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halcyone-of-the-sea · 3 months

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An Ode To Greed

Nikto x F!Reader || Smut Drabble W. An Utterly Down Bad Man (AKA Nikto)

No Dark Themes - Body worship, praise/dirty talk, p in v, edging, implied overstim, cunnilingus, implied somnophilia (but it's totally up to you), domestic Nikto, implied dom/sub & switch dynamics, etc. Minors interacting will be blocked.

Nikto was nothing less than an attentive lover.

Many days you found the man already done with the chores before you had the chance to get up—the light spilling through the curtains on his day off from KorTac. He was an early riser, the large Russian, always itching to move and to get his mind going. The mornings were organized, methodical, and always delicately thought out to the last detail: what cup he would use for his tea—black tea, of course, with lemon—to what he would clean first. Even down to the ingredients of the breakfast he would make you, leveled and weighed on the kitchen counter waiting for his experienced hand.

You left the cooking to him, and he never disappointed.

But…on the very rare days Nikto chose to sleep in, that body as big and as all-consuming as a bear rumbling right next to yours, it was something to greedily latch at like a cat with a toy. Luckily, your influence was the one thing that could always reduce the Russian to a panting dog in heat.

“Птичка,” Nikto grunts harshly into your ear, his hand grasping your hip as your breasts jerk along the mattress under you. Your mouth is open in a feral example of drunk pleasure, fingers kneading the ruined sheets. “Good girl, yes? Taking it so deep for us, this cunt.”

You whine loudly, eyes clenching shut as the sounds of wet rutting echo in your ringing ears. Your legs shake, backside up and chest stuck to the bed with Nikto’s shadow looming, repeating the action of grinding his cock in and out of your weeping slit one shove of his pelvis at a time. Everything about him was large, down from his appetite to his need for sex—you were always happy to feed him in whatever way possible.

Nikto’s hand rubs up and down your thigh, pulling himself back to grip the both of them tightly and watch, sweat dripping down his throat. The cold eyes widen at the sight of your pussy taking him down one increasingly fast thrust at a time, the shine of your slick staining his thighs, slipping down where it cools and adds to the dichotomy of temperatures.

“Speak,” he licks his lips, pushing your sleep shirt higher up your back with a flexing hand. He needs to watch. Nikto flights down a shaky breath, head tilting to the side as your walls tighten. The Russian groans throatily, clenching his teeth and bearing them like a mutt.

He’s been edging you for hours, a near-cruel way to see your eyes go glossy and drool to pool on the sheets. He almost gave in multiple times—particularly when he’d been tongue-deep into you, running his calloused thumb over your clit as your thighs trapped his head at your core. The remnants still drip from the divots of his facial scars, and he licks at the corner of his mouth to taste once more with a grunt of worshiping satisfaction.

Delicious.

When you can’t utter up more than a writhing whimper, nostrils flaring for air and lungs heaving, you hear his low chuckle before fingers grasp your chin firmly and pull. A tongue finds the side of your angled face as you’re trapped against his bulky chest, his arm strapping your side as the muscle leaves a long stripe of saliva over your jaw.

The angle leaves him thrusting up, and his free hand travels slowly from your waist to your pulsing bundle of nerves, tapping your flesh cunningly as he goes.

You moan brokenly through an agonizing electricity of senses, head snapping back to Nikto’s shoulder as your hips jerk; back arching as the tension in your body grows ever stronger.

You needed it—you needed to let go, feel the devastating breaking of your release slamming through you.

“Speak,” Nikto grinds out into your ear as tears slip from the corner of your eyes—teeth bite all along your neck, thighs smashing into the back of yours. All the while, rapid circles run over your clit, and the sounds follow a feral rhythm that would leave no question to anyone else as to what was going on in this bedroom. It was the way you’d been reduced to nothing but a toy for him to ring pleasure out of that made this perfect—starting so greedily that you’d had him all to yourself this morning; letting his eyes roll into the back of his head as you’d rode him, his arms shaking as his spend had filled you, spilling out over his lower body when he’d finally finished his broken thrusting.

“Nikto,” you stutter, biting your lip and feeling every inch of his cock bringing you closer and closer to an orgasm that you’d been begging for ages to let loose. “Please, fuck, please, I’m so close.”

“Да,” Nikto grunts, holding you closer as you quiver in a deliriously confused arousal, playing with you. He smirks, but you know the tension in his abdomen that builds and builds against your spine. The man pants, cruising out in growled Russian under his breath, heavy and hard. He barks, “Can feel it. We know your little squirms by now, hm? We know that way your eyes roll back—your pretty pussy, Птичка. She is too good for me,” Niko smirks into your skin, taking a deep breath as his fantasies take over, hot breath puffed into your slick flesh. “I can’t help but want to leave her begging one more time, just to watch how she will flutter.”

“Please!” You sob, hands clawing behind to grasp at the man’s head, shoving it further into your neck as your body tightens, legs all but numb. The Russian grumbles in approval, liking the way your nails drag his close-shorn hair. “Fuck, Nikto, please, I need it so bad.”

It was like you’d lost your mind and your dignity all at once.

“We know,” Nikto’s scars move up and down your back, and you can sense every rub and caress of them intimately. To have him in this way was as addictive as it was the first time.

Nikto bites more and more at your shoulders, nipping your ear and inhaling your scent—so much like a dog it was pathetic the way he was obsessed with your body; your orgasm. While you had no trouble coaxing one out of him in whichever way you desired, he always made yours a spectacle and a mystery. Rope, toys, blindfolds…there was only a limit if you said there was one, and that was something that only needed to be said once.

But there was something to be worshipped about the raw, animalistic, desperate fucking with Nikto that never seemed to get old. Especially when it was in your bed, especially when you had watched his cold eyes be blown wide by lust as his cock grew hard, especially when you could spend the rest of the day naked in your penthouse; skin on skin, switching dominance like a coin to be tossed.

Nikto was good at giving you exactly what you wanted, and not an inch less. So different from the standoffish brute that he showed to everyone else. Nonetheless, he was, you suppose, still that same brute—but your brute. And, fuck, if he wasn’t using you like a perfect deadly instrument in his arsenal, making sure you worked properly.

Your breath is cut off to gasped moans, lower body vibrating and cunt so wet that the sloping suck of Nikto’s stained cock was heard and felt far more violently.

The man’s gargantuan hand spreads from your flesh to press into your abdomen, and you sob loudly at the sensation of thin skin above the indent of a prodding mound; nails almost drawing blood from where they drag at Nikto’s head.

“Please,” you repeat as if a broken record. “Oh, Nikto, please, fuck—”

“Shh,” Nikto shushes, still abusing your clit before he presses his previously prodding hand above your heart, in the process, groping at your breast; kneading as you place open-mouthed and saliva-dripping kisses to the beast’s chin—a coy attempt to please him into allowing you your nearing release.

Nikto’s fingers push and pull, and your walls strangle him just right until his balls are betraying him, tensed and near bursting as he grunts and groans, all of his words a garble of gravel and sandpaper.

The accent, while it lets you know he’s just as desperate as you are when it gets like that, only makes the knot in your stomach flare with friction. You loved it when he was minutes away from breaking.

“Want to feel your heart stutter.” It’s more of a command than a suggestion, and your hips try to meet his rutting as best as they can, arms losing strength as the pressure mounts you as Nikto does. Voice a harsh grind, he accentuates his point by pushing you back down the mattress all the way, getting the angle he needs to pound into the softest part of your cunt as you keen so loud you’re thankful you have the place all to yourselves because you can’t stop making sounds you can’t be described. Your body is bent and pushed to the limit, sweat and the scent of sex potent in your nose.

Nikto fucks like it’s the last time you’ll ever take his cock.

“Want to know the exact moment you claw for air again when you gasp it all away, my Птичка. My sweet little Птичка. Drug to my senses, yes? Can never take cunt unless it’s yours,” his voice grows faster, breathier, English words slurring until he divulges into his mother tongue, losing all sense beyond how you suck him in and squeeze him—warm walls inviting and the only place to spill himself. He can’t even jerk off anymore; you’ve ruined it for him.

He needs to fill you up until he has nothing left to give: the only mission that he’d complete time and time again with no complaints or second guesses. The only mission that mattered.

Nikto barks and spits, biting your flesh as you plead one last time.

“Tell me,” you all but shout. “Tell me I can—”

“Да!” Is the reverberating answer, and the way your body immediately responds is nothing short of utter devotion.

Your body seizes, shoving itself into the mattress as the headboard slams into the wall, arching and toes curling—the knot in your core snaps as if cut by a crude knife, sawing you in half as your release gushes to flood out of the ring of Nikto’s plug.

The Russian’s hand over your breast squeezes as you ride out your high on him, Nikto’s own orgasm rising to meet yours as it always does, only able to get off after he knows he’s done a good job of pleasing you. His scarred face buries itself into your neck, mouth open as his silent release is accented by the small, cut-off, grunt he gives with every slowing thrust. The joining of your flooded womb and his shining cock is a milky frothing of cum, sounding like someone slapping thickened water as the sticky juices are a testament to lustful need. They slip down your thighs, as Nikto licks and sucks on your skin, unable to slip himself out of you and your welcoming walls as they flutter.

With every tightening surge of your cunt, he instinctively grinds himself further into you again, and you whine as his lips finally find your mouth, tongue pushing inside, still tasting of your cum. Eyes rolling back, you let his tiny thrusts continue if only to hear his canid-like groans and feel the slap of his balls so close to your puffy clit.

You moan into his mouth as his teeth nip at your lips, sucking at your tongue before the ringing of your ears fades to hear his growls between the wet gasps.

“Get a good taste of us. I’m greedy, yes? Hungry. No worries…you will be our завтрак.”

The rolling over of your body and the spreading of your legs is all but expected, and you lay there with a smirk rising to your sweaty face as the monstrous man slips downward and slots his face right back where it belongs: shoving itself up against your fucked-out cunt, Nikto’s cum slobbering out and mixed with your own.

The first swipe of his greedy, fat tongue has your shaking legs curling around his head as he shudders in arousal, grunting out muffled words as you whine and slam your head back to the pillow.

“Вкусный.”

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

A/N: Literally idk where this came from but, I guess, take some Nikto smut lmao - still writing my reverse Price AU, but this hit me like a truck out of nowhere. Forgive me if this is literally horrible - I wrote it at 10, and I haven't written smut in a hot minute, lol

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andysorbit · 5 days

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The Rock of Gibraltar (M)

Hard dom!Jeno x Fem!reader

Please support by reblogging!!

Minors, fuck off.

word count: 1k

warnings: overstimulation, CNC vibes, oral sex, penetration (reader receiving) dacryphylia, he's a hard dom and he's a lil mean, spitting, face slapping, degradation, many cream pies yay 🙂‍↔️

note: hi idk this just happened but hooray to my first fic after my url change! for those of you that may not know, I am Andy from neoculturecollectives :)

also, @sharonxdevi this is for you my dear 🙂‍↕️

Your thighs tremble as Jeno greedily laps and sucks at your cunt. His arms circle around your thighs and pin you down firmly; the lewd sounds of his greedy mouth mingling with your weak cries for mercy.

But Jeno isn't merciful.

Jeno likes to gaslight you a little. Always knowing how far is too far or not far enough, he gets into your head and stays there; torturing, teasing, manhandling. He reduces you to a sobbing, drooling pile of flesh and bones with a heart that only beats for him. He'll tell you anything and you'll take it as gospel and when he decides to, he'll tell you something else and that's just how it is.

He kisses your cunt sloppily, tongue flicking over your clit as your wetness slicks up his chin. You reach down to push his head away and he lets you.

He even lets you weakly drag yourself away from him inch by inch. You whimper as you move, thighs trembling violently as they clumsily help you scramble back. Jeno sits up and smiles wickedly. He palms his cock through his black boxers as he watches you.

He likes this game of lion and lamb. He likes the fight; he relishes in the way he gets to wrestles you into submission just because he can- because he knows you'll struggle against him but let him win because you love his power.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going? Huh?" Jeno chuckles. You make it to the headboard and relief washes over you as you savor however many more seconds he's giving you before he continues his torture on your trembling body.

"Daddy, I- I- I-"

Jeno rolls his eyes, "Daddy, I- I-I- Oh God, give it a rest, would you?" he says mockingly. You bite down on your bottom lip and squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation.

