mouth. You whimper a little, despite yourself, arching into him behind you. You didn’t even mean to, really, but it wins you a low groan that fills you with forbidden warmth.

This is so fucked.

Nothing you’ve experienced in your life has prepared you for handling this.

When he finishes he wraps the new handle of your plaited hair in his fist, pulling you back against his chest. He is warm, and solid, and you fail royally as you try not to enjoy this contact. It’s ridiculous, but all you really want is for him to hold you.

He speaks against the shell of your ear, his other hand lightly encircling your throat. “I’ll never let you leave me.”

Your heart drums frantically in your chest; he means business. You can just tell, there is an unyielding hardness in his tone that somehow wasn’t quite there before. You thought you could reason with this man, but maybe you were wrong, or maybe you only succeeded in pushing his sanity the other way, further into the red.

Maybe there’s nothing left to reason with, and that is the thing that finally, truly scares you.

“Maybe you need something else to fill up that sassy mouth.”

With his improvised handle he guides you down to sit between his splayed legs. Your eyes are drawn to the newly erected tent in his pants, that formidable bulge that should be the stuff of your nightmares, but still inspires a maddening longing inside you.

Why do you have to feel so empty, when he’s near?

Frustrated by the unfairness of it all, you glare daggers up at him. You know what he’s angling to extort out of you, of course. It makes you sad, but not for the reason he might have expected. It makes you sad, because you would have rubbed your knees raw sucking him off, if he’d just asked you nicely.

“Thanks, but I’m full.”

He snorts at that. “Yeah? Someone doesn’t want her hands untied that badly.”

Now, that is something you want, and maybe you’re willing to play with that on the table. You’ve never thought of yourself as someone who is easily led, but he is good at manipulating you. It makes you wonder if any of it was ever real, or if this is just a game he’s been playing with you from day one.

The thought makes you sigh, and you rest your cheek on his lean thigh, closing your eyes.

He looks down at you like you’re a puzzle he’s not quite sure how to solve.

Welcome to the club, Mr. Wick.

“Were you planning this all along?” you ask. “When you were so sweet to me? Am I that fucking stupid that I didn’t see this coming?” Obviously, from the clothes in the closet, he’d hoped you’d come stay with him at some point, but all the rest? It feels spontaneous, like the way something hard can suddenly crack with too much pressure. But then again, maybe just because it took you by such fucking surprise.

He strokes your hair, and that gentle touch just makes it worse somehow. You feel the sting of tears in the corners of your eyes, because that gentleness is all you wanted from him. The ironic part is that he wouldn’t have had to do any of this shit, just to keep you.

You do not love easily, but once you do…it is a total, and all-consuming thing.

“I don’t know,” he answers begrudgingly. “I just…couldn’t let you leave me.”

You think about how he’d been an orphan. He’d lost his parents. He’d lost his wife. He’d lost his dog. He’d gone on a rampage and slaughtered an entire Russian Bratva…for the loss of a dog.

In perspective you guess he’d actually behaved rather tamely, at the threat of losing you. This man does nothing by halves, and the only thing John Wick fears, it seems, is losing those he loves.

Is that what he’d meant, when he said his love was a curse?

It doesn’t excuse it, but there is a key somewhere in that, you reason. A key to freedom, or the gates of Hell, you’re not really sure.

You do your best to blink away your tears. Maybe it’s stupid, because you’re not half as tough as he is, but you don’t really want him to see you cry.

He lets you sit like that for as long as you want, stroking your hair. It’s almost sweet, and it gives you time to collect yourself.

Someday, he’s going to figure out it’s best not to give you a chance to plot your next move. It occurs to you that maybe you have one last card to play.

You sit up slowly on your knees between his legs, and you can feel the intensity of his gaze weighing upon your skin. You reach for his belt, brushing his erection through his pants, his manhood twitching in anticipation. For just a second, he allows himself to close his eyes.

Maybe you have power too. You just have to figure out how to use it here, and maybe not lose you mind over how thick and wonderful he just felt beneath your hand. That unhelpful pulsing between your legs casts its vote. You try to unobtrusively squeeze your thighs for some relief, but you fear this man sees everything.

Good for you, that your voice sounds almost steady. “I have to say, you’re a brave man, Mr. Wick.”

It is not easy to work the buckle of his belt with your hands bound like this, but somehow you manage, even pulling it from its loops. You fight the urge to throw the damn thing across the room, but settle for resting it at his feet.

“How do you figure?”

“Well...” You flip open the top button of his pants, your fingers shaking slightly. “If we are engaging in that time-honored exchange of a favor for a blowjob... and you just essentially carpet bombed my mouth with napalm...wow, you do like to live dangerously.”

He sits still as a statue for a good few moments, weighing what you’re telling him, gauging if the capsaicin would transfer through your saliva to what is arguably the most sensitive area of his body. You’re 98 percent certain they would, and a part of you hopes he’ll opt to try it even after you warn him.

It would make for a neat little slice of revenge.

But then, what you really want is out of these ropes, and you hope your honesty will win you some points with him.

In the end he catches your hands, as you are awkwardly trying to work his zipper.

“Maybe we'll skip that for now.”

“You sure? Where’s your sense of adventure?”

He narrows his eyes down at you, and you wonder if you’re inventing it, or is there a glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes?

“In my other pants.”

In the end he pulls you back up into his lap with a grumble.

You suspect you’ve only delayed the inevitable, but you feel some satisfaction for your little coup.

“I’ll be back,” he tells you, (threatens you?), depositing you on the bed, gathering the dishes and sweeping out of the room. You have a feeling this interaction was not half as satisfying as he’d hoped it would be.

Well, good.

Bastard.

