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shaunasrabbit · 8 hours ago

Note

Hi, I’ve recently discovered your blog (LOVE it) and was wondering if you’d be open to writing Joel Miller x top ftm reader

I’m not sure if requests are supposed to be specific (and forgive me if it’s too detailed) but I’d love to see Joel exploring his newly found attraction to men (bi Joel is so dear to me) and quickly finding out that he’s so *incredibly* sensitive and needy when his ass is being played and toyed with

Omg anon. My sweet anon. Thank you for sending this to me OVER SIX MONTHS AGO 😭 I'm so sorry it took me so long. I could lie and say I didn't see it, or that I was saving it for pride month, but I've literally written and re-written this one like 3 times over to get it right. Thank you for your patience, I hope you're still out there and see this lol.

Without further ado, enjoy this gay shit and happy pride! 🏳️‍🌈

Guys - Joel Miller x ftm! Reader

Word Count: 5,849 Rating: 18+ mdni Warnings: brief talks about gender dysphoria as it relates to sex, amab terminology for afab genitalia, reader is on T and has bottom growth, reader has top surgery scars, oral sex, rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, Joel sucks the strap Betas: my literal soulmates @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar thank you so much for all your help and feedback on this 💕

Joel, 41

New to dating and to men. Recent empty nester trying to figure things out.

It wasn’t promising, this man’s dating profile. But god did he look gorgeous in those three selfies that looked like they were taken on a Motorola Razr— the original one.

Still. You gave him a chance. And now you’re pleasantly surprised by the man he is.

The stoicism is just shyness, you find, a little timid exploring his sexuality for the first time. And the old-fashioned way about him influences his music taste and beer choices— not his ideals.

You knew he was bisexual, but people born in his generation, in Texas, aren’t often open-minded.

You’re surprised, is the thing, about how he’s reacted to you being a trans guy and how he treats you. Like a bro, but better, because he blushes when you tell him he looks nice and gets nervous when he wants to kiss you.

His nerves don’t last too long. He waits a gentlemanly amount of dates before finally accepting your invite inside, and then sucks the life out of you through your t-dick.

When you return the favor, and slip a finger just past his taint, he loses his fucking mind. It’s all you can do to not rub your grubby little hands together and laugh like an evil movie villain.

You gather him up into your arms as he comes down, panting and glistening a delicious sheen of sweat all over. He nuzzles into the scars on your chest and his sigh tickles through the wiry hairs there.

“Never had anyone touch me like that before.”

His voice is gruff, but still wavers with a tint of vulnerability.

“Did you like it?”

Then he laughs, deep chuckles that you feel in your own chest.

“Too much for my own good, I reckon.”

And just like that, a plethora of possibilities stretch out in expanse in your mind’s eye. You’re gonna have so much fun with him.

You give him time to ruminate, send him off with a nice goodnight kiss and plans for another date night.

A movie night. He shows up in gray sweatpants that should be illegal and a tight navy shirt that hugs his arms. You reach out and touch as you greet him with a kiss, and try to will the blood away from your cock so you can at least start the movie.

You’ve got your bedroom all set up. Your bed is a nest of pillows and blankets, the lighting is low with candles and dim lamps, and everything you need is prepped and ready just out of sight in your bedside drawer. It’s all in hopes that it eases his mind, gets him relaxed and cozy enough to enjoy every bit of what you have planned for him.

He smells like oranges and eucalyptus when you snuggle against his side, warm and bright and very clearly freshly showered. He leans into you but his jaw is tight and clenched as the title sequence plays out. You settle your leg on top of his, press your nose even deeper into those slightly graying curls and kiss a spot behind his ear that makes his shoulders go a bit more lax.

You smile against his skin, let your hand splay out over his chest to feel his thumping heartbeat.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were tryin’ to take advantage of me,” he mumbles.

You chuckle, shift your leg a little higher, and find he’s already starting to fill out the front of his pajamas.

“Maybe you don’t know any better.”