"I asked you a question, baby... You can answer me like a big girl," his voice floats into your ears sweetly, tightening your tummy and comforting you. You open your eyes and find his trained on you.

"Daddy," You whimper. "Yes, princess?" he hums. "I... I don't... remember..." You say between hiccuped breaths. His smiles softens and you release the last of the tension from your body, melting against the mattress as he looks you over with unassuming eyes.

"You don't remember what, sweetheart?" he asks you gently. He still hasn't touched you and your muscles have slowly stopped twitching.

"I dont remember your question, daddy. M'sorry," You warble. Jeno sighs dejectedly, "I'm always right about girls like you but I try my absolute best to give you the benefit of my very big doubt but you don't make it easy."

He grabs ahold of your ankle and you yipe softly as he slowly drags you back down to the edge of the bed, "Girls like you are so fucking stupid. Just the thought of getting stuffed shuts down your basic critical thinking. It's call and response, Y/n. That is as basic as it gets. Daddy calls, you respond," he patronizes; still pulling you back to him agonizing slow, "Now I asked you, where the fuck you thought you were going... I didn't tell you to move and I'm fucking positive that I didn't hear you ask me for a damn thing."

You cry softly, "Daddy... please. I can't take another one. S'too much..."

Jeno's brooding eyes roll once more, "I don't believe you and if you're smart, you can tell me why I don't."

"Because I'm... I'm a whore."

"That's right... and?"

"And a whore doesn't stop until daddy wants to stop."

Jeno nods slowly, "I love it when that lightbulb goes off for you. I hardly ever get to see it happen but you look so pretty when you use your brain."

You sniffle as he finally pulls you back down to him completely and hovers over you. The chain adorned around his neck sparkles and you look at the pendant with your initials accented with tiny diamonds before it rests against your clammy chest. Jeno places soft kisses against your throat then up to your mouth, "Open your mouth nice and wide for daddy," he breathes. You do as you're told and he spits into your mouth.

A chill rages through your body and he does it again.

"I'm gonna be nice to you- just this once, okay?" he chortles.

You nod and his hand comes down across your cheek before grabbing your face roughly; he leans in almost close enough to press his mouth to yours, "I can't hear a fucking nod, Y/n- I said I'm gonna be nice to you but I never said I was gonna let you disrespect me. If I ask you a question, answer it. Your mouth has to be able to do something besides suck my dick."

The pain goes right to your abused pussy and he knows it. His free hand eases down between your thighs and he strokes you again.

"Daddy," You sob harder. You know he has no mercy and he pulls you up into a seated position; your upper body totally supported by him as he begins to drag one more tortured orgasm out of you. Tears stain your cheeks as he smiles devilishly.

"Daddy... oh my God," You cry. Jeno drags his tongue up, up. up; collecting your tears on his tongue with a deep chuckle, "One more. Show me how strong you are and take one more."

You whine, "Ye- o- ok-ay... Okay- dad-dy," You sputter out. "That's my good little whore. One more and daddy's gonna turn you over and fuck that used little pussy."

You cum hard and broken; sobs rattling your body as Jeno's fingers come to a stop. He doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath before he's turning you over onto your stomach, "Ass up," he growls, "Arch your back... Just like that. Show off like you did earlier. Show daddy."

You obey his commands and leave yourself completely exposed and at his whim; flinching when his hand comes down hard on your ass, "Look at daddy's little fuck toy." Jeno grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you up onto your knees. He doesn't give you a moment to brace yourself as he drives his cock into soaking wet heat. You cry out again; head lolling to the side as he fucks you relentlessly. The head of his cock nudges deliciously against your cervix with every merciless thrust he delivers.

"You feel how deep daddy is? I know you do. Nobody’s cock can reach that deep like mine can. You were made for me. This is all you'll ever be good for, Y/n. Just a hole to fill with my cum."

His voice drifts into your ears and you nod in agreement; too fucked out know your up from your down, you try you best to say something to him.

"Dad- dy- fuck... Th- ank- you- dad- dy," the words tumble out of your mouth slowly and they feel as if they're not even coming from your own mouth.

Jeno laughs wickedly as he circles an arm around your neck and shoves his free hand between your thighs; fingers massaging your sensitive clit. You try in vain to push his hand away from you.

Jeno, being your immovable mountain, continues his attack on you with no effort at all. He's a powerhouse, using any opportunity to subdue you; he gets off on watching you struggle to free yourself. You both get off on it.

"Daddy! Please, daddy... I can't... I-"

"Oh shut up- you fucking love this."

And he's right.

You do so nod and you sob and you relish in the tightening of his arm around your neck as he brings you closer to another nearly unbearable orgasm.

"Daddy!"

The word comes out as a plea and as a thank you. Jeno knows you appreciate this. He does too. He also knows that he's finally broken you and that if he goes on, you'll need the safeword so he does what made you fall in love with him in the first place:

He begins grounding you so he can put you back together until the next time.

"You did so well, kitten. We're gonna stop now, okay? Count down from ten with me, okay? I'm so proud of you."

#andysorbit #nct smut #nct dream #nct dream smut #jeno smut #jeno #lee jeno smut #nct hard hours #nct hard thoughts #nct dream hard hours #nct dream hard thoughts #kpop smut #nct x black!reader #kpop smut for black girls #neoculturecollectives

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the-scandalorian · 1 month

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Pairing: Din Djarin x female sex worker!reader Rating: E, 18+ Word Count: 3.1k Content Warnings: touch-starved Din; reader is blindfolded; smut Summary: Mando makes regular visits to the healing baths. Note: A big thank you to @frannyzooey for always enabling my depravity and finding the dope ass images for my header ❤︎

He always waits for you inside the door.

“It’s the least I can do,” he says, when you’re surprised by the unexpected touch the first time. A light hand cups your elbow, guiding you to the middle of the room, until you can feel the smooth tiles that mark the edge of the sunken pool with your bare toes.

The marble is slick with condensation, heated by the same geothermal source that warms the spring water. The air is steamy and humid, braided with the rich scents of cardamom and argan oil, of rose from the petals you know are strewn across the surface of the bath. Candles flicker languidly in the shadowy corners of the room, but you can’t detect any of their light.

When you lower yourself to the floor—carefully, blindly—he checks the tightness of the black silk wrapped around your eyes with gentle fingers. He reassures himself it’s secure, that you can’t see a thing through the fabric in the dark, hazy room. A reassurance he needs every time.

You come to expect it. To expect him.

He’s consistent. He’s hesitant.

It takes dozens of visits before he lets you join him in the bath. You always offer; he always refuses—politely, always so politely: a no, thank you, eventually paired with a fleeting touch. A warm hand placed over yours. Two fingers stroked down the red silk of your dress. If you’re lucky, a squeeze to the thick of your thigh or a graze of your cheek. His denial is so soft, so warm—so regretful—that you ask every time just to hear him want it.

When he inevitably says no, you sit behind him on a velvet cushion on the edge of the pool instead, swathed in the inky blackness of your blindfold, your feet dangling in the warm water, and work scented oils into his skin and tension out of his shoulders, his neck, his arms, his back, his chest. Your existence is reduced to tactile information, your world narrowed to the sensations in your hands—the textures at the tips of your fingers. The taut muscles of his shoulders, the raised scars that litter his arms and chest, the hair dusted over his pectorals, the callouses on his palms. All slick with water, slippery with massage oil.

The helmet stays on for the first handful of visits. You know by the modulated sound of his voice, by the brush of beskar against your wrist when you work a knuckle into the base of his stiff neck. It disappears somewhere around the tenth visit. When he meets you at the door, your name sounds markedly different. You don’t mention it, don’t draw attention to it, but you do enjoy the unfiltered, raw quality of his voice from then on.

The noises he makes when you touch him are always better than you remember. Their tone and cadence mark a gradual progression from high strung and uneasy to mellow and sedate as the tension coiled in his muscles dissipates under your hands. The harsh exhales devolve into low groans, quiet grunts. Sounds of pleasure waited too long to be had, of physical release so desperately needed. Every once in a while, when you work out a particularly stubborn knot, he murmurs a hushed, rumbling oh, fuck.

Once, when you earn a delicious moan paired with a strained, needy fuck, just like that, he bites off the last word so harshly that you know it was involuntary.

It turns you on more than the touch of any client ever has.

Even with the blindfold, you can feel the burn of his eyes on your skin. Its weight is familiar from the start, when you meet him at the entrance to the baths, the echoing stone entry hall with its gilded fixtures and branches of guttering candles. A balled fist rested on the counter, he nods at you in all his armored glory, a cordial gesture that seems to gain gravity and intimacy each time he offers it. The black visor follows your walk down the long hallway to your rooms, dips to your hips when he thinks you’re not looking. Heavy, substantial. Pressure that could be measured, harsh enough to leave an imprint in its wake.

It stays on you until you shut the door between you, leaving you in the antechamber to tie on your blindfold and him in the main room to undress.

When you knock and enter, you can still track his gaze despite the layers of black silk—the feeling of it like a searing brand. Settled on your face when you smile up at him. Dragged over the curves of your breasts when you shamelessly tip forward to trail fingers through the water and they just barely begin to spill over the low cut of your dress. Trained on the movement of your tongue when you part your lips and lick a slow, gratuitous line over the bottom one. Riveted to the dark space between your legs when you spread your knees unnecessarily wide and the fabric of your thin, short dress rides up your thighs.

You tell yourself not to hope for more.

Then one day he shows up, and you can tell something is off. His usual steady, controlled energy has been replaced with a pent-up buzz. He’s worked up. You can hear it in his clipped words, feel it in the extra touches. The hand on your lower back guides you to the pool almost hurriedly.

His shoulders are even tighter than usual when you get your hands on them, his back a series of stony knots. He groans when you work at the tension in his neck, your thumbs digging into the tautness at the base of his skull. And when you offer yourself this time, feeling optimistic that you’ll get your most reluctant no yet, a strong hand guides you slowly and wordlessly down the smooth stone steps to join him in the water.

Reflexively, you pull your dress up and over your head, tossing it behind you before the hem can catch in the water. You lose his touch in the process, but a path of goosebumps down your body echoes the course of his gaze as it pulls along your curves. You can feel his attention, his captivation at your nakedness in the fervent tension that snaps taut between you.

His invitation is so unexpected, though, that once you’re standing in the hot, waist-deep water, you’re stunned motionless. Disoriented. You don’t know where he is for a moment; you feel his hot gaze everywhere, all at once. You never actually thought you’d get this far with him, and now it feels daunting—the darkness of blindfold, the ever-changing line of his limits and preferences. You feel untethered.

Until the water shifts and he touches you.

“Beautiful,” he says, damp fingers following the curve of your cheek so lightly you can only just feel them.

You take his hand in both of yours and kiss his palm, soft lips brushing over rough skin. He catches you under your chin, and one fingertip traces your lips, his other hand settling on your waist, flexing.

You don’t want to push him too fast, and you also want to take full advantage of this opportunity while you finally have it.

You part your lips, and his fingers still.

You let your tongue peek out to circle the pad of one finger, inviting. To your delight, he responds by carefully pushing two fingers into your mouth. When you close your lips around them and suck, he lets out a broken, pained sound, pressing down on your tongue lightly before he eases them back out and drags a wet line down your chin to settle his hand around your throat.

You smile up at him, unseeing, as you trail fingers down his chest, the soft give of his stomach, dipping below the water as you reach the ridge of his hipbone. Moving slowly, always slowly, so he can stop you if he wants to.

Sure enough, his hand finds yours, trapping it against his skin. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to," you interrupt. "I want to touch you.”

It’s an understatement. There isn’t enough time to share all the myriad ways you’ve fantasized about touching him.

“I’ve thought about this since the first time I saw you walk in here in your armor,” you say, letting your voice pitch low. “What you’d feel like under all that metal.”

His hand disappears, and yours slips further down the v of his hips to wrap around the base of his cock. Hard, thick, big like you knew it would be.

“I think about it every time I work my way down your chest. How easy it would be to slip my hands lower...to see if you enjoy having my hands on your body as much as I do.”

He breathes out slowly, but his whole body is rigid as you drag your other hand over his shoulder, down his chest, a granite statue under your touch even as you start to work him over in long, luxurious strokes.

“I’ve been dying to know, Mando.”