-When he returns, he brings you a cup of milk. Though most of the pain from the chilis has already subsided by now, you accept it for the calorie count if anything.

“Are you alright?” he asks with a hand on your cheek, looking you over appraisingly.

Thinking this might be your best moment, you lift your bound hands with a pitiful pout, blinking your eyelashes innocently.

“Will you untie me now?” you ask in your sweetest tone, words loaded with contrition.

“You think you’ve earned it?” he asks, and you sense this is a perilous path you’re approaching.

“I’ve been good.”

“Hmm.”

“Come on. I mouthed off. You punished me. You had your fun. And rather than give in to my initial vindictive impulses, I saved you from a very uncomfortable evening. It’s the least you can do.”

He actually chuckles at this, stroking your cheek with his thumb. He seems softened by your bright little tirade, but then this man’s mood can change on a dime.

“And, it’s starting to hurt,” you add.

It’s not a lie, and it seems that is the thing that makes him pause.

“You don’t like my knot work?”

Your heart lodges in your throat, and you know you must proceed with caution, or you’ll be wearing this shit for a week at least.

“Your knots are very fine, Mr. Wick.”

Your captor practically purrs at hearing that, a low rumbling sound from deep in his chest, his hand burying in your hair. It sends a tingling thrill all across your scalp.

You’ve come to reluctantly love his fixation with grabbing your mane.

You really are losing your mind.

“I’ll make you a deal, kitten.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll untie you…if you will take a bath with me.” His tone is the low rumble of a jungle cat, and your heart leaps into your throat. You knew this was coming, eventually. Maybe you just didn’t expect it tonight.

Looking back, you’re not sure why.

“NowI get to see you?”

You are still puzzling over the way he’d outright prevented you from undressing him, in Venice. It was almost like he’d been afraid, and you don’t understand at all. He’s fucking gorgeous, and you’re pretty sure he knows it. So…why?

“I told you, you weren’t ready then.”

You suspect the real answer is that he wasn’t ready, but for once, you don’t contradict him.

He runs a finger down the line of his neat knots that are starting to bite into your flesh. It’s starting to affect the feeling in your fingers, and you know that can’t be good.

“So? What do you say?”

You crane your neck to look up at him, drinking in the lines of his handsome face, his straight nose and proud lips, and the delicately drawn sweep of his eyes. Even with the shadow of a black eye, courtesy of you, he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. You shouldn’t want him, after everything he’s done to you. You shouldn’t, but you feel yourself inevitably drawn to him, like the moon pulls the tide.

You feel like you’re signing a piece of your soul away to the devil on the dotted line, when at last you nod.

He puts a hand to his ear with a smirk. “What was that?”

Your groan comes out like a growl.

“You have a deal, Mr. Wick, sir.”

His low rumble of approval gives you chills, and when he turns your face up to kiss you sweetly you utterly melt beneath his hands, jarred by the contrast from earlier, but not questioning it. You bask in the press of his soft lips, greedy for his tenderness, hoping stupidly that this is the way things will be from now on. Then you yelp with surprise as suddenly he scoops you up with his hands on your thighs, carrying you into the bathroom.

#please enjoy this absolute chonk of a chapter #you guys have earned it!#i loooove you!!!!#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick fic #keanu reeves x reader #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere john wick x you #yandere john wick #yandere

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beardedjoel · 10 months

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closer | part seven

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: joel invites you over for a very unforgettable night together. 8k words.

chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), soft!dom joel, joel being domestic and cute, unprotected piv, creampie, rough sex, spanking, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink

You walk into your parents’ kitchen with headphones on, completely in your own world, just coming in to get coffee that you know they’ll have brewed by now. You’re mouthing the words to the song in your ears, even moving your body a bit with the rhythm as you open the door and walk in. You don’t see your parents anywhere but you shrug, heading to the coffee pot and pouring a mug full. You’re practically putting on your own performance at this point, getting that good feeling when your shuffle seems to know exactly what songs you need to hear as you start to move your hips a little, getting into it.

You turn and quickly freeze, seeing Joel and your parents standing near the entrance to the kitchen that leads to the rest of the house. Your mouth remains hanging open where it was about to belt out a long note and your eyes immediately hit the floor, but not before you notice Joel holding back the biggest grin. You pull the headphones out of your ears and put on your best polite smile, remembering that your parents aren’t supposed to know just how well you know Joel. You clear your throat, mumbling out a small apology - you don’t think you need to apologize for them walking in on your little show, but you find yourself saying it anyways.

“You remember Joel from next door,” your dad says somewhat awkwardly to try to diffuse the embarrassing tension in the room, and you press your lips together and nod maybe a bit too enthusiastically. Acting natural right now doesn’t feel like your strong suit, but you’re going to try your hardest - it isn’t easy when they’ve just surprised you like this. You are definitely about to tear into him later for not texting you beforehand with a heads up.

“Yeah, of course. Couldn’t forget how helpful you were the other week,” you keep up the smile, feeling like your face is about to crack any second.

“Nice to see ya again,” Joel says with a slight, polite nod, and damn, you’re impressed by how believable he is right now.

“You too,” you say, then look at your parents. “What’s uh, going on?”

“Well, Joel here was so kind and helpful, we wanted him to take a look at the grout in the bathrooms, just to let us know what he thinks. I felt like it needed work when we bought the place, and Joel here has offered to have his crew help us fix it up, isn’t that just so sweet?” Your mom beams at you, and you almost choke a little on your coffee at hearing Joel is about to be that much closer with your parents.

“Oh, wow,” you try to exclaim despite the absolute anxiety tearing through you right now. “That’s awesome. Very, uh, neighborly.”

“No problem at all,” Joel says, turning towards your parents again with a kind smile.

