#the fluffiest of smut
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I'll Fall For You If...
“Tinder!?”
For the last hour or so Anakin and Ahsoka had been watching the man nurse his drink, fidgeting with his phone like he had a secret — picking it up, taping the screen once, twice, until whatever displayed there became too much, placing it back down on the bar with a clack — wondering what he could possibly be hiding.
-or- Bartender Anakin helps barfly Obi-Wan build the perfect dating profile... maybe a little too perfect
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Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)
Chap. 4: Lost In Moonlight
Chp. 4 Summary: You couldn't deny Joel any longer. You needed him. Rating: Explicit 18+ MDNI Word Count: 7.8k Warnings: SMUT (finally), unprotected piv sex, nipple play, cock riding, cum eating, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl), aftercare, heavy kissing, mentions of past emotional abuse, soft!joel, so much FLUFF!!! A/N: I know this is what y'all have been waiting for, so I hope I did this moment justice :') I'm putting together a lil playlist for this fic, so please lmk if you're interested in seeing it! xoxo <3
Masterlist | Ko-Fi
Flower petals were strewn across the entryway as you and Joel staggered through the dark house. You couldn’t find the time—or care—to flick on the lights, too busy finding Joel’s mouth in the darkness. His hands caressed every curve of your body, fingers reaching under the seam of your sweatshirt to press against your warm skin. You tried blindly guiding him toward your room, only to awkwardly bump into corners and walls in the search, leaving you giggling and Joel cursing. You were nearly at the door when he stopped short, pinning you to the wall of the hallway so that he could devour your mouth once more. Helpless moans left your lips as he coaxed your mouth open wider, his hands roaming down your lower back. You pressed yourself closer to his chest, the outline of his hardened cock rubbing against your upper thigh. Joel pulled away from your mouth, his breath ragged as he palmed your ass with his large hands.
“I don’t want you regrettin’ this in the mornin’ if it’s not what you want,” he panted.
“Don’t try and tell me what I want, Joel,” you whispered, kissing down the base of his neck.
He let out a shaky breath, his hands squeezing you harder. By the night's end, not a single inch of you would be left untouched. You raised your mouth to his ear, grazing over the shell of it with the tip of your tongue.
“I’m sick of pretending like I don’t want you.”
“You’re killin’ me, baby,” he groaned.
You searched for his hand through the blanket of darkness around you, guiding him to your bedroom. You counted the steps in your head until the back of your knees hit the mattress, and you were falling back. Joel tumbled over you, one knee propped up beside your waist while his other leg was wedged between your thighs. His hands pulled at the hem of your sweatshirt, tugging it up your body until you took control and stripped it off in one fluid motion. It barely hit the ground before his hands were all over you, the touch of his skin on yours electrifying you beyond words. Every touch was soft…so fucking soft. It was dizzying to be handled so gently and with such determined intensity. Where you struggled for words, Joel responded with another caress, another kiss, another praise of adoration.
The pads of his fingers began tracing down your sternum, working at the material of your bra.
“Can I?” he asked, reaching behind your back.
“Yes,” you exhaled.
His fingers made easy work of the clasp, freeing you of your bra in record time. Even if you were drenched in shadows, you knew Joel’s eyes were washing over your body with rapt attention.
“Jesus Christ, you’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he muttered as he leaned back over you.
His mouth was hot against your collarbone as he worked his way down your chest. Peppered kisses trailed over the swell of your breasts, and you arched into his gentle touch as he swirled his tongue around your hardened nipples. His tongue flicked at the sensitive skin, forcing a breathy whine to escape your lips. Joel’s teeth grazed over the soft skin of your breast before dipping his head lower and scattering your navel with soft kisses.
“Joel,” you whimpered, carding your hands through his hair.
A thin sheen of sweat hung on the curls, forcing them to stick against his temples and forehead. You raked your nails over his scalp, earning a deep groan that rumbled through his chest. He pulled himself up so that he stood over you, and as your vision adjusted to the darkness, you watched as his hands worked at tugging his shirt over his neck and shoulders. Fuck, you wished the lights were on so you could catalog every part of his body. You sat up on the bed, craning your neck back as you traced your fingers over the soft skin of his stomach and up his chest. The hair spattering his chest tickled your fingertips as you crept higher, your hands caressing the thick muscles on his shoulders. Joel’s hands reached to cover yours, halting your blind exploration of his body.
“We should stop,” he said, strained.
You cringed as he said those three words, letting your hands drop and wrap around your bare chest. You knew it was too good to be true; he didn’t want you. Even if every atom of his being called out to yours, like some prayer for divinity, he wanted to stop.
“I—I understand,” you hesitated.
You didn’t know where to go, with him still looming over you, so you shuffled your body up the bed, trying to find the edge of your comforter so you could bury yourself in the deepest part of your mattress and disappear entirely. Joel’s hand shot out to grab your ankle, tugging you back to the edge of the bed, and you raised yourself on your forearms, staring at him confused.
“We should stop,” he started. “Because I don’t have a condom.”
“I haven’t been with anyone in two years,” you confessed, adding, “I’m on birth control, too.”
“Are y’sure?”
You hooked a leg around his waist, tugging him closer until he was falling forward and caging you between his arms. You craned your head to capture his lips in a hungry kiss, holding him firm against you.
“I want this, Joel. I’m sure.”
That was all Joel needed to hear before he lost all semblance of control. His restraint was replaced with this frantic urgency as his fingers worked at the button and zipper of your jeans, yanking them down your thighs and leaving you exposed to the cool air circling your room. His pants were shed less than a minute later, and now you were both only separated by thin pieces of fabric that covered your lower halves. The press of Joel’s hardened cock against your thigh ignited a fire within your stomach, and your underwear dampened through at the thought of what he could do with it. Having sex with Bennett always felt like an obligation—a chore. But with Joel, you craved it beyond understanding. You needed to put emotions into action and feel how he thought about you. Every ounce of your resolve and control were far gone now, left somewhere between the front door and the bed beneath you. The second Joel had kissed you, you knew you’d never say ‘no’ to him again. He was a weakness you couldn’t control, and you were so tired of trying to keep him at a distance.
Joel’s hands worked at your underwear, and you let out a giggle when he tossed them carelessly across the room along with his own. Your heart pounded in your chest as he lifted your leg by the back of your knee, propping it over his broad shoulder. He angled the head of his cock against your slick entrance, coating it in your wetness before pushing in slowly. Your head fell back against the bed as he broke you open inch by inch. The agonizing stretch to adjust to him faded away, and you both moaned in unison as he bottomed out, filling you completely.
“S’fuckin’ tight, baby,” Joel cursed. “Feels fuckin’ amazing.”
He started moving, his hips rocking against you at a tender pace as you squirmed under his body. Each thrust amplified the coiling warmth, creating an unbearable furnace inside you. You needed more; you needed to feel everything and forget every lingering emotion crawling through your mind.
“Harder,” you begged.
“Yeah?” Joel panted, driving into you with such force your body shoved up the bed. “Like that, baby?”
Your only response was a vigorous nod of your head and an outward cry as he plunged deeper with each snap of his hips. Sounds of your bodies slapping together, your endless cries of pleasure, and his ragged breath became a cacophony floating through the air around you.
A car drove past your house, the headlights streaming through the blinds, drenching Joel’s silhouette for a fleeting moment. At that moment, you could see the flex of his arms, the pinch of his brows, and the slight tug of his lips upwards as he continued wrecking into you. Rewashed in darkness, you ached to see how his pupils blew wide as he gazed down on you.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” Joel muttered, squeezing your hips to anchor you against his body. Perfect. There was that word again, sounding so simple when he said it like it wasn’t a lie. Like he meant it. And every action he showed you proved he not only meant it but believed it.
You chased the warmth that unfurled through your muscles, the pleasure building higher and higher until you could barely contain it. Joel must have felt it, too, because as your eyes scrunched tight, Joel’s fingers found the sensitive bud at the apex of your sex and drew long, tantalizing circles. That touch was all you needed to come undone completely; your body was paralyzed as the orgasm wracked through you with such intensity you lost all breath inside your lungs.
“Good fuckin’ girl,” Joel hummed. “Let go, baby. Gimmie more.”
Bennett had never spoken to you this way, nor did he praise you when you came—which was rare with him. He barely did anything but grunt once in a while, but this? Hearing Joel talk you through every thrust, every ripple of your orgasm, only spurred you on more. You clung onto every word he spoke, like a moth to the flame, and his mouth was a forest fire.
Joel bent forward, wrapping a strong arm around your back and hauling you over until you were perched on top of him. From this angle, his cock felt so much bigger, stretching you wider until your thighs ached. He sprawled back against the comforter; his hands splayed against your hips to guide you in fluid motions above him.
“Joel…” you exhaled, grinding your hips down against him.
“Talk to me, baby. Tell me what you need,” he urged.
You lifted your hips, sinking back down onto him, finding the perfect rhythm that rendered you speechless. You couldn’t form words or think of anything else but his name.
“C’mon, baby. I know y’can use your words. I wanna hear you.”
“It’s just—.” You heaved in a breath as he rocked up into you. “You feel so fucking good, Joel. Your cock…”
“Keep talkin’,” he moaned.
Shuffling his knees up, Joel started pistoning into you hard, making it impossible to form coherent sentences. How were you to speak when his cock was driving into you so hard your vision was blurring? Joel gritted out your name, coaxing you from your chaotic thoughts.
“Never.” You gasped. “Been fucked this good.” Another gasp. “Need this all the time. Need—you. Fuck… Joel…”
“I got you, baby. Ain’t gonna let you go.”
You whispered his name like a cantation, each syllable a broken prayer leaving your lips. Another orgasm throbbed inside your core, and you snaked your hand to rub circles against your swollen clit, trying to alleviate that growing ache throbbing in your veins. Joel’s pace was unrelenting as you toppled closer to the edge, a cry escaping your mouth as you felt your body seize up. The clench of your sex around his cock was enough to force him to the edge, too, and as you hit your climax, his release exploded inside you, with your name falling off his tongue.
Joel lifted himself, molding your bodies together in his firm grip, your lips crushing together as he swallowed the tiny sounds still finding their way up your throat. Your hands clasped around the sides of his neck, keeping his mouth locked with yours until you felt his cock soften inside you. With a roll of his hips, Joel had you pinned to the mattress once more, his cock slipping free as he worked his mouth down your body. You tensed as his mouth grew closer to your navel, embarrassment forcing your spine to stiffen.
“Joel,” you cautioned. “You—you don’t have to do that.”
His nose brushed over your stomach, his hands working in tandem to pry your legs apart. With a dip of his head, he placed a gentle kiss on each thigh, humming in satisfaction.
“Y’want me to stop, baby?” He asked, his warm mouth hovering over your sensitive clit.
“I just—.” You were flustered. “I’ve never had someone…”
His fingers flexed and tightened around the supple skin of your hips, and you could see his dark eyes peering up at you with confusion as his brows knit together.
“Don’t you dare tell me you ain’t ever had a man eat your pussy,” he warned.
You bit your lip and gave him a single nod of your head. Bennett never went down on you, always making some sort of excuse. “You wouldn’t like it.” “I’m too tired, honey.” “Maybe next time.” He never offered, and eventually, you gave up asking. You could hardly count any guy before him since most had been careless hookups and one-night stands—most of them leaving you to chase your orgasm after they left. You couldn’t even count on two hands the times Bennett actually made you cum, and now Joel was setting himself up to do it again…for the third time.
“I’m sorry,” you muttered, covering your face to hide the shame that burned under your cheeks.
“Baby, don’t do that,” Joel pleaded. “S’nothin’ to be sorry for, okay?”
“But you just…” You could feel his cum leaking out of you, still. Was he seriously considering this right now?
“I don’t care. I wanna taste us together, baby. Let me show you how good it can feel.”
You inhaled sharply, only responding with another tilt of your head. Joel’s mouth hovered over your slick entrance, his eyes still trained on you.
“Gimmie words, baby,” he said. “I need to hear you say ‘yes’.”
“Yes, Joel,” you whispered.
“Y’want my tongue?”
When you didn’t respond, he teased you with a sharp flick of his tongue against your clit, forcing a cry to erupt from your mouth. Joel groaned at your responsiveness to his touch, awarding you with a thick swipe of his tongue over your slick entrance. He worked at you like he was a dying man, and you were the last drop of water in an empty desert, lapping at every drop of cum dripping down your sex. You glanced at him, meeting his piercing stare between your legs. Rough fingers massaged your sore thighs while his tongue dove into you with such desperation you couldn’t tell if he was pleasuring you or if you were pleasuring him. Euphoria sparked in your veins, overwhelming you to the point of tears. Snaking a hand under your thigh, Joel worked two thick fingers inside you, prying you open and coaxing a sob from your throat.
“Right there, oh my god. Joel, don’t stop,” you choked, gasping for air.
His fingers and tongue worked at you in tandem, the orgasm surging inside you becoming all-consuming. It thrashed inside your veins and tore through you forcefully and without warning. You slumped against the comforter as your soul floated above your body. Was delirium a real thing? Because if it was, this was the precipice of madness. Joel swept a soft kiss over your aching clit before crawling on top of you again. Tangling his hand in the hair at the base of your neck, he brought his wet lips to yours until your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside.
“Taste yourself, baby,” Joel moaned into your open mouth. “Don’t we taste so fuckin’ good?”
“Mhmm,” you whimpered.
Joel kissed you fervently; each stroke of his tongue against yours was purposeful and searing, a blistering admission of devotion and admiration. You still felt undeserving of it all: his patience, tenderness, and kindness… but maybe this was a start. Maybe he was worth letting it.
As the kisses slowed and your bodies begged to be unstuck from one another, you found a stream of tears rolling down your cheeks. Fuck. The euphoria you had been sucked into was fading into the distance, and you were overly aware of the emotions crashing at the surface. Your voice was hoarse as you mumbled his name, breaking away from his embrace.
“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, turning your head into the pillows.
Joel hushed your cries, dragging his thumb over your cheek to collect your tears.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”
“No, no,” you said, voice muffled. “I’m okay. Everything was great.”
“Then why’re you cryin’?”
You turned your head back to face him, catching the furrow of his brows through bleary eyes.
“It’s stupid,” you muttered.
“Talk to me, please.”
You curled into his arms, burrowing your head into the crook of his neck. The smell of sex and sweat wafted off of him, mixing with the lingering warm cologne wafting off his skin. You never wanted to leave this moment. You never wanted to be untangled from his limbs. It was a terrifying realization; this was something you wanted.
“You’re just—not what I expected.” It came out as a mixture of a laugh and cry, leaving you gasping for breath. “I haven’t been the easiest person to get to know, and I haven’t been the kindest, but you… you haven’t left. I don’t understand why you haven’t left.”
“Hey, hey… oh, baby,” Joel crooned. “Look at me.”
Joel’s fingers slid under your chin, fighting against your reluctance as you met his shadowed gaze. In the sunlight, you could see the unmistakable flecks of amber and gold swirling in his eyes, but in the darkness, they were nearly black—but just as soft and ardent.
“I’m not goin’ anywhere, okay? There ain’t a single thing that’s gonna change my mind about you. I know you’re worried about all this stuff happenin’ between us, but we can take things as slow as you want, baby. You call the shots from now on, and whatever you wanna do, I’ll be here,” he said.
“I’m not worth—.”
“Don’t,” he interrupted. “You are worth it. I’ll spend every day provin’ it if that’s what it takes.”
You didn’t know what to say when all you could cling to were the lingering memories of Bennett and the words he had once said. Yes, you loved him at one point, but there were so many reasons to hate him. The constant fights, the constant feeling of never being enough, the constant silence. The silence. Bennett’s silence was a weapon he used to pacify you. You learned over time that speaking up and communicating your feelings was unimportant to Bennett; if anything, it was an opportunity to minimize your voice and keep you docile. You became the smallest version of yourself in his shadow, clawing for scraps of his attention to try and keep the relationship afloat. You tried so hard to keep him happy until it came at the cost of losing yourself entirely. You didn’t recognize yourself anymore.
