#tv show panic

[biggestsimponhere]

Be safe

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

➻ Synopsis: The second challenge of panic you watch your boyfriend dangle 50ft in the air and almost die, this includes your reaction, how he calms you down and also everyone else’s reaction to finding out dodge has a partner (not very much of the latter)

➻ Requests are always welcome!!!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .�� . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Panic. It’s a stupid game really, at least, it is to you. You thought watching your boyfriend jump into the lake from the high point was scary but it was nothing compared to this. The Granary. The challenge, walk across the metal beam between the two towers, it sounds simple enough except for the fact that the beam is clearly highly unstable. Drew goes, Shawna goes, Ray goes, Heather goes. Then dodges name gets called, you tense beside him but try not to show any emotions.

He heads up and starts walking like it’s just another day and he’s walking down the sidewalk. A green light just barely visible from where you’re standing shines up towards dodge, he falls, barely hanging onto the beam with one hand. Fifty feet. Fifty feet in the air. You hold back the scream of his name that wants to come out. He looks down then back up before he’s swinging his other arm to grab the beam too. He swings back up onto the beam skilfully. As soon as he’s across he’s down the ladder and walking fast.

You can tell where’s he’s going and you wouldn’t normally stop him but right now you can’t help it. “Dodge” He stops at the sound of your voice, he softens slightly, just barely visible. You walk over to him and wrap your arms around him. A few gasps come from the others but he ignores them all in favour of tightening his arms around you and burying his face in your hair. Sirens sound as police cars roll into the area. Someone shouts and everyone takes off. Dodge pulls you and heather off behind something before he sees natalie twist her ankle.

The three of you run over and help natalie up and into the forest. We run till we can get far enough to let natalie sit down. Dodge checks over her ankle to make sure nothings broken, you can’t help the twist of jealousy in your gut as she looks at him. They joke around for a minute as dodge makes her a makeshift wrap.

Natalie’s eyes drift from dodge to you. “So… i didn’t know you guys were together” You look down slightly embarrassed that you let the secret out.

“Yeah we were uh keeping it under wraps” Dodge answers as he moves from the ground to your side. Then Heather walks back over to tell Natalie that Bishop is on his way to get them.

The two leave soon after and dodge leads you out of the woods and down a side street to his car. He gets in the drivers seat and you slide into the passengers seat. You stare out the window as he starts the car and drives. You don’t say anything, the shock of the whole thing not having left your system.

“Do you want to come to mine or go to yours?” He asks, it’s a simple question but you’re still not sure how to answer. You don’t want to leave him but you also just want to curl up in your bed and cry.

“I-… i want to come home with you” You say quietly. He turns and looks at you as you continue looking out the window. He pulls the car to the side of the road.

“Look at me” He says softly, you turn slightly. He hooks a finger under your chin and turns your face towards him fully. The tear streaks are obvious on your face, he wipes them away softly, touching you like you’re delicate.

“What’s going on?” He asks even though he knows exactly what it is. You frown, he almost died and he’s seriously asking what’s wrong. “You’re really asking me that” He sighs, he knew that was coming. “I’m okay baby” He murmured as he rubbed your cheek softly. You nod, you know he’s okay but that doesn’t stop the ache in your chest.

“Come here” He coaxes you out of your seat. You climb over the compartment in the middle and into his lap. He holds you against his chest. You curl against him. You mutter something under your breath that he can’t quite make out. He hums and asks you to say it louder.

“You almost died” You say quietly as if saying it louder would make it happen. “I didn’t” he leans down and kisses your forehead. You breathe a little easier as you burrow further into his warmth.

“let’s get home baby” he says into your hair, you move out of his lap and he drives to his house. You go straight in passing his mom and sister in the living room and going to his bedroom. You practically collapse on his bed and you can hear him talking to them but you don’t know what he’s saying. He comes in a few minutes after and changes into his pajamas.

“Do you want something comfier to sleep in? Jeans aren’t the best for sleep” He says as he digs through his drawer. You nod and he passes you a tshirt and a pair of his sleep shorts. You change and climb back into bed, he follows. The two of you practically meld together. “I know you’re scared but i can do it” He murmurs into your neck. “I know you can i just- i can’t lose you” You bury yourself in him, almost like you wish you could crawl into him.

He softens at your tone and pulls you closer. “You won’t lose me. I promise” he presses a soft kiss to your hair before the two of you drift off.

[artsangell]

[traumatrios]

the name of the game

pairing… dodge mason x fem!reader

wc… 2.3k

summary… you don’t talk to strangers— but there’s something different about dodge. was it his charm? his looks? or the way you couldn’t get him off of your mind?

warnings… ends in smut, face riding, drinking (not drunk sex), iconic red cowboy boots, brief pain pleasure, dodge is soooo delusional

josie’s notes! um i kinda don’t remember how panic ended for dodge (i finished it a week ago) so take the beginning plot with a grain of salt

otherwise enjoy my lovelies ❤️

Dodge didn’t have many friends to begin with, but with most of the kids his age out of Cape and attending college, he did feel quite lonely. 

