Can You Write A Sequel To The Sparring Levihan Where They Actually Spar And End Up Doing The Dirty? 🔥🔥💦

Can you write a sequel to the sparring levihan where they actually spar and end up doing the dirty? 🔥🔥💦

Hello!! Long time no see :) This is a sort-of sequel to the sparring fic but I'm afraid there's no sparring, only a heaping helping of frustration and sweet, blissful relief when the tension finally breaks. Anyway they fuck in a tent.

Ever since the sparring incident, Levi had found himself itching to be close to her, restless whenever they were in close proximity. His fingers would twitch at his sides and his eyes would wander helplessly, searching her, examining every inch until he had her form guiltily memorised, but he had always maintained some distance. He had deliberately kept Hange at arm's length, in spite of every screaming, feral instinct that begged for the opposite. His own apparent lack of control unnerved and frustrated him. Levi had been very careful, until now, not to put it to the test.

"Absolutely not."

"Oh c'mon Levi, it's one night!"

"No."

"You're being unreasonable."

"I'd rather crawl up a titans asshole and die than share a tent with you."

"That's a little hurtful, you know."

"Don't care."

Hange folded her arms and glared over at him. Levi averted his gaze coolly, rolling his eyes sideways to stare at the pasty, shivering recruit beside them, the ripped canvas of their own tent dangling pathetically from their hands. Levi had chewed them out enough already—this situation would have been perfectly avoidable if the idiot had checked their supplies before they set off—and they looked suitably abashed by the entire affair, but Levi curled his lip at them for good measure. They wilted under his gaze.

"Well, tough," Hange said. She turned to the recruit with an appeasing smile and handed over her own pack. "Use this for now. Please don't forget to check the condition of your own equipment in future."

The recruit nodded and snagged Hange's tent, scurrying away with a few fleeting, terrified glances at Levi as they went. Their fear was justified; Levi was feeling a little murderous, watching Hange scoop up his tent and march to a suitable location. He clenched his fists at his side and followed after her.

"Oi. Share with Mike."

Hange snorted. "He barely fits in his own tent."

"Nifa, then. Or Moblit."

Hange looked over her shoulder at him. "That'd be inappropriate."

"And this isn't? Piss off, Four-eyes."

"What's inappropriate? We're equals aren't we, Captain? It's just one night, I'm sure you can manage."

Levi disagreed. Vehemently. But he clamped his mouth shut, and watched Hange with some apprehension as she laid out the canvas and poles for Levi's tent, wishing it were simply an imbalance in status that bothered him so much.

They set up the tent in very one-sided conversation. Hange chatted endlessly as they worked, and Levi offered her half-assed grunts and monosyllabic responses until she ceased expecting anything from him at all, and talked continuously instead. Levi ground his teeth when her hand brushed his to pass him the hammer, her fingertips rough and warm, electric where they grazed his palm.

They had limited room to manoeuvre, within the tent. Hange laid their mats and blankets inside, and Levi managed to wedge both of their bags down where their feet would go, but the tents weren't designed for two sleepers—they were compact little things, just long enough and narrow enough for one well-built soldier. He eyed the mouth of the tent, and then slid his gaze sideways to where Hange stood, stooped to peer in as well.

"It'll be a squeeze," she said, straightening up. She jammed her hands on her hips and grinned at him. "But we'll manage."

Levi scowled. "Eat shit."

Hange seemed as unbothered as she ever was by his churlish response. She stretched well, her arms reaching high towards the pink sky, as though already preparing for the long, cramped night ahead. Levi followed the line of her body from her feet right up to the tips of her fingers; her long, lithe, lean frame was only accentuated by the belts of her gear, and Levi noticed for the first time how tight they were against her. They pinched into her thigh, the muscle bulging between the thin leather straps. Levi's mouth watered with the unbidden urge to sink his teeth into the firm flesh. He swallowed reflexively, and pulled his gaze away from her legs and up to her face, where, to his mortification, he found Hange watching him with a curious tilt of her head.

"Something wrong?" She asked. Levi curled his lip and turned away quickly to hide his flush, stomping towards the stone pit and throwing a few sticks into it to start a fire.

The evening passed strangely. Time seemed to drag on, caught between pointless conversation, listening to Hange talk animatedly with her squad while his own team listened with rapt attention over their steaming bowls of stew. It was, at the very least, a good excuse to watch her. It wasn't so obvious that he was staring when Hange was the centre of everyone's attention. And then, all too soon, the sun had fallen beyond the horizon and the sky had grown dark, lit by the pale glow of a full moon, and the soldiers were retiring to their own tents.

Hange stayed up to clear the dishes. She had waved away her squads proferred help, but it felt rude to go to bed without her, and so Levi squatted down beside her and wordlessly began rinsing the leftover bowls.

"You don't have to," Hange said, though gave no objection when he fished the bowl from her hand and dipped it into the pail.

"You'd do a shit job on your own," he said gruffly. He ran his thumbs around the inside of the shallow dish, sweeping greasy residue from the polished wood. From the corner of his eye, he saw Hange green. She shifted in her squat, settling by his side and taking the bowl when he held it out for her, running a grotty towel over it. Levi scowled. He wanted to berate her for using the dirty fabric on freshly washed dishes, but then she moved again, and her knee nudged into his own, and all decent thought was wiped abruptly from his mind.

Stupid, how such simple contact unbuckled him so easily. Her knee was warm through the fabric, and pressed more firmly against his own whenever she shifted to pile the bowls into their crate. It took an inordinate amount of concentration for Levi to continue his task; he slowed considerably, taking his time to rinse each dish, focusing intently on the feel of the grain beneath his fingertips, the way carved wood sloped in a low curve and rose again, catching his nail on the thin lip around the rim of the bowl. Anything to keep his mind occupied, to keep his thoughts from straying.

Hange hummed contentedly as she worked. The crackling fire was dimming, embers glowing bright in the darkness, and there was a constant, low hum of chatter as the soldiers readied themselves for bed. In any other circumstance, Levi might have called the atmosphere peaceful.

But the dishes were almost done. The food had been packed and hiked up a height, safe from any scavengers. The tents were set, and the first watch had settled at their posts. There was nothing peaceful at all, about the prospect of what was to come next.

Hange straightened up when the last dish was dried and packed, hefting the crate up into her arms. It must have been heavy, loaded with pots and pans, bowls and utensils, but Hange lifted it with little more than a quiet grunt as the weight settled in her arms. Levi's gaze caught on her hands. Long, thin fingers, rough and dry from manual labour and a chronic lack of self care. Veins webbed from her knuckles to her wrists, over her forearms, disappearing beneath the turned cuffs of her sleeves where she'd rolled them up. She gripped the edge of the box, her knuckles white under the strain.

"Thanks," Hange said. Levi blinked dazedly, and rolled his eyes up to her face. She blew a few loose strands of hair from her eyes and smiled brightly down at him. "I'll put these away and then we can settle for the night."

Levi's stomach knotted. He nodded mutely, straightening up and dusting himself down as Hange loaded the crate onto the cart, securing a tarp over it. Without her cloak, Levi could see the curve of her ass as she bent forward, accentuated by the leather straps curving beneath each cheek. He bit the inside of his mouth and turned away, painfully aware of the growing tightness in his groin.

Hange met him outside the tent. They stared into the mouth of it for a long while, silent. For Levi's part, he was prolonging the inevitable. Spending the night pressed up against Hange in a tiny one man tent was the stuff of his every fantasy; feeling the length of her body flush against his own, long, strong legs tangled with his, hearing her every breath panted in his ear. It was exciting. Tantalising.

It was also his worst fucking nightmare.

The Hange in his fantasies was a very different person to this Hange, who stood at his side, blissfully unaware. For all her smarts, Hange had failed to notice exactly what she did to him. She treated him like she did anybody else, all bright smiles and casual touches, ignorant of all the nights Levi spent with his hand down his pants, fisting his cock to the thought of her.

"Which side do you want?"

Levi rolled his eyes to the side, though he barely dared to look at her. He didn't much care either way. Finding comfort was going to be an impossible task, regardless of which side he slept on.

"Left," he said anyway. Hange nodded, and began toeing off her boots. Levi did the same, setting them just under the canopy in the slim chance it rained, and crawled quietly into the tent, flopping straight onto his side with his face to the canvas. He waited with his breath held for Hange to climb in behind him, but was met instead with the metallic click of buckles outside. Against his better judgement, Levi looked up.

Hange had already unfastened the strap across her chest and detached the back panel of her gear. She deftly unbuckled the belts at her hips and her thighs until they were loose enough, and then she wiggled, shimmying out of the leather harness. Levi choked. He covered the little noise with a gruff, "Oi. The hell are you doing?"

