#YUMMMYYYYY
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mmmmm delicious post, send my compliments to the op
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Hi my sweet Eva!!! Happy weekend! Hope itâs been so good so farâ€ïžđ„°â€ïž hugs and love!
Look at him! So soft and beautiful! It reminded me of a Nick Fowler drabble I wrote that fits this gif đ€it was for an olddd challenge lol
The Perfect Fit
And ps I donât care if it fits or not⊠Iâll take it hehehe đđ
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My mom's buying me this fragrance set and she asked why I wanted this particular scent (not the usual thing i'd wear) but how to tell her i want it cos it reminds me of shuji babe
#its the tobacco rum and bourbon notes#yummmyyyyy#gonna buy it and spray it on my things#then gonna moan out loud cos it reminds me of him
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STOP IT THE TENSION???? THE GLASS SCENE????
Hello!! đ€ I was wondering if you could write something where Joel is the readerâs college professor, and then Prof. Miller INSISTS that reader comes over to his home for tutoring assistance, (because of failed tests or bad essays), and then finally coaxes her into letting him have his way with her.
hi nonnie! here it is! i hope you enjoy đ
extra credit
6.2k | joel miller x afab!reader (professor!joel au)
rating: 18+ MDNI
warning: professor!joel au, age gap (joel is 46, reader is 21), soft!dom joel, pining, consensual sex, pet names (darlin', doll, baby), oral (f receiving), face riding, fingering, piv (unprotected, wrap it folks), squirting, joel spitting over the reader's ass for 0.5 seconds (OOPS IDK???), a pretty dress with easy access, hints of after care, spoiler: honestly prof. miller could've told reader to just do the paper in a different format but â that's the point đ€
When you picked your major, English was a necessary credit needed to achieve your goals. It wasnât your strong suit, but you werenât one to quit just because you were bad at it. So far you were coasting through, getting a mix of good and bad grades in your English Lit class when the last essay before finals was presented.
Among the crowd in Professor Millerâs lecture hall, you typically sat in the front. He hands out papers, hovering by your desk. Giving you a look of disapproval, he places the grade face down. You peel the pages in anticipation, a sense of dread falling over you when you scan the big, red mark of failings. âShit,â you say to yourself. That was it. That was the grade that was the defining factor of whether or not you had to retake this course. You use the side of your hand to wipe sneaky tears in falling. You failed. Doing your best to keep it together, youâre not sure you even heard the rest of the lecture from the possibilities running through your mind. What were you to do? How would you recover?
Class was over before you knew it. The sounds of bags zipping and feet stepping, you stayed seated until you were able to look over to Professor Miller. Dressed in black slacks, a brown button-up with leather shoes. His hair was slick, the slightest bit of salt and pepper patched at his sideburns. He looked like he had it all figured out, and that struck a nerve. A feeling of jealousy that he knew what he was doing, and you obviously did not.
Professor Miller calls your name when the class is emptied, and you sniffle, standing up to straighten your skirt. Your manicured nails pick up your essay as you walk over in an attempt to hand it to him. âI guess you want this back,â you hold your full bottom lip between your teeth.
âDid you read the material?â Professor Miller inquires, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. His voice is so dark and honied in comparison to his scowl. Proving not to judge a book by its cover. The irony.
âWell, I did, but⊠I struggle with this stuff. Predicates and imagery? Iâd rather be learning about biology. But I need this course, you know. And IâŠ,â you swallow hard. God, the last thing you want is to embarrass yourself in front of your teacher. He doesnât know you, out of the hundreds of people he teaches â how could he possibly even remember your name?
âHey,â Professor Miller takes his glasses off, putting them on the table. He looks as concerned as you are over it and crosses his arms. Keeps his distance. âIt happens, you know. There are things we can do to accommodate. Youâre very bright, Iâd hate to see you fail. You have options. I canât let you rewrite the paper, but I could tutor you for your final. Another option is getting a student tutor, but itâs rare. You know the workload of this university. Not a lot of people are willing to sacrifice their precious time.â
âAnd you are?â You look up at him with grateful, bright eyes and he loves it. The praise just from your stare alone is cause for him to clear his throat.
âListen, for someone like you, I believe it is important to help. You just need a little more time understanding what youâre doing, is all. Iâm not in my office for the rest of the weekend, though. Youâd have to come by my houseâŠ,â he watches those pretty eyes widen again, and that makes a smirk fall over his greying features, âif thatâs okay, of course. If itâs not, we could work something else out.â
You think about it. Youâve never had a teacher invite you over, much less someone who looked the way he did. Though, that was neither here nor there. His lips formed words you couldnât even pay attention half the time in hearing. Maybe that was part of the reason why you were failing in the first place. But you needed to pass, and if he could help you â and was so kind enough to do it in the first place, you should jump at the first opportunity.
âOkay. Is there a particular time youâd like me to be there?â
âAre you busy tonight?â
What the fuck. That makes your heart race.  Tonight? Tonight?! Tonâ
âTonight⊠tonight is good.â How did you even form the words?
âPerfect,â he started, bending down to write his address on a sticky note â his cologne wafts in your direction, and you clamp your legs shut reflexively. âHereâs my address. 7 oâclock.â
âSeven. Okay⊠thank you, Professor Miller.â
âPlease, call me Joel.â His teeth gleamed in a smile, and his personality shined through it.
A personality you didnât get to see too often from your position behind a desk.
Shit.
---
According to your phone, he didnât live very far from campus, and you were able to walk to his house without breaking too much of a sweat. You decided on a black dress, although it was a casual one, that paired nicely with your sneakers. It had buttons down the front with a relaxed collar. Your bag slung over your shoulder when you knocked on his door, a nervousness fluttering in your stomach. It was such a weird thing, meeting your professor in his home. Much less having him request you call him by his first name.
Your knees all but buckled when you saw him on the other side of the door.
He looks⊠young in his jeans. His t-shirt stretched over the broadness of his shoulders, but itâs still loose enough that it doesnât look ill-fitted. His stomach, soft at the bottom. You flash him a smile, but internally youâre reeling over how casual he looks. Youâd never seen him like this, not even during those school meetings that were informal.
âHey, you,â heâs bright, too. Charismatic as he invites you into his home. Takes your bag, lets you take your shoes off until youâre in your socks. His words hit your stomach, how easy it is for him to talk to you like youâre the brightest sunflower. Whatâd you even do to deserve it?
âHi, Profâ uh, Joel,â you titter, taking in the curated decor of his home. It was sophisticated, yet a little cheesy at the same time. His alumni cover his walls and a mix of pictures. Some with a couple of young girls you assumed were his children. He has children, you swallow.
âWasnât too hard to find this place, right? When I moved here, I wanted to make sure I wasnât too far â not much of a morninâ person,â Joel laughs and you do, too. Fuck, this feels so easy. But itâs nothing â itâs nothing.
What you donât pick up on right away is his open body language. He places your bag on his couch and you follow him like a puppy â he likes that. You look so soft under the sienna hue of his lights, your hair falling into place naturally. Plump and ripe for the taking. Of course, he meant it when he said heâd tutor you, but the air got thick the moment the door was shut behind the two of you. What were you doing to him?