His breath hitches, right there under your palm, stuttering his built chest. It makes you twitch in your briefs and squeeze his solid pec.

He’s been texting you later at night than usual these past few days. You know he’s been touching himself the way you touched him the last time you were together. You know that just last night he came all over his shower tile with two fingers inside himself, thinking about you. He told you this.

But still, he’s bashful now, maybe a little anxious. His foot bounces underneath your shared blanket and his rough, calloused fingers tap a frantic rhythm on your thigh.

“Joel,” you mumble, “are you okay?”

He nods immediately, clearing his throat.

“‘Course I am.”

But his Adam's apple bobs almost comically when he answers, and his lips twitch upward but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“It’s okay if you’re nervous. We don’t have to do anything.”

His head shakes again, fast, and it’s kinda cute how he’s seemingly turned into a bobble head.

“I’m not—” he sighs, squints his eyes closed and leans his head back against your headboard. He huffs and mumbles something that sounds a lot like ‘it’s stupid’ under his breath.

“Not stupid,” you insist.

He opens his eyes back up and they’re so wide and deep brown when they look at you.

“Feel like I’m all bark ‘n no bite, textin’ you about it last night… and now I’m shakin’ in my boots.”

You roll your eyes but you smile at him.

“You think I haven’t done the exact same thing about a million times? It’s practically a queer right of passage.”

He bites at his plush bottom lip. You can’t look away as his teeth release it and leave it glistening in the warm orange lights of your bedroom.

“I want to. Bad. Just— go easy on me.”

You hum, nuzzle back into your spot along his neck.

“I’ll be so gentle, Joel. I’m gonna make it so good for you. All you gotta do is sit back and relax, and tell me what feels good.”

“Fuck, yeah, okay.”

Your smile spreads against his warm skin, and that’s where you start. His ear, the shell of it, the lobe. The taut tendons in his neck as your hand creeps under his shirt. His collarbone, once he’s thrown his shirt off. His nipples, something you have yet to explore, and feel delight all over again when it makes him whine high in the back of his throat. You backtrack just to capture his lips again, let him lick into your mouth and nibble on the tip of your tongue until he begins to liquify under your touch and rock his hips into nothing.

Your hand spans his flank, feels every tensing twitch of his muscles there. He sighs as his tongue curls against yours, and it warms your already heated face. You explore lower, tease at his waistband, and then flatten your palm to dip below. You’re sandwiched between the mattress and his asscheek, fuzzy like a peach and just as plump. When you squeeze it he hums and turns more toward you, allows you better access to knead it.

Arousal trickles through you, oozing slow but steady. Your head swims with it. Foggy, lazy, serene but intense. You roll your hips into him and let yourself make the noises you normally try to suppress, because you want him to know just how much you’re into this too.

But he’s straining against the jersey knit of his sweats, and his lips tremble against yours, and you have to define the line between worship and torture before you get lost in it. So you squirm down his body and watch how his eyes are nearly black, how his lips blush in the lamplight, how his beautiful sturdy chest heaves.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you sigh.

His stomach wavers under your lips, and he huffs and shuts his eyes and bites his lips and he’s perfect.

You nip at his hip bones, marvel at the thin, silky skin there. Following the trail of hair that entices you down, you curl your fingers around his waistband and flutter your gaze up. He’s nodding before you can even focus on his face, tilting his hips up to encourage you.

You unwrap him like a present, a slow anticipation until his cock springs free. The clear string that leaks from his slit reassures you that this quiet, timid Joel is just nervous. That the way he bites his lip when you shove a pillow under his hips is more anticipation than fear.

He’s so beautiful like this. You don’t know where to begin. You kiss the hinge of his thigh, nuzzle into the heady scent of him, close your eyes and then open them again when you realize you don’t want to miss a moment of this. Your nails drag up and down all the sparse hairs above his knee, and you only freeze when you hear a hitch in Joel’s breath above you.

“Okay?” You ask, searching his expression.

