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#winter kept us warm
paddyfitz · 2 years
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happy pride
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celluloidrainbow · 1 year
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WINTER KEPT US WARM (1965) dir. David Secter Its the 1960s at the University of Toronto. Doug is a well-liked senior with an equally popular girlfriend. Peter is a shy freshman, and new to the big city. Peter and Doug become best friends and soon start going to concerts, drinking, and playing in the snow together. When Doug brings Peter to a steam bath and washes his back, the friendship seems headed to a whole new level, at least in Doug's mind. But when Peter emerges from a party after having sex with a co-ed, things get even more complicated... (link in title)
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carrotcakecrumble · 1 year
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Winter kept us warm (1965)
Director: David Secter
Country: Canada
Language: English
Genre: Independent queer cinema
Quote: “why do you do so much for Peter?” —— “oh, I don’t know. I suppose I like him.” —— “Well, he’s so different from Artie and Nick and all the guys.” —— “Maybe that’s why I like him, Bev.”
Doug Harris (John Labow) takes Peter Saarinen (Henry Tarvainen) under his wing at the University of Toronto. Being two very different students, they manage to find common ground in the difference they feel from their peers. After Peter gains independence and begins a romance with a girl from his theatre club (Janet Amos), Doug is left to battle both his feelings for Peter, and the pressure he feels to continue a relationship with his own girlfriend (Joy Tepperman).
Secter based the film on his own experience falling in love with a fellow male student, but veered away from explicit depiction of homosexuality, fearing censorship. It’s reported that even some of the cast didn’t know what the film was really about at the time. The result is a slow-moving, quiet and melodic depiction of love and longing in an atmospheric but stifling 1960’s Canada.
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wulfhall · 1 year
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snow on the moors today
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julianpeterscomics · 22 days
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"The Waste Land" by T. S. Eliot, page 2
Every week on this site, I will be publishing a new page from my ongoing comics adaptation of “The Burial of the Dead,” the first section of T. S. Eliot’s iconic poem “The Waste Land.” Next week: On in sunlight!
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veinsfullofstars · 2 months
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❄️ Memories of winter ❄️
(ID: Kirby series fanart, Childhood Friends AU, featuring young Dedede, Meta, Para Dee, and Bow Dee engaging in various winter-themed activities and scenarios. DDD wears a burgundy full-body coat with fuzzy white puffball buttons and cuffs, a red-and-orange-striped scarf, and a red knitted cap with another white puffball on the end. Meta wears a purple-and-lilac-striped scarf patterned in simple dark bat shapes and a pair of knitted purple wing cozies. Para wears a green-and-brown plaid scarf and a pair of pale-green earmuffs with a white band alongside his glasses. Bow wears only a pair of white earmuffs with a light-blue band alongside her trademark bow. More detailed descriptions below the cut. END ID.)
Part 1 (you're here!) | Part 2
Finally managed to bang this out despite the weeks-long pain of driveway shoveling. A pox on this season, I say. At least the kiddos are having fun - look at them. Precious beans.
Sketches started btw 11/23 and 01/24, render started 01/08/24, finished 01/21/24. NOTE: This was originally posted on my deleted account on 01/29/24.
Image descriptions (from top to bottom):
-The kids all packed together on a wooded sled going fast downhill toward the viewer’s left. Meta up front leaning into the wind with a look of excited wonder on his face, Para sitting beside him with his hands covering his face in fright, DDD behind them holding onto the sled and squinting hard against the wind, Bow behind him holding onto his shoulder and waving her free hand in the air in joyful exhilaration.
-DDD and Meta iceskating towards the viewer’s right (each wearing a pair of brown skates with gold clasps and silver blades). DDD has fallen flat on his face (in his signature head-slide pose), and Meta glances over at him as he skates past, a look of concern on his face, his scarf trailing out behind him.
-Bow on a snowboard (the deck patterned in long swooping lines almost like waves in various shades of teal), soaring up through the air towards the viewer’s left, her feet planted firmly, one hand gripping the board, the other tossed back behind her, her expression determined.
-A snowball fight between Meta and Bow on one team (background) and Para and DDD on the other (foreground), each hiding behind a wall of packed snow. DDD startles, arms held out and eyes comically wide, as a snowball - tossed by Bow - hits him right in the back of the head. Para (sitting beside him) glances up from where he is making more snowballs. Behind them, Meta climbs on top of his team’s fort, a snowball the size of his own body held over his head, his eyes a pair of ultra-instinct diamonds as he prepares to throw.
-Para trying out a set of skis (the decks lime-green, the shoes brown with gold clasps, the poles dark-green with lime-green handles). He looks very unsteady on his feet, holding the poles out wide as he trembles, frowning down through his lime-green ski mask. He says in a speech bubble, “P-Pizza… French fry…”
-Meta standing neutrally, wearing his scarf and wing cozies along with DDD’s knitted cap, his breath visible beside him in a small puff.
-The kids all lying on the snow making snow angels (top-down view, DDD on bottom, Meta on left, Bow on top, Para on right). DDD laughs with his eyes closed as he drags his arms and feet through the snow in wide arcs. Meta grins happily behind his scarf as he does the same. Bow excitedly flails her little arms and feet through the snow as fast as she can, spraying snow everywhere. Para - caught in her wake - curls slightly away from Bow and blocks the snow with his hand, one eye closed, smiling despite himself.
-DDD sitting with his arms held out as his friends all cuddle close to him for warmth - Para draped over his right side (viewer’s left), Bow peeking out from behind his left shoulder, Meta lying against his left side (viewer’s right) - all looking quite content save for DDD himself, who looks only slightly annoyed. Squiggly lines radiate out from him to indicate body heat, while an arrow points at him with the text “Living Space Heater”.
-DDD, Meta, and Para all enjoying mugs of hot cocoa, each piled high with swirls of cream, wisps of steam curling off of them. DDD holds one mug for himself (pale-yellow with a light-blue snowflake design) and hands out another for Meta (light-blue with a pale-yellow snowflake design). Meta reaches for it excitedly, eyes wide and sparkling, his little hands waving and his wings flared out behind him, straining in their cozies. Beside him, Para sits with his own mug (light-green with a pale-red snowflake design), holding it in both hands and smiling contentedly.
-The kids making snowpeople. On the left, DDD stands before a snowman vaguely modeled after himself (with rocks for the eyes, mouth, and buttons, three twigs on top for his plumage, and a fish-patterned scarf - presumably Bow’s - around its neck), grinning cockily and mimicking its pose with one hand on his hip, the other held up in a flex. Para stands beside him with an armful of extra sticks, looking very unimpressed with an ellipsis over his head. On the right, Meta leans on one foot with his back to the viewer, working on a snowman that looks somewhat like Galacta Knight (with twigs shoved in to represent his horns and the cross visor of his mask, and mounds of snow in back to represent wings). In the foreground, Bow sits stubbornly half-buried in a pile of snow, shivering, a drop of snot hanging from her face.
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siren-of-agony · 1 year
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Day 1 - Nightmares (Alt 1)
To get back into writing, I'm gonna try to do Whumpcember! However, I made myself some extra rules: It's all going to be twin-stuff (or at least from their universe) and I'm going to stay under or around 500 words per day!
Here is their Masterpost
CW: lady whump, nonhuman whumpee,  something close to an intimate whumpe
She was close to the ground, stretching to warm up her muscles in preparation for the show that would be starting soon, when curtain moving caught her eye.
In the twilight of the backstage area it took her a moment to spot the little child that somehow had found its way where it really shouldn't be, looking around curiously.
Maybe four or five, the tiny creature filled Alba with a sense of protection usually only reserved for her brother.
This was no place for a child, and she needed to make sure it would find its way back to its parents, to safety, to a freedom it didn't even know was in danger.
Quickly, she took a step towards it, and another. The child reacted to the sound of her footsteps at the same moment Alba stepped into the low light of one of the lamps, and their eyes met.
She could feel her face move in a way almost unfamiliar to her, a gentle smile rising on her lips.
The kid's eyes, however, grew wide in fear and tears rose up in them. Alba couldn't even react before the child let out a shriek, turned around and was gone, back through the curtain.
She didn't react when a hand came to rest on her shoulder, either.
The touch was soft, but it made her skin crawl, like always. A chuckle came from the Director, who was now standing next to her. "Did you try to make a friend?" He was mocking her, his kind tone a twisting knife in a wound he had created long ago.
She didn't answer, and started to turn away from him, from his grasp. He increased the pressure on her shoulder only slightly. She was stronger than him. She could walk away, he would have no chance to hold her there. She didn't move.
"That poor child", he continued, as if he wasn't aware of her desire to run from him. "It just wanted to see the wonderful world of the circus, and instead it met a monster."
He turned her until they faced each other. She met his gaze, and it felt like a small act of defiance to hold it.
"Imagine, a shadow stepping out of the darkness, horns, white pupils in black eyes, teeth bared."
The hand not on her shoulder rose up to her face, stroking it. She barely suppressed a shudder.
"You probably gave that poor thing nightmares. I mean, just look at you. You might as well be one."
Fake pity dripped from his voice like honey. She felt bile rise in her throat.
He didn't stop her this time as she pulled from his grip and turned around. He could hear his quiet chuckle as she walked away.
She kept hearing his words, as well, that night, as she was trying to sleep. In her mind, they came out of the little kid's mouth. She avoided her own reflection for weeks.
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Taglist:@i-can-even-burn-salad @suspicious-whumping-egg@winedark-whump@whumpawoman@yesthisiswhump @painful-pooch @whump-in-the-moonlight @dont-touch-my-soup (If you want to be taken off or included, please let me know!)
@whumpcember
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fuddlyduddly · 1 year
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I love how the obscure Canadian LGBTQ film Winter Kept Us Warm, filmed by UofT students and starring my friends grandfather, has works on AO3
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I just think its nice, I glad this movie has connected with people
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falsebooles123 · 1 year
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The End of a Very Long Month - Diary of a Big Ole Gay
Hey Whores, this is the pretty much the diary entry for the rest of the month of April, also I am almost finished with this fucking watchlist. Which is really exciting, a sword of damacoulas over my head fully swallowed.
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(I honestly just wanted a Rocky Horror Clip for shit and giggles)
but at the same time I now have so many leads and little films that I want to watch to complete the collection. Sure I don't need to watch George et Georgettes, (the french version), or Theres Three but like I might as well I've literally seen every single other film that people talk about.
but enough navel-gazing thats for later.
Lets get into the Good Stuff
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Winter Kept Us Warm (1965) dir. David Secter
A movie that was so subtle gay that the actors didn't even realize thats what they were going for. No, Like for real, that is like a real thing people say about this movie.
Overall this was like a super cute movie. It was just about two guys just meeting in college and vibing and like having quickly developing a deeply intamint and insular relationship something that straight people totally do.
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They were totally like ROOMMATES
anyway as a gay man who totally also didn't have a really close friendship that made me realize that hey maybe I'm into dudes this shit made me feel called out.
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The Sergeant (1968) dir. John Flynn
Yeah, this kiss is noncon. Sorry to tell you.
The Sergeant is about this older guy who basically has this super toxic working relationship with this enlisted man who he essentially forces to be his secretary.
They have an uneasy friendship with The Sergeant being at turns extremly friendly and extremly cold to this man and his boring wallpaper of a girlfriend.
Anyway the whole reason thats hes like that is that HE IS A FAGGOT, HE IS A DRUNKARD, HE IS CORRUPTING THE FRENCH ARMY WITH HIS ... DEGENERACY!!!!!!
and after the dude rejects him because hes not a homo, The Sergeant just straight up fucking kills himself.
THANKS I HATE IT.
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The Killing of Sister George (1968) dir. Robert Aldrich
ok first that is the cutest GIF I've ever seen.
Anyway this ones about LESBIANS HAROLD. These woman GAY, there in a fucking relationship. THEY KISS HAROLD! and they FUCK!
So yeah this was if I rememeber correctly based on a comedy play and the movie turns it into a drama but they kind of fail so its basically like a gay ass camp melodrama and I'm a little hear for it.
I do have to say that the Titelul SIster George is like TOXIC AF but I mean sos Dr. Frankfurther and I still want them to fuck me.
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This film is mainly centered around an actress named June Buckridge who plays in this kind of petticoat junction, call a mid-wife type show as a sweet little nun named Sister George, (yes I know that Sisters and Nuns are techically different suck it). She is also *gasp* about to be killed off.