He’s not a stranger to the fact that college wasn’t in the cards for him– he had too many responsibilities. He knew his sister could very much take care of herself, but lazy Sunday’s on the couch next to her was where his heart truly belonged. 

His mother needed help managing the restaurant, because as much as she prided herself for her hardworking motherhood and independence, he saw the breath of relief she had whenever he was there.

He was perfectly fine as a blue collar working adult. What did he need college for anyway? It was too expensive, especially after the necessary but monetarily disappointing ending to Panic. He was too old to apply now.

Dodge took his time off of working at his bar to nurse the foam of a beer from another in a neighboring town. 

Was this really what his future was? He was dangerously nearing a seat in the same boat as the men surrounding him in the ambience of the dive bar: old (21) with a family at home (he was unattached with a sister and a single mother 5 minutes away from his apartment). 

Dodge might as well accept it; this was his destiny.

But the glimmer of fate came to him through a vision he wasn’t sure whether he was imagining from the wild dreams in his head or the material of a Playboy magazine. 

The mechanical bull sitting in the middle of the recreational space of the bar with a pretty girl attached to its saddle.

Dodge couldn’t tell if you were a saddle bronc rider (like himself) or just intensely familiar with your hips. You rode the mechanical bull like it was a kids bicycle with training wheels.

But with how you grinded against the fur of the mechanical bull with the rhythm it was bucking, he landed on the latter.

It was entrancing to look at, he admitted. The winks you sent into the collecting audience only strengthened his hopes of getting one shot at him. 

The mechanics continued to whir and spin you around, pathetic attempts to throw you off of the attraction you were obviously very skilled at riding. Have you been here before? Has he just never noticed you?

How could he never notice you.

Before he knew it, Dodge was leaning against the inflatable rim of the attraction, eyes wide in awe of your performance. One hand gripped the braided rope attached to the nape of the bull’s neck whilst the other waved in the air freely to your girlfriends, who had been screaming your name in the same way Dodge heard it yelled by paparazzi during award shows his sister watched on the weekends through the television.

The moderator of the attraction seemed just as impressed as anyone else watching you, even holding the twinge of suspicion some kept in the quirk of their brow. A crowd eventually formed around your performance, whistling and cheering you on as the meat of your calves squeezed the sides of the bull’s stomach.

Dodge thinks he heard a “yee haw!” come from the intoxicated group of guys (no younger than 30) stuffed in a booth attached to the wall facing your ass.

Bright digits flashed on the screen beside the control booth, announcing the new high score of Big Star Bar. 2 minutes and 36 seconds.

As you unmounted the artificial bull, Dodge didn’t pull his eyes away from you like the rest of the crowd did. You weren’t a one hit wonder, he had to know your secrets. What was a girl with hips like yours doing in a random dive bar in Texas?

Dodge wasn’t sure how to approach you, especially after losing you in the crowd of girls in identical cowboy hats and guys in flannel. He was lucky enough to skin his eyes over the bar and spot your sparkling red boots tapping and gliding against the dingy dance floor.

The boy filed through the crowd until the heat in the air turned from heavy to sweaty dance floor heavy. 

Dodge scanned the horseshoe— painted? —on the back of your jean jacket and how it paired with your cowboy boots. It felt like something out of a movie, seeing your outfit.

“This your first rodeo?” he greeted, though from his stance behind your back, he wasn’t surprised by the small jump in your shoulders. But when you turned around, you were just as beautiful up close than you were on that damn bull. Dodge noticed the thick pieces of glitter scattered across your collarbone and how it seemed to match with the other girls in your party.

“Sorry. I don’t talk to strangers,” you shrugged, offering Dodge a friendly smile in apology.

Your gaze didn’t even falter or scan him, just unwaveringly looking him in the eye before you turned around again to chat with your friends. 

“Aren’t those the most fun to talk to though?” Dodge tried, and god did it form a pit in his stomach to feel like one of those guys that pushed for a girl's attention— a bad guy.

This got you to turn back around again.

Truthfully, his looks were hard to deny; especially with that ivory colored cowboy hat on his head. Otherwise, he wore a navy tee with a pair of dark jeans and black boots; the simplest thing ever. 

One hand was stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, the other tapping its digits against the sweaty glass of a bottle of beer. 

“Do you really wanna talk? Grandma taught me that boys like you never want to just talk.” 

Dodge couldn’t fight against that, not confidently at least. He knew he didn’t want to just talk, but he also didn’t know what else he’d want to do. Is this what being in limbo felt like?