“What can I do right now?” Joel asked, his voice swimming upstream against the thoughts that drowned you. “D’you wanna take a shower and sleep? Sarah’s at a sleepover tonight, so I ain’t got nowhere to be but here with you.”
You exhaled a heavy sigh, nodding your head at his offer. Joel unwound his limbs from yours, pulling you to your aching legs and letting you take the lead toward your ensuite. With a shaky hand, you flicked on the lights, your eyes squinting to adjust to the harshness of color that washed over the room. A quick look in the mirror told you everything you needed to know; you were thoroughly fucked and completely strung out. Your hair was a tangled mess hanging over your shoulders, your lips fuller and swollen from kissing, yet your eyes were hollow and glossy. Joel’s tall frame came into view behind you, his tanned arms snaking around your middle and tugging you back against his chest. Through the mirrored reflection, he held your gaze with an unwavering kindness that tore through every self-deprecating voice in your head. With his hand splayed over the expanse of your stomach, Joel dipped his head lower, his mouth hot against your ear.
“Look how beautiful y’are, baby,” he praised.
“Joel,” you whimpered, clenching your thighs together to quell the slow ache pulsating inside you again.
You wanted so badly to see what he saw, but all you saw was the lingering handprints of the past plastered over your skin. The places Bennett had touched and kissed before, the echoed arguments that deafened your ears, every inch of you was left tainted. They say it takes the body seven years to replace its cells—seven years to be a new person from the inside out. You were hardly on the cusp of three years since Bennett last touched you, but you desperately wanted to be shed of every fiber that still clung to his memory. You couldn’t speed up the process; it was out of your control, but Joel touched you like he sought to do it himself. Inch by inch, your body would forget Bennett’s touch. It was your heart that needed to follow the same path.
Joel’s deep voice whispering your name roused you from your thoughts, and your eyes snapped up to meet his through the mirrored reflection. Everything fell away, and you lost yourself again in the simplicity of being in the moment with him.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he urged, his hand coming down to palm your ass before delivering a light slap.
You let out a startled laugh, forcing your legs to move and start up a warm shower. The second you both stepped under the blazing warmth of the spray, Joel had you pinned to the wall. You yelped at the startling cold of the tiles that pressed into your spine, but Joel’s hungry mouth swallowed every noise you made. Droplets of water fell off his damp curls, settling on your open mouth as he intertwined his tongue with yours.
“C’mere,” he whispered, tugging you back under the pelting rain of the showerhead.
You leaned your head back under the water, letting the water rush over your skin and drench your hair. Joel’s fingers twisted their way up the wet tendrils, gingerly massaging your scalp until a satisfied moan escaped your lips. He worked at lathering shampoo into your hair, scraping his nails across your scalp with each drag of his fingers.
“This feels nice,” you muttered, your voice lost in the downpour of water above you.
The resounding hum from Joel’s chest was all you heard as he washed your hair, his hands never leaving your body, even after the suds began to float down the drain. You lifted yourself on your toes to bring your mouth to his, not trusting yourself with words. For once in your life, you were speechless.
Time slipped away, and it wasn’t until you noticed your fingertips had pruned and the water ran cold that Joel finally tugged you out of the shower. You searched for two towels in your cabinets, watching as his hands worked the fabric over the low taper of his hips. Water droplets clung to the dark hair covering his chest, the muscles of his torso rising and falling with each breath. Your eyes wandered up to his face and settled on the natural upturn of his lips. You tried to fight the smile forming on your lips, but denying the emotions spreading through your body was practically impossible.
You were happy.
“I don’t like when you’re this quiet,” Joel chuckled softly. “I’m so used to you talkin’ or arguin’ with me.”
You blinked up at him, watching the crease form between his brows. It was the first time someone had an issue with you being quiet.
“I’m sorry,” you said. It was your default response to everything. You were sorry for talking too much; you were sorry for not talking enough… you were just sorry.
Joel’s hands came up to cup your face, leaving you with no choice but to look into his tired eyes.
“I hate that you always say that,” he confessed. “I’m gonna make sure y’learn not to always say 'sorry'.”
“You’re gonna teach the teacher?” You lifted a brow.
He chuckled and lifted his lips to press a gentle kiss against your forehead.
“There she is,” he muttered against your skin. “Now, c’mon. You tired me out, and I can’t sleep without hearin’ your voice.”
“Oh, really?” You teased, peering up at him.
“Yeah, really,” he smiled. “So, let’s get our asses in bed, and y’can talk my ear off ‘til we fall asleep.”
And that’s exactly what you did. Hidden under the sanctuary of your comforter and pulled tight against Joel’s chest, you talked until the hours grew late. You told him about your childhood and how you failed math in sixth grade. You told him about your rebellious teen years, divulging the horrendous stories of how you and Beth would sneak out to parties together. He asked about college, and you told him what you could without including Bennett in the story. Occasionally, he would chime in to ask another question, and the conversation would keep rolling, suspending you both in time as you remained wrapped up in one another's embrace. Every doubt had faded, but as your eyes drifted shut, you hoped your guard would start fading, too.
Morning sunlight streamed through the blinds that fluttered against your bedroom window, drenching the room in the warm colors of sunrise. You burrowed deeper into Joel’s body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat matching yours as he kept your back flush to his chest. His fingers flexed against your hips, tugging you closer—if that was even possible.
“Mornin’, baby,” Joel said, his voice gravelly from sleep.
“Good morning, Mr. Miller,” you yawned, shimming your body back against his, awarded with the hard press of his cock at the seam of your ass.
“Oh, don’t start with that shit again,” he groaned, rolling you onto your back.
A laugh bubbled out of you as he framed you between two large arms. Craning your neck, you met his tired eyes and saw the laugh lines creasing the corners. This was how Joel looked in the morning, happy. With his curls untamed and that lopsided grin, he looked happy…with you.
“I’m only teasing,” you laughed as his mouth worked its way down your neck.
“Fuckin’ better be,” he muttered in between each kiss. “I just got you sayin’ my name, so y’ better not take it back.”
“Oh, does me calling you Mr. Miller not turn you on?” You quipped.
“Trust me, baby, everything you do turns me on,” Joel growled.
“I don’t believe you.”
Joel’s mouth traveled down your chest, sucking marks into the skin of your breasts. You careened into his touch, moaning as his teeth grazed over a peaked nipple.
“When I saw you for that first time,” he started, his mouth still hot against your skin. “That fuckin’ dress you wore at the dance…I knew I was a goner. Looked so fuckin’ beautiful.”
“Yeah?” Your voice was ragged as he continued moving lower.
“I still think about how you teased me at the bar,” he said. “It drove me crazy, I swear.”
He had your legs spread open now, his nose pressed into your inner thigh. Arousal pooled between your legs, and you stole a glance at Joel’s eyes, connecting your slick entrance. Even though he fucked you sore last night, your body was addicted, so devastatingly responsive to every word he said.
“And when you yelled at me? Fuck, somethin’ about seeing you all riled up. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought ‘bout you with my hand around my cock. I can’t get enough of you, baby,” Joel whispered.
“You’ve thought about me like that?” You exhaled.
“Ain’t nothin’ professional ‘bout the way I think about you.”
“Keep talking, Joel,” you begged. You were drunk on his words, completely and utterly wasted on every admission he made.
“Thought ‘bout you spread out like this for me.” He flattened his tongue against your entrance, lapping at the juices leaking out of you. “Dreamt ‘bout how sweet you’d taste and how you’d look when you cum.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours, holding your focus as he repeated the motion with his tongue. “Y’taste better than I ever expected.”
“Fuck,” you groaned, your eyes rolling back.
Joel’s lips suctioned around your clit, his tongue flicking at the sensitive bud in a steady rhythm. You bucked against his mouth, chasing the orgasm that snaked its way through your stomach. He released you with a loud pop, his tongue tracing over your folds and dragging out the pleasure that swelled inside your core. He was teasing you, controlling your pleasure until it became tortuous. You cried out in frustration, bucking against his mouth, trying to find release.
“Be patient for me, baby,” Joel whispered, ghosting his tongue over your clit again.
“Please, Joel,” you begged. Your fingers twisted into the bedsheets, your nails digging into the fabric to keep you grounded.
Joel’s tongue teased your entrance, barely dipping into you—enough to make you curse under your breath. The longer he teased you, the stronger the need for release became. All you wanted was to fall apart, to feel the orgasm vibrate your nerves and relieve your heart from its erratic beating. You could hardly contain it any longer.
“I—I need…” You were blubbering nonsense, your thighs shaking around his head.
“I know what ya’ need, baby. Just a lil’ bit more.”
Then he was assaulting you with his tongue, drawing circles over your throbbing clit until every muscle in your body tensed and trembled. Your vision blurred as everything rushed to the surface, your thighs squeezing around Joel’s head as the pleasure liquified inside you. You screamed out his name as your orgasm crescendoed and crashed hard. You clawed at the bed, your body seizing up with the final aftershocks rocking through you.
“I could do this for hours,” Joel hummed, nudging your throbbing clit with the tip of his nose.
You squirmed under him, trying to shove yourself up the bed and away from him. You were overstimulated and exhausted, your body still recovering from last night… and this.
“What? Torture me?” You grumbled.
Joel chuckled, smirking at you. He rolled onto his back, keeping his arm wrapped around your thigh. His finger massaged circles into the sore muscles, another groan leaving your lips.
“Make you cum, baby,” Joel said. “Anythin’ you want, I’d do it.”
“How about you make me a coffee, Mr. Miller,” you sighed. “You’ve exhausted me.”
“And how do you like your coffee, Miss Smith?” He tossed back.
“Guess.”
Joel tilted his head back to look at you, his brown eyes glowing in the morning sun. He pursed his lips, studying you as he thought up an answer.
“I’m guessin’ you like it strong,” he mused. “Maybe a lil’ dash of cream, but definitely no sugar.”
You let out an exaggerated gasp that turned into a fit of laughter. Joel raised an eyebrow at your response, rolling onto his stomach to watch you as you continued laughing. How did he read you so well? Even if it was just something as simple as coffee.
“What’s so funny, huh?”
“It’s just crazy how well you know me, that’s all,” you giggled.
“Wait, I guessed right?” He gaped.
“Mhmm, right on the nose.”
“Well, c’mon, baby. Let’s get you that strong cup of coffee.”��
Joel tapped your leg before offering a hand to lift you from the bed. You scoured the floor for your underwear, finding them hidden under your nightstand alongside Joel’s boxers. With half your bodies clothed, you led Joel to the kitchen, the natural light reflecting off the marble countertops. It felt strange having someone in the house; you hadn’t brought anyone over since before Bennett left. You had grown so accustomed to your daily routine that including Joel in it felt unnatural…but also so normal.
“Make yourself comfy,” Joel urged, motioning to the barstools at the end of the counter.
You shimmed yourself onto the seat and watched him navigate around your kitchen. Your small pour-over sat in the corner beside the stove, which Joel quickly figured out.
“Mugs?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“Top right cabinet,” you said, pointing toward it.
Joel’s back muscles flexed as he reached to grab two mismatched mugs, and you leaned forward to watch him so relaxed in your home. His presence filled all the empty spaces you had hidden within the last two years.
“I made coffee,” Bennett called from the kitchen.
You dragged yourself out of bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders as you shuffled down the hallway. The house smelt of coffee and pancakes, and the morning was off to a good start. After a late night of arguing, you hoped a shared breakfast together would at least minimize the hostility between the both of you.
Bennett slid a mug across the counter, your hands wrapping around the hot ceramic and inhaling the steam that floated above the liquid. You muttered a soft ‘thank you’ before taking a sip, instantly scrunching your nose in disgust.
“Did you put sugar in this?” You asked, setting the mug down.
Bennett shrugged, sipping from his mug, unphased by your complaint. His hair was messy from sleep, the blonde strands sticking up at odd angles. He had slept on the couch for the night, which clearly didn’t do him well.
“You always have sugar in your coffee,” he glared at you.
“Bennett, when have you ever seen me put sugar in my coffee?”
“I don’t know,” he huffed. “Figured you liked it. Don’t all girls like sugar in their coffee?”
You scoffed at his words, shoving away from the counter and slipping off the barstool. Gripping the blanket tighter around your shoulders, you sulked into the living room, dropping yourself on the couch cushions.
“Here we go again,” Bennett grumbled, loud enough for you to hear.
Whipping your head back toward the kitchen, you jabbed a finger at him, a scowl twisting your lips upwards.
“Don’t you dare,” you warned.
“For fucks sake, it’s just coffee!” He yelled.
“It’s not just coffee,” you argued. “It’s you not knowing anything about me. It’s you not paying attention to me!”
Bennett slammed his mug onto the counter, rattling the ceramic. You jolted at the sound, shrinking further into the couch.
“I’m so sick and tired of hearing you bitch all the fucking time,” he snapped. “You always have something to complain about. Who cares if there’s sugar in it? I was trying to do something nice, but now you’re turning it into an argument. Like you always do. I can never do anything right, huh? It’s always my fault.”
His words were like a slap in the face, a knife to the open wound still bleeding from last night. You and Bennett had gone to dinner together, and he spent half the night complaining about work, never once letting you speak. When you tried explaining that you wanted to enjoy a nice dinner without discussing work, he unleashed a speech about how you were never happy with anything. The argument followed you home until you were both in a screaming match and eventually retiring separately for sleep—you in an empty bed and him on the couch. All you had wanted was a nice date night together, and it ended as it always did: you alone.
“I just wish you’d pay attention to me,” you muttered.
“Because everything is always about you, right? You’ve got to make everything about you. You can’t just say ‘thank you’ and move on.”
You sucked in a breath, trying to keep your anger at bay. Arguing with him was a losing battle; he would never admit his faults, even if it were something as simple as this. You were too exhausted to fight, so you only nodded and rewarded him with a tightlipped smile.
“Thank you for making coffee. I’m sorry for getting upset.”
Bennett rolled his eyes, dumping his coffee in the sink.
“Whatever. I gotta get ready for work.”
Then he was disappearing down the hall, slamming the door shut hard enough to knock a picture frame off the walls. You jumped at the sound and let the tears quietly fall as you sat in heavy silence.
“You alright?” Joel’s voice echoed around you.
You blinked rapidly, shoving down the memories and returning to the present. Joel had a hand extended to you, the mug piping hot and billowing with steam. You took it carefully, blowing on it before you took a cautious sip. Perfect. It was perfect, and it twisted something unpleasant inside you.
“I’m fine,” you lied, setting the mug down. You mindlessly traced circles around the brim, watching the bubbles around the edges pop against the heat.
“Am I that bad at makin’ coffee?” He frowned, leaning against your fridge.
“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”
“You’re thinkin’ about somethin’, huh?”
“Stop doing that,” you whispered, adverting your gaze toward the sliding doors leading to your backyard.
“Doin’ what?”
“Seeing right through me.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Joel moving through the kitchen, rounding the counter to stand in front of you. With a gentle hand under your chin, he drew your attention his way, a deep furrow between his brows.
“You wear your emotions on your face,” he said. “I can tell when you’re upset ‘bout something.”
“We don’t need to talk about it,” you sighed.
You didn’t like seeing Joel’s lips downturned; you missed the grin typically plastered on his face. You felt guilty for being the reason he looked so upset, and your knee-jerk apology was on the tip of your tongue. Joel bent down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering an extra moment before he pulled away.
“What if I wanna talk about it?” He asked.
“I don’t think you do,” you laughed bitterly.
Joel crowded you, stepping into the space between your legs. You were at eye level with his chest, counting the constellations of freckles hidden under the hair covering his torso. You’d rather marvel over his broad frame than discuss the painful memories of your past. You didn’t want to ruin this moment together.
“It’s okay,” you insisted.
“Don’t shy away from me, baby. Y’can talk to me ‘bout anything.”