What follows is the fall out of that decision and her extremly toxic relationship between her and her girlfriend. Theres definetly a DMLG aspect to their relationship as well as just generally BDSM and it borders on abusive. But also just woman who like woman dressed as like fucking laural and hardy which is so fucking gay.
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They knew what they were doing.
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Something For Everyone (1970) dir. Hal Prince
So a couple months ago I watched this really awful porno called The Switch is on with this Guy named Jeff Stryker. So theres this one scene where Stryker is fucking this chick and her husband comes in and just starts getting cucked but then this guy just gets so fucking horny for what can only be described as a sexy bowl of oatmeal that he literally pushes his wife aside and is like UWU fuck me and Jeff Stryker without a single reaction just preceeds to start fucking this guy. It was like watching some type of milling machine and the worker just put a different grain of wood in. What I'm saying is that if your going to watch porn support actors that actually work on being entertaining and present in there sex play.
The other reason why I bring this up is that this is like if one of those Catalinina Bi-Features was actually well thought out, (this obviously excuses Bi-Coastal which is probably one of my favorite pornos ever).
This is a Comedy of Manners were a bisexual disaster who stoacicly fucks everyone trys to sleep his way into getting a castle.
There isn't a lot of PDA with the man he seduces but its actually really nice that they validated the fact that this man can be bisexual and also have like a honest to goodness relationship with this guy, and his sister, and his wife, and HIS MOM. what can I say theres SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE *Roll Credits*
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Fortune and Men's Eyes (1971) dir. Harvey Hart
Ok thats a slutty image.
So heres the thing this movie is very gay. Its all about men who want to fuck other men. Sexual. It also, unfortunetly, frames that sexual desire purely through the lens of male rape and explotation.
This is a film about having a prison wife or being someone old man and a lot of the queer relationships are explotative and sexual abusive. A lot of these men are being sexual abused. Which is not a lovely time with the gays.
The film does raise a lot of interesting notions around how situration homosexuality remains seperate from normative queerness or at least simply becames another aspect of normative masculinity and in that lens I think its important to watch and study this film. But I wouldn't say watch this for fun.
Also Michael Greer does a full on drag number and this shows us his dick. Iconic faggot behaivor, we stan.
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Lulu (1962) dir. Rolf Thiele
Ok I think I would have remembered this scene because she looks super fucking hot in that photo. heres whats up.
This is an adaptation of the Lulu Cycle plays by Wedeman the same plays that G.W.Pabst adapted however this chick is not in louise brooks and I'm going to hold that against her. also this movie was like super hard to get into and follow. Which I didn't have that issue with the original 1930's film. This movie also just doens't have the right energy for me. I'm sorry but Pabst made a masterpiece. Pabst woke up and said I'm gonna make a movie that goes so hard that it will be a faggots laptop background for like 5 months straight and it is.
This is like um ok theres some hot people but its not that gay. so ew.
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P.J. (1968) dir. John Guillermin
So P.J is another one of these schlocky action detective movies from the 60s that were really popular and this one just so happens to have a gay bar in it.
The scene is very explotative and not in the best way to be honest. Like I love that the fags are just another group of generic ruffians for this saturday morning cartoon and that they even like beat the shit out of him. (one guy scatches him which is first HOT and also a lot to unpack). I also compare the scene to the Dyke Bar in Foxy Brown but theres a few differences.
the dyke bar has both like Femme and Butch women where the gay bar basically only has men who look like Liberace
In Foxy Brown she essentials claims or acts as the guardian for a woman that shes trying to get information out of the woman in these scenes take on a auru of queerness were as P.J. stands as stark opposition to the queer community
The Dyke Bar scene actually makes sense in context with the film. Whereas this film just feels like it shoehorns in a gay bar. For reasons. Reasons that arn't important or neccisary to the plot.
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Deathwatch (1966) dir. Vic Morrow
Ok so this is based on play by noted faggot Jean Genet who also did that other hot prison movie.
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So in this one Leanord Nemoy and a bunch of other guys basically fight over who gets to bang there hot illeterate cellmate. Its very gay but its also more a lot of homos doing theater and less them actually fucking and sucking like in Un Chant d'amour.
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Theorem (1968) dir. Pier Paolo Pasolini
Ok this was my first Pasolini film which I watched in Spanish of all things for reasons. The Reason being that that was the only version with subtitles. Luckily this film is famously light on dialogue.
This one is a little bit like Something for Everyone except a lot more surrealistic.
The Stranger comes to a novea riche family gives them all a good fucking, (including the maid), and then just fucking leaves. They then proceed to have like a religious experience over it???
This is Pasolini so its really weird and allegorical but also like super fucking cool. Damn now I want to rewatch it.
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Pink Narcissus (1971) dir. James Bidgood
Ok just imagine if Kenneth Anger made a full length feature porno and this is basically that. A young male prostitute lazes about his apartment and has a series of erotic dreams.
As a movie Its giving hints of Anger as well as de Rome and it is just an insanely weird/cool/kinda hot thing to look at.
Its on Internet Archive btw.
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Fellini Satyricon (1969) dir. Federico Fellini
Ok so this is like one of those old ass Bible story epics from the 30s except its based on a roman novel or history or something and also it is the GAYEST thing you've ever seen. Basically this hot blonde guy rescues his twink husband from a guy dressed as a pig (don't ask), then they fuck, then his brother shows up and just like steals his husband and then there entire neighborhood collapses in an earthquake. After that I stopped asking questions and I'm pretty sure we don't see his hot twink husband again so RIP i guess.
To be honest I have no idea what happened in this movie but it sure was cool and i need to watch more Italian cinema.
Anyway whores thats enough out of me today. I'll probably return near the end of may with the last 10 or so films left on the watchlist.
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ur-mag · 6 months
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I moved into my car in winter, two key items kept me warm in a snowstorm, a regular sleeping pad was no help at all | In Trend Today
I moved into my car in winter, two key items kept me warm in a snowstorm, a regular sleeping pad was no help at all Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS
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yandere bunny hybrid x reader
A/n: the Intro was rushed because I got too excited to write the smut. Not proofread 🌺
Tw: noncon turns to dubcon, androgynous breeding kink, little dirty talk, he's a horny bastard. Mommy kink but it can be applied to any gender. Slapping body parts, he has a minor lactation kink. Mdni please!
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★you met the little furball while you were out on a evening walk. It was the middle of winter and being cooped up inside the house all day was starting to get a little claustrophobic
★you didn't notice him at first since he blended in with the snow. Stopping mid-walk when you heard a weak little whine coming from behind you. Slowly turning around, you saw a pair of red eyes staring at you from beneath the snow
★approaching them slowly, you could finally see him more clearly. Milky white skin turning a light blue due to hypothermia. He didn't have the strength to run when you picked him up. Patting his head, you headed back home.
★giving him a warm bath and setting him next to the fireplace, you slowly nursed him back to health. He was very reluctant at first, but your touch was too comforting to pull away from. He hasn't felt this safe since he was just a baby bun! He stayed with you nearly the entire winter
★midway he starts to get himself familiar with your home, peeking under furniture and into rooms, he seemed to understand you when you'd ask him questions in English
"what's your name little fella?"
"cotton.."
★eventually you had to let him go back into the wild, just a month before spring arrived. He was reluctant but with enough convincing he finally left. Looking back at you from the forest edge, watching you wave goodbye with that beautiful smile he loves
❣️cotton who goes into heat early because he can't stop thinking of you. Burrying himself in his burrow, humping the air. Nothing is as soft as you and your bed. Nothing can make him feel as safe as your touch does
❣️he shoos any females who wish to mate away. Claiming he already has a mate. Oh he wished you'd come into the forest looking for him, to take care of him again as he fills your tight little hole up with his cum
❣️he spends most of his time shamelessly masturbating to the thought of you. His entire heat cycle has been on loop since he left, so finally gathering the balls he heads back to your cottage. Watching you from a distance, lazily stroking his already sensitive cock.
★just minding your business, you don't notice the certain bunny hybrid approaching slowly. You don't have much time to react before a familiar mop of white hair tackles you to the ground. Desperately humping your clothed sex as he whines and grunts.
"cotton!? What the hell are you doing!?"
"hah- nhg need.. mate.. pretty mate.. need to breed! Ohh!"
★you tried pushing him off, but when did he get so strong!? Pining your arms down and ripping your clothes off, wasting no time in lapping at your genitals. Eating you out like a starved man, sucking and nipping your inner thighs until he's sure you're nice and lubed up
★he carefully pressed the tip in, but he doesn't last long as he slowly sinks deeper into your gummy walls. Letting go of your arms and roughly grabbing your hips, which were sure to bruise later, brutally fucking your brains out. Slapping your chest and privates as he grinds his cock deeper
★he keeps going even after he's ripped multiple orgasms out of you. The pleasure slowly chipping off your resistance. Leaving you a blubbering moaning mess under the bunny. A pool of his cum under where your sexes kept meeting.
★it doesn't matter what gender you are, he's determined to breed you until you're swelling with his children. He couldn't wait to suck and bite your chest once it was swollen with milk!
"gonna be so pretty- mph! So pretty, all swollen 'n fat with my babies.. gonna be a good mate, right? G-gonna give me lots of 'em right? Oh ohhh! Cumming again! 'Yer squeezing all my cum out! Mommy!!"
★let's just say that you should get use to your new roommate husband, because now there's no way of getting rid of him. Ever.
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deepseatime · 1 year
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just watched winter kept us warm. never been one to cry at a movie but it almost got me
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ellabscrush · 2 months
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— fucking you behind the screen.
thinking about getting pounded by your gamer girlfriend’s strap while unmuted..
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pairings; gamer!ellie williams x reader
cw; men and minors don’t interact, making out, strap use, breeding kink, agoraphilia, r uses “daddy” to ellie once, language, dom!ellie, sub!reader.
ways you can help, boycott, do not support neil.
“jesse the fuck was that?” ellie laughs at the guy behind the mic when he missed the shot.
“dina, get him!” she shouted, “fuck yeah!”
your girlfriends excessive cursing and yelling across the room made you snap out of your phone while scrolling on tiktok, wondering if she was about to break her setup right about now.
it was mid winter and the apartment was freezing so you threw on a zip up over your top underneath, feeling the warm athmosphere disappearing from your body as you walked out your room.
“holy shit els, it’s freezing” you said shivering tensely towards the living room, but she didn’t hear you.
“took out your friend.. fucking cunt.”
not gonna lie, her little frustrated grunts and insults were very attractive, you thought. you stared at her hands switching in between buttons, her eyes glued on the screen showing her focus, manspreading enough room for you to eat her out down there.. she looked too good.
you plopped yourself on to the couch, loud enough to make her turn over, pausing her activity. she sets down her headphones and took a long look at you.
she lays back on her chair, “hey you,” she sighs.
“you almost done?” you asked, desperate for some attention.
“almost,” she replies, “this game is pissing me off anyway.”
you smiled, having a silent moment between the two of you. there was a familiar tension, but unsure wether you should go along. ellie kept scanning you up and down like she hadn’t seen you in forever, technically she hadn’t since she’d been playing all day.
“you need somethin?” you asked with confused expression.
“do i look like i need something?” she teased, licking her lips.
you shrugged, shyly looking down as you we’re hiding the redness forming in your face. you couldn’t act normal around her when she looked this good, i mean she always looks good. you soon got up from the couch, walking towards your girlfriend, giving her a long wet kiss.
“you should take this off” she insisted while tugging at your zipper, her tone switching making you go insane.
ellie, being her clumsy self, didn’t mute.
“get a room!” jesse and dina yells from the speaker, unaware the two could listen to you both smothering eachother.
“shut up,” she pulls down the mic, “i’ll get on soon.”
you burried yourself in the crook of her neck from embarrassment and laughed. she pulled you in for a deeper kiss, pulling up your one thigh and the other on to her lap.
“can we make this quick?” ellie asks making you confused, “take this shit off,” she demanded quietly, making sure her friends doesn’t hear.
“just mute it ellie,” you giggled in between the kisses.
she lets out another smirk, this time having an idea behind it.
she whispers in your ear that made you shiver a bit hearing her talk in such a dirty way as she fills you in on her plan. contemplating her genius yet scary idea, you couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline rushing up on you. it turned you on and so you agreed.
