Tumgik
#smut is ok
Open Thread
Open to everyone - M/F
Relationship type - Friend, lover, spouse, colleague, ex partner.
Plot type - Drama, angst, smut with plot
Approved Kinks- Roleplay, objectication, breath play, knife play, BDSM, exhibitionism, scene play, dom and sub, sadism and machoism, edge play, CBT, impact play, rope bandage, fisting, pegging, orgasm control, dirty talk, nipple play, gags, praise kink, electrostimulation, whipping, wax play.
Plot - Luca has been secretly diagnosed with stomach cancer and he's decided that he's leaving SWAT and leaving LA, but he doesn't intend on telling anyone who is in his life. Convince him to stay and give him some hope because he may or may not get the treatment to fight it.
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Luca removed his bag from his locker and discreetly began removing the contents of his locker piece by piece so no one would notice, sighing softly as he jammed a few pictures into one of the pockets before zipping up the pocket. In a few weeks he would be gone and no one would know where he would end up because truthfully, he didn't know where he would end up. And since he was off the next day, he was planning on going home and getting shit faced drunk. Do drunk that he wouldn't be able to walk, talk or even think.
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bi-writes · 12 days
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thinking about being the new addition to tf141. you are an asset given to laswell by the CIA, a timid little thing but your aim is always on target, and you are quiet, tech savvy, and you do as you're told. (18+, dark)
just how lieutenant riley prefers. he dwarfs you. the first time you meet, your eyes nearly come out of your head from how wide they go. he's so large, and you feel so tiny compared to him, and even though he does nothing but a disinterested once over, it is obvious to the rest of the team that you might just be his favorite.
it's most obvious in the subtle touches. when you're getting ready to jump, ghost comes up from behind and tugs on your parachute, nearly topping you over making sure it's secure. when you're getting ready in the back of the humvee, he reaches over and buckles your thigh holster for you when he notices the strap is coming loose. you nearly choke when you feel his big hand between your thighs, and you stare up at him with wide eyes when his pinkie moves up the seam of your zipper when he tugs his hand away.
and then the way he's on your six is unlike anything else. like glue, chest pressed to your back, his gloved hand squeezing your waist as he moves you every which way he pleases because you're so small to him, so easy, and he growls under his breath when he touches the curve of your hips or the fat of your ass.
maybe you might enjoy it if he wasn't so fucking awkward about it. if he didn't stare at you without blinking. if he didn't adjust his cock in his jeans right in front of you. if he didn't grip you by the back of your head, tugging you any way he wanted as if scolding a kitten using the scruff of their neck.
you think the team would notice by now--that they would step in, tell ghost to back off, but they turn a blind eye. they tolerate this behavior, and you don't know if it's because ghost is so good at his job, they don't want to, or that they are so afraid of him, they refuse to say anything.
or maybe they approve. maybe it keeps ghost at bay. maybe it keeps a lion in his den. a spider in its nest. maybe indulging ghost in his fucked form of flirting and socialization is what keeps the foundations of this team right where it needs to be--and you realize, slowly, that maybe that is why you're here.
because ghost likes them soft, and they need to put a muzzle on their dog.
so when you feel him in the dark, slipping a gloved hand under the blanket that keeps you warm at night, he is pleasantly surprised to find you awake. and even more surprised to feel your hand slipping the soft lace of your panties right into his fucking pocket.
"they teach y'that 'n basic training? how ta give y'r knickers to y'r lieutenant, eh?"
"no," you whisper, and when you meet his eyes in the dark, he looks so hungry. he's untamed, no training, he's used to getting what he wants with no resistance. you turn over in bed, and you don't get to see the way he sucks on his teeth when you let your knees fall, revealing the pretty place between your thighs, soft and puffy and wet, just waiting for a good mutt to eat her up. "but i learned other things."
"tha' right?"
"yeah," you say softly, and you turn over onto your stomach, pushing back onto your knees right in front of him. he bends, leaning over until he's pushing his masked face right into the seam of your cunt, and you grip the sheets tight when he inhales deeply, a rumble following as both of his hands grip either side of your ass and spread you open for him. you're drooling, wetting the nylon fabric, and you gasp when you feel the wet, warm muscle of his tongue suck on your folds through the mask. it's lewd, and you're wetting the material so much it sticks to the strong lines of his face, but he continues, tilting his head to the side as he laps at the pretty slick that dampens your thighs.
"what'd y'learn then, swee'eart?"
not how to fuck your lieutenant. but...you did learn to keep them happy.
"h-how to be a good girl."
and you think you feel him smile.
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beomcoups · 9 months
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I got my iPad charged up so I am going to be reading some fics tonight... Send me recs
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tired-biscuit · 1 month
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18+ MDNI, fem!reader
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having this really specific — and kind of goofy — thought about getting a tiny rubber duck as like a joke gift for your boyfriend yuuji, and him making sure it’s turned around whenever you guys fuck in the shower.
you’re having a full blown make out session and the water is hot as it runs down you both — yes, you’re squeezed together that tightly. his pink hair is dripping wet, it sticks to his forehead, and his mouth has formed into this adorable ‘o’ shape as he pants and stammers and grunts from how good your touch feels as you stroke him.
he’s got one palm pressed against the tiles that you’re leaning against, the other one is cupping your pussy. his fingers lazily circle your clit as his tongue tangles with yours; the tips nudging your warm entrance every so often and gathering the sticky arousal there before it can be washed away by the water because he knows he won’t be able to push that fat cock of his into you otherwise when the time comes for it.
however, when that time does indeed come and you hint at getting slammed, yuuji is pulling back, his honey-coloured eyes suddenly open wide. he’s still breathing like he’s just ran a marathon instead of standing in the shower and his broad chest heaves up and down as he turns his head to the side in one sharp movement; right in the direction of the spot where you both keep your shampoo bottles.
“yuuji…? what’s wrong?” you ask, eyelids still heavy with lust. it makes your vision somewhat blurry.
“just a sec,” he rasps, searching amongst the bottles. “gotta make sure we don’t have an audience.”
“an audience?” you repeat.
“yep!” he says, popping the p. “i meant this little sucker right… here.”
after a little rummaging, he finds the thing he’s been looking for: a small rubber ducky that you’d gotten him months ago as a means to cheer him up after he’d had a particularly bad day.
you watch, brow quirked in quiet amusement, as he carefully flips it around then, making sure it remains in the same exact spot, but this time with its little beak turned towards the shower wall instead of you.
he treats it with such care, like it’s made out of gold instead of plain vinyl. knowing him, he probably does see it that way and it makes you huff a laugh.
he’s just so goddamn endearing, isn’t he?
seemingly pleased with his actions, yuuji swiftly focuses his attention back to you. he smiles that beaming lover boy grin that you feel weak in the knees for, and his hands are loving but firm as he grabs you by the hips, silently urging you to press your front against the tiles instead of your back.
“okay, your turn now.”
with how hard he is, something tells you he won’t treat you as gently as he did his present.
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wonderthor · 3 months
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being whiny and needy with choso
you were the one that woke up extremely horny and touched starved (this time), but being the sweetie pie that he is he let you ride him until you come.
but you can’t.
you’re whining and whimpering because you just can’t get there yet. speeding up, slowing down, moving your hips in so many different ways. none of it is working, but you need to come so bad!
“baby”, he calls out to you, and you look at him with a hint of frustrated tears in your eyes.
“baby, shh just relax for me okay? i got you, let me take care of it, yeah?”, he whispers as he cradles your cheek in his hand.
as soon as you nod, he grips your hips and lifts you up and down on his cock, rolling your hips back and forth in a way that instantly makes your mouth open wide and your head fall back. you brace yourself on his pecs and he momentarily takes one of his hands off of your hips, his other holding a tighter grip to compensate. you look down at him and see that he uses his free hand to pick up one of yours, kissing your palm with his eyes locked on you. then, he holds your hand as he picks up his pace.
your mind was empty as your eyes stayed on his, knowing nothing else but him. you barely were able to think about how strong he was to be able to pick you up and down over and over with only one hand. your orgasm had crept up on you without you even paying attention.
“cho, i’m…it-”
“i know baby, i know. give it to me, please?”
he kisses your knuckles before putting his hand back on your hip, fucking up into you and he pulls you up and down against him. you arch your back and burrow your nails into his chest, holding on tight. your eyes leaving his trance and going back into your skull.
“ohhh fuck!”
he lets one of his thumbs trail over to your clit, rubbing hard and fast.
“that’s it, that’s it baby. please, please give it to me. give it to me, give it to me,” he growled out through clenched teeth.
just that quickly, the coil snapped and you came all over his dick with a loud moan. the intensity of your orgasm spurred his and he came right behind you, filling you up. when you were tired of holding yourself up, he pulled you down to lay on his chest, rubbing your back as your breaths slowly calmed down in harmony.
it was just like that how you both fell asleep.
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nanaslutt · 3 months
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MDNI // NSFW
thinking about nanami…..
sitting behind you while you lay your back against his hard chest, his legs hooked over yours as he forces them to stay open while he pistons his thick fingers in and out of your pussy
loud squelches and drops of wetness spitting out from between you thighs as fat crocodile tears run down your cheeks. Nanami grips your throat harshly in his large hand, squeezing every so often to make you dizzy, your mouth falling open in a silent scream
“stop squirming, you can take it” Nanami whispers against your ear, followed by a harsh smack against your pussy after he abruptly yanks his fingers out before shoving them back in, continuing his brutal pace
“k-kento too- too much-“ you whine, your body shaking and jerking in his hold, trying to get him to ease up on you, but Nanami is having none of it
he removes his hand from your throat and presses it against your mouth shutting you up. he presses your head back against his shoulder roughly as your forced to look at the ceiling while his fingers abuse your g-spot rapidly, one merciless thrust after the other
“I said take it.” He groans, fed up with your complains. His cock is twitching so hard against the confines of his boxers as he feels finger fucks you, imagining how soft and warm you’re gonna feel around his cock when he’s done working you open
“cmon, squirt for me again and ill give you a break, my love” Nanami groans, pausing his thrusts to curl his counters rapidly against your gspot, making you cry out behind his hand, your whines muffled as you shake and shake and shake until-
a stream of clear liquid sprays out from your cunt, making Nanami groan in satisfaction as he begins pistoning his fingers in and out of you again, working you though your orgasm, getting your cum all over the bed sheets,
“good fucking girlll, good girl.” Nanami moans, his jaw slack as he watches you squirt for the second time all over him, his cock leaking pre-cum in his boxers. “proud of you honey, so proud.” he coos, pulling his fingers out of you as he wraps both arms around your torso, allowing you to breathe and whine freely now that your mouth is unobstructed again
“take a second and breathe before i have you squirt all over my cock.” Nanami whispers against your ear, the prospect of cumming again shaking you to your core but his deep voice vibrating through body sends a new wave of energy through you :3
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sombrashe · 2 months
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Gaz' porn search is just
Chubby girl porn
Chubby girlfriend porn
Eating chubby girlfriend out
Chubby girl x soldier porn
Chubby girl x strong guy porn
Fucking chubby girlfriend first time
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mysicklove · 7 months
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𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
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DAY 15: HYBRIDS
With: Megumi Fushiguro
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: Sub + cat hybrid! Megumi, AFAB + owner! reader but no pronouns, reader is implied to be smaller than him, vaginal penetration, creampie, slight breeding kink, birthcontrol mentioned and used, purring/licking/mewling, he calls you his "mate" and u tease him bout it, needy megumi,
A/N: i had alot of fun with this one tbh. but also I usually write gn! reader, so dealing with readers pleasure is so hard to write about lol. i am so used to only catering to what feels good to the character.
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Owning a cat was way easier than you thought it was going to be. Well, at least owning a cat hybrid was. Megumi, your adorable, slightly temperamental, and moody black cat has been living with you for about five years now, and you love him desperately.
He stays at home while you go off to work each day, but he never complains, instead just sleeps the day away. In fact, you tried introducing him to the neighbor’s hybrid, a lab named Yuuji as a playmate, but he blatantly refused, growing annoyed almost immediately at how upbeat the dog was. Megumi preferred silence, sunbathing, sleeping, and your full attention. He was okay being at home alone until you got back.
He currently lays on the carpet, curling up in the warmth of the light, and dozing off when he hears the sound of your keys working their way into the hole. His ears dart toward the noise, and a smile creeps up his face, but his eyes remain shut, and he pretends to be asleep.
You open the door and sigh, eyes darting around the apartment to find your cat. When you catch him on the floor sleeping, you smile, shutting the door behind you and setting your stuff down on the counter. You make your way over him, dropping to your knees, and then finally laying down next to him. 