Hange looked up at him. Bent forward the way she was, her hair fell haphazardly about her face, messy and unkempt as ever. She blinked at him through her fringe, and cocked her head.

"Hm? Taking my gear off."

Levi scowled. "I can see that, shit head. Why?"

"...so I can...sleep? Comfortably? Like a normal person?"

She looked down again, stepping neatly out of the leather pooled around her feet. She tucked the straps under the canopy with their boots, and then, to Levi's horror, she unfastened the button on her pants, and pushed those down her legs, too.

"Hange," he hissed, barely averting his gaze. He was thankful for the darkness. The heat in his face was unbearable; the moonlight would hide his blush, at least a little. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"It's hot," she said. She ducked into the tent, stuffing her discarded pants down by their bags. "I'll sweat if I keep those on."

She was still kneeling in the mouth of the tent. Levi flashed his eyes to her, intent on keeping his gaze up, towards her face, but Hange's fingers were making quick work of her button-down shirt, and the fabric was beginning to splay open, revealing smooth skin, and the wrappings around her breasts.

"For fucks sake," he grumbled. He threw himself back onto his side, scowling at the canvas.

"What?"

"Have some fucking decency," he bit out. To his immense irritation, Hange only laughed.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before," she said. Which was true, technically. But Levi had pictured far more than this, far more than she could ever imagine, and the guilt of that sat heavy in his gut.

Levi lay stiffly as Hange finally clambered into the tent. She pulled the flaps closed, knotting the straps together tightly, and then flattened herself out over the mat and let out a long sigh.

"What a day," she mused quietly. Levi felt her shift behind him, and heard her small, strained groan as she stretched. Levi had wedged himself as close to the side of the tent as possible, but he could still feel her, brushing at his back whenever she moved.

He kicked his foot back, finding her calf and shoving her away. "Stick to your own side," he said, nudging her again. Hange kicked him back and she had the audacity, again, to laugh at him.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," she said, and Levi felt her move again. Her finger poked into the middle of his back. "But this tent is a little too small for sides. We'll just have to make do. I should warn you, I'm a hugger."

"Hug me and you're sleeping outside," Levi snapped. Hange snickered.

"You'd make a lady sleep out in the open?"

"Some lady. Stripping in a tent with a man."

Hange snorted, then made a dismissive noise, and Levi could picture her waving him off. "It's just you, so it's fine."

Levi frowned. He wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, and whether he was supposed to be offended by it or not. Either way, it wasn't fine. It was so fucking far from fine.

"I suppose I'm not much of a lady, anyway," Hange said, almost absently. Levi grunted his agreement. If she had expected him to refute her, she didn't sound at all disappointed by his lacklustre response. She laughed quietly, and shifted again. Her body felt hot at his back, too close. "Say, Levi?"

"What."

"Do you like women?"

Levi thought guiltily of Hange and his every sordid fantasy, every wayward thought he'd had about her of late. Did he like women? It was hard to say. Levi had never given it much thought before. He'd had sex, a handful of times, but his experiences had not been limited to women, and none had been borne of any distinct attraction. Before Hange, Levi had never particularly desired any one person.

"None of your business," Levi said, in lieu of a proper answer.

Hange huffed behind him. He could picture that pout of hers, the comical, exaggerated jut of her lip, and quick as a flash it was gone again, replaced by a grin that reflected perfectly in her tone when she said, "I'm curious. For all we've talked, I don't know a whole lot about you."

"Stay curious."

"Gaaah, you're no fun, Levi," she drawled. Levi felt her loom closer behind him. He snatched up one of the blankets lumped beneath them and yanked it free, pulling it over himself. It was a thin barrier, but a barrier nonetheless.

Hange must have taken the hint. She said nothing more, but she tossed and turned for a long while as she tried to get comfortable, sighing and huffing in the heat.

Levi was acutely aware of her presence. It set him on edge, body stiffening every time she so much as twitched behind him. His brain worked in overdrive, listening for every little noise outside the tent, or counting the stitches along a seam in the canvas, anything to avoid thinking about Hange. She was so, agonisingly close, and in the confined space he could smell her, salty and earthy as usual, and he could hear her breathing, settling into a long, slow rhythm as she fell into sleep.

It was too easy to imagine a million different scenarios. How simple it would be to roll over now, cover Hange's half bare body with his own. To nudge her legs apart with his knee and settle into the cradle of her thighs, kiss her lips—softly parted as she sleeps—and rouse her awake. He could so vividly imagine the way she would feel, hot and wet through the thin fabric of her underwear, pliant against the press of his cock as he grinds into her. It would be so easy. Too fucking easy.

He shook the thought from his head, curling his hands into tight fists. He felt too hot, a little dizzy in the cramped space. His cock was hard, and Hange made a soft sound in her sleep, somewhere between a sigh and a moan. Levi bit his lip and turned his face into his pillow. Torture. That's what this one; some cruel punishment, and Levi suspected he deserved it, the way he had been thinking about her lately.

He willed himself to calm down, breathing evenly, deeply. His eyes stung, itching with tiredness, but his every muscle was too tense, on edge. And whenever sleep threatened, his mind wandered, straying dangerously to thoughts of Hange, her bright smile and the lilt of her laughter as Levi pins her down, her wrists clamped above her head in one of his hands. The tent is small and cramped and Hange's breath misted on his face as she giggled, sweet and lilting, breaking into a moan when Levi slid his hand down between them, over her belly, beneath the waistband of her underwear.

He jolted awake again. Cursing quietly, he shifted, adjusting the crotch of his pants to alleviate some of the pressure. Sleep fogged his mind, pulling him under time and time again and teasing him with dream after agonising dream of Hange. Sometimes she was just looking at him, her head cocked in that curious way as she waited for him to speak, to do something. And sometimes her gaze was darker, low and hooded, and her hands and lips met him half way when he moved to her. Sometimes she was already putty in his hands, whining and writhing against the rumpled blankets, and sometimes the tight heat of her was frighteningly real, vice-like around his cock.

He woke again and again, sudden and disoriented. Struggling to shake the pictures from his mind before he tumbled back into sleep.

In the next dream, Hange was pressed snug up against his front. He was molded to the curves and contours of her body, his knees wedged into the crook of her legs, hips flush to her ass, his chest to her back. Her hair tickled his nose, and he tucked his face into the nap of her neck to escape the feathery feeling. She felt so warm against him, and the curve of her ass was soft against his cock. He was sleepy, in this dream, drifting in and out of consciousness, but Hange's body was a constant, pressed tightly back into his front.

She shifted against him, wriggling her hips back, and Levi snaked an arm around her waist to pull her in tighter. His hips pressed forward, slow and lazy; she felt good on his aching cock, deliciously pliant. He let out a breathless moan against her neck, and Hange made a quiet, pleased sound in return.

The pleasure built slowly, this time around. Levi was in no hurry, content to sleepily rut against her. Hange's breathing picked up some, shorter and shallower, broken now and then with tiny, thready moans when Levi ground harder into her. He flattened his palm on her belly—the skin was softer than he'd ever imagined before, smooth and hot, twitching beneath the tickle of his fingertips. A memory swam forward, of Mike, all those months ago, pinching so easily at her side, and he wondered if Mike had ever touched her like this. The thought reared something ugly and possessive in him. His fingers dug into her skin, dragging her back, and his mouth nudged against the skin of her shoulder, teeth scraping there. Hange gasped, but made no move to pull away.

He could taste the sweat on her. Her skin was gritty on his tongue from the dry, dusty air. It should have been unpleasant, maybe, enough to turn him off, but Hange tilted her head against the pillow, exposing more of her neck to him, and Levi obliged helplessly.

"Ah, Levi..." She breathed his name like a prayer, quiet, but it boomed in the cramped tent. Levi's cock jumped, hips flexed. He nipped at her again, revelling in the way his name had sounded, spilling almost silently from her lips.

Everything was so vivid. The way she tasted, the way she felt. Her quick, panted breaths and the quiet little whines that bled through, bitten off to keep quiet—sensible, Levi thought, sucking a bruise into the crook of her neck. They were in a tent, after all. Anyone could hear them.

Except, Hange had never bothered keeping quiet before, in his other dreams. She had been incredibly vocal, whether she was laughing, or moaning, or crooning obscenities in his ear. He had never been able to taste her, either. Never felt each grain of dirt on his tongue.

He blinked groggily.

Moonlight crept through thin spots in the canvas where the seams connected. The spilled like light through a cracked door, slanting into the tent, but Levi's view of it was obscured by a head of messy brown hair.

He blinked again.

Hange—Hange, real and whole, not a dream—was pressed flush to his front, and she was panting breathlessly, her stomach rising and falling sporadically beneath his hand where he held her tight. She squirmed, and Levi bit off a groan. He was hard. Painfully hard, cock wedged against Hange's ass.