Joelâs large frame walks over to his bar cart, turning on his heel to face you, âInterested?â
âHuh?â You blink and he laughs again at your deer caught in the headlights expression. Youâre cute.
âDo you drink?â
âOh, uh⊠water would be nice.â
âWater it is,â Joelâs pleasant, gesturing his hand for you to follow him. And you do â that puppy he was coming to know, right to his kitchen. You study the marble countertops, the farmhouse style kitchen sink.
âSo, tutoring,â he starts, taking a glass from the cupboard, he fills it with filtered water before handing it to you â you thank him with a nod, âI was thinking we could look at your paper, and then go over how to fix things in the future?â When you take the water from him, your fingers graze. The first sign of contact, your head continues to nod unthinkingly, but all that scorches your mind is how his skin feels.
âThat sounds good,â you overcompensate, shoving the ideas from your mind. He was your teacher, and it was easy to get back into the mode of why you were here.
Joelâs expression doesnât change much, still the same grin with hooded eyes and wrinkles at his forehead. The two lines between his brow. âAlright, well I have it on the coffee table. Letâs get settled on the couch, and weâll get started, okay?â
So you agree. You take your glass of water and follow him back to the couch where everything was set up â your paper, his laptop. All of the correction marks in your face as you sit down. You take another sip of water before placing it down on the coaster. You dread it, you really do. Going over your failures? You scrunch your nose up to yourself, but Joel notices when youâre both settled on the cushions.
âYou know, Voltaire said, âperfect is the enemy of goodâ,â Joel bends his knee on the couch, thigh pressing into the cushion to turn to you and it causes the couch to shift. The quote makes you giggle a little to yourself, and you shake your head. âWhat?â His eyebrow quirks in curiosity.
âVoltaire also popularised the story of Newtonâs apple, doesnât make it true.â
âHuhâŠ,â Joel trailed off, keeping his eye on you â his tongue skating over his bottom lip in thought. You were so quick all he could really do was laugh, and that made your shoulders relax. Makes you feel more in control and comfortable to laugh at yourself. âYou got an answer for everything?â
âNot everything. See this,â you pick up your paper, thumbing over the ink of corrections the man on the couch made and you shrug, âI donât really understand why this got marked wrong.â Joelâs gaze flashes over your mouth when your teeth press into the plushness of your bottom lip â he should be given some damn award for having so much self control around you.
âWrong format. This citation works for your research papers, right?â He nods with you before leaning in closer, that damn cologne coming back in full force just like earlier in the day. You all but freeze when his warm touch graces you again â this time, fingers tracing over where youâre holding the paper. âOh,â your voice is soft, a bit of disappointment pangs at your ribs. You were so busy you didnât even realise that was the majority of the issues you had.
âSo⊠itâs not really what I wrote, itâs how I wrote it? You asked if I read the material?â
âExactly. If you read the syllabus, youâd see the required format. Listen, there are some ways for extra credit, I do think this is salvageable.â
You suddenly feel silly.
You did all that work, Professor Miller was kind enough to let you into his home, and it was all for some redundant formatting. An open palm curls over your chin as you look at the paper in deep contemplation.
âI really fucked up,â you say, hushed in the space.
âYou didnât fuck anything up,â you manage an exhale of amusement at the sound of your teacher curse. You shift your gaze to look at him. The curls at the nape of his neck, the way his t-shirt dropped enough so you could see his neck, his chest. The freckles that splayed over his aged skin. âYou just needed someone to tell you what to do.â
That was the loaded statement. And a pointed one, it seems. Someone to tell you what to do. And Joel wanted to be that person? Your eyebrows raise for a flash, thumbing over the paper.
âThat would be too easy,â you scratch at your neck idly before going for the glass of water, sipping in contemplation. â...I mean, I shouldâve known better.â
Joel takes the glass from you, offering himself a sip of your water and it stuns you speechless, doing your best not to convey it. Maybe he did that just because this was his house. That mustâve been it. He was comfortable, but goddamn â the eye contact he gave you when he swallowed the liquid.
It felt intentional.
He watches your features, vague as they were, in what to do next. He honestly wasnât so sure what he was doing either. What? I know how to give you extra credit, sweetheart. Too forward, too boastful, too⊠cheap. You deserved better than that. He saw you in class, how hard you were on yourself. He talked to your other teachers, how well you were doing in your other classes. He felt for you. And he was a bit lost in your eyes. You were all too pretty, too brilliant to be dimmed down to a fuck for extra credit. Joel could see that. He wasnât even sure what he was thinking, you had him distracted. You threw him off without even trying. The plight within him grew stronger as he handed back the glass.
âYouâre too hard on yourself,â Joel straightens up, his hand cups over your forearm in a way thatâs understanding, but also makes goosebumps rise. You look down to see where you connect and he pulls away slightly. âSorry, Iâ,â âNo, itâs okay,â you agree, âItâs okay. Youâre right.â
âItâs just, I see hundreds of bright, beautiful young people every year, but none of them have stood out to me like you.â He canât believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. The candor, the nerve. A filthy old man, thatâs all he was in the eyes of someone as sweet and innocent as you were. Even if you happened to be experienced â god, what was he thinking?!
Joel clears his throat, shifting a bit in his seat, but he sees the way your lips part, but your eyes donât show an ounce of shock or distain. They look soft, and⊠willing. You know that is because the pull at your core feels too strong to think of anything else. You look down at his left hand, making sure youâre not dreaming. Heâs not married? Youâd casually look at his hands from time to time during class and ignored the ache it gave you, but this? So close? Backed by the glow of his house? It was so different from the boys you were used to. In their dorms or disgusting apartments. It smelled as nice as it looked. You realise youâre not speaking, but the way you lean into him says more than you really ever could.
âI donât know what to say,â shyly, you touch your knuckles to your cheek, âyou should teach the guys that go here how to chat with someone.â
Itâs a mutter, but not to yourself. You drink one more mouthful of what you were offered before putting it back on the coaster. Honestly, any distraction was welcome to defer from the ever-present density in the room.
âThose guys donât know what theyâre talkinâ about anyway. I know I didnât at that age.â
There. The topic right in front of both of your faces.
âHow old at you, anyway?â You inquire, thumb mindlessly circling over your knee. Joel tracks it, licking over his lips as he answers. âForty-six. You?â
âTwenty-one.â
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
Thereâs this standstill, as if youâre both in the air together looking at each other in slow motion. How will this land? What are you both even doing here like this?
âIâm sure your boyfriend takes good care of you,â Joelâs eyes, round and bright brown, get lost in yours â the way your breath hitches, the shift of your thighs on his sofa. He wondered what you tasted like, what sounds you make when these boys who donât know what theyâre doing with their tongue attempt to eat you out. Do you fake it? Do you give it to them straight? Neither of you had a drink from that bar cart in the corner of the room, but somehow youâve become closer â and more intoxicated.
âDonât have one,â you respond softly, orbs flickering to the set of plush lips that grow more red the longer you let the tension build, âwhat about you? N-no partner?â
Your attempt in confidence wavering the longer he stares at you. Itâs like staring back into the sun and you have your brows knit together until the tug of muscle makes your forehead hurt â smoothing them apart with the twitch of muscle fibers.
