#and he picks curt

[haveihitanerve]

if anyone's curious where ill be its six feet under because i just died of cuteness

[somegrumpynerd]

Ink listing off a couple of Cross's canon events from the last timeline of xtale like things xGaster did and said to him and Nightmare gripping his mug so hard you can almost see his bones through the goop

[untimelyambition]

curt and kim being dance partners in all the scenes at the castle is something that is so special to me

[toringo]

Owen needs more whimsy and silliness

[kairithemang0]

Owen wasn’t the only thing that gave Curt joy, but he was the one to give Curt the ability to feel joy at all

[ninoochat]

when curt got up to beat that guy's ass and was saying to buck "please i got this ill owe you one, i got this" how sexy is that?? like he doesn't even know if the other guy is decent or not but he just knows he's gonna put him to sleep. it's like speaking to some primal part of my brain like this guy can protect me and it's HOT AS FUCK

[noxx-33i]

Sword doodles... i loev.. himb...

[meyerlansky]

it is Sad About CurtBucky Sunday apparently

[uhhhitsme]

ok so i completely scrapped what i was writing for this and wrote this in the span of 1 hour lol anyway i finally have that drabble for you :] i don't like how it came out, but i've tried writing this too many times and just sort of gave up lol :P hope u enjoy :]

(the prompt was "it could be worse" and curtwen i believe :])

"it could be worse."

"correct dear, you could be dead."

after a mission where just about everything that could, when horribly, horribly wrong. The pair were being moved to a nearby safe house while their agencies figured out where to go from here.

they had ended up miscalculated just how many people were in the facility during their prior stake out. leaving them wholly unprepared during the mission. The pair of spies were left effectively cornered by enemy guards as they went to leave with the files gathered moments earlier. Fortunately they were able to escape, not without sustaining a few injuries. it wasn't their finest moment, but it could've gone worse all things considered.

Well, most things could've gone worse.

“c’mon owen, why- why’re you so upset abou’is anyway?”

Curt is still standing stubbornly upright even as he fumbles with the hotel key. How he’s even conscious, let alone lucid is perhaps more of a mystery then why Curt somehow has the gall to whine about Owen not entertaining his piss poor attempts at convention.

if he were in mood owen would have probably already made multiple references to shakespeare’s julius caesar, perhaps even a mournful monologue about how he knew that curt’s life would have ended today as his body lays a bloody fountain. of how he had dreamt of it the night before but had swallowed his worries for his partner’s sake. Unfortunately Owen was not in the mood for their normal post mission chitchat; even if that meant passing up the opportunity for poorly concealed literary references.

“it's ot’even the worst mission we've been on, heh, wait owen you remember bac’in- fuck, dropped the key.”

“just hand me the key curt, we don't have all day.”

Despite Owen's explicit request, Curt stayed positioned in front of the door, trying to get the now blood-slicked key into the slot. At this rate Curt could very well be dead before he even got it in the keyhole.

Why had he even gotten shot as much as he did? Owen barely had a single bullet nick him yet Curt seems to be sporting three bullet holes. two with exit holes, one without. the one without an exit hole far too close to the heart for Owen's liking.

Curt eventually gets the door unlocked, signaled by a quiet “ah ha!”. He pushes the door open, and gives Owen a smile that's way too cocky for someone who just spent 7 minutes trying to open a door. once inside their crappy hotel room, well not crappy per say, it is marginally nicer than most of the rooms they've been given, this one has a actually functioning shower, so that was something. owen goes to grab what he needs to care for curt's gapping bullet wounds.

“Curt, love, go lay on the bed would you?”

“Mmhm, ‘ine.”

Curt slumps down on the nearest of the two beds, and it immediately becomes more apparent how well he’s faring, which to put it lightly, is not well. He’s shaking rather violently, his head is tipped back and his eyes are screwed shut either in an attempt to block out the pain, or to avoid seeing the blood thats currently escaping his body.

“ow’n what's takin’ so lon’? you're the one who wan’ed to take that bull’t out of me any’ay.”

that was not a good sign, curt doesn't even slur his words that much when he's completely shitfaced. in more of a panic than he'd like to admit, owen grabs the medical bag, which was thankfully left out on the table. bringing to back to where curt is he beings layout what he'll need. bandages, tweezers, a pre sterilized suture kit, and curt's flask of whiskey.