"Shit." Levi's voice was thick and hoarse from sleep and arousal. He moved sluggishly, pulling his face away from her neck, the beginnings of shame and disgust roiling in his gut. What had he done? Lost control, is what he'd done, humped his comrade—his superior—like a dirty fucking dog. An animal. "Shit. Fuck. Sorry, Hange—"

He had tried to slide his hand from her waist, but Hange caught him about the wrist and held him tightly. He stilled, frozen. Her grip was firm, but not painful. Levi wouldn't have blamed her for crushing his wrist if she'd wanted to. He deserved that much. But she didn't, just guided his hand back to her belly, and pressed until he splayed his fingers against her again. She wriggled, and Levi muffled a sudden grunt against her back; the move teased his cock mercilessly.

"Sorry," he said again, reflexive. He felt Hange shake her head.

"It's fine. It's—" she moved again, more insistent, this time. Levi's hips curved helplessly forward, seeking pressure, friction, and Hange let out a shuddering breath, pushing back to meet him. She bit back another sound. Levi's fingers curled at the noise, pads pressing into the soft skin of her stomach.

"Fuck," Levi said again. This couldn't be happening, couldn't be real. Only in his wildest fucking fantasies could he have Hange like this. But it was real. The way she rolled her hips back was real, and the soft, barely contained sounds bleeding out of her were real, and the way she gripped his wrist again, pushed his hand down this time, low, lower, until he was cupping her over her underwear—that was so very real.

"Shit, Hange," Levi breathed. He ran his fingers over her. She was wet, drenched through the fabric, heat radiating from her and her hips shuddered when Levi stroked a line over her, breath jumping. She took him by the back of the hand and moved him where she wanted her, applying pressure—just as brazen as he'd imagined her to be. He let her lead him, circling over her clit in a way that made her tremble, body curling in on itself. She whined, turned her face into the pillow to muffle the sound.

Levi curled with her. He bit at her shoulder again, delighting in the way it made her tremble while his fingers worked her over.

He had imagined this more times than he could count. Far more than he'd ever care to admit. The way she would feel, the way she would sound—the way she would look. He couldn't see her like this, with her face buried in her pillow, and he was struck by the sudden urge that he wanted to. Hange might regret this in the morning, she might hate him for it. If she was giving him this one chance, he wanted to make the most of it.

He pulled his hand from between her legs and raised himself up. Hange gave a disappointed whine, turned her face to look at him as he moved over her, hovering.

She blinked tired eyes up at him. She looked just like Hange always looked, sans glasses, with her messy hair and chapped lips and dirt smeared on her skin, but the streak of moonlight cast her in a soft, pale glow, glinting in her eyes and catching on the soft pink of her cheeks. The effect was so jarring it made him pause. He froze staring down at her, until Hange moved to lie on her back, and her hands crept up to his waist, pinching into his shirt.

"Why'd you stop?" She asked, voice barely above a whisper. It's such an innocent question, and Hange said it so simply, as though she were asking for something as innocuous as a massage, like Levi hadn't been dry humping her in his sleep. He dipped low, eyes darting over her face, falling again and again to her lips. Dry, cracked, stupid fucking lips.

Levi moved closer. Hesitated. He gave Hange time to move, if she wanted to, to push him away, but she watched him with that infuriatingly calm gaze, and Levi's composure broke.

He kissed her like he was angry with her. He was, in a way; angry that she had insisted on sharing a tent, angry that she had stripped down to her underwear right next to him, like it was nothing. Like it would have no effect on him. Angry that she looked the way she did, sounded the way she did, angry that he could never quite get her out of his head. Their teeth cracked painfully, but Hange opened her mouth to him readily, her tongue licking quick and sharp behind his teeth, against the roof of his mouth. She kissed him back like she had been starving for it. Levi allowed himself a moment to wonder (hope, maybe) that she had been.

He nudged her legs apart with his knee. She shifted easily, making space for him to settle between her spread thighs, and Levi felt the hitch of her breath when he touched her again, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of her underwear this time. He thumbed at her clit, rubbed his fingers over her opening, and Hange canted her hips into him, hissing her yes against his lips.

It's a funny thing, how loud every little thing becomes when quiet is a necessity. Hange's ragged breathing echoed like thunder, every hitch and start painfully audible in the quiet night. The rustle of the sheets and the wet, smacking sound of his fingers fucking into her, sloppy, sucking kisses and Levi's own breath, shaking and dragging rough in his throat, all of it was unbearably loud. He kissed her soundly, swallowing her moans, trying to keep her quiet. The others should be sleeping, and the watch stations were a little way from the campsite; they should be fine, but Levi wasn't willing to take the risk. The last thing he wanted was word of this indiscretion getting around, getting back to Mike or Erwin. Great big bastards with their stupid smug looks. He couldn't stand even the thought of it.

He bit at her bottom lip and Hange whimpered, her hips rolling up into his hand, seeking more from his fingers. He nipped at her again. His cock jumped at the sound she made. He dragged his lips from her mouth to her jaw, scraping his teeth along the sharp line of bone there, and down to her neck, where he sucked the skin up and laved his tongue over it.

He kissed down to her collar, her chest, running his lips over the top of the wrapping there. One of Hange's hands settled on his shoulder, fingers curling into the collar of his shirt, and the other sunk into the hair atop his head, tugging enough to sting.

He had predicted Hange to be a demanding thing in bed. Still, it surprised him when she began pushing him down, past her chest, her belly, guiding his face between her legs. He stopped there and scowled up at her, waver her hand away from his head where she had been shoving him.

"Brat," he hissed. Hange grinned lazily down at him, evidently proud of herself. Levi was less than gentle when he gripped her hips and hiked her right up the length of her mat, until the top of her head bumped into the canvas, so that he could settle between her legs more comfortably. Maybe, in another circumstance, Levi might have teased her. Drawn this out more. Took his time with her, exploring every inch of skin from ankle to hip with his tongue and lips and teeth, bite marks into the soft, scarred skin. But Hange was persistent, demanding. Her fingers threaded back into his hair as Levi pulled her underwear down and she tugged him in insistently, anging her cunt up to his mouth.

Up close, Levi could smell her; heady, dizzying. He nuzzled his mouth and nose into her, the tip of his tongue drawing a line up the seam of her, circling her clit before he cupped his lips around her, sucking gently. Her hips bucked up and a shaky, unsteady moan bled out of her.

"Shut up," Levi warned, muffled. He slid his hands under her ass, gripping her cheeks and pulling her hips closer to his face.

He made a meal of her, like he had done in every daydream, every fantasy. Lapped at her, sucked at her, drank her down, and Hange writhed and panted just like he'd always thought she would, desperate against him. She had a hand clamped tight over her mouth but it did little to quiet her, and her hitched, stuttered breathing carried loud in the quiet night.

"Shit, Levi," she groaned, strained, when he crooked two fingers into her. "That's—yeah, like—like that, oh fuck."

Levi hummed quietly against her. He could feel her throbbing beneath his lips and tongue, her walls fluttering around his fingers. She breathed quick and harsh, chanting his name in a whisper that grew in pitch, and then she stifled, silent, beautifully taut, before the pressure snapped. She came with a short, sharp cry, too loud, her body shuddering and twitching as Levi worked her through, swallowing the rush of fluid on his tongue.

He pulled away, rubbing his mouth against her thigh to wipe some of the wetness away. "Too fucking loud," he muttered. He nipped at her trembling thigh for good measure before he drew himself up onto his hands and knees, and made his way back up her body.

Even in a situation like this, Hange offered affection easily. She greeted him with a happy, satisfied smile, her arms wrapping loosely around his neck as he crawled his way up to meet her, drawing him in dizzyingly close. She kissed him, just a peck, at first, gentle and bare, but when Levi pulled back, face sour as he said, "that's fucking gross, four-eyes," she laughed lazily and pulled him in again, licking at his messy lips and coaxing him into a something deeper. It should have been disgusting, with the lower half his face wet and slick, but the smell of her was heady in his nose, and Hange made low, quiet noises each time she sucked at his lip, tasting herself, and Levi couldn't really bring himself to mind.

Hange's hands roamed over his shoulders, down his back. She dug her fingers beneath the back plate of his gear and tugged it, huffing into his mouth.

"This is why I don't sleep in gear," she said into his mouth. "I want your shirt off."

Levi pulled back, straddling her hips and sitting up to unfastened the buckle across his chest.

"I don't think this is why," he said. Hange had already unfastened the straps at his hips, and had moved on to the main belt at his waist. He hissed when her knuckles brushed his cock through his pants, hips bucking forward involuntarily.