âNo partner,â Joelâs hand settles on your thigh and you canât hold it back; you gasp. But you do something he doesnât anticipate, or well, you donât do something: you donât pull away.
How did you two get to the topic, anyhow?
How did you end up straddling his lap, for that matter?
Itâs within six eager seconds that his hand, hot and rough, touches your soft skin, and you â green, you â fervent, throw all inhibitions aside and lunge. Itâs more fluid than you realise, and his hands (both now) grip the backs of your bare thighs and you whimper at the sensation of him squeezing you. Your wetness against your cotton panties grows from the kneading alone. No, absolutely not, the boys back in the dorms didnât know how to do this.
It takes an even shorter time for your mouths to meet. Heâs first to kiss, and he tastes like coffee and his dinner, and the faintness of a cigarette â maybe early in the day? You couldnât tell, your head was swimming too deep in now to come back from.
And although his calloused fingers roll patterns into your soft skin, heâs just as willing. Just as desireful and you can feel it beg to be set free at the seam of his jeans. His tongue skirts against yours, hips rolling up the second yours tempt to roll down; causing you both to moan in each otherâs mouths.
It gets feverish after that. All teeth, tongue, bite.
You donât want to stop, you donât want to take a moment to breathe because fuck, that could stop things. That could make him realise what is happening.
But that only is another item to your list of naivety.
Because Joel, heâs ready. His masculine arms wrap around your frame to lift you up just enough so he can get out of his fucking jeans that he now regrets wearing. Shoulda been wearinâ sweats, but itâs effortless⊠eventually. He hurriedly pushes the thick fabric down until they hit at his thighs and youâre pushed down onto his boxers that â holy fucking shit â leave nothing to the imagination. âJoel, J-,â you pant between kisses, fingernails digging into the base of his neck, he pauses. Pulls away, gets a good look at your face.
âYâwant this?â And goddamn, you canât see yourself, but you imagine you look just as fucked out as he does. On the cusp of every little fantasy heâs had about you from the moment you sat down behind that desk.
âI want this,â you repeat. You werenât sure exactly when the nerves subsided, maybe because all of the blood is now rushed at the apex of your thighs, but you mean it.
You want this. You want Professor Miller.
âYou got me,â his breath dances over your lips before guiding you back a bit, âhere⊠Iâm going to lie back, I want you toâ Iâll show you.â Your lips quirk up at the fact heâs so flushed he canât even finish his sentence.
But that soon turns to you flushing when you realise his request. âI â what?â
âNo?â Joel sits up on his elbows, looking over to you and youâre worried youâve killed the mood. Itâs just, straddling his face? Blood rushes to your cheeks.
âIâve never done that⊠What if itâs bad?â His eyes, reassuring, but a deep shade of black now beckons you.
âDarlinâ, I think youâll be a natural. But I can teach you, if thatâs what you want.â
You swallow, straddling his knees somewhere at the bottom of the couch and you think about it.
Joel, on the other hand, was living in a fantasy of teaching you things in and out of school. Showing you how to make yourself feel good on his mouth â make you forget all about the essay that caused you grief today. He leans over, pushing it under the couch out of view for good measure.
âOkay,â you agree, though nerves still flood you. âOkay, you wanna take your panties off?â You lick your lips at that, biting back another whimper that brought you to this predicament in the first place. And you did â you wanted nothing more than to slip your underwear off and give into your pleasures. His voice was deep, graveled with the prospect of him fucking you senseless on his couch and who were you to deny him that?
Who were you to deny yourself that, more importantly.
âYeah,â doing as you say, you slip off your lace-trimmed undies and abandon them somewhere on your Professorâs floor. âFuck,â you mutter. This was naughty.
âAlready so good for me,â you werenât even sure that Joelâs voice could get deeper, or more inviting, but it does. You bite your lip and oblige when he pats his chest. Going over to him, you straddle just above his broad shoulders, and heâs almost out of view with him like this â somehow making it easier to just feel what he could do to you.
Joel on the other hand? All he can do is see the outline of your glistening core from the shadowed tent youâve made of your dress and his groans are muffled slightly from the fabric, âFuckinâ Christ,â he wants to devour you, but he takes his time instead.
Peppers kisses along your thighs that make you claw the armrest, causes you shiver at the contact and you canât believe this is happening. âJ-Joel,â you hesitate, but his hands are wrapped around your hips now, fingers digging into the breadth of your ass.
âSit.â Joel commands.
Oh, fuck.
Youâre almost certain youâll break skin at your lips from biting down so hard, but you do as youâre told. Anchoring down, itâs subtle at first â the brushing of his facial hair against your folds, his chin prying you apart. Then, itâs incredibly palpable. His lips are the first thing you feel as they press and kiss over your middle and as you shudder it only makes your muscles sink deeper on him. Youâre the first to moan, and then Joel, and his mouth is open when he invites you inside it.
âOh, my god,â thighs shaking, Joel flattens his tongue under the hood of your clit, a body part you were certain hadnât been touched by anyone else but yourself. There was no time to compare, the white hot pleasure coursed through your veins and he took his time with it, too. Made sure he was teasing you, his tongue dipping inside your entrance, as sloppy as it felt. âHmmn,â you canât speak, forearms resting on the armrest now as your head hangs between your shoulders and his fingers make pliable work of your asscheeks. Pushing you down, using your hips to move back and forth against his mouth â like heâs using you while you use him.
The air is thick under your dress, sticky and humid, as Joel swirls this tip of his devilish tongue in the most astonishing circles youâve ever experienced, and you know itâs because he has more experience than you do. Has so much to teach you, if you let him. Your mouth hangs open as you try to inhale, but itâs just too much. Especially with the way he thumbs into your stomach, then your pubic bone â lifting it just slightly to expose your clit to him. An angle, not even you have found yourself.
It almost feels like too much. Itâs intentional, the way his tongue flicks over that bundle of nerves right at the top of your cunt. Delicious, deliberate. Two fingers greet your entrance and it startles you, the way heâs rubbing your hole with his two fingers in slow circles before pressing them where you want them most.
âTell me you want it,â you hear, muffled and fucked, and you shiver at the slightest bit of lack of contact.
âI want it, I want your fingers â please!â
And that seems to send him over the edge of how much heâs willing to hold back because heâs exactly where he was. Mouth on your clit, but fingers skillfully pressing inside of you and you donât know how long youâll last. Not with the pads of his fingers tapping in the perfect tempo against the ridged spot inside you.
Thatâs when a weird sensation comes over you. A pressure, you felt like you had to pee and your insides pulled in more trying to keep it all contained. âIâ,â you start, but it happens so suddenly. Your orgasm rushes through you, convulsing and almost falling over the edge of the couch, you dig your fingernails into the upholstery. Your eyes roll back, and fuck, so are your hips. Unable to stop yourself using Joelâs mouth to keep you exactly right there. Pleasure pricks your skin, it feels like every cell is ignited â but you jump when you feel a rush of fluid come out of you. The pressure rebounding out, then rippling pleasure back inside you. Joel fucks you with his tongue and fingers until he feels you calm down.