You hesitated a moment. Joel had you spread open on your bed only minutes ago, and now the topic of your past was about to be the morning discussion. You didn’t want to talk about Bennett after an amazing night together, but if you knew anything about Joel, he wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily. He always wanted to know more.
“You’re just different from what I’m used to,” you started. “Bennett, my ex, wasn’t like you. He didn’t pay attention to me the way you do.”
Something flashed over Joel’s eyes, a sudden flicker of anger as you spoke about Bennett. He gave you a moment to collect yourself before you continued.
“We were together for five years, and he didn’t even know how I liked my coffee,” you scoffed. “And you guessed it in two seconds. Two seconds, Joel. I don’t understand how you do that.”
“Do what, baby?”
“Pay attention. You notice all these stupid, little things about me and make it seem so easy.”
Joel cupped your face in his large hands, his thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones. You leaned into him, letting his touch ground you while your eyes fluttered shut.
“I pay attention ‘cause I wanna know everything about you. Every single lil’ thing. That’s what it’s supposed to be like in a relationship, baby. Y’learn everything about the other person, and you remember it. From what you’ve hinted ‘bout before, I take it this Bennett guy was a real piece of shit.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone has told me.”
“Am I wrong, though?” Joel pressed.
“No,” you confessed. “He did treat me like shit. I wasn’t allowed to speak up for myself, or he got mad. He liked it when I was submissive and quiet, so that’s what I became.”
Joel’s fingers flexed against your face, his jaw clenching at every new admission. You had never admitted those things aloud, that Bennett forced you into this tiny box, making you become the perfect, obedient girlfriend. With an engagement ring on your finger, you were even more inclined to be whatever he wanted, just to know he wanted to marry you. Looking back, maybe the ring was less of a testament to his love and more of a muzzle on your outspokenness. Someone wanted to marry you, so that should make you quiet, right?
“I don’t want you quiet,” Joel whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I want you to be yourself in every way.”
“I don’t know who I am anymore, Joel. I haven’t been that girl in years.”
Tears were spilling over your cheeks, soaking Joel’s fingers that still gripped your face. Why did you cry so much around him? You hated how emotional you were; you hated feeling weak and small. You couldn’t get through one fucking interaction with Joel without ending up a mess. Did Bennett ruin you entirely?
“I’m sorry,” you cried quietly. “You probably need to leave soon, huh? You said Sarah’s at a sleepover, so I’m sure you gotta go get her and—.”
Joel tugged you forward, fusing his lips with yours. The taste of coffee and sleep lingered on his tongue as he coaxed your mouth open, and you welcomed him without hesitation. He kissed you slowly, with deliberate determination. You responded the same, letting yourself grow limp in his arms.
Breaking away, Joel leveled you with a stern stare that didn’t quite reach his lips since they twitched into a smile.
“I’m gonna kiss you every time you apologize just to shut ya’ up,” he said.
“That doesn’t sound like a threat, Joel,” you smirked. “I’ll just apologize more.”
“Then I’ll figure out some other punishment.”
Your thighs clenched at his words, and your mind wandered to all the possibilities of what he could do. You hadn’t lied to him when you said you didn’t always like things ‘vanilla,’ but you hadn’t really dipped your toes into that area yet. You’d willingly explore it with him because if last night proved anything, it was that you trusted him more than anyone. He could do anything to you, and you knew you’d be safe.
“Got a dirty lil’ mind, huh?” Joel’s voice dropped lower.
“Oh, shut up.” You playfully shoved at his chest, shimming yourself off the barstool.
Joel wrapped a hand around your wrist, pulling you back into his arms.
“I’m serious, though, baby. It fuckin’ kills me to see you cry. I’m gonna fix that.”
“You don’t have to, Joel. I’ll be okay. I’ll work on it.”
“We are gonna work on it,” he corrected.
You swallowed thickly and nodded. You were in uncharted territory with him, afraid of the future but willing to see where it would go. You had fought against it for almost two months now, and you were tired of fighting. You’d take things slow and test the waters with him… and hope you wouldn’t come out the other side with a shattered heart.
After cleaning up the flower petals left in the entryway and redressing, you finally urged Joel to go home. It was mid-afternoon, and you knew Sarah would want time with her dad. You couldn’t selfishly keep him to yourself, but he made it very known how badly he wanted to stay. With his flannel in his hand and his hair slightly tamed, Joel lingered by the door, reluctant to leave. You had shrugged on a robe while he had dressed, already dreaming about the long bath you’d take when he left. Your muscles were screaming for release after last night and this morning.
“Y’sure I can’t stay a bit longer?” Joel pouted, his lips pushed out as he glanced at you.
You laughed at his demeanor, enjoying the playfulness he always exuded. You wanted to learn how to be like that, to shed the walls built up around you.
“Sarah’s going to want to spend the day with you,” you said. “We can plan another date soon.”
“Or…” Joel wagged his brows. “I could come back tonight.”
“Oh my god,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “Go home, Mr. Miller, before I kick you out.”
Joel tugged the belt wrapped around your waist, hauling you closer until you were bumping into his chest. Dipping his head, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips. You could feel the smile forming on his lips as you nipped at his bottom lip.
“Have a good day, baby,” he grinned. “I’ll call ya’ tonight.”
“I’ll be waiting,” you exhaled.
You watched Joel until he got to his truck, his grin shining bright under the afternoon's clear skies. You waved at him as he drove off and closed your door with a heavy sigh. You needed to find your phone and make a very important phone call.
“You had sex with him, huh?” Beth asked, the phone barely reaching the second ring before she picked up.
You flopped onto the couch, your head hitting the cushions with a soft thud.
“I did,” you groaned.
“And?” She pressed.
“It was fucking amazing, Beth. I’m so screwed.”
“Why? Isn’t this a good thing? You finally hooked up!”
You grabbed a pillow to slap over your face, muffling a frustrated scream so that Beth wouldn’t hear.
“I’m scared, Beth.”
“Scared of falling in love?” Beth asked.
“Scared of getting hurt,” you sighed.
Beth was quiet for a moment, exhaling before gathering her thoughts and speaking her mind.
“You can’t let your past get in the way of this, sis,” she started. “Joel sounds like an amazing man, and he’s night and day different from Bennett. I get you’re scared of getting hurt, but I seriously doubt he would do anything to hurt you. Let him in, sis. Let him love you the way you deserve.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to reel in the tears… again. Beth was right, like always, but it didn’t make these feelings easier to battle. There was so much to lose.
“It’s obvious he likes me already, but I’m such a fucking mess. I—I feel so broken, still. What if he gets tired of me? What if he never feels anything more than this?”
“I think he’s already falling in love with you, sis.”
#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#joel x f!reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x teacher!f!reader#joel miller#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel tlou#tlou#joel miller pre outbreak#pre outbreak!joel#joel is the fluffiest man alive#so much fluff it's disgusting
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✩‧₊ chris sturniolo drabble
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
as music played in your air pods, you painted your nails a subtle shade of light pink. you were sitting amidst piles and piles of mess in chris' room; clothes, soda cans, wrappers, what not. but honestly, you were tired after a long day of working at the café and were busying yourself up with something that would drive your headache away, and you just could not be bothered with another session of cleaning.
chris, meanwhile, was at his desk, playing games with nick, matt and some of their friends. in his left hand was a can of his favourite soda, and his eyes were widened as he concentratedly gazed at his screen. you looked up at him every three minutes or so, smiling to yourself about just how adorable he looked, doing his own thing. like, you couldn't help but giggle at the way his hair always found a way into his eyes and he brushed it away annoyedly. or how he widened his eyes when he was really concentrating.
you'd finished painting your nails and you were in love with the way they looked. you excitedly hopped off chris' sofa, putting on your slippers as you rushed to chris. "chrissy! look at how cute my nails look!" you giggled. he looked up at your hands for a second, nodded, then looked away, but looked back up at you as he saw the cutest smile playing on your lips and just how happy you looked. "c'mere," chris said, beckoning you into his lap. he placed his soda softly on the desk, pushing it away to the side.
"okay," you said, gently climbing into his lap. you wrapped your hands around his neck, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, warming up to the soft material of his grey hoodie. "your hoodie's so soft," you say indignantly. "can i borrow it later?"
chris let out a little laugh. "of course you can, baby." he pressed a few kisses to your forehead. "you don't need to ask."
"okay, so i can steal your clothes any time i want?" you asked, looking up at him.
"yeah." chris reassured you. "whenever you want."
"you're so cute, y'know.." you said, planting your hands into his soft hair as you ruffled it up.
"yeah?" chris replied. "of course i am. i'm christopher owen sturniolo, the cutest man to ever walk this earth."
"i know that," a soft giggle slipped past your lips. "your hair's so fluffy, i wanna mess it up all the time, and your eyes are so pretty. i want them to be looking at me all the time."
"but i do look at you all the time. you're all i ever look at," chris said indignantly.
"i know, baby," you sighed. "you make me so happy."
"yeah, well, i love you," chris said, planting soft kisses across your neck and your collar.
"mm.. i love you too," you managed.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒
thank u for readingg !! mwahh <3
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ #ㅤㅤ𝒅ivid𝖾r by @florietasㅤㅤ☆
#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo fic#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets fanfiction#sturniolo triplets smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fluff#christopher owen sturniolo#sturniolo triplets fanfictions#fluff#the fluffiest fluff#drabble#female reader#fem reader#x reader#fanfic#fanfiction
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Wallflower 🌸 // 03
03 - Deflowering
Pairing: Sam Kiszka x F!Reader [Wallflower]
Masterlist: here | Crossposted: ao3 | Playlist: here | Word Count: 9.3k
Summary; After your hangout with Sam at The Arcade turns into something more, you find yourself vulnerable with him in a way you’ve never been fully comfortable with before. When you explain your lack of experience, he takes it upon himself to teach you with patience and care.
Warnings; tooth-rotting sweetness, petnames, alcohol, demisexuality !!!!, loss of virginity (kinda), oral (f & m receiving), unprotected, grinding? riding?, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, gentlemanly sammy, shower, aftercare !!, unrealistic college experiences lol, 18+ MDNI
A/N; thank you so much to anyone who read parts 1 & 2, it makes me so happy to know it was enjoyed so much 🩷
Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and does not reflect any members of the band or their real lives/actions/etc. - i hope you like it 💞🌸
vibes this chapter; wish on an eyelash - mallrat the alchemy - taylor swift touch tank - quinnie can’t help falling in love - kacey musgraves
The next day snailed by incredibly slow. Something about it felt different but you couldn’t place why. You had raided your entire half of the closet trying to find an outfit worth wearing to an arcade. As much as you wanted to wear a short little sundress, you figured it was best to opt for high-waisted shorts and a light blue baby tee.
Sitting on your folded legs in front of the mirror, you analyzed your reflection. The weight of insecurity yanked you back down to earth from the fluffy cloud you’d been sitting on since yesterday. The dullness of your skin and your tired eyes seemed to scream at you, chants of inadequacy. Of course Sam wouldn’t be interested in you like that, if he was why wouldn’t he have invited you to the event himself instead of Jake, or better yet, asked you on a solo date. He was easily the most beautiful boy on campus and looking at yourself then, you couldn’t imagine him looking twice at you.
This is it, you told yourself.
No matter how much your brain wanted to hold you back, something in you pushed you forward.
One full go, you thought, go all out to impress him and if that’s not enough then you knew it’d be time to squash the infatuation for good.
You pulled out your larger makeup bag that held the rest of your cosmetics outside of your essentials, the one you only took out for special occasions. Along with your makeup you pulled out your favorite hair tool.
You took your time, making every mark on your face with meticulous precision to accentuate your features perfectly - not too much and not too little. That attention to detail carried on to your hair as well, crafting it to the hair that made you feel the most put together, most beautiful. Finishing off the entire look with some lip oil, you looked stunning and definitely the best he’d ever seen you. Before leaving the dorm, you made sure to spray yourself down with your favorite perfume, making sure to hit all the pulse points.
When you arrived at The Arcade, the flashing lights and bustling crowd made it impossible to spot Sam or the rest of the boys right away. You scanned the sea of avid players, feeling slightly out of place as you stood there, searching through the chaos. After a few moments of awkwardly lingering, you heard your name being called from somewhere in the distance. You followed the sound, weaving through the crowd, until you spotted Sam waving you over with a wide grin.
As you approached, his expression shifted. His eyes widened, blinking as he took you in, his gaze sweeping over you in a way that was anything but subtle.
“You look so... nice,” he said, practically breathless, the words coming out on an exhale, almost as if he hadn’t meant to say them out loud. What you didn’t realize was how his nerves had begun to settle in, creeping through him with every step you took. There wasn’t much that rattled Sam, but somehow, in the time you’d known each other, you had become one of the few things that did.
Peach rose to your cheeks at the compliment. You took in his own appearance, his outfit was simple with plain jeans and the same rusty shirt you’d returned to him. As always, he made you nervous as well with his face perfectly sculpted and tan, and his hair voluminous and wavy. You were jealous at how effortlessly beautiful he was. “So do you.” You replied politely.
He smiled a toothy grin at the compliment, and you could’ve sworn you saw a flush on his cheeks as well.
“So…where is everyone?” You asked, noticing that he was alone, and this was supposed to be a group event.
“Oh,” He looked all around behind him at the bustling arcade. “The rest of them brought dates so, they’re kinda scattered.”
You had to keep your eyes from widening.
Did that mean you were his date all along and you had no idea?
“Let’s get drinks first!” He suggested cheerily. Sam had already had a beer to calm his nerves before you arrived, but he’d never tell you that. He guided you over to the neon bar with a gentle hand on your lower back. The warmth of his palm was enough to make you dizzy, feeling the heat radiate into your hips. Once at the counter, you recognized the bartender, it was Sam’s food delivery friend from the other morning. It seemed that Sam had friends and connections everywhere.
“What’ll be Samuel, another beer?” The tan boy asked as he was shaking a metal container full of a beverage for another patron.
Sam quickly diverted the conversation before you could focus on the implication of his pregame beer, “I’ll take an Ale and,” He pivoted to you with a hand waiting for your answer.
“I’ll have a White Claw.” You replied, not wanting to carry around an open glass or be too complicated.
He shifted back towards the bartender with a cheeky smile, “And a White Claw for the lady.”
You leaned against the counter, letting your eyes scan your lively surroundings. The arcade buzzed with chaotic energy, lights flashing in every direction and the air thick with a mix of laughter, competitive shouts, and the relentless dinging of machines. The place was packed — drunk college students crowded around the neon-lit games, hollering at their wins and groaning at their losses, creating a cacophony that was almost as overwhelming as it was fun. It was so packed that you still hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the other three boys.
Thankfully though, since it was an adult arcade there were no children running about. But a room full of drunk college kids wasn’t much quieter or less chaotic. Their energy was contagious, but also a little suffocating. You scratched your arm, feeling the overstimulation prickle at your skin, trying to ground yourself in something other than the barrage of noise. The clatter of skee-ball, the rapid-fire clicks of buttons, and the constant beeping and flashing lights seemed to swirl around you. Just as you took a deep breath, Sam’s hand tenderly found your arm, giving it a little squeeze causing the tense energy in your chest to calm just a bit. It was a tiny gesture, but it was soothing, like ice on a swelling injury.
“You okay?” His brows furrowed up in concern and you were a bit self-conscious that he could notice your discomfort so easily.
You plastered a smile across your lips and nodded, “Yeah, yeah. It’s just a little loud.” You didn’t want to worry him, you knew that once you both were playing something and the alcohol entered your system that you’d relax.
He grinned softly, “Let me know if it gets too much, okay?”
“Will do.” You nodded but wanted to move off the subject as soon as possible, not wanting to make it into a bigger deal than it was.
He handed you your beverage and brought his own bottle to clink against your can. “C’mon I already loaded the token card.” He gestured towards the games and walked towards the entrance, looking over the room as if it was full of opportunities. “What’re ya feelin’?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” You shrugged, suddenly overwhelmed at all the options. So, you defaulted to a classic. “Air hockey?”