“Oh, honey, would you show him your bathroom too? I know that apartment is a newer addition, but it looked kind of like a rush job to me,” your mom says, and her inner perfectionist is showing big time. You at least have a chance to be alone with Joel for a moment and break this act you’re putting on.

“Sure thing, we’ll be right back,” you say, leading Joel out the door and around to the staircase. The second you’re climbing the stairs, you turn back and look at him wide eyed, and he stifles a laugh.

“Not. Funny,” you grunt out, opening the door. The moment it’s closed behind you, Joel grabs the sides of your head, crushing his lips against yours. You moan a little, immediately grabbing at his waist, wrapping your arms around him and sliding your hand under his shirt and up his back. His lips part and his tongue traces along your lips, begging for entry into your mouth. You return the motion, scrambling your hands all over each other as you make out like two teenagers. You’re against the door now, your need for Joel growing by the second, and you wonder how long you could be gone before it’s suspicious.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, pulling his mouth off of yours. “Come over tonight,” he blurts out. Joel’s forehead is leaning against yours now, his eyes closed.

“Okay. Usual time?”

“Dinner time, 6:30,” Joel says. He breathes for a few moments, unable to tear his forehead from yours. “Wish I could do everything I wanna do to you right now, but we’ll have to wait, won’t we?”

You whimper a little at his response as he pulls further away, heading towards the bathroom. You highly consider jumping him and pulling him down onto your bed, saying screw it to this time constraint and getting him all to yourself for as long as you need. Instead, you lean in the doorway of the bathroom with your arms crossed, watching him work as he inspects various aspects of the tiles and fixtures in there.

“Don’t tell me you’re poutin’” Joel says, glancing over at you.

“No, I just…” You rub a hand down your cheek, feeling a bit stressed out. “I just can’t wait for later,” you say, trying not to sound like the whiny, clingy girl you feel like, thinking that’s likely the last thing Joel’s looking for. He finishes his inspection, walking over to you and kissing you lightly, barely a brush against your lips.

“It’ll be worth the wait, baby, I promise you. Trust me, I’d rather stay cooped up in here with you all day.” You crack a smile - it’s like his words have a lifting effect, hearing that he wants to do the same exact thing you’d thought of moments ago.

“We aren’t done talking about the fact that you just showed up here without warning me, by the way,” you tell him as the two of you make your way back to where your parents are waiting for you.

“Oh, you’re tellin’ me. We are definitely divin’ into that little concert of yours,” Joel says, and you simply scowl and push him on the arm, feeling the embarrassment of the memory hitting you hard.

After talking to your parents, the agreement is that Joel is going to work on your bathroom as well, maybe bring some of his crew in to get it all done quicker. They’re going to work out the logistics of it later, he says, and all you can think about is the fact that he’s going to be in this house for days doing the work, maybe even during times when nobody else is home. You decide maybe it won’t be such a bad thing after all, and you have to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot during the conversation as the realization hits you. In fact, this could work out perfectly, you think - an easy excuse to spend plenty of time around Joel without seeming too obsessive and scaring him the hell away from you.

That evening you knock on the door, despite Joel telling you that you should just start walking in if he’s invited you, but it feels too presumptuous to you at this stage of things, so you settle on continuing to knock. Joel answers the door, opting to not say anything about it, and welcomes you with a grin. You take a step inside and as Joel is closing the door behind you he leans in, capturing your mouth in a long, deep kiss. You melt immediately at the warmth of his lips on yours, and the way he’s brought his arms around your waist as he kisses you.

“Hi there, darlin’” he says, pulling back.

“Hi.” You smile back, and wrap your arms around his neck and lean back in. You kiss him a little more urgently, already feeling the familiar anticipation creeping in that happens whenever you even think about Joel. He gives right into it for a few moments, backing you into the wall right next to the door, pressing his body close.

“Wait,” he says, moving back a bit. “Not right now, or else everything will burn.” It’s like as soon as he says it, the smell immediately hits your nose - you’d been too distracted by him taking up every one of your senses when you walked in to notice that it smells incredible in here. You slide off your shoes, following Joel back to the kitchen with curious eyes peering around. He immediately heads over to the stove, where you see a pan full of bright vegetables cooking, along with a pot of boiling water. There are ingredients all over the surrounding counters, along with the cutting board and dishes he’s been making throughout the cooking process.

“What’s all this?” you ask timidly, approaching closer to the stove, unable to hide the huge smile that’s on your face.

Joel gives the pan a stir and then turns back to you. “What’d I say? Told you I would, so I’m makin’ you dinner, baby,” he replies, and you have to press you upturned lips together in an effort to not squeal in excitement. Not that you necessarily doubted him, but you genuinely thought that was just something people might say and never follow through on.

You let out a small chuckle. “Joel… that’s so… sweet,” you say, feeling somewhat speechless. You approach closer to the stove and look at what he’s doing, but he shoos you away playfully. You reach to move some of the dishes to the sink, and the second Joel notices he stops you.

“Hey, none of that. You go sit over there,” he demands, gesturing over to the kitchen table. You sigh in defeat, but you can’t stop smiling as you sit down, watching Joel pull out a wine glass and set it on the counter.

“You like white wine?” he asks, and you must look surprised, because he adds, “I drink wine too, y’know.”

“I can see that,” you giggle a little, “And yeah, white wine is good with me.” Joel takes your confirmation as a signal to pour you a glass and bring it over.

“How was your day? Other than terrorizing me at my parents’ house?” you ask him as he heads back over to the stove, working to drain the pasta. He laughs, then shakes his head.

“Listen, they approached me, and how could I say no? They’re sweet people.”