âW-what, what⊠did I do?â You pant, and Joel is groaning, too. He lifts your hips to get lungfuls of oxygen, so dizzy on you and you notice how soaked his pair of fingers feel on your skin. Sits you down on his chest and you can see his face finally. Can see his mouth parting, gasping as his eyes are hooded and so gone. Curls stick to his forehead, his shirt a dampened colour at the collar. You blush heavily, embarrassed because you arenât even sure what that was. Did he hate that, was that weird?
âCâmere,â he growls with gritted teeth and sits up, the tables turning instantly. Joelâs stripping his shirt off, kicking every last bit of the bottom half he had on to be abandoned on the floor. His fingers remove the buttons, but he canât really get them â those fingers too big for the buttons. âHere,â you whisper, an intense feeling of lust falling over any self-conscious self talk you had. You undo the top of your dress one button at a time until your breasts are released from your bra â you moan when he has no problem spilling your tits from the satin, nipples in stiff peaks from your orgasm. And everything else.
âYou know what you did?â Joel asks, taking both of your nipples between his fingers from each hand. You moan, lifting your hips and he bites his lip when he sees your cunt front under your dress. âWhat was it?â You ask, curiously. Innocently.
âYou squirted fâme, baby,â he slurs, thumbing over your clit now as he gets a good look at you and heâs drunk on you. His cock throbbing against your thigh, he taps it against your skin before realising what he needed.
 âFuck,â Joel mutters and you can tell by the tone itâs not just at your appearance. âWhat is it?â You inquire, eyebrows knit.
âGotta get a condom,â you hear him mutter, getting onto one foot and you stop him. âNo. No. I want to feel you. Itâs okay, I donât get pregnantââ well that sentence isnât exactly how you mean for it to come out, but your mind is mush, your body feels boneless underneath him, and he chuckles at that. At how gone your brain is. Here he was, thinking he was the only one. âOkay, okay, darlinâ. I believe ya.â
And really, maybe he should be using more discretion. But he canât get the feeling of you out of his head. You were everywhere. His mouth, his glistening chest and beard. He takes you by the hips then, sitting back to flip you on your hands and knees with your help and you moan at the sensation. Joel looks down at you, groaning of your ass in the air, pushing back for his cock. âSuch a needy little thing, now,â itâs as if someone else is talking. This isnât the Professor Miller you know. This man has layers and youâre first in line to know exactly what that entails.
Joel takes the base of his cock, bobbing it as it throbs alive in his hand and runs through your slick with the head of it. âSo fucking wet. Beginning to think youâve been wanting this for as long as I have.â
You bite a whine and he can see the back of your head nodding as you crane your neck back enough to make eye contact, but his eyes fall down to your ass pressing eagerly on his cock. Doing your best to press him inside yourself.
âGo ahead,â he slaps his cock on your folds and you mewl at the wet sounds coming from it. âTake my cock.â
And take, you do. Joel holds it out for you, keeps it steady and you push back slow on his cock. Clenching around the head and he growls at that. âYou dirty thing. This how you fuck all your teachers?â It burns your skin, pushing your face into your arm and you shake your head.
âWords.â He warns.
âJust you! Just you, Joel!â
âJust me,â he parrots, hissing when you shift back and you both twitch and groan when you take him to the hilt of you. It was so thick, stretching you out until you felt split apart from him. âJust me, show me then. Show me how you fuck me.â
You bite into your arm then, choking on a sob as you push your ass back over and over. Your cunt taking him deep like this, it almost feels like too much and not enough at once. Torturously slow against the spongy spot again
 It felt so amazing taking him yourself, but it was like an itch you couldnât scratch on your own. The tapping of his balls against your clit was too far apart in tempo, his cock speared inside you at a pace that didnât have quite the same leverage as Joel did behind you.
His hands busied themselves on your ass, peeling the muscle apart â pressing his digits to leave bruises and just when you think itâs too much to take, he gives you something else. His spit falling from his lips right to the velvet of your asshole. You shudder and flutter around him when it falls to where youâre connected. Your fingertips grip the other armrest now, cheek resting atop of your hand and you canât do it yourself anymore. âFuck me, Joel! Professor Miller, please!â
âShit â you know where to push, donât you?â Joelâs wide hands slide up your sides, keeping them locked in place as he pulls your hips to him at first. Using your whole lower body, your head hands doing your best to keep yourself up but youâre so close when he uses you like this. When he picks up the pace and you let your head fall on his throw pillow â your screams of desire are targeted into the plush cushion.
Joel is bound up in amazement behind you. How you feel around him, your gorgeous figure in front of him as he gives you every bit of power he can now. His hips hammering into you, but with the right amount of speed â not too fast, not too slow. The sound of his balls slapping against your clit is faster now, and the difference is what you focus on. The way it sounds. Joel feels you tighten, pulse around his own pulse and he has to say something to you. Has to talk you through it, even if heâs not sure youâll like it.
âSo fuckinâ good for me,â he drapes his body over your back, huffing into your ear as the controlled weight of him pushes your ass down just enough to make your thighs shake. You are soaked, sticky against his abdomen, between your thighs. Over your own stomach. You move your face so you can feel his skin closer against your. His lips staying on your cheekbone, he grunts and nods.
âThatâs it, fuckinâ take it. I know you can take it. Those shaky fuckinâ thighs better hold on.â
You feel yourself coil and he is quick to sooth over your hips with his palms.
âRelax, baby. Thatâs it, thatâs good, darlinâ. Shh, easy. Do you feel that heat?â
You nod hopelessly, the buildup was so strong you couldnât do anything but curl your fingers into fists and whimper repeatedly.
âGive into that heat. Come for me, I know you can be so good for me. Good for â fuck â fuck. Good for my cock,â Joel groaning in your ear makes you flutter uncontrollably, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arm around your front, rolling quick circles at the split of your cunt, right at your clit. âMilkinâ my fuckinâ cock like that, donât stop. Donât fuckinâ stop,â he grits, and youâre gasping.
Clawing at the pillow, head craning up and back as you come. Mouth gaped, Joel takes advantage â pouring his tongue into it, swirling and drinking you while his cock bottoms into you repeatedly until he canât take it anymore. You feel too good. Perfect, even.
âJoel!â Your whine is high, as your wet folds take his merciless shoves. âYou feel so good, youfeelsogood!â Your lip quivers, jerking in aftershocks that feel a lot like multiple orgasms. You arenât even sure how you feel, but he knows he has to pull out. So he tells you, rough and pained against your ear. He doesnât want to any more than you do. But as soon as he does, that reward feels just as sweet.
He exhales roughly through his nose, a popping sound filling the room when he pulls out. Not even needing to touch himself to spill himself over the small of your back.
âFuck,â heâs out of breath, grunting, and doing his best not to collide into you. Youâre still, the nape of your neck dews with sweat and you can feel it stick to your dress instantly.
âStay there,â Joel pulls away, and you sit up on your elbows now that youâre fully flat and study his frame walk into the kitchen.
The back of him is just as irresistible as the front.