He nods and you watch his chest inflate with a purposeful breath.

“Yeah, just… not used to anyone wantin’ me like this.”

God.

His words slice right through you.

“Well… get used to it, cowboy.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, but his cock pulses next to your face.

Then, you develop a one-track mind, dead set on making Joel feel wanted, just like this, exactly the way he is.

His cock jerks again when you breathe on it, and then once more when you take the head into your mouth. He hisses and you don’t give him time to get his bearings. Just slowly sink down as far as you can and let his groan fill your ears.

You suckle, tease him under your tongue before you pull back and then slowly sink down again.

His noises are going to drive you insane. Surprised gasps, calculated exhales, a little whimper so quiet you know he’s trying not to let it escape.

His hands find your shoulders, squeezing and releasing, over and over, like a nervous tick. It only encourages you to take more of him and to bob your head faster. You start to drool from the effort, and you catch it in your hand and caress it over his sac. He makes another one of those noises and you press down into the mattress to alleviate even a fraction of the tension.

Slowly, like you’re trying not to spook him, you work your fingers behind his balls, to that smooth strip of skin just behind it. His thighs clench, and his hips twitch, and he curses above you in a low, gravelly tone.

You reach farther back, but before you make it to the fun part, he’s pushing on your shoulder to move you off of his cock.

“Careful–” he gasps, “gettin’ so close already.”

He looks bashful when your gaze flickers up to him. You just smile, and tell him to breathe, and place teasing kisses over his thighs. When you feel his muscles release their strain, you sneak a hand under his knee. He gets with the program, planting his foot flat on the bed, and then the other.

“You’re doing so good,” you whisper, almost scared to tell him, hesitant to lay it on too thick.

The way his thighs tremble on either side of your head tells you he’s more than fine with it.

You take one of his balls into your mouth, swirl abstract patterns with your tongue until his cock starts to jerk above you. You kiss between them, nuzzle them with your nose. It’s hard to snap yourself out of it. You’d be so content to lie here for hours and revere every nook and cranny of him.

But Joel’s shaking with anticipation, and you’re harder than you’ve ever been in your entire life. So you sink yourself lower into the mattress and crane your neck and lick one long stripe across his hole.

“Jesus fuckin’– shit.”

His legs wobble, threatening to trap your face between them.

“That okay?”

“Yes! Yeah, god… Didn’t think I’d like that so much.”

You’re able to hide your smirk from him, but you know he hears your dark chuckle.

“Good. Just… relax, yeah?”

He hums in agreement. His hand stops fisting the sleeve of your shirt and smoothes it out instead. Something about it makes your heart pound harder and feel twice as heavy.

Without the element of surprise, you’re able to coax his cheeks apart with your thumbs. You stroke the hairs there, finer than other places on his body, almost soft. You gently brush against his hole and it spasms under your touch.

Beautiful.

You don’t mean to say it out loud, but you do, and Joel huffs and tells you to shut up in the weakest voice you’ve ever heard come from him. But you yield. Your mouth has so much more to offer, anyway.

His hole flutters against your tongue and you groan at the feeling of it. Already so eager for you. You flick against it, rapid, and then press flat to feel how he responds. It makes him whine, all hoarse and high-pitched. The sounds make you ache. You want to be inside of him so bad it’s bordering on painful.

Joel shares the sentiment. You stiffen your tongue and he sucks you in, his tight rim squeezing around you.

“Christ almighty,” he breathes.

You chuckle against him. It almost sounds like he is praying; his voice is full of awe and begging for mercy. He chuckles too, though it’s choked and thick in his throat. It warms you, makes you feel floaty as you get back to lapping him up and spearing him on your tongue.

He feels so good. He’s warm and soft, and becomes pliant so much quicker than you thought he would. He urges you on with weak little pleas, with the crude hitches in his breath. He even grinds down into you, begging, as some of his pre-cum dribbles onto your cheek.

“More,” he says.