You stare at his relaxed, content face, and begin to reach out to touch him affectionately. He grabs your hand before you make contact with his skin, and pulls it forward, pulling you into his chest. Then he wraps his arms around your boddy, intertwines the two of your legs, and nuzzles his face on top of your head, purring gently. 
“Hi Megumi,” You mumble against his chest. “You are so warm.”
He nods, tail swinging behind him. “Been in the sun all day,” He breathes, and you hum, curling up against him. “...Missed you,” Megumi whispers lowly, still rubbing his cheek against your head.
You chuckle at him. “Oh whose this? My Megumi would never say something so sappy,” You tease, pulling away to look up at him.
He pouts, ears falling flat on his head as he rolls his eyes. “Am I not allowed to miss my mate?” He complains, but licks a stripe up your hair, still purring. 
You groan when you feel his inhumane tongue lick your face. “Hey, stop it. No grooming, humans don’t do this.” You try to push him away, but he ignores you, wrapping his arms tighter around you and pulling you closer. 
His purrs grow louder when you finally give up, and you watch his tail swing back and forth from behind him. He licks at your face, and then your hair, and finally your neck. You shiver slightly, still not used to the attention even after all these years. “You stink,” Megumi mumbles into your neck, using his tongue to wipe away some of the gross scents that clung to you.
“You want me to take a shower?” 
He grips you harder, shaking his head into your skin. You feel his crotch press into your backside, and you raise your eyebrows, but don’t say anything. “S’fine. I don't like it when my mate smells like other men though.” He rubs his neck onto any surface he can, scent marking you as his.
You roll your eyes, but smile. He was being strangely affectionate today. Usually, it was you who has to initiate physical contact and doting words. “Just coworkers, possessive cat. What’s got you all worked up today?”
His hips move closer to yours, beginning to grind himself on you. “Wanna do it,” he whispers, so low that you could barely hear him. His cheeks pinken, but you can't see them, so you cant tease him about it.
You move your hips backward, meeting him halfway. He lets out an airy breath onto the back of your neck, and you shiver at the feeling. “Yeah? You haven’t been thinking about it all day, have you?”
He feels his cheeks begin to burn. “Shut up.” A definite yes. His semi-hard cock continues to grind on your clothes, and you sigh at the feeling. You quickly manevour yourself to turn to look at him, and he pouts slightly, ears drooping, from the loss of stimulation. You roll your eyes with a grin, and tug at his pants. “Right now? H-Here?” He stutters, but helps you pull down his pants, obviously not too against the idea.
“Don’t get so nervous on me now. What happened to my brave cat who was basically grinding himself on me just a couple seconds ago?” You tease, kissing at his neck and pulling a small mewl from him. He gulps, baring his neck slightly to let you plant more kisses on it. He grips onto the back of your head with shaky hands, encouraging the action.
You slip your hands into his boxers and he gasps, mouth hanging slightly open and eyes squeezing shut from the attention. You pull it out, and then proceed to pull your pants down. “Hurry,” He demands, tilting your head up to kiss you. 
It's a desperate sort of kiss, both of his hands cup your face and bring you impossibly closer to him. It makes it harder to remove your clothing, and you can feel him begin to grind onto your stomach. 
You are forced to pull away to unbutton your pants, and he whines in complaint. “Such a spoiled brat,” You tease affectionately, “Cant go one minute without being touched? Are all kitties this needy?”
He looks away from you, pouting again, but you just giggle and kiss his jaw, finally removing your panties. “Don’t know. Don’t wanna think bout it. Do you not like when I am needy?”
He holds back a smug smile, knowing that this will definitely give him brownie points. He is right of course, because the next second you are littering his face and neck with kisses, while he purrs, soaking all the attention up. “Of course not. You are so cute needy.” 
He nods, smart enough to know that an argument will break out if he doesn't. So he smiles contently, melting under you and your soft touches. Finally, you grab his cock and press it against your entrance. Megumis mouth waters at the feeling, the warm welcoming sensation of your folds. 
“Do you…uh…Don't you need to be prepp–oh fuck,” He groans, throwing his head back as you sink onto his cock without much hesitation. You sigh into his chest, adjusting to his length — he was slightly bigger than adverage, and every time you take it, it always feels like a stretch, but it was an addicting sensation.
The two of you turn to where he lays on his back, and you on top of him, chest to chest. He grabs at your hips, hands shaking as he restrains himself from moving you up and down on his length. His eyes are screwed shut and his ears are pinned to his head. “Hey, relax. Why are you so tense? It’s okay for you to move, sweetheart.”
He heaves a sigh of relief, and nods, while you bring your hands up to pet his ears. He leans into the touch, purrs increasing in volume as he lifts your hips up and back down. He repeats the motion a couple of time, pants getting louder and half lidded eyes peering down at you. You in return have your own blush, its softer than his, but definitely noticeable. “I…Can I…Fuck this is so–Can I thrust…into you?”
He fumes red, and he turns his face into the carpet, embarrassed by his lewd words. Even after all this time, he is unbelievably shy, and can never voice what he wants in bed. “So polite! Must of trained you well.” He nods, ears flickering to you at your sweet words. “Of course, kitty. Dont gotta ask, ‘m all yours.”
Immediately he wraps his arms around you, pinning you to his chest, and begins to thrust upward. Your eyes widen slightly at his pace, and the roughness of it all, and you groan into his skin. He moans at the feeling, breath heavy, matching his pace. “Oh fuck. This. This I was–fuckkk—waiting for this all day!”
You pant into his chest, a smile pulling at your lips. “Y-Yeah?” You encourage, and he nods with a hum. Loud slapping of skin on skin fills the room, and his tail reaches up to wrap around your wrist. His cheeks are stained a permanent pink, and his chest rises and falls quickly with every pant. 
You managed to shakily reach up to his ears, grabbing the both of them and giving them a small tug. He yelps slightly, back arching, but then moans into the touch. It was cute, he was super temperamental about the black ears. On some days he wanted you to pet and rub them, on others he wanted you to pull and abuse the sensitive areas. Today was the latter.
“Was–Was fucking my hand thinking bout you. Not as good. My mate is so warm,” His voice vibrates with a purr, and you chuckle at him above the lewd noises. It was endearing to watch his body succumb to pleasure. His voice always held a purr, but he still managed to make every human like sound with the addition to the vibration.
Eventually he flips the two of you over, his arms caging you in under him, as he licks and kisses your neck. “Mhmmm. Mine, mine, my mate. Love you. Love you so much,” He chants into your ear, biting at the lobe while continuing to thrust into you at a merciless pace.
“S-So talkative today,” You mumble, gripping onto the carpet at a particularly harsh thrust. Usually, you were the one leading the dirty talk. He whimpers at the words, pressing his entire body on top of yours. He liked to be touching, and as much skin as he could, the better, but of course he would never admit that outloud. 
“Dont know why. Just missed you. Fuck I missed you. Why do you leave for so long?” He complains between breaths, his voice holding a dramatic whine to it. He nuzzles his face into your neck, scenting the area while you reach back and scratch his ears. “Why–Why…Hah.. Can’t you stay here with me? Th-Thought you loved me.”
He was being unreasonable and the both of you knew it, but today he was being weirdly sappy and clingy, so you didn’t mind having to reassure him. “Love you so much. You know why.” You feel his teeth graze into your skin, and he probably has his ears pinned back. “Ill try to work from home more, how does that sound?”
He nods, mewling happily to himself. Then he goes back to panting into your skin, licking and biting any surface he can lay his mouth on. You dont try to stop him, knowing if you do, he will probably get all pouty.
“Can I cum? P-Please? Been good, right?” He hasn’t really, other than the sweet words he has let out, he has not be gentle at all. You will probably be stumbling by tomorrow. His pace is desperate, frantic even, that makes you begin to lose your mind.
But he was feeling good, and your thoughts were draining anyways. “Sure, love, I’m c-close too,” You sigh, closing your eyes and pressing your face against the carpet as you begin to feel that tightening feeling build up.
He gulps and nods, kissing your cheek. “Inside? Please?” His words come out as a whisper, obviously hesitant about the question. He has been day dreaming about this for weeks, to finally cum inside you, but never mustered up the courage to ask. Today, he was feeling good, and you seemed to be happy at his behavior, so it was the best time to ask.
Your orgasm hits you out of the blue, and you are left trembling on the floor. Your eyes roll back slightly and you heave, “S’fine Megumi. J-Just cum!” You were on birthcontrol, it was okay just this once. Your thoughts were scrambled from the intensity of your orgasm.
His pace picks up again and you shiver at the feeling, while he lets out low mewls and purrs, happy at your choice. “Im cumming. Thank you, thank you,” He mumbles into your ear, and then latches onto your neck as he shoves himself as deep inside of you as possible, and cums.
He throws his head back and groans, arms trembling. It feels so much better than cumming inside a condom or pulling out. You are so warm, and the idea of the possibility of him breeding you, leaves him shivering with glee. He would never tell you this of course, you would most definitely call him a perv or an animal.
He collapses on top of you, practically glowing, and purring happily from above. He flips the two of you over so that you are back on his chest, peering up at him. His face is damp with sweat, and his cheeks are flushed pink, but he wears a small, content smile. 
You feel cum begin to ooze out of you and you groan. “Ugh, now I definitely need a shower.” He cringes at the words, and you laugh. “Can’t believe you hate water, you are such a sterotypical cat.” He frowns, and rolls his eyes, not responding, because you are completely right.
“Aw cmon, mate, dont get all pouty now,” You tease, and his eyes flash to you in an instant. His cheeks turn a vicious red, and he covers his face with his hand,
“...Call me that again,” Megumi whispers, so low that you could barely hear him.
You raise your eyebrows, cocking your head to the side. “My mate?”
He begins to purr again, hands wrapping around your back to pull you up closer to him. He leans in, and hesitantly presses his lips to yours, pulling back slightly to mumble, “'m hard again.”
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choccy-milky · 25 days
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MC doing what we all wished we could do (aka napping on the floor with ominis )😴💕
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yanderemommabean · 2 months
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Alphas who are pussy addicted. They have to be muzzled when walking downtown with their mate to prevent them from just hitting their knees and stealing a taste. Alphas who steal stale and dirty underwear just to wetly suck their mates' taste from the fabric while lazily stroking their cocks, whimpering because they want it from the source but are so desperate this is all they can get. 
Alphas who go into such a puppy mode when they can finally, finally get their mouth on their mate (it's been hours and that feels like days!) and just bury their face as close as they can, inhaling their scent, groaning deep in satisfaction and relief, growling in irritation when their mate tries to leave (even if just trying to get more comfortable!) 
Alphas who suck, slurp, drink and gulp down everything their mate has to give them, knotting in their own underwear and staining the cloth with load after load of cum, face covered in slick and spit, but they cannot get enough, needing to get their tongue inside as deep as possible or to suck on their mates cock / clit like it's their only life line, sounding like an animal and uncaring how much their partner aches and begs for a break. They need this! They have to have this! It’s not their fault their mate is amazing and makes them crazy! 
Just some good omegaverse ramblings <3 
-Mommabean (Please tell me your thoughts!)
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Open Thread with Dominique Luca
Open to F/M (mutuals and non mutuals welcome)
Connection - Wife/ Husband, Friend, girlfriend/boyfriend, work colleague, lover, friend with benefits, anything you like
Plot- Luca hadn't been doing well for a while, his mental health had been slipping after being in hospital for several months after being hit with a truck when saving a child. But unfortunately the child died and Luca feels guilty, which has impacted his mental health.
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Luca sat on his bed with his reserve firearm in his hands, trying to figure out if he had the balls to pull the trigger. There had been several attempts where he had stuck the barrel in his mouth, but he had broken down each time during the panic attack where he didn't pull the trigger. He raised the gun to his mouth and sucked in a deep breath, completely unaware that someone had let themselves into his apartment..
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seventeenpins · 2 months
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a slight miscalculation - pt. i
pairing: Joel x F!Reader
word count: 8.3k
summary: Sarah is off to college, and Joel is about to be living in an empty nest. They road trip out together, and as she spends her first night in her new apartment, he's staying in a nearby hotel. Letting go of his inhibitions for the first time in a long time, he tumbles into a one night stand that becomes very complicated, very quickly.
content/warnings: smut, age gap, mycologist!reader, dick sucking, implied pussy eating, fingering, no outbreak au, reader likes to hike, reader also infodumps, joel miller has a big cock, he also has anxiety, reader has anxiety too, and a cat, reader is in early 20s--exact age not established, one (1) use of daddy, alcohol and weed consumption, joel is a diligent condom wearer, set in present day, discussion of girl scout cookies, joel is sweet and soft and hasn't been eviscerated by the death of his daughter
a/n: I'm intending this to be about five parts. This may change, but right now it's looking like five. I've been struggling to write for a while, unable to focus, but I think I'm back at it? as always, your feedback is hugely appreciated, and i'm kissing all likers and commenters and rebloggers deeply and with tongue 🩷
check out pt. ii
For the first time in nineteen years, Joel is completely adrift. Sarah's starting college in just two months.