You hum hungrily at the landscape of his back. But you do as you say, you donât move a muscle. When he comes back, you take note of the splotches of his chest, his neck red and sheened with sweat, too. Heâs just as disheveled. The paper towel he comes back with is rough against your lower back, but tickles more than anything else.
Makes you wriggle and laugh.
âWhat did I say?â He threatens, but his voice is much more smoother and tender. More playful. More like what youâre used to.
âTickles!â
âYou must endure it if you know whatâs good for you.â heâs finished enough for you to roll over. You pull your tits back into your bra with another low laugh, but to yourself at how exposed and a mess youâre sure you look on your professorâs couch.
âI think I like that threat.â
âNo more,â and that makes your heart drop. He must be able to see the disappointed look on your face, so he rephrases his sentence in an instant. âNo more tonight.â
âMaybe I should be teaching you the importance of ambiguity.â
âNext lesson.â
Your heart soars just as fast as it dropped.
---
While you slip on your sneakers, you turn your heel to him â bag in tow. âListen, I donât want this to be why I passed.â
âItâs not â it wonât be,â Joel chews up the space between you â his hand pressing against the doorframe that your delicate hand adorns at the knob, fully dressed himself, now. âYou will pass by your own volition. I meant it â you are bright. You wonât let anybody take that from you, will you?â You knew that wasnât a question as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but you still swayed your head ânoâ.
âNot even me.â He whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead before dropping his arm â allowing you to leave. And thatâs exactly what heâll let you believe.
âEspecially not you.â You smile, leaning up to kiss his lips â your flavour lingers over his facial hair and tongue. Your panties in his pocket.
âGoodnight, Professor Miller.â
âGoodnight, doll.â
taglist: @cool-iguana â comment to be added!
#fic recs#YUMMMYYYYY#professor!joel#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x afab!reader#joel miller x f!reader#soft!dom joel#softdom!joel#professor!joel x reader
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welcome to project pandora, mark ! you possess exceptional promise, but raw talent alone is not enough. i guess we'll see if you can forge yourself into something greater. for now, settle in, follow the checklist, and wait for your deployment.
[  leo woodall, homosexual, male + he/him, superspeed  ]  wesley ackerman is a  chaotic good agent of pandora selected for their  exemplary skill at espionage, and quick wit, as heâd successfully evaded authorities for almost a decade. heâs most recognized for his cunning on the field, and to get in and out of dangerous situations efficiently  and underwent the top-secret mutation process. to the rest of the world, the  twenty-eight year old originally from  phoenix, arizona is deceased or missing. however, in atlantis, they are now known as  impulse  of greed  after developing the ability to move, think, react, and run at supersonic speeds, for prolonged amounts of time.  the agent has been with pandora for  two years and six months and is trusted for being  cunning & tenacious, but once reprimanded for being  reckless & prideful.Â
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homemade chic-fil-a thatâs 10000% yummier bc itâs âmade with extra gaynessâ đ€
#i made the sauce too#my creations#bugs bakery#chef#copycat#chic fil a#into the ether#yummmyyyyy#cooking#home chef
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Save money?? And miss out on the iced coffee / bagel combo??? No thank you.
#COFFEE BAGEL COMBO LOML#YUMMMYYYYY CAN NEVER SAY NO#happy monday.... i saw barista crush and he looked happy to see me...... iktr.#im so sleepy but this triple combo will FIX me#text
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i need her.
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LIKE ITS BORDERING ON OBSESSION NOW i need to be on mating press w him as he fucks triplets into me âŠ.. Imsoserkous LIKE RAAAAHđ”đ”đ”đ” hed be so eager too just fucking load after load to make sure it takes Thatsit goodnight
ââââââââââTOJI LOVES THE MATING PRESS POSITION SO FUCKING MUCHH HE LOVES THE INTIMACY OF IT HE LOVES HOW DEEP HE CAN GET AND OOOOOOHHHH IT'S SOOOSO FUCKING SLOPPYY LIKE HE'S PUMPING YOU SO FULL AND IT'S NOW JUST DRIBBLING DOWN ONTO THE SHEETS MMMMM IT'S A FUCKING MESSS AND IT'S SOOSOO HOTTđ„Žđ„Žđ„Žđ„Žđ„Ž
#toji n mating pressđ„Žđ„Žđ„Žđ„Žđ„Žđ„Žđ„Žđ„Žđ„Žđ„Ž#i love it#one of my favourite positions#YUMMMYYYYY<3333#friends!!
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NEED THATTTTTT
Û¶à§ BSF!CHRIS x INEXPERIENCED!READER

bsf!chris teaching inexperienced!reader how to finger herself, but he can't seem to hold back.
Ëđđ warnings... smut, fingering, edging (briefly), mentions of sex but no actual intercourse.
your eyes were wide and round, looking up at chris who was sitting between your spread legs clad in a pair of sweatpants, a deep, red color settled on your face.
he could almost coo at the sight alone, your knees closing when he ran his knuckles over your cheek, leaning closer to press a kiss to your forehead.
âyou just gotta follow my instructions, okay? iâll help you,â he mumbled, pecking your cheek while his hand ghosted down your torso until his palms spread your legs back open.
âchris, i donât know..â your voice was almost incoherent from how quiet you were, your cheeks nearly scorching from a mix of embarrassment and eagerness, attempting to close your legs around his hands.
it was unfair, really. chris had you in his lap just moments prior, his hands stuck to your hips while guiding your panty-clad pussy over his thigh, his tongue swiping across yours, until heâd told you to touch yourself. you had whined and pleaded in protest for him to help you, your pussy quite literally aching to be touched.
but of course, he had denied it. if you didnât know how to, how were you gonna learn without a little help? he couldnât always be next to you, helping diminish the throbbing under your skirt.
âcome on, donât be so shy now.. iâve seen you before,â he smirked, smoothing his palms across your inner thighs, while you reluctantly opened your legs for him.
you were pathetically wet, but that was chrisâs fault, not yours. heâd quite literally left you on edge, wanting more, and now that he had you all vulnerable and bare in front of him, your mind was blown into a haze.
you were leaned back against the headboard of your bed, both your hands flailing and fidgeting awkwardly in front of you, eyebrows knitted up in a feeling you couldnât quite pinpoint.
chris didnât care he was ogling at your bare form. you were the most beautiful girl heâd even laid his eyes on, and he made sure you knew. therefore, he carefully slid his hands from your thighs, up your waist and sides.
âyouâre so gorgeous.. let me teach you, please?â he whispered, leaning in to press kisses to the side of your face, making it hard to resist a smile to grow on your lips.
âfine..â you smiled softly at him, returning the kiss to his cheek before he pulled back with a nod, taking both your hands in his.
he brought your hands between your legs before he let go of them, and you looked almost expectantly up at him, until he caught your eyes.
âokay.. take this finger -â he reached for your hand, pointing at your index finger before taking it between his fingers, bringing your fingertip to your already swollen clit.
you gasped, keeping your eyes on chris before they flickered between your legs, watching as he hesitantly let go. your chest was heaving up and down, almost rapidly, before your eyes met chrisâs.