You gave Dodge the grace of a second before pointing an eyebrow at him and turning again, only this time walking off with your friends to a different corner of the bar.

Dodge was too stubborn to talk growing up, and in this moment— and only this moment —did he curse himself for doing so.

In Cape, everyone was a regular. 

It didn’t matter where you went or with whom, you were known better than the alphabet.

When Dodge came into town, he became a regular. In most places, at least.

He knew you weren’t from Cape because you weren’t a regular here. Which is why he was surprised to see the same red heels he’s been dreaming about since the weekend stroll into the establishment he worked in.

You knew what you were doing, of course. You knew about Dodge Mason because Gina knew about Dodge Mason, and she knew about Dodge Mason from her boyfriend Daniel.

That’s how you got here, wasn’t it? But, Dodge didn’t need to know that.

He didn't need to know how your girlfriends teased you for playing hard to get or how you began sweating just from looking into his piercing eyes.

And when those piercing eyes caught the sight of the painted horseshoe on your back, he thought it must be my lucky day.

As you sat at the bar, Dodge couldn’t think of any other way to praise whatever god trailed you in here rather than repeating the same ‘thank you’s in his head.

“Evening, lucky,” he coined the nickname from the symbol. You fought a smile at his wit, instead rolling your tongue along the flesh of your lip. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you sir?”

Dodge chortled at your act, but your face stood unwavering. Your tits looked perfect while pressed against the bar, but Dodge managed to pull his eyes a little higher to see the small tick in your neck signaling your so-called ‘confusion’.

You must’ve not liked his silence, because you picked up the silence with a small sigh and your order.

“May I have a shirley temple with just a dash of lime juice, please?” you batted your eyelashes at the unconvinced boy, being met with the playful roll of his eyes. 

Despite himself, Dodge began to concoct your beverage. You were strange, he thought. Where did you come from? Were you visiting? Would he see you again if nothing came from this conversation? How would he be sure?

He had to make sure this one counted, not like that pathetic excuse of conversation at the bar. The clicking of your nails rippling against the waxed bar behind his back mimicked the ticking clock– he might as well shoot a shot. Perhaps it was an easy target, especially with his luck sprawled against your back. 

“Did your grandma also teach you these manners?” Dodge planted the highball in front of your impatient hands. You took a look at the glass, then him, then to the glass again, where your eyes stayed as you tasted the drink. The sugar spreads across your tongue, satisfying its parched state.

“I still don’t talk to strangers,” you said, but the smirk that played on your face told Dodge something different. Your game wouldn’t fool him, not when you drop it just as limp as that. Did you want him like he wanted you?

You two weren’t strangers, no, he knew you were meant for something more. 

“So you admit to it,” he turned his head from the focus on your drink, only to catch your face hot with guilt. He chuckled to himself at your game.

“We ain’t strangers. This is our second meeting, perhaps fate is sending a message?” God, when did Dodge Mason become so sappy? He was grasping at the ends of a rope he wasn’t sure you were on the other end of.

But then you smiled. You smiled and twirled the skinny black straw around the ice of your drink. “And what message would that be?” you challenged.

Dodge leaned his elbows on the dark oak of the bar. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue before his proposal, or rather, ‘the message’. “You should come home with me tonight.” He kept it at that; simple and charming. 

You giggled like a schoolgirl at his confidence. By the looks of it, he had been a lustful young adult, admittedly like you, with maybe a studio apartment. Your mind could only think of one thing he planned to do if you accepted the invitation, and you knew it wasn’t puzzles and lemonade. 

Were you opposed? Not entirely. 

“And what would this night entail? What do I get from entering your home? You gon’ drive me home after?” You matched his stance, leaning forward on the folded elbows you stuck to the waxy countertop. Dodge felt a stream of intimidation flow through his veins at the way you pointed your eyebrow at him.

“Might have to come to find out,” he replied, swiping his tongue over the toothpick that hung from his mouth. You couldn’t restrain your eyes from flickering down to the pair of lips. 

You were sure the sharp metal of his handle left a burning mark when he pushed you against it in the barren hallway of his apartment building. But with the incessant kissing of his lips distracting your mouth– and eventually everything else –it didn’t matter much to you anymore.

Your frame had been stripped of all fabric, laying in addition to his in the ratty hamper dejected in the corner of his room. Soon enough, he was insisting on a third round to cure the burdens of his barren tongue.

“Wanna see how you ride up close, baby,” he reasoned through a hushed tone, kissing the clammy skin of your temple.

How could you refuse? Especially when his hands began to rub those soothing circles into your hips and the tip of his tongue licked the shell of your ear during the whisper.