"Mm, maybe not. But it's a good side effect." Hange splayed her hands over his hips as he pushed the harness back and off. She smoothed her palms down his thighs and up again, content to simply watch rather than help as he unfastened the belts there.

It was awkward, kicking his way out of the leather in the tiny tent. Hange giggled at him the entire time, openly delighted at his struggle, and the smile didn't leave her face even as Levi put on his best scowl.

"Grumpy," she laughed. Her hands reached for his face when he folded back over her, her thumb smoothing the wrinkled skin between his brows. "Careful. If the wind changes you'll get stuck like that."

Levi scowled deeper, defying her pull on his skin, and Hange laughed again—too bright, too loud. He should have shushed her again, but something in her big, open smile, her brazen happiness, stalled him.

She drew him so easily into another kiss. Levi followed her down helplessly, stretching his legs out, nudging his way back between her thighs while her fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt. She pushed it back from his shoulders and ran her palms over the exposed skin of his back. He could feel every callus on her palms and fingers, the rough spots catching and scratching. The sensation made his hips twitch, and Hange laughed throatily every time, switching to scrape her nails from his shoulders and down his back. Levi hissed, biting her tongue.

"Sensitive," Hange mused. She soothed him, rubbing her thumbs in small circles while she licked long and slow into his mouth.

Levi had expected fucking Hange to be quick and rough, a desperate release after so much pathetic pining. He hadn't expected anything like this—not the soft touches, or the kisses, or the laughter. Not the way Hange's hands worked his pants open while she sucked on his tongue, pushing his pants and underwear down the length of his legs until she could reach no more. She brought her legs up and used her feet—disgusting—to shimmy them the rest of the way down. Levi kicked them off, and then the pair of them were bare save for Hange's breast wrappings. She seemed in no hurry to take them off. She hadn't sought his touch there, guided neither his hands or his mouth to her chest, but she must have caught him staring for she tilted her head, and looked down at the wrappings herself.

"I can take it off, if you want," she said. Levi's eyes rolled up to her face. For the first time, something uncomfortable reflected there. Something uncertain. Levi leaned down to kiss at the soft spot beneath her jaw.

"It's fine," he said. Hange let out a long sigh—relief, he suspected—and wound her arms around his neck.

It was Hange who moved first, spreading her legs and curling her thighs up against his hips, so that his cock brushed temptingly against her cunt. She nipped at his mouth, catching his bottom lip between her teeth and biting down hard enough to ache.

"What're you waiting for? Fuck me," She muttered, running her tongue over his throbbing lip. Levi growled low in his throat and bit back, teeth gnashing, barely catching her tongue. She yelped and dropped her head to the pillow with an exaggerated pout.

"That wasn't sexy," she said. Levi shifted his weight onto one elbow and slipped the other hand between them. He stared, transfixed, at the way Hange's eyelids fluttered when his knuckles brushed her belly, her hips.

"Wasn't supposed to be," Levi said. "Was supposed to shut you up."

"Mission failed."

"I can fucking hear that."

Hange grinned, and Levi drew his fingers down to the joint of her thigh, gliding over the slick skin. Hange made an airy, breathless sound, when Levi took his cock in hand and pressed it up against her cunt.

Hange wasn't the type to beg. She'd showed him as much, dragging him here and there, taking what she wanted from him without hesitation. Her nails dug into the back of his neck, her eyes screwed shut, and her mouth fell open with a gasped, "please," and Levi didn't have the strength to deny her.

She felt fucking phenomenal. Maybe, if he'd had more control, more discipline, he'd have teased her. Pushed in a little way, let her feel the stretch and withdrew, fucked her with short, shallow, languid strokes until she was crying for more, for him to fill her so deep she could feel it in her gut. He'd have taken his time, savoured every small detail. But he was a desperate man, and he slid into her quickly and all at once, until they were flush together. Hange sucked a few frantic breaths at the intrusion and Levi buried a low moan in the crook of her neck.

"Fuck, Hange," he rasped. His voice grated in the quiet night, too loud. Hange wheezed in his ear, air shuddering in uneven bursts from her chest. Her nails raked into his skin. He drew his face up slowly, nose brushing along her cheek until he could look at her. She looked back at him through low, hooded eyes, lips wet and open. "You good?"

Hange nodded. She snaked her hands up into his hair and pulled him down, into a kiss far softer than Levi had expected. "Good," she breathed. "Move."

Levi obeyed her without thought or question. Hange breathed ragged and open-mouthed against his lips, quiet, airy moans catching in her throat every time Levi's hips snapped forward. Every tiny sound rang out boldly in the quiet night; Hange's rough, staggered gasps and Levi's own panting breaths, grunts muffled behind clenched teeth; skin on skin, sharp and distinct, growing louder when Hange's blunt nails dug long welts into his back, when her legs curled up around his hips, urging him on. Too damn loud, but it was impossible to care with Hange all but whimpering his name, kissing wet and clumsy at his lips.

Levi had fantasised about this moment more than he'd ever dare to admit, and still, he was woefully unprepared. He had expected her to be rough, demanding, dominating—and perhaps she would be without the dark and the quiet, without the flimsy illusion of privacy the tent afforded them. But she was quiet now, muffling her sounds into deep, dizzying kisses as Levi's thrusts faltered.

"Fuck," Levi hissed, gritting his teeth. "Gonna come."

Hange let out a throaty chuckle, her nails scraping up the back of his neck and into his hair. "Quick."

"Piss off," Levi grumbled. He snaked a hand between them, clumsily pressing against her clit—she aborted her snickering abruptly with a twitch and a throaty, surprised moan, and Levi watched as her eyes squeezed closed, face scrunched and mouth stupidly open. She looked ridiculous. Levi kissed her again.

"Hurry up," he muttered, stroking her faster, fighting to keep the sharp jerk of his hips even. "Come already."

Hange's second orgasm ripped from her more violently than the first. She came with a protracted moan, bordering on a sob, her nails digging painfully into Levi's back.

"Thank fuck," Levi said, voice tight as he gave in to the building tension, fucking into her too quick, too rough, too loud, and barely pulling out in time to spill over her trembling belly.

Levi collapsed beside Hange, laying heavily on his side. She lolled her head over to look at him, an idle grin spreading over her face.

"That wasn't what I was getting at, you know. When I said we should share a tent. Or when I took my clothes off."

"Or when you rubbed yourself all over me while I slept?"

"You started that." Levi huffed quietly, but said nothing in return. Hange sighed and stretched as much as she could in the cramped space. "Not that I minded. I was wondering if you'd ever do more than just look."

Levi shot her a questioning look. "Ah?"

Hange shrugged, rolling onto her side and curling an arm beneath her head. Like this, her knee brushed lightly against Levi's—her skin felt warm and soft as she slipped her legs to tangle effortlessly with his, shuffling closer. Her smile was soft and easy, but there was something mischievous in the pinch of her eyes.

"You're not all that subtle."

"The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Hange said, leaning forward and whispering, conspiratorial, "that maybe you shouldn't stare so much if you don't wanna get caught."

With nothing to say to defend himself, Levi kissed his teeth and knocked his forehead against Hange's a little harder than necessary. He pulled back, and watched with some satisfaction as Hange scowled, rubbing at her aching brow.

"You know, you've got a funny way of showing affection," she said, pouting.

"Who said I'm being affectionate?"

Hange pointedly ignored him. She wiggled impossibly closer instead, and Levi watched her with equal parts interest and trepidation as the smile on her face grew wider, and without warning, she lurched for him, arms squeezing around his waist and hitting him with enough force to knock him onto his back. He gusted out a heavy breath, while Hange wriggled around on top of him, adjusting to get comfortable. Something slimy, wet, and rapidly cooling smeared across his belly as she shifted, and Levi swore quietly.

"Oi," he hissed, knocking a closed fist to the top of Hange's head. "Stop moving. You're making a mess."

Hange only hummed, unbothered, and propped her pointed chin on Levi's chest, looking up at him with a disarming smile.

"Mmm, no, you made a mess. I'm just making it worse."

She shimmied more rapidly, and Levi grimaced, snapping his hands down to her hips to still her. "You're vile. Get up."

"No. I'm pretty comfortable—you're not as bony as you look, Captain."

Levi clicked his tongue. "Move, or I'll move you myself."

Hange squeezed her arms tight around his back and dug her chin into his chest. "Try your best. I'm stronger than I look!"

Levi glared down at her, took in the shine of her eyes in the low, pale light, and the smile stretching her cheeks, and flushed hot at the obscene, unwelcome urge to stretch forward and kiss her. Just kiss her. For no real reason other than she looked...nice, and he wanted to.