It doesn’t register at first. You’re too busy trying to get your tongue as far into him as possible. But soon enough he says it again, louder and unmistakable.

You wonder what you look like to him when you finally retreat from between his thighs. You can feel your own saliva drying on your cheeks and chin, feel your chest heaving like you’ve just run a goddamn marathon.

“You want more?”

He just nods, and takes his cock in his hand.

You’re overdressed, you realize. In too much of a hurry to get him where you wanted him that you didn’t even level the playing field. So you shed your clothes in haste, unceremoniously, wiping your mouth with your shirt before throwing it elsewhere, and wiggling out of your pants without much grace. But it doesn’t seem to bother Joel, your inelegance. In fact, the way he’s looking at you makes him look like he’s hungry, or possessed. It makes a whole new swath of flames engulf you.

He sits up, and you want to protest, tell him to just take it easy, that it’s all about him. But he grabs you before you can even open your mouth. His big, calloused hand lands on the back of your neck and he kisses you.

It surprises you, given where you had just been, and the fact that he’s never let anyone do that to him before. But he licks into you like a madman, like he wants to erase any trace of him from your mouth.

It’s also impossible to hide how worked up you are, now. His other hand finds the evidence, your hard t-dick and the slickness right below it that trickles down your thighs. He growls, much more confident now, and gets a few quick strokes in before you’re pushing him back down onto your bed. His brow raises in question, and you tut at him.

“Not right now, big guy. This is about you.”

His mouth is open, breaths puffing out fast and heavy. His eyes travel up and down your body again, so tangible that it makes you shiver.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot, though.”

And out of all the things you’ve done so far, you may be more flustered than you’ve ever been before. Because usually he’s such a gentleman about it, calls you handsome, or a looker, or something equally as cliche and old-fashioned. But now it seems that all the push he needed to let his guard down was a hearty rim job. It’s excellent.

“Ditto,” you smirk, “but I’ve got plans for you.”

He hums, settles back down into the pillows. He watches as you lean over to your bedside table, curious, but not curious enough to ruin the surprise and take a peek. You just retrieve the lube anyways and settle down beside him. One last time before your hands get messy, you dote on him, swipe his hair off of his damp forehead and thumb at the bald patch in his beard.

“You wanna take my fingers now?”

His mouth opens, but no words come out. He just nods and gapes at you.

You readjust, get him to hike his opposite knee up and then slide his other thigh between your legs. You curse at the sweet pressure and friction, and he encourages you by pressing into you harder and groaning. You hand him the lube and in a team effort he pumps it out onto your middle and ring fingers. You notice his shaking hand, but you don’t comment once he reaches down to lift his package out of the way. Still just nervous. It’s endearing.

“Just breathe, okay?”

He does, a slow breath through his nose, and his exhale tickles your forehead. You smile at him, and he smiles back, but closes his eyes when your fingers slip between his cheeks.

You find it instantly, tight and quivering under the pad of your finger. He takes another breath, much quicker than the last, sucked through his nostrils in surprise. His head digs into the pillow under him now, and you apply gentle pressure until he finally lets you in.

It’s just one finger for now, but he still gasps and digs his nails into your back. You kiss where you can reach easily, the smooth skin of his collar bone, and press deeper. You feel his forehead press against the top of your own. He clenches around your finger when you pull it out just slightly, and relaxes when you press back in.

“That’s it,” you tell him.

He whimpers, and you fuck him softly, just with one, just to get him used to the friction. You grind into his leg and bite the skin of his pec when arousal jolts through you. It feels fucking amazing, syncing the motion of your hips to the pace of your finger. You’re going to get to fuck him soon, and the anticipation only turns you on more.

You tilt your head up to look at Joel. His eyes are closed, and his lips are pursed, like he’s concentrating. It would be cute if you didn’t have a raging hard-on for him.

“How’s it feel, Joel?”

His breath catches in his windpipe when he tries to speak. He clears his throat.

“Better than when I did it.”

You quirk your eyebrow.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. You’re more gentle.”

