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gamermattsgf · 3 months

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Dirty little monster // Chris and Matt

Warnings: threesome filth / lowkey toxic relationship plot?? / ownership kink / degradation Chris / praiser Matt / cunnilingus / doggy / wrist restraints / unprotected sex / blindfold kink / manhandling / missionary / exhibitionist kink / brief mention of somnophilia / Eiffel Tower position / blowjob / edging / jealousy + possession kink / female stimulation / spit kink / slapping / hair pulling

Summary: Chris and Matt know the deal. They’re supposed to share you, but sometimes that idea gets in the way of their individual feelings, especially in situations like these…

Author’s notes: finally the threesome you’ve all been waiting for. If this is not your cup of tea PLEASE just scroll!! You guys are probably sick of the amount of goddamn warnings that come my shit hahaha. Also, happy late birthday present for @sturnsmadl I hope u like ur gift baby.

“You’re a dirty little monster, a coked up little pop tart… can’t keep your head out your dreams” - Too Much Sauce, Harry Styles

‘Fuck… Matt…’ you pant, your head twisted to the side as you feed your bottom lip into your teeth. The harsh pressure you exert upon it almost makes it split, the stinging sensation helping to distract you from Matt’s face that pries open your inner thighs.

His own lips look dewy and puffed, his tired eyes sleepy but alluring as the pale bags underneath them exemplify his chalky blue rings. Just showered and shaved, the smell of his cologne is almost intoxicating when it feeds itself up into your nose and diffuses across your senses. It’s sharp and citrusy and fits his clean cut personality perfectly like a breath of fresh air.

His hair is still slightly wet, and strands trace damp streaks over your stretch marks when his tongue gifts open mouthed kisses to your clit.

He presses himself so close to your throbbing sensitivity that you can barely see his face and eyes because they’re covered with his scruffy brunette hair.

You can’t help but rut your hips onto his nose as your back arches, the whine peeping from your throat breathless and needy whilst he grinds himself into the mattress. He just can’t help himself as the bed shakes backwards and forwards. Every couple of seconds you have to readjust your thighs around his head and when you do the rough skin where his beard grows grazes against the plushness of your flesh.

‘You like that sweet girl?’

The voice you hear is not Matt’s, because he is too busy licking away at your velvety slickness. But Chris’. He sits with his back against the headboard, and your back propped up against his bare chest. You lie, nestled in between his two spread thighs that are clothed over with grey sweats and subtly squeeze against your thick hips after every time you arch your back from off of his stomach.

You yourself are fully naked, with your tits out and resting softly on your chest, until Chris’ larger hands slither up your ribcage and cup them gently, his thumbs rubbing over your stiffened nipples. The pleasure from both ends is almost too much, and a hot rush flurries over your cheeks when you allow yourself to throw your head back and lean it into the crook of his shoulder.

Chris smirks as he watches the top of Matt’s head moving from in between your silky thighs intently, mesmerised by the way he swirls his tongue and causes whimpers to claw their way up your throat. He gets off on watching Matt eat you out because it’s almost as if he’s watching a high definition sex tape of himself eating you out.

‘S’Matt treating you well baby…? Making you feel good huh?’.

He presses his lips to your temple gently before pinching your nipples and loving the way you squirm at the sensation. He then kisses the side of your head softly. ‘Y-yes’ you moan, your calves sliding up and over Matt’s shoulder blades to give him better access whilst your hands grapple to squeeze against Chris’ sweatpants. Matt grunts at Chris’ praise of his work whilst lathering his tongue over your spongy nerve messily.

‘Yeah? His mouth making you wanna come?’

Chris speaks for Matt so that Matt can keep working against your clit, his face rocking backwards and forwards over your cunt as his hands come to splay about the tops of your thighs. You can feel the way Matt’s cheeks apple when he smirks at what Chris says, because he knows it’s true, and he knows his tongue has the ability to make you unravel at his fingertips.

‘Please’ is all you can heave whilst craning your neck forwards once again to look at Matt.

‘That’s my good girl, so polite aren’t you?’

Chris coos once again from behind you. Suddenly Matt pulls his heavenly tongue away from his teasing so that he can spit a string of saliva all over your dripping folds. He leers upwards which makes your calves fall from his shoulders. Lazily, they plant themselves back down onto the mattress at his sides as his saliva seeps down you slit. He raises his eyebrows incredulously at Chris, before licking his lips and flicking his dilated pupils back to yours.

‘Our good girl’ he corrects bitingly, before leaning over from his position in between your spread legs to smooth his lips onto yours. He bites your bottom one gently and sighs into the kiss whilst pushing his tongue through the barrier of your teeth.

Whilst Matt kisses you, Chris finds it necessary to let one of his hands delicately trail down your navel, only to slide in between your folds and stroke your slimy clit, saturated in Matt’s saliva.

Chris practically cradles you to himself within his larger frame as you crumple back into him in pleasure.

You uncontrollably moan into Matt’s mouth at the rough pads of his long fingers moving in slow concentric circles whilst he manoeuvres his lips to the side of your neck, just so that he isn’t missing out on the action. ‘Love my fingers touching you like that, don’t you baby?’ He teases, lusting after the feeling of your hot clit easily skimming against his fingertips. He doesn’t just kiss your neck though, he bites and sucks it, each time pulling away to see how much darker he has the purple roses blooming on your flesh.

He likes it that he’s the one who’s now making you whine, not Matt, so grins deviously into your neck.

All of you know the agreement. Matt and Chris are supposed to share you, but sometimes each one of them can’t help but want you to themselves. And sometimes they do take you for themselves. Matt had you in the shower last week, and Chris had you in the coat cupboard the other day. But the catch is that they do it secretly - behind each other’s backs - not that you mind. It just means that you get more out of the deal than them. So you just don’t tell them.

