#future man

18+ MDNI: All entries contain smut or suggestive content

I put together my prompt list myself using various kinktober prompt lists, as well as some other October challenge lists, but I intend to make all my fics at least highly suggestive ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

Find it on ao3!

☠︎︎ | indicates dark, potentially triggering themes (all warnings included in tags on posts)

✔ | indicates completed prompt  ✘ | indicates not yet completed

❈ | indicates author-chosen prompt and character pairing (the rest were randomised)

⭑ ･ﾟﾟ ･ * : ༅ ｡ . ｡ ༅ : *ﾟ : * : ✼ ⭑

꩜ boyfriend!sub!josh futturman dry humps you

꩜ tags // josh futturman x reader, dry humping, whimpering, smut, 18+ fanfic, futureman fanfic, porn without plot

꩜ mentions // dry humping, male whimpering, moaning, grinding, praise, teasing, kissing, begging

It’s late at night, and you’re curled up on the couch with Josh, watching some old sci-fi movie. His arm is around you, but you can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s shifting slightly, like he can’t quite get comfortable. You turn to him, catching his eyes in the dim light from the screen.

“Everything okay?” you whisper, brushing a strand of his messy hair from his forehead.

He nods, but his cheeks flush a little. “Yeah, just… you look really good tonight.” His voice is soft, almost shy, but there’s a heat in his gaze that makes your pulse quicken.

You smile and lean in, pressing your lips to his. What starts as a gentle kiss quickly turns heated, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer. Before you know it, you’re straddling his lap, the movie forgotten in the background.

Josh’s hands grip your hips as you start to move against him, grinding slowly through your clothes. The friction builds, and you feel him harden beneath you. A soft whimper escapes his lips, muffled against your mouth, and it sends a thrill through you.

“You like that?” you murmur, pulling back just enough to see his face, eyes half-lidded, lips parted, looking utterly wrecked already.

He nods frantically, another whimper slipping out as you roll your hips harder. “Please… don’t stop,” he begs, his voice breaking into a whine. His hands guide your movements, but you’re in control, teasing him with every grind.

The dry humping intensifies, his breaths coming in short gasps, punctuated by those delicious whimpers that make you grind even slower, drawing them out. “You sound so good like this,” you praise, kissing along his jaw.

Josh arches up into you, chasing the friction, his whimpers turning into moans. The tension coils tight, and soon he’s trembling beneath you, lost in the sensation.

You keep the rhythm steady, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate circles that have Josh squirming underneath you. His fingers dig into your sides, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to show how desperate he’s getting. Every time you grind down, he lets out these soft, breathy whimpers that make your core ache, high-pitched and needy, like he can’t hold them back.

“Fuck… feels so good,” he gasps, his head tilting back against the couch cushions. You lean down, capturing his lips in a messy kiss, swallowing his next whimper as your tongues tangle. The movie’s still playing, some explosion lighting up the room, but neither of you cares.

You pull back, watching him chase your mouth with a whine. “Tell me what you want, Josh,” you tease, slowing your movements just enough to make him buck up against you involuntarily.

“Please… faster,” he begs, his voice cracking into another whimper. His cheeks are flushed, eyes glassy with want. You oblige, picking up the pace, the friction between your clothes building that sweet, torturous heat. He moans louder now, the sound vibrating through you as he grinds back, matching your rhythm.

You’re both panting, the dry humping turning frantic. You can feel him throbbing beneath you, so close to the edge. “You’re doing so well for me,” you praise, nipping at his earlobe, and that’s what pushes him further, another series of whimpers spilling from his lips, broken and raw.

But you don’t let him finish just yet. You slow down again, edging him, drawing out those delicious sounds. “Not yet, baby,” you murmur, kissing his neck. He whines in protest, hips jerking up, but you hold him steady, building the tension until he’s trembling all over.

