Okay I Have Seen So Many Superwholock Posts About How They’re The ‘crazy Fandom’ And Like ?????

*ok, but what is Jake's stragle?*

SHOWTIME

HANDLE IT

mike schmidt x f!teacher!reader word count; 2,417 warnings; once again, no plot, just porn <3 summary; mike has a look. that's never a good sign.

 “Follow Mrs Davis and her class for lunch!”

 Mike watched from his seat behind the teacher’s desk as his girlfriend saw her class out the door, hand on the handle and pulling it closed behind them, making sure to twist the lock while she did. The corners of his mouth twitched as she sighed and fell back against the door, blowing a strand of loose hair out of her face. 

 “Long day?” Mike asked and she narrowed her eyes over at him, her lips quirked in a tired grin. “Don’t even get me started,” she grumbled as she pushed herself off of the door, heels clicking against the tile as she made her way back to her desk. 

 “Abby hasn’t been a problem, I hope?” Mike cocked an eyebrow to his hairline as she leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, settling herself down in her chair. She rolled her eyes at this, “you always make it seem like she should be causing trouble,” she tittered. “No, Abby’s always great.”

 She watched as Mike reached for the floor beside him, a plastic takeout bag in his hand and she grinned, wiggling in her seat as he began to unravel the knot in the handles. “Sooo… what did you bring me?” She asked, letting the smell of what she swore was tomato sauce waft through her nostrils.

 “New Italian place opened in the mall. Figured we could try it out,” he replied as he handed her one of the takeout boxes in which she ripped the lid off of, grinning over at Mike. “Spaghetti with meatballs. You know me so well.”

 She leaned forward as he handed her the plastic fork to press a kiss against his lips and Mike smiled, practically chasing after her mouth again when she pulled away. He watched as she spun the spaghetti around her fork, as she took a bite and moaned at the taste. 

 Suddenly, Mike’s jeans felt very tight. 

 “What is this place called? It’s amazing,” she moaned, chewing behind her fingers as she turned to glance over at Mike. “Ten out of ten. This might even be better than your spaghetti and meatballs.”

 Mike, although distracted by something else entirely, furrowed his brows at this, tossing his hands up. “Hey,” he said. “Thought you loved my spaghetti and meatballs.”

 She shrugged, “they’re alright.” Mike playfully shoved her shoulder and she tried to bite back a chuckle, glancing back over to him. “Hey, I don’t see you eating spaghetti and meatballs, why don’t you try and find out?” She laughed, taking a bite from a meatball as Mike pressed his lips together, curved into a grin as he shook his head. “Nah, I’m not that hungry right now.”

 She raised a brow and tilted her head to eye the other takeout box in the plastic bag. “Mike, you haven’t even touched your food,” she tittered, eyeing him incredulously. She narrowed her lids, “you have a look.”

 The corner of Mike’s mouth twitched— she was catching on. “I don’t have a look.”

 Her face fell and she dropped her fork in the to-go box, eyebrow cocked. “Yes, you do.”

 Mike leaned back in his seat and locked his fingers together on his lap, shrugging as he turned his head to face her. “Enlighten me, what look do you think I have?”

 For a fleeting moment, her gaze lowered to the very evident tent in his jeans, her thighs subconsciously clenching together at the sight, cheeks growing warm when he chuckled. She looked away, soothing her palms up and down the length of her skirt and Mike watched, teeth sunken into the inside of his cheek. A scenario played in the forefront of his mind, fantasizing about ripping the skirt clean off her legs and taking her right there on top of her desk had him balling a fist, squeezing his thumb so tight, it almost felt like it’d pop. 

 “Mike…”

 “What?” He murmured, leaning in closer, brushing away the hair curtaining away the side of her face back behind her ear. She melted like wax at his touch, as if her fingertips were flames. Her skin burned so hot now, she feared she actually would melt into a pool of magma on the floor below. 