ânow.. slowly go in circle motions. can you do that?â his voice was low and deep, barely being able to stop looking at your glistening folds.
it took every fiber in chrisâs body to not swat your hand away, taking the job onto himself. he could teach you another day, couldnât he? thatâs what he told himself every single time, but today he wanted to actually show you,
with a slow nod, you started the circular motions on your bud. your lips parted in relief and pleasure the aching sensation starting to disappear, a much nicer one taking over.
âthat- that feels good..â you let out a gasp that was followed by a whined, trying to copy the faint memory you have of chris doing the same thing to you, your eyes fluttering shut when trying to picture his hand replacing yours.
chris nearly choked on a breath when he saw your eyes close, reading your mind. he knew you were thinking about him, he could tell. a smirk grew on his lips, watching you continue the motions on your clit.
âthatâs good.. keep going with that, okay?â he murmured, reaching for the wrist of your free hand while you kept your eyes closed. ânow, can you slowly add this finger for me?â.
he pinched the end of your middle finger between his thumb and index finger, giving it a gently squeeze.
your eyes flickered back open, nodding again while bringing it closer to your cunt. you couldnât help but take notice of chrisâs clenched jaw, biting the inside of his cheek while his eyes were glued shut to your soaked cunt.
with a sigh, you ran the tip of your finger through your slick walls like chris would do, before easing a fragment of your finger in.
though you were aching to be touched, it almost felt wrong when you did itâlike it wouldnât work. and with chris in front of you, it seemed pointless to be doing this.
a desperate whimper was elicited from your lips, pressing your finger easily into your dripping pussy, the circles on your clit halting.
your whimpering only caused chrisâs mind to run wild, his cock throbbing beneath his sweats, aching to be freed.
ân-now slowly push it in and out..â he had to swallow his desperation to reach out, watching you do exactly as he saidâgosh, you were obedient, naive almost.
a broken moan fell from your plush lips, the pressure in your lower stomach gradually tightening and increasing, causing a faint squelching to be heard.
you wanted chris to tell you so bad how well you were doingâyou were going off his instructions and what you remembered he would do, but he didnât.
instead, he kept staring at your finger buried inside your hole, not missing the way you clenched around your own digit. his eyes occasionally flickered to your face, admiring the way your jaw fell slack, and your eyebrows knitted up into pleasure.
âc-chris, please..â you pleaded, not knowing if it was for him to help, or for him to praise you like he usually would.
âwh-whatâs wrong,â you squeaked between whines, continuing to pump your finger in and out of your slick pussy, your index finger still circling your clit.
before you could comprehend a thing, he swatted at your hands, and out of absolute confusion you quickly pulled them out and off, your heart pounding. did you do it wrong? was it all a mistake to teach you? maybe you were hopeless at this masturbation thing.
swiftly, he hooked his hands under your knees, pulling you further down the bed, a yelp emitted from your lips. realization settled when he leaned over you like he usually would, one hand next to your head to hold himself up while the other snook down your torso, easily finding your swollen pearl.
âyeah, no.. not today,â he nearly growled, making your chest flutter and cheeks heat up.
he kept his eyes on your lidded ones, watching your reaction when he slid his middle finger from your clit, down your drenched folds, before stuffing both his ring and middle finger into your cunt.
âfuck, youâre so wet.. soaking my fingers,â he mumbled between groans, doing everything in his right mind to avoid starting to stroke his cock, the restraint of his boxers making him hiss.
you gasped, both hands planted on his shoulders in a form of imaginary stability when really you were digging your nails into his skin out of pure bliss.
âch-chris, i-â you blabbered, cutting yourself off with a broken whimper, clenching around his digits.
he chuckled, feeling your walls squeeze around the two fingers he had stuffed knuckles-deep inside of you. oh, how he enjoyed this. maybe there never came a day where he got to teach you without latching onto you in the matter of a few minutes.
âyeah? do you like that?â he smirked with a humorless chuckle, before ducking his head down to wrap his lips around your already hardened nipple, âbet you canât reach yourself, can you?â.
you whined at his words with a shake of your head, your back arching up to meet his feverish sucking and nibbling. he dragged his lips up your chest, sucking marks into the skin where your shoulder met your collarbone, all while his fingers continued their relentless pace on your aching pussy.
chris was aching hard, his erection not going unnoticed by anyone from the evident tent. you were gonna have to return the favor later..
âoh, i-iâm gonna cum.. please, chris..â you were whining and whimpering beneath him, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull before they drifted shut.
the kisses adorned on your neck and collarbone were sloppy, leaving wet and red marks, sure to turn a purple shade later. when his thumb traced across your clit, you nearly fell over the edge immediately.
but the thought of cumming around his fingers was soon taken right from your grasp when his movement slowed down, making your grip on his shoulders loosen, as well as your eyes flit back open.
ân-no, chris. what are you doing?â you whimpered, jerking your hips forward in an attempt to meet his fingers, until they stilled completely. âk-keep going.. please-â
his head ducked back up, looking down at you with faux sympathy plastered all over his face. you wanted to cry at the sight, well aware of what was going on.
âaww, but why? you look so adorable,â he smirked, leaving a soft kiss to your pouty lips, a furrow settling on your brows.
you groaned in protest, one of your hands slipping from his shoulder to wrap around his wrist, pathetically trying to move his fingers inside of you, but to no avail.
âchristopher stop,â you whined, looking up at him with an expression of need, trying to sound way more stern and confident than you actually did.
he chuckled at your desperate attempt to get him to continue his job, pressing a sloppy kiss to your forehead.
âshh, just relax,â he shushed you with a kiss, his tone quiet and calm, much a contrast to your whiny voice, leaving a final kiss on your flushed cheek.
deliberately, he moved his fingers out of your drooling hole, before pushing them right back in, eliciting a lewd squelching along with a sigh of relief emitted from your lips.
âth-thank you, thank you..â you moaned while your eyes pinched shut, eyebrows knitted together and stuck up in that position, your loose grip on his wrist slipping, instead reaching for the sheets to claw on.
he pressed the pad of his thumb to your sensitive bud, the circular motions similar to the ones you had desperately tried to imitate and mimic earlier.
your walls were fluttering around his digits, curling up to kiss at your sweet spot, writing your hips, and arching your back.
âgosh, you squeeze my fingers so well..â he whispered into your ear, his hot breath mingling on your neck, âi bet you'll feel this good around my cock too, don't you sweetheart?â.
his quickening pace and words made the tension in your gut snap, nearly dissolving into the pleasure you were receiving from his fingers alone, crying out his name over and over again, stars taking over your vision.
âoh my god, chris-â you rasped, grinding on his fingers to ride the waves of pleasure to the maximum, before falling completely slump beneath him.
âgod, youâre so beautiful,â he smiled to himself when he saw the equally as soft smile grow on your lips, leaning back down again to kiss up your stomach and the valley of your breast.
he slowly withdrew his fingers from your fluttering cunt, his lips rubbing across your skin, causing his words to come out mumbled while he reached for the waistband of his sweats, âyâgonna take my cock now?â.
oh, you were in for a long night.
more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader here!
đđËàż notes: someone requested this, but i can't find the post lol:3 i have more bsf!chris stuff coming!!