It's the kind of realization that hits him like a bucket of ice water, a sudden shock and then an unpleasant trickling of anxiety wrapping about him in nasty tendrils. And then he feels guilty, because he's so, so happy for Sarah because he knows that she's thrilled, but fuck she's gonna be two time zones away and now what's Joel meant to do on Thursday movie nights when he's here without her?
It's terrifying, and it's new. And it's not that he's new to anxiety. He's usually anxious, and he has the Sertraline on his bedside stand to prove it. But if his general anxiety baseline usually hovered around a 6.4, where he was at now far surpassed a 10. It felt exponential, and totally exhausting.
When he voices his fears to Tommy, to Joel's horror, Tommy just doubles over in laughter.
"Jesus, Joel," he wheezes, wiping fake tears from his eyes in exaggerated movements, "You looked so serious I thought you were gonna say you'd killed someone."
Joel scowls. "The fuck you laughing for?"
"She's going to college, it's not like she's dying!"
"How'm I gonna be there for her? What if she needs me? What if-"
"Joel-," Tommy pats him gently on the shoulder, "She can always call you, and you can always call her. And we both know she's got a good head on 'er shoulders."
Joel snorts in concession. "Yeah, yeah. Better than yours and mine put together, and then some."
"Exactly." Tommy agrees, "And if there's ever anything that really goes wrong, you got me. We can drive out together and make sure she's okay."
Joel nods and feels the tiniest bit of tension leave him. One step at a time.
Just over nineteen years ago he found out he was about to be a dad. Suddenly, he had a purpose. Having a kid at twenty-two wasn't something he'd ever intended, but somehow he knew he loved his baby girl from the moment he knew she was a possibility. He spent a solid seven months running around, hustling, doing everything he could to get the very best for his kid. He'd take on doubles, working himself to the bone to make sure they had the best crib, and the best stroller, too. He was thrilled and terrified and so, so green.
Now, his heart feels so big he doesn't know how to handle it. His baby girl is an honest-to-god adult, moving out and going to college, and he has no idea what he's gonna do with his time now.
He has work, of course. But beyond that? He's really gotta to widen his circle, he realises, because who's he gonna hang out with? His brother?
He'd only just turned forty-one and had absolutely not come to terms with an empty nest--the few friends from high school he'd kept in touch with were so much further behind than him. The ones that had kids had them later in their twenties and thirties, and now they're raising middle schoolers while Joel's kid is a real fucking person, leaving home and everything. All the scrapping and saving he'd been doing since before Sarah was born–for his little girl to be able to follow any dream she chose–it was finally paying off. The precocious young woman she is, she graduated early and spent nearly a year working retail to save up some cash. She'd applied to colleges all across the country, and a few international ones, too. Joel had been crossing his fingers for months, hoping she'd choose something near Austin, but cheered with her all the same when she got her acceptance letter from Oregon State University. The previous summer, just before she'd started her applications, she and Joel and Tommy spent a miserable, wonderful week hiking round the Pacific Northwest. She fell in love with it, and the university offered a few of the majors she wanted to consider.
Joel didn't know what he'd do with his baby girl so far away, his life, his reason, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell her that. He will not clip her wings. His baby's gonna change the world and he's not gonna hold her back. He is, though, gonna require regular phone calls and check-ins and god they grow up so fast.
"Y'all should road trip out there," Tommy suggests one night over the dinner table.
Joel knew the conversation of how Sarah would get to the West Coast would come up, and it oughta be sooner rather than later. He was half afraid that she wanted to head out on her own, that she didn't need her dad anymore. Worried she would say she wanted to get a plane ticket, or take the Amtrak all the way to Corvallis. But he knows he needs to loosen his grip a little, so he braces himself when he turns to her.
"What'dya think, Sarah? You wanna be stuck in a car with your old man for a cross-country trip?"
Sarah rolls her eyes, but her face breaks into a grin. "Can we, Dad?"
This was too good to be true, he knew, but he wasn't gonna give up one last opportunity to spend some time with his girl till winter break.
"Course, baby," he tells her, and that flicker of anxiety quells just the tiniest bit.
The next few weeks fly by, and the knot of anxiety in Joel's chest feels like it's consuming him from the inside out. He's taken some time off, more than Sarah or Tommy can remember, but he's constantly trying to suggest ideas for activities to Sarah. For the most part, she's a good sport, understanding how much it means to her dad. She took pity on him, and let him drag her to places that ideally she would've gone to when she was little, but she humored him and he appreciated her dedication. He did his best to step back when she was heading out to spend time with friends--her time here was limited, after all, and she was always a social butterfly.
There are five weeks till classes start, four weeks, three, two, and in the blink of an eye, they're loading up the truck with all of Sarah's things, and Tommy is hugging Sarah goodbye, teary eyed. He gives Joel a hug, too. Joel would never admit it, but fuck he had really needed that hug.
They would take the scenic route. Make a memorable trip of it. Joel would make sure she settles in safe and sound, and then he'd head home.
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6am Sunday.
You wake with a start. It's just over a week before term starts and your entire body aches. Fuck, you think to yourself, definitely overdid it with that last hike.
(The hiking part wasn't itself a problem, but one of the trails had washed out. You thought you'd found your way, but the "easy" three and a half mile hike took about five hours, leaving your calves bruised and your heels blistered.)
You roll over in your hotel room bed and, at the sound of a slight yelp followed by a gentle thud, realise with a sudden start that you just catapulted your cat off the corner.
"Shit, sorry goblin," you tell Spatula, who glares up at you with disdain as he licks at his paw. You reach down and, despite your inadvertent cat launch, he immediately rubs up against your fingertips and lets you scratch behind his ears.
"I'm sorry, baby," you soothe.
He meows, loudly. Howls, really. You take it as an apology accepted.
You sit up properly and look at your phone calendar. Nothing immediate. You don't need to get keys to your new apartment till tomorrow, nor do you meet your roommates till then–they're both moving in today, and moving is already horrible without having to navigate around the belongings of two other people. No, thanks. You can afford one more night at the hotel, and it'll make everything go that little bit more smoothly tomorrow. Besides, you have a bit of reading you'd like to get through, maybe stock up on non-perishables till you have a full-sized fridge, and get to know the city just a little.
You move gingerly, testing the ache in your muscles as you unfold yourself from the position you've been sat in and pull yourself from the bed. It hurts, but not something that won't be fixed with a little movement.
A plan forms. First, a walk, to try and loosen up your tight muscles. Then, errands. You have a whole list, with everything categorised by store, but then you enter IKEA and exit fifteen minutes later, only to find that five and a half hours have passed and it's evening now.
How was it that IKEA harnessed such a malicious power. How could anything harness that?
You need a fucking break. And a goddamn drink.
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"Hey Dad," Sarah calls from the adjacent bedroom as Joel sweats, hauling another box towards her. The drive has been good, but it has been long. His legs ache. His back aches. There are parts of him that he didn't know existed that now ache.
"Yeah?" he calls back.
"Are you sure you're okay with me staying here tonight?"
Joel lets out a breath. He wants to be okay with it. And there's no way his nineteen year old would want to hang out with her dad when she could be spending the very first night in her brand new apartment. But he also wishes she wanted to spend one last night, hanging out in a hotel room with her dad. They could watch shitty movies together. Make the most of the final night before this cataclysmic shift.
But no.
That'd just be him being selfish. He can handle a night by himself. He's gotta handle a whole lotta them soon enough.
"O'course baby," he nods, hoping the smile he's plastered on his face looks totally genuine. "But we're still doin' breakfast in the morning, right?"
She nods, vigorous, and then waves her phone around. "I was looking up places! There's a diner called Tommy's," she laughs, "Wanna try that? 9:30?"
"Let's do it," he smiles, and this one is a little less forced.
"How much more do we have?" Sarah asks, nodding towards the box Joel's still holding.
"Last box," he grunts, "What else can I help with?"
He places the box down and lets out a slight, almost silent whimper. Sarah catches it, though.
"Maybe you should take it easy the rest of the day, Dad," she tells him, "We both know you have old man back."
He rolls his eyes but nods. "Guess you're right," he shrugs, "That my cue to take off?"
Sarah blushes but turns to him sheepishly. "Yeah, I-"
"No need to explain," Joel assures, "I know you must wanna get unpacked and settle in, get to know your roommates an' all."
She jumps up and, almost startling him, wraps her arms around him in a bear hug.
"Love you, dad," she grins, and she squeezes just a little tighter than usual.
He squeezes back, and they both pretend there aren't tears in his eyes.
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As you step through the doors of the hotel bar, you decide you like it. The lighting is comfortably low. It's not loud, but it's not quiet, either. Colorful bottles line the shelves, the light of the filament bulbs glinting off the glass in rainbow prisms.
You take a seat at the bar and give a nod of thanks as the bartender passes you a small menu. It's unsurprisingly extortionate, hotel bar and all, but it'll do.
"Old fashioned, please," you tell the bartender, who nods in response. A minute later, he hands you a glass, delivered with a twist of orange and a cherry on top.
With your first sip, you feel your shoulders start to relax and some of the tension loosen from your body. The warmth of the burn envelops you and your stress starts to unravel, leaving only the buzz feeling good.
You order a second, and as the glass is handed to you, a voice to your right catches your attention.
"This seat taken?" a man asks.
You shake your head and offer a quick smile, gesturing towards it, "All yours."
"Much obliged," he nods, and slips into the backless stool next to yours.
The bartender comes over and passes him the same menu, but without looking at it he asks, "Could I get an old fashioned?"
You smile and catch his eye, tipping your glass towards him. "An excellent choice," you praise, "Though if you don't have a sweet tooth, I'd recommend asking Jeff there if he can go easy on the simple syrup."
"Oh yeah?" He asks, and then he leans in conspiratorially. "T'tell you the truth, I do have a bit of a sweet tooth."
You raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
Suddenly, he breaks into a grin and it's dazzling.
"Yeah," he laughs, "I've got cookies stashed in secret locations all through my house."
You raise an eyebrow. "If I keep 'em in my pantry, my brother'll find 'em and eat 'em all," he explains, "But ever since my kid was a girl scout, I always get cravings for girl scout cookies, so I buy an armful o'boxes and try and preserve 'em throughout the year, till I can replenish."
"What's your favorite girl scout cookie?"
"Caramel deLites, hands down."
"Oh yeah?"
"Absolutely," he nods.
The bartender, Jeff, sets the man's drink down with a clink. You catch one another's eye and both erupt into a fit of laughter.
You're not even sure what's funny. Maybe it's just been a long day? Maybe the whiskey was getting to you?
Whatever it is, it feels good.
The man takes a sip of his drink and lets out an aaaahh and it's goofy and charming and then he extends his hand.
"Joel," he tells you, "Joel Miller". You shake his hand, introduce yourself, and then take a sip of your own drink.
"So, tell me about yourself," you smile, "You coming from out of town?"
"Yes ma'am," he nods, "Come up here from Austin."
"Texas?"
Joel nods.
"That's a long trip."
"Yeah," he laughs, "It really is."
"So, you're a nice Southern boy, huh?"
"Well," he swishes his glass and tries to bite back a smile, "I don't know that I'd go quite so far, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman."
"That so?" you ask and his blush deepens.
"I... have been known to get up to some trouble, but I like to think I've mellowed in my old age." He gestures at the beautiful little smatterings of silver at his temples, and you cackle.
"Okay, that's hot," you tell him and he chokes, but you keep going, "Old age, though? What are you, like, forty?"
He exhales, chagrined. "Forty-one."
You roll your eyes. "That ain't old."
"It feels it sometimes," he smiles, "My kid is grown. My little brother's married with a kid of his own on the way. My back hurts, pretty much all the time."
You snort. You also notice, without trying to look, that he doesn't have a wedding band. Doesn't have a tan line for one, either. Interesting.
"But more than that," he continues, "I guess I feel- I don't know. A little... aimless?"
"Yeah," you nod, and you let the moment sit. "I get that."
He lets out a little breath, and then turns back to you, focused.
"What about you? Where're you from?"
"Oof," you exhale, "All over. Spent a bit of time on the East coast. The Midwest. Lived a few months in the South, even," you tease as you bump your shoulder into his and he laughs. It's a surprisingly familiar gesture, but miraculously comfortable.
"Ever make it to Texas?"
"Naw," you shake your head, "My time in the South was all in Mississippi. After that I moved out to California, and I've been slowly working my way up the West Coast."
"And what have you been enjoying about the West Coast?" Joel asks.
"The mushrooms," you grin, and Joel frowns.