 “Here?” She whispered as he rolled his chair closer, his breath a phantom looming over her flesh, sending shivers slithering down the coil of her spine. Mike peered up into the sides of her irises, “why not?”

 His lips pressed against the delicate skin just below her ear and she trembled, panicking eyes darting to the door she had thankfully locked. “I’ll give you a million reasons why not,” she murmured as his kisses trailed down to the curve of her shoulder, the scruff on his chin and just above his lips deliciously burning her skin. 

 “I can be sneaky,” he whispered against the valley between her neck and shoulder, his lips a crescent against her skin when he playfully nipped her flesh between his teeth there. She jolted and hissed, clenching her thighs together once more as the familiar slick of warmth burned the pit of her belly. “If somebody walks in, we’re both dead,” she murmured as his palm gripped and soothed down the length of her thigh, kneading at her knee, teasing her, taunting her. 

 “Relax, babe,” he breathed a chuckle against the crook of her neck. “I just want a taste, that’s all. Wouldn’t want you to get all fucked out before the day is over.”

 His low, raspy words had her reeling, her head in a frenzy and teetering on the edge of a mindset she knew she was at risk of falling down into. “Screw you, Mike,” she muttered through gritted teeth as he grinned, placing one last kiss against the breadth of her shoulder before sinking down to his knees on the floor, hanging his head so that he could fit beneath the desk. 

 Her heart drummed against her chest as he slithered his way between her legs, hands on her knees as slowly he parted them, as if he were unwrapping a present on Christmas Day. Through heavy eyelids, she peered down at him just as a silent curse fell from his mouth, teeth burrowed into the plush of his bottom lip as the pads of his thumbs rubbed circles into the inside of her knees. 

 “You’re soaked clean through your panties,” he chuckled and she burned brighter, sweat already beginning to bead at her hairline and her chest heaving to the unsteady beat of her heart. His name fell from her lips in a whispered sigh as he reached forward with his right thumb, pressing the fat of it straight onto her clothed clit, her back arching up off of her chair as he traced an agonizingly slow and painful circle against it, sighing at the way her slick showed through the thin fabric of her underwear. 

 “Fffuck,” he grumbled beneath his breath, hiking the skirt that hugged her curves until they pooled at her hips, pushing her knees further apart until he had full access to everything. His gaze was like a laser, burning through the damp fabric of her panties straight through to her pussy. He eyed her like he was starved, like he’d go hungry if he didn't get himself a taste. 

 Mike hooked his middle and forefinger around the hem of her underwear and tugged, although with some resistance with how wet she was. She gasped when the fabric unstuck itself from her arousal, Mike’s lips falling agape as he tugged her panties all the way down her legs until they hooked around one single ankle. He pressed himself closer, wrapping his arms around her hips and with his palms to her ass, drawing her in even closer until she sat on the edge of her seat. 

 “So fuckin’ pretty,” he marveled at the sight before him, admiring every single inch of her as if she were an artifact. She shuddered beneath his stare. “Mike,” she mewled through a shaky breath, “please.”

 With those deep, rich chocolate brown eyes, he glimpsed up at her and she gazed back, wondering when his pupils ended and his irises started. His eyes glimmered with longing, with desire, with lust. She thought she’d come from just his stare alone. 

 “Have to stay quiet, hm?” He nodded up at her, maintaining eye contact as he pressed a kiss just above her clit, feeling it throb against his chin as she writhed, trying to suppress her mewl. She nodded, pressing her lips together as she briefly glanced up at the door then to the windows— she was so grateful she’d drawn the blinds earlier. 

 Their gazes never leaving one another, Mike carefully leaned down to press a tender kiss on top of her aching bud, her toes curling in, back arching off the back of her chair. One of her hands flung to the mess of dark tendrils atop his head, the other gripping the armrest of her desk chair. Mike pulled away again, the makings of a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Think you can handle it?” He asked and she whimpered, nodding, every ounce of dignity in her body long gone, thrown somewhere far away from right there.

