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covetyou · 1 month
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egg hunt
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pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (m! receiving), balls, questionable use of sex toys, semi-public blowjobs, eggs, Joel is a giant bunny, feelings, misunderstandings leading to angst. word count: 5.9k summary: Catching Joel dressed as a giant rabbit in your backyard wasn't on your bingo card for things to happen to you this year. But, what waits for you beneath the bunny suit, and in his basket, aren't the only surprises you'll have tonight.
A/N: truth be told I find eggs genuinely, criminally funny in every possible way, as well as disgusting, so happy Easter!
These egg things are hilarious, but also not nearly as fun as they seem, though if I'd had the genius idea to stick 'em on some balls I imagine I would've had a much better time tbh.
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You almost don't notice, too busy shoving your cup harshly against the ice dispenser before taking a long, deep, gulp of the cold liquid. But then you see it, and it's not the shock of cold to your esophagus that makes your eyes widen, spluttering icy water before sucking in a desperate breath.
No. It's the ghostly white figure rummaging around in your backyard on all fours.
You duck down just as it stands, holding on tightly to the counter edge with both hands, before crawling to the backdoor to check it's locked, keeping you safely inside away from whatever this thing was. But, just as you reach for the latch, the creature stands on two legs, stretching back with two thick arms on its waist.
The figure is broad, and tall, and... dressed in what appears to be a giant bunny onesie. Even with it's head covered in a white hood, bunny ears flapping as the creature bends and moves, you know what it is. Who it is. You'd recognize those shoulders just about anywhere, and no one else would pull something like this at 9pm on a Sunday.
It had been weeks since you last saw him, but you can't say that was a surprise - what you had wasn't exactly a regular thing, if it could be called a thing at all. That doesn't mean you hadn't been hoping for it, counting down the days to the next holiday in hopes you'd see him again - There was no denying your disappointment St. Patrick's day came and went with no sign of a leprechaun and a pot of gold. Now, he was finally here, dressed head to toe in a bunny suit, doing fuck knows what to your lawn.
"The fucker..."
Unlocking the door, you slink out into the night, sliding it closed behind you before creeping across the yard. This was new, getting to be the one to surprise him. He may have been in your yard, but with each soft step of your foot on the grass it looked like you were finally going to one up him.
But then he turns around, looking toward the house and seemingly straight through you for a moment...
Before his eyes focus on you in the dark, and everything in his hands goes tumbling to the ground as he practically leaps out of his bunny suit.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ."
"We've got to stop meeting like this," you say watching Joel's giant bunny ears flap in the air with his movement as he bends, reaching down to the grass to pick up the basket he dropped.
"You half scared the shit outta me, what're you doin' out here?" he grumbles as he rights himself.
"What are you doing out here? It's my yard. You Bunny Joel this time?" you joke, crossing your arms over your chest in a not-so-smooth attempt to cover yourself. Getting properly dressed had been the last thing on your mind when you stumbled down the stairs, legs still jelly and head still fuzzy from post-orgasm bliss. The only thought that registered was how damn thirsty you were as you tugged a worn, old shirt over your head and made your way to the kitchen. It wasn't cool enough to blame the temperature shift on your quickly puckering nipples, and you didn't feel like explaining where your panties were or why your thighs were simultaneously sticky and slippery. You're just grateful you put on anything at all, and at the very least it was long enough to cover your ass.
Joel smirks, your fruitless attempt at modesty not going unnoticed. "Ain't no regular bunny, darlin'. I'm the Easter Bunny."
"And the difference is...?"
"Eggs."
You laugh, folding yourself over a little as you giggle into the night. The whole get up really is ridiculous enough on its own, yet here you are discussing the nuances of being a giant bunny with a man more fond of playing dress up than anyone else you'd ever met.
"Eggs?"
You spot them as soon as the word leaves your mouth - four colorful eggs sat neatly in his basket, and another nestled into your flowerbed. Only, they don't look like normal eggs at all. Squinting in the dark, the yard lit only by shitty solar lights you'd bought online last summer, you can make out the neat patterns swirled all over them. This was not the handiwork of some enthusiastic child dying eggs for Easter - they looked professionally painted. Joel shakes the basket at you as you continue to squint at it, and you realise not a single one has cracked or broken, even after being dropped on the floor.
"What are they? Egg shaped bouncy balls?"
"Got some balls right here if you're really that interested," he jokes, looking obscene as he waggles his eyebrows at you beneath the hood of the bunny onesie. "Here, they're just these... things. My brother got 'em for me as a joke, it's a long story."
He passes you one of the eggs, the surface smooth and cool in your hand. There's writing on it that you can just about make out, but you still have no clue what you're holding as you turn it around in your palm.
Sensing your confusion, Joel offers a choice gesture, as he explains that they're for "Y'know."
It clicks. Well, sort of. You know for sure then that they're not something you could sneak away for some solo playtime, like with the plug he dutifully left on by your bedside so many weeks ago but maybe, like the contraptions Joel had strapped over his balls your last two encounters, you could enjoy them together.
"Wait, so... you're giving me a thing for anatomy I don't even have?"
"No it's not like that, I just thought - I, well, shit."
"I'm just fuckin' with you, Bunny Joel. Though giving me a gift that's really a gift for yourself is a bit of a dick move."
"Ain't a dick move if you like 'em, sweetheart. And it's Easter Bunny Joel," he corrects with a wink, smiling at you as he drops the basket on the ground to pull at his neck tie. The man looks good in pink, you think, as he fiddles with the floppy satin.
"Y'know, Easter Bunny Joel doesn't quite roll off the tongue."
"Don't it?"
"Nope," you say with a pop, pinching the material of Joel's Bunny onesie to feel the fabric between your finger tips as your roll the egg across the palm of your other hand. "Think you need a better name than that."
"Okay, I'll bite. What you got in mind?"
You're walking your fingers down his chest now, dancing them in a criss-cross pattern across the fastenings at the front of the suit until you reach his hip and slowly you drag the tips of your fingers closer to his crotch until you're cupping his bulge. You wouldn't say he's entirely flaccid, there's certainly something there, but the length of him still feels pliable beneath your hand as you stroke over the front of his costume.
"I was thinking... Flopsy," you say with a squeeze of your palm against his cock, biting back a laugh when you hear him hiss a breath of night air through his teeth.
"Real funny."
"What? If you're committed to the bit, I can be too," and before he can protest you slip the fingers of your free hand between the fastenings on the front of his suit. You can feel his skin underneath, hot and sticky, trapped beneath the synthetic fabric of the bunny costume. At the very least, he's topless under there, and eager to find out more, you quickly yank at the front, grinning devilishly at Joel as the fabric pops open slightly.
"You really wanna be gettin' into this out here?"
"You scared, Flopsy?" you say, with another squeeze to his now much harder cock. "That side is up for sale, and Janet is out of town until Tuesday. No one's seeing anything. Unless you're scared someone might hear something... but I guess you'll just have to keep quiet."
"F- you're gonna be the death of me, darlin'," he mutters, pulling at his pink tie so it hangs loosely around his neck, giving him better movement to look down at your hand where it strokes his cock over the soft plush of the rabbit costume.
You tug again at the suit and with a rapid pop pop pop, the remaining fastenings hiding his chest from you pull open, revealing him to you and... he's a mess. From the neck down he's covered in streaks of paint, multicolored blooms splattered across him, dusting his ribs like a rainbow of bruises.
"Kid had some powder paint stuff - y'know that festival of color thing? Well, kid had some left after a party with a friend from school... had a little fight in the yard earlier before I dropped her back with her mom for the week," he explains quickly, rubbing a hand nervously against his chest and smearing the splattered rainbow there. You make a mental note, adding has a kid to the very short list of confirmed facts you know about Joel. It's not exactly a surprise revelation, all things considered - the costumes had to come from somewhere, and most grown men don't just have fairy wings and toy bows and arrows lying around.
"Well, Flopsy, you make a mighty fine canvas, but I think I might need a hand with this."
The egg you'd been turning in your hand is deposited back into his grasp just as you tug him forward giving him a peck on the chin as you look at him expectantly. Joel knows he shouldn't pull you toward him and kiss you out here, he thinks he knows that the expectant look is nothing to do with kissing him and everything to do with the egg in his hand, but he does anyway. Slotting his mouth against yours, he pulls you into his chest, the sweat of his skin transfering blotches of paint from his chest to your old shirt. But you don't care, holding yourself tighter to him, pushing your fingers underneath his hood to card them through his hair. Joel groans into your mouth when your fingertips rub at his scalp. You're in half a mind to call him such a good bunny but the air, and the thought, is knocked out of you the next second when he presses a hand against your ass, pulling you further into him so he can grind his hardened length against your lower belly.
It's been far too long since someone held you against them like this, and far too long since Joel had had someone like you in his arms. As he kisses and kisses you, you're starting to feel more and more insane, and maybe you are - maybe accepting this man into your home with such regularity is the mark of insanity, some kind of as-of-yet undiscovered syndrome that's going to be named after you.
Eventually, you muster the strength to pull away, slapping a hand gently to his chest and nodding down to the egg gripped in his fist. You're eager to see it in action, even if you still can't quite picture what it is.
"C'mon, open it for me. Gotta properly thank the Easter Bunny for bringing me Easter eggs."
Joel slips the wrapper of the egg, something you never could've figured out on your own without decent lighting to guide your way, and presses a thumb into the side of it, popping the top off the egg in one smooth movement.