"Like, the kind you get in a little baggy from the dealer down the street, or-?"
"No," you laugh, "Or, well- Okay, sometimes. Gotta say it is great out here for that, too. But I mean fungus as a whole--mushrooms, mold, yeast, lichen. But I'm most interested in mushrooms. They're just really fuckin' cool, and there's so much we don't understand about them. And, they're delicious."
"Huh," Joel ponders, "T'tell you the truth, I've never thought much about mushrooms, besides enjoying 'em as a pizza topping."
"Most people don't," you agree, "But fuck, like-- Okay, so we know there are over five million types of fungi on Earth, but we've identified less than two percent of them. Some fungus aids decomposition. Some fungus is bioluminescent. Some are known worldwide for their delicious flavours, and others are known by the slow, horrible ways they kill you."
Joel raises his eyebrows, and suddenly you feel a little self conscious.
"Sorry, I do this," you laugh, rubbing at the back of your neck, "I get very excited about fungus and manage to alienate everyone around me."
You half expect him to stand up and walk away.
Instead, though, he leans in closer. "Don't apologise," he tells you, "I'm learning something new. Tell me more?"
"No, I should stop. Otherwise I'll never stop talking," you wince.
"How about just one more fungus fact?"
You sit for a minute, pondering. "This is- well, I guess this is one of the reasons I find fungus so fascinating. So, fungus can't photosynthesise the way that plants do--they can't produce their own food from sunshine, and water, and carbon dioxide. Instead, their mycelium-- they're these thread-like networks--they branch out beneath the earth, seeking out food, growing in the direction where it can find the nutrients it needs and breaking down organic material all around them, sometimes living organisms, as a parasite, and sometimes dead organisms as a decomposer, or both. And it's just- It's this hidden world, that exists right beneath the surface even in some of the extreme places on earth, temperature-wise. And most days, we don't even think about it."
You punctuate your thought with a large swallow of your drink, which is half-watered down now that the ice is melted, and doesn't hit quite as hard as you'd hoped, but then you look up at Joel and he's smiling at you, pensive, and--
"That's- That's actually really interesting."
Before you can respond, though, Joel glances at his watch and balks. It is getting late. "Shit," he shakes his head, "I think I oughta call it a night," he says, pulling back. "Early morning tomorrow, and if I stay at the bar I'll just keep drinkin'."
Fuck. That's a dismissal. Of course you went on too much about mushrooms. You'd fucked this up. You'd thought this was going well, but now it felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. "Oh," you nod, matching his posture, and try to swallow down the sudden wave of disappointment. "Of course. Have a good night, Joel."
Joel stands up and then looks you up and down, considering. It's not brazen, but it isn't shy, either. And then understanding flashes across his face.
"Wait- Sorry, that's not how I meant it." He reaches out towards you and you melt into his touch. "I'm messin' this up." He chuckles, but it sounds pained. "Now look, I don't wanna make any presumptions. And I'm really hopin' I'm not coming off as some--dirty old man. Jesus, I haven't done this in a while. But I'm in room 308."
Your eyebrows shoot up. What you'd taken for disinterest was just--nerves?
"I reckon I'll be awake for a while yet. You're welcome to... drop by."
The disappointment melts, making way for a fluttering in your stomach.
"Twenty minutes," you assure him, "308?"
He nods and he brakes into a sheepish grin, shedding what you now realise had been something of an anxious wince. "308."
You watch him leave. When he's out of sight, you toss back the rest of your watery drink and go to pay your tab, but Jeff tells you it was already settled. You thank him and tuck your shaking hands in your pockets. You feel an electricity running through you as you take the elevator up.
When you get back to your room, you hop into the shower, just to freshen up--you keep your hair dry but scrub your body. Once you're clean, you brush your teeth.
Stepping back out of the en suite, you survey the hotel room. Spatula is lounging on the corner of the bed, entirely uninterested in your movements. You top up his dry food bowl and place a kiss between his ears before slipping out.
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When you knock at Joel's door, you hear a slight rustle and clatter and then the door swings open, Joel's staring a little wide-eyed, like he didn't actually expect you to show. He's wearing grey sweats and a Johnny Cash t-shirt that looks like it's been around nearly as long as you have. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, an anxious tell that's desperately endearing.
"C'mon in," he smiles, and you step in, closing the door behind you.
You reach out to cup his face, delighting in the feeling of coarse stubble beneath your fingertips. Your first kiss is chaste. You both lean forward and press your lips to one another gently, exploring.
Then, you let out a little moan and Joel shudders. Heat surges between you, and his hands are cradling your head and brushing your cheek and he's pinning you against the closed door. You're kissing again, nothing chaste remaining, learning the taste of him, his rhythm, the crashing waves of give and take between you.
You wrap one leg around him and smirk when he lets out a throaty groan as you grind against his hard cock. You're pretty sure he's not wearing underwear, the thick bulge seemingly unconstrained in his grey sweats, the whole length pressing against your thigh.
Your head falls back and you let out soft, breathy noises as his lips trace along your collarbone, up your throat, and against that tender little spot behind your ear. When he puts your earlobe between his lips and presses his teeth gently against the skin, your knees go weak and he chuckles, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you up.
"Bed?" he asks, and you breathe yes and then, with a yelp and a throaty chuckle, you're lifted up and spun around and both tumbling into the duvet.
You're grasping at each other, desperate to keep your hands on one another. The only times you part is when you undress, and even then, you're helping each other--pulling the hem of his shirt over his lifted arms, pressing into him as he reaches around and moves to unhook your bra, but then he realises you're not wearing one and lets out a groan, his thumbs brushing alongside the tender skin along your ribs, moving gently as if to cup your breasts, but then he pulls back.
Normally you might wait, do this part slowly, draw out the tease just a little bit longer.
Tonight, though, you're ravenous.
As you fiddle with the buttons of your pants, you tug at the drawstring keeping Joel's sweats on his hips. The bow comes loose in one smooth motion, and he lifts his hips and you pull the sweats down.
Your mouth immediately waters seeing him bare, laid out for you. You watch a bead of precum drip down the head and pool on his belly. The coarse hair of his happy trail glistens with it. He's thick, uncut, and looks painfully hard, his cock head ruddy. "Fuck, you're beautiful," you tell him, and his cheeks redden but he grins. It's boyish, the way he grins, and devastatingly charming.
And, what you're saying is true. His body is gorgeous, something you wish you could sketch. Soft flesh over hard muscle, visible tan lines where his chest and shoulders are noticeably lighter than his arms. The muscles and veins along his throat are driving you absolutely fucking insane as he swallows and looks up at you.
He's got freckles on his shoulders, too, and without thinking, you lower yourself down to kiss at his shoulder. He shakes, just a little, and lets out the most beautiful gasp. It's addictive, pulling these noises from him. You follow the curve of him, giving him a taste of his own medicine--tracing feather-light kisses along his collarbone, up the tendons of his neck, behind his ear. You can feel the blood pulse in his veins as your lips brush along him. Joel goes from panting lightly to full on groaning, rutting his hips up towards you and, frustrated, meeting only air.
"Can I taste you?", you ask, and Joel lets out a half-strangled sound and nods, vigorous.
You scoot back, lower yourself, poke out your tongue and, without any preamble, lick at the slit of his head, tasting the salty, tangy precum.
Joel tips his head back and groans and you decide to be kind. You grasp onto his hips and take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down, inch by inch by inch and now you can feel him at the back of your throat, your saliva dripping down the shaft and collecting in the hair between his thighs.
You bob your head up and down, taking him deeper with each thrust, but your throat is full and there are still inches to go. You relax, doing everything you can to take him deeper, and he starts to thrust up gently.
You let him fuck into your mouth but release one of his hips, allowing him to move as freely as he needs and freeing up your hand, which you shove into your underwear, rubbing furiously at your clit.
It doesn't take much to lose yourself in it, to focus only on the sensation. You're so wet, slick coating your fingers, making the glide that much smoother as you touch yourself. Joel tastes so good, too, the intrusion of his cock the most delicious thing, feeling the way he shudders when you moan, the way he moans when you shudder.
"Fuck-" Joel gasps, and then there's a hand guiding you gently off of him.
You raise an eyebrow. "You okay?"
He swallows, hard, and nods. "More than okay. Felt too fuckin' good."
"Oh yeah?" and you lean down, as if to take him back in your mouth, but he chuckles and pulls you back again.
"It's been... a while. For me. And-" He drags his palm down his face, wearing an almost pained expression. "Christ, you just look too fuckin' good down there, mouth stretched 'round me while you touch yourself. An' it feels too fuckin' good, too. I ain't ready for this to be over yet but if you keep lettin' me fuck your throat like that it's gonna be over real quick. And I wanna feel that pretty pussy myself."
You sit back up and he pulls you towards him so you're straddling him.
"You gonna fuck me, Joel?"
"Yes," he breathes, "Yes, baby, please-"
You do an awkward wobble and then stand up, shedding your pants and letting your panties drop, stepping out of them, one foot and then the other, and the way he's watching you is addictive. He watches you with beautiful eyes, drinking all of you in, and suddenly the moment has changed into one of those quiet, intimate moments where you both exhale a laugh.
You straddle him again, and lean down to kiss him, and the electric current surges up. He grabs you by the jaw, meeting your desperation. His lips on yours are exactly the balm you need and you can taste the whiskey on his breath.
"Feels fucking good," you tell Joel as you slide up and down his length. He's not penetrating you, not yet, but the lips of your pussy are spread and you're gliding along him, feeling his head at your clit and thrusting back till you're nearly seated on his balls.
He watches you, nearly unblinking, drinking it all in. Then, he lets out a groan, and half-sits up, suddenly focused.
"Shit," he closes his eyes in frustration, "I don't have any condoms. Shit shit shit-"
You push him back down and kiss him again. Then, you hop off the bed and sift around in your jean pockets.
"Ah-ha!," you exclaim, once you've found your treasure. Joel raises and eyebrow and you wink. "Saw they were selling them in the lobby. Figured it might be a good idea."
"Shit," Joel laughs, and presses his lips just to the side of your mouth. "Clever girl," he tells you, and a shiver goes up your spine.
He leans to help, but you shoo him away and he watches, entranced, as you neatly open the condom wrapper and, with a small amount of difficulty, roll it down his cock.
"Feeling okay?" You ask him, "Shit, I shoulda gotten the Magnums. Is your dick okay? It's not being choked to death by an inappropriately sized rubber, is it?"
Joel snorts. "We'll manage," he says, and then he grips you by the hips, lines himself up. He draws his knuckles along your cunt and groans, "Fuck, so goddamn wet for me-" and, the moment you look at him and nod, he holds the head of his cock against your drooling lips and presses into you.
It's a big stretch as he lowers you down onto him, the intrusion almost painful, but before you can even take a breath, it melts into absolute pleasure. You've fucked people with longer cocks before, and you've fucked people with girthier cocks before, but never have you fucked someone with a cock that's both this long and thick and it feels like you're being split in two and it's perfect and you realise, with a sudden flip of your stomach, he isn't even fully seated inside you yet.
Then, you manage to focus on the words Joel is saying-that had really just been background noise for the past ten seconds or so-and suddenly you're tuning back in for "Tha's it," his voice low and hoarse, surprisingly gentle, "Good girl, takin' this cock so well, look at you."
His brow is furrowed and he's looking at you with such dark eyes, nearly black, the pupils are so blown. "Just a little more, that's it, just one more inch, you can do it, christ, look at you, takin' all of me."
His tone is reverent and it sets a fire through you. You can feel more slickness build and drip out of you, and from the way he moans, you're certain he can feel it too despite the condom.
"So fuckin' wet," he groans, "Soakin' my cock- grippin' me so nice-Fuck--"
He leans towards you and cradles your head in his hand, kissing you hard.
When you both pull back, you know your lips must be kiss swollen and red. His are--they're soft and bright, and you want to eat him whole.
"You're gonna be the death of me, woman."
He's thrusting into you lazily, holding you in place, but you need more, you need all of him.
You push forward and move his hand from your waist to your clit. As you manoeuvre him, his nostrils flare, and you'd wonder if he was angry, if not for the way you felt his cock stiffen even further inside of you. You start to move your hips, to rub up against the thumb on your clit, and to feel every fucking inch of him.
Urged on by the way he groans, you start to ride him, properly. Holding each other close, you fuck down onto him and he leans back, awed.
"Enjoying the show?" you ask.
"Damn- right- I- am-," Joel breathes, every word punctuated with a shuddering breath after you drive back down onto his cock, "Jesus- you- look- so- good- like- that."
You like being watched. Being admired. It sent an extra thrill through you, and your hips stutter, just a little, and now you're following a new, faster rhythm.
"Fuck, that's it, baby-" he praises, "Shit, yes- bounce on it."