That makes you laugh, and he chuckles too. You kiss him, just because you want to, like every single part of your body needs to touch his. And a little bit to distract him, because you slip a second finger into him. This time when he moans, you feel it against your mouth, right before his teeth sink into your bottom lip.

His breaths are shaky with pleasure. You can feel it in the way starts to rock his hips, the way he starts to stroke his cock again. He pulls away from your kiss and his head rolls back and forth with his eyes closed tight. He’s mewling through every exhale, uninhibited, a string of vocal indulgence– needy. There’s a vein in his neck that’s engorged and obscene, but that’s not what you want to look at, however enticing it may be. He’s turned away from you, stuffing his face into the pillow, and that just won’t do.

“Don’t hide,” you tell him.

He huffs, a high-pitched and weak noise sneaking out as his back arches. But he doesn’t turn back toward you. Cruelly, you press your fingers deeper and curl them, and your pillowcase falls from between his teeth as he cries out.

“C’mon, I wanna see how good I’m making you feel.”

That does it. He whips his head back toward you and his brows draw together.

“Fuck. It’s– s’good.”

He grinds down into your fingers and his mouth hangs open. You don’t let up, keep stroking against his prostate. He feels incredible around you, squeezing your fingers rhythmically. And he looks gorgeous, clearly stunned by this new discovery inside of him. When you glance down, he’s grasping the base of his dick, and it’s drooling down the shaft.

“You take it so good,” you respond.

He does. So open and accepting for someone so new. It’s got your chest feeling so sticky.

“Will you… fuck me?”

Your hand slows to a stop, still snug inside of him, but he continues.

“Wanna feel it. Want you inside me.”

And god, his eyes are so big and wide that you feel like you can see into his soul. He’s being so vulnerable, and for you.

“You sure you’re ready?”

He just nods and tilts his hips, as if to prove a point.

“I have to… y’know.”

You tilt your head toward the bedside table, and he nods in understanding. You gently pull out of him, and his hips jolt when you slip from his heat, but he’s still watching you with so much… so much in his eyes that you can’t decipher any of it.

All you know is now you feel awkward, all of a sudden. You wipe your hand on your discarded shirt, and then pull open your drawer, and it’s so annoying, honestly, to go through these next few steps. You feel like every second you take is wasting Joel’s heat and eagerness and arousal.

But maybe you’re overthinking it. Because as you step into your harness straps, Joel’s gaze is focused and intense. He’s slowly jerking himself off as he watches you pull it up your legs and into place. When you work on securing the first buckle, he reaches out to hold it in place for you.

It makes your breath catch in your lungs, the way his big, rough hands are so gentle as he helps you along. All the while his gaze makes you feel like he wants to eat you alive. Like this isn’t an inconvenience for him, like it doesn’t make you any lesser than. Like he’s into you, all of you.

You retrieve your smallest cock. On the thinner side, only four inches, and you think it’ll be perfect for easing him into this. A breath shudders out of him when you’ve secured it through the o-ring and he looks you up and down.

But then he’s moving, flipping onto his stomach and crawling to the edge of the bed where you stand. His eyes dance from your eyes, to your cock, and it’s like slow motion when his tongue peeks out to lick at his lips. When he looks back up at you, his puppy eyes are unbearable.

“You look so good. Been thinkin’ ‘bout it since our last date.”

It makes you throb, makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention. You don’t know what to say.

“Can I suck it?”

“Shit,” you breathe, like the wind’s been knocked out of you, “you don’t have to.”

“Want to,” he mumbles.

His hands find your outer thighs respectively, but he’s still looking up at you for permission.

“Of course,” you tell him, threading your fingers through his hair, “go ahead.”

You take that last half-step toward him and he opens his mouth wide. He sticks his tongue out and maintains eye contact and it doesn’t look like he’s never sucked a dick before. In fact, it looks like he gets paid good money to do it on camera. Christ.