Before he can hand it to you, you slip down to your knees, bare shins resting against the cool, damp grass. It's a beautiful clear night, not trace of the moon in sight just yet, but the glimmer of stars sparkling relentlessly overhead regardless. You hadn't noticed how hot you'd gotten, but being around Joel always seemed to do this to you. Your cheeks felt hot, your heart beat faster, and your head felt slightly dizzy - the result of it emptying itself of all thoughts except the ones that made you make questionable decisions it seemed. Of course, this time the heat wasn't just from proximity, but from that damned fabric of his costume, the synthetic fibers making you feel sweaty as you held onto him. The grass beneath you is a welcome relief against your warm skin, sending the fine hairs on your body prickling at the sensation.
"This how you say thank you to everyone? On your knees?"
"It's how I say thank you to giant bunnies, Joel," you quip back, pressing a kiss to the softness of his belly. You litter a string of kisses down the trail of hair until you reach the boundary of the bunny suit. Whether he's commando or you have another layer to get through, you don't yet know, but you waste no time finding out. With the hook of your finger and a final swift pull, the last fastenings bursts open, revealing Joel's heavy length straining against the front of his boxers. Where his tip tents the fabric, a darker patch blooms, turning the gray practically black with precum.
In your dreams, and there had been many of them, it didn't go like this. Dream you rarely went three rounds with themselves before Joel popped up to come fuck her brains out. Dream you was clever. And, as good as your solo session this evening was, you can't help but have a little regret for ruining yourself before the surprise main event. It was like eating a big meal right before someone suggested getting pizza. You could (and damn well would) eat pizza, but you couldn't enjoy it the same way. Pizza or Joel, you were going to savor it as best you could.
"Such a tease, Flopsy," you murmur as you kiss across his covered cock, nuzzling your face into it and watching in glee as his hand grips the opened egg that little bit tighter. Your fingers are pulling again, this time tugging down at his waistband. Joel is in half a mind to rid the egg of its shell and use the damn thing as a stress ball. It had been too long since last time, and since he last came two fucking days ago, to be seeing you on your knees for him in that flimsy t-shirt. It felt like a gift from the heavens and divine retribution wrapped up in one you shaped package.
As you pull his cock from the confines of his boxers, feeling the deep pulse of the blood in his veins as you wrap your fingers around him, you can't believe your luck at getting to see it in the flesh again. As brilliantly as your mind can concoct the image of it, the reality of it is so much better than any fantasy. Before you let yourself get lost in it, you reach for Joel's hand, grabbing the egg back from him and watching the top fall to the ground and roll across your lawn.
"It stretches. Goes over and you just - uh - stroke with it I guess."
The inside is far from what you expected. You almost find it gross, the translucent white interior far squishier than you expected that it'd be bordering on slimey if it was wet too. Joel laughs down at you, seeing your face as you try to work out what the fuck you're holding, pulling it free from the rest of the shell and seeing a hole stuffed with a plastic tube. You can see what he means now, and you let a soft oh fall from your lips as you tug the tube filled with a sachet of lube from the middle of the toy. You feel inside, running your fingers over soft ridges, and you can only imagine how nice it must feel sliding wetly up and down a cock and, not for the first time in your life, you wish you could experience it yourself. But, the next best thing is right in front of you, and that'll have to do.
"These feel good?" you ask, his eyes turning glassy as you examine the inside of the stroker while your hand still tugs slowly up and down his cock.
Joel sighs deeply, nodding down at you, the obscene bunny ears still flopping on his head with each movement. "S'good. Nothin' like the real deal but, yeah. Feel nice."
Gripping Joel's cock in your fist, you begin to stroke gently up and down, sliding his foreskin back and forth over his cock until he's steely hard beneath your palm. The solar lights are starting to dim, their charge from the day already running out, but you can still see the dusky red tip, and the blue of the vein that runs down his shaft. You squish the toy in your other hand, the temptation to taste too strong to just leave all the fun to the squishy silicone. So, you press a delicate kiss right to the tip.
"Oh fuck," Joel hisses.
"Missed it," you confess on your knees with another kiss.
"Yeah? Well, s'all yours." Mine.
"Really? Your bunny wife not going to chase me out of my own yard?"
"Know damn well I ain't got a wife, I ain't the cheatin' kind, darlin', don't you worry."
And that admission alone sends your aching cunt throbbing between your legs, wishing even more desperately now that you weren't completely wrecked and oversensitive from your ill-timed playtime upstairs.
"Good," is all you say before taking his head in your mouth with a swirl of your tongue, a satisfied moan vibrating against his tip as you taste him properly for the first time in 4 months. "I've been thinking about doing this."
"Yeah? Been thinking about sucking my cock?"
"Mhm."
"Shit."
A simple continuous swirl of your tongue and small bob of your head was apparently enough to have him gripping his hands into tight fists, clearly fighting some internal demons to keep himself from coming so soon. Your mind absolutely fizzes with it, that this man wants you, likes what you do to him so much that you can have such an affect on him. And when you suck lightly, his head tips back so far the hood slides back off his head. All you can see is the underside of his jaw from where you look up from your knees, and when looks back down at you with heavy eyes, he looks the most normal you've ever seen him. He's not Santa, nor Cupid, and the costume that had rendered him Bunny Joel just a second ago instead drapes around him like nothing more than a soft, white coat.
"Thought about you tasting you," you mutter between mouthing at his cock, slicking his entire length with your saliva. "Having you come in my mouth. On my face."
Joel groans again, much louder this time and you can't help but laugh, mouth pressed to his balls, at his feeble attempt at silence. You press the tip of your finger, egg still clutched in your fist, to his dribbling slit, and drag a tooth grazing kiss across his sensitive ball skin as you silence him with a whisper.
"Shh, Flopsy. You don't want us to get caught."
"Fuckin' Flopsy, I should -"
But you don't hear what he should do, because you engulf his tip with your mouth once again and Joel finds himself speechless as you immediately slide your lips further down his slicked length with ease. You work him in your mouth, sucking him as you move up and down. He can't stop moaning, he doesn't even try. He should, he thinks. You deserve better than getting caught in your backyard doing something like this, but all he can think about each time you move your tongue just like that is how fucking good your mouth feels.
He feels like he's going to come. Your hand is massaging gently over his balls, your mouth working his cock to a near frenzy, and he is absolutely, one hundred percent sure he's going to come. You know he's almost there. If the groaning wasn't enough, the tightening in his balls and the twitching of his cock were a clear sign he was about to blow.
Then you stop.
Just like that, your mouth is gone. Your hands too. And he's having to force himself to look down at you where you stare in awe at the stroker in your hands, glistening with lube you'd poured into it as he bit his lip and fought off coming, untouched, into the breeze.
You want to use it on him, to listen to him groan as you stroke him with the soft silicone, and watch his every move as you work him over the edge. And his cock, as if calling to you like some kind of siren of the sea, beckons you in, accepting an offering of one last kiss before you raise the stroker.
"It's so stretchy," you gasp, as you slide the toy over the tip of Joel's cock. You can pull it almost all the way down the length of him. You make a few experimental twists and jerks, before settling into a slow rhythm, teasing him just as you'd teased yourself and dragged out your own orgasm upstairs.
It's interesting. Slipperier than your own hand, easier than your own mouth, but not quite the same as either. You can't feel him like this, and you certainly can't taste him.
"Do you like it?" you ask, and Joel doesn't quite know what to answer. He does like it - he likes having your hands on him any way he can get it, but he can't feel you in the same way like this. And it's definitely not as good as your mouth, or any other hole of yours he's fucked.
There's just enough light to see his face give a noncommittal twitch and you're peeling the toy off of him, sucking his tip back into your mouth quickly, moaning as the taste of him hits your tongue.
"Good, because I prefer it like this too."
"Fuck, yeah."
Now though, you have a lubed up, saggy egg in your hand and nowhere to put it. Until an absolutely inspired idea hits you square in the face and you're grinning with Joel's cock in your mouth.
He barely sees the fiendish look in your eye, just notices as you pull off him again, and he could scream. Then, something smooth and cold coats his balls. Your fingers are cradling him delicately, thumb and forefinger stretching open the toy until with a gentle wiggle, his balls are encased in the squishy silicone. And holy fuck, is it like nothing he's ever felt.
"Don't think that's how you use it, darlin'. But, shit, it's good," he gasps as you gently massage his balls through the toy. It's like having a soft cool mouth encasing his entire ballsack, while your actual mouth kisses delicately all over his cock. "C'mon now, stop your teasin', gotta come in the pretty fuckin' mouth."
He's back in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence, your mouth sounding wet an obscene as you work him up and up and up all over again. You draw him in deeper, his cock meeting the back of your throat, over and over, his hand coming to cup your face and delicately wipe away a tear from your watering eyes. Fuck, you're wishing more than ever that you could just jump on him, that your cunt wasn't wrecked, or that it didn't matter, that you could go infinite rounds and still want to be touched again and again. But that wasn't you. You had a limit and, even though you'd reached it, the want in you didn't go away and neither did the slick feeling between your legs or the deep throb of your pulse beating away in your clit.
Joel's fingers grip tighter on the side of your face, a soft thrust of his hips meeting every movement of your head. Catching his eye almost kills you then and there with his cock wedged at the back of your throat. He looks as wrecked as you feel, dark eyes shining down like black holes from space now that the light from your solar lamps has all but fucked off. The paint and rabbit ears almost fade away into the background as you hold yourself down on his cock, making yourself whine around him. You're starting to think if you sucked his cock for long enough you could make yourself come totally untouched, but you don't want to think about it. You can't.