You lean forward and kiss his throat, and then he makes this noise, half-strangled and beautiful.
"Shit, honey-- honey, honey, hold on-," he holds you still and you're glad he has, because your brain hadn't quite processed his words.
He's looking at you so earnestly.
"Baby, if you keep ridin' me like this I am gonna blow my load in the next twenty seconds and I don't wanna end this quite so soon."
You hum, a moment of consideration. You stare into his eyes, and part of it is calculated seduction, but another part is getting genuinely lost in the way he looks at you. The crinkles round his eyes. The way he seems able to focus on you, in a way that feels as frightening as it is exhilarating.
"How about this," You smile, "You get yours, and then you can eat me out till I get mine. And if you're ready to go again by the time I've come, we can see where we're at then. Hmm?"
You see a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and take a moment to appreciate how much he's clearly trying to control himself.
After a moments of avoiding your eye, he looks at you again and he looks utterly wrecked. "You- talkin' like that?" He shakes his head and tries to even his breath. "Fuck, I nearly came right there."
"It's okay," you soothe, and you cup his jaw and resume you movements, riding him like you had before. "You can come if you need to-" your fingertips stroke the stubble of his chin, "You're close, huh? It's okay, daddy, you can let go."
Joel lets out a strangled noise and busts immediately.
You savor the way it feels, the pulse of his cock as he spills into you. No, into the condom, you correct yourself, but you can always pretend-
After his balls relax and you can feel him start to get soft, you hold the condom down as you pull yourself off, and you're nearly unseated when there's a sudden squelch noise that sends you both into tumbles of laughter.
It takes a while to calm down, and you find yourselves heaving, tangled in the sheets, and wrapped up in each other. The condom is hanging limply on Joel's now-soft cock and it's oddly cold and gooey as you accidentally roll against it, and that sends you both off again.
"Fuck," Joel snorts, and tugs at the condom, starting to roll it off his length, "I'd almost forgotten the weird texture of a used condom. Fuckin'... Slug-like."
"That-" you declare, "Is visceral. And I hate it. Thanks."
He snorts, and you suddenly have a question.
"Condoms not making too many appearances in your life?"
"Not many, no."
"What, you usually fuck raw?"
"Just haven't been sleepin' with anyone," he shrugs, nonplussed.
"Well, I gotta say, the good people of Austin have been missing out."
Joel shrugs again, and it comes off as casual, but you notice the way his ears tint pink. "Just- not been something I did. But now, I guess, I can. And with way less guilt."
"Why guilt? Are-" you venture, dread pooling in your stomach, "Are you married?"
His eyes flit up to you sharply, and then soften immediately. He lets out a breath and shakes his head. "No. Nothin' like that. I was married, but I've been divorced nearly twenty years now."
The tightness immediately uncoils and you realise how tense you were only a moment ago. I am not a cog in the machine of a collapsing marriage. Thank fuck.
But now your curiosity is piqued. "So... why the guilt?"
"Sorry, I- I really didn't mean to get into it. I'd rather not get into it. It's- complicated."
"Of course," you shrug, and it isn't a problem because this is just a hot fantasy hookup that you'll remember fondly, and it'll be wonderful masturbation fuel for probably the rest of your life, but you don't wanna make the poor guy go into his life's trauma, especially when he's looking at you so fucking earnestly and you are actually really fucking fascinated but no, you would not let this become a problem.
"Thanks," he says, and then steps out of the room. You hear the clang of the bin as he steps on the pedal, then drops the condom, takes a piss and washes his hands.
"You hungry?" He asks, and you realize very suddenly, you're absolutely famished.
"Yes," you jump up and he laughs when you run, bare-assed and shameless, over to the corner of the room filled with brochures and traveller info and finally, you raise it in triumph when you find it, the list of nearby takeaways.
"Okay," you look at the list, "There's one place at the top of the list here that's apparently highly rated, but I actually have plans there soon and I wanna wait till then to eat there. Hope that's okay."
Joel comes over to you and rests his head on your shoulder. "No problem."
"But... alright," you continue. "There's pizza. Or... more pizza. Or, look--there's a Southern-style place, that'll make you feel right at home!" Joel pokes you in the side and you swat at him as he grunts a laugh.
Suddenly, a warning sound starts playing on loop in your brain. It was dreadfully domestic, wasn't it? This was an absolute stranger you'd just met in a hotel bar? But... it also felt... nice? And it felt nice in ways that you'd never found yourself enjoying before. Even with long-term partners. Maybe because this was so low-stakes, you reasoned, such an inevitably temporary situation, so you weren't putting the same kind of pressure on yourself.
As soon as you think that, the eternal curse of overthinking shows itself and you suddenly feel desperately self conscious. Before you can pull away and make some excuse, though, Joel's arm wraps around you and his thumb starts rubbing little circles into a tender bit of skin between your hip and your tummy. The anxiety spiral you'd been teetering on the edge of suddenly vanishes.
"How about-," he nods at the list, "Pizza?"
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After Joel calls in your order, the pizza delivery service tells you to expect your food in about thirty minutes. You remember you have a little box of edibles. You ask Joel if he minds if you take one, and he doesn't. You offer him one, and he automatically declines, but then as he starts to explain, he pauses and pivots, goes "Wait, actually. Yeah. Why not?"
A freckled kid who looks no more than sixteen pulls up with a short stack of pizza boxes and a two liter bottle of root beer. He raps awkwardly on the door after exactly thirty five minutes, and it swings open.
The room looks utterly wrecked, clothing strewn along every surface. Joel answers the door wearing a robe, his entire face smelling of sex, and his moustache still shining with the slick of your release.
"Thanks, kid," Joel nods, and hands him a small wad of cash. The kid eyes him and shrugs. "Keep the change," he tells him, and the door swings back shut.
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The edibles have hit beautifully. You're both blissed out, comfortably hazy, lost in the sensation of bare limbs on bedsheets and the flavors of the pizza and it's assorted sauces. You lay together on the bed, paper plates strewn between you. In the background, an X-Files rerun plays.
"Ooh!" You sit up as you catch the premise of the episode, "I love this one! See the goo? There's a giant fungal... entity.. that's working on digesting them, and giving them hallucinations as they die."
"You and mushrooms, huh?" Joel laughs, but then looks back at the episode and contemplates the viscous yellow goo. "Jesus christ," he frowns, and sniffs, now contemplating the mushrooms on his pizza slice.
You spot his glare and snort. "I think you're safe."
He takes another bite and shakes his head as if to clear it.
"I'm getting tired," he admits.
"Me too," you agree.
"No pressure, but in case it wasn't clear, you're welcome to stay the night here."
"That's sweet," you tell him, and think it over. "If I took you up on that, would you be offended if I slip out early?"
Joel raises a brow.
"I have a cat," you explain, "And I'm working on moving into a new place, and meeting a friend for breakfast, and then I need to check out after breakfast because I won't be able to get my keys for the new place until the breakfast but I can't take my cat to a diner-"
You take a breath.
"Basically, I've got a bunch of things I need to do in the morning, but if you don't mind me slipping out around, maybe, 5-ish, then I'd love to stay."
He stares at you.
You regret saying as much as you said. You don't need to over-explain yourself to this actual stranger. He doesn't care. There's no reason for him to care. He's probably in it just for the fuck, and it was fun and if you stay then there's a chance the two of you will wake up at some point in the night, still horny and lustful and you might fuck again and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't part of the draw. You realise, though, you'd also be lying if you said you didn't care what he thought of you. All of a sudden, you are overwhelmed with caring what this man thinks of you.
How fucking inconvenient.
"I wouldn't be offended at all," Joel chews, swallows, wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and speaks again. "What's your cat's name?"
You don't know what you'd expected he'd say, but it wasn't that. You buffer for a moment. "It's- Spatula."
"Spatula?"
"Yep." You feel foolish.
"Huh. Spatula."
A silent moment between you.
"Got any pictures?"
You weren't expecting that, either. "I... do? Do you want to see them?" He nods. You pull out your phone to scroll through.
Joel, suddenly scrambled around for his phone, too. It was late and he hadn't checked it for hours. Had it been on silent? What if Sarah had called and he'd missed it?
His panic eased when he saw he had only two notifications. Both from Sarah, but neither were bad. He hadn't been neglecting any crises. The first text was a selfie of Sarah and an unfamiliar person, which she'd texted to him with the caption New roomie!! The second contained an address to the place they'd have breakfast tomorrow along with Just wanted you to know I've invited a friend to join us tomorrow morning! Is that okay? Realized I should maybe have checked with you? 😬
There was an ache in his chest. He wanted to keep her to himself, get to spend one last day, just the two of them. It was the start of a whole new chapter, but more than anything, he wished he could hold onto the moment for just a second longer.
But Sarah was stressed, he knew this, so he wasn't gonna make it worse and put this burden on her. He could handle it. He had to handle it. He typed back- No problem, baby. Can't wait to meet your friend.
After a moment, he followed up with another text. Gonna turn in now. Good nite!
The less he texted right now, the better. He did not want Sarah to know anything about the night he was having.
His screen lit up a moment later. Night Dad! He takes a deep breath and wills some of the tension away.
He slips his phone aside and you scoot into bed next to him.
"This," you announce, "Is Spatula."
Joel scrolls thru, his brows raising higher with each image.
With a single nod, he opens his mouth and instead of speaking, he collapses into laughter. It comes out a wheeze- "I-- I know this won't make any sense, but your cat looks just like my goddamn brother."
You're laughing now too, both of you almost hysterical, even though you have no frame of reference. You cherish the absurdity.
Then, Joel pulls up a picture on his phone and shows you, and now you're doubling over again because his brother looks exactly like Spatula.
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You don't remember falling asleep. You curse your body's internal clock because you wake up right at 5am, and even though you know you should get up and leave, you wish you could have just a little bit longer.
It's such a comfortable way to wake up. One arm is folded under your pillow, and the other is slung over Joel's hip. He's asleep, snoring softly, and strands of his hair are mussed along his forehead. Your hand is holding his tummy, but you realise there's something pressing against the heel of your hand, and then realise, with a delicious jolt, that he's hard and straining against his boxers.
It's so fucking hard to get out of that bed, but with enough barely-effective reminders--you're gonna fuck up your whole day if you're late, gotta make a good impression, Spatula's gonna be so disappointed if you're late with his breakfast--you manage to bully yourself out of the warm and wonderful bed containing blankets and absolutely fantastic dick, and you tiptoe through the room, dress quickly, and, after making a note and leaving it on his bedside stand, you slip out.
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Joel wakes up with a jolt, and then rolls over to see that the alarm clock (which he dared not contemplate the number of times he must have snoozed) was telling him it was 9:13.
He was late. Really fucking late. And then the panic made his brain spin faster and that's when he noticed the note on his bedside table.
I had a really good time If you're in town for a little longer, don't be a stranger?
It's followed with your name and phone number, and a rather detailed mushroom sketch across the page. He wasn't sure what kind of mushroom it was, but it was beautiful, and clearly hand-drawn, and for whatever reason you'd decided to tear it out of, presumably, your sketchbook? And you gave it to him, and he's gonna read that note and replay last night for the rest of his fucking life. It felt incredibly precious. He placed it in a book so it wouldn't get creased or folded. Made sure it was all contained and neat, totally flat in between the pages.
Then, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.
After scrubbing the smell of sex off of his entire body, he dresses quickly and checks his watch again. 9:28.
He texts Sarah and lets her know he's a few minutes behind. She responds with an eye roll emoji.
Joel settles in his truck and pulls up directions. It's only a few minutes away. He won't be too late.
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When Joel steps into the diner, he's charmed by it. It's old school, with a checkerboard floor and bright red vinyl seats. He scans the room till he spots Sarah in a booth in the corner. She's laughing over a hot chocolate, and her friend must be in the seat opposite her.
He catches Sarah's eye and she grins at him, waving him over.
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You've been at the diner about fifteen minutes, and you and Sarah are already getting along beautifully.
You'd met on a university message board and had become fast friends, but meeting someone in person was always a little terrifying. On top of that, you'd already committed to spending at least one (academic) year with this person, so you were damn sure gonna make it work.
Sarah waves over her dad. You can't see him yet, the back of the booth too high.
But then he's standing right there.
You already have a hand outstretched, but when he sees you and you see him, your stomach flips and dread runs through you. All the color drains from his face. He looks like a deer in headlights, and you'd be surprised if you didn't look the same.
Sarah looks between you, not quite concerned, but definitely confused. Sarah smiles and tries to diffuse the situation.
"Hi dad!" She grins, "This is my new roommate! Well, the other new roommate--the one in the picture, their name is Ellie, they weren't able to make it this morning. BUT. Breakfast seemed like a great time to hand off keys!"