He licks you first, just under the head, then swirls around it. He even places the gentlest kiss to the tip and it makes your heart flutter like his eyelashes do. He only closes his eyes when he wraps his lips around it and sucks, cheeks hollow, like a goddamn pro.

And you can’t feel it, but you can feel it. You can feel him taking you, receiving you, wanting you, just as much as you want him. The way he slowly sinks down on it is grateful– devotion.

He squeezes your thighs, and he goes as far as he can, until his nose presses against your belly and he’s gagging. Even then, he only pulls back a little, keeps you there in his mouth all safe and snug. It’s so much, maybe too much right now, on top of all this newness.

You tug at his hair a bit, and let him bob up and down a few more times before you pull him off.

His chest rises and falls, and those plush lips are so shiny, and if you don’t fuck him now you might just spontaneously combust.

“I gotta fuck you, Joel.”

He hisses his approval and scrambles back onto the bed.

“How do you want it? You call the shots.”

You stroke your silicone cock as he settles against the pillows again. He even readjusts one under his hips, and that’s enough answer for you to crawl back on top of him.

“Wanna see you,” he whispers.

Your heart palpitates at that, wicked and unruly in your ribcage, but you smile through the piercing feeling.

“Me too.”

The lube is still on his side of the bed. You get between his legs; he spreads them nice and wide for you without you having to ask, presenting himself, totally surrendering to you. It’s becoming super real now, and your gut is starting to swell with that familiar, white-hot pressure.

He startles a bit when your cock presses against his hole. You shush him softly and pet his thigh with one hand while the other squeezes lube out along the length of your cock. You let some drip onto his hole and spread it with your fingers. He sighs and moans and you feel him clench around nothing.

“You ready?”

“Please.”

If you would have told yourself all those weeks ago that ‘Joel, 41, New to dating and to men’ would be on his back for you and begging to take your strap, you’d have laughed in your own face. But now, you sigh as the mushroom head catches on his rim. It’s fascinating to watch how he takes you, how he only resists for a split second before he accepts you in. And when you slip in, you really slip in.

He pants and whines as you stop halfway. There’s a plea that hardly gets to leave his lips before you’re balls deep, just like that, thighs pressed to the back of his. His head is thrown back when you finally glance up, cock still rock hard, but his brows are drawn together and he’s holding his breath.

“Okay?”

He nods.

“Yeah, yes– shit.”

You watch his Adam's apple wiggle in his throat, and you’re not completely convinced.

“Tell me if you want to stop.”

“I don’t.”

It’s the most commanding he’s sounded all night, and hits you hard right where it counts.

Finally, you pull out and then thrust back in. It’s slow and it’s careful but that doesn’t keep it from feeling fantastic, euphoric, right. He keens, and it’s his enthusiasm that sends another shockwave through your nervous system. It’s doing it for him, and that does it for you.

You keep your thrusts controlled, full of purpose, letting him warm up. You know you look ridiculous, your jaw dropped in awe as you stare down between your bodies. He’s taking your cock like it’s the easiest thing in the world, moaning for it. His hands tighten in the sheets beside him, and loosen, and tighten again. You feel so powerful knowing you’re the one that gets to give him this, that he wants it from you.

“So full,” he mumbles.

Your eyes snap back up to his face. He’s watching you, how your stomach tenses and your hips grind into him. You wish you could film him, and the way you disappear into him and stretch him wider than he’s ever been before, so he can see how incredible he is.

“Good full?”

He huffs out a laugh and nods his head.

“Can go faster.”

The way his voice sounds so broken and gruff makes you bite your lip.

Humming, you obey, gripping his hip for leverage, and that alone makes him groan before you’ve even changed pace. You tip over him a bit, rest your hand on the mattress beside his neck so you can feel the heat radiate from his body. You press a kiss to his chest, and you’re not sure if that’s what makes him whimper, or if it’s the way you snap your hips into his for the first time.