 “Just… please, Mike,” she whined, trying to keep her voice on the low as she gripped the roots of his hair tighter, inviting him back into her warmth, his arousal like a gloss on his lips. The crescent shape of his lips fell back against her clit as he pressed another kiss to it, electricity flowing through her body and making her jolt once more. 

 Mike eyed her through hooded lids as he licked a stripe all the way from her entrance back up the underside of her clit, relishing in the way she’d tremble and press her lips together in a desperate attempt to silence her whimpers. The delectable taste of her arousal coated his tongue and simmered on his taste buds as if she were his ambrosia, and he hummed as he licked another line up her slit. 

 “Taste so damn good,” he practically growled against her cunt as he plunged his face back in, his lips around her clit and tongue swirling against the sensitive nub. Tears were streaming down the sides of her face now as she threw her head back, using every last ounce of strength inside her body to will her moans to stay at a minimum. All she could do was pray that nobody would come knocking on her classroom door now. 

 A string of curses, his name among the mix, tumbled from her lips as he sucked her clit, every swirl of his tongue coaxing her closer and closer to the edge. She was balancing on a tightrope now, teetering on bliss as his tongue trailed down to her entrance, slow but firm as it pushed its way in. Her fingers tightened in the mess of hair on his head, pulling harder, making him surge into her. 

 She could feel every inch of his tongue inside of her and he was so close, the bridge of his nose pressed deliciously down on her clit, sending her down into a spiral of pleasure. She squeezed her eyelids together so tight, she was seeing stars, a shimmering backdrop of glitter as he swirled his muscle inside of her, humming into her at her taste. 

 “Sh… shi… shit, Mike!” She gasped as he nodded his head, tongue swirling inside of her, the bridge of his nose rubbing up and down against her clit. Her eyes were rolling into the back of her hand, every move his tongue made and every bit of pressure his nose applied to her clit added more rubber bands to the ball pressing down against the pit of her belly, dangerously close to erupting. “I’m… I’m gonna come if you don’t… if you don’t stop.”

 Mike blinked up at her and pulled away for breath, every inch of his face from the bridge of his nose down slick and shiny with her arousal. She felt herself clench at the mere sight as his chest heaved, chasing air back into his lungs, a smug smirk on his face. “I’m betting on it, babe,” he chuckled before diving back in, her pussy empty one moment and nearly full of his tongue the next. 

 His eagerness almost had her screaming, her nails scraping so hard against his scalp, somewhere in the back of her mind, she feared she’d draw blood. Mike hummed against her— he didn’t seem to mind so much. 

 Oh, how could he when he could sense she was so close? He could practically smell her orgasm, using every ounce of skill in his body to push her even closer to the edge, to knock her unsteady on top of that tightrope until it snapped below her altogether. 

 With her hand not tangled in his hair, she sank her teeth into the side of her hand to muffle the scream that ripped through her body, squeezing her eyelids shut even tighter as her body spasms, bones rattling in her release’s wake. Her orgasm thundered and cracked through her body like an earthquake, the sheer power of her release like a tempest. Her thighs squeezed around Mike’s head and he palmed at the sides of them as he swirled his tongue inside of her again and again, making sure not a drop of her went to waste. 

 He was practically drinking her, slurping every last drop until there was none left to be had. And only when that moment came did he pull away, breathless as he sat back on his heels below her desk, swiping at the slick dripping down his face with the back of his hand. 

 Mike gazed up at her curiously, her head still thrown back over the back of the chair, chest heaving up and down as she struggled to catch her breath. He chuckled as he pushed himself out from underneath her desk and up so that he could stand beside her, a palm cupping her cheek, the other aiding her head to sit normally on her shoulders. The pad of his thumb soothed over against her cheek, coaxing her out of her bleary state, her vision slowly beginning to clear again. 

 Mike tried to bite back his smile, “doing alright there?”