When he was prodding his tongue into your entrance a few minutes later, you knew it was the right decision to follow him out of the door. With your tits bouncing underneath the warm light thrusting through the ceiling of the sauna he called his room, Dodge took it upon himself to bruise your skin of this (rather heated) interaction through two large grips of his hands on your ass whilst you fucked his face. 

Dodge’s curious tongue soon turned into a hungry one, accompanied by the brief scraping of his teeth against the puffy lips of your pussy. The small bumping of his skull against the wooden headboard spurred him on rather than slowed him down, and you hoped the string of moans and mewls coming from your mouth were enough gratitude to satisfy his desires.

Due to popular demand– a loose request that fell in pieces from Dodge’s dumbstruck position underneath you –you wore his cowboy hat, glaze sticking from your hairline onto the weaved material. Dodge didn’t mind, in fact, he reveled in the thought of that same sweat mixing with his own during a rodeo. Dripping down his face just like how the sudden flood of your sweet juices were coating the stubble on his chin and the point of his nose. 

Dodge lived up to his word the morning after, tapping the ends of his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel to the tune of Bruce Springsteen’s voice singing “Glory Days” from the beaten up radio of Dodge’s Cadillac. Summers' heat wavered through the air of Cape even when Dodge drove past the speed limit on a lonely road. 

When you arrived at the doorstep of your grandmother's house, Dodge didn’t worry about the possibility of seeing you again, only admiring the way you swayed your hips and clicked your heels against the pavement during your strut. The corners of his lips pulled up into something that was not quite a smirk. 

He liked how your game was turning out.

traumatrios, 2024

divider by @saradika-graphics !

[sunsburns]

thinking about good ol’ dodge mason who is utterly in love and very much obsessed with you, his hot girlfriend. and i’m talking head over heels, would do anything, and everyone needs to know who his girlfriend is and how much he loves and adores you and.. well, how he gets to fuck you.

he keeps photos of you and him in his wallet. and he rotates the pictures around every week or so, and takes a new one of you whenever he can. it’s definitely not in a creepy or perverted way. totally not. just in a way that he can see you when he's away, or jerk off to something when you're gone.

he just loves to show you off, can’t believe a girl like you would be down to be for a guy like him. how you saw him in a crowded room, how you want him around, how you kiss him gently as the sun rises, how your laugh makes his stomach turn and cheeks flush, how you say his name in bed like he’s the only person in the world you know. the breathless, whiny moans of his name, slipping form between your lips, getting caught in the back of your throat. yea, he loves that shit.

[jesuistrestriste]

happy holidays to these pictures of mike faist specifically

[celestewrote]

Bridgerton: Colin and Penelope

thoughts of him whispering to her causes excessive blinking

[nerd4music]

THE WALKING DEAD: THE ONES WHO LIVE | S1E2: Gone

[dancingdaffodils08]

My Mike Faist brainrot is killing me.

his rodent like demeanor has captivated me.

[seaglassdinosaur]

Hoping wishing praying begging that Kenny doesn’t get put in a relationship with a cop.

[ecnmatic]

PANIC (2021) Season One created Lauren Oliver.

[thekaina]

YOOOOOOOO 😭😭😭😭🏳️‍🌈

[yomica12345]

Logan tugged Virgil into the cramped pod, his sonic screwdriver humming as he aimed it at the control panel. One hand pressed firmly against the wall, steadying the trembling shoulder beneath it.

“Virgil, you need to calm down. They can sense your fear,” Logan urged, his voice low but firm.

Virgil’s gasping breaths fanned against Logan’s chest, the closeness making every exhale impossible to ignore. With his hands braced on the wall on either side of Logan, Virgil seemed to fight for distance in the impossibly tight space.

The look in Logan's eyes softened, returning his sonic screwdriver to his trench coat he reached his hand to Virgil's chin. “I apologize, but this will help you calm down—quickly.”

Virgil met Logan's eyes with wide ones, tensing briefly as the other slowly leaned in for a kiss. 

When their lips met Virgil could feel the calm beats of Logan's two hearts, the two in sync with one another. The feeling caused Virgil's own to begin to steady, the kiss grounding him in a way he knew no human touch could compare to. As the gentle kiss lingered Virgil’s body began to melt and his cheeks began to warm. A whine of protest escaped him when Logan finally pulled away.

A crimson flush blossomed on Virgil’s cheeks as Logan chuckled softly.

“Better?” Logan asked, lowering his hand while his eyes searched Virgil’s.

Virgil hesitated, his fingers brushing his neck before he ducked his head against Logan’s chest. “Better,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper, carried away by the quiet murmur of Logan’s twin hearts.

[artsangell]

Art Donaldson big sad eyes

Like if you agree

[traumatrios]

southern manners, DODGE MASON

warnings… SMUT, dacryphilia, car sex, oral (fem!recieving), mean!dodge

josie’s notes! knee deep in the passenger seat? yeah. um whipped this up after reading @sunsburns new fic 😞 dodge agenda in action!!