“suck.”
ellie puts her middle and ring finger in your wet mouth, prepping it with your saliva before it goes in you. she turns her chair towards her pc, leaving a bit of room for you.
“stream your screen,” she speaks into the mic, “i’ll just watch you both from here.”
a few minutes later, her strap was going in and out behind you, making you cry just trying to keep your moans in. back arched and both hands on the rim of the table infront of you as ellie make your stomach turn.
“shh, can’t let them hear you now.”
“mmph.. so deep..” you whimpered.
at this point you were barely clothed, nipples poking through the see through, thin fabric of your bra. ellie gropping your perky tits as hard as she wanted, you were hers. she could do whatever she wanted.
her hips moving faster and faster, holding yourself up with just two grips on her white desk. her praises for keeping quiet were not helping, it made you even louder.
“you look so slutty right now,” she basically drooled, “asking to get fucked under that jacket?”
“y-yes” you say quietly, “fuck daddy.”
the name made ellie flustered. her hand grabbing your jaw while your mouth was hanging open dry, she stared at the long silicone disappearing inside of you.
“ellie- i cant-“ you squeeled as you tried reaching her arms, begging for some gentleness.
“yes you can,” she whispers in your ear, “be a good girl and let me fuck you in secret, okay?”
you didn’t say anything, you couldn’t, so you just nodded. ellie kissed down your neck to your shoulder as a reward for listening, being a good girl just for her.
“gonna fuckin’ breed you..” ellie muttered in your ear, “being s-such a good mama for me.”
it started getting rough, more than before. the image in your head of what you two looked like right now, or even getting caught by her friends made you more horny. your body started shuttering and the familiar feeling of pleasure in your thighs took over.
“please baby..” you moaned trying to keep your composure.
“faster?” she asked knowing the answer, “yeah i know you want it faster, love.”
your girlfriend started pounding you like crazy while firmly gripping your swollen ass.
“perfect fucking ass sucking it in.. godd.”
the little action figures on the desk falling, table hitting the wall, making you realize how loud you two were being.
“mm ellie too much..” you whined, “please slow down!”
suddenly, she couldn’t take your begging anymore. as much as she loved hearing you, she had to shut you up. her hands quickly covered your mouth, “quit talking,” she growled.
“you have to keep it down, can you do that?” she raises her eyebrow while making eye contact with you, basically making this harder for you purposely.
“answer my fucking question. do you want me to stop?”
“no.. els no,” was all you could mumble out, “fuckk”
that last moan alerted the two on the other side of the screen, luckily ellie saved it.
“yo ellie you good?” jesse asks, “uh yeah! just bumped my knee.”
“idiot,” he laughed.
that was close. your quick taps on her hand covering your mouth lured her attention back on you, begging with teary eyes to cum. ellie was full in lust looking at you being a needy whore bent over.
she took the palm of he hand out and put her thumb in your mouth while continuing to pound you hard. your mumbled words were frustrating her, “words baby, words.”
she pushes you back towards her chest, “need your cum..” you begged looking up at her, “fuck me please.”
with that, your wishes came true as she railed you deep and faster. making you reach your climax with every thrust coming in and out of your hole.
“ellie!-“
“shut it,” she covers your mouth again aggressively, slapping your ass with one free hand. the gesture secretly making you more close to orgasming.
“that’s my slut getting fucked behind for everyone to hear.”
you couldn’t help yourself but moaned, not even caring who could hear you at this point.
“yeah?” ellie mocks, “like it that much?”
you nodded. your girlfriend feeling better right about now for letting her take it all out on you over a game.
“i’m fucking cumming.. holy shit,” you pant out of breath, feeling the turns in your stomach and liquid dripping down your thighs.
“i’m gonna cum in you, baby” ellie groaned, “make you.. all mine.”
“yes cum in me oh my god!”
she grabs your shoulders, “take my fucking dick.. f-fuck.”
ellie swore she could feel you, seeing the white ring forming on the strap made her smile just knowing no one else could fuck you this good.
“i love breeding you baby.. fill you up with that warm.. sticky cum, yeah?” ellie continues to please you as you ride out her strap, “goodd girl.. it’s okay mama.”
“els i’m shaking,” you whined, “no more..”
“you did good baby.”
don’t worry, she was actually muted this time.
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makoodles · 3 months
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ミ stay for something
🍓 pairing: kyle 'gaz' garrick x fem reader
🍓 tags: nsfw, ex-boyfriend!gaz, unprotected vaginal sex, lack of communication, jealousy, 'just the tip' trope, sex with feelings
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reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
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You hate wasting a Friday night on a first date, but you had genuinely high hopes for this one. You had made such an effort, too; pretty sparkly eyeshadow, strawberry-flavoured lipgloss, a new little black dress.
You look good. You feel good. 
It’s just a shame that the guy is a bit of a moron. 
He talks about himself a lot over dinner. Like, so much. You sit and smile and pretend to listen, your gaze wandering, and wonder if he’s going to ask any questions about you. He does (eventually), but they’re short and perfunctory and he seems to just take your answers and use them as a springboard into his next topic of discussion.
It’s a little tedious, but hey. First dates usually are. You weather it, your polite smile turning a little stiff as you sip your wine. Truthfully, you have ulterior motives here.
You’re not proud of it, but you don’t think you can handle the dry spell you’re going through anymore. You crave touch, affection, some kind of connection. You’re okay with being single, but god you’re so hungry for intimacy that it’s led to you agreeing to a date with a guy that you honestly wouldn’t have normally been into just for the chance of getting some action.
Ben is a nice enough guy, and he’s certainly good looking; neatly groomed hair, straight white teeth, a nice physique. He’s in good shape, though you can’t help but subconsciously compare him to— 
No, you think sternly to yourself, Don’t do that.
When he leans into you at the end of the date and asks in a low, sultry voice if you want to continue the night with him, you agree a little breathlessly. God, it’s been a long time since you were touched.
Your place is closer, and you can’t help but feel a little illicit thrill as you lead Ben back. You never usually bring guys back to yours, especially not on the first date, but you’ll be the first to admit that you’re needy tonight. 
The weather is getting colder as winter creeps its icy fingers through the air, but you’re wrapped tight in your coat and kept nice and warm as Ben wraps an arm around your waist, kissing heatedly at your neck as you try to open your door.
You giggle, the wine from dinner making you all loose and happy and eager. You tilt your head to give him more of your throat, and he eagerly takes the opportunity to introduce teeth and tongue as he kisses the line of your neck. You fumble with the key, clumsy as your body heats up.
When you finally manage to turn the key and get the stupid door open, Ben grabs you by the hips and spins you around so that he can pull you into a proper kiss. The guy might have been a dull conversationalist, but you’re delighted to find that he’s a good kisser.
The two of you stumble through the door, your arms locked around his neck as he holds you by the waist. It’s a little embarrassing how eager you are for a guy that you really aren’t even all that into, but you guess that’s just where desperation has gotten you.
“Shit,” Ben hisses when you nip at his lip. “Fuck, you’re so hot. C’mere, take this off.”
He starts tugging at your coat, and you pull back just enough to shrug it off, letting it drop to the floor. He lets out a throaty sound of appreciation, before grabbing at your waist again and leaning in to trail another set of hot kisses along your neck and shoulder. 
You tilt your head back, thunking lightly against the wall, and your eyelids flutter at the nipping kisses along your sensitive skin. 
“Oh, god…” You breathe, blinking your eyes open again.
But then… you pause. For the first time, you notice that the lights in your entryway are on. Why are they on? You hadn’t turned them on when you came in, and you know that they weren’t on when you had left. 
Ben is still groping eagerly at your hips, one hand reaching around to squeeze at your ass, but now you’re distracted, on alert. Your eyes dart around, and fall on a pair of Adidas Superstars set neatly by the front door, and a big puffer coat that’s been hung up on the hook in the hall.
Oh no. No fucking way.
As if to confirm the path your thoughts had just taken, your eyes catch on a figure in the doorway to the living room, leaning casually against the doorframe. Just watching.
A scream catches in your throat, and you grab Ben by the shoulders in an attempt to stop him. He doesn’t seem to understand, because he just keeps squeezing at your ass, pulling your hips closer so that he can slot between your legs and grind against you.
The brief spark of arousal that shoots through you when he grinds his hard-on into the seam of your cunt through your underwear is significantly dampened by the awareness that someone is already in your home, watching you, and you already know who it is.
“Hey, baby,” Kyle fucking Garrick says, lifting a mug patterned with little cartoon cats to his mouth. “Had a nice night out?”
“Jesus Christ–” You hiss, shoving at Ben’s chest. This time, the push isn’t needed, because Ben has rocketed up straight at the sound of another man’s voice in your house calling you ‘baby’.
“What the–” Ben starts to say, his brow furrowing into a bewildered frown when he catches sight of Gaz standing in the doorway watching you.
“Kyle, what are you doing here?” You snap, mortified. You grab at the bottom of your short little dress, pulling roughly at it to try and make sure you’re not flashing anyone.
Gaz watches you, amusement shining in his dark eyes. He’s not even trying to hide the way his gaze is drawn to your legs, lingering where your dress has ridden up your thighs. He sips his tea, a poor attempt at concealing his smirk.
“Home from deployment earlier than expected, love.” He says, calm and casual as if he hasn’t just broken into your goddamn house to destroy any hope you had of getting railed that night. “No time to find accommodation. You don’t mind, eh?”
Ben’s head is swinging between the two of you, his expression blank as he tries to work out just what exactly is happening. He’s straightened up entirely, the presence of Gaz obviously putting him on edge. You can’t blame him for his confusion; Gaz is currently looking at you like he wants to fucking eat you alive, and you’re beginning to get hot and flustered under his stare.
“Are you–” Ben starts, his head still on a swivel as though he can’t decide who to address. “I’m sorry, who is this?”
Gaz doesn’t even bother to reply at once. He sips at his tea, and tilts his head as he lets his eyes wander over Ben lazily. It doesn’t seem like he’s all too impressed by what he sees, though he’s smirking as though he’s amused.
“Sergeant Kyle Garrick.” He says at last, with a nod.
You huff. You know what he’s doing – he never introduces himself by his rank unless he’s trying to make a point.
Ben goes stiff. He’s still pressed against you, and you can feel every ounce of tension down the line of your body. It seems like he’s just now clocking Gaz as a proper threat, and you take a breath as you realise that he’s about to split and leave you here.
And sure enough–
“I– Listen, I don’t know what’s.. what’s going on here, but I don’t want any trouble.” Ben says, finally pushing himself away from you. He’s holding his hands up by his shoulders as though he’s being held at gunpoint, and you roll your eyes impatiently at his dramatics.
“No trouble, mate.” Gaz says, his voice still cheerfully amiable. “Door’s behind you.”
“Gaz–” You hiss, incensed, but it’s pointless. 
Ben is already scrambling to open the door, heedless of the way you grasp onto his coat in protest. You sigh heavily as he tumbles out into the cold night, and the door slams shut behind him so loud it makes your head hurt.
You stand alone in your entryway, shivering a little in your tiny black dress and heels from the icy breeze that was let in from Ben’s escape. Your jaw is clenched tight, and you take a deep, deep breath as you turn to face your ex-boyfriend.
Gaz is still watching you, his deep brown eyes staring at you from beneath his long dark lashes. You try hard to ignore his expression, which is unmistakably hungry.
“You look good, baby.” He says, staring pointedly at the way your breasts are all pushed up in your tight dress. 
“Don’t call me that.” You grumble, teaching down to unbuckle your delicate heels. You cast them aside and kick them over so they’re laying beside Gaz’s runners.
Gaz just snickers, turning to follow after you when you march your way to the kitchen. Irritation is burning hot in your veins, your lips pursed as you struggle to bite your tongue. It’s so fucking typical that the exact night you try to have some cheap, meaningless sex with some stranger, Gaz has decided to land right into your home. It’s like he has a fucking radar for when you’re about to get laid.
“You could have gotten a hotel.” You snap over your shoulder as you make your way to the kettle. It’s already hot, but you flick the switch again anyway.
“Nah. They’re all booked out. Busy season, you know.”
God, he’s so full of shit. You both know he never even considered staying anywhere other than with you, just like the last few times.
Still, you persevere.
“You could have stayed with one of the guys.” You say, turning around and folding your arms over your chest.
Gaz glances down, and you realise that you’ve inadvertently pushed your breasts together and up. You hastily drop your arms again, and settle instead for planting your hands on your hips.