Finally, when you can’t take it anymore either, you grind hard and fast, pushing you both over. Josh cries out, a long, shuddering whimper as he comes undone beneath you, his body arching. You follow soon after, collapsing against him in a heap of tangled limbs and heavy breaths.

word count: 2263

request?: no

description: in which she walks in on her best friend..."celebrating" his big win, and decides to help him

pairing: josh futterman x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (masturbation, oral - m receiving, unprotected p in v, josh is a bottom bitch but we been knew)

masterlist (one, two, three)

Day One - Orgasm Control and Masturbation - Josh Futturman

MDNI

A long and painful work crush reaches its climax (hehe)

———————————————————————

My god he’s pathetic. You’ve seen him at work and yeah, he’s cute, but he’s pathetic. You try not to be presumptuous, but it’s pretty clear he’s got a crush of sorts on you. But delighting in the sick torture of making him nervous, you’re flirting back boldly and waiting for him to make the first move.

Or at least that’s what you said two months ago. Because now you’re honestly annoyed at him. You sit at your office desk, watching him mop up spilled possum fluid as he tries not to look back at you. Usually you would play it cool, but yesterday had been Valentine’s Day and you’d been certain he was going to make his move that day. So, you take a deep breath and walk over. God you hope it’s not all been in your head. But when he looks at you like you’re some Ancient Greek statue crafted from gold and marble, you know you’re right.

You reach out and put your hand on his arm and he swears he just went into cardiac arrest. He stares at you, eyes wide and somewhat terrified.

“What are you up to tonight?” You ask upfront.

“I was gonna play video games in my room…” he replies.

“Maybe you can teach me if I come over?” But his face goes to stone and he looks mortified at the idea.

“N-no you can’t because… because my parents are over-“ he is not about to tell you he lives with his parents.

“Oh okay, maybe you can come to my place tonight then.” You hand him a piece of paper you’ve scribbled his address on and saunter back to your desk without waiting for an answer, desperately hoping he’s staring at you.

That evening you wait at home uncomfortably. You’ve cleaned, cooked (ordered and received pizza), and dressed up in a low cut shirt. You didn’t give him a set time, and you’re not sure he has your number, and that interaction was genuinely so awkward you’re having second thoughts. But it’s fine. Because once the doorbell rings, you relax. His heart is hammering and he feels like he’s on death’s door for the second time that day because when you open that door, in that shirt, he just gulps. You smile and lead him in. “Thought we could watch a movie and eat pizza on the couch?” And he just nods at you, still unable to speak, eyes glued to the cleavage on display. You grin and bring the pizza boxes to the sofa.

Learning from the mistakes of the last few months of thinking he has any initiative whatsoever, once you finish the pizza you move closer to him and place your hand on his thigh. You hear his breath hitch and smile to yourself, then look up at him innocently. “Is this okay?” He nods at you, unable to speak from the breath caught in his throat. You trail your hand higher, then lower, looking up at him. “Thought I was never gonna get you here, all to myself. Got really annoyed at you for not making a move…” He looks terrified at that. “Don’t be angry… I was scared, you’re so pretty, and I-“ he stops when your hands travel back to your shirt to undo a button, eyes transfixed on you, and you watch his neck as he swallows, wanting to sink your teeth into it, waiting for a sign that you can. But for once, he makes the first move, leaning in to kiss you.

You kiss him back, immediately leaning into him and placing your hand on his thigh, and soaking up the groan he exhales into the kiss as you do. You slide your tongue along his bottom lip, revelling in the whimper that he lets out when he opens his mouth to grant you access. You reach for his hands and place them either side of your waist, kissing him deeper and letting yourself taste in his mouth. “Taste so good baby…” you mutter, and he whimpers again. You climb onto his lap and cage his head in against the sofa, and he looks up at you, pupils blown wide, heavily breathing. And you can feel him. “All this just over kissing, baby?” You ask, earning a delicious whine. You lean in to bite his neck softly, but enough to hurt a little, still irritated at how long you had waited. “Seen you staring at me at work”, you whisper between applying soothing licks to the bite, making his eyes roll back, and tiny begs to leave his lips, barely audible. “You think about me, baby?” He nods at you, still pleading for more. “What do you think about?” You ask, teasingly. He whimpers, and it’s just as hot as the first time. “Think about you, think about touching you, think about kissing you, running my hands through your hair, think about-“ he cuts himself off, embarrassed.