A mischievous grin curled at the edges of his lips, “Oh you are so on.”
You giggled as you trailed behind him towards the blue and white table, “You’re right because I’m a fucking pro at air hockey.”
“Oh, we’ll see about that.” He took his spot with the red paddle, leaving you with the blue one on the opposite side. “Ready?”
“Fuck yeah.” You spread your legs into a competitive stance.
Sam slid the card through the slot with a smirk, eyes glinting with playful competitiveness, then the machine lit up with a cheerful jingle as the air hockey table whirred to life. Pucks rattled onto the surface, and you were quick to grab your flat, blue paddle, feeling the cool rush of air from the table against your hands as you slid into position.
With an almost effortless swipe, you sent a puck spiraling into Sam’s goal. Another shot followed right after, zipping across the table like lightning. A playful grin crept onto your face as you dodged another puck and sent it straight into the slot.
Sam, meanwhile, was determined. His brown hair fell into his eyes, but with a swift motion, he tucked it behind his ear, never breaking focus. His tongue peeked between his lips as he squinted with laser-sharp concentration, brows furrowed and eyes flicking back and forth as he tracked every puck that dared to cross into his zone. It was hard not to laugh at how intensely he was taking the game—and yet, it made him look even more attractive, a balance of beautiful and utterly adorable. You could tell there was nothing more in his head right then than winning, even though he wasn’t. You contemplated letting him win to boost his ego but your competitive streak wouldn’t relent.
With one last clank into the goal, your scores blinked on the archway above the table: 280 | 420
“What the hell, you must’ve cheated or something.” He huffed.
“I think this might be a long night for you, Kiszka.” You teased.
“We’ll see about that.” He retorted confidently, squaring his shoulders.
From Mario Cart to coin pushers to Wheel of Fortune and claw machines, your winning streak would not quit. The only game he had had any luck in was a rhythm based game where you had to hit specific panels in time with the beat. He soon caught onto the fact that he easily won those so he had dragged you to every single music-centered game.
“7 Tokens left.” He informed.
“Hmmm.” You scanned over the floor, before you could suggest anything he let out a small, excited, “Oh!”
You look up at him with a tilted head.
He pointed to the back left corner. “Photobooth, let’s go!”
You grinned wide at his suggestion and the pure excitement in his voice, but it quickly fell as he ran towards the booth. You stood there frozen, unexpectedly flooded with the nervousness of being so close to him in such a cramped space.
However, a wave of pride washed over you when you remembered how perfect you made yourself look that night. If Sam was gonna have a picture of you forever, you’d make sure it was a good one.
With newly reinvigorated confidence you made your way over to Sam with your head held high. “Well, get in, let's go.”
“Okay, okay, miss bossy.” He raised his hands up in defense before swiping the token card. He used his hand to pull the curtain door aside and slid into the bench.
When you joined him inside the pod-shaped booth you realized it was most definitely meant to be for children from how small the bench was, with Sam taking up most of the real estate.
“Oh.” You said softly, feeling out of place and a tad sad that it wasn’t something you both could do together anymore.
“It’s okay.” He gestured towards himself with a swift hand. “Just sit on my lap.”
Your eyes rounded slightly in surprise, but you nodded, a bit unsure. As you took a tentative step toward him, your foot caught the step up, and before you knew it, you stumbled, falling right into his lap. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you landed, your heart racing from the sudden movement.
Before you could even process what had happened, his arms were around you, steadying you in place. His hold was firm yet comforting, and he let out a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
Warmth spread across your skin beginning from your cheeks, it was a simple phrase but one that made you weak in the knees. “Thanks.” You breathed out with a humiliated smile.
He kept one hand securely clasped around your hip while the other fumbled with the photobooth controls. “Alright, we got 20 seconds.” He said, his voice tinged with playful urgency.
“Okay!” You giggled, sitting up as much as you could and ready to strike the silly pose the screen was prompting.
“Oh, wait!” He interrupted and goosebumps spread across your body when you felt his hand cradle your cheek, pressing his thumb into your cheekbone. “You’ve got an eyelash.” Seamlessly, he slid his hand down your face so that his fingertips held your chin while his thumb presented itself in front of your lips. “Make a wish.” And when you didn’t immediately follow his direction, he clarified your confusion, “It’s good luck!”
You glanced down at the eyelash, then met his eyes—deep brown and earnest. The air between you was thick with anticipation, your breath mingling in the small, dimly lit space. You blew a gentle puff of air, sending the eyelash tumbling away, but Sam’s gaze remained locked on yours. The moment felt like it stretched on for far longer than it did.
Suddenly, you were extremely aware of his closeness and the hand that never left your cheek. His eyes darted to your lips, and you felt a palpable shift in the air. The playful tension melted into something more profound, more urgent. Your heart was frantic in your chest and your breath was held in the back of your throat. With every passing second, the space between you seemed to shrink until it felt almost unbearable. You could feel his breath warm against your skin, his touch tender yet electric.
Sam’s gaze returned to yours, searching, and you could no longer ignore the pull between you. Without another word, Sam leaned in, and your heart raced as he closed the distance. His lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss, your eyes fluttering closed at the soft pillow-y feeling of his lips. The photobooth camera flashed, capturing the perfect moment in a burst of color and light. The world outside ceased to exist as you melted into the kiss, feeling the soft press of his lips and the thrill of something new and undeniable.
You both melted into the kiss, your lips moving together with a tender intensity that felt exhilarating. You shifted in his lap for easier access to his lips without parting from him. Your hands found the sides of his face, holding him there so gentle yet firm. He kept one hand on your cheek and the other on your hip anchoring you in place. The photobooth captured each frame, preserving the sweet, stolen moments for eternity. When the flashing finished, you finally pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed.
His pupil-blown eyes bounced between yours, seemingly searching for something - perhaps some sign that you enjoyed it, even though it was quite obvious you did. When neither of you said anything, he spoke up first. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He breathed out.
“You have?” You whispered back, still in disbelief.
He chuckled, “Yeah, silly. Was it not obvious?”
A blush grew on your cheeks. “Maybe. Maybe I’m just oblivious.”
“I think so, Wallflower.” He smiled and used his hand still on your cheek to smoothly pull you into another kiss. It was soft yet sparking, full of tension suppressed from the past couple weeks. It was nice to finally have him in the way you’d been daydreaming about for so long. When he pulled away, his eyes were filled with both adoration and need. His skin was tingling with excitement every place your bodies touched, and he desired more of you. “You wanna get out of here?”
You nodded quickly, full of the exact same need and tension. “Take me home, Sam.” You expelled on a breath.
After collecting the photo strips that preserved the sweetness of your first kiss together, you both snuck out of The Arcade without a single goodbye to anyone.
The trek home was drunk, giddy and affectionate, new love now sparked fully and openly between you both. It was still so new that all the touches were charged but reserved. It was like driving a new car, so excited to take it for all it's got but wanting to preserve the shiny newness. Your hands entwined together, giggling, leaning back and forth on each other just to feel the others’ warmth.
Once inside the elevator heading to your floor, the playfulness didn’t end. His arms wrapped around you from behind, getting you used to the feeling of his lips on your cheek. It was around floor 2 that a mischievous grin spread across Sam’s lips, his hands slowly headed for your midsection and quickly attacked. You let out a squeal at the sudden tickling, not expecting at all. “Ah!” You got out between giggles, “Sammy!”
He just laughed victoriously as you squirmed in his grasp, counting down the seconds til the elevator doors opened for the 3rd floor.
The second those metal doors slid open you took off like a gazelle trying to escape a predator. “Stay away from me!” You called down the hall without care for the sleeping students residing behind the walls.
“I’m faster than you!” He said, quickly catching up to you.
You ran to the end of the hallway and realized you had nowhere else to go. His door was closest to you and so you scrambled trying to open it in hopes that he’d forgotten to lock it. Unfortunately for you, he hadn’t.
“Ha, I gotcha!” He announced, his fingers finding their way to your middle again causing you to nearly double over in uncontrollable laughter. When he realized you were wriggling around enough to escape, he grasped your waist and lifted you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs and arms around him for stability.
As you slid down into where his hands supported you at his hips, the giggles that filled the air dissipated. You both took one look at each other before your lips met feverishly. It was the first heated kiss you shared together, and it had lightning striking all over your body.
His soft lips that you only just learned the feeling of, pressed hard against your own. You mutually opened your mouths and allowed each other in. He tasted like beer and cigarettes in the best possible way. You wished you could bottle up the scent, taste and feeling of him.
He pressed you against the door as he hurriedly searched his pockets for his dormkey. As he worked, your hands buried themselves into his hair trying to see how much you could distract him. By some miracle he got the door open, took one single loop around just to press you against the other side of the door.
Your tongues danced together, neither one fighting for dominance but desperately needing the other. He pulled away just to drop his head into your neck and had your eyes widening when you felt his lips meet your pulse point.
“Sam.” You breathed out, your legs still wrapped around him tugging his hips tighter against your core. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of him sucking at your skin. The tingling feeling beneath his lips felt like it dropped directly to your center, blooming a buzzing need there. Your fingers gripped into the roots of his hair as you let out a moan you disguised as a sigh when his teeth lightly dug into your flesh.
His hands slid up your thighs, giving them a strong squeeze as he pressed himself further against you, letting you feel how mutual the energy was. He let out a little frustrated groan against your neck before pulling you off the door and carrying you to his bed. He didn’t let you fall but carefully set you down, his mouth never leaving your neck. If there was one thing for certain, it was that there would be evidence of this night tomorrow.
He began moving his kisses down, “I need to taste you.” He mumbled and you froze at the implication. He seemed to pick up on it and stopped, looking up at you curiously through thick brown lashes.
“What’s wrong?” He asked lifting his head up to eye level with you.
“I um,” You began but fell short.
“We don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.” He reassured quickly, feeling a bit guilty for jumping the gun.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just…” You trailed off hoping he’d put it together, but he anxiously awaited your words. “I’ve never… done… that.” You finally explained with an embarrassed grimace and when the look of realization hit his features you covered your face with your hands. You wanted to roll over and die in humiliation.
“Oh.” He replied simply, obviously not thinking this was going to be part of the journey. But just because he wasn’t expecting it to be part of the experience, didn’t make him any less excited, just more concerned about your comfort.
“I know, it’s so embarrassing!” You squeaked beneath your hands. This was the last thing you expected happening tonight and you were nowhere near ready to explain that you’d only done some of the basics and none of them were ever pleasant for you. You’d get to a certain point with a couple boys but couldn’t do anything more than fingers and handjobs. You always fell short for one reason or another, for a while you thought you might’ve even been asexual, but you were definitely not questioning that label now. You never had real feelings for the other boys, but you did for Sam, and maybe that was the difference.
“Hey,” He said, cupping your hands with his own, pulling them apart gently. “It’s okay. It’s not embarrassing.” He reassured and you wouldn’t have believed him if it hadn’t been for that loving smile of his. “If you want, we can stop now. If you wanna continue, then I can show you how good things can feel. Okay?”
You nodded, “I wanna continue.” You replied quicker than you intended and blushed at the smirk it brought him.
“Okay then,” He smiled and leaned down to kiss you again. “How about we do like…” He thought for a second, “Colors? Like red, yellow, green? So that you can tell me if you need me to slow down or stop?”
You didn’t expect a boy to be so accommodating or understanding, you were flooded with the comforting feeling of being cared for. “Okay.” You nodded down at him as he continued his original path.
His hands snaked down your sides lingering at the hem of your tee. “Shirt?”
You mulled it over in your head, the bra you chose was nice and had some lace, so you nodded. “Green.”
He smiled and helped you slip out of it. He took a moment to admire you, “God you’re beautiful.” His head dipped back into the crook of your neck, placing a kiss below your ear. “I can’t wait to make you feel as good as you look.”
Blood rushed to your cheeks at his comment and sent a flurry of butterflies between your legs. He placed slow open-mouth kisses down your neck, across your collar bones and then where the bra left your breasts exposed. You’d never been kissed there, and it felt foreign but nice. His sizable hands slithered underneath you, running his fingers across the band of your bra. “Color?”
You hummed, not fully confident yet to commit. “Um, yellow? You can undo it but not take it off…just yet.”
He smirked against your skin, “You got it, Baby.”
Your heart swelled at the nickname, it was the first one he’d given you romantically. You loved the sound of it coming out of his mouth.
He continued leaving kisses down your bare stomach until he finally reached your shorts. “Col-”
“Green!” You nearly spat out and covered your mouth with bright red cheeks. The wetness pooling between your legs was becoming all you could think about. Any time he’d suck and swirl his tongue on your skin all you could imagine was what it would feel like on the most intimate part of you.
He chuckled at the urgency in your response. “Okay then.”
In one swift pull of your shorts, you were left with just a thin piece of cotton protecting you from complete vulnerability.
He kneeled down between your legs. “Oh wow.” He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his eyes locked on your covered center like he was hypnotized. What you didn’t realize was that your white panties would show just how excited you were. Two of his fingers trailed up your inner thigh until just before your core. “Color?” He asked, his voice sounding almost drunk at the sight of you.
“Yellow.” You wanted to say green, but your nerves stopped you. “Like, green, but slow.”
He nodded, completely entranced with you as he slowly pulled your panties down, baring you completely. You felt so vulnerable and exposed that you snatched a pillow from beside you to cover your face.
You stiffened the second you felt his touch on the lip of your pussy - it was an odd feeling, being so excited yet so incredibly nervous.
He took his time exploring you gently, just to get you accustomed with his touch before actually doing anything. He was doing such a good job at making you feel comfortable that it was taking a little too long for you. You moved the pillow enough to peek down at him, “Green, green.” You informed, urgently.
He grinned, finding it endearing. And with that he let himself give into you completely. He pressed a kiss just above where you began before pressing his tongue gently into your clit. You were so worked up that that alone made your mouth make an “O” shape. “Oh my god.” You breathed out slowly. The feeling only worsened when you felt him smirk against where he just licked.
“Oh, baby that’s nothing.” He said quietly before licking at your nub again. “Fuck you’re so wet and I’ve barely touched you.”
He decided it was enough teasing and finally dove into you fully. His tongue worked diligently in slow but tight circles with an occasional vertical motion. You had long foregone the pillow by then, choosing to watch him devour you instead.
He pulled away for just one second to say, “God, you taste like fucking heaven.” before diving right back in.
You were convinced his tongue contained some sort of magic from how good it was making you feel. With each turn of his tongue, it sent waves of buzzing euphoria along with it. You never knew you could feel those sensations, nothing you’d done with anyone else ever felt that good. But Sam was attentive and really fucking talented at what he was doing.
Abruptly, you felt a tight knot forming in your stomach. “Oh, oh, I, I think, I-” You began but felt short of words, trying to hold on for dear life.
“Just let it happen, Baby, it’ll feel so good I promise.” He said quickly before returning to work you towards your peak.
Not long afterwards you followed his instructions, or rather, he forced you to when his tongue began making 8’s on your swollen bud, you were done for.
As cliche as it was, you felt like an exploding firework. Electricity sparked across your body, washing every bit of you in blinding pleasure. It stole all the air from your lungs and words from your mouth. In that moment you were useless to the world, lost in the utter bliss he’d given you.
His tapering pace brought you slowly back down to earth. You hadn’t realized that your fingers were clamped in his hair until he stopped.
He licked one last fat stripe up your entrance trying to get every last bit of you on his tongue. Your eyes were glued to the ceiling, too nervous and too shy to look down at him. Though, it seemed he wasn’t allowing that to happen. He lovingly stamped open mouth kisses up your body from your center to meet your face. As if he could sense the anxiety swirling in your body, he took your cheek in one palm while the other kept him propped up. “You were perfect.” He whispered.
You blinked up at him, wondering if that was even possible. You’d argue if your head wasn’t still fuzzy and floating in the clouds.
He chuckled fondly at your blank response, “Did that feel good, Flower?”