“Could have,” He admits, leaning against your kitchen table in a way that’s infuriatingly casual. “But they never offered.”
“Neither did I–!”
Gaz doesn’t even seem to hear you. He just steps towards you, reaching to grab an empty mug from the cupboard above your head. The movement brings him so close to you, close enough that your next inhale is scented with his fresh-sweet cologne, the one you always loved, and you find your eyelids fluttering as your muscles relax without your permission. He smells so familiar, so comforting. You hate it.
“Go get changed,” He murmurs, keeping his voice low like he knows the moment is delicate. “We’ll watch a movie.”
You’d love to get fired up, to shove him or curse at him, but it’s all you can do to find the strength to step away from him instead of melting into him. You’re pretty sure he deserves an ass-kicking for this stunt of this, but you decide to pick your battles. Or at least, to postpone them.
You waver another moment, debating over whether you should try to get the last say, but Gaz has already turned away to continue making the cup of tea that you had started. Recognising that the moment has passed, you huff a sigh and march out of the kitchen, making your way to your bedroom.
It takes quite a bit of wiggling to get out your dress – it might look good, but there’s an inordinate sense of relief when you finally tug it over your head and feel as though you can breathe unimpeded again. You unclip your bra and toss it aside, rolling your shoulders and sighing as your breasts are freed. 
Once you're dressed again in a worn-out massive t-shirt that drowns your body and some loose sweatpants, looking decidedly unsexy, you pad to your bathroom and start washing your makeup off. Now that you’re alone, that disappointment and frustration is settling in properly. Ben might have been boring, but if his kissing was anything to judge by, you might actually have had a perfectly enjoyable night with him.
Bare-faced and dressed for lounging in bed, you trudge back downstairs to your ex-boyfriend. It’s far from the way you wanted to end your night, but you’ve resigned yourself to your fate. You can hear the muffled sounds from the television as you make your way downstairs, and you redirect yourself towards your small sitting room.
Gaz is sat sprawled on the couch, his legs spread wide as he makes himself comfortable in your home. Something twists in your stomach at how comfy he looks, as though he belongs there. He looks around when you walk in, though your footsteps are quiet and muffled by your fluffy socks.
You look far from sexy right now in your ugly old loungewear and bare face, but Gaz brightens up at the sight of you.
“There she is.” He crows, though there’s something soft in his gaze that you can hardly face. “C’mon, love. Want to pick what we’re watching?”
You just look at him tiredly. He’s as handsome as ever; the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. He must have come straight here once he’d gotten back from deployment because his eyes are dark and exhausted and stubble is a little more overgrown than usual. You hate that he’s able to come into your space like this so easily – like he’s never left.
“Gaz–” You start to say, but you’re cut off when he reaches for your hand.
He tugs you towards him, and you put a knee hastily up on the couch to prevent yourself from falling flat into his lap.
“Shhh, c’mon. Just sit with me.” He murmurs, looking up at you with those damn pretty eyes.
You waver, but then you turn your head to the side and catch sight of the second cup of tea sitting on the coffee table. Gaz has made it just how you like it, and in your favourite mug too. You crumble almost instantly. 
“Stick to your side of the couch.” You grumble, before dropping yourself down heavily onto the sofa next to him.
Gaz hums, and you can already tell that he has no intention of following that order. His arm is already sprawled over the back of the couch; it’s not touching you, but you have no doubt that he’ll try to before the end of the night.
He sticks on some stupid movie on Netflix. You don’t pay attention. It’s a rom-com, which is typical. He always pretends he chooses the sappy romantic films for your benefit, but you’re not fooled. You see the way he watches them with avid interest, the way his toes curl in his socks when the big love confession scene comes on screen. It’s always been something that you’re impossibly fond of.
The two of you are silent for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. Part of you wishes that it was awkward – it would be easier, you think. But he makes it so simple, sitting with him like this as the cheesy film plays in the background. You’re still a little tipsy from the drinks you’d had at dinner, and you melt into the couch beside him a little quicker than you think you would have otherwise.
“You ruined my night, you know.” You say at last, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.
To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. You glance away hastily again, not wanting to make eye contact.
“Nah,” He says, and you feel his arm dip down a little. He’s cupping your shoulders now, and you should probably move away, but you don’t. “If anything, I saved you from having a long, disappointing night with some tosser you agreed to pity-date. He didn’t exactly look like your type, darling.”
“He was a perfectly nice guy.” You bite out, crossing your arms defensively over your belly in your big t-shirt.
“Nice guys don’t end the first date by groping your ass and humping you up against your wall in your own house.” He says, and if you’re not mistaken you’d say he sounds a little bitter.
You cast a sideways glance at him. He’s sitting up, watching you closely and leaning just slightly towards you. He’s so intense about the way he’s looking at you, his arm dipping low so that he’s holding you properly.
“Stop it.” You say. It hardly even sounds like a proper protest. You’re so tired, still a little floaty from the wine you’d had at dinner, and desperately disappointed by the lack of sexual satisfaction you had been hoping for.
There’s a pause, and then Gaz gives a small shrug. He pulls his arm back to give you space, but he still has that stupid smirk on his face. You can’t even be angry about the cockiness of his expression when his eyes are that soft though.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” He murmurs. “I’m not being fair, am I?”
“No,” You say petulantly. “You’re not.”
He huffs a noise that’s almost a laugh, only he manages to stifle it so that it comes out as a cough instead. 
“Mm. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to ruin your big date night, especially when you got done up so pretty for it,” He murmurs, his voice low and sweet as honey trickling down your spine. “Let me make up for it. Come on, get over here.”
You hesitate, but Gaz isn’t really giving you an option. He begins to shift, one of his strong muscled arms looping around your waist as he pulls you into him. It takes you a long moment to realise what it is that he’s trying to do. He lays back on the couch and pulls you with him, encouraging you to pull your legs up onto the sofa so that the two of you are laying on your sides, with Gaz spooned up against your back. 
It’s definitely a bad idea to cuddle with him on the couch like this. You’re trying to set boundaries, to make it clear that you’re just friends (if you can even call it that) after your breakup. And yet… you don’t offer any sort of protest at all.
“Relax,” Gaz sighs from behind you, and you feel his nose nuzzle against the back of your neck. “You love cuddling.”
You roll your eyes, turning your head slightly so he can see the unimpressed expression on your face. 
“This isn’t enough to make up for being such a dick.” You grumble. Despite your griping, you don’t actually make any attempt to get out of his arms.
He was right, after all. You do love cuddling. It was your favourite thing to do when you were together. 
But you’re not together anymore, and it’s hard to ignore the gnawing guilt that you’re letting this grow into something that should be avoided instead of nipping it in the bud. You and Gaz had broken up months ago, and it was a perfectly amicable split. You can’t even say that he was at fault for any of it; the strain of the long distance part of your relationship while he was on deployment just grew too much for you, the space his absence left filling with brambled loneliness that pricked incessantly at you. You had known what you were getting into with this relationship with him, and yet when it came down to it you got too greedy, wanting more of him than he was able to give. 
Tonight was a moment of weakness for you, and though your hopes for sex may have been thwarted, you can’t turn down the soft familiar intimacy of Gaz’s strong body cradling you close against him.
Maybe it’s the wine you had at dinner, but you find your muscles relaxing a little as one of Gaz’s arms loops around your waist, his big hand coming to rest across your belly.
“Mm. I’m being selfish, love.” He murmurs, and you fight a shiver as his warm breath ghosts over the delicate shell of your ear. “This is more for me than for you.”
You’re not altogether sure that’s true. It’s certainly doing an awful lot for you right now. Gaz is in just a t-shirt, the muscles of his biceps bunching up under his bare skin as he tries to subtly nudge you closer to him. 
You’ve missed being all wrapped up in the warm embrace of him; he cuddles with his whole body, the front of his thighs all pressed against the back of yours, his strong chest moulding to your back as his face nuzzles against the back of your neck. You always feel so safe when he holds you like this, like he’s blocking out the rest of the world for you. You can only guess he feels the same – he holds you that much tighter every time he gets back home from his missions.
You grumble quietly, but soon settle down. The repetitive stroking motion of his thumb over your hip is more soothing than it should be. You take deep breaths, trying to be subtle about it, because all you can smell is Gaz and his citrusy sweet aftershave and you just want to drown in it.
“You can’t keep doing this.” You mumble, though all the fight has gone out of you. “It’s not… helpful.”
There’s a moment of silence, and then Gaz shifts behind you. His arm tightens around your waist almost imperceptibly, as though he thinks you’re going to push him away. But you’re being selfish now too, comfortably wrapped up against his chest.
“We said we’d stay friends,” He says at last, and he’s so close that you can feel his lips move against the back of your neck as he speaks. “Nothin’ wrong with some platonic cuddling. You should see how close me an’ Soap have had to cuddle to conserve heat when we’re out on the field.”
You huff a small laugh, which is obviously what he had been hoping for. Platonic cuddling. This certainly doesn’t feel platonic, but you can’t bring yourself to push him away. You’ve been craving this kind of closeness for months now, so you just let yourself reluctantly enjoy it. It would have been so much easier if you were able to enjoy it with Ben, with someone who meant nothing to you and wouldn’t have brought with him such a complicated web of feelings and history, but there’s a real sense of comfort in the familiarity of Gaz’s presence.
The film Gaz had chosen to stick on is a stupid one. It’s half action, half love story, with a strong rugged hero and a too-beautiful love-interest whose main role seems to be throwing out quips for comedic relief. You’ve seen a hundred versions of this plot play out in other films, though Gaz is predictably glued to the screen. He’s always loved these stupid films.
You’re comfortable enough that you fall into a light doze, uninterested in the television as you relish the heat from Gaz’s chest. He’s like a fucking human radiator, so hot that you can feel a thin dew of sweat begin to break out along your spine. It chases away the chill of the night and makes you so sleepy.
You’re almost asleep when movement from behind you jolts you back to wakefulness. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve imagined it. Then Gaz moves again, and this time it’s unmistakable.
Gaz is hard, the thick ridge of him impossible to miss as he presses against your ass. You’re awake instantly, the slight tipsiness from dinner vanishing into thin air. You’re on high alert, eyes darting back to the television to see what the fuck has aroused him, but there’s nothing of note happening onscreen. It’s just a conversation between characters, exposition setting up the next stage of the plot.
“Gaz,” You say, and your voice comes out louder than you had intended. “Stop humping my ass.”
You’re half-expecting him to deny it, but he just huffs a quiet snort, his nose nuzzling against the back of your neck.
“Sorry, love.” He says, though he doesn’t sound sorry in the least. “Can’t help it. Missed you loads.”
You can feel his cock even through the layers of your clothing, and you swallow hard. God, you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him, though it doesn’t seem like the right time to admit it. How are you ever supposed to get over each other if he keeps coming to stay with you every time he gets back from wherever in God’s name he’s been, when he holds you so sweetly and talks to you like you’re still his girl?
His hips rock into you in a movement that’s almost imperceptible, except you’re waiting for it. His hands are gripping your waist, his fingers curling into the soft flesh there. He’s always enjoyed the way your body yields to him, so much softer than the hard planes of muscle that make up his own, and it’s no surprise that he goes straight back to holding onto his favourite parts of you even as he ruts against your ass.
“Jesus, Gaz–” You start to complain, but your voice is a little too breathy to be convincingly angry.
“Stop that,” He murmurs, his lips pressing against the side of your neck. “You never call me that.”
That is true – after the breakup, calling him Kyle just seemed too intimate. It’s a name that usually falls from your lips with care, in soft whispers made for dark rooms and quiet moments. His callsign offers distance, reminds you both that what you had is in the past. Or that it should be in the past, at least.
“Kyle,” You concede tiredly. “You dickhead.”
He just hums. He knows you well enough to know that you’re not really angry; you’re not even attempting to move away from him, though you know you should. The film is mostly forgotten in the background, though you’re vaguely aware that the two characters onscreen have now progressed to confessing their love before the big final battle. You just sigh; this little romantic film moment is only going to encourage Gaz even more.
Yet still, you don’t move.
The way he’s grinding his thick cock against the swell of your ass is making your blood run hot. The pressure every time his hips roll lightly against you and the way that he uses his grip on your hips to pull you back against him is making your brain all stupid and fuzzy. It’s the only reason you can think of to explain the way you shift, the way you allow your bum to brush back against him. It earns you a soft little grunt that’s mostly muffled by the way he’s mouthing at your throat.