“Dodge.”

It brings him out of his haze between your thighs, and though it was meant to grab his attention, you loathed the sudden absence of his tongue prodding at your entrance.

“What?” It sort of comes out in a spat, and you swear you could feel a couple prickles against your stomach from the moisture sprung from his mouth. You couldn’t tell if it was the wetness between your legs or his saliva, though.

You swallow before continuing. “Won’t someone see? Cars are made of windows, you know.”

He rolls his eyes at your protest, but then a smirk plays against his lips and assures you he isn’t really annoyed.

“Yeah, I know that. This is my car. Nobody will see you, sweetheart, jus’ trust me, okay?”

When he asks like that, how could you say no?

A couple more minutes go by with his fingers pumping in and out of your sopping cunt with the company of his tongue pressing against your clit, and you just lay there in the reclined passenger seat with your nails searching for anything to dig into. They eventually find the tufts of brunette hair that adorn Dodge’s skull.

His jeans stretch against his thighs and cause the boner tented at the apex of his thighs to strain against the denim more than usual due to the position he was in. Dodge held one knee on the floor of your side of his car with the other lunging on top of the passenger seat.

The knee laid in the middle of your thighs, building a barrier to restrict your squirming legs from pressing together. Instead, he felt the gummy walls of your pussy squeezing around his digits as they familiarized themselves with the ridges inside of you.

Your eyelids fought against the urge to squeeze shut from the pleasure he struck upon your quivering body, but the image of his shoulder blades sticking through the thin material of his t-shirt in his hunched state was too sweet to miss. They seemed to move with every nod and shake of his head against your cunt.

Soon, you felt tears begin to spring from your eyes, and the heaving of your chest was beginning to grow from the influx of emotion.

“Dodge… god— please,” you’d beg through growing sobs and it seemed to spur Dodge on even more. You assumed that from the harsh way his lips began to suck on your clit, but he was soon shooting up from your hips and looking at you.

You felt like you had shrunken under his glare. Dodge’s fingers, the same that had just been poking through your belly, gripped the sides of your chin in a piercing hold.

“Let me ask you one question,” he wet his lips before continuing, “do you want this?”

You nod, though the slick spreading against the flush of your cheeks was quite distracting.

“Then why the fuck are you crying? You that pathetic? Can’t even take my fingers without crying like a baby?”

You bite your lips, the salty tears collecting in the dip of your cupids box spreading across your tongue. You swallow again at the slight cock of his head. He wanted you to answer.

“No sir,” you blurt. Dodge knew how your manners caught up to you after all these years growing up in Texas, and god how he loved it.

But with the way red rimmed your eyes and streaks of tears were shining underneath the fluorescent lights of his car wasn’t helping with your case.

“Now you’re lying to me. Why would you lie to me, baby? Are you trying to hurt me?”

The questions were too much for your fucked-out mind, so all you could do was shake your head.

“‘S what I thought.”

Dodge wouldn’t admit it to you, or anyone, but he liked seeing you cry under his hand. The glistening tears that fell from your eyes felt like they coursed through his veins when they reached the tips of his fingers digging into your jaw. He couldn’t begin to imagine how you’d react to his dick inside of you.

Dodge just looked at you for what felt like forever, especially when your cunt was pleaing to be stuffed again. Dodge filled it with his dick, this time.

traumatrios, 2024

[sunsburns]

dodge mason snapping his belt. that’s all i have to say.

SMUT 17+ ; slight bondage; implied smut

i like to think it would be a way to tease you, where the sound of the snap is enough to have you excited, laying on your shared bed, leaning back on your elbows as you watch him standing by the edge of the bed.

he's putting on a show for you, from the moment he started to unbutton his top, leaving it half open for you to have a good look at his chest. then he went to unbuckle his belt, pulling them out with one swift movement and snapping them in front of you.

you can feel yourself smiling, from how he holds the belt with his teeth and starts pulling his shirt off, then pushing his pants down. his slow, taunting, movements while he keeps looking at you, his eyes never moving from yours.

then he starts to crawl onto the bed, smirking at you when you reach to take the leather belt from between his teeth with raised brows. "you gonna tie me up, cowboy?"

he chuckles, "might have to."

before he leans down to kiss you, he tries to take his hat off but you stop him. "keep it on for tonight. i think i'll be fun."

[jesuistrestriste]

♡ You're Such A Loser pt. 2; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡

nsfw (18+) cw: switch(dom)!art donaldson, switch(sub)!reader, reader guiding art through domming, begging, brief choking, slight hate fucking themes, orgasm denial, slight bit of tears/crying (he’s okay), oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, praise, degradation, creampie.

all that frustration from losing his matches has built up in him, and now Art is ready to let it all out. only because you’re letting him, of course.

word count - 2.9k

note : part twoo (part one) !! i hope that those who liked pt. one will like this part just as much :) it’s a lil bit of a switch in dynamic (pun not intended)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆.