The three of you know that this is a toxic relationship you share, and a toxic cycle at that… but you’re all addicts, and you can’t help but crawl back to each other after every single time you give into these frivolous sexual desires.

Chris is a selfish fuck, but Matt is an obsessive one. Both of them are possessive, and whenever you three are together it is a constant competition to see which one of them can make you cry harder, moan louder, cum quicker. They can’t help but be competitive when around you, because they want to feel like their cock pleases you more, stretches you out thicker and fills you up the most.

With that being said, as you moan softly into Matt’s face, he’s envious that your lips get lazy and languid with their kissing motions. I mean… you’re barely even trying to make out with him anymore, and it’s all Chris’ fault. So he fixes that by scooping his cupped hands underneath your armpits in the heat of his jealous moment.

He always has a couple of those when you three fuck together.

He detaches you from his mouth and lifts you high up enough to be thrown over Chris’ thigh and into the centre of the bed. This therefore also rips Chris away from you and he huffs in annoyance when Matt clambers over him to get to your body.

You lie in the centre of the bed in helplessness, your cheeks an embarrassed red and your thighs shyly clamped together in modesty because of the way Chris and Matt look at you. They devour you with their eyes… their pupils peeling apart each section of your skin and feasting on it. And you just know that when they’re done with using you, they’re going to be licking their sticky fingers clean of your honeyed mess.

‘Fuck, look at you, all wet and needy for us. You’re so pretty…’ Matt muses whilst admiring you before he’s bending his torso over and peeling his cropped blue shirt from off of his back. This reveals his smooth skin, and now he matches Chris in attire, until Chris sees that he’s evened the odds and decides to take off his sweats so that now he’s only in his underwear.

You blink and place your palm over your eyes in humiliation. ‘Stop’ you whine slightly at his praise, and it makes it even worse when Chris decides to join in too. ‘You greedy baby… wanting both of our cocks at the same time, you’re such a little cum slut aren’t you? Naughty girl. What’re we gonna do with her Matt?’.

Chris smirks as he looks over to a Matt that has to purse his own lips together to suppress his grin, his chest rising and falling as he debates on how they’re going to take you today.

There’s a moment of silence before Matt presumably has an idea.

‘Go get one of your bandanas Chris…’ he requests, nodding his head towards one of the shelves in the room that had Chris’ various bandanas draped over the top of it. You swallow nervously as Chris catches onto Matt’s idea. With a cheeky glint in his eyes he withdraws from the bed, ‘sure thing Matt…’.

Matt watches him for a second before turning his attention back to you as he fumbles with his Diesel belt buckle. You watch attentively as his spindly fingers wrap around the clanging metal, the leather expertly being pulled through the clasp. Then he’s opening it and slowly sliding it out from his belt loops. The agonising pace is to tease you, of course, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

‘I haven’t stopped thinking about using this on you since the last time it happened’ Matt reminisces, and it takes you back to that one time you three had been fooling around, and Chris and Matt had used their belts on you. One belt had been tied to a wrist and an ankle each. This had spread you open and allowed them to fuck you from behind, as they took turns to hitch your hips up and keep you still for them.

‘Can I do it again baby, will you let me tie you up? Please… it’ll be so pretty I promise’ he begs whilst the floorboards creak under Chris’ footsteps. His black bandana is slung in his right hand lazily as he makes his way back to the bed, just in time for you to give in and nod with agreement.

‘Whatever you want Matt.’ You mumble submissively with a little seductive smile. It drives him fucking feral to the point of insanity when you do that, he had only had his lips on you just minutes ago but now he wanted to do it all over again.

His mouth waters for your sweetness, your pre-come, the wetness leaking from your folds that he creates with his tongue.

You squirm about to position yourself on your knees, before leaning up and arching your back. You bury your face into the pillows at the top of the bed and give Matt an eye-full of your pulsating core whilst you lift your wrists to rest them together on your tailbone.

Matt’s cock is so fucking hard and so fucking sore, he’s definitely saturated under all of his layers, just as he’s sure Chris is too, because he also gawks at you and licks his lips when Matt shuffles up to your behind. From there, he loops his belt around your flimsy wrists. You hiss slightly when he knots it tightly, his biceps flexing and his nose scrunching. Simultaneously, Chris decides to shuffle up towards your head.

‘Look up for me a sec baby’ he demands you softly by patting your hair, and you do as your told, only to immediately have your vision obscured when Chris forces the bandana over your face and onto your eyes. You twist your head helplessly and whine a little when Matt forces your hips downwards into the mattress.

Your stomach roughly hits the mattress at his manhandling and your legs give out underneath you.

‘Turn around for us honey’. It’s Chris speaking again, you recognise the tone of his voice so you try to look in the general direction of it but to no avail. You wriggle around with great difficulty what with having your wrists restrained behind your back, and as you do, you also hear the small sound of Matt’s zipper scratching against the seam of his jeans. He’s taking them off.

‘W-what are you gonna do to me?’ You mumble nervously, now sitting on your ass with your legs crossed awkwardly so that you aren’t completely spread out and on display in front of them. Something about having a blindfold on and having your sense of sight completely eliminated made you jittery, especially when you couldn’t tell who’s cold hand was playfully skimming up your bare thigh.

‘We’re gonna play a little game, aren’t we Chris?’ Matt speaks, his voice nearest to you ear, so you assume that he’s the one who has just trailed his hand up your skin.

‘What kind of game?’ You swallow nervously, trying your best to look up at Matt, but you no longer feel his warm presence beside you and so you furrow your eyebrows underneath the bandana.

‘Simple. You try and guess who it is that’s touching you. You guess correctly you can have your orgasm, you don’t… we’re allowed to edge you’ Matt explains, before clarifying with an ‘s’that fair princess, hm?’.

The princess name has you blushing. You love it when Matt calls you princess.