You just hummed and nodded against his hand. “Good…so good.” You mumbled into his palm before giving it an exhausted kiss.
He smiled that radiant smile of his and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You tasted amazing.” He whispered against your skin. “I could eat you all day.”
You scrunched your nose up at the thought, not believing anyone would find it enjoyable to eat someone out for that long. But the thought soon shifted into experimental curiosity, surely, he couldn’t do that… could he? Could you? How would you endure that for so long… how many orgasms could you possibly have?
Even the mere idea of another orgasm like the one you just had, had your head spinning. In that moment you realized it could be dangerous, sleeping with Sam, because you’d never had a high like that – and just like a brand-new addict, you wanted more.
He moved to lay down next to you, he laid flat on his back but with his head turned to you, which you mirrored. “Was that okay? Are you okay?”
You nodded enthusiastically, “Yes. Yes.”
The edges of his mouth curled up, “Good.”
All of a sudden, you furrowed your brows at him while he tilted his head, silently questioning your confusion.
“Well, what are you doing? It’s your turn.” You stated as if was obvious.
He laughed fondly at your innocence, “It’s okay babe. I told you we could take it slow.”
“No, no.” You shook your head vehemently as you peeled yourself from the mattress to straddle him before he could stop you.
His head tilted off the bed to look at you with wide eyes. He had taken you in while you were laying down, but now you were almost fully nude sitting on him.
“I wanna learn.” You answered his wordless question simply. Your hands raked down his clothed body until they reached the button of his jeans.
He cleared his throat, shifting below you, already feeling him hardening beneath your bare cunt. “What?”
“I want to learn.” You repeated, slowly sliding the metal button through the slot before tugging down the zipper.
Your nervousness had taken a backseat, the absolute euphoria he gave you had empowered you. You wanted to return the favor, you wanted to be the one to make him feel like that too. And the pulse that returned to your pussy begged you to go all the way. You trusted him, you might even love him, what a better choice was there?
You mimicked the actions he’d done to you, leaning down and pressing light kisses to the side of his neck. Your hands took a break from his jeans to slide beneath his rusty shirt wanting to feel him as fully as he had you. “Off.” You begged below his ear.
When he nodded you sat back up to give him the space to tug the shirt off by the neck and toss it to the edge of the bed. You marveled down at his toned chest, running your fingers over the tan ridges. “You’re so handsome.” You said softly, almost ashamed at the rather proper compliment in such an improper setting.
He let out an adorable chuckle at the compliment and placed his hands on your bare hips. “And you’re so beautiful. Angelic even.” He trailed up your sides to your barely-on bra. “May I?”
You blushed and nodded, finally ready to bare yourself completely to him. You helped him peel the garment off and discarded it to the floor where the rest laid.
“God,” He breathed out as his hands tentatively found your exposed breasts. “Could you get any more perfect?” His thumbs flicked at your nipples while he began working the flesh in his palms.
The feeling of someone’s hands on you in general was foreign but you were quickly warming up to his touch. As he played with your breasts you worked diligently on tugging his jeans down enough to where you could grind against his covered cock.
He was so preoccupied with you that he didn’t realize what you were doing until you were pressing your bare pussy against his straining cock in his briefs. His jaw fell slack at the shock of it. “Oh my god.”
That’s where you learned that you loved getting that reaction from him. It only fueled you, rutting yourself back and forth on him slowly. Rather quickly you realized that you desperately needed him out of his boxers.
You dropped to hover over his face, keeping yourself up with one arm while the other lazily played with the band of his underwear. “I want to suck your dick.” You didn’t wait for a response. “Will you teach me?”
You didn’t know if his eyes could widen any further then felt his cock twitch against your pussy and it filled you with the most pride you’d ever felt in your life.
“Oh- I,” He stuttered over his words and blinked blankly up at you. “Yes. Yeah. Yes.” He nodded quickly.
“Okay.” You giggled, finding it adorable how flustered and excited he got. You were finding that sex came with a feeling of power that you quite enjoyed.
You slinked off of him and sunk down to your knees between his legs, giving you the opportunity to pull his jeans down fully before slipping two fingers on each side of his short briefs. “Color?” You asked as a cheeky joke.
“Green, definitely green.” His eyes watching your fingers intently.
And with that, you tugged the geometric patterned underwear down, finally letting his cock spring free. Your eyes took it in fully, following the length of his underside. It was larger than any other dick you’d partially hooked up with, the size both excited and scared you. With any other boy you had never felt comfortable enough to use your mouth, the thought of it with them always disgusted you - but Sam was making your mouth water.
“Teach.” You asked in an impatient but naive way.
“Lick.” He blurted out, probably wishing something more eloquent came out. “Taste.”
You followed his instruction, reaching your tongue out to meet the head of his cock. Sam pulled his lip between his teeth watching you, needing more but knowing you required time. Instinctively, you snaked your hand up to hold him at the base so you could take his tip in your mouth fully. The skin there was soft and delicate, and tasted salty of skin mixed with precum. You hummed at the flavor which sent his eyes fluttering closed. “Fuck.”
After you got a sense of him in your mouth, you took the initiative to take more of him - that got you a little groan in the back of his throat. “Fuck baby.” He adjusted beneath you slightly. “Lower.” He instructed, watching you again then went to say something but hesitated. “Use your tongue.”
You wiggled your brows as you cautiously set your tongue out against the underside of his shaft as you went lower, taking even more of him. “Oh, yeah. Just like that.” His voice dripped in needy lust, and you couldn’t get enough of it.
When he hit the back of your throat, you didn’t expect the involuntary gag that it caused. Despite what you thought was a disgusting noise, he let out a full groan at it. “We can work on your gag reflex a different time.” He breathed out. “For now, just don’t try to push it.”
You hummed an ‘okay’ with him entirely in your mouth then dipping your tongue out to lap at his base before moving back up and pulling off with a pop. You continued the motions you’d learned on him, looking up at him occasionally to watch his face contort in pleasure.
“Fuck.” He groaned with his brows furrowed up and his jaw slack at your bobbing movements. “I think I-“
You popped off of him to interrupt, “Sammy. I want you inside me.”
He shook his head, “No, baby, you don’t want that I promise, not like this.” He heaved out, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and his eyes half lidded down at you. “If I fuck you right now, I think I’d destroy you.” His fingers raked through your hair in admiration. “When we do, I want to take my time. And there’s no way I’d be able to hold myself back from you right now.”
Disappointment in your features was present, but you knew he was right. You didn’t want your first time to be rushed or hasty either. As you held his pulsing cock by the base an idea bloomed in your head like a lightbulb flickering on. “Okay…” You said slowly, “How about this.”
Sam furrowed his brows at you as you brought yourself back up on your feet. “What’re you doin?” His chest rose and fell quickly as he asked.
Your knees found each side of his hips and you carefully sunk down on his thighs behind his length. His eyes were bright and desperate like he was a kid in a candy shop wanting to taste every morsel of sugar. His focus was locked in on the proximity of your pussy to his cock and how it was taking every bit of self control to not just give in to you. Your hand gently found his cock and tenderly held it vertically against your lower tummy. The visual made you almost nervous for when you eventually do take him inside you, he was so long there was no way he’d be able to fit completely. Your thumb swiped at the precum that pooled at the tip and brought it up to your mouth.
His eyes widened as he watched you suck his residue off of your finger. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste, letting out a small moan. You had no idea what had come over you, just that you were being commanded by throbbing that had made home in your cunt. It was like you were possessed with the utter need for him.
“You are so fucking… fuck, I don’t even know, I don’t have a strong enough word to describe how incredibly stunning you are.” He said quietly, in complete awe of you. He felt as though he truly had an angel in his lap. His cock twitched in your stationary hand as he spoke, proof that he was so turned on by your beauty alone.
Rose red tinted your cheeks at his words, making you feel bashful again momentarily. The flattery though, quickly turned into fuel. You carefully pressed his cock down flat on his own stomach. Your eyes met his as he watched you slide forward to have his cock slot between the wet lips of your cunt. He sucked in a harsh breath at the feeling of you enveloping him. “Fuck.” He breathed out.
He looked so gorgeous this way, so on edge and needy and completely infatuated with you. You couldn’t take a single second of it more. You bent down, nudging his nose before rejoining his lips. It was difficult to keep your desperation together as you kissed him, but you wanted it to start off sweet before descending into depravity. He lifted his head to be closer to you and his hands reached up and held your cheeks as he swiped at your bottom lip. He used his hold on your face to bring you down closer to him. Your tongue met his again hesitantly at first, refamiliarizing yourself with his kiss. When you began rutting your hips on him, all control left both of you. Your tongues entwined themselves feverishly while moans escaped your mouths. Grinding your cunt against him proved to be rather pleasurable for you as well as for him. Every time your sensitive clit passed the ridge of his swollen head it made you clench around nothing - all you wanted was for him to be inside you, it was all you could think about. While the action wasn’t everything you wanted, it was fulfilling your needs.
The same knot as before began to form in your tummy but it was building faster than you could keep up with. The ache in your clit chased release faster and faster with your movements against him. You grew wetter by the second which greatly aided your speed. You pulled away just a centimeter, “Sammy,” You breathed out pathetically against his lips. “I’m close, really close.”
He nodded quickly. “Me too.” Truth was that he’d been close for a while but had been holding on by a thread, wanting you to climax first.
His mutual confirmation alongside with your accelerated momentum tipped you over the edge violently. Your head fell into his neck as you fucked yourself on him, letting moans pour from your mouth and into his ear.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He groaned out as he finally let go, painting his chest with his own milky release.
The twitching and bouncing of his cock against your overly-sensitive clit threw you into an unexpected new sensation. Your stomach burned with an overpowering feeling, something between discomfort, pain and pleasure. You whimpered sharply, gripping hard at his arms, “Oh, oh!” Your nails dug into his skin as another unexpected orgasm approached, this one stronger than you’d ever experienced before. Your entire body seemed to lock up at the overpowering pleasure and then something happened that you had never encountered before - nonetheless knew you could do. You felt a bit of liquid release from you and onto him. It was a foreign but extremely pleasurable feeling combined with the extended orgasm your body was experiencing. Once you rode out your high and realized what you’d done, you stilled completely.
“Did you just-” He began but you cut him off.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” You nearly shrieked in embarrassment and sat up in his lap. “Oh my god, that’s never happened before, I-I didn’t know that was gonna happen. Oh my god your bed, oh I’m so sorry I-”
“Baby, baby, baby.” He placed his hands on your hips to ground you. “It’s okay.” He paused. “That’s never happened before?”
You brought your thumb up to your mouth to anxiously chew on your thumbnail and shook your head. “No, never.”
He grinned proudly, which confused you because you expected him to be upset. “Did it feel good?”
A shy smile tugged at your lips and gave him a small nod. “Very.”
“God that’s so fucking hot.”
Warmth littered your cheeks, “What? Really?” You asked naively.
“Fuck yeah. I wanna make you do that again. And again.” He squeezed your hips. “Fuck, even on my face.”
You smacked his arm gently, “Don’t be nasty!”
“Speak for yourself angel, you’re the one that just fucked yourself on my cock.”
“Ah!” Your post-orgasm clarity suddenly making you feel incredibly bashful over all of the atrocities you just committed. You covered your face, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
He chuckled, taking your hand from your face and bringing it up to his lips to place a chaste kiss there. “Whatever you say, Flower.”
You looked at him a little confused, remembering that he’d shortened your nickname earlier too. “Flower?”
“Well, yeah, you’re not that shy around me anymore.” He teased, but you pouted. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”
“No, I do. I like it.” You tugged at your lip with your teeth, feeling vulnerable. “Just don’t stop using the first one too.”
His heart couldn’t have swelled any more than it did at your request. He loved that you liked your original nickname enough to not want to let it go. “You got it, Wallflower.” He placed a couple more kisses on your hand before giving your hip a pat with his other hand. “C’mon, let’s clean up.”
Sam carefully sat up and snatched the shirt he had tossed off earlier and swiped his chest clean. He set the crumbled shirt off to the side and let his fingertips trail down your arm to tenderly reach your hand. “Shower?” He suggested softly, bringing your hand to his lips again, looking up at you with large brown lovestruck eyes through thick lashes.
You offered a tired smile and nodded, “Sounds perfect.”
He grinned, gently easing you off of his lap and leading you over to his bathroom. You were infinitely grateful for his in-dorm shower.
He did everything for you, turned the shower on, tested the water with his palm, helped you step over the ledge, he treated you so delicately, like a princess.
You reached up to the shower caddy for some body wash only for him to grasp your wrist. “Can I?”
You chuckled, turning around to face him, “Can you what? Wash me?”
His smile was hesitant and almost shy, but he nodded, “Yeah. I wanna take care of you.” He stretched his arm past you to grab his own body wash and a loofah. You raised a brow at the suspicious puff, not necessarily wanting to use his personal loofah.
“Don’t worry.” His voice was soft and low. “I got a spare, in case you wanted to shower one of the nights you escaped from your roommate.” His hand squeezed the woodsy-scented gel onto the cream-colored puff.
“Really? You did that for me?” You asked quietly while you watched him work the blue gel into the mesh. He brought the loofah to your side first, swiping it across your middle.
“Yeah, of course.” He whispered, moving the puff across your torso and intently watching the suds pour down your skin.
You nudged him, “Oh that’s why you wanna do this.” You teased, rolling your eyes.
“It’s certainly a plus.” A cocky smile tugged at the edge of his lips. “But no, we did a lot, I wanna do this, I wanna make sure you feel okay.”
You wrapped your hand around his boney wrist, “I do feel okay, Sammy.” You blinked up at him before letting your gaze fall down to the tile. “It wasn’t that much anyway. We didn’t even…”
“Hey.” He used his free hand to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. His dark brown eyes bounced between yours trying to read them. “We can take as much time as you need. I don’t want you to feel pressured to do that. Okay?”
Your heart filled with gratitude, thankful that the boy you happened to fall for was one who was so kind and patient - in your previous experiences, boys were anything but patient and kind. Your eyes couldn’t help but water at his compassion.
“Oh,” He pulled his hands from you as if he was somehow hurting you. “Oh, did I do something wrong? We could get out, or-”
“No, no.” You sniffled, bringing a finger to wipe the tears pooling in your eyes even though you were beneath running water. “No, you’re just so…sweet to me.” You shrugged.
“You’re crying because I’m…sweet?” He asked, confused. He passed the loofah back and forth between his own hands anxiously.
You chuckled, “Yeah, just,” You sighed, letting your arms fall to your sides. “My past romantic experiences haven’t ever gone well.” You admitted with a hint of sadness in your tone. “They were always pushy and always tried to force me to do things I didn’t want to do. And you just… are so sweet, and kind, and caring, and patient with me.”
The edges of his lips downturned at your words. “I’m sorry you’ve had those experiences but,” He brought a hand to tilt your chin up to meet your eyes directly. “Me being kind to you is just the bare minimum, Y/N. It’s not worth crying over.”
You went to argue but he stopped you. “I don’t want you crying over mediocrity, you deserve the world, Wallflower. If you let me, I’ll show you more than just kindness.”
While his words meant to stop your crying, it only worsened it, so much so that you couldn’t help but throw your arms around his torso and bury your face in his chest. You weren’t sure what you wanted to say so all you could muster was, “Thank you.”
“Oh, angel.” He said softly, smoothing out the back of your wet hair. “You don’t have to thank me for anything.” His heart ached at the thought of anyone being rough with you, especially rough enough to elicit this sort of reaction over sheer kindness. He couldn’t imagine having anything other than love behind any motives when it came to you. The idea of someone trying to force you to do anything or being mean to you was so unfathomable to him. It only made him want to treat you better, to prove that you were worthy of so much more.
Your arms tightened around his middle before pulling back, feeling vulnerable. You wiped a tear away, “Maybe I’m just extra sleepy.”
“Okay baby.” He tucked a chunk of your damp hair behind your ear and placed a kiss to your head. “Let me take care of you here so we can go to bed, does that sound good?”