Instead, he wound his own arms around Hange's back, and with a heave, he threw both of them sideways, Hange's back hitting the floor with a thump. He used her moment of shock to sit up out of her grip and straddled her hips to keep her pinned, one hand planted squarely on her chest so she couldn't sit up while the other fished around for any discarded fabric that wasn't his own clothes. He scooped up Hange's shirt and wiped at her belly with it, clearing up the mess of sticky, drying come, and then wiped himself down.

Hange let out an indignant squawk. "Is that my shirt?"

"It's not mine," Levi said. Hange opened her mouth to say something else, something loud, probably, given the great lungful of air she sucked in, but before she could yell Levi dropped the soiled fabric over her face, and he watched with his teeth clamped onto the inside of his cheek as she scrambled to pull it off.

"And you said I was vile," she huffed. Hange waved the messy shirt between them. "I have to wear this tomorrow, y'know."

Levi took it and set it to one side, as far away from himself as possible, and looked down at Hange with a half shrug.

"Now it's about as nasty as the rest of you."

"Well now you're just being mean."

Levi shuffled off of her. It was awkward, redressing in the confines of the tent, with Hange snorting whenever he bumped into the canvas. But there was something about the ease with which she sprawled herself over the mat, head pillowed on her arm, eyes glinting as she watched him, that felt oddly nice. Warm, and comfortable.

The feeling was foreign, but not unwelcome. Hange tucked herself in, shimmying her legs beneath one of the thin blankets, yawning widely as she did. The space between them felt oddly cold and empty now, without Hange's body pressed against his own. He shifted a leg until his knee bumped against hers, and Hange winked a sleepy eye open to look at him.

"What happened to staying to your own side?" She murmured.

"Tents too small for sides," he said. Hange grinned lazily, and leaned forward until her forehead brushed against his, tickling at his fringe. Entirely too close, but Levi found he didn't mind all that much.

The quiet and the closeness was relaxing, in a strange way. With his pent up energy expended and Hange's contagious enthusiasm doused by sleep, Levi's earlier tiredness crept back in, and soon enough he felt himself drifting too. He blinked heavily and watched Hange's face, slack as she slept on. Even now, something about her drew him in, though there was a new warmth in his chest now, a tightness that squeezed the air from his lungs.

Slowly, he reached up, and brushed Hange's unruly hair out of her face. She shifted minutely, turning into the touch. Levi stared at her as she settled, tucking her cheek down into the pillow, and a terrible thought occurred to him. And compared to this, wanting Hange in his bed seemed like a very minor issue.

"Ah. Shit."

Liking Hange is a much larger problem.

Jayce Talis x Mel Medarda

892 notes View Post

fortunatelyangrycheesecake

1 year ago

HANDLE IT

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

“Follow Mrs Davis and her class for lunch!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly, Mike’s jeans felt very tight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mike…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TAGLIST !!

@bxbyyyjocelyn

3K notes View Post

fortunatelyangrycheesecake

2 years ago

Käärijä At The Helsinki Ice Hall, 20.05.2023

Käärijä at the Helsinki Ice Hall, 20.05.2023

257 notes View Post

fortunatelyangrycheesecake

1 year ago

I drop chosoyuki bomb on you

4K notes View Post

fortunatelyangrycheesecake

7 months ago

A Pleasant Surprise

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem reader

Summary: Steven has had something on his mind for a while now, and finally he divulges his fantasy to you; degrading was certainly not on your playing cards.

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: sub!Steven, dom!reader, “mommy” title, degrading, grinding, cumming in pants, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 1,441

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

………......................…………………………………….

When Steven had come to you with a “fun idea”, you'd expected something along the lines of ”naive uni teacher gets fucked by his student”, but this was so much better.

“Love? I have a, uh…suggestion,” Steven calls from the bathroom between brushing his teeth. “Well, it's more of a proposal, really.”

“Yeah? Go on.” You're sitting in your bedroom reading some gruesome crime novel that Marc seems to have a real distaste for.

You hear the water running briefly before your boyfriend joins you in the room, warm morning sun streaming in through the cracked curtains and casting a soft glow over his face. “I mean, we don't have to do it now of course. I know you're reading and all that, and I have to get to work in a bit–.”

You close your book and pat the edge of the bed, making him instantly respond to your gesture by placing himself down. “I'm all ears, sweetheart, lay it on me.”

Blood rushes to Steven's face as he actually thinks about saying it outloud, feet shuffling a little on the creaky floorboards. The words feel stuck in his throat now that he has to speak them, despite the fact he'd thought about the whole image on numerous occasions... and in great detail.

“Heeyy c’mon,” your hand brushes his arm, and you move closer to him to wrap your arms fully around his, crinkling his blue floral shirt. “You know I can't read your mind, Steven… Though I wish I could, that'd be super fucking helpful, then the other two couldn't lie to me.”

His chuckle makes you smile and you feel him draw in a long breath.

”I wanna like… grind against you… and I want you to mock me for it, u-until I cum… in my trousers…”

The pauses between his words are almost comical, but you look up at his face and see that he's completely serious, looking at you with wide eyes and waiting for an answer.

“Oh! Right.”

“Ah, Gods! No no... no no no no no, forget it–.” He frantically shakes his head, his hands doing the same as his face scrunches. “It's weird, I'm sorry, pretend I never said anything. Me and my big bloody mouth.”

“Steven,” you say between giggles, hand resting on his soft face to pull his gaze towards you. “It's not weird, silly! I just didn't expect you to be the one that's into degrading.” Careful not to fall back off of the bed, you climb onto his lap, thighs either side of his as you examine his expression, how gorgeous he looks with his brows knitted together and his unruly curls that Marc would definitely be gluing down with copious amounts of gel right about now.

His chest deflates as he lets out a soft sigh, resting his head on your chest out of embarrassment while you link your arms around his neck to run your fingers through the long curls at the back of his head. You feel his hands graze up your back, gliding under your night shirt and making you shiver with the warmth.

“Are you sniffing me?”

“No! Well…” he pauses, “yeah, but not in a creepy way.” The man lifts his head and looks up at you with those big doe eyes, and you watch them close as you start rolling your hips down on him slowly. You're only in your underwear underneath that shirt, but Steven is fully clothed and ready for work… or at least he would be, if his eyes weren't fluttering shut and arousal wasn't growing in his tummy.

“I promise you, darling, I like your idea.” You reassure him with your hips drawing slow circles against the material of his trousers, creating a delicious friction. “As long as you tell me if it's too much, alright?”

The bed creaks a little with your grinding before he looks up at you, nodding with a kind of desperation in his eyes that lights a fire in your gut.

“You promise?”

“Yeah love, yeah I promise.” He says, his voice a little more whiny.

You don't bother yourself with working out the psychological reasons for why your boyfriend enjoys being degraded about how long he can last, chalking it up to his masculinity, despite your reassurances that he's just as much of a man as his other two alters.

“You've got 10 minutes, think you can do that?”

Steven groans at your question, since both of you know all too well that 10 minutes is more than enough time. Still, he nods, big puppy dog eyes looking up at you and begging you to divulge in his vision.

A smirk creeps across your face when you see those glassy eyes, your gaze trailing down to the blush dusting his cheeks and the straining muscles in his neck.

“God Steven, I love the way you look at me. Look at those big soft eyes, all for mommy, aren't they?”

He lets out a whimper with the use of that title, his cock stirring in his trousers and reminding you of the thin barrier that's stopping you from grinding on the rough material of his slacks all together. The man doesn't take his gaze off of you; he drinks in every one of your features as if he's seeing you for the first time.

Rocking his hips up, he pants.

“Yes mommy, all for you, I'm all for you.”

“That's right, sweetheart, those desperate eyes are for me. that dumb little face is mine.” You lean forward and nip his bottom lip, soothing it afterwards with your tongue as he gasps and bucks his hips.

“I can feel you twitching, baby. You just can't help it, can you? Always getting so worked up and hard when I'm around, maybe I should put this pretty cock in a cage, what do you think?”

Steven's shoulders drop as he leans forward into your neck, biting and sucking any skin he can get his mouth on while his hot breath and whimpers raise goosebumps over your skin.

The suction he had in your neck is broken as his head is suddenly jerked backwards, your grip tight in his hair and making him whimper pathetically.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he tries to suppress his moans, his head nodding wildly. “Yes mommy, I'd– agh–I'd love that.” His hips buck again.

“Mhm.. then you'd at least last longer than 5 minutes, you'd actually be able to fuck me properly.”

Steven's mouth hangs agape, his eyes now squeezed shut as his grip on your hips tighten and he guides your hips down on him harder, wanting more, anything.

“Sh–it… Ah- Feels so good.” His eyebrows knit together in a beautifully strained way. “More, gimme more–.”