He’s diving back into your cunt without hesitation, lapping at the remnants of your orgasm that have spilled and sprayed down your inner thighs. His arms are hooking under your legs so that he can bury his tongue deeper and deeper into you.

You groan deeply, running your fingers through his hair before pulling the locks taut in your fist.

“Yes, baby, just like that.. your mouth always feels so damn good,” you breathe out, moaning at his expert tongue skills.

As you gaze down at him, you can see the way that his eyes are squeezing shut and his brows are turned up in arousal as he licks at your insides. He lets out a pathetic whimper at your words of praise, which shoots a mouthful of vibrations up through your form. Your knees tremble, clamping down on his flushed cheeks, and you use your grip on his hair to guide him gently up to your clit. He takes notice of your cue, and moves his mouth up to suck your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasp brokenly and toss your head back, before looking down again to see his face.. and god, he is beautiful. His brows are still knitted up, but now his big aquamarine eyes are watery and looking up at you like a lost puppy. He was all yours. Just yours, and he knew it too -- in fact, he loved it.

“That’s it, sweetheart, doing so--mmf!--so well,” you moan out, using your hand to now stroke at the back of his head and give him a bit more physical stimulation. His eyes flutter closed at the feeling of your fingers brushing against his scalp, and out of habit he reaches up with one of his free hands and uses his middle and ring finger to brush against your dripping hole. Immediately, you wince at the contact, and he lets out a drawn out groan that you can tell is an incoherent plea for permission. You nod.

He wastes no time in turning his wrist so that his hand is palm-side up, and then his fingers are gliding into you without any resistance whatsoever. Your body is absolutely starved for him at this point, and you can’t do a thing to hide it. As he feels your insides wrap warmly around his digits, his eyes prick with tears while he continues to mouth at your clit.

He brings his head back, detaching his mouth from your body, and moves to look longingly at the way your fingers are sucking him in every time he pulls them back. Your slick is covering his chin and his lips, which are currently parted in arousal as he huffs and puffs from desperation. He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, relishing in the way that he can feel you clench and twitch.

“You’re so hot,” he whispers, not breaking eye contact with the point of connection between your body and his. He then decides to bury his two fingers so deep inside of you that they actually completely disappear. Next thing you know, he’s curling his fingers repeatedly in the “come hither” motion while he’s still buried up to the hilt. About thirty seconds of this is all it takes for you to get there.

“SHIT-! Oh my god, Art, don’t fucking stop, don’t stop, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m g’na-”

You manage to moan out a quick warning before your hips are arching into his touch, going completely still for a few moments. Then, wave after wave of your orgasm washes over you, causing your pelvis to spasm rapidly as you babble incoherent phrases of praise to your partner.

Art’s mouth is now completely agape, his eyes lidded, as he takes in the show of your orgasm, not stopping the movements of his fingers. You couldn’t really tell over the sound of your own vocality, but he was letting out tiny whines and whimpers from the way that your body was making his cock leak pathetically in his already-soiled boxers. He could barely hold his second orgasm off.. it was so damn hard.

After you collapse fully on the bed in an attempt to recover in your afterglow, sticky with sweat and panting heavily, you are now able to fully hear Art’s pure and unfiltered anguish. He’s moaning lowly as he glances from your cunt down to his clothed cock, which is jumping over and over in his underwear -- begging for attention. He then moves to pull his wet fingers from inside of your pussy, which allows for a few drops of viscous wetness to spill from your hole. Without hesitation, he lurches forward with his pretty tongue sitting gently on top of his bottom lip so that he can gulp down the taste of your release. He sucks and licks greedily at your hole, letting his eyes flutter closed as he grips his own thighs. He doesn’t want to touch himself yet. After all, you never gave him permission.

“You’re such a good boy, baby.. so needy and hungry for me, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly but shakily, his nose brushing against your clit as his mouth continues to relentlessly engulf your heat.

“You want me to let you cum?” you ask, knowing from his track record that he’s probably already on the edge.

He pulls back, licking at his bottom lip to not waste any of your taste, before he removes his hands from gripping his legs and instead places them to your waist. He digs his fingers into your soft flesh as he looks up at you from his position on the floor.

“Please, please, I’m already there-- just tell me I can and I will! I promise,” he gasps out, drawing out the second half of ‘promise’ to emphasize his sheer closeness. His brows are still turned up as tears start to well in his eyes. He’d cry if you said no, you knew that. The real question was: did you want to keep punishing him tonight? Had he had enough?

“Tell me how bad you want it, love.”

You could stand to be cruel a little bit longer.

