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luveline · 1 year

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𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Your best friend Eddie tries to explain what a hickey feels like and finds he doesn't have the words. He could show you, though, if you want? [3k]

fem!reader, shy!reader, implied inexpereinced!reader, friends-to-lovers, pining, mdni heavy petting, hickeys, lots of hickeys, marking up, neck kissing, shoulder kissing, heat of the moment confessions, eddie being flirty but also a good friend, requested here

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie strokes down the length of his guitar neck almost tenderly. You're focused on his hands rather than his mouth as he recounts last night's date to you, distracted by the deft movement of his fingers, which aren't exactly small. It's an oxymoron —paradoxical, even— that his thick fingers would move with such gentle precision.

You shift around where you're sitting on his bedroom floor, criss-cross applesauce with an uncomfortable heat rising from the bottomless pit of your stomach to your tight collar. The white button up you'd worn under your sweater vest is a size too small. You're really starting to notice.

You peel out of the vest and hope it'll help you calm down.

"She wasn't exactly sweet," Eddie says, plucking a string, listening to the sound, and tuning it this way or that depending on how he liked it. "I think she wanted to get it over with, which isn't really my thing. She was in my lap before I could make it clear I wasn't interested in anything quick."

You lift your gaze from his hands. He must feel you watching his face. He looks up in tandem and smiles reassuringly. "It's fine. I kind of thought she was getting into it, she was like a vampire on me at one point, but I wasn't feeling it and it's clear she wasn't either. Drove her home. How was your night, d'you watch that tape?"

You trace the coil of a black curl down to his shoulder, and can't force yourself to meet his eyes as you ask, "A vampire?"

"What?"

"She was like a vampire at one point, you said." Eddie's arm goes still. "What did you mean by that?" you ask.

He puts his guitar down on the floor. You worry you've said something truly dull for him to place his sweetheart in such a rush, but Eddie's like that. He can tell you're embarrassed no doubt, and he's giving you the answer to your question as swiftly as he can to soothe the wound.

"Here, look," he says. He pushes his hair away from his neck on one side and tilts his head, bearing a wine-stained curve of skin to you unabashedly. "She kissed me. She gave me a hickey, used a lot of teeth. That's why it's bruised so much on the edges."

Warmth you've never felt rushes in, like your blood has superheated, and it's written on your face. Eddie's room feels suddenly a thousand times smaller than before and more intimate, his poster wallpaper curving in, the space between you inching closer.

"Sorry," he says, "I know it's kind of weird to show you."

"No, I'm sorry," you say, mortified. "I shouldn't have asked you."

"Yeah, you should. You didn't get it and now you do. I don't mind telling you."

Eddie lets his hair fall back against his neck, a kinky curtain that looks ridiculously soft in the orangey light of his lamp. There's a butter smoothness to it, and the way he moves as he does is worse, his hand open and reaching for you. He doesn't hold your hand, doesn't even try, just lets his upturned palm hang off the edge of his knee as if to say, Ask me whatever it is you want to ask me. It's cool.

"Why would she do that?" you ask, gesturing to your neck.

"It's not her fault, I was flirting with her a ton trying to make it work."

"Not like that."

Eddie's hand turns toward his knee. "Like what?"

Your hand drifts to your own neck absentmindedly. You get kissing, wanting to be kissed and wanting to give them. You understand why she kissed his neck; if you'd been in her position, alone in the car with Eddie laying his charm on thick, you might climb the console and push aside his hair too.

"I know why she kissed you. I don't see why she…" You rub your lips together, your embarrassment turning sharp. You hate how humiliating this feels. "I know what a hickey is, Eds, but why would you want one?"

His turn to fluster. The tiniest tinge of pink paints his cheeks. "Are you asking me why I enjoyed it?"

"Did you?"

You despise yourself, truly. Worse when Eddie laughs, his chest forward, hair falling in his face as he chuckles sincerely.

"Yeah," he says, smiling at you "I liked it. Before she started trying to kill me I was having a good time."

He doesn't put you through the agony of asking what you both know he wants to.

You've never had one?

"It feels warm, and it's– you know how being kissed gives you butterflies, right? It's better than that. It's hot, and all her weight is on you and you have your hand on her back trying to pull her in, and she's as close as she can be without, you know." Something flickers across Eddie's face. Not longing, but a remembered pleasure. It makes you squirm.

"I don't see how it doesn't just hurt."

The hand that hadn't been reaching for you holds a pick. He flashes it between his fingers, a party trick, a nervous tic, his eyelashes tangling together as his eyelids inch closed. He scrunches his face up for a second.

"Don't hate me if I ask you something weird," Eddie says, eyes shut tight.

You don't think you could. You watch Eddie's face, knowing he can't see your analysis, and feel a shock of pins and needles in your hands when his eyes open and immediately lock on to yours.

"Do you want me to give you one?" he asks.

Your lips feel like they've been glued shut. You're aware of your breathing, how shallow each inhale has become, but you can't do anything about it.

He has the decency to acknowledge what position his question puts you in, "I know it might be weird but I can't describe it to you if you don't know what it feels like."

You surprise him. You surprise yourself. "Uh, yeah. Okay."

"Yeah?"

"It doesn't hurt?"

"Not unless you want it to." A hint of a smirk plays on his lips, though it fades quickly. "It doesn't hurt. That's not the point. But it can feel… foreign."

You nod jerkily, wishing you knew what to do.

The atmosphere is thick enough to cut through. Neither of you like it. Eddie gives you another type of smile, a familiar one that says, I'm your best friend, I always will be, so please chill out.

"You're gonna have to sit in my lap."

You actually laugh. "Eddie," you chastise, thinking it's a bad joke.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but it's that or the bed." His teasing tone is light, but he still adds, "I mean, we can do it sitting next to each other but it's difficult. Whatever you want, though."

You climb up on your knees. You're shy, absolutely, you always will be and especially when Eddie's teasing, but he really is your best friend, and the bed isn't happening.

He doesn't scare you.

He grins and ushers you toward him. "Alright, come here." He tugs one of your thighs over his lap and your breath catches. He grabs the other and any laughter between you abruptly dies.

You settle over his lap with an expression not far from pained. Eddie's hands rest against your thigh and your hip. He has to look up at you now, and he does as he encourages your weight firmly downward. You're more than conscious of where you're positioned.

"Do me a favour?" he asks.

"Yeah." You put your hand on his chest tentatively.

"Don't suffer through it if you hate it, okay? All you have to do is say something and I'll stop, but if you feel like you can't, a good right hook would work too."

"I'm not gonna hurt you," you protest.

"Me neither," he says. His hand lifts from your thigh to your neck, and he brushes his fingertips down the curve of it ineffectually. It would feel good if you weren't choking on air. "Relax, sweetheart. Please."

"I'm really warm."

"Your shirt's too tight anyway," he says, hand at your collar. He thumbs open your top button, a second, and exposes the flat of your chest. His fingers slide across your neck as he folds back your starched collar. They're cool compared to the raging heat he finds there.

You take a deep breath.

"You could put your hands in my hair," he says. Wishful thinking has hope colouring his tone.

You put your hands on his shoulders. The very tips of your fingers partition his curls.

He raises an arm above your mess of limbs to weave a hand behind your ear. It's then that you feel his callouses, so rough against the delicate skin of your scalp. Despite their texture, you find it feels good. He tucks his hand in tight, and slowly, slowly turns your head to the side.

"Look up," he murmurs.

You lift your head and stare at the ceiling with widened eyes.

He can't know but he does, and he says, "Close your eyes." The heat of his breath kisses your neck.

You shiver at the suggestion of his lips, and again when they press to your skin. Close-lipped, Eddie kisses the skin just under your ear where on the opposite side of your head his thumb strokes quarter circles. You're quickly overwhelmed by the duelling sensations. You don't notice his lips have parted until he's kissing a sloven path downward, his spit cooling in wake.

This isn't a hickey, this is straight up kissing, and you don't know what to do with how you feel. You hide your hands in his hair.

It tugs him forward. He reads your hands for enthusiasm, and if it is or isn't he pulls you closer still and opens his mouth against your skin. His teeth are impossible to ignore.

Your hand works further into his hair, getting caught in a tangle as he sucks your skin between his lips. His lazy mouthing turns insistent but still gentle, his teeth scratching ever so slightly at your pulse as it capers beneath his ministrations. You gasp at the warmth blossoming under your ribs. You cup the back of his neck a touch too tight.

He doesn't stop kissing you, only grabs your wrist to stop you from choking him out. You make a sound you've never made with him before, a mewl, all breathless and teary as the sensation worsens. Which is to say, betters.

He breaks a particularly rough kiss to suck in breath, his nose sliding up the curve of your neck as he leans back. "You okay?" he murmurs, half-lidded eyes locking onto your flushed face.

"Why does it feel like that?" you ask.

He drops his head, his nose level with your chin. "I don't know," he says, punctuating with a kiss right there, the closest bit of skin he can find. "Want me to do it again?"

You swallow and he must see it. He says nothing, wrapping his arms around your waist as he waits for you to respond. Your stomach pushes into his, your arms braced on his shoulder so you don't collapse into his front, limp with touch.

"Sweetheart, can I do it again?" he asks.

"Yeah," you say, quiet but enthusiastic. "Please."

He's slower this time. Eddie leans into your neck and doesn't kiss you at first, his lips so close to your skin that you can feel their phantom. You skin tingles from his previous scandalising, and it doesn't beg, skin can't beg, but you can, you curl your arm behind his neck and hook his head there, crushing his hair to the crook of your arm. He doesn't take much convincing beyond that. His lips smush against your neck and you feel every millimetre as they part, heat and warmth and wet spreading like budding flowers come to bloom. You melt into him soon after, and Eddie takes your weight in stride, hand at the small of your back and pulling you in so hard you can feel his ribs.

When you think you're used to it —not used to it, but expecting what can be expected— Eddie nips you. Tiny dainty kisses broken up with a nibbling you'd couldn't describe as anything but playful. He laughs at your gasping and does it again, again, giddy hot laughter mixed with one of the strangest feelings you've ever been subjected to. You're molten. You're dizzy with it.

Eddie pulls back enough to ask, "I'm gonna undo another button, okay? Just one. Is that alright?"

"What for?"

"So I can kiss your shoulder. Just your shoulder." He sounds pleading, desperately excited in a way you've never heard him and you want to know what it'll feel like, so you let him.

This next button unveils the top of your bra and the soft hills of your breasts. He doesn't look, barely glances at his hand as he tugs your shirts down your arm, diving into the juncture of your neck like he needs it to breathe. His kisses are proper compared to some of the stuff he's been doing, but then he opens his mouth and the flat of his tongue wets your skin as he kisses kisses kisses down your shoulder. His hand is somewhere under your shirt, fingers slipped under your bra strap and pulling teasingly at the elastic as he eases you down in his arms. You're shorter than him where you'd started taller, totally compressed in his arms and at his mercy.

When he pulls back, the slimmest ribbon of spit shines between your shoulder and his lips. He wipes his face with the back of his hand, his eyes glassy, and that hand cups your face. He pretty much grabs you, but there's not a lick of cruelty in his touch. Eddie's rough. Never cruel.

"You're on fire," he says. It's objective rather than joking. "You're so hot. Do you want to stop?"

"Not– not unless you want to," you say, trying to quieten your breathing. You sound like you've run a marathon. It feels like it.

"I'm gonna give you a real one, cool?"

"I didn't know they weren't real."

"Oh, sweetheart," he says, and his eyes are damning, a loving pity in the black of his blown pupils, "I was just warming you up."

Your mind blanks.

"Make sure I can hide it," you say.

You aren't thinking straight, concerned about hiding his hickeys but not what this means for the two of you. His unexpected hunger, and your willingness to let him eat you whole.

"I don't think you can hide it anymore," he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You look down at his lips. They're rosy, swollen from the pressure.

He sees you looking.

He yanks you in by the waist and sizes you up, almost, like he's calling your bluff, not spiteful but something mean about him as he stares at your mouth in return.

Like he doesn't want you to make the mistake. Like he knows you won't.

His hand tips your chin up high and he ducks his own down. An inch and you'd be kissing. That's all it would take.

"Is that really what you want?" he asks.

"I don't know," you say. Is it what he wants?

It has to be.

"Have you wanted to, before?" He draws a line down your cheek with his marriage finger. Fast as a heavy tear. "You want me to kiss you?"

"Yeah," you whisper, trying to make sense of this, your sudden confession, a secret want pushed into the light.

Eddie turns his hand and strokes down your cheek with the back of it, pushing any dampened baby hairs away from your skin. His gaze softens.

"Was that so hard?" he asks.

"You knew?"

He kisses you. He's smiling, and he doesn't take just one. He must kiss you four or five times, your lips parted enough to know he could push it further if he wanted, but he doesn't. These kisses are unhurried, missing the ravenous passion of his hickeying but not the fondness.

"You don't know how hard it is," he says after he's broken away, his forehead tipped against yours, "how hard it is to have someone look at you like you look at me everyday, like I'm something you can't have."

"I didn't know–" you knew. You felt the same. His kissing is evidence alone. it's confessional.

"I know. Guess I thought nothing good would come of it, but– but I don't want good. I want you."

He pulls back quickly, like you've said something confessional rather than him. He surprised himself.

"I'm not good?" you ask.

"You're good. You'll ruin me, that's all."

You don't have time to ask him what he means by that. He kisses you again, kisses your cheek, draws a line of crescent moons down along your neck to the mess he's made of you. He kisses– he sucks your neck so hard, so sudden, that goosebumps erupt and you can't stop yourself from saying, "Ohh," as you cling to his shoulders.

This is the vampire thing he'd talked about, the points of his teeth stark against your skin even now. There's another layer of vulnerability unveiled here, knowing that he could really hurt you and knowing he never would. He kisses you until you're overwhelmed by him. Heat everywhere. Sweat shining on your skin. You don't want anything else but this.

You squeak as the pressure turns from pleasurable to too much. Eddie hears the pain in it and pulls away, instantly sorry and willing to prove it, his hands cradling your face.

You pant. He shushes you gently.

"Sorry, baby." He pets your cheeks.

Your head falls back, too heavy on your sore neck. You feel wiped.

Wiped, but good. Lax.

"That was nice," you say breathlessly.

Eddie sits up and drags you with him, hand behind your neck to prop you up. He's laughing again, his awful sweet laugh that you've heard a thousand times before. It never fails to make you smile.

"You're like a dead fish."

You cover an eye with your hand. "I take it the romance is over."

"You thought that was romantic? Babe, I'm only getting started."

Eddie gives you a quick peck. Where his hickey had felt like the heart of a star growing hotter with each passing second, his smaller kiss feels like the sun through blinds, a dappling of warmth.

"Are you messing with me?" you ask.

He pushes his arms over your shoulders for a hug.

"No. Not messing with you." His nose rubs against the shell of your ear. "It's about time we talked."

You let your hand drift down the dip of his back.

"Okay," you mumble. Talking. You need to talk about whatever it is that just happened.

"...Maybe I'll get you a glass of water first," he adds.

"That's a good idea."

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, please consider letting me know/reblogging, it means the world to me and makes a big difference!! ♡ NOTE: Eddie def pines back if that isn't fully clear, I tried to imply it with his date where he could've hooked up with someone but didn't go through with it, it was cos he's too in lurve

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #ish #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things

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javiscigarette · 4 months

Text

Teacher's Pet, part II

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: Joel gives you a few more lessons and a few more feelings start to surface. (Picks up right where part one left off so I recommend reading that first!)

Warnings: unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, oral (m!receiving), fingering, thigh riding, dirty talk, ungodly amount of pet names, unprotected sex, virginity loss (it's the real deal this time), he's back and more annoying than ever but still just as sweet, disgustingly fluffy at times, reader has hair he can run his fingers through but no other physical descriptions, no use of y/n

w/c: ......10.5k I am so sorry

a/n: It's here! I kept changing my mind with how I wanted this to go so hopefully I landed on something good. I'm absolutely still blown away by the amount of love and support you guys gave on part one :'))) you are all incredible. Hoping and praying this one lives up to everyone's expectations

Part One

my masterlist

"Well, excuse the fuck outta me" he huffs, but the feigned offense is betrayed by the way he’s positively beaming down at you. "I'm about to give you the best fuckin' lay of your life, and here you are makin' fun of me." "The best fuckin' lay of my life? I haven’t even had one lay. Don't exactly have anything to compare it to." "Yeah, well, trust me. Best you're ever gonna get.” "That's some big talk, cowboy. Let's see if you can live up to that."

Getting on your knees for Joel Miller wasn’t exactly on your agenda for today.

Not that you’re really complaining.

He doesn’t look bad from this angle, you have to admit. His chest looks broader from where you are on your knees in front of him, if that’s even possible. His hair is messy and tousled from where your fingers pulled and tugged with a pretty red flush spreading down his neck and chest, and the soft curve of his belly looking positively sinful.

“First lesson is how to take a man’s pants off,” Joel starts. “Think you can handle that? Or do you need a demonstration first?”

You scowl up at him, his words pulling you out of your transfixation on his body.

“Shut up,” you hiss. “I can take your pants off.”

He grins and raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah? Go on then. Show me.”

You roll your eyes but take a steadying breath, trying your best to calm your pounding pulse and trembling fingers as you reach up for his belt buckle. The metallic jingle has your heart fluttering in your chest, and you make quick work of the rest, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans until they’re hanging open in front of you.