 She huffed as her cheeks burned, “shut up, Mike.”

a/n; i ended up writing up this one in like 45 minutes while sitting in the bathtub LMAO y'all went absolutely crazy with the last mike fic, you literally broke my tumblr notifications 😭 glad to see so many others horny for josh in this movie too

TAGLIST !!

@bxbyyyjocelyn

DRIVE THE WEDGE. TORCH THE BRIDGE. — 3.09 ‘Fall’ x 6.12 'Waterworks’

younger brother’s trick

So Alive II Joel Miller x Reader

The first time you laid your eyes on Joel, you knew something felt... different.

Warnings: gunshot wound, stitches, explicit content 18+, soft!joel, oral/fingering f!receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, minors dni.

Word count: 3.1k

Something had sparked in you the first time you saw Joel Miller. You could feel the heat swirl up through your body, like the world was begging you to open up. Begging you to connect. Begging you to invite this man in. You didn't know if you could.

But something in you wanted to try.

It was the end of June, and it was hot. Hotter than you had remembered it being the year before. Joel rode beside you, he always did. You never acknowledged that you liked his closeness to you. 

Patrol that day was standard, riding to a nearby abandoned settlement for supplies, and was going decently without a hitch, until it wasn't. Shots were fired, and then Joel was falling back off of his horse hitting the ground hard. He gasped, the wind being knocked out of him, and in an instant you were off your horse, skidding to a halt on the ground beside him. 

The other members of the patrol dealt with the situation, riding for cover. The shootout began, and took only a few minutes to disperse. You couldn't care about that, even though you knew you should've. All you could focus on was Joel, blood starting to seep through his shirt. You swallowed, your hands shaky. You went to start unbuttoning his shirt, trying to assess the damage, but his other hand stopped you. 

“‘M fine,” he muttered, grabbing your arm as his eyes trained on you. You shook your head. 

“Joel, you are certainly not fine.”  

He stared at you, and then slowly but surely released his grip on your wrist. He nodded. You got to work. 

•••

He had leaned on you, one arm wrapped around your middle as you rode back to Jackson. You were acutely aware of him, telling yourself it was because you didn't want him to fall off. He was shaky.

You escorted him to the medical center personally, and when they pulled him back to stitch him up, he asked you to come with him. How could you have said no? 

He had a stoic expression as they stitched up his wounds. The bullet cut clean through his left trapezius muscle, skimming over the top of his collarbone. His hand twitched and he glanced at you. His eyes were unreadable. 

Your quick fix of wrapping gauze around his wounds after he had fallen off his horse had saved him a lot of blood loss, they told you. You just felt he was lucky to be alive. If the gunman’s aim had been any better, Joel wouldn't have lived. The thought chilled you, making goosebumps rise on your arms. You didn't like it, the idea of bringing back a body instead of a living man. Especially with it being Joel. 

They gave him a sling to wear, instructing him to give the injury time to heal. You could tell he hated it. He just nodded his head at the nurses, and they shuffled out of the room. You stepped towards him then, as he stood from the bed. His shirt was still unbuttoned. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked. 

“Like I got kicked by a horse,” he replied, trying to feed the button through the hole at the top of his shirt. He growled in frustration when he failed. 

“Let me.” 

He did. You buttoned his shirt for him, top to bottom. “Dunno how I'm gonna get out of this later,” he murmured. 

“We'll cross that bridge when we get there,” you chirped. “Let's go get you something to eat, and some rest.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you, but followed you all the same. 

•••

The next few weeks were difficult for Joel. He couldn't lift anything, or reach above him with his left arm, so he ended up spending most of his time with you at the stables while you cleaned out stalls and groomed the horses. You enjoyed this job, much more than when they put you on patrols. Horses were easier on you.

Joel wasn't much of a talker at first but neither were you. You enjoyed the company all the same. As his range of motion got better, and the sling finally became a thing of the past, he would help you with what he could.