Û¶à§ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @sierrraaaaxz @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @starkeysturniolo @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz @decimatedxdreams @chrissturnioloswife88 @sturn777 @sturniolonationsblog @frankoceanfanpage @priscillaog @courta13 @sweetrelieef @loverboysturn @sturns-mermaid @cutseylady @sofieeeeex @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @mattsturnii @conspiracy-ash
© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023
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made some fake sausage & mushroom sawce & pabsta :)
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Look at this cat (heâs my son)


Oh my GOOOOD GIVE HIM TO ME RIGHT MEOOOW đ„čđ„čđ„č HIS FLUFFY WHITE PAAAWS AND FLOOFY LIL FACE OMG đ„° I wanna squish himmm
#HES SO CUTE I WANNA EAT HIM#YUMMMYYYYY CUTIE PIIEEEEE#CATS#CUTE LIL MEOW MEOW#it's-an-avablogo-thanks#answered asks#asks#tato talks
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i'm such a phool for you <3
flowers in delhi đșđŒđžđ»đčđ·đ
#flowers#flora#and all that#lalalala#i love flowrrssssss#flowers r so prettyyyyy#and so yummmyyyyy#phool
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Omg?!! OMG??!!!!! This was so delicious, Jana!! Heâs naughty and sweet and the tension at the end?!đ©đđ„”đ„”đ„”đ„”đ„” wonderful fic! Thank you for sharingâ€ïž
a long time coming

pairing: Dave York x f!reader
summary: You were supposed to go to a concert with your best friend. You end up going with her dad instead.
word count: ~1.1k
tags/warnings: best friend's dad!Dave, fluff, allusions to smut, huge age gap, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, please be warned: Dave has inappropriate (though reciprocated) thoughts about his daughter's best friend - if that makes you uncomfortable, don't read
a/n: daphne @sizzlingcloudmentality and i were freaking out about those new photos of pedro, and because daphne apparently wants me dead, she said that it's giving bfd!dave who's at a concert with you and also provided me with a snippet that still has me in a chokehold and that's part of this story now. i am already experiencing heavy brainrot because i'm going to the eras tour in three (3) days and this was the final nail in my coffin tbh. i should be working on my dress, but instead i did this. the most self indulgent shit i've ever written lmao, please enjoy <3
follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my whole masterlist here :)
dividers by @saradika-graphics <3
âPlease, daddy? Please?âÂ
Dave sighs, rubbing a hand over his forehead. Mollyâs hoarse voice keeps pleading with him before it dissolves into a fit of coughs.Â
With a groan, she lets her head fall against the pillows, wide eyes still trained on him.Â
âNo one else wants to go, and I canât let her go alone, Iâd feel terrible. Please?âÂ
She pouts at him, knowing fully well that her father doesnât deny her anything when she looks at him like this.Â
âFine. If youâre sure that sheâs okay with it?âÂ
âShe is! I already asked her.â
Dave cocks a brow at his daughter, earning himself an exhausted but triumphant grin.Â
âDonât look at me like that. It will be fun!â
Admittedly, Dave really has much more fun than he expected when his daughter all but begged him to accompany her best friend to the concert that she wanted to go to herself before she got sick.Â
He knows most of the songs, has been witness to you and Molly singing along to the music while dancing through his kitchen often enough. Itâs not bad music by any means, and the show is nothing short of spectacular.Â
Itâs not the reason heâs enjoying himself so much though. Heâs barely watching the show, eyes only occasionally flicking towards the stage.Â
His gaze is fixed on you, has been since before the show even started. Watching you interact with other fans, beaming smiles and giggles, eagerly exchanging bracelets, excitedly cooing at the especially pretty ones.Â
Meeting your eyes when you turned to him, not able to suppress his own smile at the sparkle in them. Suppressing the flicker of something in his chest when your fingers wrapped around his wrist, tugging it closer to put a few bracelets on him as well. You donât seem to notice the faint blush thatâs rising up in his cheeks at the unexpected touch.Â
Heâs watching you bouncing on your feet seconds before the show starts, snaps a few photos of the pure joy on your face without you noticing. Just to send them to you later, having enough experience from being the father of two daughters to know how much youâll love them. After that, heâll delete them from his own phone. Of course he will.Â
Heâs watching you dance, your body moving to the beat of the music, your lips forming every word. Your silhouette shimmering with the lights reflecting off your dress. Itâs mesmerizing. You dance with the girls beside you sometimes, shouting lyrics at each other. Other times, you turn to him. He doesnât protest when you take his hands, starts moving with you without a second thought, starts singing the words that he knows along with you. Youâre laughing, your eyes shining with pure happiness. Itâs intoxicating, and he wants more, wants all of it, wants to be part of that happiness. He doesnât remember the last time he smiled this wide, the last time his body felt this light.Â
It takes a long time, longer than it should, until he remembers why this is bad. Until the weight comes crashing back into him. Until he remembers that he shouldnât feel like this with you.Â
Youâre so much younger than him. His daughterâs friend. His daughter who asked him to come here with you, because she trusted that youâd be safe with him.Â
Your brow furrows when you catch his eye and notice the change in his expression. No. He wants you to enjoy yourself, doesnât want to be the reason for any kind of worry for you right now. He allows himself to drink in your energy right now, to let a smile grow on his face again.Â
Thereâs no harm in indulging just for one night. Just a little bit. No one has to know. Least of all you.Â
So he keeps singing with you, keeps letting you move with him. Keeps watching.Â
Itâs easy, being with you, talking to you. Effortless in a way that heâs not used to.Â
Itâs just because youâre at his house more often than not, going wherever Molly goes. It has to be.Â
But itâs different, your giggles ringing out in the confines of his car, not mixed with his daughterâs, the sound that he knows. And heâs the one whoâs elicited those laughs from you.Â
"Explain it again, please. Youâve glued every single of these stones onto your dress?" He laughs and gives you another once over, glad he can disguise his inappropriate ogling with an appreciating glance. Act like heâs studying the intricate, shimmering patterns on the fabric. Not the way your tits are straining against the low cut over your chest. Not the way the skirt has ridden up your thighs, exposing a new inch of bare skin. "Great job, sweetheart. You look good. The dress looks good, too."Â
He wonders how the dress would look bunched up around your waist. Or on the floor of your apartment. If your skin is as soft as it looks in the dim shine of the red light heâs stopped at. How it would taste under his tongue. The sweet sounds you would make when his teeth dig into you.Â
You breathe a thank you and bite your lip at the compliment, and his cock twitches with interest. Wrong, wrong, so wrong.