You roll your eyes before taking a sip out of your glass. You decide that Joel surprisingly has good taste in wine. “Yes, they are, unfortunately.” You ponder for a few moments before bringing up what you’re thinking. “So, you’re going to be over there quite a bit? For how long?”

“Depends how many people I’m able to spare for the job.”

“Wait, are you, like, in charge at your work?” You crinkle your brow, a little smirk spreading on your face.

“Er, yeah. Tommy and I, we run the contracting company.”

“Oh, shit. That’s so cool, I had no idea.” You really feel like you’re beaming with pride for him being so accomplished, really having his shit together. Meanwhile, you feel the complete opposite these days.

“Thought you only wanted to be around me ‘cause I’m such a big shot, owning my own business and all that.” He looks over his shoulder at you with a wry grin.

“Oh that’s definitely it, yeah.”

“Damn,” Joel quips. “I will be around quite a bit at your parents’ place though, so we’ll have to make it work if you don’t want them to know about… well, us. We’d be officially sneakin’ around.”

“I kind of thought we already were,” you admit with a little smirk.

“Guess that’s true. You’re alright with that?” He stops working on the meal and leans back against the counter, facing you.

“I just assumed… that you didn’t really want people to know we’re messing around. Since it’s just… casual, right?” You say the words awkwardly, realizing that you two hadn’t really talked about this yet, and you have been making a whole lot of assumptions this entire time. You try to fight the little sad twinge that pops up inside of you when you admit about it just being casual, because you’re beginning to worry that for you, it isn’t. You could really see yourself falling much deeper into the way you feel about Joel, and it’s scaring you.

“Yeah, right,” Joel replies after a thoughtful moment. “Just casual. We both like each other, and spendin’ time together, and doin’ other stuff together,” he smirks, and you chuckle a little.

“We do like that other stuff,” you joke, trying to lighten your own internal mood. “So yeah, I guess I’d prefer if my parents don’t know right now, I don’t want to make them feel weird about having you in the house, or something. I don’t know.” You quickly run your hands over your face, feeling the stress of the situation mounting.

“Hey, don’t stress, baby, we’ll figure it out. We can just keep it quiet, then.” He turns back to the stove, trying to finish up the meal. You let him focus on cooking while you’re lost in thought. To be honest, you know logically you should be keeping this relationship quiet for everyone’s comfort, but part of you wants to run outside and scream to the whole world about how obsessed you are with this man. You sigh, downing some more of the wine, and feel yourself wanting to just enjoy this night with Joel instead of focusing on all this other shit.

A few minutes later he’s placing a plate of salad and pasta in front of you. Your eyes go wide at the beautiful, delicious presentation - you’d definitely been right about Joel being a good cook, you think as your nose picks up the scent coming from your plate.

“Wow, Joel,” you exclaim as he sits down across from you with his own plates of food. “What is all of this? Pasta primavera?”

He smiles and nods. “Sure is, I always see you eating those vegetables with dips and hummus and stuff in your yard, so… I figured you might…” he trails off, rubbing his neck. Your mouth hangs open a little, unable to believe that he was this thoughtful with the meal he chose to make. It made the butterflies you already felt around him intensify at the thought that he’d wanted to please you that much with this.

“That’s so thoughtful, Joel,” you say incredulously. “I love this dish, actually, so spot on.” You look up at him with a small, shy glance and then back down to your plate.

“I’m glad, darlin’,” he replies. “Okay, well dig in,” he says, looking expectantly at you, and you realize that maybe for the first time since you’ve met him, he actually seems a bit nervous about something. You’re very tempted to poke fun at him about it, but you decide against taking the opportunity, forking the salad and taking a bite.

“Shit, that’s good,” you call out quickly, covering your mouth as you chew. “That dressing…”

“Er, I made it,” Joel says more quietly than normal before taking a bite of his own.

“You’re not serious. And you tried to act like you’re not a good cook!” you playfully scold him, continuing to dig into the meal. Joel watches you eat with a pleased, satisfied look on his face - this is clearly something he loves doing to take care of people in his life. When you’ve eaten every bite of your meal and downed your wine, Joel refills your glass once, and you sit back a little in your chair and soften your eyes looking in Joel’s direction.

“Thank you,” you say. “I don’t think someone has cooked me anything like this before. A guy, I mean.”

“You’re welcome baby, was all worth it to see that pretty smile on your face,” he says, and your face gets hot from a combination of his words and the alcohol warming your insides. You end up talking for a while longer, Joel’s gaze steadily changing throughout the interaction, until he looks at you with that look, the one you’re beginning to learn very well.

“Want to come upstairs with me?” he finally drawls, the look in his eyes deepening.

You nod, feeling a little breathless already at the insinuation. He stands up and silently takes your hand, leading you to the stairs.

Joel’s bedroom is very much what you expected based on the rest of his house. He walks in and turns on a side lamp, illuminating the room just enough for you to look around a bit easier. There is a blue comforter on the bed, a few pillows, dark wood dressers and night tables, and nature themed photos on the walls.

Joel wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, humming a low groaning sound in your ear. “Been wantin’ this…” he murmurs, and you instantly know what he’s talking about. Your heart pounds a little faster now, knowing you’re finally getting what you’ve wanted too. It doesn’t stop a nervous flutter from your stomach though, knowing just how big he is and what’s about to happen. You lean into him and close your eyes, breathing in his scent as his hands ghost across your back, sending you shuddering a little.

“Me too…” you reply, tilting your head up to kiss him. He takes the cue and captures your mouth with his, his tongue sliding over yours as he kisses and bites lightly on your lip.

“You just impressed me with your cooking to try and seduce me, huh?” you murmur quietly in between kisses.

“Well, did it work?” He arches a brow, looking down at you.

You give him an unimpressed look before kissing him again. “Obviously.”