“shirt off old boy, need to see the damage.”

with a grunt curt manages to shrug his jacket, and after a hard fought battle against his undershirt, sheds that as well. leaving him in only his pants, which lucky for owen's sake, aren't hiding any injuries outside of a few scratches.

taking some of the gauze and wetting it with the whiskey, owen begins to clean of the surrounding of the wound; being gentle with the already agitated skin.

“hhrrggg.”

“mmhm, i know love, it'll just be a second. can't have you getting an infection now can we?”

after the three spots of interest are deemed cleaned enough for owen's liking, he sets the last bit of gauze aside and goes to grab the tweezers. giving no warning, he plunges the them into hole in curt's arm, pulling a high pitched cry from his mouth. owen may be playing nurse for curt right now because he cares about the man, but that doesn't mean he still isn't livid about curt taking unnecessary injuries for no reason.

“oh, sorry darling, did that hurt?”

his voice is dripping with faux sympathy, and even in curt's state he's picked up on that.

“ ‘top being a dick ow’n, m’ sorry about gettin’ ‘urt ok?”

“how about you stop looking like you're someone’s target practice?”

owen discards the bullet and the tweezers beside him, he clean it up later. next his hands move to the suture kit. grabbing the pre threaded needle he begins stitching up curt’s skin.

“why are ‘ou even so worked up about this? you ‘id’nt want’a talk ‘o me.”

“i just don't understand why we always end up here.”

“en’up where?”

owen doesn't respond

“o?”

“stitchs are done.”

surely curt has to understand what he's getting at by now? grabbing a roll of bandages, he begins slowly wrapping around curt's bicep. his sharp, clipped tone moments ago in juxtaposition to the way he delicately holds his arm in place; all the while carefully covering the newly stitched injury on his arm.

“ wait no ow’n wha’ did you mean by ‘at?”

“we always end up like this curt, because you can never seem to not get your ass used as a training dummy it seems-”

“i said i was ‘orry-”

“that's not enough curt! jesus christ- you're always running into danger without thinking,it's getting to the point where i'm starting to wonder if you're trying to get yourself killed!

“i- ow’n.”

letting out a shaky breath owen stand up and begins to put everything away moving back to his suitcase.

“your bandages are done.”

“please owen-”

“tell me why.”

“....what?”

owen turns around to face him.

“tell me why it's seems like you have a death wish curt.”

curt stares at him wide eyed for a few seconds

“i don't ‘ave a death wish.”

a sardonic chuckle worms it way out of owen's throat

“really? i'm hard pressed to believe that.”

“i don't, really!”

they stare at each other for a few painful moments before owen turns around. they prepare for the move to the safe house in complete, awkward silence. leaving owen's mind to wander. normally in the silence left between them he’ll go to ideas about what a life with curt would be like, sweet, silly fantasies that would never see the light of day.

however, in this particular instance he keeps being drawn to infinite different ways the two of them could die. trying to push the thoughts aside owen sighs, closes his eyes, and lays himself on the bed he claimed the day prior. soon after he hears the creek of the adjacent mattress as curt sits himself on the side of it.

before being able to slip into what he hopes is a dreamless sleep, he’s dragged back to reality by curt mumbling something.

“what was that love? speak up would you?”

“i do it to protect you”

owen sits up at that

“im sorry?”

“i do it to protect you, i mean, i throw myself into danger to protect you.”

“you don't have to protect me”

“but i do, i do. i need to, i wouldn't know what to do with myself if you died”

well if that isn't a confession that shakes owen, not really knowing where go go from there, and being admittedly way too tired from the day to think reasonably, decides that now’s as good a time as any to make a stupid, idiotic, possibly life-ruining decision.

crossing over to curt's bed owen sits down next to him. curt, too busy messing with the sheets, doesn't notice owen until he grabs his hand in his own

curt turned and with him looking up at owen with poorly concealed hope, he decides that, fuck it, i guess he's actually doing this.

“i wouldn't know what to do with myself either”

“well- how about we just stick with each other then?”

“you know that it wouldn't be easy."

“but?”

“it could be worse”

“a lot of things could be worse doll”

“i have to agree with you there”

<3

[heirscrchd]

lok azula realizing shes becoming the iroh equivalent for her brother's granddaughter... imagine that happening l o l

oh dear anon :)

you've figured out my grand plan

[datastate]

scratching at the walls. i need to volunteer at the library but one of the librarians scares me...

[kakusboyfriend]

Do you have any websites to recommend for marvel comics.

I need. Scarlet Spider.

So I was made aware of reading guides a couple months back and those are a huge help!