He takes over then. Each slip of your lips down his cock met with a gentle hold, until you both do it all over again. It's easier to hold for longer each time, almost feeling deeper with each slide of his cock across your tongue, the taste of his precum making you salivate as much as having your mouth filled and occupied is.
Then, he presses you down, holding your head as you moan and whine and try desperately to swallow around him, to take more of him as he only seems to get harder.
"Not so Flopsy now, huh?" he asks, releasing you and pushing your head down on his cock once more.
He's fucking into your mouth now, small shallow thrusts hitting the back of your throat, your hand working the toy slickly across his balls as he moans more desperately than you've ever heard him moan before. Despite your teasing and edging, he's the one holding back now, the feel of your mouth on his cock, your nails scratching at his belly, and that damned toy sliding across his balls far too much for him to want to let go of any time soon.
But fuck is he close, and if he's not careful he's going to ruin it for himself by holding back and exploding without warning. He's waited too long for that to happen.
"I'm gonna -"
"Mhm!" you groan around his dick, nodding as much as you can with it in your mouth. You steady your hand against his waist, taking over all movement as he stills the slow gyration of his hips, bobbing your head faster as you suck him down. The swirl and flick of your tongue is positively relentless, and everything feels so wet and warm and fucking perfect that he knows he's a goner.
"Hn-uhhhhh, fuck. Ah, fuck, don't stop, don't stop, fuck, ugh!"
He bursts, salty in your mouth, filling your throat as you swallow around him, massaging and gripping his heavy balls as they twitch in your palm through the thick silicone.
You're only a bit of a mess when you pull off of him. Your lips are swollen and tingly, your hand slippery with lube, but you are totally, utterly content. The slick feeling between your legs is still there, so is the throb, but you're as satisfied as you could possibly be.
Pulling yourself to your feet is another story. Your legs have gone a bit numb from sitting on your knees for so long, and you stumble as you fight to right yourself, Joel catching you just before you tumble into the flowerbed. You laugh in his arms, his mouth pressed to yours as he swallows the sound, consumes it, wills it to make home in his body so he never forgets it.
Joel's fingers work their way under your thin shirt. He'd been looking between your face and your nipples the entire time you were on your knees for him, and he suspects you're entirely naked under there. When his fingers meet your sticky thighs, he thinks he's hit the jackpot, and is ready to return the favor through the haze of his own orgasm, when you stop him.
"I, uh... sorted myself out not too long ago. A few times."
"Damn, if I'd known I woulda come right up and helped you out myself. Thought you were sleepin', house was dark. Jus' playing with this sweet thing all along, huh?"
If he had known, he would have known how much you thought about him as you fucked yourself on your fingers. He would have known how you used the plug he left on your bedside table more than any of the others, crying his name out into the lonely expanse of your bedroom as you came quicker, and harder, than you had any right to. If he had known, he'd know how well and truly fucked you were over a man you still knew practically nothing about.
Of course, you knew some physical things. You knew what he looked like naked, how broad he was and how sweaty he got when he fucked you. You knew what he sounded like groaning into your mouth or laughing at a silly quip you'd thrown at him. You knew what he tasted like, and what you tasted like off of his tongue. But that was where your knowledge of him ended. You didn't know what he did for work, or if he even liked his job. You didn't know his favorite food or color. You didn't know what he sang in the car. You didn't know where he lived or what he drove - you didn't even know his full name, and you knew exactly why.
You were scared. Terrified, actually. Terrified to really get to know him, to break that blissful illusion of the tall, dark stranger who rocked your world on a seasonal basis, only to find you didn't like him at all. Or worse - that he didn't like you.
So, when you walk him through your house, egg disposed of and hands washed, listening to the soft snap of his suit being closed up around his bare body, you desperately try to ignore the longing ache in your chest, stopping any request for him to stay, to take you out for coffee in the morning before it stupidly tumbles out of your mouth. That's not what this is.
Instead, you wordlessly reach for your keys, smiling sweetly to him as if you hadn't just been waging war against yourself inside your head.
"What're you doing," he says, pointing to the keys held in your hand. "Goin' somewhere, or comin' home with me?"
"No, smart ass, this is a key, it locks doors. Just gonna lock up after you leave."
Joel's smile drops from his face. And you don't know why, but it has alarm bells immediately blaring in your head.
"What?" you ask nervously, eyes darting around his face as if you're trying to read his mind as he takes a slow step toward you, a frown slowly pulling his brow down as he pieces some mystery together.
"The door locks when it closes, then you the take the key and lock it again after?"
"... Maybe? Yes?"
"Wait. And you're tellin' me you do that every night."
"Yes, I lock my door every night Joel, what's wrong with that." Obviously your lock was no match for his lock picking skills, but you didn't consider that Joel perhaps didn't know how locks worked at all.
"What's wrong with that is you're unlocking your door every night and leaving it unlocked all night."
Your blood turns cold. You don't know why. You could just not believe him, or test for yourself, but something about his reaction, and his seemingly easy ability to get into your house, tells you that what he says is exactly right. It's your turn for your smile to drop, and you can feel it slip off your face just as your heart starts rapidly hopping in your chest.
"Oh. I - I thought..."
"It ain't that kind of lock, sweetheart. You never checked it after lockin' it?"
"No. No I - My last place, the lock, I had to - oh my god." There's dread now. A sickening cocktail of feelings swirling through your body, turning you red hot and cold over and over as you think of all the things that could've happened, how lucky you were they didn't, after all this time. Damn near a year, and you hadn't figured out how to properly work your own fucking door.
"How d'you think I been gettin' in? Didn't exactly climb down the chimney or fly in through the window the last two times. Maybe shouldn'ta done it that first time, but your tree was driving me mad, seein' it bare like that every time I drove past. You weren't in and the door was open, was only gonna be quick and then..."
You're not listening. Your heart has just stopped like it's been hurtled into a brick wall at 100mph. "Wait, you drive past my house?"
"Where else am I gonna fuckin' drive?!"
A thousand million volts straight to your chest, and your heart is beating again, racing, your voice raising with it, brandishing the pointy end of your key at him like it could save you now. "Have you been stalking me?"
"What? No! I live down the fuckin' street, I drive by to get to my house, I thought you knew that."
"Down the street?"
"Yes. I'm hardly gonna come from outta town just to fix your lights and your sink and fuck off again. I was just... bein' neighborly, I guess."
"You've been in my house fixing my shit without me here?"
It's just revelation after revelation. You can't believe it. You can't believe yourself for one, but you can't believe him either. Only you can. You very much believe him, and you hate that you do and you hate that, deep down, you know he's right and you're exactly the kind of idiot he's undoubtedly thinking you are.
"You ain't fuckin' noticed?! You had a light out in here, your kitchen faucet was drippin', your railin' in your hall closet was bust... you didn't notice anythin'? Are you even fuckin' in that pretty head o' yours?"
Suddenly you're feeling very stupid. The door is one thing, the minor home repairs another, but you'd been under the impression you were both on the same page this entire time. That it was some silly game you played, two strangers who had next to no clue about each other. All this time he knew who you were, but you were too fucking preoccupied and distracted and stupid to see that he was right there.
The heat in your checks crackles in your ears, misting over your eyes and making your entire body feel fuzzy. That fight or flight you'd been wondering about for the last few months has suddenly decided to make an appearance, settling on both as you fight back tears with a quivering lip.
"Get out." It's silent fury, building white hot as the seconds tick by with him standing, staring at you like you're the one dressed as a giant rabbit and not him.
"What? Darlin', c'mon, it's okay -"
"Get. Out." You wrench the door open, pushing him and his stupid fucking bunny costume out, shoving the basket of eggs into his arms once he crosses the doorway.
"Bye." You slam the door, the stupid fucking self locking door, and slide down it, head in your hands. You have never felt so fucking stupid.
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421 notes · View notes
imavshi · 3 years
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for putting my big bawls in yo jawls
youre cutting it close watch yourself
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covetyou · 2 months
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stupid cupid
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pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected P in V, a few ass slaps, sex toys (butt plug and a dp dildo), anal play, anal sex (with a dildo), double penetration, creampie, vague fluff and emerging feelings (gross), the wings stay ON. word count: 5.2k summary: Joel makes a return to your home, this time with another gift to give. Will you be his Valentine?
A/N: he's here. he's back. baubles joel, big bawl joel, the holiday king himself. and yes, yet again something that probably shouldn't be a series is becoming a loose-fit series because I just can't quit.
I guess you can all be my Valentine's if you'd like and we can smooch and hold hands and stuff, idk (I love you 💛) gorgeous V day divider by @saradika-graphics
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You didn't expect to scream the moment you entered your bedroom after a long day at work.
Of course, you had wanted to scream all day. First, when you spent the morning fighting with a piece of software that just did not want to work. Then, when you watched your colleagues trickle out of the building well before 5pm, all on their way to romantic dates, while you were stuck in your seat making up for your - and their - lost time this morning. And when you finally stumbled from the building at 8pm, only to sit in traffic for another fucking hour? You may just have let a furious squeal escape your throat as you gripped the steering wheel.
As you finally pulled into your driveway, the only things on your mind were a hot shower and takeout food.
The first part had gone without a hitch. Mostly.
Stripping off your work clothes before you'd even got to the bathroom, you hadn't noticed a single thing different about your home. As you tossed your clothes into the hamper, nothing was amiss. Stepping under the hot stream of water, you felt totally at peace for the first time that day. There was a kind of serenity to be found in your own bathroom that didn't exist anywhere else. No, nothing was unusual at all.