Joel is still frozen and white-faced. Your brain whirs, and you know you've just fucking catapulted yourself into a disastrous mess, but you do your very best to save face.
Reaching your hand out further so he can't possibly miss it, he gives into some familiar social instinct, takes it and you shake. You think of his hands, how they dragged along your body last night, touched you, felt you, wrecked you.
You introduce yourself. He nods, avoiding eye contact.
"Joel." He grunts. "Miller."
Sarah frowns at him, but turns back to the menu.
This- was unexpected. Problematic. Arguably, really fucked up. All of those things and more. But it'll be fine.
All throughout breakfast, you repeat that to yourself, letting the words bounce around your head. It will be fine, you repeat your mantra, it will be fine, and you try not to feel too hurt at the way Joel's avoiding eye contact as if simply looking at you will cause him unimaginable disgust.
Everything will be fine.
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Note: The fic's premise is loosely based on the book Mistakes Were Made which is a fucking excellent sapphic romance novel that utilises this trope. Would strongly recommend the book if you're into smutty queer stories.
1K notes · View notes
hungharrington · 11 months
Note
So I um I found an amazing video and now I’m plagued by thoughts of sitting on Steve’s bed, him between your legs with his back to your chest, and giving him the sweetest loveliest softest handjob ever, scratching his tummy hairs and peppering kisses all over his neck
nonnie did i or did i not tell u i was coming back for this ask? and i came back with a hunger -- sort of sub!steve, 1.5k, everything the ask describes, as always MDNI this entire blog is 18+! enjoy <3
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Steve doesn’t think anyone has ever asked to take care of him before.
He’s had plenty of partners in bed, sure. He’s rife with enough experience that honestly he thinks it would take a really strange request to throw him off his game. But you had— when you asked, “Can I just take care of you tonight?” 
He hadn’t even been entirely sure what you had meant, pulling back from the steamy make-out with you on his lap— the usual late night rendezvous. 
But still, he gave a slow and earnest nod, a soft ‘sure, honey’ and let you rearrange the two of you til you were leaning back on the headboard and he was leaning back against you. Your thighs on either side of him, your arms looped around his middle. Like a little spoon. Steve secretly adores it. 
“Y’know I can’t exactly do much in this position,” Steve chuckles, pretending to have his reservations, even if he’s already eager to see what you mean by taking care of him. Your arms are around his waist, warm, your fingers tucking up his shirt to begin to work it upwards.
“Mm,” you hum, hoisting it higher and Steve moves forward, letting it get tugged off and over his head. Cool air flushes down his chest. “Dunno if you’re grasping the idea of letting me take care of you if you’re worrying bout that.” 
The shirt flutters to the ground, forgotten, as your hands explore to freshly exposed skin. Steve sighs sweetly as you trace softly across his tummy, nails dragging lightly as your near his thighs. His cock is already perking up. It’s been interested since earlier, you in his lap and your tongue in his mouth, and it doesn’t take many more lingering touches for it to reach proper attention. 
“No one ever taken care of you before, baby?” You ask, lips scraping his ear. Your breath is warm and your voice is low— but the kiss you give beneath his ear is hot and wet. You suckle at the skin, not even a nip of teeth. Desire pools low in Steve’s gut, a simmering heat. 
One of your hands moves over his boxers and gives his bulge a gentle rub, making Steve rumble out a soft moan. Your other hand rubs soothing down his thigh. 
Steve shakes his head to answer no to your question. His eyes fight to stay open, torn between wanting to watching your wandering hands or turning to kiss you but your persistent kisses on his neck give him little choice. He shifts his hips. 
“Not- not like this,” Steve admits, breath a little short already. His tummy tenses when your hand drags back up over it, just a soft scratch of nails. His cock aches harder. He wishes you would touch it, wishes you would reach your hand in, all hot, soft and wet and tug it in that perfectly teasing way he knows you can. 
“Sweetheart,” he breathes, hips shifting upward again. You smile at his impatience. 
“Can we take these off?” You ask, pinching the ruffled elastic of his boxers. Steve nods fervently, hips shifting up to let you slide them down so he can kick them off. His chest feels warm, flushed beneath the hair and another groan tumbles out when you finally curl your fingers around his cock. “Fuck,” he pants as you pump tantalizing slow. “Fuck, feels so good, honey,” 
A hunger for the feeling grows in his stomach, gnawing for more bliss. Steve lets his head tips back, resting against your shoulder and you take advantage of it in an instant; kisses upon kisses up his neck. It’s messy, lips wet with spit as you scrape your teeth down, right as your rub over the slit of his cock— Steve twitches, a jagged whine pushing past his lips. He pants a little heavier. 
Pausing for a moment, you pull your hand back to your mouth and let yourself drool over it— sticky saliva covering your fingers. This time, when you grip his cock, Steve gasps loudly. Slick, hot, sounds reverberate in the room as you jerk him, hand twisting perfectly. Still slow, still gentle. 
Your mouth find his earlobe, teeth nibbling a little mean, your hand not stopping— and Steve moans a little louder, like he can’t help it. His cock gives a little dribble of precum, tummy all tensed up again. 
“See? S’nice to be taken care of,” You murmur softly. You thumb his slit again, delighting in the spurt his cock gives, then dive down to cup his balls. Your other hand strokes along his thigh lovingly, nails drawing lines as you rake them back up to his v-line. 
Steve shivers, shuddering sweet whines escaping him. He’s so unbearably hard for you- especially as you rub his balls so perfectly, your hand dragging back up his cock and then back down, a mind-melting cycle. It’s so much, it’s not even close to enough, it’s, it’s— 
“Oh god,” Steve whimpers loudly. His eyes have finally crushed closed, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly beside you. His gut is burning with heat, pleasure filling every limb. It feels good. He wants to writhe against you, wants to fuck your fist, wants you to keep teasing him just like you’re doing. 
“Oh god, oh fuck- f-fuck,” His words are getting more pathetic by the minute, barely fully formed, drenched in a whimpering tone. “Please, don’t… don’t tease, no- ah,” 
It’s not even teasing, you just aren’t rubbing him hot and fast like usual. Your movements are slow, doused in adoration — your core feels sticky, burning hot from watching Steve get all worked up in your arms. 
“M’not teasing you,” you say, fondling his balls and rubbing your palm against them in a circular motion, building his lust. Steve’s tense body and punched out breathes contradict your words. He’s so whiny. It’s a pity no one’s ever taken care of him before — though your stomach pinches hotly to know only you get to see him this way. 
“Just taking care of you,” you sigh, grip tightening as you pull it back up his cock, giving the smallest jerk. Steve warbles out a throaty whimper, egged on by your roaming touch along his thighs. He feels molten hot, tummy already all clenched up, his cock just leaking all over your hand. Pleasure buzzes wildly in his body, back starting to arch up. 
“Hone- aw, fuckfuckfuck, yes, just there, please, honey,” he pleads, voice starting to sound wrecked and feeble. God, he sounds pathetic; he only sounds like this when he's been fucking you for a good while. But a few minutes of the right touch? Reduces to a whiny mess in your hands. 
“So pretty,” you whisper and Steve can’t tell if you mean him or his dribbling cock, all pink and twitching in your hand. He can’t even feel the fabric gripped between his own fingers— can’t feel anything except your palm right around the head of his cock, teasing it lightly. It’s torture, it’s perfect, it’s not enough, it’s— 
“Please!” The word bursts out of Steve, desperate, swallowed immediately by a moan. He fights to get his next words out as your hand returns to his heavy balls, caressing them soft and slow again. It’s not fucking enough. His pleas fall out all whimpery, “Take— take care of me, please, wanna cum, I wanna- I wanna—“ 
It’s the magic words. You grip his cock properly, your whole hand curling around him for the first time that night and you set a fast pace- lewd, squelching sounds echo in the bedroom. Steve keens forward, a soft cry coming from him as his pleasure turns into a blaze in his stomach. “Oh my god, oh god- yes, fuck—“ 
Your free hand moves to his tummy, scratching down to thatch of hair at the base of his cock and Steve can’t help it, he cums, hard. He turns his head, hides it in your neck and releases a whimpery sort of wail. His chest heaves as his pretty cock spurts out his hot pearly cum — coating your hand enough to ride him through it, your hand never stopping. 
“That’s it, so good,” You coo at him. Your sweet words carry him through it, your pace slowing as his body starts to twitch back against yours. His cock gives a few final dribbles of cum and you rub your thumb over his slit, spreading it. Steve whimpers loudly. “Mm, there we go.” 
It feels like it takes forever for him to settle back down. Steve feels wrung out, feels spent, feels like he had his brain melted out his ears — like he could just nap against you now and be happy forever. Your soft kiss against his cheek has him opening his eyes, pulling back enough to look at your face. 
“Good?” You ask, though he knows you can tell just how fucking good it was. “Good to be taken care of?” 
Steve nods with a loving hum, a hefty exhale rushing out his lungs and he lets his face huddle back into your neck, eyes slipping shut. He’ll move in a minute- maybe when he can feel his thighs again. 
4K notes · View notes
catiuskaa · 3 months
Text
THIS ISN’T WHAT FRIENDS DO.
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PAIRING! best friend!felix x reader
SUMMARY: you're friends- duh! best friends are close to each other, even if this could be... too close. still, no one can really blame you! that chocolate was far too good anyways.
REQUESTED! here by @lemon-va, who had a spicy kind of good idea, so, sorry it took so long, sweetness, but i hope u like it! <3
CW: convenient minsung strikes again. fluffy smut! mentions and use of aphrodisiac chocolate, use of petnames: princess, darling, pretty, oral sex (f & m rec.) + mentions of protected piv sex (as everyone should!), fluffy aftercare, and I think that's all!
WC: 3.1k
A/N! TYSM FOR THIS, COULD FINALLY FIND AN EXCUSE TO USE THEE DLC FELIX PIC, LMAO
[🔸☆🌆☆🔸]
He smells like home.
It’s the first time you find yourself reeling in the feeling of his hands, one around your waist, and how perfectly you fit cuddled against Felix’s chest, your eyes fixated on him as he focuses on the TV series you both were watching together.
You probably shouldn’t feel as giddy about it as you do. It’s definetely a more-than-friends action. And that’s not what Felix and you have.
He’s just your best friend.
He’s the type of friend that back hugs you, either if it’s because he wants a hug or because he ‘thought you looked like you needed one.’ The type of friend that has ultimately stopped using your name to talk to you, finding pet names under the rocks just to see you giggle. The type of friend that will always have a door or window open for you, having built a kind of trust that allows him to get closer and closer without any tuts, actions like tenderly wiping the excess of that brownie he gave you off the corner of your lip, tilting your chin with a soft touch of his fingers, then licking the chocolate off his thumb.
You can’t focus on the ways his eyes shine brighter, holding too many stars, having some of them pose as freckles on his skin. Can’t even start to listen to your friends or his flatmates when they start rambling about how his smile widens everytime you enter in a room, or how you’re the only one that has the power of making him pause his games, and even the online ones, which are impossible to pause, meaning he turns off league for you.
But, that just… no. You can’t allow yourself to hope so foolishly, right? It wouldn’t be fair. Not for you or him. Does that even make sense?
Before you spiral down to an unhealty amount of overthinking your feelings for him, he’s moving underneath you, his hands craddleing your face.
“You’re not paying attention, silly.” He teases with a cute grin, pausing the show. A thought flashes through your head, and you have to hold back to not wipe his smile off by planting your lips on his.
“Sorry,” you blush and smile sheepishly, but he brushes it off with another blinding smile of his, his eyes like crescent moons. “Feeling kind of sleepy,” you mumble softly.
He takes his phone from his back pocket, moving his hips with you still laying on him in a swift action that has you blushing even more. You mentally shake your head.
These thoughts needed to stop before your face reaches the the tomato-red level… meaning: now.
“It’s barely 6pm.” He’s just pointing it out, and then licking his lips, thinking about how to word what he wants to say. “You shouldn’t drive… It’s too dark. We can steal Seungmin’s pillow, cause he’s off at Hyunjin’s for tonight, and you can sleep in my room.”
Felix’s smile could make you do anything.
“Sure. That sounds nice.” You know you’re using the sleepyness to your advantage when you hide your head on the crook of his neck, moving and streching your body like a kitten, and you humm against his soft skin. “No need to steal Seungmin’s pillow. You’re my pillow now.”
And you both take it as a joke, but if he could just say that he wanted to, it would’ve never been a joke.
“C’mon, pretty.” He cutely ushers you off him, and starts heading to the kitchen, your footsteps following his, grabbing the almost-forgotten popcorn bowls, now empty.
He opens the fridge, grabbing water for the two of you as you leave the bowls in the sink. You sit on top of the counter with no thoughts behind, sipping the water calmly.