After fucking them a couple of times, you realised each one had different tastes. Chris seemed to like degradations, and using methods of ownership to get you to your high, he liked things rough and fast and even sometimes couldn’t help his wandering hands that frequently reached out to playfully slap your thighs or face whilst he buried himself inside of you.

Matt was vastly different, he took the very definition of the word ‘praise’ and ran with it. He was all about the idea of feminine pleasure, and preferred to help you reach your high with words of affirmation and sugary sweet pet names. He liked things slow, sensual, intimate… and sometimes even lazy. Sloppiness and saliva was key whether it be him waking you up in the morning with his mouth on you or him fuck you in the simply position of missionary. He always wanted eye-contact.

Chris fucking lusted dominating you, it didn’t matter how, he just chased that possession of control. Matt wanted to establish connections and soak in physical touches. Which is why you liked having both of them, because it introduced an interesting dynamic to your experimentations. You liked having two people with completely different kinks because in the end they would always come together and use them both on you simultaneously.

The proposition seems easy enough to you, considering the fact that you know both of their bodies like the back of your hand, so you agree, simply just desperate for an orgasm now seeing as Matt had pulled away from your core right before he could give you one earlier.

What you don’t know however, is that Matt and Chris had anticipated this. And so had mutually agreed before this rendezvous that they would completely switch up their tactics to mirror the other one’s sexual habits.

You lie there statically on the bed patiently waiting for someone to viciously attack you with their onslaught of tongues, and soon someone does.

Matt makes eye contact with Chris and nods his head towards you, signalling that he wants to go first. Chris grins and decides to lie down on the other side of the bed whilst Matt crawls up to your awaiting body. He twists his head to look over at the two of you and bites his lip when Matt roughly wrestles you back around and onto your knees. Your breath hitches a little because you’re not expecting it and you almost fall back over trying to balance.

Matt roughly flattens his palm in between your shoulder blades and forces your front downwards so your tits and left cheek are pressed into the duvet cover. Matt uses his knee to kick out your thighs and spread them for him whilst he smooths his hands against your hips. Just as Chris would usually do.

Whilst this is going on, Chris throbs and watches with drool almost falling from his mouth. Matt takes his underwear off and very quickly is able to slide himself into your plushness. The cry you expel is muffled with the soft fabric of the sheets on the bed as his cock stretches you out unexpectedly. Everything feels wet and hot as his prick throbs inside of you before he starts to rock his hips roughly.

Chris can’t help but bury his own hand beneath his underwear to stroke himself whilst he admires the way you get fucked in his favourite position. He loves the way that your hips always swivel and the way your back always arches, even when it’s not him who’s fucking you, it just looks so hypnotic, and he loves watching it happen.

Matt smirks down at you, panting as his hips snap up to hit against your ass rhythmically. Your moans are still quietened but they do a great job at getting both Matt and Chris worked up.

And as much as he hates to admit it, Matt likes this oppertunity to be rough with you in front of Chris, because he knows how jealous Chris gets when he sees him fucking you how he normally likes to fuck you.

Matt then suddenly reaches one of his hands forward to greedily take a fistful of your hair and yank on it, lifting your head up a little and allowing you to now groan into the air. Chris has to roll his eyes back into his head and close them at this, just to suppress the moans he wants to shout, because if he gave in to his temptations it would ruin the game. And he doesn’t want to miss out on his turn to do a better job than Matt.

You feel flurries of pleasure rippling past your thighs after every time Matt’s cock returns and hits the right spot. With your hair pulled back, your voice strains at the awkward angle your neck is tilted at, but you blurt out a laboured ‘C-Chris, it’s Chris isn’t it?’ when your build up starts to get more intense. Matt and Chris stop what they’re doing to grin maliciously at each other, they knew you’d fall for this idea of theirs.

Matt turns back to you, before slowing his thrusts with a ‘guess again sweetheart’ cockily singsonging from his mouth. He’s smug with it as he pulls his cock out of you completely before slapping your ass in playfulness whilst your shoulders deflate.

‘What…?’ You breathe in delirious confusion, so sure that it was Chris because he usually liked to fuck you that way. Guess you were mistaken. But now you’re pouty because that’s the second time you’ve been denied an orgasm. You huff in annoyance whilst Chris giggles. ‘God, are we gonna have to gag you as well? S’that the only thing that’ll keep you quiet? Wonder what the neighbours think…?’.

You bury your head back into the mattress in embarrassment, not being able to help your sensuous sounds. Your cheeks turn pink at Chris’ insult. ‘I’m sorry… I can’t help how good you make me feel’ you mumble, trying to retaliate his harsh words with flattery. Chris likes to have his ego stroked, it comes hand in hand with his ownership kink, he likes to hear how good he makes you feel, so you manipulate that to your advantage to soften his exterior. Chris and Matt make eye contact with each other, knowing what kind of game you’re trying to play with them, so Matt gestures for Chris to have his turn.

You again, sit and wait for someone else to pounce, now in a more conflicted mood than before, knowing that both Chris and Matt are going to make this a lot harder than you first anticipated.

It’s not long before Chris can’t contain himself anymore and he’s practically sprawling over to you with a yearning to finally have your cunt to himself.

He makes sure you have your back fully pressed to the mattress with your cuffed wrists wedged uncomfortably between your back and the sheets. He moves in between your spread thighs, squeezing his hands down the backs of them whilst he opens you up before painting the tip of his red cock right over your throbbing clit.

Your head throws itself back when Chris feeds himself into you, going slowly to make sure you can adjust before he starts to rock his hips, his cock wetly slipping in and out of your already used hole. His figure soon looms over so that his face can nuzzle into your tits, spitting on your nipples and then passing his tongue over them, strings of saliva connecting his lips to your flushed skin. The constant rocking motion is almost too much for you, and you nearly cum by accident, but you hold back.