Oh, it would be so easy to slip the sweatpants that separates the two of you down, to allow him to slide into you. A little woozily, you think it would feel like he was coming home.
But to actually have sex feels like too much of a commitment, too confusing a step to take when things between you two were already muddled and confused enough. You’re almost afraid to even turn around to glance over your shoulder at him, as though making eye contact might mean you’ll both wake up and stop.
Gaz’s cock has gotten even harder, filling out thickly as he slots against the clothed groove of your ass. He’s not even touching your pussy, and yet your knickers are slick and sticky. It’s embarrassing at your age to be laying on the couch, watching a movie and getting dry-humped like a fucking teenager, and yet your skin feels as though it’s been lit aflame.
Then rustling fabric breaks the silence, and Gaz shifts a little behind you in an odd motion as the insistent pressure on your ass is finally relieved. In its absence, you’re almost disappointed. 
You tilt your head, just barely turning it, just enough to see that he’s just pulled out his cock.
“Kyle–”
“Sorry, baby,” He says again, panting against the side of your neck and making you shiver. “– ‘m just too hard, getting uncomfortable. Ignore it.”
Ignore it? You think, a little hysterically. The gentle rocking of his erection into your ass was one thing, but how the fuck are you supposed to ignore the fact that your ex is all pressed up against you, still holding you by the waist with one hand as the other fists at his cock.
You glance behind you and down before you can help yourself, your self-control as lacking as ever. Fuck. You’ve missed the sight of that. He has the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, even if right now it’s flushed dark and angry and painful looking. Your mouth waters. He was obviously telling the truth when he said it was getting sore, and you feel a reluctant swell of sympathy.
“Been thinking of you for months, baby.” He murmurs, placing a wet, messy kiss on your throat. “I can’t even fucking cum properly when you’re not around, it’s not the fucking same. God, even missed the way you smell–”
As if to punctuate that, he presses his nose in your hair and inhales deeply. You know you smell like the sweet perfume you had sprayed earlier, your favourite one. You know from experience that it’s also Gaz’s favourite one. You tell yourself it’s a coincidence.
“Why didn’t you fuck someone else then? Get it out of your system?” You say, and it comes out a little harsh, a little raw. It reveals more than you want to; you feel a little ill at the thought of Gaz with some faceless girl, holding her and making her laugh, her hands touching him like you do.
If Gaz picks up on the bite in your voice, he’s kind enough to ignore it. He just huffs a quick snort like the suggestion is ridiculous, his sloppy mouthing at your neck turning into a chaste affectionate kiss that feels totally at odds with the desperate motions of his hand pumping at his cock.
“Why would I do that when I had a girl waiting for me at home?” He asks, his voice so soft with you. “Never wanted anyone else.”
Your toes curl, guilt coiling in your stomach. You hate that you feel pleased that he’s waited for you, that he doesn’t want anyone else. You’re not being fair – it had been you who had broken it off, after all. He should be able to get with whoever he wants to. Conceivably, he is allowed to. Yet you can’t pretend that you wouldn’t have been sick to your stomach if he admitted that he had. 
God, you feel like such a hypocrite. Here you are, admittedly all too happy that Gaz has stayed faithful to a relationship that isn’t even intact anymore, and there he is, having just witnessed you come home with a stranger’s hands all over you.
“We’re not together anymore.” You whisper, when what you want to say is I’m sorry.
“I know.” Gaz replies, and it sounds like For now.
It’s not a surprise when the hand on your waist slips around to your belly, and then lower again as it slips beneath the waistband of your bottoms. You try and fail to suppress the wet gasp that’s pulled from your throat when his long fingers coast over the front of your knickers, finding your clothed clit with unerring accuracy.
“Oh, lace, baby?” He says, his breath catching in his eagerness before realisation seems to set in. “Oh. This was for your little date, eh?”
The guilt again, gnawing in your chest. You arch your back, simultaneously shying away and crowding your ass back up against him. It’s mortifying, being caught with your fancy underwear beneath your baggy unflattering sweatpants by your ex-boyfriend and having him know without a shadow of a doubt that you intended them to be seen by someone else.
“I was–” You start to say breathily, but Gaz doesn’t let you finish.
“It’s alright, sweetheart,” He murmurs, his lips ghosting along the shell of your ear. “I know, I know. But he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve you. Jesus, he didn’t even know what he fuckin’ had, ran like a coward–”
“Gaz–” You try again. You can’t help but feel as though you need to explain yourself, like the two of you should talk this through.
“You’re so soft, Jesus Christ.” He mutters, the side of his hand rubbing at the squishy flesh of your thighs as he strokes at your clit. “Were you always this soft?”
It sounds as though he’s trying to remember, desperate and wanting. You swallow thickly, closing your eyes as that familiar pleasure licks up your spine. He knows you so well, knows every part of you and exactly how to touch you, and you can hardly believe you ever entertained letting anyone else put their hands on you.
“I got a new body oil.” You breathe, distracted by his touch. “It’s– it’s vanilla scented.”
“Yeah,” He groans, and you shiver helplessly when you feel his tongue on your neck, licking a hot stripe up to your earlobe. “I can smell it.”
His index and middle fingers are so firm on either side of your clit, rolling circles around it without actually touching you properly. You sigh, back arching, but before you can actually enjoy it his hands are pulling away.
“Wait–” You gasp, your body crying out in protest as Gaz stops, pulling his hand back out of your pants.
Gaz just grunts, kisses your neck once more, then tugs your sweatpants down. You lift your hips up immediately, thoughtlessly, and then kick your sweats and knickers off impatiently. It’s a little embarrassing, especially when the cool air hits your slick, sticky thighs and you shiver.
“Oh god, fuck,” He groans, his plush lips dragging along the sensitive skin at the back of your neck. “You’ve ruined yourself, baby.”
It’s embarrassing to admit it, but it’s true. The dry spell you’ve experienced since the breakup has been little more than a mild inconvenience for the most part, but now it feels like your body is charged like a live wire. It feels like you’ve never been touched before, and you squirm backwards in an attempt to get any kind of friction again.
“Kyle–” You start to complain, but you don’t get to finish because then Gaz is slotting his cock in between your thighs.
He groans, taking a breath as he shuffles his hips closer. His pretty, glistening cock is wedged between the soft pudge of your thighs, the head of it nudging against the wet folds of your cunt every time he twitches.
“Let me put the tip in, baby.” He says, his voice gruff and wanting in your ear. “Literally just the tip, that’s it, huh? It’s not like actual fucking, right?”
In this moment, you think you’d agree to anything to get his dick into you. You had been all kinds of wound up even before you had come home to find Gaz waiting for you, but it’s like your body had some kind of Pavlovian response to Gaz’s touch because now you’re practically panting for him.
He’s right, after all. It’s not really fucking. It means that you can maintain the flimsy thin pretence that this means nothing.
“Okay.” You manage to say, though it comes out humiliatingly breathy. “Yeah, okay, the tip–”
Gaz’s cock is pressing into you before you can even finish your sentence, bullying into the wet grasping tightness of your cunt and making you gasp. 
You’ve gone long enough without getting laid that there’s a slight sting as he presses into you, but it’s overshadowed by the breathless relief. God, you’d forgotten how fucking good his dick felt inside you. He knows just how to use it too, and you wheeze slightly as he rocks an inch inside before pulling back again.
“Oh, fuck, baby.” Gaz moans throatily, the vibration of it rumbling right down your spine. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re so tight.”
“Mph,” You manage to make a muffled sort of sound against the couch cushion your face is pressed against, your mouth hanging softly open as you pant for breath.
True to his word, Gaz just presses the first inch or so inside. You almost hold your breath, waiting for the rest to slide inside and split you open, but he doesn’t. He just rocks back and forth, just missing hitting the spot inside that makes your nerves sing.
You wish, stupidly, fervently, that just this once Gaz would go back on his word. That he’d abandon his promise to just stick that first inch of his cock inside, that he’d slam home and stretch you wide and let his cock brush against the nerves just a little deeper inside you. But that’s not Gaz’s style; you know he’s not going to give you any more unless you beg for it.
Gaz rocks his hips in teeny tiny movements, just enough to have you squirming in frustration. You’re so wet that you know he could slide deeper with ease if he only just tilted his hips right, but he remains doggedly steadfast in pumping just the barest inch into you, groaning with the effort it’s taking to stop himself plunging fully inside.
“Oh god,” He breathes, sounding wrecked in your ear. “You feel even better than I remember.”
You don’t know how he can even say that when he’s barely even inside you, but no matter how much you wiggle and squirm, he just won’t slide any deeper.
“You’re such an asshole.” You slur out against the fabric of the couch, your cheek squished against the cushions. Your chin is a little wet – are you drooling?
Infuriatingly, Gaz doesn’t even argue.
“Mm.” He grunts, kissing the curve of your neck. “What’d I do this time?”
The fact that he has the gall to ask only irritates you further. You let out a quiet, grumbling noise, but his hand grips at your hip and stops you from writhing.
“Just… just put the rest of it in.” You say, craning your neck to try and look at him. 
Your eyes are wide and wet, pathetically teary. You’ve been craving intimacy like this for weeks now. Maybe longer, if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s the kind of pleasure you’ve only ever gotten from Gaz, and you wheeze as your body opens up under his touch. God, you don’t know how you thought anyone would ever be able to fuck you like Gaz does.
“Mm, you sure, baby?” He murmurs, nosing against the back of your skull. “Thought we were just cuddling.”
“Don’t be a dick.” You snap, your patience reaching the end of its tether.
He just laughs, a breathless sort of amused gasp, before snapping his hips forward in one sharp movement and seating his cock inside you. Though it’s what you had been demanding, the abruptness of it startles you and you yowl, your back arching.
“Sh, sh, shh, sorry, love.” Gaz pants, before sighing in wordless contentment as his broad chest curves around your back, his strong arm looping around your belly. “Oh, fuck. Missed this so much, you have no idea. I swear you were made for me, I couldn’t fit as well inside anyone else.”
“Just– just move.” You whine, a little plaintive. It’s humiliating how desperate you are, but there’s no turning back now. “Please, Kyle–”
Gaz pitches into movement instantly, as though he’s got something to prove. Or maybe he’s just worried that you’re going to change your mind. His hips pull back then snap forward again, and again. 
He’s so strong, his rhythm steady enough to rock you wildly back and forth on the lumpy couch cushions. You clutch at the fabric beneath you, gasping as his arm pulls you back and keeps you pinned against his hot, hard chest. 
“Oh.” You breathe, tilting your head back with a pathetic little whimper as he fucks into you from behind, the two of you plastered together like sardines in the tiny can that is your sitting room couch.
This is just what you needed, you think a little wildly. God, you’ve been craving physical touch like this for months, since the last time you had seen Gaz. It’s galling to admit that any other man is a poor substitute, unable to fill the void that your ex-boyfriend has left in your life.
“Kyle,” You whine, searching for something. You don’t even know what you’re asking for, but Gaz is as patient with you as ever.
He just hums, leaning in over your shoulder and pressing hot, hungry kisses along your jawline where it’s exposed as you lean your head back. The arm that’s been wrapped around your belly coasts lower, until his big lovely hand is pressed against your cunt. His fingers search for your clit and find it easily, confident and familiar enough with your body that he barely even has to try to make you feel good. 
Gaz coos soothingly at you and rolls your clit between his fingers as his thrusts begin to come faster and harder; he builds up a steady rhythm, one that lets him sink as deep inside of you as possible and quickly renders you speechless. The living room is soon filled with wet slapping sounds from where Gaz is pounding into you from behind, the grunts and pants and moans that both of you make rapidly drowning out the stupid action sequence playing out on the television from the long forgotten film.
Unbelievably, you feel a sweet stirring in your lower belly already. It’s with a sense of tired resignation that you acknowledge you’re going to come on Gaz’s dick, despite your original intentions for the evening. Typical. 
But he’s not going to last either, judging by the strained moans in your ear.
“Shit,” He curses, and then his teeth sink into the side of your neck. You shudder, the feeling of him sucking a harsh hickey into your throat sending electric sparks racing through your nerves.