You stop for a moment and glance up at him. He’s looking down at you, a soft encouraging smile playing on his lips.

“S’okay, baby. Keep goin’,” he murmurs, nodding his head once.

You give him a small nod and a tight swallow around the lump in your throat, dropping your gaze back to the task at hand. Gently, gingerly, you hook your fingers in the waistband of both his jeans and boxers, pulling them both down simultaneously.

A tiny, barely audible gasp escapes you when his cock springs free and bobs heavily in front of you.

“Jesus Christ,” you whisper, too stunned to stop the words from slipping out.

“Just Joel if fine, actually.”

You barely even register his jab and you definitely don’t have the bandwidth to come up with any kind of witty comeback right now, your mind too busy processing the sight before you. Sure, you’ve seen plenty of dicks before, the internet can be a magical place. But this, in person, up close and so real, is an entirely new experience.

He's big, thick, heavy, and long with a slight upward curve. The tip is flushed a deep pink, shiny with smeared precome with more beading at the slit. A few thin veins run from his base to his tip up the length in a twisting pattern, the dark hair at his base neatly trimmed. And he’s hard, so much so that it looks nearly painful and your stomach flutters know that you're the one who did that to him.

"You can touch it, y'know." Joel says softly after a few moments of silence. "It ain't gonna bite."

"Oh my god" you groan, bringing up a hand to scrub down your face as he pulls you out of your awe.

"Again, just Joel is fine."

He laughs proudly at his own joke and you drop your hands in your lap and stare up at him in disbelief.

"Oh c'mon! You walked right into that one, no need to get all-"

He cuts himself off with a hiss, the air escaping between his teeth and his head falling back as your hand wraps around him, squeezing just a little too tight to be pleasant. He staggers half a step backward, hips jerking away from your grip.

"You were saying?'' you ask sweetly, grinning up at him.

"Fuckin' christ, woman. You're tryin' to get me off not break it off"

You loosen your grip a little but keep your hand still and look at him with expectant eyes, waiting for further instruction. It's not that you don't know what to do, you just don't know how to do it well. How to do it for him.

You want to do well for him.

The realization should alarm you, scare you even. But you find it only spurs you on, only makes the want burning inside of you even more potent and pressing. You want to make him moan, gasp, make his body writhe beneath your touch. You want him to be breathless, shivering, and panting with pleasure. You want to make him come undone, just like you did for him.

"Okay" he starts, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath. "Lesson two is learning what he likes. Everyone's a lil different, but the basics are the same."

The nerves in your gut twist almost painfully, the anxiety of it all getting you half a second away from tapping out.

But your decision is set in stone when he drops his hand to yours where it’s wrapped around him, giving a light squeeze before he starts to gently guide your movements.

"Start slow,” he starts, a light strain tainting the edges of his voice. “Nice and gentle. Wanna work up to it."

You nod and watch, focused intently as if you were actually a student in class as the head of his cock disappears and reappears in your fist. His hand covers yours nearly entirely as he drags it up and down while you try and memorize where he squeezes a little tighter, when he swipes his thumb over the head.

“Can give a little twist at the top,” he murmurs, voice low as he demonstrates what he means. “There you go, baby. Just like that,” he sighs when you do the same.

Once satisfied, he removes his hand, letting you take control. You continue to pump him, trying to replicate the movements he just showed you. His cock is a warm, heavy weight in your hand, twitching and pulsing every now and then when you twist your wrist just right or swipe your thumb over his head like he showed you, collecting and spreading his precome to ease your strokes.

Your confidence builds with each stroke and soon enough you start to experiment with your pace, switching between faster and slower. He gently rocks his hips in time with your hand, unable to resist thrusting forward just slightly.

The fire inside you burns even hotter at the shaky breath that he lets out above you, heat spreading through your veins like wildfire before settling low in your belly, your core aching and pulsing with it.

"This good?" you ask concerned, your voice barely above a whisper.

He lets out a breathless chuckle and looks down at you with heavy lidded eyes.

"Yeah, honey. Real good," he rasps, a small smile spreading across his lips.

You match his smile, biting your lip and basking in his praise, a warm, gooey feeling spreading outwards from your heart to the tips of your fingers and toes. It's like he has a direct link to the inner workings of your brain and body with how effortlessly he can make you melt, with just a soft, easy smile and a few well chosen words.

"Should I...do you want my mouth?" you ask, glancing between his flushed, leaking cock and his hooded eyes.

"God yes, baby. J-just start slow. Lick the tip, get a feel for it. Don't try to take too much right away," he instructs, his voice constricting more and more with each word.

"So I shouldn't try to fit all of your giant cock in my mouth on my first go?" you quip, raising a brow.

"Please don't" he chuckles. "Don't want ya pukin’ all over the place. Might kill the mood," he adds with a grin.

You shake your head and let out a light laugh, the sound trailing off into a content hum when he brings his hand to the top of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, dull nails scratching lightly at your scalp.

"You're ridiculous," you sigh, leaning into the touch.

"You love it."

You do, so, so much.

"Now c'mon. You've got work to do," he teases, his hand gently tugging at your hair.

You comply easily enough, leaning forward and tenderly swiping your tongue across the slit, licking up the precome that's gathered there. He hisses, a rush of hair pushing past his clenched teeth as his cock twitches in your hand, a fresh bead of precome forming.

With your confidence renewed by his reaction, you do it again, pressing your tongue flat against the slit and swirling it slowly around his swollen tip all while your hand still works him at a steady pace.

Emboldened, you take it a step further and close your lips around him, sealing them around the head to give him a slow, experimental suck. The groan he rewards you with has sparks shooting down the length of your spine.

"That's it. Good girl. Just like that," he pants, fingers tugging and tightening in your hair.

His praise washes over you in another wave of warmth, a feeling akin to a full-body shiver that has goosebumps breaking out over your skin. It strokes your ego, pride and confidence filling you as his soft moans and grunts fuel the fire burning in your belly.

Encouraged by the way he’s already falling apart, you take him a little deeper. It’s only a few inches but your lips are already stretched wide, a slight ache already settling in your jaw from how wide it's being forced open.

You keep your tongue flat against the underside of his cock while you start to bob your head, trying to match the pace of your hand. But the motions are new and unfamiliar, your movements clumsy and uncoordinated and when he hits the roof of your mouth, your gag reflex kicks in forcing you to pull off quickly, coughing and sputtering.

"Easy. Easy," Joel soothes, his fingers scratching at your scalp again. "Try to breathe through your nose. And don't don't force it, yeah? Feels good, just the way you were doin' it."

"Sorry," you apologize sheepishly, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Ain't nothing to be sorry for. S’your first time. It takes practice. Now, c'mon. Try again. Nice and easy. And if this man tries to-"

But you're not in the mood for another Joel Miller Life Lesson, especially when he’s about to mention the other man who's name you can barely even remember anymore.

Thankfully, his words dissolve into a groan when you take him back in your mouth, your lips wrapping around his sensitive head, tongue flat where it slowly glides down the underside of his cock as you take him deeper.

The ache in your core is quickly growing more and more incessant. You can still feel the ghost of his fingers and tongue on you, your inner thighs wet and sticky with the memory. And the sinful sounds he’s making, whispered curses between breathy moans and grunts, are not exactly helping your case.

You manage to take a little more, his thick cock stretching your mouth wider, forcing your jaw open even further. You gag slightly around him again but you’re determined to push through it this time. YOu squeeze your eyes shut and breathe in harshly through your nose as saliva dribbles past the tight seal of your mouth and drips onto your hand, your fist diligently pumping what you can't take.

He responds with a low, guttural groan, his hips jerking forward, chasing after the sensation of your throat convulsing around him.

You're still only a little over halfway down and it's a quick realization that you'll never be able to get it all down your throat. Maybe you can try and practice, but it’s practically a pipe dream to even think about getting his whole cock into your throat without choking to death on it.

But that's a problem for another day.

For the next time.

For now, you hollow out your cheeks and suck as you pull back, tongue swirling along the underside until his cock leaves your mouth with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting your swollen, spit-slicked lips to his glistening tip.

You use your hand to spread the wetness, mixing it with the precome that's leaking steadily from the flushed head. The smooth glide allows you to speed up your pace as you look up at him through your lashes, trying to gauge his reaction.

He's staring down at you with hazy, lust blown eyes, his jaw hanging open, panting heavily.

"How am I doing, Professor?" you tease with an innocent smile. A lazy grin slowly spreads on his face in return.

"You’re a fuckin’ natural, baby," he mumbles, his hand moving from where it's tangled in your hair to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over the apple of your flushed cheek, "My good girl."

And maybe, most likely, the words slipped out unintentionally, the heat of the moment forcing out things that he doesn’t really mean. But all the alarms and sirens in your head warning yourself to not fall too deep into this trap that is Joel Miller with his pretty words and sweet praises and soft smiles are all dead silent right now. There’s not a single part of your brain that’s trying to resist him right now. You doubt you could even if you wanted to.

Because he just called you his girl.

His.

To say you’re fucked would be the understatement of the century.

You hum, pressing your cheek into his palm, wanting, needing, craving more. More of his touch, his taste, his warmth, his cock, his praise. So you take him back in your mouth with a renewed determination, spurred on by his words, wanting to prove to him that he's right, that you are his good girl. Determined to show him that you can make him feel good, that you can please him, that he'll want more of you, need more of you.

And judging by the way his grip on your hair is almost painful, his thighs trembling as he holds himself still, fighting the urge to jerk his hips forward and shove his cock down your throat, you'd say you're doing a damn good job

"Makin’ me feel so good, baby. So fuckin' good," he pants when you take him a little deeper.

You whine quietly around him as you press your sticky thighs together. White hot heat pooling low in your belly, your neglected cunt throbbing and aching, slick, wet, and messy.

You squirm in your spot, rubbing your thighs together and grinding down on nothing in desperate search for the slightest bit of friction. You pray that the movement is subtle enough for Joel not to notice.

As if that’s possible.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Joel starts, his tone annoyingly saccharine and condescending as he smirks down at you. “Did we forget somethin’ important?”

Another small whimper is all you can muster, too focused and preoccupied with the way his thick length is filling your mouth, the weight and taste of him on your tongue dizzying and addicting.

“Well look at that,” he coos, his hand leaving your hair and sliding down your cheek to cradle your jaw. He swipes swiping over your bottom lip that’s stretched around his length, smearing the spit that’s gathered there.

“Think I finally found a way to shut ya up. We should’a done this a long time ago. Woulda saved me a lot of headaches,” he chuckles, the sound dissolving into a sharp hiss when you dig your nails into the tender skin of the back of his thigh, hard enough to leave a mark.

You pull off his cock with a wet pop, jaw aching as you glare up at him.

"I'd shut up if I were you" you warn, the threat of your words completely lost in the breathless, desperate way they leave your mouth. "Just one good chomp is all it would take" you add, clicking your teeth together for emphasis.

But Joel's face just splits into a grin, a full blown, infuriating smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"Biting huh? Now that’s a little kinky. Didn't know you had it in you, sweetheart."

"Shut up," you snap, but it still lacks any real heat, not with the way your lips are twitching at the corners, fighting a smile, your eyes undoubtedly sparkling, your heart definitely leaping out of your chest at the way his eyes are boring into yours.

"Careful, sweetheart. Might have to knock you down a whole letter grade for that type of talk. Gotta respect your professor ‘n all, y’know."

"You're insufferable," you grumble.

"But yet, here you are, still on your knees."

"And I'm gonna get up and leave if you don't stop talking."

"Leave before or after you chomp my dick off? Cause I'd really like a heads up for that, if ya could."

"Jesus fucking christ, Joel!" You huff, rolling your eyes so hard it actually hurts. "Do you ever just shut the fuck up? I'm literally on my knees right now with your dick in my mouth and you're still finding ways to piss me off!"

“What can I say? It’s a special talent of mine,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, the smug smile on his face making you want to genuinely bite his dick off now.

You drop the wet hand you had wrapped around him and start to move to your feet.

"You know what, I'm just gonna go. Maybe I'll call my coworker. He's not nearly as irritating as you," you huff, pushing yourself up onto shaky legs, your knees stiff and sore.

But you can't even take one step before he's grabbing your waist, his large, warm palm resting firmly on the swell of your hip. His fingers flex, his grip tightening, not enough to hurt, but it's enough to halt you in your tracks. You're not particularly fond of the way your heart skips a beat in your chest, the way you can feel goosebumps breaking out all over your body from just his touch.

He pulls you in closer until your chest is pressed against his, hard, wet cock pressed against your bare thigh.

"You really think you’re gonna leave with your pussy drippin' all over the place like that?” he says, his voice seamlessly switching from teasing to low and rough as his dark, hungry eyes bore into yours. “You're about to ruin my floors with the way you're leakin' right now, baby. Wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Your cheeks flame with embarrassment from how easily he was able to see your desperation, and with anger at how right he is.

"Shut the fuck up, Joel," you mumble, giving him a weak push at his chest. "I'm not leaking I-"

The rest of your sentence stays lodged in your throat when his free hand slips between your thighs. Two deft fingers drag through the slick mess, collecting your arousal and spreading it around, a soft, wet, obscene sound filling the space between you.

You don't even think to stop the high pitched, breathy whine from escaping your lips when he slides a thick finger inside you with no warning, your pathetic sound dissolving into a moan when he immediately follows it up with a second one, his palm pressed flat against your clit.

"Not leaking, hmm? Sure don't seem like it, baby," he purrs, his voice a low, rumbling drawl, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. "Feel that? How easy it was for me to get two fingers in ya?"

"Fuck," you whine as you dig your nails into the bare skin of his shoulder, hanging on to him and desperately searching for any semblance of stability as you try not to sway on shaky legs.

He crooks his fingers in you, fingertips digging into the spongy spot on your front wall that has your knees buckling, tiny stars dotting your vision momentarily as a rush of arousal gushes out of you, a pitiful whimper falling from your lips. Joel chuckles, low and dark and the sound shoots straight to your neglected clit, a bolt of lightning arcing down your spine.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he murmurs, nosing at the sensitive skin below your ear, the faint scrape of his beard against your cheek sending a shiver down your spine.

The feeling of him removing his fingers is a cruel, sudden jolt, the emptiness and lack of pressure and friction has you keening, a needy, impatient noise bubbling up from your throat.

He's moving before you can complain though, stepping around you to sit on the edge of the bed and then promptly pulling you down onto his lap. You let out a small squeak of surprise as he forces you to straddle his thigh, pulling you down until your aching cunt is seated firmly against his bare skin. The position has his cock pressing against your hip, a drop of precome smearing against your skin.

"Fuckin' soaked for me, honey,” he drawls, his fingertips dimpling the soft skin of your hips. “And to think you were about to leave without gettin' what you came here for.”

You can't even speak, too enraptured with the feeling of his strong muscles flexing subtly under your hypersensitive clit. So you ignore his teasing and just grind down instead, past the point of desperation.

But he would never let you win that easily, would he?

He laughs and tightens his grip on your hips, stopping your movement and holding you in place.

"Ah-ah, not so fast, baby. Let's talk about the terms first."

You give him the best glare you can muster while suppressing a needy whimper.

"Terms?"

"Yeah. Terms. Of all this. Like if this is a one time thing, or if we're gonna be havin' regular...lessons," he replies, his hands slowly sliding up your waist and coming to rest on your ribs, his thumbs stroking the undersides of your breasts.

"If you're gonna go out with this guy," he continues, his thumbs brushing over both of your nipples. "Or if I'm the only one who's gonna get to see this," he says, leaning forward, his warm breath fanning over your skin. You bite your lip, holding in the soft, needy moan threatening to spill out when his lips press to the hollow of your throat.

"If I'm the only one who gets to have you like this. If I'm the only one who's allowed to touch you. To kiss you," he says, punctuating his last word with a kiss to the center of your chest, his hands squeezing the swell of your breasts, his tongue flicking out and licking at your nipple.

"Or do you plan on letting him have you too?" He asks, the tip of his tongue swirling around your nipple before closing his lips around the pebbled peak, sucking it into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing it before he pulls back. "'Cause I'm not too keen on sharin', baby."

You take a deep steadying breath, trying to clear the thick haze that's clouding your mind and focus on his words, his questions about the fucking terms.

And you do think about it, about your coworker who's been nothing but so sweet to you, who doesn't get on your nerves in under a millisecond. The coworker, Micheal, you think, his name finally returning to you, who doesn't tease you and play games and leave you a panting, needy, dripping mess.

And while he is really such a perfect gentleman, he isn’t the one that’s been there for you, listening to you complain about all the shitty things that have happened to you in the last year. He isn’t the man that lets you use him as a punching bag whenever you’re frustrated, has never been the calm, reasonable voice that challenges the anxiety that overwhelms you and threatens to pull you under.

Michael has never held you when you've cried, never helped you cook dinner after a hard day at work, never fixed the flickering light in your bathroom. He certainly has never dropped a key to his front door in your palm accompanied by a lopsided smile and the words just in case ya need anything.

Michael isn’t the one who’s been the one to pick up your pieces and put you back together, so gently and tenderly, making you even better than you were before.

It's useless, trying to avoid it. Trying to push it down, bury it, ignore it, how you've been feeling and what you want.

It’s Joel.

All of it.