You nodded, surrendering to the tenderness in his touch as he took over washing you. His hands moved with such deliberate care; every gesture filled with quiet compassion. If you weren't so naive, you might’ve even recognized it as love, though the warmth spreading through you was undeniable.
He started with your arms, his fingers moving gently as he lathered the soap, the sensation of the suds against your skin both soothing and intimate. He worked slowly, his hands grazing over every inch with such gentleness that it made you feel cherished in a way you’d never known before. When he moved to your legs, his touch remained soft but steady, as though he were taking the time to make sure every part of you was tended to, like you were something precious.
Then came your hair. He carefully massaged the shampoo into your scalp, and the sensation was so blissfully relaxing you could feel any tension draining from your body with every stroke of his fingers. The rhythmic pressure of his fingertips kneading your scalp was enough to lull you into a state of near-sleep, your eyelids fluttering as you gave in to the calm.
You leaned into his touch, the sound of the water running over your skin mixing with the gentle hum of his breathing. It was as if nothing else existed in that moment—just the steady, soothing motions of his hands, the warmth of his presence, and the quiet intimacy that filled the space between you.
When he was done with you he washed himself and after a while, the warm water began to cool. The faucet squeaked as he turned the knob and when the water stopped he gently guided you out of the shower.
With a soft, sleepy sigh, you stepped out of the shower and he promptly wrapped you in a soft towel, drying you off with the same gentle care he’d shown before - slow and unhurried. You barely noticed, your limbs heavy with drowsiness, the warmth of the bath still clinging to your body. The air felt cool against your damp skin, but the comforting weight of his presence kept you from shivering.
Too drowsy to even think about getting dressed, you barely registered as he guided you toward the bed, your legs heavy with exhaustion. You let the towel fall to the floor mindlessly b-lining to the mattress.
You slipped beneath the soft covers, sinking into the comfort of the sheets against your bare skin as sleep tugged at your eyelids. The day’s fatigue along with everything that happened at the arcade and all that occurred in his room just moments ago was slowly pulling you into the quiet embrace of sleep.
You curled up, naked and content, sinking deeper into the mattress as sleep tugged at the edges of your consciousness. The bed dipped gently when he slid in beside you, and without a word, he pulled the blanket over both of you, tucking it around your shoulders. You felt his warmth immediately, his body like a shield from the cool night air, and you instinctively melted into him, seeking out his newly familiar heat.
In that sleepy haze, with the soft weight of the blankets and his arms around you, a new feeling bloomed in your chest, one you couldn’t quite name. It was a feeling you hadn’t fully recognized before, a warmth so profound it went beyond mere safety. “Safe” didn’t seem to capture it, though it came close. It felt more like being cradled in a world of your own, shielded from everything outside, like sitting in your car during a storm, listening to the rain lash against the windows while you remained dry and untouched, wrapped in your own private bubble.
The sensation was so pure and overwhelming, you silently prayed you’d never have to live without it. It was a quiet plea, the kind you whisper to yourself when you realize you’ve stumbled onto something too precious to lose.
Sure, it felt like a lot to entrust to a boy you’d only known for a month, a college kid whose life was as unsteady as yours. But you found yourself trusting him in ways you hadn’t trusted anyone before. You’d already given him pieces of yourself without hesitation—your laughter, your secrets, your body— why not your heart?
You knew it was a risk, but lying there in the quiet, with his steady breathing lulling you closer to sleep, you felt certain there was no one else you'd rather trust with it.
Sam’s arm tightened around your midsection from behind, pulling you flush against his bare body and something about it was so intimate, but not necessarily sexual. It was comfortable, vulnerable, and special.
“Goodnight, Wallflower.” He whispered thinking you were already asleep. His lips placed a soft kiss on your shoulder, and it sealed your deal with slumber.
“Goodnight, Sammy.” You smiled softly, letting sleep pull you under.
As you hovered on the edge of dreaming, a quiet certainty settled in your mind—if you were ever going to give yourself wholly to anyone, it would definitely be Sam. He made you feel things you’d never known before—things that filled you with warmth, comfort, and a sense of safety you'd never experienced with anyone else. Your heart swelled with a feeling too early to name, too early to speak, too early to be completely sure of. But it didn’t stop you from feeling it fully. Just because it was early didn’t mean it was any less real to you. And maybe, just maybe, one day you’d be brave enough to tell him. Until then, you held that feeling close, savoring the hope that this was only the beginning and that perhaps he felt the same way.
A/N; i am contemplating this being the ending of Wallflower? but i am conflicted, so please let me know if you’d like another part or two? 💓
Either way, i hope you enjoyed the journey so far, please let me know your thoughts/feelings/etc! 🩷🩷
Jake fic coming soon
Taglist; @measuredingold @sacredthefran @shutupdevvie @i-choose-the-road @musicislove3389 @persuasivus @broken0mens @peaceloveunitygvf @deathblacksmoke
#this is probably one of my favorite stories i’ve ever written <3#definitely the fluffiest story ive ever written#and the fluffiest smut#sam kiszka fanfiction#sam kiszka fanfic#concreteburialplot works#sam kiszka#sammy kiszka#sam kiszka smut#sam kiszka fluff#sam kiszka fic#sam kiszka x reader#sam kiszka gvf#sam kiszka x y/n#sam kiszka x female reader#greta van fleet fluff#greta van fleet smut#greta van fleet fanfiction#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet fanfic#greta van fleet
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Btw Sky Clear Blue Ch 26 includes a bonus illustration. Juuuuust sayin’. ☺️ This preview is both cropped and blurred; full image is in the fic.
Only FIVE CHAPTERS left to post!! (Fun fact: by total serendipity, the final chapter will be posted on October 8, which is not only SCB Crowley’s birthday…it’s my birthday, too 😁😁)
#good omens#good omens crowley#good omens aziraphale#aziraphale#crowley#good omens fandom#aziracrow#digital art#fanart#ao3 fanfic#sky clear blue#good omens fic#good omens fanfic#good omens au#good omens art#good omens fanfiction#good omens fanart#fluffiest smut ever l#stay / I’ll stay#keep me / I’ll keep you
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ooookay im writing another tamlin x fairy!reader and its totally different from the one i already posted. Imo it's like 10 times better and i can't wait to show you guys🥹 i might post a little sneak peak tonight🧚♀️⭐️
#tamlin x fairy#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#acofas#acosf#acomaf#pro tamlin#tamlin x reader#tamlin smut#tamlin acotar#tamlin#tamlin x oc#tamlin fluff#tamlin angst#fairy reader#acotar fanfiction#i love tamlin so much#lucien vanserra#pro lucien vanserra#pro lucien#tamlin x you#tamlin x fairy!reader#this is the fluffiest fluff#fluff
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I don't have a specific prompt in mind, but could you write some t4t wyll x karlach? With any prompt that strikes your fancy
Wyll still hasn't gotten used to this new body. Karlach can still see him struggling to get a shirt over his head with the new horns, to get stuck in tight spaces or feel a ridge on his brown skin over and over again to make sure that it's supposed to be there and not something to worry about.
To an extend Karlach understands feeling like a stranger in your own body, but she had a lifetime to get used to hers, while Wyll's was changed in an instant without his consent. It's a horrifying thought to have this body that she made a home in be changed against her will like that, because she spent an entire childhood feeling like it was lacking something until she finally figured out what it was.
The infernal engine was bad enough, but it didn't change the way she looks by much, except for the constant glow in her chest. Aside from the foreign piece of machinery inside of her, Karlach likes this body. Likes all the scars she collected, likes the muscles and the fiery red skin, the shape of her eyes, her crooked index finger.
If Zariel had taken her tits, Karlach would have killed her long ago. She worked very hard to get those and she won't give them back.
Whenever she catches Wyll eying his own reflection, Karlach wants to step up to him and tell him that he's beautiful just the way he is, and that his heart hasn't changed and that he's still the most noble man Karlach has ever met. But she also knows that it doesn't work like that. You only get one body, one home for your soul to live in for the extent of your life.
Having that home violated like this, changed beyond recognition... She understands how much it hurts.
Next time she finds him gazing at a mirror Wyll's finger wanders along the contour of his ear as if he's trying to memorize the new shape of it.
"Hey soldier", she says with a smile and sits down next to him, her arm brushing against his. It's still a rush, to be able to touch people like this.
Wyll turns his head to smile at her. A flash of embarrassment crosses over his face because she caught him with the mirror but Karlach doesn't think there's anything to be ashamed of.
"Penny for your thoughts", Karlach says, grabbing the mirror from Wyll and holding out further away so they can both see parts of their faces in it. Sometimes she thinks that they were made for each other in more sense than one. Monster and monster hunter, both trying to do good, soldiers who can't return home, their bodies changed in a way that they wanted and then violated against their will, changed beyond recognition.
"I was thinking if maybe there's something I can do. To make myself feel more... at peace. With this body that I have now. When I was younger I did my best as much as possible. Bandaging my chest, shaving off my hair, wearing pants instead of frilly dresses. This is... different. Similar but different. I don't know if I'm making much sense."
Karlach understands. The two of them have the very same scars on their chest for the exact opposite reason. When she's feeling really mushy inside it makes her cry a little bit how well they fit. And when she's feeling particularly horny she wishes she could make them fit together in even more ways than this.
"I get it", she says, raising her hand to follow the path of his finger from before, gently touching the shell of his ear. Wyll shivers a little and she can see goosebumps erupt on his forearms. Gods, she wants him. She wants him so much. "If you want we could try to do some stuff to make it feel more like yours."
Wyll blinks and looks at her.
"How do you mean?"
Karlach shrugs.
"It's really silly, right, but. Uh. When I got this engine", she bangs on her chest twice for emphasis, "I was really desperate to reclaim my body somehow so I like. Got a tattoo. Got some piercings. Tried to make this house a home again, you know?"
She holds out her arm to show Wyll the tattoo of an anatomically correct heart on her upper arm.
"It's so on the nose but... I don't know. I just wanted something that was mine and that I decided to do with my body", she explains, shrugging her shoulders before putting down the mirror. Wyll's finger touches one of her many piercings she has in her right ear. Karlach tries not to sigh.
"You think I should try one of these?", he asks with a lopsided smile.
"Dunno if that would work for you. It did for me. Guess it's worth a try, right?", she says.
"Where do you think I should put it?", he asks, turning around to face her fully now, his face open and curious and his voice soft. Sharing these thoughts and feelings with someone means the world to Karlach. Every day she's thankful that it was Wyll who chased her through the Hells and that she got to meet him through all of this insanity.
"Well. You're such a handsome bugger, I think you could rock any piercing, really", Karlach says earnestly, watching full of delight how Wyll ducks his head because of her compliment. "But maybe we could start small and just give you an earring. To see if you like it. And if you think it works we can always make that mouth of yours even more kissable and put a ring through it."
Wyll huffs and she watches as he swallows, maybe because he's thinking about kissing her with a ring through his lip or maybe just about kissing her in general.
Karlach stretches out both hands and puts them on Wyll's chest, right where the two fine scars are on his chest.
"I know it sucks, but you still have this. We both do", she says quietly. Wyll hesitates before he mirrors the gesture, putting his hands just below Karlach's boobs. She feels absolutely normal about it and it doesn't do things to her at all. Nope. She's so, so strong.
"Imagine Mizora would have summoned my breasts back... I would have had to kill her after all", Wyll jokes and Karlach snorts a laugh.
"Devils suck but at least they're gender affirmation dickheads", Karlach says and bangs on her infernal engine again. Wyll touches his ear again.
"Do you want to do this?", he asks, his eyes shining.
"Fuck yeah. Let me get a needle from Fangs. Maybe we can get matching ones!"
Wyll looks at her so fondly, it makes her engine burn hotter.
"I would like that."
feel free to send me more of these<3
#bg3 fic#karlach cliffgate#wyll ravengard#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#bg3#mi writes#wyllach#wyll x karlach#i was almost ready to turn this into the softest fluffiest gender affirming smut........#thank you so much for the prompt i love these two to pieces ;-;
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It's funny that how much I love writing smut and put my whole pussy in creating it but my most popular work is fluff which I wrote in just few minutes
#and it's more funny that how much I squeeze some bit of fluff even in my smut and it's fluffiest fluff#if u know u know
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WIP Wednesday 🍸
I'm always late so now I decided to try and post early and start the day off with a snippet from the drunk and stupid fic – which is almost finished, currently standing at 11k and hopefully will be posted on Friday at the latest~
Eddie nodded, his hair an absolute mess and falling over Buck’s face as he moved. His hands finally found their way under Buck’s shirt and he ran them over his abs, then his pecks, lingering over his nipples, rubbing his thumbs in circles around them and – fuck, Buck was always so much more sensitive when drunk.
He bit his bottom lip, but it did little to stifle the high-pitched moan ripping out of his throat. He pushed his chest into Eddie's hands, his breath catching as his nipples hardened under Eddie’s touch.
“Fuck… Eddie.” If you’d ask Buck, he’d say it was absolutely not a whine, but since no one was asking he was quite content on letting Eddie’s name twist off of his tongue in any manner of sound.
Eddie pushed Buck’s shirt up as far as it went with his jacket still wrapped around his shoulders and slid lower over his body to exchange his right hand to his mouth and o-kay. Buck was definitely whining now.
If he had the composure he might’ve made a mental note about how no one ever took him apart with so little, but right now all he could pay attention to was the route of Eddie’s tongue around his nipple and the way his wet and overly-warm lips wrapped around it, sucking after every few laps.
Buck’s hands went to Eddie’s back, suddenly too aware of how overdressed they both were. He fisted the fabric of his Henley, pulling and tugging, not coordinated or coherent enough to make Eddie lift himself up long enough to actually take it off of him.
No pressure tagging: @forthewolves @eddiediaztho @daffi-990 @jesuisici33 @callaplums @ladydorian05
#nearly there just gotta tidy up the ending and have a last edit#they really made me work on this#and the angst that I totally did *not* plan took over a bit#but I'm gonna give it the sappiest and fluffiest ending because the boys deserve it#btw fair warning I absed the hell out of em dashes and semicolons and italics#like I've outdone myself methinks#also the angst isn't that heavy at all#I just initially planned this to be some sweet fluffy smut#but that's not how we landed#buddie#911#wip#the drunk and stupid fic
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Annnd fluff fic the eighth and final! It's also the sexy one 😏
Soft but smutty Ash Tyler x Chris Pike: Being There
Rated Explicit, ~2.4k words Prompts: Warm hands + A warm drink in cold hands
Summary: Ash has a nightmare again… but he doesn’t have to deal with it alone.
#chaosfic#fluffiest flufffest#smut#star trek strange new worlds#star trek discovery#star trek#ash tyler#christopher pike#captain pike#piler
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oh my god 14 has my heart(s)
sweet, soft, cat energy and says "love" without hesitation
OH YOU BET YOUR ASS IM WRITING 14/ROSE MY TIME IS NOW
#dw#timepetals#dw spoilers#fourteenth doctor#the doctor shitposts#THIS IS GONNA BE THE FLUFFIEST SMUT IVE EVER WRITTEN LIKE TOOTH ROTTING
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A flip of a switch
Chapter 6
Rating: Mature
It hadn’t been like this the first time they’d had sex, not even close. He’d been too busy trying to keep some semblance of control, trying to keep it from becoming honest. Now, honesty was all that was left.
Happy Wednesday here's some graveyard smut <3 i think this will be my last update to this fic? but who knows
Just fluffy, giggly, lovey sex, idk what to tell you. It's smut from start to finish with a couple pov switches. yep.
Read on AO3
Read from the beginning (6/6 chapters, 15,737 words)
Prequel to Disarmed which you should read if you like these two together!
Astarion never thought of himself as empathetic, not really. Empathy had been tortured out of him pretty quickly, he supposed, removed to make room for self-preservation and survival instincts. Still, nestled between Mina’s thighs, looking up at her dilated eyes, her lips swollen from kissing, he knew a moment of profound pity for every other thinking creature on every plane of existence who would never experience this exact moment. Nothing else could possibly compare.