Instead of cumming though, you yelp instead because suddenly Chris takes one of your nipples into his mouth, only to bite at it harshly. Tears spring into your eyes, too focused on the pleasure and the pain to figure out who the fuck this could be. It could be Chris… but it also could be Matt going again… trying to trick you.

Chris pulls away, only to tip his chin up and look past your head at a Matt that sits and watches the two of you with his lips set into a dissatisfied line, seething with jealousy even though Chris and him had agreed to work together.

He can’t stand sharing you sometimes, and it’s just agony to watch Chris touch something that should be his.

Chris looks directly at him with a challenging gaze once again, a panting smirk on his stupid fucking face after every time he grinds himself forward and elicits a strangle breath from you. ‘Fuck, it hurts…’ you whine breathlessly, your sensitivity so overwhelming after being stretched out by two different cocks. But Chris decides to smooth his hand over your mouth and utter a possessive ‘shh… baby, I know… I know’ gently into your ear as he uses his other hand to stroke gentle circles over your hipbone.

Chris couldn’t help it. He let his voice slip, and that gave you exactly what you needed to guess correctly this time. And thankfully you guess right with a panting ‘Chris! It’s Chris!!’ right up onto the seal of his sweaty hand.

You don’t think you would have been able to suffer through another round of this torture so you are relieved when Chris slips his bandana from off of your head. He grins down at you at throws the forgotten fabric to the floor.

‘Hi sweet girl…’ he coos down to you, still moving his hips up and loving the way your little face screws up cutely in pleasured suspense after every thrust.

He smiles down at you but the moment is rudely interrupted by a Matt that grunts ‘alright that’s enough’ as he moves up to the both of you. He doesn’t want to give Chris the satisfaction of being the only one who’s able to get you off, or the delight of being the one who’s able to cum all over you. ‘I want her gut, you had it last time, s’only fair’ he barks at Chris, and gives his shoulder a brotherly shove to which Chris begrudgingly complies with a roll to his eyes and a subdued sigh.

Even though you love having both of them at the same time, you’ll admit it gets a little irritating when they constantly quarrel over who gets to finish where, especially when you’ve been edged about three times now this time.

‘Guys… p-please can you just let me cum? I don’t fucking care how you do it, just- please!’ You whine like a petulant child, knowing that if they see you’re desperate for them, they’ll listen to you.

‘Fuck, sorry baby. We’re sorry, sweetheart’ Matt immediately dotes upon you by profusely apologising, before coming up to you and spreading his hands over you hips so that he can flip your body over and onto your knees for the last time. ‘Shh, shh, c’mere baby’ he continues as he once again comes up behind you and stuffs you full of his cock. You moan, this time in aggravated pain at how long your aching walls have had to wait whilst Matt uses his quick fingers to finally untie your wrists, his belt loosening ever so slightly before it slides off completely and you can put your arms back onto the mattress.

This allows you to lean up onto your hands whilst Matt starts moving. You come face to face with Chris’ cock and look up between your eyelashes to see the way he smirks down at you hungrily.

‘Go on then pretty, I know how much you like giving me head…’.

You roll your eyes with a glare before succumbing and sliding his perfect thickness right past your teeth, already accustomed to his size because of how much he loves to have you suck him off.

Whilst you work yourself against Chris’ thick skin, you struggle not to choke on him as he starts to teasingly thrust into your face. This pushes himself further down your tight throat. Chris shivers and arches his back, Matt slipping his finger down to your clit so that he can rub it as he finishes you off.

‘Can- can I cum down your throat?’ Chris utters through a groan, asking for your permission to finish.

You nod sweetly and let him, which he does. His cum seeps out stickily from his head and making its way into your mouth almost on command. You suck him a little more to get rid of everything he has before he slaps your cheek a little at his overstimulation. ‘F-fuck- that’s enough baby!’. He carefully slides himself out and watches Matt help you to your own high.

Your neck crooks as you throw your jaw back when Matt continually ruts his hips into you throughout your intensive orgasm.

After you become spent and just as sensitive as Chris, you whine for him to stop, so he pulls out and strokes himself until he too finishes all over your ass, his sticky cum sliding down your hot skin.

All three of you collapse onto the bed in a panting sweaty mess. You lie there and look at Chris who smirks back at you, before casually reaching for his phone and putting in his passcode like nothing had even happened before hand.

Matt reaches out his hand to affectionately trace circles over your back before he’s shuffling around behind you. The bed creaks as he gets up. He leans over you to kiss in between your shoulders blades before mumbling ‘I’ll go get a cloth’ to both you and Chris.

As he walks away, Chris glances down at you, deciding to thread his fingers through your hair and stroke it absentmindedly whilst he clears his throat and quickly shoots a random text to one of his friends.

Both of you melt into the mattress in relaxation, Chris’ fingers scratching your scalp just enough to lull you to sleep after your exhausting escapade with the both of them.

You know you guys should probably stop this. But you can’t. It’s just so addictive… so much so that you think it’s fair enough to title all of you a dirty little monster for enjoying such a filthy fucking thing…

Author’s notes p.2: I’m writing whole ass novels, fuck me bro. Technically the song I used is an unreleased Harry Styles song so only the real ones know how it goes teehee. But anyways, this was literally like- Skye Teller but the 18+ version lol. I lowkey felt so much pressure writing this bc so many people have been fangirling about it, so hopefully (with a little bit of luck) I didn’t disappoint you lovely readers who I love so much for giving my silly little stories attention :). As always, request / ask whatever u want thirsty hoes!!! Until next time 🎀

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frannyzooey · 1 year

Text

One Bed

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

A/N: Just shameless "there is only one bed" filth for the amazing beauty who is @jollyrancher87. Thank you for sending me your ask, my lovely - I hope you like it! ❤️

“Goddamn it.”