You tut with a small smirk on your lips, rocking back and forth to coat his trousers in your own arousal that's seeped through your underwear.

“Oh, look at you, you gonna cum in your pants, baby? Gonna prove how pathetic you are to mommy?” You feel the muscles in his shoulders and back tighten. “C'mon sweetheart, cum for me, ruin those pants.”

Sweet moans and whimpers tumble from the man's rosy lips as he finally lets go, staining his boxers enough that you feel the wetness as it soaks a spot on his trouser leg.

His grip on your hips loosens, but he doesn't stop whimpering, soft babbles and huffs escaping his throat as he calms down. You stroke his head, combing your fingers through his hair as your hips slow. “Good boy, you're such a good boy, Steven.” You smile brightly at him, despite the fact his eyes are still shut.

They only flutter open when he feels your hand stroking his cheek and tilting his head down.

“Are you ok, baby? How do you feel?”

His cheeks are flushed bright red still, beads of sweat sitting on his forehead from the warmth of his button-up shirt. A smile cracks across his face as he nods shyly, “I'm ok– great, yeah.. I'm great, actually.”

“You sure? I didn't hurt your feelings, did I?”

He shakes his head and tilts face to kiss your palm. “No, you didn't, love. I promise.”

His eyes drift down to the wet patch on his trousers, your eyes following as you chuckle softly.

“Should probably change…” He mumbles while resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah, that's probably a good idea.” You place a kiss on his neck as you embrace him, ignoring the fact that he will most definitely be late to work… again.

...........................................................................

Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @rinverse @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mooksmouse @cupidysm

609 notes View Post

fortunatelyangrycheesecake

2 years ago

Kris

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fortunatelyangrycheesecake

3 years ago

This kid is a maniac and I love it.

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fortunatelyangrycheesecake

2 years ago

No one knows Sergio’s city name is Vatican except for Raquel and she only ever says it in bed

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fortunatelyangrycheesecake

2 years ago

I did it for Kim.

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fortunatelyangrycheesecake

2 years ago

one thing i'm missing (joel miller x reader) PART FIVE

i can't believe this fic is almost done 😭 there's just one more part to go after this one and then it'll be over, which is sad but i'm SO appreciative of all the kind words, it all means so much to me. thank you so much for reading & here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip. masterlist | ao3 summary: you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: (for this chapter) fem!reader, smut, age difference (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 50s), unprotected p in v sex (very tender & loving), cunnilingus, pet names, soft!joel word count: 5.1k

Pulling yourself out of Joel's arms was probably the most difficult thing you'd ever had to do, but you'd been standing there kissing in the hot spring for at least twenty minutes at that point, smiling at each other between stolen pecks and tender whispers. The way he looked at you now was still the same but somehow less guarded, more open. He didn't try to hide the way his gaze darted to your lips, to your breasts, to your legs and back up again. You felt so safe in his embrace, his fingers trailing up and down your back in a steady motion as he kissed you sweetly. You never wanted the moment to end.

But it had to. Ellie was waiting back at the cabins and it wasn't wise to leave her alone for much longer. You'd obviously checked the entire resort for infected but you'd been caught off guard before; it was always better to be safe than sorry.

“We need to go back,” Joel murmured against your lips, almost like he'd read your mind, and you felt yourself pout.

“I know, but I don't want to.”

He smiled, kissing you again, hands palming your shoulder blades, “I know. I could kiss you for hours,” he groaned playfully against your mouth, “Suddenly I'm sixteen years old again.”

“Cute,” you giggled, “I bet you were adorable.”

“I was a football player,” he teased, “Got all the cheerleaders.”

“Suuure you did.”

He raised his eyebrows, “You think I'm joking? They loved me. Don't I look like a cheerleader magnet?”

You rolled your eyes, “All my cheerleading knowledge comes from Bring it On, did you ever see it?” He shook his head, “It was a movie about cheerleaders, it came out a few years before the outbreak. I remember my sister rented it and let me watch it with her.” You smiled at the memory, it was one of the more concrete things you could remember from before the world had gone to shit.

He groaned again, shutting his eyes, “Please don't remind me how old you are, I just went from sixteen to fifty-six in about five seconds,” you laughed and he shook his head, trying not to smile, “I'm serious, I really do forget that you're...” he trailed off.

“Young?” you finished for him, “I know. I'm sorry. If I could change it I would. But unless we find a time machine out here I think we're stuck the way it is.”

“I just worry,” he was suddenly serious, brow furrowed, “You know, when we tell Ellie...she might think it's weird. I mean, she sees you kind of like an older sister, doesn't she? I don't want her to think I'm being a creep or something. That's half the reason it took me so damn long to...” he gestured between the two of you, “...do this.”

You stared at him for a second and grimaced.

“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, “What's that face?”

“Well...um...Ellie actually knows.”

His hands dropped from you like he'd been shocked, “She what?”

“The whole time,” he said for about the tenth time as you walked with him down the overgrown path back to the cabins, both of you now fully dressed, “She knew the whole time.”

“I think that's a bit hyperbolic,” you patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, trying to keep up with his fast pace, “She didn't really know anything, and to be fair even I didn't really know what exactly this was between us until about an hour ago, so I mean...”

“I thought she had PTSD or something,” he gritted through his teeth, “I thought she was traumatized.”

“Turns out she's just a matchmaker.”

He rolled his eyes, “Please stop trying to make this funny, it's not funny.”

“Joel, slow down,” you grabbed his arm, “Stop.”

He huffed to himself but stopped in his tracks, spinning around to face you, “What?”

“This is a good thing,” you told him softly, trailing your fingers along his forearm soothingly, “Yes, it's surprising, yes it's kind of annoying that she never said anything, but wouldn't you rather this than the alternative?” your hand found his and squeezed it gently, thumb caressing his knuckles which now felt smoother from the soap and warm water, “She's not traumatized, she's okay.”

You watched his expression soften as you soothed him, slowly nodding at you and closing his eyes when you reached your hand up to stroke his face gently. He smiled at your touch, hand resting tenderly on your wrist as your finger traced the shape of his lips.

"Don't ruin today," you said quietly with a reassuring smile, "You just kissed me in a hot spring, let's focus on that."

He smirked, "Did a lot more than kiss you."

You bit back a laugh and started walking again, shaking your head, "You really are sixteen at heart, aren't you?"

Ellie had already finished her lunch by the time you both got back to the cabins. Admittedly, you would have gotten there sooner if Joel hadn't kept stopping every so often to admire you, appraise you, thumb your cheekbone and kiss you softly in the middle of the path. You weren't complaining though. You'd been waiting to see this side of Joel for so long, knew it was there somewhere beneath the surface just waiting to have a reason to come out. Turns out, that reason was you.

"How was the bath, Joel?" Ellie asked from her place at one of the picnic tables, journal open in front of her.

"Very... informative," he replied, voice a bit stiff, making direct eye contact with her.

She stared back at him in confusion, "Well that's ominous."

"I told him," you explained quietly beside him, and you watched guiltily as her jaw dropped.

"What the fuck?" she slammed her journal shut and extricated herself from the picnic table, then stomped over to you with a hellish glint in her eye, "Why would you do that?!"

"Ellie, I'm-"

"Look, I'm sorry if I crossed a line but you're the one who asked," she interrupted, face going redder and redder with every word, "I was gonna keep it to myself, I told you it was none of your business."

Your brow furrowed in response, confusion settling on your face. Joel, who obviously hadn't been there for the conversation, immediately began to defend you.

"She did the right thing," he said firmly, although his voice had become a bit more tender at Ellie's sudden surge of emotion, "I have a right to know."

"Neither of you have a right to know anything," Ellie growled, clutching her journal to her chest and backing away from the both of you, "Jesus, I may have been born after the outbreak but I thought this kinda shit was supposed to be private until the person themselves actually wants to talk about it."

Joel froze then, making a similar puzzled face as you, "Wait, what?"

You slowly began to put your hand up, lips parting, "Hold on, I think we're talking about two different things here."

Ellie's angry expression faltered, looking from Joel to you and back again in total bewilderment. She held her journal even tighter against herself and realization suddenly doused you like a bucket of cold water.

"Oh my god, Ellie, no. I didn't tell him about that," you gestured to her journal, shaking your head frantically, "I told him that you knew about us."

She froze, lips forming a small "o" as her grip loosened on her journal. The anger was gone but her skin had somehow gone even redder, "Oh."

"I'm confused," Joel said, eyebrows raised.

"And you're gonna stay that way, sorry," you winced, patting his arm carefully and trying not to feel too bad when he frowned at you, "Ellie and I, we talked about, uh, two completely different things earlier. She thought you were mad at her for...something else."

"For what?" Joel suddenly looked concerned, peering over at her again, "What else should I be mad about?"