“Somethin’ tells me I didn’t need to cook all of that to get you up here,” he replies.

“Shut up,” you tease. “You’re not wrong.”

“Cause see… I know exactly what to do to make you go crazy, baby. Wouldn’t have needed to do much…” he pushes into you now, forcing you to take a few steps back, until you feel a wall near the doorway behind you. He’s right, you’re already completely losing your mind at this simple interaction, his form towering over you, dominating you. “All I need to do is ask you to be a good girl and fuck me, and you’d do it.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you feel the dull ache of desire beginning to ignite inside of your core. You haven’t said anything, and Joel is looking at you expectantly. “Isn't that right?” he says, his eyes going darker as he scans your face.

You nod. “Yes.” you manage to breathe out. “Let me be good for you baby, please.” Your body arches towards him, the aching spreading in between your legs and you feel yourself starting to get wet. Joel’s head tilts down and his lips meet your neck, kissing lightly, sending you arching even further into him with a soft moan escaping your lips. The kisses trail down your neck and to your shoulder, where one of his fingers moves under the strap of your dress, pulling it gently down your shoulder where it falls easily. He traces his fingers lightly and teasingly there, planting a kiss on the same spot as his fingers brush down your chest to the top curve of your breast. He brings his head back up and looks at you, that glazed look of desire in his eyes as he watches you react to his fingers brushing over your already hard nipple before dipping back down and kissing your neck again. You inhale sharply, fluttering your eyes closed and leaning your head back against the wall.

Joel grabs your chin, then brings his mouth up to yours, capturing your lips in a ravenous kiss. You’re already a delirious mess for him, returning the kisses with equal passion. His hands are roaming quickly, one tracing down your back while the other squeezes your tits, groaning at the feel of your body underneath his fingers. You reach with slightly trembling hands in between your bodies and start to hastily un-do the buttons on his shirt. He moves his arms so he can shrug the shirt off of him, and you both stop for a moment while you take in his topless body in front of you, dragging your fingers down his chest.

“You have entirely too much clothing on, darlin’,” he drawls, watching your eyes eagerly take his body in. In reply, you pull your dress off over your head and discard it on the floor, leaving only a pair of panties on you now. You watch Joel’s eyes change quickly, and his hands grab under your ass and begin lifting you up, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck to hold yourself close as your feet leave the ground. Your legs fling around his hips and wrap tightly around him as he pushes himself in between your legs, completely closing the gap between you two. You’re pushed against the wall, Joel’s strong arms holding you up as he kisses you.

Joel carries you the few steps to his bed and lays you down, immediately covering your body with his as he crawls on top of you. Your legs are still wrapped around him tightly, not giving him any space as you breath heavily, anticipation and nerves building steadily inside of you. You can feel Joel’s cock pressing through his jeans onto your bare leg, and you desperately want it, are beginning to feel a need for it to be inside of you. Joel has begun to steadily kiss his way around your chest, stopping at one of your nipples and swirling his tongue around it. You grit your teeth, bucking your hips into him.

“Joel…” you moan out, reaching your hands down to his belt, fiddling with it while trying to maintain any sense of composure as he steadily works his mouth alternately on both of your nipples. Your cunt is becoming more of a needy, aching thing with every passing second, and you press your hips into nothing, just Joel’s jeans in the way of what you really want. His belt is free and you hastily unzip his pants and reach in, fisting his cock in your hand. Both of you make a relieved groan at feeling one step closer to what you wanted. Joel grunts into your skin as you lightly trace your hand around his shaft, working your way up to the head.

“Always so impatient, baby,” Joel says, his voice coming out slow and down an octave, clearly feeling the pleasure you’re trying to give him with your touch.

“You already know how crazy I feel about your cock,” you reply with a smirk as Joel shoots his gaze up to your face, his expression changing rapidly to the devilish one you’ve seen before. It appears that talking about his cock like that seems to do something for him just like his praises do for you.

“Yeah, sweet girl?” he asks, grinding his hips down a little into your touch, “You think about this cock all day, huh?”

You nod slowly. “Wanting you inside of me, fucking me to pieces, fucking me until I can barely walk. Or move. Or think,” you run your other hand across his shoulder and down his arm, sending goosebumps across Joel’s skin. Joel growls low, pressing himself harder into you. You don’t know why he’s torturing himself like this when he could already be buried deep in your mouth or cunt right now - he knows that’s the only thing you’re eager for, after all.

“I’m sure we can accomplish all of those things tonight, darlin’,” he says, leaning in for a whisper of a kiss on your lips that leaves you wanting more. Just the thought of it has your skin on fire, your core twisting with burning anticipation. You can feel the way your panties are wet with that same anticipation, and you’re practically about to beg for Joel to take them off and see just what he’s doing to you. As if he could read your mind, Joel shifts his body and hooks his thumbs on the sides of your underwear, pulling them down your legs.

“Christ,” he murmurs to himself, seeing the thick line of wetness in your panties, practically dripping from your pussy at this point. “Never gets old, baby,” he says, glancing up at you for a moment. You shy away a little under his stare and the fact that you’re laying bare before him. He tosses the panties somewhere nearby on the floor and feasts his eyes between your legs before quickly diving in to feast with his mouth, as well. It’s unexpected, and you gasp at the sudden feeling of his tongue swiping through you, trying to lick up every bit of wet desire for him down there.

“Tastes so fucking good,” he says, pulling his mouth off of you before he reaches down to start taking his jeans off, and you feel your internal excitement rising as you see him just in his briefs now, a navy blue pair. You lean forward to play with the waistband of his underwear, teasingly sliding your finger along it and giving him begging eyes.

“I know what you want…” he smirks.