This is literally just the first result I fetched, but there's tons of lists like this that help you pick up on a character you like more easily :-) comics are such a huge nightmare I hope you find something that works for you

[haveihitanerve]

please feel free to explain any of the above choices

[killjoy-prince]

Was replaying her normal end before I got her good end later today and I still love the fact that they fight over me here

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: 'Intense Desire' ༄࿔ L.F.

⤷ Sex Pills | Overstimulation | Squirting

♱ word count: 2.9k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, sex pills usage (felix accidentally taking them), mention of a handjob in a car, he gets “mean” for like a split second, unprotected p in v, rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampies, squirting, if u quint theres 1 sentence of angst at the end, i might be forgetting something

♱ notes: sorry this was delayed! I made it a little longer than the others in hopes that it would make up for the tardiness <3 also 1 the beginning might feel rushed (it was) and 2 sex pills dont completely work like this?? But its fiction so.. pls bare with me im so stressed out LMFAO

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

The pounding in Felix’s head was just enough to distract him from the colorful clothes around the two of you. The initially exciting shopping trip to the mall with your boyfriend had quickly slowed down thanks to the headache he developed out of the blue. Your comforting words and warm hands on his face only helped so much, and he felt horrible for his body refusing to let him enjoy your date.

It wasn’t until you reminded him of the medicines he had packed away in his bag that he let up on his pouting Then, with the familiar feeling of the plastic of a pill bottle on his fingers and a gentle reminder from you that this should be fun for the both of you, Felix finds himself leading you to the food court. He quickly buys a bottle of water and chugs down 3 pills. It’s over the dosage of 2 he normally would take, but he’s desperate to have a good time with you.

Not long after, he’s back to his normal self and the thumping pain in his head is long gone. Wide smiles and crescent eyes watch you pick out interesting clothes, some even meant to match with him. Everything is back to normal!

That is until 30 minutes after the fact when he’s patiently sitting outside of your changing room waiting for you to try on the next outfit. He starts to feel a new, less painful ache. One between his legs that he’s all too familiar with.

Literal lines of sweat are dripping down his forehead and his neck when you open the curtain to present the outfit you picked out. He forces a smile and has to tear his eyes away from the tight pants to give his opinion. A curt, breathy, “Beautiful.”

The sweat immediately catches your attention and obviously raises concerns from the way your eyebrows furrow. He notices right away and tries not to let it worry you, shooing you away and encouraging you to try on the last pieces of fabric that await you in the changing room.

The second the curtains close behind you he racks his brain for possible reasons as to why a sudden, strong feeling of horniness took over his body. It’s even to the point where his whole body tingles from the ceiling fans above him. The slow gusts of wind make his cock ache in his jeans and goosebumps litter his arms.

He doesn’t think he’s ever gotten this horny in his life. Even the time when you managed to rile him up to the point where he almost came in his jeans when you brushed past him he had never felt this way. He swore he could feel his veins burning as he looked through his bag for his phone, praying that Google would explain everything.

But he doesn’t get far enough to grab his phone, because the realization hits him like a tsunami wave. The pills. He realizes too late that he never checked which medicine he took. And sure enough, when he checked his bag, the tiny plastic bottle he had a hold on earlier wasn’t his Ibuprofen.

Instead, it was a blue pill bottle that he kept for special medicines that he would occasionally get prescribed. This time around, it was the brand new, not prescribed pills he had put to the side for… intimacy reasons.

It was embarrassing at first for him. A young, attractive man in his 20s struggling with his sex life. All thanks to the wear and tear from work stress: the unforgiving cycle of working too much and being overwhelmed, then taking a break and working too little just to fall behind.

You understood! It’s understandable to not be able to get hard when there’s a never ending dread that has made home in the back of your mind. And it was clearly obvious that he is attracted to you, every other time the two of you were intimate is enough evidence for that.

So you offered him an idea that might help! That idea being “horny” pills. It took some convincing and consistent reassurance for him to cave and agree. Which led to that little blue bottle of little red pills that made his not-so-little friend crave your attention.

“Lixie?” Your voice snaps him out of his daydreaming and his head snaps up to see your head poking out of the curtain. Your giggle goes straight to his dick and he has to force a smile to get through the ache. “I need your help with this dress. I can’t get the zipper up.”

You don’t need to ask twice, especially when the promise of getting to see your bare skin is on the table. He’s joining you in the blink of an eye, using his clammy, shaky hands to zip up the dress the rest of the way. Your body flushes at the way he licks his lips as he looks you up and down multiple times.