“My uncle had a ranch,” he told you one day as he groomed. You were cleaning the stall. It had become a routine, you do the heavy lifting and he gets the horses cleaned while haltered just outside the stall. It worked for both of you. “Used to go there every weekend with Tommy up until I was a teenager.” 

He patted the horse on the neck as he brushed over its back. “Never really thought I'd ride again.” 

You nodded, leaning against the pitchfork as you wiped your sweating brow with the back of your arm. You had grown up around horses, your family owning a ranch out in butt fuck nowhere Utah. “I'm glad I get to work with them here,” you said. “Reminds me of home.”

Joel patted the horse again, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Me, too.” 

You smiled at the sight. You always tucked these little moments away, somewhere deep in your memory where you would access them late at night. Joel liked horses. Joel missed football. Joel wasn't always the best cook, but he liked to barbecue. Joel was protective of his family. And most of all, Joel liked you. 

•••

Joel was livid. Why? You didn't know, but you could see it all over him when he opened the door. You could hear it in his tone. 

“Now, what did I—” he stopped. It was only you. You swallowed, suddenly very on edge. 

“Hi, uh… I can—I can come back another time.” 

“No,” he responded, reaching to grab your shoulder as you step away. You pause, unsure of yourself. His hackles were starting to lower. He took a deep breath. “Please.” 

Please. 

You slowly nodded your head and stepped inside. He closed and locked the door behind you, and then without a word walked around you and into the kitchen. You followed. A beautiful aroma was wafting through the air, and you could hear Joel muttering to himself as he lifted a lid off the pot on the stove.

You were hesitant to say anything. You didn't want to push the already angry man. Against better judgment you asked, “What's for dinner?”

He didn't turn to face you. “Stew,” he said, putting the lid back on. “Only has a few more minutes. I was plannin’ on bringin’ you some.” 

You felt your cheeks warm. He had been thinking about you, and more specifically, thinking about bringing you something he made. You felt a soft smile pull at your lips. “That's kind of you.”

He grunted, and then looked over his shoulder at you. “At the door–I–well… Tommy and Maria just left.” 

You knew from your small conversations that Joel didn't like Maria. Maria didn't like Joel. Something must've happened between the two, you assumed, and decided not to push. Instead you walked closer to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. 

“You alright?” 

He closed his eyes, sighing and then bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “It'll be fine.” 

You nodded, opening your mouth to say something before your stomach growled loudly. Joel chuckled, turning to face you. “Someone's hungry.” 

You could feel yourself blush as you glanced away. His finger was there, hooking under your chin and pulling your face back towards him. “Hey now,” he said, a sudden softness in his eyes. His lips parted, and then closed, like he couldn't figure out what to say. His hand moved, cupping your cheek. The other went to grab your hip. You felt stiff in his arms. It was happening so quickly—maybe too quickly. He leaned forward, his nose bumping yours and asked, “Can I?” 

You felt yourself nod, and you swallowed thickly. All of the residual anger left his body as he leaned further into you, meeting your lips with his own. He was incredibly soft in his actions. He kissed you with a gentleness you didn't expect, and you couldn't help but sigh and bring your arms up to wrap around his middle as he held you in place.

He pulled back, and you leaned into him until he broke away completely. He was breathing hard and so were you. He kept his hands on you, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

“Let's eat,” he said with a small and genuine smile. You nodded, giving him a bright smile of your own. 

The stew was delicious and at the first bite you teared up. Your hand was on the table, under his, and he squeezed it tightly when he saw them bubbling up in your eyes. “Hey,” he murmured. “You alright?” 

You nodded, feeling embarrassed. “Yes, sorry… it tastes like my mom’s.” 

He slowly nodded back. “I used to make it for Tommy and… well. It was about the only damn thing I could make.”

He gave you a watery smile. It clicked in your brain, tonight must've been important for Joel to go out of his way to make something, especially something that clearly was nostalgic for him. You took another bite, savoring the memories it was bringing you, too. 

The two of you ate in silence, his hand not leaving yours. 