You want Joel.

All of him.

You've wanted him since the day you showed up on his porch with a six pack. You've wanted him all those times you watched from a distance as he fixed something in your house, so capable and competent, casually waving away your slew of thank yous. You wanted him every single time he invited you over for a movie night, sitting close enough to you on his couch that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. You wanted him every time he made your blood boil and your eyes roll so hard you swore you could see the back of your brain, and every time you genuinely thought you were going to smack him.

And now, you have him.

Right here, naked and hard and underneath you, your pussy leaking on his thigh.

The answer is so painfully obvious, the words falling from your lips before you even have a chance to process them.

"M'not gonna see him," you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Want this. Want you."

Joel hums, indicating that he heard you. But again, he would never let you win that easily.

"Speak up, baby," Joel says, releasing your nipple with a soft pop, his eyes dark and intense, a predatory, feral glint in them. "Can't hear you."

And it's infuriating and annoying, absolutely maddening. And it's the last straw.

You're not sure if it's the frustration, or the pent up desire, or the heat burning inside you, or the fact that Joel's still hard, and still leaking precum against your hip, as your cunt slides against his thigh, but you break.

You absolutely shatter.

"I want you!" you practically shout, hands balling into fists where they're resting on his shoulders.

"You, okay? You! You and your stupid, fucking, annoying ass, and your dumbass pickup truck, and your stupid, charming grin, and the way you always call me 'baby', and 'honey', and 'sweetheart'. It drives me fucking insane! And the way you're always fixing shit, and being so fucking helpful and sweet and you always, always make me laugh, and smile, and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by in the past year that I didn’t think about you and I can’t get you out of my fucking head, not even for a single fucking second.”

The words spill from your lips in a breathless tirade, and it feels good, freeing. It's like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, like a great burden has been taken off of you.

But the feeling doesn't last long.

Silence stretches between you and it's suffocating, oppressive, and you feel like the walls are closing in on you, panic rising in your chest.

Your cheeks burn, nauseating embarrassment and humiliation coursing through you as you realize the full weight of what you just word-vomited all over him. Your chest heaves, and you hang your head, unable to bring yourself to look at him.

But then, a bright laugh sounds through the otherwise quiet room. And your eyes snap to Joel's face, only to find him smiling.

He's fucking laughing.

"Joel!" you scold, a mixture of mortification and confusion washing over you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he placates, but the laughter in his voice doesn't help to ease your nerves. "I didn't mean to laugh, it's just...I just can't believe how dense you are."

The daggers you shoot at him are truly deadly.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Do you think I just go around callin' everyone 'baby' and 'sweetheart'?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"I..." you stammer, trailing off as his words sink in.

"I mean, my southern charm is one thing,” he says, obnoxiously wiggling his eyebrows. “But you’re seriously thick if you think I'm like this with anyone else.”

You stare blankly at him, trying to process what he’s saying.

“Do you think I let all the neighbors just use me for free handy work, think I cook dinner with all of them, think I keep a stash of everyone’s favorite snacks in my pantry, give everyone a fuckin’ key to my front door? And you think I just go around agreeing to sex lessons to anyone who asks?” He rambles, squeezing your hip.

Your brain is reeling as you try to wrap your head around everything.

"Well...no” you stammer, your brows pinching together. “But…"

"How many other girls you seen me bringin' home? Huh? How many other girls you see me with?"

"None" you admit sheepishly.

"Mhm. Because I don't. Not since you moved in next door."

You frown, confusion clouding your features. You open your mouth to speak but Joel cuts you off.

"I like you, baby," he admits with a sigh. "A lot. Maybe too much. But I wasn't about to lose you as a friend just because I'm crazy about you. And if being your friend is the only way I can be close to you, then I'd take it and die a happy man."

You can only stare at him, the words he just spoke bouncing around in your brain, and a warmth blooms in your chest, your heart fluttering wildly in your ribcage.

"Are you kidding me?!" You exclaim suddenly, hitting his shoulder.

"Hey! Ow!" he barks, his eyes widening as he grabs his shoulder. "The fuck was that for?!"

"You've been trying to sleep with me for a whole year?!"

"I wouldn’t say trying," he says with a casual shrug. "Just waiting. Wanted you to take the lead but you’re a little stubborn, baby."

You scoff, glaring at him, not missing the way his lips twitch at the corners, the way his eyes sparkle with amusement.

"So, the reason why I haven't been able to catch a break the entire time we've known each other, has been because you've been trying to get in my pants? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Well, that part is just natural. You're just too easy to get riled up. And that’s not my fault."

You open your mouth to argue with him but his sliding over your hips to palm at your ass and his lips are ghosting over the shell of your ear, his beard scraping against the sensitive skin.

"But no, I can't deny that I like it," he rasps, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "The way you get all fired up and angry, your face all flushed, your chest heaving. Mmm, it's nice. You look real pretty when you're all worked up and pissed off," he whispers, his lips curled in a smile when he presses a kiss to the spot below your ear before pulling back to look at you.

"Why didn't you tell me,” you say, voice softer now, the rough edges of your tone smoothed out by the feeling of his lips on your skin.

"Didn't want to make it weird. Didn't want you to think I was some creepy old man and ruin our friendship" he explains with a small shrug. "But then you came over here tonight askin’ for a sex lesson, which was not easy by the way, acting like I wasn't already about to burst outta my pants as soon as you asked. Thought for sure you were onto me. But then you started going on about that douche canoe Michael-"

"Joel."

"And then I got jealous and pissed, and figured it was time to cut my losses and just enjoy it while I can, but-"

"Joel."

"Then we were kissing and you were touchin’ me and you're so fucking sexy and-"

"Joel!"

"What?"

"Just kiss me, you idiot" you breathe, and before the words are even fully out of your mouth, his lips are on yours, crashing into you with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs.

It’s bruising, searing, all consuming.

His fingers dig into the meat of your ass as he pulls you forward, the seam of your pussy dragging deliciously against the strong muscles under warm skin.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, and tug, the base of your spine tingling when he groans softly into your mouth, and you grind your hips against his, the wet heat of your cunt grinding into his thigh, pulling another soft, low sound from his throat.

"Fuck" he groans, pulling away just far enough to press his forehead to yours, his breath coming in quick, sharp pants, his chest heaving. "Baby, are you still okay with this?" he breathes, voice ragged and gravelly.

You look at him as if he's grown a second head.

"Are you serious?"

""I...well, I was serious when I said I'd be fine with being your friend, and I don't want you to think I'm tryna pressure you into anything."

You can't help but roll your eyes, the soft, endearing side of Joel coming out at the worst possible time.

"I literally just admitted that I've had a crush on you for months, and now I'm sitting on your lap, soaked, and grinding on your thigh and you're worried I don't want this? I think you might be the dense one here."

He grins, wicked and wide, a flash of sharp teeth, the dimple in his cheek deepening.

"Guess so," he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

You don't respond, and instead choose to silence him by pulling him into a kiss, licking at the seam of his lips and sucking his tongue into your mouth. He groans softly into your mouth, and you swallow the noise, rolling your hips again, chasing the sweet friction that's sending a delicious heat through your veins.

"God, baby," he breathes when he pulls back for air, hands on your ass gripping and guiding you against his leg, encouraging your movements. "Makin' such a mess, ain't ya?"

You bite your lip, nodding as a wave of arousal surges through you.

"Yeah, you are. Soakin' my leg, sweet girl," he says, his eyes flicking down between you, watching as your pussy drags along his thigh, coating him in a shiny, slippery sheen.

"Fuck, Joel, please" you whine, your hips jerking and rolling against him.

And that's all the encouragement he needs.

In the blink of an eye, you're on your back, Joel hovering above you, a wild look in his eyes.

"Don't worry, baby," he says, his voice low and husky, and he trails his fingers over your hip and up your ribs, his touch light, teasing, barely ghosting across your skin and it's almost ticklish, making you shiver. "M'gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel so good."

Your heart thunders in your chest, and your cunt throbs, your arousal leaking out of you. It feels like you’re about to crawl out of your own skin, the desperation growing with every passing second.

He trails his fingers down your sternum, and over the flat expanse of your stomach, goosebumps breaking out across your skin in his wake, the muscles under your skin rippling and twitching at the soft, fleeting touches.

And when he reaches the crease of your thigh, you let out a shaky, trembling breath, and he chuckles softly, his lips curling into a crooked grin.

"Eager, are we?" he teases, dragging his fingers over the slick flesh between your legs, gathering the wetness pooled there before slowly sliding a single thick digit inside you. "We're gonna get there, baby. But gotta make sure you're ready first. Don't wanna hurt you.”

You whimper, your walls fluttering and clenching around his finger, and your hips roll forward, seeking friction, wanting, needing more.

Joel curses under his breath and groans softly when your wet, warm walls constrict around his finger. His cock leaks and twitches where it’s pressed against your thigh, and you whimper, both of you caught up in an endless cycle of keying each other up.

"Please, Joel" you beg, and the words come out soft, pleading, and desperate. You should probably be embarrassed at how quickly he's reduced you to a begging, quivering mess, but the way his eyes go dark, and his pupils blow wide, makes the embarrassment worth it.

"Please, what, baby?” He prods with a devilish smirk. “Use your words"

"You're such an asshole" you snap, but the venom in your voice is diluted with pleasure as he slips another finger inside you.

"You keep saying that. What d’ya want me to do about it, sweetheart? You want me to stop?" he taunts.

"No!" you cry out, reaching down and grabbing his wrist with an iron grip when he starts to pull out.

"Then tell me what you want, honey."

"Fuck you,” you mumble weakly.

"Mhm. Okay, honey" he drawls, his thumb moving to circle around your clit as his fingers curl inside you, still pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. . "I'll just wait then. Take my time. Tease your pretty little pussy until you can't stand it. I'm in no hurry, baby. Gonna take all night, if that's what it takes. I've waited this long."

"Joel, please" you whine again, the ache between your thighs turning to an unbearable burn.

"Tell me what you want,” he repeats casually.

"You," you try with a needy whimper.

"Me? You got me, sweetheart. What else?"

“Oh my fucking god can you please just fuck me? Or do I have to spell it out for you, old man?"

"There she is," Joel says with a laugh, his grin splitting his face "There's my girl"

And then his fingers are gone and you whimper at the sudden emptiness. But before you can protest much more,, they're sliding back in, this time joined by a third.

Your hands fly to his shoulders, gripping him, nails digging into the soft flesh of his muscles.

"Oh fuck" you pant, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he starts pumping his fingers again.

"Gotta get ya ready, baby" he breathes, and his lips are ghosting along your jawline and up the shell of your ear, his breath warm. "Such a tight little pussy, but we'll get you nice and open, don’t worry. Then I'm gonna sink in ya, fill you up real nice. Take real good care of you, baby. Fuck you nice and deep, make you forget your name. Would you like that? Hmm?"

A strangled moan is all you can manage in response. His words, filthier and more deranged than any you've ever heard him speak before, sending your brain into overdrive.

You can’t help but roll your hips, and bucking, and gyrating, meeting his thrusts as his fingers pump in and out of you, the lewd, wet, sloppy sounds filling the otherwise quiet room, and the coil in your gut is threatening to snap.

"Joel, Joel, fuck, oh fuck" you chant, your hazy and thick with pure arousal. It drips down your spine and flows through your veins, liquid heat burning, searing, and scorching you from the inside out.

You manage to open your eyes long enough to look down and see the tendons flexing in his wrist, the muscles and veins in his forearm bulging as he works you, his face brows pinched in concentration as he focuses on your reactions.

"Oh shit, honey," Joel curses breathlessly, a smug grin stretching across his lips as he feels your slick pooling in his palm. “So messy, baby. You gonna cum? Hmm? Gonna be a good girl and lemme feel your sweet little cunt clench and drip even more around my fingers?"

You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he thrusts his fingers into you, the heel of his palm rubbing deliciously against your clit. Your fingers scrabble for purchase, desperately seeking something, anything, to ground yourself. You settle for the firm muscle of his arms, your nails biting into his skin and leaving bright red marks that'll undoubtedly leave little half-moon bruises later

"Fuck, yeah, c’mon, sweetheart, lemme feel. Give it to me."

You come with a cry, the dam breaking, the tension in your gut exploding outward, a wave of euphoria crashing over you, washing through every inch of your body. Your legs tremble and shake, and Joel works you through it, his fingertips nudging that spongy spot inside you, dragging his thumb across your throbbing clit, milking you through the aftershocks, and when you start to come down, you're panting and breathless, your chest heaving.

You look up at Joel, and his eyes are blown wide, the deep, rich brown of his irises nothing more than a thin, dark ring around his dilated pupils. There are no words, at least none that you can manage to articulate at the moment, so instead you let out a breathless laugh, and a contented hum, a smile spreading across your lips.

Joel grins, laughing, and he leans down to capture your lips in a chaste kiss.

"Good girl" he breathes against your mouth, his words a low, rough rumble that has you keening. "That feel good, baby?"

"Fuck, yeah" you sigh, melting into the matress.

"Good,” he says before pressing a kiss to your forehead then pulling back to look you in the eyes again. “ Think you're ready for me now?"

“Mhm,” you murmur with a lazy nod. “Want you, Joel.”

Joel laughs, the sound sweeter than it’s ever sounded before.. "You've got me, sweetheart. You've had me. Always will."

"That's awfully fucking sappy," you tease breathlessly, threading your fingers into his soft dark hair.

"The best fuckin' lay of my life? I haven’t even had one lay. Don't exactly have anything to compare it to."

"Yeah, well, trust me. Best you're ever gonna get.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, raising a brow at him.

"That’s some big talk, cowboy. Let's see if you can live up to that."

Joel barks out a laugh, the sound coming out more like a snarl, his eyes flashing with something feral, predatory, and dangerous at your challenge.

And then he’s abruptly pulling his fingers from you then bringing them up to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the slick coating his fingers. The sight nearly puts you into cardiac arrest.

"So fuckin' sweet" he murmurs, his eyes slipping closed momentarily, and a low, satisfied hum rumbles in his chest. It's downright obscene, the way his lips wrap around his fingers, how he licks and sucks, cleaning your arousal off of them.

"Joel," you breathe, your voice nothing more than a shaky exhale.

His eyes snap open, and he gives you a lopsided smirk.

"Sorry, baby,” he starts, pulling his fingers from his mouth and wiping them on the blanket underneath you. “Can’t help myself. Just had to taste ya again. Gonna have a hard time not doing that every time,” he finishes with a sly smile.

Every time.

The words are like a shock of electricity shooting through your veins, setting your blood ablaze. Every time. As in multiple times.

How the fuck is this real?

He stupid smirk is still glued to his face as he leans over to rummage around in the drawer of his nightstand. Your brows furrow when he pulls out a condom and goes to open it.

"I...uh..." you start, but the words die in your throat.

"What's wrong?" Joel asks, his smug expression immediately morphing into one of concern.

"I...well...it's just, I'm- I'm on the pill… We can use a condom, but...it's not necessary…just wanted to put that out there. In case, you know…you didn't wanna use one. Since it's not...like, not entirely necessary,” you say quietly, casting your eyes down to where your fingers fiddle with the edge of the blanket.

"Ahh, I see,” Joel responds, all too pleased. “You just want me to raw dog it, huh?”

"Wha-no! Oh my god, Joel, you are so fucking embarrassing," you groan, covering your face with your hands.

"S'okay, honey, don’t be embarrassed. It is all part of the full Joel Miller Experience anyway,” he reassures you with a sickeningly sweet tone..

"Oh my fucking god, I told you not to say that ever again,” you groan, shoving at his shoulder, which only makes him laugh. And you can feel yourself smiling too, despite how irked you are.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop," he relents, still laughing a little. "If you really don't want me to use one, I guess I can make an exception, just for you"

And it's as if he knows that you're about to lash out at him again, because he leans down and presses his lips to yours before you have a chance to say anything, all the fight in you draining away as soon as his mouth is on yours.

"You tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispers when he pulls back. “Or if I do anything you're uncomfortable with, or if you just need a break. You let me know, okay?"

You nod.

"Promise?"

"I promise, Joel. Please just get on with it."

"Impatient" he breathes, but kisses you again nonetheless, soft, slow, and tender. And when he pulls away, his eyes are searching yours like he's looking for any signs of hesitancy. But all he sees is the same raw desire reflected back in your wide, eager eyes.

You see the exact moment that the last vestiges of his self-restraint disappear, his gaze growing darker and hungrier as he pushes himself up to sit back on his knees, one hand around the base of his cock, the other on the inside of your thigh as he tenderly spreads you open and settles himself between your legs.

He teases you of course, dragging his length through your folds, letting the swollen, leaking tip catch on your clit before sliding back down to nudge at your entrance. You whimper, and try to grind against him, but his hand is firm, holding your hip still, not allowing you any friction.

He hushes you softly, his thumb gently stroking the soft, delicate skin where your hip meets your thigh. "Just let me do what I need to do, baby. Let me take care of you.”

"You're evil," you whine, squirming underneath him.

"Yeah, well, that's a matter of opinion" he grunts, your breath hitching when he lines himself up and finally, finally pushes the blunt tip of his cock inside you.

Your lips part on a gasp, the feeling of his thick head stretching you open, the slight burn of the intrusion, a mixture of aching and pure pleasure. And you can feel his eyes practically burning holes in your skin, drinking in every little reaction, every flutter of your lashes, every twitch of your brow.