And then you'd loosely wrapped a towel around you, not bothering to dry yourself, and crossed the short distance across the hall to your bedroom. You weren't to know you never closed the door this morning when you left - that was 14 hours ago, afterall. Sunset had long since been and gone, so how were you to see anything, or anyone, where it shouldn't be until you sleepily flicked the light on after closing the door behind you.
So, naturally, when your brain finally registered DANGER - INTRUDER you screamed, almost dropping your towel in the process.
And that's where you still are, locked to the spot, fight or flight truly fucking off from your mind entirely, as you stare straight ahead.
There's a man on your bed. A very familiar man. His hulking figure splayed across it like some kind of fucking renaissance painting, naked as the day he was born, except for the fairy wings strapped to his back with elastic and... is that a bow and arrow? And a pacifier?
"Santa Joel?"
Joel rolls his eyes, pulling the pacifier from his mouth with a pop.
"I ain't Santa. Does this look like Santa to you?" he says, with a sweeping broad gesture down his body. He decidedly does not look like Santa. You're not sure what he looks like, and you're not sure you care when you can't help but notice he's at half mast already. Dragging your eyes from his crotch, you look at his face, somehow sweet and angelic even with his dick out.
"Okay, well... what are you?"
Looking at you in disbelief, he slaps the pacifier down onto the bed before swinging his legs over the edge to sit upright. Only, now you're not so sure it's a pacifier. It looks like a - but why was he sucking on it?
"Ain't it Valentine's Day? I'm Cupid, stupid."
"Cupid Joel?"
"Cupid Joel. It really that difficult to work out?" With a lopsided grin he picks up the bow, miming shooting you, before resting his elbows on his knees. The soft trickle of water down your body feels more and more like you're melting by the second. A practical stranger like Joel shouldn't have been able to do this to you the first time, but the fact he was here again, charming and suave, despite the nudity and criminal activity, told you all you needed to know. You were painfully and woefully attracted to him and you would do just about anything to have a night with him again.
"Well, Cupid Joel, you broke into my house. Again."
He ignores you, lounging back on your bed and spreading his knees wide, picking up the - yep, that's definitely a butt plug - again and sucking it into his mouth. Removing it with a flourish, he looks you up and down, a question in his eyes before looking to his own cock, now much harder than it was a moment ago.
"Different guy, you said that was Santa Joel." You can see him holding back a laugh, and you'd be tempted to wipe the smirk from his face if you weren't rooted to the spot. "Anyway, that guy told me he didn't see any pictures when he was here, guessed you didn't have a Valentine. Figure everyone deserves some lovin' on the big day," he says with a shrug and a quirk of his mouth. "So, here I am. Your very own Cupid, if you'll have me, 'course. Don't gotta stay, I can leave if you want me to."
You didn't want him to leave. He'd broken into your house again, and you were exhausted, but seeing him lie there, naked in your bed with the evidence of his little dress up game strewn around him, stirred things in you. If he was willing to give you some lovin' then who were you to turn that down. You're only human, after all, and it is Valentine's Day.
So, you do the only logical thing in that moment and drop your towel without another thought.
"'Atta girl," Joel chuckles patting the bed beside him. "C'mere, got you a present."
Incredible, if slightly strange, sex with a stranger, and he bought you a present? Suddenly the day isn't feeling quite as shit as it was an hour ago, and damp and naked, you approach your bed. You're close enough to him now that you can smell him again, that soft oaky smell throwing you back to the twinkling lights of Christmas Eve. You didn't know any more about him now than you did that night, really. Though, truth be told, you hadn't tried too hard to find him. You had a good time, and the soft lit fantasy of Santa Joel was something you enjoyed exactly as it was. Unveil the man, and you threatened to ruin that fantasy. But a night with Cupid Joel? That could be a new fantasy altogether.
"S'not Christmas any more, don't remember ever having to sit on Cupid's knee to get a Valentine," you murmur, sitting back on your heels as Joel's large hand slides up your thigh. You watch as it moves from your knee to your hip and back again, fingers gently teasing your sensitive inner thigh on the way down. The only hands that had touched you since Christmas were your own, though you had spent night after night imagining his all over you. You were starting to think you'd fallen asleep at the wheel and this was all some wonderful stress dream.
But then he presses a soft kiss to your knee, the scratch of his facial hair rubbing just enough to let you know this is all very, very real and you'd very much like more of it.
"Ain't gonna make you sit on my knee for it. Might want you to sit on somethin' else though."
You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Real smooth, Cupid."
And then he's smiling up at you as he leans forward to kiss your thigh, then your belly, pushing you back with one large hand until you're laying beneath him, spread bare and open as he makes his way back down to your thighs.
It's so easy to get lost in it. The soft scratch of the scruff on his chin, rough fingertips moving gently across your thighs, soft lips pressing and sucking delicately on you, catching the last specks of water from your skin with each pass of his mouth. Your eyes drift closed just as his breath ghosts across your mound, another soft kiss soon following, and another, and another.
Until, blissfully, his soft mouth connects with your clit, tongue peaking out to swipe across the sensitive bud. It had been so long since anyone had gone down on you, long before you made the move to Texas last year, you'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Stuttering for a while, you're about to feebly mumble how good it feels, but all thoughts grind to a halt when he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning before softly releasing. You had never had a man moan eating your cunt before, and now here you were, fairly certain angels were real and you'd gone to heaven, taken there by Cupid Joel and his wings.
"You always this late home, or did you have a date that went to shit?" he mumbles around your clit. It's a small sneaky way that he asks, wanting clarification on something he was almost certain of but you had yet to confirm. There were no pictures in your house, but that didn't mean there wasn't anyone in the picture.
Shaking your head, you gasp out a response. "Work - work went to shit. Ohh."
"Bad day?"
"Yeah, it - fuck, Joel."
It's then that you take your first opportunity to look down and see him between your legs. His hair looks even fluffier, his hands pushing your thighs open while his fingers pull you apart at the seams. His eyes closed, lashes fanned against his cheek, tongue softly lapping against your center, gusts of his hot breath billowing against your mound. He's beautiful.
And he's still in the fucking fairy wings.
A laugh primes itself, ready to explode out of you, but another firm lick sends you reeling, head hitting the mattress with a thud. Whatever he's doing to you, whatever this fucking day has done to you, you're going to come, and fast.
"Cu-Cupid Joel. Don't fucking stop."
Joel stops mid-lick, earning a frustrated moan from you, eyes widening from where he looks up between your thighs. "Already?" he asks in disbelief, noticing how quickly your legs and cunt have started to twitch.
"Stupid fucking cupid, don't stop, please."
His mouth finds your clit again and he's devouring you, lapping quickly against your cunt as your squirm into him, hips rocking your cunt against his tongue. Another day you'll wonder if it was his tongue or your movement that got you there, but right now all you know is the thick syrupy feeling in your veins as an orgasm quickly rockets through you, a strangled moan leaving your throat as you fist your sheets in your hands. You've muffled him, your thighs clamping around his head as he pushes further forward, tongue buried in your folds until you can't take it any more and you're desperately pulling away from him.
When you release your grip on his head, he gasps, cursing into the plushness of your thighs. Sitting up, he looks down at you, the bedroom light illuminating him from behind, making the wings glow on his back like your very own heavenly creature.
"Wanna see your present now?"
The fog in your head has barely cleared, your ears still fuzzy as you take in his words. Somehow a tongue on your pussy wasn't your Valentine's gift from Cupid?
"Wha - that wasn't it?"
"Nope."
"Is that it," you say, letting a thread of hope feed into your voice while you nod to where his cock hangs heavy between his legs.
"Not exactly, but you can have that too if you want it, darlin'."
You don't know what you expect, but Joel reaches over and picks the butt plug from where he'd discarded it on your bed earlier, and holds it out to you.
"Don't know if you're into it but," he holds the plug out to you, base first. The pink glass looks so delicate in his fingers, and it takes a twist of his hand for you to see it, but the heart shaped base of the plug soon becomes clear to you, brain foggy as it is, and you laugh, the sound bubbling out of your lips as your head tips back, laughing so hard you can feel your tits shake.
"You had that in your mouth."
Joel shrugs. "Better now than after it's been in your ass."
"Why're you so sure it's goin' into my ass?"
Got him, flashes through your mind when you watch his face drop. You don't let him suffer for long.
"I'm fucking with you. You're tellin' me you broke into my house but didn't go through my shit? I got three in the drawer over there."
"Three?!" he says in faux shock, rolling you over onto your front and grabbing at your ass cheeks. He pulls them apart, the cool glass in his hand pushing into your cheek as he tugs you open.
You shriek, swatting behind you as you laugh again. "Joel- what the fuck are you doing!?"
"Checkin' where you keep these three assholes."
"I'm lookin' at one asshole right now."
Now it's his turn to laugh, a deep rich sound that has your toes curling and your pulse sky rocketing, pulling you out of it with a gasp when he slaps a hand down on your ass only to watch it ripple with the impact.
"So, do you want it in?"
"Mhm, I have lube in the bedside table."
A rummage later, you wait, kicking your feet in the air, resting your chin in the cup of your palm. When he turns again, he sees you waving your ass from side to side, ready for him. Slick is coating your pussy, your upper thighs glossy with it too.
"That a present all for me?"
Pulling your cheeks apart again, he kisses each one, lightly nipping on the soft flesh as he does. And then, without much warning, he burries his tongue between your spread legs, licking a thick stripe from your clit to your asshole, groaning with every lick over your tight ring. Fisting the sheets, you press your face into the mattress. If he's going to keep doing this before he even fucks you, you're going to come again and fall asleep before he can get inside you.