“Do you like it?” His eyes snap up to yours in the mirror and he nods. It’s pretty obvious to you what’s going on in his head at this point, minus the reason for it, so you rip the dress off and rush to the cashier as fast as you can.

Felix is on your tail the whole time. A hand on your hip and his chest pressed to your back as he shoves his credit card into the card reader. Then again when the two of you get to the car, this time both of his hands on your hips and his face shoved into your neck.

“Need you so fucking bad.” His hard-on is even more obvious now as he grinds it against your thigh, groaning and whining into your neck about how good it feels. You struggle to get the car keys out of his pocket when his hands are all over you, making you feel good when they aren’t even doing much.

“Felix… Not here.” The two of you drabbled in public sex before so it wasn’t a new experience for either of you. But it had been a while since the two of you were intimate so you really didn’t want it to be in the dirty car garage of a mall. In the middle of the day, mind you.

“I need something. Baby, please. I-I can’t do this.” The desperation in his voice is enough to make your neck whip around, almost knocking into his as you look back at him with confusion. He knows you all too well and the answer to your unspoken question is already on the tip of his tongue.

“I accidentally took those sex pills instead of pain meds.” He doesn’t bother explaining further; he doesn’t care anymore. The only thing that’s on his mind is getting you into the car so he can get some sort of stimulation on his poor, achy cock.

You're lucky to even have gotten his hands off of you after that, let alone getting him in the passenger seat and buckled in without him launching at you. However you’re even less lucky as you drive him home, one hand on the wheel and the other- well, on his dick.

You could hear the wetness of him jerking himself off before you saw it. He was keen to get your help though. His eyes were teary and his voice came out a distressed whine as he pleaded for you to help, complaining that his hand wasn’t comparable to how good your hand would feel.

The windows on your shared car are as tinted as legally possible, so you quickly cave and slide your hand toward him. Now 5 minutes away from the house, you quicken your hands in hopes that he’ll cum this soon. But luck isn’t on either of your sides today and the car’s already in park before he’s even close to cumming.

You don’t make it past the entryway before Felix is shoving you forward, pinning you to the wall, and pulling your bottoms to your knees. The sight of your panties all messy and your pussy lips equally as messy from your excitement is enough to make him feral.

“You’re so good to me, Honey. Always so obedient and keeping my pussy ready for me when I most need it. I’m going to give you the world and more.” He doesn’t wait for you to make a comment before he’s pushing your underwear to join your bottoms.

One hand rests on the wall by your face and the other pushes against your lower back, arching your back at the same time that he pushes his cock in. Your walls are warm and wet as they take every last inch of him in, almost as if two puzzle pieces were finally placed together.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and he sucks on your neck, whispering incoherent mumbles until he’s bottomed out. He only stops then to take deep breaths and calm his own body down. Now that he’s finally inside of you, the effects of the pills feel a million times stronger.

He genuinely feels like a dog in heat, hips still rutting into yours even as his mind tells his body to relax. It doesn’t listen in the slightest and after a short pause his hips are finding a rigorous rhythm. 

Felix is a man possessed behind you; nails digging into your skin leaving bruises to come and hips moving with more force than you thought he could give. It’s hard to think he’s not possessed with his filthy mouth, something he’s always been good at but it hits differently when he’s rock hard inside of you and eager to feel every inch of your body all at once.

You start to feel like the pills are affecting you. Your own body reacts to his fervent movements with warm clenches and moans that spur him on. You feel so sensitive and your orgasm sneaks up on you, causing you to wiggle in his hold. The shuffle of your limbs makes him lose his angle and you both whine.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. Stop. You gotta stay arched, baby. Yeah, just like that. Ffuck…” The hand on your back pushes you forward, completely squishing you against the wall as he tries to arch you back to how you previously were. He knows that he did it right when you start to flutter around him again and your moans ascend a few pitches.

With the other hand using all of his fingers to rub your clit back and forth, he pushes you over the edge. You clench around him as you moan into the wall, your arms shaking as you try to hold yourself up against it. He growls against your ear and bites down on it as he continues fucking you through your high.

He doesn’t stop after you’re done. If anything it only encourages him, the ache in his veins telling him that he needs to keep going and make you feel even better. And so he does, with one hand still furiously rubbing your clit back and forth while the other now moves to your waist and holds up your slouching form.