"You actually wouldn't be mad about the other thing," you said quietly, eyeing Ellie again. Her eyes had begun to fill with tears and she was still standing there quite dejectedly, "It's just personal, girl stuff. Nothing to worry about."

"He might get mad," she suddenly said, biting on her lip and giving you a worried look, "He's old."

"Hey-" Joel began but you put your hand up again to stop him, shaking your head.

"He would never be mad about that, Ellie. Trust me," you took a few steps toward her and opened your arms a bit, "I'm not mad, am I?"

She nodded slowly, the tears fading before they'd had a chance to spill over, "That's true."

You closed the distance between the two of you and hugged her tenderly. It was the first time you'd actually shown her any physical affection; you'd been too scared to cross her boundaries before, worried it would trigger something deep within her about David. Obviously, those worries no longer existed.

She buried her face in your jacket, sniffling a bit, "This is so embarrassing," she whispered, voice muffled.

"Hey, it's okay," you whispered back, quiet enough so only she could hear you, "What you're feeling is totally normal, believe me," you pulled back a bit to look at her again, hand coming up to cup her face, "I only yelled earlier because you took me by surprise, you know that right?"

"I know," she nodded, "And I know I shouldn't have been looking at you. It's just...it's not like I'm ever gonna see another pair of boobs out here in the middle of nowhere. I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about."

You laughed, rolling your eyes, "I get it, but yeah, no more looking at me like that, okay?" you scrunched up your nose, "It's not appropriate, I'm sorry. Not because I'm a girl but because I'm an adult. But after all this is over I'm sure you'll find a girl who will actually let you look at her boobs."

Her skin, which had faded back to a gentle pink as you'd spoke, suddenly surged a bright red again, and she began to pull away from your hug, "Okay, no more boob talk please," she groaned, "This is way too awkward for me to handle."

You chuckled and released her, stepping away and turning around to see Joel still standing there with a look of pure confusion etched all over his face. You walked back over to him and gave him a pat on the shoulder fondly.

"What was that all about?" he asked both of you, "Are we fighting or not?"

"Not," Ellie responded with a small smile, "Definitely not."

At around one o'clock you'd already overstayed your welcome at the springs and knew you had to get back on the proverbial road again. As much as you would have loved to spend another night in the cabin with Joel, in an actual bed, you both knew that time wasn't on your side. You still had a ways to go before Salt Lake City and you all just wanted to get it over with, have all of this behind you and be able to go back to Jackson with a clear conscious.

"So since you're not actually traumatized, we could probably start traveling by road again," Joel suggested about three hours into the days' hike, giving Ellie a semi-irritated look.

"You're never gonna let this go, are you?" she replied with a groan, "Come on, I did you a favor and you know it."

Joel flushed red and you giggled quietly, walking ahead of them a bit and listening to their familiar banter. It was so natural to settle back into things, the step you and Joel had taken together not really changing anything in the grand scheme of your little trio. It was a relief to hear them laugh together, rib each other, knowing Ellie was okay and Joel was okay and that was all that mattered.

Your mind kept playing back the image of him standing in front of you a few hours ago, baring himself to you, not just his body but his soul and his heart. My girl, he'd murmured to you in the spring, don't want anybody but you, you hear me? Nobody.

You smiled to yourself; you were his now. His girl.

Ultimately you all decided to stick to the heavy cover of the woods, knowing it was better to be safe than sorry. It would take a bit longer to get to the city but at least there was a less likely chance of one - if not all - of you dying before you got there. The forest just made more sense, and with it came the promise of another cozy night under your sleeping bag with Joel. It would be different this time, and you shivered at the notion.

"So you guys are together now, right?" Ellie asked a few hours later when you'd set up camp again, sun setting as she poked at the fire the way Joel had showed her.

You looked at Joel, unsure of what to say, but to your satisfaction he gave you a soft smile and then said kindly to Ellie, "Yeah, kiddo. We are."

Ellie had never set up her sleeping bag as far away from you as she did that night. You and Joel both watched as she settled into it and turned to face away from you, almost completely out of your eyeline and hidden by the dark branches of the trees. You'd both protested, but she'd been stubborn in her decision.

"You deserve alone time," she'd said, addressing you both like you were children and she was the adult, speaking slowly and clearly, "I'm giving you guys a free pass to be gross, please just let me."

"This is the most awkward conversation I've ever had," Joel had grumbled, head in his hands.

"Everybody poops, Joel," she replied, purposely trying to sound wise.

You'd both looked at her in confusion.

"Everybody poops," she repeated, "And everybody has sex."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Joel had groaned, and practically kicked her away from the fire, "Go to bed."

"I'm just sayin'!" she'd called back with a grin, making her way over to her faraway sleeping spot, "I can't hear you over here!" and she was right; once she'd gotten into her sleeping bag you couldn't even hear the rustle of the fabric, let alone see what she was doing.

"God, she is so much like Sarah sometimes," Joel muttered beside you, and your eyebrows went up in surprise at his mention of her, turning to peer at him gently. He smiled crookedly at you, "She used to try to set me up on dates with her teachers."

You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh, "And how'd that work out?"

"Let's just say I'd lost my sixteen year old mojo by then," he replied with a grin, "Made Tommy go to the parent-teacher conferences so I wouldn't have to face 'em."

"Really? You were that against dating?"

He shook his head, "I wasn't against datin', just not with Sarah's much older and very married teachers."

You shrugged, "Nothing wrong with someone who's older, I think it's sexy," you wiggled your eyebrows and he rolled his eyes, tossing a pebble into the fire.

"Well, anyway, I did go on a few dates - ones that she didn't set up - but nothing panned out," he looked over at you and smiled tenderly, "Was waitin' for you, I think."

You scoffed, "Oh, now that's bullshit."

"No, sweetheart, that's flirting," he replied, and suddenly his hand was on your thigh, palm warm and flat through the denim, "Woulda thought you knew that."

Immediately your eyes fell to his hand, swallowing tightly at how large it was on your thigh, thumb gently stroking you through your jeans. You looked back up at him and involuntarily licked your lips, feeling a cascade of tingles flutter through your body when you saw him looking right at you.

"...Are we gonna have sex?" you asked bluntly, voice quiet, and the expression on his face changed from sensuality to shock as he released your leg and groaned, covering his face.

"How do you both do that?" he asked, voice muffled by his palms, "How do you just say shit without any thought?"

You covered your own mouth, trying not to giggle too loudly. He was right, you and Ellie both did have a bluntness about you, a desire to say what you felt before really thinking about it. You supposed asking him directly if you were going to have sex was probably not the sexiest thing in the world, but you were desperately out of practice.

"I'm sorry," you laughed softly, "I'm just... I'm not good at this. It's been a long time since I've...." you shook your head, "Like, I'm talking years, Joel. That long."

He gave you a smile and dropped his hands again, placing his left back on your thigh and squeezing it gently, reassuringly, "We don't have to, it's okay."

"But you want to," you replied immediately, "So do I, I'm just worried that..." your gaze scanned the tree line until you saw Ellie's still form, far away in the darkness.

"Let's just get in bed," he breathed, squeezing your thigh again, "We'll figure it out."

You felt yourself blush, starting to feel slightly self conscious as the reality of what was about to happen - because it was about to happen, you knew that - set in.

"Sleeping bag, you mean," you replied a bit breathlessly.

He cringed, "Oh. Right."

You both laughed and any tension you'd been feeling melted away in the warmth of his voice, the softness in his expression. You trusted him so much, you knew that if you asked him not to touch you he'd listen, would respect you completely. Your ears burned red as you shuffled over to the sleeping bag and thought alternatively that if you asked him to touch you, asked him to do pretty much anything to make you feel good, he'd do that too.

The safety you felt climbing underneath the sleeping bag beside him was unmatched; the last time you'd slept this way under the stars you'd still just been friends, allies, protectors. Now you were his girl, and you guessed that meant he was your guy. The thought made you smile.

You cuddled in close beside him, resting your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. There was no more hesitation, no more questioning what anything meant, you were his and he was yours. Simple. Sweet.

You laid like that for a while, both of you secretly waiting until you were sure Ellie was asleep, even though you doubted she'd be able to hear you at this distance. Still, you waited, and so did he, just holding each other and quietly enjoying each other's company.

"I want to," you eventually told him softly, burrowing yourself into him more and inhaling his scent, so much fresher after his bath in the spring, "Take it slow, though, okay? Be...be gentle."

"Of course," he murmured, kissing your head again, "I'll go as slow as you need me to, I swear. The second I do something wrong, you tell me."