You think, judging from the desperate edge to Gaz’s humping into you from behind, that Gaz has been yearning in your absence in the same way you have for him. You’re biting on your lip hard in an effort to stifle the plaintive, wanting little moans that are threatening to spill over, but your attempts at quieting yourself are mostly unsuccessful. It makes you feel a little crazy, but Gaz doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, the evidence that you want him too only seems to encourage him. 
Your eyes are half-closed as you fuck your hips back on Gaz’s cock, relishing the satisfied little cries he’s emitting into the back of your neck. You clutch clumsily at the strong arm he has wrapped around your belly, crying out yourself as the head of his cock hits that one spot inside you that makes you feel gooey inside. Your toes curl as your head tips back, your skull neatly cradled in the space between Gaz’s head and the couch cushions as he peppers kisses along the side of your neck.
The wet slapping of your bodies colliding is obscene in the quiet of the room; the stupid film still playing does nothing to drown it out. Your body is as limp and relaxed as a doll, allowing him to fuck into you from behind in a frenzy. Right now, you can’t even recall why you ever would have tried to deny yourself this pleasure in the first place.
His hips clap against your ass, those wet sounds getting even louder and more obscene than ever. Gaz is viscerally pleased with the way your ass bounces every time he fucks into you, because he moans and picks up the pace as if he just wants to watch your glutes jiggle every time his hips slap against you. 
That familiar ball of tension starts tightening in your abdomen, your body winding up for a long-awaited and much needed release. It’s so typical that this orgasm feels like it’s going to be a big one too, as though your body needed Gaz to be there to guide you through it in order to achieve proper satisfaction.
But then, in a move so infuriating you almost burst into tears, Gaz pulls out and leaves you high and dry.
“No!” You blurt, and it comes out almost as a wail. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry, baby.” Gaz says a little breathlessly. “Need you to turn over. Want to see you.”
As soon as you realise that he’s not trying to stop and that he’s just trying to reposition you, you’re quick to roll over so that you’re facing him. It seems like that’s exactly what he wanted, because he grins wide and reaches for your hips, eagerly pulling you closer.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He mumbles, his eyes like warm caramelised honey as they track over your face. 
You’re pretty sure he’s full of shit; you’re panting like you’ve run a marathon, you’re sweaty, your hair is dishevelled, and you’re still wearing the ugly sweatshirt you had put on earlier. Yet, even still, Gaz’s genuine little compliment has your heart flipping in your ribcage.
You can’t help but think that you and Gaz are like feral little animals right now. You can barely keep your hands off each other; now that you’ve rolled over to face him, his hands are roaming over your hips and ass like he’s trying to memorise the feel of you by touch alone. 
Embarrassingly, you’re no better – you lunge forward to kiss him, taking advantage of your new position, and he kisses you back hungrily.
Lying sideways on the couch like this is cramped, but Gaz uses his hand on your ass to tug you closer. Then he reaches down, long fingers gripping at your thigh before he pulls it up so that your leg is hitched over his hip.
Oh no, You barely have time to think it before his cock is pressing into you again, the slide made easy this time. Too intimate!
The panicked thought is swiftly dispelled the moment Gaz starts moving again, because goddamn this position is so much better. It’s almost difficult to tell where Gaz ends and you begin, so intertwined are your bodies. Gaz barely even allows for an inch of space. He fucks into you almost as soon as he’s pulled back, making for a fast, frantic pace that barely even gives you a chance to breathe.
You squeal, but your noises are half-moans as you rock your hips mindlessly into his rough, almost animalistic thrusts. Your leg hitched over his hip means that he’s grinding into you deep, deeper than you thought was possible. 
The way the two of you are fucking feels a little bit unhinged, rutting and humping your bodies together in search of mutual pleasure. It should be clumsy and graceless, yet somehow it feels good, as though your body remembers exactly how good Gaz has always treated you, as though your whole being is having a Pavlovian response to his touch. Pleasure burns in your gut, tight and hot, and you moan stupidly as Gaz pounds into you.
“Oh god.” You say without meaning to. The sound of your voice shocks you; you sound wrecked, as though you’ve been fucking for hours. It would have been embarrassing to reveal just how affected you were if Gaz wasn’t also clearly just as eager for it.
“Yeah,” He says, a hybrid of a groan and a gasp muffled against your lips as he clutches at your ass and drives into you wildly. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
You are too, you realise wildly. You’re struck by how quickly you’ve both gotten to this point. This whole encounter has been frenzied and feverish, as though the poorly stifled desire between you had turned explosive. 
Gaz kisses you again, and his teeth clack against yours slightly as he licks into your mouth. It’s messy and wet, and it sends a delicious throb of pleasure shooting through your belly. He’s acting so possessive that it’s making your head spin. It should definitely be sending warning bells ringing in your head, or red alarms flashing in your minds eye – it can’t be a good thing that your ex-boyfriend is currently fucking you on your couch like he’s trying to claim you. But you’re apparently a little stupid and very weak, and Gaz has always known how to fuck you dopey and thoughtless. Instead of worry, you get the edges of an orgasm beginning to fizz in your peripheral awareness.
Your pussy must flutter or tighten around him as that lovely sweet promise of release edges closer, because Gaz moans in anticipation and his eager thrusts take on an edge of purpose. You almost protest when he breaks off the kiss, but then you realise that he just wants to be able to focus on keeping his rhythm steady. It’s frenzied and hot, and you swear the air itself is crackling as he kisses sloppily at your neck and fucks you hard.
“Love you,” He slurs in your ear, breathless. “Love you so much, baby.”
His thrusts turn more shallow and far more forceful the closer he gets. Little moans and whines escape his lips between kisses, the sounds ratcheting up in intensity as the two of you rut together.
“Tell me you love me,” He pleads, “Please— tell me you fuckin’ love me, baby. I know you do. I know you—”
You shouldn’t say it. You can’t say it. Yet his cock is fucking you sloppy and stupid, and your mouth moves before you even register that you’re speaking.
“Love you too,” You whimper like a pathetic little idiot, revelling in the exquisite feeling of him grinding against your g-spot just right. It feels so good, you know you’re so, so close to orgasm.
The ache in your abdomen persists— you clench tightly around his cock, your body straining as the muscles in your core clench, trying so hard to push yourself closer to the orgasm you know is coming. You’re so close, so so close— it burns, aches, drives you mad. All you can do is mewl, wrapping your arms around his muscled shoulders as he pounds into you despite the awkward angle.
You can feel your clit throbbing, pulsing, your entire body trying so goddamn hard to climax that you feel like you’re about to cry. You’re burning beneath your skin and all you want to do is gnash your teeth into the elegant line of Gaz’s throat, to leave some kind of indelible mark on his lovely smooth skin.
“Please, please, please— yes, fuck— oh, Kyle,” Your words come out on the breath of an uneven gasp, stuttering with each movement of his hips, perfectly synchronized. 
His voice is low and hot in your ear as he pants, “Let me come inside you, baby— let me, please— fuck.”  
You should say no. Every logical part of you knows that you should tell him to pull out, and yet the wires are crossed when it comes to your actual response. Your leg tightens around his waist, heart seizing in protest at the idea of him pulling out.
“Yes.” You gasp, continuing your streak of impulsive decision-making. Your own hips twitch forward in weak little humps in an effort to fuck yourself onto his cock, your clit grinding against the dark curls at his pubic bone. “Yes, inside, please–”
Your breathy, eager permission seems to give him a burst of energy. He picks up the pace, his body curving into you as his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace. It feels as though your entire world has been narrowed down to Gaz, his broad shoulders blocking out your view of the rest of the room. You cling to him, breathless and messy as you whimper like a loser, your body trembling from the toe-curling zings of pleasure that keep shooting up your spine.
“Oh, oh.. Kyle, please–” You practically sob, your fingernails digging harshly into his shoulders. “Love you, love you, oh my god, I’m gonna come–”
Gaz grunts, obviously eager as his movements grow thoughtful and determined. He knows exactly what you want, what you need at this moment. His abdominal muscles tense and flex with every calculated, deliberate thrust. There is no way to escape the length of him moving hard and thick inside you – not that you want to escape so much as a second of it, of course.
“That’s my girl, always so fucking perfect.” He snarls as your body eagerly takes every dirty roll of his hips, palming at your thigh where it’s hitched over his hip. “Fuckin’ Christ, I’ve been dreaming of your cunt for fucking months, never wanted anything else–”
It makes no sense. Absolutely no sense, that those bizarre, lust-crazed possessive words are what drag you trembling, screaming over the crest of an orgasm so intense the walls of the room white out, each sweeping pulse leaving you unable to do anything but clench and shudder and arch beneath him.
Gaz fucks you like a damn machine; he gives you long, deep strokes over and over as you’re falling apart. Your body seizes around the hot flesh of Gaz’s cock, your mind going white as your cunt spasms, your hole clamping down and pulsing with every desperate, loud moan torn from your mouth. 
You feel like a sloppy little slut, your hips jerking towards him instead of away even as your orgasm washes through you and leaves your body tender and oversensitive. It feels so damn good to feel your mind washing blank and clear, not a single thought taking hold. 
When the toe-curling height of pleasure subsides, you find your nerves frayed and hyper-sensitive. A plaintive whine breaks out of your throat as Gaz keeps fucking you, beginning to thrust up frantically into your twitching pussy. Your body falls limp as Gaz bounces your pliable, warm body up and down his cock as he groans into your ear.
It’s like the rhythmic tightening of your drooling, creaming cunt has him losing his mind, because he grabs the meat of your hips and begins jerking your limp body back towards him. The slap slap slap! of the impact is so loud that every slap makes your breath catch.
“Fuck. I'm—” Your hands slap clumsily at his shoulders, reaching for anything to hold on to, but he doesn’t stop. "Kyle. Kyle—" It’s just your voice, hoarse, breathless, and Gaz bearing down on you, the sound of your bodies somehow growing sloppier, messier as he fucks you and it’s uncompromising, just skirting the edge of painfully overwhelming—
He breaks, shoulders trembling, head bowed into the curve of your neck as he lets out a long, desperate moan. It’s a drawn out, rough groan that is more sob than pleasure, and then you feel him inside you, spilling red hot and wet. Your own orgasm still isn’t fully finished, rolling leisurely through you in little aftershocks, your body still tightening and shivering, and it goes on and on and on.
He holds on to you throughout, as if he’s worried he’ll blow away into the wind without anchoring himself to you. His hips slow, but don’t fully stop. He rolls his hips into you slowly, leisurely, as though he has all the time in the world as he shivers in his come down. You blink, waiting for the colour to bleed back into your vision and for the ringing in your ears to stop, and for the first time all night you’re not thinking about anything at all.
“Please, Kyle.” You slur out stupidly. You have no idea what you’re even asking for; there’s just some vague, barely formed desperation floating around your painfully blank mind as you search for something.
“Mm.” Gaz hums. It feels like he’s everywhere, his broad chest filling up your sight and enveloping you. His hands roam over your body: the backs of your thighs, squeezing as his hands drift over your ass, up and down your back, your neck, his fingers catching around the thin strands of hair and the back of your neck, until finally he settles his fingers on your cheeks.
His palms stay there, just cupping your cheeks as the two of you struggle to regulate your breathing and regain your composure. That antsy sense of desperation eases a little when he leans in to nuzzle fondly at your face, dropping sweet little kisses along your cheeks and nose.
Gaz’s chest rumbles with a low, lovely laugh, his voice gravelly from his climax. “You’re overflowing, sweetheart.”
You let out a careless little sigh, before relaxing experimentally. You can feel a gush of warm seed begin to ooze out around Gaz’s cock, spilling out of your entrance and coating his balls. You wriggle lazily, cunt still pulsing as your wildly beating heart gradually slows to a lazy flutter.
You think you should probably be panicking now. You’ve just fucked your ex, told him you loved him, then let him come inside. With no condom. God, you’re stupid. But the wave of horror you’re expecting never comes. You feel too floaty to care; you suspect if it was anyone other than Gaz, the mortification would have knocked into you like a sledgehammer. 
“You’re gonna get cum on the couch.” You complain, the words coming out clumsy on your tongue.
Gaz just snorts. He makes no effort to pull out, and you have no desire to push him away. The intimacy of your sweat-slick skin pressed together is enough to take your breath away, and it’s only further compounded by the sensation of his cock gradually softening inside you.
“I’ll get it cleaned, love.” He drawls lazily, leaning in to kiss your swollen lips. “Or pay for a new one. Whichever you want.”