His cock twitches in your hand, his skin hot and slick as it pulls over his hard length. He isn’t relaxing into your touch like he usually does, and this white-knuckled, shallow-breath, penitent version of pleasure is not at all what you’d intended for him, what he deserves.

You tip your face up toward his. “I need you to relax for me. Can you do that?”

A rough exhalation. Noncommittal, a little wry.

You step closer, gingerly moving into his space. He lets you. The water shifts around you as you move into him, close enough that your breasts brush his warm body and you can place a soft kiss on his chest. His ribs expand in a rapid, deep inhale, a rough hitching breath, and his hand comes up to cup the back of your neck.

You press him backward with a palm to his sternum, and he resists reflexively, his feet planted firmly. A man not so easily moved. Who is used to doing the telling, not being told.

“Sit for me?”

He relents with a hum, going pliant for you as you back him up to sit on the submerged marble bench. He helps you climb up, strong hands guiding your movements, settling you onto your knees in a straddle over his lap.

You dip your head to find the crook of his neck and lavish open-mouthed kisses on his throat, below his ear, automatically respecting the limits of where his helmet would be, as you move your hand between your bodies. You’ve never touched above his neck and won’t change that now, even though you’re dying to trace the contours of his face, to fit your lips to his.

Perched over him, you can feel his body gradually relax under your attention, his posture softening, his breath dropping into a more natural cadence. His hands find your hips, your thighs, slide back to grip your ass, as you begin to increase the pace of your stroke.

“Have you, Mando? Have you thought about this?”

You feel him nod once against the side of your head. Jerky, frantic.

“Good,” you purr into his skin, letting your teeth drag over his collarbone.

He groans, his hips lifting off the bench to push himself into your grip harder. The heat that always simmers in your core when you’re around him grows and spreads. It’s overwhelming—so much of his bare skin on your bare skin, after so long with so little. Almost feverish as you move together in the hot water.

Your hand pauses mid-stroke; his hands tighten in protest, sliding you a tiny bit closer on his tense thighs. “Do you think about me?”

His ragged breathing stalls. He nods again. “All the time.”

You hum, pleased, and resume the tight pull of your fist. Your own arousal is approaching a blistering point, so hot and bright, and he’s barely touching you—one hand on your ass, the other dragged up your body to palm your breast, his strong thighs pressed to the inside of yours. He rolls your nipple between two fingers, and you gasp.

“Feel so good,” he rasps, the heavy weight of his hands reverent as they catalog the slopes and rises of your body. “Just like I imagined.”

You can’t help but think about how easily you could sit on his cock right now. All it would take is a slight shift and tilt of your hips and you could catch the blunt head at your entrance. He’d stretch you so deliciously—that girth and length—but your wetness would let you work yourself down onto his lap until he was filling you completely. You’d fuck an orgasm out of him, riding him until he found his release in the tight clutch of your body, milking his cock until he shuddered from the oversensitivity.

One day. Maybe.

He’s close—you can tell by the strain in his voice, by his ragged breath, by the way his hands tighten on your ass. By the way he wraps one large hand around yours on his cock, tightening your grip.

“Just like that.”

You’d give anything to see his face when you feel the urgent flex of his hips as he fucks into your joined hands, the jerk and shudder of his large frame as it curves over you, his forehead dropping to rest heavily on your shoulder as he moans brokenly through the pleasure. It’s the most intimate part of all of this—so human, so trusting. So tempting to reach up and touch his face, to put detail to what you’ve imagined so many times.

You regret that your hand is submerged in water, that you can’t feel his hot release slide over the dips and swells of your knuckles. That you won't be able to lick it off your fingers—to taste it, for your own pleasure and for his. To listen to the sounds he’d make as he watched you eat his come.

Instead, when it’s over, when he’s finished, the weight of his forehead lifts from your shoulder and his touch abandons your body. You resist the urge to search it out, to ask for it back.

You imagine how he looks unwound underneath you, his head tipped back against the edge of the pool, muscles slack. His body finally truly relaxed.

Your part is done.

He’s never spent this long here, and you imagine he’s hyperaware of that. Always on a timeline. Some small part of you thought maybe—hoped—this time would be different, that maybe he’d linger, that maybe he’d want to touch you. You slide backward off his lap to take your leave reluctantly, but when you reach blindly for the edge of the pool, there’s the sound of quick movement through the water and he closes a hand around your wrist.

Relief courses through your veins.

He doesn’t say anything, just guides you. You can’t tell what his aim is until he arranges your body over his just so—just the way he wants you. He has you straddle his lap backwards this time, your back flush to his chest, your knees opened wide by the spread of his legs between yours.

You think about what he does for work, the command and skill it requires. Those capable hands and sure grip have wrestled so many bounties into submission—into handcuffs, into rope bindings, into his carbonite chamber—and here they are exerting their power and ability for the sake of your pleasure. Blunt instrument, suddenly fine.

His breath is hot by your ear, his heavy hand settling meaningfully on your inner thigh. “Can I—?”

“Yes. Fuck, please—”

You guide his hand between your legs, desperate, and his mouth finds the back of your neck. His mouth. Stubble scrapes across your skin, soft lips molding to the contour of your shoulder. The heat that’s been building in your body, that started as a low smolder in your core, has been growing to a rolling boil the whole time you were touching him. And his mouth on your body? Like striking a match to gasoline.

The reality of the situation, the surprise of this touch, ratchets your arousal to a precipitous height. It’s the sheer brazenness of it—the unflinching way he’s taking such a huge step. In the name of your pleasure, of his desire to taste you.

The offering of such intimacy, a secret shared.

A warm tongue blazes a lazy trail from the notch of your vertebra to your nape as two fingers slip into the slit of your sex, beginning a slow massage of your clit. Your mind goes blank.

It’s almost embarrassing how easily he makes you come, how little time it takes with his hand between your legs and his lips on your skin. He fucks you with two thick fingers, another swirling over your clit, and you wonder vaguely how he knows how to curl the two inside you just right against your g-spot.

You reach behind you to grip the back of his neck as you arch, your hips circling. He hooks his chin over your shoulder and you go molten at the thought that he’s watching himself finger-fuck you to climax.

“Are you going to—?”

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Good.”

It's said through clenched teeth, a gritted jaw. He’s deriving so much pleasure from your pleasure, it's dizzying.

Teeth close over your shoulder and he bites down as you begin shudder and shake, as you clench and spasm around the thrust of his fingers—as you listen to his voice break on a groan as he feels it and draws it out—until the pleasure wanes and you melt back against him, boneless and sated, his strong body an anchor underneath you in the water.

You pant together, your head tipped back to rest on his shoulder, and all you can think about is how fucking close his lips are to yours. You could turn your face and kiss his jaw. He could angle your head and push his tongue into your mouth so easily. You’re so pliant; you want it so badly.

You consider asking. And then you consider the fact that he’s likely thinking about the same thing—your closeness is palpable, the tension a live, shivering thing—and he isn’t doing anything about it. He isn’t fitting a hand to your cheek to maneuver you just so.

You won’t ask for something he isn’t ready to offer.

When he finally does let you go, this visit that was so different from the others ends the same. He guides you back to the exit and hands you the robe that hangs by the door. As he helps you shoulder it on, he murmurs a sincere thank you, accompanied by a rumble of your name.

There’s one notable difference: as you're walking through the doorway, he catches your hand and squeezes it fleetingly before letting it drop.

The door shuts behind you with a click.

As always, a stack of credits far too high will be left in the room for you, and just like every other time, you’ll wait impatiently for his return.

#din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #mando x you #din djarin x f!reader #mando x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #mando x female reader #the mandalorian x female reader

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the-californicationist · 2 months

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Bright Ideas

I lost the original ask but here's what I copypasta'd. If this was you, tag yourself in the comments! Hope this is what you wanted.

What about an overstimulated Price that has been reduced to whimpering because he overestimated his ability to withstand his partner cockwarming him. 😉 ~~Idk, cockwarming's been on my mind and I'm trying to give you something other than traditional takes~~ but with anal

It was the middle of the night. Your husband, John Price, had woken you up again, wordlessly, with his groping hands and hungry mouth. He had started off gently, but it had changed. Moment to moment he needed more and more from you. By the time you were fully awake, he was squirting out slick lube onto his finger pads and dipping it between your legs, slathering it over your asshole, prepping you again.

Price had helped you learn how to do anal, and you’d really enjoyed it. He was so patient and gentle with you, and he showed you how to apply the pressure, using himself to do it, letting you rim him and finger him until he came from the pleasure. Needless to say, he was committed to your comfort.

But, this past week, he’d been ravenous. You hadn’t seen him like this in a long time, and satisfying his hunger had been a true pleasure for you. You loved him when he was just a bit unhinged.

“You alright, John?” You asked, your voice hoarse with sleep.

“Mmhm,” a grunt was his only reply. Then, when you felt his rosy head break through the first tight muscle of your asshole, he sighed, “Just… needed to be in you, love. Is that alright?”

He leaned over you, beginning to thrust in and out of your ass, missionary style, kissing your breasts and neck however his heart desired. You held onto his shoulders and grinded up into him, helping him reach the end of his shaft, stretching you out for the third time that week.

“Always,” you nodded, kissing him back, “Take what you need.”

So, he did. John sheathed himself inside of you fully, and sighed a long breath of relief as he settled into position. Then, he lay his head on your breast and you felt his whole body relax. The tension went out of his shoulders, the lines on his face smoothed away, and his breathing became steady and even. You pet his back, dragging your fingers and scraping him gently with your nails, making his skin tighten up with little goosebumps. His cock pulsed steadily inside of you when the pleasure of your touch became too much.

After a few minutes, he checked in with you, petting your hair out of your face,

“Are you feeling good, pretty girl?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Do you think we can try out your idea?”

A few nights ago, as you were basking in the afterglow of him fucking your absolute mind out in your pussy and then your asshole, John had suggested using your soft silicone dildo as a plug. He said he’d love to feel you full, in both of your holes, while he fucked you, and you readily agreed.

John smiled up at you now, eager to test his plans. He reached over your shoulder into the drawer and pulled out your favorite toy. It was thick and soft, and you liked clenching around it. Using the wetness you’d already made for him, he coated it in your fluids, slipping it through your folds over and over until it was soaked. Then, he pressed it into your pliant pussy, listening to the slurping, milky noises it made as he did so.

You felt his length harden and throb as he watched the toy disappear into you, and when he pushed up with his cock’s muscle, the toy moved as well, driving you wild. After a little teasing and an almost-orgasm, he slowed his pace, settling the dildo inside of you to its hilt and laying back across your body, content to warm himself in you again.

But, now you had a weapon.

You tested a small, brief squeeze, twisting the muscles inside of you against the toy. Immediately, John reacted,

“Fuuuuhh-ck. Fuck.”

His eyes were wrenched shut, and you saw the sinew in his neck and shoulders pop and shudder under his skin.

Beautiful.

You squeezed again, hard.

“Bloody hell!” He turned his gaze on you, fiery and rabid, holding himself up so he could brace himself. His hips betrayed him, trembling and thrusting into you in short, staccato bursts, somewhat against his will.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You said slyly, brushing your fingers over his cheek and across his open, gasping mouth.

“Feels…” You heard him start to speak, but you squeezed him again, harder than before, over and over and over, basically fucking him with your tight hole, “Oh, fuck! Feels good. Too good.”

“You want me to stop?” You knew the answer before he said it.

He growled his response through his tight jaw,

“No.”

Using your hips as a fulcrum, you twisted them down and back up again, using one hand to hold the toy in place as you slid yourself into his body. His cock was buried deep inside of your ass, and you could feel the head of him rubbing against your sensitive walls. His incredible girth made you feel full on its own. Now that you were stuffed with the dildo as well, you were swollen from his size.

All you could do was find a rhythm that you liked, squeezing and grinding, thrusting the toy cock inside of you little by little, all while cockwarming him in your ass. You were a wet mess, and you felt it, sticky and thick on your skin.

“Pretty girl,” John whimpered above you, “Please… I’m…”

“You feel so good, John.”

“Your tight little arsehole… everytime you… ahh! Oh, fuckin’ hell…”

He was still shaking like a leaf, holding himself together but barely, letting you get your pleasure first. You felt it building inside of you, sparking and spitting like a firework, and you warned him,

“Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes! Fuck… John, your cock. I can feel you, so deep in me. You’re gonna make me come.”