He kissed her inner thigh before running his tongue slowly, flatly, up through her folds and latching his lips gently around the bundle of nerves tucked between them. He felt her jolt of arousal where their minds were still connected, almost painful in its desperation, and heard her fingers digging into the grass at her sides. As he sucked her gently into his mouth, he slid a hand up to explore the soft heat of her skin, traveling up the dip of her waist and over her breast, committing every inch of her to memory. So soft, she was.
He darted his tongue out and her hips jerked involuntarily as she made the most beautiful sound he’d heard yet, and sex was sex, and a clit was a clit, and there was a part of him that wished none of it felt familiar at all, but the sounds she made were a revelation. She tasted exactly like he would expect, and completely different. Her body was sweetness and saltiness and skin and sweat and love and safety and joy all dancing on his tongue.
It wasn’t the mindless bliss of 15 minutes ago that he was feeling now, it was something much more heady and complex, and it was as terrifying as it was lovely.
As he suckled her rhythmically, gently running his tongue over her like a caress, he ran his hand back down her torso and stroked her hip, the curve of her ass, her inner thigh, before slowly dipping inside her once more. He moaned against her at the heat and the closeness, and he looked up to see her arching her back, her chest heaving, her moans turning into soft, broken cries into the quiet night air, cursing and breathing his name. He had never heard anything so beautiful.
She was starting to lose control, and it was glorious. It hadn’t been like this the first time they’d had sex, not even close. He’d been too busy trying to keep some semblance of control, trying to keep it from becoming honest. Now, honesty was all that was left. Another of her cries seemed to travel to his very core and grind his hips down into the ground unconsciously. He was almost painfully hard. He slipped another finger in to join the first, and she gasped like she’d been drowning and suddenly resurfaced.
It’s you, he reminded himself. It’s you making her feel like that. Deserve it or not, you’re here and you better fucking make the most of it. His free hand squeezed her thigh where it was braced and he felt a wave of love from her mind.
Impossible, all of it. Completely impossible.
________________
Mina wasn’t positive, but she was fairly certain this was how she was going to die. A human body simply couldn’t sustain this level of sensation, it was going to kill her. And honestly, was there a better way to go than with this man between her legs? At least she’d die happy. And hells, she was already in a graveyard. That was nothing if not convenient.
Had she not been fighting her every impulse, she would have bucked her hips so hard when he slipped another finger in that she would have broken his nose (though the way he was devouring her, she wasn’t sure that would have stopped him). She had long given up control of the sounds she was making, and spared a thought to hope no bereaved were visiting their loved ones right now. It was too much, the suction and the friction and the vibration of his moans against her. The absolute pleasure of him, his skilled fingers and his athletic tongue, and so much deeper than that, the way he was trusting her and surrendering to her. She was so, so lucky. It was impossible for anyone to deserve this. But her mind, for once, was not in charge, and her body wasn’t going to let her talk herself out of this happiness.
Astarion crooked his fingers gently, drawing them almost all the way out of her before plunging back in, and she heard herself cry out. Her legs were pulling as far apart as possible, trying to open herself up to him, give him as much access as she could, and the night air against her wet skin made her feel deliciously exposed. The suction from his mouth had reached a rhythm that was falling in time with the movement of his hand, and she needed… something. She released the grass she’d been pulling at, feeling around for some anchor, some point of contact. She had the presence of mind to avoid his hair, though she wasn’t sure if that still applied here? It had seemed okay before, as if maybe the moment earlier had been angle-specific, but now wasn’t the time to play around. If he needed her to, she'd be able to stop, but at this point it would be almost physically painful. Best to avoid if possible.
Darling, she heard in her mind, and embarrassingly enough just the sound of his voice in her head made her bite her lip around a moan, not to eavesdrop, but a hand in the hair sounds divine right now.
Fuck. She needed him to be very, very sure, because she was not capable of being gentle. Her left hand was tearing grass out of the ground by the root as she thought. She was racing towards a climax and felt utterly out of control.
It was the angle darling, I promise. I’ll keep my mind open in case anything changes, but—
Looking down, she saw his eyes close and felt him moan around her again, the sensation making her vision go spotty. When his eyes opened again, they were dead serious and locked with hers.
—use me, darling. Trust me. Take what you need.
Her body responded before her mind could process, her hand flying to his hair and tangling into it, holding him tight between her legs like his mouth was the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth. Her other hand felt around desperately until it found him where he was holding onto her thigh. At her touch he loosened his grip, and she locked their fingers together, hers shaking so hard that it took a couple tries.
That’s it, darling. Let go for me.
She cried out hoarsely, her relief so close and so far at the same time. She needed—
A third finger joined the first two, and her entire body quivered with the delicious fullness of it, the feeling of him filling her, holding her, trusting her, loving her. She drove herself down onto him in time with his thrusts, one, two, three times, and then–release. Her mouth fell silent, no sound she could make feeling like enough, as her mind began screaming: Yes, gods, YES.
Her orgasm hit her like nothing she’d experienced, a tidal wave of bliss and relief and gratitude sweeping away every thought. She rode the waves of it physically, her body rolling and clenching around him as her legs shivered. His mouth grew gentle, but didn’t leave her as she floated back down to earth, eventually falling limp against the grass.
“Fuck,” she breathed, her vision gradually returning as she caught her breath. Her stolen shirt was in a state of complete disarray, and she knew there was no small amount of dirt under her nails.
Slowly Astarion extracted himself, pressing kisses up her torso as he came to join her. She pulled him towards her and their mouths crashed together messily before he collapsed next to her, breathing almost as heavily as she was.
Usually Mina was exhausted after an orgasm, needing some time to recover before getting back into things. But the taste of her own pleasure on his lips, the smell of him next to her, the bliss still sitting heavy on her skin–recovery was the last thing on her mind. Hells, she felt feral. As he rolled onto his back beside her she followed, coming to straddle him with her hips hovering over his erection. She bent down to kiss him, sucking his lower lip between her teeth before licking her way into his mouth. A residual wave of pleasure washed over her, like a sudden flashback to a moment ago, and she pulled back to close her eyes and bring her forehead against his, biting her lip. She had never felt like this after sex; it was like the orgasm had never stopped, just slowed. The feeling had her pressing closer to him, gently rolling her hips down to meet his. Just the feeling of his cock between her legs made her twitch, and he groaned beneath her. She thought back to the first time they’d had sex, and it was so obvious now how guarded he’d been. Coaxing genuine, unrehearsed sounds from him… it was an addiction. It was all she could think about.
________________
If this was what sex was supposed to feel like, he had no idea what he’d been doing for the past 200 years.
She was kissing him again, her body slowly melting down onto his and her hand cupping the side of his face. His shirt was hanging off her shoulders and her hair was mussed. It wasn't so long ago that she’d been defending him to his former master, her robes flying, her face fierce in the magical light, and now she was here, all those fierce angles turned to curves, her entire being warm and soft and sweet and messy. It defied words, how lucky he was to get both versions of her.
As he licked into the heat of her mouth, he thought in her direction, How would you like me to fuck you, darling?
She sighed into his mouth. I don’t think I care, she replied finally. As long as I can look at you while you do it.
I’m not letting that beautiful face out of my sight, darling, don’t worry .
He rolled over her and used his knee to hitch up one of her legs, opening her up to him, and without another moment of hesitation he lined himself up and pushed inside.
Sparks burst in front of his eyes as she cursed beneath him, her voice almost a whimper. Her body was quivering, and he stayed exactly where he was for a minute while both of them adjusted. She got there quicker than he did, and when she pulled him down for a kiss and her body squeezed around him, he almost lost control entirely. But no, he wasn’t done yet. Slowly, he began to move, and when he pulled out slightly and pushed back in, fully sheathing himself inside her, she broke off their kiss to gasp. They were both breathing comically hard for how little they were moving. Before he could stop himself, the thought turned into a breathless laugh. His eyes met Mina’s, and she began to laugh as well.
“This is absurd,” she managed between giggles. “How is it this intense? How are we supposed to do anything else ever again?”
A lock of hair had fallen across her face, and he brushed it away, still smiling and breathless. “I have absolutely no idea, darling.” His hips twitched, his body tired of staying still, and the friction turned both their laughter to gasps. Astarion closed his eyes, only opening them when he felt a hand on his cheek. He looked down to see Mina’s eyes shining up at him, a soft smile still on her face.
She didn’t say what she was thinking, but she didn’t need to. They’d heard the word in each others’ thoughts enough, they both knew they were loved. And they both understood that saying it out loud was complicated. If they already knew, why push it? It was clear in her eyes how she felt, and he was sure his face was just as easy to read.
So instead of speaking, he kissed her gently on the forehead, and then began to move once more.
When she came for the second time, barely five minutes later, it was with his fangs in her neck and his name on her lips, and his vision went white as she throbbed around him, pulling him after her into bliss.
#bg3 astarion#bg3#astarion#bg3 fanfiction#my writing#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fic#the fluffiest smut in the world?#maybe#i literally hate the title of this fic lol#i was really eager to post and put zero thought into it#and now it's the bane of my existence#i beg you don't judge by the title#it's better than it sounds
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stayed up until 9am writing smut again oops
#my sleep schedule is so fucked lmao#but this is turning out to be the cutest fluffiest smut and I’m loving it so far :)#idk how this keeps happening#jake and baby bradshaw really just bring it out of me I guess#but aaaah I’m getting so excited to share this fic#only took me like 11 months to make some real progress on it haha 🙃#fic: always a bridesmaid#kricket rambles#goodnight !
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PRETTY KITTY TURNS PRETTY HORNY .ᐟ FT SATORU GOJO
synopsis - finally you decided to adopt a new friend at the adoption centre! only, he wants to be more that friends…
warnings - p in v, brief oral sex (fem receiving) unprotected sex, slight manipulation(?) creampie, shitty smut, petname: master used mockingly, not thoroughly proofread, talk of potential children, lowk masochist gojo, ect ect. fem reader
notes - yay I finally got this out! lol it honestly did get a bit sloppy at the end but I wanted to get this out b4 christmas!enjoy! the smut is lowkey short but I don’t want to fix it..
edit - I just realised I posted this on his death date
Phew, you did it.
You finally grew a pair and adopted a newly rescued snow-leopard hybrid! After months of your self-pitying you managed to convince yourself to adopt a friend!
You spent many, many hours contemplating on whether to actually adopt. And many hours more watching sad videos on hybrids, how mistreated they are out of the adoption centre.
That was more than enough to convince you.
Now you have an exotic hybrid of your own! And he’s just the cutest little—er big thing! He’s got fluffy little ears, a handsome face, striking blue eyes, and the fluffiest tail in the world!
You’ve learnt a lot about him. His name is Satoru Gojo, around the same age as you! Unfortunately, he spent a lot of his life in illegal fighting rings. Poor thing almost got killed a while back. Luckily, his caretakers at the agency have had no aggression problems with him! He’s affectionate, friendly, reckless at times, but overall great to have as a first time owner!
He’s really—really big. His head just about reaches the ceiling of your small apartment. It's gonna be hard finding clothes for the man. Let alone a bed.
But that’s all a problem for future you!
Packing him in the car was a hefty thing, his tallness being the main problem, a little cramped (he had to lay half his body on the floor) but it worked in the end!
As soon as you bought the little—uh, big critter home, you pampered him with affections. Petting his head, rubbing his ears, scratching under his chin all that stuff that makes him mushy in the brain!
The only problem would be leaving him alone… he’s fairly clingy. You’ll just have to work on that. He seems capable enough. Hopefully…
Note to self: get a baby cam.
˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗
Maybe this was a mistake.
Satoru’s a really good guy, he’s friendly, definitely affectionate and really clingy. All good qualities that you love about him!
But, there are qualities you come to… dislike, so to say.
He’s bratty. defiant against your house rules, a back-talker.
He always wants attention. Pushing things off counters or using his tail to block your eyes whenever he wants to annoy you.
He’s very manipulative. Using his wide eyes to trick you—or anyone—into giving him sweets!
He’s also unbearably horny, probably his worst trait. Always trying to rub against you, heck even mount you! For someone so angelic-looking, he sure ain’t an angel.
And you can name a couple of… embarrassing incidents.
Incident #1
“Hey—Toru! What are you doing, stop that!” You shout, trying to push him back and away from— wait, are those your panties he has in your mouth!
“Satoru! Bad boy, get those out of your mouth!” You splutter, face flushing red.
But, apparently you adopted the devil.
He tilts his head in an innocent way, ears flopping to the side as he deviously munches on your precious—and very expensive—underwear.
You try to wrestle them away from his maw, unlucky for you, you’ve also adopted an abnormally tall hybrid. His innocent act drops as he dangles them above your head, laughing at your embarrassment.
Of course, he gave it back. Not without it slicked in his spit and now turned crotchless.
It was… not a great moment for you or your hopes of being dominant over him.
Incident #2
It’s a nice sunny morning, you got up earlier than your alarm, made a nice breakfast, and finally got that darned work assignment finished.
A peaceful day.
Until your precious kitty takes his biting urges on you.
“Satoru, do-don’t bite meee!” You whine, once again trying to push away the snarky beast. God, why must he be twice your size.
He chuffs, pining you with his weight as he nibbles at your skin. Tail swaying mischievously behind him.
“Mn—be still, lemme jus’…” He whispers. Devious man he is. His nibbling becomes full-blown bites, decorating your neck and collarbone in a bazillion bite marks.
Satoru only giggles at your pathetic attempts of squirming away. Pfft, you think he’ll let you walk away? Nothing gets away from his keen eyes.
Needless to say, the bite marks were not a fashion statement at work. Didn’t really capture as many complements as it did laughter.
Note to self: Invest in a muzzle.
Incident #3
Now, maybe this is your fault. You did notice the change in behaviour, he’s always been clingy— the staff at the agency did say he was… the possessive type. But! You didn’t notice the possessiveness until now! So it’s not entirely your fault.
Okay, maybe his growling at your friend— male, should you note— was a teensy red flag, the constant butting of his head against you was also alerting you. So you maybe-sorta-should’ve predicted this.
Maybe if you realised that Satoru is not entirely human (even though he acts like it), you would’ve remembered he has an amazing sense of smell.
“aaahnn… mornin’ Toru’, how did you sleep hm?” you yawn. The lack of response is unnerving, and rude.
“Hey now, ts’ not nice to ignore me, Satoru.” Again silence, wait—what the-?
“Oof! Satoru—gah!—get off!” You struggle, your overgrown hybrid kitty has decided to pounce on you, his full weight crushing you.
“H-hey—oh!” Did.. did you feel that correctly, is your boy.. oh gosh.
“Mrrow…mn, you smell s’ good.” His breath is hot against your neck, sniffing at your throat, his fuzzy ears rubbing under your chin.
“Mnh—heat, in heat? mrr..” He purrs, big hands encasing yours as the big idiot rocks his hips against your backside— oh my.
“H-huh? No, down Satoru! Bad boy—ooh!—don-don’t!” You try not to moan out as he ruts against you. Licking at the nape of your neck, almost mockingly.
“Heh— shh, I’ll take care of ya. Aw’ you’re so small compared to me..” Satoru breathes, chuckling like he always does.
…
Lets just say, Satoru has become real good friends with the spray bottle.
Note to self: Get him neutered.
˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗
And there are way more incidents as… sexual as these ones. You love the big guy, he’s cuddly, got a fuzzy head, really warm, but he seems to really enjoy mounting you. Like, really badly.
He’s become a menace! I mean, you knew he wasn’t neutered, but you didn’t think he’d be interested in you!
It's almost everyday he tries to get in your pants! Gotta hand it to him, he’s really persistent.
Well, you won’t be taking any of his nonsense today!
“Satoru! Breakfast!” You yell out. You hear him scurrying around the corner, jeez food fein.
“Heh, mm waffles..” He purrs at your feet, nuzzling against the back of your knee.