When you kiss him back he sighs fondly, one thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You’re still limp in his arms, boneless and spent as you wriggle greedily into his arms. His cock is still lodged inside you, and you’re sure he must be getting uncomfortably sensitive but to your relief he just moans in quiet appreciation when you try to worm your way closer.
“You made a mess.” You mumble against his lips. 
You’re being a little unfair, considering your own slick is coating your thighs and Gaz’s lower belly, but Gaz has always rolled with even the most unreasonable attitude you’ve thrown his way. So he just chuckles, and you feel a little insane as you wonder if anyone else would ever be as patient with you.
“Think we both did, doll.” He murmurs fondly. He leans in and catches your lips with his again, kissing you slowly with a lazy, lewdly open mouth. One hand curls against the nape of your neck, the other hand reaching up beneath your sweater and curling possessively against your left tit, sweeping over your sluggish, sated heartbeat.
You feel practically brainless after your orgasm, relaxed and loose in Gaz’s arms. There’s something to be said for how safe you feel with him, as much as you’d like to deny it, but reality is starting to slowly sink in.
You pull away from his mouth to try and collect yourself, unable to think when he’s kissing you like that. 
“Fuck.” You breathe, closing your eyes with a sigh. It’s slow, but you’re finally starting to think again. “We shouldn’t– we should have used a condom.”
Gaz’s eyes are lidded with fond amusement as he watches you quietly. His hand kneads at your breast absent-mindedly, as though he’s forgotten that he’s groping at you. 
“Don’t overthink it,” He murmurs, kissing your forehead again. “I saw your box of pills in the bathroom. And I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone but you.”
You tremble a little at his admission, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You feel like you’re losing your mind. Gaz is the most beautiful man you’ve ever met, funny and sweet and always so caring. You love him, even if it kills you a little to admit it, and you don’t know how to respond to his admission that he’s been faithful to you during the long months you weren’t together.
Gaz misinterprets whatever expression is on your face, thumb stroking soothingly over your cheek again. “We can get you a morning-after pill, if it’ll make you feel better.”
You don’t bother correcting him. You’re not that fussed over the morning-after pill – you’re careful when it comes to your birth control, and Gaz had always cum inside you when you were together. The weight of his cock inside you is comforting almost, the wet slide of his cum dripping out of you makes you feel as though you’d never been apart in the first place. You wonder how you could ever have been thick enough to think that someone else could fill Gaz’s place in your life.
As if he knows what you’re thinking, Gaz’s lips twitch. “That pillock you brought home would’ve been such a disappointment, darling.”
You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, exasperated. 
“You don’t know that.” You grumble, though you don’t pull away. You’re still all curled up against his chest, skin still slick and sticky from rapidly cooling sweat, your leg still slung over Gaz’s hip to keep his now-soft cock nestled inside you.
“Sure I do.” He says, and that cocky arrogance that both drives you mad and makes you swoon is rearing its head. He reaches down, and his thick fingers roll over your much-too-sensitive clit. “She missed me, gorgeous. Don’t think she would have liked some strange tosser pounding away at her with no idea how to please her.”
The way he talks about your pussy as though it has its own thoughts and feelings has you rolling your eyes again, though your cheeks burn with embarrassment. To your immense irritation, you think he might have a point. You haven’t come that hard in months, not since the breakup.
“Oh, shut up.” You sigh tiredly.
He snickers, and then shifts. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s pulling his hips back preparing to pull out. Your brain stalls, and you wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders in protest. You’re not ready to feel the invasive, aching emptiness that will no doubt throb through your core as soon as he’s not filling you up. 
“Stay.” You say, and it comes out as an embarrassingly breathy little plea.
Gaz goes practically limp, as though your hoarse request had taken the wind right out of him. You’re not expecting the way he brings both arms around your waist before rolling over onto his back, hauling you up to lay over his chest. His cock remains firmly lodged inside you, though the movement has resulted in his white creamy spend leaking out onto your inner thighs.
“Not going nowhere.” He mumbles, one hand stroking over your flank to soothe you. “I’m on leave for at least a month.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.” Gaz hums. He must sense that this is a delicate moment, because he doesn’t make any ribald jokes about having all month to fuck you like you’re expecting him to. He just presses a tender kiss to your temple, his lips lingering gently.
Usually, you’d probably be a little embarrassed by how clingy you’re being. You had been so damn determined not to fall into bed with Gaz after the breakup, but you’re so, so weak. His stupid honey brown eyes and gorgeous dimples and crooked grin is enough to send you to your knees. You rest your forehead against his chest as he holds you close; at least like this, you can’t see his stupid handsome face.
He’s obviously pleased with the way you’re snuggling into him, because his chest rumbles as he hums in satisfaction. He’s holding you tight like he thinks you’re going to slip away the moment he blinks.
“You okay?” He asks quietly.
You don’t answer immediately. There’s no way to brush this under the carpet, or to go back to pretending at detached disinterest. If you had wanted to play this off as just a bit of stress relief, then you should have rolled away from him the second he’d spilled inside of you rather than cuddling with him on the couch. There’s no way that you can claim that this was just a case of needing to get laid; you’re still clutching at him like a limpet, the two of you intertwined so tight that it’s difficult to tell when your limbs end and Gaz’s begin.
“I’m tired.” You sigh eventually, sidestepping the conversation that you know you’ll have to deal with eventually.
No doubt Gaz notices your not particularly subtle avoidance, but he doesn’t comment. He seems quite happy to indulge your every whim; he probably wants to avoid the this-was-a-mistake-and-we-need-to-maintain-boundaries conversation even more than you do.
“Let’s get you to bed then,” He murmurs, and then he surprises you by sitting up. You’re still laid out across his chest, which means that when he shimmies up into a sitting position, you end up sitting sprawled in his lap.
You’re still speared a little awkwardly on his soft cock, the sensation of him inside you making your eyelids flutter a little. You feel satisfied, your muscles still watery and weak, and you sigh a little mournfully when Gaz finally pulls his cock out of you. You ache, a deep throb that both stokes and settles you. It’s like a comfortable little reminder that Gaz was here, and that he left his mark on you.
You can feel the way he leans back just to get a glimpse of his spend trickling down the inside of your thigh. You pout and bury your face into his throat, your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders still as you try to hide your sudden self-consciousness.
But Gaz isn’t interested in giving you a moment to hide. You feel the edge of his teeth ghost the shell of your ear before he speaks, just low enough to make you shiver.
“Let me take you out tomorrow, sweetheart.” He says, and beneath his usual cocky countenance you hear the edge of a plea. “I’ll make up for ruining your date tonight. You can wear that little dress from earlier for me again.”
You feel exposed, stripped bare as you perch in Gaz’s lap. His hand strokes evenly over your spine, waiting patiently for your response.
“I want a fancy dinner.” You mumble, your fingers curling around his shoulders. “At a nice restaurant.”
You hear a shaky little exhale, and Gaz’s arms tighten around your waist. It strikes you that he’s relieved, and you feel your heart tremble in response. The knowledge that he wants you still is enough to have your own lungs seizing in response; you can’t quite bear to wonder if you’ve been wasting time for these past few months that you’ve been broken up. 
“Whatever you want.” He says it like a prayer, tilting his head in search of your lips again.
The kiss is easy, the months that you’ve been apart dissolving into nothing. You’re a little too stubborn to give in entirely and beg for him back just yet though, but you doubt it matters. You’ve already admitted your weakness for him in the middle of shagging, and you’re not stupid enough to hope that he’s somehow forgotten it. You’ve been trying so hard to shove all those feelings down deep, but you’re not too surprised that they’ve all come bubbling out. He’s got a month of leave. You have no doubt that he’s going to use that time to change your mind. You find that you don’t mind the idea as much as you thought you might; you suspect that you can be swayed all too easily.
You peek up at him, only to come face to face with his sweet, hopeful deep brown eyes. He’s not pushing, but you can see the weight of desire and yearning in every inch of his face. No doubt it’s mirrored on your own. You don’t think you could ever look into his pretty face and deny him anything.
You hum, then whisper the only answer you could ever give.
“Yeah. Okay. It’s a date, then.”
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palioom · 2 months
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starving
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summary: joel comes back from patrol to find you have kept your promise to him.
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
word count: 2.8k
warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; established relationship; overstimulation; orgasm denial/edging; dirty talk (joel has a filthy mouth); oral (f receiving); fingering; unprotected p in v; creampie; some softness in the end; choking (a lil)
a/n: we're back after almost a month of hiatus, with a fic also written last summer! I hope you enjoy
thank you to my love @aurasjournal for the moodboard 🖤
IMPORTANT as tlou is made by a Zionist, as well as part 2 being based on the oppression of Palestine by Israel, I urge you to educate yourself in the light of the genocide happening in Palestine, specifically Gaza, right now. I cannot in good conscience post for Joel without bringing awareness to the horrific things that have been going on for 5 months.
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follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates
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She had been wound up tight all week - always was when Joel was on patrol somewhere, made worse by the fact that the way back had been cut off by an unexpected, small avalanche.
She was worried about whether he was safe up there with Tommy. He would be. Joel was good at surviving things, she gathered that much from the little talking he had done with her.
He was an interesting man, only too quiet, never liked to talk about his past too much, so she had gathered everything of importance from Ellie or Tommy once they had become a little more serious.
Of course he’d be fine.
But if she had known he’d be gone for a little over a week instead of a day or two, she never would have promised him shit before he left.
“Don’t you dare touch yourself, darlin’.” He had said to her before he left, his rough, calloused palm on the softness of her cheek. “Wanna see her dripping and needy for me when I come back.”
Oh, dripping and needy she was. And it was even now, having fought the urge back ever since day three.
Day one was easy, two became just a little annoying, so used to having his thick length buried inside of her almost daily. Unless he had to patrol, which really was the only time he didn’t fuck her. 
Because even when he was too exhausted, she would simply turn him onto his back and bounce on his dick until she was satisfied. Much to his amusement.
On day three, the throbbing between her legs became more than annoying, it bothered her, clouding her thinking. It was tempting to just sneak her hand into her underwear at home and get herself off with her fingers.
But she didn’t, only squeezing her thighs together to find some semblance of relief.
After that, things had only gone downhill.
So when he was finally back, safe and unharmed, it hadn’t taken long to go from sweet kisses by the entrance to demanding ones in their bedroom.
Ready to burst right here.
Joel had barely managed to take his thick winter coat off before she had dragged him there, his large hands now opening her flannel, then wandering beneath her undershirt to feel her warm skin.
A hiss left her, caught by his mouth as he pushed his tongue against hers, goosebumps breaking out on her skin at how icy he felt. Pressing himself against her as if to warm himself.
He was fucking freezing, his fingertips a little numb despite his thick gloves, and she was so damn warm, he just couldn’t help himself.
“Fuckin’ missed you, sweetheart.” Joel rasped, hands leaving her skin to open her jeans as quickly as he could, slowly regaining the feeling in his fingertips. “Been a good girl for me?”
She hummed affirmatively, stilling when he shoved his hand down the front of her jeans.
“Oh, baby, she’s desperate.” 
His cold fingers pressed against her clit over the wet material of her panties, the change in temperature making her shiver. That was almost enough to make her cum, her hand coming to claw at his wrist.
“Not like this- Fuck me, Joel.” She whispered, desperate and impatient. 
Surprised that he just pulled his hand back out, now hastily working to get her undressed, her own hands started working on his pants.
The air felt even colder when he had her naked, pushing her onto the bed, leaning over her to kiss and nip at her neck, then down to her chest.
His beard scratched over her skin, her hands in his grey hair, slightly wet from the snow. 
Like a man starving, he sucked bruises into her skin, bit at her until small imprints showed. Showed she was his.
Joel knew he didn’t have to worry, there were no signs she would ever stray. Not with the way he fucked her, the way he took care of her.
She had it too damn good with him, he kept the creeps away and generally kept an eye out for her.
Still, he liked to show she was his, that no one else could have her, even if they tried.
His tongue found her pebbled nipple, sucking it into his mouth while his hand squeezed and pinched at her other breast, making her arch into his touch with a drawn out whine.
She was always so responsive to his touch.
So cold but so good, goosebumps on her skin, hands tugging at his hair.
“Stop teasing.” She whispered breathlessly, earning a harder bite from him, his dark eyes finding hers as he looked up at her. So hungry.