The next few minutes were pure bliss on their own as you both undressed each other in the darkness, feeling for buttons and zippers and laughing breathlessly as you exposed yourselves to one another again. It was different this time, laying there getting naked instead of standing across from each other. You reveled in how strong he felt beneath you, the way his fingers trailed up and down your back like they had in the spring, pulling you closer.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, and carefully flipped you so he was on top, his big hands gliding across your body hungrily, "Don't know how you're real."

His words made you feel so warm, so safe. Your hands came up and tangled in his hair as he leaned down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, tongue dancing across the sensitive little bumps that trailed across the flesh. You whimpered and pulled slightly at his curls, soft and silky under your touch.

You felt one of his hands snake down your torso and cup you where you were completely bare for him, already wet and begging to feel him. His finger slipped between your soft lips, opening you up for him and rubbing circles into your clit gently. He continued to suckle at your breast, the scruff of his beard scratching against your skin in the best possible way.

He pulled back to look up at you, eyes hooded and lustful, "Feel good, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you breathed, voice breaking, "Feels so good, Joel. Need more."

He smiled at you knowingly and pressed one final kiss to your nipple, thumb tracing it lightly before he slowly began to shuffle downward beneath the sleeping bag. You watched in slight confusion before you realized where he was going, what he was doing.

"Oh, fuck," you whispered, and he looked up at you again.

"Gonna taste you, that okay?"

You nodded, cheeks flushing a bright red, "If you want to."

He chuckled like you'd said something funny and pressed a tiny kiss to your hip bone, wet and warm, "I want to, baby. I've wanted to."

You watched with your lip between your teeth as he disappeared beneath the confines of the sleeping bag. Part of you wanted to lift it up and watch, but you weren't sure you could handle that level of vulnerability, not when you were already feeling so shy. You just closed your eyes and leaned your head back, taking deep breaths and focusing on the way his lips pressed more gentle kisses back and forth along your hips, your belly, your thighs. He was so tender, so sweet, so loving, it almost made you want to cry.

When he licked a gentle stripe along your center you felt yourself involuntarily begin to fist the blanket beneath you in both hands, trying not to make too much noise as he tasted you for the first time. His breath was so hot against your pussy, his lips damp and tongue so wet as he circled the tip of it around your clit, one of his hands pressing flush against your stomach, the other snaking up to your inner thigh to hold you open. You shook in his grasp, feeling yourself drip down onto the blanket, shaking even more when he pulled back to lap up what he could from one of your thighs.

"Joel," you moaned softly, eyes still closed as you reached down and felt for his hair, tugging on it gently.

"Is this okay?" he asked quietly, waiting for your reply before he went any further.

"Yes," you whined, "More." You didn't know where this demanding version of yourself had come from but he didn't seem to be complaining, chuckling softly to himself as he leaned back in to taste you again. He sucked gently on your clit, his beard pressed firmly against your throbbing hole. You couldn't see him but you knew he was probably covered in your wetness, practically dripping in it. The thought made you tense up, stomach tightening as you felt his tongue slip from your clit to your entrance and slowly prod its way inside.

"Oh, fuck," you groaned, fingers tightening in his hair, "Right there."

Listening to your encouragement, he pushed his tongue further inside of you, nosing your clit and holding you open a bit wider. He moved his hand from your stomach and brought it down to touch your pussy, slicking up his fingers before delicately pressing one in alongside his tongue. You writhed beneath his touch, pulling his hair probably a bit harder than you'd meant to, but he didn't seem to care.

"Gonna come," you said it apologetically, slightly ashamed as your legs squeezed his head between your thighs as he continued to fuck you with his tongue and finger, nose still pressed firmly against your clit like it belonged there. He didn't say anything, didn't stop, just kept licking and sucking and fingering until you were a complete mess, whimpering out his name hopelessly in the darkness. He kept going throughout your whole orgasm, only stopping when you told him to, completely overstimulated.

"You doin' okay?" he asked you softly, crawling back out from underneath the sleeping bag. You were right; his face was glistening with your release, beard wet and shining.

You reached up and touched his wet chin, scrunching up your nose, "I'm sorry."

He looked surprised by your words, "For what?"

"You're a mess," you replied, feeling embarrassed, "And I came too early."

He shook his head with a smile, "Sweetheart, the mess is the best part."

He didn't want you to suck him, admitting to you with a hint of guilt in his voice that he would end up coming before getting to actually be inside you, and you made a mental note to make sure you tasted him next time. It was only fair.

Plus, you wanted to. Very badly.

You now found yourselves laying underneath the sleeping bag again, him spooning you from behind and kissing your neck as he fingered you steadily, groin pressed firmly against you. It was so different now that you were both naked, his cock sitting large and heavy against your ass while the head bobbed back and forth along your lower back, leaving your skin sticky and wet. Your eyes were closed, a stream of whines and whimpers falling from your lips as he pushed a third finger inside and fucked you slowly, whispering things in your ear that you'd only dreamt of.

"Takin' my fingers so well," he murmured, kissing your ear tenderly and pulling some of your hair back and out of your face, "Gotta get you ready for my cock, don't wanna hurt you, baby."

"I need it," you moaned, leaning back into his touch, feeling his hand reach down to cup one of your breasts, "Joel, please, I'm ready."

"Okay, sweetheart," he whispered, "Lay on your back for me."

Lying there underneath the sky as Joel situated himself above you, seeing his gorgeous body silhouetted against the shape of the moon and the twinkling of stars, you knew in that moment that this was exactly where you were supposed to be. You watched with tender fondness in your eyes as he placed his hands above you, leaned down to press a soft kiss to your cheek, and aligned himself at your entrance.

"I'm so glad you exist," you breathed, wanting him to know how you felt, wanting him to feel it the way you'd felt it that first night.

"Baby," he breathed, brow furrowing as the head of his cock slipped inside you slowly, "I don't exist without you."

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as he pushed himself inside inch by inch, watching your face and making sure it felt good, making sure you wanted it. You'd never wanted anything more in your life than you wanted him at that moment.

He found a rhythm easily, fucking into you slowly and steadily while he cradled your head and peppered kisses all along your skin, showing you continuously how much he wanted you. In response you held him tighter, hands pressed flush against the width of his strong back as he plunged in and out of you. Every so often he'd make sure to look directly in your eyes, give you those special smiles he reserved especially for you, and whisper to you how good it felt.

"You're so big," you whispered, voice broken and weak, "So fucking big."

"Doesn't hurt, does it?" he asked, slowing a bit and peering down at you with concern, "Don't need me to stop?"

You shook your head frantically, "No, don't stop, feels so good, Joel," you looked up at him earnestly, feeling tears prick in your eyes, "Go faster, please."

He didn't need telling twice, picking up his pace, bringing down one of his hands to thumb your clit as he fucked you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You dug your nails into his back, eyes shutting tightly as he pounded into you over and over.

"Where do you want me to come, sweetheart?" he groaned in your ear, breath hot against your skin, "Tell me where, quick."

"Anywhere," you whimpered, biting down hard on your lip as he rubbed your clit furiously, wanting to get you there at the same time as him, "You can come anywhere you want, please."

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, "Tell me when you're coming, wanna come with you, baby."

"I'm close" you replied almost immediately, eyes going wide as you watched him start to fall apart above you, "Oh my god, don't stop, don't stop." you gripped his wrist tightly as he pressed harder on your clit, sending you over the edge, "Right there, Joel, right there."

You felt him pull out of you as you began to shake with your orgasm, body convulsing underneath him as he aimed his cock at your breasts and painted you with his come, marking you. Your eyes rolled back in your head, his fingers still stimulating your clit over and over until you'd finished.

"Oh my god," he groaned, deep and husky, the last few aftershocks wracking through his body as he released his fingers from your clit and brought them to his cock, slicking himself up as he fisted himself a few more times, small spurts of come still pulsing out of him and onto your chest.

"Fuck," you breathed in response, throwing your arms above you and laying there panting. The stars had somehow moved from the sky and were now permanently dancing behind your lids, white and sparkling every time you closed your eyes.

Your body was heavy and warm, relaxed and satisfied. You didn't want to move. And you didn't have to, feeling Joel wipe you gently with some of the toilet paper you'd stolen from the resort, taking extra care to make sure he cleaned your thighs as well. Eyes still closed, breath becoming more and more even, you felt him swipe the tissue along your breasts, slow and gentle.

"Almost done," he murmured, ripping off another piece and pressing it to your forehead where you realized you were practically drenched with sweat. He wiped it off and stroked your hair, kissing your temple lightly before settling in beside you. He pulled you in close, his body still naked and warm, heart pounding quickly against your back.

"I love you," you whispered into the darkness.

He pulled you impossibly closer, nosing your neck and breathing you in, "I love you," he whispered, like he'd said it a thousand times before.

And maybe he had.