"How's that?" he asks, his voice tight and strained. He looks just as wrecked as you feel, his jaw tight, a sheen of sweat already on his brow, the muscles in his forearms bulging with the effort of restraining himself.

"More," is all you manage to rasp out, pushing your hips up, trying to get him to sink deeper.

Joel grunts, and then obliges, his eyes screwed shut in concentration as he tries to feed you only a little more of his considerable length. You can see him chewing on his lip, his nostrils flaring, a slight tremble in his thighs, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Jesus fuck, you're tight" he grits out, his chest heaving as he tries to regain some of his composure. "I-I didn't…fuck, I didn't think- shit. God fuckin' damn, baby"

You smile a little, the corners of your lips curling upwards. It's the first time you've ever seen him truly at a loss for words, and it's a very welcome change.

You reach up and card your fingers through his hair, his eyes fluttering closed, a sweet sigh escaping his lips at the feeling.

"I can take more," you say softly.

Joel shakes his head, his brow furrowed. "Not yet."

But you don't listen. Not that you ever really listen to him.

Your impatience gets the best of you and you push yourself further down the bed, forcing another inch of his cock inside you, your walls fluttering wildly around him as you let out a low moan.

"Ah fuck, honey," he groans, his eyes flying open.

"C'mon, Joel. More. Please," you beg, grinding down on his cock, taking just a little bit more with each roll of your hips until his fingers dig into your hips so hard, you're sure they'll leave bruises.

"Baby stop fuckin' movin'" he hisses, his grip tightening even further. "Please."

You can hear the strain in his voice, and you can feel him trembling above you, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing and tensing.

"Why not?" you pout.

"Cause m'tryin' not to fuckin' come right now, alright?" he grunts, his teeth gritted. "So please, just stop. For a minute."

"You can't possibly be serious," you breathe, a smile creeping on your face again. "You're not even all the way in yet."

He glares down at you, his eyes narrowing. "Not my fault you're fuckin' tight as shit. It's like your cunt is tryin' to strangle me."

You giggle a little, the sound coming out breathy and light. You don't miss the way Joel's cock twitches at the sound.

"You're being so dramatic," you sigh, rolling your hips again.

"Fuck, honey, please," he begs, his eyes pleading, and the sight is almost enough to make you stop teasing him.

Almost.

You can't help the devilish smirk that crosses your face as you bring your hand up to his cheek, stroking your thumb across the stubble on his chin. He lets his eyes fall closed again, leaning into your touch.

"This isn't very 'best lay your life' behavior."

"I will fuckin' strangle you," he mutters, his eyes still closed, a smile playing on his lips.

"Is that part of the Joel Miller Experience too? Because I don't remember seeing it in the brochure. Was it next to the premature ejaculation section? Or maybe the-"

The air is knocked right out of your lungs, cut off mid-sentence when Joel pushes forward. He keeps it slow but unrelenting, sinking into you in one smooth, fluid motion. You cry out, your back arching off the bed, eyes screwing shut as your fists twist in the blanket underneath you.

It's more than overwhelming, it's absolutely mind melting the way he buries himself completely, stretching your walls, forcing them to make room for him, to mold perfectly around his length. You gasp for air between harsh pants and weak cries, the sensation of him filling you up, so much bigger than you expected, so much thicker than his fingers. You squirm underneath him, trying to get used to the feeling of his tip pressed against your cervix, the pressure building deliciously as the ache radiates from your core through your belly, to the tips of your toes.

"That what you wanted, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice strained and gruff, one hand still gripping your hip as he presses the other into the mattress by your head, holding himself up. "Is that enough for you?"

You struggle to find words, but you're not even sure if there are any in the English language that can convey just how good it feels.

"Uh-huh," you nod, blinking rapidly as the edges of your vision start to blur. "Fuck, Joel. You're so fucking big, oh my god."

You hear him chuckle, and he presses a chaste kiss to your temple.

"Not too much though, is it? Cause you were begging for more just a second ago. Thought you could take it, sweetheart," he croons, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

"No, no, 'sgood, " you whimper, the words slurring together as he starts to grind into you. "F-fuck. Joel. Shit, that feels so good. Holy fuck.

"There's my good girl," he murmurs, pressing more kisses to your cheek and your jaw, trailing down the column of your neck. His lips brush against the sensitive skin, his breath hot against you. He lets you get used to the feeling, cursing under his breath and trying to think of anything else but the tight, wet heat convulsing around his cock.

"Doesn't hurt?" he asks with a sudden tenderness, his voice vibrating against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"No," you sigh, finally starting to relax around him.

"Good. You gonna let me know if it does, right baby? Or if you need me to stop?"

You nod weakly. "Mhm."

He kisses you then, a soft, languid, and lazy drag of his lips against yours. He slides his tongue along your lower lip, and you let him in without any hesitation, parting your lips with a breathy sigh. He takes the opportunity to swallow down every little sound that spills from your mouth, kissing you with a kind of reverence, a kind of tenderness, a kind of patience and passion that makes your heart feel like it might beat right out of your chest.

He pulls away leaving you even more breathless and dizzy, your lips tingling and swollen. And you're not sure if it's because of the kiss or the way he's stretching you so fucking wide, but your fucking drunk on it.

He kisses you once more, on the corner of your mouth, his lips curling up into a smile when you nuzzle against his cheek, seeking out more.

"You still with me, honey?"

"Yes, yes, I'm here," you answer, your voice sounding far away, distant and dreamy. Joel chuckles, the sound making you smile.

"You wanna keep going, sweetheart? Or d'ya need a minute?"

"I'm good, I'm good," you assure him, trying to lift your hips a little. "You can...keep going."

"Alright. Let me know if you change your mind, okay?"

You nod and then close your eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath as Joel pulls out, just a little, his cock dragging along your walls. It's another wave of overwhelming sensation, your entire body shaking. But it's nothing compared to the feeling when he pushes back in. The same full, aching, almost painful stretch, except it's somehow even better this time, your walls gripping him tighter, pulling him in, trying to keep him there.

"Fuck, oh my god, oh my god," you cry, your breath catching in your throat, your eyes fluttering open to look up at him. "Oh, Joel, fuck."

He's hovering over you, his brows furrowed in concentration, the muscles in his arms, chest and stomach flexing and contracting as he moves above you.

"Good?" he asks, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, his eyes hooded.

You answer with a nod, followed by a long, low moan when he starts to slowly pull out again, pushing back in a bit faster this time. He builds a rhythm, the slick drag of his cock filling you up again and again, each thrust a little deeper, a little harder, a little faster.

"You're taking it so good," he pants, his hips snapping against yours with a particularly hard thrust, the force of which has you keening and crying out his name. Your walls clench around him, a gush of slick pouring out around his cock as you subconsciously try to pull him in even further.

"God you're so fucking tight, baby. Fuckin' soaked too, dripping all over me. Fuck. So fucking wet and perfect," he groans, his voice sounding strained, almost like he's in pain. "Such a good fucking girl."

You can't do anything more than just lay there and let him fuck into you, the sounds that spill from your lips a mix of moans, whimpers and desperate little cries. Your brain feels like mush, all thought processes reduced to a single loop of his name, your lips chanting it over and over.

And Joel's not much better, the only coherent words out of his mouth a string of praises, calling you his good girl, telling you how well you're taking him, how fucking tight you are, how heavenly you feel. His hands are everywhere too, caressing, stroking, kneading, squeezing, leaving no inch of your skin untouched.

He finds a steady rhythm and you know it's not nearly as hard as he could go, not by a long shot, but every thrust and drag of his cock hits you so deep and so hard, it's a miracle that you don't shatter beneath him. And the sounds, god the sounds are so obscene, the slapping of skin against skin, the wet, squelching noises of him pounding into your dripping cunt. It's a chorus of pure debauchery, music to both of your ears, only adding to the building pleasure.

And just when you start to think that it can't possibly get any better, he hits a spot deep inside you that has your body bowing, a strangled cry tearing from your throat. You clamp down around him and he curses, his hips stuttering, his rhythm faltering for just a moment.

"There it is," he grunts, and you can hear the smug smirk in his voice, the absolute bastard. "Right there, huh? That the spot?"

He doesn't wait for you to answer, pulling almost all the way out, and then driving back into you, hitting the same spot dead-on. And you keen and wail, your body thrashing wildly as a new wave of ecstasy washes over you.

"Yes, yes, yes," you chant, clawing at his back, digging your fingers into his shoulders.

"Yeah, I got ya," he husks, leaning down to suck and bite at the skin just below your jaw. He keeps pounding into that spot, making sure to hit it every damn time, and your vision starts to blur again, black dots dancing at the edge of your eyes.

You don't even realize you're about to come until it's crashing into you, a sudden and violent wave that threatens to tear you apart. And Joel can tell, from the way you start to shake, the way your walls are clamping down around him, the way your legs lock around his waist, and the way you're desperately gasping for air, that you're right there.

"There you go, sweetheart," he coos. "You're so fucking close aren't ya? I can feel it. You gonna come on my cock? Huh?Gonna let me feel that tight little pussy coming all over me?"

"Oh god, Joel," you sob, tears welling in your eyes, his words alone pushing you even closer.

"I know, honey. I know. Just let go, baby. C'mon, that's it. You can do it."

And then he's snaking a hand between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing rough, tight circles against the swollen bud, and the pleasure reaches its peak, the coil in your belly snapping, sending you careening off the edge. Stars burst behind your eyelids as the most intense, powerful orgasm of your life tears right through you. Every muscle in your body tenses and contracts, the rush of blood roaring in your ears as white-hot bliss erupts throughout every fiber of your being, your walls pulsing wildly, gushing slick around his cock.

He's there with you every step of the way, murmuring praise in your ear, fucking into you and grinding his cock against your cervix, prolonging your orgasm, extending it for what feels like an eternity. And then you're boneless, spent, and helplessly limp, barely aware of the way he's still rutting against you.

"So good, baby," he rasps, his voice sounding wrecked and broken. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

And then you feel him start to swell and his thrusts become erratic and you know he's right there with you, teetering on the edge, ready to fall. A few more pumps of his hips, his pace frantic and uncoordinated before he pushes himself back up on his knees and pulls out of you with a hiss. He jerks himself for half a second before spilling all over your belly and your cunt, hot, thick ropes of cum splashing against your skin. He grunts and hisses through clenched teeth, a few last drops spilling out onto your pussy, his cock throbbing against you.

You feel completely and utterly destroyed, every part of your body buzzing and tingling, still trembling. And your head feels stuffy and foggy, a hazy, peaceful kind of bliss settling deep in your bones.

Joel slumps down next to you, breathing heavy, a low, rumbling groan escaping his lips. You glance over at him, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He's a sweaty, disheveled mess, and the sight makes your heart ache and swell, a rush of warmth flooding through your body.

He notices you looking at him and turns his head to meet your gaze, his own satisfied smile matching yours. You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling out of your throat and spilling past your lips in a breathy giggle. Joel's smile spreads even wider, his eyes sparkling.

"What's so funny?" he asks, propping himself up on his elbow and rolling onto his side.

"Nothing, I just," you giggle again, and it's almost a hysterical kind of laugh, a nervous kind of relief flooding through your body. "That was…"

Joel chuckles, brushing a lock of hair out of your face, his fingers trailing across your forehead.

"Yeah, it was," he says, his voice a low rumble.

"And I…I just really like you, Joel. A lot. I don't know. I guess I'm just happy."

His face softens and he stares at you for a moment, his expression so fond and tender that you forget how to breathe for a moment. He leans down and kisses you, his lips gentle and warm before he pulls away.

"I guess I like you too," he murmurs, his signature smirk playing on his lips. "I dunno about a lot, but-"

"Shut up, you ass" you giggle, slapping his shoulder. "I'm trying to have a moment."

He hums delightedly and presses another kiss to your forehead."M'kay, you have your moment. I'm gonna clean you up, alright?"

You pout but let him go, letting the afterglow of your climax envelop you until he returns a moment later with a warm wet cloth. His touch is tender, gently cleaning between your legs and then wiping the cum from your belly. You're still shaking, every touch sending little aftershocks through your body.

"So," he starts, tossing the cloth into the corner of the room before looking at you expectantly. "Best lay of your life?"

You laugh, your heart bursting at the seams, your cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so hard.

"Not even close."

Thank you for reading!! I apologize in advance for any errors I do not enjoy editing!!

tagging those who asked and who might be interested:

@shewantstoknow @pedritoferg @khindahra @wand-erer5 @akah565 @thereaperisabitch @first-edition @lilyevanstan1325 @lovelyjess69 @elliesswearjar @iloveenya @harriedandharassed @c2ss1e @paleidiot @starry-eyes-love @lola8888673 @saguchiya @milla-frenchy @cayleejz @missyorkswhore @farrowroyale @abbyandersonsragdoll @glimmering-darling-dolly @katiexpunk @worhols @thecasualnope @ahintofkiwistrawberry @lulawantmula @sawymredfox @prismaticpizza @serenadingtigers @venturawriter @kyloispunk @millercontracting @jjhayhay20 @bitchesuntitled @bean-is-reading @lvl-2005 @kamcrazy123 @covetyou @survivingandenduring @pinkiec6-rubi @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @pedroshotwifey @perfectlyfreeanalyst @plsdontmisfire @lokigonnakmsforbucky @kr-ickl3

I will not tag ageless/faceless (no pfp) blogs. If you asked to be tagged and weren't you either did not have an age/pfp or Tumblr wouldn't let me :(

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

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foxy-eva · 4 months

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Elixir

Summary: Studies suggest that orgasms can help relieve pain. Reader tests that theory when Spencer complains about a headache.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) mentions headaches and migraines, heavy kissing, a hint at somnophilia, handjob, thigh riding/grinding, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

It had been a week since you’d kissed your boyfriend. An entire week of late-night phone calls, an uncountable amount of whispering, ‘I miss you’ and even more time spent yearning for him. With every step towards your apartment door your excitement grew, you couldn't wait to finally put your mouth on those beautiful lips again. Once you unlocked the door you were practically beaming with anticipation.

However, instead of being greeted with a similar amount of eagerness, Spencer only managed to whisper a timid, “Hi love.”

Your demeanor changed instantly when you found him lying on the couch, his head thrown back against the backrest. With quiet steps you came closer, worried that his migraines might have returned.

“What's wrong?” You asked as you sat down beside him.

“Just a tension headache.”

Leaning down, you placed an innocent kiss on his cheek before breathing, “Sure it’s not a migraine?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I think I’m just overworked,” he sincerely told you.

You lay down beside him and curled into his side. With your arm wrapped around his body you tried to get closer to him.

“What can I do to make it better?”

Spencer turned his head and placed a soft kiss into your hair before mumbling, “Just having you close to me already helps.”

As you breathed in his intoxicating scent you tried to tame the burning fire inside you. That was until you remembered something. A smirk formed on your face when you decided to make a suggestion.

You sat up to find his eyes before you said, “I read a study once that orgasms help with headaches. Maybe we should test that theory. You know… for science.”

The smile that formed on his face warmed your heart. It seemed like he thought about it for a moment but then admitted, “I’m sorry but I think I’m too exhausted to do anything.”

“That's okay,” you chirped. “I don't mind doing all the work. You can just sit back and look pretty.”

Your boyfriend seemed intrigued but not yet convinced. “You really don’t have to.”

“I love taking care of you, Spencer,” you reassured him.

He nodded, “Okay.”

Without any restraint he moved with you as you began undressing him. You rid him of every layer of fabric until he lay completely bare on the couch. Unabashedly you let your eyes roam over his body, taking in the beauty in front of you.

“You’re so pretty,” you mumbled while reaching out your hand to touch the softness of his tummy.

He gasped when your fingertips began dancing along the trail of hair underneath his navel. Spencer’s hand found the hem of your shirt, tugging on it to signal you that he wanted to see everything your body had to offer.

Slowly you began shedding your own clothes, revealing your skin to him while noticing how he seemed to get more and more excited. Your lips captured his in a kiss that quickly turned passionate while one of your hands snuck down his body.

He was already half-hard when your fingers began brushing over velvety skin. In a matter of just a few moments he got so aroused that his erection felt hot and heavy against your palm.

You broke the kiss to tease him, “See, I knew you wouldn't be too tired for that.”

Spencer nonchalantly countered, “I’m pretty sure that would still work even if I was asleep.”

“Yeah?” You purred while moving your hand up and down his length. “Maybe I should test that theory too, sometime?”

Instead of answering you, a loud groan fell from your boyfriend’s lips.

Between kisses you mumbled against his lips, “Is that something you would like, my sweet boy?”

“Fuck…” He whined when your thumb brushed over his sensitive tip. “Yes!”

His response let your heart skip a beat but you decided to bring it up another time. Right now you had more important things to focus on. You kissed him again, your tongue brushing against his lips until he granted you entrance.

Your kiss grew more urgent with every second passing and you became desperate to feel more of him. Quickly you shifted your position until you were hovering over him, your hands on his shoulders and one of his thighs between your legs.

Without breaking the kiss you began grinding your core against his leg, creating some much needed friction. Spencer's hands flew to your hips, burying his fingertips into your supple flesh and moving with you.

The tension inside you only grew as you moved against his thigh, certain that your honeyed wetness was spread all over his skin by now. His muscles tensed underneath you and by the way he sighed into your mouth you knew how much he enjoyed being used like that.