"I thought this was a present for me, you're acting mighty excited back there."
"It is. Never said I wouldn't get anythin' outta it though."
A cool trickle of lube drizzles into your crack, quickly spread by Joel's large finger. He teases for a moment, circling your tight hole a little before gently pushing in.
"Fuck."
Moaning in agreement, you almost speak to agree, but then his finger is gently fucking your asshole and all words fail you. Coming just a moment ago did nothing to stop the need you had for this man, the feeling in your core growing tenfold as each moment passed.
"Fuck, Joel, put it in my ass and fuck me already."
The strangled noise from behind you startles you, and you look back for a second to see Joel's eyes pinched together and his head thrown back as his hand grips tightly around the base of his cock, wings falling forward over his shoulders as he desperately tries to relax himself.
"You can't say shit like that to me, darlin'."
"Then stick it in me, stupid."
Fingers slick with lube, he strokes the plug, before sliding the cold tip across your hole.
"Wanted go slow. Wanna watch you take it."
With a soft push, he presses the tip forward, watching as your hole accepts the cold tip with ease. This was always something you loved, even playing with your plugs by yourself when the feeling took you. It had been too long since anyone else had played with your ass, and you can't say you were too mad about Joel being the first to touch you there in so long.
The stretch is soft, and soon the bulb of the head pushes past your tight ring, making Joel hiss behind you as he watches you take it. He fucks you with it once, then twice, before pushing firmly, letting your ass take the entire length of the plug. Twisting it, he sits the heart upright, before leaning forward to kiss it. It's not often you get a man's face buried in your ass so, figuring it's karmic justice for the species, you push back into him, holding back a laugh when a small oomph escapes his lips when your ass collides with his face.
"Gonna tell Santa Joel you did that. No nice list for you."
"Then if I'm already on the naughty list, fuck me already. You promised me lovin'."
Wiggling your ass, you arch your back to expose your pussy to him even more. He hasn't so much as put a finger in you yet, and part of you is glad for it. You want to feel his cock pull you apart as it fills you, pushing past the ridge of the plug lodged in your ass. You want to feel stretched and full and ruined.
Joel seems to be on the same page, shuffling forward, dick in hand, sliding the tip through your slick folds. Catching on your entrance, he runs the tip of his dick across the plug where it's nestled inside you before pushing down, slipping into your empty hole.
And fuck is it tight. If it feels this good for you, the half-filled and stretched wide feeling of his cock in one hole and the plug in the other, you wonder how it must feel on his dick. You're wet, dripping really, soaking his cock and letting him in with ease, but there's the solid lump of the plug dragging along the top side of his cock as he pushes in.
Deciding he's going too fucking slow, too tentative when all you want is to be filled, you push back. In one swift rock you take him to the root, gasping and hitting the bed with your fists as he bottoms out, his own fingers digging into you flesh harshly.
"Sh-fuck, fuck."
Stopping, you almost pull away, worried you might have hurt him, but his grip stops you. Before you can turn or question him, he's pulling back, slamming in hard again, groaning when you take him completely.
If Santa Joel destroyed you, Cupid Joel is going to wreck you entirely. And you welcome it.
He's fucking you steadily in no time, relishing in the sound of your moans getting higher and higher in pitch with each pound.
Your knees buckle first, planting you face first in your sheets. Joel tries to pull you up, but his own knees are slipping, dragged down by the grip of your cunt on his cock. Giving in, he crowds over you, pumping deep into you despite the tangle of limbs you've became in the last few seconds. Somewhere in the scuffle you've kicked the bow and arrow, listening as they clatter to the floor just as tangled as the two of you are.
He's warm, and sweaty, and heavy above you, holding just enough of his weight on his elbows to let you breathe. Making a few more shallow thrusts, he suddenly stills, nose breathing deep into your hair.
"Shit. Can't come yet. I got one more surprise for you," he pants into your ear, offering you a soft kiss to your shoulder before his weight shifts.
You want to grab him and hold him to you, beg him to come in you already, but he has other ideas and he's pulling out before you can grab him. "Ugh."
"Gimme a sec," he grunts from behind you. "Can't - hmfph - get it over - god damn it - my balls. There. Got it. Snug but, damn, look at that."
Looking behind you, you watch as he sways from side to side, looking down where his cock bobs between his legs. He's mesmerized, and soon so are you.
He's strapped another cock just below his own, the tapered black dildo just shorter than he is. It sits flush to his full balls, anchored to them by a thick ring, another wrapped around his length. Even with the sounds of his struggle, you're amazed he got it on so quickly.
"Don't have to take both but," and he shrugs - fucking shrugs all coy and uncertain as if he hasn't reached into the depths of your brain and pulled out your most desperate fantasy of taking two cocks at once.
"Didn't wanna spook you, but given you like gettin' your asshole played with," he says with a press to the plug still sat in your ass. "Worth finding out if you're into ass fuckin' too."
You were. Fuck yes, you were. You had your own collection of toys and plugs for a reason, but it had been a criminally long time since anyone had really fucked you there. Other than Joel, it had been a criminally long time since anyone had fucked you anywhere.
"If I say yes, what else are you gonna pull out from back there? You got a bag of tricks around here somewhere."
Joel gives you a toothy grin, stroking his hand over his slicked cock before sliding two fingers straight into you. "Tool bag is downstairs, but ain't got anythin' in there I'd like to put in here darlin', don't worry."
Fingers slipping slick and wet inside you, pressing firmly upward with help of the plug still lodged in your ass, you're rendered speechless again. Reaching out for him you hold his hand in place, fucking yourself on his fingers for a moment before reaching further toward him.
Joel gasps when your hand gently cups around his balls, the thick rings of the toy strapped around them making them seem even fuller with the press of the dildo into them. You roll reach one beneath your fingers, catching the dark look in his eyes.
"You like 'em, huh? Know you liked havin' 'em in here."
"Fuck. Thought about it so much since. Dreamed of you coming back to fuck me with them again."
"Tsk, ain't disappointing you, am I?"
"Joel, you have two cocks and you're threatening me with a good time. You couldn't disappoint me right now even if you tried. And you broke into my house. Again. Now, if you don't fuck my ass with either of the cocks you have there soon I'm going to do it myself," you say, fingers stilling on his balls, before you think again and add, "Please."
"Since you asked so nicely, sweetheart. C'mon now, lemme take this out. Can put it back in this needy hole after. That's it."
It's surreal, looking up at him as he gently tugs the plug out of your ass, offering you sweet murmurs of encouragement. You know nothing about him, save for his first name and penchant for dress up games. And yet, the desire you have for him is steadily creeping upward as time ticks on. Truthfully, you didn't even really remember what he looked like when you thought about him, fingers toying with your clit as you came to memories of Christmas eve. Low light and mind melting orgasms will do that to you. All you knew was his voice and the soft filthy way he fucked you. Now, getting a proper look at him without the shield of twinkling lights and that red jacket, you can truly appreciate him. He's fit, though you suspect he's never stepped foot in a gym a day in his life. He's soft too, in the way that strong sturdy things are soft. You want nothing more than to pull him into you, to press his softness against your own as he ruts into your holes, but that's decidedly not what this is. Whatever this is, between the mild crime and fucking, it isn't that sort of soft sweet thing.
You don't know how he's going to do it, which cock is going to take which hole, but you decide you don't care when he's leaning over you to press a soft kiss to your lips. When your legs wrap around him of their own accord it's all but decided, and he takes his cock in hand - his real one - and lines up with your dripping slit, pushing in slightly before fumbling below for the other. It takes a moment - the lubed up dildo slipping from his grasp as he huffs and tries, but fails, to slot it against you. Briefly tangling your fingers with his, you take over, positioning the toy at your ass, feeling it slip in a little already as he grinds his hips forward, desperate to be balls deep in you again. With both cocks poised and ready you moan, quivering and clamping your eyes shut at merely the thought of being fucked in both holes at once.
With one more press forward, Joel slides in, the glide of lube easing the dildo into your as as his cock reclaims it's place inside your pussy.
And fuck, you have never been so full, and Joel has never fucked something so damn tight. The space his cock would normally make is taken up by the dildo, fighting for position inside of you as he rocks gently, sliding in and out of you with gradually deeper movements. The deeper he presses, the more desperate your moans become, and you catch the hesitation in his face before he can move.
"Don't you fuckin' dare stop."
This time he doesn't, wordlessly pushing into you and filling both your holes to the brim as sweat trickles down his face. You want to lick it off him, to sink your nails into his back, wings be damned, to lick the salt from his skin and bite down into the the firm flesh at his neck. But the only thing you can do before he's fucking you in earnest is grab hold, careful to avoid snapping the elastic of his wings against his shoulders as he pounds forward. There's no candlelight and rose petals here, just the raw sound of skin slapping against skin, grunts heaving into the air as you pull yourselves into each other.
"Tell me how it feels," you rasp into his ear, watching the flap of wings over his shoulder. "Tell me how it feels fucking me with both of your cocks."
"Oh, shit, it's good. So good, baby. Someone's definitely goin' on the naughty list next Christmas. You likin' this? You likin' being fucking in the ass and pussy?"
A frantic nod is all you can manage as he starts hitting a spot in you you didn't know existed, building pressure in your cunt like never before.
"I know. You're just so full, ain't you. Take two dicks so well. Pulling me in so good."
Hoisting your legs over Joel hips, you grip around him, a loud moan bursting out of your chest as he fucks back down, deeper now at the new angle. This is it. This is how you die, you're sure of it.
"How close - How close are you. I think I'm gonna - fuck - die -AH!"