You never could’ve guessed that the silly little question that was going to come off of your lips would unexpectedly change the whole night.
A 180° spin, started by your sleepy voice pointing to a bowl with some kind of plastic paper over it.
“What’s that?” You asked softly.
Felix just shrugged, taking the bowl and quickly discarding the plastic.
“Looks like chocolate?” And he frowned, struggling to remember something. It felt important, and it kept itching the back of his mind. “I think that Minho and Han made it a bunch of hours ago.”
You smiled. “Then it must be good. Minho is one hell of a chef,” you laughed, and took a small piece from the several stack of round, coin-like bits.
Instinctively, Felix picked one too, taking a bite at the same time as you, and you both were surprised by its flavour.
“Shit, that’s better than I imagined,” you muttered, frowning at the chocolate piece in your hand, as if it could give you all the answers regarding its taste. “Didn’t expect it to be black chocolate.”
Felix snickered, picking another one. “You do look like a white chocolate enthusiast.”
You gasped, faking offense, a hand to your chest and the other in the bowl, picking another piece. “Excuse me?!” You couldn’t help but smile cheekily. “White chocolate isn’t even chocolate.”
Felix frowned in response, a goofy smile on his face. “Yes it is.” He pointed out, munching at his third or fourth piece. “That why it’s called white chocolate, baby.”
You shook your head vigorously, too invested in the silly discusion to process how that nickname made you feel. “But it doesn’t have actual chocolate on it! It’s just milk and sugar!” You argued as you munched on your sixth piece.
You were about to take another one, but his soft hand stopped you.
“Wait. How many did you take?” He shot a toothy grin at you.
You snorted.
“Shit.” You both said, sneakily smiling, almost like a pair of small children that got away with a lie.
Felix giggled with you, quickly putting back the plastic cover on the bowl and leaving it on its place. As if nothing had happen.
Little did you two know.
“I call dibs on showering first!” Felix cackled.
[🔸☆🌆☆🔸]
Different types of questions bursted in your mind. They should have been easy to answer.
Questions like why and how.
It wasn’t just something that could happen randomly. Not as intense as right now. Because your whole body was burning up like it had been lit up in fire, desperate for any kind of relief.
And so you just stood there, inside Felix’s shower, unable to get out and dress in some random pj’s he lend you because you were soaking wet.
Why were you this horny? No fucking idea.
How on Earth were you this horny? Still no fucking idea!
It could’ve been five or maybe ten minutes that you spent resting your back against the cold tiled wall in his shower, splashing cold water onto your red cheeks, hoping to cool off.
And you consider several options in that moment, only one seemingly effective: to run away, change your name and fly to Spain.
Because Felix had just knocked on the door.
“H-hey.” His tone of voice feels different. “Are you good in there?”
Felix, Felix, Felix.
You feel a pool of arousal forming in your lower belly.
You shake your head almost fiercely. What the fuck is happening? This is so weird. Could it be that you just fell asleep on Felix’s chest and this was all a really strange dream?
He knocks on the bathroom door again.
“D-darling?”
Fuck, shit, fuck.
“Yes?” You answer, a high-pitched tone that makes you cringe.
“I-I uh… I s-screwed up.”
His tone of voice feels weak and soft, almost traced with guilt.
You frown, taking the towel and surrounding your body with it, tucking it and making it stay on, like a robe.
Leaning closer to the door, you sigh softly. “What’s wrong, Lix?”
You could hear him breathing heavily behind the door. A merely two to five steps away.
“Can I… open the door?”
Your eyes widen at his words. And you know its not the most inteligent decision you could make right now, but you bite your lip and open the door.
“S-shit.” Felix mutters, his eyes glued to your body, his face and ears crimson red.
You force your eyes to look at his face, and not at the seemingly painful bulge on his pants.
“S-so…” he takes his hands to his forehead, and passes a hand through his hair. “The chocolate we had… that uh… Minho and Jisung made…”
You blink at him, trying to process his words when your dizzy and fuzzy brain is sending you other ideas.
“And I don’t know how much we actually had…” he’s stressed out, rubbing his eyes, grasping for any sort of remaining concentration that his body could have. "Normally one or two pieces could have a small effect, but still..."
“Wait. It can’t be…” you mumble, slowly arriving to a conclusion.
And then your eyes lock with his.
His pupils darken.
You wouldn’t know who got close first, but your feet step towards him like metal to a magnet.
It's only when his lips grace yours that you move apart and face down. You're flustered, you want to cry and this whole thing is a mess. But then felix gently grabs your chin. He lays his forehead on yours, before planting a loving kiss on it.
"We're gonna do something, ok?” He mutters gently, stroking your face, and your body threatens to melt under his touch. He goes inside his bathroom and picks two random scrunchies near the sink, tenderly taking your hand and settling one on your wrist. Your hands interlink, matching hairtie bands working like a highlight on this situation.
Your glazed eyes lock with his again.
"As long as this is on your wrist, there's no consequences." He takes your hand and kisses the back of it, making your body shiver. "And after this is over, we'll… go back." There's a weird shadow in his eyes when he finishes that sentence.
As if he didn't want to go back to just friends.
"Felix, I don't know if I..." You hesitate, because for god's sake, you love him. And spending the night with him would not help dimming those feelings. What if it hurt more? What if...?
"Please." He's begging, his lips barely hovering over yours, so kissable, so tempting.
And then you break.
Because for a moment you were looking at him, but now you're not... instead, you lean forward and you plant a soft kiss on his lips. And it's all you both need to unravel.
You link your arms around his head and pull him further towards you, locking your lips with him as he moans, now muffled by how you fiercely kiss him, and he pushes your body against the wall, your towel slipping downwards with ease.
Felix's eyes grow imposibly dark with lust, and he grunts at the sight of your curves. Even if you close your eyes due to the intensity of all this, you can still feel him everywhere, the fresh smell of shampoo lingering on his soft hair.
He kisses the air out of your lungs. "I knew you were beautiful." He bites you lower lip, his hands traveling down your body, allowing you to halfly grasp how down bad he seems. "I told you so."
And you can't fathom the fact that he can still tease you in situation like this, but your whole mind is dizzy, there is lava running through your body where Felix touches, and you can't help but moan at his words.
"F-felix." You whimper, only after he starts peppering kisses to your cheeks, your neck, and its when you feel he's slowly kneeling on the floor for you that your hands travel to the back of his head.
"F-fuck, darling." Felix pants heavily. "That sound." His kisses on your belly and thighs start to leave red marks behind. "It's going to kill me."
He’s crazy. And you’re crazy too, because even when his mouth is deep between your legs, his tongue running between your folds, and only loud, almost desperate moans echo around the room.
Fingers tickle up the back of your thighs, his hands hungrily pulling you to him, as he eats you out like he’s been craving for you for ages.
You’re a wreck. A writhing, moaning, shaking wreck, and you can only close your eyes tught and lean into the wall behind you for support, because if not, your legs would definetly give out.
Your hands sink into Felix’s hair for something to hold on to, and a satisfied groan rumbles in his throat, the butterflies on your stomach turning to beasts.
One of his hands moves from your legs, and you flutter your eyes open, finding his gorgeous face staring at you, your arousal all over his lips and chin. His beatiful brown eyes are locked into yours, watching you closely as he slides a finger inside.
It’s game over for you when he goes back with his mouth, your hands tugging harder at his hair as you whimper. “Felix…!”
You can’t even form the second sentece as you cum, everything tingling and throbbing when you moan loudly, pleasure and heat flooding your entire body.
Felix removes his finger and mouth, leaning back so he can look at you properly, wearing the most drunk and fucked-out expression you’ve ever seen as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, not once breaking eye contact.
Before either of you can even say anything, he stands back up again and kisses you. It’s not fierce or has any of the urgent feeling that it had last time, instead, it feels like a soft crash, messy, a kiss that allows you to taste yourself on him.
He turns the both of you and you find the bed sooner than expected, falling on top of him.
It’s before he can do anything that your hands travel under his sweatpants, and he trembles under your touch.
“Oh, darling...” Felix whimpers, melting to putty in your hands, both figurative and literally. “Y-yes, just like that.” He knows that you’ve ruined him for good, forgetting about the scrunchie on his wrist.
And you forget about it too, sinking him deep in your mouth.
It’s only when he starts tetiching and writhing that he stops you, and in that moment, your body conects back to your mind. You’ve never gone this far before, not with anyone.
“Felix.” You mutter, your voice hoarse. “I’ve… never… you know.”
His eyes grow wide.
“You’ve never had sex before?”
He’s not shaming you for it. He’s confused, because he had been jealous over your boyfriends who he thought got to have you, and he’s growing more aroused, because a small voice in his head is telling him that he can be your first.
“N-no…” he coos at you, kissing you softly.
But you know there’s no one you could trust with this more than him.
“Let me show you what you’ve been missing out on,” and your breathing turns even heavier. “Let me treat you like the princess you are.”
He takes out a condom from his drawer, swiftly rolling it down his length.
Felix kisses your cheeks, helping to ease the tension. Your hands link together, and even if you still have the scrunchie on your wrist, none of you realize that Felix’s scrunchie is no longer on his wrists, but had fallen down to the floor.
“It can hurt a little. But I’m here. It’ll be ok, darling.”
You nod, kissing him softly.
[🔸☆🌆☆🔸]
You can’t help but feel shy when he cleans you up.
It’s slightly awkward, because none of you know how whatever you were was going to work now.
You would never be able to forget this.
He sinks back into bed, his hand laying on your waist, and with a huff, his breathing settles, calming down.
You eyes are locked on his gorgeous face, and now that you’ve kissed him, you can’t help but peck him softly again.
The scrunchie in your wrist bothers you, and you throw it away.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper, your hand traveling to his cheek, stroking it. “I love you.”
But his eyes flutter open, and he grins like a fool at you, launching his body back over yours.
He’s giggling like a madman, peppering kisses all over your face.
“Felix!” His hair tickles you, and you start to laugh too.
He stops, pinning your arms to the sides of your face, and kisses you lovingly.
“I love you too.”
It’s only after you both wake up, afterglow clear on both of your faces that when Minho and Jisung come back from the younger’s place, his eyes grow wide at both of you.
“You guys took what?!!”
~Kats, who now fears someone will find out that she googled how aphrodisiac chocolate works.
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rebelfell · 4 months
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multiples.
eddie munson x fem!reader
“Multiple? Multiple what?”
cw: smut blurb about eddie making sure you arrive properly. ref to period pain, fingering, oral (m & f receiving)
2.7k 18+ MDNI
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Eddie has a problem.
No, no, no—not a problem. That makes it sound like there was some issue he had to resolve or a task he had to complete. This is more delicate than that. A conundrum, maybe? A dilemma? Whatever he called it, it had consumed him for weeks now. And it boiled down to one thing:
He was pretty sure you weren’t coming.
At first, it was difficult to put a finger on what exactly was throwing him off. 
When the two of you got together, he was thrilled. Like, running through the streets naked, jumping on top of moving cars, Wilhelm screaming, over the goddamn moon kind of thrilled. He’d been into you since forever and had always felt totally comfortable around you. You were hilarious and cool and probably definitely the smartest person he knew, easy—not that the rest of his friends were like Rhodes scholars or anything.
Still, it kind of blew him away that someone like you was actually interested in him.
The longer you saw one another and the closer you got, he only liked you more and more. Then you guys started doing stuff and he sort of kind of lost his fucking mind. He’d never been with a person that felt so much like home; someone he felt like he could spend forever with, if you’d only have him. And the sex was…unbelievable.
You let your bodies have long, in-depth conversations that lasted into the night and then picked right back up again in the early morning. He hadn’t ruined this many sets of sheets since he was a snot-nosed pre-teen first discovering the loving embrace of his own fist. But as the fog of your initial sex haze dissipated, he couldn’t shake this one thought that kept coming back.
He didn’t want to toot his own horn or anything, but Eddie had it on pretty good authority he was above average when it came to making girls arrive. And with you…
Well, it was just different.
You were pretty quiet, for one. Which was kind of odd, considering how brash and brazen you could be normally. Eddie thought maybe you were just more subdued during sex. Sometimes it was the quietest, most mousy-looking girls who rattled his trailer roof the hardest. So maybe the reverse was also true? And there was nothing wrong with that, if it was. Just because he was vocal in bed, it certainly didn’t mean he expected you to be.
But when you came—or rather, when you said you were—it just didn’t quite feel like he expected.
He was no expert, mind you. But after having dealt so much in theatricality and role play, he’d developed quite an ear for insincerity. And you are anything but insincere.
When he had you pinned underneath him, his hips snapping as he drove you into the mattress, the way you squirmed and writhed and squeezed around him was pure fucking bliss. But then, just when he thought he was getting you going, you would be wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him in close so he could hear your heated whisper.