He took your bowl when you were done, putting it in the sink. You stayed sitting at the table as he got the food put away in the fridge. It was weird to watch him. It felt strangely domestic—strangely normal. Even with all the pain and loss you had experienced, moments like this made the world worth living for.

Joel walked back over to you, extending his hand to offer to help you stand. You took it and he pulled you up against him, planting another kiss on your lips. Your hands looped around the back of his neck. 

“You can say no,” he mumbled against your lips. “But if you want to come up to the bedroom with me, I'd sure like that.” 

You thought about the implication there. Joining Joel in the bedroom with no one else home. Your body tingled. Maybe it's what you both needed. You kissed him back with fervor before saying, “Okay.”

He stepped away, your hands slid down to his chest. His heart was pounding hard and fast under his shirt. He was nervous, you could see it in his eyes, feel it in the way his heart beat. He grabbed your hand with his, and led you upstairs. 

He sat down on the bed, his hands on your hips as he looked up at you. You stood between his legs, one hand on his right shoulder and the other behind his head, and you kissed him. Hard. He moaned into your mouth, and you gulped it down, feeling feverish. Your mouth opened when his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, and he invaded greedily. He was taking what was his. 

And you let him, your tongues caressing and exploring each other. He pulled away from you, and you whined in protest. He looked at you through hooded eyes, licking his lips. It made a wetness pool between your thighs as you looked down, seeing a string of saliva connecting the two of you. 

You felt encouraged, a fire blossoming in your chest. You brought your knees up onto the bed, straddling him. His hands came to your sides, running up and down them before squeezing your breasts. You gasped, arching your back into him. He grumbled about needing to get your shirt off, and in a heartbeat you were pulling it off over your head along with your bra. 

His lips found your nipple immediately, hot and sizzling on your skin. He sucked and pulled, working it with his tongue. You couldn't stop the moans he pulled from you, his large hands on your bare back searing into you. Your hands tangled in his hair, gripping tight enough that it probably stung. He groaned against you, vibrating into you. The sound went straight to your abdomen, causing tendrils of heat to grip your body. You shook in his arms.

Almost unnoticeably, he shook, too. 

He released your nipple with a loud ‘pop!’ and he kissed up your neck before rolling you both. You landed on your back, and he kissed his way down your sternum and soft stomach. You twitched under each touch. He grabbed the button and fly of your jeans, undoing them and pulling them off. You squirmed as he looked at you, fully aware of his gaze raking over your body. 

“You're beautiful,” he whispered, kissing your thigh as he settled between them. You felt your cheeks burn. Getting complimented by the gruff man made your toes curl. 

“Thank you,” you whispered back, fingers sliding back into his hair. 

He hummed as he took off your panties. You laid your head back, and he breathed against you. “Hey, look at me.”

You gasped as he licked through your folds and then you looked down at him like he asked of you. He hardly even blinked, drinking you in as he tasted you. Your eyebrows furrowed as he set a pace and pattern, swirling his tongue across your clit.

Your grip on his hair tightened, legs jerking, when he slid a thick finger into your pussy, sinking it knuckle deep and curling it. Another followed, causing you to groan his name. He hummed again, sucking your clit into his mouth. 

Joel's fingers curled, and then he pumped them in and out of you. Your hips bucked off the bed in response. His other hand came searching, reaching up for your nipple. He pinched it and rolled it between his thumb and index finger. 

“Fuck you taste so damn good,” he growled. “Such a good girl.”

You clenched around his fingers in response, the praise going to your head and making you grin. Your head dropped back into the pillows as he continued his devoted and yet ruthless momentum. Your body tightened, like a coil ready to spring. You breathed harder, his name dripping from your lips over and over like honey. You grabbed onto him tighter, your heels digging into his back. 

“Cum,” he demanded, rutting his lower body into the bed. “Cum on my fingers, show me what a good girl you are.” 