He stops grunting for a moment to force out a breathless "Am I hurtin'?"
It only takes one look at you for Joel to realize he's not hurting you at all. There you are, fucked all the way to oblivion and back, a chorus of angels screaming in your ears with each snap of his hips. You're going to come again, clit untouched and holes filled, a way you've never managed to before. You don't even know how it's happening, all you know is that suddenly your soul feels like it's being pulled straight from your bones, through the middle of you and out through your cunt and asshole at the hands of Cupid Joel himself. And then you're gushing, mind and pussy totally detached as you come, soaking his cock and your sheets.
"Yeah that's it," he grunts, his weight surrounding you once more as he pushes into your spasming holes over and over, chasing his own release. If it wasn't for the damn tight rings around his cock and balls he would've come already, but your moans in his ear and your fingers gripping his shoulders spur him forward.
"Joel."
"Gonna come. Gonna fuckin' - uh - come in your tight fuckin' pussy."
"Yes, yes, come in me, please, I can't, I'm gonna -"
Joel stiffens, hips stuttering as he gives you a few hard, shallow thrusts, before he explodes inside you, groaning so loud it makes your ears ring and cunt make one last attempt to clench around him. As much as you soaked him, he's just filled your cunt, cum pushing deep inside you with each spurt, locked in place by the fullness of the two cocks inside you. You collapse back, your ears still ringing and your limbs feeling soft and heavy.
This time you're certain black out for a moment.
But when you peel open your eyes, Cupid Joel is above you again, halo'd by the bright yellow light on your bedroom ceiling. His hair is damp, wet even, from sweat, a bead trickling down his neck and glittering in the light. And in his eyes there's concern, a worried pinch in his brow as he searches your face.
"You passed out -"
"- You're still here."
He rolls his eyes. "Way to make a guy feel special, sweetheart," he says with a cocky smile. "Just checkin' on you, but I can get goin' as long as you're okay."
You nood, the movement feeling as slurred as your speech. "You left. Last time. Saw you walkin'. Jus' wonderin'."
"Wait... you saw that? Shit, I thought you were asleep."
"No, wasn't 'sleep."
"You gonna sleep now?"
"No," you murmur with a nod, closing your eyes as you feel the last sweep of his hand down your neck, pulling a sheet over your limp form, just for you to mumble one last thing before the soft darkness takes you. "Balls... next time... please."
"You got it, darlin'."
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It's an arduous journey to the bathroom when you wake up in the dead of night, remnants of cum trickling down your legs and thighs sticking together. Quickly cleaning yourself up, you check the house for signs of him, already knowing that he's long gone. You wonder how he left this time, whether he kept the wings on, whether he still had a second cock strapped to his own as he escaped into the darkness. For all you know, your cupid could have flown away on glittered fairy wings.
And then you're crawling back into bed, takeout long forgotten, any hunger you had satisfied in a different way than you expected. Somehow there's comfort in the wat patch you curl yourself around. Cupid Joel is gone from your house, but there are still traces of him here. The cum on the sheets, the ache between your legs and, as you reach to turn the light off and let darkness take you, the butt plug on your bedside table. Between the Christmas decorations stashed in a box in your closet and this plug, you were slowly amassing pieces of a man you didn't really know - gifts from a stranger that made you feel more at home in this place you'd moved to than anything else had managed to in ten months.
Tracing the outline of the heart with your finger, you stretch and snuggle back down into bed, letting exhaustion take hold and when you dream, you dream of flying.
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covetyou · 5 months
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baubles
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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: ball fucking, ball sucking, balls, wall to wall all ball, BIV (ball in vagina), sex toys (the balldo [link to website] is real and it has haunted my dreams for 6 months - pic in this ask), there's some PIV too I guess. word count: too many and they're all balls 4.4k summary: Santa Joel fucks you with his balls. That's it.
A/N: I am NOT sorry. Not now, not ever. And, yes, I watched the instructional video on how to put it on, purely for Research Purposes. We don't talk about how long I've spent thinking about balls.
Happy Ball-idays, don't say I never got you anythin' nice.
...
Santa Joel-y, slip your ballsack right into me, oh gee.
I've been a fuckin' good girl,
Santa Joel-y, so stuff 'em up my chimney tonight.
...
It was your first Christmas in Texas and your first Christmas in a place that felt unseasonably warm for the time of year. That's what you tell yourself every night as you strip off completely before slinking into bed, at least.
Except, this night is different.
It's Christmas Eve.
And someone is in your house. You're sure of it.
A click of a button and you're on your feet, creeping to your bedroom door to listen out for the intruder. You almost didn't hear it, too preoccupied to be on the lookout for burglars on Christmas Eve.
There's a tell tale rustle, the stomp of feet. Whoever it is, they're not even trying to be quiet. You'd respect the brazenness of it all if someone hadn't broken into your damn house. You toy with calling the cops, maybe a neighbor, but you know it'll be too late by the time anyone gets here to do anything, so you make the stupid decision to head downstairs and confront the intruder alone.
Wrapping your flimsy bath robe around yourself, you grab the nearest makeshift weapon you can find (a broken umbrella you still hadn't thrown away) and click the door open, slinking out into the hallway and down the stairs.
If he hears you before you get down the stairs, he doesn't let on. But there, right in front of your Christmas tree is the unmistakable figure of a man. A big man. He's tall, and broad, and his silhouette is wrapped in something fluffy, making it look like there's a giant teddy bear standing in your living room.
You flick the light on, startling him, making him drop a heavy bag undoubtedly filled with your things onto the floor with a heavy thud.
"Oh, shit."
A single ornament rolls out of the bag and across the floor. You both stand frozen and silent, watching it move until it knocks against your bare toes. Only when it's stopped do you drag your eyes back up to look at the man who broke into your house.
Your umbrella clatters to the floor.
"What the...?"
The man before you is dressed as Santa, hat and all.
Only this man was not as old as you would expect for someone claiming to be Santa Claus. His beard is patchy, the scruff around his chin only speckled with gray. He has lines around his eyes, crinkled divots in his skin from so many years of laughter. The red coat pulled around his form is unbelted, falling open at the middle to reveal a white vest and the soft swell of his belly.
"What the fuck are you doin' in my house?" you yell.
"Shh, quit your fuckin' hollerin'."
He takes a step toward you and you back into the wall, trying to keep your distance from the very Texan man who had broken into your house dressed as Santa on Christmas Eve.
And that's when you see behind him, to the glittering lights of your Christmas tree, and the branches covered in ornaments. Ornaments that did not belong to you. You'd bought the thing on sale at the grocery store just a week ago. When you put it up and plugged it in, grateful for the existence of pre-lit trees, you settled on the fact you wouldn't decorate it this year. Even so, it was beautiful as it was, and you enjoyed the soft glow of the lights in the evenings as you wound down after work. Now, that soft glow was accompanied by the twinkling reflections of the many ornaments hanging on it.
"Did you... did you decorate my tree?"
He looks at you like you're mad, and maybe you are. Maybe you came so hard on your vibrator upstairs that you passed out, and this is all a dream. A very vivid dream where you can smell the warm oaky scent of the man in front of you and feel the heat of him as he crowds you against the wall.
"What else do you think I've been doin'?" he says, as if it should be entirely obvious that he's been here decorating your tree all along.
"I don't know, maybe stealing my shit?"
He, once again, looks at you like you're stupid and gestures to his suit, red and velvety, draped around his body. It looks good on him, and does nothing to help the thick syrupy feeling still coursing through your veins. Having a man like him break into your house felt like one of lifes great injustices, but having him break in when you were mid-jerk off was purely inhumane. Other than point to the door and tell him to get out, there was nothing you could do but gape at him and hope he didn't notice you curl your toes as he looked at you.
He takes a step closer, heavy boot falling with a thud in front of you, and shrugs. "If you don't want it, I'll take it back."
Up this close, the smell of him goes straight to your head, your body seemingly ready and rearing to go at the slightest hint of something masculine in your presence. Your tongue suddenly feels too big and clumsy so, not trusting a single word that would come out of your mouth, you shake your head. You would actually, really, very much like the decorations to stay and the man who put them there.
Texas always felt hot to you, but something about this room was now super heating. You're keenly aware of the stickiness pooling between your thighs, and even more aware of the visible sheen of sweat on your head and the warmth in your cheeks. If he looked closely, he'd even be able to see glistening on your fingers, making you look glitter coated in the twinkle of the Christmas lights. You shift, trying to mask the buzzing in your veins at his eyes as they drag down your body.
You hadn't noticed the silky tie of your robe slowly loosen as you wiggled and fidgeted. You were too warm to notice when the fabric parted, gaping over your chest and giving him a perfect view of your tits. You were too busy staring into his deep brown eyes to notice him raise his hand.
You did, however, feel the moment his finger stroked a slow trail down the swell of your breast, puckering your nipple and making a shudder run through your spine.
"You're all unwrapped, darlin'," he whispers, just as you remember to breathe again. "S'gettin' a bit warm in here, huh?"
He absentmindedly discards his hat as his finger traces down your body, flicking the light back off behind you once his hat hits the floor. You know where he, and this, is heading, and you're not keen to stop it any time soon.
When his fingers stroke across your mound, you gasp. Your vibrator had made you sensitive, but you'd never had chance to finish the job, and now here he was threatening you with a good time. He cups you, completely engulfing your pussy in his broad hand, and slides it between your legs.
By now it's no secret you're already wet, your upper thighs already sticky with it. His fingers slide through with ease, the quirk of his eyebrow visible now his hat has been thrown to the side.