“Then give it to me,” you try demanding. He simply tuts and shakes his head, deciding to pull of his briefs, and finally, fucking finally, Joel is naked. You take a deep breath as you look him over as he crawls back over top of you, seeing his cock looking so intimidating and hard. You suddenly feel an anxious trembling taking over your body again - sure, you’ve had 3 of his fingers fit in there, and those are large, but… this? It’s safe to say that despite how badly you want him to fuck you, you’ve been a bit skeptical about how it’s going to feel at first, or even fit. Joel seems to notice you getting in your head, because he reaches up to your face and looks into your eyes.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” he asks softly.

You bite your lip, feeling so ridiculous. “I don’t know if it’s dumb, I’ve been literally dying for this moment but I’m just nervous, about… you know…” and you glance down towards his cock. Joel chuckles a little, but not in a way that he’s laughing at you, more like he finds you endearing the way you’re completely naked and still saying “you know” to reference having sex with him.

“Baby,” he coos, stroking your cheek. “Nothin’ to worry about, okay? You say the word and I’ll stop at any time.”

You smile tightly and nod, feeling a bit more ready than you were. Joel crawls off of you and reaches over to a bedside drawer, pulling out a condom and putting it on. You weirdly find yourself frowning at it, despite the appreciation for him trying to be safe and considerate, you’d kind of hoped to feel all of him today. One thing at a time, you remind yourself.

You try to embolden yourself a little bit, wrapping your legs back around him and settling your hips in a better position underneath him. Joel’s legs are now in between your legs, his cock resting close to your entrance. You almost whine at the feeling of it, just the head feeling so big against your folds. Your body responds before you can even think, sending your hips forward a bit into him, and Joel takes that as a cue to push his own hips forward as well. The head of his cock pushes in and you gasp a little - at the way it feels and surprise that it isn’t quite as uncomfortable as you’d expected. You moan softly, fingers running down Joel’s back, and you decide to push your hips up a little more, pulling him a bit deeper. Joel groans in pleasure, pressing his lips together for a moment to compose himself.

“Perfect fucking pussy,” he breathes out each word slowly as he slides in further, and you gasp softly again, but don’t stop him. You’re starting to wonder what you were so worried about, but then you realize how full you feel and he isn’t even all the way in yet. You give Joel a cheeky smile and guide him down into you with your legs that still are wrapped around him. You let out a breathy chuckle at the feeling of him sliding in as far as your body will let him.

“My god,” you murmur, blinking a few times as you adjust to it. Joel strokes the side of your head, smoothing your hair, giving you a sweet smile and eyes that are glazed over with the heat of the moment.

“That’s it,” he says softly, “My good girl.” You beam at him now, adjusting your hips a little, and it elicits a slightly shaky breath out of Joel at the feeling of him shifting inside of you. He can’t help it, he starts moving, gentle thrusts partially in and out of you. Everything he’s done to you and with you has been beyond your imagination, but this… there are no words, you think.

“F-fuck,” you stammer out quietly as he moves a little quicker, sliding his cock in and out of you. It definitely feels like a stretch on you, but in the best way, you’ve never felt so fucking full before like this and it’s making you feel insane with the pleasure of it. “Need you faster,” you say quietly, completely overcome.

“Insatiable,” he teases, one of his favorite ones for you, with a smug grin. But he gives you what you’re asking for, upping the pace of himself inside of you. You moan, feeling him touching that perfect spot deep inside of you, lightly now, but your anticipation for him to slam against it is sending an excited nervousness into your belly. Your legs around him anchor you as you lift your hips up to meet him with each thrust, your breathing shaky.

“Don’t forget, you’re s’posed to not be able to walk after this, remember?” Joel says with a grin. You don’t get a chance to reply, because he’s decided to try and make that a reality right now as he pushes hard into your cunt, leaving you breathless. He begins thrusting rhythmically much faster into you, his hands grasping into your hips tightly, digging into your ass and squeezing. He pulls you close to him, his body right against yours as he buries his head down next to your neck.

“This tight little pussy…. so perfect, sweet girl,” he groans into your ear, showering you with kisses along your neck before looking right into your eyes. “It’s all mine…” he says quietly, and the heat behind his stare almost makes you shy away. You nod, and let out a breathy “yes,” barely able to speak with the way his cock is pushing deep inside of you with every movement of his.

“Tell me,” he says, his stare not letting up.

“It’s all yours, this pussy is all yours, Joel,” you cry out, and your words are his fuel as his hips roll slightly with every push now, his breathing heavy.

“That’s fucking right.” Joel’s pace doesn’t let up, and uses one hand to play with your tits and the other reaches down to your clit, rubbing circles. You’re completely submerged in just him, every part of your mind focused on the places you can feel him pleasuring you, and it’s overwhelming. Your whole body shakes a bit, trying to adjust to all of these sensations at once, and it’s building up to a climax quicker than you realized as the familiar tingling sensation grows inside of you.

“Fuck, just like that,” you cry out, praying he doesn’t let up - your climax is right there, you’re barreling towards it, just one more perfect touch and -

It hits you suddenly, Joel’s cock pressing right where you need him, and your insides burst with the fiery, tingling sensation you crave from him. Your hips buck forward, and you moan long and low, his name spilling from your lips in between each one. Your hips are spasming, pushing you into him, and he grunts, keeping up with the pace of what you need to ride out your climax. You slowly stop shuddering, relaxing back for a moment with quick breaths. You open your eyes and catch Joel smiling down at you, still slowly moving his cock inside of you. It feels good, soothing almost, on your sensitive cunt.

“We’re far from done here.” His voice goes down low again as his hips pick up the pace a little bit. You can’t really speak yet to reply, so you nod a little with heavy lidded eyes, willing to give him whatever it is that he wants.