Your own sounds of pleasure finally broke the kiss and Spencer seized the moment to stare down at your bare form.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured. “You look like a goddess.”

With a gentle touch on his chin you tilted his head until he found your eyes again. His cheeks were tinted in a rosy shade and the black of his pupils had swallowed the gold of his irises almost entirely. His lips were parted, heavy breaths escaping his throat as he looked up at you.

“I want you inside me,” you purred with a smirk painted over your face.

With a nod he signaled his approval and moved with you until you were hovering over his cock. You reached down to guide him to your waiting heat, letting his leaking tip glide through your glistening folds to cover him with your arousal.

“Please,” Spencer whimpered, already impatient to finally feel you wrapped around him.

Tonight you weren’t in a teasing mood so you gave into his plea and slowly sank down on him. The way he stretched you open inch by inch completely clouded your mind. When he was fully inside you, you closed your eyes and took a moment to feel him throbbing deep within your body.

A sudden thrust let your eyes shoot open and a gasp escape your mouth. Spencer's hands gripped your hips so hard you were sure you’d find his fingertips imprinted in your skin in the morning. Despite your surprised reaction he kept moving, thrusting his hips upwards, desperate to feel more of you, to feel all of you.

With your hands on his shoulders you tried to still his eagerness with no success.

“Spencer,” you snickered. “Slow down.”

It seemed like he had long forgotten your promise to do all the work and any sign of a headache had already vanished. His big puppy eyes found yours, almost looking innocent.

“What?” He chuckled as he slowed down his movements. “You usually like that.”

“I do,” you cooed. “But today I’m in charge, so lean back and relax.”

Spencer did as he was told. You took your time with him, relishing the sensation of being one with him. Whenever you felt him inside you, you couldn't shake the thought that your body was made only for him. No man before him could ever bring you that much pleasure.

With your hips carefully grinding against his, you set a new, almost torturously slow pace. Leaning down, you placed your lips on his, your kiss only interrupted by sighs and moans that needed to escape. Tilting your hips, you slightly changed the angle to make your motions even more enjoyable. The pressure inside you grew, aware that you wouldn't be able to last much longer.

Spencer's hands were still on your hips but they were less demanding, letting you be in control and moving with you however you desired to. Only when your pace quickened did he dare to let one of his hands move to where your bodies were connected.

With skilled motions he pressed his thumb against your most sensitive spot, smirking against your lips when it became obvious how much you craved to find relief. When your entire body shook and your walls tightened around his hardness, it became almost impossible to keep moving.

Spencer took over, thrusting up into you until you finally fell over the edge with a loud moan. When he felt you pulsing around him, he let go himself, entering a stage of pure bliss together with you.

You moved with one another to prolong the euphoria, each throbbing of his cock answered with you convulsing around him until there was nothing left to give. Spencer welcomed you inside his arms, his fingertips gently dancing over your back as you tried to even out your breathing.

With your bodies pressed together you could feel the erratic beating of his heart against his ribs, almost as if it was trying to get in contact with its similarly fast moving counterpart inside your chest.

“I love you,” he mumbled into your hair.

You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and sat up. When you found his eyes, you breathed, “I love you more.”

“Don’t be silly,” he chuckled. “That's not possible.

Your fingertips brushed over his forehead when you asked, “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah I do, actually.”

“That's good to hear,” you said before you started to giggle. “We proved that theory! Maybe you should write a paper about the healing powers of my pu–, ” Spencer was quick to interrupt you with a kiss before any more crudity could leave your mouth.

“I’d rather not,” he laughed. “I’m sure other people would want a taste of you, too. But you're mine.”

“Your own personal elixir,” you agreed.

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @castiels-majestic-wings @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @meyaareads

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff

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yabakuboi · 3 months

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Robin has a love-hate relationship with Steve-and-Eddie. Love, because those are her best friends and her best friends are in love with each other and they never leave her out of anything. Hate, because sometimes she wishes they would because she keeps accidentally third-wheeling herself.

She doesn't hate it that much though, if she's honest. It's just fun to complain, especially because it riles the both of them up.

But right now, she's being quiet so she can witness one of her secretly-favorite Steve-and-Eddie rituals—of which there are many, but this one is silly and endearing.

It starts like this:

The waitress sets down their drinks, lemonade for Robin, coca-cola for Steve, and a cherry soda for Eddie.

"Don't you dare," Eddie says, even as Steve reaches for Eddie's drink, slipping his straw in next to Eddie's and slurping obnoxiously. Eddie doesn't even pretend to stop him anymore. "Unbelievable."

"I just want to taste it!"

"You could just get a whole glass of it! All for yourself!!"

"It's too sweet, I don't want a whole glass."

"What, so you think you can just help yourself to mine?"

Steve's grin is far too smug, even for Robin, even when Steve slides it to her so she can take a sip. Steve is right, it is really too sweet and she wrinkles her nose, but it's worth it for the offended gasp Eddie makes when she slides it back to him.

The diner is their favorite, because everyone who works there has given up on understanding their weird dynamic: Robin and Steve squished into on side of the booth while Eddie's spread out on the other, Robin making gagging noises whenever Steve brushes against her, even though they never sit in any other configuration. The staff has long since stopped asking which of them was her boyfriend, and that's perfect for her.

Besides, she knows that under the table, Steve and Eddie have their ankles locked together like the disgusting love-sick dorks that they are.

The Steve-and-Eddie show continues when their meals come out. Chicken fingers and fries for Steve because he's an actual child, and breakfast for dinner for Eddie because he likes to be contrary. And then the real performance begins.

They "fight" over the ketchup bottle, which really means that Eddie picks it up and Steve snatches it out of his hands—only for Steve to spread it over Eddie's scrambled eggs (gross) for him before he adds a disgusting amount to his own basket.

Eddie makes a game of stealing Steve's fries when he thinks he isn't looking (Steve is, he's tallying each one up in his head, Robin knows this because she's doing it too), and when he finally "catches" Eddie in the act, he steals Eddie's last piece of bacon—the one that's sat untouched for the last five minutes for this very reason.

Then, Eddie's "forcing" Steve to try his grits, like he does every time, and game eats a spoonful of it, every time, and then complains at length how much he hates it (and he actually does hate it, the texture is just not for him, Robin knows because it's the same for her too).

And then they do the worst, most disgusting thing ever: they split the pancake in half. Without fail. Without argument. Every time.

Robin, slurping on her strawberry milk shake that she will NEVER share with anyone ever, thinks that stupid pancake is like the symbol of their love or something. Sh's sure if they weren't in public, they'd be feeding it to each other.

"What?" They say it in unison, and Robin hates when they do that to her.

(Eddie complains about it right back at her, because she and Steve do the same thing to him all the time. They should blame Steve, since he's the common denominator, but he just looks so pleased about them both that they can't rag on him for it, so Eddie remains Robin's sworn enemy and vice versa.)

"What what?" she sneers at them, voice quiet. "You two are disgusting, it's like you're making out right in front of me right now."

"What are you, homophobic?" Eddie hisses back, just as quiet. "I'm in love with your best friend, Buckley. I'm making out with him in front of you for the rest of your life."

"Ugh! I hate you so much."

"Right back at you."

And then they start kicking at each other beneath the table, no doubt catching Steve's ankles in the crossfire. He doesn't tell them to stop though, and Robin can see that pleased, sappy smile on his stupid face out of the corner of her eye, so she lands an exceptionally harsh blow to Eddie's shin in retaliation for making her best friend so happy. He digs his heel into her toes in return.

#steddie #steddie fic #this was originally meant for a steddie love month prompt but i missed posting it up LOL #when will i write steddie without robin??? never #their three musketeer-ism is so important to me #they probably fight over her for best man at their wedding #and they are joint best man at her's #the robin eddie rivalry for steve's love but also they are steve protection squad and steve gossip mongers and steve hecklers #steve 'affection-starved' harrington absolutely thriving having two ppl obsessed with him rn #my fic #dribble drabble #my steddies

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roosterforme · 28 days

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With each email written and received, you and Bradley are both aching for more details. While he's thinking about plans for a first date, you get apprehensive, knowing you're going to be devastated when he returns to wherever he calls home after a few days of leave. If the two of you had an opportunity to speak more intimately, there's a chance the details could fall into place.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being hot

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

After much consideration on the matter, you sat down at home that evening with your phone and started to type up a response to Bradley. He wanted to know in an overabundance of detail how you'd feel if he asked to cancel your dinner reservation and chill with takeout instead? You weren't quite sure what he was getting at, and it felt a little bit like he had given you another assignment to work on, but you were planning on being completely transparent with him.

Once again, the ease with which you and he communicated, even through the written word alone, was something that made you a little dizzy. A little needy. Bradley had better communication skills and paid you more attention than half of the men you'd dated, and he wasn't even in the same time zone as you.

Bradley,

We got the package you sent. My kids went wild over their personalized notes, as per usual. You've reached full celebrity status in my classroom. We'll be working on sending some notes back to you in the next few days, so brace yourself.

Please remember that you asked me for an abundance of detail here... What would I do if you wanted to change plans? Wanted to spend a quiet evening hanging out at your place instead of going out? In an extreme effort to sound as cool as possible right now... just thinking about this is making me feel warm enough that I need to take a lap around my apartment. I guess first of all, I would tell you that as far as takeout is concerned, I love Thai food the most. I'm not very picky though, so even a generic pizza and some beer would more than suffice.

If you said you were tired from work and still wanted to hang out, I wouldn't be too pressed about the details. I would be perhaps a little giddy that you missed me enough to want me around. I'd offer to pick up dinner on my way. I would let you choose the movie. I wouldn't even be upset if you fell asleep. In fact I'd probably just cover you with a blanket and let you doze. There is perhaps no worse feeling than forcing yourself to go out when you just really don't want to. And right now nothing sounds better to me than watching a movie with you on your couch. But I have to know... if you're 6'1", are you too tall to stretch out there comfortably? Where would I end up? Would we be touching? Please reply with an abundance of detail.

I know this scenario is purely hypothetical, but it does sound pretty perfect. I'll be thinking about splitting some Thai curry with you on your couch for a long time. Maybe during those couple days of leave when you get back to San Diego, we could meet? I think I would like that, even if you just have one day before you have to get back to your regular routine. And now I need to take another lap around my apartment.

One last thing. The aviator who took my photo on the beach was a woman, but I appreciate your response. I can't guarantee I'll stay off the beach, but I can guarantee that I'll give a guy a chance. Also, what does a girl have to do around here to get a dreamy sunset photo of you?

Once again, hitting send before I can change my mind.

You took another lap around your apartment, even going so far as to walk around the block before it got too dark outside. Thai food and Bradley Bradshaw and a movie on his couch. There was a loop playing in your mind where he leaned in and kissed you before calling you 'Gorgeous Girl' and reaching for your hand.

"Why are you torturing yourself like this?" you moaned out loud when you walked back inside all flushed with desire. You took a long bath. You made some sleepy time tea. You sat on your couch with your notebook and worked on lesson plans until it was pretty late, but you weren't tired at all.

Frustrated that you were letting this man take over so much of your brain, you went to your bedroom and plugged your phone in for the night. And that's when you heard the familiar ping, alerting you to the fact that you had a new email.

"No way," you gasped when you looked at the screen. You'd just send him a response two hours ago, and Bradley had already written back. You flopped down onto your bed, wrenching your phone back from the charger as you started to read.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Your answer was enlightening, thank you. Relieved to hear you wouldn't pout about missing the dinner reservation. I love Thai food, but I would absolutely insist on grabbing the takeout and having you pick the movie (nothing with scary spiders, please).

I actually don't really fit on my couch too well at all. If I really stretch out, my feet dangle over the arm, and there wouldn't be much room left for you, too. Would we be touching? God, I hope so. Where would you end up? I'm blushing just thinking about the possibilities.

You asked for details? Well, I'd ask for permission. If you gave me permission to touch you, we'd be holding hands. If you gave me permission for more than that, then you'd be covering both of us with a blanket, and I'd be holding you a lot closer. I don't think I should provide further details on that right now, actually. Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head.

If you're feeling generous enough to give me a chance, then I'm feeling generous enough to send you a sunset photo. But frankly a girl like you isn't going to have to do much at all to get whatever she wants. Next decent sunset around here is all for you.

Your Truly,

Bradley

Well, you may never sleep again. You read his email twice before pulling up the photo of him in front of his jet, and your mind started to wander as you looked at his face. No, you'd never sleep again.

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Bradley felt pretty ridiculous. He'd never taken so many photos of himself before in his life. Snapping a few for your class while in his cockpit with all of his gear on was one thing, but trying to get a flattering one of his face with the sun setting in the middle of the ocean was something else entirely. He was alone in a deserted part of the deck, thankful nobody else could see him.

"Maybe she won't notice if I'm not in it," he muttered as he snapped one of the setting sun. The sky was glowing a deep orange, and the clouds moving in made everything look even dreamier. He started thinking about you and the fact that you said you were going to give him a chance. The details weren't important. He'd work that part out. When he got back to San Diego, he was going to see if you and he were as compatible in person as you were right now. But the remainder of his deployment was the one thing that was preventing that from happening immediately, and you did ask him for a photo of himself. If you really wanted it, he'd make sure you had it.

He had never been so stressed out about his scars in his adult life before right now. The best photo he took of himself was one where they looked a little more prominent. He'd sleep on it tonight and consider if he wanted to send it or a different one. Usually he didn't care at all. He supposed that in person, women would either talk to him or not, depending upon if they were bothered by the way he looked or not. But you weren't with him in person, and the more detailed the photos were, the more likely you were to dwell on his face now. He really wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

After grabbing an inspired dinner alone in the mess hall, he thought about eating spicy Thai curry on his couch while you and he argued playfully about which movie to watch. Then he thought about you sitting on his lap and maybe even touching his scars which he hoped you wouldn't be bothered by. Then, as he changed to head to the gym, he imagined all the things he thought about but didn't tell you. Like pulling you onto his lap or stretching out on his couch with you lying mostly on top of him. His hand would find a nice resting spot on your back, or maybe even a little lower. His lips would eventually find yours, and the movie would become a distant memory in his mind.

"Shit." Now he was the one who needed to walk a lap before he could even go to the gym. He was already sweating by the time he got there, making it his continued mission to avoid the married woman while he listened to his playlist. He did a few extra reps, knowing you were on dry land in San Diego and wanting to make sure he looked as good as possible. Maybe he could make up for the close up photo of his face with his body.

Without sleeping on it, Bradley went back to the lounge and logged in. He sent you the best photo of the bunch along with two sentences.

Thinking of you, Gorgeous. Tell me about your week.

But he didn't hear back from you right away, and it wasn't for lack of checking his inbox. He hoped you and your students were working their way through the last batch of notes that he'd mailed. Or maybe you were busy and tired from taking them on a field trip. He was hoping there was a reason other than you not liking his bad selfie that meant he didn't get a response.

Luckily he got busy over the weekend so he didn't have to think about it as much. Each time he climbed that ladder up to his cockpit and waited patiently for his jet to launch from the carrier deck, he took a few seconds to clear his mind and make sure he was focused on the right thing. He needed to survive this deployment so he could even potentially allow his thoughts to go further with you later.

When he made his way back to the lounge after dinner and a shower on Sunday night, he definitely got more in his inbox than he was hoping for. And not in a good way. There was a new message from you, but it was sitting right beneath a second, newer message. From Vanessa.

"What the fuck?" Bradley asked himself, loud enough that the guy next to him turned and glanced his way. It had been months since they'd spoken. Literally fucking months, and she was emailing him now? "No." Sudden panic started to boil to the surface as he quickly tried to click on it, now terrified about what she could be contacting him in regards to.

Hi,

I'm only writing to you because I have a bit of an issue that I need your help dealing with. I can't find my favorite water bottle anywhere. I think it's in your kitchen cabinet, and I just started at a new gym, so I really need it. Let me know how I can get into your house to retrieve it. And please don't take forever to respond to this like you usually do. Like I said, I really need it.

Vanessa

It was a joke. It must be. Bradley double checked the email address to make sure he wasn't being pranked by Nat or somebody else, but no, it was really from Vanessa.

"A fucking water bottle?" he muttered. He couldn't even picture what she was talking about. Unless it was that ugly, oversized pink thing she used to carry around with her everywhere? The one with the big handle that he joked could double as a weapon? That thing?

What the fuck. He wrote back to her before he even bothered to open the email from you.

Vanessa, it's a water bottle. And it's already been months. Can't this wait until I'm home?

He hit send, rolled his shoulders and took a few deep breaths. He could archive her message so he didn't have to see it again, and he'd just deal with her bullshit later. He would read what you had to say instead, and hopefully it would cheer him up. But after he stood and stretched for a minute and sat back down, there was already a new response from Vanessa waiting for him.

"What the actual hell?" he grunted. He didn't even know what time it was at home, and he didn't take the few seconds to do the math as he started to read.

No, Bradley. I can't wait. It's a $65 sustainable, dual temperature, leak proof water bottle in a limited edition color. And I would like it back. I tried to find a replacement online, but I do not want a potentially used water bottle. Please advise.