He has to be imagining the way that you keep glancing his way, stealing looks when you think that he doesnât notice. Wishful thinking on his part.Â
He pulls up in front of your apartment building, killing the engine and turning towards you. Youâre already facing him, more shy than youâve looked all evening.Â
âThank you for tonight,â you say softly, lips pulling up into another smile. âIâve had a great time. Iâ I hope you did too.âÂ
His hand lands on your thigh before he can actively think about it. A soft gasp escapes you, but you make no move to back away from his touch.Â
âTrust me, I did.âÂ
He doesnât intend for it to come out as low and breathy as it does. Teeth dig into your lips once more. Your contemplative gaze burns into him.Â
You inch closer, close enough that he can feel your breath against his face.Â
Wrong. He swallows thickly, forces his grip off of you. You blink, eyes growing wider, the growing tensionâs fog lifting from you. Clearing your throat, you sit up straighter.Â
âGood night, sweetheart.âÂ
He needs you to leave this car. Right now.Â
You nod, shakily bidding him a good night as well.Â
He watches your retreating silhouette, finally able to exhale deeply when you enter your building.Â
Heâs fucked.
comments and reblogs are love and make my day every single time <3
#yummmyyyyy#dave york#pedro pascal#dave york x reader#dave york x you#dave york x female reader#dave york fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfiction#Janađ
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just woke up again .. lol
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tf141 but it's trans force 141
soap :333
someone might shoot me for this but i think soap's the hairiest within 141. price is a runner up, but soap takes the cake. he's fucking hairy all over, from the top of his scalp to his toes, this man is a bear, or a hound dog, prancing around the world with no care.
even pre-t he was hairy, and even before he came out lol. he probably has a lot of both older and younger sisters, and i like to think he's their only brother. he'd get so hissy whenever he was forced to shave; he hated how smooth his body felt, how he used to nick himself, how uncomfortable it felt when his hair used to grow back.
when he came out and got on t, he was so smug about not shaving. he's probably the type of person to slap his sister's shaved legs and make some stupid joke about it, grinning when he'd get smacked on the back of his head. some of his sisters are secretly annoyed that their brother doesn't have to shave, and envy that men's societal norms are different for him.
but sometimes soap does think about shaving when his sister's tug at his hair, either on his legs or arms or chest. it reminds him that he's still their younger brother, and they can and will terrorize him.
anyways :3
soap is hairy, and his hair is dark and thick, and it grows darker and thicker further south. he's especially hairy on his chest, belly, pussy, and ass! oh, and pits, too.
rarely does he do anything with the hair around his pussy; if it becomes a bush, so be it. he has good hygiene so it doesn't become 'bad.' but sometimes he'll trim it; not shave, but trim, so it's not poking out of his boxers and not as itchy.
you literally have to pry his lips apart to get to the good stuff, his pubes are so thick and hairy it hides his pretty cunt and even prettier tcock. his cunt is fat and yummmyyyyy
he's probably the type of guy to shamelessly jerk off anywhere and anytime, pulling his pants down and jerking his cock off in front of his teammates who try to pretend they don't notice, but by the end they're all having an orgy or something.
price :333
he also squirts!!! like a whole lot more than creams lmao. he loves not telling any new partner that he squirts, it's like a gamble. either some people are into it or some people aren't, and it's a risk he's willing to take. his tcock is average, it's not too big but not too small.
honestly, it's a tie between price and soap. price is soooo hairy, i mean bro has a beard and all. anyways, unfortunately he comes in second place.
that being said, he's still so fucking hairy it's insane. hair smothers his pecs and chest, and it runs all over his stomach and arms and shoulders and back, down to his ass and hole, around his thighs and legs and toes and at his pussy !!!
pre-t and pre coming out, he definitely used to shave whenever he felt insecure. but once he came out and started going on t, he stopped looking at razor blades. of course, aside from keeping his beard groomed and keeping his bush trimmed so it's not crazy, he doesn't really do anything.
i feel like his ass is hairier than his pussy. it smothers his cheeks and thickens n darkens around his hole, pretty fluttering thing hidden underneath the mass of pubes. so anytime you eat him out, expect for a couple of hairs to end up in your mouth.
i also think he has a bush, but unlike soap, he regularly trims it. not like to the point where he's, like, hairless, but enough to maintain itâmuch like his beard, he keeps his pussy hair groomed.
i think he has a pretty big tcock. like whenever he gets hard, it swells up and pokes out of its hood, and i can definitely see price leaning back on something, smoking a cigar in one hand and jerking off his tcock with tbe other hfnffbf
i don't think price squirts, he just creams or whatever. he's definitely into fucking people's mouth with his tcock, and praises you soooo good hgngfh, maybe even squeezes your head between his legs.
also!!! i don't price has a naturally slow metabolism, but the reason he isn't fat is because he's in the army and forced to keep in shape. that being said, once he retires and slows down, he definitely gains weight.
hgngh, price having a belly and thicker thighs and sitting on your face, probably drinking some rich whiskey as you eat him out, sucking on his cock GOD
gaz :333
someone's going to shoot me for this but i don't think gaz is all that hairy !!! sure, he has a couple of hairy spots, like his arms and legs, maybe a thick happy trail, but he's not hairy the way soap or price are.
i don't think he shaves but he's not smooth lmao, idk how to explain it but he's perfect, basically.
speaking of perfect, i think his hole is actually pretty hairy, mostly because im into that. and speaking of his hole, gaz's pussy could be hairy, but this mf trims it. not that he isn't into hairy boypussy, he most definitely is, but he just doesn't like when his own cunt is unhinged.
he refuses to shave so all he does is spend time trimming his bush until it's neat and well-put. he's talented enough to make little designs, like that one time he trimmed his pubes into a stupid little skull and it threw ghost off.
this man has a fat fucking pussy, and i headcanon his tcock to be the biggest. even when soft his cock pokes out a bit, which means it stimulates gaz and makes him fucking weetttttt.
he's the type of guy to lead a humping session with someone, or trib idk. he'll pin them down and slot himself between his legs, maneuvering them until their pussies are rubbing against each other. he won't cum until the other person does, and he'd probably talk them through it gooddddd
gaz definitely squirts!!!! only because i like the idea of folding his legs to his chest and fucking his cunt until he's squealing and gushing around your cock GOD the masturbation bonding moments between him and soap would be wet as hell đ
ghost :333
im going to rip this off like a bandaid and say GHOST IS HAIRLESS
well, body hair wise. i think he has hair on his head :) bro probably keeps it cropped or something idk anyways
HE'S HAIRLESS FHFNFKFKG
i just cannot imagine ghost with any hair. maybe a very light coating, but he's also both 1. white + 2. has blonde hair, so it's barely noticeable.
idk man he's just hairless, including his ass and pussy. god, that just means he's more sensitive. it's easier for him to accidentally rub against something and it'll get him wet as hell, his decent-sized tcock swelling with desperation.
god imagine hitting his pussy; so pale and smooth, it blossoms red under your heavy hand, he'd be soo teary in the face.
i also think ghost is a crybaby during sex. he's so sensitive and it's quick to get him overstimulated, and don't let his tears fool you: he's absolutely into it.
he's also into people folding him in half and fucking him like he's just a fleshlight, and he'd be embarrassed but god he'd let you spread his puffy lips open just to watch your cum trickle out
#mr. o'whora's works !#i gave up towards the end#SOS#im tired#hgnfhff#soap x male reader#john mactavish x male reader#johnny mactavish x male reader#john soap mactavish x male reader#captain price x male reader#john price x male reader#price x male reader#captain john price x male reader#gaz x male reader#kyle garrick x male reader#kyle gaz garrick x male reader#gaz garrick x male reader#ghost x male reader#simon riley x male reader#simon ghost riley x male reader#ghost riley x male reader#x male reader#gay#task force 141 x male reader
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