It was him who cried out first when you tumbled into your blissful release. He moaned softly, almost in shock, as your body wrapped your muscles around him and your toy as hard as it could, nearly squeezing him right out of you. His own core fought against it, pushing him up into you, holding him inside, making sure his seed would spill where it meant to. His biology was overstimulated and overwhelmed by your onslaught.

John had come with you, and you felt it pool inside your belly, slipping around his cock as he pulled himself from your tender asshole. He was gasping the whole time, his eyes red and full of wonder.

He collapsed next to you, barely able to catch his breath,

“Fuck.”

You giggled, swiping your tongue over his taut nipple and making him gasp again,

“Yeah. That was good, hm?”

“Too good,” he kissed your forehead and wrapped you up in his huge arms, holding you so tight you couldn’t escape.

AO3 Link

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x you #call of duty #captain johnathan price #captain price smut #captain john price smut #john price cod #x fem!reader #x female reader

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slayingfiction · 1 year

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Writing about body pain

Body pain happens all the time in real life. When writing your story, you want to bring your characters to life. By creating characters and an environment that is immersive and realistic (as possible), it helps your readers relate to your characters. This is a quick guide to body pain, that is especially useful for all those adventures your characters will be going on. No one survives a dragon attack or war without some kind of injury. At the very least, some muscle soreness.

3 stages of healing:

1st stage: Acute This is the start of the process after getting hurt. Depending on the severity, often lasts up to a week. Characteristics: severe pain, inflammation/swelling, dark bruises (red, black and blue), muscle weakness, muscle spasms, reduced range of motion.

2nd stage: Sub-Acute This is when your body is starting to heal the tissue by creating scar tissue to replace or repair damage. Can last several weeks Characteristics: reduced swelling, bruises are clearing (yellow, green, brown), range of motion is starting to improve,less pain than before.

3rd stage: Chronic This is the final stage of the healing process. It can last months, if not years. Your body is finally adapting to the changes. Pain is no longer associated with the injury, but instead how the body healed. Characteristics: no bruising, little to no swelling, mature scar tissue (usually tough, and harder to move than other tissue), pain is more of an ache, not sharp. If not taking care of, mature scar tissue can cause muscle tension and reduced range of motion. Pain mostly comes on at the end range of a movement, or with stretching.

Visceral Pain:

Visceral pain is organ pain. When one of your organs are causing problems, or are in pain, it typically feels more like a dull pain, or a pressure. The pain is usually vague, so it’s hard to tell where it’s coming from. Thankfully, visceral pain usually follows typical pain patterns, and you can easily find charts online. Example: Lung and diaphragm pain is usually around your neck and shoulders.

Nerve pain:

Nerve pain happens when the nerve is being pinched, compressed or was directly injured. Characteristics: shooting, tingling, zaps, numbness, stabbing or burning. Numbness is not like an analgesic. It can be a reduced sensory feelings, meaning you may not feel it if someone touches that part, but it can be very painful. Nerve pain will follow the length of the nerve.

Bone and joint pain:

These pains are directly associated with a trauma. Pain is localized to the specific bone or joint. Characteristics: Usually described as a sharp pain, especially with movements involving the painful area.

Muscle Pain:

Muscle pain is extensive. Muscles work hard to protect your body while injured. Muscles will tense when the body is in pain, which usually results in more problems. This pain can be caused by overuse, injury, emotional and physical stress, or compensation for other injuries. Characteristics: deep steady aches, sharp, shooting pain, soreness, burning in muscles, spasms. Muscles will have two main problems if not injured: tension and trigger points. Trigger Points (aka knots) happen in very tense muscles. Trigger points follows specific patterns in each muscle. Example: a trigger point in the upper traps muscle is felt in the head, neck and shoulders. Pains and tensions like these can often be the cause of headaches.

Pain priority:

Your brain processes pain in a specific way. Most often, your brain is so busy running everything, when it comes to experiencing pain, it can’t do it all at once. Thankfully. This means, if you have pain in your neck, your back, and your feet, there will usually only be one as the most painful while the others are background pain. The worst pain will usually be associated with your activities, and which part of your body you’re using the most. When getting rid of one of these pains, the next most painful one will be most noticeable. Have you ever had pain on one side of your body, then had it fixed with physio or a massage, then all of a sudden you notice pain somewhere else? It may not be new, it’s just that your body wasn’t focusing on that problem.

Let me know if this was useful to you, or if you have any questions or comments. Please let me know if something I wrote is wrong.

Follow for more writing tips :)

Happy Writing!

#creative writing #writing advice #writeblr #writerscommunity #novel writing #story writing #writing #tumblr writers #fictional characters #writing community #female writers #writer #writing resources #writing reference

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herespaaa · 8 months

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Benefits of Massage Therapy | HereSpa

Massage therapy has been practiced for thousands of years in many cultures around the world. It is a form of holistic healing that involves manipulating the muscles and soft tissues of the body to reduce tension, pain, and stress.

#Massage therapy #Holistic healing #Manipulating muscles #Soft tissues #Reduce tension #Reduce pain #Reduce stress #Anxiety relief #Endorphins #Cortisol levels #Chronic pain #Back pain #Headaches #Mental well-being #Improves sleep

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bitchimasnake-sss · 5 months

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pLEASE if you could write more of sub!OP men you would feed me for the entire winter (or just more luffy begging if it's no problem to you, love ur writing xoxo)

sorry for answering back so late i was absolutely out of any and all creative juice (lord help me), but i love writing sub!OP men and you guys seem to like it so here we go!! (im supposed to be on hiatus to focus on exams but writing smut never hurt nobody)

"i want to watch you fall apart, baby" ft. luffy <3

ft. (very submissive) luffy x (somewhat dom) fem!reader

set-up: you made a bet with the captain and he lost, now he has an aphrodisiac in his system and you have an insanely submissive boyfriend ;)

warnings: nsfw drabbles; nsfw stuff includes overstimulation, dirty talk, a bit of a meanie!reader, sub!luffy, all that haha; MDNI (thankyou very much)

luffy:

^^ credits to the artist!! (found it on pinterest lol)

- you knew monkey d. luffy wasn't okay - it was evident from his strained breaths, reddening face and jittery body - "luffy, you okay?" your words were sickly sweet, cutting through the tension in the room as you looked at his sweet face - it was honestly a miracle he was even sitting still and not pulling you and hovering over you as he fucked you senseless - "ugh" he groaned, palming his borderline-painful erection, "pl-ease come on, please come fuck me" you tut, making a sympathetic face, "i thought we were going to see how long you can hold back?" "yn~" his head is thrown back, features pleading with you helplessly - a smirk crosses over your painted lips, taking in his disheveled self - the menacing captain of your crew was reduced to a animalistic state. his fingers barely skimmed over his pants and even the slightest touch seemed to ignite his skin on fire "yn please, pl-ease c'mere-" his voice was strained, as if he was holding every muscle in his being from pulling you towards him and fucking you senseless till he forgot where he ended and you began - good thing luffy was always quick to react - so he did just what he had been imagining for the past seven minutes; he pulled you towards himself, reeling you in till your chest was flush against his and you teeth scraped harshly against your lips - "lu-" all your attempts to stop him were swallowed by his hungry kisses; tongue lapping against yours, teeth pulling your lip down, spit threatening to dive past his lips - his mouth moved down to your jaw then to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses in its wake, "yn let me fuck you, please. please." - his hands ripped off your t-shirt and his teeth sunk down on the soft flesh across your chest. he hummed against your skin, as if relishing in the softness and the faint citric aftertaste lingering on your skin - he was going insane, harshly tugging on your nipples and pressing his face between the valley of your breasts, licking feverish stripes down, "i wanna fuck so bad, keep going till you beg me to stop, come on please" "re-really? you wanna? what do you- fuck, fu-" - without even lifting his mouth off of your sensitive nipple or opening his eyes, his hands forced yours to skim over his straining cock as if to accuse you, look what you fuckin' did to me - when your hands languidly palmed him, his face contorted till he was gasping and grinding against your shallowest touches - "don't play with me, baby, y'know-" his breath hitched when you increased the pressure and pressed down harder, "yn stop it" you laughed, a cocky sound, "what's wrong luffy?" - his eyes were wide open now, staring you down and as if he had lost of sense of himself, he growled as he turned you around so that you were face down, ass up. - a harsh smack reverberated against your ass and you moaned at the subtle sting, "i've been nice f' too long, huh? let's see how long you stay cocky with my dick down your pretty pussy."

a/n: i have another ask for the sub!op men and i was out of ideas so the others (including ace and shanks hehe) will be well compensated over there!! just hold on guys!!!

#one piece #opla #op #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #one piece smut #luffy smut #luffy x reader smut #luffy imagine #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagines

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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𝑨𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑪 𝑹𝑬𝑯𝑨𝑩𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, no outbreak au, strangers to lovers

word count: 7.2k

summary: Joel has been experiencing knee pain for the past two months. When he finally sees an orthopedist, he learns that he has some minor damage to his meniscus. The doctor prescribes him anti-inflammatory medication and physical therapy, recommending swimming. At the pool, he meets you.

warnings: conversation about past failed relationships + sexual relationships, sarah's off at college, reader being briefly self conscious about her body, touch starved joel, oral (giving), both reader and joel not being intimate with anyone for a while, piv sex, riding for the first time, ass play, messy, joel showing small signs of relationship anxiety, sexual tension, size kink, dirty talk, joel is mentioned to be older than reader but how old isn't specified, praise kink, joel being...well-endowed

a/n: this ended up being more emotional and longer than I intended lmaodfbvfg whoops?

Joel worries his bottom lip between his teeth. His right knee bobs nervously, his jeans making a sound every time. The early morning sun filters through the small window. A soft yellow light bounces off the picture frames on the orthopedist's desk. She’s not here yet. The kind nurse had let him in early, saying she would be there shortly. It smells like medicine. It’s too clean and he doesn’t like it.

His stomach turns. Some part of him actually hopes the doctor doesn’t come in. Joel’s not hopeful about the results. His knees have been bugging him for the past two months. Locking painfully whenever he sat too long and got up. Or when he was sitting in the truck for too long. It just started to ache out of nowhere. It had gotten worse. He’d give in, finally, after Sarah practically begged him on the phone to see a doctor. After all this time he still couldn’t say no to his sweet girl.

The door opens with a click. Joel becomes stiff, eyes nervously following the woman. She takes a seat. Placing the folder neatly on the shiny table, she opens it and smooths it out with the flat of her palms.

“Good morning, Mister Miller.” she says, not bothering to look at him. “I've taken a look at your knee x-rays and it seems that you have a bit of damage in your meniscus.”

His molars catch the smooth inside of his cheek and sink into it. She just said a whole lot that he doesn’t understand. He shakes his head. She’s finally looking at him, sharp eyes peering between thinned lashes.

“Is it serious? What does that mean?” he asks, hands finding the curve of his knees.

“Well, the good news is that it's not a major injury. There’s just a bit of damage in the tissues and can be treated with some medication and physical therapy. You won’t need surgery unless it escalates. Which, hopefully, it won’t.”

“Okay, that's good to hear. What kind of medication and therapy do I need?”

“I'm going to prescribe you some anti-inflammatory medication to help reduce the swelling and pain in your knee. And as for physical therapy, I'd recommend you try swimming. It's a low-impact exercise that can help strengthen the muscles around your knee and promote healing. I also have some stretches I want to show you. I want you to do them daily.”

She closes the folder, picks up a deck of Post-it notes, and starts scribbling something.

“You were a contractor, right? I’m going to need you to refrain from heavy lifting for a while. No jumping, no running, no extreme movements that can affect your knee. Some walking is fine, but not a lot.”

“Well,” he smacks his lips. Now relaxed, he leans back into the chair and crosses his arms. “There goes my weekend plans.”

“Do you work out a lot? Because this is quite common in athletes.”

“Uh…It was a joke.”

“Oh.”

Suddenly he’s fidgety again. Not wanting to look dumb, he explains. “Because you said jumpin’ and runnin’ and no one spends their weekend jumpin’ do they?”

A nervous laughter bubbles in his throat, and he manages to swallow it down. She nods and peels the paper away. Handing it to Joel, she looks at him with a small smile.

“Sorry about that, it’s still early. And you’re right. They don’t.