He sat there with his fists clenched and his jaw set tight. He literally could not believe her. Anyone else would just use a different water bottle like a normal person, but he knew she'd be on his ass nonstop about this now. The fact that he was going to have to explain this situation to Nat and beg her to go over there with his spare key was almost laughable. He'd probably owe her two steak dinners if he asked her to deal with his ex girlfriend, because she never could stomach Vanessa.

He sent Nat a quick email anyway with Vanessa's phone number which he had to look up in his phone, begging her to take care of this for him. It would be worth the price of two dinners at this point. Then he settled back in his seat and tapped on your beautiful name, letting the monitor fill up with your words. When he started reading, he forgot he was supposed to feel nervous at what you sent back in response to the close up selfie.

Bradley,

Wow. I didn't think things could improve after the photo of you with your jet and the video where you're speaking. But I was wrong. So wrong. And I'm not upset about it. You're very handsome. The sunset looks okay, too. Now you're the one messing with my head.

I'm sorry I didn't write back immediately, but you should know that your hot photo has taken up residence in my mind. My week involved three of my students getting sick with the flu as well as a bunch of parent/teacher conferences, and tonight I'm really tired. The idea of snuggling, or more, with you on your couch has been playing on loop. I'm giving you permission to hold my hand if we ever meet in person. You have very nice looking hands. You have a very nice looking everything. Would you mind me asking how old you are?

Right, well, we mailed another box back to you on Friday afternoon. My kids asked me to project a photo of a Super Hornet onto the wall so they could have a drawing contest. I finally caved and let them, and they want you to be the judge. And once again, you'll have eighteen individual letters to read. Nineteen if you include the one I put in the box.

On that note, I'm going to take a bath and snuggle up in bed. And you can't blame a girl for looking at that photo again.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal

Now this was the kind of thing he wanted in his inbox, not questions about missing water bottles. Bradley hit reply immediately, happy that you hadn't even mentioned his scars. You thought he was handsome in the close up picture? He always figured he was okay enough looking that his height and build made women say he was attractive. But you actually called him handsome. He started typing back to you, already feeling so much better.

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After resting all weekend, you were definitely feeling better. You loved your students, but sometimes dealing with their parents was more than you bargained for. Adults were often worse than kids when it came to complaining and exercising patience. All of the conferences from last week were a thing of the past now, but you still felt a little bad for taking so long to write back to Bradley. Especially after he sent you that photo.

Maybe you felt like you had to reel it in a little bit. What was the most that was going to happen? He'd agree to meet you during his short leave in San Diego? Maybe you'd go out on a date? It would probably be the best date of your life. It might even turn out to be the best night of your life. And then he'd leave for another station with the Navy, or maybe he'd return back home, leaving you feeling even lonelier than you did before you inadvertently mailed him that first box.

It was a good thing you had your students to take your mind off things on Monday morning.

"Are we going to talk about aviation now or after lunch?" Violet asked as she unpacked her pencil box.

You took a deep breath and said, "We're actually going to start a unit on Natural History today." Eighteen pairs of eyes stared at you like you'd completely lost your mind. "It'll be great!"

Oliver's hand rocketed into the air. "Does Lieutenant Bradley also know stuff about Natural History? Is that what we're going to write to him about now?"

Great. Your students were just as attached as you were. "Well since our aviation unit is going to be tapering off, we probably won't need to be writing to him as much now."

"What?" gasped Jayden.

"No way," complained Nia.

After that, you tried to move along with your lesson plans, but the entire class just sat there quietly, barely engaged with what you were saying. And perhaps part of it was your fault, because you didn't really feel like teaching this after all. By the time lunch and recess arrived, you felt defeated. You sat quietly at your desk in your empty classroom while your kids played outside, and you ate your lunch while you checked your phone. Bradley had written back an hour ago. Even if you wanted to wait until later to read it, you wouldn't have been able to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

That note from you made my day. I can't wait for the new letters from the kids to arrive so I can spend my evenings writing back instead of absolutely living in the gym right now. You want me to judge a drawing contest? Bring it on. I'm so ready.

I'll tell you how old I am. I wasn't expecting to be so nervous about it, though. I'm thirty-six. You definitely look younger than that. I know it's never appropriate to ask a woman how old she is, so maybe you'll offer that number up without me asking? And maybe you'll tell me that I'm still within the age range of men you let email you regularly? Please?

Not gonna lie, taking a hot bath sounds amazing right now. And snuggling up in something bigger than an extra long twin bed would be heavenly. And thinking about you doing either of those things is enough to get me through the week with a smile on my face. Maybe even through the rest of the month. Maybe even to the point where I'm in San Diego. You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?

I'll be waiting for more air mail and another email.

Yours Truly,

Bradley Bradshaw

"Damn it," you groaned, melting back into your desk chair and shoving a cracker into your mouth. Even if meeting him was going to be a one-off, you still wanted to do this. You still wanted to write back to him and flirt and listen to his voice in the video he sent for your class with Marty the mechanic. You wanted to think about him working out on the aircraft carrier. You still wanted him to call you Gorgeous. You'd write back tonight.

-----------------------

Bradley was taking another video and some more photos in the shop with Marty for your class when one of the admirals stopped by. He jumped to attention and addressed him. "Sir, what can I do for you?"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, you haven't put in for a phone call. Would you like to?"

Bradley just blinked at him for a few seconds. "I don't really have anyone to call, Sir." But that wasn't completely true. He'd never actually asked you about it, but he wouldn't mind calling your number. Which he didn't even have.

The admiral nodded and said, "Just giving first dibs to my high rankers who haven't made a call home yet. Otherwise you're dismissed, Lieutenant."

As soon as he started to walk away, Bradley found himself following along. "Actually, Sir, I may have changed my mind."

If he was already thinking about Thai food and a picnic on the beach for a first date, he might as well just ask you for your number now. As long as you didn't tell him his age was an issue. As long as you seemed keen on the idea of him calling. So he put his name down on the list, and then he started to sweat. He finished up with Marty, and he headed for the lounge.

When he logged in, he braced himself for another note from Vanessa like he always did now, but the only new item he saw was from you. He decided right then that if the vibes still felt right, he'd ask for permission to call you. And yeah, the vibes were feeling pretty fucking good.

As soon as he opened the email, the attached photo at the bottom pulled his gaze in like a beacon. You were in bed, mostly under the covers, and the thin straps of some sort of tank top were the only thing preventing him from having a completely unobstructed view of both of your shoulders. Your skin looked impossibly soft, too perfect for him to touch with his rough hands, and your expression was playful and maybe a little nervous. He could see the soft swell of your breasts before the blankets enveloped your body in the most comfortable looking cocoon. He wanted to join you there in the worst way, and keep you warm enough that you wouldn't even need that blanket.

His heart was pounding as he started to read your note.

Bradley,

You know, it's funny you should mention that, because my currently inactive dating app profile says I'm interested in men who are between 30 and 40 years old. So you sound kind of perfect to me. And not that you asked or anything, but I turned 30 earlier this year. I hope that's within the age range of women that you let email you regularly.

I'm writing this from my bed. I have attached a photo. I'm not wearing any makeup, and I'm all snuggled in for the night, and of course I'm thinking about you. Whether it's a good idea or not, I find myself frequently thinking about you.

Your favorite pen pal

He scrolled back to the photo and sighed. Oh, he knew it was a good idea. Maybe you just needed a little bit more convincing, but it was definitely a great idea. That first date was looking better and better in his mind. He wished he could give you an estimate on when he'd be home so the two of you could start planning it. Bradley's stomach was growling for dinner as he pried his eyes away from your photo long enough to type out a message.

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

And now, once again, he would wait for you to respond, hoping his luck wasn't about to run out.

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A phone call! She him your number immediately, Gorgeous! There are some things you need to hear him say in that raspy, sexy voice! Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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theplaid-wearingmoose · 8 days

Text

Pic credit: @cupcakeinat0r

Warning: Rough sex, overstimulation, dumbification-ish?, name-calling, breeding kink

It started with you making your way to Miguel's office to drop off your mission report and some food from the cafeteria since you were certain he hadn't eaten today. Just before you reached the door, Lyla appeared in front of you. "Hey girly. You here for the boss?" She asked. "Yeah Lyla, I know he probably hasn't come out for food today. Plus I need to drop off my report." You answered. Lyla gave you a sheepish look. "Ummm just be careful...or maybe come back later? It might be better. He's not doing so hot. It's uh...his time of the month?"

You paused at first. You were so busy taking care of anomalies you forgot to check the calendar. Miguel's spider DNA gave him a mating cycle. The first time had taken you by surprise and your muscles ached for 2 weeks. Since then you'd been careful to time it properly and stretch but saving the multiverse from sudden collapse was becoming more and more difficult lately. You totally forgot about Miguel's "heat".

"Oh...um..maybe I'll still go check on him. Just so I can make sure he doesn't hurt himself." You reasoned to her. Lyla shrugged. "If you say so. Don't say I didn't warn you though, girly." You smiled and waved her away playfully as the door slid open in front of you. Miguel's office felt unusually cold, like he had turned the AC on full blast plus some. You didn't even have a chance to speak before hearing Miguel's voice shouting. "LYLA I told you not to let anyone in here!"

Your spider sense pinged just as you saw one of Miguel's huge monitors flying towards you. "Miguel! What the hell, it's me!" You shouted, catching the monitor before it took you out. The force of it did send you back a couple inches but you were otherwise unharmed. You swung up to his platform and set the monitor gently on the floor. "Oh...I-I'm sorry, hermosa. I didn't know it was you." He apologized. He was hunched over in his chair, his large frame curled almost into a ball. He didn't even look up at you but you could see him tense up as you neared him. "You shouldn't be here, querida. It's not safe. I don't wanna hurt you."

You put your hand on his back and Miguel bristled like a cat. "Amor, estoy serio! If you don't leave, I don't think I'll be able to control myself." He warned, his tone was harsh but also pleading. You stood firm. "I'm not afraid of you, Miguel. And I'm not fragile either. You know I can handle it. It'll hurt you more if you don't." You placed your hands on his shoulders and started to massage his muscles when he shot up from his chair and whirled around to face you. "You don't know what you're asking for this time, querida. I tried to take a suppressor and..it didn't work! It only made it worse." He growled. You could finally take in the sight of him fully as he towered above you. His hair was disheveled and sweaty, his normally maroon-colored eyes were a blazing, almost glowing, red. He was breathing heavily and his hands were clenched in tight fists like he was using every ounce of strength to keep them to himself.

You raised your hand to his face, concerned, but Miguel caught your hand in his tightly. "Miguel-" "Why do you insist on torturing me, amor? Don't you understand that the closer you get to me, the more I'm having to restrain myself?!" He pulled you to him and pressed his nose to your wrist, inhaling deeply. "Dios mio...you smell so sweet, princesa. I bet you taste even better." He growled against your skin. Arousal coursed through you as you felt his hard length press against you. "Miguel...I can take it.." You spoke, trying to reassure him, your voice barely making it above a whisper. He leaned close to you, gripping you by your jaw. "I won't be gentle, hermosa. I can't." He rasped. You nodded and gasped as he began to grind his hips against you. One hand ran up the back of your neck and tangled in your hair. Grabbing a fistful of it, Miguel yanked your head back and latched his mouth to your neck. You cried out as his fangs sunk into your skin, marking you as his. He sucked on your neck before pressing his lips to yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth. His other hand ran down your body, squeezing and groping your flesh as he went. He stopped just under your bellybutton and gripped a fistful of your suit. Your eyes widened as you felt a tug and heard the rip of the material.

You pushed on his chest, trying to protest his destruction of your suit but he grabbed your wrist, pinning it behind you, and smothering your noises with his kiss. Breathing heavily, he released you long enough to growl out "I'll make you another suit, querida" before shredding the material on your chest, freeing your breasts. He wasted zero time sucking one of your sensitive nipples into his mouth before rolling the other one between his fingers. You let your head roll back and threaded your fingers through Miguel's hair. His warm tongue flicked across your nipple, making you whimper in pleasure.

Miguel stood up straight and pushed you back against the table. Turning your body away from him, he got on his knees behind you. "Bend over for me, princesa. Let me taste you." He demanded. You bent over the table, your ass and dripping pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel groaned as he massaged your ass. "Fuck, you're so wet already, amor. You're driving me crazy."

You choked out a loud moan as Miguel shoved his tongue inside you without warning. His hands dug into the meat of your ass as he wiggled it against his face. "Oh f-fuck, Miguel! Your mouth feels so good!" You whined. Miguel hummed as he sucked on your clit and flicked his tongue over your wet hole. Two of his large fingers replaced his tongue inside you and began pumping inside you fast and hard. Your legs were already beginning to shake and you knew Miguel wouldn't have mercy on you just yet. You felt yourself coming undone as he ate you like an ice cream. You couldn't help but rock back against his face, crying out his name as you came on his tongue.

Laughing quietly to himself, he stood and wiped his face before cleaning off his fingers one by one, savoring your taste. He went back to rubbing your clit in circles as he positioned himself behind you. He pushed on your back until you were completely flush against the table. You heard his suit turn off and squirmed against him in anticipation.

A loud scream was pulled from your throat as Miguel fully sheathed himself inside you. Giving you absolutely no time to adjust, he began fucking you at such a rough pace, the monitors began to shake from the force of his thrusts. "Ay carajo, bebita...you're so fucking tight....gonna fill this pussy up so good, querida. You're gonna make such a beautiful mama." Miguel moaned. You couldn't form any words. Every ounce of your strength was going to keeping yourself upright. You gripped the edge of the table and held on for dear life. You could see your face reflected in the monitor in front of you, the orange lights illuminating your fucked out expression. Your lips were slightly puffy from Miguel sucking on them and your eyes were half open. Miguel noticed you looking into your reflection and smirked.

"You like watching me fuck you, amor? You do make such a beautiful sight. You can barely keep your eyes open, can you? Do I make you feel that good, baby? Answer me."

"Y-yes, Miguel you- ohmygod- you make me feel amazing. You're so deep inside me...fuck, you're gonna make me cum soon!" You cried. Miguel laughed darkly. "Oh you're gonna cum a few times for me, cariño. As many times as it takes." He growled. Hooking his arm under your knee, he lifted one of your legs onto the table, angling himself so he could fuck deeper into you. His pace sped up and the feeling of his cock so deep inside you had you screaming. The monitors not attached to the ceiling toppled over and crashed to the floor of the platform but Miguel kept his pace as if he didn't even hear them. You didn't even have time to announce it before your orgasm hit you, soaking Miguel's cock and stomach with your wetness. Still his pace did not slow. If anything, it spurred him on even more. "Así baby, cum all over me, princesa. Fuck you're such a good girl for me.." Miguel groaned in approval.

Grabbing your hair, Miguel pulled your head back and pressed kisses to the side of your face as he continued fucking you. "Que linda...eres tan hermosa, amor." He murmured, his gentle words a stark contrast to the rough movements of his hips. "Tell me you love it, princesa." "Ohhhh I l-love it s'much! S'fucking good!" You slurred, your brain foggy from the overstimulation. You were so blissed out you didn't realize your mouth had been hanging open and drool had fallen from your tongue. Miguel smirked when he noticed. "Oh princesa you're drooling, huh? Am I fucking my baby stupid? This cock too much for my dumb little whore, hm?" All you could do was nod and whimper in response. "Oh pobrecita..." Miguel crooned.

He reached around you and rubbed your clit as he slammed his hips against your ass. Your moans and whimpers grew loud as another orgasm washed over you, your nails clawing at the table.

"M-Miguel please...I c-can't." You sobbed, your legs shaking, dangerously close to giving out. Miguel bent over you and nibbled gently on your ear lobe. "What happened to 'I can take it, Miguel. I'm not fragile, Miguel'?" He taunted. You let out another sob of pleasure as he lifted your leg back onto the table and smacked your ass before gripping it tightly. "Don't worry, princesa. Gonna fill that pussy up soon, gonna put a baby in you and make you a mama. Fuck, amor, you're gonna look so beautiful all swollen with my babies. Gotta fuck it into you deep, baby." He moaned. Your eyes rolled back in your head at his words. "Fuck yes, cum inside me Miguel. Please fill me up! I need it!" You begged. Miguel cursed and gripped your hips hard enough that surely bruises would be there later. Sweat dripped from his hair and a thin sheen of sweat made his chest glisten.

He pounded into you hard, chasing his release. Your screams of pleasure filled his ears and soon he was seeing stars as his release finally hit. His whole body shuddered as he emptied his load inside you, coating your walls in his warm, sticky cum. With a loud grunt, he pressed his hips flush against your ass, making sure he was totally spent before pulling back out of you. Your legs gave out completely and you collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily. Miguel quickly joined you, pulling your trembling body against his sweaty chest. Panting against your skin, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and brushed your hair away from your face. His actions were gentle but as he kissed your cheek, he murmured in your ear.

"Get your rest now, amor. I'm not even close to done with you."

#miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x reader smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara x reader

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 13 days

Text

Promises. | joel miller x f!reader, 2.2k

Summary: A word escapes your mouth, you think you got the upper hand. You don't. Joel eats your ass to put you right back where you belong.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, pwp, rough sex, dom!joel, sub!reader, established relationship, everything that happens has been previously discussed and is consensual, cursing, size kink, dd/lg kink, brief p in v, (1) spanking, (1) pussy slapping, rimming, tongue fucking, brief v!fingering, cum eating because.. OF COURSE, sentimental joel at the end, as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: I don't know what happened, your honor, I swear! I just- I can't- I don't know what to say, ok? It is what it is.