He sighs, his fingers curled around the straps of his backpack as he shifts his weight to one foot and you step around him to see what he is looking at.

Oh.

“I mean,” you start carefully, “At least there’s one?”

You both look at the set of beds in front of you: one perfectly fine, if not a bit worn and dusty, and the other one covered in a pool of water from a crack in the ceiling above. It’s been dripping on it awhile, long enough for silt and plaster to form a sort of sludge on the top of the comforter and you only imagine how thick the mold is underneath.

“Just take it,” he says, shrugging his pack off and you frown, shaking your head.

“You’re the one with the bad back, you take it. I’ll make do on the floor.”

Impatience and exhaustion flares bright in his reply, his expression one of frustration. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the fuckin’ floor while I get the bed. Just take it. I’ll be fine.”

He places his pack on the floor, kneeling down to join it. Resting his head on the rough, dirty canvas and folding his tight arms across his chest, he looks so comically uncomfortable that you fight the urge to laugh.

“Jesus, Joel, get up.” You tap the toe of your boot against the heel of his and he looks up at you with a frown. “Look, it’s not huge or anything, but we should both be able to fit. Get up here.”

His eyes narrow, and you roll your eyes, turning away from him. You feel his gaze on you as you set your pack down and toe your boots off, placing them both at the end of the bed. Pulling back the covers, you lay down and tug them up and over you, laying still.

“You coming?”

There is a beat, and then you hear another deep sigh escape him from the floor.

“Fine.”

–

Practically asleep before his head hit the pillow, he wakes in the middle of the night. Not the sort of sudden jolt that he’s used to, but rather a slow, hazy pull from the depths that he’s often not afforded. He’s been sleeping deeply, and what wakes him is that he’s hot – too hot, uncomfortably hot. He moves to push away the covers when he touches something else instead - you.

You’ve wound around each other in your sleep: your face buried in the crook of his neck, your arms curled against the width of his chest, his leg tucked in between your own with his arm slung protectively over the curve of your side. He can tell you’re still asleep from your slow, steady breaths and he tries to carefully extract himself, but for every inch he moves back, you unconsciously press closer.

He tries to rouse you instead, his hand gently shaking your shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, in the dark. “Hey. Wake up.”

Expecting you to wake with a start, he tries not to think about how the only reason you’re probably so deeply asleep is his close proximity. How he himself slept just as deeply for the same reason.

He shakes you again. “Hey.”

Your eyes still closed, a small frown pulls between your brows. You tilt your face up, still half asleep and when your mouth brushes his, he freezes. He doesn’t move, abandoning the attempt to wake you and he thinks you’ve fallen back asleep when your arm unfurls from his chest, reaching up to cup his cheek. He lets you touch it for a moment, his eyes taking in your face in the dark.

Your mouth is so close to his he can feel warm puffs of your breath skimming over his lips, your face so close that he can see the fan of your thick lashes and your nose brushes against his in a sleepy nuzzle, seeking out his warmth. Your hand slides up into his hair, fingers threading into the thick strands.

He should pull back and stop this, but he doesn’t.

“Joel,” you whisper slowly, your mouth full and soft with sleep.

His eyes drop to it for a moment and it looks so plush and inviting that he can’t help himself.

When his mouth meets yours in a chaste press, you kiss him back with an unconscious purse of your lips, opening them just enough to fit his lower lip neatly between your own. He breathes you in, letting them rest together in a full, lush fit and then you’re giving him another one; a firmer, more conscious pressure. Another one yet, his hand cradling the soft curve of your cheek to keep you in place.

You fit yourself closer to him, your thighs tightening around his own and your nails drag over his scalp, his fingers pressing into the hinge of your jaw in a silent request to open yourself wider for him. You taste sweeter than he thought you would, your sleep-thick mouth warm and inviting and hungry and when he shifts to lean over you, you tug him on top of you instead.

You might have been sleeping before, but he knows you’re fully awake now even if you won’t open your eyes. Your movements are intentional, the width of his body heavy and solid between your legs, comforting in its weight and your head tips back into the pillow, pulling away from the kiss for some air. He doesn’t seem to need any, his mouth molding around the curve of your jaw before sliding down the length of your neck and he gives the sweet skin there open mouthed kisses, a slight suck to them. His teeth catch, and you quietly moan.

Bringing his mouth back to yours, his beard brushes against your skin, your tongue chasing his as you deepen the kiss and when he lets out a low groan into your mouth, you swallow it down, savoring it.

He sounds just like he does in your dreams, just like the way this feels. Slick and needy between your legs, you roll your hips up to meet his in a wordless invitation and he presses his down into you, making room for himself. Soon you’re grinding against each other in desperation: your achingly empty core seeking out the solid heft that you can feel pressed against you, his own need evident.

“Joel, I –,” you whisper into his mouth in between kisses, a pleading creeping into the word and he nods, knowing what you need.

His hand reaches down and fumbles with his belt, another groan pouring into your mouth when he feels the heat of you against the back of his hand and then he’s working on the button of your jeans, trying to work it open. You try to help, but it’s not fast enough for him and with your thumbs still hooked under the waistband to slide them down, he shoves his hand underneath everything to find your slick seam, filling you swiftly with two thick fingers.

“Fuck,” you whine, abandoning your plan and arching your hips into his hand. He curls his fingers and begins a grinding stroke, the digits a snug fit in their slick slide.

“Goddamn,” he groans, muscle memory making him reach for a spot inside. He finds it, rubbing the pads of his fingers against it and is rewarded with your breathless cry, and a tight clench. “You’re so fuckin’ wet for me. So wet. Gonna feel so good around my cock. Gonna make me come, with this sweet little pussy.”