You step into the small shower cabin and allow the cold water to trace over your skin and wash away the outside. The elastic of your swimming cap digs into your forehead, the goggles applying pressure right above your head. Slightly irritated, you sneak two fingers under where the plastic starts, allowing your head to breathe one last time before taking a dip in the pool. You come here almost every day. It’s relaxing, soothing.

Your fingers slip as you twist the knob, turning off the spray of water. You might be biased due to your childhood, but you love the pool. You love the chlorine that fills your lungs with every breath. It’s sharp and pungent, leaving a slight burn in your lungs. During summers your parents would send you off to summer camp, which you thoroughly enjoyed. Though, calling it a “camp” felt wrong. It wasn’t outdoors, and you would return after the day ended, just like regular school, but instead of math, there was swimming and basketball.

You remember those days fondly, which is why you sigh blissfully at the scent whereas a lot of people would wrinkle their noses.

Walking to the pool, you roll your shoulders. You wince upon hearing them crack. It’s been a long week. Your gaze lifts to the ceiling. The soft pitter patters of rain echoes. You love to swim when it rains. It also meant there would be fewer people, and no children. You don’t have anything against the tiny humans, but they had a habit of being loud.

You spot an older couple, their bodies swaying in a lazy backstroke, their voices spilling out in laughter. You also notice one other person that’s aggressively swimming back and forth. In one lane, you notice a man. His cap and black goggles make it hard to catch a glimpse of his face. It’s hardly inappropriate, but you can’t resist stealing a few more glances at him.

You take in his broad shoulders, thick neck, and shapely arms. You narrow your eyes. You catch a glimpse of his salt and pepper beard, the darker hue of his mustache hinting at the color of his hair. Your eyes drop to his hands, hidden in the water up to the knuckles. He clenches them into fists before releasing them.

Your curiosity piques. You’ve never seen him before, he looks lost. He’s standing above the built-in stairs which are mainly used for people who are just learning to swim. He takes another step lower. The light blue water splashes over his soft stomach and he jerks away. You instinctively smile. You usually don’t reach out to people. If they smile at you, you smile back or talk about the weather. But the stranger’s nervous energy prompts you to take a couple of steps closer—close enough that he can hear you. You take a deep breath, pressing your nails into your palms, you push down the thoughts about your own appearance. No one really looks that good in a one piece. You feel exposed, which is why you usually dip into the water as fast as you can before anyone can get a good look.

“Hi there,” you squeak, with an awkward lift of your hand. The man stiffens and turns. Your own image is reflected back at you thanks to the goggles he wears. “Sorry to bother you, I was just…wondering if you need help?”

He stares at you in silence for a brief moment, his brows drawn together with confusion. But a moment later he relaxes, his shoulders drop and he playfully shakes his head.

Finally, he removes the goggles, and you see his eyes— his gorgeous, big brown eyes. Your breath catches in your throat. You’re suddenly feeling very clammy and sweaty.

“Is it that obvious?” he asks, a grin teasing at his lips. “My doctor said I need to start swimmin’ before my knees give out entirely.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He waves his hand in dismissal, “Don’t be. It's nothin’ that serious, just small damage to my meniscus. I know how to swim, so it’s nothin’ like that but I guess my nerves are fried from worryin’ all weak about the results. My brain still ain’t convinced that everythin’ is fine.”

God, he’s gorgeous. All you can do is focus on the movement of his lips. Him speaking is enough to fluster you. You need to get it together before he thinks you’re a creep. You part your lips, but the words die in your throat as you watch him. He starts climbing the steps one by one with an extended hand. The water cascades down his body, his trunks sticking to his thighs. In a fit of panic, you glue your eyes to his.

“I’m Joel by the way.” he takes your hand and gives it two firm shakes. You introduce yourself but all you can hear is your own frantic heartbeat.

“I’m glad it’s nothing serious,” you blurt out. You have no idea what to say or what you’re doing. “If you’re nervous we can do a couple of laps together if you want—if you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

You swear your heart stops when his eyes flit across your face, assessing how serious you are. His smile never fades. You inhale sharply when his tongue darts out from between his lips, sweeping over his damp bottom lip.

“I bet you say that to all the older guys.”

“Only the cute ones.”

Clearly, the circuits between your brain and mouth are heavily damaged because there’s no way on god’s green earth did you just say that. You blink fast. Images of you choking out another you vivid in your mind. You’re insane—only the ones that are cute, who even says that? No more romantic comedies for you.

Joel pushes his shoulders back. He exhales a deep breath, his chest heaving.

“Well, ain’t that kind of you.” he takes a step back into the water, some part of you regrets not sneaking at least one more glance at his nethers. “I guess I should take you up on your offer. It’s only polite.”

A nervous bubble of laughter escapes your throat. You don’t say anything and follow him into the pool. You’re glad to be finally submerging your body in water. Ever since you were little you would believe that water had magical healing properties. You would go into the water, thinking that someone it would speak to you. Despite being an adult, you still think that sometimes. It just makes life a little bit more fun. You know it’s stupid to think of chloric water having any kind of benefit to your body, however, it’s hard to break old thought patterns.

Joel dips head first, and after watching his distorted silhouette underwater, you follow. You smile, bubbles coming from your nose. Your spine cracks as your body becomes more fluid. You turn around so you are facing upwards. Light bounces on top of the small waves. The ceiling is nothing but a blur of white and blue. Some part of you wishes this was an open pool so you could feel the vibrations of raindrops hitting the waterline.

Turning again, you notice Joel moving up. His head pops above water. You take one last glance at his body before propelling yourself up, joining him.

Your eyes follow the way waterdrops smooths a line down from his neck to his shoulder. Your mouth goes dry.

“So,” you say. “Did your doctor give you any specific exercises?”

He shakes his head, “She just told me to go swimmin’. And not to put pressure on my knees.”

You think for a bit before answering, “Alright then. We’ll just take it slow, so a couple of laps first, take small breaks in between.”

“You…really don’t have to, you know,” Joel looks almost guilty before his eyes move away from yours. Confused, you raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t have to what?”

“Swim with me.”

You feel your heart shattering into tiny pieces of glass that stick to your lungs. His voice is barely above a whisper, cracking at the end of his sentence. Your body moves towards his by instinct. The most natural thing would be to place your hand on his cheek and pull him for a tender kiss. Your body singing at you to do it. And man, you’re tempted alright. You want to trace the seam of his lips with your tongue, taste the chlorine on his lips.

You ball your hands into tight fists, thankful to be hidden underwater. You recognize the loneliness that maps across his handsome countenance.

“I know I don’t have to,” you say instead. He looks back at you with surprise, eyes immediately dropping to your wet lips. “I want to.”

He lets out a breath of relief, and nods, a smile gracing his lips. “A’right then. As long as I’m not keepin’ you from anythin’.”

The swimming had gone well. Joel definitely had the body and stamina for it, and the more laps he did, the more confident he became with his strokes. You found yourself staring at him openly, stealing glances before you dipped below the water, hiding your embarrassment.

However, he was still a beginner, and he’s knees began to ache after the tenth lap. He insisted that you continue without him as he sat at the side of the pool. You were hesitant at first but agreed, however, your cheeks burned from the mere prospect of that man watching you swim.

When you’re done, you catch him staring at you with a fond smile lingering on his lips. You imagine that’s the same look he’d give you with the first rays of sunlight after a rather passionate night.

Your pussy bottoms out, heat spreading between your legs. You inhale sharply, accidentally snorting a bit of water. It burns and your eyes water, but you manage to swallow down the frantic coughs that threaten to rip from your throat.

“Sweet little mermaid.” he mutters as you approach, eyes following you with greed. Your breath hitches, and Joel loses his grounding for a moment. He clears his throat and looks away. “You swim well.”

“Thanks,” you answer. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

You ignore the heat that emanates from his thigh, your arms accidentally brushing against the hard muscle. You clumsily push yourself out of the pool and take a seat next to him.

“How’re your knees feeling?” you ask.

He lets out a hum, stretching his legs underwater. “They’re fine. Hopefully, this works.”

“I’m sure it will.”

"Even if it doesn't work out, at least I won't be going home empty-handed," he says with a smile. Your eyes flick to him and widen slightly. Very inappropriately, your nipples tighten. A blush starts from his neck and spreads across his broad chest, you notice the goosebumps bursting over his skin. He starts to fidget with his thumbs. “And by that, I mean that I got to meet you. I think I put that weirdly.”

The world comes rushing back and you feel the soft waves of the pool on your skin again. You smile. Without thinking much, you playfully nudge his shoulder with your own. A soft chuckle parts his lips as he leans into you. Neither of you moves away from the other.

“So,” you say, flinching at how high-pitched you sound. “Is there a Mrs. Joel?”

He laughs. The sound reminds you of an open field with colorful flowers dancing side to side with the wind. Instinctively, you sigh, your lashes kissing your cheeks.

“Nope,” he answers. “What about you?”

You shake your head, “I’ve been single for two years.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Well,” you look ahead, the old couple you spotted before is getting out of the pool. “My heart got broken quite a few times. I think without noticing I closed myself off after my last relationship. I find it hard to open up now and—” you cut off, your gaze drifting back to him. You bark an uncomfortable-sounding laugh and drop your head to your chest. “Aaand, I have no idea why I’m telling you this. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, darlin’. For what it’s worth, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time either.”

You grin and raise an eyebrow, “I find that hard to believe.”

Joel smiles but it’s a soft one, like he’s remembering something—or in this case, someone. With unblinking eyes, you wait for him to elaborate. He notices your gaze, his smile stretches into a grin.

“It’s not that interestin’ of a story,” he sighs. “I had my daughter when I was quite young. Mother left. And until Sarah went to college there was no one. After she left…I had a couple of flings but that’s pretty much it. Nothin’ long term.”

“You have a daughter?”

“Uh, yeah.” he answers, scratching the back of his head. You feel kind of bad now that you made him feel awkward. That wasn’t your intention at all. You’re surprised, but you find it to be sweet that he has a daughter. It must’ve been hard to raise her on his own.

Before you can say anything, you sense him pulling back, both emotionally and physically. His shoulder isn’t pressed against yours anymore, the lack of contact makes you ache. He moves his legs languidly under the water, your gaze follows the movement.

“I know it might be awkward. And not ideal. But I would love it if we could get to know each other more.”

Your ears burning, you take his hand into yours, squeezing it tightly. If he’s surprised by your sudden gesture, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t look at you and you squeeze again, drawing his gaze back to you.

“That’s not why I asked. That was probably a bit insensitive of me, I was just surprised and it came out wrong.” you let out a breath of relief when his thumb begins to draw slow circles over your skin. A shiver settles at the base of your spine. “And I would very much like to get to know you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the way his entire face lights up. Looking at him proving to be similar to looking into the sun, you lower your gaze and grin. You feel dizzy.

“Does that mean I can ask for your number sunshine?” he asks and leans closer. His warm breath fanning your cheek.

You nod, “Of course.”

The pleasant buzz that thrums in your veins soon shift into one of simmering annoyance. Of course, someone took—no, stole—your umbrella. It’s just your luck. It’s raining cats and dogs and all you can do is watch the heavy drops collide with concrete as you wait outside. You look up to the sky, pleading that it stops. You love the rain, love listening to it, but only if you’re surrounded by your cozy home wrapped in a blanket. Or if you’re swimming.

You could’ve handled a soft drizzle, sometimes you even enjoyed walking under the rain, but not this. You swear one of those drops alone can poke an eye out. It’s deafening. Thunder echoes, and you can’t help but flinch. Everything is so loud. Your body is refreshed, but at the same time, your muscles are drained from all the swimming. Exhausted from the workout and the excitement, all you want is a cozy nook with a steaming cup of tea and a good book.

You don’t have much else to do until the rain stops, therefore, you think of Joel. He’d been truly a splendid surprise. Sometimes life sucked but moments like those made it better. After exchanging numbers, he’d promised to call you as soon as he was back home.

A smile tugs at your lips. You find it cute that he said he called instead of texting you. You’ll get to hear his voice which is a huge plus.

You’re viciously ripped away from your thoughts when a loud honk echoes above the rain. With your hairs standing on edge, you see a truck with the window pulled down. You narrow your eyes. The rain and headlights create a thick fog, making it difficult to see clearly.

“Joel?” you call out, hoping that you’re seeing right.