He whines, his fingers clenching around the skin of your hips, as his pelvis continues to buck involuntarily.

“I want it so badly- I wanna cum- I’m so close, please please please.. I don’t know if I can stop it,” he moans, the slight friction of his cock against his wet boxers pushing him closer and closer to the point of no return.

“What if I said no?”

“Nooo, god, please don’t.. I’ve already made you cum.. I could prob’ly cum just from you telling me that I can.. can I? Oh shit, please-”

“I’ll tell you what: I’ll let you cum if you can take control for once.” 

He looks at you, confused, before trying to stave off his orgasm by biting down on your thigh as he lets out a broken whimper. You yelp, before stroking his hair, knowing that he was deep in an animalistic state of mind -- he didn’t mean to hurt you, he just was trying so hard to be good.

“Use your words, Art.” 

He releases you from between his teeth, before tears are spilling down his cheeks.

“I,” he sobs, “I can try.. but you know that I’m not like that..”

“I know, baby, I know. I want to teach you. Would you like to try that?”

He nods. He’d do anything to cum at this point.

You use your hands to push yourself farther back onto the bed so that your head is now close to the headboard. Art watches your every move, but stays as still as he can. He still wanted to please you, and didn’t want to do anything without your say-so. This was going to have to change within the next ten minutes.

You pat the bed’s comforter, and he immediately crawls up onto the bed and hovers over your form. His breathing remains uneven as his cheeks continue to flush with the torment of his delayed release. The erection in his boxers is still as stiff as ever, and you eye the way that it visibly jumps with anticipation.

One of your hands reaches up to comfortingly caress his face, and he leans into your touch.

“Breathe, honey, breathe. You’ll get what you want soon.”

He sighs, which almost turns into a moan, but he cuts himself off as you start to give instruction.

“Okay, first I want you to take off my top and bra. Undress me, understand?”

“Yeah,” he responds breathlessly, moving to pull your shirt over your head and unclasp your bra in under a minute. You were now completely naked, and he allowed himself the pleasure of drinking in the sight of your uncovered body. You were so gorgeous, it made his dick twitch.

“Good. Now, take off your boxers and shirt. I wanna see you,” you couldn’t help staying in a dominant headspace for a few seconds more.. it was just so fun to boss him around. He was so quick to follow directions, too.

He unsurprisingly does as he’s told, swiftly removing his gray tee and pulling down his boxers. At the sight of his bare cock, you bite your lower lip and place a hand on the back of his neck to guide him down to meet your mouth. You kiss him deeply, letting your own tongue lick his as he reciprocates with equal ferocity. He’s mashing his lips with yours, moaning into your open mouth when you pull back to switch the angle of your head. You bite down on his bottom lip before sucking it, which causes him to groan deep in his chest. Your hands snake to his lower back and you pull him down in one swift motion so that his body is now pressed flushed to yours as you continue to make out. A few more moments of this go by before Art knows that he has to speak up.. 

“I th-think I’m gonna c-cum,” he stutters, rubbing his hard cock against your lower stomach, “I can’t hold it, I cannn’t-!”

You reach down quickly and grasp his dick, which makes his eyes roll back into his low lids, and then you’re sliding it inside of your tight hole without warning.

“Nnghh-! I’m--fuck!” he sobs out, immediately spilling a thick, warm load inside of you. You let him thrust shallowly into you as he pumps you full of cum.

“Ah hah hah haah-!” he cries as he overstimulates his cock by continuing to fuck himself through his long-awaited orgasm.

As you watch his face with a smile and feel his throbbing dick inside of you, Art suddenly pushes himself up onto his hands so that he’s looking down at you. He’s gasping for more air but his brows are sitting low on his face and he looks weirdly upset.

You reach a hand up to his face, but he grabs your wrist with one hand and shakes his head without breaking eye contact with you.

“Don’t,” he breathes out, before beginning to thrust his spent cock more forcefully inside of you. Was he pissed that you had initially denied him..?

“Wha-”

“Don’t say anything, please,” he cuts you off, “just let me fuck you some more..” 

You close your mouth, feeling a new kind of heat swirl in your gut. There was something about his tone that was new for him.. there was a bit of authority in it. Art hangs his head as he groans, pulling his cock all the way out to the tip before slamming it back into you. The wind feels like it just got knocked completely out of your lungs, and you squirm on the sheets.

“You feel so good.. f-fuck, I’m already hard again,” he moans, a growl beginning to creep up his throat.

A moan escapes your lungs as you let your head fall back into the plush pillow, and then before you can fully comprehend what he’s doing, his hand is over your mouth. His elbow is resting by your neck as his palm covers the lower half of your face and muffles your sounds.