He wraps his tail around your ankle, hands gently kneading at your leg. Nose twitching at the sugary smells.
“You hungry, sweetie?” You coo, petting the big oafs head.
Awh, maybe you’re being too harsh on him. He’s your baby, he doesn’t know any better!
˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗
Oh who were you kidding, of course he knows what he’s doing! Why are you so gullible?
What was supposed to be a nice, calm, peaceful, non-sexual breakfast, ends up with your mischievous kitty munching on your pussy instead!
He’s got your legs up, knees having small-talk to your shoulders whilst he —quite literally— devours you.
“Satoruuu!— don’t do thaah! Oh!” You squeak. You weakly push on his head, trying to get him away from your front.
Unfortunately, Satoru is a determined cat.
“Mnn, be still. M’ hungry.” He purrs between your legs, the vibrations of his voice send tingles up your spine.
For Satoru, that delicious nectar leaking out of you is heavenly. Until this thin, pathetic piece of fabric ruins his meal. If only he could just…
rripp!
“H-huh? S’toru! Those were expensiveee— haa!” You scold. well, try to. It’s hard to speak when you’re literally breathless.
He tongues at your now naked pussy, slurping all that gooey goodness you so graciously produce. So sweet.
He pulls back, your cunt and his mouth connected by a sloppy string of spit. He coo’s and presses a kiss hard against your clit, making you twitch and moan.
Out of the corner of your eye you see the devil incarnate smiling so sweetly, his tail curling around your ankle. What was once a sweet gesture is now no longer reassuring.
Your ‘innocent’ kitty now has free rein to your more… primal parts. The stronger scent pulls on Satoru’s will, he whines at the sudden, yet aggressive urge to bury himself inside you.
Hmm maybe he should.
Hoisting himself up, Satoru leans back on his calves, admiring the little mess he’s made of you. Flushed red, panting, drooling, and completely high on the pleasure. His pants tighten.
He’s been blessed with such a cute owner!
˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗
Plap! Plap! Plap!
“Haa— d’aww don’t be so shy, master. Heh—fhuck!” Said the devil incarnate, mockingly.
Satoru is a condescending bunch, cute but really full of himself. It’s shows in his way of fucking.
He has you on your back, legs resting on his broad shoulders as he literally folds you in half. Your head is just reeling, your face is covered in his spit, hairline all sweaty, jaw hanging open, and you're burning all over!
His cock is big, too big. It nearly split you in half when he tried to fit it in. He’s never been a patient kitty.
“Awhhh— masterrrr, you’re tightenin’ up sho’ muchhh…” He purrs. Tail swaying mockingly.
Leaning forward, Satoru nuzzles his ears against your cheek, wanting to be pet.
Unfortunately, you’re incoherent to his requests. Too focused on the harsh rutting of his cock into your sticky cunt.
“Heyyy… pet meee,” He whines, “Hm? Heh— tappin’ out already?” His eyes gleam with mischievous-ness as he grins a toothy grin. You’re not gonna make it out alive.
He bites his lip, giggling at your pleasured face. If only he could take a picture, save this moment forever. He cups your face, caressing your sweaty cheeks, then presses a loving kiss to your lips.
“Mwah! Hehe— you’re so cute,” He whispers against your lips.
In midst of this somewhat sweet moment, the pace of Satoru rolling his hips against you increases. Then turning into him full on slamming his hips into yours, huffing as he focuses on pounding you into next week.
All you can do is grip onto him, tugging on his ears. He moans pornographically, drooling as you harshly grip his sensitive ears. The painful yet pleasant sensation sparks something new in Satoru.
With the intent to breed, Satoru turns you over. His chest to your back as he leans his weight on you, arms wrapping tightly around your sweaty skin.
This new position gives Satoru a better chance at giving you some cute mini him’s!
“Oh! Oh!—Toruuu’!” You squeal, tears now brimming in your eyes at the overwhelming feeling that is undoubtedly him.
Without warning, you cum. Hole clenching and spasming and coating his lower body in a translucent liquid.
“Hm—hah— I knew you wan—ahn—wanted me!” He mewls, quickly pounding in and out, creating a wet ‘schlick!’ sound.
Oh you’re so perverted! Letting your precious kitty take you like this!
You’ll never live this down.
Satoru doesn’t seem to care.
“Oooh— m’ cumming, nng— masterrr!” He moans, non-stop humping into your creamy pussy, drooling all over you.
“Not—not insideee! Toru’!” You cry out, pushing your hips back to get him off of you, it does the opposite.
His tail wraps around your thigh as he cums. It splurts frantically inside of you, his cock twitching violently as he whines in pleasure.
It’s hot, sticky and definitely a thick load. It feels endless, liquidy rope after rope. But it feels so refreshing.
He pulls out (you didn’t think he would), nuzzling and purring at the nape of your neck. Innocently licking at your tear-stricken cheeks.
…
It’s been so long since you last experienced this pleasure.
You’ll definitely regret this later.
˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗
Oh god, why did you do that!
Having sex with a hybrid is just a different type of low, even for you!
Oh jeez, you're just as perverted as him! Oh whywhywhywhy! He was just supposed to be a companion! Not a—
“Mrr, pet meee..” Satoru whines, pawning at your chest. He’s back to his old self again.
Mostly. He’s become more… confident in his abilities over you. Let’s just say after your regrettable (not in his eyes) playtime with him, he has no restraint on mounting you now. The idiots even started humping you in public!
Which is why you’ve been leaving him at home.
Now more than ever, you two spend a lot of time together. Mostly consisting of naps, him licking you, more naps, eating… recreational activities, blah blah blah. He now sleeps on your bed, he’s more like an overstayed one night stand than an exotic cat.
At Least he’s extra cuddly!
#.toru#hybrid satoru#snowleopard!gojo#hybrid!gojo#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo#gojo headcanons#gojo smut#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk smut#hybrid jjk
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Hidden Away From The World
Pairing - Daemon Targaryen x Valyrian!F!Reader
Summary - Out in Essos, you and Daemon have the perfect little love nest, hidden away from the rest of the world.
Warnings - 18+ Content, Smut, Masturbation, Oral Sex (male receiving), Praise Kink, Overstimualtion, Light Dom/sub, Fluff
A/N - (This was posted on AO3 awhile ago, now finally being posted on here.) Note about the Reader: Reader is of Valyrian descent, but is NOT related to either House Targaryen or House Velaryon. As always there is no description of the Reader's appearance so that she is as inclusive as possible. Enjoy!
Word Count - 2.1k
Daemon’s all over you. His lips, his hands, his body. Not an inch of you has been left untouched by him as he thrusts into you. Your nails dig into the muscle of his back as moans spill from your lips. Each thrust stealing the air right out of your lungs. It wasn’t the typical hard fuck you have come accustomed to whenever the two of you come together. It’s slow and passionate. Like he’s determined to show you how much you mean to him.
His mouth claims yours again, muffling your noises as his tongue slips into your mouth. He snapped his hips against yours harder and faster, his body grinding against your clit. The pleasure building up inside of you was becoming almost unbearable. You feel like you are on fire, your body quickly being consumed by the flames with each thrust.
You break the kiss, crying out his name for anyone who is listening to hear…
You wake up with a gasp, your heart hammering against your ribcage. For a few moments you just lay there, the dream continuing to linger on in your mind. You can still feel his phantom hands all over your body and you reach out for him, trying to find the man those hands belong to. Only to find that you’re alone in the bed.
You frown looking at the empty space. Daemon had already left you? Or had you actually been dreaming? Perhaps you had conjured up some fantasy after one too many goblets of Dornish wine. It wouldn’t be the first time. But if that’s the case, why are you naked? The silken covers are also on the floor, leaving you completely exposed to anyone who enters your room. And there’s that distinct smell of smoke mixed with riding leathers and metal that clings to the remaining bedding that only he ever leaves behind.
Your dream wasn’t just a dream, but that doesn’t change the fact that Daemon has seemingly left you. Not even a note to explain his disappearance. Typical, is all you can think. The way he leaves you to deal with yourself after your subconscious has worked you back up. You sit up in bed, looking around the room, seeing if you can confirm he has left completely. That’s when you spy Dark Sister, his favoured blade, still resting against the table that still has wine goblets and an empty bottle of wine on it. He wouldn’t leave that behind so he’s definitely returning to you. The only conclusion you can come to as to why you’ve woken up alone is that he has left to check on Caraxes.
Flopping back onto the bed, you close your eyes bringing your dream back to the forefront of your mind. You can’t be bothered to wait for his return. You trace your body with your hands, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples, rolling them between your pointer finger and thumb. You’re doing your best to mimic his touch, the way he likes to tease you. Not that it will ever actually compare to the real thing. You slide your hands down your body, fingers sliding across your thigh, as if to tease yourself, but in the end you can’t wait.
Your fingertips brush against your clit, the smallest gasps leaving you as you slowly apply some pressure, circling it. You slide your fingers through your folds and repeat your previous motions. You imagine that Daemon is laying next to you, whispering sweet nothing into your ear, as his hand teases you.
“Just couldn’t wait for me to return, hmm?” Daemon’s voice makes you jump. Your eyes flying open as you sit up and stop touching yourself. You don’t do anything to try and cover yourself up though. Nudity has never bothered you and you love the way that his eyes run down your body, stopping at your cunt. He’s smirking as he crosses the room, stopping at the foot of the bed.
“You shouldn’t have left me all alone then,” you reply, looking up at him through your eyelashes, pouting.
He chuckles and nods before leaning down to kiss you. You kiss him back eagerly, your hand coming to fist his shirt. You whine when he pulls away.
“I want you to keep touching yourself,” he tells you, voice low. “And you’re not to stop until I tell you to.”
You nod as he stands back up and moves away from the bed. You spread your legs nice and wide so he has a perfect view of your already glistening cunt. You start to touch yourself again, sighing softly. Daemon watches you with hungry eyes as you slide your fingers through your folds, parting them so that he can see your entrance before sliding your fingers inside.
He’s slow as he starts undressing himself in front of you. First goes his loose linen shirt, revealing his muscular and scarred chest, quickly followed by his boots and trousers. The sight of his half hard cock as you biting your bottom lip. He strokes himself to full hardness as he comes back to the bed, still watching intently as you finger fuck yourself. You expect him to slot himself between your spread legs, but instead he walks to the side of the bed and climbs onto it.
“Lay back and open your mouth.”
You comply with his demand, laying back against the bed and opening your mouth wide. Daemon slides his cock into your mouth and, without him asking you to, you start to suck, making him groan.
“Good girl,” he praises you. You love it when he talks to you like this. It always makes you feel so warm and bubbly inside. Which is funny, you think, as outside of this little love nest the two of you have built, much like your dragon, you listen to no one. Always going your own way and often doing the opposite of what people want you to do. The difference, that you have come to realise, is that you truly love Daemon and you want to make him happy.
You alternate between fingering yourself and playing with your clit as he slowly thrusts his cock in and out of your mouth. Meanwhile you’re using your free hand to play with your nipples. You moan around him, moving your hips as you grind against your hand. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag around him, tears brimming in your eyes. He wipes away the tears that start to trail down your face with his thumb, continuing to praise you in High Valyrian.
Your orgasm takes you by surprise and you come with a muffled cry. You fuck yourself through your orgasm and keep going, remembering how you’re not allowed to stop until he tells you to. Even after just one orgasm, you’re now super sensitive that it’s almost painful to keep touching yourself, but that pain soon gives way to more pleasure.
“That’s it, keep going,” he encourages you. His lilac irises are almost completely swallowed by his pupils as they flick between how his cock disappears inside of your mouth and how you’re playing with yourself. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tonguing the slit each time he pulls out. Daemon groans low and quietly, his eyes closing, head falling back. “Ñuha jorrāelagon,” he mutters under his breath. My love.
He never stops praising you. He keeps telling you what a good girl you are. How good you look taking his cock like this while playing with your pretty cunt. His words go straight to your aching sex. What you would give for him to stay here and keep talking to you like this.
Your second orgasm is stronger than your first. You pull away from him as it rocks through you, moaning his name loudly. He strokes himself as he thoroughly enjoys the sight of you coming. You are quick to lose count how many times you come after that. All of them blurring into one until you’re shaking from overstimulation.
“I”– you swallow thickly as you remove your hand from your pussy, –”I can’t,” you gasp. He shushes you softly as he pulls away and lays next to you. His hand comes to rest underneath your chin and directs you to look at him before he kisses you deeply. As he kisses you, Daemon gets you to move onto your side, bringing one of your legs over his hip. The feeling of his still hard cock bumping against your puffy lips has you gasping. It’s also a reminder that he hasn’t come yet and you know his preferred place for his seed. It’s his favourite way of claiming you as his.
“You’ve done so well for me,” he says, tracing random patterns on your skin before carefully playing with your nipples, gauging how sensitive you are there. “Just one more?” he requests. “Just one more for me? So I may feel that pretty little cunt squeezing my cock while I fill you up?”
You nod, eagerly. You’re unsure if you can actually come again, your body is completely exhausted, but you’ll try. Even if you don’t, at least the feeling of you wrapped around him, working your muscles so that he feels amazing. He hikes your leg up a little higher, opening you up to him more before taking hold of his cock and pressing the head of it up against your entrance. You hiss as he slowly starts to push inside of you, your overstimulated pussy protesting at the intrusion. Noticing, he kisses you to try and distract you. It works and he keeps kissing you, staying still once he bottoms out so that you can adjust to him. You moan into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his silver locks, your tongues sliding into each other’s mouths.
When Daemon finally starts to move he sets a slow pace, each inch of his cock, each vein, dragging against your walls and rubbing against that spot deep inside of you that has your breathing stutter.
“Daemon,” you moan, breaking the kiss. His lips are immediately on your neck, but he’s careful not to leave any marks. You both know better than that with how Westerosi politics are.
He pushes you onto your back, his hands coming to rest either side of your head as his thrusts get harder. Each thrust has you moving up the bed a little and makes your breasts bounce. You grip the covers above your head while his lips attack your breasts and nipples. He’s careful not to touch your clit, knowing that doing so will bring about more pain than any pleasure. His groans are deep and throaty as he picks up the pace. Pumping his cock in and out of you as he focuses solely on his own pleasure rather than trying to get you orgasm again. You squeeze your inner muscles around him, working his cock. There is a telltale stutter in his rhythm, so you do it again and again. Enjoying the noises that it forces out of Daemon. His groans and moans music to your ears.
There are times when he is extremely vocal while he fucks you. Every dirty word, both in the common tongue and High Valyrian, that spills from his lips as he takes you, reminding you that he’s the only one who gets to have you like this. Then there are times like now, where you have to work to get those noises out of him because he’s so focused on his actions rather than his words. Both times always leave you both sated and aching for even more. This morning has been the latter.
He chokes out your name as he buries himself as deep as he can as he does as he promised and fills you up with his seed. He then pulls out and rolls off of you, flopping next to you on the bed, breathing heavily.
Both of you lay there for a moment, soaking in that after bliss. You’re the first to move as you want to cuddle up against him, like you always do afterwards. You’re really starting to feel how tired and sore your body is now. The oversensitivity of your pussy makes you grimace a little. As does the feeling of his seed dripping out of you and onto the inside of your thighs. You rest your head on his chest, draping your arm over him. Daemon wraps his arm around you and presses a kiss to the top of your head.
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me, reading fluff: this isso c ute 🥹 i might–AAAHHHHH HE SAID IT!!
me, writing fluff: and they held hands or smth idk😐
conversely:
me, reading angst: no! oh no! poor baby! 😭why i am crying? this is fiction??
me, writing angst: Be seen only when necessary, and never heard. It was all that had kept him alive here. 👹
#percy's thoughts#fanfiction writer#fanfiction reader#angst vs fluff#i'm very good at writing angst#i am not good at writing fluff#the fluffiest things you'll find on my ao3#are teenage romance#and borederline or outright smut#but angst?#i can write the shit outta some angst#there are so many drafts in my notes for angst stories...
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