“Gonna come for me, beautiful?” he’d ask, his hand dipping between your bodies to rub at your clit. You’d nod, almost too blissed out to speak.
“I did, I did,” you told him, more breath than words. “I came already—I wanna feel you.”
And, well, when you say it like that…it’s all he can do not to blow his load on the spot. 
It’s not that he doesn’t believe you. He just thinks maybe you don’t know what it feels like to really come. So it’s not that you’re faking—something is definitely happening down there—it’s just not an orgasm. At least not a decent one.
At least not one he wants to claim.
Considering the guys you’d dated, he’s not all that surprised. They all sounded like losers who worried about themselves first and only. Dumb jerks who thought their dicks were magic wands that made girls come as soon as they set foot in the lobby. He didn’t want to be like them.
He wanted to take you to the fucking penthouse.
But it’s tricky. He can’t just bring up something like this, can he? He doesn’t want to offend you. He doesn’t want you thinking he’s saying there’s something wrong with you. Because of course there isn’t. And he doesn’t want to keep going without you knowing what he’s trying to do.
Like he said…it’s delicate.
So the next time he had you over, he let you lead. He made no move to change your course as you kissed down his bare inked chest, over the sparse patch of hair that swirled just beneath his navel, and pulled him hot and leaking from behind his blue checkered shield. And even as his instincts screamed in protest, he let you take him into the warmth of your mouth and bob on his cock until he came—a shuddering, whining, blubbering mess as he filled your throat.
All part of the plan. All part of the plan.
It took a bit of time for him to recover and he spent every second of it loving on you—each graze of his fingers and lips leisurely, but thorough. He kissed all the parts of you he thought might have been left unattended too long: the undersides of your breasts marked by the indentations of your bra; the soft span of skin that ran along the inside of your forearm to the crease of your elbow; the sides of your ribcage that quivered at the tickle of his warm breath.
And he watched your face every step of the way, studying you until you dropped fully into that deeply relaxed state. He let his hand drift down between your legs, skimming them over the sensitive skin there, making you tremble all over in anticipation. Alright, this was it.
“Hey, baby,” he murmured, a low rumble between kisses along your collarbone.
“Yeah?”
You hummed out your reply, looking down at him with heavy lidded eyes, half gone already. It made Eddie grin, his smile all teeth.
Oh, this was gonna be fun.
“I was wondering if you’ve ever had a multiple?”
The question made your brow wrinkle and you frowned slightly. “Multiple? Multiple what?”
“Multiple orgasms,” he said with a light chuckle. “Like if I fingered you until you came and then went down on you until you came again. Made you come over, and over, and over…”
You gasped as his tongue traced the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your body.
“Can that…does that happen?” you asked with a breathy sigh. He just smiled at the adorably incredulous look on your face and nodded.
“Of course,” he said. “I think that’s like the main thing you guys have going for you in this arena. Something to make up for all the annoying shit you have to put up with from your body.”
Another chuckle makes his chest shake as he rubs a hand over your lower belly, remembering how you’d asked him once just to press on it with his strong, warm palm and offer some relief from your cramps that were particularly bad one night.
“Oh. I mean…I’ve heard that, I guess. I kind of always thought it was a joke.”
“Well, I might not get you there,” Eddie said, giving you a smile he hopes is reassuring. “And if it doesn’t feel good or it hurts or anything, just tell me and we’ll stop. No harm, no foul.”
You pinched the edge of his comforter between your fingers and tugged at it, twisting it into a little peak at your side. “That sounds…really good,” you told him quietly.
“So, I can try?” he asked, brow lifting. “It’s okay?”
“I mean, yeah…” You chewed your lip, still a little hesitant. “But what about you?”
Eddie smirked, all sly and wily as he brushed the backs of his fingers along the softness of your cheek. “We did me already,” he reminded you.
Your cheeks heated at the memory, the taste of his come still sitting warm on your tongue as you swallowed thickly. Admittedly, you’d been kind of surprised when he let you go down on him first and actually finished in your mouth. Normally he was tugging you off him as soon as he felt himself losing it, grunting out something about not wanting to go too quickly.
“Okay,” you said with a small smile. “It just seems a little unfair”
“How’s it unfair if it’s what I want?” he murmured, voice dropping back to that low rumble.
Hard to argue with that, you supposed. 
A beaming smile spread across your face and you twisted your fingers in the ball chain necklace that dangled around his neck to pull him closer. You answered his question with the press of your lips against his own, inhaling a shaky breath when you pulled away. Eddie’s nose nudged against yours, mashing into the softness of your cheek to resume the kiss. His hand came up to cradle your jaw and his mouth moved in that slow, sensuous way that made your insides dance and leap and spin like an entire company of ballerinas.
The kiss itself is so dizzying, you almost forgot about Eddie’s initial intentions until you felt his fingers begin to gently glide through your soaking folds. He swallowed your little mewl of relief as two of them finally sank inside your warmth while his thumb brushed teasingly light over your clit. It doesn’t take long at all for your arousal to coat his fingers, for your body to gush for him.
“Ed, I’m…I’m coming,” you breathed out, tingling with that initial burst of pleasure.
“Thats it, baby,” Eddie nodded, going along with it one last time. “You’re doing so good for me.”
He drew a single, high moan out of you—more like a gasp of relief as your body fully relaxed and all the stiffness in your shoulders and tension in your limbs melted away. You let your head loll to the side and smiled, almost dazed with the feeling. Pride surged in his chest from the way you looked at him sometimes—so perfectly content and elated because he was all yours. 
The look he gave you was rapturous as he licked his lips and started to make his way down, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake that dotted across your chest, between the valley of your breasts, down your sternum and the soft pudge of your tummy. You propped yourself up to watch him as his mop of dark curls dipped between your thighs, fingers still sitting snug inside your warm, wet walls. Your chest rose and fell with each deep breath and he could only imagine how hard your heart must be pounding for you to try and slow it like you are.
“I’m gonna try for another, okay?” he soothed. “Stay relaxed for me, beautiful.”
You nodded back and let your head drop down, sinking deep into the embrace of your pillow.
Eddie pumped his fingers a few more times, faster now and crooking them upwards in search of that spot inside you that had eluded him far too long. The deftness of his touch coupled with the eager swipes of his tongue had your body heaving now as he traced a maddening pattern, swirling side to side and weaving it through your center.
Eyes suddenly fluttering open and closed, you whined softly and squirmed in his grasp as his tongue decisively swerved away from where you needed him most. The anticipation made your hips rock into his face, chasing more of the feeling as he teased you relentlessly.
His free arm promptly wrapped around your thigh, his hand gripping at the soft flesh to keep your legs spread apart. He was deeply thorough in his exploration, nose occasionally brushing against your clit that was practically crying out for his attention. His hot breath fanned along your inner thighs and he moaned deeply with each lick so you could feel the vibrations in your core.
You lost track of how long he was down there, allowing yourself to be swept away with the riot of sensations, realizing just a little too late your body was working towards something new. 
The feeling creeps up on you, trickling through your muscles, causing all of them to twitch and spasm, tensing and releasing in waves. Little whines and pants of pleasure start to spill out of your mouth, the desperate little sounds like the most beautiful music to Eddie’s ears.
It makes him grind down into the bed, desperate to hear more.
“Feel good?” he asked, brow lifting behind sweaty bangs as round doe eyes look up at you.
“So g-good,” you panted, the sound almost pained with pleasure. “So sensitive…”
“You taste like heaven, you know that?” he murmurs to your cunt. “I could do this forever.”
He genuinely could, but it seems he won’t have to. You’re getting close now. He can feel it in the way your thighs start to tremble against his ears; the way another gush of you floods across his tongue. His eyes darted sideways to where your hand rests on the blanket, flexing with the need to grab onto something. Anything.
One last time, he squeezed at the meat of your thigh and then unwrapped his arm from around it to reach out instead and thread his fingers with yours. Your grip is bone crushing and only makes him hold on tighter as he points the tip of his tongue to increase its pressure.
“E-Eddie, it feels…something feels different…”
“It’s okay, baby,” he said, the pace of his fingers never faltering. “I’ve got you, just let go.”
He wished he could bottle the look on your face. Eyes scrunched up, brow furrowed as though you were deep in concentration. Lips parted in a wanton gasp as your chest swelled. His mouth came back to your clit, resuming the motions that had you clenching around his fingers.
“Oh…ohhh my…oh, fuck…”
When he feels you starting to unravel, feels that band coiled tight in your core start to snap, it takes everything he has in him to stay the course—especially when the hand of yours he’s not holding winds into his hair and you grasp desperately at his curls. The groan it elicits from him is deep and guttural, the sound of it radiating in the room. And finally he feels it happening—your pussy spasming around his fingers, threatening to snap them clean off you’re clenching so tight; hips bucking and stomach quivering with the effort of drawing breath.
“Fuck, Eddie, don’t stop!” you cried out. “That feels so good, holy fucking shit—”
So much for being quiet, Eddie thought mischievously.
Your head is pushing back into the pillow now, back arching under you, lifting you off the bed. He’s clamped tight against you though, his lips sealed around your clit and sucking like his life depends on it. In a way, it feels like it does.
“I’m gon…I’m gonna…I’m co—”
The words dissolve into a moan, the sound of it higher and louder than anything else Eddie has drawn out of you before. Pride explodes in his chest as he finally feels what he’s been waiting for—that exquisite vice around his fingers as he continues to stroke that sacred spot.
Your body floods with the feeling, waves of it surging through you, seeing white behind your eyes that are still pinched shut. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before—every synapse firing at once, every molecule in your body exploding like a tiny firework.
Distantly, you register his voice coaxing you through it as you reluctantly return to earth. Yes, baby, that’s it, thaaaat’s it—fuck me, you’re so fucking hot when you come, Jesus fucking Christ…
You opened your eyes, blinking through bleary vision as the world came back into focus.
Eddie grinned, smile almost wolfish when he lifted himself from between your legs. Triumph flashed in his dark eyes, his gaze roving all over as he began a slow crawl up your body, his cock now standing at attention with its vigor renewed.
“Okay,” he panted, dragging his hand across his mouth and chin that were slick with your spend as he leaned in to kiss you. “That’s one.”
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sttoru · 4 months
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imagine older bf!gojo fucking us in doggy style in while we're wearing his hoodie😫😫
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. smut. age gap (reader early 20’s, gojo early 30’s), size difference / size kink, doggy style, spanking, implied creampies, reader gets called ‘baby, sweetheart’.
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satoru’s attempts to hide his obvious desire for you were rendered unsuccessful; no matter how much he tries to keep his hands to himself — it never works. this time was no different.
you were simply sitting on the couch with his hoodie on and the older man couldn’t stop the blood from rushing to his crotch. you looked extremely adorable in satoru’s hoodie, as it was oversized on your much shorter and smaller body.
“fuck— ‘m sorry, baby,” your boyfriend apologises between shallow breaths. he’s got you face down with your ass up on the bed; his hands using your hips as leverage for his intense thrusts. there was no mercy in the pace he set—he was too far gone, “you just. . look so fuckin’ good in my hoodie - couldn’t resist.”
the inability to resist going any harder on you also shows in his constant, harsh movements. the sticky sounds your cunt made due to your own wetness - and the few loads that satoru had dumped into you in the span of half an hour - echo throughout your shared space.
satoru’s fingers slither up your back, diving under the material of your (his) hoodie before moving up your front to fondle your breasts. all while his throbbing cock molds your insides to accommodate its hefty size.
“you should try on my clothes more often,” your boyfriend suggests whilst he leans his upper body down, his chest flush against your back as his hot breath tickles your ear, “i wanna try fucking you in all of ‘em.”
you moan and shiver at the thought which forms a sly grin on satoru’s face. he sighs before leaning back again, putting his hips in a better angle so he could hit all of your sweet spots—trying desperately to hear all the moans you could produce. of course, he can’t help but add a couple spanks to your ass.
the sight of the fat jiggling which each slam of his hips and slap of his hand nearly drives him to the edge again. satoru slips his wet dick out of your pussy for a second, pumping the length and using the tip to scoop up the droplets of his cum that escaped back inside you. he resumes his harsh thrusts, his ocean blue eyes taking in every jolt your body makes.
“mm shit, you’d look so good in that black shirt of mine,” satoru groans. he could already imagine how the compression shirt would define your tits and waist—how your nipples would poke through the thin material.
you tremble and babble incomprehensible words after lifting your head from the pillow. your lungs long for air and your hands claw at the bedsheets. your lover could easily decipher your actions: you’re about to reach another orgasm.
“aht aht, sweetheart. jus’ a little more, ‘kay?” satoru pouts, kissing the back of your head in a gesture of comfort. he pats your ass with a smile after you agree to hold back for a bit longer, “good girl.”
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