P.S.: Come on, tell me how bad I am at summaries. I'm fine, it's fine, TOTALLY FINE. 😒😶

Dividers by @strangergraphics & @inklore

“Pull me out.”

Joel’s lips brush against your jawline, his hands cupping your ass, grinding you against his hard-on.

You reach for his restrained erection, pulling down the waistband of his sweatpants. How do you always end up completely naked while he’s still clothed, is still a mystery to you.

You look down at his cock, already angry and leaking. You purse your lips and spit on it, lubricating it more, as you slowly stroke it up and down.

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”, you confess as you work him. He laughs through his nose bashfully and shakes his head slightly at your compliment.

“You’re so warm and big and hard, daddy.” you add, your eyes fixed on his massive length.

The words slip out of your mouth without a second thought. Your body stiffens over him; you never thought about this before. And he never asked you, either. You close your eyes hoping he didn’t get that. In your dreams.

He stops the movement of your hips and tilts his head to look at you. “What did you just say?”

His eyes are dark, wild fires of desire dancing across them. But you can’t see that, hidden behind your shame.

“Uh-” you hesitate, feeling embarrassed, needing to explain yourself. Yeah, he won’t have that. His hand grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to look at him, to repeat your words. You groan at his rough treatment, because this is how you love Joel. Sweet and caring, but also dominant and possessive.

“Say that, again.”

You see the look on his face now, the desperation behind his stern demeanour, and it spurs you on, makes you feel in control.

“I need you inside me, daddy.”

“Again.”

“Please, daddy.” you whine, trying to rub your clit on his erection, but his fists tighten around you even more.

His throbbing cock twitches in your palm, leaking all over your knuckles.

“Did you like that, daddy?”, you grin at the effect you are having on him.

The time has come to remind you who is really in control here.

He grabs your hips hard and slams his cock into you with all his might.

“Did you like that?”

You can’t answer, your eyes closed and your mouth wide open, you’re paralyzed from the intense sensation of pain and pleasure coursing through your body.

“ANSWER ME.”

“Yeeeeees.” you whimper, boneless in his lap.

“You are not in charge here, little girl. You never were. You do as I say, when I say.”, he commands. Your head is still spinning from the adrenaline rush.

“Answer me when I speak to you.” He emphasises his demand by slapping your asscheek with all his strengh, with the hand he had buried deep inside your cunt earlier. It stings delightfully.

“Y-yes, daddy.”, you frown, your mind confused by the arousal his humiliation brings, your eyes filled with tears.

But his face is still filled with hard lines, he’s not done here.

He pulls you off his cock and pushes you back onto the bed, turning you onto your stomach, completely flat on the mattress. He presses all of his weight over you, his warm body touching every inch of yours.

“Look what you made me do, little girl.” he growls into your ear as he gently removes your hair.

“Wasted all your delicious juices on your cheek, tryna’ put you in your place. I needed to taste that.” You never know what to say when he talks like that. You pray he won't punish you for your silence. But he doesn't seem to care.

“I guess I’ll have to lick that off you now, won’t I?” Fuck.

His calloused palm continues to press down on your back, making it clear that you are not to move an inch. He snakes down between your ass, grabs a handful of your cheek and shakes it to watch it jingle. He licks a wide stripe of your still aching skin, collecting the smeared arousal from it.

“Hmmm” you hear him moan at the taste.

He continues to lick, nip and suck at your skin, moving closer and closer to where your ass meets your thigh and then further inside, close to where you want him most. You arch your back and raise your hips, bending your knees slightly, your legs still completely closed to give him better access.

“Demanding, aren’t we?” he asks rhetorically.

“You’re lucky I’m so goddamn thirsty.” He licks another wide stripe with the flat of his tongue from your center to your tight ring of muscle, leaving your clit untouched. Oh.

No, that can't be. That was an accident. And then he does it again. He licks into your hole, through your folds, dragging your slick up your asshole. Oh.

He begins to swirl his tongue slowly, making deliberate circles, moistening the folds around your puckered hole. Ok, he’s eating your ass, it is happening. He flattens his wet muscle against your tight ring, pressing it firmly to feel the weight and texture of it and he licks as if you’re a fucking ice cream.

His tongue becomes more persistent, aggressive, he’s making out with it now, his lips closing around the tight skin as his wet muscle pushes against your opening. You’re panting at the sensation, strange and new, scary and taboo. Perfect. You start to clench around him, it’s ok baby, I got you and your muscles relax to the assault of his tongue. He feels you become putty in his hands and that makes him wild. Your devotion, your trust, your openness to everything he wants to give you.

He cups your cheeks in such a crushing grip, literally lifting your hips by them, spreading you even wider for him, your skin stretched and aching. Your head is in a haze from the dichotomy of sensations. The pain is almost too much, your skin is red and stinging, almost pinching your heart, but the intense pleasure your asshole receives from his hungry mouth is unbearable. Your cunt is fluttering in a desperate effort to clench around anything and you’re dripping, dripping, dripping.

“Please..” you mumble into the sheets, not knowing what you’re pleading for exactly.

He doesn’t answer, lost in his own pleasure.

“Please.. Daddy, please..” you whimper breathlessly.

That seems to bring him back to the present. “What is it babygirl? What do you need?” You continue to whimper and wriggle on the sheets.

“What is it? Daddy eating your tight little asshole isn’t enough? You want more?”

“I- I- just- need to come, daddy, please, it’s too much- it hurts.”

“Does it, now? Where does it hurt, little girl?”

“My- my pussy, please-”

He then bites down hard on your cheek, making you yelp.

“Where. Here?” He prods a finger at your drooling opening. “Here?” He pets softly your swollen bud and you let out a deep moan of relief.

“Oh, I see. I’m sorry little girl, but it’s not her turn. What is going to happen is I am gonna fuck your tight asshole with my tongue and if you are good for me I’m gonna fuck that little pussy of yours with my fingers. And you’re gonna come like this; am I making myself clear?”

“Yes.” you whisper on the verge of collapsing.

“Yes, what?” he demands, slapping your pussy.

“Y-yeeees, daddy.”

“That’s my girl, being so good for her daddy.” he mumbles and then continues. “Or maybe… I should fuck this little hole properly-”

“D-ddaddyyy-” your brain short-circuits, anxiety overwhelming your senses.

“What’s the matter, baby girl, daddy’s too big for you?” he chuckles wickedly. “Don’t worry sweetheart,” he coos next to your ear, his stiff length resting between your asscheeks, “I’m not gonna hurt you. The time will come, but not now.”

You relax, even though you already know Joel would never do anything by force.

He begins to grind his hips against your bottom, his leaking cock smearing pre-cum along your folds and ass.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he grunts through his teeth, “it would be so easy, so easy to slam my cock right back into your tight cunt; look at her crying for me, fuuuck.”, he talks incessantly, his hot breath ghosting over your damp skin.

Your eyes roll back at his dirty mouth and you raise your hips more in invitation.

Joel presses his hips down, taming you, easy babygirl. The warmth of his pelvis melts you to the mattress.

“But daddy promised, didn’t he? Hm?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“That’s it, baby. Those are the only words you need to know.” Joel whispers into the back of your head, kissing your hair. “Daddy’s gonna take care of you now.”

He straddles your closed legs again and lifts you up by your hips, your cheeks already showing the results of his rough treatment, red and sore to the touch. He spreads your puffy folds with his thumbs one last time to look at your begging hole, beautiful, you think you hear him mumbling.

The tip of his tongue plunges into your soaked cunt, collecting as much of your slick as he can and dragging it up, up, up to your tight ring. He spreads it all around, tonguing your folds, then flicks his tongue up and down and from side to side, driving you mad. You can feel every vertebrae in your back from your tail to the back of your neck due to his ministrations.

His thumbs now slide higher up your cheeks, opening you up even more. He caresses and prods your opening with his nose giving you a whole new sensation and then he fuckin’ spits on it. It’s warm and sexy and dirty and you clench involuntarily. Relax for me, his lips brush against your sensitive skin and as soon as you do, he pushes all the way in, as deep as he can get his slick tongue to go. He starts bobbing his head up and down using the force of his head to fuck you deeper, the squelching sound of the penetration making your swollen clit twitch. His cock is painfully hard, leaking onto your legs beneath him.

You’ve never felt more aroused in your life, the smell of sex in the sheets, the position he’s got you in, the act he’s performing on your- well, his body-, because everything that's yours belongs to him; you've long since surrendered your resistance to those deep brown eyes and those capable hands. Your whole body trembles with his attention, the way he moans into your skin brings you almost to a climax with precision.

“I- I n-need your cock, daddy, please.” you beg in a trembling voice and he smiles against your aroused flesh.

“No, baby, you’re right there,” he replies, always in tune with your body and the way it responds to his touch, “you just need a little.. push” and with that he plunges three thick fingers into your cunt and begins to shake them from side to side, creating a sensation of vibration in your soft walls and at your g-spot.

“D-ddddadddyyyy” you drool incoherently into the crumpled sheets, your face pressed against the mattress as you begin to come, both your holes spasming hard around his tongue and fingers. Joel groans deeply through his chest, a pained moan and pulls away to watch your trembling body riding out its high. Your skin in covered in sweat, your back is arched and your cunt and ass are on display, slicked and shiny, clenching through the last waves of your orgasm.

Still straddling your legs, he fists his throbbing cock, guiding its swollen head against your pulsating ring and he pumps himself with his cum-covered fingers, two, three, four times and he comes; thick, hot ropes of his spend sprouting through his slit and onto your asshole, running down your puffy cunt.

The warmth of his cum on your abused holes creates a new wave of euphoria, the adrenaline making your body shake even more. Joel milks the last drops of his cum, watching as his seed drips from your cunt onto the sheets, as you lie flat and limbless on the bed. He cups your mound, the heel of his palm on your asshole, his fingers on your clit, massaging his creamy release all over your pleasure points. You want to back away and grind on his hand at the same time, a broken sigh escaping you as you bite your lower lip.

Joel enters you with two fingers, fucking some of his cum into you gently and nonchalantly, the thought of his seed being wasted outside your body almost unbearable to him.

“Open.”, he commands and you obey, as you always do. He slips his slick fingers inside your mouth and you immediately suck them clean.

“That’s you and me, darling; that’s what it’s all about. You and me, together.”, he whispers and you bite softly at his fingers as he pulls them away from your warmth, unable to find the right words to say back.

He crushes his body over yours, his semi-hard cock twitching between your asscheeks, his soft belly against the small of your back, his warm and sweaty chest enveloping your upper back, as he cages you between his forearms on either side of your own folded arms. He rests his sweaty forehead between your shoulder blades, regulating his breathing and moaning softly as he exhales against your skin.

“Jesus Christ, baby, that was..”

You don’t answer, you can’t, still panting from the intense orgasm and his crushing weight.

“Shit, I’m crushing you, baby- sorry- let me clea-” he tries to move away, but you cage his forearm between your own hand and your ribs, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Just a little longer,” you slur sleepily, “just stay a little longer..”

Joel hums obediently; now he’s yours to do with as you please, your turn, pressing one side of his face to your skin, inhaling your mixed scent, his favorite in the whole damn world.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

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ghouljams · 1 month

Text

Thinking more fallout au thoughts.

Cw: branding, dub-con, mean Ghost

"Would you quit squirmin'." Ghost tells you, yanking your pants down over the curve of your ass. He's got you pinned over his lap, your arms held tight against your sides with no hope of escape. You squirm a little harder, give a valiant effort towards escape, and he swears. "Wouldn't have ta do this if ya quit wandering off."

Branding you, he means.

His words don't inspire confidence, and certainly don't stop you from trying to wiggle you way off his lap. Who cares if you've got your pants around your knees, anything is better than what Ghost has planned.

"This is crazy!" You tell him, "You're crazy!"

"And you're a thief," he responds easily, "won't hurt too bad, animals used ta get branded all the time and they never complained." You thrash. You don't appreciate name calling in a situation like this, but he could at least use words you know.

"Stay still." Ghost spanks you hard and you whimper, dropping your head at the sting. In your brief moment of stillness Ghost reaches over you and pulls a length of metal from the campfire. He holds you tight, keeps you from moving too much when you start to squirm again. He mutters something about you messing up his work, and you freeze when you feel the blistering heat near your skin, then pain.

You scream.

Ghost holds the brand to you for a few seconds before pulling it away. By then you can feel the burn in earnest. It feels hot, obviously, but far past what you thought heat could feel like. It's blistering, stinging, like a scratch that keeps digging deeper. Ghost uncaps his flask and spends it over your ass while you sob. It flashes new heat over your skin but it's cool. It helps a little, at least as long as it takes for his flask to run out of water. You sniffle, try to tough it out until it's just the dry Mojave air on your new burn, then the tears start again.

"I can't believe you," you sniff, trying to sound less pathetic than you feel. Ghost leans sideways, settles the metal on the sand beside him. You don't bother attempting to escape even when his grip loosens, you just slump to wallow in your misery.

"It's barely second degree," Ghost's fingers prod at the warm edges of the burn. You flinch, and he pulls back. The dips and grooves of his hand as it rubs over your unblemished asscheek tells you he's taken his glove off. It's the only warming you have that he's going to slip it between your legs.

You don't have the strength to struggle against his hold again. Ghost drags his fingers along your slit, the calloused and scarred skin rubbing gently against your clit. A different sort of heat. One your body seems all too eager for. You press your hips back into the feeling, eager for some reprieve from the pain still radiating off your skin. It earns you a chuckle from Ghost, a burst of embarrassed warmth over your cheeks, and a more firm, focused attention between your legs.

"There ya go," Ghost coos, "wasn't this the deal? I don't kill you, and you do-" he clicks his tongue, adjusts his grip and smears your slick over the back of your thighs, you hadn't realized how wet you were, "-'ow'd you phrase it again?"

"Whatever gets you off," you whimper, filling in the words you remember all too well. Usually a more rewarding experience and with less burns.

Ghost wiggles a finger into your cunt, pumps the thick digit in and out, curls it to stroke your walls, and makes you squirm desperately. "You want me to kiss it better sweet'art?" Ghost asks, almost mocking in his tone.

You nod anyway, and end up grinding your desperate cunt against his mouth the same as you always do.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod #mw2 ghost #fallout au

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l1tw1ck · 7 months

Text

Dysfunction or Wrong Direction?

bottom!Steve Rogers x top!male reader

☆ Word Count: 1,032 ☆

CW: Dub-Con (Drunk Sex), Virginity Loss, Anal Fingering, Cum Swallowing, Dom/Sub, Anal, Size Kink, Creampie, Corruption

Steve orders another drink and sighs. He's been struggling lately, specifically with sex. No matter what he tries or who he meets, he just can't get it up. Ever since he started working out, he started to get attention from women. Unfortunately for him, he's never been able to actually have sex because they never get him hard.

You sit down next to him and notice his defeated demeanor. “You alright?” You ask.

He turns to you and shakes his head, too drunk to keep everything to himself. “I can't…I can't get it up…but my doctor…my doctor says nothing's wrong.”

“Aw, really? Maybe you should try something new.” You smirk. “Something like…anal?”

“I don't think there's a lot of women who want to do that..”

“I mean you. You should try getting fucked.” You laugh softly. “I’m willing to be your first.” You wink.

His eyes widen, cheeks red. “Oh.”

“What do you think, pretty boy?” You tilt your head. “I promise I’ll show you a good time.”

He’s so drunk that he's willing to give it a try.

Steve looks at you with an adorable expression as your fingers work open his hole. He didn't know it would feel so good, and you're only fingering him. He never thought he'd say this but he can't wait to feel your cock inside him.

“Do you feel okay?” You ask. You already know the answer, thanks to his rock hard cock and his soft moans, but you want to hear it straight from him.

He nods. “‘S good- ‘s good, [Name].” He bites his lip.

“It’s sir.”

He blushes. “Sorry sir.”

“Good boy.” You curl your fingers up and reach his prostate. He gasps, a spurt of cum leaving his cock. “Found it.” You grin.

“Again- please-”

You continuously poke at his prostate, effectively driving Steve crazy.

“Yes- oh fuck-” He throws his head back. “Don't stop–” His moans increasingly grow louder as he reaches his peak.

“You wanna come, Steve? Beg for it.”

He feels so good that he’ll do anything to come. “Please- fuck– please let me- hh- come, sir– please~”

“Go ahead.” As soon as you give him the okay, he comes all over his chest. You slowly pull out of him. He takes deep breaths as he recovers from his orgasm.

“That- that felt so good.” He sighs. “You're…you're gonna fuck me now, right?” He looks at you, the look on his face is unintentionally seductive.

You chuckle. “Mhm.” You drag your tongue along his chest, scooping up his cum and cleaning him up. You pull away and look at him with a smile while unbuckling your belt. He looks at your expression, clear enthusiasm painted on your face. You're beyond excited to take his virginity. His eyes trail down to your crotch. He watches in anticipation as you pull down your pants. He stares intensely at your underwear, aroused by how hard you are. He wasn't sure if he just likes anal or if he likes men too but just looking at your boner is setting him on fire. He wonders if you’ll let him suck you off. He's almost surprised by that thought but considering what he's just done, what he's said, it's not all that surprising in comparison.

His eyes widen as you release your hard cock. He gasps. “You're huge.” He almost whispers. You're even bigger than he is.