Three more passes with his tongue and two more pumps of his fingers, and you were crashing into your orgasm. Joel groaned, almost louder than you, as you tightened around him. Your thighs slammed closed around his head as your other hand shot to the bed, bunching up the blanket under you. You bucked, you writhed, you cried his name, and your heart beat so hard in your chest you were sure he could hear it.

He slowly pulled away from you as you came down, still twitching and whimpering. He smirked at you, licking his lips. Your wetness was all over his beard and mustache, and you shuddered as he climbed up. He positioned himself between your legs, the denim strained by how hard he was. He shifted his hips against you as he kissed you, making sure you tasted yourself on his lips.

“Joel,” you whined when he pulled his lips away. “Get out of these.” 

You grabbed his ass through his jeans, and he sat up, undoing the buttons of his shirt. He let it slide off of his shoulders and discarded it across the room. He made quick work if his pants, too, and then he was naked before you. His cock was curved up, swollen and thick, and he grabbed it with his hand, giving it a few pumps. 

“You ready?” He asked, touching your bruised clit with the head of his dick. You trembled, shaking like a leaf under him, but nodded all the same. He pushed himself into you slowly, giving you both time to adjust. He hissed out a small, “F-fuck.” 

Your hands shot to his arms, gripping them tightly as the pain of the large man stretching you open brought a lump to your throat. He leaned over you, keeping your head on his left side as he kissed and nuzzled your throat. “Mmm, so tight. You're doin’ such a good job for me.” 

You arched your back as he fully seated himself. You both breathed hard as he began to shift his hips back and forth. Your fingers dug into him, squeezing his arms tightly as he began to move harder and faster. The bed creaked underneath you as the sound of his body meeting yours echoed through the room.

He pulled his face away from your neck, looking down at you with eyes that burned into yours. Your eyebrows furrowed, your nails beginning to leave red trails across his skin before he sat up, your hands falling to your sides. He grabbed under your knees, pulling your legs up and over his shoulders. 

He leaned down again, pain sparked in your thighs at the delicious stretch, and you cried out louder and louder as he pounded into you. He hit so much deeper than before at this angle, pressing into just the right spots that had your legs trembling. 

Your next orgasm tore through you so hard and fast and that you couldn't even register Joel anymore. You were gone, floating in the pops of color that surrounded your vision when you closed your eyes. Your body tightened around him over and over again, forcing him to slow down. 

As you came down, you gulped in air, trying to tether yourself back to the physical world. His hips began snapping into you again, and your legs fell off of his shoulders. He wrapped them around his hips instead. His hand came to your cheek, thumb brushing just under your eye.

“Good girl,” he murmured. 

You couldn't even form words, so instead you moaned in appreciation. His thrusts were heavy, slow and deep, pushing himself into you completely, and when he finally came, he pressed his forehead to yours and whimpered your name. 

Your hands found his sides and back, nails sliding across his ribs as he filled you up, his whole body jerking before finally relaxing against you. He sighed as you felt his heart beat, pounding against your chest, and then he kissed your temple before pulling out and rolling over next to you. 

You smiled to yourself as you looked at him, his eyes closed as he laid on his back. You felt completely satiated by him, and as you rolled over to cuddle close, you felt that spark from the first time you'd laid eyes on him. 

You were glad you tried.

y’all ever see a piece of fan content about your favorite character that is so horrifically different from what you personally believe and you just

I'm having an existential crises. How those two idiots would ever manage to have sex is beyond me...

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝘚𝘮𝘶𝘵 ✶

Gulity Pleasure ✶

Death of Me ✶

Can’t Help It ✶

Fantasy ✶

My Love ✶

Do it Again ✶

Sugar ✶

Introverted ✶

Pretty Boy ✶

Jealousy ✶

Down In It ✶

Crazy Over You ✶

Satisfying ✶

The Boy Next Door ✶

First Time for Everything ✶

Hypnotized ✶

Talk to Me ✶

Accidents happen ✶

Get Your Way ✶

Ribbon

You can have it ✶