“Hey,” he answers, leaning over and popping the door open for you. “Hop in.”

You take the first step, a bit uncertain with your movements in fear that it might be an illusion created by the stormy night, but it’s not. The leather seat under you is solid and so is the man sitting next to you. You wipe your face with your sleeve.

“Thanks. You basically saved my ass right now. Some asshole stole my umbrella.”

He grins, “It’s the least I could do.”

The rain pounds relentlessly against the windshield, the sound a chaotic symphony that drowns out everything else. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and you flinch as a particularly loud crack splits through the air. You jump in your seat. Joel’s hand lands softly on your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You look at him, surprised, and he meets your gaze with a small smile.

“Is this alright?” he asks, his voice gentle as he squeezes.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. His touch is warm and inviting. Like a soft caress that makes your skin tingle. You feel a sudden urge to lean into him, to climb on top of his lap, and allow his wide hands to roam all over your back.

Joel starts the car and drives onto the road. The world outside is a blur of colors and lights. Neon signs flicker in the rain, casting a rainbow of colors on the wet pavement. The buildings are tall and imposing, like ancient giants looming over the city. The headlights of passing cars slice through the darkness, creating sharp streaks of light that dance across your vision.

You watch the world pass by in a daze, lost in thought. The rain is a soothing sound, like a lullaby that whispers you to sleep. Joel’s hand on your thigh is a comforting presence, grounding you in reality.

The rain grows louder, the drops striking the windshield almost violently. Much to your disappointment, he pulls his hand away, leaving you feeling a sudden emptiness. You open your eyes, watching as he shifts gears and maneuvers the car through the busy streets.

You lean your head against the window, watching the world outside blur by in a dizzying whirl. You don’t have much to say and that’s okay. His presence isn’t forcing you to make awkward small talk. You’re completely content just being here with him, a moment you’re positive that you’ll never forget, no matter which direction your relationship with him goes.

When you finally pull up to your house, dread washes over you. You want to invite him inside for something warm, as a thank you for rescuing you from the rain. But you’re not entirely sure that you should.

You push back your worries.

“This is me,” you break the silence. "Would you like to come inside for a bit? I have tea and coffee— or perhaps you would prefer wine to warm you up?"

The last addition was meant as a joke, a little bit of humor to break the tension. Joel’s lips are tightly pressed together, his knuckles almost white from how hard he’s squeezing the steering wheel. After grueling moments of silence, he swallows and turns off the car.

“Wine sounds great.”

The sound of your front door closing behind you feels momentous. Ironically enough, you don’t get to open the bottle of wine. You kiss him first, and he follows, pushing you up against the wall with possessive hands. You barely manage to push the door closed. He’s all consuming. Inhaling your chlorine scented skin and drinking lust from your lips. He kneads your breasts in his large palms and you gasp into his mouth, he swallows the sound. Parting away, he licks the seam of your lips before leveling you with a steady gaze.

“I promised myself to take this slow,” he rasps, panting heavily. When the first hints of laughter tickle the back of your throat, he takes hold of your hips and presses them firmly together. You feel the hardness of his length through the fabric of his jeans. Your eyes roll back. “That feels good don’t it—fuck—I just don’t want to fuck this up, you’re really nice and—”

“Joel,” you say, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to meet your gaze. “Calm down. You’re not going to fuck this up. We’re in this together. I really want this, you do too. But if you want to go slow, have that wine, we’ll go slow. But I don’t want you to be stressed out of your mind no matter what you choose, okay?”

He exhales a breath, deep and steady. “Okay,” he says, hands squeezing your hips. “Okay. Sorry ‘bout that. I hope I didn’t scare you off.”

“You could never,” you say, brushing your lips together. “So, what do you wanna do?”

“I think I want to show you to a good time, sweetheart.”

“Meaning?”

“I want to fuck you.” he swallows. “If you want it too.”

“Oh, believe me. I do.”

You catch the curve of a mischievous smile before he crashes into you, claiming your lips in a heady kiss. He pushes a leg between your thighs and your grind down, gasping at the friction. Warmth gathers under the tissue of your stomach, everlasting. It’s been so long since you felt like this. The heat of someone tearing you apart and pulling you back again.

A pleasant tingle spreads from your legs up your spine. Joel licks into you, his tongue moving over yours. He nips at your bottom lip. You whine when he parts away, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck. He feels your pulse with his lips. An involuntary giggle leaves you as his mustache chafes the skin. He teeths at the flesh and you grind your hips down once more, wetness growing between your legs.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes shakily. “Show me to the bedroom.”

The trip to the bedroom is a disorienting one; A blur of limbs and kisses being traded with one another. You feel like a teenager, not being able to keep away not even for a second. You don’t bother to close the bedroom door. Joel pulls your shirt off, your ears left ringing at the force of it while your hands fumble with his zipper. Joel chuckles and bats your hands away. The way you furrow your brows goes unnoticed. He dips his head, closing his lips around the tight nipple.

Your legs start to shake. He flicks his tongue, the tight nub pebbling swiftly. Your head falls back, a deep moan coming from the back of your throat. He sucks and moves his jaw, applying pressure. While one hand rests over the curve of your waist, the other promptly toys with your unattended nipple, pinching and twisting until it’s hard and aching.

“Shit—Joel—” you gasp, voice quivering. “It’s been a while, it feels so good. Fuck.”

He parts away from your chest, the tip of his tongue swirling deftly around the areola. His warm breath makes you shiver. “That’s okay honey, I’ve got you.”

“Take this off,” you mumble in a daze, pulling at the hem of his shirt. You bend your knees to cup his erection, it pulses under your palm. “And take these off too. I want you in my mouth.”

“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he breathes out. “You’d like that, huh? My cock in your mouth, cummin’ down your throat as you wrap them pretty lips around me—what a sight it would be.”

“Fuck yes,” you choke out, gently pushing him towards the bed.

You’re almost delusional in the way you speak and move. He’d painted you a picture you so desperately wanted to make into reality. You tug off his shirt as he kicks off his jeans along with his underwear. A sharp exhale parts your lips when you feel his dripping cock against your lower stomach. Heavy and hot, pressing against your skin. You wrap your fingers around the base and they barely close around him. The tips of your ears burn.

“J-Joel, oh my god,” you say with awe. “I-I don’t know if I can take you all.”

His fingers touch the back of your neck and he pulls you between his legs as the two of you tumble onto the bed. He gently squeezes, your body melting at the touch. His lips touch your ear.

“Sure you can, sunshine. We’ll just take it nice and slow, a’right? I’ll fuck this pretty little cunt with just the tip if I have to, it feels good all the same.” his thumb traces your bottom lip, and slowly, he pushes the digit into your mouth. Your eyes fluttering, you suck his thumb. “Just get my dick nice and wet with this dirty tongue of yours. Been twitchin’ since you uttered the words.”

He pops out his thumb and leaves wet streaks across your cheek. You move down his body, dragging your nails down the swell of his stomach as you get closer and closer to his length. Joel hisses when you wetly kiss the tip, a bead of precum forming. You wrap one hand around the base and rest the other over his stomach, fingers caressing the coarse hairs that form a sinful trail.

“You’re so big,” you whisper, lips dancing over the length of his throbbing cock. He moans. “That swimsuit of yours doesn’t do you justice at all.”

“If you continue to talk like that I’m going to bust,” he chokes, hands fisting the sheets. “Please just—” he swallows. “Just stop toyin’ with me.”

Answering him with a throaty hum, you dip your tongue into the slit, groaning at the taste of him. His cock twitches against your lips, smearing precum over the tender swell of it. Parting your mouth wide, you take the bulbous head between your lips and flatten your tongue. You feel a vein that curls underneath his length. You groan and take him deeper. He’s been truly blessed, the width stretching you wide, forcing saliva to dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Slick glistening at the insides of your thighs.

You’re still worried about not being able to take him all. You want to feel every inch of him buried deep inside, and even though Joel assured you that it would be okay, you still want this to go perfectly. It’s been a long time for you both, you want it to feel good for him too.

“Deeper,” he croaks out and when you look up, you find those gorgeous, dazed out, brown eyes looking down at you. “Can you?”

Your lids flutter heavily. Nodding, you force your head down, your chin straining as you take him halfway. Your vision blurs with tears. Spit oozes down his length, your throat convulsing at the pressure.

“You’re takin’ it so well,” he praises through grit teeth, his southern drawl deeper and more noticeable than before. “So fuckin’ well. You feel so good—I ain’t gonna last sweetheart.”

Encouraged by his sudden honesty, you mentally grin. And with more fervor than before, you bounce your head up and down while stroking the rest with your hand. Briefly you remove your lips, swipe your palm over the head and move it back down, coating the rest of him with slick. You take him again, his thighs tightening around your frame, shaking uncontrollably as he forces his hips to remain still.

Moans echo from the back of Joel’s throat, filling the room with his deep cadence. He reaches out for your hand and locks your fingers together, holding you and guiding your hand further up his stomach. You’re a bit unbalanced now. His cock spears almost painfully down your throat. While trying to limit yourself with only the half of his length, his cock twitches, and throbs. You repeatedly swallow around him, your hand starting to shake.

Large drops of precum coat your tongue and go down your throat, his grip on your hand painfully tight. You breathe heavily through your nose. He’s about to come. With a ferality you haven’t felt with anyone before, you push apart your legs and force yourself down against the sheets. The soft fabric doing little when it grazes your aching clit. You moan around him.

Then you find yourself empty. A gasp rips from your throat at the way Joel pulls you off his cock, breathing in heavy pants. Your gaze drops to his cock. The head a beautiful shade of red, glistening with precome and spit. You lick your lips.

“Sorry,” he grunts, pulling you so that you’re straddling his waist. He pushes himself up by the elbows, face only an inch away from yours. “I didn’t wanna come just yet. Need to feel you around me, sunshine.”

He closes the distance and claims you with a devout kiss. He tastes himself on your tongue, hips jerking up in a weak attempt to seek you out. You breathe him in. The scent of chlorine and something so undeniable Joel fills your lungs.

“Don’t keep me waiting then,” you grin against his lips. He mimics your expression grinning as he lays back down. He guides you to raise your hips, and briefly, worry crosses your face.

A question quickly follows, “What’s wrong?”

“I…fuck, it’s stupid. Don’t worry about it.” but of course, he doesn’t let go and fixes you a look that has you spilling your guts. “It’s just been a while and well. I’ve never actually done it like…this.”

“You never rode someone before?”

You shake your head and bite your bottom lip. Frowning, he touches the abused flesh with his thumb and tugs it away, smoothing it with the pad of his finger.

“We can switch positions. It’s okay.”

“But I want to try it.” your words coming out in a rush, it’s followed by a nervous laughter. “I always did, but my partners usually had other plans. And after a while, I just generally chickened out and stopped asking. I got embarrassed.”

“Oh, honey.”

Your eyes widen upon feeling his arms around you, pulling you into a bear hug. His hand cradles the back of your head and you bury your face into the crook of his neck. You kiss the skin. Warmth blossoming in your chest. Both of you suspended in the moment, breathing each other in and out. Soon, his fingers trace a path down your spine, and a chill spreads at the end of your back.

“Believe me,” he mutters, you feel the movement of his jaw. “I would want nothin’ more than to have you on top of me, takin’ you deep. I’m sorry those assholes made you feel otherwise.”

You choke out a sound, smiling and shaking your head. “It’s not that they were assholes—well, maybe some of them—but maybe I just wasn’t good at expressing myself. Or I just didn’t look…” you clear your throat, his arms tighten around you, forcing the air out of your lungs. “Anyway, it’s not important.”

“You express yourself fine if you ask me.” his thumb skims over your clit and you gasp. The digit slides between your folds with ease, he hums in approval. “And it looks like your body is expressin’ itself quite well too.”

An understanding without words forms between your two. He cups your ass and you lift yourself up by holding onto his broad shoulders. Joel jerks himself with one hand before he motions you to lower yourself. Despite how soaking wet you are, the stretch still makes you wince. You continue a bit further, having to stop when it proves to be more painful than pleasurable. Sliding his one hand back to your front, he leisurely circles around your clit. You clench and dig your nails into his shoulders.

“That’s it, go slow sweetheart. We have all the time in the world. You’re doin’ so good for me. Spreading yourself around my cock like that.”