It just squeezes you appreciatively, almost even possessively as he holds you in place when you start to flail. It doesn’t become mean until in the midst of your thrashing, you move yourself just slightly to the point where he loses his angle again. He pushes his hand roughly against you and arches your back himself again, this time with a disgruntled snap. 

“Stop fucking doing that.” He’s huffing into your ear as his hips pick up pace, going even faster than he was before. “Be good or else I’ll bend you over with nothing to lean on.” But it’s hard to control your body when painful pleasure is swimming through your body. Even more so when you feel another orgasm lurking.

“B-Baby, fuck! Give me a sec, you’re-” You cut yourself off with a shriek as the hand on your waist moves to tangle itself in your hair. It uses the grip to pull you back up to rest your back flat against his chest. His other hand finally falters at this point, instead of rubbing your clit it sinks into your thigh.

“I’m what, Honey. Tearing up your guts?” He laughs out a sound of agreement that turns into a guttural groan as his blinding thrusts finally let up. A few sharp thrusts and a series of moans fall from his lips as he empties himself out inside of you. It feels like gallons of his seed are filling your stomach, and the feeling of it leaking out onto your inner thighs is enough to make you believe that’s the case.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands there with his forehead against your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your torso, mind reeling as he comes down from such an intense high.

“Baby. You didn’t cum with me at the end, did you?” He’s more upset that he faltered that badly, but the twitch of his cock lets you both know that he’s not close to being done regardless. The question is a real testament to your faith. Lie to him and maybe bribe him to let you take a break, or tell the truth and deal with the consequences. Though, it doesn’t seem like he was asking.

He pulls out and moves his hand to the small of your back. Neither of you even spared a glance at your bottoms as you’re dragged to the living room and shoved into the couch. It knocks the breath from your lungs momentarily, and it’s all the time he needs to bend you to his will. Your shoulders sink into the bottom cushions and your legs are hovering just above you as he shoves his cock inside of you again. 

The breath is almost knocked from you again as he finds a new, rougher pace to follow. This one isn’t nearly as fast but the new angle, thanks to your ankles being by his ears, sends him right where he wants to be. His previous load froths along his length as he fucks into you like your lives are on the line. 

Your hands find home on his biceps and your nails leave deep crescent shapes along his skin as you desperately try to find something to ground yourself with. The new vigor he fucks you with makes it so that your next orgasm builds up within a minute or two. The feral stare from his lidded eyes only makes your stomach squeeze as you realize that he really has no plans to stop, even if he really wants to. 

“Felix, baby, s-slow down. It feels w-weird.” You push against his stomach in hopes that it will slow him down, but it doesn’t. He stays quiet and only responds by grabbing your wrist and shoving it into the cushion by your head; a wordless command for ‘Hands off.’ You look up just in time to see his gaze grow more intense.

He even leans forward, both of his hands moving to your thighs to fold them into your chest. His hips pick up speed once he has you folded to his liking and you find that strange feeling growing stronger. You get a glimpse of him licking his pink lips that then perk up into a menacing smile and then the feeling grows too strong, forcing your eyes closed and your legs to combat his hold.

Your body can only shake as you gush around him and he curses under his breath at the sight. Your cunt spams around him and you squirt through his merciless fucking. The wet, squelching noises combat the volume of your cries to the point where he periodically goes out of his way to thrust into you even rougher just to hear it more.

“You hear her talking to me? Fucking shit- She really liked that, huh baby?” He laughs in disbelief and slams into you repeatedly, chasing his own sudden orgasm from watching you cum so intensely.

“That was so fucking hot, Baby.” The whine in his voice doesn’t match the cocky look on his face, but you can’t be bothered to comment about it as he finishes inside of you all of a sudden. Your sensitive walls constrict around him yet again and he cums deep inside, riding his own orgasm out to the sound of your overwhelmed sobs.

His chest heaves as he catches his breath and he takes the moment to glance at a clock on the wall. It’s been a few hours since he took the pills so they should be going down soon. He can already feel his brain going back to normal, and his thoughts are clearing up as the two of you sit there unmoving.

“You… Are you ok, Honey?” Your sniffles are enough to make his heart drop into his ass, but when you look up at him the anxiety leaves his body. You smile at him through the tears and laugh as best as you can while still breathless.

“Holy shit, Felix.” He matches your chuckle and leans forward, slotting your legs on either side of his waist as he repeatedly pushes his lips against your cheek. “I’m… great. But you owe me for fucking me within an inch of my life like that with no warning.”

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