“Tell me.. nothing to be ashamed of…” You whisper. “I think about you too, Josh. I think about… undoing your belt, taking down your boxers and how I’d lick and bite your thighs until you begged, then finally let you feel my mouth…” you open his belt, then look at him for permission, and he begs you, the words falling from his mouth like he’s not even in control of them himself, pupils blown wide and mouth agape. His lips chase yours and he kisses you as you take him out of his boxers. “You gonna tell me what you thought about now?” You ask, as he moves to touch himself. He groans pathetically, sending heat right between your legs, as you lean in to suck deep marks into his neck as he talks. “Thought about how it would feel to touch you, to see… what’s under your shirt… to taste you… made me lose my mind...”

You look up and his eyes are rolled back as he’s touching himself. You take off your shirt and he whines, one hand reaching out to touch you as the other speeds up on his red, swollen cock. You sit back and watch, and he looks embarrassed, but so fucking hot. “Is this what you would do when you thought about me?” You ask, unable to look away as his hand travels up and down his length, pre-cum prickling at the top. He nods, pathetically. “Keep showing me baby, keep going for me. Grip it harder.” He whines and does as he’s told, desperate to be good for you. You watch, unable to decide whether to watch his face or his cock. His face contorts with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure, and his cock is starting to leak a steady stream of pre-cum. “Doing such a good job…” you say, slipping your panties down from under your skirt and letting your finger tentatively find your clit in front of him. He groans loudly at the sight, his hand speeding up. You collapse next to him on the couch, legs spread wide, touching yourself. You lean over to kiss him as you both get yourselves off, the air thick with desire, sweat and the wet, debauched sounds filling the room. You watch as his hips start to buck into his hand as he gets closer, and you slap his face. “Not until I say.” He groans raggedly, but nods, slowing his hands down, and you’re amazed at the control just your words are having over him. He’s so hard it hurts, but he looks over at you, waiting for command, looking at where you’re touching yourself and groaning. “Go on, slowly.” You watch with sick glee as he jerks himself slowly, torturously slowly, as his dick throbs and he throws his head back against the couch. It’s perfect. It’s a sight you could watch for hours, as he covers his hand in his sticky pre-cum and works his way from tip to base. “Want you to touch your balls with your other hand…” you breathe out and he whines loudly, his other hand finding his balls and cupping them, as he turns to stare into your eyes.

You work your fingers around your clit faster, staring at him, watching his orgasm build. You grab his hand to stop him for a second time. “Not yet. You know why? Because if you had just asked me out months ago, you wouldn’t have to be waiting. But since you kept me waiting, I’m gonna keep you waiting.” He whines pathetically, but he’s not pleading, and you know that somewhere in his weak little mind he’s enjoying this. You let him watch as you curve your fingers and push them into yourself, making a show of moaning. You sink them in slowly and move them in and out, letting him watch as he slowly jerks himself pathetically, knowing it’s all he’s getting, dick twitching violently. You bring yourself to the precipice, eyes on him, then cum, whispering his name. He moans and whines as he fists his dick desperately, waiting for your command, waiting to be allowed to cum, eyes begging you, drinking in the sight of you stretched out. You open your eyes when you come down from your high and withdraw your fingers, bringing them up to his mouth. He opens his mouth and takes them in without instruction, eyes rolling back at your taste, tongue wrapping around your fingers as his hand speeds up on his cock. You withdraw your fingers and he whimpers at the loss, then groans as you lean in to kiss him, then before your lips meet, you whisper against them, “now”, then pull away, watching as his eyes roll back into his skull, whimpering loudly, as his dick twitches, his balls draw up, and his sticky white semen pulses out onto his stomach in thick pulses, coating his hand and his stomach.