He curses, calls out your name in a broken moan. You’d be worried it’s too much too fast if it weren’t for the way he hooks his leg up around your hip. Now the angle is easier, lets you grind into him at a quicker pace. The pressure isn’t quite where you need it to be, too high up on your mound to press against your cock underneath. But the steady slapping into his ass sends enough vibration between your legs that it’s making you dizzy anyways.

Your hips start to ache a bit from the effort, but the sounds he’s making help you ignore the twinges in your joints. He’s more vocal than he’s ever been, rhythmic whines and moans falling from his bitten lips like you’re fucking them right out of him.

“You think you can come like this?” you ask him.

You shove your hips into him harder, teasing a bit, and he shouts as his head knocks back against the pillow.

“Tryin’ pretty hard not to.”

“Shit, Joel.” You press your face into the hollow of his neck and taste the salty skin there. “You don’t have to hold back. You’re taking me so good, you feel so fucking good.”

He whimpers, and you feel his hand snake between your bodies. Your rhythm falters a bit so you can pull back and give him room. His leg is still hiked up around your hip, so you grab him at the knee and push it toward his chest. He moans his approval, eyes shut tight, mouth hanging open, so you do the same with his other leg. This way, you can really pound into him, as deep as possible, and he loves it. You watch with unabashed heat in your eyes as you bounce him on your strap, as his hand works over his dripping cock in a blur of tan skin.

“Haah– shit, shit, ah fuck.”

He sounds so fucking good. You encourage him to let it out, to let go, and he follows your commands so perfectly.

“‘M gonna come, harder, fuck me, fuck me–”

You’re so close yourself, hearing him beg for you. Though your thighs are trembling, you fuck him harder, pull nearly all the way out every time before you piston back in. His face is all screwed up, eyes clenched tight and his bottom lip between his teeth until finally

He lets go. His jaw drops around a surprised shout, and his back arches, and he comes completely unraveled. He shakes with it as his cock shoots stripe after stripe of his release, up his chest, over his stomach, even his neck. You fuck him through it until his hand slows over his cock and his eyes open, nonplussed, and he’s whimpering and tapping out against your thigh.

“So good, Joel. So fucking hot,” you praise him through labored breaths. “Gonna pull out slow, just relax.”

He does, as much as possible in his state, and as soon as his fluttering hole releases you you’re scrambling to release the buckles of your strap. It’s all you can do to push it low enough down your thighs that it’s out of the way. You half-collapse onto Joel, your face against his sternum as you jerk yourself off. It’s pathetic how little time it takes, just a few strokes and you’re babbling at him, eulogizing him as your orgasm flushes through your system.

Then it’s just the sound of the both of your labored breaths, and the TV you forgot was even on in the first place. You let the afterglow wash over you like a gentle summer breeze, until you feel Joel’s stomach shake under your face.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. You know this is common, but it still sends you a bit on edge when you look up and Joel’s got his arm draped over his eyes. You see a teardrop trickling down the side of his face and scramble to pull yourself up and lie next to him.

“You okay, Joel?”

He nods and takes a deep breath in.

“Better’n okay. Dunno why–”

“It’s okay, I know. It’s a lot, isn’t it?”

He just nods under the comfort of his arm.

“Happens to me, too, sometimes. It’s normal when it’s intense. Did it feel good?”

He laughs, all wet and thick, but he uncovers his eyes to look up at you.

“So fucking good.”

You smile at him, gently place your hand on the side of his neck, and kiss away the salt water on his cheeks. He lets you with a dazed smile on his face, before he captures your lips with his own.

You stroke at the sweat on his chest, at the trembling muscles of his stomach, until you feel him settle and fall lax against the mattress. You don’t go far, just enough to grab the towel you set up in your drawer. He watches you with lazy eyes as you clean him up, just enough to be comfortable lying here for a while longer before getting up for a shower.

His breaths still come out shaky when you pull him to you, settle him right on top of your gooey heart. You stroke his hair, and he laughs at something on the TV, and you let yourself hope for a million more nights exactly like this one.

#fic rec #this was so fucking good

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