His fingers work, work, work underneath your jeans and you can’t even answer him with how good it feels. You let your thighs drop open wider, your hands reaching down to splay over the curve of his ass and you meet every one of his strokes with your hips, forcing his fingers deeper. He looks down at you with hooded eyes, his mouth parted as he watches you take.

“I want a taste,” he breathes, pushing his fingers in as deep as they can go, down to the base of his bruised knuckles. “I want –” he kisses you greedily, panting into your mouth. “I want to taste it, but I –”

You want him to taste it too - Christ, you do – but you need him to fuck you right now more than you need air to breathe, so you wrap your hand around his wrist with a tug and he slips it out from your pants, your hands already working on shoving your jeans down. He understands, his weight abruptly leaving you to sit up and back on his heels and when he helps you strip them off along with your underwear, his body bows immediately to taste, but you stop him, pulling him back up to cover you.

He reaches between you to pull himself out, aching and thick and stiff in the calloused palm of his hand and since that is the sensation that he is used to, he groans loudly when he finds the dip of your entrance and fills you with a smooth, slick stroke.

You hastily shove the loose band of this jeans down further, needing to feel every inch of skin he’ll afford you and when his hips are a neat, flush fit against your own just like his mouth was earlier, you rock up to encourage him to move.

“You okay?” he asks, knowing just how much he is to take and you nod, your teeth biting into your plush lower lip.

“Yea, just – just move.” You raise your head off the pillow to kiss him, and when he dips his own to reach your mouth, he slides even deeper, his body relaxing on top of yours. The action steals the breath from your lungs, a soft sound catching in the back of your throat and he pulls his hips back just enough to feel the friction of you before sliding home again. Again, again.

Your thighs hitch higher around his waist, your hands slipping under his thick flannel, splaying over his muscles flexing under your hold. His hand curls around the crown of your head, keeping you in place as he feels you shift up the mattress underneath him with every thrust and between the skill of his mouth and his hips, you can’t think of anything but him.

You wish you could feel him wholly: feel his firm, bare body against yours, feel the sparse hair that covers his thighs and trails low over his belly, feel sweat collect where your body is joined as he moves above you - but you’ll take what you can get, in this room in the middle of nowhere, in this bed you were forced to share.

“I knew you would feel this good,” he says lowly, his eyes closing with a frown. “I knew it.”

He’s been thinking about it for ages, waking up hard night after night, finding relief in his hand when he gets a moment alone and now that he has you, he can’t stop himself from going harder, deeper. The damp heat of your mouth rests just under his jaw, your gasps reaching his ears like the sweetest sound he’s ever heard and it makes him swell even more inside you; a bright flare of heat gathering at the base of his spine.

You hook your ankles higher on his back, your hands bracing themselves on the mattress to help you force the angle just right and his hips are a rhythmic pound against the inside of your thighs, his jaw clenching with effort. He switches into a grind the wetter you get, his hand coming up to cup your chin and force your mouth to meet his, and your fingers dig into the meat of his forearm, holding on.

Black skates around the edges of your vision, his scent and his sounds and his weight and strokes and thickness consuming you, and you just like in the shadowed blur of your dreams, you can’t say anything. Instead your body matches his need: your fingers gripping him in their desperate hold, your heels digging into the back of his thighs to push him deeper, your mouth memorizing his taste.

He was never a man of words to begin with, but they have all left him now, and he chases the flutter he feels around him, stoking it until you’re all but gasping underneath him in your breathless warning. He wants to hear you say it just like you do in his dreams and as if you can read his mind, you do.

“Joel,” you cry out, your lips brushing against his. “I’m – you feel too good, I –”

His hand drifts down to hold your hip, and he picks up his pace.

Your fingers twist in his flannel, hanging on as he tips you right over the edge and the frozen, taut lock of your body underneath him makes him spill his own release; some inside, some along the curve of your ass when he tries to pull out. He twitches against you, his cock a wet smear along your skin and even though you can feel him try to immediately pull back, you hang on tight to him, forcing him to stay close.

He’s breathing heavily and so are you, your eyes locked on each other.

He doesn’t know what to say. He shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have encouraged it, shouldn’t have taken advantage of your sleep muddled need and just when he’s about to open his mouth, you beat him to speaking.

A smile curls at the edge of your lips and his eyes drop to watch; he can never look away from your mouth.

“Thank god for one bed.”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #joel miller smut #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic

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katsukiizmoon · 7 months

Text

╰┈➤ ꒰🕸🍒┊Explaining | Katsuki Bakugou꒱

Can’t stop thinking about this post by @tired-biscuit and thinking even harder about catching Katsuki one night.

Will this turn into a thing? Maybe— (update from future! me: This is somehow 2.7k. I don’t know if it even makes any sense, mush brain. It’s midnight. Christ. Edited and added a little read more thing)

『♡』 f! reader, best friends to lovers, m masturbation, piv sex, arguing, anxious katsuki for a bit, some praise, fingering, idk guys sex stuff, unedited bc I wrote it half asleep

Katsuki fucks his fist sloppy, chewing on the end of his shirt. Slippery beads of precum well up and spill down the shaft and he circles his thumb over the head.

He chokes back a moan and squeezes harder, slamming his hips forward desperately in need of release. The tension in his body has been pulling like a rubber band for hours. It stretches farther and farther every time.

Tonight was torture for him. You’d worn those stupid shorts and a loose crop top. You never wear a bra under your crop tops, let alone around him.

Every time you’d lift your arms too high he’d get a peek of your pretty tits and jerk his head to the side. Your shorts were no different— showing off the underside of your ass cheeks and tight enough he could just make out the outline of your pussy. Normally both would be fine but, fuck.

His strokes get faster while his mind fuzzes. Lust clouds his thought process as he shoves the guilt to the back of his mind to deal with later. His face feels numb, his lips tingle, the metaphorical rubber band pulls tighter.