Keeping himself inside of you, Joel picks you up by the hips, flipping you so that he’s underneath you now, and your legs straddle him while you sink down onto his cock. He groans at the new angle and depth he’s getting right now, and you have to say, it’s doing something for you too. Despite you being on top, Joel still takes all the control, grabbing your hips tightly as he practically lifts you up and slams you down onto his cock. You bounce on your legs a little, helping him along, but he’s the one setting the pace. You rake your hands down his chest before bending forward, settling onto him so that your face is in the crook of his neck. Your breath tickling there seems to urge him along, and he bends his legs up a little to support your ass as he continues to move your body for you, quickening the pace. The way you’re positioned, you’re getting just enough movement on your clit from your bodies touching that you can feel another climax building up quickly. You moan, feeling the depth of Joel’s cock inside of you as he pulls you all the way down onto him in hard, eager, movements.

“Yeah,” he grunts, “Good girl, such a good girl. Come on this cock again, baby,” Joel demands, and you know that he can feel how close you are again. You can’t help but roll your hips a little each time he brings you down onto him, until you’re crazed, trying to pull yourself down more quickly than he is.

“Yes, fuck, right there, Joel,” you cry out, and holy fuck it’s amazing. Another bursting of tension rushes through you, and your body is tight against Joel’s, pushing your hips into him quickly and desperately like your life depends on it. Your moans cover over the loud slapping of flesh, echoing through the room until Joel starts whispering praises in your ear.

“Mmm,” he groans, “That’s it, comin’ so good for me, sweetheart.” His words feel incredible as you soak them in during all of this, your body shuddering on top of him as you can feel the ridiculous size of him pumping into you. In this dazed moment of passion, you want to do good, only good, for him, you want to worship him and let him fuck you any way he wants, anywhere, any time. You don’t think you could deny anything to someone that feels this amazing as you clench around them.

“God, Joel, I’d do anything to be good for you,” you whine out, almost unintentionally, coming down from your climax. You can’t even regret it when you feel this intoxicated by him right now.

“Oh, baby, you already are.” He strokes your hair, brushing sweaty strands off your face, and you pull your head off of his shoulder and stare at him with glassy eyes. It takes everything in Joel not to come right there with the way it feels to be looking at that expression while his cock still rests inside of you. “So good for me,” he reiterates, looking at you with amazement.

“Anything…” you murmur, blinking slowly, unsure even what you’re trying to convey. All you know is you’re moving your hips again slowly, wanting him to feel the pleasure you’d just received. Joel’s breath hitches a little, and he lets out a few whispered moans. You watch his face closely, and suddenly his expression hardens, as if he’s made up his mind on something.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he commands, and you blink for a moment, trying to come out of the post-orgasm daze you’d been in to slide off of him and move as he’s directing you. He sits up once you’re off of his lap, and he quickly helps you redirect your body, grabbing you by the hips as you try to plant your hands on the bed and stick your ass up further for him. You breathe heavily, anticipating what he’s going to do next.

What you don’t expect is for him to smack your ass hard, but once he does it, a rushing feeling goes through you. He had said he was going to smack your ass on that first night, and now he was holding to it.

“That’s for all the times you were teasin’ me, girl,” his raspy voice chokes out before slapping both of his palms onto your ass cheeks and gripping them. “Said this was a perfect fucking ass.” He lets go, and you whine a little, not sure where this urge for him to continue doing it came from, but like many experiences with Joel, you seem to be learning a lot about yourself.

“You think…” you breathe out as you glance over your shoulder at him, “Just the one smack will do?” Joel laughs deviously in reply, leaning his body over top of yours and getting close to your ear. You can feel his cock brush against you, so hard and throbbing that you feel yourself get wet at the mere touch of it on your leg.

“Does my good girl want to be punished? Is that it?” he says, a darker grit to his voice coming through, and you nod furiously, looking at him with a begging stare. He can barely contain himself, grunting as he moves back, pressing his hips flush with your ass. One hand pushes down on the middle of your back, pressing the front half of you into the mattress, leaving your ass lifted up off the bed. Joel positions himself quickly, a frantic energy to him as he slides his cock between your legs, coating himself in your wetness. Then he plunges in with no mercy, giving all of himself at once, his entire length slamming into your cunt. You yelp at the sensation, but the sound is covered completely by a loud smack on your ass, then another.

You moan as your pussy stretches to take him all over again, and at this angle it’s absolutely devastating. Joel’s hand is still holding you down, and you’re only able to stay right here, taking exactly what he gives to you as he moves his cock into you as deep as he can go, over and over. He smacks your ass again, and it’s starting to sting more, but you find it’s urging you on, and you fucking like it. Despite Joel’s hold on you, you’re able to slide your hand off of the mattress and reach up to start rubbing your aching clit.

Joel’s hand moves from your back, reaches around you, and covers your own, stopping the movement on your clit for a moment before he wraps his hand around yours and begins directing the motions, putting himself in charge of your pleasure once again. The added pressure of his hand on your clit is already close to pushing you over the edge and you find that you find you physically can’t stop making noise, whimpering and moaning for your climax that’s so close within reach now.

Joel’s other hand soothingly rubs your stinging ass cheek, and you find your hips pushing back into it, wishing he’d smack it again. When he does, a louder groan slips out of your mouth and you feel the beginning of another orgasm rolling through you. Joel’s hand continues to move your finger frantically over your clit, and your hips buck into it as Joel keeps up the pace of his thrusting hips into you. It’s all so much, too much, and you’re crying out for him as the sensation sweeps your entire body and your muscles go tense and rigid with the pure pleasure of it all.

“F-fu-uck,” you manage to push out of your throat, barely able to get anything out that isn’t a scream for Joel. His breathing is quick, erratic, now and he plunges deep into you at the tail end of your orgasm.