"Here I was thinkin' you were on the nice list. But this little thing right here tells me you're naughty as they come, darlin'. What you been doin' to yourself all alone up there in the dark?"
You're staring at him opened mouthed as he works is thick fingers over you, dragging slick over your already sensitive clit. You'd been moments away from coming when the noise from downstairs pulled you out of it, and now here he was working you back up and quickly.
"It's my house," you stutter. "Can do what I want." And right now you want to collapse into a heap on the floor with his fingers between your legs.
"That you can. You wanna go back up there and finish yourself off?"
Logically, you know your pre-orgasm desperation is clouding your judgement, that you should take him up on his offer to leave and put a stop to this, but there's something too enticing about him. You don't want to stop.
"Or do you maybe want a hand with your... Little problem?"
"Yeah," you're nodding, eyes so heavy now you want them to snap shut, but you can't resist looking at him in the glow of your Christmas lights. Red really suits him, and you swear you can see his cheeks get rosy in the dim lighting.
"S'good. Got some little problems here myself. But, seein' as you're already halfway there, seems only fair to get me to your level before we start anythin', don't you think?"
Biting your lip, you nod, taking a step closer to him. Tentatively, you reach out a hand and caress the front of his pants. They feel velvety soft, and you have no fucking clue how he doesn't look as sweaty as you feel.
"That's right. You feel that?"
You feel something grow beneath your palm. Big, thick, and heavy. You look down in stunned silence, seeing only the odd shadows cast by the Christmas tree lights sparkling over the front of his pants.
"Get on your knees and close your eyes."
You obey, wanting very much to stay on the nice list now that you know exactly what you want for Christmas. His belt jingles as he undoes the buckle, pulling it from his waist and discarding it on top of his bag. He can't resist giving his dick a quick squeeze over the fabric of his pants at the sight of your bare chest heaving in the twinkling light, before unzipping them and letting them fall down to his ankles. The fabric is so loose he can step out of them, easily tugging his booted feet from the legs.
It doesn't go unnoticed that you spend the entire time eyes closed, listening attentively, and gently rocking your hips, discreetly humping the air in a desperate attempt to find any kind of relief.
"Tsk, got an impatient one on our hands."
The same hand he'd been stroking your pussy with wraps around his cock, slowly dragging his sticky fingers up and down his rapidly hardening length. He wishes he'd told you to strip, or left the light on so he could see you more clearly, but something about your skin under the sparkling lights and the shadows cast between your legs is making him harder more quickly than ever. When his dick twitches in his hand at your deep sigh, he finally stops staring and speaks.
"Open your eyes."
You snap them open, eager to see what he has for you, and your eyes immediately turn the size of dinner plates.
His cock gorgeous, and even in the grip of his large hand it looks big. He's long, thick with a slight upward curve and a smattering of salt and pepper hair at the base. You're fairly certain he trims it, keeping it well groomed and flush to his skin, making his cock appear even larger as it juts out infront of him.
But, despite the gloriousness of this mans cock, what you can't get over are his balls. They're heavy, and full, and getting tighter and tighter as his cock hardens under your gaze. You flick your eyes up to his face and he has a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.
"Fuck," you say as you look back down at it, at them, and let out a shaky breath.
His whole body shakes with a laugh, jingling his bells, as you take in his length. Hand never leaving his cock, his gentle strokes become firmer, and he's guiding the tip toward your face a moment later.
"What should I call you?" you ask, realizing you don't even know his name yet, just as his tip touches to your lips. Exhilarating as it was to fuck a man who had broke into your house, you still wanted to know his name, and not even to press charges - you wanted to know what to scream when you came.
"Santa works just fine."
Pulling back, you scoff, "You want me to call you Santa Claus?"
"Fuck no! Do I look like a Claus to you? S'Joel."
"Santa Joel?"
"Fuck yeah darlin', now open up."
You stick out your tongue, waiting for his cock to slide along the spit slicked muscle. He drags his tip across it, letting you lick at his head before you capture his cock in your mouth, sucking it in and flicking your tongue lightly on his frenulum. The salty sweet taste of him makes you crave more, so you draw him further into your mouth, sliding up and down his cock as he stares down at you with an open mouth.
Dragging your hands up his bare thighs, you grab the base of his cock with one, steadying him as you suck. You tickle the other across his balls, looking up at him as he pulls in a sharp breath, before grabbing them and massaging them. His balls feel entirely smooth to the touch, and you have an irresistible urge to put them in your mouth.
Dragging your lips back from his cock, you lick broadly up the length of it again and again until you're dragging your tongue across his ballsack, slowly trailing up his cock to his tip, watching him all the while. Then you kiss his balls, humming in satisfaction as you finally press your lips to the soft skin.
The sight of you on your knees, making out with his balls is sending him stupid, and all he can do is stare down at you with a look of deep concentration on his face. If he's not careful, he's going to blow his load early, coming in your hand before he even gets to fuck you.
He watches you lightly drag your teeth over his delicate ball skin. He swears he sees your eyes flicker with something deserving of the naughty list when you hear his intake of breath, but he's too preoccupied by your tongue lathing across them to take much notice. You take it in turns with them, sucking each ball into your mouth as you slowly pump his cock in your fist, before releasing and working on the other. By the time you've had enough, his cock is dripping, smearing pre-cum over your hand as you jerk him.
Licking the drippy mess off of your hand, you look up at him, savouring the taste of his cum in your mouth.
"Please tell me you want to fuck me," you say, biting down on your swollen lips. You don't know what you'll do if he says no now, you know going back upstairs to your vibrator just won't cut it, even if you now have the fantasy of kissing Santa's balls to get off to.
"You kiddin' me, darlin'? Get up here."
Relief and desperation wash through you, and you climb off your aching knees, letting your robe fall from your arms.
"Couch?" you say, keeping a firm grip on his cock as you stroke up his chest. He pulls you toward him, holding the back of your neck as he kisses you, tasting his cum and balls on your tongue. His lips are impossibly soft, just like his balls, a stark contrast to the scratch of his beard.
Moving to the couch, you bend over, wiggling your bare ass for him. He chuckles, stepping closer to you and marvelling at the lights dancing over your jiggling backside. He shucks off his own coat now, leaving him in just his vest and boots, and hones in on the peek of your pussy from between your legs.
Sliding his length up and down your slit he groans, gripping your hip in his massive hand just as he notches at your entrance.
"Well, shit, that's nice," he says, sliding his tip into you.
You're inclined to agree - it had been a long time since anyone other than yourself had fucked you, and the red hot feeling of his hard cock in you felt better than you remembered. He rocks his hips a little, drenching his cock in you bit by bit until he's fully sheathed inside your eager pussy. The solid beat of your heart throbs through your veins and straight to your core, making you clench around him as he begins to fuck you.
"You're gonna yank my dick clean off if you keep that up."
"Can't help it," you moan, "Feels so good." You let your eyes close, succumbing to the slow, steady, pleasure building in you.
Snapping his hips more firmly, he bottoms out in you over and over, pushing deep inside you with each thrust. You can feel his wet balls slap against you, rhythmically whacking into your clit, but it's not enough. You're so desperate to come you lick your fingers and reach between your legs, swiping your digits over your clit. His balls instead slap against your fingers and you can't resist trying to stroke them again.
The noises you're making are going straight to Joel's dick, and he knows he's going to blow his snowy load way before he's ready if you don't stop, so he pulls away from you. You protest as his cock slides out of you, leaving you empty and still desperate to come.
"Got a present for you, darlin'," he pants from behind you.
"The ornaments?"
"Yeah. Got some real pretty baubles for you, darlin'. You'll like 'em. I promise."
He goes to his bag, long forgotten on the floor, and bends over it. You watch his soft ass and the swing of his dick and balls as he rummages around inside the sack, pulling out two things before standing up. When he doesn't immediately turn back around, clearly playing with his own cock, you start to worry that you're not satisfying him. But then he rounds on you and you see his cock and balls glisten wetly in the twinkling Christmas lights just as he throws a bottle at you. Lube.
Catching him opening another box, you gasp and draw your hand to your chest in mock shock.
"Is that not my present to open?" you say coyly, now trickling lube over your own pussy. You don't need it, but whatever he has in mind clearly calls for it.
"Good things come to those who wait, darlin'."
"I'm still waiting for the coming part."
He shoots you a admonishing look and you raise your hands in surrender, before snaking one back down to keep rubbing at your clit. You're about to go mad if you don't come soon, your clit is so sensitive, a firm nub between your legs now, and your pussy so puffy from so much stimulation. It's a wonder you have any blood left in your brain at all.
The object in the box is revealed, and you can do nothing but gape at it as Santa Joel proudly holds it up with a hand on his hip.
It looks like a torpedo cockring hybrid, and you have no fucking clue what it is.
"Get yourself comfy, gotta strap myself in."
Laying back on your couch - for all its flaws, an armless couch certainly had its benefits - you spread your legs and watch him with curiousity. You still can't work out what it is.
"What is -"
And then he stretches the silicone underneath his balls, pushing each ball into the cage with his thumbs before letting go. Oh.
Oh. "Oh."
You sit in stunned silence. He's turned his balls into a dick or, more accurately, a dildo. With the length of it and the girth of his balls, you can only imagine what it's going to feel like.
"If you don't fuck me with that in the next two seconds I'm gonna scream."
With the contraption strapped around his balls, pulling them down and taught, crouches over you, pushing your legs back so your pussy is pointing skyward like a sloppy wet landing pad for his balls.