“I said to be quiet,” he says gruffly, now speeding up the movements of his hips. They snap back and forth with a renewed sense of fervor, filling you up with his heavy cock with every thrust inside of you. You moan, although muffled, and you can tell that your stifled sounds were driving him crazy.

“You did a lot of talking tonight, babe, now let me say something--” 

You drool under his hand, your mouth open and panting, as you try to focus on his words,

“I don’t get why you called me a loser when you’re my coach.. my loss is your loss- shit!” 

The tip of his cock hits your cervix as you clench around him, causing him to briefly lose his train of thought. He finds it quicker than you thought he would, though.

“So that means that you’re a loser too, aren’t you?” he spits out with gritted teeth, leaning down close to your face and looking deep into your eyes. You compulsively whimper and buck your hips up to meet his.

“Use your words, baby,” he mocks you from earlier, anger laced potently in his command.

He knows that you can’t talk coherently right now, and it’s not his hand that’s stopping you. He knows damn well that if he removed his hand from your mouth, you’d still be a slurring mess of moans and pleas for more beneath him. His cock was fucking you so well, and it was hitting all of the right places at all of the right times. You weren’t sure you were going to last much longer, and neither was he to be honest..

Before, he was in the mindset of a defeated, washed-up tennis champ, but now he was taking on the same persona that he did when he was in his prime. When he won back-to-back matches. He was a fucking beast.

“Mmmph-! Mm-!” your moans rolled around in your chest and were muffled by Art’s large palm as he continued to fuck mercilessly into you. You felt the cord in your gut being pulled taut.. ready to snap at any moment..

Suddenly, he pulls his hand from your mouth and groans, bringing it up to his mouth as he licks depravedly at your drool left behind on his skin. You whimper at the sight, and he follows it up with a similar vocalization before speaking down to you.

“You taste so good, baby, fuck fuck...” he pants, the movements of his hips becoming sloppier by the second.

he places his wet palm down across the center of your collarbones, and you groan lowly at the feeling, before you take his wrist and manually move his hand up to the base of your throat.

“please,” you whimpered. 

and he readily obliged.

Art squeezes gently at the sides of your throat, stifling the blood flow to your brain and initiating the spread of a pleasant fuzziness throughout your body and head that made your impending orgasm feel that-much-more intense. 

“you like that? you like when i choke you, baby..?” he moans, clearly enjoying the switch in dynamic as much as you were.

you nod immediately, trying to take in more oxygen as his fingers pressed deliberately against your pulse. then, he released you from his grasp like a lion drops a gazelle from its mouth before feasting upon it.

you take a huge, broken breath into your lungs before everything begins to feel like it’s getting too much .. everything feels too good right now.. 

“Honeyimgonna-mffphh!-imgonnacumpleaseohmygod” you couldn’t stop the slurry of nonsensical pleas and whines as you felt your orgasm getting ready to wash over you.

“I’m gonna give it to you so good.. i wanna fill you up.. you’d be nowhere without me, let’s face it.. if i didn’t win any matches we’d have no income.. so i’m not a goddamn loser.. i’m not.. i’m.. i..”

Art was becoming more and more incomprehensible the closer he got, and then he felt everything crash down around him once your orgasm started to rip through you and pulse around him.

“OH GOD! HOLY SH- OH FFFUCK! I’M CUMMING I’M CUMMING!” he shouts, unable to hold anything back as he fills you up again.

You feel the warmth and tingly pressure of his release spread throughout your cunt as you cum on his throbbing cock, your eyes rolling as your head tips back against the bed. You whimper and groan as you take in the feeling of your second orgasm of the night, and relish in the heat and aftermath of your partner’s third one.

After you both come down slightly from your highs, Art collapses in a sticky, sweaty mess on top of you as his chest heaves against yours. You close your eyes, smiling, as your hands move to rub lovingly at his lower back. As his head rests heavily in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, he slowly pulls his hips back and you whimper as the feeling of emptiness starts to rush through you in the absence of his length.

You could feel his cum oozing down your pussy, and you laughed softly at the sudden realization of the reality of your situation.

“You know,” you huffed, still trying to catch your breath, “i think you just came inside of me again.” 

he laughs.

“i don’t think i could have stopped that from happening..” he smirks, rubbing his soft but sensitive cockhead against the inner part of your right thigh.

“right, right.. all i’m saying is that you better not get me pregnant. you’re already a handful as it is.”

“You love it,” he whispers, picking up his head slightly to bite at your neck.

“Whatever you say, loser.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆.

guys, this took so long to finally finish up and that’s on me lmaoo

writer’s block had me in a firm chokehold n i didn’t like it

i feel like i ended this fic a bit quickly, but i think that can mostly be chalked up to sleep deprivation.

anyways, hope this quenched ur mike faist thirst for the moment, but i have more ideas that i want to write about asap.. so there’s definitely some more hot stuff coming soon hehe