Feeling yourself becoming loose, you sink further down, only having to stop again a few inches later. You groan in frustration and Joel puts his mouth on your breasts, sucking.

You draw in a long breath, “Is that all of it?”

Joel looks up and allows himself to smile.

“Well, nearly. Just a bit more.”

His mouth moves down and captures your nipple between his lips. Your walls flutter around him, adjusting to his size. With a moan, you sink down completely, his hips flush against yours. Joel breaks away from your tender skin, both of you moaning loudly in unison. His head falls back against the bedpost, staring at you between heavy lids. He looks completely blissed out.

Wanting more of the debouched expression, you ever so slightly move up your hips and sit back down again. His eyes squeeze shut, his throat trembling with a wrecked groan. You’re not doing any better, your eyes rolling back as your muscles start to spasm.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re wet. Shit. Can I move, sunshine? Please?”

“God yes,” you breathe out, your head spinning. His hands cup your rear, helping you to lift halfway off his cock before lowering you again. Electricity runs up your spine. Your cry out his name, pulsing around him uncontrollably. “J-Joel, I don’t think I’m gonna last,” you say apologetically.

“That’s okay,” he groans, voice hoarse. “I ain’t gonna last long either.”

The two of you capture a soft rhythm that works for the both of you. Joel guides the sloppy roll of your hips, and you do your best to move up and down his cock. Your legs aching due to the swimming. You want to go faster, the burning between your legs growing with every grind of your hips. There’s an itch deep inside. An inch that you can’t seem to scratch with the way you’re moving. You whimper and fix Joel a pleading look. His cock twitches.

“You want it harder?” he rasps, lashes fluttering.

“Yes,” you exhale. “Give it to me, Joel. I want you to fuck me hard with this big cock of yours.” you make a show of rolling your tongue and pressing your hips flush against him, grinding yourself into his pelvis.

“The mouth on you, Jesus.” he drawls but with a smile. Your heart skips a beat, a grin of your own touching your lips.

You’re confused when Joel sucks two fingers into his mouth. Not that you’re complaining. You see the pink of his tongue, the glistening spit that coats his thick fingers. Pulling them out, Joel massages your asscheeks and spreads them, you moan as the open air hits your other hole. He brushes two wet fingers over the rim, making you quiver.

“Feels good?”

You nod and he slips one finger, your entire body jolts, your breath catching in your throat. However, you don’t have time to focus on the new sensation. Joel presses his feet into the mattress and with fervor, he starts fucking up into you. Railing you until you’re gasping for air and left feeling nothing else but the heavy stroke of his cock. You shout his name, your lungs burn.

“That’s it make a mess of me, darlin’. Such a good fuckin’ girl. All you need is my help isn’t it? Look at you, doin’ so well for me.” the words he continues to mutter force out a visceral reaction from you. You claw at his chest. Dragging them down as his cock spears into you over and over. The slick sounds echoing throughout the room. You notice him watching where you two connect, he looks hypnotized. His lips parting as he watches his cock disappear into your wet cunt.

He pushes his finger in deeper and you’re suddenly aware of how full you feel. Your arms that keep you upright buckle and you fall down, covering him like a blanket. An apology touches your lips, but before you can, Joel’s lips are already on your temple, kissing and whispering praise all the while continuing to fuck you senseless. He pulls out his finger and slightly lifts your hips for a better angle. You whine at the loss and hear him chuckle.

“Another time, sunshine.”

Your walls start to spasm and contract, his hips start to stutter. His strong steady strokes becoming sloppy and rushed, he pushes you down against him rolling his hips and grinding deeper into you. Fuck. Your head is spinning violently. Your cunt dripping and making a mess of his cock. He rubs into you again, the dark hairs that crown his length stimulating your throbbing clit.

A silent scream shakes your chest. You see white before you squeeze him tight, the force of it making his breath hitch. You gush around him. Slick rolling down his cock and seeping into the sheets. You don’t even notice the wet tears smeared all over your face as you nuzzle him. Waves of pleasure wash over you again and again. Leaving you shaking and panting for air. Joel holds you still, his hands comforting against your heated skin.

Your jaw goes slack when he gently thrusts up again, shushing you when you let out a whine.

“Where do you want me?”

It takes you a while to understand the question. Lifting your head, you give him a blank stare. His eyes glimmer with amusement, a lopsided smile forming on his lips.

“Look at you,” he coos. “Pretty little thing completely fucked out. You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

You’re pretty sure you actually purr at his words. You leisurely smile. You lift your hips and push them back down, both of you groaning in delight. He keeps uttering pretty from under his breath, his own composure breaking down. Another orgasm rolls over you, albeit much softer this time, like a fire warming your skin. You sigh happily, kissing him on the lips.

“Where?” he asks, a bit more desperate this time.

“My mouth.”

“Oh, fuck.”

Everything is sloppy and uncoordinated. You’re not even sure how you make your way down between his legs. You’re still throbbing when you suck on the tip, your eyes closing as you taste the mixture of you and himself. You take him as deep as you can, feeling him at the back of your throat. He holds your head but doesn’t force you to the more.

“Sweetheart, move your tongue.”

Your skin prickles at how hoarse he sounds. You happily obliged, stroking the underside of his cock with the flat of your tongue. He sucks in a sharp breath, his chest expanding, and on the exhale, he lets out the loudest moan of the night. It comes from the depths of his lungs. His hips jerk, finally spilling down your throat, you swallow him greedily, your walls pulsing with a need to be stretched again.

He comes and comes and comes. There’s so much of it. It floods your mouth, trickling down your chin. You breathe heavily. His cock throbs on your tongue and god you love the feeling.

“Fuuuuuuuuuck, that felt so good.” his hands fall limp to his side. With a grin, you release his cock and swallow once more, more audibly this time. His dark gaze drops to your lips. He shakily wipes the come that spilled from your lips, popping it back into your mouth. You lick at the digit eagerly. “I should thank whoever it was that stole your umbrella,” he mumbles.

“We should get them a cake,” you tease, kissing the empty patch on his beard. “So…should we get cleaned up and then…talk?”

He squeezes your hips and then follows the curve of your spine. “Sounds like a plan, sunshine.”

You end up sharing that bottle of wine after all.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #joel miller au

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reidbae · 7 months

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DAY 2: Drenched In You — shower sex w/dom!spencer reid

KINKTOBER 2023: masterlist

summary: After spending some quality time with your husband, the two of you shower together to clean up. But, cleaning up isn’t the only thing that the two of you have in mind while you’re in there.

pairing: dom!husband!spencer reid x sub!fem!wife!reader

warnings/mentions: vaginal sex, unprotected piv sex (pls do not do this), use of pet names (honey, my love, angel, baby, sweetheart), praise, fondling, titty sucking, thigh gripping

wc: 1.6k

tags: @nalycandy @prettyboydrspencerreid @mega-kittyglitter-1

"Come on, honey. Will you please let me clean you up?" Spencer asked you with a soft smile.

You were cradled in Spencer's lap with your face buried in his chest, having just made love with him. Spencer had been asking if the two of you could get up and shower for a short while now, and while you did feel a little unclean, you were too comfy where you were to want to move even an inch.

"Mmm, but I'm so comfy here," you voiced to him, only burying your face further into his body. Spencer chuckled at your behavior, running his hand softly over your hair.

"Yeah. But you're going to feel better after you clean up, sweetheart," Spencer whispered to you as he played with your hair. "Showers can decrease one's anxiety, as it relaxes the muscles and reduces tension, relieving stress from the body as a whole," he explained.

"And, it can also increase the production of mood-improving hormones, like serotonin and norepinephrine," the genius rambled on.

You grumbled a little, because as much as you didn't want to admit it, he was probably right.

You weren't one to doubt the words of a genius, especially when that genius was your husband.

"Okay, okay," you muttered. "We can go shower."

Spencer kissed the top of your head, bringing you closer to him before getting up, with you in his arms. "There's my good girl," he praised you in a warm tone of voice.

You felt your face heat up as Spencer carried you to the bathroom, setting you down on the counter. You were already naked from your time with Spencer earlier, with him being in just his slacks.

Spencer ran the water until it was warm, then removed the rest of his clothing. You tried not to look down as he did, but your eyes weren't too fond of the idea. You skimmed over his body, biting back a smirk.

Spencer was too preoccupied with the idea of getting you clean to notice the look that you were giving him, and took you back into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his torso, laying your head on his shoulder as the two of you got into the shower together.

Spencer wasn't joking when he said he'd clean you up. He made sure to get every bit of your body, pressing kisses to your skin before washing down each area. He asked if he could wash your hair, too, to which you let him.

You closed your eyes as he rinsed conditioner out of your hair, relaxing into the affectionate manner in which he was handling you.

If there was one thing your husband was, that was just it: Husband material.

After finishing up with washing your hair, Spencer wrapped his arms around you, hugging you from behind as he kissed your neck. "Do you feel better now, my love?" he asked gingerly.

Your eyes were still closed as you let out a happy sigh, muttering, "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

After a short while of silence, you then spoke up again as you opened your eyes. "Well—"

Spencer's eyes met yours as you tilted your head back to look at him, giving you a curious expression. "Well, what, honey?" he asked, running his hands over your torso.

"I- I'm still—Needy for you," you responded shyly, turning your face away from him.

You could see Spencer smile out of the corner of your eye, raising a hand up to tilt your chin, so you were gazing at him again. His look was loving as he rubbed his thumb under your face. "I'm always happy to please you, honey. You know that," he murmured. "No need to be shy about it."

"I- I know," you said in a timid voice. "Still, though."

Spencer shook his head and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "You're too cute, baby," he said in a sweet voice. "What do you want me to do to you, my love?"

You considered it for a second, blushing as you gazed up at the taller man. "I want to feel you again. If that's okay with you," you said, like you even had to ask for permission.

Even after years of being married to Spencer, you still felt so shy around him. It wasn't what he did, really. It was just who he was.

But Spencer had grown used to it, and he knew exactly why it was the case.

And, of course, he also knew how to handle it.

"Of course it is. I want to feel you again, too," Spencer smiled down at you, moving a piece of your own damp hair away from your face. "Can I pick you up again, angel?"

You nodded your head quicker than you meant too, causing Spencer to laugh softly. Handling you as if you would break like glass if he dropped you, Spencer took you back into his arms, to which you then interlaced your fingers behind his neck.

Warm water fell over your backside as Spencer's lips met yours, bringing you in for a soft and sensual kiss. He was incredibly slow and gentle with you, knowing that there was no need to rush a thing when the two of you were together like this.

Your hands played with his wet hair as your lips moved with his, his hands rubbing your back with a gentle touch. You could feel him smiling against your lips as he kissed you, sinking deeper into it as the time went on.

You felt the cool surface of the shower wall on your back as Spencer pushed you up to it, veiny hands gripping your thighs to hold you up. He then managed to move a hand away, now only holding you up with one. His free hand moved down just to feel his cock, that had since become hard.

You opened your eyes as water ran down your faces, gazing at him with needy eyes as you looked down. You could feel yourself growing wetter as you eyed him, and that wasn't just because of the shower.

Spencer moved his hand up and down for a few more seconds, then guided his tip to your cunt slowly. Gently, he pushed himself inside of you, and you quickly melted into the feeling that you'd been craving ever since your time together earlier.

Spencer moved his hands back down to your thighs, gripping them again as he moved himself into you, your back still pressed into the wall.

Spencer set you down to your feet, taking one of your legs into his hand and lifting it up for better access as the two of you made love. "You're so beautiful, my love," Spencer whispered.

You smiled, meeting his eyes with a needy expression. "Mmm, am not," you said in response, your brain too messy with pleasure to say much else.

"Yes, you are, baby," Spencer said, bringing his free hand up to cup one of your tits. He ran his thumb in slow circles over it and squeezed down with force, causing your head to tilt back on the wall in pleasure. "Especially when you're needy for me like this," he teased.

You only grumbled in response, allowing your eyes to close, and your body to refocus on the feeling of Spencer inside of you once more. You weren't quite sure how the taller man did it, but the hand that was fondling your breast was suddenly replaced with his mouth.

You couldn't miss the gorgeous view of your husband with his mouth full of your tit. You opened your eyes again to look at him, whimpering at the view of him bending down just to pleasure you.

Spencer's tongue swirled around your nipple as he pounded harder into you, holding your gaze as he did so. You couldn't help but moan out his name in a soft tone, muttering, "Mmm, Spence, please, keep going."