“Someone’s impatient.” His mouth wandered lower, despite his words, hands staying on her breasts when he found her wet heat.
Joel's tongue dipped into her and made her moan, just about ready to burst. Especially with the way his tongue flicked over her clit, sucking on it before letting the tip glide over it again.
Joel noticed how quickly her legs started shaking, her fingers curling into his hair tightly, his own digging into her thighs as he spread her open. Feeling her muscles spasm below her skin as he kept licking at her, eating her out like she was his last meal.
It happened way too fast, throwing her head back as the coil inside her tightened and snapped so suddenly, her body shaking as her orgasm rushed through her unexpectedly.
“Oh fuck- Joel-” She moaned, her legs fighting against his broad hands but he kept her spread open, working her through it.
Too worked up from him having been gone that she just couldn’t last any longer, feeling a little self conscious about just how quickly he had pulled her apart already.
“Seriously, sweetheart?” Joel asked when he lifted his head, looking up at her from where he kneeled between her open thighs. His beard was wet with her, a ravenous expression on his face. “That was way too damn short, darlin’.”
His words burned on her skin, unable to look him in the eyes so she stared at the ceiling instead. 
That really was embarrassingly fast, her fingers carding through his silvery hair.
“Sorry, Joel. I’ve been so damn horny all week and-”
He shushed her, pressing his lips to the inside of her thigh. His beard scratching her, making her shiver.
“Let’s go a little longer, I’m not done with you yet.” His chuckle was deep, tongue finding her middle again with a hum.
She whined, still a little sensitive as he worked his tongue over her clit repeatedly, back arching and her fingers curling back into his locks.
The heat came back immediately, settling in her abdomen, his tongue now moving down to find her soaking entrance, pushing inside.
Feeling her pulse around him when he fucked into her, his nose bumping against her clit in time with his movements, making her whine.
“Right there, Joel, yes!” She breathed, already feeling another orgasm approaching rapidly. “I’m close already, fuck. You feel good.”
Pushing her over a second time, he made her cry out, her legs shaking as he once again worked her through it.
But he didn’t stop. 
Joel just kept going, not giving her time to come down from her high, the buzz steadily moving through her body.
It was then that she realized he really was far from done with her, looking down at him with furrowed brows, while the glint in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.
“Joel-” She whined, feeling another rush coming, trying to scramble away from him somehow but he had an iron grip on her thighs.
He hummed against her, shaking his head No. She could swear he was grinning, doubling down on his efforts, tearing another orgasm from her.
The pleasure bordered on pain at this point, every nerve feeling like it was on fire as she shook, his tongue alternating between her clit and her pulsing hole.
God, he could be such an asshole, going on until tears were in her eyes, right on the brink of the fourth one.
Leaning back and licking his lips while he looked at her, squirming and shaking. A gasp left her when he worked two of his thick fingers into her, her legs clamping shut around his arm as he began to pump them in and out of her.
“Told you I’m not done with you yet, darlin’.” He rasped, using his other hand to open her legs again, teeth sinking into the soft skin before his tongue soothed over the marks. “She’s hungry still, must’ve been starving the whole time.”
Her hands fisted the sheets, head rolling from side to side as he built her up, scissoring his fingers before pushing into that soft spot inside of her again.
Then he let her fall, pulling his fingers out, laughing at the long whine that left her, the tears that rolled down her cheeks.
Like she didn’t know what she wanted, to cum again or to be left alone.
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry.” Joel chuckled, like he was mocking her. Somehow she liked it, the pulsing between her legs becoming worse, feeling empty. “Thought I’d give your little pussy some lovin’, she must have been so neglected.”
She lifted her head, trying to glare daggers at him but failing when his fingers rubbed over her clit, once again building her up just short of the peak, then removing them, his hand finding her breast, groping and squeezing at it.
What wonderful sounds she made, first feeling too much and now too little.
Maybe he should leave for extended periods more often, she clearly enjoyed the way he treated her right now, making up for time lost but also depriving her of what she really wanted.
“You’re mean.” She gasped, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.
She looked so fucked out already, yet he hadn’t even gotten his fill.
“I can be mean, sweetheart.” Joel said, letting go of her again and standing up, just watching how she writhed, deprived of his rough palms. “Wouldn’t like me when I am.”
“Joel, please!” She cried, one of her hands wandering over her stomach and to her aching pussy. But Joel was quicker, grabbing her wrist tightly.
“Don’t worry, baby, gonna get what you want when you’re fucking patient.” He said, letting go of her, moving to take off his pants. “Spent a whole week without me, can wait a couple minutes longer, can’t you?”
She watched him, growing frustrated at just how slowly he seemed to take off his jeans, then his underwear.
Then, finally, his hard cock was springing free, head glistening with precum.
Hovering over her, he nestled in between her legs.
She squirmed more, her hands running over his arms, feeling his muscles flex beneath the skin, coming up to cup his cheeks.
“So, so needy.” He chuckled, taking himself in hand, hitting her sensitive clit with the fat head of his cock a few times. The action made her whimper, fingers curling into his arms. 
Shooting electricity through her, her whole body taut, just needing him to push inside of her.
“Joel, can you fucking move?”
The corner of his lips curled slightly upwards, finding her entrance before pushing inside with one fluid motion, knocking the air out of her at the sudden intrusion.
His lips attached to her neck with a groan, feeling how tight she was gripping him. Like she wanted to strangle his dick, always so damn tight.
“Don’t get mouthy with me, sweetheart.” Joel said, hooking her leg over his hips, squeezing the soft flesh.
“‘M not.” She gasped, feeling so full of him, ready to burst again.
Slowly he began to move, shallow at first before thrusting deeper.
Pushing her up higher on the bed with each thrust, making her cry out and hold onto him, her head too dizzy and hazy as he fucked into her, letting out the week’s frustrations.
All that escaped her were incoherent ramblings, slurred whimpers and moans as she threw her head back, exposing more of her neck to him, his lips still dancing over the skin. 
“Shut up pretty fast with some cock in you, sweet darlin’.” He chuckled, voice strained and clearly losing himself slowly. Her wet pussy and her cockdrunk face were too much even for him after he’d been away from her that long. 
He’d gone without it for longer, but now that he could fuck her every night, even just a day had seemed like an awfully long time.
“Joel-” She mewled, voice high-pitched and so, so desperate.
“Yeah, tell me who makes you feel this good.” Joel said, lifting his head to look at her, one of his broad, rough hands coming up to wrap around her throat. Making her gasp as he squeezed the sides lightly, feeling her pulse throb in time with her sweet hole around him. “Say it, baby, keep sayin’ it. Whose cock is feeding your starvin’ pussy?”
She opened her eyes, finding his dark ones. 
“You- Yours, Joel!” She cried out, feeling her head become lighter as he cut off the blood flow, hazy smile on her face, jaw slack as he fucked into her. The words caught on her breath as she forced them out, stuttering. “Your cock, fucking- Fucking me so good!”
Joel almost snarled, thrusting harder, losing his rhythm. Jaw set so tight she could see the veins throb on his neck.
“That’s right, pretty girl. Hungry little pussy, what a poor thing.” He groaned, grip tightening around her throat, grinning at the way her eyes rolled into the back of her head. “C’mon, be a good girl and let me feed it.”
The coil inside her snapped again, almost painfully as she sucked in a shaky breath, her cries muffled by his mouth when he bent down to slot his lips over hers. Her heels dug into his lower back, pulling him deeper as she trembled, nails digging into his skin.
Everything hurt as he kept pounding into her, her veins filled with fire, his skin against hers hot, like it was burning her, her clit too sensitive as the coarse hair above his dick kept brushing against it.
But she loved it, the pleasure that wasn’t bordering on pain anymore, but actually hurt her in the best way possible, her entire body too stimulated.
It didn’t need much more for him to break, stilling inside her with a hiss that was swallowed by her mouth as he spilled himself inside of her, giving her exactly what she needed. Filled to the brim by his cock and his cum, humming as the pulsing of him didn’t seem to end, his hand around her throat just tightening a little more.
He loosened his grip when he felt her legs falling away from his waist, moving back to look at her face, blissed out while her body became boneless beneath him.
“My good girl.” He said, seeming less tense as he hovered above her still, the corners of his mouth slightly curled upwards, his hand moving up to brush some hair from her damp forehead. “Been too hungry.”
She giggled, catching her breath, feeling the blood rush back into her head as she laid there, feeling him soften inside of her.
“Not anymore.” The words were barely more than a quiet mumble, her weak hand coming up to cup his cheek, his coarse beard biting into the soft flesh of her palm. “Really missed you, though.”
In the quiet afterglow, the worry finally crept back in. She had been too pent up, too excited when he had walked into the door earlier, relieved to see him back but her need for him drove away all the worries of the past week.
Joel saw the change in her face, kissing her forehead tenderly.
“Been at the lodge when it happened, don’t worry, sweetheart.” He said, seeing her nod in understanding.
Silence fell between them, and she grew tired as she looked up at him, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Joel had worn her out pretty well, boneless and spent.
After pulling out slowly, he helped her get under the covers, his body finally warm again as he pulled her against his chest.
“You can take longer patrols, you know.” She said, her hot breath fanning over his neck where she had buried her face. “Hated you being away but if you fuck me like this every time you come home…”
Her words trailed off into the silence, making him chuckle.
“But no avalanches.” He said, making her giggle. “Love when she’s starved for me, sweetheart. Will see what I can do tomorrow, yeah?”
She nodded, eyes closing and enjoying his warmth again, his firm body against hers, strong arm wrapped around her waist.
Yeah, if he fucked her like this every time he came home from a long stretch of patrol, she definitely could manage being away from him for some time.
Starving for his touch and his cock.
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thoughtssvt · 3 months
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"darling..." nanami hummed, his hazel eyes peeking over the top of his thin, wire glasses. his book-filled hand dropping into his lap.
"handsome..." you responded back in the same tone, not even sparing a glance away from the text on your phone though you stopped reading as soon as he called for you.
"you know that's uncomfortable right?" kento continued his patient drone, book gently falling closed in his hand.
"what ever do you mean, kento?" you chimed lightly, holding your phone closer to your face to hide your growing grin.
"i mean, do you know that the ice cubes you're putting on my back are uncomfortable?" he clarified, lips tugging into a smirk as he gestured to your legs that so happened to disappear behind his back, cold feet seeking shelter under his shirt.
you gasped playfully, denying you would ever do such a thing.
"is that so?" he matched, shifting so his fingers could dance atop your ankles.
"no..." you warned, "kento, no!" you couldn't help a laugh from escaping, attempting to tug your legs closer to your body only to be stopped, nanami's hands encompassing your ankles. "kento, i'm serious!" despite your words there was no edge to it, chuckles filling in the spaces.
"what ever do you mean, darling?" he parroted with his charming smile, relaxed bangs brushing against his cheekbones as he continued his attacks up your legs, fingers tickling your skin, pushing you toward a breathless fit of cackles.
"i give up! i give up!" you rose your white flag, throat already feeling raw from the shrieks you let out at his very unfair combo to your sides. "i promise– i promise i won't put my feet under– under your shirt again!" you gasped out between giggles, hands shooting down to get his to stop.
by the time you'd caught your breath you two were already face to face, nanami craning his neck to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. "never stop, i'd warm your little ice cube toes even in the dead of winter."
"promise?" you asked before landing a gentle kiss against his jaw, smiling to yourself in mischief as you glued your ice-cold fingers to the sides of his torso, snorting lightly when you felt him go ridged, a slight shiver shaking his posture.
"oh, you are an absolute menace," he chuckled, keeping your hands against his body by sandwiching them under his own, your smiles intertwining, chuckles buzzing through your lips as he kept you warm and cozy despite your ice cube toes.
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edit : i previously used the phrase "uncle! uncle!" (now reads: "i give up! i give up!"). i changed it for the clarification that nanami is not your uncle lol in the US it's a phrase you'd say (stemming from a 19th century joke) when you admit defeat and don't want to keep fighting anymore. thank you!
A/N : had me giggle and kicking my feet the entire time I wrote this. hoping to unite the fellow ice cube toes community. god I love him. thank yall for giving so much love to my first nanami x reader headcanon part. I hope yall enjoyed this too! thank you so much for reading 。^‿^。
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sweet nanami x reader hcs pt. 1 | jjk men x reader masterlist
bread divider by @ymmyomm
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