Tighter. Like his fist is while it squeezes down on his cock and spreads the precum all over him.

Tighter. Like he’s sure your pussy would be as it was wrapping around him and sucking him with each thrust.

The end of his t shirt is wet and slobbery. A thin sheen of sweat coats his body and the slapping wet noises of his thrusts is getting louder. His brows furrow as he closes overwhelmed eyes. With the sound of the water running in the background he doesn’t even hear you coming.

You’re usually a little loud when you’re sleepy and heading to the bathroom. Your feet amble beneath you without too much sense, body heavy, mind foggy— you’re a sweet little thing when you’re sleepy. One too many times has he woken to you running into walls while trying to get into the bathroom.

But he doesn’t hear you this time.

He pants and whines a little in the back of his throat, sloppily fucking his hand. He’s focused on the thought of you up under him. Sliding your shorts to the side and letting him eat your pussy. Bouncing on his cock in that big shirt you stole from him a year or two ago.

He’s a goddamn mess. The tension and heat in his tummy gets tighter, tighter, until he feels like he might pass out. The world is about to allow him the grace of relief.

And then you sleepily open your bathroom door. You’re still half awake with drool on your face and your eyes hardly open. You’d changed into comfier shorts and kept the crop top, which was now riding up on one side so that your tit was on display.

“Gotsta’ pee,” You blink hazily trying to figure out why your bathroom smells like fresh salted caramel.

He forgot to lock it.

Katsuki is frozen in place. He doesn’t know what to do, say, think— you just walked in on him jacking off in your bathroom. Precum is still dribbling out and all over his hand. He opens his mouth with a red face and lets his shirt drop to cover his abs, quickly shoving his cock into his pajama pants.

And you’re just standing there like you hardly even register what’s going on. Your eyes widen when two and two come together, making four. Watery carmine eyes meet yours as his lips tremble before he’s shoving past you with sparking palms.

He tries to rush out and makes a mad dash to your bedroom to grab his things. Embarrassment and guilt makes him panic, filling his being with a nauseous feeling. And he’s not sure what to do or say.

Does he say sorry? Does he confess? Does he block you and run?

For once, Katsuki doesn’t want to be brave. He is scared and he is tired of being the hero who has no fear. Anxiety makes his fingers shake while tears threaten to spill over his pretty tanned cheeks.

You come rushing around the corner with flushed cheeks and determined hands. Your fingers twist into his shirt and pull him back, spinning him around to face you. It’s a miracle you managed it with how much bigger and stronger he is.

Katsuki’s terrified gaze holds yours with a trembling lower lip. He might be much bigger but right now he feels small.

“Wait, wait, wait. Hey— hey what’s goin’ on?” You coo, pulling him toward your bed to sit. His feet move on their own accord and do as you please. “Why are you leaving?” Fingers twist tighter in his shirt.

The blonde gawks and scrambles for words. Quick breaths leave his lips with little to no time between. Katsuki wants to cry, scream, and just die. You caught him beating his fuckin meat in your bathroom and now you’re comforting him.

“What else m’ I supposed to fuckin do?” He grunts, putting his brave face and frown right back on.

“Get in bed and go back to sleep?” Your head tilts and you say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Katsuki confusedly jerks back with a frown and snort. Thick hands grip his sweatpants for dear life.

“You want me to get in bed with you and go back to sleep after—after that?” The AC kicks on in the background and whirrs to life, sending cool air through the room.

“Yeah? Unless you wanna talk about it now at,” you glance at the clock on the nightstand “, two fourty five in the fucking morning.” You rub your face with your palm.

“I don’t think me jacking off in your bathroom needs explaining.” He spits, flustered and annoyed. His face scrunches up all sour and huffs, the tips of his ears still red.

You sigh and frustration bubbles in his chest.

“What? You can’t seriously want me—“

Your hand presses to his mouth and you shoot him a glare. Exhaustion spreads your features with a huff to shut him up.

“What’s going on? And don’t give me some bullshit. Just tell me what’s going on.” Your tone leaves no room for an argument.

“You and your stupid fuckin— stupid shorts and whiny voice and shit. That’s what’s going on!” He leans in so that his nose is only a few inches from yours and snaps.

“Me?” You mumble, obviously confused.

“Yes, you.” His fingers press near your sternum and poke with a growl.

You squeak and narrow your eyes, moving closer to him yourself and pushing his chest lightly.

“What about you?” You guffaw. You’re not quite wrapping your mind around the situation yet, still tired and not understanding what the big deal is.

And Katsuki nearly loses it. The tension so thick you could cut it with a knife, his mind racing and chest heaving. He’s been dealing with you practically torturing him day in and day out for years— and now you’re asking about him. But before he can speak you start rambling on.

“You run around in these goddamn sweatpants-“ you tug at the grey fabric a little “and you say I’M what’s going on? You still haven’t explained shit!”

Katsuki turns a shade of red you’ve never seen before. He starts noticing your close proximity, the way your breath still smells like toothpaste, your pout. Your lips are an inch away from his and it is taking every little bit of willpower he has to not kiss you.

“Yes.” A puff of air ghosts over your lips and you take in the sight in front of you. Feelings you tried to shove down bubble in your tummy and spread.

The rubber band that’s been winding in his gut and mind for far too long grows tighter. Stretched to the point of which it’ll never be the same.

Heat in your stomach starts to flow and consume your being as things begin to click into place. He was getting off in your bathroom, he said you’re what’s going on.

“Oh..” you breathlessly whisper. Something in you burns. If he feels the same way then.. it couldn’t hurt, could it?

Katsuki jerks his head away from yours and looks to the side. His shoulders tight, grey t shirt with a damp area at the bottoms wrinkling as he fidgets with it. It’s like he’s waiting for the sting of rejection.