Spencer indulged you as rapidly as you had asked, his pace never slowing down.

He pulled back after a while to lean back up again, meeting your mouth in one more passionate kiss. His free hand moved down to rub your clit this time, moving in hard circles.

When Spencer heard you whine out at the new feeling, he looked at you, face still shiny with water from the shower. "You like that, huh, angel?" he asked in a teasing tone. "You like the way my fingers feel?"

You nodded, moving your lips up to kiss him with a passionate need. "So much," you whispered in response. "You have no idea how much."

"I think I have a clue," Spencer chuckled as he continued. "I like making you feel good, honey. I'll never get sick of it."

"Please don't," you groaned out.

That was the last thing you could ever want.

Spencer could feel your climax closing in after a short while, which only encouraged him to get you there quickly, so long as that was what you wanted.

Of course it was. It was what you craved, at that.

Spencer's tongue moved with yours as the both of you soon rode out your highs. You allowed both the water from the shower and pure bliss to wash over you as you reveled in the tang of Spencer's lips, the feeling of his cock, and the way he was moving his hand all at once.

You soaked Spencer's dick with your release as he filled you with his, the feeling being the final touch to fulfilling your needs when it came to having sex with Spencer.

You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down as Spencer lowered your leg, taking a second to relax as well. When he did, he used both hands to cup your face gingerly, and pressed soft kisses to your jaw, nose, lips, and cheeks.

You giggled as he peppered you with kisses, smiling breathlessly up at him. "Thank you," you said.

"You don't have to thank me, angel. Making you feel good makes me feel good, too," he smiled down at you. It was clear that by that, he didn't mean only in the physical sense of the phrase.

"Now, for the second time today," he smiled, kissing the tip of your nose again. "Can I get you cleaned up?"

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reblogs are very much appreciated <3

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#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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saturnsorbits · 1 day

Text

Skintight

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Suggestive, Word Count: 2.1k.

Summary: Sero's got an embarrassing problem.

A/N: This is a new flavour of Sero for me, but I love this one just as much.

'You can't laugh...' Sero's voice is thick in the back of his throat forcing him to attempt to cough out it's awkwardness.

It doesn't work.

There's still the tell tale pinkness of a deep blush around his cheek bones, one that streaks down his neck and vanishes beneath the high, black neck of his suit.

Holding open your front door, you raise your eyebrows already on the cusp of giggles. He's leaning on your door frame, his arm pinned above his head, elbow pressed into the wood in a way that was almost charming. 'Okay...'

'Can – Actually...' He leans back, glancing down the corridor. 'Can I come in?'

'Of course.' Stepping aside, you watch as he slips into your apartment keeping his back almost flush with the door. You watch as he goes, side-stepping his way into your living room before turning quick on the balls of his feet to face you – the same sheepish smile etched into his features. Pausing, you tilt your head. 'Are you okay?'

'Y – yeah, uh...' He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he fidgets.

You raise your eyebrows, tipping forward slightly on your tip-toes.

'I – ha... See it's funny really because -.'

'Hanta, spit it out.'

He sighs. 'I'm stuck in my suit.'

You can't help it, a chuckle bubbles up your throat and spills helplessly over your lips.

Rocking his head back on his shoulders, Hanta groans. 'I said not to laugh...'

Sucking in air through your teeth, you struggle with party balloon lungs until the wheezing subsides and you can stand a little straighter again. 'Yeah, yep, sorry...' A stray gasp leaks from your lips, forcing you to bite down on the seam to silence it. 'Go on.'

'It gets worse.' He sighs. Squeezing shut his eyes, he licks over his lips before admitting. 'I'm naked in here.'

'I'm sorry, what?' You cough, disguising the tension in your lungs. It's hard not to look then, to really look, given the new information you've just been presented with.

Black spandex, strengthened with some obnoxiously named polymer stretches over the expanse of his shoulders. He's wide there, wider than you'd expect given his slight frame, but there's no denying the muscle that lingers under the material. The black extends, covers the swells of his pecs and then tapers, cutting into odd triangles that frame the ripples of his stomach. He's not as well muscled here as he is in his shoulders. Instead of the rough blocks of abdominal muscles, his are streamlined, forming two long, thick stripes of muscle that are almost totally visible through the pale of his suit.

Letting your eyes sink lower still, your gaze lingers on the thin strips of malleable metal that serves to strengthen his suit, but also inadvertently seems to perfectly highlight the deep creases that mark out his torso. You swallow. Hidden under a black square of material, barely contained by what you have to assume is at least two layers of material is a thick bulge. The swell is obvious, casting darkened shadows onto the twitching muscles of his thighs.

'Naked, me, under here...' Gesturing his crotch, he widens his eyes.

'The fucking zip snapped and I can't ask anyone to fucking help peel me out because whoever does it is going to get an eyeful of, well... Me.'

Blinking repeatedly, you swallow the saliva collecting in your mouth and snap your eyes back up to his. His jaw is tight, his stare worried and wild as he looks at you for an answer to a question you're not sure he's got the balls to ask.

Although, new information could prove you wrong.

It's in that instant that the silliness of the situation hits you right back over the head again. You manage to hold your laughter for a solid three seconds before it's tumbling out of you again. This time, it catches you off guard, rolling through you and almost reducing you to a crouch as Sero winces in front of you. 'Why couldn't you get one of the boys to help? Surely they've seen everything before...'

'And have Denks take the piss forever? No thanks.'

'Oh...' You fold your arms across your chest. 'And you think I won't take the piss? Is that it?'

'No.' He answers too quickly, but manages to trap the rest of his half-baked confession behind his teeth before it drops into the palm of your hands. The truth is, he doesn't think he'd mind you taking the piss – he doesn't think he'd mind you doing anything to him, in all honesty. Maybe that's why instead of slinking back to the agency and hoping that Hatsume was in her workshop, he'd found himself here, almost twenty minutes out of his way. He shrugs. 'But, maybe you'll be nicer about it?'

Locking eyes with him for a moment, you pause to watch him sweat before rubbing your hands together. 'C'mon then...' You smirk. 'Let's see how big that dick is.'

'Can you not?' Sero snaps, shivering when your palm meets the muscle of his shoulder. You slide your touch across him, moving in one solid stroke from his deltoid to the thick muscle of his back. The touch, as innocent as it is, makes his stomach tighten, molten lava churning as he submits to your teasing. A soft giggle slips your lips, sliding into his ear like sweet sherbet, making him half regret his decision to ask you, but then, your fingers are playing at the dips just above his collarbone and stealing coherency from him once more.

The suit is cooler than you'd expected. You can feel it, the tips of your fingers growing colder as you search across his chest, fingertips pressing against him in a search that quickly becomes fruitless.

Scratching, you use your nails to rake down his chest and attempt to ignore the way you can feel him respond. His whole body bristles, muscles tightening as a ripple uses his spine like a fire pole. You lick over your lips and hope he can't hear the shake in your voice. 'Where the fuck is the zip on this thing?'

Stretching back his shoulders, Sero swallows. 'It's, uh, around the back...' Gathering the loose hair

Immediately, you lift your hands as if burnt. Now, your groping feels gratuitous – sexual in a way that it wasn't meant to be. Not really. When you step behind him, twisting your hip to avoid bumping it against his, you don't let your fingers wonder.

It's not hard to find it, not now you're laser focused. There's a small bump. The slightest overlap between the two sides of his suit as it wraps around the base of his neck. A few hours ago there had been a zip, the thin strip of metal poking, just, from the material, but now, there's nothing there: Just the slight bump.

Laying one hand flat against the muscle of his back, you use your index finger to skate up the zip – parting the fabric as you go. At the top, you hook your finger under the suit and begin to work at opening it.

Each touch sends a series of short static shocks up through his body, forcing him to tense the plain of his stomach to keep him from folding over. He can feel it, the delicate slip of your fingers as you manage to shift the zip from the top of his spine to near between his shoulders. Inhaling, he starts to wonder if this was a bad idea after all.

'You want me to just keep going, yeah?' You move slowly now. It's almost obscene. A private strip show. One you're participating in, that wouldn't even be happening without you. The thought has you fighting your own composure, forcing you to lock your knees to keep them from shaking.

'Ye – yeah.' He forces a laugh into his voice, but it catches behind his Adam's apple and slips out of his mouth a rasp. 'It stops like, like,' he coughs. 'Like just above my ass.' The bridge of his nose crinkles, a cringe folding his features as he stops talking.

'Okay.' Your fingers feel like they're burning as your decent reveals more and more skin. The smooth plain of his back is revealed, the muscle underneath rippling as it's loosed from it's material confines.

It's intimate in a way you'd never expected as with the slick of his suit, so too are hidden secrets revealed. There's a mole just under the curve of his right shoulder blade. A scar that runs parallel to his spine, the skin still pink and fresh. The edges of black ink that wraps around the edge of his left hip.

When the zip finally draws to a stop, you can see the cleft of his ass. If you were to slip your hands inside, splaying your fingers across the warm breath of his lower back you'd be able to sink your thumbs into his back dimples. You imagine he'd sigh. Let his head roll back on his shoulders as you press close to him. Maybe you'd let your hands slink further, following along the grooves of his hips; lines that would lead to lower and lower, until...

'All done?' His voice is wound tight when he speaks, locked somewhere in the basin of his throat and released as if thrown out on a breath.

Your reluctant to step back, to recede from the heat of his body, but you manage it. 'Yep.' You pat his back, feeling the muscle relax under your touch. 'All done.'

He turns, already wriggling his shoulders free from the material of his suit. 'Thanks, thought I was going to be trapped forever in this thing. It's so...' Slipping his fingers under the latex clinging to his left shoulder, he stretches it from his skin. 'Difficult to fucking get out of.'

You chuckle and watch him struggle. He twists around himself, peeling the second skin of his suit away only for it to snap back and illicit a hiss from between his teeth. 'C'mere, before you do yourself some serious harm.'

Sero shivers as your hands skate underneath the suit and peel him from it. He'd close his eyes to hide from the intimacy of your slow undressing of him, but all that would do is conjure images of what he wishes would come afterwards. Images of him repaying the favour, slipping you from your oversized hoodie and sinking to his knees then repaying you again in a wholly different way. He can already imagine how easy it would be to have you, and yet... 'Thanks,' he mumbles.

'No worries.' You giggle, catching his eye before you step back: his shoulders and arms freed. 'Tell you what though...' Your eyebrow arcs, a coy smile playing at the edge of your lip. 'That really doesn't hide anything, does it?'

Eyes widening, he swallows hard. The knowledge of your staring, dare he even dream admiring, sends a shock wave of tension directly south. He cock kicks, his ass clenching as if to try and disguise the too obvious bulge against the front of his costume. In an instant, his hands sink, the top-half of his suit bunched in his fist as he plays the move for comfort and hopes you don't notice a thing. 'I...'

'I'm just joking around, Han.' You chuckle around the lump in your throat. There's a notable pulse in your stomach, one that sinks by the second and has your thoughts turning savoury.

'I'll...' Sero hedges. There's an energy in his muscles, one that makes him want to bounce on the balls of his feet and do something silly.

'Do you want a t-shirt?'

The more he looks at you, the more kissable you look. You always look kissable, but right now, with the sun coming in from your living room window and that small curious smile itching at your lip... You look phenomenal. He shakes his head. 'I'll just swing home. I'll be too high and too quick for anyone to notice that I'm semi-shirtless... My place isn't far.'

'Oh, okay.' You try not to let your disappointment show, but there's a notch that forms between his eyebrows that makes you wonder just how successful you'd been at disguising it. Slinking to the door, Sero has one foot over the threshold before he turns.

Fuck it. He thinks.

'Can I tell you something?'

Your eyes shine, head tilting. 'Of course, anything.'

'I really, like, really wanna take you out to dinner.'

Your lips break into a smile, forcing apples into your cheeks as a chuckle slips through your teeth. 'Yeah?'

'Yeah.' His smile matches yours, reaching his eyes and making him glow. 'Next week? That new place down town?'

You nod, chewing at your lip as you try not to feel like an excited school girl. 'It's a date.'

Sero's heart stutters, thudding in his chest. 'It's a date.'

-> Masterlist

#sero x reader #sero hanta x reader #mha x reader #sero smut

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