“Gonna come baby, right in that pussy,” he groans out. “Tell me again, that it’s mine.”

“It’s all yours, Joel. My tight little cunt is all for you,” you sigh, feeling him tense as his cock drives all the way in once more

“Yeah, that’s right, baby,” he moans out, one of his hands holding tight onto your ass while he bucks his hips a few times as he comes. Your breathing quickens slightly again feeling him pump into you, knowing that you were able to undo him like that. He stays as he is, still inside of you, collapsing onto your back a little bit.

“Jesus,” he breathes out, relaxing a little bit. “You feel so fucking good, my sweet girl.”

You completely relax down onto the bed, and Joel turns onto his side and tucks you into him, still refusing to pull out of you. He moves the now sticky hair off of your neck and plants light kisses there as he spoons you. You moan quietly into it, feeling the prickle of his stubble on your sensitive skin there and the way his still heavy breaths hit you. After a few more moments, Joel scoots his hips back, finally pulling out of you, and it’s such a difference in feeling you find that your mouth opens in shock for a second. You also unsurprisingly find that you miss the feeling already, desperate for more now that you’ve had this taste of it.

You lay there, completely still and practically stunned speechless as Joel slides out of bed and over to the bathroom attached to his bedroom to take off the condom. He returns moments later, laying back down next to you and observing your expression. He reaches over and pulls you back to him, nestling you into his side as you put your head on his shoulder.

“How’re you feeling, hm?” he says, nudging you a little.

“I feel…” you say quietly, taking a deep breath in and thinking of any word to describe this indescribable feeling you’re having right now. “Wow,” you finish with the out breath, and Joel laughs, his chest rumbling your tangled bodies.

“Wasn’t too much, right?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned for you.

“What? No,” you say quickly, moving your eyes to his face. “That was everything.”

“Everything, huh?” he teases you, pulling you in a little tighter.

“Everything,” you respond, staring intently at him.

“It was really somethin’, I’ll give ya that. Can’t believe just how good you are to me, baby,” he says, nuzzling his head down onto yours a bit and then kissing your forehead.

“You make it easy, you know.” You feel a little shy at how mushy you feel like you’re being right now, and it’s hard to meet his eyeline suddenly.

“Oh yeah? How’s that, darlin’?”

“You’re good to me first,” you say, smiling up at him. “Makes me want to do anything you want or need, to keep you happy.”

“Baby, you have no idea how well you’re keepin’ me happy,” he replies, with a big squeeze of your entire body, and you giggle, then laugh even harder when his hands brush a little on a ticklish spot on your side. You squirm, but Joel flips himself onto you, pinning you down before slowly tracing a finger over the spot he’d tickled moments earlier. You squeal, writhing under him.

“Stop!” you gasp, continuing to laugh and fight his grip.

He catches your mouth in a kiss, immediately sliding his tongue against your bottom lip, then dancing it into your mouth to meet yours. You return the motions, pulling back slightly after to nip at his lip before diving in for more. Joel pulls away reluctantly, looking down at you like he could do this for hours. You instantly go a little red at the way his eyes are lit up and fixed on you laying naked underneath him. Despite the way he’s starting to turn you on all over again, you can already feel the aching soreness in between your legs that you know is going to stay there throughout tomorrow, and you decide against going another round with him.

“It’s fair to say I think walking will be difficult right now, so we accomplished that” you blurt out, your way of saying you two should probably call it for the night. He rolls off of you with a satisfied smirk, settling down next to you on the bed. You readjust, catching the time on Joel’s bedside clock in the process, and tense up, realizing how late it’s getting. You start moving, standing off the bed and searching the floor for your underwear as you gather your dress in your arms.

“What’re you doin’?” Joel asks with a concerned expression, propping his head up a little off the pillows.

“I- I was going to head out, I saw it’s getting kind of late.” You twist your mouth to the side and bite your lip nervously, fiddling with the fabric in your hands. You feel so exposed right now, standing completely naked and feeling too awkward and shy to just ask to spend the night, even though it’s what you really want.

“You don’t have to do all that, darlin’,” he replies, rubbing the sheets where you’d just been laying. “Come back to bed.” Your eyes widen, and you feel yourself tense with excitement at what he’s implying.

“Can I -“ you start, and Joel nods with a kind half smile.

“I wanna wake up next to you tomorrow, sweet girl,” he says, and your heart leaps a little. You press your lips together to repress some of your smile, not wanting to give away just how happy what he said made you. You drop your clothes and slowly crawl back into the bed. Joel reaches for the bedside lamp to turn it off, plunging you two into darkness aside from the moonlight streaming in. He pulls the sheet up over you both, then his body is up against yours again, seemingly unable to stop holding you close.

You’re exhausted, but you want nothing more than to stay in this moment with him. “When’re we seeing each other again?” you murmur out sleepily.

“My god, you insatiable girl,” Joel chuckles heartily. “Tomorrow mornin’.”

“After that,” you whine.

“Very soon, baby. No use worrying about it now.” He takes a look at your heavy eyes, blinking slowly in an attempt to stay awake. “Get some sleep, darlin’,” he says, continuing to hold you.

You agree with an affirming noise, letting your eyes close, but you feel like you can’t shake the worry he’s telling you not to have. You feel like all of this is too good to be true, that any moment will be your last with him. You’re starting to have more and more of a hard time separating the physical and mental aspects of this thing you’ve jumped into with Joel, and it’s gnawing at you as you try to fall asleep. You said earlier in the night that things were casual, but had you really meant it? And what the hell would it mean going forward if you hadn’t?

#i loooove them so much #i need joel to smack my ass when is it my turn????#fic: closer #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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