You grab his jaw with unsure hands and guide him back to look at you. His big, misty and wide eyes peering into your own.

And then you kiss him.

Snap

All tongue and soft lips, teeth clashing against his from the awkward position. You dig your nails into his chest like he’s gonna float away if you don’t.

And katsuki just might. Because you taste just like he thought you would, your mouth moves against his like he was just fantasizing about before. He soaks in the kiss like it will be his last until you break for air while panting.

“Don’t you ever try to run from me like that again.” You whine and dive back in.

His body acts before he can think enough to stop himself. You fall back against the mattress, plushie beside your head. His thick heavy body presses you into it and weighs you down while big hands travel up and down you. He explores your body like it’s something to be worshipped.

Your own hands push and pull at him. They slide under his shirt and drag nails down his toned, tan back. Your legs open up so he can slot between them with a particularly good suck on his bottom lip.

A breathy moan leaves your lips and it sends fire down his body.

“Fuck— god.” He whines between kisses. The line of his cock presses against you through your thin pajama shorts and makes you antsy. Your fingers grip at Wheaty blond roots and tug.

“Is this— oh,” You can feel him drag against you through his sweats. “ is this what you were thinking about?”

Katsuki shakes his head.

“Close enough.” He gasps, guttural and needy as your teeth nip under his jaw. Your tongue slides down the column of his throat as his clothed cock does against your heat.

“Wanna know what I think about?”

His mind stills and he nods feverishly before diving into the crook of your neck to suck. Pink marks are left in his wake and his fingers slide under the fabric of your shorts to rub little circles on your clit.

It makes you stutter and forget what you’re doing for a moment, your legs shake and squeeze around him.

“Been thinkin’ bout your cock in me—“ your pussy drools all over his fingers and the breath gets punched out of him all at once.

“God you fuckin minx.” He growls and slips a finger into your already soaked core. He feels a little more sure of himself, a little better about it.

Your head throws back when he adds the second finger and curls them up. The pad of his thumb works in little circles and flicking motions rhythmically. You keep making these little noises that send jolts to his cock and make it twitch.

For the second time that night, his cock drools precum. It smears against the inside of his pajama pants and dribbles even more when your eyes go wide.

“Katsuki— god, like that, like that!” You babble until a particular stroke of his thumb has your body tightening and then shaking. Release covers his fingers and he yanks your pajama shorts off your body and throws them to the side.

“Good girl, that’s a good girl.” Thick fingers rub soothing circles over your pussy while he slides his shirt and pants off.

You feel his cock press against your folds and then his face is right above yours. He licks lazily into your mouth, hand coming up under your thighs to guide them around his back where your ankles cross over.

“Shit— y’so wet for me.” He mumbles between kisses and then links a hand with yours, pressing it into the mattress. “You want it? Want my cock?”

“Quit being a tease! Just give me your ohhh” You whimper and gasp, head throwing back and free hand coming to clutch at anything you can get your hands on.

He’s girthy and hot as he fills you up to the brim. There’s not a space untouched by his cock, making you feel so stuffed and out of breath you can hardly move.

“That’s it, you can take it.” He breathes into your mouth.

You slowly adjust to him and as soon as you relax, he pulls his hips back and thrusts. It makes you hiccup and lose your mind. The sheets are much too sweaty, AC be damned, and he looks like a literal god over you.

All tanned muscle and flushed cheeks. His pretty focused face scrunched up in determination not to cum immediately. You’re not sure how much you can take before you tear the sheets apart and scream.

He sets an even pace with his hips before propping your hips up a little and slowing down. It’s slow but it’s deep. His cock head touches something in you that has expletives leaving both your mouths as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-“ he desperately tries to keep hold of sanity. But you taste good, you smell good- better than any of his fantasies. Your pussy wraps around him in ways he couldn’t imagine. You’re really sprawled under him and moaning.

His cock is frothing near the base because of how wet you are, pussy juice and precum sliding between your ass cheeks and onto the bed. Your pink bedsheets are damp and one of your plushies has been thrown off the bed in the midst of your feverish mess.

It doesn’t last long. His face crumples as he cums and he rubs your clit and pussy until you squeeze down on him right after.

His jaw drops into a low “o” when he cums. You thank every lucky star for birth control while you both come down off a high. The two of you lay there and pant for a while before his cock slides out of you and he collapses onto your bed.

“Holy fuck.” Katsuki mutters to no one but himself. Half of him can’t believe it. He feels like icy hot with his back and forth his thoughts are, reeling and trying to take in what happened and what is happening.

“Yeah—“ you roll and press your chest against him. A kiss to his jaw makes his heart throb. “God that was good.”

A thick, beefy arm wraps around you and he hides his face in your neck. He sighs and pulls you in closer.

“I better not be readin’ this shit wrong but..” He mumbles, yanking up the blankets over the two of you. “We’re a thing now right?”

You snort and laugh for a minute.

“Yeah, duh, dummy” You smack his chest and roll your eyes.

The AC finally does it’s job at cooling the two of you off and he grumbles and gets a towel to clean you off. It only takes a few minutes before the two of you are back in pajamas and laying on top of a throw blanket. The massive comforter pulled over the two of you.

You flick on the TV and scroll through some of the go to shows before curling against him with a sigh. When you glance up, you notice a deep frown on his face and grumble.

“What are you looking so pissy for?” You place a peck on his jaw and turn your attention back to the screen.

His big hands run up and down your body, thumbs dragging over your hips. With a look of defeat and a pout, he admits, “Eiji’ bet me a hundred bucks you liked me back.”

That earns him a smack on the chest. “Don’t you dare tell him it’s cause I caught you beating off in my bathroom, Katsuki.”

#[ katsuki ]#i haven’t redone my tags just yet #sorry for another tag biscuit #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x yn #masterlist #bakugo katsuki smut

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