He dunks the tip of the dildo into your pussy. It's cold and unfamiliar, not like the velvety warmth of his dick that stands straight ahead of you, taunting you with its glistening tip. If you could fold yourself in a pretzel you would, just to suck the head of his cock back into your mouth.
He pushes down, squatting over you with bare legs, sheathing the entire dildo into you. Another push and you feel the swell of his balls as they pop past your entrance and nestle themselves inside of you.
You gasp. The feeling is wholly unfamiliar, but still you feel yourself soaking him, slicking up his balls as they sit in your pussy.
"That hurtin'?"
"No. No, it's just I- I've never had someone's balls in me before."
"A first ball fuckin' for this little pussy," he says affectionately, stroking a thumb over your lips as they wrap themselves around his balls. His cock is protruding out of you now, like you're wearing a life like strap, and you really wish you could reach to taste where his tip threatens to drip onto you. Suddenly you understand the boys back in highschool and their failed attempts to suck their own dicks.
"They feel so big inside," you moan as he begins to gently shift above you. He pops out of you once, and pushes back in, and you throw your head back onto the soft sofa woth a moan. You have never felt anything like this. "Joel, please don't stop. Please keep fucking me with your balls."
"You got it darlin'," his voice is soft, in awe of you as you take his balls and the toy deep inside you. You feel incredible, and the wet slip of your walls on his ball skin shoots straight down his dick, and for a moment he thinks he's accidentally came too early. A quick look from your face, contorting with the fullness in your pussy, down to where his dick sticks outward, tells him otherwise. Thank fuck. He knows he has to get you off quickly. You were soaking his dick not too long ago, and before that his fingers, and before that your own sheets upstairs. You were ready, and he was nothing if not a giving man.
His thumb finds your clit, slippery from lube and your own slick, and he circles it, applying a firm pressure as he moves.
"Oh my god, that's it," you plead, opening your eyes to look at where he plays with you, balls still sunk deep.
You spur him on, rocking your hips as much as you can with your legs back, fucking yourself on his balls as he strokes your clit. You feel your pussy tense, little spasms warning you of what's to come, and you hold on tight to your own legs.
"That's it darlin'. Come on my balls. Squeeze 'em."
"F-fuuuck."
The swipe of his thumb sends you over, and you come hard on his balls with your head back and eyes squeezed shut. Your legs shake and you know he can feel how you twitch and spasm around his balls, drenching them as he dunks them in you, shallowly thrusting them as you tighten and grip him hard.
He's holding your legs back for you, looking you in the eye as he bends forward over your limp body when you open your eyes. The feral look on his face tells you he hasn't come yet, and you're desperate to see when he does.
"You been so nice I'm gonna give you an extra present. You ready?"
"Please Santa Joel, I've been so good this year," you say with a soft smirk.
He soon wipes the smirk off your face when he fucks down into you harder, practically bouncing off your ass as he slots his swollen balls into your pussy. They feel so big and heavy inside you, and even strapped down and pulled tight by the toy, you feel his balls tighten and try to draw up closer to his cock as he gets closer to coming.
"Come on me. Please. Come on me," you beg, staring between his cock and his face. Pre-cum had been steadily dripping onto you, splattering your belly, but you were hungry for more.
His fingers grip around his flushed head, stroking easily over the slicked surface. Pushing his balls deep, he bounces gently, loving the feel of his sensitive ball skin inside of your soaked hole.
"Here it comes, darlin'. Oh shit."
"Yeah, come on me. Come all over me Joel."
"Shit. Fuck."
You watch his slit as it seems to wink at you before ropes of come spurt out of the tip, shooting across your chest and neck, spattering your face and even your hair with his cum.
"Yes, yes, thank you," your eyes have snapped shut. You can feel the warm trickle of cum by your eyebrow, and you're not keen to feel the sting of semen in your eye.
For a little while he looks at you, fucked out by his balls and laying boneless on your couch. With a soft pop he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty without his balls in you. Your legs flop down and you listen to his deep breaths.
"Nothin' like a ballgasm," he pants.
Nothing like being ballfucked, you think, but the words are heavy in your mouth and you do nothing but moan, mumbling some nonsense.
"Mm... balls. They... mm. Yeah. Good."
"Too fucked out, huh?" he laughs, before swiping the cum from near your eye. "Make a Christmas wish," and he slips the finger into your waiting mouth.
He slides his finger from your mouth and you murmur a thank you as you make your wish, sighing and letting yourself relax completely for a moment.
When you tentatively open your eyes, wary of any errant drops of cum, he's gone, disappeared as soon as he'd arrived. You didn't hear the door, the window, anything. You certainly didn't hear him get dressed.
Feeling stupid, and like maybe it was all just a dream, you rush to the window. You don't expect to see anything, the man feeling too magical to have been real. But, there he is, walking down the street bare assed, his pants slung over his shoulder and his balls still swinging strapped into the toy.
No, you don't think you'll be forgetting your first Christmas in Texas any time soon at all.
soz to my tag list for this: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr
follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work
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covetyou · 5 months
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baubles, a festive masterpiece coming to you later this evening.
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spoilers below:
1) exclusive sneak peak of a highly literary, beautiful and relatable line from the fic.
2) one of the many thoughts I wrote down in my notes whilst writing it.
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covetyou · 1 month
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the most thematically perfect gif doesn't exis-
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egg hunt - the next part of dress up!Joel - is coming to a screen near you this evening.
hold onto your eggs, lads.
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covetyou · 3 months
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last line tag game
thank you @luxurychristmaspudding for the tag (and @beardedjoel for the WIP Wednesday tag! it is now Friday, but who's countin')
I have been so derailed the last couple of weeks by my asshole body and my brain being a little shit that my plans for Tim and another SWAT oneshot totally went out the window. and now (because we keep to our schedule and our plans) I'm working on something else instead for next week.
I would like to (re-)introduce you to:
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Otherwise known as Cupid Joel, formerly known as Santa Joel, aka Big Bawl Jawl.
"Didn't see any pictures last time I was here, guessed you didn't have a Valentine. Figure everyone deserves some lovin' on the big day," he says with a shrug and a quirk of his mouth. "But I can leave, if you want..." You didn't. He'd broken into your house again, and you were exhausted, but seeing him lie there, naked in your bed with the evidence of his little dress up game strewn around him, stirred things in you. If he was willing to give you some lovin' then who were you to turn that down. You were only human, after all, and it was Valentine's Day. You drop your towel without another thought. Joel grins, his smile brightening the room, and suddenly it's not only your skin that feels dripping wet.
tagging some loves to participate with no pressure but also I would like to be WIP teased by you all but I can't remember who has done what recently but I love you so this is a sign of my affection @corazondebeskar @sp00kymulderr @perotovar
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covetyou · 5 months
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So... question of the hour, how did the balldo come to your attention?
Baubles was sexy and hilarious, congrats 👏🏻
Let me set the scene...
It's July.
There I am, sat in bed scrolling through looking for my own brand shiny new Silicone Joel. I set the filters. I get to scrolling.
And there it is in all its glory. The Balldo.
I click in confusion, wondering what the hell it is, take a little look, then go back and resume scrolling, forever changed.
The filters I set never should have shown me the balldo, but they did. Some may call it a badly designed filtering system with badly tagged products.
I call it fate.
baubles
(I got two new Silicone Joel's that day btw)
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covetyou · 30 days
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wait bc good bunny, whimpering, desperate joel is kinda everything???
now you mention it, it has me a bit 🥴
I feel like he's not necessarily usually that guy, but say a year into their relationship and Joel comes home to find reader has hung a bunny costume up on the bedroom door and left one of those eggs on the dresser, and she spends the night taking control and reenacting their first Easter together in the way it should have gone if she hadn't got herself off so much first time around.
you don't let him get up or touch or anything, you just use him in the bunny costume, telling him he's going to be your very own rabbit toy for the night...
only you can't quite get yourself off, because every time you look down he's there with the bunny ears up with a pained "about to come" expression on his face and you have to fight with yourself to stop yourself from laughing.
Joel eventually gets tired of it, tears to costume off his body and pins you down, fucking you into the mattress until your brain is goo.
dress up!Joel - egg hunt
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covetyou · 4 months
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So if I leave out mince pie and sherry for regular Santa, what do I leave out for Santa Joel?
if there's one thing our Santa Joel can't resist, it's the allure of a tree to decorate and a pre-moistened hole where he can leave his sack.
...but if we're keeping it strictly to food stuffs, chestnuts roasted on an open fire (he does like to keep his nice and warm), and a shot of eggnog or Bailey's (any creamy liquid will do).
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covetyou · 4 months
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sorry, can't send images on anon
https://gsbathandcrafts.com/cdn/shop/products/image_a309b3ce-0b96-4bcf-874f-d0a07a49ca44.jpg?v=1638499630
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but what does it MEAN? hot chocolate. snow balls. elves.
obviously, I have a hope for balls (always), but I have so many QUESTIONS. are they going to be cold balls, hot balls, well packaged balls, elf balls. who knows.
ty santa non, I look forward to your gift, whatever form it may take.
watch it not be ball related at all, I always was terrible at guessing hints and riddles.
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covetyou · 4 months
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Hi you 💕 im here to beg on my knees for a snippet of cuck!joel 🥺🙏🧎 I’ve been rereading this morning and I’m dying for more
hello love ☺️ on your knees you say? okay then, since you asked so very nicely.
the next cuck!Joel is aaaaalmost finished. I'm hoping to be done today to throw it out before the end of the year, so then I can start the year with a SWAT oneshot and eventually some Tim.
and maybe get ready for a Santa Joel-y/big bawl jawl resurrection in Feb.
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