“Are you scared?” You slowly pump your cock. “I could settle for a blowjob.” You could, hypothetically, but you'd much rather fuck him.

He shakes his head. “I can take it..” His voice is very breathy. He can't take his eyes off your length. You've awakened a lot in him tonight.

“Yeah? I think so too.” You lick your lips. “Hold your legs in the air.”

He does exactly as you asked, arms wrapped around his legs. “Like this?”

You nod. “You're good at following orders.” You prod your tip against his hole. “I like how obedient you are. So willing to do whatever I ask.”

He blushes but before he can respond, you start easing your way inside him. “Fu- fuck–” He lets out a sharp breath. “Don't stop- ah–” His uncomfortable expression twists into a pleasured one, his lips moving into a shaky smile. You're stretching him out so much and it feels so damn good. He shivers as your length brushes against his prostate.

You eventually bottom out and stay still, allowing him to get used to the feeling. “You feel amazing, baby…so damn tight.”

He looks up at you. “You're not moving?”

“I’m giving you time to adjust.”

“I don't need time…I need you to fuck me.”

You smirk. “Okay.” You grip his waist and start fucking him roughly, not bothering to start slow.

“So good- fuck- harder!” He moans. “Please, sir~!”

“I’m glad you remember your manners.” You fuck him harder.

“Yes- th- thank you, thank you, sir~” His body shakes. “‘M gonna come- please- uh~ please lemme come, sir-”

“Coming without me even touching you? Maybe your body was made to only take cock instead of giving it.” You chuckle. “You’ve got such a big cock but it's useless. All your body wants is to be fucked.”

Steve moans. “Yes~!”

“You think so too? That you're just a cocksleeve?”

He nods rapidly. “I’m your- your cocksleeve, sir~”

“Yeah? Come for me then.”

Steve’s body shakes as he comes for the second time, coming even harder than last time. He's shocked as you keep going but he's certainly not opposed to it.

“I’m gonna come inside you, okay, baby?”

He nods. “Wha- whatever you want~”

“Good boy.” You lean in and kiss him. Steve sloppily reciprocates it, kissing you back with less experience. His thoughts start to go fuzzy. The overstimulation combined with his drunkenness isn't helping him stay sane. You pull away and lean into his neck, softly kissing it before sinking your teeth into his skin. He rolls his eyes back as you flood his insides with your cum.

“It's warm..” Steve moans.

“You like how it feels?” You smile, slowly pulling out of him. He sighs, already missing the feeling of you inside him. “Let's get cleaned up, okay?”

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #steve rogers x male reader #sub steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #bottom steve rogers #marvel smut #marvel x male reader #marvel x reader #🕯️steve rogers #🕯️marvel #tw dubious consent

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goldhoekin · 8 months

Text

Use Me or Lose Me || Jordan Li

Use Me or Lose Me || Jordan Li x Fem!Reader

summary: After Marie becomes #2 and Brink is killed by Luke Jordan slips in the rankings. They begin to obsess over the rankings neglecting their girlfriend who lets their frustration slips and Jordan takes their frustrations out on their girlfriend.

cw: fem!reader, porn with some plot, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, oral sex (m! & f! receiving), blowjob, overstimulation, ripping of clothes, biting/marking, dacryphilia, degradation, chocking

Words:1.8k

“I can’t fucking believe I’m still number 5. Fucking FIVE babe!” Jordan growls from their spot on their bed, you sigh quietly as you enter the room fully. You’d JUST walked into your partner’s dorm before you were bombarded with Jordan’s endless string of complaints about their place in the rankings. You knew that it bothered them to slip from #3 to #5 after the death of Brink but for FUCKS sake, Luke JUST DIED. You knew that Brink’s death was effecting Jordan as well ( you personally couldn’t give a flying fuck about that creepy fuck, and he held the same contempt as you because he thought you weren’t good enough for Jordan) but this is getting ridiculous. You’d been so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice you’d said it aloud.

“This-this ridiculous?” Jordan says back, their brown eyes flashing from hurt to anger. You yourself feel a flash of regret before you again become angry.

“Yes Jordan, this is getting fucking ridiculous, it’s not that freshmen’s fault she was pushed. I’ve heard her thoughts-trust me she needs to do well so let her have this. Andre, is Andre. He’s a grand poobah nepo baby, there’s not much you can do there but what you CAN do is work out your anger and stop ignoring your fucking girlfriend! You will get your just do, baby I promise you but PLEASE keep sight of what’s currently in front of you before it's not here anymore.” You say, your words falling from your lips before you could stop them, Jordan freezes in place.

Before you can even blink Jordan has you held against a wooden door, your hands on their broad shoulders and their hands on your face to kiss yours with a bruising force. Your legs wrapped around their waist as they roughly invade your mouth, a deep groan escapes their lips as they make their way down the column of your neck. You feel their hands ripping your shirt open, leaving a trail or open mouth kisses down your body.

Moans escape your lips and you feel yourself being unceremoniously tossed onto the bed. Hands running through Jordan's hair, they shift forms and you feel their hands go from large and callous to soft and small. The delicate digits ghosting their hands down your supple body, their tongue following the trail. A rough bite to your breasts causes a breathy gasp to leave your lips, a slender hand sliding into your panties and finding your sopping wet cunt.

Without warning you feel their fingers enter you roughly, two a time. A punishing pace set as Jordan finger fucks you closer and closer to completion. You somehow manage to remove all of your clothing, Jordan paying your antics no mind until they feel your dripping wet pussy clenching their fingers as you nearly reach your peak. They promptly withdraw their fingers from you.

"What—what the fuck are you doing Jor. I was so close, baby please!" You whine, your thighs rubbing together to get some sort of friction as you look at your partner’s wickedly smirking face. Jordan's form changes yet again to their male form, their cock looking painfully hard.

"OH baby did you think I would let you come so easily after what the fuck you said to me? Oh no babygirl you won't get to come until I say so…and if you don't behave and come anyways then I fuck you until there's tears streaming down your face for being fucked so good!" Jordan says, claiming your mouth again, the tip of their cock rubbing against your aching pussy.

Without warning they plunge their length into you, a deep moan leaving their beautiful lips as you feel Jordan set a brutal pace. Their hands bruising your hips as they fuck you into the mattress, your breasts bouncing wildly with the force of their thrusts. Suddenly you feel yourself getting flipped onto your stomach, face pressed down into the mattress, your ass in the air and Jordan never leaving your cunt. Their thrusts somehow get faster, harder.

Your hand tries to sneakily reach down to rub your clit, desperate for release. Jordan had unfortunately caught you and brought both of your hands tightly behind your back, one of their hands tightly grips them. The other hand roughly slaps your ass, "I told you baby girl. You cum when I say you can fucking cum, not before. Do. You. Understand?" Jordan growls, each word punctuated with a harsh thrust.

You whimper in response to their harsh treatment of you, and as fucked up as it seems. You actually fucking love it, it feels so good to be tossed like a ragdoll by Jordan. Them working their frustration out on you and finally paying attention to you since Marie got to Godolkin. You can feel their mouth nipping and biting any skin they can get to, leaving deep love marks and the like unto your skin. You can feel them gripping your wrists tighter and you feel the knot in your stomach so close to unraveling and you know Jordan can feel you tightening up around them.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum, do you understand me?” They whisper in your ear, nipping as they do so.

“I𑁋i’m trying but I don’t think I can Jordan. Please baby, let me cum!” You whine out, desperate for release.

A dark chuckle leaves their throat, their thrusts getting sloppy as they piston in and out of your weeping cunt. Their thrusts stop as they fill up to the brim with their hot cum and a deep groan leaves their lips as they fuck you through their orgasm. At the last second where you feel your own climax about to topple over the edge the cock is gone and Jordan’s large hands become delicate again. They fucking changed forms again and tears begin to fall down your face as you realize you didn’t get to cum. You feel their supple hand grip your face harshly, “What’s wrong baby? I did warn you didn’t I? Not until I tell you to cum to you cum Angel.”

They kiss away your tears, move their way to the top of the bed, lovely legs spread open and their cunt glistening in the cheap fluorescent lighting, they look you in the eye, “What are you waiting for? Get to work babygirl, you get me to cum again and I may think about returning the favor.”

Without hesitation you lunge into Jordan’s cunt and begin lapping at your pussy with a vengeance, like a woman starved to get them to cum as soon as superhumanly possible. Your fingers rubbing their clit furiously, one hand gripping their left thigh in a vice grip, leaving crescent shaped marks on their thigh. A hand roughly pushes down your head, which causes your tongue to plunge into Jordan’s cunt.

You move your tongue at a steady pace, adding two fingers that you curl periodically inside Jordan, their cunt tightening around your digits. Their legs wrap around your head tightly as they reach their peak, a high pitched scream leaves their mouth as they cum again, legs shaking as they come down from their high. Sweat coats their skin as they struggle to catch their breath, “Fuck babygirl…I guess since you did so good I’ll give you what you want. How do you want me?”

You feel your heart soar, you’d been rubbing your thighs together to gain any sort of relief, any sort of friction to get yourself off. “I-i need you to fuck dick me down, real good and real hard. Punish me anyway please Jordan please!”

A smile graces their face as they switch forms again, they hold their cock in their hands, “Well I’m gonna need some assistance Angel…” You eagerly take their cock into your mouth, licking and sucking them until they get erect again, you remove your mouth from their cock, a string of saliva connecting the two.

“You look so fucking good like this, I can’t believe you’re all mine.” Jordan says as they move into position behind you, rubbing the tip of their cock between your throbbing pussy lips. Ever so slowly they slide their cock into you inch by inch, Jordan holds your hips in place as you try to push back into them. Once they fill you to the hilt they immediately pull almost all the way out only to roughly slam back into you.

They set a brutal pace, holding your head down by your neck to brace themself as they roughly fuck you into oblivion. You feel your orgasm building up again so fast, you are so close and Use Me or Lose Me || Jordan Like a dam overflowing you feel yourself practically dissolving around Jordan.

You feel a gush of liquid escaping from your cunt, your legs giving up on you as you struggle to hold yourself up. Jordan doesn’t stop though, they continue fucking you through your orgasm, you feel yourself getting over stimulated and you try to wiggle away from Jordan but they hold you in place.

They slap your ass roughly and repeatedly, rubbing soothing circles onto your stinging flesh. Tears fall down your face as you look back at Jordan pleadingly but at the sight of your tears they laugh. “Look at you being a crybaby about getting dicked down like you wanted. You wanted me to treat you like the needly little whore you are and now you’re whining about getting what you begged for? You’re pathetic baby girl!”

They fuck you through yet another orgasm, whimpers spilling from your lips as you feel yourself cum again spasming around Jordan’s cock as they give you no time to rest. They rub your clit as you cry out again and again, relishing the feeling of you squeezing the life out of their cock, you feel their hand gripping your throat. They tighten it around your neck cutting off your air supply, a rough kiss applied to you lips, their thrusting never ceasing their pace in the slightest. You feel them throbbing close to yet another release, just as they release your neck to fill you up yet again do you feel their teeth bite deep into your flesh.

As you take in gasping breath they lick at the wound on your neck, gripping your body as they slump onto you, not pulling themselves from your heat. They hold onto you and whisper into your ear, “I’m sorry about being an asshole, but just know I won’t just let you walk out on me without a fight Angel.”

They nuzzle your neck and your eyes grow heavy and the ghost of a smile is on your lips, at least they paid me some fucking attention.

#gen v #gen v smut #gen v x reader #gen v imagine #gen v amazon #jordan li #jordan li smut

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lunarw0rks · 8 months

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Hiii so... I don't know how to say that but...

YOU'RE WRITING IS PERFECT, it makes me giggle and through my feet into the air!!! 😭💖

so can you please imagine ghost all whiny and needy for the reader, like what do you think about it😭😭😭

hmmm.. i don't necessarily picture whining but i can see how he'd be needy at times. especially since you two wouldn't have sex often; there are times were he's FERAL !!

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

warning(s): (consensual) cockwarming/somnophilia?, thigh fucking, afab!reader

NEED | SIMON RILEY

usually, when simon gets aroused in the middle of the night, he goes to the bathroom and takes care of it. but tonight was especially difficult to stifle.

his hand just wouldn't do. it wasn't enough. he needed you.

you two had been so busy the past few days, with little time for each other. he got home a few weeks ago, and that meant he had to play catch up on all his household duties. bullshit at the bank, fixing the leaky faucet in the kitchen — and all of his work-related paperwork piled in his study.

and you, having a life of your own, weren't always sewn to his hip. it worked well that way, preventing arguments about clinginess or unavailability. when he was there, you two were great. and that was satisfactory.

after simon's eyes opened, he rolled over and stared at you for a few moments, listening to your faint snores. you slumber on your side of the bed, curled into the fetal position. each night, you sleep on his chest, but somehow end up far from him by the end of it.

tonight it wouldn't fly; he needed your warmth.

scooting closer, he rested his chin on your shoulder, pushing your back plush against his toned chest. "lovie..." he whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss to your earlobe.

his deep tone was audible enough to wake you, even when he spoke in a hushed tone. you twitched awake, feeling the embrace of his arms tight around you; tighter than normal. "what is it, Si?" you mumbled lazily, feeling your eyelids already drooping again.

simon grinds his hips subtly, hoping to send his message without words. but all he's done is coax you back to sleep — or the halfway between.

"need y', sweetheart," he muttered, waking you once again. you grumbled, about to tell him off until you felt the hardened bulge in his sweatpants. how it rubbed against your backside needily, suddenly reminding you of how long it'd been.

sleep called you — violently. you were still exhausted from the day you had, with little to no time to get properly excited. but, my god, was his voice a treat. desperate and pleading, for a change.

without breaking your relaxation, you reached down and lifted the hem of his baggy t-shirt, where you wore nothing underneath. lifting one of your legs slightly, you reached between and palmed him; hopefully that was enough of a message.

his breathing hitched slightly, peering down and seeing your bare rear in the moonlight. he snaked an arm down and peeled back his waistband, freeing the cock you had been trying to reposition. once the clothing barrier was gone, his need was evident.

the breeze of the AC blew against his sensitive length, making him shutter. so, he was right; warmth is what he craved, not necessarily full-on sex.

before you drifted off again, he leaned up against your ear, "this alright with y'?" he teased your cheek with his oozing tip.

once again, the deep octave sent a chill down your spine. with your remaining lucidity, you nodded your head and drawled a yes. you were too comfortable to mind, and it was downright erotic to imagine.

how he'd be lazily rocking into your thighs, maybe against your cunt — all while you remain at peace. the only downside would be missing his sweet grunts and groans when he's close. if you're lucky, perhaps the sounds of his release will intrude into your dream and make it sweeter tenfold.

as soon as he heard your acceptance, he gripped the girthy base of his cock, slipping between your thighs. then, he angles his hips, so that he was also grinding between your lower lips. the natural wetness and his pre-cum made for a messy endeavor, sure to have your sex coated by the time he's finished.

when simon begins grinding his hips, your sleepy body nuzzles him, instinctively pushing further against him. your thighs clench together, engulfing his cock in the warmth he craved and simulating how blissful it was to be inside you.

into your ear, he makes his pleasure known, delicately holding the flesh of your thighs in place.

"so good, lettin' me tease you like this, baby."

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strangerstilinski · 2 months

Text

𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers

It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.

And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.

Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-

You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.

“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It’s like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.

His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.

“What are you even talking abou-”

“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.

“Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”

“God, you are hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”

Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and the boy's chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.

“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”

“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I don't think any of us were that invested hearing you talk about the ‘big tip’ that some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”

“Steve, c'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.

“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.

“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugged, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet. It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”

“What, and just 'cause you're a jackass that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.

“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”

“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you as the rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”

“Well I don't care if some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “So, I guess, if that makes me an asshole-”

“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, and I'm able to do so without acting like a fucking-”

“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”

The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? That was the highlight of your day, because the rest of it had been a fucking disaster.

You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. You'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks squelching wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd burned yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had no choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.

“Y'know what? Fine.”

You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the turn in your evening.

“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”

“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, like he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”

There are protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm still struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.

“Hey! Wait up.”

Steve's voice does make you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around. Your steps finally come to a stop when he calls out to you again.

“C'mon, honey wait, wait, wait-”

You blow out a frustrated breath as he finally catches up with you, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.

“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that’s begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”

You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back around. You lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.

The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. There’s warmth seeping into your palms from beneath Steve’s tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from inside. Your eyes are level with his chin, wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You’re still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.

“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly.

It’s only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face smelling of the gum he’s always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he’s leaning in-

The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can’t think, and you’re not sure you’re even breathing, but his lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You’re gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve’s arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.

His tongue brushes against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.

Your head is a little fuzzy when your lips separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you’re gasping comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve’s quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the back of your neck.

“You kissed me.” The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.

“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”

His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — casual, tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he’s kissing you just because he can.

“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”

“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.

“Why-”

Kiss.

“Are you-”

Kiss.

“Kissing me?”

Steve’s breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D’you want me to stop?”

“No. Hell no.”

And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.

He looks so pretty like this, you think. The light shining above your heads catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.

You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.

“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to shut you up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”

You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Maybe we will.”

When his lips descend on your own again, it takes ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.

It’s like there are hearts in his eyes.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve x you #steve x reader #*

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